Hot damn. Rory thought to himself as he watched Apostolos finish off the Spider Patriarch. The boy has been putting in some serious work.

  Rory already knew that. He’d seen Apostolos head off alone for years to work on himself. Still, it was the first time he’d gotten to see it firsthand.

  Hmm. Maybe Apostolos does have a point that I should work on myself more.

  That said, Rory had… ideas for that. Still, they were nothing more than floating concepts rather than concrete plans for the time.

  “Not bad. I’d give it a… six out of ten.” Rory said, watching as Apostolos yanked his new weapon free.

  “Not even a seven?”

  “Ehh. You could have been flashier. No ribbons or fireworks.” Rory retorted, holding back a snort.

  Entering the cave proper now that the monster was dead, Rory began to speak as he pointed out something that had caused him to wince earlier in the fight.

  “Word of advice,” Rory said. “Please don’t go doing that vault all the time. That gem is grown from pure pneuma, but it’s not unbreakable, and I’d rather not have to replace it every two days. Or, at the very least, don’t slam it down on stone.”

  A one thousand convergence point gem had been hell to make, taking the same pneuma-grown crystal concept and applying it to gem crafting. When they exploded, they tended to really explode. They were more potent than their old crystals but far less stable if even one mistake was made.

  Thoughts of the metaphorical and physical pains of making the gem were tossed aside as Apostolos spoke up.

  “Oh, right, sorry,” Apostolos said sheepishly, looking at the crystal spike at the end of the scythe. “Wait, won’t the repair function fix it up?”

  “No, the repairs only work toward the actual weapon itself; that gem there is a slotted gem meant to focus the entire thing into a cohesive unit, but it’s not itself a ‘part’ of the weapon.”

  Rory watched Apostolos for several moments, the young man enjoying his victory. Unable to deny his curiosity any longer, Rory asked the question that had been burning in his mind.

  “So, what did you think of it?” Rory said, gesturing to the scythe.

  The young man was silent, giving the question more consideration than Rory had expected from him.

  “It’s a worthy weapon.”

  “Ego much?” Rory raised his eyebrows, smirking. “I didn’t realize you were so great that only a Rare grade weapon would be worthy of you.”

  Rory knew what Apostolos really meant; it was a feeling he shared. It was an item that transcended everything else they’d ever made or used. Calling it ‘great’ or ‘beautiful’ simply didn’t do it justice.

  Not that Rory was going to miss a chance to rib his apprentice.

  “No, that’s not what I meant,” Apostolos instantly spoke up, looking sheepish. “What I mean is-”

  “Save it,” Rory snorted, the response everything he’d hoped for. “I was messing with you, kid. I know what you mean.”

  “Oh, right.” Apostolos nodded perhaps too vigorously. “Um, now that the Spider Patriarch is dead, I was wondering…”

  “About the full clear rewards?” Rory said, glancing at the slowly pulsing notification in the corner of his vision. “Yeah, it’s right here.”

  “Really?” Apostolos asked.

  “Yeah, why would I be lying,” Rory chuckled. “It’s just a matter of seeing what it is…”

  Holding his breath, Rory mentally tapped on the notification as his interface sprang open.

  Challenge Area cleared: The Maw-Level Two

  Loot Table(s) earned

  Boss Slain (X)

  Boss Slain+ 20% Floor clearance (X)

  Boss Slain+ 40% Floor clearance (X)

  Boss Slain+ 60% Floor clearance (X)

  Boss Slain+ 80% Floor clearance (X)

  Boss Slain+ 100% Floor clearance (-) à (X)

  Open rewards: Y/N?

  Of course, I want to open the last reward.

  Still holding his breath, Rory watched with bated breath as a wheel spun until a new notification appeared.

  Loot Table reward obtained: Maw Floors (1-2) claimed under Territory ownership. Resource extraction enabled.

  What the hell?

  Rory didn’t need to open additional interfaces as he felt the shift. Just like the feeling he had about the land around his settlement, the instinctive knowledge that it was his to do what he pleased with, Rory suddenly felt the same toward the entirety of the first two floors of the Maw. While the first floor wasn’t expansive, the second covered miles of caves.

  And it was all his.

  “Wow, master, take a look at this.”

  Apostolos flicked something over to Rory, his map of the second floor. Interestingly, nodes had appeared throughout the map, and images of tiny pickaxes were sporadically scattered.

  It was his turn to share, and Rory sent the notification of the full clear reward to Apostolos.

  “Wow,” Apostolos said, “So, what does that do?”

  “I’m not quite certain yet,” Rory said. “But, if I had to guess, it means that hidden resources on this floor have become available. Also, I sense I can shift the layout around, though, not to a crazy degree.”

  “Should we investigate?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Rory said with a shrug.

  Beginning to head toward the closest hidden resource cache, Rory mentally flicked an ounce of his will as hundreds of meandering dead ends began to seal themselves off, joining the rest of the stone surrounding them.

  Oh. That’s weird. I can use that reclaimed space to shape more of the floor.

  For the time being, Rory intended to leave it as is now that he’d cut off any useless dead ends.

  Actually.

  Flexing his will once more, several of the overly meandering tunnels straightened out, gaining him even more space to use in the future.

  Nifty. I’m not sure for what, but it’s nifty.

  Only a minute or two after walking, the duo entered a cave filled with moss and a knee-deep bog.

  “Bleh. I remember this room. The swarm of blood leaches and poison toads.”

  Rory smiled at the memory. The blood leaches had sucked for Apostolos.

  That was a good pun, and I don’t care if Apostolos didn’t find it funny.

  For Rory, they’d barely been an inconvenience; his blood affinity seemed to shield his blood from manipulation or drainage in the case of leaches.

  The poison toads had been another story, yet they’d cleared it all the same.

  It appeared nearly identical since the last time he’d entered this cave, even if it had been some time.

  The keyword was nearly, which was not the same as exactly.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Throughout the expansive cave, stalagmites had risen from the bog waters, radiating a sense of potential. Approaching one, Rory crouched as he examined it.

  Concentrated Peat

  Quality: Common

  A concentrated fusion of peat that has solidified into a rock-like formation. It may be harnessed for temporary large energy yield combustion or conversion. Furthermore, it contains significant traces of Earth, Liquid, Decay, and Plant Essence.

  “Nifty,” Rory muttered, standing up and brushing himself off. Looking around, it was evident that there was a lot of the stuff. It wasn’t single-handedly the most significant resource he’d ever found, yet that didn’t lessen the fact that he suddenly had access to quite a large amount of it.

  And this was only one room.

  It was unlikely any of the stuff would be rare grade on only the second floor, and it wasn’t as if anyone else could snatch it all up, so Rory felt satisfied with what he’d seen.

  “Alright, let’s head back.”

  “Already? You don’t want to investigate the rest of the rooms?”

  “In time,” Rory replied. “For now, I want to return to camp, examine your scythe, and ensure everything looks good.”

  “Boring,” Apostolos stuck his tongue out at Rory, only for Rory to return the favor by flipping him the bird.

  Making their way to the boss’s room, Rory was met with one other surprise. In the platform’s direct center, a pedestal appeared with what looked to be a page of paper laid upon it. Curious, Rory quickly approached. Staring down at the page, all Rory seemed to make out was a mass of indecipherable scribbles. Squinting harder, Rory flared his cognition boost from his eye skill, the same way he would make out the convergence points on a gem.

  Instantly, a searing pain erupted in his brain, which passed just as quickly as it appeared. At the same time, the page burnt up as the pedestal sank back into the platform like a sandcastle washed away in the sea.

  “Uh, master, are you alright?” Apostolos asked, worried.

  “Yeah… I’m fine.” Rory nodded. “Just… huh? Oh? Now that’s interesting.”

  “What’s interesting?” Apostolos asked, face flickering between concern and tepid excitement.

  “I think I just learned how to make a Spatial Doorway.”

  “A what?” Apostolos questioned, confused.

  “A pathway through space. Oh, that is weird.” Rory said, rubbing his temples. He wasn’t in pain, but it wasn’t as if he felt perfectly swell. “It’s like when you learn something from a skill, just… worse.”

  Bonus Reward: For being the first to clear at least 10% of a Delve, gain a bonus reward.

  Reward: Knowledge of spatial manipulation

  “What does that even do?” Apostolos stared at Rory as if he were about to burst into flames.

  “I… I can set up a doorway between the Maw and our camp. No more walking necessary.”

  “Oh, seriously?”

  “Maybe… Yeah, I definitely can.” Rory nodded to himself. “Though, it will take access to some rather… complex materials. So, a future project.”

  “Cool.” That was all Apostolos said, seemingly content. “Time to go then?”

  “Yeah, time to go.”

  Rory was, all things considered, feeling great.

  Sure, he still was sour from his loss to the Chosen Bane, the Architect Bane. That wouldn’t change for some time.

  Yet, he wouldn’t let that hold him down. He’d say things were going great if it weren’t for that fact.

  Apostolos clearly loved his new weapon, even if the young man had mixed feelings about catching up to Rory soon.

  Oh, Rory understood what the young man was grappling with. After years of raising the kid, the young man was like an open book for Rory to read. Rory wanted the young man to be forced to confront such complicated feelings. It was essential for the development of youth to tackle complex feelings from time to time, and being alone with just Rory for company gave the young man very little in the way of places to find such learning moments.

  Therefore, as much as Apostolos struggled with the implication of catching up to Rory, Rory let him struggle with those feelings.

  Specifically, he’d made it a point not to tell the young man that while the War-Scythe had become a massive boost to Apostolos’s power, it wasn’t as if Rory hadn’t benefitted either.

  As for how?

  “Poor kid,” Rory snickered, Apostolos off into the forest again. “If only he knew.”

  An interface was open, and staring back at him was his third Testament unlocked in under ten years—the reward for crafting his first rare-grade item.

  In retrospect, his third Testament would likely be the first Testament most crafting types unlocked. His first two had relied on creating something truly unique—which Eon counted for—and obtaining two skills of at least Extreme rarity. Neither of which most people would ordinarily unlock for a long, long time.

  Yet Rory did his best to hide his amusement whenever Apostolos was around, letting the poor kid continue to fail at hiding the pity in his eyes.

  “He thinks he does a better job at hiding it than he does,” Rory snickered once more. The young man was well-meaning, yet, once more, Rory had been raising him for a decade; he could read his tells like the back of his hand.

  Quandaries of Apostolos’s continually growing independence aside, Rory lounged in front of their campfire -the favorite, albeit only, rest spot of the camp- as he looked through his skill list. He already knew what skill his third Testament would be, but it was better to double-check if anything caught his eye.

  When nothing did, Rory slotted one of his oldest skills into the third pillar. While it was indeed one of his oldest skills, if not the oldest, it had undergone more changes and permutations than any other skill, even those that had received evolutions through his other two testaments.

  The former Eye for Potential, now Eyes of the Dokkalfar-kin, and soon to be something else entirely. Trying something different than the last two times a skill had been changed through the automatic evolution caused by a Testament, Rory locked down on an idea, a direction for how he wished the skill to change rather than whatever random change it would typically undergo. Rory felt the skill respond as if they’d always been willing to listen to his wishes for their growth. It was just that Rory had never given them directions; thus, they’d gone in the route of least resistance.

  Eyes of the Dokkalfar-kin

  Rarity: Rare. Skill Level: Experienced

  A scholarly eye that peers into the world’s mysteries and another that sees the potential within all things. When brought together, they form the eyes of the Dokkalfar. While not of the Dokkalfar, one may become like their kin by obtaining their sight. Grants three stages of ocular release. Stage one allows one to either see through the darkest of nights, perceive the world’s potential, or enhance one’s understanding of whatever they lay eyes upon. Stage two allows for semi-perfect ocular release, allowing dual ocular effects. Stage three provides full ocular release, enabling all three effects to be used in tandem. Mental strain increases with each stage of ocular release.

  Ocular releases: Potential Recognition, Cognition Amplification, Luster Capture

  -->

  Eyes of the Architect

  Rarity: Rare (+) Skill Level: Experienced

  Few see the world in the ways an Architect does. You are one of the rare few. No obstruction may block your gaze, no hint of excellence shall be ignored, no magicks unseen, nor will your mind ever slow. Such visions are all but natural, heavily reducing mental strain—a passive, strain-free minor effect also gained.

  Ocular releases: True Sight, Oculus Potentia, Magick Survey, Cognition Amplification

  “Perfect,” Rory rubbed his hands together. He wasn’t shocked that the skill had evolved instantly. He’d used his old eye skills—whatever iteration they were—so much that they were his most used and practiced skill by a landslide.

  His main goal in evolving his eye skill into Eyes of the Architect was to reduce the strain that using it would inflict upon himself. After the backlash of overstraining himself using it in tandem with an outward projection of his mental space, Rory had zero intention of repeating it. Reducing the cognitive strain was already a passing grade, but gaining a constant, passive effect from the skill was also beneficial. The inclusion of the ‘magick survey’ was likely a result of his work with gem-crafting; he’d practiced the skill of seeing through the purely material and spotting what existed at a far more metaphysical level. The night vision had evolved into a straight-up omni-vision effect. It would take further testing, but Rory suspected neither fog, smoke, nor dust would hinder his sight going forward.

  Overall, it was a magnificent growth in the skill, in precisely the directions he most wanted. No matter how he used it in the future, he was confident any and every project would be made all the easier for its growth.

  Well, maybe not his next few.

  Not because it was beyond the skill. In fact, it was the opposite; they were so straightforward that he didn’t need the skill for them. First, he intended to make a pulverizer. A chute with rotating blades and crushing pistons, anything dropped within would be reduced to little more than gravel and dust. No more would Rory have to pulverize stones into dust with a sledgehammer himself.

  After that, he wanted to make a gravel sifter and washer. Any gravel or resource dumped in would be sifted, and any remaining impurities would hopefully be removed in the washer phase. A glorified sift and power washer.

  Third would be a pulper; anything fibrous or organic could be dumped in, where it would be shredded, smashed, and ultimately pulped.

  Finally, a mixer. It was about as basic as a machine could get: a spinning bucket mixing and blending the contents.

  All of them were about as simple as one could get. Yet, they hadn’t been possible until he’d integrated the energy grid and finished work on his Stellar Forge. Once they were up and running, Rory intended to bring their camp up to more modern standards.

  Or, more accurately speaking, pre-historic standards.

  Eh, semantics.

  It was a good thing, then, that they’d finally acquired the final reward of the second floor of the Maw. All those resources would make it easier to get a hold of everything he’d need, given they had nearly depleted what remained of freely abundant enriched iron within the first and second floor of the Maw.

  Floor two of twenty.

  For a moment, Rory mused on the recent discoveries about the Maw.

  First, it was considered a Delve, whatever that may be.

  Second, clearing the second floor amounted to ten percent of the Maw. Simple math would, therefore, suggest twenty floors in total.

  A lofty goal for the future.

  I wonder if conquering it will grant a Major Accolade?

  Thoughts drifting once more, Rory considered the recent establishment of Accolades, of which he had two minor accolades. Thanks to several helpful little informational pop-ups, Rory had come to learn that he could afford two skill alterations. It sounded a lot like what testaments did, yet Rory did not doubt that the skill alterations were likely far weaker and smaller in scope.

  More interesting than the skill alterations was that with two minor accolades, he could afford an entire skill as well. He’d perused the list; most were extremely basic, and unfortunately, every combat skill had been greyed out.

  There was one skill he’d noticed that had caught his eye.

  Ghost Image

  You may project any image you’ve seen as a ghostly replica.

  It was short, sweet, and to the point.

  And it was precisely what Rory suspected would be necessary for his burgeoning idea, which would be a foray into the science of skill augmentation, creation, and evolution.

  But, for the time being, he didn’t need it, so Rory ignored it.

  Eventually, but not today.

  Focusing back on the now, Rory considered the roadmap he’d set out for Apostolos. Step one of the three-step roadmap, Offense, was well underway; Apostolos was off on a rampage, hunting down stronger monsters to reach tier six, now with his trusty scythe in hand.

  Step two, Industry, would begin shortly. He just needed to haul over the metric shit ton of their newly gained resources from the Maw.

  Step three would begin afterward, bringing the entirety of their settlement up to code. Hell, with the power of Industry, he could probably finally expand their camp outward without wasting time and resources. Once it had been modernized, rather than flimsy wood walls -even if it were bloodwood- and a terracotta-like shell, they would become mighty beasts of heavy earth elements and metal. Dominating them would be turrets that could defend their interests so that never again could they be so easily assaulted from within their home.

  It wasn’t just the Chosen Bane that Rory was thinking and planning around.

  It was the other Founders.

  Even amongst the furthest ahead Founders, none should have reached even halfway through tier-six, but time flew like an arrow. Tier seven was only a few short decades away, after which the chance of other founders beginning to trek their wide world would significantly increase. Rory doubted he was that unique in the things he had accomplished, maybe not in the exact same vein as he, but Rory knew in his heart of hearts that the others were likely off accomplishing just as amazing things. It wouldn’t be long before their world would begin to feel much smaller.

  Hell, it wouldn’t be long before he began pushing further outward. His recent acquisition of knowledge of spatial travel was both a boon and forewarning.

  Their world of utter isolationism would end in only a few short decades.

  For better or worse.

  minimum. As a side note, I've never been a massive fan of the trope "It takes 5,000 years to reach level 10, but the MC did it in 5 years," as it feels way too forced. Being ahead of the curve is fine, but the 100x speed you sometimes see feels silly to me, like those authors went, "Oh whoops, I don't want to grapple with a story that spans hundreds if not thousands of years or more." There are ways to write around it, but in general, I don't like too much MC exceptionalism to the point of making you question why no one else ever advances as fast (Unless they've got a cheat skill, but you're not going to be finding many of those in Universe's End, not without significant trade-offs at least)