The gaping fissure yawned before them, a wound in the Emperor's corpse so vast that it swallowed the sunlight and churned with a thick, crimson steam. The stench hit them first as they entered. It was thick and cloying, the pungent aroma of blood that had dried over centuries, mixed with something older, something that had lived and breathed across eons. The Muscle Warrens were alive in a sense that defied logic. The walls pulsed, ever so slightly, like the beat of a colossal heart, stretching and contracting as though the Emperor's body remembered the rhythms of its own life.
The first hazard revealed itself almost immediately. Sections of muscle, hardened over millennia yet still semi-supple, contracted beneath the advancing soldiers, sending a tremor through their formation. The vanguard stumbled as the tunnel narrowed, and the space between the soldiers became perilously tight.
Artorius led the way, his feet sinking into the slick, fibrous surfaces. Every step was measured; even a slight miscalculation could plunge them into a sticky trench of congealed sinew. The fissure widened, revealing a network of tunnels braided together by thick, fibrous muscle strands. Steam hissed from hidden crevices, carrying bursts of scalding vapor that could burn flesh instantly.
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The soldiers behind him moved with disciplined caution. Their eyes were wide, scanning every twitch of the flesh around them. Dragons flanked the columns, scales gleaming, wings slightly unfurled to avoid accidental crushes against the undulating walls. He was joined by the Psychic dragon at the head who flew overhead and the Paper dragoness with scroll in claw, marking hazards in real-time, her quill leaving ephemeral lines that glimmered faintly before vanishing into nothing.
The corridors twisted. They coiled in spirals and knots, seemingly designed to disorient intruders. Artorius noticed that the path they had thought led deeper sometimes doubled back on itself, tunnels folding like living origami. He frowned.
Then came the Muscle Sentinels. From the folds of red, semi-solid tissue, grotesque shapes emerged. Shifting masses of sinew that defied a coherent form, their attacks were chaotic but devastating limbs solidifying to strike, then melting into new shapes.
As if that was not all continuing on their way suddenly, the corridors narrowed sharply. The floor beneath them vibrated. Without warning, a translucent, wormlike creatures flickered into view. Schrödinger Larvae who was innocent-looking creatures flickering between states then collapsing in a murderous burst toward the nearest soldier.
Then the army entered wider chambers where walls of twisted muscle coiled like serpents around them. Artorius split the vanguard into squads, each flanking a narrow passage, ready to respond to ambush. From the shadows, Probability Predators slithered out, creatures that targeted predictability itself. The soldiers' measured steps were suddenly a liability; one misstep, one repeated pattern, and they could vanish into the predator's maelstrom of angles and reflexive attacks.
The hazards multiplied. Entropy Zones corroded weapons and bodies, abilities also misfired, sometimes detonating harmlessly, other times unleashing devastation directly onto the caster. Reverse Horizons twisted their perception: soldiers trudged tirelessly through the muscle floor, only to realize they hadn't advanced a single inch. Echo Chambers distorted commands; a simple shout of "left flank, advance!" echoed back as a warped, contradictory instruction, forcing Artorius to innovate signals flares, claw patterns, and synchronized tail thumps to maintain coordination.
As they progressed, the tunnels twisted more wildly. Pockets of Necrotic tissues patches released choking, acidic gas that corroded armor and scales in seconds. Fleshy creatures in the shapes of serpentine dragons born entirely of muscle fibers, slithered through the tunnels like undulating rivers of sinew.
Then came the Probability Swarms: clouds of micro-parasitic creatures drawn from the Emperor's marrow. They latched onto soldiers' armor and scales, attacking the most predictable points of defense.
Despite the chaos, Artorius' mind thrummed and his abilities he could access were working fulltime. He especially got some good use out of his new Draconic Eye and his Strategic trait. He observed patterns within randomness: how certain folds of muscle delayed contractions, how Paradox Flora avoided areas of extreme pressure, how Schrödinger Larvae collapsed into lethal forms based on probability peaks. He adapted formations dynamically, redirecting squads in real-time to exploit safe zones and lure predators into deadly corridors lined with explosive traps from rear units.
On top of all that he felt as if he was starting to understand all this randomness as strange as that sounded. Bunking down for the night one day, Artorius just like his men was partaking in the strange creatures' flesh that could be found down here. They held randomness quality in them one second tasting like grapes the next like pasta. Thankfully so far he wasn't like any of the unfortunate souls that had some undesirable taste.
The asteroid dragon sat next to him, "I see you are slowly coming to understand the laws found in this place!"
Of course it knew what he was up to. He wouldn't deny that he wished to also master a law like the other royal dragons. It gave them an edge he couldn't deny. Since he didn't have his fount of knowledge that being Ouroboros he turned to the elder blooded dragon. "So what are laws anyways?"
"Now, that is a very broad and far-reaching topic, one that could take lifetimes to fully explore. But if I were to simplify it, it is a profound comprehension of reality, a simple truth of the universe, a fundamental principle that underlies all things.
When you come to understand it then reality ceases to be rigid. You get the backdoor key to the universe and no longer are you bound by ordinary rules or limitations. Your comprehension is not just knowledge, it is permission, a kind of cosmic authorization allowing you to freely bend, shape, create your Law and the principles that underlines it. What was once impossible becomes possible."
"Fascinating," Artorius couldn't deny it was but he just cut right to the earth of the matter. "So its reality bending powers?"
"Yes, you can put it like that," the asteroid dragon couldn't help chuckling.
-
Days or weeks passed in the warped chronometry of the Muscle Warrens. Artorius was leading the vanguard which thankfully Psychic dragon did not interfere in as he did technically overrank him. Still he had no idea what was going on behind him, he did thankfully still receive messages from them but the army was so vast each portion acted on their own.
As days and nights passed in the warped chronometry of the Muscle Warrens, Artorius' mind became a machine of observation and improvisation. He cataloged hazards and creatures, predicting the behavior of them, mapping safe zones, and standing with his men. He got more and more attuned with the chaos that he was learning had a rhythm, a strange pulse beneath unpredictability that could be understood if one observed closely enough.
Also on the plus side he made plenty of progress as he was racking in the levels even at his high level. Congratulations! You have leveled up. Archetype: [Leader] → Lv. 31
Stat gains: +1 INT, +1 WIL, +1 CHA
Congratulations! You have leveled up. Class: [Storybook Squire] → Lv. 31
Stat gains: +1 Str, +1 Con, +1 Will, +1 Char, +1 Luc!
Congratulations! You have leveled up. Race: [True-Blood DragonMen] → Lv. 32
Tunnels twisted, muscle walls flexed and contracted, and the army fought continuously. Every exit revealed new threats: larger, evolved Muscle Sentinels, entropic geysers that dissolved scales, Phase Fogs that distorted flesh, and the occasional cascading probability maelstrom, where reality itself bent violently, threatening to tear soldiers into oblivion.
Casualties mounted. Soldiers either vanished unpredictably or fell to the onslaught of creatures down here. Morale wavered at times, but he pressed forward, coordinating supplies, rotating fatigued units to the rear, and keeping flanks covered with. He issued precise, rapid-fire commands.
Still the place responded as if instinctively, a living organism adapting to its hostile invaders. Chaos was its tool; unpredictability its most powerful of hammers. Near the deepest parts of the Muscle Warrens, the sheer scale of the corpse became overwhelming. Muscle fibers pulsated like massive, living pistons; steam vents hissed unpredictably; corridors twisted into impossible non-Euclidean angles. Phase Fogs thickened, and reality itself bent under the strain of probability storms.
Artorius deployed decoy units to test safe passage, using the survivors' reports to chart temporary corridors where the likelihood of catastrophic failure dipped, however briefly. Some soldiers survived by sheer improvisation, others perished trying to impose order on an impossible battlefield.
The Muscle Warrens were a crucible. By the time the army reached the chambers near the Bone Realms, they were bloodied, exhausted, and battle-hardened. And a final ambush awaited them.
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The corridor opened into a cavern large enough to swallow a dozen dragons at once. There, coiled atop a sea of twitching muscle fibers, was many headed draconic creature. Its five heads writhed independently, each eye flickering with shifting probabilities, scales semi-transparent, showing the red of raw sinew beneath.
[Probability Hydra — Level 42]
Artorius clenched his hand around his lance. "Great, we got mini-bosses now." He knew there were possibilities of running into very deadly creatures but to be already finding things in the 40s just two layers in was troubling. That left him wondering what they would find much deeper in.
Still this was his chance to gain more levels, "I will be fighting this thing," he called to his men as he stepped forward. If he wished to survive against the newly hatched immortal dragon deep below then he needed more power.
The first head hissed at him, spewing a wave of distorted probability energy that made the air itself feel liquid. Spells misfired or exploded unpredictably when anything beyond spot abilities at it. The second head snapped at him and he held it back with his lance which suddenly transformed into a cardboard copy.
He looked in surprise at his lance before the third head whipped itself at him at impossible speed, snapping him into a wall of contracting tissue. The fourth head exhaled an acidic cloud that corroded reality itself right at him, barely giving him a chance to react. And the fifth head seemed to observe the vanguard, seeing probability in real-time to minimize danger.
"Great," he thought he was going to in for a very tough fight but this was also an opportunity. He felt from the creature what he had been seeking the Law. Artorius exhaled once, raised his hand, and called upon a Word of Power "Light."
A sphere of radiance burst into existence around his palm, growing, intensifying. He hurled it. The orb streaked through the air then exploded in a flash blinding the creature. The Hydra hissed in five discordant tones, shifting its heads to avoid it.
Then he called upon, "Flame," scoring burnt marks upon its flesh in which the first head answered with a lung as jaws stretched wider than possible.
He called upon, "Crystal," and the earth beneath him erupted into a pillar of jagged, translucent crystal, launching him upward as the serpent head smashed into the spike, shattering shards into a rain of glittering knives. He sent them flying at the creature, embedded into its flesh turning one wound into dozens.
The Hydra thrashed, roaring, the second and third heads struck in tandem, one spitting probability distortion like a liquid mirage, the other snapping with jagged teeth of compressed chance.
He watched it closely and saw that the Hydra wasn't merely unpredictable; it existed in a spectrum of probabilities, and its actions were influenced by the likelihood of every potential outcome. The world wasn't chaotic, it was statistical. He could feel the threads of possibility bending around him and maybe he could nudge them.
Artorius twisted back and flew into the air, inhaled sharply, and shouted: "Flame!"
A whip of fire lashed from his hand, curving to sear across the second head's snout, burning away layers of transparent, flickering musculature. The creature screamed, and the air warped. The fourth head exhaled a cloud of corrosive, reality-melting gas. Walls around the vanguard sizzled into pink sludge.
Artorius slammed his foot onto the crystal column beneath him. "Crystal!" A dome erupted outward, catching the melting gas and pushing it aside, crystallizing pockets of the air itself. The dome cracked, exploded into shards, and he kicked off the debris like stairs, launching himself toward the Hydra.
Soldiers watched in awe as he made short work of the creature, freely controlling his elemental might. The Hydra's fifth head, the observer swiveled toward Artorius. He felt its stare like a blade against the back of his skull. Probability itself tightened, trying to collapse every possible outcome into the one where he died.
His heart pounded. But instead of fear, he felt… clarity. Threads. Invisible, vibrating threads of possibility. He saw it all. And for the first time, he nudged it. Just a little. The fifth head's bite snapped to the left, missing him by inches.
Artorius' eyes widened. The Asteroid Dragon's voice echoed in memory: "A Law is permission. A back door authorizing you to do as you wish with your understanding."
He had no Law. Not yet. But something inside him resonated with the Hydra's chaos. Chance… Probability… Randomness… Chaos. It was all the same. It was just a coin toss!
The Hydra roared in fear as it seemed to realize what exactly he was doing and all five heads lunging. Artorius dropped, rolled back and combined two Words of Power into "Laser." A great beam erupted which struck the creature right in the chest then kept on going hitting the fleshy wall opposite it and channeling through it some more before he ran out of energy.
The creature didn't even have time to let out a final, reality-warping roar as it dropped dead. You have slain [Probability Hydra — Level 42]
Congratulations! You have leveled up. Archetype: [Leader] → Lv. 32
Stat gains: +1 INT, +1 WIL, +1 CHA
Congratulations! You have leveled up. Class: [Storybook Squire] → Lv. 32
When the asteroid dragon approached, its ancient eyes gleaming, it spoke softly: "You felt it."
Artorius didn't deny it. "I saw… chance. I felt the threads of probability and I moved them."
"A fragment of the Law of Probability," the asteroid dragon whispered. "A dangerous Law. A wild one but one I believe is well suited for someone like you."
Artorius turned to his men. They had fought bravely, but many were battered, their armor scarred from both the physical and metaphysical dangers of the Muscle Warrens. Casualties had been taken. The soldiers' eyes were weary, haunted by the chaos they had just survived but there was only one path forward. "We move onward!"