The very first thing we did once the space around us returned to normal was to summon Tal’Ket. We’d tried to do exactly that a number of times from within the region, but whatever effects had kept us trapped within had similarly seemed to keep him out. This time, though, the summoning went off without a hitch, and in short order, we were back on our way to the cabin.

  There were all sorts of possible reactions we could have had to our many months in close quarters. Eager to escape the dungeon, the others might want to throw themselves into clearing more regions. Frustrated with their powerlessness, they might spend every moment training. Robbed of a comfortable environment, they might laze about in the cabin for the foreseeable future. I knew how I was feeling, but I couldn’t say the same for the others.

  When we eventually landed in front of the cabin, it was Cal who helped clear up what the future would look like from here on out. Clasping her hands together, she fixed us with a firm gaze, demanding our full attention.

  “So. Look. Love you guys. Really. Wouldn’t want to be trapped in a dungeon for over a year with anyone else. Even you, Verin.” Pre-empting the retort that was doubtless coming, she barreled on without taking a breath. “But in the kindest way possible, I am, like, incredibly sick of you two after all that. I need some 'me time.' Space. Not the magical kind, the normal kind. What I’m saying is that I don’t want to see you two at all for at least the next month. Is that okay with you tw-”

  “Oh my god, I completely agre-”

  “I will confess, I concu-”

  The three of us all stopped at once, looking between ourselves. A moment later, we found ourselves laughing along with each other, a small bit of the prior months’ trauma washing away.

  After a brief conversation to make sure we knew what one another would be up to -- and by virtue of that, how not to bother each other -- we were off.

  As much as I would have liked to get a few more region clears under our belts, it was for the best. After being shut off from the rest of the dungeon for so long, I had plenty of things I wished to do with my newfound time off.

  In our month of separation, the three of us had chosen different places to stay. For Cal who lacked the need to sleep, that meant wandering around. To start, she planned to head back to the now-empty spatial region in an effort to map out the surrounding biomes we had access to. After that, she’d probably go hunting to nab some extra experience. For all of this, I left her with Tal’Ket’s summoning disk.

  Verin, as befit her lack of physical stats, was not keen on traveling far and wide. She’d be staying put in the cabin. While she’d make a few trips out into the desert to kill some scorpions, she was mostly set on getting back into her art. She was planning on starting out simple for now, carving landscapes into wood. Now that the forest was safe, she would likely travel there to etch a few carvings of arbor and his scenic moat, as well.

  Admittedly, I wouldn’t be completely separated from Verin. Unless I wanted to be responsible for teaching her how to cook, I had to make sure the noble didn’t starve to death or give herself some magical form of food poisoning.

  That actually ended up fitting very well into my plans, though. One of the first things I did with my newfound freedom -- aside from take the mother of all naps -- was head back into my class space. Needless to say, after multiple months of bashing my head against the Arcane Vision class trial, I hadn’t been too keen on returning, and I’d largely avoided anything to do with it for the remainder of my time in the spatial region.

  Now, on the other hand, I was a bit curious. I still had two class trials I’d yet to complete, one for Overload Weapon, and another for Overload Armor, but those weren’t primarily where my interests lay. With Arcane Vision’s trial finished, I’d theoretically unlocked the next trial in the Arcane Augmenter series.

  Better yet, it was for a skill that I strongly doubted would be too combat focused: Gloves of the Arcanist. Given the professional nature of the skill, I struggled to envision a scenario in which I received another spear to the chest. As I removed the gloves from their pedestal and put them on, I was quickly proven correct, but not in the way I’d anticipated.

  For every other class trial I’d done, I’d had to return to the central room of the armory and descend down the stairs there to begin. It was, then, something of a shock when merely placing the gloves on was enough to bring up a notification.

  You have been offered a trial quest!

  In lieu of a standard trial, some skills can only evolve through trial quests. These quests are most likely to be paired with skills that are passive or one-dimensional in nature, making them ill-suited for training regimens.

  Gloves of the Arcanist Trial Quest

  Let your skill as a crafter shine through to prove yourself worthy of evolving your gloves.

  Requirements:

  Reach the Journeyman rank in at least one profession - 0/1

  Reach the Apprentice rank in at least three professions - 1/3

  Reach the Initiate rank in at least five professions - 5/5

  Discover at least ten profession-specific Gloves of the Arcanist variants - 4/10

  Craft at least three named items - 2/3

  While the quest came as a surprise, frankly, it was nice to be offered a trial that didn’t require me to spend hours each day worrying about assassins. Better yet, it looked like I’d already completed the bulk of the requirements.

  I had plans to wrap up the first two as well. Without a doubt, Cooking would be the first of my professions to hit the Journeyman rank. Admittedly, it would probably take an exceptionally long time considering that none of my professional skills were class aligned yet, but I’d been cooking pretty much daily for over a year now. Especially if I got my hands on some rare or interesting ingredients, hopefully another year would be enough to bang out the remaining levels.

  The Apprentice requirement would be even simpler. Mining was an obvious choice for the second slot, as it was already level 16, and I had the mines and the rare metals within to level off of. The third was more open to debate, but I expected it’d go to Alchemy given my fancy new alchemist’s cauldron.

  Then again, who knew? With all the precious metals I had at my disposal now, I might start focusing on my Jewelry Making again. I didn’t think we needed all that much more furniture at this point, but at level 14, Woodworking was also in the running. That, or Construction, which had hit level 15 from its strange interaction with the structures in my mental space.

  The ten variants condition was tougher, but I wasn’t actually too worried there either. There were still a few of my newer professions that I hadn’t played with too much, and on top of that, I only needed a single level in a profession to discover new variants for it. If it came down to it, I was sure that I could grab the first level in some random skills for the sole purpose of racking up new glove variants.

  No, despite being nearly finished with it, it was the last of the requirements that had me the most nervous. Unlike the other three which were guaranteed with enough time and effort, the obligation to craft another named item was a bit trickier.

  I’d done it long ago while crafting a gift for Nadja which had resulted in the creation of the Bangle of the Cocktail Princess. Much more recently, I’d brewed what was in essence a super-powered pesticide, aptly named Patchwork Dungeon’s Anti-regenerating Vinebane. In neither case had I expected to craft a named item, and it wasn’t something I could do on command.

  From the notifications I’d received after crafting both of them, it seemed like the materials used and the Prestige of the crafter had a lot to do with it. Thankfully, I had far more Prestige than I’d had back when I’d crafted my first named item, so I was hoping the next would just happen by accident. For now, I’d put it out of mind, and if I still hadn’t fulfilled that requirement by the time Cooking neared 30, I’d revisit it.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  If I didn’t want to work on my professions, though, I had a different skill I could easily train up now: Spatial Magic. Not that I really wanted to for the foreseeable future, but I did have a pretty efficient way to do so. While the spatial spirit hadn’t dropped any equipable loot, it had, at least, given us two items of note. Both had been contained in the small black chest we’d received after clearing the region.

  The first was perhaps the more exciting of the two, and it was also the one I had no plans of using for the time being. A constantly bubbling black liquid sat within a small glass vial, radiating a dense spatial mana signature.

  Spatial Affinity Tonic

  Steeped in the energies of the cosmos and imbued with the concept of space, this brew increases the imbiber’s affinity with spatial concepts.

  On consumption, grants a minor, permanent increase in the imbiber’s connection to spatial concepts. Additionally, increases the leveling speed for the imbiber’s next ten levels of Spatial Magic. This effect only works at full strength up to Adept rank, at which point it offers diminishing returns.

  The epic-ranked consumable would, quite obviously, be going to me. I felt a little bad about it, as the chest hadn’t contained anything specifically for the others, and gods knew they deserved something for putting up with that hellish region. On the other hand, I’d certainly carried the team the entire region, and as the only spatial mage, it wasn’t surprising I’d reap the lion’s share of the rewards.

  While I got the gist of the potion’s effects, the bits about the “spatial concepts” felt a bit murky. The archmage had given me a lesson on intent-altered mana and concepts a while back, but he hadn’t gone into too much detail.

  From what I recalled, the two were often closely linked. Suds, for example, had once been a storm mage who’d eventually enforced his will on his mana, eventually modifying it into the intent-altered cleaning magic instead.

  That was something he could theoretically undo, going back to using storm magic. If, on the other hand, he continued to use his cleaning magic for decades and decades and let the idea of “cleaning” become a larger part of his personality and how he viewed himself, he might eventually resonate with a “cleaning concept.”

  The exact effects of that, the archmage had been vague on, but he’d made it sound like it was eventually a permanent, soul-deep change. He’d also mentioned that it was a major difference between a weak mage who let the system handle everything and a true mage. Having cultivated a fire concept himself, he’d shown me the difference between a standard magical flame and true fire, and the image was still crystal clear in my head. When it came to the specifics, the archmage had basically told me I still had a long while to go before I had to worry about any of that.

  All that to say, I wasn’t actually fully sure what increasing my affinity with spatial concepts would do, but it sounded kind of cool.

  Sadly for my affinity, I wasn’t planning to drink the tonic for now. If it only worked to boost my leveling speed for ten levels up to the Adept rank, then the best time to take it would be as soon as I hit level 30.

  Thankfully, the second item in the chest would help me do just that. Less showy than its liquid counterpart, the seemingly simple, unnaturally black stone wasn’t overly useful outside of as a training aid.

  Orb of Isolation - 0/500

  A potent source of spatial energy, ideal as a reagent in spatial rituals and empowering spatial spells. Alternatively, when charged with mana and activated, the orb creates an isolated area around itself with severely mangled space. Sufficient internal or external damage may cancel the effect or increase the rate of drain.

  In theory, I could activate the orb in a battle to trap something into a confined space with me. On the flip side, I could place myself into it to temporarily shield myself from an attack. In actuality, the orb took a few seconds to activate, and if I had that much time to react during a fight, there were almost always better options.

  Instead, it was good for practicing my two spatial spells. Now that I no longer had the actual region to pit myself against, an on-demand area of altered space was the next best thing.

  I would probably give it a go in a week or two. As much as I wanted to forget about all things spatial for a while, I’d jumped all the way up to level 28 from my time trapped, and I was eager to see what new spells would be available to me at 30. At this rate, it didn’t even feel so far-fetched to think that I might grow strong enough to teleport us out of the dungeon before we cleared all four collection sites.

  All that aside, I had two much more immediate goals, both of them vaguely professional in nature.

  The first was culinary. Months with nothing but broth had nearly driven me mad. A trip to Arbor was sorely needed, partly so I could continue leveling Cooking, but mostly for my soul. How Cal could manage it, I wasn’t sure, but I was certain that a bland enough diet could give someone soul damage after long enough.

  The second concerned a profession that had fallen to the wayside for a while: Enchanting. While I’d raced through the first few levels of the skill, I’d been forced to stop due to a poor external mana manipulation ability and a lack of suitable materials to work with.

  On the mana-manipulation front, I’d come a long way. The spatial region had robbed me of my ability to practice most of my skills, not leaving much to fill my time with. Mana-manipulation exercises had been an easy enough activity to sink all my extra time into, and I was confident I was good enough to grab at least a few more Enchanting levels at this point.

  On the materials front, I finally had access to a large supply of metal. True, I’d need to figure out a way to refine it and melt it, but these days, I was far craftier than I’d ever been back on Earth. I didn’t actually know how to make a forge or a kiln or whatever it was I needed, but I liked to think I could figure it out given enough time.

  It was rather lucky, then, that time was exactly what I had.

  As I entered the interior of the great heartwood tree, I rapped my knuckles against the walls while calling out. The display was just enough to rouse the slumbering king of the forest, and if a bit languidly, a mass of roots began to form into the shape of a man before me.

  When his mouth was finally in working order, he yawned out a greeting. “Tess… Hello. Has it been a month already? It feels like I just went back to bed yesterday.”

  I chuckled, though not as warmly as I’d intended. “It’s actually been a bit longer than that, Arbor. We’ve been a bit busy.” Somehow, I doubted the king would even notice if we left him alone for a few years, though that was hardly his fault. “I can tell you about it for today’s story if you’d like?”

  Ever the fan of a good tale, he seemed delighted by the proposition. I could only hope it wouldn’t be too bleak for his tastes, although maybe if I hit him with a good enough sob story, he’d try to grow me some extra produce before falling back to sleep.

  “Before you begin, might I ask what I can do for you today? More of the same?” A wealth of life mana filled the entirety of the chamber, ready to be put to whatever task he willed.

  With essentially all of my ingredients wiped out in the spatial region, this month would mostly be for restocking the essentials. Still…

  “Hey Arbor, do you have any weird food you can grow? I’m trying to get my Cooking skill to the next rank, and I feel like what I’ve been doing isn’t going to cut it.” Or it might, but certainly not in the near future. “Anything that’s hard to prepare or has unusual properties?”

  He responded with a deep hum that reverberated through his trunk and summoned a gentle wind. “A curious question. I am unsure what you might consider ‘unusual,’ and in truth, I cannot say for certain what would be edible for you, either. I will think on it and ask some of the forest spirits as well. Perhaps this will bear some literal fruit next time we meet, yes?”

  While it was a bit of a letdown that I wouldn’t be getting any fun new ingredients right this instant, it was probably for the best in any case. Having him waste all his energy on one or two interesting plants would be a travesty considering how depleted my reserves were.

  “Works for me. Thank you. Now, for my side of the bargain. It all started after Cal and Verin found a massive graveyard…”

  Stonemasonry has reached level 6!

  “Behold!” Not that there was anyone to actually hear me, but it felt like my hard work deserved some sort of exclamation. Laid out before me in a cleared out patch of the prairie were three stone structures. While they were similar in some ways, they all served subtly different purposes.

  The first was the simplest. I’d dug a small rectangular hole and lined it with marble bricks quarried from the resource room in the mountains. Lacking any sort of mortar, I’d taken extra care to carve each brick with notches and grooves that let me slide each brick into the others, with essentially no gap between any of them. While tricky to get just right, my Perception and Dexterity let me achieve a level of precision that should have been reserved for much more advanced tooling.

  Honestly, after all the carving was done, it was kind of like building with legos.

  Regardless, I ended up with what was essentially a glorified fire pit. A bit superfluous considering that I’d already built an actual fire pit for the three of us a long time ago, but this one had a different purpose. A bed of coals lay at the bottom of the hole, and once I lit them, I’d have a brand new grill on my hands. A rather pretty one, too -- I hadn’t polished the marble quite as well as I would have liked, but I imagined the grill would have even fetched a pretty penny back on Earth. Ideally, I’d eventually get some latticed metal to place atop it like on an actual grill, but stone would do for now.

  The other two structures were also for containing heat, albeit for different uses. The second was essentially just a box with an opening on one side. While undeniably primitive, I was hoping to use it as an oven. I’d already made some crackers and some pan breads with wheat I’d grabbed from Arbor, but it was a far cry from the mild and fluffy stuff I was used to. With an actual oven to use, I was hoping that I could start to change that.

  And lastly, there was the real kicker. It wasn’t actually all that different from the oven, save for two key features. The first was a chimney. While not much more than a simple upwards stretching shaft, it would hopefully allow any smoke to exit upwards instead of into my face. Secondly, there was a small hole in the side for air flow.

  Though I was sure it wasn’t entirely perfect, in the span of only a few days, I’d managed to build my first forge. With a thought, all of the metal in my storage spilled out onto the ground.

  Now, with any luck, it was time to learn a new skill.

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