The Falna, the divine grace bestowed by the gods upon their children, was entirely composed of Sacred Glyphs.
This ant that Sacred Glyphs served as both the native language of the gods and the foundational code for reality-altering formulas. Comparatively, both Magic Script and Koine were derived directly from Sacred Glyphs, simplified because the original divine text was far too complex for mortals to comprehend.
More accurately, it was a degradation. Not only had the unified Sacred Glyphs been fractured into two separate systems—language and magical formulas—but their inherent power and efficacy had been severely diluted.
"I can teach you, but can you really handle all of that at once?" Hephaestus asked, clearly skeptical.
"That shouldn't be an issue. But we can't do it like we did today; the pacing was a bit too intense," Lucian admitted.
His psychological state was slightly unbalanced at the mont. The Phantom Butterfly's ti-reversal magic strictly affected his physical vessel, not his mind. The mind was Lucian's absolute bottom line, a territory he refused to tamper with lightly.
"I can't spend all day with you anyway. Starting tomorrow, lessons are strictly limited to the mornings," Hephaestus chuckled.
Lucian's terrifying diligence and insatiable hunger for knowledge had unconsciously drawn her into the zone. Not only had she pushed the pace too hard, but she had also completely emptied her vault of knowledge. Fortunately, she hadn't gone completely off the deep end and taught him forging techniques that didn't yet exist in the lower world—such as the thod to forge indestructible magic swords.
Indestructible magic swords weren't actually that difficult for Lucian to conceptualize. What he truly hungered for was the thodology behind forging divine armants. Once he grew stronger and t the necessary prerequisites, he would be capable of creating genuine 'Artifacts'.
Without direct instruction, the process of forging an Artifact was nearly impossible to figure out independently. The core secret lay entirely within the formulas constructed by Sacred Glyphs. However, that was a project for the distant future; it wasn't a realm he could touch anyti soon.
Half a month flew by. Even without setting foot in the Dungeon, Lucian's Magic stat had experienced an explosive surge.
[Na: Lucian]
[Level: 1]
[Strength: I21]
[Endurance: I25]
[Dexterity: I11]
[Agility: I8]
[Magic: H184]
His other stats had seen minimal growth, mostly accumulating naturally while he experinted with his spells, but his Magic had skyrocketed. Unfortunately, given his weak modern-day physique, his baseline physical potential was tragically low, bottlenecking his growth rate. While the anatomical structure of humans in this world was virtually identical to Earthlings, minor biological differences dictated a massive gap in innate 'talent.'
If it weren't for his absolutely broken magic, he truly would have been dead weight.
"I'm about ready," Lucian murmured to himself.
Over the past two weeks, he had finalized his preparations for delving into the Dungeon. Three combat skills, three survival trump cards, and three utility functions—nine custom-engineered skills perfectly designed to guarantee absolute safety.
Regarding his research funds, Lucian hadn't mass-produced standard weapons. Instead, he had utilized 'Projection Magic' to temporarily manifest a phantom Hephaestus, having her forge a handful of standard-quality magic swords.
A single magic sword could easily sell for millions of Valis. After liquidating them, he paid off his potion debt and secured a massive pool of operational capital. Following that, Lucian engineered a [Mana Battery Beast]. It spent its days buried underground, passively absorbing ambient magicules from the ley lines. Whenever he needed a refill, it would crawl out and inject him with a massive surge of pure mana, completely eliminating his dependency on expensive potions.
As for the Projection Magic, it was essentially a convenience tool heavily bound by restrictions. First, it required a tangible prototype. Second, he needed to have had close, personal contact with the individual he was projecting. The deeper his understanding of the target, the higher the projection's fidelity. Furthermore, it required the user—Lucian—to actually possess a foundational understanding of blacksmithing.
In short: he needed to understand the theory of forging before his projected phantom could physically forge the weapon. It was highly effective, but not inherently broken. Having limits was perfectly logical.
Lucian's primary objective was scaling his combat power, so he hadn't invested heavily in refining the projection system.
"Just how overly cautious are you?" Hephaestus couldn't help but sigh as she finished updating his Falna. She had witnessed the sheer scale of his preparations over the past two weeks. 'Psychotic' was the only word that ca to mind.
"Being cautious is never a bad thing," Lucian smiled as he pulled his shirt back on. "The foundational prerequisite for getting stronger is ensuring your own survival. Adventurers can't afford to take blind risks—that's the ultimate law of survival."
To beco a powerhouse, taking risks was unavoidable, but acting recklessly was a death sentence. Lucian had the luxury of ti and resources, so he ticulously orchestrated his pre-ga setup. Entering the Dungeon fully prepared would maximize both his safety and his total yield.
Ultimately, he wasn't a talentless grunt. He didn't need to throw his life away on suicide runs like the average adventurer. For him, the Dungeon wasn't a desperate struggle for survival; it was simply a highly efficient grinding zone.
The driving force behind his ticulous skill engineering and his desire to dive into the labyrinth was pure, unadulterated interest. He harbored a massive amount of curiosity and passion for the Dungeon. Hiding in a safe zone and grinding slis until he hit the level cap simply didn't appeal to his impatience.
"A solid summary. It's just a sha that not every child shares your level of caution," Hephaestus sighed softly. "The first ti they dive in, they're excited, thrilled, and incredibly careful. But over ti, they lose their patience and that vital sense of paranoia."
The overwhelming majority of adventurer casualties were caused by a fatal lack of caution.
Floors 1 through 12 were considered the beginner zone. Floors 13 through 24 were the Middle Floors. Once an adventurer crossed that threshold, the labyrinth's complexity, the lethality of its traps, the sheer volu of monsters, and their terrifying cunning all spiked dramatically.
Adventurers who had grown complacent with the rhythm of the Upper Floors were suddenly thrown into absolute chaos. A single misstep, a brief lapse in caution, and they would be slaughtered without a trace. The Middle Floors were notoriously labeled the 'Frontline of Death'—the zone with the highest mortality rate in Orario.
"Humans aren't flawless. We can't avoid making mistakes forever," Lucian replied, shaking his head. "Paranoia is essential for a standard adventurer, but for , having the necessary preparations to completely overwrite those mistakes is what truly matters."
"Fair point." Hephaestus let out a soft laugh.
People were built differently; they couldn't all be held to the sa standard. When a normal person was pushed to extre fury, they could only lash out in impotent rage. When Lucian was pushed to extre fury, he would break his limits and slaughter everything in sight.
In Hunter x Hunter, the Nen power system possessed a chanic known as [Post-mortem Nen]. Drawing inspiration from this concept, Lucian had engineered a sequence of skills designed exclusively around retaliating and reviving upon death. First, he would trigger an apocalyptic death counterattack. Then, he would instantly revive.
Knowing this, Hephaestus harbored absolutely zero anxiety regarding his safety. Furthermore, if he encountered an enemy he genuinely couldn't defeat, he could simply teleport away. There probably wasn't a human in this entire world harder to permanently kill than Lucian.
It was impossible to predict the heights he would reach. At the very least, the title of 'Hero'—the ultimate aspiration of both the mortal realm and the gods—was vastly insufficient to encapsulate his future.
Hephaestus held incredibly high expectations for him, which was another reason she granted him such an absurd level of leniency. The power of the gods was absolute and innate; it could not be cultivated or improved. Their ceiling and floor were locked from the mont of their birth.
The gods had descended to the lower world precisely to witness the infinite, unbridled potential of mortals. And Lucian? He was an anomaly from another dinsion, a Child of Miracles forged from the combined essence of two entirely different worlds.
. . .
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