The bell continued to toll, filling Valera’s ears with its brassy tones.

Her legs pumped as she ran through the streets, leaving the Seeker Barracks behind. Soon enough, each step began to cause the ground below her to bounce slightly as she left one of the many islands of stone that served to anchor Orken, moving onto a giant stretch of darkwood planks that spanned the distance between it and the next. While some cities were forced to form themselves as floating cities entirely, Orken’s null-water lake possessed a number of small islands near its center, and its founders had built accordingly. The largest of the buildings scored their foundations into the more stable islands, while smaller housing and shops rested upon the large expanse of darkwood that made up most of Orken.

All in all, it had been lucky that the Webweaver colony had been far from the more flammable parts of the city, well towards the center of the same island of stone that the Seeker Barracks was built upon; if the links between the islands had been burned, she had no doubts that the punishment would have been far more severe. Though darkwood was fairly flame-resistant, that didn’t mean that it was immune entirely - and based on what she had seen, the little snake’s flames burned quite fiercely.

The bell tolled again.

Valera zipped across the distance, civilians moving out of her way; whether that was in deference or simply to hide from the dangers that the ringing bell might represent, it didn’t matter. They moved from her path, and she welcomed the speed that it allowed.

She could almost imagine that she heard the null-water slosh below her with the force of her steps, that she could hear the planks audibly flexing under her repeated footfalls. It was in moments like these that she appreciated what she had. The way that the excess mana that filled her body had tuned her muscles, pushing her beyond what was entirely natural. The way that it had changed her, gifting her with speed that had saved her life more than once. Saved her friends more than once, even. She wasn’t nearly as fast as some monsters could be - because wow, some were fast - but she was faster than she should have been.

All Seekers had done something similar. Valera was no exception. The outcome was varied; some became faster, like she did. Some become stronger. Some became hardier.

Some became Mana-Touched, their minds broken and destabilized by the excess mana that flooded their brains.

Most died.

It was a necessary risk, and it was a large reason for the low number of Seekers, even beyond the danger that they faced out in the World Dungeon. Not everyone was willing to risk their sanity. Not everyone was willing to risk their life. Not when there were others willing to do so in your place.

Perhaps to them, the very idea seemed insane.

It was their loss.

The bell tolled, covering the sound of stamping feet and slamming doors.

Valera’s steps led her back to Orken’s one and only nullsmith - a possessor of the opposite kind of insanity from her own, though a far more lucrative one, she had to admit. If Seekers that tried to fill their bodies with far more mana than was healthy were one side of a coin, nullsmiths would be found on its other face. Perhaps the only difference would be that becoming a nullsmith wasn’t a choice you could make. Instead, it was chosen for you.

Nullsmiths were something created, and they were chosen from the very moment they were born. Whereas most humans at least possessed some residual mana, mana that had been slowly absorbed over the years from their food and drink, nullsmiths were restricted in diet. Their entire life, everything they ate, along with everything they drank, was filtered first with null-water to drain any mana away.

They were pure, and that purity made them even more helpless than those who were too afraid to fight. Those, at least, might have some small boost that residual mana could provide. Their muscles might be a little bit thicker, a little bit quicker, a little bit stronger. Nothing special, but even a small boost could be the difference between life and death in an emergency.

However, a nullsmith’s purity was necessary. It all came down to the same substance that allowed them that purity, the same substance that surrounded Orken itself - along with almost every other long-surviving community.

Null-water.

It was the heartless, mindless savior of mankind - discovered by the remnants of humanity after the birth of the First Core shattered the surface and poisoned the skies. Like normal fluids, null-water passively absorbed mana that it came in contact with. Unlike normal fluids, it did so ravenously.

Whether it was something that existed before the birth of the First Core - and humanity had merely forgotten its original name - or it was something new, it hardly mattered. It was what humanity needed.

It gave mankind a fighting chance. Lakes of null-water were slowly discovered, and humanity built its cities upon their surfaces, slowly reclaiming the world. Or a small piece of it, anyway.

The null-water was both shield and sword, with its hunger for any mana that touched it - and against the monsters that had been created and empowered by mana itself, it was powerful. Deadly.

Though that wasn’t to say it was safe for humanity anymore, either. Some part of a living body seemed to resist the loss of mana that the null-water caused in a way that simple food and drink did not, holding onto it at the cost of savaging one’s insides. It wasn’t an immediate death, but it remained a fact that null-water could be dangerous for most to touch.

And the more mana that filled someone, the more dangerous null-water became. Valera suspected that, were someone to attempt to drown her in null-water, she might die before she ran out of breath. She wasn’t willing to test the theory.

Hence the need for a nullsmith’s purity. Unlike everyone else, they could closely handle null-water without endangering themselves - and that allowed them to create wonders. Of course, Seekers like Valera were required as well. Cores had to come from somewhere, and a nullsmith certainly couldn’t capture one.

Capturing Dungeon Cores served a dual purpose. It was the removal of a dangerous threat, but it was also the accumulation of power. Through some method that Valera had never bothered to learn, nullsmiths were able to extract the mana absorbed by null-water and infuse objects with it. Unaspected mana was weak and inefficient; hardly worth the effort, especially when it diffused across a large amount of null-water.

Leave a Dungeon Core inside a small container of null-water, however, and things changed. It could be used. And then, when the Core ran dry, it could be released from its prison. Allowed to grow in strength for a short time, to renew its store of mana - only to be dropped back into its cage before it could truly fight back.

The bell tolled, and Valera stepped into Kal’s workshop. It was filled with the man’s work; like many nullsmiths, he had chosen blacksmithing as the expression of his craft. There were more delicate professions available for some, but as Orken’s only nullsmith, they weren’t available to him.

Combat was always the first priority.

Credit to him, the man knew what she wanted and didn’t dally. Valera caught the pack that he threw her way, throwing a small pouch of coins back without bothering to count it.

“Put whatever’s left over towards my next bit of gear, Kal,” she said, rushing back out the door.

Soon afterwards, she found herself at the gathering point on the docks. Members of Orken’s Guard, though less brave - or maybe less foolhardy - than Seekers, were out in full force. A few were hauling out small platforms onto the null-water, stopping to drop anchors from each of their four corners when they drew a bit closer to the shoreline; close enough to shoot a bow more accurately, but far enough to be unreachable barring a giant leap or the ability to fly - something that Valera knew some monsters were bound to do. As much as she gave them grief, she had to respect the Guard’s willingness to stand on those damn platforms. Though there were railings on the things, she couldn’t help but imagine falling into the null-water, herself.

Their uniforms were specifically designed to keep much of the null-water from touching their skin, but clothing could rip and armor had gaps. Fortunately, they had far less mana in their bodies than Seekers, so a failure along those lines would merely be painful and not deadly.

Her vision flicked across the docks, and she quickly found where the others were waiting.

The bell tolled.