The Gate Traveler

This time, we were smart when we entered the dungeon. Al clung tightly to my back while Mahya perched on Rue’s, and we both flew in slowly. The basin was only one-third full of water, so we had to get close to the surface for the green sharks to attack. A few lunged toward us, but so few that electrifying the water felt pointless. Every time a shark leaped, either Al, Rue, or I caught it with telekinesis and squished it. Al turned his catches into crystals while I handled mine and Rue’s.

After five minutes, Mahya sighed and remarked, “I feel so useless.”

I reached into my Storage and pulled out a laundry basket, handing it to her with a smirk. “Catch them with this, kill them however you want, and turn them into crystals.”

She took the basket but frowned, not looking happier. I suspected it was because she couldn’t use her beloved rifle.

We finished the few sharks that dared approach in less than half an hour. The floor guardian still didn’t show up, so I gently set Al down, and he immediately retrieved his jet ski. Rue lowered Mahya, who did the same. We made three rounds on the small lake, but nothing appeared—no new sharks or floor guardian.

I glanced at Mahya and asked, “Doesn’t this seem strange to you compared to last time?”

“No. This dungeon was probably never cleared, so it was packed to the max. Now that we’ve cleared it, its level matches the level of the world.”

I frowned in thought. “I thought the dungeon throws out the trash mana to make room for more trash. Or at least that’s what you and Lis explained to me if I remember correctly.”

Mahya nodded. “You’re right, and I’m sure quite a few of those green sharks found their way out. But with the number of critters in that swamp, I don’t think they survived more than a few minutes.”

“Good to know.”

I removed my core and prepared to drain the water, but Mahya quickly stopped me. “No. Don’t drain the water.”

“Why?”

“Because if we empty the dungeon again, we’ll have to wait two to three weeks until it regenerates. If we don’t empty it, we can run it again in a day or two.”

I shrugged, returning the core to Storage, and said, “Good idea.”

We headed through the opening in the center of the sphere again, but the stairs were shorter this time—just twenty steps, not the five-minute descent from the previous time. When we emerged on the other side on the hill, the dungeon was still the same size but looked completely different. A haze replaced the sky and clouds’ illusion, and a thin layer of soil covered most of the area, with small patches of short grass scattered here and there. I looked up and saw the core still floating in the air, but now it didn’t resemble the sun—just a tiny, glowing orb.

I flew up, noting how easy it was to approach the core. It still radiated heat but was much weaker now. When I touched it, I felt the warm surface, and I received a cheerfully tied scroll with a green ribbon, like a birthday present. I descended, and as we gathered around, they each touched the core and received a scroll.

I identified my scroll:

Verdant Grasp Using this spell, the spellcaster can cause thick roots and vines to burst from the ground, entangling and restraining enemies. The roots wrap tightly around their targets, immobilizing them and making it difficult to break free. It shows particular effectiveness in forested or plant-rich environments, where summoning natural growth can quickly aid in capturing foes.

 

Okey-dokey.

Mahya again threw a fist in the air and exclaimed, “Yes!”

Al looked equally pleased, his smile broad. Their reactions genuinely surprised me.

“I thought we were after affinity stones,” I asked.

“Not exactly,” Al replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “Whenever a dungeon is cleared, the initial run consistently provides a superior reward. In subsequent attempts, the rewards are significantly diminished. Did you not observe this in the dungeon with the silver?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes, I noticed. I assumed Mahya suggested releasing the core because she hoped for another affinity stone.”

“Not at all,” Mahya interjected, shaking her head. “I knew we’d only get one. But because the first reward was so amazing, I was pretty sure the next reward would be good, too. I suspected we’d get spells—or at least I hoped we would—and I was right. I told you I was a genius, didn’t I?”

I shook my head, rolling my eyes. I didn’t have a response.

The following day, we completed another run, which was much the same, though with even fewer sharks. It was getting boring.

Reward:

Flourish Using this spell, the spellcaster can expedite the growth of plants. It can make seeds sprout, flowers bloom, and trees grow taller, thicker, and sturdier. It can be used to grow natural resources quickly, create impenetrable plant barriers, or restore barren environments.

 

At least the reward was good.

The third run felt different right from the start. As I entered the dungeon, the portal seemed off—something resisted me. It was as if sticky mud or gel was trying to prevent my entry. I had to push harder, focusing on reaching the other side. Finally, with a sudden pop, I broke through. Rue, with Mahya on his back, took longer. I guessed he needed to figure out how to push through the stickiness. But I trusted my boy to succeed.

I felt Al murmur against my back, his voice filled with concern. “I do not think we are that strong.”

When Rue and Mahya finally made it through the portal, Mahya immediately began cursing the dungeon. “Weird, crooked, stupid, stingy dungeon…” She continued to rant, cursing its creator and even its entire lineage.

Once she finally calmed down, I turned to her, curious. “What’s going on?”

Al’s voice came from behind me, sounding resigned. “This is the last time we can run this dungeon.”

“Why?” I asked, puzzled.

“Because we appear to be too strong,” Al explained.

Mahya looked at him in surprise, her brow furrowed. “What are you talking about? How does this have anything to do with this stupid, stingy, weird-ass dungeon?”

“It is something I read in one of my ancestors’ journals,” Al replied. “He mentioned that if he wanted to keep gaining levels, he would have to move to a world with much higher mana levels. The last three dungeons he ran became sticky after two or three attempts.”

Mahya shook her head, disbelief in her voice. “I’ve never heard anything like that. Not from my parents and not from Lis. On the contrary, they all said no one knows what determines the number of times you can run a dungeon.”

“That is true,” Al acknowledged. “The total number of times a dungeon can be run does vary, and no one knows why. But based on what my ancestor wrote, if the level of the person running the dungeon is too high for the dungeon’s level, the number of runs decreases significantly—sometimes by two or three times.”

Feeling strange in the middle of this conversation with Al still hanging on my back, I interjected, “Guys, how about we take care of the sharks and continue this discussion on the second floor?”

They both laughed, and Mahya nodded. “Agreed.”

Again, the number of sharks was minimal, and we dealt with them in ten minutes. I threw my core into the water and commanded it to absorb every drop. In less than an hour, I retrieved the core from the now dry sphere and flew with Al toward the opening to the second floor. Once we reached the second floor, I turned to them, saying, “Now you can continue the in-depth discussion.”

Mahya smiled, shaking her head. “We’ve pretty much finished it. But I have an idea. Before we take the core, I want to test something. The conditions here are perfect.”

“What?” I asked.

Mahya’s eyes lit up with excitement. “We have piles of weapons and explosives from Earth. I know the 47 rifle works, but I have no idea about the rest. This dungeon is a separate, closed space—perfect for testing all the different weapons and explosives to see what works and what doesn’t. And besides, this weird dungeon deserves it.”

I shrugged, giving her a nod. “If that’s what you want to do, go for it.”

Al and I headed to the far end of the space while Mahya went to the opposite side. I opened my house in a compact configuration, asked it to extend the deck with a barbecue, and began preparing lunch. Rue nudged Al to scratch his ears until the food was ready. Al laughed and obliged. As I cooked, gunshots and explosions echoed from Mahya’s side. It was quieter than expected; I expected the noise to shake the dungeon and leave me half-deaf. But that wasn’t the case—It was loud but tolerable.

When the food was ready, I called Mahya over. She arrived and reported the results. “The C4, flashbang grenades, Claymore mines, and IEDs don’t work. The suppressors are functional, and the Magpul FMG-9 you picked up in Trinidad is also a no-go. Everything else works.”

I frowned slightly. “Isn’t that the full list of explosives?”

Mahya shook her head. “No, the stick grenades, fragmentation grenades, and smoke grenades work great. Judging by the fact that regular explosives work as well as bullets, I think if we find a trigger solution that operates on mana instead of electronics, I can make the C4, Claymore mines, IEDs, and flashbang grenades work, too. But I’ll only know for sure once I solve the trigger issue.”

She looked at me with a hopeful expression, her eyes practically pleading. I raised my hands defensively and said, “Don’t look at me. I hate guns and explosives. This is your baby and yours alone.”

Mahya stuck her tongue out at me but then laughed and said, “Fair enough.”

After lunch, I was about to close the house, but Mahya stopped me. She began taking out more crates, placing them on the deck, and then looked at me. “Tell your house to absorb these,” she instructed.

“What are they?”

“Red dot sights and scopes,” she explained. “They’re electronic, so they definitely won’t work in a mana world. We should have given them to the house earlier. Plus, some suppressors since I don’t need so many and the crates of the Magpul FMG-9s you brought me. I opened one—it has electronic circuits, so it’s useless.”

“Don’t you want to try turning them into Magitech?” I asked.

She gave me a long, almost pitying look, as if explaining something obvious to a clueless child. “I kept two crates for myself, don’t worry. But I’m not going to convert twelve crates with 36 guns into Magitech. I’ve got better things to do.”

I had a moment of uncertainty. “I’m not sure I want to feed my house advanced weapons.”

Mahya placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You’re the Dungeon Master. Your house will never produce anything you don’t want. Right now, it’s just a collection of metal and other materials.”

That convinced me, and I told the house to absorb all the crates. Once all the crates were gone, I instructed the core to close the house and absorb all the dungeon’s materials. The same phenomenon repeated—the entire dungeon landscape no longer resembled soil, grass, and stones, but transformed into a swirl of green, yellow, and brown, like acrylic paint flowing toward the core and being absorbed into it.

“You know,” I said to both of them, “when I see this and how the dungeon looks at the end, with only the borders of the haze visible, I realize we didn’t clean out the other dungeons as much as we could have. When we finished those, we were still standing on solid ground—there was a stone maze, and so on.”

“Yeah, I know,” Maya replied. “I thought about that last time we did this.”

“Next time,” Al said.

I nodded. There was no point in crying over spilled milk or an unharvested dungeon.

I flew straight up toward the other core without waiting for the core to finish. As soon as I touched it, I received another scroll. When I descended, everyone else received a scroll as well.

Nature’s Path Using this spell, the spellcaster can create a surface composed of stable plant roots that will temporarily cover a difficult terrain. The roots form a stable and smooth route over mud, water, or narrow ravines. Once the spell ends, this path will return to its original state, but it serves as a useful way to navigate difficult terrain without causing harm to the surrounding environment.

 

I went to retrieve my core to store it before storing the new one and collapsing the dungeon, but something stopped me in my tracks. When I was a few meters away from my core, a wave of intense hunger emanated from it, a clear yearning directed at the new core.

I took a few steps back, and the hunger subsided slightly. It seemed to depend on proximity. “Mahya,” I called out, alarmed.

She walked over, looking worried. “What’s up?”

“When I bring this new core closer to my core, I can feel that my core wants to consume it. I thought you needed a lot of mana to unite cores. What’s going on here?”

Mahya frowned, thinking for a moment. “I don’t think most normal rules apply to your core. I read somewhere that a dungeon guardian reaches sentience after about five hundred years, and the one guarding your core may have been in that state for a long time. Your core is huge! I’ve never heard of one bigger than twenty centimeters; yours is nearly forty. So, I don’t think any of the usual rules apply to it. Anyway, the new core is up to you—either keep it or let your core consume it.”

I shook my head. “My core eats plenty of mana. It can do without a dungeon core meal. I’ll save it for the Jeep.”

Mahya patted me on the back, grinning. “Much better idea. If our luck with dungeons keeps up, we might give your core a core or two to eat. Who knows, maybe one day it’ll be a spaceship core.”

I chuckled, shaking my head at her enthusiasm. “That’s your dream, not mine.”

She gave me a playful smirk. “What, you’re going to let me travel in space alone? And who’s going to cook for me?”

I laughed and shook my head. She was getting too spoiled.

We should have put some thought into what would happen when we collapsed the dungeon.

Why?

Because as soon as the dungeon started to fall apart, it dumped us in the middle of the swamp, into the cold standing water with the creatures. It wasn’t too deep, and as soon as I recovered from the initial shock, I stood up and started humming, but it was enough for something with teeth to latch on my leg. I flew into the air and discovered that it was a baby crocodile-fish. It was about thirty centimeters long, not two or three meters like Daddy or Mommy. I didn’t want to kill it. It was cute in a spooky and twisted way. I released its teeth from my leg and threw it into the water. Al and Mahya, in the meantime, got on jet skis, and Rue hovered by my side.

We went back to the last place we opened the house. It was still the only place where we could inflate the balloon, so after consulting, I opened the house. It was already afternoon, and we decided to leave tomorrow. We were all sick of the swamp.

After dinner, I felt restless and needed some time alone to clear my head. There wasn’t anything specific bothering me; I just craved solitude. I soared above the trees and gazed at the sky. The constellations were unfamiliar, a stark contrast to what I knew. With my back to the swamp and my face turned to the stars, I floated there, lost in their brilliance.

Soon, I felt an irresistible urge to move. I started by drifting side to side, effortlessly gliding through the air. Then, I mixed it up with a figure-eight pattern, weaving through the sky in a graceful rhythm. The freedom of movement was exhilarating—I dove toward the ground, only to pull up at the last second. It felt like an incredible release, a liberating break from everything.

For the first time, I was flying just for the sheer joy of it, with no goal in mind. As I soared through the air, the world below seemed to fade away, leaving only the vast, open sky above. The sense of freedom was intoxicating, a pure, unfiltered thrill that made everything else vanish from my mind.

Laughter bubbled out of me, spontaneous and infectious. I sped up, feeling the rush of the air as I pushed faster. The exhilaration of flight was overwhelming—a heady mix of joy and freedom. The magic of flight felt like it was carrying me beyond ordinary limits, and every turn and dive was a burst of unrestrained happiness.

As I soared higher, I felt the sheer thrill of the open sky; the wind rushing past me like a wild dance. I didn’t have to think about anything except the thrill of the moment. My laughter echoed through the air, a perfect reflection of the joy and freedom I was experiencing. Flying like this was a new kind of liberation, a celebration of the magic that let me escape and just enjoy the flight.

At one point, I straightened my legs toward the ground and began spinning like an ice skater, my arms stretched out to my sides. I spun faster and faster, laughing all the while. The wind sensed my joy and joined in. It began swirling around me, and before I knew it, I was at the center of a twister in the sky. I stopped my spinning and floated in the vortex’s eye. Instinctively, I pointed my hands downward. The vortex touched down.

Water and pieces of wood flew about. I even thought I saw a flying snake.

Oops!

I checked to make sure Mahya and Al were safely away from the disturbance. They were a few kilometers off, so I relaxed.

Reflecting on what I’d just done, I didn’t send any thoughts to the wind; I simply directed it, and it obeyed. Checking my profile, I saw that finally, besides Wind, I had [Novice].

I looked up at the sky and said, “What? Couldn’t you have provided a bit of explanation? Why do I have to figure everything out on my own? I’m starting to get the hang of it, but why not offer some guidance? It’s called the Guidance, for heaven’s sake, but it doesn’t actually guide—just provides general information.”

For the first time, I felt a hint of embarrassment, or maybe uncertainty, directed at me. Then came a sense of anticipation.

“No, no, no,” I said. “It’s your mess. You handle it. Don’t expect anything from me.”

I felt amusement and a touch of parental affection directed at me. I rolled my eyes. It seemed like the only fitting response at that moment.

I had to calm down from my frustration with the so-called “Guidance.” The name was so misleading. To clear my head, I pulled out my guitar and played. The soothing strum of the strings quickly helped me settle my thoughts, and soon, I wrote lyrics for a new song. The joy of my recent flight was my inspiration—every note and line reflected the exhilaration I’d felt.

Despite the frustration, my life in the present moment felt incredibly amazing. The thrill of flying, the freedom, and the pure delight I’d experienced were all woven into the music. It was a perfect reminder that even amidst my annoyance, there were moments of pure joy and beauty to be celebrated. I called the song Wings of Stardust because that's how I felt, like I had wings made of the stardust above.

Wings of Stardust

In the realm where sky and dreams collide,
Winds of magic whisper, guiding my glide.
With a heart unbound and spirit free,
I take to the air, where my soul can be.

In the vast expanse where clouds waltz free,
Stars shine like keys to infinity.
My spirit unfurls, a blossom in flight,
Brushing existence in the endless night.

Chorus:
Wings of stardust, I rise and soar,
Through the endless night, forevermore.
In the cosmic dance, where dreams ignite,
I’m an unseen angel, born to flight.

I soar on winds of stardust dreams,
Where day and night are not what they seem.
Twilight’s glow, an otherworldly hue,
I’m an unseen angel threading pathways anew.

With a heart unbound and spirit free,
I take to the air, where my soul can be.
In the vast expanse where clouds waltz free,
Stars shine like keys to infinity.
My spirit unfurls, a blossom in flight,
Brushing existence in the endless night.

Chorus:
Wings of stardust, I rise and soar,
Through the endless night, forevermore.
In the cosmic dance, where dreams ignite,
I’m an unseen angel, born to flight.

I soar on winds of stardust dreams,
Where day and night are not what they seem.
Twilight’s glow, an otherworldly hue,
I’m an unseen angel threading pathways anew.

I glide weightless, tracing cosmic art,
A vessel of wonder, playing my part.
Twilight cradles me in its ethereal glow,
An unseen angel, putting on a stellar show.

Oh, the ecstasy of boundless blue,
Surrendering anchors, magic rings true.
Sky’s precious relic, eternally free,
A cosmic nomad, that’s who I’ll be.

Chorus:
Wings of stardust, I rise and soar,
Through the endless night, forevermore.
In the cosmic dance, where dreams ignite,
I’m an unseen angel, born to flight.

As night falls, stars ignite the way,
Constellations weave tales of the day.
Galaxies beckon from afar,
In cosmic silence, I’m a shooting star.

I traverse the firmament, a comet’s flight,
Breeze and darkness dance in the night.
Stardust trails in my celestial wake,
An unseen angel, cosmic paths I make.

Feathers of light, my essence takes wing,
At golden dawn, I’m reborn to sing.
Sun’s warm kiss, moon’s gentle embrace,
In this boundless sky, I’ve found my place.

In this boundless sky, I’ve found to embrace.
In this boundless sky, I’ve found my place.

Wings of these winds and gentle breeze,
My soul finds peace in the skies with ease.
A symphony of stars sings my song,
In this celestial dance, I forever belong.

In this sky where stars softly gleam,
I need no wings to live this dream.
Magic lifts me to touch the divine,
Leaving stardust as my cosmic sign.

Chorus:
Wings of stardust, I rise and soar,
Through the endless night, forevermore.
In the cosmic dance, where dreams ignite,
I’m an unseen angel, born to flight.
I traverse the firmament, a comet’s flight,
Breeze and darkness dance in the night.
Stardust trails in my celestial wake,
An unseen angel, cosmic paths I make.