Micky and Ludwick had barely walked twenty steps down the staircase when the latter suddenly paused. The runes on the walls flashed brightly for an instant as a loud noise emanated from above, accompanied by a deep rumble that shook Marnok’s very bones.

  “What is going on?” Micky asked upon realizing that this was coming from the tomb that they’d just left behind.

  At first, it sounded like stone and metal were being ground to dust, though the sound of rushing water soon joined it.

  “Come on. We need to hurry up. This corridor will also get destroyed soon,” the Saint said, gesturing for Micky to follow as he resumed walking. “To prevent anyone from disturbing the Inheritor while he consumes the beast mana, we designed the tomb to collapse after our meeting. Anyone who relies on the same clues as you to search the lake will think that their information was false.”

  Micky frowned, not very happy about this. It was great that the beasts on the surface or any hostile sapients wouldn’t be able to chase them down here, but this created more problems than it solved.

  “How am I meant to survive without food? And how do you expect me to leave afterwards?” he asked again.

  Ludwick remained silent, appearing wholly uninterested in alleviating Micky’s worries.

  They reached the base of the staircase, only for their path to be blocked by a bronze wall, every square centimetre enchanted like the tomb’s surfaces. More runes lit up, forming a rectangular door slightly taller than a person. It sank by about a finger’s length before sliding to the right to reveal a cavern several times larger than the previous room.

  As soon as Marnok stepped through, the door closed behind him. The entire underground complex shook again as the staircase shattered and got flooded. Only, it appeared to be dirt and rock filling the corridor up this time instead of water from the lake.

  “So, what is this place?” Micky asked, scanning the cavern.

  It looked more natural than the previous room, its surfaces uneven and made of limestone rather than polished metal. It was illuminated too – though not by magic this time – allowing him to examine everything.

  A carpet of glowing moss covered the ground, Marnok’s boots sinking several centimetres into the spongy material even while standing still. The greenish-blue substance climbed halfway through the walls, a few thicker columns reaching all the way to the ceiling.

  On closer inspection, Micky did spot a few runes carved into the stone – at least on the bare patches not hidden behind the plant. However, these enchantments looked much simpler and scarcer than those in the tomb, indicating that their functionality wasn’t nearly as extensive.

  ‘These must be Robari’s version of preservation runes. I suppose Ludwick drew them to slow down the cave’s erosion.’

  The enchantments had to be running on ambient mana. Runes like that were quite common on most developed worlds – not just the Vault of Magic. The buildings in the Alchemists’ Guild on Remior used them too.

  Micky hadn’t bothered to learn any such enchantments in the past, focusing on more potent variants that required a mage’s mana, because those were more useful in combat.

  During his previous trips to the Vault, he’d lacked the credits or the time to master multiple variants of each rune, so he’d been forced to study the ones most suitable to him. Since then, his boosting art had also given him a way to cheat, allowing him to convert ambient into phantom mana from afar to feed his constructs.

  Sadly, his clones couldn’t do that without the correct affinity or the Carnival. Even when it came to his main bodies, having to manually activate every enchantment he used wasn’t always convenient.

  Fortunately, Micky was going to have a lot more time and credits during his next visit, so he should be able to broaden – not just deepen – his magiscript knowledge.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “This is where you’ll live for the foreseeable future,” Ludwick said, breaking him out of his thoughts. “After you use up the beast mana, you can exit through the tunnel over there,” he added, pointing to a section of the moss-covered wall to their left.

  Micky wouldn’t have noticed it by himself, but there was a narrow opening cutting through the plant, resembling a pair of living curtains that had failed to fully seal the exit.

  “Where does it lead?”

  “To the eastern coast of the island. You’ll have to dig through a couple dozen metres of sand and rock to reach the surface though,” the Saint replied. “I trust that won’t be a problem given your current grade – let alone your grade after a few advancements.”

  The demigod’s projection stepped forward again, walking through the moss and toward the back of the room. There, the floor was elevated by a few metres, forming a stone platform untouched by the glowing plant.

  On it, Micky spotted several objects that he’d have to examine from up close, though his attention was instantly drawn to something in the corner. It was a pile of coins, tall enough to bury his host. Rather than gold or silver, the coins shimmered in a deep amber colour, leaving no question as to their purpose.

  “That’s a lot of Fools’ Amber…” Micky said, creasing Marnok’s brow. “But less than I was expecting.”

  Every coin looked about as large as a single dose of elixir. Assuming that it was equally potent, and comparing it to his own stash on Remior, he estimated that the pile would last for a couple decades of daily cleansing. If he was right, that could be enough for Marnok to reach Green with both cores even in its concentrated state, and Blue – or even Violet with one of them – after diluting it.

  It wasn’t bad, yet Ludwick’s earlier words had made it sound like he and his colleagues had stashed away enough Amber for at least one Green-born to reach the Clear grade – if not several. This much would only get one to White, however.

  “It’s not all here,” the demigod said as they reached the platform. Hopping onto the raised stone, he waited for Micky to climb up too. “We split the beast mana into a thousand portions and hid each at a different location. All of it is enough for a hundred new demigods.”

  “Wait, you expect each ‘Inheritor’ to look for ten different tombs?!” Micky asked, finding that horribly impractical.

  Ludwick sighed. “It’s not ideal, but it was the only way to ensure that it wouldn’t all be lost if the wrong person stumbled upon one of the burial sites. Also, it forces the Green-borns to dilute their stash, so that it’ll last for more people.”

  Micky tilted his head, instantly seeing a problem with the Saints’ plan. “Don’t you risk many of the tombs being lost forever, or the Green-borns never finding enough?”

  “Indeed.” The demigod nodded. “However, our Inheritors don’t have to hunt for more tombs blindly. We picked a hundred special locations and sealed the means to find nineteen others in each of them. If an unqualified person finds one of the other nine hundred tombs, we only lose a single portion. Meanwhile, if they reach one of the special locations, our projections will try to eliminate them and seal the stash and the map away, to protect the other nineteen piles. That way, if only half of the special tombs end up in the right hands and the Inheritors use the excess mana sensibly, we could end up salvaging most of the beast mana to create over ninety new Saints.”

  Marnok’s eyes widened. The sailor was clearly as shocked as Micky to learn of the great lengths Ludwick and his colleagues had gone to, to give their world its best chance of rising up again.

  “So, does the fact that I found your projection here mean that this is one of the special tombs?” Micky asked.

  The question caused the demigod’s features to twist into a grimace. “I’m afraid so. What are the odds, that a Yellow-born with a second core would stumble upon this place? Now I’m forced to give you the map to nineteen other stashes, which will be entirely wasted on you.”

  Micky suppressed the urge to chuckle upon hearing the disappointment in Ludwick’s voice. Once again, he was tempted to remind him that Marnok had no interest in consuming so much beast mana. Even if that hadn’t been the case, he could teach his host the Cascading Cracks technique to make the pile last twice as long.

  However, he didn’t know whether the Saint would believe him and, frankly, he didn’t care that much about placating a mental projection that would fade away in a few minutes.

  “Where exactly is this map then?” Micky asked instead, scanning the stone platform for anything that might look the part.

  “It’s not a physical object,” Ludwick said, stopping him. “It would have been too risky to store such important information in a medium that could end up in the wrong hands. I’m only allowed to brand the locations of the other tombs directly into the mind of a verified Inheritor.”

  Micky cautiously stepped back from the Saint upon hearing that, not sure that he wanted anyone messing with his or Marnok’s minds. However, the demigod’s next words caused him to reconsider.

  “Oh, I should also point out that imparting the information comes with a small, unintentional benefit. It’ll grant you a modest new ability – one which you might be able to apply in other situations.”

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