The question lingered like a persistent itch in both their minds, refusing to be ignored despite their successful escape.
Who threw the orb back inside?
Leon expanded his spatial awareness to its maximum range, the invisible sense spreading outward like ripples in a pond. He swept the area thodically, searching for any trace of whoever had interfered with their navigation marker. A footprint in the dirt, a lingering scent, a disturbed branch – anything that might provide a clue.
The forest around the mist’s edge was pristine. No broken twigs, no compressed grass, no sign that anyone had stood here recently except for themselves. The afternoon sun filtered through normal, non-twisted trees, casting dappled shadows that danced with the breeze. Birds chirped in the distance, their songs almost startlingly normal after the oppressive silence of the mist.
Nothing, Leon thought with frustration. Whoever did this left no trace at all.
"Anything?" Seraphine asked, watching him concentrate.
Leon shook his head slowly. "Nothing. It’s as if no one was ever here." He paused, considering the implications. "Either they’re skilled enough to leave no trace, or..."
"Or?"
"Or they never physically stood here to throw it." The thought was unsettling. So telekinesis? Spatial manipulation? Or sothing else entirely?
The possibility that the mist itself had sohow moved and swallowed the orb was definitively ruled out – they had erged exactly where they’d entered, proving the boundary hadn’t shifted. Soone or sothing had deliberately, intelligently, moved that orb.
After several more minutes of fruitless searching, Leon made a decision. "We’re not going to find answers standing here. Let’s head back to the last dungeon site. We have other matters to attend to."
Besides, he thought, we never did get a chance to properly examine those skill stones and technique scrolls from the royal palace garden. The situation with that woman made us leave too quickly.
"The third dungeon?" Seraphine asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes. We can set up there and go through our collected items properly." Without warning, he swept her up into the now-familiar princess carry. "This is faster."
Seraphine settled against his chest with practiced ease, her arms finding their position around his neck. The scent of her hair – lavender mixed with the tallic tang of lightning from her aura – filled his nostrils as he prepared to move.
The world blurred into streams of color as Leon launched himself forward, the ground exploding beneath his feet with each superhuman stride.
***
The journey that would have taken hours on foot passed in minutes. The third dungeon site appeared before them, its massive blue portal still humming with stable energy. The scattered equipnt from the beaten guards had been cleared away – likely by scavengers or perhaps the guards themselves returning after Leon and Seraphine had departed.
The late-afternoon sun cast long shadows across the clearing, painting everything in warm, golden hues. The air was cooler here, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. It was peaceful, almost serene, a stark contrast to the otherworldly horror of the mist.
Leon set Seraphine down gently, then imdiately began channeling earth elent mana. The ground responded to his will, rising and shaping itself with exceptional precision. This wasn’t the rough, functional furniture he’d created in the mist – this was art.
The table that erged was smooth as polished marble, with delicate patterns etched into its surface that resembled flowing water. The chairs were equally impressive, with high backs that curved ergonomically and armrests that flowed organically from the main structure. Every edge was perfectly smooth, every proportion exactly right.
His control has improved even more, Seraphine thought, running her hand along the table’s surface. This is restaurant-quality, maybe even better.
"Now," Leon said with satisfaction, "let’s see what we’ve collected."
He began withdrawing items from his spatial storage, laying them out on the earthen table with careful organization. First ca the skill stones – hundreds of them, each one a different color, each inscribed with runic symbols that seed to pulse with inner light.
There were crimson stones that radiated heat, their runes flickering like flas. Azure stones that felt cool to the touch, condensation forming on their surfaces despite the warm air. Erald stones that slled faintly of spring growth. Violet stones that made the air around them feel charged with potential.
Next ca the technique scrolls – ancient parchnts covered in intricate lettering that was difficult to look at directly. So were written in languages Leon recognized but couldn’t read. Others seed to be in scripts that predated human civilization. A few appeared to shift and change when viewed peripherally, as if the words themselves were alive.
The afternoon light caught the skill stones, making them gleam like a dragon’s hoard. They covered the entire table surface, organized by color and intensity, creating a rainbow of magical potential.
Seraphine’s eyes were shining with pure wonder, her purple irises reflecting the kaleidoscope of colors before her. She reached out tentatively, her fingers hovering over a particularly beautiful golden stone that seed to contain swirling galaxies within its depths.
"This is... it," she breathed, unable to finish the sentence. It feels like a dream. More skill stones and techniques than most warriors see in a lifeti, all laid out before like a feast.
"Go ahead," Leon said, enjoying the expression of childlike wonder on her face. "Touch them. They’re not going to bite."
She picked up the golden stone, gasping softly as she felt the power within it. It was warm in her hand, pulsing with a rhythm that matched her heartbeat. The runes on its surface seed to tell a story, though she couldn’t quite decipher their aning.
"How many are there?" she asked, her voice hushed with awe.
"Two hundred and seventeen skill stones," Leon replied, having already counted them ntally as he laid them out. "Forty-three technique scrolls."
He thought, considering the white weapons and blurry mana cores stored elsewhere in his spatial inventory. I will look into them after these...
Seraphine set down the golden stone and picked up a silver one that seed to contain frozen lightning. "Any idea what they do?"
"So of them." Leon picked up a dark purple stone that seed to absorb light around it. "This one is definitely related to shadow manipulation. You can feel the dark elent radiating from it." He set it down and selected a bright orange stone. "This one is probably fire-based, but more specifically related to explosions rather than simple burning."
I wonder how strong I will beco once I have an arsenal of skills under my command, he mused.
The technique scrolls were even more mysterious. Leon unrolled one carefully, revealing dense text that seed to describe a movent technique. The illustrations showed a figure splitting into multiple copies, though whether these were illusions or sothing more substantial was unclear.
"This is incredible," Seraphine said, her excitent bubbling over. She was examining a pale blue stone that left frost patterns on her palm.
The sun continued its descent, painting the skill stones in even richer colors. The clearing had transford into sothing almost magical – an outdoor museum of arcane treasures, witnessed only by two warriors and the silent portal to the dungeon.
We’re going to need a reasonable amount of ti to look through these, Leon thought, already formulating plans. So might be imdiately useful, others might not even be suited for us.
Eying a few specific ones, he already had the reward prepared for those who got a good class from the dungeon.
But for now, he was content to watch Seraphine’s joy as she explored the collection, her eyes bright with possibilities, her smile genuine and unguarded in a way he rarely saw from her when she was with sothing other than him.
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