While moving as fast as I can, I connect with the earth behind me, feel it, speak the spell aloud, and raise a wall of earth, against which the incoming bolts—those I haven't dodged—begin to crash.

I allow myself a few seconds to catch my breath.

Fortunately, I'm a runner.

That wasn't fun. I should've applied an earth channeling to my skin to boost my defenses. Well, no need now.

I shrug and cast earth control, opening small slits in the wall—like the arrow loops of a medieval castle—through which I can shoot safely.

It's worth noting that the earth wall is an evolved form of the earth control spell. Once I create it, I can't modify it anymore. However, as long as it remains earth or hardened earth, and not stone, I can still use earth control—which only costs one mana point—to shape it in simple ways, like these arrow loops. And how long does my control last? As long as I need to fulfill the intent I had when I cast it.

Once I'm protected and have a clear line of fire, the rest is a breeze. I take them down one by one while my wall absorbs their attacks. It starts to crack as the damage builds up, and since I am not sure it will hold, I apply earth channeling to reinforce it. Here I'm left with zero mana points and, since I need to channel fire onto the quiver with the arrows again, I ask the puppy for his second healing lick.

I don't land every shot on the first try, but I hit most of them. I'm pretty proud—definitely making progress. Plus, another one of the arrows explodes. I don't know what the actual probability of that happening is, but this time it was 2 out of 11—not bad at all.

By the time I finish, Tom has already taken down his golem, and Ronan, his zombies (the bear joined at some point too), and the seed have also wrapped things up.

I smile.

"Did you level up?" I ask the little wolf, excited, as I hold out my arms.

He leaps up and starts barking and licking my face like a genuinely innocent and playful puppy.

And his breath doesn't even smell bad—because those bats weren't zombie bears like the ones from that insanely difficult dungeon.

Nice.

I pet him and ask him to share his stat sheet. Sixty bats—no less—and I imagine Ronan let him have the majority of them.

I look, thrilled, and... YES!!!

The pup is now level six and already 2% of the way toward level 7.

Awesome.

I have no way of knowing exactly how many bats he killed. Depending on the number, they must have given him 3 or 4 experience points each.

Seed of darkness. Level 6.

Progress toward level 7: 2%

Constitution: 15

Strength: 13

Intelligence: 9

Agility: 9

Wisdom: 6

Health Points: 15

Mana Points: 6

Skills:

Not available

Spells:

Healing Lick initiated level: restores half of the future Dark Lord's maximum HP and MP. Not applicable to itself or other targets that aren't the future Dark Lord or the Dark Lord. Cost: 1 MP. Restriction: Can only be used a maximum of 2 times every 24 hours.

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Not available

Not available

I'm thrilled about the dark seed leveling up, and I imagine Ronan is just as pleased with his new toys, because he's in the middle of raising the other eight golems—the larger ones. As for the bats, he reanimates two as zombies and nine as skeletons. According to what he told me before, the latter cost him less mana.

"Wouldn't it be better to raise them as zombies?" I nod toward the skeletal bats. "That way you'd keep that spiked frost armor they had in the spots where they hit when they dove in with their impact attack. You lose that when they're just skeletons," I point out, since indeed, the skeletal bats are nothing but bones.

I assume at least they still keep their bite attack and the disorientation effect.

"The problem is mana, my lady. I have used it all up again, and I do not have that many potions left. In fact, this might be a good place to set up camp for the night, so I can recover."

"The dungeon creatures don't respawn while we're here, right?"

"No."

Great. I really wouldn't want to wake up in the middle of a swarm of sixty living, hostile bats.

"What about those idiotic third-year students? What if they come and catch us sleeping?" I ask.

"Since they did not show up today, I imagine they will come early tomorrow. I saved one potion just for them. If you agree, there is a certain bear that, although I contacted its soul when I tried to animate it, I lacked mana to finish raising it up. Now I have a greater mana pool. This cave is large enough for him. I do not think they will come while we are asleep, but it would not hurt to leave him on watch."

"But you already brought your giant bear to the dung... oh!" I exclaim as I realize what he means. He's talking about the other bear—the massive, monstrous king of the area now inhabited by the goblins. "That bear?" I repeat, emphasizing "that" with as much incredulity as I can muster.

"Yes, my lady."

"Go ahead."

I take several steps back to give him space. Ronan drinks a mana potion significantly larger than the ones I'm given during my afternoon training sessions at the academy. Then, he reaches into another pouch—not the small one on his belt, but a larger bag slung at his hip and partially concealed beneath his cloak. He withdraws a tooth so enormous it could never have fit into the smaller pouch where he kept the golem core. He carefully places the tooth on the ground and begins casting his spell.

The visual effects mirror what I witnessed in the desert dungeon. Dark magic never ceases to amaze me—beyond making your heart clench as if trapped in a horror movie, it has a solemnity that makes you feel like you are witnessing something undeniably beautiful.

In this case, Ronan's words resonate deep in my bones. Though darkness isn't my element, I still feel its raw power. His aura intensifies, gathering in his hand until, when he releases it toward the tooth on the ground, the resulting pool of moonless night—that velvety absence of light—appears larger, deeper, more unfathomable than before.

For a moment, before the first claw of the undead bear king emerges from what looks like a gateway to the other side, I feel eternity staring into my eyes. It's as if a thousand galaxies, collapsing and expanding through the unfathomable dark of the void, have recognized my existence.

I shiver involuntarily.

As the enormous zombie continues to emerge from the darkness, I retreat several more steps, giving the creature ample space to materialize.

This is not my element, and yet I feel no fear, no revulsion; it's more like an echo in my soul—something ancient within me that longs to look back into that eternity.

I shake my head and focus.

The creature is now fully out, and the ground is once again frozen stone. Without a doubt, the bear is colossal. It fits in the cave, yes, but if it rises onto its hind legs, I'm not sure it wouldn't hit the ceiling with its head.

Ronan approaches his creation with gentle words, stroking the matted fur atop its massive head. The undead bear king lowers itself, pressing its skull against the ground to accommodate its master's touch. From deep within its cavernous chest comes a rumbling sound—not threatening as one might expect, but oddly peaceful, like distant thunder on a summer night.

I listen as Ronan gives the bear precise instructions to stay near the entrance and, if anyone comes, to intimidate them into turning back, as if it were just another dungeon creature.

Oh geez! If this undead behemoth were actually the first floor boss—which this dungeon doesn't even have—they would definitely need to recalculate the dungeon's difficulty rank. One look at this massive undead would send most adventuring parties fleeing for their lives.

Seeing that the pup has some wounds—little more than scratches—I consider whether to cast heal on him. On Tom, obviously not, since he's undead. Before using the spell, I walk over to Ronan to check on him up close. Since he is covered by his cloak, I cannot tell whether he is injured.

"Ronan, did any of the bats bite or wound your legs?" I ask, since his zombie golems didn't cover him there, nor around the waist and part of his chest.

"Yes, but I will heal as I rest."

"Allow me to ease your pain a little and make the recovery smoother."

And it's a good chance to practice healing with real wounds on a teammate. I would say the spell must be close to leveling up by now.

"It is not necessary, my lady; but thank you very much."

I cast the spell and… yes!

Healing a wounded ally definitely does the trick.

Congratulations. Your spell Minor Healing has leveled up. It is now Low Healing.

Low Healing: restores up to three health points to the target. Cannot be used more than once every 24 hours. Does not resurrect and does not regenerate lost limbs.

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