That little revelation silenced everyone all over again. Not that Rieren could blame any of them. She was taken aback by Kervantes’s suggestion too. But the important thing was that they didn’t have room to argue or negotiate. The Sect Leader was dying, was nearly dead at this point, and there was only one way to save him.

“How would this be any different than a true death?” Silk asked from the back of their little group. “All his soul would be doing is shifting from the body of a human to embodying this entire dungeon, wouldn’t it?”

“He would be contained within the dungeon, yes,” Kervantes said. “However, he would attain powers that he would never have in his previous life. Powers that you may be able to use to rebuild your fallen Sect quite rapidly indeed.”

Most of them understood what the Ceramic Automaton meant. Dungeon Cores had powers that couldn’t easily be reached via cultivation, or even with the system. For instance, most of them never reach a point in strength where they would be able to open and close Abyss Rents at will. That would require cultivating corrupted Essence for a great deal of time.

In similar fashion, Dungeon Cores had certain other powers that were difficult to come by. One such ability was the skill to absorb any object or material brought into the dungeon and then recreate its own version of it. Another was the expansion of its Domain—for what was a dungeon if not the Domain of a Dungeon Core—and the production of its own guardians.

Powers like those really could come in handy if they chose to remain here and rebuild the Sect. But that didn’t mean there were no potential drawbacks or pitfalls.

“Will he even be the Sect Leader anymore?” Elder Veylie asked. “After turning into a Dungeon Core?”

Elder Alm popped up with his own question, though his attention was still mostly focused on the dying Sect Leader. “And why are you even offering us such a thing? What do you and your current Dungeon Core have to gain from this?”

“We hope to achieve our dreams.”

“Your… dreams? By taking over the Sect Leader’s body?”

“Yes. Our dreams. If you are interested to know, we simply seek a means to take a step out of our bounds within the dungeon.” Kervantes paused, as though he was attempting to figure out how best he could explain himself. “It is rather tiring to be stuck in one place for so long. No matter who you are, human, monster, or a mere dungeon guardian, being trapped is terrible.”

“Yet, instead of taking a step outside as you are, you would trap everyone else in here with you?”

The Ceramic Automaton was a little distant from Rieren, but even then, she could hear the gears whirring in his mechanical body faster than before. He was getting a little agitated.

“We believe having one of you as a host will allow the Dungeon Core to expand its reach,” he said. “It is the only way we can get out of this dungeon, if for even a little while.”

Rieren couldn’t call herself an expert in matters regarding dungeons and their Cores. All she knew was that it was better to trust the words of a dungeon guardian in such cases, so long as those words were about the dungeon itself.

“I still remain uncertain,” Elder Veylie muttered. “You never answered my question, automaton.”

“Ah, of course.” Kervantes sounded sincerely regretful, as though it wasn’t Elder Alm’s fault for sidetracking Ceramic Automaton with his own question coming in too quick after Elder Veylie’s. “The truth is that it is unlikely he will be the same man you once knew.”

“As I had feared.”

“Since the new Core will be a mixture of the current one and the new host’s soul, it will still have much of what made your Sect Leader who he was in his previous life. But it will also likely be that the combination produces an entirely new personality with its own goals and motivations. It would still be a matter of trust, of course.”

“A matter of trust?”

“Yes. We must trust that the resulting amalgamation will hold the desired qualities of both constituent beings. That the new Dungeon Core will be able to grant both of us what we desire, even if it takes a little time to do so.”

Rieren looked down at the Sect Leader. There was barely any sign of life in him. She had thought that, ultimately, they ought to have asked him. But that wasn’t possible in his state.

Unless…

Rieren looked to the walls of the large chamber, where Serace’s roots had dug through. They had arrived close enough that Nerve Rods were where the Abyss Rents would have been had Serace not destroyed them.

She pointed to one such rod. The motion made her wince. Not only did she have a terrible headache, she was also being forced to endure dizziness. “We can use those to communicate with the Elder.”

Elder Veylie considered for a moment, then went over and pulled out the nearest Nerve Rod. “I have been seeing these pop up everywhere… Will it truly work on the Sect Leader?”

“He is not yet dead. So long as his soul remains to some degree within his body, the Nerve Rod will work.”

Elder Alm grunted. “You can find something like this but not something that can heal him back to his full condition?”

“I am afraid something that could properly heal the Sect Leader would need far more Credits than I possess.”

A shame, really. Rieren hadn’t even received an achievement for killing the Gravemark Puppeteer, much less its powerful beast Core. It was worrying, in truth.

“Such is how it goes…” Elder Alm muttered. He caught the other Elder attempting to insert the spike into the Sect Leader’s shoulder. “What are you doing? Are we going to ask him his wishes directly, then? We have no guarantee this thing will even work.”

“It is the only solution we have left,” Elder Veylie said. “I would rather hear from Solmir directly about what he would wish upon himself.”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The Elder had no trouble inserting the Nerve Rod correctly. She must have read the item’s description in the system. Once it was properly in place, they had to wait. It needed a little bit of time to activate.

Elder Veylie cleared her throat, the little noise making them all straighten. It was time to see if they could really contact the Sect Leader, despite his current condition.

“Sect Leader Solmir,” Elder Veylie said in a grave voice, holding onto the Nerve Rod tightly. “Can you hear us?”

“We will not be able to hear him.” Rieren paused. “Unless we attach this.”

She used most of the remainder of her Credits to find a small item. The Thought Speaker was generally another vanity item. All it did was speak out loud any thoughts within something, which comedically worked even for thoughtless cases such as rocks and streams.

Since the Nerve Rod was a mental connection, the thoughts passing through it could be broadcasted by the Thought Speaker.

Elder Veylie looked at the little dome of hardened rock with some skepticism, but she placed it on the end of the Nerve Rod either. Then they all jumped when Solmir’s voice rang out.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, of course, I can hear you. I also cannot believe it took you that long to find a way to get in touch with me. I would say shame upon you all if I wasn’t kind enough to consider that you are all devastated by your impending loss.”

Rieren blinked. If she was surprised, most of the others were shocked too. The Sect Leader sounded… far from dead. In fact, he sounded angry. Alive. Though, his body hadn’t magically started healing itself. He was still dying, regardless of how he sounded about it.

“Sect Leader, I—” Elder Veylie stuttered, unsure of how to go on. “We were thinking—how are you—” She paused, collecting herself and her seriousness. “We need your guidance, Solmir. Much has happened. I do not know how much you are aware of, but we are in a bit of a precarious position here, despite our victory.”

“I know all that has gone on,” the Sect Leader said. “I am aware of your victory against the Abyssals. Proud of it too. I am also glad that the Lionshard mountain has been mostly purged of the Abyssals’ influence. But now, you are wondering what to do about my passing, yes?”

It was rather bizarre to be talking to someone who was about to die so objectively about their own death. Especially considering that someone was a cultivator. Short as mortal lives tended to be, their deaths were of great importance because of all the memories and experiences they had accumulated over the course of their decades.

But here, Solmir was treating his death like just another day of running the Sect.

“The Ceramic Automaton says that it has a way of ensuring your survival,” Elder Veylie said with some reluctance. “Though, there is a catch…”

“I care not. I accept.”

The Elder blinked. Rieren felt much the same impulse.

Elder Alm cleared his throat. “Solmir, you haven’t even heard of what this offer even is.”

“Yes,” the Sect Leader said. “I care not. If the Ceramic Automaton wants to chop me into several pieces and keep my brain stored in a jar, all to ensure that I live, then I would still accept its offer. Believe me, old friend, there are a great many things worth living for, even if your life would not be anywhere near the same as before.”

Kervantes bustled in before anyone could argue that statement. “With that cleared up, I believe we may begin.”

He didn’t wait for the Elders to move out of the way. Instead, a hatch on his chest opened outwards, the same hatch that had revealed the strange tea inside the first time they had met in this timeline. What lay within had to be the Dungeon Core.

It was a glowing orb too bright to look at directly. Rieren wished she had retained the powers of her form from the memory. Bright lights didn’t pose her as much trouble then. Especially when she wasn’t dealing with a headache exacerbated by bright lights.

Beside Solmir, the Elders had only moved just enough to grant the automaton the tiny bit of space he needed to perform whatever it was he intended. They wished to remain close by in case something went wrong and they could act quickly.

The little ritual Kervantes performed was quite odd. He lowered the orb over the Sect Leader’s chest, keeping it a few fingerbreadths above his robes. Then he crushed it.

Power flowed outwards from the spot where the glowing orb had been destroyed. An enormous amount of Essence flowed out. For just a second, Rieren felt temptation sway within her, soft and slippery to the grip. All that Essence. If she could take in even a small amount—

She shuttered the thoughts out of her head and paid attention to what was actually occurring before her. The Essence was now whirling in a tornado of light and power around the Sect Leader. Its intensity was such that even regular eyes had no trouble seeing it.

Everyone else had taken several steps backwards. Not just the Elders, Kervantes as well. They let the glowing blue Essence do its job.

“Hold on,” the automaton said. “I will return shortly.”

Before they could ask where he was heading, he ran off. At least he was fast. Kervantes dashed to where Rieren had brought down the gigantic Ceramic Automatons who had been attacking the invaders from a distance. Before long, he had lugged back all three of their enormous staffs as though they weighed little more than sticks despite being several times his size.

“What do you need those for?” Rieren asked.

“For the anchoring,” Kervantes said.

Like the Dungeon Core itself, he crushed the large ceramic staffs too. From within, he pulled out familiar metallic tubes. Recognition hit Rieren. Not tubes, rods. More Nerve Rods.

Without warning, Kervantes plunged three of the rods into the circle of blinding Essence. Thankfully, no one reacted and botched Kervantes’s ritual. While it was impossible to see through all that light, those rods had surely pierced deep into the Sect Leader’s chest, unlike the one Elder Veylie had used upon his shoulder.

The light started decreasing. If Rieren was seeing things correctly, they were all coalescing onto the rods, turning them into blinding spears of light ejecting out of Solmir’s body.

A body that started to rise.

The surprising motion made them all take another step backwards.

Solmir—or what had once been Solmir’s body, at least—now rose to its feet. Its eyes were glowing pits as well. That Nerve Rod the Elder had stuck upon his shoulder fell to the ground. Rieren frowned at the rest. She had noticed they were moving, inserting themselves deeper into the Sect Leader’s body, but they weren’t disappearing inside him.

No, they were piercing through to the other side, emerging so that both sides of body had equal amounts of solid light sticking out of it.

“Honoured Sect Leader,” Elder Veylie said with some care. “Can you hear us?”

The Sect Leader, if it was even him in there, didn’t immediately reply. There was none of the urgency they had heard when they had spoken to him directly. Instead, he looked over and around them all. He took in everything, from the disciples and the guards remaining in the dungeon, to the chamber they were in and its shattered state.

“It would seem,” he said, voice a strange mixture of two different ones. “That there is much we must do.”

Before the Elders could formulate a proper reply to that, Kervantes knelt next to former Sect Leader’s feet. “We are at your service, my Core.”

Solmir’s body smiled down at the Ceramic Automaton. “As I am at yours.”

“Alright, enough of this vagueness.” Essalina had stepped forward again, fury building upon her brow again. Her motion had made the tension spike in the room again. “What even are you? A Sect Leader? A Dungeon Core? What do you even intend to do?”

Solmir’s body considered her for a moment. Again, there was no immediate reply. But then, the tiniest of smiles made his lips quirk upwards. “Perhaps a name would help?”

Essalina was taken a little aback by the answer. “That does not answer my question.”

“Regardless, you may still call me Solmir.” He raised his arms out wide. “I am who I used to be, but I am much more as well. I am both Solmir the Sect Leader and the Dungeon Core of Lionshard Dungeon.”

“Impossible,” Kervantes, said, interjecting in the Sect Leader’s speech. “The Core used to hate that name.”

Solmir laughed at that, his glowing eyes flashing. Rieren finally relaxed. She hadn’t realized just how tense she had become since the moment she had finished dealing with the Gravemark Puppeteer and the fallout had begun. But now, things were starting to actually look a little positive for them. Even her pain had receded. Fractionally.

The Sect Leader had survived. A deathly blow to their morale had been subverted. Despite their losses, despite all that they had sacrificed, there was a small chance that things could turn out alright.

If Rieren did what was needed of her and finally left.