The dark tunnel seemed to go on for hours. In that time, my health regeneration provided nearly nothing to aid my current plight. My health still lingered at dangerously low levels and my maximum health and mana were still half of what they normally were. I made a mental note to be more careful in the future if injuring myself caused such a hefty penalty.

  Our path spiraled upward, each step looking exactly the same as the last. I hadn’t realized that we’d descended so far during our time in the dungeon, but we must have been miles below the surface. Luckily for me, though, I didn’t have to hop my way out.

  Dorin’s stamina was impressive. He walked the spiral for hours without rest or complaint. In fact, he almost seemed pleased in a gruff sort of way.

  “Been a long time since I had this much mana running through me,” he admitted when I asked. “Much as I don’t regret moving back to Felsporo, the level drain took a lot from us.”

  “What was this level drain?” I asked. “The kids mentioned that, too. That it had something to do with the shamblers?”

  The draken knight nodded solemnly. “Felsporo has been under a level draining curse for nearly a thousand years. No one knows the cause for certain, but it drains the levels of any human who enters. Without powerful humans to eat, most of the monsters are also weaker in the area, save those that are produced by Dragon’s Gate.”

  “What about the other dungeons?”

  “What other dungeons? There are none in the area.”

  I directed my focus towards him. Dungeons were like slimes. Where there was mana, dungeons would form. They were a lot like slimes in that regard. Wild mana condensed down to make slimes, but greater quantities would create dungeons instead. Those dungeons would then grow to seek out more mana and expand themselves. That much was common knowledge.

  So, why were there no dungeons besides Dragon’s Gate? No matter how I tried to wrap my core around the problem, the only connection I could see was the level drain curse. If mana was being siphoned to something else, then there wouldn’t be enough for dungeons to spawn. Flimsy human mana was drawn away, and even monsters would likely have a harder time evolving, even though they were able to keep hold of the tiers they already had.

  The question was why? What was siphoning all this mana, and why had it suddenly stopped? Furthermore, why would a sudden increase in local mana cause humans to decay into shamblers? By every process I knew of—which was arguably little and based entirely on the intuition of an arcane entity—a surplus of mana should have had the opposite effect. Rather than decaying a creature’s internal magic, it should have bolstered it.

  The whole issue was giving me another core ache.

  A slime dripped from the ceiling, landing before Dorin’s feet. Glad for the distraction, I sloshed my slime over the edge of my bowl to land next to it. It was small, barely a morsel, but I wasn’t one to let good food go to waste. I wrapped myself around it, engulfing slime and core alike. It fought back valiantly, but even though it took twice as long as normal, the slime was soon absorbed into my mass and its magic added to mine.

  [Creature eaten:

  Lesser Slime: 84/100

  +1 mana]

  Relief filled me as my mana ticked up by one. What was once a drop in the sea of my mana was now a precious morsel. I savored it.

  Eighty four, eh? I mused, looking around at the various silvery threads of magic that seeped from the wall-cracks. I wonder what it would take to push that to one hundred?

  Slowly, I crawled up the walls. My slime adhered with more difficulty than I was used to, forcing me to grip into the rough stone surface with my far-too liquid body. Inch by inch, I forced myself towards the cracks with the most mana before shoving my pseudopod in and devouring the inhabitants.

  [Creature Eaten:

  Lesser Slime: 90/100

  +6 mana]

  With my mana nearly full, I decided it was worthwhile to spare some for Soothing Touch. The healing mana of my core washed over me, repairing some of my slime. It wasn’t much, certainly not enough to lower my injury counter, but the relief was well worth the mana spent.

  [Name: Suri Slimeheart; Lesser Guardian Slime, Tier 2

  Health: 11/11

  Mana: 8/23

  Injury Index: 2 - Core damaged through mana exhaustion.

  Health and mana regeneration reduced]

  It was enough. With this means of converting slime to mana and mana to health, I had an infinite supply of health. Not that I could store that much health or mana with my maximums down, but it was a method worth remembering if I ever found myself injured in the dungeon again.

  Now, I just needed to restore my mana back to the reduced maximum.

  [Creature Eaten:

  Lesser Slime: 97/100

  +7 mana]

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Just three more…

  [Creature Eaten:

  Lesser Slime: 100/100

  +3 mana

  Ability Unlocked: Slime Sacrifice]

  I wobbled happily as the Creator notified me of my success. With a great deal of pride, I requested the details of the new ability.

  [Slime Sacrifice—Your slime is less important than your core and can be removed without causing great injury. Damage taken by your slime mass is greatly reduced, while damage taken by your core is greatly increased.]

  It was a defensive skill, something I was sorely lacking with my current spread of abilities. With this, so long as I kept my core safe from harm, it would be far more difficult for predators to eat me. After all, my core was constantly shifting through my mass as I moved and fought. If I could reduce the size of the target that actually mattered to me…

  The choice was clear.

  [Ability Selected: Slime Sacrifice

  Ability slots remaining: 4]

  My slime trembled and my core itched as mana was forcibly shifted through my body. My core felt heavier, despite remaining the same size. Once the feeling passed, I grew a pseudopod and did an experimental wave. Everything about my slime seemed to move the same, which was good, and I still could hop around with the same, slow agility I’d had before. In fact, my slime seemed slightly firmer, despite my injury, but it was such a small difference that it may have just been wishful thinking.

  “You alright?” Dorin asked.

  I wobbled an affirmative before hopping to the wall and peering at it.

  If eating my way through two levels of slime abilities did that much for me, what could I get from eating other things? I was very close to reaching a milestone for eating rocks. Why not max that out while we were surrounded by them?

  With gusto, I dove into the wall, eating a small alcove in the wall as Dorin paused to watch. It took a long time, but eventually it was big enough for several creatures to stand in comfortably, or even take a nap.

  [Substance Eaten:

  Stone: 11/10

  Ability unlocked: Stoneskin; Modified by Consumer of the Fourth Anchor

  Stoneskin—Mana cost: 2. By strengthening your outer membrane, your slime becomes more difficult to pierce. Temporarily increases mass to reduce damage taken. Requires Slayer’s Stance. At the end of the duration, automatically applies Healer’s Bearing.]

  Another defensive ability couldn’t hurt. I found it curious that Stoneskin would be modified by Consumer of the Fourth Anchor, but it wasn’t as if I had any choice in the matter. Something told me that the only way to find out more about the purpose of the tag was to watch what it did and try to keep note of how it was changing my abilities. Given that the Creator was also devoted to logging the tag’s activity, all I could do was have faith that it would become clear in time…and try not to heal any more humans.

  [Ability Selected: Stoneskin

  Ability slots remaining: 3]

  There was no dramatic shift in my slime this time, but I felt instincts prickling at the back of my mind. Reflexively, I spared a bit of mana to swap into Slayer’s Stance and activate Stoneskin. My outer membrane hardened, as promised, and felt delightfully safe. Anything that wanted to eat me would have to first pierce my membrane, then dive through acidic slime to reach my core.

  It was only a minute or so later that Stoneskin wore off, and my arcane stance was automatically shifted. Perhaps with time, I would be able to increase that duration, either through repetition, or with an upgrade like Enhanced Eater.

  Content in the safety I’d gained in the last few minutes, I climbed back into my bowl and we set out once more. Dorin and I talked at length about the abilities I’d gained. It seemed he was still trying to grasp how to be a monster. He wasn’t used to ability slots, having come from using something called a perk point in order to gain new skills. However, though there were far fewer ability slots available than perk points—especially for him with his low [Versatility] stat—the abilities of a monster were far stronger and broader than what he’d used as a human.

  To prove his point, Dorin began experimenting with the flame that lit his way. As one of his innate abilities, much like Efficient Eater was for me, it had very little cost, and the draken played with it. One moment, he condensed it down to the size of a candle flame. Next, he grew it to that of a torch, then back to the candle. With a great flash of mana, the flame exploded outward, scorching the walls on either side of us, but keeping a safe distance from me in my bowl. Though he never bared his teeth in a smile to show his joy, I noticed his inner fire turn just a shade more vibrant red.

  “What I wouldn’t have given to have this level of control,” he mused.

  “Can humans not control mana as well?” I wondered, reaching up out of my bowl to examine his mana more directly.

  Dorin shook his head. “With years of practice, they can. Mages devote their entire lives to the mastery of using mana. I, however, was a knight, so I spent more time practicing swordplay than magic.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Wasn’t the wisest decision in retrospect, but you can’t change the past.”

  “You can correct it by becoming a draken, though,” I offered cautiously. Maybe someday, he would see it wasn’t so bad being a monster.

  The knight didn’t answer, but his expression deepened into a gruff frown that I didn’t know how to interpret. His mana didn’t flare, so either he wasn’t too upset, or he was getting better at controlling the flame inside him in an effort to protect me. Either way, I was comforted by his lack of magical reaction.

  “Up ahead,” he said, pointing at the far wall of the spiral ramp. “Is that light?”

  “How should I know?” The wall looked exactly like every other twist we’d ascended in the last several hours.

  “I think it is.”

  Dorin picked up his pace, clearly excited at the prospect of soon being free of the dungeon. To his disappointment, though, the light he thought was from the sun was actually coming from another illusory wall, one that was lit from our side to help the non-slime monsters find their way. I gently pressed my pseudopod to the wall, and the segment of wall parted to reveal a tunnel.

  “It smells like forest.” He turned, following his nose toward a large door.

  He was onto something for sure. The walls here were covered with tiny tendrils of moss, their magic a stark contrast against the stones we’d been trapped in for over a day.

  Dorin set my bowl on the ground, wrapping both hands around a hook on the door. After taking a moment to steel himself, he pulled with all his might. Metal screeched across the stone ground, making my slime ache with the horrible sound. As soon as it was open enough, Dorin poked his head outside to breathe in the sweet outside air. I could see flashes of natural mana, that of the plants and the winds, all pouring through the crack.

  He relaxed, then wedged himself into the crack, pushing the door with his back to widen the gap. Once it was comfortably wide, he knelt and picked up my bowl once more.

  “That is actual sunlight,” he said with a weary sigh. “You never know what you take for granted until it's gone.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. I’ve never seen the sun before.”

  “Your loss. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever set eyes on.” Dorin stepped out into a forest glade at the edge of a cliff.

  The doors we’d just exited had been carved into a massive cliff-face so tall that the top wasn’t visible in my arcane senses. Delicate carvings of dragons in flight decorated the bronze doors, but in many places, they were marred with giant gashes like claw marks tearing into the metal.

  What on earth happened here? I wondered. I was just about to ask Dorin, when several flashes of blue and green mana burst from the treetops, careening at us too fast to track.

  I only just barely managed to make out the shapes of several women with bird wings before a hard, sharp talon yanked me out of my bowl and carried me into the sky.

  “Suri!” Dorin shouted.

  Meanwhile, I did the only reasonable thing: I screamed.