Chapter 24 – Tempering the Core
The air in the ruined subway tunnel had gone quiet again, as if the dungeon had never existed.
But Auther could feel it—subtle, yet undeniable.
Something inside him had shifted.
The mana in his veins moved with more weight. His breath felt deeper. His senses sharper.
He was no longer just surviving.
He was advancing.
He climbed the crumbling stairs out of the subway, pausing at the top as golden light filtered through clouds. Dusk had settled across the ruined city. Long shadows fell across bent street signs and shattered windows.
Auther walked in silence for a while, weaving through collapsed buildings, his senses on high alert for mutants. But none approached.
He returned to his vault—an old maintenance room reinforced with scavenged iron and crude enchantments—and closed the heavy hatch behind him.
Then he pulled the glowing blue core from his satchel and set it gently on the table.
The E4 core pulsed with power. Not overwhelming, but dense. Compact. Like a tightly wound spring.
He sat cross-legged before it and began his breathing cycle.
Starwave Breathing kicked in immediately. Threads of mana seeped from the core, drawn into his lungs in microscopic streams.
But raw absorption wouldn't be enough.
This wasn't ambient mana.
This was crystallized will.
He needed precision.
He activated Heavenvein Refinement and Energy Activation simultaneously, funneling energy through his circuits.
The feeling was intense.
Like drinking fire through a straw.
But he kept going.
The mana burned through his limbs—filling his core, expanding his internal capacity with each rotation.
He felt it—his veins expanding, bones subtly reinforcing, skin absorbing a faint sheen of energy.
After ten minutes, he had to stop.
Sweat dripped from his brow.
His breathing was uneven.
But when he checked his screen, it confirmed the change.
---
[Current Rank: E2 → E3]
[Status: Stable Advancement Achieved]
---
"E3," he whispered, clenching and unclenching his fist.
Power surged through his arms.
He hadn't just added more mana.
He'd improved his structure.
Each jump between major ranks—F to E, E to D—was more than numbers.
It was evolution.
His muscles were denser.
His organs more efficient.
Even his mana capacity had nearly doubled.
It felt like wearing armor beneath his skin.
He leaned back and stared at the ceiling for a while, catching his breath.
Then he opened the Kinetic Redirection scroll.
A passive martial skill. Mid-E rank. Way more advanced than anything he'd used before.
It would take time to integrate properly.
But that didn't stop his thoughts from drifting elsewhere.
He'd gained 22 skill points from the dungeon. And now… another five from mutant kills on the way back.
---
[Total Skill Points: 27]
---
Time to create.
He opened Skill Creation, hands already typing out a new idea.
> Name: Edge Pulse
Description: "A technique that allows Mana Edge to release a short-ranged energy arc when swung, dealing cutting damage at distance. Arc's range and power scale with skill rank."
Rank: F5
Cost: 15 SP
Tempting.
But not yet.
He had another idea.
> Name: Adaptive Reflex Layer
Description: "A passive system that links Neural Reinforcement and Kinetic Redirection, allowing the user's body to respond autonomously to certain physical triggers. Slightly enhances combat flow, balance, and instinctive counter-movement."
Rank: E1
Cost: 75 SP
Too expensive. But the concept was good.
Instead, he tried to chip it down.
> Name: Reflex Sync
Description: "A minor passive upgrade linking Neural Reinforcement to Kinetic Redirection. Slightly improves motion prediction and balance under impact."
Rank: F5
Cost: 16 SP
Acceptable.
He confirmed.
---
[Skill Created: Reflex Sync (F5)]
[Skill Points Remaining: 11]
---
The skill activated instantly.
He felt a slight buzz in his muscles—like his brain and limbs had found a cleaner line of communication.
Small changes.
But they mattered.
Especially in combat.
He stood, took a few practice swings with Mana Edge, then threw in some footwork.
The blade moved faster now.
His counterbalances were tighter.
His pivots sharper.
"Better," he muttered.
He still wasn't strong enough to fight most E4 monsters head-on—but with precision, preparation, and smart skills, he could win against those stronger than him.
As he wiped down his blade and stowed his items, his thoughts drifted to something else.
Skill Points.
He only had eleven left.
Not enough to make anything extravagant.
But what if…?
He pulled open the interface again and began drafting an idea.
> Name: Skill Point Absorption
Description: "A passive skill that generates 1 skill point every 24 hours. Accelerated rate if absorbing external mana sources."
Rank: F
Cost: 142 SP
He stared at the number.
"…Figures."
Even a basic, low-rank SP generation skill cost more than a hundred points.
And that was F-rank.
He tried rewriting the description.
> Name: Lesser SP Recovery
Description: "Generates 1 skill point every 7 days."
Rank: F1
Cost: 89 SP
Still too much.
It wasn't surprising.
Skill creation that affected skill creation itself would always be expensive. It was recursive power—meta-level authority.
But he grinned anyway.
"At least it's possible."
One day, he'd build the foundation to afford such things.
Not today.
But soon.
He closed the screen and walked to the vault's window. The city stretched out beyond the ruins—burnt cars, half-collapsed towers, crooked walls of steel and wire.
It looked dead.
But he knew better now.
Beneath the decay, the world was alive.
Breathing.
Changing.
And filled with monsters, treasures, and power.
He would grow here.
He would thrive.
He tightened the straps on his vest and rechecked his weapons.
Tomorrow, he'd move further west—into territory with higher mutant density. With Reflex Sync and his new strength, he could handle it.
He'd set his sights on reaching E5 within the week.
One rank at a time.
One kill at a time.
And when he was strong enough to challenge the real dungeons, the ones that reshaped nations…
He'd walk in.
Alone.
And come out carrying the world on his back.