Chapter 6 – Core and Creation

  I observed the mage, noting her unmistakable youth—she appeared scarcely older than her teens. Her short, neck-length hair y in disarray, and her delicate, oval face was etched with terror as her vivid green eyes registered my presence. Cd in the distinctive green robes of the Cujor Tower, she was retreating slowly along the floor, prompting me to narrow my eyes in cautious scrutiny.

  Have I met her somewhere? I wondered silently.

  Before I could dwell further on the question, I detected a confluence of mana gathering near the core. Mirabel, too, seemed to register the phenomenon, as she turned her head in that direction. In a matter of seconds, the coalesced energy transformed into a goblin mage. Like its kin, its body was cloaked in gray fur, and beneath its hooked nose, two diminutive fangs protruded sharply.

  The creature’s visage was contorted in fury, its eyes flickering with the incandescent spark of aether. I deduced immediately that it was an expert-level mage. The moment its birth was complete, it took notice of our presence and commenced incanting a spell.

  It’s fast. I arced my axe upward, releasing a scarlet surge of aura that cleaved both the spell and the mage in a single, decisive stroke.

  The goblin mage colpsed before it could execute any further action, and I observed its body disintegrating with unusual rapidity. Ordinarily, the dungeon required anywhere from an hour to an entire day to dissolve the bodies of monsters and mortals alike. Yet here, either the dungeon itself was extraordinary or the core room possessed unique properties, as I watched the goblin mage’s form gradually dissolve before my eyes.

  Gncing back at Mirabel, a realization struck me.

  Ah, she must be his sister.

  The young mage had been fixated on the disintegrating corpse when she suddenly rushed forward, her eyes scanning the remnants as if searching for something vital.

  “Ahhhh! My monster crystal!” she shrieked, rising abruptly and gesticuting with theatrical exaggeration.

  She advanced toward me with determined steps while I struggled to process the unfolding events. “Do you know what you have done?!” she demanded, her words punctuated by a spittle that nearly reached my face. I stifled a recoil. “Do you know how rare mage monsters are?! How are you pnning to compensate me?! I had to scour the whole forest for it! You’ll have to – “

  Before she could continue, I pointed my axe directly at her, silencing her protest.

  “Mirabel,” I intoned gravely, “you are trespassing upon the private property of both the kingdom and the Adventurer’s Guild by entering the core room without authorization. In my capacity as the acting guildmaster of Niege, I hereby apprehend you.” Although I remained uncertain whether she was indeed reted to my friend, the breach of the dungeon core was an offense of the highest order.

  Dungeons are strategic assets—capable of yielding valuable resources repeatedly over eons—so any threat to their integrity is treated with utmost severity by both the reigning kingdom and the Adventurer’s Guild.

  Her voice trembled as she stammered, “W-What?” It was evident she had not fully grasped the gravity of her situation, yet I afforded her no further time.

  “You owe me some answers, young dy,” I said, “What have you been doing here? What was that goblin? Why did it materialize here? From your earlier words, I’m inclined to believe that your actions have been intentional, what is your objective? Do not try to run, for I am an Aura Master.”

  Her expression flickered through a range of emotions, her eyes darting nervously as she slowly retreated. Gradually, she calmed down, and while I did not rush her for the possibility that she might be reted to my friend, I was vigint for any movement of mana or aether in this space.

  She took a deep breath before starting, “My name is Mirabel, as you are already aware. I am an experienced rank mage affiliated with the Tower of Cujor, and currently, here, I’m studying creation magic.”

  Creation magic. The magic utilized by dungeons for, well, everything.

  “Creation magic?” I scoffed lightly. The Tower of Cujor had long been notorious for its inept mages; if she were indeed pursuing creation magic, it would have been far preferable to do so at another institution. “Before we proceed, produce your identification—the one issued by the tower,” I ordered, intent on verifying both her cims and my growing suspicions.

  She hesitated before pulling out a card from her waist pouch. I noted the fist-sized pouch swallowing her hand upto her forearm. A storage bag, meaning she was rich. In moments I was looking at a small silver page that detailed her credentials.

  Name: Mirabel Stromvale

  Rank: Experienced

  Affiliation: Tower of Cujor

  Magic: Null, Ice

  …

  A few additional lines followed, filled with technical jargon likely intelligible only to seasoned mages or as part of Cujor’s internal cssification system.

  “It only says you know Null and Ice magic?” I queried.

  “Well, yeah. I am learning creation magic,” she replied with sarcasm. Clearly, she did not share the quiet reserve of her brother.

  “So, Miss Stromvale, enlighten me, why is the daughter of a margrave trying to master one of the most arduous disciplines at one of the least reputable mage towers?” I pressed, my voice ced with deliberate disdain.

  “Well, there can be multiple reasons,” she hesitated to say more.

  “I’m all ears,” I urged.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’m a bachelor. Time is one thing I have plenty of,” I remarked with a self-assured smirk.

  She looked at me before huffing. “Fine, you want the whole story?” I nodded. “Okay then. Unlike you boorish people who swing metal all day, we mages try to learn the truths of the world, and the truth is, there is no decent teacher of creation magic in Dreseon.”

  “Still, why come to Cujor? Or a dungeon for that matter?” I asked, but it occurred to me before she could answer, “Ah, because dungeons are reputed to epitomize creation magic?”

  She nodded, “This one,” pointing around herself to the dungeon, “was a small dungeon. Recently emerged, commercially insignificant, and in our territory too. I thought, if I have to learn from a dungeon –“

  “This will be the best choice,” I finished for her, nodding along, “after all, it has only one floor, weak monsters, and located in an isoted town. The locals won’t suspect a thing.”

  “They didn’t, I just had to rent the deepest recesses from the guild for a more legal cover,” she mumbled, “I don’t know where you came from.”

  I ignored the unsaid question, continuing, “Either the previous guildmaster was ignorant or x, but that doesn’t expin what you are doing here?”

  She sighed, “Do you have to know everything?” she sighed again on seeing me stare without responding, “Let me just show you.”

  She pulled out another monster crystal from her bag. “This is from a normal goblin,” she said, pointing to the thumb sized specimen.

  My brow furrowed, “Don’t goblins have fingernail sized crystals?” I inquired.

  “Yes,” she replied, then eborated, “normal goblins have fingernail sized crystals, but as they continue living in a dungeon, they grow, along with their crystals, before evolving when a certain threshold is reached.”

  “And your presence in core room fits in all this, how?” I inquired, now keenly interested.

  “Observe,” she said, pcing the crystal in her left hand while her right hand unleashed intricate tendrils of magic. Gradually, the crystal began to emit slender threads of mana that merged seamlessly with the stream enveloping the dungeon core. As this occurred, the crystal diminished in size until it vanished entirely.

  “When the crystal is unraveled, instead of letting the dungeon absorb it normally,” she expined as mana coalesced in one spot, “it allows the dungeon to resurrect the monster. In fact, when forming their new body, the dungeon takes into account their experiences, thereby producing a being that is not only more capable and robust but also imbued with greater wisdom than its predecessor.”

  Before me now stood a humanoid monster – a creature reminiscent of a simian goblin, yest distinct enough to be cssified as a separate species. Whereas its kin were typically nky and shrouded in dense fur for insution, this specimen was notably robust, as though enhanced by some unnatural vigor, and its sparse fur made it look hirsute instead of furry.

  It moved on the first instance of noticing us, its form purposeful, athletic, a stark contrast to the instinctive, clumsy motions exhibited by its brethren.

  Mirabel cast a shield before us, and the monster seemed to detect it, stopping just outside. Cocking back its fist, it delivered a sold strike, producing some cracks that soon mended under Mirabel’s manipution.

  “I wasn’t just learning creation magic here,” Mirabel was giving me the stink eyes, rousing me out of my deeply engrossed state, “before someone came along and ruined it.”

  An icicle materialized and hurtled toward the goblin, lodging itself in its eye, showing the difference between the mage and the warrior. As the goblin colpsed, she swiftly pulled out a dagger and moved to remove the monster crystal.

  “So you mean to say that, every time the crystal is, uh, unraveled and fed to the dungeon core, the monster comes back stronger?” my voice held a certain apprehension.

  She nodded. “Not just stronger, it also adapts to the method of death, albeit slightly. This goblin” she pointed to the dissolving corpse, “had gotten faster and stronger over the iterations, while the mage you killed, my primary target, was versed in spell fight.”

  I deliberated on her words, comparing the pros and cons of this process, when voice inside me resonated its approval.

  It’s perfect!

  “It’s dangerous,” I refuted.

  “It’s enlightening,” Mirabel added.

  I gave her a ft stare. “Don’t judge me,” she said, maniputing her magic.

  Soon, I was looking at a small, humanoid figure of ice. To my astonishment, even when she had cut off her connection to it, the doll sized figure continued to move, albeit with clumsiness.

  “It’s a technique I devised by imitating the dungeon’ creation process,” she expined. “Even creating this toy required repeated attempts and an aether control that still makes my head hurt. That mage was vital for my training.”

  In the brief time she had finished her words, her creation had crumbled, though it still moved, evoking conflicting emotions inside me.

  “The only way for the creatures to resurrect,” she said, perhaps sensing my worries, “is if the crystal is unraveled here, in the core room. In every other circumstance I’ve observed, the monsters spawn from the dungeon walls outside.”

  Brago130sf