Primer for the Apocalypse

I watched impassively as the Compressed Space Bolt detonated from within the formerly time-paused challenger. I’d modified the spell to be more volatile than normal, and the resultant explosion was a bit gorier than I expected.

Still, aside from mild disgust and annoyance, I felt little for the recently deceased individual.

“That was a bit more dramatic than the last few,” Zavira said with a gleam in her eyes as she took in the red spray.

While Zavira wasn’t necessarily bloodthirsty, she was still quite set on striking back against those who would target us. I’d convinced her to let things go for a while, but after more than two months in the labyrinth, nothing had really changed.

If anything, things were worse now that people were willing to actively attack us.

This was the fourth attempted ambush in as many days, and while our responses had gotten progressively more violent, it seemed our efforts were doing little to dissuade those intent on killing us.

There were still a few who tried to ingratiate themselves with us for whatever small advantages our favor might provide, but most had realized that approach would be fruitless – or potentially dangerous – and moved on.

The attackers, though…

“You’re the one who said we should make a statement,” I replied loudly, intentionally allowing my voice to carry. “I’m tired of being attacked by a bunch of people acting like bandits, and banditry is punishable by death.”

“How are you any different?” a burly man in thick leather armor asked after exiting a nearby building. “You kill people and take their belongings. How is that any different from what they’re trying to do?”

I eyed the man with interest, knowing that he’d watched as the last attacker had attempted to ambush us. I wasn’t sure if the man was simply a bystander or something more. Ultimately, it didn’t really matter as long as he didn’t actively pose a threat.

“We didn’t attack them. That’s the difference,” Zavira pointed out angrily. “We only acted in self-defense.”

“And why wouldn’t we get the spoils of combat?” I added as I approached the place that I suspected the man’s inventory would manifest. “You think we should just give everything away after defending ourselves?”

“How can you call what you did self-defense?” the man retorted haughtily. “Once you had that man locked in place, it wasn’t like he was still a threat.”

I shook my head. “I’m tired of being attacked because people don’t seem to get it. They knowingly attacked a Time Mage. What did they think was going to happen?”

“I don’t think most Time Mages have the same advantages you do,” Zavira said quietly, drawing my attention away from the interloper.

“Why should I waste mana for an illusion of fairness?” I replied. “I’m done playing nice. Weren’t you the one who advocated for destroying everyone who attacked us?”

Zavira nodded. “I still do. I’m just saying, most Time Mages can’t do the things that you do. At least, they can’t to the same degree.”

I shrugged uncaringly and stared at the ground until a pile of goods materialized.

“Sucks for them,” I said as I stored everything in my ring, not giving any observers a chance to find any more motivations to attack.

Zavira’s brow furrowed worriedly.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked as quietly as she could manage.

Overtly ignoring the man who was still trying to shame us for defending ourselves, I turned to Zavira.

“I’m fine,” I said tightly. “I’m mostly just disappointed and annoyed. I feel like the dungeon is changing me, and I worry that my family won’t recognize me when I get back.”

“Don’t you keep in touch with them?” she asked with a touch of confusion.

“I do,” I said. “But it’s not really the same. Most of our interactions are superficial since I don’t want to worry them any more than they already are. Every message we exchange only makes me feel more separated from everyone and everything outside of the dungeon.”

“Well, I mean, we are separated,” Zavira said lightly. “But I know what you mean. I guess I’m lucky that my family already has an idea of what the dungeon is like, so I don’t feel the need to minimize my experiences here.”

We walked toward the end of the town in silence, leaving the talkative observer behind. I was glad he didn’t follow us.

There was no real purpose in our daily walk aside from creating an opportunity for people to attack. Sometimes, we stopped by a restaurant or the market, but today wasn’t one of those days.

When we made it back to the apartments, Zavira said, “We’re still re-entering the labyrinth tomorrow, right?”

I nodded slowly and stopped just outside of my door. “Yeah. I’ll probably try the Ice Zone this time.”

While the Metal Labyrinth hadn’t been bad, the almost modern feel of the area had been like a sore tooth that constantly ached. Instead of being comforting, the sleek metal hallways and practically futuristic details had created an almost depressive nostalgia for me.

Being locked in such an environment for two months had only made my mood worse, and I’d been tempted to backtrack and pick a different zone more than once.

Had I not already felt down, the environment probably wouldn’t have bothered me. But between the plots to kill us, learning that I had a new sibling on the way, and the increasing sense of detachment that I felt from my family… my thoughts had kinda snowballed.

It was hard to imagine that I still had almost twenty years remaining before I could get a break from the dungeon and visit the people I cared about.

If it was this bad already, I worried about how I would feel by the time I reached the next floor.

The Metal golems and odd Metal-eating spiders with razor-like webs had provided a little bit of a distraction. But once I got a feel for the mobs, they were more annoying than anything.

“I’ll challenge the Crystal Labyrinth, then. We can compare notes and share materials later,” Zavira decided before continuing down the hallway. “See you in the morning!”

Months passed, and then years.

Zavira and I developed a bit of a reputation, but neither of us cared very much since it kept people from randomly attacking us.

Occasionally, some overly brave (or stupid) soul would make an attempt, but we never went anywhere without our [Barrier] talismans fully charged and active.

Progressing in the labyrinths was harder than on the other floors, though I imagined that was by design.

We eventually found the Hot Spring, and making use of the magical waters did a lot to boost our morale.

It was located in the safe zone connecting the Metal and Ice Labyrinths between the High and Peak-Tier stages of the floor. That safe zone was the only one that was built up in any appreciable way. Even then, the accommodations were light.

At some point, one of the challengers had used Earth magic to build a tavern, which he ran as his primary focus. The entrepreneur was one of the few challengers at this level who focused more heavily on professional experience as opposed to fighting.

There were a couple of others slowly progressing via their professions, but most with such focuses tended to leave shortly after arriving on the floor.

They weren’t the only ones.

Zavira and I had watched as more than one new arrivals had read the notification upon arrival and promptly exited the dungeon.

I wasn’t sure if they were people like Ava who had always planned to escape the dungeon as soon as possible, or if they were simply that put off by the change in format and opted to leave without bothering to attempt the floor.

I struggled to imagine the latter, but I didn’t doubt it happened occasionally.

A message from Zavira blinked in the periphery of my vision, and I paused to read it.

[Zavira: Did you do it yet?]

I chuckled lightly before responding.

[Me: No. You’re distracting me.]

[Zavira: I’ve been ready for ages. Hurry up already!]

I shook my head at Zavira’s eagerness.

After eighteen years, Zavira had finally reached level sixty-nine – Peak Tier Seven. While I’d accomplished that milestone two years earlier, Zavira had only reached it a few days before.

I wanted to wait to enter the Trial until I advanced Enchanting to Expert. I’d hoped to accomplish that feat before Zavira became eligible to enter the Trial since it was one that we could do together. But now that she’d finally reached Peak-Tier, we were being held back by my lack of skill progression.

I’d become fixated over the years on jumping past Expert and becoming a Master Enchanter using the Trial’s reward. While I knew other good options were available, I was unwilling to compromise unless I had no other choice.

I’d been wholly focused on Enchanting for the last several months as Zavira drew ever nearer level sixty-nine, and was so close to breaking through the skill barrier. I just needed one good success to push me over the edge.

Master Kairos’s inheritance had proven immensely helpful in filling in some of my gaps in education, even if he had technically broken some rules.

Having been a member of the Enchanters’ Guild in the other timeline, I knew he wasn’t supposed to share advanced information with me, even if I was his disciple. Since I wasn’t a member of the guild in this timeline, the lessons shouldn’t have been included.

Even if I had joined, my membership would have been put on hold when I entered the dungeon, and I wouldn’t have been eligible for advanced training.

I was sure it would cause issues in the future, especially if my progress was made known to the people in the guild. But considering I’d already be Tier Eight by then, I found it hard to worry too much.

Besides, I had no plans to become a professional Enchanter selling their wares to the public. Anything I personally made would be given or sold to my family and members of the sect. I didn’t need to be a member to design enchantments.

Technically, I didn’t need to be a member to make and sell enchantments, either. My items just wouldn’t have the ‘Enchanters’ Guild stamp of approval’ on them.

I might have a different opinion once I left the dungeon for good. But at that point, I’d be Peak-Tier Ten, and I doubted anyone was going to harass me over not joining their little monopoly.

I shook the thoughts from my head and focused on my task. I couldn’t let my focus waver for the next part.

I’d been recreating some of my better enchantments to push my skill experience gains forward, and I felt like I was only one or two complex creations away from crossing the threshold.

While new, innovative designs were always worth more experience, a sufficiently complex enchantment was almost as good. Of course, the most valuable were new, complex creations, but those often took more time than they were contextually worth.

It was why so few Enchanters were actual innovators.

Even my current project wasn’t actually an innovation since I was taking what I’d learned from studying the growth items and applying them to my current design.

After several years of effort, I’d managed to modify Find Hidden into Reveal Enchantment. I still had the original spell as well, but the upgraded version had worked wonders for allowing me to study the enchantments on the growth items I’d obtained from the defeated elf.

My Space affinity made layering enchantments so much easier, as well. It was almost to the point that I wondered how any non-Space Mage could reach Expert Enchanter, given the necessity of such complex inscription methods.

Then I remembered that most Enchanters weren’t stuck in a dungeon without the advanced tools meant to make the process easier.

Since I didn’t need such devices, I carefully guided my mana into the thin sheet of Tier Seven Crystal. I’d Enlarged the piece to make it easier to work with, though it also took much more mana to enchant this way.

Consequently, the finished product would be much stronger and more effective than one crafted without taking such steps. It was just another example of why Space Mages were naturally better suited to Enchanting – not that I was an affinitist or anything.

I grabbed a few nearby mana cores and siphoned the attuned mana into their corresponding imbuing tools. The process of imbuing foreign mana into a design was slow, but thankfully, I’d gotten familiar with working with other mana types over the years.

Incorporating Arcane mana into the design was the hardest part since I rarely worked with it. If I’d been limited to the materials I could personally gather in the dungeon, I would have had to wait until I left to try my hand at crafting a growth item.

But since I could requisition specific materials through the Trading Post – at a price – it worked out well enough.

I didn’t sleep for almost a week as I finished crafting my masterpiece.

Zavira messaged me a couple of times, but I wasn’t able to respond since focused intent was paramount. I wouldn’t risk messing up because I allowed myself to get distracted.

When the final rune was inscribed and imbued, I used Shrink to slowly reduce the item to half of its original size. Going smaller was an additional risk, but I felt confident that doing so wouldn’t add any additional problems.

The enchantment was either going to work… or not.

It hadn’t failed the previous times because I shrank it too much; the failures were due to fundamental flaws in some aspect of the enchantment.

A missed connector here, a distraction while imbuing a rune there… it really didn’t take much to mess up the delicate balance of the enchantment.

Sometimes, I wondered how growth items were developed in the first place.

When the crystal tile was the size I wanted, I sent a tendril of mana into the activation rune and held my breath. I could feel the connections activate, and a sense of relief and elation washed over me.

Intermixed with my emotions was a flush of mana and knowledge – a sign that not only was the enchantment successful, but I’d finally managed to cross the skill threshold for Enchanting.

I whooped in excitement and immediately messaged Zavira to share the news.

We’d be challenging the Trial the next day.