Chương 34: Chapter 33: Emissary of Silver

With the resources Nero had being drained dry, Nero left the sect after completing his daily duties. With his snowshoes on, he didn't have to worry about snow soaking his pants. He quickly traversed the rough terrain and reached the chicken dungeon again. And just as he'd suspected, it was still sealed shut.

"The dungeon cores are smart—they know I'd come again looking for those juicy mana-rich crystals." But unfortunately for it, the stone walls weren't nearly enough to stop him. He placed his palm over the cold wall that kept the entrance shut, and drew on his Pristine Aura, colored by the Aspect of Decay. The energy burst forth from deep within, seeping directly into the stone slab, coating the whole thing in Neonic glow.

He could, in real-time, feel the sizzling acid of the Decay eating its way through the tough structure. Even if bit by bit. After ten straight minutes of pouring all his Aura over it, he climbed a nearby tree to meditate and recover his energy. Sure, he could use the accumulated elemental energy that would let him power the talent for nearly three hours.

But it took much longer, and far more effort, to refine each droplet of elemental energy through the meditation technique, then to just recover the mental energy through normal mediation. He repeated the sequence—pouring the corrosive Aura directly onto the huge stone slab, meditating, then pouring it again—for nearly two hours before the thing began showing cracks, its outer bits crumbling away into sand. He then infused his fists with Pristine Aura and slammed his knuckles squarely against it.

The first hit shook the entire structure, sending loose sand and crumbling bits flying into his face; he covered his mouth and nose with his left hand while his right slammed into the structure again. This time his fist immediately dug into the stone slab. He wrenched it free and punched again as the slab splintered to pieces. He stepped through the entrance and into the dark space. Just to be safe, he extended the protection of Pristine Aura from his fists alone to his entire body.

Inside, the cave looked nearly the same, minus all the corpses of the large chickens he'd killed previously. With cautious steps, he first inspected the cave for any hidden threats before moving over to the same water elemental stone slab he'd destroyed before. Oddly enough, only a small fraction of the once-huge, splintered formation remained. Nero went on alert as he heard footsteps of something far up ahead. A lot of them. He quickly drew his short sword and took a battle stance.

The footsteps halted in their tracks. He slowly moved in to check what it was. And sure enough, it was an actual group of chickens, roughly the same size as the ones he'd killed before.

"So the dungeon is spawning more of these, and with so much more mana crystal around, it's throwing them out to make up for the lack of manpower. I wonder where the core is even pulling all this elemental energy from… industrial mana extraction?" He shook his head.

"That can't be it—only a dungeon spirit can do that, not a dungeon core." Still, having said that, the sheer volume of resources and mana this dungeon was generating felt distinctly odd. Usually, a dungeon grew by devouring the corpses of freshly dead adventurers or the bodies of villagers obtained by toppling a settlement. But this dungeon had remained perfectly peaceful, and hadn't attacked a thing, as far as he knew.

That left Nero with one conclusion: that this dungeon had perhaps found a third source of elemental energy.

"A leyline?" was his first guess. Leylines, sometimes called dragon veins, were one of the only sources from which one could obtain vast amounts of energy without working for it or devouring anything. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work! The creatures, just about to charge out, for whatever reason began backing away, retreating into the room hidden behind a large black stone from which they'd emerged. Nero stared at the display, bewildered.

"Did they just run from me?" Nero felt the thought was too arrogant to entertain, but thinking it over, it didn't seem so strange for the dungeon to order its creatures to retreat from the very guy, who'd previously wiped out its entire swarm of monsters in a single afternoon. Nero shook his head and moved toward another, larger slab of water elemental mana crystal formation. This one resembled the previous one, except it had slightly more mixed mana, which would in turn lower its price.

There were other elemental crystal formations scattered around too—formations of fire elemental, earth elemental, and even some pale green wind elemental crystal. Since water elemental crystals were more sought after and rarer, he cracked open only this one, bagging as much of the purer inner bits as he could fit. For now, Nero didn't bother with the chickens. But he was certainly curious about the core's mentality.

Usually, with this much energy at its disposal—hell, even far less—a dungeon would try spawning boatloads of monsters, killing and pillaging villages by the dozen, eventually attempting to evolve into a dungeon spirit.

"Then again, they say evolution into a spirit is more about mentality. Maybe this dungeon's core just isn't mature enough for it." With a shrug, he hauled the bag onto his back. It weighed nearly twenty-five pounds. Usually he wouldn't cram his bag so full, but since it held no monster parts at risk of damage, he filled it to the brim instead. After double-checking the door the chickens had retreated behind, Nero left the dungeon. The chickens remained inside.

After leaving, he made his way to the guild and handed Miya the bag full of materials.

"Doing well these days, huh, Mr. Solo Adventurer." She winked, calling over the appraiser. Around Nero, he could still make out especially grim faces among the adventurers.

"Has something happened? They look super bummed out—none of them are even drinking." He asked, leaning in. Miya leaned in too, practically whispering in his ear.

"Well, you see, the City of Silver recently sent an emissary. All adventurers with a minimum of a bronze core are to be sent to the recently ascended dungeon spirit and its ever-expanding layers."

"Oh, where's this dungeon again?" As Miya gave him the location, Nero's eyes widened in visible shock.

"That place?" Miya gave him a curious look.

"You're from there?" Nero shook his head and lied, "My distant relatives were," and before Miya could grow concerned for him, he added, "Though they moved into the city a while ago." She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good for them, then."

"Yeah, but not so much for these guys, huh." Nero eyed the quest board, now filled with quotas instead of quests. [Kill 10 Ogres of the Rising Fiend Dungeon.] [Kill 50 Ogres of the Rising Fiend Dungeon.] [Clear the first layer of the Rising Fiend Dungeon (within the week).] Most of these were mandatory, and the larger ones required parties of more than ten. Each quest bore the sigil of the seven silver stars, representing the Council of Seven that presided over the City of Silver.

The compensation for completing each was hefty, so the grim faces of these fellows didn't quite add up. Miya seemed to catch onto his thoughts from his expression alone.

"Ah, the issue isn't the danger level of the dungeon, or a lack of compensation, that's got these rowdy dogs all bummed out." She clarified.

"Then?" Nero tilted his head in confusion.

"It's the lack of choice, the restriction on their free spirit. Basically, they hate doing quests issued by the government." She said with an awkward smile, before adding, "Though the dungeon itself is another factor—it's growing at a rapid pace, and from the south, it's advancing toward the many villages and settlements to the west at speed." …. After exchanging the materials for two gold crowns, Nero returned to the sect.

He traded them for two more spirit stones and resumed his cultivation; he still had a few silver marks lying around from the earlier transaction, so his food costs were mostly covered.

"If only I were an official disciple," he murmured, stepping back into his house with the food and spirit stones. Official outer disciples usually got free meals and some actual lessons from martial masters. He had none of those privileges—he didn't even have the uniforms usually required by the sect. He was, in the sect's eyes, just a decent laborer. Though he wouldn't complain, because the housing and environment were still leagues better than back in the slums.

He no longer had to worry about a blizzard cracking his styrofoam house, or shoveling snow off its roof, or meditating in the biting cold. He could also access the sect's training facilities for free, though he hadn't done that yet, mainly because awakening his core took precedence over everything else. For now, he resumed his cultivation session as usual. But the next day, a senior disciple arrived from the grand hall, calling for everyone in their cottage urgently.