Avince sat on the side of his bed, surrounded by the silence of his room. His parents and sister had finally left, giving him the space they thought he needed to rest, but rest was the last thing on his mind. His body ached with exhaustion, but his thoughts were racing, replaying every moment of his most recent dungeon excursion.

He could still feel the tension from the fight, the sound of the orc’s war cries ringing in his ears. The image of that C-rank boss, towering over him, playing with him like a toy, was burned into his mind. The sheer power disparity was undeniable. He had thought he’d grown stronger, that the mana-enhancing fruit had pushed him to a new level. But facing that named orc boss had brought a harsh dose of reality.

“Too weak,” he muttered to himself. "I was barely hanging on."

Sure, he had escaped, but only just. And what had he really gained? He closed his eyes and sank deeper into his thoughts. The thrill of victory against smaller orc parties felt hollow now, overshadowed by the brutal truth of how close he had come to failure. If he hadn’t been careful, if he had made one wrong move, the orc boss would’ve ended him.

Avince rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of his vulnerability. For all his potential, for all the mysterious power his awakening had granted him, he wasn’t invincible. Very far from it.

He needed to be smarter, more strategic. Recklessness would get him killed.

Opening his eyes, he reached for his ability, sensing the items within his storage space. He looked at what he managed to collect from the dungeon. A pair of dull, unattuned cores rolled onto his hand, their faint glow a reminder of the countless orcs he had fought. If he hadn’t used so many of these to replenish his mana reserves, he would’ve had more.

"Two cores… maybe a thousand Alliance credits each," he muttered under his breath. The unattuned cores weren’t rare, not like elemental cores, but they were useful enough to fetch a decent price. It could’ve been more, though. He sighed. The price he paid for survival.

His hand brushed against the two large orc axes and the crude club lying next to him. Useless, oversized junk. He had stopped collecting them after realizing just how poorly made and impractical they were. No human could wield them without serious enhancements. Even with his growing strength, the axes were far too heavy to be of any use to him.

“Dead weight,” he scoffed, pushing the weapons aside. Next time, he’d focus on collecting only what truly mattered. He couldn’t afford to waste time or effort on things he couldn’t use.

His mind drifted back to the orc dungeon. He had been too focused on surviving to even think about one of the dungeon's most valuable treasures—the flower of flesh and blood. His eyes narrowed in frustration as he remembered.

“Damn,” he whispered. “I was so caught up in trying to escape that I didn’t even look for any.”

The flower of flesh and blood was a rare plant that grew in war-torn battlefields, feeding on the blood of the fallen. Blood mages and those with body-enhancing abilities prized it for its regenerative properties. It wasn’t something he could use that well, not with his own abilities, but its value on the market was undeniable. He could’ve sold it for a small fortune.

And he had missed the chance. He then laments about how his ability didn’t really help him locating rare materials or items and only gave him a rough idea and outline about the dungeon.

He shook his head, annoyed with himself. The two cores he’d managed to snag were nothing compared to what he could’ve earned with just one of those flowers.

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But then again, what good would money have been to him if he had died in the dungeon? He needed to be more careful. Not just in his fights, but in how he handled everything—his planning, his mana management, his ability use. Every decision mattered.

His mind wandered back to the flower of flesh and blood, used by blood mages. That particular magic, blood magic, was rare and controversial. Blood mages could manipulate life itself through blood, and though it was a tier 2 magic like his lightning magic, it was still vastly different in its applications. Avince currently knows nothing of how to use such magic nor does he think he wants to learn how to as blood magic is usually involved with curses and sacrifice, but he couldn’t deny its power. As he thought about the complexity of blood magic, his thoughts drifted to even more elusive abilities—tier 3 magics like life and death. Those were on a completely different level, nearly impossible to learn unless one's ability directly allowed it.

He thought of Erica and her father, Jerome. Their healing abilities, their natural proficiency in manipulating life energy… in some ways, it was similar to blood magic, but far more powerful. Healing could save lives,same as blood magic but blood magic can also be used to destroy them, like death magic. It is undeniable that life and death are clearly the superior in healing and taking lives, while blood magic seems like a weaker combination of the two.

Avince let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. It was probably a good thing he hadn’t found any of those flowers. What use would they be to him, anyway? Money? Pfft, imagine how hard it would be to explain how he got them.

He stared at the cores again. Two cores from a handful of orcs. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t much, but at least he can use them right?.It was also a small step forward. He needed to keep pushing, but he also needed to be smarter about it. The dungeon had given him valuable experience, but it had nearly taken everything from him.

“What’s next?” he asked himself, thinking carefully.

The first thing that came to mind was the mana-enhancing fruit. That fruit had immensely increased his mana output and capacity, making him feel more powerful than ever before. But getting hold of another one would be a problem. The forest guardians that guarded the fruit were far too strong for him right now. He had barely escaped from that dungeon the last time. Another attempt could cost him his life.

“No,” he said firmly. “That’s not an option right now.”

He needed to take things slow, be more methodical. Rushing in blindly wouldn’t help him grow stronger—it would just get him killed. There had to be other ways, safer ways, to increase his power. His mind wandered to the concept of mana tempering, a process that could slowly increase one’s mana reserves and control. Some dungeons were said to contain areas specifically designed for that purpose—rare, but not impossible to find.

And for Avince, finding such a dungeon wasn’t an issue. His ability gave him access to dungeons beyond normal means. He could nudge the direction of his dungeon creations, pushing for a tempering dungeon if he needed one.

It was an option. Maybe even his best option right now.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he thought about it. For once, he didn’t have to rush. He had an ability that could give him nearly unlimited opportunities—if he used it right.

“I’ll focus on tempering my mana,” he decided quietly. “Take it slow, build up my strength.”

He would find a dungeon that could help him temper his mana, increase his capacity, and refine his control. There was no need to charge headfirst into danger when he could grow at his own pace.

A sense of calm washed over him as he finalized his plan. This was the smart move. There was no need to be afraid of falling behind—his ability was too strong, too unique. With careful planning and patience, he would grow into his power. He just needed to be strategic about it.

As Avince kept on thinking about his future plans, there was one thing he could ignore no longer.

The fatigue hit him like a tidal wave, the exhaustion from the dungeon finally catching up with him. His muscles ached, his mind was foggy, and even though his mana reserves had been somewhat replenished, he still felt drained.

Avince let out a slow, tired breath as he laid back on his bed, sinking into the mattress. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of what lay ahead. He had a plan now, a clear path forward.

But for now, he needed rest.

As his eyes fluttered shut and sleep pulled him under, his last thought was simple: I’ll be ready next time.