A few hours later the three of them erged from the labyrinth’s dark mouth back into daylight. The sun was still high in the sky, its heat washing over them like a new world after the damp chill below.
Viola squinted against the brightness, wiping a streak of gri from her cheek. “That’s it? We’re done already?” she muttered, her sword resting on her shoulder. “I was just getting ward up.”
Ludger shifted the weight of his pack, the clink of ore inside faintly audible. “We’ve been down there for three hours,” he said dryly. “You’ve got enough holes on your cloak to prove it.”
She wrinkled her nose, unconvinced. “But we could’ve gone deeper—”
“No,” he cut her off, his voice flat but firm. “We got what we needed. You got ambush drills. I got cores.” He glanced at her sideways. “Going back in now just ans we get tired and sloppy and co out with wounds instead of loot. We’re not here to make a hero’s last stand.”
Viola huffed, dragging her sword tip along the packed earth as they walked back toward the city gates. “Fine. But tomorrow we’re going deeper.”
Ludger’s smirk flickered. “Tomorrow we’ll go back. If you’re still walking.”
Luna walked silently on the other side of Viola, the small sar of dust on her cheek the only sign she’d fought at all. Her eyes kept scanning the crowds around the gates as they blended back into the noise of ira City.
The sun glinted off the red-silver of Ludger’s armguards as he adjusted his pack. Enough for one day. We’re still alive, and we’re learning. That’s all that matters.
Behind them, the labyrinth’s entrance crouched at the foot of the mountains, already swallowing another group of adventurers whole.
Back at the guildhall the air felt almost warm compared to the labyrinth’s chill. Dust motes floated lazily in the sunbeams slanting through the cracked windows. Viola dumped her pack by the wall with a groan, her sword clinking against it. Luna moved past her without a word, already heading for the small washroom to clean up.
“You two rest,” Ludger said, voice flat but leaving no room for argunt. “Eat, clean your gear, sleep if you want. We’re done for today.”
Viola opened her mouth like she might protest, then thought better of it and slumped onto a bench, muttering about “wasting daylight” under her breath.
Ludger didn’t sit. He crossed to the doorway and leaned against the fra, eyes fixed on the street outside but his thoughts still deep underground.
Those things weren’t pure tal, he mused, turning one of the cores over in his hand. They were using mana to bind and harden loose stone, turning it into iron and then magnetizing it to keep the parts floating.
He could still feel the way the shards had flown—how they’d seed to snap together mid-air, like filings to a lodestone. They weren’t just shooting rocks. They were shooting guided fragnts, all locked into the sa field.
His thumb rubbed the core, feeling the faint pulse of mana inside. If I can figure out how they’re doing that—reinforcing, binding, and pulling at the sa ti—maybe I can build on what Gaius tried to teach .
A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth, sharp and thoughtful. One more step toward real earth magic… or sothing even nastier.
Behind him, the guildhall was quiet except for the sound of Viola unlacing her boots and Luna’s soft movents. The sun outside still stood high, but Ludger’s mind was already back in the labyrinth, dissecting every move the monsters had made.
He pulled the small cores out of his pouch—three dull lumps shot through with faint, glowing veins—and set them in a rough triangle before him.
The afternoon light fell across his hands as he laid his palms over his knees and closed his eyes. Slow breaths. In, out. [Spiritual Core] humming softly in his chest like a second heartbeat.
Feel it, not force it, he reminded himself. Like Gaius said—earth already has mana inside it. You have to sense it first before you can touch it.
He extended his awareness, letting his sage senses seep outward. Threads of faint energy pricked at the edge of his perception—the weight of mana in the stone walls around him, the lazy current drifting through the air, the slow, dense thrum inside the ore cores in front of him.
It was different from water or wind. Heavy. Rooted. Like a deep pulse in the ground.
He focused on the cores. The mana inside them was still active, not alive but resonant, like an echo of the elentals’ bodies. He tried to picture the field that had bound the fragnts together, the way the shards had flown as if magnetized.
If I can trace that connection… see how they wove it…
The faint glow of his Spiritual Core pulsed once, reaching for the threads of energy around the ores. Tiny vibrations trembled in the dust at his knees.
Ludger cracked one eye open, watching. “Co on,” he muttered under his breath. “Show the trick.”
The cores sat there, faintly glowing, the weight of their mana brushing against his senses like a heavy tide. It wasn’t obedience, but it was a start. He exhaled slowly, fingers flexing. Closer.
Ludger’s eyelids lowered again, his breathing steady. The faint glow of his [Spiritual Core] swelled in his chest, feeding more mana into his hands. He could feel the dense hum inside the ore cores, like heavy drums muffled under stone. They refused to move, the energy sluggish, rooted in place.
Fine, he thought, jaw tightening. If you won’t show , I’ll drag it out of you.
He shifted his focus and pushed. Mana surged from his core down his arms and into the space between the cores, a steady, deliberate pulse rather than a burst. His palms hovered a few centiters over the stones, fingers splayed.
For a heartbeat nothing happened—just the heavy presence of earth mana pressing against his own.
Then the air thickened. Dust on the floor trembled. The cores gave off a low, tallic hum, their faint glow brightening as his mana tried to latch onto theirs. A subtle pressure built between them, like magnets fighting alignnt.
Ludger clenched his teeth, holding the push. Sweat beaded at his temple. The glow in the ores flared and a ripple of grit crept toward his knees. The space between the cores shimred faintly, as if an invisible field were forming.
That’s it… just a little more…
He poured a little extra mana into the pulse. The cores vibrated harder, and for a split second he felt them tug at one another—like a string had been drawn taut between all three. Then the connection snapped. The glow died back down, leaving only warm stones and a faint tallic taste in the air.
Ludger exhaled sharply, lowering his hands. His core still throbbed, his reserves noticeably lighter.
“Damn,” he muttered. “So close.”
But his eyes were sharp, thoughtful. He’d seen it—the beginning of the pull, the ghost of the elentals’ trick. A real thread to chase next ti.
Behind him, the guildhall was still quiet, the sunlight slanting across the floor. He flexed his fingers, already thinking through the next attempt.
Ludger sat back on his heels, the cores still faintly warm on the floor in front of him. He rubbed his forearms where the last surge of mana had burned through, then reached for his pack.
From an inner pocket he pulled out a small, battered notebook and a stub of charcoal. He began to sketch the triangle he’d ford, adding quick notes in a tight, precise hand—pulse strength, distance between cores, the exact mont the “pull” had started before it broke.
His expression stayed calm, but his thoughts were sharp. Increasing my stats, unlocking new skills, even this Teacher class—none of it makes the hard things just happen. You still have to understand the chanism, know how to apply the strength. Push too hard and it slips through your fingers.
He glanced at the cores, the mory of that brief magnetic tug still vivid. Mind and body both. Otherwise, I’m just another brute throwing mana at a wall.
A faint smirk tugged at his mouth as he scribbled a final line: “field resonance?” He closed the notebook with a soft snap, slipping it back into his pack.
The guildhall was quiet except for the lazy tick of sunlight moving across the floor. Viola and Luna were still resting. Outside, ira City murmured under the afternoon sun.
Ludger picked up the cores one by one, feeling their weight. Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow I will try again.
He leaned back against the wall, eyes half-lidded but still alert. For now, the experint is over. The plan wasn’t.
The next morning in the guildhall, Ludger sat at the sa spot near the door, his pack half-open and his notebook balanced on one knee. The cores lay in front of him again, but he wasn’t pushing mana through them yet—just staring, thinking.
Boots scuffed against the floor behind him. “You’re at it again?” Viola’s voice was groggy but amused. She padded over, rubbing her eyes with one hand, her sword already strapped at her hip.
Ludger didn’t look up. “Trying.”
She leaned over his shoulder, peering at the notes and the lumps of ore. “So… are you making progress, oh great sage?”
His mouth twitched. “So. Enough to know why I’m failing.”
Viola grinned, a flash of teeth. “Good. I was starting to worry you were so kind of monster who can master everything instantly. Nice to see you trip over sothing for a change.”
Ludger finally glanced up at her, one eyebrow raised. “Relieved, huh?”
“Absolutely.” She smirked. “ans I still have a chance to catch up.”
He snorted softly and closed the notebook with a snap, slipping it into his pack. “You’ll need more than a head start for that.”
Viola stuck out her tongue, but there was a lightness to her expression. The teasing wasn’t an; it was the kind of easy ribbing that ca after a fight survived together.
Ludger rose, slinging his pack over one shoulder. “Eat sothing. We’re heading back down after breakfast.”
Viola’s grin widened, her eyes sparking with excitent. “Can’t wait.”
Luna appeared from the back room, already neat and ready, glancing between them but saying nothing. Ludger caught her eye for a second, then turned toward the door.
Another day, another descent. This ti with a little more experience—and a little more to prove.
By mid-morning the three of them were already moving through ira’s streets again, gear freshly checked and packs light. The sky above was a bright, cloudless blue, but down at street level the air already slled of iron and torch smoke from the miners and adventurers heading for the labyrinth.
Ludger walked at the front, hands in his pockets, mind not entirely on the road. Maybe I should send a letter ho, he thought. If I let Mother stew too long, she’ll probably use Father as a moving target for her Mana Bolt practice. A faint, dry smile flickered at the corner of his mouth at the image. That’d be his own fault, really… but still.
Behind him Viola was practically bouncing on her toes, her sword resting across her shoulders. “We’re going to crush it today,” she said with a grin.
Luna walked in silence on the other side, eyes scanning every corner, her cloak drawn a little tighter.
As they passed the outer gates and the ground began to rise toward the mountains, the dark mouth of the labyrinth ca into view again—breathing its cool, damp air into the sunlit world. This ti, the three of them moved with a different rhythm: less gawking, fewer missteps, more alert glances at corners and ceilings.
Ludger adjusted his armguards and glanced back at them. “Sa formation as yesterday. Stay sharp. No heroics.”
Viola smirked. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll behave.”
Luna simply nodded.
The crowd at the entrance parted just enough for them to slip through. Without hesitating, Ludger led the way down the rough steps into the cool dark, the echo of their boots steady and controlled.
This ti, the labyrinth didn’t feel like a mystery swallowing them whole—it felt like a place they’d already survived once. And that made all the difference.
Hours later, after carving their way through a few ambushes, the three of them slowed their pace. The labyrinth had narrowed again into a winding corridor veined with dark ore, torches flickering just enough to throw shadows across the rough floor.
Ludger held up a hand. “Stop.”
Viola halted mid-step, blinking. “What—”
“Listen.”
At first all she heard was the slow drip of water. Then, faint but distinct, ca the sound of steel on stone and a muffled shout. Another clang followed, then a series of dull impacts echoing up from sowhere ahead.
“Fighting,” Luna murmured, already shifting her weight to the balls of her feet.
Ludger’s brow furrowed. Approaching another group mid-combat was asking for trouble. In a place like this, surprise could an a knife in the ribs before you even realized who you’d stumbled onto.
He gestured for them to hold position, leading them back a half-step to the cover of a jagged outcrop. “Stay low. We wait.”
They crouched in the flickering light, the noises ahead drifting down the corridor—clashes, scraping, sothing heavy striking rock. But the fight didn’t end. No victorious shout, no running footsteps. Just a strange, continuous rhythm of battle that went on and on.
Viola frowned, whispering, “It’s been minutes. Shouldn’t it be over by now?”
Ludger’s eyes narrowed, gaze fixed down the twisting tunnel. “Yeah. Should’ve.”
The sound of combat rolled through the stone like a heartbeat, steady and unbroken, as if whatever was happening ahead wasn’t a fight at all, but sothing else entirely.
The echo of fighting still rolled up the tunnel, a steady rhythm of clashing and grinding. After another long minute of waiting, Ludger exhaled through his nose. “That’s enough. Any sane group would’ve broken off or finished by now.”
Viola’s hand tightened around her sword hilt. “So we’re moving?”
“Cautiously,” Ludger said. He glanced at Luna. “Keep your eyes everywhere. If it’s a trap, I want to see it before it sees us.”
Luna’s expression didn’t change, but she shifted her stance and drew one of her smaller knives, holding it low. “Understood.”
They moved as a unit down the twisting corridor. Ludger took point, his armguards raised slightly, each step deliberate and quiet. Viola followed a pace behind, her weapon angled but not raised, her excitent muted now into sharp focus. Luna brought up the rear, head turning just enough to watch both their flanks and the ceiling.
The sound of the fight grew louder as they approached—tallic crashes, a grinding roar, and sothing like a human voice raised in a muffled shout, though the words were lost in the echo. The torches thinned, their light flickering and throwing deeper shadows across the walls.
At the next bend, Ludger raised a hand again and they stopped. He peered around the corner just enough to see. “Stay tight,” he whispered.
Viola leaned forward, straining to hear, her pulse quickening. The noise ahead didn’t sound like an ordinary skirmish anymore; it was too rhythmic, too unbroken, like a machine working rather than a fight.
Luna’s knife hovered, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the dark ahead. “Whatever it is,” she murmured, “we’ll see it soon.”
Ludger’s jaw tightened. “Get ready. We’re not walking into this blind.”
Together, they inched closer to the source of the noise.
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