Master Jujud smiled wide, standing on the edge of our floating platform. “Home at last!”

  She jumped off, falling several miles to the desert below.

  “Home?” Sip squinted. “I don’t see anything.”

  “That’s because you’re not Silver,” Soise stated. “They have ridiculous eyesight too. If I had to guess, she just jumped all the way to the academy.”

  He grunted. “This is stupid. Why can’t I have crazy magic powers?”

  As we finally reached the capital, Toya

  When we finally reached the capital, Toya put the floating crystals back into his inventory, dropping us steadily lower, landing in a heap on the academy courtyard.

  Toya frowned. “Master. Seriously?”

  Master Jujud was asleep, slumped against a wall.

  Soise rolled her eyes. “Where’s Screech?”

  I glanced at her, holding Screech close to my chest. “Yes?”

  “Relax,” Soise sighed. “The boy just needs to see a doctor. He’s hungry and tired, but nothing too serious. Still, if there’s any hidden curses the monster puts on him, we’d better know sooner rather than later.”

  She effortlessly plucked the sleeping boy from my grip. “And Grind? You’re a wreck. Don’t push yourself.”

  After a quick checkup, the Union nurse declared that I was fine, thanks to the surprising amount of health I had in reserve.

  That made me feel pretty good about myself.

  Unfortunately, before I’d even left the office, the restricting force in my bands had increased again, numbing my face.

  I’d definitely have to buy some levels before today was over.

  Master Tentazui tapped his knuckles on the wall, signalling the start of class right as I entered. “Grind. Good on you to join us.”

  Roid, Mikie, and several of the students began to snicker.

  I sat next to Sip, shooting him a glance.

  “They heard we failed a mission,” he whispered. “They’re jealous and are taking this rare opportunity to express what little momentary superiority they may feel.”

  I just looked at him.

  He paused. “What?”

  “...Nothing,” I muttered.

  The Master clasped his hands behind his back. “This week’s theme is Cores and Statistics.”

  Sip groaned. “This is going to be boring, isn’t it?”

  One of the other students shushed him.

  Master Tentazui continued. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, Cores are the only creatures in all regions and areas. They are burrow-type monsters who create dungeons over wells of neutral mana. Monsters come to feed on that mana. Cores eat those monsters, along with whatever portion of neutral mana they can digest, which, though it will not make them stronger, will keep them alive. When the Core gets strong enough, they eat their entire dungeon for a temporary boost in latent mana, then escape to the main dimensional plane, where they find a larger well. Core must be stronger to create a dungeon that can harness the full well, or the monsters the well draws will simply eat the core.”

  Sip mimicked snoring.

  Tentazui cleared his throat. “The less astute may assume Cores are all the same. In truth, there are over a hundred distinct types of cores, all of whom have unique gauntlet variations.”

  The screen flickered, displaying several types and percentages beneath them.

  “The most common kind of Core is a wanderer.” He summoned a map, waving it in the air. “As a species, they have no native region, nor native dungeon arrangements. They make up fifty five percent of the Core population, and aren’t all that dangerous. If a wanderer cannot find a suitable well in its native area, they will simply cross the border to a new one. Consequently, we can assume there are at least a few cores in every area.”

  The Master flicked the screen, bringing up a familiar image of tangled pieces.

  “While Wraths aren’t technically Core’s they’re very similar, creating pockets of a dungeon in an open area. Unlike Cores, Wraths are ambush predators. They make their dungeon appear normal, then attack with all their power, all at once, leaving them weakened for a period of time. Thankfully, these are native solely to the second area.”

  Another monster.

  “Executioner Cores make up twenty three percent of the population,” Master Tentazui stated. “They become more like what they kill, gaining additional exp from their directory, which is a set of objectives created by their gunalet, ordering them to kill only certain kinds of creature. Humans are always an objective. In order to gain exp, Executioners create incredibly specialized dungeons, drawing in their prey’s favorite source of food, or providing shelter. These monsters are usually weaker than a normal Core, since it’s harder for them to get exp, but if they’re in the right area, with the right monsters, these Cores grow the fastest.”

  The screen shimmered.

  “An Ancient Core lives on fault lines, usually deep in the ocean.” Master Tentazui summoned plates of earth, holding them up in the air. “This world has a Core of molten magical metals, similar to Earth’s molten core. The process of nuclear fusion heats these metals to a blistering degree, causing them to release a steady stream of potent neutral mana, which then leaks out through the world in geothermal energy. Unlike most Cores, an Ancient Core has no interest in eating people. They are specialized to only consume neutral mana, changing the purpose of their dungeons. These are built in the main dimension, rather than offshoots, and serve to collect as much magical energy as possible and as a fortress to keep the Core safe from all the monsters that also want the neutral energy. Their power is so vast relative to the area, it almost always results in irregular weather patterns.”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  By this point, I could feel a migraine catching on, and my hand ached to record any semblance of notes.

  Master Tentzui smiled. “It is also illegal to kill one, as per Union law. Instead, report their existence, and we’ll chart their location. Ancient Cores take up resources other monsters use. Unlike other monsters, they grow slowly, usually for thousands of years, amassing power, which they solely use to gain more power. While we assumed they are native to only the second area, we recently found one in the third. Unfortunately, these cores make up just five percent of the population.”

  “Those sound cool,” I whispered, though still in tremendous mental pain. If they were intelligent, I could probably learn a lot from them and, unlike Reggie, they probably wouldn’t try to kill me. “Think we could find one?”

  “Find one?” Sip just stared at me. “You…you’re…you’re joking. Right? Seriously?”

  Master Tantazui raised an eyebrow.

  Sip shrank back, pretending to zip up his mouth.

  The moment Master Tantazui started talking again, Sip nudged my arm.

  “I’ve got just the rumor,” he whispered, grinning wide. “Xoiae.”

  “Huh?” I asked.

  “Headmaster Xoiae,” Sip stated. “Did you notice anything odd about her? Like, for instance, the way spacetime freaks out when it gets too close to her skin? Or her glowing eyes?”

  I blinked. “Xoiae—”

  “Is an Ancient Core.” Sip grinned. “She built the school, Grind. A school larger than most entire dungeons, with, might I add, multiple floors! Hmmmm?? How haven’t you put that together?”

  A Core could pass for a human being? Sure she spent most of her time inside the building, and she was pretty secluded—

  She had a name. Because she had a real name, her tag ‘core of the gauntlet of whatever’ never showed up.

  Cores could hide in human society.

  This might be the largest cover up in union history!---

  Haaaaaannnnnggggg on a second.

  “Couldn’t she just be really strong?” I asked. “She hasn’t like, eaten anybody, has she? And her name tag wasn’t red when I saw it.And she doesn’t have pointy teeth. She owns a cat, for crying out loud. Isn’t there any evidence?”

  Sip glanced at the floor. “Well…uhm. No. No, not really.”

  Some of the students started snickering again.

  Tentazui changed the screen, displaying a knot of wire. “Now, there are two ‘complex’ types of cores. Devourers and Special Types, also known as Bloodletters, Mitigators, or Adaptors. These are absolutely not something to mess around with. If you see any sign of one during a mission, leave the mission and we’ll send in someone gold or better.”

  Silence engulfed the room.

  Roid raised his hand. “I mean, we can still take a one-star devourer, right?”

  Master Tentazui just looked at him.

  Roid swallowed.

  “A devourer’s star is irrelevant,” Master Tentazui stated. “Completely, utterly irrelevant. A devourer is a parasite.”

  He pulled up images, and my breath went cold.

  Dummies had been set up with lumps of elements ontop of them, wrapped around their arms and legs.

  “In the same way a Wanderer manipulates the earth, a devourer manipulates its host’s body, using their own natural mana. Devourers are limited to the power of the body they have, seeking out for stronger bodies. When they find something better, they kill their host, absorbing their exp, and using that power to take over their next victim.”

  “Thankfully, they're exceptionally rare. Even so, they are the second most common cause of death in the modern age. That is because idiot players assume they’re just another monster, the parasite latches on, and that player spend the next few weeks of their short life trying to get the parasite out, before it takes control of their mind, leaving them as a semi-conscious husk, forever trapped in a loop of pain.”

  A panicked student raised his hand. “Master, how do we kill those?”

  “Kill the host,” Master Tentazui sighed. “I’m afraid that’s your only option. Then, once it leaves the dead host, break its crystal. Both its crystal and host must be dead, or it’ll stay alive.”

  Severe the relationship to its host. Break the Crystal.

  But you’d have to kill a person in order to do it.

  I grimaced, rubbing my stomach. “There goes my appetite.”

  Sip was now paying a whole lot more attention to the lecture. He was also sweating and shivering.

  “Those are things.”

  He closed the images, bringing up another. This time, of a smiling man.

  “Finally, we have the Special cases. Normally, a core’s intelligence increases the amount of exp they eat. These special cases are all unique, forming one percent of Core variation. The only constant factor is this : when they kill intelligent life, they gain a portion of intelligence. Some Special Cores don’t even have a dungeon. Some don’t have a central crystal, which regulates their power through their body, and through the dungeon. Some don’t even have an entity, which they are expressed through, instead using any of the materials around themselves, and yes this is different than a wrath. If you see a Core do something odd, assume it is a Special Type, and flee with your life. That is true of all monsters. The moment they begin to behave irregularly, assume the worst, and get away.”

  He brushed the screen aside, summoning a new projection, this time, filling up the entire wall.

  “One last thing. A Core’s Star ranking can be misleading. The difference between a One-Star and a Two-Star is exactly ten, or one order of magnitude. But the difference between a Two-Star and a Three star is greater.”

  He snapped his fingers, showing a graph, filled with ranks from Dirt, all the way up to Gold.

  “Each star is star number orders of magnitude stronger than the star before it, or ????=10????????1”

  “Maaattthhh,” Sip hissed, clutching his head in both hands. “Just use words…”

  “Math is fun.”

  “Nerd.”

  “That may be hard to visualize, so I’ll say it like this,” Master Tentazui began. “A Three Star is a hundred times stronger than a Two star. If a One Star is about Dirt in power, a Two star is about Tin. Not very strong. Meanwhile, a Three star is Iron, while, if you have a string of some of the worst luck imaginable, you find yourself facing a four-star, they’ll be at the power of a silver.”

  Hang on.

  “Where’s Tungsten?”

  Sip frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “But!” Master Tentazui snapped, raised his finger. “Their power is grossly misleading. There is no jump between one star to the next. Instead, their power is gradual. Meaning, a two star core that sheds its dungeon is actually as strong as a three star. If you see a Core anywhere except in their dungeon, assume they are at least a star stronger than the game says they are.”

  I raised my hand. “Master Tentazui? Where’s Tungsten?”

  “Nerd,” Sip whispered, poking me in the ribs.

  “Tungsten…” Master Tentazui frowned. “Where would you see a Tungsten?”

  “A…place,” I said, with a shrug. “Kizota?”

  Master Tenazui scoffed. “Kizota is a Low Osmium.”

  Gasp echoed through the crowded hall.

  Tentazui concentrated, editing the graph with a burst of mental focus.

  There, three places above gold, Osmium had been written in bright sparkling letters.

  Master Tentazui smiled. “When a player of a higher area comes back the second, they will be granted the title of a certain grade of Osium, signaling their relative power. Kizota was brought from the third area, hence her title.”

  One step below Osmium, there was Platinum.

  “Platinum is the highest natural title you can get in the second area,” Tentaziu stated. “It signals anywhere from one to two billion.”

  Finally, one below Platinum, there was Tungsten, signaling a power of one hundred million to one billion.

  Reggie was at a power of one hundred million or greater.

  I swallowed hard.

  That might be a problem.

  // {Notice} //

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