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Experimental Dungeon Novel
Oh right, the point

Oh right, the point

Avery realized what she had forgotten. After climbing all the way up to this cave, covering the entrance, and getting as set up for the ritual as she could without using any of her limited amount of mana lighting up the area before she actually started with the thing, she had forgotten to bring something to steal the body from. Now she was going to have to go all the way back down, and all the way back up, luring a slime the whole way.

At least that was easier than carrying things up and down the rock face, though she did so swearing under her breath the whole time at the god of light, bane of necromancers everywhere. It was getting close to the point where people would be free from their daily obligations, and those with any desire to become an adventurer would inexorably be drawn to the pit of slime, where they could easily build their experience fighting weak monsters, and collect some smattering of coins from the burst gelsacks. It was also time for the presence in the cave, the one that didn’t register to detect life, to sneak off higher, out of the canyon’s embrace.

A few minutes later, Avery was back in front of the cave, having slowly walked away from a slime as it attempted to catch and eat her. The trick to keeping a monster interested was to go a bit closer and hit it any time it decided one wasn’t worth the effort. From the smallest slime to the largest dragon, almost no creature would ignore something attacking it. Getting it to get through a small gap between a blanket and a rock face was a bit more trouble. The creature would keep getting distracted by the potentially edible material, and ignore Avery as it tried to eat the fabric. Eventually, she lured it into the cave by prodding it with her candle. Being composed mainly of oil and fat, the stick was practically a delicacy to the puddle of jelly.

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With that taken care of, the slime happily absorbing her candle off to the side, Avery sat down to begin casting the spell directly from the book. This was one of the main advantages wizards had over those who took an easy path to near unlimited power; a mage could take time and understanding, and multiply them together to create something more powerful than just themselves. Out in the field, where combat took place and monsters would rip one to shreds if you gave them ten seconds, a mage was limited by what spells they had completely memorized and their current mana. Safe and alone, they could draw power from their secreted sources, and carefully apply them into the formulas needed to bring forth effects that would astound others four times as powerful.

Power, in this case, being an approximate sum of all their combat capabilities. A wizard could bring forth destruction, but if some guy with a sword came up while they weren’t paying attention, they would lose their head in short order, in both interpretations of the phrase. Additionally, in general said person with sword would be able and willing to continue fighting slimes, or what have you, far after the wizard has exhausted themself of mana and is rendered somewhat less dangerous than a wet floor. While people might guess that people who study for, or in, the tower are aloof because of their arrogance, mages try not to participate in combat because they run out of magic and turn into pumpkins.

If this was successful, Avery would have solved that problem. The technique would have its weaknesses of course, the limited range, the need to contain a useful creature to use its body, the potential of the container for the wizard’s soul being shattered during combat, but it had potential. Potential was all the idea needed for her to get a foothold into the tower, and maybe a research grant.

With this in mind, the ritual started.