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The infinity dungeon 135
🕑 Added 2025-03-12 08:46:00 +0000 UTCChapter 135
After checking on Johanne and Kavanaugh, who were training by the treehouse, Michael returned to the outside world with Old Dave in tow.
“That woman is a machine,” commented David. “I’m not sure I’d enjoy her ministrations any more than Kavanaugh is. It would take a special kind of man to like them.”
Michael nodded pensively, “he’s actually handling the training better than I thought he would. Perhaps he has some modicum of talent for magic.”
“Well, he’s on our side now. Do you think it might be a good investment to train him up, not just carry him to Silver but actually use him?”
“I’ll think about it,” Michael said.
“You do that,” replied David, “There’s time. Now, I’ll be out. Got stuff to do.”
Michael watched him go, for a moment not registering that the old man was returning to the dungeon instead of going with him towards the road leading back to Site 00. By the time he realized that something was up, Old Dave was already gone.
Ah well, Michael thought with a shrug. He’s probably off to work in the Valley or something.
Only when he didn’t see him for several hours—longer than usual—did Michael start to worry. He managed to locate Travis, who claimed that Old Dave was training in the dungeon rather than working.
“He said he wanted to go to the second floor,” he said. The outline of the cards in his hands complemented his large, tattooed arms. “After finally going back to the dungeon, he managed to roll a challenge version of the floor. How long did you say he’s been there?”
“Several hours. Icarus?”
Michael’s phone buzzed as the AI activated, “David Chestermill has been outside communications range for three hours, twenty-five minutes and forty-eight seconds.”
“Hmm,” hummed Michael. “Outside communications range means he isn’t in the Valley either. Even with the fading time dilation, he’s been there a while. Icarus, run the math.”
“Given the current draw on dungeon resources, and the contextual datapoint for second-floor time dilation, David has been outside of communications range for four days, twelve hours and—”
“Got it, thanks,” said Travis with a growl, “fucking AI. I swear it does it on purpose.”
Michael shot him a glare. “Anyway. That’s not as bad as I thought.”
“Lots of people going in and out all the time nowadays. It even slowed down the expansion of the Area of Influence, not enough mana oozing out of the dungeon.”
Michael gave Travis a knowing smile, “don’t get cocky. The dungeon is ramping up its output,” he said, tapping his eyes.
“Speaking of ramping up, how’s your Skill Sanctum?”
Michael’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What is it that you want to know? I had Icarus take notes of everything I'm willing to share at the moment. It should all be in the database.”
“Whoa there,” said Travis, putting his hands forward. “I didn’t mean it like that. If you don’t think Candle Light is ready to know some information, I won’t force you to share, geez.”
“Sorry,” Michael shook his head as if trying to clear the bad thoughts away with physical force, “as I said a while ago, it’ll take some time before we are back to normal.”
Travis did not outwardly react to the statement, but Michael knew it must have hurt. He recalled the pain Travis had inflicted upon himself when he had removed his own cards in a show of defiance. In order to better understand the man, Michael had tried to do the same, only to be stopped by some sort of barrier as he was trying to put the cards in the back of his hand.
The systems were clearly incompatible, and as he tried to force the card inside anyway, he felt pain comparable to when he sundered his own skills. He guessed that the pain of removing a card might be similar.
“What do you want to know?” Michael asked, voice as controlled as he could make it.
Travis sighed, pinching his nose before his expression cleared. “I wanted to know if your Skill Sanctum is once again at capacity. I was wondering if you were sundering skills again.”
A shadow passed over Michael’s features for long enough for Travis to notice. Then, realizing that he had slipped back into it after he just tried to avoid lashing out at the man for no reason, Michael schooled his face.
“It’s not full, but it’s close. With skills like Magic Manipulation close to leveling up, I’m not taking any chances learning new magic. To free up some space, I would need to sunder uncommon skills, and I’m a bit reluctant to do so. I’m still not sure sundering my common ones had been a good idea.”
“Why?” asked Travis, surprised, “can’t you just… reinstate them as you want? I remember reading about it in your notes.”
“I can,” Michael nodded. “And I can even make them level up as if I had been using them all the time. It’s just…”
He paused, looking around at the forest. Compared to the Valley, it didn’t feel the same. It lacked a certain something, while the smell of pollution and humanity was strong even in the heart of the Appalachia.
“Each skill I sunder, the idea that I can just make do without them gets stronger. After all, I can more or less replicate what most common skills do with Magic Manipulation alone. Bolstered by Aura, if needed.”
“…and?” Travis urged him on.
“And despite this, it still feels like I’m missing something. That’s why the scars of my sundered skills are still on my Sanctum’s walls. On one hand, I’m not learning any more common skills because why bother? On the other hand I feel like I should. You don’t see me going around parading all the magic our operators have, even though I theoretically could.”
“Because you never bothered to learn the skills,” Travis hummed.
“Again, I could theoretically replicate the effects. But without having had the skill at least once, the whole burden of constructing the magic falls on me. But if I choose to go the skill route, then sooner or later the scars will pile up, and take up more space on the walls than my actual skills. They aren’t doing anything bad right now, and there doesn’t seem to be a limit to the space on the Sanctum’s walls but…”
“Your mind has limits, doesn’t it? Even with the mental stats.” Travis said, and Michael nodded. “You’re still plenty powerful. At this point, perhaps having more common skills isn’t as relevant anymore. But if not this, then what are you doing to increase your strength?”
“Working on rarer skills, for instance.” He thought about the shield skill, and the elusive runescript, “with not much success. Learning more elements is also on the to-do list. You know what? I could do more. We could do more.”
“Who do you mean, we?”
“Everyone. Operators are only just starting to explore challenge floor Two, regular floor Two and floor Three. Me, I’ve barely even gone as deep as floor Four. That’s not enough. Not enough of a head start for me, and not enough average strength for the whole of Unity corp. I feel like there’s a storm brewing, and I won’t be caught unprepared.”
Travis did not say anything.
“We need to unlock deeper floors,” Michael said as he turned around, back towards the dungeon. “Plus, I need to punch something. I’m going down to floor Five.”
***
In the Valley, where spring was perpetual and the night was always cool and pleasant, Michael tried to relax before delving the dungeon again. After the adventure that had been floor Four, he was pretty sure that the Fifth was going to be a more standard delving floor rather than another challenge. It was impossible to say for sure, as the dungeon seemed to like messing with established norms from time to time, but the currents of magic that he could see seemed to suggest some sort of limit to how much the dungeon could draw at any time, and administering challenges on both the Second and the Fourth floor was already putting it under some sort of strain.
With the magic getting stronger on deeper floors, it made sense to assume that the Fifth would be a standard one, while the Sixth could be a challenge again.
“But then again, these are all just assumptions,” he muttered
“What are?” a voice asked chipperly, suddenly behind him. Michael turned around, almost jumping in surprise. He hadn’t sensed Old Dave coming at all, and he almost worried about why it had happened before remembering that he had amped up the protection of the Qi cocoon that dampened his senses while he relaxed.
Before he could say anything, Old Dave started speaking rather excitedly. “You won’t believe the challenge I just faced. Compared to what the soldiers reported, save for your own challenge I dare say it has been the hardest one we’ve seen so far! But the reward… Michael, I think we have the missing piece!”
His eyes were shining. Not just with excitement but also with tears that were dangerously close to leaping out of his eyes and wetting his face. He didn’t seem to care.
Shaking his head, Michael created a seat out of ice for himself. Old Dave did the same, but with a stone so dark it was almost black.
“Tell me everything,” said Michael.
“Alright,” Old Dave breathed in, as if preparing to retell the whole story in a single sentence. “After I spoke with you, I decided to go back to the dungeon. I just couldn’t stand sitting around like this anymore. The whole biolab incident has been an eye opener for me. The skills you gave me are good, as well as the control over Stone and the Silver aura I have. But they… almost were not enough. This strength that you had given me, it didn’t feel like it was mine. Like I owned it. I know the dungeon gives rewards tailored to each delver, proportional to the danger. Michael, in that moment I decided that it was time to finally quit being a pussy and face my fears.”
