The man disappears through a storm of mana. In his wake, a tear in space. My aura unwillingly presses into the sharp void, like a deflating balloon. Accompanying it, an alien feeling; like a phantom hand suddenly growing out of your back. For a moment, I feel myself across two spaces and a vast distance. There I was in a bedroom of sorts, and, my own dungeon. At once. Split.
Then, what I could only call the "tether" is cut, as the spell begins dispersing.
Initially, It feels as though a part of myself has been gouged. A third of my vision vanishes as a wave of dizziness washes over me. Then, in the very next instant, I am beset with an over-powering and soul-intensive blast of pleasure incomparable to the last I experienced. Like a tornado launching a house, my consciousness is sucked into the flow. Unwillingly, I feel myself chasing the flood of mana as it disseminates into my aura.
From there on, I experienced something I struggle to describe. I was inside myself. The form of mind I normally take could be imagined as a full-body 'phantom limb'. Here, and shrunk, I appeared with the approximate size of a grain of sand. I paled in comparison to the void of my core. Like a drop falling in a lake, I quickly discovered my human consciousness hardly occupied but a speck of my body's capacity. It was a space of void and energy, lit by sparkling lights of luminescent transforming energy. They connected in strange and bizarre ways. I watched as the links between fired unknown magic, much like a collection of neurons.
They were connected to 'me' too, albeit very lightly. I observed as tiny formations independent of my base consciousness were flying into me. I hadn't realized before either, but my lost vision returned as soon as I was conscious and present in this space.
If I were to hazard a guess as to what happened, my senses overloaded. So much so that either my 'subconscious' or my 'core' chose to 'disconnect' me. Perhaps, it sensed the damage and began self-repair?
But my focus was drawn from that to the rainbow light funneling into my center core. The sight was spectacular. Enamored, I watched my aura disassemble the foreign mana. First, it was focused, then split like a spectrum. Millions of tiny, specialized spell crafts of different roles then pieced apart and wove it anew into more me. Not all pieces were created the same, but like the cells of a body, they came together to make me whole.
I am pure mana. The thought rings, echoing far in the seemingly endless space. The very thought makes me pause, long enough to delay the realization of the return of my control. Before I can act further, the experience ends as a surge of 'me' begins to attach, or more, reattach itself to me. I barely make contact with the connection before I am whisked back within the humble confines of my cave.
And for all I know, I was there for either a moment or, an eternity. In fact, it seems the only reason I was still conscious through that was my human 'mind'.
Would a normal dungeon react to that the same way? I pondered.
Meanwhile, the rest of 'me' was parsing the vast amount of spell data that had flown in.
I think... my human memories are actively inhibiting my consciousness. Simply put, my 'brain' is still attempting to perceive mana through my memory of the senses (which I do not actually possess). But, it seems my old brain's processing power is leagues below this new "body" of mine. It is a bit like running an early operating system on a supercomputer. In fact, the spell formation which I could value at nearly 1000 mana was safely and completely disseminated into my core. Even a perfect blueprint of the formation remained. At least, this half of it.
Sigh.
I can also tell now that I will likely never forget anything. In fact, I had to cordon the memory of the spell and its pleasure. Merely 'touching' it sent goosebumps through my 'body'.
With the empty pleasure sealed, and my mind free for action, I surveyed the battlefield.
I had never expected the fight with the halfing to get this bloody.
Floppy was bisected. Gore was seeping from his barely wiggling backside. He was nothing but a tail and spare heart. Even his crimson core was exposed and the vine-like veins surrounding it leaked his steaming blood. Around him were the scattered corpses of his allies and some of the survivors.
And where the halfling disappeared, a pool of blood.
All of this was lost in a fight with a single man. That thought makes me pause for the briefest of moments before I find myself taking action.
Quickly, I set the heaviest stream of mana I could into his core and begun my attempts at repair. But, a doubt thickened fog sweeps into my mind as I consider my plan.
I have no template for Floppy. If there is any chance at saving him, I would have to rebuild his top from scratch. And then there is the rest of the carnage. The vast swaths of my insects were dead. With a quick estimate, I counted the dead at around 50%. Not only that, but a vast amount of the survivors are fading fast.
I could attempt to save Floppy, or, preserve the horde. Smidt was already gone; cooked inside his own armor. The horde itself was afflicted with crushed limbs and carapaces, some burnt. But, a connection still rang from many of the twitching bodies.
But, thinking objectively, if Floppy died now, I doubt I could remake him with just half of a dead blueprint. With him alive, albeit redesigned, I would have a chance to preserve his species for the future. Testing a newly created part needs some sort of life hooked into it to function. Otherwise, it's just meat.
And... he is a bit of a special powerhouse. To me at least.
Shit. I guess I have already decided.
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Grendigory apparated in a dark and musty room, his body crashing into the wooden floor. After the resounding bang, he groaned an exasperated and tired sound of pain. The room's dust assaulted his nostrils as pain wracked his body. Dazed, he struggled a wheezy breath through the pain. His adrenaline was fading fast and that soon revealed a massive problem.
The extreme pain in his leg was still getting worse!
"This thing is still alive? What the fuck!"
Grendigory's fingers sparked alive with magical flame as he shouted, spawning dim light in the dusty tavern bedroom. There he saw his source of agony; a spasming, twitching worm corpse still very much attached to his leg. Dragging himself up, he pried his dagger into its gullet. With what mana he had left, he pooled it into his hands and arms. And, with unbecoming strength, carved his dulling blade through as much flesh he could. His free leg followed, prying the now loose creature off.
And then, he was free. With the last of the mana leaving his body through flames, he watched as the creature slowly writhed away. And, as dark retook the room, he soon lost his consciousness.
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My consciousness envelopes what remains of Floppy. Quickly, I sample small parts of the veins, carapace, flesh, and other bits. Slowly, I wind around his body. Like a weaver, I spin new flesh and veins, melting them together with the old. Blood still dripped out of the exposed vein endings, but I merely reclaim it as soon as it touches the ground.
And, as I weave, I notice each time one of my mental connections fades. Sadness wells up in me as each dip feeds a feeling of melancholy.
Soon, however, it is done. And Floppy wiggles anew and alive.
Was this the right decision? Looking around again, it seems like I lost nearly 85% of my insect population. I swiftly moved to save those still alive, but, amidst the bloody battlefield were few survivors. When those still alive were finally repaired, my racing mind started to settle. Soon my conscious focus was drawn to Smidt.
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The ferocious and fiery blast had left little possibility for survival. His eyes were melted in their sockets. It seems the sheer heat of the attack had turned his eyes to liquid. Not only that, but his fur was and scales were charred black.
Thinking back to the battle, my decision to use him as a decoy was not unfounded. Only in hindsight, I can say the previous decisions I made were "wrong." But there is no doubt that many of these deaths were caused by my own inexperience. There are many mistakes to learn from here, the first being that I underestimated my opponent. Almost any sentient being will always act under a goal of self-preservation. Yet, here I was, foolishly believing this person would be baited into my trap. Further still, I failed to consider my opponent's strength. Who ventures into a cave with only an iron dagger? Someone stupid, or, someone confident.
The second mistake I made was playing my hand too early. My hasty plan left much to be desired. Had I lured the intruder in further, perhaps Smitd could have launched a surprise horn attack, rather than be stuck on the defensive. While horned rabbits possess excellent offense, their strongest attack in itself is an all-in. I fundamentally misused him, leading to his death. He could have killed the intruder before any major losses. Not only that, but I denied myself the opportunity to gather reconnaissance and change my plan as needed.
There are too many factors I failed to consider. This costly battle, which only ended in a draw. I don't even have the right to call it 'phyric'.
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With the Floppy situation partially dealt with, I begin to solve my second problem: population.
More than 70% of the dungeons population died in the fight with the invader. Aside from Veteran and Floppy, as well as the small rabbit population of sixteen and the fifteen insects, there were no other survivors. An idea came to mind to simply replace the population that was lost. I had the mana, even after only recovering 70% of the mana from the corpse pile. Fueled by the stones after effect, the excess mana had brought my reserves up way past the maximum. Doing so seemingly boosted my maximum portion, although far too little to be able to hold the mana. At present, my capacity was 250, and my regeneration at .4 per minute. All in all, my total had reached around 1300 mana at one point. After losing some mana to over-capacity and reforming Floppy, however, I only had five hundred left. Even that was leaking; albeit slower than when I had above a thousand. Still, I had now raised maximum capacity without even increasing my total space which meant it wasn't my size that solely affected growth but mana intake as well. At this point, I could easily replace the lost population.
Still, I decided against it. As combatants, the insects were essentially defeated by thick boots. I was, however, impressed by Smidt. His power was a degree higher than all but Floppy and he could easily outspeed anything in the dungeon. It was only my flaw as a commander that lead to his death. Having him wait in the darkness was a tactical flaw: once the invader showed skill with magic I should have ordered Smidt to not stop at any point. Instead, I left him an easy target.
That's why I decided to create a second variation of the omnivorous rabbits. Oddly enough, the inspiration for this design came from the very adventurer that invaded me. He gave me a thought; why can't I invade the surface?
But, before that, I had to ensure the excess wasn't wasted. So, I turned 280 mana into fourteen horned rabbit children. With mana spent, I returned to my planning.
I most certainly have hangups after sending my initial worm population to their deaths. That was another mistake on my part. They dug in the direction ordered until they had nothing left to dig. If I were to guess, once they reached the surface they tried to dig the very air itself. In their minds, there was likely nothing except the concept of 'dig'.
With no will to survive and no higher thought, they likely starved to death. Or, perhaps were eaten. A tragic waste of life.
I hope to make sure to avoid wasteful mistakes just like that. So, before I decided to send more to their deaths I performed a simple test. Sending a rabbit outside, I ordered it to stay outside around the dungeon until nightfall. It would only return early if it was needed for survival. This way I would know if my creatures could survive without my mana.
In the meantime, I would begin my designs. Using the omnivorous rabbit design as a base, I began by removing all of the scales. The defense would not be a priority in this design. Instead, speed was of greater importance. The removal of scales played two parts in this aspect. Firstly, It lowered their weight. In addition, the scales also limited flexibility so their removal meant I could create more flexible ligaments. So, that's what I did. Adding a pseudo wrist to the front legs of the rabbit, I then proceeded to modify the shoulder to allow greater movement. Next up is the enhancement of the claws. Mixing chitin with keratin I created a thicker, stronger, and longer version compared to the original. This combined with the modified front legs meant the rabbit could deliver a powerful slash. In all, I would estimate the claws at about half the size of an arrowhead. With the already fortified back legs and spinal structure of the horned rabbit, it meant that these new claw rabbits could rear up on their back legs and strike that way as well.
In addition, I covered their body in a layer of black fur. This added some camouflage in the darkness. It was layered too, with a small kangaroo-like pouch. As my plans were to send them out at night, I also chose to enlarge their eyes for greater night vision. Finally, I decided to shorten the horn. Despite being a potentially lethal attack, it was more of an all-in. My observations on Smidt showed that he was quite disoriented upon goring another creature with his horn. Instead, there would be no all-ins. Retreat would be a completely viable option when operating on the surface. Upon finishing my designs, my test rabbit returns alive and unharmed.
With a full stomach of what is likely inferior surface grass. Not going to comment on the suspicious red 'milk' mustache.
Still, it's a good sign, so, I promptly summon one of the new claw rabbits. Willing my mana, I pool it into my mental blueprint. My fifty points of mana then form into a new beast. Immediately, it stands up on its hind legs and curiously twitches its new limbs. Returning to the ground, it pensively scratches the ground with its new claws. Shortly after, its ears perk up. Its legs then once again twitch as if they couldn't contain the creature's boundless energy. It then shoots off into the next room promptly tackling an exposed grotworm. Biting into it, it proceeds to do what I could only call a death roll as it holds on to the worm. In a fury, it kicks and flicks its claws at an extreme speed as if it was digging in the dirt or running from a predator. The worm didn't take the attack well, receiving almost 40 cuts in about 4 seconds. Despite most of the attacks leaving shallow wounds, the sheer volume allowed the flesh to be rent. Still, the worm attempted to fight back in response. Unfortunately for it, no matter how fast it attacked, the assaulting rabbit easily dodged as they rolled about on the dusty floor. Shortly after another flurry of strikes, the rabbit retreated, sprinting into the darkness.
The worm, seemingly relieved of the rabbit's exit promptly moves to reach his den. Before he can even move, however, the rabbit returns once again full speed. This time, the death-roll hits the head and the worm promptly dies as its primitive brain is carved out of its head. Satisfied, the blood-covered rabbit began lapping up the minced meat. When it was finished it feasted upon the corpse.
I mean, I did design it to do that. But...
No matter.
It will fulfill its purpose for gathering perfectly. I have doubts about its killing power when facing members of a higher weight class. Even a normal bare-handed human child could probably fend one off. But, it could potentially outspeed a predator. Also, aside from its teeth, it would likely be defeated by leather boots just like the insects. Its purpose was not to beat boots, however. It was to retrieve something that could in its stead. A new source of biological material. I don't know why so little animals choose to enter. It could be that the ones who entered were the bravest of their species, or, that was I just unlucky. But that would not matter.
With my testing complete, I summoned 5 more of the rabbits, to a total of 6. I then give an order to the six rabbits to recover any small creature, plant, or insect they could feasibly capture and return by day. Upon their exit, I spend the rest of the mana summoning small beetles and worms to at least recover some of the lost population. In the meantime, while the rabbits gathered material, I decided to expand the walls in my lake room. It would be something to do while I waited for the return of my rabbits.
If they did return.
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For a moment when the fog cleared from Grendigorys mind, he thought he was waking up hungover. After all, he could feel the revelry below him.
"Happy hour?" he groaned, feeling drunken cheers through the floorboards. Trying to lift himself up, he was swiftly halted by the lack of feeling in his left hand and the surging pain in his right leg. Looking down, he was treated with a massive puss-filled scab. Looking left barely fared better with a well-done arm.
"Well done, huh."
Rolling to his back, Grendigory laughed aloud. It was wheezy and exasperated; the breath leaving his chest with a feeling of relief.
As if on reaction, he couldn't help but reach his right hand to the roof. While his eyes saw wood his mind could only imagine the open sky
Still alive. The thought lingered in the back of his head as he held his hand high
Then, an empty swing towards air, as he twists his working limbs to a seated position.
It didn't take long for the pain to remind him, but he ignored it as he dragged himself to the dusty bed. Or, rather what was under it. Stretching his good leg, he fished a square-sized box from under the bed. Reaching for the lid, he noted his previous message written on the box.
"Not flavored."
Popping the lid, he swallowed in dreaded expectation. Inside the box, three matching indents and a goopy green liquid in a corked flask. Flicking off the cork, he grasped the glassworks in three fingers. The other two sealed his nose as the foul mix slugged down his throat.
Were it not for the healing sewage trapped in his windpipe, he likely would have vomited at least three times. Wiping away several tears, a new rule was etched into his heart.
Unflavored potions; never again.