I spent some hours in Nova gathering new clothes. Mine had been torn apart by this point, and it was nothing short of a miracle that I was not flashing myself wherever I went.

Dark green trousers that could only be described as skinny jeans were now perfectly fitted to my legs. The many pockets and hidden compartments remained mostly unused, although I did make it a point to fulfill my ninja dreams and bought some daggers.

My control over my energy, especially with being able to shape it in non-solid forms, was enough to guarantee that I would not reap my new shirt apart. I was tempted to go for a tunic or a baggy shirt that wouldn’t cling to me.

I then thought of how I had been launching into close combat and taking risky maneuvers, and I quickly discarded it. It was still baggy, but the vest on top made sure to keep it under control.

A short sword stored in a scabbard was interlaced on the vest’s back. I wasn’t planning on using it to fight—mainly because I had as much of an idea about swords as I did about quantum physics. It was only a low-cost attempt to disguise myself.

Finally, once fully equipped, I had someone point me to the stable.

Much to my dismay, even in a magic world, magic had limits. There were no magic horses that instantly got you from one point to another, and I was okay with it. However, apparently, there also wasn’t any skill that let you instantly know how to ride.

Either I couldn’t do horses, or horses couldn’t do me. We just didn’t get along. I tried, more times than I would care to admit, to get on top of one. Either I fell, it kicked me, it refused to move, or it straight up fled from me.

The poor man who was in charge of getting me on top of a horse was sweating from every inch of his skin. I could only wonder what went on inside his mind; he must have been trying to figure out the many ways I could punish him.

I just wanted to die.

I ended up ditching the horse, and, red-faced from sheer shame, I rushed out of the stable. If I couldn’t use a horse, then I would just use my energy. I had thought that just this once, it would have been nice to relax and take some time to think about my progress.

Instead, I took the next best option, the main road that connected both cities. I didn’t just follow it along at my maximum speed; I kept tinkering with my dome and using [Weave] to spread corruption. Thin, finicky, and maybe flaky, but now there was a trail where my dungeon could build from.

Stolen story; please report.

I wasn’t planning to stop right in front of their door, as that would mess up my plans. Instead, I took my time, regularly sleeping, eating, filling my pocket dimension, and experimenting with what [Weave] could do.

Each time I awakened, which didn’t correlate to the sun cycles, I did so in fear of having a message from Yasmin to come back. But it never happened.

There were no dungeons, monsters, or adventures to be seen on my way there. Expectedly, perhaps, given that I was following a route that had until very recently been used by normal people.

It took me a week to see Urdin in the distance, and when I did, I stopped all my experiments and corruption spreading and beelined for it. I did so, hoping and wishing that my change in aspect was enough to keep my identity hidden.

At least the big hole on my chest couldn’t be seen, and that was probably the biggest giveaway and what would be known about me.

Urdin, a city at least twice the size of Nova. Houses raised to the sky like several-story apartments were back on Earth. Disparity and chaos, some were grouped on top of hills, while others seemed to be sunk in depressions on the ground.

Not many people were trying to enter the city. A few merchants, judging by their carriages with goods covered in rags, and the occasional citizen that had gone for a walk or to hunt.

I was already in line in the short queue when I realized I didn’t have any means to identify myself. When I first reached what was now my city, I didn’t end up receiving anything.

Not only that, I had no idea what people saw when they identified me. I advanced on autopilot, trying to convince myself that fighting was not yet the right answer, that I should first see how the events unfolded.

Only if they are not reasonable shou-

“[Divinator] with a hidden first class. Sword related?” The guard at the gate asked me. I nodded. “Business?”

“Passing by, I will stay for a few days in the inn, and then I sh-”

“Entrance fee is 1 Lupil,” he cut me.

I blankly stared at the guard for a moment until a notification popped up.

[Send 1 Lupil (0.01 Lup) to Urdil's Church? Y/N]

I quickly accepted the request and wondered how currencies worked. It was, definitely, ingrained in the System itself. But it was still magic; it had to be, as otherwise I wouldn’t be able to use them.

No one asked for any identification, the guard just stepped aside the moment I accepted and let me walk inside. They must have been quite confident in their power and the fact that they were trainees for the Sanctum, to not even bother doing a minimal background check.

I politely smiled, resisting the urge to let a creepy grin show on my face. A whole army would be useless against me if they just let me wander inside. The whole city was going to be my next dungeon—a high-level training zone created by the very same people who dreamed of making it to the highest ranks of my enemies.

Phase one: explore the city!