Day 77, 9:45 AM

  My head is pounding. I should ask Edna whether she can do some aspirin magic or something. While loathe to, I open my eyes, my guts queasy.

  “Hello, crazy person,” Edna greets me with excessive cheeriness. “What did I teach you about flushing all mana from your body?”

  That explains the hangover. “Not to do it.”

  She smacks me with a stick she found somewhere. “So, why did you do it?”

  That’s an excellent question. I certainly didn’t mean to feed a spell with everything I had until I passed out from mana deficiency. I try to remember what it was that I had done, and I recall visualizing a tidal wave of flame devouring the jungle before me. Then I fed it mana, and yeah, I understand how I got here.

  “I was preoccupied with making sure the sparks didn’t die out, and must have fed the spell more mana than I intended.” Or maybe I intended to feed it that much mana to fan the fire to life.

  Whatever. I’m alive, I won’t do it again, and I won’t use the stupid firewave either. It uses too much mana to clear some shrubbery.

  “What’s the agenda for today?” I ask.

  “The first thing is for you to check your BSD and tell me whether there are any changes.”

  [Name - Fyoor Enchanterson

  Class - mage level 0

  Health 25/25, Strength - 25, Agility - 25, Physique - 25, Wisdom - 30, Intellect - 35, Willpower - 26, Presence - 22, Charisma - 23, Composure - 25

  Abilities - See Abilities for more information.

  Attribute points remaining - 7

  To level up, double your mana capacity.

  Statuses - none]

  “I’m a level zero mage. My level up condition is to double my mana capacity.” I look at Edna. “How do I do that?”

  “Increased Mana Capacity is one of the first skills mages acquire outside of leveling. You do it by drawing mana until you over-saturate your body, then cast spells until you’re near exhaustion, and repeat the process for months or years.”

  She seems surprisingly happy that I have to waste a huge amount of time to reach the next level. Then again, she just got that extra attribute point, so she’s not in as much of a bind as she was seventy-seven days ago, when I first reincarnated in Everrain.

  I glance at my stats again, seven unspent attribute points dancing happily before my eyes.

  “Does mana capacity increase with wisdom? Intellect?”

  “I read a respectable book discussing the relationship between physique and mana capacity. Most authorities agreed after running tests and offered the title as further reading material on the subject.”

  I’m tempted to just dump five points into physique. Better perception, sturdier body, and increased mana capacity, all in one. But it would leave me with too few attribute points. Do I really need that stash? Possibly. For the worst-case scenarios.

  Plus, there’s a good reason against it. I can always increase my mana capacity naturally as much as possible, before further enhancing that with attribute points.

  Edna lets me think quietly, but speaks when focus returns to my eyes.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “One more thing, Griff. You know how spells are stronger the more mana you invest in them?” I nod. She’s already explained it, and mentioned the existence of a cap, which can be increased through Initial Mana Overflow.

  “The Honorable Alchbert’s Wave of Fire you cast was more powerful than mine. You can cast it at full power, with a slight bonus from Advanced Mana Ambivalence. Which means you already have about a third of my full mana capacity. That might seem insignificant to you, but trust me, you’re probably the strongest level zero mage to have ever taken the class.”

  She’s acting like she was hesitant to say that, but I can see a sparkle of pride in her eyes. Probably because the most powerful mage ever started off as her apprentice.

  My stomach chooses that moment to complain.

  “Do you mind if I have some breakfast? I’m starving.”

  ***

  Gila has kept the food warm for me, may a benevolent deity bless her, assuming one exists. I wolf it down, and we head for the next floor, and the next. The fiftieth floor also houses an easy-to-slay centipede, but that should be the end of the easy floors.

  Somewhere between floors fifty-one and seventy-five, there’s a floor which spawns the centipedes, and I guess we’ll have an easy time once we reach it, should we reach it.

  “Lucy, Gila, you remember the deal?” They nod.

  The girls agreed to scour the floors for minerals, starting from the fiftieth, heading up to the thirtieth while Edna and I move forward. That means they wouldn’t benefit from our kills, but Edna and I are assuming all minor abominations on the deeper floors have evolved.

  The abominations have had decades of dungeon-spawned meals to feast upon, which is both a blessing and a curse. Their increased strength is the main drawback, but there are plenty of advantages. Unlike the abominations roaming the wilds, these have only ever fought one type of enemy, an enemy much weaker than they were.

  Hopefully, that means their instincts have dulled.

  The fifty-first floor is just as overgrown as those before. Dead foliage is moist, making for a surface as slick as oil.

  “Edna,” I say, properly alone with her for the first time since we entered the dungeon. “Has the dungeon changed compared to when you were younger?”

  She nods. “Some of it is subtle, like the slippery surfaces, the wind, the constant noise, and such, but the lighting is a huge difference. I don’t know why that is. The floors were bright at all times when I and other mages explored it decades ago.”

  She gestured towards the aberration. “It’s there. Do you want to continue this conversation after we’re done with our work?”

  I nod and follow her directions, Edna walking twenty paces behind me. She’s right, of course, while we both have high mental attributes, it’s best to focus on the job at hand.

  And once we clear the dungeon, I’m going to do a delve with the scanner spell active at all times to get used to it. While I burn with the desire to use it, making such a huge change while fighting lethal creatures is the peak of stupidity. Best to practice with lobsters and work my way up.

  And thinking of lobsters, the ground shakes and squelches as a mound larger than an elephant stomps its way towards us. Trees creak and topple over, spewing acids and alkaline solutions which fizzle and foam where they collide, but the gigantic horseshoe crab crossbred with a stag beetle steals all my attention.

  The creature is over eight feet tall, its branching horns coated in a viscous, neon-green liquid, almost certainly a poison. It keeps its shell so close to the ground, it’s plowing it. A pair of thick, leathery tentacles bash trees which obstruct its path. The abomination is impossibly slow, moving forward in noisy jerks, as its two sets of black eyes, reflective like mirrors, show our distorted reflections. While I stare, the monster takes another three-yard-long step, closing in on us.

  A regular, running human could escape this behemoth, but I’m guessing it can outlast its opponents and probably tear down buildings with hardly any effort.

  It sweeps its tentacle towards me, a blot of venom dropping from its horns and sizzling on the ground.

  I dodge the surprisingly slow attack, and two trees topple and crash as the massive tentacle smashes into them and tears their roots from the ground. I let it attack twice more before confirming what I’m seeing really is the extent of its combat ability.

  I take a running jump and leap. The thing doesn’t even try to hit me as I run across its back. As soon as I mount it, I mentally command the monster to be still, and it freezes.

  “Edna, what the hell is this thing?”

  “That’s a basher. It has an incredibly tough shell, and wormlords used them at the front lines to block enemy fire aimed at their more fragile creations.”

  “What do we do with it?”

  “Kill it, of course. We can then use magic to transfer the properties of its carapace onto your staff. That thing eats precious plants and minerals, infuses them into its armor, making it tougher.”

  I smile at her idea. She cares about Batsy.

  “How do we kill it, though? I don’t think I can bash it to death, and there are no cracks or folds in this shell.” The thing is really just a giant, mobile rock topped with a pair of toxic elk-like horns meant to impale anything too slow or too stupid to move out of its way.

  “We killed them by littering the battlefield with traps. I will set one up, you direct it to walk over it, and that’s it. The shell will keep you safe where you are while its soft insides explode.”

  I like the plan. Landmines were my weapon of choice at one period, and they should perform well in our current situation.

  I watch Edna cast the spell, infusing a large rock with a ton of red mana, enough that I wonder whether I’ll really get away with what I’m about to do unscathed.

  “You sure about this?”

  “Positive, steer it towards the trap.”