In the end, Chip and Thalia settled on a pair of rituals that would interfere with each other the least. Considering one was a work of holy magic and the other was technically necromancy, the two spells would naturally weaken each other, but only if they came into contact.

  Lindle had never seen a Polarian ceremony in person before, and he had come back to watch with his Ethos sense active, wanting to observe as much as he could. After Chip had given his permission, Lindle had seated himself as close as he could in the snow.

  Chip had set a series of wooden stakes around the wellspring, muttering a small phrase as he planted each one in a foreign language. Lindle watched as a small piece of the energy suffusing the cleric's Ethos shot from his body and into the wood as he finished speaking each phrase. Lindle hadn’t ever seen someone's Ethos change so actively before, each tiny flame of personal Ethos from Chip transforming from a piece of him to only embody a few select aspects he was coming to identify as holy. The stakes weren’t inherently magical the same way most of the things Lindle used to craft were. He didn’t feel like he could extract Pelos from it. It was more like Chip had somehow extracted a piece of their own Ethos that was composed of only holy aspects and put them inside the wood.

  Chip probably wasn’t directly extracting their Ethos. Most likely, he was just extracting some kind of holy energy from himself to sanctify the stakes, and Lindle could just see only the Ethos representing it get carried along. Still, it was the closest thing to it he had seen. It was hard to tell if what he had given diminished his flame at all, but whatever he had given was likely quickly refilled by his divine connection.

  Once Chip had finished setting up the stakes, he knelt in front of the cave, hands raised upward, and began a much longer prayer in the same language. As he chanted, Lindle could see holy aspected Ethos fill the area Chip had encircled, not coming from him, but filling the area from seemingly nowhere. It was dense and heavy, but it felt ephemeral, like the Ethos was only partially there. Where the holy Ethos met the undeath aspected Ethos, the much denser holy Ethos annihilated it. Several minutes later, holy energy had completely filled the circle, Chip drew his hands downward, and like water at the bottom of a drain, the holy Ethos rushed down into the cave, leaving the area outside mostly clear.

  Afterward, it was Thalia’s turn, and she started scattering mushrooms everywhere. Her ritual didn’t look very different from the one Lindle had seen before, a growing mass of brown and white mushrooms as large as he was filling the cave and then spreading out across the area, but Thalia told him later that the ritual would work on a delayed timer, mostly drawing on the ambient miasma that had hung in the air and plants outside of Chip’s circle before going for what was left of the wellspring itself later, waiting until Chip’s ritual ran out of holy energy.

  Seeing both rituals back to back had been fascinating, the two spells having more in common than Lindle had expected. Both had involved the caster designating an area before drawing on some sort of natural or outside energy and using the properties of that energy to achieve their desired effect. Lindle got the impression Chip’s ritual, in particular, had been some sort of signal to his goddess.

  Holy Ethos had been interesting as well. Lindle admittedly hadn’t ever encountered any inherently holy materials the same way he had encountered Ethos with ice or healing aspects in herbs or monster parts. He didn’t know if this was the only state it could be found or even if it was exclusive to it, but holy Ethos seemed able to exist in a strange kind of middleground between active Ethos found in magical materials and the personal Ethos he had seen in people.

  Still, Lindle couldn’t sit in his thoughts all day as night was about to hit them. He didn’t want to freeze into a statue. Once Thalia and Chip had finished, everyone else joined them, having thoroughly cleared the area of any remaining undead. Making their way back to camp, everyone was fairly exhausted. After a late dinner of rations, they readied themselves for bed. Setting up their tents, Chip summoned the same holy fire spell he had used all those months ago, a soothing warmth from the golden flames washing over them all, keeping the camp comfortable.

  Lindle had some fun constructing a small nest for Notwick, who had protested slightly that they didn’t need to sleep, thanks to their animated nature, but still immensely enjoyed burrowing into the assorted branches and leaves he had grabbed. Lindle nestled himself into his sleeping bag and closed his eyes.

  Lindle sighed as he placed yet another filled-out scroll down, the pile now nearly as tall as the average man was, reaching chest height as he sat in his chair. He dared peek at the scrolls left for him to approve and sign, only to groan to see that he was only halfway done.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  He placed his head in his hands and massaged his forehead. Why must he be the one to approve all these shipping requests? Surely someone else could handle it? If he had known this position would come with such tedious requirements, he would have never started-

  Lindle sighed again as he cut that thought off. No, that wasn’t true. He was very proud of what he had accomplished here. The work people would be doing with the materials requested in these scrolls would likely one day change the world.

  The world could do with some changing. If the rumors he had been hearing had any truth to them, then he had to be prepared. They all had to be prepared.

  As he convinced himself, once again, to continue working, Lindle waved his arm and let the next scroll float over to his desk and unfurled it. It was a shame, honestly. He looked to his window as warm golden rays leaked through the blinds. It was such a nice day outside.

  He woke up slowly, hearing the sounds of everyone else already eating outside his tent. Lindle frowned as he rubbed the grogginess from his eyes. Was it something about Chip’s hearth spell that made him oversleep like this?

  Joining everyone else, Lindle saw Rosato giving Thalia and Humphrey the same speech about dungeon delving the knight had given Lindle. Listening in while he quickly ate his breakfast, he didn’t hear anything different than what he had been told, but it did help to remind him of the danger of dungeon zones. How it would grow more dangerous if the dungeon caught you away from your group, and how Theodore and Notwick would be doing exactly that. Sure, Lindle trusted Theodore’s stealth abilities, but this was also apparently not a normal dungeon either.

  They had put together this plan only a day ago. Lindle hadn’t had the chance to fully realize the risks his friend would be going through but now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Sensing his anxiety, Notwick looked up from their small bowl of food, reaching up a paw and placing it on Lindle’s side.

  “Hey, don’t worry, they comforted him. “Theodore’s an accomplished rogue, and we built my body with stealth aspects of my own too. We’ll be careful.”

  “Yeah… Yeah, I know.” Lindle tried to give Notwick a small smile. “Sorry, I woke up feeling stressed for some reason.”

  Notwick returned the smile, and projected to Lindle more reassurance as they both finished eating.

  Once they had packed up camp, it took them only thirty minutes of walking to reach their destination, a familiar opening in the side of a cliff and a familiar pressure bearing down on Lindle’s shoulders. The dungeon zone pressure made him fidget, but he was adapting to it much faster than he had the first time. Humphrey seemed to be taking it better than Thalia. Meanwhile, Notwick seemed entirely unaffected.

  As Theodore made sure no monsters had taken up residence in the caves leading to the dungeon proper, they went over the plan one last time. As a group, they’d travel through the dungeon's entrance, and if the dungeon zone had replaced its old starting monster, they’d fight it together as extra practice. They’d study the old hallway for whatever clues they might have missed the first time, and then they’d re-enter the old library and quickly confirm if Notwick still had the same effect on the Librarian, Anton, that they had the first time. If they did, they’d attempt to glean whatever information they could from the Library and Anton, then investigate the office room, and then the old, hidden room Lindle had found Notwick in.

  After they had thoroughly combed over all their old steps, while the rest of them used the office as a safe space, Theodore and Notwick would separate from the two of them and attempt to map out as much of the dungeon as possible, with Notwick on the lookout for any more creature’s like Anton or hidden locations visible to an Ethos sense.

  It made Lindle happy that Notwick wouldn’t be separated from the group right away, though he wasn’t sure how happy he was to see the Librarian again. He had almost killed Lindle after all, but considering the fact Notwick thought of the former man as a friend, Lindle would keep an open mind.

  With a plan in place, they carefully made their way down through the caves. Lindle was happy to report that [Primeval Climber] was just as well-suited for spelunking as it was cliff climbing, and they managed to reach the same cavern housing the building, which he now knew was an academy that the dungeon zone had warped to from its labyrinth.

  On his shoulder, Notwick projected a strange sense of loss only Lindle could feel as they looked up at the massive stone structure before speaking aloud. “You know, I’ve never seen the outside of this place. Not as it was. I can’t tell if becoming a dungeon has warped this place beyond recognition or if this was what it actually looked like.” They chuckled. “I didn’t expect coming back here would make me feel this way. More fool me, huh?”

  Lindle reached up and attempted to comfort them, and Notwick chuckled again as they projected appreciation across their bond. Everyone gave Notwick a minute before the homunculus let out a sigh. “Ready.”

  They all readied their weapons and spells as they walked up to the entrance. Rosato placed a hand on the massive gate giving them a silent countdown. Remembering what had been waiting for them last time, Lindle held up a vial filled with a potent poison. The moment Rosato reached one, he threw open the gate and strode forward with sword and shield ready.

  Valiantly, he faced an empty entrance hall. Behind him, everyone stood ready for another few seconds until it became clear nothing was coming, and they all relaxed.

  Dorothea released a disappointed sigh before a small grin came over her face. “I suppose even the dungeon didn’t want to ruin the mood.”