The darkness inside the mine was absolute. It was a cool, silent, and deeply welcome embrace after the searing heat and deafening chaos of the battle. For a long while, I just sat there, my back pressed against the rough-hewn stone wall, my body screaming with a chorus of aches and pains. The Mana Depletion Sickness was a leaden fog in my head, making coherent thought a struggle. But beneath the exhaustion and the nausea, a fierce, primal satisfaction was taking root.
I had faced a horde. I had faced an enemy spellcaster. I had been outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and cursed. And I had burned them all to ash. The memory of the Shaman's utter disintegration replayed in my mind, not with horror, but with a cold, hard sense of vindication. It wasn't just about XP anymore. It was about dominance. It was about ensuring that nothing in this world would ever make me feel as helpless as Julius Vane had.
Slowly, as the worst of the sickness began to recede, I turned my attention to the most pressing matter: my rewards. The blue screens of the System were a balm to my weary soul.
[You have reached Level 7!]
[You have gained 10 Attribute Points and 2 Skill Points.]
Two levels at once. The XP from the Shaman alone had been more than everything I had earned up to that point combined. It was a clear lesson from the System: greater risk yields exponentially greater rewards. Playing it safe in the cellar would have taken me months to achieve what I had just accomplished in ten minutes of brutal combat.
I pulled up my status screen to take stock before making any decisions.
[CHARACTER STATUS]
Name: Maddox Olivia Morgan
Level: 5
Title: Novice Dishwasher
[ATTRIBUTES]
Strength: 7
Dexterity: 9
Vitality: 8
Intelligence: 17
Wisdom: 12
Health: 80/80
Stamina: 90/90
Mana: 170/170
Unspent Attribute Points: 10
Unspent Skill Points: 2
Seeing my old Level 5 stats was a stark reminder of how much had just changed. Ten attribute points. It was a treasure trove. My fight with the goblins had reinforced my new philosophy. While Intelligence was my core, my survival had depended on Dexterity to dodge and Vitality to endure. The [Enfeeble] curse had shown me just how crippling a debuff could be, and a stronger constitution might have helped resist it.
I allocated my points with a newfound sense of balance.
Intelligence: +5 (Total: 22)
Wisdom: +2 (Total: 14)
Dexterity: +2 (Total: 11)
Vitality: +1 (Total: 9)
The lion's share still went to Intelligence, pushing my primary stat into a new tier of power. My mana pool would be significantly larger, and my spells would hit harder. Two points to Wisdom would improve my mana regeneration and control, making me more efficient. Two points to Dexterity felt like a luxury, a promise to myself that I would be faster, more agile, less likely to get pinned down. And a single, precious point into Vitality, a nod to the arrow that had struck my chest and the curse that had weakened me. It was an investment in resilience.
The moment I confirmed the distribution, I felt the changes cascade through my body. The pounding headache from the mana sickness lessened, as if my brain had suddenly expanded its capacity. My limbs felt lighter, my senses sharper. The aches and pains didn't vanish, but they receded, becoming a dull, manageable background noise.
Next, the skill points. I had two. I opened my skill tree, eager to see what new tools my advancement had unlocked. Reaching Level 7 and having an Intelligence score over 20 had opened up a new branch of my Fire Magic tree.
The first new skill was a passive one, and it made my breath catch in my throat.
[Fire Affinity] (Passive): Your deep connection to the fire element grants you a natural resistance to fire-based attacks and environmental heat. Increases the damage of all Fire spells.
Cost: 1 Skill Point
Prerequisites: Character Level 6, Intelligence 20+.
This was a game-changer. Not just a new spell to cast, but a fundamental upgrade to my entire being. It would make every single one of my spells more potent, and it offered a layer of defense that was invaluable for someone who constantly surrounded herself with flames. I learned it without a second thought. A warm, pleasant sensation spread through me, like sitting by a cozy hearth. The lingering chill of the mine seemed to recede.
For my second point, a new Tier 2 active spell had become available.
[Haste] (Active): Infuse yourself or a target with fire mana, supercharging their physical speed and reflexes for a short duration. Movements become a blur, and reaction times are drastically increased.
Cost: 1 Skill Point
Prerequisites: [Firebolt] Level 5, Character Level 7.
My [Firebolt] skill, after the recent battle, was now Level 7. This new spell was the perfect synergy with my new focus on agility. It wasn't about damage; it was about utility. It was the answer to the sluggishness of the [Enfeeble] curse. It was a panic button, an escape tool, a way to create distance or close it in an instant. The tutorial that flooded my mind showed me how to channel fire mana not as a destructive force, but as a stimulant, flooding my own muscles and nerves with controlled energy. It was a more refined and complex application of [ManaControl] than anything I had attempted before. I learned it immediately.
With my points spent, I looked at my final, glorious status screen.
[CHARACTER STATUS]
Name: Maddox Olivia Morgan
Level: 7
Title: Novice Dishwasher
[ATTRIBUTES]
Strength: 7
Dexterity: 11
Vitality: 9
Intelligence: 22
Wisdom: 14
Health: 90/90
Stamina: 110/110
Mana: 220/220
Unspent Attribute Points: 0
Unspent Skill Points: 0
My mana pool had jumped to a whopping 220. My Health and Stamina were now respectable. The XP needed for Level 8 was daunting, but I felt ready for it. I was stronger, faster, and more versatile than I had been just an hour ago.
Finally, I examined my loot. I pulled the Shaman's staff from where I had propped it against the wall.
[Observe]
[Shaman's Gnarled Staff] (Uncommon)
Type: One-Handed Staff
Requirements: Intelligence 15
Effects:
+2 Intelligence
+10% Potency to Earth and Decay spells.
-10% Mana Cost for Earth and Decay spells.
Description: A staff crudely carved from the root of a Hangman's Tree. It still pulses with a faint, malevolent echo of the goblin shaman who wielded it.
My heart sank a little. It was a powerful item, but completely wrong for me. The Intelligence boost was nice, but the other effects were useless. It was a tool for a necromancer or a druid, not a pyromancer. Still, it was valuable. I could sell it. That thought alone was a revelation. I could earn money not just by serving ale, but by dungeoneering.
Next, the pouch of herbs.
[Observe]
[Pouch of Strange Herbs]
Type: Crafting Material / Alchemical Ingredient
Contents:
[GraveMoss] x3: A key ingredient in minor necromantic rituals and poisons.
[Bloodthistle] x5: A potent stimulant when brewed, but highly addictive.
[StonecapSpore] x2: Can be used to create potions of minor physical resistance.
Description: A collection of foul-smelling herbs gathered by the goblin shaman. Their use is varied, but rarely wholesome.
More vendor trash, as far as I was concerned. But again, valuable to the right person.
Last was the most gruesome item. The Goblin Chief's Ear. The system had misidentified the Shaman as a Chief, it seemed.
[Observe]
[Goblin Chief's Ear]
Type: Quest Item / Proof of Kill
Description: The leathery, pointed ear of a goblin leader. The Adventurer's Guild pays a bounty for proof of eliminating goblin threats near Oakhaven. This is sufficient proof.
This was my ticket. This was how I would get paid. This was how I would turn my secret, dangerous work into legitimate coin. The thought of walking back into the Guild was daunting, especially with the memory of Julius so fresh. But the ear was my key to becoming a real adventurer.
I rested for another hour, eating some of the dried meat and drinking from my waterskin, allowing my mana to slowly regenerate. The mine was quiet. The two goblins that had fled weren't likely to return, but I couldn't be sure. I had to explore the mine, to ensure it was truly clear. It was a matter of prudence. I couldn't have enemies at my back.
With my mana back over halfway, I decided it was time. I held out my hand and cast a gentle, controlled [Ignite]. Not a flash or a blast, but a small, steady flame that danced in my palm, no larger than a candle flame. It was a simple trick, but it was my torch in this oppressive darkness.
The mine was a crude affair. The main tunnel was narrow, with rough walls that still bore the pickaxe marks of the miners who had abandoned it decades ago. The air was stale and heavy with the stench of goblins. The floor was littered with filth, gnawed bones, and broken pottery.
My floating flame cast long, dancing shadows as I advanced. I kept my [SenseHeat] active, pulsing it every few seconds. The rock around me was uniformly cold. There were no warm-blooded signatures ahead.
I found their living quarters first. A larger cavern off the main tunnel, where crude bedrolls of straw and stolen furs were scattered around a central, cold fire pit. The stench here was overwhelming. I used a small [Firebolt] to incinerate the filthy bedding from a distance, cleansing the area with flame.
Deeper in, I found their storage. It was a horrifying chamber filled with cages made of woven branches and bone. Most were empty, but one held the desiccated corpse of a wild boar. This was where they kept their food. The thought of what else might have been kept in these cages made my stomach turn.
Finally, at the very back of the mine, the tunnel opened into a vast, natural cavern. A fissure in the ceiling high above allowed a single, faint shaft of daylight to pierce the gloom, illuminating a truly disturbing scene.
This was the Shaman's chamber. The walls were covered in crude, painted symbols, daubed in what looked disturbingly like dried blood. A large, flat rock served as an altar, stained with dark patches. And at the back of the cavern, nestled in a carefully constructed alcove, was their treasure.
It wasn't a chest of gold. It was a pile of junk. A magpie's nest of stolen goods. There were tarnished silver goblets from some noble's carriage, a rusty but well-made shortsword, a few dozen coins from various kingdoms, and a small, leather-bound book
It was the book that drew my attention. It was old, its cover cracked and worn. I picked it up carefully. The leather was damp and smelled of mildew. I opened it.
The pages were filled with elegant, flowing script, but it wasn't a language I recognized. It was a journal of some kind. But tucked into the back cover, on a separate piece of folded parchment, was a diagram. It was a spell schematic.
[Observe]
[You have discovered a Spell Scroll: [Mana Shield]!]
Type: Spell Scroll (Single Use)
Spell: [ManaShield] (Active): Weave raw mana into a protective, shimmering barrier around the caster. The shield absorbs a fixed amount of incoming damage (both physical and magical) before shattering. The strength of the shield is dependent on the caster's Intelligence.
Requirement to learn: Intelligence 20, Wisdom 15.
Note: This scroll contains a complex arcane formula. A user who meets the requirements may study the scroll to permanently learn the spell. The scroll is consumed in the process.
My heart hammered in my chest. This was treasure. Real treasure. My Wisdom was only 14. I couldn't learn it yet. But I was so close. This was a defensive spell, something my purely offensive arsenal desperately needed. It was a reactive, personal shield, unlike the stationary, tactical [FlameWall]. It could have saved me from the [PebbleShot] or the arrow that had struck me.
I carefully tucked the scroll into my pack. The rest of the loot was secondary, but still useful. The shortsword was better than nothing, and the coins were a welcome bonus. I gathered everything, my pack now significantly heavier.
The mine was clear. The goblin threat was eradicated. My quest was complete.
I made my way back to the entrance. The sun was high in the sky now, and the pillar of smoke from my [FlameWall] had long since dissipated. The battlefield was a grim tableau of blackened earth and goblin corpses. It was a brutal, ugly scene, but it was a testament to my power.
I had a choice to make. I could go back to the city immediately, claim my bounty, sell my loot, and face the potential consequences and the unwanted attention of Julius Vane. Or I could stay here. The mine was a secure, hidden base. I could use it to practice my new spells, to master [Haste], and to prepare for my next excursion.
Prudence won out. Rushing back to the city reeking of battle and ozone, carrying a magic staff and a goblin ear, was asking for trouble. I needed to be clean, calm, and composed when I returned. I would stay the night. I would let my mana fully recover. I would study the [ManaShield] scroll, even if I couldn't learn it yet, and commit its patterns to memory.
I dragged the goblin corpses from the entrance of the ravine, piling them up out of sight and using a few final, efficient blasts of fire to cremate them, removing the evidence and the stench. It was grim work, but necessary.
As dusk began to fall, I sat once more at the entrance of my new, temporary home. The Whisperwood was coming alive with the sounds of the night. But for the first time since arriving in this world, I wasn't afraid of the dark. The dark was afraid of me. I had a home, a training ground, and a purpose. And in my pack, I had the key to my future: a goblin's ear and a page of forgotten magic. Tomorrow, I would return to Oakhaven. Not as a dishwasher, but as a conqueror.