What are the chances that everything this dwarf has said was a lie and this is just a plan to kill me? Since it never happened to me before, statistically, the chances are zero, but that's a logical fallacy.

I give Durnar a side eye as I tie a length-of-chain around my waist and tie the end of the length to a sturdy worktable. It's the only thing heavy enough to support my weight besides a random stalagmite...

I tie myself to a sturdy stalagmite instead.

I'm apprehensive about this, but Durnar promised I could keep anything I found. Hopefully, there's something good in that lockbox of his

The entire length looks to be around five thousand feet, which is ludicrously long, in my opinion. It's probably the lengthiest length of material I've ever seen. It's also deceptively light.

I slowly let half the chain drip down the hole so I could use it to climb down. Tieing the chain around my waist wasn't necessary, but safety first.

With my stats, going down is a breeze, but I ran into issues when I ran out of chains. Should I keep going, or should I go back up and tell Durnar that all that chain he gave me wasn't enough?

Fuck it. I didn't see another chain or length of material in the area, so either I keep going or give up on any possible material reward. I feel like Durnar was trolling me. Since if he knew something this deep was broken, why didn't he give me a long enough chain?

I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. I'll assume he didn't see the damage himself and knows something is wrong some other way.

This is where Vanderblitz forged such a great item that he beat a god in competition and ascended. If even the scrap of an object he crafted is down here, it would be worth it.

I untie the chains around my waist and prepare to continue without any protection.

I use my back and legs to support myself as I slowly make my way down. The walls are as smooth as obsidian and as dark as it too. Luckily, the well-sized hole is large enough that I can use this method to continue downwards.

Carefully and deliberately, I move little by little. I don't want to slip and fall. I'm not worried about fall damage, but having the option to bail at any moment is something I want, and free falling limits my options.

If this takes longer than twenty minutes, I'm cutting my losses and heading back up. Testing my resistance against the forces of a volcano is something that would probably kill me.

Thankfully, after ten minutes of shuffling my way down the hole, I reach a bottom chamber that's only ten feet from wall to wall. The ground is cracked and mushy, like a layer of solidified ash floating on molten rock.

The walls are made of the same weird obsidian-like metal the hole was coated with. Three identical arcane circles have been carved into the walls, forming a triangle with the hole in the middle.

It's getting hard to breath down here. I thought this wooziness was just the drugs. I guess not much air gets down here. Do I even need air if I'm halfway into the spirit realm? Am I halfway? Durnar didn't actually elaborate on that part.

I carefully drop-down, testing the floor to see if I can support my weight, and lucky me, it can. I should've asked Durnar for his shoe to have a complete pair.

The heat is constantly burning me, but for now, I'm regenerating just as fast as it's killing me. My feet sink a few inches into the ground.

I noticed the damage immediately that Durnar mentioned earlier. A minor crack was formed on one of the arcane circles, breaking the symmetry.

I test the waters and only use a small amount of mana with [Heal Anything], and nothing happens. I figured this would happen. I drink some water out of the manaorgan and wipe my brow.

It's definitely getting hotter. I dumped half my mana into healing the crack, and only the metal was repaired. Not the actual circle.

I use [Broken Blood] and burn all my mana and the new one I gain just to heal this stubborn circle. I abuse my skills to wring the most mana out of my body.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

[Broken Blood

Mana is the blood of life; it is in all things. The user may convert Health to Mana by breaking open their blood. It may cause fatigue and heart failure if used excessively.

Cooldown: 1 hour

Conversion: 1 - 2.5]

[Heal Anything U lv1

You can spend mana to heal any target

Mana to Health conversion 1-5]

I can do an exploit by using a portion of the mana I get from breaking my blood to heal myself so I can break more blood.

[Broken Blood] has a cool down, but if I heal myself as I convert mana, I can game the system and cause an infinite loop at the expense of my body.

Hopefully, I don't need to go too far...

I use just under my max health total, spending around 3600 to almost 9000 mana, then using roughly 720 points of mana to heal me back up to full, repeating the process.

[Resistance: Exhaustion 21 > 50]

What the fuck! After two rounds of this exploit, my body almost gives up. My vision went black, and I couldn't feel my limbs. The only reason I didn't faceplant into the scorching floor was the wall was in the way.

I vomited black blood all over the floor, and it sizzled as soon as it left my body. Luckily for me, only around 15000 points of healing were needed to repair this minor break in the arcane circle.

Too bad I can't celebrate just yet. Blood is coming out of my eyes and drying instantly. Not much blood came out, just a burst like a spritz of pepper spray. I can almost feel my body become weaker like my flesh has been consumed.

My clothes are slightly looser than they were before. I think I just shed a few pounds in the most unhealthy way possible.

At least the circle is fixed.

It feels like millions of pins and needles are accosting my body at the same time. I touch my face, and it feels gaunt. Tuffs of my patchy beard fall out from the movement.

My body should be more resistant to exhaustion, but I still feel like shit. Now let's find this lockbox before I get consumed by magma.

The floor is a few feet of ash and soot on top of molten rock and metal. I squat down and stick my hands in the scorching ash, trying to find anything.

My actions kick up a lot of the volcanic ash. I hope my resistances are enough to ward off black lung.

I finally found the damn thing a few feet deep. It's heavy.

It looks like it was made from sheet metal and haphazardly welded together. I doubt that's the case since it could survive the heat of a volcano for who knows how long.

It's the size of a footlocker, but it has no lock. I try opening it, and nothing happens. It must be magic or actually welded together.

[Sealed Lockbox]

Definitely is. At least it has a handle.

When I lifted the box onto my shoulder, something caught my eye deep in the magma. Something glistening.

I don't know if it was just the narcotics playing with my eyes again, or maybe it was just a piece of scrap that fell down here. I only saw it for less than a second, and I couldn't get a good look at it.

Should I?

I smack my lips and think for a second before dropping the foot locker and crouching over the hole, trying to fish out whatever I saw. Whatever it was 'sank' into the magma.

Even though it's molten, it still has the consistency of molasses. I wonder if Vanderbliz made an intern traverse into a volcano and created this structure in it or if this is what he did to tame a volcano.

I flip a coin mentally before plunging my arm into the magma, trying to grasp the shiny object I saw. I still have leftover mana for repairs. I take off the ring on my finger... Then I take out the live rounds I have in my arm.

I obviously stuck my prosthetic arm into the magma since what happened the last time I stuck my arm where it didn't belong? I lost it.

I hope whatever I saw exists, and I'm not doing this for something that only exists for the consumption of some cactus.

FUCK! IT HURTS!

The blood flowing in my prosthetic arm boils as it flows into the rest of my body. I grasp a sphere-shaped object before ripping my hand out. Beyond the 'skin' of the magma, the molten rock gets incredibly hotter.

[Resistance: Fire 400 > 401]

[Resistance: Fire 401 > 450]

My hand comes out warped, and the joints are melding together. My fingers are almost fused to an apple-sized ball with a spiraling pattern. It's perfectly round and made of metal. It seems familiar, but I can't place why or how.

It's not as hot as I expected it to be.

I pry my fingers off the thing and pocket it before grabbing the chest with my fucked up hand and trying to climb back up.

I jump ten feet up to the hole and use my legs to support myself with a split kick. I'm not trained in gymnastics and can pull stunts like these with just stats alone. It makes me think about the feats trained athletes and warriors can do and if I'm just fumbling through life being carried by my resistance and healing.

Either I should double down on the self-harm or invest in actually training.

I move to a sitting position and scootch myself up until I reach the chain, still dangling. I tie the lock box to the chain before using the chain to climb up as fast as possible.

Wait, does the chain exists as well? How does tieing a spirit object to a real one work? I'll stop asking questions if I don't have to traverse back down. I healed my digits to climb with two hands instead of one.

I crest over the top, covered in blood, sweat, and dust. My gi, dyed with black blood, is now stained with black volcanic ash and blood.

"Ellis! I can already tell whatever you did down there worked! Damn, look at you, boy! You look as haggard as a corpse! Who's the undead now!"

"..."

"By the way, where's my box?"

Since I was on the floor while he was poking fun at me, I brought myself to my feet and pointed at the chain. I find a random stool and sit on it. It's surprisingly comfy.

Durnar grumbles and goes over to the chain and starts pulling it up. Eventually, he starts whistling a cheery tune while I clean myself.

"Boy, come over and look at the fruit of your labor!"

I mosy on over and notice an augmented stream of lava emerge from the hole and fill the heart of the forge. I wonder how this forge works. The molten rock is glowing, not just from the heat but from some enchantment.

There's a strange beauty in the polychromatic lava, filling channels I didn't notice before. It almost breathes a new life into the room.

"Why are you looking over there, lad? I mean this!"

At Durnar's feet is an open chest filled with bottles of alcohol. I only see alcohol.

"..."