Arthur stared at the seething water.
Another circular obsidian platform that wrapped around the monolith was rising from its cold darkness, followed by another—each getting wider and wider—while the one where Arthur lay flat kept ascending, putting more and more distance between him and the now faraway silhouettes of Adrien, Iris, and Bael.
Arthur kept his eyes downcast as he observed everything. His body was now somewhat thawed in a sense, so he could also think straight—which made him regret the first idea that came to his mind, but that was the only option if he wanted to keep up with the trio.
He straightened himself, perched at the edge of the platform with his feet dangling. With each passing moment, the drop below became deadlier and more lethal.
"Just a few seconds..." Arthur drew in a deep breath as he patiently waited for the right moment, and when it came, a string of bright silver motes wove themselves into an emerald glass bottle.
Downing a few sips of the strong rum from the Scar he received from his first kill ever, Arthur felt a soothing warmth permeate his whole being. His mind became a bit foggy while his lung capacity increased.
He dismissed The Sailor's Rum, stood up, and walked few dozen feet towards the inner obsidian wall behind him. Once there, he turned around, gazing at the horizon far away—and ran as fast as he could. Nearing the edge, putting all his strength in his front foot, he propelled himself off the platform.
'Fuck!'
'Fuck!'
'Fuck!'
Arthur dived. It all seemed fine theoretically—each platform under him was wider than the one above, so he chose the right moment when the fourth ring was completely out of the river and he was high enough that, during his dive, he could move forward and away from the edge of the platform, saving himself from crashing into the stone.
It was laid out perfectly in his mind but...
'I am going to die, I am going to die...'
Panic hit Arthur as soon as he barely managed to avoid hitting the platform below him by a few meters. Flailing his arms around like a wingless bird just to put some more distance between himself and the Obsidian Monolith was useless, because whatever was about to happen depended on his initial jump and the angle in which he did it... so now one of two things could happen.
Arthur either managed to reach the water before the rise of another platform, or he'd be pulverized into a macabre mess of blood and bone.
The wind shrieked as Arthur cut through it. Shutting his eyes, he was forced to focus on his inner turmoil—heart beating wildly and stomach lurching, cold biting into his skin...
And it ended.
The world slammed into him.
Arthur sank a few feet before instinctively starting to move, trying to gain coherence—most of the air was squeezed out of his lungs, and it hurt all over. The drop was hundreds of feet, so the water felt like slamming into a concrete wall, but he managed. Somehow, Arthur was able to reach the water, but that did not mean he could rest, as he knew there would be another platform and probably another under it.
He began swimming forward. Sailor's Rum managed to do two things: increase his lung capacity and make him... stupid enough to perform this kind of thing.
Soon, Arthur broke out of the water and took a few deep breaths, keeping himself cutting through the frothing river. Behind him, another platform revealed itself, and then another, but ignoring everything, he kept putting distance between himself and the Monolith.
And sooner than before, his body gave up—but that was fine, because he managed to catch up.
In front of him, a blond-haired guy with a tanned complexion was treading, tired and exhausted, but his eyes widened at the sight of Arthur.
'Is this enough?' Arthur's voice was small, vision groggy.
It was Bael, holding unconscious Iris close to him. He stuttered, as if finding it hard to believe that Arthur had managed to reach him. "Yeah... we are at The Eighth Ring."
Arthur did not understand what he meant, but did not question him. He was too tired to care, so he just kept gently kicking his feet under the water to keep himself afloat, just like Bael.
A few seconds passed, and Bael broke the silence between them.
"Brace yourself and don't panic."
Arthur was jolted out of his half-groggy, cloudy state as he blinked to see what was happening around him—only to realize that his feet hit something solid under the ground. Feeling a sense of déjà vu, he didn't do anything... not like he could.
Letting the platform carry him over the water, he gazed upwards and realized what Bael meant by The Eighth Ring.
The circular obsidian platforms wrapped themselves around the monolithic structure, the underside of each ridden with jagged, protruding stone spikes and grotesque whitish and crimson vines.
Looking like a ring fitted into a cylindrical tower that kept widening from upwards down, with the edge of the nearest ring being about a hundred feet hanging above them—or so from his current position—he had to really crane his neck to take in the full view of the Obsidian Monolith, and still failed to do so.
'The Eighth Ring...' Arthur sat cross-legged as the platform below him was now above the dark waters. Behind him, the platform extended far away—few kilometers of nothing but jet-black stone.
'Now what?' Arthur inquired without looking at Bael, who was struggling to get Iris to wake up.
Bael did not look up, his face ridden with concern as he answered, "We now get to the edge of this ring and descend to the ninth ring, where the temple is."
"Temple of what?" Arthur asked while lying flat on his back, every fiber of his body screaming in pain.
"You are a rebel, but that doesn't mean you should blatantly disregard our goddess," Bael's words suggested that Arthur should've not even asked what he did. Past that, it felt like Bael could care less if Arthur respected the goddess or not.
'And I need to remember that there is a history to this place... Even if it's all fake,' Arthur reprimanded himself as he watched Iris wake up and empty her stomach, forcing him to do the same.