I watched Nix go and then bent my considerable faculties to the design of a new plant. I decided in that moment that anything I made was going to be crossed with the Silver Star. If I could produce plants that automatically turned mana into light aspect for me, before it ever reached my dungeon, I would have a much easier time processing and absorbing.

I started with crops they’d want to raise regularly. Wheat and Corn. I began by bringing the pattern for wheat to the front of my mind, carefully observing it. As I reviewed I considered what Nix had said. I needed to take the individual parts and fit them together, like bits of a puzzle. The problem was that I didn’t know what made the plants do what they did, which meant I had no idea what parts to choose. Oh how I wish I had access to one of the Great Libraries.

Bending my not inconsiderable concentration on the pattern before me I slowly began to understand more about it. What looked like a single, solid seed was in fact made up of many, many tiny components, which themselves were made up of smaller components, which were made of even tinier components. There were words for these things… what were they… Cells! And… hmmm Organelles? I think? I’m a mathematician, not a biologist! The tiniest parts were called Atoms.

One might wonder how I know about Atoms and Cells, the answer of course is simple. Any sufficiently advanced magic works just like science. We’d made great strides in such areas before The Cataclysm. Still, this was the kind of stuff that was really only learned in certain circles. We didn’t have the formal education structure of some worlds.

Back to the matter at hand however, I studied the cells and organelles of the wheat, slowly learning what each and every part did. Next I examined the silver star, finding much the same, except for a few organelles that, after some experimentation, I determined were key to its ability to absorb and refine mana. With all the patience I could muster I overlaid these key structures on the cells of the wheat pattern, and slowly merged the two with streams of mana. I was surprised in how much it took for such a small change. The final product popped into existence. A single silvery seed which fell to the fertile soil of the floor.

Feeding it essence I watched as it grew quickly from a sprout to a pale golden stalk of grain. Examining it I found that it indeed had inherited the ability to absorb and purify mana. I destroyed the stalk of grain and regained the new pattern. How much more, I wondered, could I change it? I considered what else I might do to it, could I add properties of Healer’s Helper? What about Warrior’s Friend? Eagerly I set to the task. To my dismay I could only include one of the two before the pattern became impossible to work with.

Feeling pleased with my success I turned my mind to the matter of dungeon life and complexity. I had known there was a way to make it more complex, dungeon creatures and plants always increase in complexity the further one goes into a dungeon. However I’d never cracked the secret of how dungeon creatures were made. It’s awfully hard to hold a conversation with a belligerent semi-sentient rock that wants to eat you. This of course made me wonder how Nix knew about dungeons and how they made things.

After my experimentation I decided to cross the Silver Wheat with the Healer’s Helper. The final creation was a pale rose-gold stalk of wheat that, I judged, should have benefits for one’s health. Moving on to the corn I decided to give it the benefits of warrior’s friend along with those of the silver star. Interestingly the kernels of the corn turned a vibrant, electric yellow.

I altered all the herbs I had with both silver star and wizard’s wort. And then I placed a barrel with each type of seed in the wine cellar of the castle, I’d have Nix direct Jake to it after they delivered my supplies.

It was at this point that I realized I was an idiot. Barrels were made of wood, that meant I could recreate the trees they were made from, and wine was made from… well this wine had been made from purple seeded grapes, as was the vinegar. Taking stock I found I knew three types of tree, White Oak, Yew, and Redwood. My immediate wont was to add them directly to my farm floor, however I made myself stop and consider. If I added them as they were now, unchanged regular trees, then I’d have to either force evolve them later, or rip them out to plant new, more evolved trees. Further, I had to decide what I was doing with my floors.

The farm floor had been made out of desperation, due to the low level of ambient mana. However with Nix’s plan there were… other options. He probably hadn’t realized it, but a mana barrier was very similar to a Dungeon’s natural domain, which pulled in and held mana. If I could pool enough mana to expand my aura over several miles in one go, I could potentially claim the entire interior of the barrier. This was a way off of course, I’d need to stockpile mana for a long time at the current rate, but it’d be worth it to be the first ever surface dungeon.

Dreams of world domination aside, I needed to decide what I was doing. This of course raised more questions. Would I actually have adventurers plumbing my depths? By the sounds of it there simply weren’t people to spare up there. What did that mean for me? Again, I pushed these thoughts aside and forced myself to focus.

In the end the decision came down to one of practicality. I simply didn’t have the mana to alter all three trees. So I settled for altering a single tree, the redwood. It took many more hours of careful concentration as I slowly overlaid the required pattern. However, since I was only making a singular change, it didn’t stress my mana nearly as much as I had feared it might. Finally I planted the new redwood directly under the hole up, and scattered Oak and Yew through the rest of the cavern. With an effort of will I poured the last of my mana into making them grow, and soon I had dozens of saplings peaking above the fields of wheat.

I sat there for a while and considered my farm level. I’d shoved just about everything I could into it, and honestly it looked a mess. Corn and Wheat dominated the area with only a few saplings breaking up the sea of food crops. You couldn’t see the smaller plants that grew at ground level, the taller food crops simply blotted them out. Only the cows could be easily seen in the area, everything else could only be inferred by the movement of the plants.

As I looked I knew this wasn’t what I wanted. Currently it was a necessity, but it wasn’t aesthetically pleasing nor challenging for invaders. It was a stopgap, and I hated it. I decided that when I had the mana I would rip it all out and start again. When I had the mana. Whenever that would be.

Unsure how much time had passed as I tinkered with plants I settled back to wait for the return of Nix and the adventurers. I waited, and I waited, and I waited. Then I stopped and waited some more. I was beginning to regret giving up things like, hands, and a physical body that could move. Somehow it hadn’t crossed my mind that being a core could be so boring. As time went on I realized a lot hadn’t crossed my mind. Mentally I gritted my teeth. I was sure things would get better, eventually.

Imagining a deep and calming breath I tried to relax. I had decided to try some experiments with Mana while I waited. First and foremost I was going to try active drawing. This technique is, as the name implies, used to actively gather mana from the environment at a substantially faster rate. I wasn’t sure that a dungeon could ‘pull harder’ on ambient mana, but I was determined to find out. This of course meant trying to relax and meditate, hence the imagined breath.

Meditating wasn’t going as well as I’d planned, turns out it’s as easy for a crystal entity to get distracted as it is for a flesh and blood entity. Worse, I couldn’t actually use any of the techniques I’d learned in real life to help. This was making it difficult to focus myself, however I pressed forward and eventually reached a light, meditative state.

Now calm and ready I reached within and began to adjust my mana. The key to drawing in mana was to actively use your mana for something, without actually expending it. Normally people would do what’s known as ‘mana shaping’. It’s a technique whereby you form your mana into various objects or shapes and move them, this creates areas of low and high pressure mana. The high pressure mana is contained in the shapes you’ve made, and the low pressure mana is everywhere else. Masters of the technique can actually compress all their mana, creating a mana vacuum, which is the most efficient possible way to siphon mana.

Carefully I formed my mana as I’d been taught. Five spheres, the first a large orb, the second close in to the first, barely a dot in comparison. The third a slightly bigger dot, the fourth about 1000th the size of the sun, more easily visible than the two other masses. Then finally, way far away from the rest of them, a final orb about half the size of the first. I gazed at the orbs for a moment, and then I set them spinning. First on their axes, and then next I sent the three inner orbs running in ellipses around the first. Finally both the first sphere and the final began an intricate, albeit long distance, dance around each other. Our star, surrounded by its three planets of note, and dancing with its sister, which failed to ignite. Once the model was completed and moving I could feel the mana start to flow into me at slightly faster pace. Unfortunately it wasn’t much, barely more than I was getting passively. I suppose I truly was consuming all the mana I possibly could. With a sigh I released the model, and went back to waiting.