I liked the lake in the middle of this habitat and wondered if I could create something similar. Having an open space with three private houses around a lake in a private dungeon dimension would be fantastic. Grass and trees would add nicely to the peaceful vibe.

With that goal in mind, I turned invisible, flew upward, and spread my mana sense to its fullest. Unfortunately, it didn’t work the way I hoped. I didn't sense a stronger mana concentration coming from any particular direction. My mana sight wasn’t any help either. Inside the habitat, the mana behaved strangely. Usually, outside, colorful wisps and swirling eddies of mana filled the air, creating a vibrant tapestry of dancing colors. But here, the air was oddly clean. It still contained mana, but it was neutral and nearly transparent, lacking any noticeable characteristics.

Still, I wasn’t ready to give up. I flew close to the ground whenever possible, carefully weaving between people and houses. My mana sense stayed extended to the max, my eyes squinting and straining to spot the slightest shift or flicker in the mana. At first, nothing stood out. But slowly, a pattern emerged. At random spots, I noticed tiny disturbances, almost imperceptible ripples. Intrigued, I paused and hovered lower, concentrating even harder.

As I moved around, the subtle ripples became clearer, more defined. It was as if invisible threads gently pulled the mana downward. The effect was so spread out, it nearly escaped my notice, but now I couldn't unsee it. I hovered closer, practically skimming the grass, and felt the mana being gently but continuously drawn into the earth beneath me. It was happening everywhere, evenly distributed across the ground.

Finally, it clicked: the mana in the air lacked distinct aspects because it was steadily absorbed into the ground through a gentle, continuous suction effect. It was subtle, yes, but now unmistakable. Clearly, the core—or perhaps cores—were filtering it. My next step was to find where the cleaned mana reentered the atmosphere, but here I faced an undeniable defeat. No matter how much I strained my mana sense or squinted my eyes, I couldn’t pinpoint specific locations where the mana returned. The only theory I could come up with was that the mana was absorbed, filtered, and released back into the atmosphere at the same spots. This explanation made sense and clarified why the mana concentration wasn't noticeably stronger in those areas, yet it didn't help me find the core or understand the process involved.

I was pretty certain I couldn't just order my house to replicate this effect. Everything in my house relied on runes and blueprints. Even the various shapes it could take depended on the original extensive blueprint, which allowed significant versatility, expansion, and the use of different materials. When I concentrated, I could feel all the enchantments woven throughout the house, and they weren't limited to just the functional systems, like water purification; the entire house was essentially one big magical item, enchanted to the gills and then some.

I planned to ask Mahya for help, but I preferred to gain at least a basic understanding of how it worked before approaching her.

It was growing dark inside the habitat, likely mirroring the conditions outside. It was time to give up on this investigation and face Rue, who would likely have a few choice words about the lack of lunch.

Outside, I could sense Rue's general direction, but couldn't feel Mahya or Al, not as Travelers, nor through the bracelet Malith made for me when I channeled mana into it. By now, I was getting used to this particular quirk. If they were outdoors, even far enough away that I couldn't sense them as Travelers, I could still pick up their general direction and physical condition through the bracelet. But the moment I stepped out of my house or the hotel with them still inside, or if they entered another building, the connection cut off immediately.

I initially thought only the hotel and mall were built around cores, but my recent visit made me reconsider this idea. There was a good chance this entire city was one massive collection of dungeons, or semi-dungeons.

Everything I saw here made it clearer why cores were considered the most valuable commodity in mana worlds. After all, an endless source of energy was priceless, and discovering a 500-year-old core like the one I had in my house opened countless possibilities. Still, the mall and the habitat taught me I'd been thinking too small. Cores were far more versatile and valuable than I'd ever imagined.

I followed Rue's feeling, and it led me to the mall. For once, I was glad the entrance dropped me right at the food court. It saved me from having to wander.

About two hundred meters in, I spotted the gang inside a restaurant. The moment I got close, Mahya visibly relaxed. Her shoulders dropped, jaw unclenched. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “Where did you disappear to? I thought you were still dealing with the swords, but I couldn’t feel you anywhere in the mall.”

“I finished with the swords and went exploring,” I said, sliding into the seat across from her. “Did you, by any chance, enter another building in the city?”

Her brow furrowed. “Yes?”

I sat up straighter, eyes lighting up. “So how come you didn’t say anything? This place is amazing! Just imagine if we could build a habitat like that around my core with three private houses and a big lake in the middle instead of chasing lakes every time winter rolls in.”

She blinked, tilting her head slightly.

“Why the look?” I asked.

Mahya gave me a blank stare. “What lake?”

“Oh,” I said, waving a hand. “I explored one of the habitats, or maybe neighborhoods, they have here. There’s a big lake in the middle, with boats and everything. It might even have fish, but I didn’t check. I want us to build something like that.”

“I’ll need to see it,” she said, still looking skeptical.

“Sure, I’ll take you after dinner.”

The whole time I talked to Mahya, Rue kept nudging his head under my hand, relentlessly demanding ear scratches. I finally gave in and scratched him behind the ears.

“What did you do all day, buddy?”

“We go buy dungeon,” he said, tail thumping against the floor.

“Buy a dungeon?” I frowned, looking up at the others.

Al gave a small nod. “Indeed. They offer several interesting dungeons here. We reviewed the options and registered for one.”

“You have to register?” I stared at him. “Why?”

“These are not wild dungeons as in Zindor,” he explained. “One must register and purchase a slot in order to enter.”

I looked between the two of them like they’d grown extra heads. “You pay to clear dungeons? Shouldn’t they be paying us for the service or something?”

Mahya burst out laughing, shaking her head. “No. The useless ones get collapsed for their cores. The valuable ones stay open, and people pay to access them.”

Al folded his hands neatly on the table. “I have spoken of this before. This is how my ancestor established our royal house. He discovered a cluster of beneficial dungeons and began selling admission.”

“Right, right, I remember now.” I waved it off, eyebrows raised. “Still, the idea of buying a dungeon sounds nuts. But whatever. At least tell me it wasn’t too expensive?”

They both hesitated. Mahya glanced at Al. Al avoided my gaze.

“What?” I narrowed my eyes.

Mahya shrugged. “Depends on what you call ‘not expensive.’”

I leaned forward. “How much did it cost?”

“One mithril,” she said. “Each.”

My jaw dropped. “What?! Are you crazy? Four hundred gold to clear a dungeon?” I stared at the three of them—yes, three, Rue should have stopped them—like they’d completely lost their minds.

Mahya gave my shoulder a light shove. “Don’t look at us like that. We told you you should experience a dungeon here, so we registered for one. Don’t worry, even regular people recoup the cost. And with us able to convert monsters to crystals, we’ll get double or triple the return.”

“It’s not just about the return,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Paying a ridiculous amount just to fight monsters and do someone else a favor? That’s just insane.”

The server came over, and I flipped open the menu. A real one with paper inside a leather cover, just like on Earth. These little familiar details kept messing with me. On one hand, they threw me off, but on the other hand, they made the place feel a bit less alien.

“Are you done with my sword?” Mahya asked, eyes fixed on me across the table.

I shifted in my seat, tugging at the edge of the napkin in front of me.

Her gaze sharpened. “Spill it.”

“I left it with the blacksmith to examine,” I said, trying to sound casual. Her expression darkened immediately. I raised both hands, palms out. “Don’t get so worked up about it. We need to know how it was made so we can craft one for Rue. And remember, I promised that if anything happens to it, I’ll personally get you a new one.”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

She kept staring at me like she was mentally measuring my neck for her hands, but after a tense pause, her shoulders dropped and her face relaxed. She let out a quiet sigh and gave a reluctant nod.

Dinner was solid. A big, juicy Pakpak steak—whatever Pakpak was—served with vegetables and rice. Pretty standard, except the rice was bright orange with black spots. And of course, we had alcohol with it. Still tasted like crap, no matter what we tried, but we got drunk, and that was what mattered. When I woke up in the morning, I had a passing thought that our excitement about finally finding alcohol that actually affected us might end up turning us into alcoholics.

We had breakfast together at the mall, then Al said he had “something” to do and disappeared. Mahya and Rue came with me to check in with Payan and see if she was done with my weapons.

The shop was as deserted again, but I knew how to “call” her to the front. I approached one of the protective formations guarding the weapons on the wall until it pushed me back.

“I will be with you shortly,” Payan called from somewhere in the back.

When she joined us in the front, Mahya leaned in and gave me a little nudge with her elbow. Her eyes slid over to Payan, taking in the woman from head to toe, then snapped back to me with a knowing smirk.

“Oh. I see why you wanted to visit," she said telepathically.

I rolled my eyes. “It has nothing to do with her looks.”

She arched an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say.” She sounded like she was humoring a child

The moment Payan saw me, a bright smile stretched across her face. “Hello, John.”

“Good morning,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “Are you done with the weapons? I want to pay you.”

Mahya groaned in my head. “Seriously? That’s your opener? Straight to business? She’s happy to see you. Ask her how she’s doing. Compliment something. Invite her to dinner. Do I really need to—”

“Oh, shut up,” I cut her off before she could finish the lecture.

Payan’s smile faltered slightly as her eyes shifted between Mahya and me. Rue, who had been sprawled out on the floor, lifted his head and stood. Payan instinctively stepped back.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “That’s Rue, my familiar. He’s just curious.”

She gave a hesitant nod. “If you need the weapons now, of course you can take them. But if not, I’d like to examine them a bit longer.”

“Did you find anything?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, then hesitated again, eyes flicking toward Mahya.

I sighed. “This is Mahya. She’s a friend—and a Magicaneer. She’s also very interested in the weapons. Actually, the sword is hers, not mine.”

Payan’s smile returned, this time with a spark. “Nice to meet you. Your sword is incredible. John didn’t tell me it could fly. Imagine my surprise when I was holding it and it yanked me straight up into the ceiling.”

Oops!

Mahya raised both eyebrows at me. “You didn’t mention that? Why not?”

I looked away. “I forgot.”

They both laughed, and Mahya’s laugh was way too pleased with herself.

“Well,” she added in that sweet telepathic tone that always spelled trouble, “a beautiful woman can make a man forget his name. Forgetting a sword is nothing.”

I didn’t answer. Some things were better left unsaid.

Payan gestured for us to follow and led us to the back of the shop, into the forging area. The moment we stepped in, Mahya forgot I existed. She drifted from one workbench to another, eyes wide, touching tools and examining strange mechanisms like a kid unwrapping presents. Her fingers hovered reverently over a complex set of runic calipers, then moved on to a contraption Payan used to examine my weapons. She seemed to be having the time of her life.

Payan watched her with a smile, then turned to me with a more serious expression.

“What did you find out?” I asked, crossing my arms as I leaned lightly against a nearby worktable.

“I made more progress with the spear,” she said, her voice shifting to a deeper, more deliberate tone. “I can say with certainty that the metal wasn’t imbued with nature mana during the forging process. It’s inherent. The element is part of the metal itself, naturally occurring. I believe the mine it came from is either directly on top of or extremely close to a strong nature mana vent. Over time, the raw ore absorbed it thoroughly. No artificer touched it.”

She walked to a shelf, pulled down the spear, and ran her hand along the shaft with something close to reverence.

“The spells are anchored to the elemental signature of the metal itself,” she continued, eyes distant. “Not added or woven in. It’s an astonishing display of craftsmanship. Whoever did this didn’t fight the aspect, but embraced it, made it the heart of the weapon. I’m still studying how they managed it. Truth be told, I don’t know how they did it yet. But I intend to find out.”

She carefully set the spear aside and picked up the sword, her brow creasing.

“The sword, however, is another story. It refuses to yield its secrets. I’ve confirmed it was a collaborative piece. A master in mana shaping did the forging, and someone else handled the attunement. But how they merged the two without losing integrity is beyond me.”

“Mana shaping?” I asked, pushing off the table to step closer.

She gave me the look. “Yes, like I did with your swords,” she said, with a touch of dry patience. “Although in my case, I used a mold to preserve the outer shape. The rest of the forging was done with my mana. A mold alone isn’t enough to forge a proper weapon.”

She lifted the sword, holding it out in both hands like she was presenting a gift.

“The creator of this sword didn’t just guide the mana. They shaped it completely without any mold or base. The entire forging was done purely through mana control. It’s a highly advanced technique, not just shaping the metal but altering it. Giving it special characteristics far beyond anything I’ve ever managed.”

Mahya stepped closer, her eyes glued to the blade. “The forging gave it the characteristics? Not the material itself?”

“I’ve never come across a metal like this,” Payan said, shaking her head slowly. “So yes, it had to be the forging. The process changed it at a fundamental level. This is more than smithing. This is art, science, and magic fused into one.”

I exchanged a glance with Mahya. We couldn’t exactly tell Payan the sword came from another world, and for all we knew, it might be the metal itself that made it possible to combine with the bird cores. It was a tricky situation. I wanted to understand how it was made, and Payan was clearly my best shot at figuring it out. But if I couldn’t be honest with her, how was she supposed to uncover the truth with half the puzzle missing?

Mahya gave a small shrug, casually brushing her hand along the edge of the workbench. “I hope you figure out more,” she said, then turned to Rue and gave his ear a scratch. “Come on, let’s go shopping.”

She started walking out of the crafting area, her tone light and breezy, but her voice slipped into my head just before she left. “Compliment her, smile, and ask her to dinner, for Spirits’ sake.”

Less than a minute later, Mahya poked her head back in.

“One more thing,” she said, resting a hand on the doorframe. “You can play with my sword today and tomorrow, but I need it back by evening. We’ve got a dungeon run in two days.”

“Which dungeon?” Payan asked.

“Lord of Lightning.” Mahya gave a cheeky little wave, fingers wiggling as she backed out. “Have fun, kids.”

Payan chuckled quietly, watching her leave. Then she turned back to the sword, running her fingers lightly along the fuller. Her expression shifted back to one of focus and thoughtfulness.

“She’s right, you know,” she murmured, not looking up. “About me figuring more out. But it might take a while.”

“I don’t mind waiting,” I said, then winced as the words came out. “I mean—for results. On the sword.”

I scratched the back of my neck, immediately regretting how that sounded.

She glanced at me, one brow arching, but said nothing. Instead, she set the sword gently on the workbench and motioned for me to come closer.

“Look here,” she said, pointing at a faint ripple near the base of the blade. “This distortion? It’s not a flaw. It’s a place where the mana shifted mid-forging. Pulling that off without warping the structure takes incredible control.”

I leaned in and squinted, pretending I could see what she meant. “And that’s... good?”

She gave a soft laugh. “Very good. It’s like watching someone paint with molten light. That level of control is rare. You’re lucky to have this blade, even if you had no idea what you were holding.”

“Yeah,” I said, shoulders slumping a bit. “I seem to collect a lot of things I don’t understand.”

Her expression softened as she looked at me. “That’s not a flaw either. Curiosity’s a kind of wisdom. If you don’t know something, the next best thing is wanting to.”

I nodded slowly, mostly to have something to do. My hands were awkwardly clasped in front of me, then behind my back, then back in front. My brain felt like it was lagging behind. I’d faced monsters, flown through storms, and cast a spell powerful enough to reshape a 500-year-old final boss. For Spirits’ sake, I was married once. I’d been with women before. So why was I standing here, fidgeting like a teenager, because a gorgeous woman talked to me about forging?

Maybe it was how she moved, grounded and sure, like the forge was part of her. Or how her voice dropped when she spoke about her craft, like everything else faded into the background. She had this quiet intensity that just got under my skin. And yeah, she was stunning too. That probably didn’t help.

I cleared my throat again. “You, uh… you really love this, don’t you?”

She tilted her head slightly. “You mean creating imbued weapons?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes. But it’s not just about the forging,” she said. “It’s about creating something that didn’t exist before. You take raw materials, intention, mana, and skill—and you get a blade that can sing through the air or hold a spell like a memory. It’s about making meaning from heat and pressure.”

I blinked. “That’s… actually kind of beautiful.”

A slow smile curved her lips. “See? You can say something nice when you try.”

I gave a weak laugh, rubbing my palms on my pants. “I guess I’m better at awkward conversations and winging it.”

She looked me over, head slightly tilted, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Silence stretched out between us, just long enough to make me shift my weight from one foot to the other. My palms were sweating again. My mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

Come on, John. You rescued Mahya from cyborgs. You helped build an amazing city in a messed-up world. You can handle this.

I cleared my throat, voice cracking just a little. “So, uh… would you maybe want to get dinner with me?”

Payan blinked, visibly surprised, but then her smile returned, slower and a little mischievous.

“You mean as payment for services rendered?”

I rushed to clarify. “Only if that works. Or not. Just dinner. With me. Not... as a client.”

She laughed, warm and easy. “Relax, John. I’d love to.”

I let out a relieved breath. I’d made so much progress over the last few years, but somehow this still felt harder than asking Sophie out for the first time. Wait! Maybe that’s because she asked me out? Yeah, that made more sense. Her saying, “Yes, I’d love to get coffee with you,” after I mumbled something completely incoherent, was probably the only reason we ever ended up on a date in the first place.

“Tonight?” I asked, trying to sound casual and totally failing.

Payan tapped a finger against her chin, thoughtful. “Maybe it would be better after your dungeon run. If I only have today and tomorrow with the sword, I want to make the most of it.”

“Of course, no problem,” I said quickly, nodding like a bobblehead. “I’ll come visit when we’re back.”

I reached into my storage and pulled out three mithril coins, holding them out to her. “I know you said to pay when I get the weapons back, but I’d rather handle it now. One less thing to forget later.”

She hesitated for a second, then accepted the coins with a small nod. “Thank you.”

Her eyes drifted back to the sword on the workbench, like she was physically restraining herself from running over and picking it up again. I got the message.

“Well,” I said, stepping back, “I won’t keep you. Go have fun with your new obsession.”

She gave me a grateful smile and walked me to the door. As soon as I stepped outside, I did a little shimmy.

Behind me, I heard a burst of laughter. Definitely hers.

Oops.

I turned back, caught red-handed mid-wiggle.

She leaned against the doorway, grinning with a warm, almost fond expression.

Phew.

She didn’t think I was an idiot. Or at least, she thought I was the charming kind of idiot. I’d take it.