Chapter 25

Mike looked tired when he met us for dinner the evening before we were scheduled to enter the dungeon. We’d opted to meet at an actual restaurant instead of just eating in the dining hall, and Stephen had agreed to join us so we could discuss our plans for the delve.

We arrived right as the sun slipped below the horizon and the aurora became visible in the rapidly darkening sky.

“You look exhausted,” I commented when the Earth Magi settled into his seat. “Are they not giving you enough breaks?”

“I’m getting plenty of breaks,” Mike replied as he picked up the slim menu in front of him. “I just pushed myself a bit to finish the project I was working on. The airship is supposed to arrive in the morning, and the guild wants everything finished by then.”

“They aren’t worried about the expected attack?” Stephen asked.

The rumors about a demon attack had only gotten stronger over the last couple of days, and most of the public believed that an attack was imminent.

The procedures for such things were a part of our mandatory reading, so I was fully aware of the expectations in place should the city come under attack.

As copper-rankers, we were expected to enter the dungeon as soon as the alarm sounded since we couldn’t meaningfully contribute to the fight and our presence in the shelters would only crowd things further.

The reinforced shelters were only meant for children and a selection of non-combatants who served as their caregivers during the crisis. The rest were expected to contribute to the city’s defense unless the fight was deemed unwinnable.

If that were to happen, the defenders would collapse the entrance to the underground shelters, then retreat into the dungeon as well. As long as the demons didn’t make it inside, the children would remain safe since each shelter had access to several weeks’ worth of food and water, as well as fresh air and purification artifacts.

“I guess the news hasn’t been released widely yet,” Mike commented, looking up from the menu. “The delvers on the airship headed this way already took care of most of the demons. There was a strong party of platinum rankers among the passengers, and they took care of everything. Unless there was another incursion somewhere else, the city shouldn’t see more than a handful of demons anytime soon.”

“That’s good,” I said.

Truth be told, I didn’t like the thought of retreating to the dungeon if the city came under attack, but I understood the need for it. At our strength, even our vast experience wouldn’t do us much good against higher evolution opponents.

After giving our orders to the waiter, the conversation shifted to our plans the next day. Since we were in a public location, Stephen didn’t openly state he could shift forms, but he gave enough hints that I didn’t think Cora or Mike would be overly surprised when he showed them inside the dungeon.

“Can you attach magical effects to your arrows?” Cora asked.

“No, but I have a magical attack, Shadow Bolt, if a regular arrow isn’t enough. I guess technically, I can cast Bleed on the arrow to make the injuries bleed more, but I haven’t practiced using it that way. It’s still a relatively new skill.”

“I used to have a Shadow Bolt spell,” Cora commented. “I wonder if the one you have is anything like my old one.”

“Ascender Dungeons supposedly recycle the old skills of Ascenders who arrive within them,” I said thoughtfully. “Unless there is another former Shadow or Darkness Mage among the local Ascenders, it might actually be your old spell.”

“That would be a bit ironic,” Cora chuckled. “I wish there was some way to see a list of every skillbook the dungeon has produced and compare it to what the dungeon used to provide before it evolved.”

“I think the Association keeps track of all of that. Obviously, they only know what delvers share with them, but I’m sure there’s a record of everything, somewhere.”

“Oh, for sure,” Cora agreed. “I’ve heard a few people theorizing about the dungeon’s new elemental inclinations. So far, most people agree that the dungeon is leaning toward space-based skills, though that is mostly because the old dungeon never produced a space-based skillbook before evolving.”

“Well, it’s not like the dungeon isn’t going to produce skillbooks of other elements and aspects, regardless of what its inclinations are,” I pointed out. “I just hope I can get a few more elements to round out my magic before I reach the first evolution.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage it,” Mike said, pausing when our food was delivered. Once the waiter departed, he added, “Even if you have to buy them, you’re only looking for basic elemental skills. I doubt the cost will be too high.”

“On the topic of skillbook prices, have you heard how much the Association is paying for Portal skillbooks?” Cora asked, shaking her head. “I heard a group of iron-rankers talking about it, and they were paid in steel. That’s obscene for a single skillbook.”

Steel was a denomination that most didn’t encounter until near their second evolution. To put it in perspective, a single steel bit was worth a million copper bits.

Obviously, the difference in the value of the materials themselves wasn’t that extreme, but nearly all coins came from the dungeon, and they had special properties that made them far more valuable than their composition suggested.

A million copper bits seemed like an obscene amount for a single skillbook, and that was just what the Association was paying, not what they were reselling it for.

“I guess the demand is pretty high, then?” Stephen said. “What is the plan if we encounter one of the more valuable skillbooks while we are delving together?”

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“We sell it, of course. Unless someone actually wants and needs whatever skill it is,” Mike said before glancing at me and Cora to gauge our reactions.

“I’m fine with that,” I said. “Though, if we found something good like Portal, selling it would provide enough money for me to get an asolade and maybe a beast companion skill to make raising it easier.”

My comment drew questioning looks from all three of my companions.

“An asolade? What is that?”

I felt the impulse to gush at how absolutely adorable the creatures were. Instead, I kept myself perfectly calm as I described the small, fluffy creatures that had stolen my heart during the simulation.

“They aren’t very big. At full-grown, most are no bigger than the palm of one’s hand if not counting their fluffy tails,” I explained. “They look and act like a mix between a kitten and a sugar glider.”

The term kitten translated easily enough, but it seemed sugar gliders did not have a local analog.

At their confused expressions, I said, “I’ll show you a picture later, unless you want to stop by a pet store on the way back? They aren’t really meant as combat partners, though they do have access to minor forms of magic, even at low levels.”

“We had a shadow wyvern as a pet before we ascended,” Cora said longingly. “Wally was the best wyvern. It’s just too bad beasts don’t ascend the same way we do.”

“How would that work in this realm?” Mike asked. “In our old realm, Wally could hunt and gain levels on his own. But if the asolade isn’t a creature likely to hunt on its own…”

“In the simulation, I delved alone to level my asolade. There are, or were, devices that you can buy that will funnel most of the essence in a fight to a single participant. I can probably make something that would work similarly, even if the technology has been lost since then.

“You can also just feed them essence cores to help them grow. Beasts don’t have the same contribution limitation for absorbing cores,” I informed them. “I originally planned to wait until after I reached bronze rank to get an asolade, but if we found ourselves with excess funds, I’d rather go ahead and get one early so it can grow with me.”