Layer 12 Map

Meanwhile, somewhere else, inside a barely lit chamber, Draeven sat across from the Durnokh Warden, Slark. Between them, a massive map sprawled open on the stone table. Unlike the world maps of the surface, filled with vast oceans and scattered islands—this one resembled an intricate dungeon blueprint. Caverns, tunnels, and subterranean domains stretched in every direction, their pathways winding like the veins of a great beast. Some routes were traced in red, marking lethal hazards. Others were black, denoting secret tunnels known only to the Durnokh.

Draeven's fingers traced the lines of the Nephirid Kingdom's domain. "This sector is the weakest link. At best, there'll be a single squad of Ashborn stationed here. Too many territories, not enough standing forces. The Nephirid rule by fear, but fear alone doesn't hold an empire together. If the lower clans start rebelling—" He dragged his finger toward a network of pathways leading into other zones. "—then the entire structure collapses from within."

Slark let out a low rumble, crossing his arms. "You think the Durnokh haven't considered that? Fear is what keeps these races in line."

"For now," Draeven countered. His finger moved to a region marked by fungal biomes and deep hunting grounds, connected to the sector he had pointed out before. "The Brakkon have the numbers, but they're scattered. If someone were to unite them…"

Slark scoffed. "And who exactly would do that?"

Draeven smirked. "What about the Ulthari? They're one of the few who can resist the Nephirid's heat-based magic."

Slark's lip curled in distaste. "Their elders swore fealty decades ago."

"Fealty," Draeven repeated, leaning back. "Not loyalty. If they sense an opportunity, they might reconsider their allegiance."

Slark exhaled sharply, his claws drumming against the table as he studied the map. "Even if the Ulthari or Brakkon could be turned, the Nephirid's grip is still strong. You'd need something… more. And tell me, who do you think will unite them? You?"

"Yes!" Draeven declared. "I will prove my worth to you."

The Durnokh warden let out a mocking laugh, then grinned, his clawed finger tracing one of the red-marked tunnels. "This passage skirts the Infernal Chasm. The heat alone is enough to strip flesh from bone—but I'm sure that's no problem for an Ashborn like you." His claw continued its path, stopping at the very edge of the map, beyond any mapped tunnels. "This is the domain of the Hell Worm. No known passages lead to it. It exists beyond the reach of the Nephirid, beyond even our maps." His lips curled into a predatory grin. "That's where you need to go to finish your quest. Now tell me, young Ashborn, are you still so certain?"

Draeven clenched his jaw. He had expected a challenge—but this? This was a death sentence. It meant even Slark was certain the traveler he was targeting lived in this region. And if the rumors were true… the traveler had killed the Hell Worm. If only he knew Ben had defeated it with salt, he wouldn't be this worried. But unfortunately, he didn't know.

Slark watched him, gauging his reaction. In truth, he knew Draeven's proposal was the best chance the Durnokh had for freedom—but that didn't mean he would approve it easily. There were many things he needed to ensure first. Most important of all was Draeven's capability. The warden raised two fingers. "I will give you two choices to earn our trust."

Draeven straightened, eyes locked onto him.

Slark's voice dropped, heavy with intent. "First—I've received intel that your kingdom is planning to assassinate a magus coming here. I want you to capture this magus instead. Show us your skill."

Draeven swallowed hard. He had never faced a magus before, but he had heard the stories. It may not have been as strong as a Hell Worm, but one magus could decimate a fully-fledged Ashborn with ease. It took at least three high-level Ashborn just to bring one down. To capture one? A full squad would be required.

Slark's grin widened, amusement flickering in his gaze as he watched Draeven's reaction. "You wanted to prove yourself," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "So prove it. Succeed in this, and I will grant you a Durnokh Strider to aid you on your quest." He tapped a claw against the edge of the map, where the Hell Worm's domain lay beyond any known passage. "As you can see, there are no tunnels leading to that area. That means you'll have to dig your own way through." He leaned forward, his grin turning sharp. "Of course, if you had our help, the Strider could handle all of it."

Digging a tunnel might sound simple, but in reality, it's anything but. Even on Earth, improperly executed excavations have led to catastrophic failures.

Consider the Lake Peigneur disaster in Louisiana in 1980. A miscalculation during an oil drilling operation caused the drill to puncture a salt mine beneath the lake. The resulting breach led to a massive sinkhole that swallowed the drilling platform, several barges, and even parts of the surrounding land. The lake, once only 3 meters deep, transformed into a 200-meter-deep chasm, permanently altering the local landscape. 

IFLScience

In 2024, researchers studying Siberia's Yamal Peninsula uncovered massive craters formed by explosive releases of methane gas. As climate change warmed the permafrost, methane trapped underground expanded, leading to sudden and violent explosions that left large holes in the tundra. These events highlighted the dangers of destabilizing subterranean gas deposits.

And those were surface operations. Down here, in the depths of the underworld, one mistake could trigger a cave-in that would bury them alive—or worse, open up a passage to something best left undisturbed. Some tunnels weren't abandoned because they were forgotten. Some were sealed for a reason. Draeven exhaled slowly. "What's the second choice?"

Slark leaned back, a smug glint in his eyes. "It's easier. You go on your merry way and finish your quest on your own strength. If you can do that, we'll trust your plan."