Rules of Biomancy: A LitRPG Healer Fantasy

The seat shook below Elijah. It was a steady tremble, not heavy enough to throw him off, but enough that his old bones refused to rest during the ride.

Everybody else seemed to handle it somewhat better than him. Jack and the dwarves sat in the back, discussing whatever topics the young man desired. Elijah couldn't hear it, the wind stopping any chance of the words reaching him in the front, but he could see how both sides were deeply intrigued.

Aleksi sat beside him, getting in a few hours of sleep before whatever awaited him. Grace was on the other side, attempting to read some tome Alin had given her before they'd left and failing to do so. Sasha was in a seat further out, staring straight ahead, and looking completely unbothered. How she could seem so calm, while the rail intermittently screeched in such high tones, Elijah couldn't understand.

Maybe it's something else.

It was.

He couldn't lie to himself. Elijah knew that the dread in his heart wasn't solely due to having to trust the metallic beast below him to carry him safely. It was also about the travelling itself.

This… This was the first time he left Serenova's soil in almost sixty years. After leaving Castilla behind, he'd silently celebrated his twentieth birthday while on the job on these lands, and he had never ventured to other lands afterwards. Though he might've travelled to the different coasts within Serenova's borders, he'd never made any attempt to leave the country behind.

As of thirty minutes ago, that was no longer true.

Truthfully, Elijah wasn't sure what to think. He'd always told himself he would be prepared to leave the country at a moment's notice. He and Aleksi had prepared bags since the first day of their partnership, always looking for any need to hightail it, but never had the moment come where they needed to keep their word. Never had the moment come where they needed to leave the green plains behind.

And now Elijah was here, no longer standing on the grass that pulsed alongside his heart, no longer feeling the distant mind of Kulvik's dungeon, and no longer hearing the freedom-fighting foliage chanting his name. There was just… silence.

Even if he had lived without the sensation of magical signatures for most of his life, being deprived of it once more after the past months of constant noise was an unsettling experience.

Keep it together.

As he took a deep breath, keeping his heart calm, he felt a small poke from his right. Aleksi, without opening his eyes or turning towards him, made a small hand signal.

'You alright?'

How the giant had noticed his distress while napping, Elijah would never understand.

'I'm fine,' Elijah signalled back. Even with his eyelids still closed, Aleksi somehow caught the hand motions. A sniff left the giant before he shifted a little in his seat and went back to his nap.

It was a sobering thought, realizing how attached he had become to Serenova's lands. If given the chance to walk away in the future, with no consequences or setbacks, would he take it?

'I think we should,' Dawn commented, offering her ideas. 'We can bring the big one with us!'

The mental image of a small sailboat dragging along the tarrasque was forced into Elijah's mind. The absurdity of it made him chuckle, though he tried to hide it with a cough.

'I'm not sure Vera would be too happy if we stole her, I'm afraid,' Elijah replied.

'But you said no consequences,' Dawn countered. 'No changing rules.'

… Right. If Elijah was going to fantasize about the impossible, why not take it to the extreme?

'We'd need something a little bigger than a four-person boat, if you wanted to bring her,' Elijah replied, passing along old images of the five-mast warships he had seen in his youth. 'With a little creativity, we could have her floating on a platform behind us. Maybe take her along on a trip to the halffolk.'

'Do halffolk taste good?'

'To you? Probably.'

The thought of consuming the flesh of the shorter race kept the duck distracted for the last two hours of their journey. Honestly, Elijah was surprised at the swiftness of the trip, but the dwarves didn't think it too strange.

"As I told your apprentice, the carts take us several hundred kilometers per hour," Bramli explained. "It might not feel that fast, lad, when your eyes can't see the tunnel walls and the cart stops most of the wind from hitting you, but I promise that we have travelled very far."

There were some further details about the speed not being standard, as the costs grew exponentially with each linear increase, but Jack was more interested in those parts than Elijah could ever dream of being. Instead, he noted the magical signatures that he was starting to pick up, while the cart slowed down.

The signatures in the far distance were minor, but the absence of anything else within the tunnels of stone made it easier for Elijah to notice. There was moss that glowed off-green, thin vines that seemed to move beneath rubble, and an omnipresent air of power which very briefly seemed to notice Elijah as well. He tried to recapture the latter feeling again and again, but he failed each time, and, before long, he had to stop and marvel at the view revealed to them.

"Welcome to Kragdur, humans," Hafrad announced, as the tunnel opened up into the largest cavern that Elijah had ever been witness to. It was over a hundred meters high, with dozens of floors that contained bridges between them. Giant statues of dwarves were beside them, distant forges could be heard, and faint light was littered across the floors as thousands upon thousands of dwarves walked along. "A beautiful sight, isn't it?"

"Alin is going to be so jealous," Grace muttered under her breath as she stood beside Elijah. "The books do little justice to the city."

"If you think this beyond your wildest imaginations, Miss Runner, I eagerly await your reaction to the main portion of the city," Bramli said, as he urged them off the minecart. The rails only took them to the very edge of the city. According to the diplomat, the section they stood in was dedicated to the processing of metals before they could be delivered to the forges. Elijah believed it, seeing the machines that were meant to crush mined ores into smaller chunks. Each was bigger than the house. "Follow me, please. The king has already been alerted to your arrival, and he awaits you inside the temple."

They followed along, up the many stairs and through side-tunnels that revealed more of the massive dug-out caverns. While Elijah had previously thought Kulvik to be a large city, this changed his perspective entirely. Serenova's capital was a mere blip in comparison to the scale that the dwarves worked, and he could feel it with every floor that they climbed.

Even more so when the temple came into view. It was given a larger area than any other single building, more than a hundred meters wide and long, and about as tall as the royal castle back in Serenova. Two statues stood before it, both twenty meters tall, but they weren't like the others that they had seen. The sculpted dwarves didn't wear the thick plate armor that was oh so common, and neither was there an axe or shield. Instead, the dwarf on the right wore simple clothes while holding a small hammer and chisel, and the other held a chunk of what seemed to be regular stone.

"These are our oldest depictions of Duron within Darim," Hafrad supplied, when he noticed Elijah's eyes resting on them. "Both were sculpted by the sons of Korvin Trueforge, the first king of Darim, who discovered the dungeon."

"They're well made," Elijah politely complimented. "A hammer and chisel along simple stone… I take it they're references to the founding song?"

"You know it?" Hafrad asked, the dwarven eyes widening in mild surprise.

"Alin Oathbreaker mentioned it to me some weeks ago," Elijah explained. "I looked it up in the royal libraries. While it was not the original translation, it still told the tale of Duron sculpting the first dwarves with nothing but a small hammer and chisel."

As if a foreign power invaded his mind, the words were nearly whispered into his ears.

When mountains were young and rivers mere dreams,

Before sun kissed the peaks or moonlight did gleam,

Duron the Maker, with hammer in hand,

Carved out the deep halls beneath rock and sand.

With a whisper of will and a thunderous call,

He shaped from the silence the stoutest of all.

No clay did he mold, nor flesh did he weave,

But rock, raw and ancient, that would not deceive.

With but a chisel and hammer of might,

He carved out the first from the bones of the night.

With beards of coarse granite, and hearts fierce with flame,

Thus came the dwarves, stone-bound in name.

As the poem came to an end in his mind, the large doors of the temple opened up. There was no grinding or friction; the multi-ton slabs of stone were flawlessly held up by hinges.

Inside, it was clear the dwarves had a fondness for geometric precision. The walls, made of great slabs of black stone, were carved with interlocking triangles, sharp spirals, and perfect squares all nested within one another. Likewise, there were pillars every ten meters or so, shaped like octagons stacked on top of one another, with the surface adorned by labyrinthine patterns that Elijah guessed were dwarven writings.

Nothing compared to the ceiling of the temple, however, as it not only contained a vast variety of mandala-like circles, but also lines that contained mana. It lit up the room, and small pulses flew from the lines towards each person who walked inside. Elijah thought it was some enchantment meant for security, but as a line reached him and he felt his back straightening and his joints feeling like he was ten years younger, he understood the true purpose.

This place was both a center of worship but also a place of restoration.

"Oh, for— Are you okay?" he heard Jack blurt out loudly, before lowering his voice as the other dwarves further inside looked their way. Elijah didn't see the reason why the young man acted in such a way before Bramli removed his helmet, and the facial features of the dwarf were revealed. While most parts of the skin not hidden by the great, orange beard were flesh, a distinct chunk beside the left eye of the dwarf looked to be infested by multi-colored granite.

If Elijah had seen it on any human, he would've instantly thought it some horrid disease, but the way that the temple's enchantments seemed to pulse energy into the dwarves, he had a feeling it was something else.

"Be calm," Bramli soothed Jack. "This temple brings us closer to Duron, and the appearance he originally sculpted us as. While it doesn't transform us completely, we temporarily gain traits of the brothers deeper in the stone. Please, do not be afraid."

It was as the dwarf had said. As the others took off their helmets, more examples of the stone-skin could be seen. It wasn't the same place, however. Some had it within their eyes, some around the jaw, and others had their very beards transformed.

A strange thing, but not one that Elijah was too shocked by. Hafrad had previously explained the differences between the dwarven countries and how the differing depths caused changes to their physical makeup. And yet, seeing it firsthand was quite something.

It only got more apparent when the slow steps from further inside the temple were heard, and a dwarf who looked to be completely transformed appeared. They didn't wear armor like the ones that were escorting the group, and they were instead equipped with a set of white robes that covered most of their body.

"Right on time," the dwarf said in a hoarse voice. Bramli, Hafrad, and the other three dwarves beside them all went to their knees in an instant, their heads pointed down at the floor. "Rise. You have done well, Bramli. Escort your men to the castle, and give your report to Thorna. Hafrad Silverstone, you stay."

"At once, Lord Greyhelm," Bramli said, giving a quick nod to Hafrad before excusing himself. Within seconds, they were out of the temple.

"If you would all follow me, the king is waiting," the white-robed dwarf said, before calmly escorting them into a side area outside of the public view. "King Trueforge, your guests have arrived."

There was no throne, no seating expected for a king. The king himself was sitting on one of the front pews, wearing plain clothing that didn't outright reveal his status, and yet there was still no question of who he was. His body, wide and brimming with muscles, and his gaze that carried both strength and humility, spoke tales of a leader who happily walked with his men beside him.

"Who among you is Jack Larson?" King Trueforge asked outright, skipping introductions entirely. Jack awkwardly raised his hand in response. "You are the Metamancer?"

"I am, uhm, your highness?" Jack answered, adding the honorific after a moment's thought.

The dwarven king looked the young man up and down, seeming to scrutinize the nervous wreck, before the hints of a smile began to fall through.

"Thought you would be a little bigger, lad, with the size of the task granted to you," Trueforge commented, easing the tension Elijah could so easily spot from Jack. "Hafrad, I trust that Serenova has agreed to our offer?"

"Yes, your highness," Hafrad said, stepping forward and handing over the multi-page contract. "Everything we have promised them in return is within our abilities, and can be delivered to the border with current transport methods."

"Excellent," the king complimented, as he handed the documents back to Hafrad for safekeeping. "Admirable work as always, Silverstone. You make your family proud.

"Now… Before I hand you the crown, Jack Larson, I have a small test for you. I mean no offence by this, but tradition must be followed with relics of such historical importance."

"No offence taken, I promise," Jack was quick to assure the king. Elijah doubted the man could be offended, given how his eyes lit up at every new thing he'd spotted. "What do you want me to do?"

The king brought out a small ball in response. From where Elijah stood, he could see the metallic sheen, though what specific material it was meant to be wasn't obvious.

"This ball weighs twenty grams," Trueforge explained, putting it in Jack's hand. "A ball of mithril of the same volume would be around twelve to thirteen, depending on the purity. While I don't expect you to transmute all of it, I'd like you to try transmuting as much of the ball as possible. Would that be possible?"

"I… yes, sure, I can try," Jack said. Standing in the center of the room, the Metamancer showed off his abilities. Elijah could see in real time, as the young man's Core was called upon, as the Mana flowed from just beside his heart, to his shoulder, and through the arm and into the palm of his hand where the small ball sat.

The amount of energy expended every second was high, yet the first seconds proved no visible change. It was only after Jack's breathing started to deepen, as the intensity and pressure grew, that Elijah spotted the first shimmer of white.

The area transmuted was matched only by half a fingernail, but the king's mildly widened eyes showed that the feat was still an incredible sight. Being told that the impossible had occurred, and seeing it for yourself, were different things entirely, after all.

"Okay, that… yeah, no, that's what I can do," Jack wheezed, hurriedly handing the small ball of metal back before half-collapsing. The young man's hands were on his knees as he fought for breath. "If you give me a minute, I can try doing more, but—"

"Breathe easy, Jack Larson. This is more than enough," the king cut in, his words enough of a relief that Jack took an unexpected seat on the temple floor. "Lord Greyhelm, the time to confirm the claim has come."

"So it has, your highness," the white-robed dwarf said. Stone-covered hands gently reached out, delicately taking the half-transmuted ball. "Reveal yourselves."

Without respect for gravity, the metal floated into the air. Cracks swiftly formed on the surface, light briefly shining from within before the ball split apart into small pieces of differing colors and sizes. Most were nearly impossible to discern, but the two largest were easy to identify.

"Five noticeable impurities, matching what the brother of the used orichalcum had along with the amounts," Greyhelm noted after careful study, stone eyes fixated on the two largest pieces. "As for the transmuted metal, it stands above the raw mithril found in the middle floors in Lodar, slightly below what the true depths possess, but even a master smelter would have trouble refining it to this quality."

"What is your verdict then, Lord Greyhelm?" the dwarven king asked, refusing to assume what Elijah saw as obvious.

"Jack Larson, the first Metamancer of his kind, has my blessings to repair the relic of old," the stone-skinned dwarf proclaimed, teeth of multi-colored metals showing as a grin formed on his face.

Stolen novel; please report.

As the king congratulated Jack, Elijah kept his focus on Greyhelm, as the dwarf reached into his robes. Something within flashed in the earthen life, and the dwarf proceeded to pull out the artifact made of mithril.

Though that was technically a lie. More than half of the relic retained the original coloring, the white metal shining brightly in the light, but the rest was the brown metal, orichalcum, seemingly in the correct positions to make the crown retain its original shape, but foreign.

"The Crown of Maral," Lord Greyhelm presented, handing it over to the shaky Metamancer. "With the addition of orichalcum from my family's vaults, forged and shaped to fit identically to the original forms of the crown. A guide for how the repaired relic is to look, once you have finished your work, Jack Larson."

"Thanks for the clarity," Jack replied off-handedly, the man carefully moving his hand across all the small dents on the side of the crown. And from the way his hands still trembled… "This has more weight to it than I thought."

"The more important the intended wearer, so too must the symbol be heavier," the king explained, getting out a chuckle. "Now… while the quality of your work can't be denied, the amount you were able to transmute without preparations was less than four grams.

"The weight of the orichalcum to be transmuted is five point seven kilos. Given that the average time for mages of your experience is thirty minutes for a full recovery, you would need… A minimum of 34 days of endless work. An optimistic number, since mental stress and a lack of training would likely dampen long-term results, but we can nevertheless cut that estimation in half with some additional factors."

As the king went towards the front of the room, where the clerics would stand and preach, he revealed a secret. Behind the altar, hidden in a crevice, was a small button that, once pressed, opened a door. Where it led wasn't obvious, as there were no light sources, but the stone-faced dwarf was more than happy to explain.

"This is the private entrance into the dungeon," Lord Greyhelm said. "A sectioned-off area, free of monsters and prying eyes, but the air is still thick with Mana."

Instead of spending his time transmuting the orachilum inside the temple, the plan was for the group to enter the Dungeon through this hidden entrance every day. The dwarven king hoped it would allow Jack to finish his work in a single week, though there weren't any issues with going beyond that.

"We have waited for centuries for the chance to repair this piece of our history," Trueforge added. "Patience is a trait that we have in excess."

"I don't doubt that," Elijah commented, bringing himself into the conversation. "Are we to expect guards while inside the Dungeon?"

"If you wish, we can arrange it, but I personally see no need," the king replied. "I've been settled within those caverns for many days in a row in my youth, and never was I threatened by any other being."

"Then we won't ask for it," he concluded. It was a simple arrangement. Get the crown in the morning, enter the Dungeon with it, let Jack transmute what he could in ten hours, return the crown on their way out, and repeat the process the next day. "Shall we?"

The others were more than happy for the chance. With well-wishing from the king, the group ventured into the darkness.

The tunnel was long, there was no light from their surroundings to aid them, and the only savior was the glow generated from some of the vials that Elijah had brought along.

"Something wrong?" Elijah asked when he heard Aleksi sniffing.

"The smell is off," Aleksi replied, not sounding concerned but more… curious. "There's grass ahead. Trees as well."

"Just regular grass and bark?" Elijah questioned, his own curiosity growing when the giant nodded. "Any hints of beasts?"

"None," the giant assured him. "Not even bugs."

And that was the biggest clue for how unnatural the scenery they soon stepped into was. Though grass soon began to appear below their boots, though trees were on each side of them as the tunnel widened seemingly endlessly, and though what seemed to be an afternoon sky was above them, it was all fake. There was no natural cycle of life here. The grass didn't grow from nutrients supplied by the dead; bugs didn't feast on the leaves of trees, and there was no sun for leaves to look towards. It was an idyllic projection of what could only be found kilometers above, close enough to the true forests of the world to fool most, but to Elijah, it gave him nothing but an uneasy feeling in his gut.

"It's peaceful, at least," Grace commented, not attuned enough to the world to see how wrong this place was. "I certainly don't mind the 'no bugs' part. If there'd been the dungeon-equivalent of mosquitoes down here, I would've walked right back to the tunnel."

"Don't jinx it," Sasha muttered, walking ahead for the first time in a while. Following the trend of the unnatural state of the forest, there was a well-trodden path in front of them. Not consistent and flat enough to seem artificially constructed, but the fact that no animals walked here meant that it was the case anyway. A trap of old, which would've certainly been intended to house various deadly plants on the sides.

Yet there were none to be found, as the king had assured them. No beast, no foe, nothing that could justify the high density of mana in the air. It was… peaceful. No indicators sprang out that warned Elijah of danger.

And that fact worried him more than anything else.

Why?

"Oh, sweet," Jack remarked after a few minutes of walking. They'd stumbled into a small clearing, where a few trees had fallen. "Perfect seats for working."

"I suppose so," Elijah replied, looking around and yet again finding nothing worthy of stress. His mind couldn't escape from how wrong this seemed. "Remember not to push yourself too hard. This isn't a sprint, but a marathon. You need to be able to keep the pace for a week, at the very least."

Jack waved away the concerns as he got settled on top of the fallen tree. Aleksi and Sasha joined him soon after, the first seemingly accepting the lack of danger while the other was quick to lean back and seemingly fall asleep. Elijah and Grace, on the other hand, hadn't fallen to that temptation just yet.

"It is strange how close this is to real oak," Grace muttered as her hands glided across the surface of the tall tree. "From what the scholars say, it is theoretically possible for organisms living in standard-density areas to prosper within zones with higher levels of Mana for a short period, but any long-term exposure should either cause adaptations or have obvious harmful effects, and yet… I can't see anything different."

"It's because there is none," Elijah explained. Channeling his powers through his eyes, along with the activation of the Breathe Life spell, he looked deep into the internal structure of the oak. The bark was in perfect condition, nutrients were being supplied to each portion, but… There was no consistent growth, and the nutrients themselves didn't come from the far-reaching roots in the ground. It was instead manifested, materialized in the correct spots by a force from outside. "For whatever reason, the Dungeon wants this place to be as close to the northern forests as possible."

Now that Elijah had fallen onto that track of thought, the placement of the setting sun made even more sense, since it was only in the northern hemisphere it could be seen at that angle. Yet, how the Dungeon would've known that could hardly be justified. Even if it somehow had eyes above the ground, through kilometers of stone, it would be seeing a world from a point in the south.

What is the meaning behind it?

"Does that mean everything is being kept in the same way, or that it's the same general theme?" Grace asked, to which Elijah could only raise an eyebrow. "Like, if we cut down this tree, would it be back exactly as it was tomorrow, or would a different-looking tree be in its place instead? Or would it be like the trees that have been cut down in the clearing?"

That… was a good question.

One that Elijah wasn't sure about.

"How about we find out?" he suggested, stepping back the second that a grin appeared on Grace's face. "Try to be tactful about it."

"I always am," Grace proudly lied, raising her right hand upwards before cutting through the air. Though it was delayed by half a second, the winds around them swirled, and an almost-tangible line appeared in front of Grace, flying forward and wrapping around a lower section of the tree.

And, though it might've simply been air pressed into a blade, the results were far better than what most warriors could achieve. Like hands through water, the line swept through the oak without pause, going through the other side and cleanly separating the top from the bottom.

"Oh, shit," Grace uncharacteristically cursed, as the large tree began to fall under the powers of gravity, coming towards them. Another swipe of the hand pushed it to the side, letting it fall onto another patch of the path instead, a mighty thud going through the fake forest. "That was fun."

"Hey! What are you doing over there?" Aleksi shouted in the distance, and the others likewise paused to see what Elijah and Grace were up to. "The king might be benevolent, but do you need to destroy parts of the royal section of the Dungeon?"

"It'll grow back!" Grace shouted back in response, laughing when Aleksi just shook his head and went back to watching Jack work. "... Can you see if it's growing back?"

"Way ahead of you."

Channeling of [Breathe Life] has been activated! Current cost: 51MP/sec

The high supply of Mana nearly pulled Elijah out of his own body, as his mind delved far deeper into the fallen tree than before. Every piece of it was studied, every place where the manifestation of nutrients was meant to be, and each part of the oak's primitive mind. Elijah could feel it questioning the sudden relocation, not understanding yet that it had been cut in half.

A strange experience, though it was overshadowed by how rapidly that primitive consciousness was swept away by the appearance of another.

'Here I am, letting those twerps feed on me without feeding on them, giving them food, water, and even seats, and they just keep doing this,' a young woman's voice was heard. It didn't carry the chipper notes like Grace, sounding more passively tired. 'Unbelievable! Keep this up, little rocks, and I'll add in some of those screamers so you start another one of those crusades and… Hey, wait, who are you?'

It seemed Elijah's presence hadn't gone unnoticed through the rambling.

'A human, partly, if other sources are to be believed,' he said. Elijah felt the hairs on his skin rise as what seemed like a thousand eyes searched through every inch of him. 'You're the dungeon, I take it?'

'The one and only,' the Dungeon replied in a honeyed tone. 'Oh, it has been centuries since I last talked to somebody. You people really don't come around often enough.'

'You've met others like me?'

'A few, yeah. There was Glem, my very own assistant, Thomas, an old human mage, Ruven, who was such a delight with her stories of the world, and… Huh. I'm confident there was one before her that I'm forgetting. Oh well. Point is, you're not the first, and I certainly hope you're not the last either. The new cultural standard of being quiet and professional when venturing into me is so boring. Like, I want to hear the newest gossip! Who is on the throne nowadays? Who cheated on whom, and does their partner know? Did they ever figure out who killed that Greybeard guy? I need to know!'

… To be very honest, Elijah had expected something very different.

"Hey, what's happening?" Grace asked, bringing Elijah into the physical realm again. "The air's thicker."

"The Dungeon is here," he informed her.

"Oh. Anything interesting being said?"

"I'm not sure yet."

'You're very loud,' Dawn commented, summing up Elijah's own feelings quite well as he delved into the mental world once more. 'The other eye is loud too, but you're a different kind of loud.'

'Oh my god, you've got a little soul-bound pillar with you! That is so cute!' could be heard, as a crushing weight was put onto Elijah's Core. 'Oh, sorry. Got too excited there. You two really are made of tough stuff, by the way. Pretty sure Glem would've popped if I'd done that.'

Going by the fact that Elijah had to wipe away blood from his nose, much to Grace's displeasure, he had nearly done as much.

'Just keep it under control,' Elijah requested, getting instant assurances that she would try her best to do as much. 'Before you start rambling again, I have a question.'

'Ask me anything. If I know it, I'll be happy to answer.'

Was that so?

'This entire floor is devoid of beasts, traps, and just about anything that could harm people that enter,' Elijah commented. 'The other Dungeon I've personally visited doesn't usually have enemies on the top floor either, yet that isn't a constant. According to the king, it is with you. Why?'

'Isn't it obvious?' the Dungeon asked. 'I have a net gain to maintain. As those short people have made very clear, anything I put in this section is slaughtered. Didn't matter if it was small critters or those feisty kitties. Everything was torn apart, including all the scenery I've worked so hard on, and some kid would just be sitting in the middle, taking my energy. If nothing I do can stop it, why waste energy trying to stop it? The amounts taken from me up here aren't too critical anyway, and the arrogance of others is enough to make up for those losses.'

Spoken like a true businesswoman. Elijah was confident Vera would've been proud of this Dungeon, with how casually the death and harvesting of the living was discussed.

'Anyway… Now that I've answered one of your questions, I get to ask you something. I think. It's been a few centuries since any younglings played that game where I could see them,' the Dungeon said, seeming unsure. Elijah was quick to reply that it wasn't a problem at all. 'Oh, good. I've got, like, a million questions about what's going on outside, but I do need to know a little about you before that. Just… who are you exactly? You've got the mark of a Dungeon, and a little pillar, so I'm assuming that other Dungeon you mentioned has already claimed you, but I don't recognize the signature.'

'I'm claimed, as you call it, to a Dungeon north of you. About a week's travel, when you use the dwarven railway system.'

'Oh, up there. Huh. I didn't know the dwarves had built railways that far. I suppose they fell back into the habit when they found those two so close to each other.'

'No, I think you misunderstand,' Elijah corrected, when he got enough context to understand her words. 'The two you talk about are much further north, in a country called Castilla. The Dungeon I'm referring to is between you and them at the western border.'

'... What? No, that doesn't make sense. Ruven didn't mention planting anybody there.'

Even with the disconnect to his physical shell, pure confusion caused Elijah to frown.

'What do you mean planted? Are you saying that Dungeons were planted by another entity?'

'Of course, I— Oh… Oh no. Please tell me you already knew this.'

'No?'

There was no instant reply, at least nothing directed towards Eljah. He could still hear the Dungeon, however, including a plethora of swear words that he could understand half of. Her voice seemed to be constantly swinging between legible and ancient tongues, as a mild panic attack crept through her.

And the increase in Mana around them only furthered that belief.

'Calm down,' Elijah ordered, not wanting another repeat of what had happened in Serenova not long ago. 'You promised to keep yourself composed.

'I am composed. I'm just also freaking out,' came the reply, along with a mild decrease in erratic pulses. 'Just… forget what I said. You're not meant to know about it this early if they haven't visited yet. Damn it all, I wasn't ready yet when I learned about this whole debacle. Nearly imploded, and I mean that literally, and I had been going strong for more than a thousand years at that point. Whatever Dungeon you're from, which isn't meant to be there, can't be half that age, when I don't know about them.'

Elijah wanted to demand more from her, to know what she was talking about, but the residue of repressed memories that swirled around in the mental realm made him reconsider. The edge of insanity was obvious.

'Okay, fine, I'll do my best not to mention it, but can I at least ask why it's such an anomaly that a fourth Dungeon is on this continent?'

'Fifth, technically,' the Dungeon corrected. 'Had a sister further down south a few thousand years ago. Got out too early, unfortunately, so she isn't in the picture anymore. But, whatever. The strange part is that we were told about all the others. It was… I don't know how to phrase this easily without screwing things up further. It was planned beforehand. There was a system to all of this, and the Dungeon you're from doesn't seem to be a part of that plan.'

Another piece of the puzzle, though it was only fuel for more questions which there seemed to be no chance of getting answers for.

'You're disappointed,' came the comment. 'I get that. I've been disappointed these last centuries as well. So boring to just sit around, slowly growing in power and little else.'

'Must be a peaceful life, at least.'

'You'd think so, but having intruders inside me, and being constantly aware of their every step, can be a little grating. Especially when I can't mess around with them, or they just pop or stop trying to venture deeper.'

It really was all about trying to find a cure for boredom.

'Speaking about power, though… I think I know how I can make this up to you," the Dungeon said, getting Elijah's full attention immediately. 'If you changed sides, I could give you a pretty sizeable boost. Wouldn't hurt or anything, though you'd need to stay close to me for—'

'Not interested,' Elijah blankly cut in.

'Hey, I didn't even finish with the proposal.'

'You said more than enough,' he countered. 'I have obligations and goals that take me away from the dwarven cities. And, though I loathe to admit it, the country I'm currently allegiant to has a place in my heart.'

Elijah felt a little sick when those words formed in his head.

'Well. That puts a damper on all of my great ideas.' Elijah was relatively sure he caught a bit of sulking in her voice. 'Most of them, at least. If we bend the rules a little, I could still give you an upgrade in power. Not as huge as if you were claimed by me, but enough to dazzle up your Core a little.'

'... And what would this require?' Elijah questioned, wanting the catch before anything else.

'Well, we would have to somewhat respect that you would be seen as an intruder, meaning that I would have to give you a challenge to overcome. I'd make it personalized, however, instead of just having the generic floors. It'll be fun!'

Clearly, the definition of fun was heavily subjective.

Yet Elijah didn't immediately reject the idea. He was progressing on his own already, and there was still room to grow with his skills for the next months without any kind of alteration to his Core, but the chance of another push was enticing.

A few days of preparing potions, using the favor of the dwarves for an early testing of the armor, and a finely-tuned giant wouldn't hurt.

Coupling it together with some contractual obligations so the youngsters could be protected as well wouldn't hurt.

A rare smile reached Elijah's features.

This could grow into something very beneficial.

'I'll accept, though I will need—'

'Great!' the Dungeon cut in before he could finish the sentence, the power making him clutch his head. 'Let's get this started!'

'No, stop! I didn't mean—'

It wasn't the words of the Dungeon that caused the sudden end of his words, but the feeling of his physical body feeling weightless.

Returning the bonds to his flesh, he opened his eyes and saw the earth opening up below him and Grace, swallowing them up.

In the distance, he saw Aleksi already on his feet, sprinting towards their falling forms. The giant crossed half the distance before they'd dropped a single meter, but it was too late.

There was only darkness as he and Grace fell.