Silas expanded his territory, then snapped it into a one meter bubble around himself. Out again he pushed, trying to reach beyond the dregs and into fresh, unclaimed territory.

Again and again, he pushed.

He was no stranger to boring, repetitive work. Just look at all those fishing trophies he earned trying to 'save' an elusive firefly pet from the belly of a certain rare species of fish within World of Fantasy. An item found 0.1% of the time within a fish caught on 0.1% of casts within randomly spawning fishing holes across a zone of swampland.

His friends and guildmates told him he was crazy, but he never felt like he wasted that summer, even if he never did manage to save the firefly from its gastric fate.

Eve kept bothering him, telling him when to eat and take a nap, but aside from those breaks he was a machine. Out. In. Out. In.

He could no longer extend his reach further, and it showed in the lab's ambient mana density. Where once a dense fog swirled, now only the faintest of mists lingered.

Somehow old Ainsley, who had only once paused his work long enough to consider and eat four slices of meat lover's pizza, was even more of a machine. Silas knew Eve prevented himself from needing a bathroom break, but shouldn't the old man express his need to go see a man about a horse sooner or later? Silas hoped the guy wasn't trying to make a competition out of who would break first. In that game there would be no winners, only losers.

He checked his Status and saw why he had hit a wall. Three days of pushing had capped out all the tier two Skills and Attributes he exercised. On the one hand that seemed fast, but on the other he'd been pushing himself for almost eighty hours through a combination of short naps, caffeine, pizza, and pure terror. During his food breaks he'd improved his Interface a bit, linking info from Help so he didn't need to look up each Skill's governing attribute separately, plus a tracker for how many SP he actually needed to buy his next Skill.

Eve had been busy too, going by his physical +20 bonuses. Sleep Resistance increasing didn't surprise him, but how had she increased his Poison Resistance? His Endurance and Vitality were at the cap now, too.

"You've been busy," he told her.

"Took you long enough to notice. Judging by your Status, it's time for us to get back to basics and get your skills recognized as Skills. Not to be selfish, but if you can get your Vitality to tier three I can tier up as well and turn those plus twenties to plus thirties in another day, if I'm not mistaken. Hitting tier two let me find connections like never before, and I was able to find small ways to significantly improve on my previous designs."

Silas had been thinking about improving his Will next. At that tier he might just be able to actually rip away an opponent's mana.

He flexed, feeling his new physical strength. He felt strong, but not 'let's charge into a horde of monsters' strong. Would he ever, though? That wasn't really his thing. And Eve had already shown she could push up his Vitality on his own.

"Can't you raise it?"

"At the current rate, maybe. In time. Probably would take as long as it would for you to continue those exercises until your Will broke through to thirty."

He sighed. "I don't even have the points yet. Let's get testing."

"For the first test, I want to see if this works."

"See if what—"

Silas sat at a desk in some small classroom with white tiled floors, fluorescent lighting, a white paneled ceiling, and assorted cat-themed motivational posters plastered on the walls. Eve stood at the front looking like a teacher, in a black pencil skirt and yellow cardigan over a white collared shirt covered in multicolored paint splotches.

She approached, a smirk on her face, and slammed a heavy booklet down on his desk, along with a number two pencil. The booklet just read 'Math Test.'

With a groan he opened to the first page of the test. "Two plus two, really?"

"Wanted to cover the basics. Be sure to show your work, so I can help you learn why you got a wrong answer."

He answered the first question, fighting his instinct to write down 'five' just to be snarky, muttering about how he'd show her his work.

Ainsley hurried over to a curtained corner of his lab as the boy took another nap. About time, too. His bladder couldn't hold out much longer. While he held a great amount of interest in the boy's various secrets, his method to avoid visiting the flush might be one of the more intriguing, though perhaps not the most pressing.

The gathered water in the tank above might not refill until the manasphere recovered, but the reservoir should hold more than enough for his needs. Before it emptied he'd either be the city's savior, else bound for the Empire. Truly, if the mislabeled Hero summoning instructional booklets Ainsley had collected from around the city were spread by the Empire, he could only acknowledge their masterful strike, to bring The Gray Depths so low without firing a single shot. Someone, certainly, had been looking to bring Trouble to his doorstep.

Somewhere in his office he had an invitation from the Emperor, claiming the man would grant him a barony if only Ainsley would build an Academy in Artea itself. A barony seemed like an opening offer. Ainsley doubted he could argue for a dukedom, but a march or county didn't seem unreasonable, given what he could offer. As long as he brought the Academy's seed core with him, he could grow a new knowledge repository wherever he chose. Such was within his rights as headmaster, as long as he wore the amulet of his office. Supposedly the ruins of the original Academy campus could still be found somewhere in Cairon.

Just to be safe, before testing his creation he would make sure to collect the letter inviting him to visit.

With the mana dry, however, it was time to visit the dungeon.

When he shook the boy he opened a single eye. "What?" he enunciated, dragging out the word as if in a daze.

Ainsly didn't have time to coddle the boy. "We're going to the dungeon. Fifth floor should suffice. I've done as much as I can here."

Not moving a single muscle, or bothering to open his other eye, the boy spoke again in his odd sleep-addled tone, "Then go."

"Everyone else is busy. If we're fated to die in two days, I best finish my work in one. You can at least keep some weak monsters away while I work, or one of your conjured creations can, I'm sure. Keep practicing your aura work and mana manipulation. Both skills will serve you well in your time here."

After half a second of thought the boy spoke. "Need a shield and sword or spear. A sturdy halberd or similar. Bow, atlatl, or even a sling. Close, medium, and ranged weapons. A good helmet and chest protection at minimum." Still he didn't move aside from his mouth. The boy's efforts must have really exhausted him, the way he acted.

"Do I look like an armory?"

"Do I look like a warrior?"

Ainsley sighed. He did actually carry a veritable armory around in his amulet, he just didn't like advertising the fact. "Do what you must, we leave in one minute." Unable to help himself, he pointed to the curtained corner of the lab. "Flush is over there, if you need to relieve yourself. In the dungeon you'll just have to go on the ground."

The boy continued to give him his new one-eyed stare, neither blinking nor moving aside from his ever steady breathing.

Well then. Ainsley popped over to his office to collect the Empire's invitation and a few other useful items he'd rather hold onto until this business was settled.

He returned to find the boy standing and doing an odd series of convulsive stretches, rapidly twitching various sets of muscles in succession. At least he had both eyes open.

As he laid out his second best set of armor, enchanted wyvern hide, and a selection of weapons for the boy to choose from, the boy's motions flowed into what seemed an extreme test of his flexibility, making Ainsley wince even as he watched. Backs were not meant to bend that direction outside of very specific Bond manifestations. Were the boy's bones even solid?

The boy stripped down to his underdrawers and put the armor on without a word or hint of embarrassment shown, then again tested his motion. The armor was enchanted to not bind and repair itself, so it could handle the motions of an unusually flexible child.

The boy, Silas, seemed as if he was in some warrior's trance. Ainsly had read of such things, but had not expected the boy to display such prowess. Perhaps he wasn't such a talentless child after all, and only needed the right motivation to apply himself, like so many students at the Academy.

He picked up the sword and shield, tested a few strokes then slung the shield on his back and sheathed the blade at his hip. The recurve bow received a single test pull before he wore it across his chest and hung the quiver from his right hip.

Rather than a halberd, he chose a glaive topped with a weighted, falchion-like blade on the end, the entire piece made of the same heavy blue-tinged metal. Ainsley had won the thing at an auction because he had wanted to study the item's enchantment, but had never been able to discern anything of value. Dungeon items were like that, sometimes. Supposedly this one had been wielded by a boss, but people always claimed their ancestral items came from dungeon bosses. This one did remain sturdy and sharp no matter the punishment it took, so perhaps it was a boss item.

The boy had a good eye, Ainsley would give him that.

"This is all just a loan. I expect it back, after."

The boy completely ignored him as he began swinging the glaive around like a master after a few test swings, somehow not impeded by the bow and shield on his back. Suddenly he stopped and stood before Ainsley. "It's been three minutes. Are we leaving or not."

Ainsley couldn't teleport straight into the dungeon, but he had a beacon stone just beside the entrance, past any checkpoints, though he doubted guarding the dungeon entrance was much of a priority right now.

With a glance for Ainsley, the boy strode into the shimmering blue portal without sparing a glance for the clearing they arrived in, as if nothing could phase the boy now he'd entered this warrior's trance.

Inside, he stepped into the dungeon's first floor, a forest filled with giant flora and fauna, as if the dungeoneers had shrunk down to become the size of ants. The grass towered overhead like a jungle, and the trees contained multitudes. Aside from surviving, simply finding the second floor entrance could be a challenge for the unprepared delver.

The boy started walking before Ainsley could adjust his eyepiece to detect mana. The boy pulled off his bow, then stuck the handle of his glaive—Ainsley's glaive, and Ainsley's bow—through the neck of the wyvern scale jacket he wore, feeding it down until the curved blade was positioned over his left shoulder. He nocked an arrow and loosed before Ainsley could see what he fired at. A screech in the distance told Ainsley the boy hit his mark.

The boy continued walking, letting loose two more arrows as he went, resulting in two more painful cries.

It seemed the boy had reasoned out he should head towards the direction of the densest mana, though quickly that was becoming the area nearest the boy as his strange ability pulled the dungeon's mana to himself.

A number of roars in the surrounding area proclaimed their dislike of this turn of events. Dungeon beasts lived off of the dungeon's mana. To take it away…

Ainsley feared he might have made a mistake, bringing the boy into the dungeon. His mere presence would send the entire floor into a frenzy.

The boy hardly seemed worried. He hadn't even conjured someone to watch his back. As the creatures charged, he dropped the bow and pulled out his glaive. He dispatched the first ant with a single strike, fluidly spinning to spear a second through the head without pause. Like an automaton he killed, tireless, never hesitating, never forgetting to advance towards their goal.

Picking up his bow and returning it to his storage, Ainsley decided to simply follow and see just what this Hero could do. At this pace they would be at the entrance to the next floor in less than an hour.

Status

Silas Aegis

11y 3s 23d 2h

L14 (526/560 XP)

H: 49.0/49 (49/day rest)

S: 48.6/49 (49/min rest)

M: 28.0/28 (-1) (29% eff.)

2 AP

STR: 39 (+20)

AGI: 39 (+20)

END: 49 (+20)

VIT: 49 (+20)

PER: 39 (+20)

WIL: 29

WIT: 20

SPI: 29

AFF: 29

CHA: 12

2/8 SP

29 Aura Control (WIL)

29 Eve (VIT)

29 Gaming (WIT)

29 Gaming Necessities (WIL)

29 Interface (WIL)

29 Mana Magnet (AFF)

29 Mana Manipulation (WIL/WIT)

29 Mana Sense (AFF)

29 Obscurity (SPI)

29 Pain Resistance (WIL)

29 Poison Resistance (END)

29 Programming (WIT)

29 Sight Reading (WIT)

29 Sleep Resistance (END)

19 Bargaining (WIT)

19 Help (WIT)

19 Language: Artean (WIT)

19 Pestilence Resistance (END)

19 Piano (AGI)

09 Chemistry (WIT)

09 Summon Character (CHA)

07 Countdown to the End (SPI)