Back at the hotel, Al and Mahya were gone. I made myself comfortable on the couch with one sword and got to work figuring out its aspect. The tal was completely unfamiliar. It didn't resemble anything I’d examined on Earth or anywhere else. After about fifteen minutes, I thought I had it. I pulled out a mana crystal and tried to aspect it to match the tal.
That’s where I hit a serious snag.
No matter what I did, it just wouldn’t take. I had both the sword and the crystal wrapped in my mana sense—basically the magical version of holding them inside myself, as close as possible. It should’ve been a breeze to copy the aspect over. But nope. Didn’t matter how many tis I tried or how I adjusted; it flat-out refused to work.
I grabbed a different sword, one I "confiscated" from a fighter in Almatai, checked its tal, and tried aspecting a crystal to it. It worked like a charm.
Maybe because it’s steel and I’m familiar with it?
To test it, I asked my core for a random piece of junkyard tal. I studied its aspect, then tried to imprint it onto a crystal. It took longer, but I managed.
Back to the first sword. Still nothing.
Tried a few more tals. Again, no problem.
Back to my swords?
No. No. And nope.
I sat there, stumped, poking at the sword’s tal with my mana sense, trying to figure out what the problem was. There was sothing. The tal was just as unfamiliar as before, but it had a faint quality that tickled my sense of familiarity. It was subtle—barely there—and the more I focused, the more it slipped away. But when I let my mind wander and just sensed it without trying too hard, sothing dinged. I latched onto that feeling and followed it until the pieces clicked into place.
The swords were made of an alloy. And one component of the alloy I did know.
I looked through my Storage for random tals. The nature spear from Tuonela. No. Bolts from the trap dungeon. No. Bolts from quill-bears. Still a no. Then I found the healing staff from my first dungeon and rubbed my face in exasperation. I’d been so excited when I got it, then stuck it in Storage and forgot all about it. Classic. But self-exasperation aside, it actually gave sothing. The mithril pieces on the staff felt familiar. Examining the sword again confird it. Mithril was part of the alloy, but only a tiny part. Maybe ten percent.
Once I cracked the first part of the alloy, the rest ca easier. It turned out that the swords had two more types of tal mixed in. Both were still unfamiliar, but at least it was a step in the right direction. Aspecting the crystal with the full composite still didn’t work. But when I tried to aspect a crystal to each tal separately, it did.
It didn’t make any sense, and it bugged . I could aspect crystals to lightning with no problem, and that was a blend of air and fire. So, why not with tal?
No clue. But it was what it was.
I tried a different approach. I aspected the crystals to the individual components, then used my mana to liquefy and rge them. That thod worked perfectly. Now the only issue left to tackle was the percentages. The first crystal I rged only had about ten percent resonance with the swords—the ratios were completely off.
Rue poked my cheek with his nose. “Rue is hungry.”
“I see you’re busy,” Mahya said. “I’ll take him to eat.”
My head jerked up. When did they get back? I hadn’t even noticed them co in. Anyway, I nodded to her and went back to my experints.
By the ti I got the ratio right, the crystal was the size of an orange. I kept adding smaller aspected crystals to it, and it kept growing. One look at the poml, and I shook my head. No way it would ever fit. So now what? How do I cut it down to size? I already knew trying to slice it with anything was a waste of ti. After so thought—and a whole lot of regeneration, because rging crystals drained mana like crazy—I liquefied it again and divided it into four parts. Oddly enough, that was the easiest thing I did all day. And, for so reason, the one that made feel the happiest.
I looked at the crystals in my hand, humd in thought, and started making more aspected ones. If my swords needed feeding, and the blacksmith needed to saturate them—whatever that ant—I ’d need a decent supply. Better to make them now, while I still had the aspects fresh in mind. Or… well, fresh in mana sense.
By the ti I finished, the sky outside had shifted to that deep purple shade right before full dark, and Mahya and Al were back.
Mahya spotted moving and tilted her head. “All done?”
I stretched my arms over my head until my back popped. “Yeah.”
She stepped closer, eyeing the crystals scattered across the table. “What were you doing?”
I picked up one of the swords and turned it in my hand. “Turns out the swords I got from Lis are infused. And apparently, they need feeding. I found soone who can handle it, but I had to make compatible mana crystals first.”
Mahya plucked the sword from my hand and turned it over with a focused frown. “Attuned? Really?” She angled it to catch the light, her eyes narrowing. “Wow. I didn’t know. I would have told you if I did. Lis didn’t say anything.”
I snorted and leaned back. “The conniving bastard probably wanted to figure it out myself.”
She laughed and handed the sword back. “Yeah, that sounds like him all right.”
We headed out for dinner and made our way to the mall. As usual, “our” entrance dumped us straight into the food court.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
I glanced at both of them as we walked past a stall selling candies. “Don’t you find this strange?”
Al tilted his head, eyes flicking to . “What?”
“That the entrances change?”
He didn’t even break stride. “No. In Leylos, dungeon cores are widely employed to produce various effects.” He paused to glance at a display of drinks, then continued, “However, I must admit the extent of the spatial expansion here was unfamiliar to . The buildings I am accustod to did not utilize it, likely because we have ample space and little need for such asures. Other effects, such as shifting entrance points, are well within my experience.”
I turned to Mahya as we paced a place selling spices. She shrugged. “I didn’t co across this specific application, but I’ve seen others, so much more complex. So… no?”
They took to a very interesting restaurant for dinner. We paid fifteen gold coins for each of us and thirty for Rue—drinks not included, which felt a little greedy, considering the price.
The place was enormous. Long rows of tables held giant bowls brimming with ingredients, all neatly organized and sohow still looking like barely contained chaos. There were over fifty kinds of at and poultry, fish of all shapes and sizes, and a good variety of water critters I didn’t have nas for. Fruits and vegetables ca in every color of the rainbow, and the nuts and berries filled entire sections by themselves. The spices and herbs were overwhelming—a whole counter’s worth, in little glass jars and big wooden scoops. Mushrooms? Galore. And then there were… other things. Squishy things. Wriggling things. Things that might’ve blinked.
We were handed smaller bowls and pointed toward the buffet. You picked what you wanted from the massive spread, then brought your bowl to a central grill—basically a huge tal plate, glowing faintly with enchantnts. The workers there tossed everything onto it, flipping and mixing it around until it was cooked.
It was an all-you-can-eat buffet. Smart choice for our furry companion.
Rue got a bigger bowl, naturally. He held it up with telekinesis and made his rounds. at and more at, stacked so high the bowl looked like it might topple over. Nobody batted an eye at a giant dog levitating his own bowl and picking out his dinner. When I looked around, I noticed other familiars too, mostly cats, casually choosing their als. So held their bowls with telekinesis, others were served by their humans. With every passing mont, I liked high mana worlds more and more.
I took my ti, hanging back until the others were already at the grill. I couldn’t exactly taste the raw ats or fish, but everything else was fair ga. The fruits were sweet, the herbs sharp, and so mushrooms had a nutty, earthy flavor that lingered in a good way. They even had tiny spoons and delicate cake forks set out so people could sample the food before committing.
And yeah… I absolutely did.
Over dinner, I looked up from my plate and asked, “Don’t you think the prices here are insane?”
Mahya didn’t even blink. “Not really,” she said, casually spearing a piece of grilled vegetable and popping it into her mouth.
I stared at her, fork halfway to my mouth. Seriously?
Al wiped his hands on a cloth napkin and gave a patient look. “You have to shift your perspective,” he said. “When higher-value coins are part of regular circulation, everything loses so of its perceived worth.”
He reached for his drink, pausing only to make sure I was still following. “Here, they do not use copper coins at all. Silver fills that role. Gold coins are the new silver, and mithril coins hold the kind of value gold has in lower mana worlds. If you think of the prices from that perspective, they will begin to make more sense.”
“So we need to get so mithril,” I said.
Al chuckled, setting down his glass. “That would certainly help.”
Mahya leaned forward, eyes gleaming with a familiar scheming spark. “They built this outpost here for a reason,” she said, slightly lowering her voice. “There are a lot of dungeons in the area. So of them even have multiple instances.”
“You can’t steal the cores here,” I said.
Mahya gave a look like I’d grown a second head. “Of course not. I’m not suicidal. In this case, the rewards are worth it even without the cores.”
I crossed my arms. “Didn’t you get your fill of dungeons in Zindor?”
She waved a hand dismissively, already halfway into planning mode. “You’re the one who wants mithril.”
“We can trade for it,” I pointed out.
“True,” she said, tilting her head and grinning. “But that’s the boring option.”
I shook my head, a tired smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. She had a one-track mind, and I knew it. Why was I even surprised?
“I think it is a good idea,” Al said, folding his hands neatly on the table. “Not for the mithril, but so that you may experience one or two dungeons in a high-mana world. They are entirely different.”
I leaned back in my chair, letting his words sit for a mont. “I’ll think about it,” I said. “After I take care of my swords.”
We got drunk again during dinner, but this ti I actually woke up in my bed. Mostly undressed, at least my boots were off, and I had a vague mory of stumbling back. Apparently, Rue had herded us to the hotel like drunk, uncooperative livestock. Or, as he kept calling us with great exasperation, “stupid cats.” That part was crystal clear. Every ti one of us veered off to admire a streetlamp or tried to pet a decorative statue, there he was, trotting beside us and nudging us back into line with a grumpy ntal voice and the patience of a long-suffering babysitter. I think he even growled at Al when he tried to fight a tree.
The rest? Total blur.
In the morning, over a surprisingly delicious breakfast of baked fruit with eggs and at—yeah, it sounded weird, but it worked—I cleared my throat and tried to sound casual. “Hey, Mahya. Can I borrow your flying sword?”
She didn’t even look up. “No.”
I straightened in my seat and held up my hands in preemptive defense. “It’s not for flying,” I added quickly. “I want to show it to the blacksmith. Figure out how it’s made.”
Now she looked up, one eyebrow already climbing as she set down her fork with exaggerated care. “So… you want my sword. The one I like. The one I use. To hand over to so random guy with a hamr?”
“She’s not random,” I said, leaning slightly across the table. “And I’ll be there the whole ti.”
Mahya leaned back in her chair, arms crossing slowly, her lips pulling into a thin line. “No.”
I sighed, raked a hand through my hair, and tried a different angle. “Look, it might help replicate it. If I can figure out how they made it, we might be able to make more—or sothing even better. I did promise Rue.”
Rue looked at her and gave her his best puppy eyes, tongue hanging out in a doggy grin. He even tilted his head slightly and let out a hopeful little whuff.
Her eyes narrowed. “So I give you my sword, and you lt it down?”
“I’m not lting anything. I’m just showing it. I swear.”
She drumd her fingers on her arm, gaze sharp enough to shave tal. “If you so much as scratch it—”
“I’ll replace it.”
She blinked and tilted her head, just slightly. “With what?”
“With a new one,” I said. “I’ll go to that cultivators’ world myself and get you another.”
That made her pause. She squinted at , as if trying to spot the catch. “You’re actually offering to Gate-hop just for that?”
I nodded solemnly. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout.”
“Still counts.”
She studied like she was trying to find a hidden clause carved into my forehead. “And?”
“And I’ll do a couple of dungeons here with you. Not saying I’ll enjoy it, but I’ll do it.”
“Three.”
“One.”
“Three.”
“One and a half. If the second one is full of weird stuff, I’m out.”
She huffed, rolled her eyes, and muttered, “Fine. But no complaints.”
“No promises.”
She threw her hands in the air and muttered sothing that sounded like it started with 'idiot' and ended in 'sword thief,' but she still gave the sword. With a theatrical sigh, she reached for it, held it out with mock ceremony, and dropped it into my waiting hands.
I took it reverently, demonstrably cradling it as if it were forged from glass and paper. “Your sacred relic is safe with ,” I said.
“You’re impossible,” she said, arms crossing again.
I gave her my best cheeky grin. “And yet, you still love .”
She gave a long, slow look. “Yeah,” she said, voice full of fond exasperation. “But sotis, I have no idea why.”
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