The ground shudders beneath our feet.

  Klaarson’s pupils dilate, and he screams as the rock he was sitting on bounces beneath him and sends him flying my way. He grips my arm in sudden terror at the roiling energies all around us.

  “That’s our cue!” I shout, stabilizing the big man thanks to the potent rush of mana strengthening my body. I channel my [Greater Heat Manipulation] through the anchor points of my two golems on site in the guardian room, simultaneously protecting the team and targeting the wounded insectoid boss before the Rift can empower it. The three workers fighting it right now have no chance if it’s enraged and strengthened by an influx of chaotic mana.

  Practicing so much distributed casting over the last few months has honed my control over a distance to a razor’s edge. That’s probably the only thing that saves the trio from melting alive as I flood the room with mana, burning everything inside with overwhelming power.

  Instead of the boss disintegrating its puny, two-legged attackers with acid, the tables turn in an instant as I flip the board. Fire and heat erupts in a concentrated explosion. I immolate the monster quicker than I can blink, erasing it from existence in a firestorm of fury while shielding Trevour, Marta, and Club from the blowback.

  As soon as the threat disappears, the entire Rift rumbles again, its mana spent before its guardian is properly empowered to destroy invaders. Directionless now that it has no target, the energy twists and bucks like a runaway stallion.

  “What just happened?” Klaarson screams.

  “The Rift is collapsing!” I shout back.

  The walls around us crumble, bit by bit, turning into dust. Like an old, worn-out leather ball kids have kicked around until it springs a leak, the Rift is slowly deflating. Without the bulwark of the core’s orchestration to maintain its structure, the Rift will soon fall apart entirely. I’ll keep it open as long as I can, but even my upgraded Capacity isn’t enough to replace the enormous volume the Rift is losing.

  Stupid, entering a wild Rift, I berate myself, clamping down on the unraveling mana. Desperately, I draw on my power, trying to replace the structure the depleted core provided, like a pacified or architected Rift might enjoy. It’s not going as well as I’d like, and I soon realize I’m running out of time.

  I grab Klaarson and take off running toward the three caravan workers as quickly as I can, propelled along by the muscle-empowering mana movement technique that Nicanor taught me. In my haste, I use the full force of my Domain to levitate Klaarson above my head and fly him like a kite on invisible strings of mana while I run. I don’t trust him to keep up otherwise.

  Dodging falling rocks and blasting dust and dirt out of my way, I race through the tunnels to reach the others. Dark brown and mottled gray-black fly past me as the rock walls blur by with the speed of our passage. Lately it seems like running is all I do.

  “Get me downnn!” Klaarson shrieks, blind panic bleeding through his words.

  I’m too focused on running hard to worry about a response. In a short time, we’ll reach the room before the core, but right now every second counts.

  Klaarson’s friends stare at him in confused awe when we arrive on the scene of the fight with the Rift guardian a few moments later, and I let out a soft noise of embarrassment at pulling the man through the air, putting him down with less care than I probably should.

  Klaarson groans and clutches his rib as he bounces off the ground. In my haste, I let him go when he was still waist height. Ouch. That’s going to hurt.

  “Flying is even worse than those glass ponies,” Klaarson moans. “You’re crazy!”

  Thankfully, he seems largely unharmed, although he’s giving me a nasty side-eye, so I ignore him for now. Saving his life only earns me so much gratitude, I suppose.

  “Great boss fight!” I praise the three as cheerfully as I can, while herding them closer with quick hand gestures. All the while, I run toward the core.

  “What’s going on?” Club demands, trying to keep pace with me and failing until I slow down significantly.

  “Step lively. This place is falling apart. If you want a chance to siphon off power from the core before we flee, you have about three minutes—er, make that two.”

  Wide eyes meet my twitter of laughter, a nervous response to the chaos all around us, but to their credit, they waste no time charging after me into the core room of the wild Rift. Pride brims up in my chest at their courage.

  “What in all the earth and seas is that?” Trevour all but shrieks as we all skid to a stop in the next room over. He points at a quivering orb of strobing, hard-edged light mounted atop a pillar of jet black marble.

  “That’s the core,” I supply helpfully.

  “Right, I know that. But what is it? The mana is all, uh, squiggly,” he trails off rather inelegantly, shrugging helplessly as he runs out of words to describe what he’s seeing.

  “Don’t look too closely,” I warn Trevour. “Your senses are almost good enough to see things you’re not strong enough to handle.”

  “Then why are we here?” Marta snaps.

  “Not strong enough yet,” I amend. “Stick with delving Rifts with me, and you’ll get there in no time. I’ll teach you all the tricks.”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Club edges closer, staring at the core. Desire and fear thrum within him, warring for top response. “This is normal for you?”

  “Oh yeah. All in a day’s work for me,” I brag, jabbing a thumb into my chest.

  I don’t miss the excitement rising to the fore when I mention they can keep training with me, but we’re out of time for me to get all sentimental right now. I’ll speak with [Caravan Leader] Yuvaan when we return to the surface about hiring these four. They’ll be perfect understudies to my usual team. A supplement, not a replacement.

  Never a replacement, I vow.

  Klaarson rubs his nose and takes a step back. “Reckon I should sit this one out, too, if it’s as risky as you say.”

  “Smart,” I say, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Trevour? You are probably the only one with good enough senses to get an inkling of what’s going on.”

  He shakes his head immediately, looking hopelessly lost. “Marta is probably the better choice. She has more fine control than I do, even if my senses are more, uh, sensitive.”

  “You just don’t wanna take the risk of something going wrong,” Marta mutters, but I notice she isn’t exactly keen to approach the crackling energy orbiting the increasingly wobbly core, either. She’s staring at it with the same wary look someone might give a rabid dog.

  “Bah, if you’re not going to try, then I’ll do it myself. We’re out of time,” I announce sadly. “I’ll leave my golems and handle this with a long range cast. Gotta get you back to the surface as quickly as I can.”

  Inspired by how quickly I could run with Klaarson trailing behind me, upheld by the force of my Domain, I hoist them all into the air. Carrying all four of them like kites is more strenuous than I let on, but it’s undeniably great training for my Domain. Loathe as I am to do this again, I know I’ll have to tell Nicanor to add it to my training rotation.

  While I flex my magical muscles, my real muscles are pumping as hard as I can. We sprint back through the boss’s lair, not stopping to loot the body. I grit my teeth in frustration as I notice a chunk of energy in its thorax. A beast core would be useful for crafting, especially if I can harness the acid-aspected mana within. Leaving loot behind is the worst.

  Refusing to dwell on what we’ve lost, I keep running, sliding as I hit a patch of mud and almost drop the workers. Growling with the effort of keeping them balanced while I run, I cast my senses forward, searching for more unstable ground that I’ll need to avoid.

  Past the labyrinth defending the boss room, we plunge into the patchwork of burrows where the ambush insects tried their luck against us earlier. A quick scan confirms that none of them are alive, so I breathe a sigh of relief and run straight past the tunnels without worrying about another fight. No ambushes for us.

  My lungs are burning from the intensity of the run. I’ve run farther with Nicanor, but not while under such duress. Spots pop in the corners of my vision. The strain of keeping so many people aloft through my Domain has me seeing things, struggling to breathe.

  Rough-hewn granite forms a shadowed archway. The stone arch warps and twists in opposite directions, like a giant is gripping it in its bare hands, trying to rip it apart. Underneath the pitted stone, the dark opalescence of the Rift portal finally comes into view.

  Chunks of crumbling peel away from the arch and crash to the ground below, sending up clouds of dust. I dig my feet into the dirt even harder, my arms and legs pumping, desperate to escape before the Rift destroys itself. It’s not far, maybe fifty strides away, but the disintegrating Rift makes it feels like an infinite expanse.

  The keystone cracks.

  The arch collapses.

  A ragged sob rips out of my throat.

  Calculations race through my head as sharpness and innovation activate in heartbeat. I’m running on empty. I’m simply not strong enough to carry them and clear the way. Wincing at how much this is going to hurt, I grit my teeth and force myself to do what I know I have to do.

  “Try to live!” I yell over my shoulder, and release my Domain’s hold on the workers.

  Behind me, they tumble to the ground, screaming in terror, but I shut it out of my mind and press onward. Broken bones can be mended; death can’t.

  Up ahead, the mass of stone is about to bury our way out, sealing us in the Rift forever. Denial burns inside, igniting my mana with rage. A guttural roar boils up from deep within me, and I pour my strength into my Domain, lashing out and blasting the falling rock with violent intent.

  The tumbling mountain of rubble detonates under my furious assault. Exploding into a massive cloud of dust and stone fragments, the remains of the enormous chunk of rock pelt the portal like hailstones on a lake.

  I reach backward with every last iota of energy left, ignoring their cries of agony and fear, and sweep up all four of the brave delvers. Dragging them behind me like heavy fish in a net, I cross the last few strides between us and freedom, forcing my leaden legs to keep driving.

  Just before I leap through the portal back to our plane of existence, I trigger my merged Skill, [The Glassmith Masters All]. Using proto-imbuing techniques alongside the Skill to calm the mana raging within the Rift seems plausible.

  The concept of purification eludes me. I press more mana into cleaning the Rift, trying to make up the difference. It whirs and pops, but fails to take hold, fizzling out entirely. Purifying the mana will have to wait for another opportunity.

  I dive headfirst through the roiling, tar-like surface of the Rift portal, praying that crossing the dimensions won’t break the connection through my Domain, and crash into the hard dirt of my home plane.

  The world spins around me wildly. I grab my stomach with a groan, forcing my bile back down before I vomit.

  Shrieking, the other four tumble out of the Rift a minute later, slamming into me.

  This time, I throw up all over myself.

  “You dropped us onto hard rocks!” Marta accuses, glaring at me and holding her knee, which looks twice its usual size. She must have landed on it badly.

  “Better luck next time,” I mutter to myself, standing up and dusting myself off.

  “We almost died!” Trevour shouts.

  “That’s the trick. Almost dying beats really dying every time,” I gasp out, trying to catch my breath after the dizzying dash back toward safety while stabilizing the collapsing Rift long enough to escape. “Nice work! Couldn’t ask for a better first run. I gotta get my hands on the portable portal prognosticator again to find more wild Rifts.”

  “Not sure I’m up for a second,” Club says, stepping away from me uneasily.

  “Hey! You did great. This was a priceless opportunity, since I can’t reliably find new Rifts anymore. Stupid [Viceroy] Tapirs, taking away my fun toys. Gonna give him a piece of my mind when he comes back to life,” I mutter.

  My new friends all stare at me with their mouths agape, though I’m not sure if it’s from the near-death experience in the wild Rift, or hearing me mumbling casually about one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, although my talk of coming back to life probably sounds like utter nonsense.

  Either way, they’re probably regretting the strange series of choices that led to this improbable and insane twist to their otherwise perfectly normal day.

  Admittedly, I often have that effect on people. Maybe I’ve become the sort of mad wizard Mom used to warn me about. Better check I haven’t evolved my Class into something crazy.