Miranda leaned back in her chair and looked down at the unassuming silver necklace resting upon a velvet cushion. She had just finished crafting the delicate thing, and even now she couldn’t help but give it one last polish before lifting it and locking it around her throat.
The clasp clicked with grim finality, but Miranda’s expression relaxed as if a great weight had just been lifted.
“What do you want, Mom?”
“Ahh, Gellamine,” Miranda said as she turned to greet her daughter who stood at the doorway with a stubborn frown. “It's good that you finally came. I’ve been meaning to speak with you for a while.”
“Yup, I’m listening,” Gella said and crossed her arms.
“Come, walk with this old lady,” Miranda said as she suppressed a smile and brushed past her daughter. “I’ve been meaning to visit that mural on the mountainside for some time now. It depicted you so heroically, did it not? You do remember how to get there, right Gellamine?”
“Uh, yeah. Of course I do,” Gella said, jogging to catch up. “Wait. Don’t you know that we can’t go there anymore? The dungeon’s gotten too high level and the mural is smack dab in the middle of its territory.”
“Oh, never mind that,” Miranda waved her off with a secretive smile. “Come! Tell me about your friends. It feels like forever since we’ve spoken at length. How about that boyfriend of yours, hmm?”
“He’s not...” Gella blushed, then sighed and looked away. “Never mind. Kellar is doing well. It’s tough losing both hands, but Christina says that she might be able to get him new ones once the dungeon recovers.”
They momentarily fell silent as they passed through a busy section of town. The earthquakes had stopped, but trees were still the preferred residency. The inflated population, however, made it difficult to house everyone, so naturally, some unseemly homes had been erected on the side of the road.
“What does dear Kellar say about the immigrants?” Miranda said once they had passed the densest crowds. “I recall he was rather unenthused by those who hadn’t experienced what he had.”
“Ha! Well,” Gella rubbed the back of her head. “Kellar relaxed a bit since then. He’s still him, but after the injury, he’s stopped fighting to keep the non-slaves out these days.”
The two continued speaking as they approached the edge of town. There they found numerous small groups, mostly composed of older children and young adults slaying the plethora of weak monsters that had spawned as of recently. The monsters were so weak as to be harmless, and the children seemed to enjoy the tedious task.
As weak as the monsters were, there was still some parental supervision. In this case, it took the form of Captain Arcturus calmly speaking with an older gentleman who bore a striking resemblance to him. The pair gave Miranda and Gella curt nods as they passed, before returning their attention to the playing kids.
In no time at all, they came upon the great arch that was the only way out of the dungeon floor. Standing still and silent before the great arch was a glass titan. It loomed over them menacingly as bottled lightning danced through its transparent body. The pair hesitated only momentarily before stepping between the titan’s legs and into the land beyond.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that monster guarding the gate,” Gella muttered, glancing back. “It doesn’t even make sense. Shouldn’t it be up in the flying castle with the rest of its kin?”
“Mhmm,” Miranda hummed noncommittally, as the pair paused before a giant fallen tree that blocked the path. “Perhaps it has unlocked its true calling after witnessing the great battle.”
Gella shrugged, then blurred as a skill took her up and over the fallen giant.
“You coming?” She called over the trunk.
“I think I’ll walk around this time,” Miranda called back, stepping off the trail to do just that.
“Mom...What are you doing?” Gella huffed in exasperation after ten minutes of watching her mother shuffle slowly through the underbrush.
Eventually, however, Miranda found an avenue and they returned to the main path.
“Seriously, mom. Why didn’t you just teleport over?”
“Ahh,” Miranda smiled wistfully up at the canopy. “That is a long story.”
Gella narrowed her eyes, but then shook her head and sighed. Resigning herself to an unsolicited monologue.
“When we first arrived at this dungeon it really was something else. A blossoming verdant forest popping out of nowhere that simply oozed mystery. It elevated your tier, not once, but all the way up to the fifth tier eventually. Amazing that you truly connected with the intelligence of this place so strongly and so early isn’t it,” Miranda chuckled. “For me, it took a little while longer, didn’t it? Do you recall when I was preparing to sacrifice those slaves to appease the dungeon?
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“Vividly,” Gella muttered, a trace of bitterness leaking into her tone.
“Oh don’t give me that look, Gellamine. You and your boyfriend are far too squeamish for your own good. It is a wonder that you managed to free any slaves, let alone all of them.” Miranda sniffed and straightened her coat. “As I was saying, the ritual didn’t go the way I planned, and you and that Guard girl you befriended certainly didn’t make it easy for me. How is she by the way? I don’t think I know what she is up to these days.”
“She spends her time in her cottage,” Gella replied. She had acquired a bored cast some time through the conversation. As if she had lost the will to argue with her mother over every little question. “We’re worried for her. Her family immigrated, but she still spends most of her time there, and none of us can visit her while she is so deep in the dungeon.”
“Oh, that’s unfortunate. Perhaps we can swing by on the way back from the mural to say hello.”
Gella sighed again at that and they continued walking. After a couple of minutes, they reached the boundary between the livable floor and the Deep Dungeon. Gella stopped at the barrier, but when her mother made no indication of joining her, she reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder.
“Mom, what? Stop! There are tier 14 dungeon flows past this point. Are you trying to kill yourself?!”
“Oh shoo,” Miranda waved off Gella’s restraining hand and stepped across the barrier. Nothing untoward happened despite the massive difference in tier. In fact, after Miranda had taken several steps into the dungeon, she turned around and threw Gella a cheeky grin. “You coming?”
“You know I can’t.” Gella glared at her mom for several long moments, before she crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you going to explain how’d you do that?”
“I am, child. If you’d let me finish,” Miranda said, still smiling, before she acquiesced and stepped closer to Gella. “But, fine. Come here, dear. Give me your hand.”
Miranda gently took her daughter's hand and closed her eyes. Several long moments passed where Gella wondered what the hell was happening. Suddenly, a blue pulse erupted from Miranda’s chest and washed over Gella like a cool breeze. It sunk into her clothes and settled somewhere behind her sternum with an electric tingle that made goosebumps rise all across Gella’s arms.
“What skill was that?” Gella asked, examining herself and shooting Miranda inquisitive glances.
“Patience child. Now. Where was I?” Miranda smiled, turning back to the path and leading her befuddled daughter into the forbidden area.
“It was a dark time for me. All my friends vanished in the night, and I was getting daily letters from the Order requesting status updates. I must admit, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so hopeless. Then, out of the blue, I experienced a rather enlightening conversation with a certain emancipated slave you spend much of your time with.”
“Mom, Kellar isn’t my boyfriend,” Gella whined, not particularly expecting Miranda to listen.
“Oh, I know dear,” Miranda’s expression turned serious, to Gella’s surprise. “Kellar said many things, but he spoke at length about the Goddess’ Gifts. How each and every one of us received something from the goddess, regardless of whether or not we think we have. It was utterly preposterous of course. Pointless religious aphorisms with no place in educated conversations.”
“Yeah, so? What’s your point mom?”
“Well, after the conversation I spent some time thinking. Nothing so ideologically powerful is entirely devoid of truth. No matter how vapid it may initially appear. If Kellar and so many others were so convinced that this new Goddess gave them a gift, perhaps it was possible that She gave me—Ahh! You look absolutely stunning carved in stone, my dear.”
Gella blinked, realizing that they had arrived at the great mural. It always made her slightly uncomfortable to see a twenty-foot-tall version of herself, and she quickly looked away.
“Mooomm...” Gella badgered, seriously considering giving her mother a solid poke in the side if it got her to get to the point faster.
“Hmm? Ah yes. If what Kellar said is to be believed, then I should have already possessed all I needed to push past the Tyranny of Rank.” Miranda said, fingering her silver necklace. “I tried everything. My books failed me, and so did my skills. Eventually, in a fit of frustration, I decided to toss aside my skills and levels to see if perhaps in that I could find a solution.”
“You didn’t!” Gella gasped.
“I did,” Miranda confirmed, holding up her silver necklace that gleamed cruelly in the afternoon light. “I am nothing if not thorough. If nothing mundane would work, then I was not so biased as to dismiss slave collars out of hand.”
“And?” Gella asked with bated breath.
“It worked,” Miranda smiled. “Levels have no power over me any longer.”
She raised her right hand and rotated it. As she did, gentle tongues of flame licked up the side of her hand as if overjoyed at her touch. Then lightning arced across the surface of her skin, followed by a half dozen other minor elemental effects.
“Is that...”
“Unstructured Mana Shaping,” Miranda said. “Indeed. It is just as powerful and diverse as the legends from long past would have us believe.”
“Wow,” Gella said, entranced by Miranda’s performance. A minute later, Miranda lowered her hand and turned to face her daughter.
“Gella my dear,” she said, a deep regret darkening her expression. “Would you... Would you like to learn?”
Gella paused, unsure. Then she smiled and stepped up to take her mother's hand. "Sure! Sounds like a blast."
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Far above the conversing pair, within the branches of a long-dead giant, a small black-robed creature observed. It was tiny, no more than two feet in height and starkly resembled a small flightless bird that had never before existed within this realm. Indeed, this creature was a penguin, though not just any penguin.
< Anon lv. 1 >
Glowing green letters floated above the penguin's head as it looked through a pair of wooden binoculars. After a moment more of spying on the two humans, it lowered the binoculars and they transformed into a crude toy sword made of wood. Despite lacking both hands and opposable thumbs, the penguin held the sword easily.
“They’ll be fine,” the penguin murmured, nodding to itself.
It turned on the branch and idly patted the dead — but standing — tree. It lifted the wooden sword and slashed forward. The sword tore through the fabric of reality, and a starlit portal opened before it. The penguin fiddled with its sword and scrutinized the portal for a second, then with a huff, it hopped through.
The portal snapped closed with no one the wiser.