I trailed behind Kiria, staying within range of her [Wind Veil] as we navigated the jungle. In the end, we’d deemed it too risky to stay in the burnt clearing. Kiria confirmed that the dinosaur — or what she called a saurian — was a monster that occupied the far side of the island, where the overgrown brush gave way to jagged rocks and infertile soil.

Kiria had apologized profusely that her protective barrier failed. Apparently, some monsters could sniff out the unique mana flow of field skills. At level four, [Wind Veil] could mask their presence from most animals and monsters in the area, but a similarly leveled detection skill would have an equal chance of seeing through it as not.

And so, after a quick meal that was about as good as you would expect for large jungle rats (that is to say, not very), we departed for the outpost used by the beastkin scouts. I was surprised and a bit embarrassed to learn that my original estimates on how long it would take to get there were so far off. I’d never left the city and assumed it would take a week or more to reach the mountain, when really it was just the work of a day or three, depending on how many animals and monsters you ran into.

Fortunately, it seemed like there was nothing around that could detect [Wind Veil], and even if there were, we were moving quickly enough to outpace them before they saw through it. Kiria had also deployed a lower level of [Tailwind] that made my body feel lighter; the air gently pushing my back and legs forward as we walked. It wasn’t as strong as the one she’d used to propel the boat, but it was more subtle while still managing a noticeable increase to our speed.

Unfortunately, it was still a slog traversing the dense plant life along the jungle floor. Large tree roots created solid obstacles we had to circumvent or climb over. Tangled bushes and shrubs populated every patch of dirt, leaving only faint animal trails through the overgrown thicket. Wild vines stretched between trees and coiled around trunks and branches, further impeding our progress.

Worst of all were the bugs that frequently ended up within the narrow perimeter of the veil, crawling up my arms and legs and biting my skin where they found purchase. I hated insects and made liberal use of one of the iron claws to exterminate any that got too close. It was a shame that I couldn’t burn them with [Heat Transfer], but the mana expenditure would risk detection through the veil, limiting most of my skills.

On the bright side, I found that [Throw] didn’t use mana unless I specifically boosted it with [Mana Overcharge]. Maybe this was a characteristic of General Skills, as I didn’t need to spend mana to practice with [Mana Sense] or [Mana Manipulation] either. Interestingly, I also found that [Throw] could be triggered with the flick of my finger. Many bugs died to bring me this information.

Kiria came to a stop and held up her fist. I paused a couple steps behind her and waited, not wanting to break the silence despite the veil. In an almost-whisper, she said, “There’s a weird mana signature just ahead. Feels a bit like fire. About twenty selkes out, just past those trees.”

“Can we go around it?” I asked, matching her low volume.

“We could,” Kiria said. “But if it’s the monster you fought earlier, it may spot and ambush us, which I’d like to avoid.”

“Agreed,” I nodded, moving a hand to my rope dart, which I’d fitted with a new iron dart after the previous one shattered. That it had been unexpectedly brittle proved I knew little about forging. I’d let this new one cool naturally, but I wished I knew for sure how to strengthen it. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Follow me.” Kiria grabbed her chakrams and stalked forward. Trusting in her combat skills, I stuck close and readied my rope dart, taking care to step softly and avoid rustling any leaves or branches. The [Wind Veil] would divert the eyes and muffle sound, but it was not a true cloak.

As we approached, I extended my [Mana Sense] in search of the mana signature Kiria had mentioned. It was not immediately apparent, but soon a faint sensation of heat brushed against my mind, reminiscent of asphalt in the summer sun. It was subtler than the dinosaur’s mana, yet more potent. More solid.

Kiria suddenly leaped forward, chakrams sent flying ahead. I hurried after her, ready to [Throw] the dart the moment I spotted the target.

A pair of thuds preceded the creaking collapse of twin trees felled by the circular weapons. My eyes darted back and forth, scanning for the monster that had evaded Kiria’s strike.

The chakrams returned to Kiria’s hands as she jumped back to me, her ears upright and tail swinging back and forth. I turned my back to hers and swiveled my head in search of the target. It was hard to see anything through the dense foliage, but nothing seemed amiss.

Realizing the futility of my visual senses, I refocused on my burgeoning magical ones, hoping that [Mana Sense] could detect the monster within the trees. However, I couldn’t find anything. There was only the fresh, ever-present mana within the soil; a faint current of life flowing from the roots to the trees. The scent of a burnt candle tickled my nose before wafting away into the calm breeze. If anything had been here, it was gone now.

I heard Kiria shuffle behind me, lowering her weapons as she came to the same conclusion I had. “That was so weird. It was like it just disappeared.”

“You didn’t see it either?” I asked, coiling the rope back over my shoulder.

Kiria shook her head. “No. I didn’t sense anything move; animal or monster. I could’ve sworn my chakrams intercepted the mana source, but it just faded.”

That was concerning. “Could it have been a natural occurrence?” And hopefully not some fire-ghost monster or something?

“I doubt it,” Kiria said. “Plant and fire mana don’t coexist, and there shouldn’t be any of the latter in a jungle. Earth mana I could understand if there were some mana crystals buried nearby, but we should still be able to feel that.”

I nodded, my mind forming new questions, but understanding enough for the moment. “At some point I’ll need to ask you what types of mana there are. In the meantime, how far are we from the outpost?”

“Not too far,” Kiria answered, looking up at the sky. There wasn’t that much to see with the canopy blanking out most of it, but it was obviously getting darker. It looked to be late afternoon, and I was feeling pretty tired. My body’s internal clock told me it was around twenty- or twenty-one hundred hours. “We’re still a few selles out, but we should make it before sunset so long as I keep [Tailwind] up.”

Kiria reached into her bag and pulled out a purple fruit with interesting lumps that broke its spherical symmetry. “Want one?” I said yes, and she tossed it to me, retrieving another that she bit into with her fangs. I followed suit, enjoying the refreshing tang of the fruit as I drank its juice. Like most of the fruits on Luna island, it was packed full of mana and would help Kiria sustain her skills for as long as we needed.

After our quick break, we resumed our trek through the jungle depths. It constantly impressed me how Kiria knew which direction we were heading, even with the help of her [Navigation] skill, as there were no visible landmarks amidst the trees. Not even the mountain could be seen from where we were, highlighting my hubris for thinking I could make it all the way to the summit on my own.

There were several instances when I wondered if I should have stayed behind. Living in one of those surprisingly comfortable yurts, even under supervision, may not have been as horrible as I initially feared. But then, I wouldn’t have advanced my skills or learned anything new. If there was one thing I understood intrinsically about whatever system governed the magic of this world, it was that it rewarded struggle. The first two levels of my skills had been fairly easy to come by, but the third and fourth had only come during a fight, so far as I could tell. My overall level had also risen after winning (or surviving) some attack or other. Did it mean something for the system to reward violence? Was that the only way to advance, or just the only way I’d encountered so far?

Such musings occupied my mind during the journey forward, long minutes stretching into hours. I stifled the yawns that threatened to slow me down, willing mana through my body to stand in for the chemical energy it was running concernedly low on. Over time, my mind quieted, and my awareness narrowed to the movement of my legs as I stayed close behind my feline companion. Step after step, stride after stride. Past the towering trees, encompassing vines, and overgrown brush.

I didn’t notice when the density of plants thinned. It was only when Kiria finally stopped that I saw we were on dirt unsheltered by vast arrays of leaves. There was still plenty of plant life around, but it was much shorter and more spaced apart. Past the jungle was an incline that stretched to the base of a brown, rocky mountain with dark lines running down through the rock.

“This is it,” Kiria announced. She led us over to a sheer slope of the mountain along the base, seemingly no different from any other spot nearby. Guided either by memory or by some sense invisible to me, Kiria pressed her hand to the rock face and sent her mana through.

Glowing white lines raced out in four diagonal directions from where her palm had touched the rock, the bottom lights pivoting at forty-five degree angles towards each other upon reaching the ground while the top lights traveled the same distance before arcing toward each other. When complete, the lights converged, forming the close outline of a door that glowed with unique yet familiar interconnected markings.

I didn’t have time to study the patterns before the four sections of the door slid into the surrounding rock, revealing what was much more than a simple cave. The floor was smooth, polished stone, and the walls were similarly clean, inlaid with cubes to create storage shelves and embedded sleeping spaces furnished with hammocks.

Some shelves held the same clay pots I’d seen in the chief’s yurt for food. Others held a variety of cookware, all ceramic, and set against one wall of the cave was a rectangular solid stone construct with a space in the center. Inside the gap were pieces of coal, and the opening was connected to a trio of circular indentations on the surface.

The ceiling was shaped in a dome, featuring panels of light that illuminated the cave. Each panel was connected by the same thin, white lines that had traced the door, which had since reformed to seal the cave off from the outside. To one side was a vent of sorts, likely connected to the outside to bring in a fresh supply of air.

“This is extraordinary,” I said, gaping at how comfortable this place was. Given the cave, I’d been expecting something spartan or military. This felt more like a home. “Was this all carved in?”

“Yup!” Kiria strolled through and plopped her bag down near one hammock. “One of our [Explorers] is an [Earth Mage], so he creates living spaces like these when camping out. I think Lysh did the runes on the door and ceiling, though. She’s a lot better at spellwork.”

I could feel the mana in the rock, fairly certain that it was powering the lights, but I couldn’t trace the connection at all. The door, whose outline still glowed from the inside, was likewise invisible to my [Mana Sense].

“I can’t sense it either,” Kiria said, having deduced what I was looking for. “You need the fifth level of [Mana Sense] to see the mana in runes. It’s a lot subtler than natural mana sources, and there’s no intent like with magic skills either.”

“How does it work?” I asked.

Kiria shrugged. “Not sure. Rune scripting requires a lot of patience and math, and I’ve never been good at either. I know you need a mana source to power it, though. It’s probably buried underground or hidden in the wall somewhere.”

Wow, runes sure were useful, and the mana crystal sounded like a battery or maybe a generator depending on if it could run out and need to be replaced. I was surprised at the mathematics requirement too. I thought about asking what level of math rune scripting used, but Kiria had already admitted she didn’t understand it well. The terms “algebra” and “calculus” may not even translate either, though so far my [Omnilingual] skill hadn’t run into any issues, for which I was extremely grateful.

Regardless, these runes gave the cave practically modern amenities close to what I could expect in a studio apartment. I stepped away from the wall I’d been inspecting and approached one of the open hammocks to place my belongings down. “Are rune lights like these commonplace?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Kiria said, now swaying back and forth in the hammock she’d claimed. “Most villages like the one we came from will have lights like these in every house. Cities will have similar ones outdoors too so you can see clearly at night, even when the moons are dark. They’ll also have warding runes to repel monsters, since they’re attracted to all the people and their mana. Those are a lot more complex and expensive though, so villages won’t have those. That’s why they rely on adventurers like I was telling you earlier.”

It would seem I had to reevaluate my preconceptions about this world once again. These runes seemed extremely versatile, not to mention useful. “Are there any runes set up in the camp?”

“Just light runes like these carved into the wood frames of the yurts,” Kiria said. “We don’t have enough mana crystals to support anything more than that.”

“Where can you find mana crystals?” I asked. They seemed pretty interesting. It could be fun to experiment with one and see if my skills could interact with it somehow. “Can you sense them underground with [Mana Sense] or something?”

Kiria giggled. “You’ve already sensed at least one mana crystal.”

“I have?” My eyebrows furrowed. I don’t remember sensing any crystals. Or seeing any, for that matter.

“The saurian you fought,” Kiria explained. “You sensed its fire mana, right? That was from the mana crystal inside it.”

“Wait, saurians have mana crystals inside them?” My eyes widened at the revelation.

“Yeah, all monsters do,” Kiria said. “Didn’t I tell you that earlier?”

“Not that I recall,” I replied. “I think I would’ve remembered something like that.”

“Oh.” Kiria stopped swaying. “Whoops! Sorry.”

My lips curled into a wry smile. I would probably need a formal teacher if I wanted to learn about this world properly. That would be for later, though. Now that the excitement of seeing this new form of magic had worn off, my fatigue returned in full force, manifesting itself as a massive yawn. “I think I’m going to get some sleep now. I assume it’s safe here, or do we need to set up a watch or something?”

“We’re good here,” Kiria affirmed. “Even if a monster showed up with a high enough [Mana Sense] to find the door, they’d still have to break through it, which would definitely wake us up. The runes will also only work for people with high enough Wisdom, and even level one beastkin and humans have more Wisdom than monsters can ever get.”

Huh. So the runes could check for certain stat thresholds too. “Good to know. Thank you.” I sat in the hammock, testing the strength of its supports. Satisfied that it wouldn’t collapse, I climbed the rest of the way into the soft, encompassing fabric and swiftly fell asleep.

When I awoke some time later, the cave’s lights had dimmed, casting the room in a gentle glow. I couldn’t tell what time it was — there was no way to see outside the cave, nor was there any sort of clock nearby. Kiria lay sprawled out sideways on her hammock, her head and legs left dangling on either end. That didn’t seem comfortable to me, but she seemed fine, a smile set upon her sleeping face.

Careful not to make too much noise, I got up, surprised at the warmth I felt on my feet through the stone floor. For a moment, I wondered if it was from the heat outside, but the air within the cave felt refreshingly cool. Was the ground heated, then? That seemed like a lot of effort for an outpost rarely in use, but maybe it was some incidental effect of the lighting, or just another easy series of runes to make.

In any case, there was something I needed to take care of. Namely, my rope dart. Specifically, the dart portion. Thanks to Kiria’s help with training me, I had learned some useful moves to use the rope dart in close and long range. However, it had shattered in its first proper test.

Granted, perhaps a dinosaur — or saurian, I should say — was not the best test case. But it had been a small one, and its skin possessed no extra protection like scales or something. I assumed that by quenching the iron, I had inadvertently weakened instead of strengthening it. But even if I hadn’t messed it up, iron was not an ideal material for weapons. While not as soft as the bronze weapons that preceded them in Earth’s history, iron had likewise been universally replaced by steel as soon as it could be mass-produced. Steel was stronger, tougher, and more flexible than iron, and there were countless ways to treat it to modify its physical properties for certain applications, including immunity to rust.

I, of course, as a first-year Materials Science major — or Materials Science dropout, considering the whole being transported to another world thing — knew almost nothing about any of these processes. But what I did know was that iron could transform into steel by adding a small amount of carbon.

After fetching a handful of iron claws from my bag, I walked over to the stone stove. I didn’t need to use the stove to supply any heat, seeing as how I could do that myself, but it provided a convenient platform upon which to work. I placed the first claw in one of the circular indentations and sent heat through to it. Then I paused, realizing that I should probably use one of the ceramic cooking pans. If something went wrong, better to damage a cooking instrument I know I can replace (eventually) than the stove itself.

That done, I invoked [Heat Transfer] to rapidly increase the metal’s internal energy. I could picture the molecules vibrating faster and faster, threatening to slide out of their positions while the molecular bonds struggled to hold them in place. Several minutes later, as before, the iron glowed a bright orange and lost its shape.

This time, however, I took a tiny piece of coal and dropped it onto the iron. Coal was made of carbon, and even a percent or two mixed into iron would be enough to turn it into steel, assuming it distributed properly. I had no idea how a real blacksmith would do it, but intended to cheat.

I focused all my attention on the coal now melting into the iron, trying to send mana to it with [Mana Manipulation] in the hopes of somehow spreading the carbon atoms out over the iron atoms. Nothing in particular happened, aside from now having a small pool of iron at the base of an extremely hot clay pan. But I was undeterred. This was a process that wanted to work naturally and was probably already occurring. All I wanted was to help it along and make it better.

In my mind, I imagined zooming in on the iron molecules to view the individual atoms. They would be arranged in cubes, and at this temperature, the iron atoms would occupy the eight corners and the six face-centers. The carbon atoms, atomic number 6, would be much smaller than the iron’s atomic number 26. They wouldn’t knock any iron atoms out of place. They wouldn’t need to. Instead, they could squeeze in between them, stitching themselves to the edges of the cube, flanked by the corner and face atoms. All I’d need to do is supply just enough energy to transport the carbon atoms into place as they diffused through the iron crystal structure.

Skill Acquired: Diffusion

Diffusion Lv. 1 — Diffuse one monatomic element through another in close proximity.

Aha! And now I had my third class skill! The single element limit was unfortunate, but that would surely be improved with future advancements of the skill. For the moment, it was perfect for what I needed it to do. Namely, diffuse carbon through the iron. Considering that the skill was acquired even within this limitation, I assumed that any oxygen impurities within the iron had been burned away beforehand during the temperature increase.

Wait, now that I thought about it, could [Diffusion] work even at room temperature? The thought made me grin in anticipation. I picked up a second claw, letting the steel disc cool in the pan, and pressed a small bit of coal against it. Then I sent my mana through it, invoking [Diffusion]. My mana encountered immediate resistance, like trying to force magnets of the same charge to touch. It was possible, but most of my mana was dispersed into the air, lost to me. It seemed there were too many oxygen impurities in the iron claw for it to count as pure monatomic iron, Fe. Perhaps it was actually closer to an iron oxide? Except no, that wouldn’t make any sense, since I was pretty sure that would just be rust.

Maybe it had something to do with the quantity of oxygen impurities in the iron. With my [Mana Manipulation] now able to modify my skills, the resistance could have been from it forcing the [Diffusion] to occur. In which case, the solution was potentially simple. Remove the oxygen atoms first. So long as they were defects and not rigidly bound necessary elements, I should be able to take care of it.

Once again, I cast [Diffusion] on the claw, focusing this time on removing any oxygen impurities prohibiting the smooth transport of the carbon atoms I wanted instead. When I felt the pressure in my mind release, I assumed the process had completed. There was no visual indication that it was done, or any sort of confirmation at all aside from my instincts. I’d have to find some way to remedy that in the future.

With the oxygen most likely removed, I diffused the coal into the claw; the process much smoother this time. The claw’s silver color remained unchanged, yet it seemed stronger somehow to my senses. Perhaps a bit heavier as well.

I didn’t have any proper way to confirm I’d made steel, aside from waking up Kiria and asking what she thought, but there was one thing I could try. I retrieved another iron claw and set it on the stovetop. Holding it down, I pressed the tip of the supposedly-steel claw over the iron, creating a small scratch. Next, I swapped their positions and tried to scratch the steel claw with the iron one, to no avail. If I did this properly, that meant the steel claw was harder than the iron claw, able to scratch it but unable to be scratched in turn. That was as good a confirmation as I was likely to get on my own. Regardless, I was satisfied.

Now to do the same to my dart and convert that to steel. I would leave the rest of the iron claws alone for the moment, though. This was taking a fair bit of mana, and I could only eat so much food. Both in terms of availability and physical capacity.

I was beyond fortunate that my mana capacity was so abnormally high, at least from what Kiria told me. I couldn’t know if that was a universal average or one normalized for beastkin, yet I had five times the mana after just a couple of days here.

It wasn’t like I had no idea why that was. My status showed a pair of blessings, presumably from two different gods of this world, and one of them had resulted in the Divine Skill [Bounty of Mana]. That I owed my mana capacity to this skill was obvious. The question was why I’d received it. Was it a gift by the gods for coming to this world, or a consolation prize for dying? Or was I just attributing unintended meaning to what was ultimately random chance or sheer dumb luck?

There was no way to know, really. At least, that was what I’d normally think. But in a world with magic, and with the existence of an [Oracle], maybe I could get the answers I was looking for.