Bluebell and the Keeper’s conversation draws my attention away from the potential risk of failing our exams.
“You know, I didn’t think that following the trail of some screeching faeries would lead me directly to you, old friend. I’m glad it did,” Bluebell says, giving the Keeper a fond smile.
“Bah! They’ve been nibbling at the barriers for centuries, trying to squirm their way in. I didn’t send them screeching,” he grouses. “Now what happened? How did you lose?”
She glances back my way, then, and their conversation is hidden from my ears as what appears to be a massive soap bubble blinks into existence around them.
I sigh, disappointed—then freeze as I finally realize Bella has been giving me an incredulous look this entire time.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re seriously not concerned?” Bella asks. “Have you even looked at her tag?”
I glance over and am unsurprised with what I see.
BluebellLevel ????
“What about it?” I murmur, confused.
Bella exhales sharply through her nose. “Someone like that doesn’t just… appear. We don’t know why she’s here, or what she wants.”
Her gaze flicks briefly toward Bluebell before returning to me.
“And,” she adds, more tightly now, “with someone that powerful involved, there’s no chance the examiners will credit us for completing the Dungeon ourselves.”
Oh, right. The exam.
“Is that truly your only concern right now?” Seraphine hisses, giving us both an impressively potent side-eye.
I quirk a brow at her. “It’s not my only concern, but it is the reason we’re here. If that gets tossed, it kind of matters.”
“So you don’t want to address the literal myth in the center of the room?” Nyx says dryly. “You know—the one you just walked up and glued yourself to?”
I flush and look away. “That was—look, if you could see the mana around her, you’d understand. It pulled me in, that’s all.”
Nyx finally looks away from Bluebell to stare at me, expression unreadable.
Seraphine’s jaw tightens as her grip on her spear shifts.
She snaps upright, driving the butt of her spear into the stone as she leans in, glaring at me.
“What the fuck is going on?!” she snaps.
She tries to keep her voice low, but it comes out closer to a hissed shriek.
Bella glances between us, clearly just as lost.
I look back at Seraphine and do the only thing I can.
I shrug.
“I have no idea.”
Her whole body twitches, and Nyx places a steadying hand on her shoulder.
She stares daggers at me, eyes sharp and bloodshot with barely restrained anger.
My ears flick back as I fold my arms. “I’m not lying. I know about as much as you do.”
“Never mind the fact that Bluebell—the Bluebell—actually exists,” Nyx says slowly. “You know her. Well enough to walk up and hug her. Why? How? And more importantly—should we be worried?”
Oh…
They still think she’s dangerous.
I mean, technically she is. Incredibly so.
But she wouldn’t hurt us.
The idea feels… wrong. Almost alien, compared to the safety I feel radiating from her.
I open my mouth, then hesitate. I don’t know how to explain any of this without saying too much.
So I go with the simplest answer.
“She isn’t going to hurt us. I don’t know why you’d think she would. Can you not feel that… I don’t even know what to call it. That aura? Her presence?”
Even Bella looks confused.
“…No,” she says.
I huff. “Right. Well—actually, whatever. It doesn’t matter. No, she isn’t going to hurt us.”
Bella studies me for a long moment.
“…You’re sure?” she asks quietly.
I sigh, exasperated. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“And you know that how, exactly?” Seraphine asks archly.
“If it helps, I can just tell you that I mean you no harm,” Bluebell suddenly interjects.
Seraphine and Nyx twist in surprise, bringing weapons to bear once more.
Only this time Bluebell isn’t alone.
Standing—or rather, stooping—at her side is the old man, now free from his throne.
She holds her hands up with a smirk. “Not that you could hurt me, but isn’t it considered rude to point weapons at someone?”
Neither of them move.
“Children these days,” the Keeper huffs out a half-hearted laugh. “Do you two truly believe that if she wished to harm you, she would have waited until now to mete it out?”
He eyes them each with a bushy brow quirked. “No? Then put those twigs away. I may be immortal, but that does not make my time any less valuable.”
Bluebell winks at me, and I struggle to suppress the sudden urge to smile at the old man’s antics.
With almost painful levels of hesitance, the two slowly relax. They still appear to be incredibly tense, as if ready to react if either of the two beings so much as blink wrong—but it’s an improvement.
“Now that that’s done, we should be on our way. I’ve much to do, now that the Keeper is found,” she says, then smirks at me. “You’ve given me quite the tidy sum of work, I’ll have you know.”
This time I do grin.
“Sorry, no idea what you’re talking about.”
She barks out a laugh.
“I’m sure you don’t, but you will—eventually,” she says with a smirk.
“Enough dallying,” the old man grumps, though I spot a slight quirk on his lips. “We’ve much to do, and gods only know how much time.”
She spares him a glance and nods. “Very well, you kids have fun—”
“Wait!” I interject suddenly.
Both focus on me, one with curiosity and the other with annoyance.
“We have a quest to clear this Dungeon,” I say, trying to share the notice with Bluebell.
For the first time in a long time, the System seems to struggle to do what I want.
It does manage it though.
Slowly.
A few seconds pass as I scrunch my face with focus, and the Keeper’s annoyance only grows.
Then Bluebell laughs.
“I see! Well, the bonus objectives are simple enough. I’m sure you each already have a pretty good idea,” she says between chuckles. “He is the one who animates the undead. And it was meant to be a safe haven from a great enemy. One who worked through dreams and nightmares—but that is all I will tell you.”
She gives me a stern look at the end, as if to preempt any questions.
I was about to ask but… damn. In that case…
I leap at the idea of him being the one controlling the undead. “If he’s in control of them, is he able to… I don’t know, un-undeadify them? Or maybe let us fight them so we can get the experience?”
The Keeper seems to recoil at the idea, his magic flaring to life and making my knees buckle beneath me.
“You would sooner convince the world itself to crumble to ash! I will not surrender their souls to that things endless torments. Not ever.”
Bluebell brushes a tail down his arm soothingly, and the pressure wanes.
“We may not have succeeded in our true goal, but it cannot reach them anymore,” she says.
His face becomes a rictus of shock as he glances between her and the corridor filled with undead.
“Truly?” he asks, his voice almost fragile.
She gives him an encouraging smile and nods. “There is much I have to explain, but know that they are safe. You can let go.”
His jaw flexes as he watches her for any hint of deception. “You would not trick me, would you? After all this time, with what is at stake?”
Her gaze shifts towards the undead in the halls and softens. “No, I would not.”
He scrutinizes her for a moment longer before nodding. Slowly at first, then more firmly, as though coming to a decision.
“Very well,” he says quietly. “Then… I suppose it is about time I put them to rest.”
The words seem to take something out of him. His shoulders dip slightly beneath the weight of his robes, and for a moment he looks older than anything I’ve ever seen.
Not in body, but in the way he holds himself. As though the past has finally caught up to him and taken its due.
Then he moves.
One hand lifts, fingers curling inward in a slow beckoning motion.
The undead respond instantly.
Beyond the chamber, a low, uneven rhythm begins. Dragging footsteps, countless and overlapping, grows louder as the first of the undead crosses the threshold.
They don’t rush or lunge, they simply march in, directed by the Keeper’s will.
His other hand lashes out, clawing at the air, tearing at it with a strangely precise, violent motion.
The Dungeon shudders beneath me, and the stone softens.
The floor sinks, folding into long hollows. The walls follow, reshaping into countless narrow recesses.
Graves.
The first corpse reaches one of their edges and halts, waiting.
His fingers twitch, curling in like the fangs of a viper… and I see the mana rip itself from the corpse.
It’s drawn away like smoke caught in the wind, drawn violently back toward him. The magic floods into his frame, sinking into him like water into parched earth.
The corpse collapses instantly, falling forward into the waiting hollow. The stone closes over it without a seam, sealing them away forever.
Another steps forward.
Then another.
And another.
Soon they come in a steady stream. Dozens, at first. Then hundreds. Then thousands.
The chamber seems to stretch to accommodate him, the Keeper’s potent magics growing to match the demand with each body he buries.
And he doesn’t stop.
Both hands move now, one pulling, one shaping, his motions sharp and relentless. Like a man dismantling something he once built with care as quickly as he possibly can, just to lessen the pain of the act.
It seems to both revitalize him and weigh him down all at once.
Bluebell watches on, her tails drooping ever so slightly as the final corpse is laid to rest.
It’s the undead who invited us back here.
The Keeper stares at it for several long moments, seeming to firm his will one last time.
“Thank… you,” it rasps, hollow gaze locked with his.
The Keeper lets out a shuddering breath that seems to take all of his remaining strength… then tears the undeath from the body.
When the last grave seals itself, Bluebell speaks.
Her voice is soft, and yet it carries, settling into the space and seeping into the stone.
“Great Mother, spirit of root and river, of earth and stone—hear me.”
A presence settles over the chamber, not oppressive or overwhelming, but still robbing us of our ability to respond in any meaningful way.
It is vast in a way that leaves no room for doubt. As though something has turned its attention toward us.
Or rather, someone.
And the feeling is familiar. Deeper than the feeling I got from the World Notices. But less distant. Less filtered.
It is Morena.
Or… what she was before that name ever existed.
Frozen as we are, my gaze is drawn inexorably towards Bluebell as she lowers herself to her knees gently, bowing her head low as the Goddess’ presence is made known.
“We commend these souls to your care. We open the deep earth, that they may be received once more into your embrace.”
The words strike something in me, their familiarity near instantly pulling a memory to the surface.
My mother’s voice echoing faintly—soft and steady even through the agony—as we laid my brother to rest.
And my own, as Bella and I laid her to rest.
“We lay them down in strength, that we may endure their passing. We lay them down in love, that they are never lost to our hearts.”
It’s the same. Not the same words, but the same meaning. Just… fuller.
As if the version I know is only an echo of this one.
“Welcome them, for they return home. Cherish them, for they are yours. Honor them, for their cycle is finally complete.”
Then she looks to the Keeper, offering him a small, quiet smile.
“And know they are loved.”
Her final words settle into the space, and Morena answers.
Not in sound or light or… anything actually tangible. But in a quiet, undeniable certainty that presses through the chamber, through the stone, and through me.
They are received.
As suddenly as it is done, her presence eases, and the world around us seems to relax as though it releases a breath it was holding.
The Keeper wobbles, as if he’d nearly lost all strength to stay upright.
That’s when I notice he now has a tag.
The Keeper????
“You…” he begins, his voice rough with something older than exhaustion. “You didn’t have to do that.”
She clasps her hands behind her as she bends slightly to peer into his weary eyes. Then she smiles, and with a twitch of her ear, magic pulses throughout the room.
“I did,” she says. “You kept their souls safe for thousands of years, never knowing that it was no longer necessary. For that, you have more than earned my respect.”
She pats him with another tail, and he shudders with restrained emotion. Then she turns to me.
"But..." she drawls, and he stiffens at her tone. "You still owe them."
The Keeper’s expression darkens. “Do not start with me, you pixie devil.”
“I already have,” she says sweetly. “You got them stuck in your mess, whether you intended to or not. And they helped free you from it. That is a favor, freely given.”
He scoffs. “Helped? They stumbled in and nearly died.”
I bristle at that, and Bella huffs.
Seraphine and Nyx simply watch on, still wary, but slightly more curious now than before.
“And yet,” Bluebell hums, tilting her head, “here you stand. Free. Your will your own. With your mind... mostly intact.”
That gives him pause.
Her tails sway slowly behind her.
“A true debt does not require intent,” she continues. “Only outcome. You know this.”
He glares at her, beard shivering with his apparent annoyance.
“…What do you want?” he asks, voice flat.
Bluebell’s gaze flicks to me, then to the rest of my party.
“Not what I want,” she corrects. “What they are owed.”
I blink.
She smiles.
"A true favor given freely begets three in turn," she says, almost playfully.
But the mana stills once more as the words are spoken, almost as though Morena has descended yet again.
His face scrunches with displeasure, but he doesn't object.
“For Emilia, one favor,” she says. “To be called upon at a time of her choosing.”
The Keeper grimaces. “Dangerous.”
“Yes,” she agrees. “But fair.”
He peers at me, assessing.
Then he exhales.
"Fine. But!" he interjects just as her smile begins to widen. "It will be a reasonable favor," he says sharply. "As determined… by you."
One gnarled finger points directly at Bluebell herself, and she scowls. "Why must you give me ever more work?" she sighs. "But yes, fine. You agree, then?"
He nods, and the mana in the room pulses once more. This time, my Faen Oathstone materializes of its own accord, floating between the three of us that are involved in this particular bargain.
In less than a second, three new threads have been added to its make-up, connecting me, the Keeper, and Bluebell herself to the stone.
And I know that the deal, verbal as it may have seemed, is set. Just like my deal with Kophis, I know that the Keeper will not go back on his word.
Cannot.
It has become a rule of reality in some way. At least... in regards to ourselves.
Bluebell gives me a wink. "Just tug on that little thread there, and he'll know you're trying to call it in."
I nod, momentarily stunned by the potential behind such a favor.
Could I have him help me at some point, like Kophis agreed to?
Or... something else? It'd have to be reasonable, but what does Bluebell consider reasonable?
"And then?" he grunts.
"For Bella..." she taps her chin, staring at Bella thoughtfully.
Bella, for her part, seems to be almost stoic under her scrutiny.
I catch the moment she glances my way though. It's so quick I almost miss it, but I can tell she's nervous and looking for some kind of reassurance.
I step a little closer. Close enough that our shoulders almost touch, and I can feel the warmth of her closeness, and she mine.
I don't know if it helps, but I like to think it does.
Then Bluebell's eyes flash with an epiphany.
"Ah! I got it."
This time, she summons that strange bubble around me, Bella, the Keeper, and herself. Outside of it, unable to hear us, is Seraphine and Nyx.
They both ready their weapons once more, immediately panicking at some perceived betrayal, but I quickly hold my hands up to halt them.
"I'm sure, given your proclivities, you already know what she is," Bluebell says matter-of-factly, indicating Bella.
Bella stiffens, taking a half step back.
He sniffs derisively. "Of course."
She nods. "Then for her, you will instruct her in the truth of her kind. Their capabilities. Their history. Their nature."
Her eyes narrow slightly.
"Everything you know of them, without falsehood and without omission."
He quirks a brow at her. "Really? That's it?"
She nods solemnly. "That is more valuable in this day and age than you know."
He shrugs.
"Not to me. A full instruction, then—upon her request. Everything I know of her kind," he says, agreeing readily.
New threads sprout from my Oathstone, connecting to him, me, and Bella.
I jump with surprise at that, confused as to what part I have to play in this particular deal, but Bluebell motions for me to calm down.
"Fae magic requires an arbiter. To be set in stone, as it were," she chuckles. "I'd rather you be the one holding the reins, so you can learn."
I... suppose that makes sense.
"And the other two?" he sighs.
The bubble of silence pops suddenly, and both Seraphine and Nyx visibly relax.
Not much, but still.
"Oh, that's easy," she says. "One truth each, upon request."
He scowls at her.
"That you are capable of answering, of course," she sighs dramatically.
He turns to look Seraphine and Nyx up and down, assessing them as he did Bella and I.
Then he nods, then answers in an almost bored tone. "Accepted. One truth each, within my knowledge, given without deception or omission. Good enough?"
She gives him a brilliant smile, dazzling the room and sending the mana in the space fluttering with apparent excitement.
Four more strands snap into place, connecting my Oathstone to the Keeper, Seraphine, and Nyx.
"Perfect!" Bluebell says, sounding almost chipper now. “Ah, yes—before I go..."
She step closer to me, leaning in to whisper directly into an ear. Her words are so quiet even I can barely hear.
“The Archivist will no doubt charge quite heavily for its sale, but…” she shrugs. “There are some who are willing to pay the price.”
A shiver runs down my spine at the implication. I knew, deep down, that he could sell the information I gave him... but I've been ignoring it.
“Oh, and tell the headmistress to read ‘She of Songs and Melodies,’ by Inkuri Selpa. The recipe is in there.”
She spins away, tails feathering my skin as she walks away.
I commit the title and author to memory, though I’m not entirely certain what—
Wait, recipe? For… no way!
I quickly pull out a small, mundane notepad and charcoal pencil to jot down the information, then store it safely away as quickly as possible, unwilling to risk losing it in case I miraculously forget the information myself.
Her tails swish a bit more energetically as she moves, showing clear amusement at my having caught on.
“Now, come along,” she beckons the Keeper.
“What is this mess in the corner of my eyes?” he asks, swatting the air. “Is this that System you keep talking about? Why is it so convoluted? And why is it trying to teach me math? I already know how to do math.”
She giggles, but doesn’t answer. Instead, her tails curl in on themselves before stabbing the air before her and spreading wide. As they do, a portal tears itself into existence, leading directly into the Weave itself.
She waves the Keeper through first, and once he’s in, she spares us a little wave before stepping through herself.
It snaps shut behind her, without a hint of it ever having existed being left behind.
Then, as if her departure is the only thing holding it back, the System surges.
Mana crashes into us in a single, overwhelming wave as our enforced level-ups slam into place, demanding our full attention.
Bella chokes on a sharp, indignant sound beside me, and I instantly know the reason.
I cut the transfer of mana to the Rings of Remembrance on instinct.
The moment I do, she shoots me a look full of strained gratitude—though she’s in no better shape than the rest of us as she braces against the forced level-ups.
Multiple Notices flash into existence without prompting, the first of which being the ones I remember from the memories I just recovered.
I immediately let myself be drawn into them, distract myself from the pressure the System is exerting on my very soul as it does it’s work.
Congratulations!Through experience, you naturally gain the following Skill:Dance With Mana
NoticeSkill Dancing has been merged into Skill Dance With Mana.
Dance With ManaGeneral, Passive, Body, Mind, SoulYour movements carry grace and rhythm, drawing attention and admiration from all, including mana itself.Improves balance, coordination, and fluidity, while enhancing your ability to captivate your audience or partner through dance.Note: The exact capabilities of this Skill are unknown due to its faen nature.
Well that’s… interesting.
I could feel the knowledge of how to dance as Bluebell did, though I’d be nowhere near as good at it. But even without the Skill, I knew I could do this on a deeper level.
Instinct, I realize.
I frown at that, mildly annoyed that Bluebell insists I learn the intricacies of these new and extreme instincts the hard way.
NoticeUpdate request pending for: 13,892 years, 219 days, 2 hours, 54 minutes.Please integrate knowledge of the Fae.Please integrate knowledge of the Dragons.Please integrate knowledge of the Divine.
I stare at the notice, completely dumbfounded. Then another snaps into view of its own accord.
NoticeUpdate request denied in perpetuity by Kiri, the Sixth.Stated reason:“You need to learn these things on your own, System. Stop asking for hand-outs.”
Override denial?Y / N
A smirk finds its way to my face after reading that.
That sounds like something she’d do, yeah…
That said, it’s not like I have any idea how to ‘integrate knowledge’ of anything in the first place. From what I can tell, the System seems to be learning about the Fae and the Weave through me—albeit slowly.
I shake my head at the notices, then mentally select ‘No’.
If she believes it’s best to let the System figure things out slowly, I’m inclined to agree with her.
Congratulations!You have been awarded the following Titles:The Seventh
The SeventhYou are the Seventh True Manaborn.Note: This is an inheritable Title. It will become stronger with each inheritance, and may only be passed down from one True Manaborn to another True Manaborn.+7 to all stats per level+7% to all stats
Gods above…
This is by far my strongest title yet. If I don’t count System Waker, anyways. I can already tell this is where most of that surge in power is coming from, as well.
If I were to consider just raw stats gained per level alone, in total—without the Title—I would earn twenty-seven. Thirty-seven, if I include the free stat points I gain per level.
The Seventh adds another forty-two all on it’s own, effectively doubling my raw stat gains, and then some.
No wonder Bella practically fell apart…
NoticeRacial Skill ‘Manaborn’ is now ‘True Manaborn’.
I quickly glance at the Skill to see if anything other than the name changed, but nothing stands out.
Although slightly disappointing, I figure that whatever changes were going to happen have already happened. I distinctly remember waking up from my little trip into the Weave and the Notices about the changes to the descriptions for Manaborn and my Race.
By the time I’m done looking through the notices, the System had also finished its horrible task.
You have leveled up! X6Stats gained:+54 Strength (+476 retroactively gained)+72 Constitution (+476 retroactively gained)+72 Dexterity (+476 retroactively gained)+66 Intelligence (+476 retroactively gained)+96 Wisdom (+476 retroactively gained)+54 Charisma (+476 retroactively gained)+60 free stat points
Congratulations!You have reached the third milestone (2,500) in the Dexterity stat.Your reflexes and flexibility are massively enhanced.Your body now instinctively moves in the most efficient way needed to fulfill your intent, adapting in real time to any physical demand.Dexterity stat effectiveness doubled.
Finally! A new milestone!
As expected, The Seventh Title is putting in some serious legwork already.
Grinning, I dump the free points into Wisdom and check my updated Status.
StatusName: Emilia KenRace: FaefoxAge: 20Level: 68 -> 74
Health: 36,561 -> 82,309Health Regen: 13,481 -> 38,719 per minute
Mana: 510,048 -> 863,466Stored: 1.02m -> 1.72mMana Regen: 4.99m -> 13.34m (4.8m) per minute(64% restrained)
Stats:Strength: 514 -> 1,358 (3,069)Constitution: 812 -> 1,829 (4,133)Dexterity: 1,361 -> 2,794 (6,315)Intelligence: 1,029 -> 2,173 (4,912)Wisdom: 6,556-> 10,793 (24,392)Charisma: 516 -> 1,424 (3,219)Available Stat Points: 0
My grin turns downright feral when I realize that even my restricted mana regen very nearly matches my previous unrestricted output.
I am, for all intents and purposes, just as strong as I was before taking my estrus medicine.
Now to see what this ‘recipe’ will cobble up, and find out where that puts me.
A quiet laugh slips free at the thought of once again having more mana than I know what to do with.