It’s been three weeks since I got here. I’ve redug through Noel’s memories, and I think I’ve internalized customs and general knowledge pretty well. Ever since the training field disappointment, the Duke and my brother have basically ignored me, which is weird for people who were so happy that I was Marked. Same for the Duke’s other wife and my oldest brother, although they’ve done that all of Noel’s life. My mother, though…

How do I put this…

Let’s just say she’s a very good actor. She plays the part of a loving mother in front of others extremely well, I guess. Behind closed doors, though, she is one of the most verbally abusive people I have ever met. Fuck, I’m an asshole and I don’t go that far. So I just tend to stay as physically far away from her as possible.

Something I’ve also confirmed is that this Mark is extremely powerful. Or at least, it’s supposed to be. Noel’s natural talent is trash, so it evens out the power, so I’m just a bit above average. Two inch iceballs on the first try are normal here.

Well, with that being said, I’ve also done enough iceball training to be able to use the next rank of Cold related spells. While iceball is just manifesting ice, the next rank requires me to manipulate the way the ice forms. This rank of spells is really the best part about cold Manipulation in general - the versatility. If you get good enough at manipulation, you can really do anything. Pick locks by forming ice keys directly in the lock. Slide down from high places by making an ice slide. Create chasm-spanning bridges from thin air. The possibilities are theoretically endless.

I’m not quite good enough to create those bridges, but I certainly can create spikes, which are basically all I need for where I’m going. I’m ready.

I’m going to challenge my first dungeon.

This is where my game knowledge will really come into play. I know the exact locations of almost 80 percent of dungeons in this kingdom. I also know their traps, treasures, and any secret mechanics. This is such a huge advantage, I could clear these dungeons faster than Kirbe.

And when I was playing, Kirbe could clear these dungeons faster than almost anyone in the world.

I know there’s a dungeon on Everpine territory. For most players, the tutorial dungeon is the first dungeon they can encounter. But for speedrunners, there’s actually a glitch that allows you to save around ten minutes not doing tutorial stuff. The town Kirbe starts in is on the border between the DeLaascars and the Everpines. If you glitch through the mountain border, you’ll end up in Everpine territory, and just a minute walk away is a very small dungeon. Once you clear the dungeon, the tutorial dungeon quest counts as being finished, so you don’t actually have to go into the real tutorial dungeon and do all the tutorial maneuvers and such.

And now, I can use that to benefit myself.

The dungeon doesn’t have anything too valuable. Not like divine level items would just be randomly hanging out in a small dungeon. No, the reason I’m raiding this dungeon is to test my abilities. I really won’t feel comfortable with the rest of my plans unless I possess at least enough strength to solo clear this dungeon.

Shouldn’t be that hard, even with my trash talent and abilities. It’s not like I’m fighting the Labyrinth.

“Okay...”

I slap my cheeks. Once. Twice. Thrice. To die here is to die permanently, as far as I’m concerned. I can’t afford to relax. The dungeon is right in front of me.

It’s a small mound of rock, with an opening carved out in the side. Ancient Thorin symbols cover the mound. I step forward, and walk into the opening. Almost immediately, the opening closes.

Not only is it a small dungeon, but it’s also a hungry one. Even most beginner dungeons would leave the door open for a while to instill a false sense of security in their prey. It’s probably been eating animals in between hibernations, and even those are sparse around here, so it must be extremely desperate right now. Good for me, the desperate make mistakes. The ancient Thorin symbols on the ground underneath me glow, and the entire platform sinks into the ground. This particular Thorin elevator is a Gatherer elevator, which further reaffirms the dungeon’s weakness. Gatherer dungeons usually use plant entities, this one being no exception. Don’t get me wrong - a powerful Gatherer dungeon could level cities - but weak Gatherer dungeons have no true means of survival outside of getting lucky. The other types of dungeons can send their minions outside to forage, but weak Gatherers have to make their way up to the surface and slowly expand into a forest. In order to gain the nutrition to do any of that, the dungeon needs food - but they can’t get food, because they’re not on the surface. It’s like how one needs to have money to make money. So the only way Gatherer dungeons survive is by getting lucky and having prey wander in of their own volition, which is why most Gatherer dungeons die on their own. This one is no exception.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The platform finally finishes descending. All around me in the hallway, I can see skeletons, Thorins who were killed by their own protectors. Hundreds of roots have quite clearly pierced them, and must have sucked them dry. However, years of no food have reduced these roots to little more than wispy strings. As I proceed through the hallway, the roots seem to try to stretch out, to consume me like it did them, but they’re too weak. They can barely extend themselves half an inch before collapsing.

Left here, another left here, and here’s the first main challenge. There’s a large chasm in front of me, the result of what looks like a massive tectonic shift. Does this world even have tectonics? Thoughts for later. Now, had I been a high rank Cold Marked like I was thinking about earlier, I could have cleared this chasm no worse for wear. However, I am not a high rank Cold Marked. I am not even a middle rank Cold Marked. I cannot manifest an ice bridge. However, there’s another way. I spend some time examining the ceiling, just to make sure it’s exactly like what I remember. Then I close my eyes and concentrate. The Mark comes to life, whispering in my mind of the beauty of winter. By now, I’ve learned how to shut it out. I push the Mark, and a three foot ice spike appears near the bottom of the chasm.

Damn. I missed.

Delving into my Mark once again, I prod and nudge the ice into the very bottom, near a small rock. Perfect! Now in a couple of seconds-

“Haaaar!”

With a horrifying roar, the chasm is momentarily buffeted by a horrifically violent updraft. Stalactites fall from the ceiling, a couple coming close to me, even. I leap into the wind, letting the wind push me upwards and through a path I know to have no stalactites from my previous observation. When I’m nearing the other end of the cavern, the winds start to get a little shaky, dislodging more stalactites in what I assume to be a last ditch attempt to kill me.

Ha, nope!

The stalactites don’t even come close to me. I arrive at the other end of the chasm just as the winds begin to sputter and die. Within seconds, the wind disappears entirely.

First obstacle, finished!

Even as a horribly weak dungeon, it’s still a dungeon. The chances of me dying in here are far too high for my liking. Even I used to fail speedruns because of one incorrect combo. People everywhere complained about how Avrol was way too hard a game, almost comparable to Dark Souls in difficulty. But then, some casual player discovered a mechanic that changed everything.

Dungeon Exhaustion.

A dungeon only has so much strength. By forcing a dungeon to expend most of its resources on instances where the player has complete control, the chances of dying to unexpected or uncontrolled encounters decreases drastically. It’s like the concept of controlled fires. If one were to carefully burn dead grass in controlled instances, the chances of rogue wildfires decrease dramatically, because the fuel that could have been used in the wildfire is already burned.

The chasm jump wasn’t the path the devs intended. The reason I decided to do this is because the wind I forced the dungeon to summon pretty much wipes any additional strength it could muster out. The chances of randomly created monsters jumping me is much, much lower now. Now, I should be able to clear the dungeon with minimal difficulty. Oh, but before that…

I haven’t had much chance to use my Chosen ability yet. I stimulate the divine power grafted to my soul, expecting the same rush I get from my Mark. However, instead of receiving an onslaught of visions, the Chosen power manifests with no fuss at all. I warm up by pushing it around, gaining and losing about five inches of height at a time.

Alright.

Now it’s time for my real experiment.

I buff up my chest, turning it pink and green. I turn my arms into solid muscle and enlarge it further, making it look comical next to my normal human head. My legs enlarge as well, though I can’t afford to grow them too much - I wouldn’t be able to match the illusion’s movements. Lastly, my head grows, gaining quite a few scars, yellowed teeth, a flat nose, and long, stringy hair. I take out the water bottle in my sack and pour some of it out on the ground, and take a look at my reflection.

I could pass for a stumpy orc, now. I smile and the thing that smiles back is a nightmare to behold.

Perfect.

While I seemingly can’t disguise myself as anything outside of the five inch margins, I have total control over what I look like inside it. That means I could disguise myself as an orc, a goblin, a werewolf, hell, even a demon. My arsenal has expanded significantly.

I could really survive this world.