Not ok. That one point of mana was all Avery has gotten from increasing the passageways volume. Apparently the amount gained, if any, was small enough the display didn't feel the need to update with the fractional change.

Now that she had debunked her theory that she would be able to recoup that massive mana deficit through the simple removal of stone, there was a pressing need for a new strategy. If it took a full two meter square by ten meter corridor to get a point of bonus mana regeneration, that would mean she would spend four hundred mana to get another one mana per hour. With how the current rate was far in the negatives, that wasn't a viable solution. If she could manipulate objects in some way, Avery would be able to open the book back up and spend the requisite time, and therefore mana, to repossess her body and lure enough slimes up to the corridor to fill up the core’s capacity, which would allow a bit more leeway in terms of being able to do anything at all to solve her problem.

One option Avery refused to consider was… oh no, her body was buried under all that rubble. That either was going to hurt immensely when she got back to normal, or she was actually dead now. Hopefully the construction option had a repair function. Maybe the status screen had overestimated her intelligence. How had she not realized collapsing the ceiling would drop a giant rock on her?

Even if it was broken, there was no way Avery was going to deconstruct her own body. That would be like giving up on the possibility that she could get back to working on getting into The Tower. If she got to the point where her passive mana drain was higher than her current mana, then she’d resort to it, but that meant she still had about two hours before having to even considering that line of action. Thinking about it, Avery had never heard of a dungeon that spawned humans.

Shaking that thought out of her mind, metaphorically, the necromancer opens up the construction menu.

Construction Options Feature Cost Feature Cost Corridor (10 m) 10 Square Room (20 m) 20 Stalagmite 2 Stalactite 2 Pit (2 m) 5 Reinforcement 1 Stone Weapon 1-400 Stone Armor 1800 Statue 1-∞ Engraving 1 Difficult Terrain 5 Column 5

Oh. Well, that made her feel even dumber than before. If she’d opened this up instead of trying to be clever and spending ten mana to drop chunks of rock on her own head, she’d be one problem better off.

Plus, this was far less expensive than trying to carve out an entire dungeon one cubic meter of material at a time. Two and a half percent the mana cost. That still probably wasn’t enough to bring her out of the red though. Quick calculations put her as only being able to afford two hundred corridors or so, which would leave her at negative four hundred mana regeneration, if space wasn’t an issue and the volume wasn’t actually related to the rate. Before she could lose too much more mana waffling around in menus, the necromancer spent the twenty mana to make the area around the core into a proper room. The rock immediately faded into nothing, and she got a notification that her mana regeneration had increased by five. Still not enough. Two thousand mana would give one hundred rooms, which would still leave over a hundred negative regeneration and a nearly completely depleted soul. Annoyed, Avery pushed away the construction menu to bring up the demolition one and see if she could clear out these loose rocks.

Before she could do anything though, the options menu flickered and disappeared as the blanket at the entrance moved to the side.

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Running toward the bridge was an elf with one of the poking swords. The Mage of Magic thought they were called rapiers, but couldn’t remember off the top of its head. It was holding the thing in both hands, which meant it didn’t have a shield or any way to defend against the Mage’s incredible magical ability. That being said, it rarely hurt to try the peaceful path first. Dropping the piece of chicken it was halfway done eating, the Mage throws the bag of chicken to the elf, figuring it would either let go of the weapon or get distracted from the thing they were chasing after it to get back hitting the creature in the face. Unfortunately for the Mage, it turned out it was not the best at throwing large bags long distances. Rather than distracting the elf and making it dodge, move out of the way, or anything at all to change its behavior, the bag flew through the air far enough to not fall into the river, and landed a meter to the side of the bridge’s adventurer-ward entrance. On the other hand, with its stature being far lower to the ground than an elf’s typical sparring partner, the kobold was able to dodge backward as the elf’s two-handed downward swing arced closer to its origin point as it descended to kobold head-height.

Deciding that was probably not the best place to be standing, the Mage booked it. Spotting a chance to get a free swing in, the elf swung their sword as hard as they could toward the fleeing back, sacrificing accuracy for power. That proved to be a mistake, as the blade just barely slid over the kobold’s hide. Granted, had it hit the weapon would have been enough to cut deeply into the lizard, rendering it helpless, but the tiny creature had a dash of luck on its side.

Making distance from the swordself on the choke point, the Mage of Magic waves its hand to conjure a transparent force field around itself, and then gets to the business of casting magic. Drawing forth all the mana it had remaining in its small body, the Mage summons from the dark nightmare that was the underside of a chicken kebab stall’s grill. A thick layer of grease appears, coating the bridge, the lower parts of the elf, and a few fish that had the misfortune of swimming under the bridge at that particular moment. The elf slides on the slippery substance, but manages to catch themself before falling over. They glare at the kobold, and carefully step over and through the slippery sloped surface until they are back on the flat ground, uncovered by grease. Raising an eyebrow, the elf with the fancy sword and a shirt of metal chains non-verbally dares the kobold with absolutely nothing to make the next move.

In response, the kobold shrugs, condenses the ambient mana into a ball of raw arcane energy, launches it at the elf, and runs. On the other side of the bridge, the hunter spots movement and unlooses an arrow. It does not fly straight, and through the vagaries of chance the wooden shaft shunks itself into the left side of the elf’s back, right above the heart. Completely standing still through all of this, the elf just waits as the arrow shatters itself on their armor and the arcane missile just flies off into the distance.

From the midpoint of the expanse between the church and the bridge, the voice of someone slow yells out.

“Oy, I think this is the loot.”

The elf glares at the retreating descendant of dragons, and calmly walks back over the bridge, the sludge having already dissolved into the void and back to where it came from. Sure enough, there was a small bag of chicken by the side of the bridge, held by the dwarven cleric. The elf could chase down the lizard, but the creature was slippery, and by the time it had subdued the thing these two would have already claimed the reward. Mildly unhappy about the turnout, the elf quietly filed in behind the dwarf as the human led them both back to the source of their reward.