I had no use for slime cores. They were typically used for alchemy or homunculus creation, none of which I had talent for, or in Anabeth’s case, summoning. Common slime cores were cheap and required me to bring jars along to store, which made them meaningless for me.

  However, there was one thing that was worth the time: the skills and the knowledge. With all the skills I had gathered from this encounter, I could easily farm another Slime dungeon and gain a week’s worth of payment for a fraction of the time. Then came the knowledge that I could actually do this now; I could actually clear a Tier II Slime dungeon whenever I want, gain however much EXP I want, and I would level up until I eventually outgrow all these meager creatures.

  After the Slime King dissolved into a shimmering puddle of residual aether, the cores coalesced from the ambient magic, slowly forming in midair like miniature orbs of condensed essence. Sometimes, like today, they’d form in the shape of a loot chest. It was always a little eerie, watching them stabilize and float before your eyes, reminding you that even in death, monsters left behind traces of themselves in the aether. But then I stopped feeling bad. A few hours from now, another Slime King would bubble up from the dungeon floor, wobbling and gurgling, ready to be flattened all over again. Their ‘death’ was just a brief pause in an endless cycle.

  While I was still mentally cataloging the fight and the dubious value of my EXP, Anabeth had already moved closer to the floating cores. She carefully extended her hands, letting the aetheric essence swirl around her fingers before gently coaxing the common slime cores into small containment spheres. Then, she floated each sphere into the jars she’d brought along.

  I could only stare at her. She could have just used magic to hold them all at once, no jars necessary, but no, she had packed half a pantry of glassware for a single dungeon run.

  “Excellent!” She clasped her hands together once more. “With this many samples, I can produce as many as three Stone Golems, if luck allows it. Maybe we could enter another dungeon soon, if it is not too much of a hassle for you, Sir. Dungeon venturing seemed a less complicated matter than I had anticipated.”

  Three Stone Golems. After all that work, three. Magic’s cruel arithmetic.

  I finally tore my eyes away from Anabeth and turned toward the loot chest. This King Slime dropped a rare item, which meant this was at least a Low Tier II dungeon. Whatever in the chest would fetch me much more than the measly 420 Kohns I’d gotten from the pawnshop in Dunswell.

  I picked up the first item, weighing it in my hand.

  I was excited when I saw RES boosts, only to find out it would do absolutely nothing useful for actually operating magical artifacts. The only magic I had ever seen Knights employ were weapon enchantments and weapon reinforcement.

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  I supposed this item wasn’t made for me. It was to be utilized by Aetheric Engineers for whatever it was that Engineers did.

  The next piece was smaller and oddly angular. Etched into it was a whimsical little figure—a stickman riding a snail, or at least that’s what it looked like to my tired eyes. I thought that since these were stones and they obviously had carvings on them, they would give me Tasks. But apparently if they didn’t glow, they didn’t count.

  Chance.

  Moving on.

  The final piece was tucked into a corner of the chest. I picked it up carefully. It was a small dagger, no longer than my forearm, and its blade was... slimy. Etched along the fuller were more runes, of course. I wondered if you could ever wash away the slime from the thing, or did it just excrete more slime the longer you hold it.

  This was a Rare item? It looked like rubbish. Maybe it was because the aetheric channel was dormant.

  But I know what these items would be worth for: money. Lots of money. The money I could use to buy food and actual upgrades.

  Part of me wanted to slip the stones and dagger into my satchel and quietly sell them off. But then another part of me reminded me: my code strongly advised against obfuscation.

  I’d already lied too much to survive this dungeon. To keep this information for myself, knowing full well I could, would be hypocrisy squared. But I had been in danger before, and options were limited. Now, I had one chance to be truthful without being cornered.

  I approached Anabeth with the three items in hand. Her eyes lit up immediately, and she leaned in, examining the stones first. “Look at your loot! These are indeed highly aetherically saturated rare quartz.” Then she tilted her head and asked, casual but curious, “And what are you going to do with them?”

  I hesitated only for a heartbeat before answering truthfully. ‘I’ll sell them.’

  “I will contribute to the local economy,” I actually declared, “through the judicious deployment of these assets. Merchants shall know the weight of my purse, and coins shall flow as rivers from the coffers of fools who undervalue rare and magical artifacts. Let none doubt that the acquisition of such wealth is a matter not merely of survival, but of... inevitability.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Ah, of course. You intend to expend the proceeds of this dungeon to buy the only Aetheric Profile Mapping Matrix in all of Dunswell, am I correct? So that I cannot ascertain your aetheric signature personally.”

  ‘Aetheric Profile Mapping Matrix?’ I wanted to ask.

  “EXPLAIN NOW,” I actually said. “THIS IS A TEST OF YOUR KNOWLEDGE. WHAT IS AN ‘AETHERIC PROFILE MAPPING MATRIX’?”

  “Oh, it is quite splendid, really. The Aetheric Profile Mapping Matrix, you see, is a most ingenious contraption. It charts an individual’s aetheric signature with exquisite precision, revealing the full spectrum of magical potential one might possess. Since I lack the capability to determine your profile, I can simply purchase one such matrix from the high magus fully capable of such appraisal. Simply marvelous, isn’t it?”

  That... was ridiculous. And perfect. Just what I needed to complete the ongoing task.

  “Unfortunately, each matrix would cost north of a thousand Kohns,” she said.

  Never mind. I didn’t need it anymore.

  “But of course,” she continued, eyes sparkling, “given the extraordinary difficulty of crafting such a device and the meticulous precision required in its calibration, only a handful of Aetheric Profile Mapping Matrices exist at any given time. And the demand is quite formidable. Wealthy families clamor for them to determine the aetheric aptitude of their children before the next enrollment season at the premier magical academies. You see, you see!” She waved a finger around. “Some would pay a king’s ransom simply to ensure their progeny are placed in the most advantageous curriculum.”

  I stared at my Aetheric Point attribute.

  Technically, I wasn’t aetherless. Three drops of aether coursed through me. Ceralis had already guided me through challenges I could never have survived on my own. Each boon had been net positive. Surely it didn’t point me toward my aetheric profile just for it to amount to nothing.

  I turned back to Anabeth and declared, “I shall see that these spoils are sold and the Aetheric Profile Mapping Matrix acquired now.”