The Gate Traveler

The last line of the circle glowed as I lifted the brush, each rune pulsing with a soft, eerie glow in the dim light, and then faded. We both stepped back, taking a moment to survey our work—the result of three focused, silent hours. Just as the magic settled, Mahya turned to me, her face uncharacteristically uncertain.

“Do you… want us to connect the core to you?” Her voice was soft, almost hesitant.

I blinked, thrown by the suggestion. “Wait, where’s this coming from? I thought we were connecting it to you—for the jeep, wasn’t that the plan?”

She shrugged, glancing at the circle as if it might provide answers. “I don’t know… it just felt fair to ask. Al doesn’t want a core right now, and we’re both using them. You have one, I have one… so…” She trailed off, meeting my eyes. “I asked.”

“You want me to take the core? Is it a strain or something?” I tilted my head, trying to figure out the reason for the question.

Mahya shook her head. “No. Just asking.”

I thought I knew where this was coming from and didn’t have a good answer. I told her many times that she owed me nothing for saving her life and fixing her channels, but sometimes feelings and logic don’t necessarily align.

An idea sparked in my mind, and I grinned. “I have an idea. Let’s do rock-paper-scissors.”

Her face lit up, enthusiasm replacing the earlier uncertainty. “Excellent idea.”

We faced each other, hands at the ready. “One, two, three,” I counted, and my paper wrapped around her stone.

“One, two, three,” she counted, and her stone broke my scissors.

Al, who had been watching with folded arms, finally spoke up, his tone dry and laced with amusement. “You know that the two of you are absurd, correct?”

Mahya and I glanced at each other, sharing a confused look. “Why?” she asked, her head tilting slightly.

“Because we are in a dungeon right now. When we finish, we will have another core. So you are now deciding who will be the dungeon master of two cores a few hours longer than the other.” Al spoke slowly, as if he were explaining something very simple to a couple of clueless children.

Mahya and I exchanged sheepish grins, the absurdity of the situation dawning on us. We both laughed. Al shook his head, a look of exasperated patience on his face, and let out a deep sigh.

“Come on, let’s hook you up,” I said, still chuckling as I gestured for Mahya to get ready.

After completing the ritual and connecting her to the core, we moved on to the next task. We followed the same procedure as with the first core. We carefully placed the core on the board with the material absorption circuit, then lowered it into the water. This core was slightly bigger than the boat core, so I expected it to absorb a little more. To my surprise, it absorbed a lot more—so much more that it took maybe six or seven hours, and the lake was more than half empty by the end.

Finally, Mahya let out a relieved sigh and said, “That’s it, it can’t take any more.”

I stretched, feeling the stiffness in my back and legs. “Thank goodness,” I muttered. My butt was numb from sitting for hours on the jet ski, and I couldn’t have been happier that it was over.

Mahya stored the boat, and I tossed my core into the water with instructions to absorb everything. My core was a star. In less than an hour, the jet skis touched the bottom of the lake. It was surreal. The sides and ground were devoid of mud, sand, or stones—only the same indistinct haze that marked the dungeon’s boundaries remained.

A strange unease settled over me as I stared at the haze. For a moment, I hesitated, afraid that stepping off the jet ski would send me plummeting through the fog. But when I saw Mahya and Al dismount with no trouble, I exhaled, shaking off the fear, and carefully stepped down as well.

We stood inside a perfect sphere, the boundaries marked by the dense haze that defined the dungeon’s limits. I spun slowly in place, taking in the eerie sight. About halfway up the sphere, I noticed an arched opening.

Al pointed toward it. “The opening to the second floor.”

Mahya and I nodded in agreement. She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Shall we continue, or rest and continue tomorrow? It took us a long time with the cores.”

“We’ll rest and continue,” I decided.

We spent the rest of the day in the sphere, but this time, I opened my house, setting it up in its smaller configuration. The following day, I woke to find about ten centimeters of water covering the bottom of the sphere. As I surveyed the area, a small green shark suddenly launched itself toward me. Reflexively, I reached out with telekinesis and caught it in mid-air. With a quick gesture, I sent a tiny bolt of lightning through the creature and cast the harvest spell on it. The entire encounter lasted less than a minute.

“Very efficient,” Mahya remarked, a hint of amusement in her voice as she watched me.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Yes, it is—provided you don’t have hundreds of them jumping at you all at once.”

After breakfast, Mahya jumped up into the opening. Rue flew by himself, and I took off with Al on my back. When we reached the opening, we passed through a force field, emerging on the other side to find a staircase. I looked left and right, confused. From water to stairs? How does that make any sense? After a second, I shook my head and followed them down the steps.

The descent seemed endless, taking almost five minutes before we finally arrived at an opening resembling a cave’s mouth. Jagged stones lined the floor, making each step dangerous as we carefully navigated around them. The sight before us was unexpected when we exited through another cave opening.

Stretching out in front of us was a seemingly endless grassland, with wild grass reaching up to our knees. I tilted my head back, squinting as the sun shone brightly in the sky. Glancing around, I realized we were standing on top of a hill, but when I turned back, the cave we had just emerged from had vanished.

“Where is the cave we came out of?” I asked, perplexed.

“Don’t know,” Al replied, shaking his head.

“I’ve heard of dungeons like this,” Mahya said. “But I didn’t expect to find one here.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“That there’s no going back, only forward until the dungeon is conquered,” Mahya explained. “My father told me about them. He and my mother encountered such a dungeon in a world with a mana level of 45. It’s very rare. They traveled together for more than two centuries and only encountered one.”

“Is there anything special about them?” I asked, glancing around at the endless grassland.

“I’m not sure,” Mahya admitted, her brow furrowed. “The one my father told me about gave them an exceptional reward. If I remember correctly, each of them got three spell scrolls. But I might be confusing it with another story—they had a lot of stories when I was growing up.”

A sudden thought struck me, and I looked around warily. “Guys, don’t you think it’s weird that we’ve been chatting here for a few minutes, and nothing has attacked us?”

They looked around, their eyes scanning the horizon, and then shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the calm.

I was getting worried, but then I looked at Rue and calmed down. He lay with his head on his front paws, gazing at the scenery with a relaxed demeanor. Our senses were good, but they couldn’t compare to Rue’s. I trusted him; if something dangerous approached, we’d know.

“What do you want to do?” I asked, glancing at the others.

They both scanned the area again before Mahya spoke up. “Rue, could you check that there’s nothing dangerous? If so, run back to us.”

“Yes mini boss!” Rue replied with enthusiasm.

Al and I burst into laughter, and Mahya raised an eyebrow, smiling. “That’s new.”

Rue wagged his tail, radiating waves of smugness. He was very pleased with himself. He trotted off from us, and we settled on the hill to wait. Rue ran in ever-increasing circles, and at one point, I had to pull out my binoculars to keep an eye on him.

Al and Mahya chatted quietly while I lay back, staring at the artificial sun. It looked so real—sun, blue sky, clouds—just like we were outside.

I must have drifted off at some point because the next thing I knew, a hand was on my shoulder, gently shaking me awake. When I opened my eyes, the sun was on the other side of the grassland.

Rue stood nearby, panting, his tongue lolling out to the side of his mouth.

“Dungeon empty,” he announced.

“What do you mean, empty?” I asked, sitting up.

“Rue find no monsters, empty,” he repeated, with a satisfied nod.

For the first time, I saw on Mahya’s and Al’s face an expression that mirrored my own—utter cluelessness.

“What do you want to do now?” Mahya asked, sounding unsure.

“I have no idea,” I replied, shrugging.

“Let’s start gathering materials,” Al suggested.

It was as good an idea as any.

He walked over, plucked some stalks of grass, and after chewing on a few, remarked, “It is good for potion bases, but I do not think I need this much.” He gestured broadly, arms outstretched to encompass the entire grassland. “Let us start picking, and I will let you know when it is enough.”

He began pulling blades of grass from the ground, but I had a better idea. Reaching into my Storage, I pulled out three manual lawnmowers and handed one to each.

Mahya looked at me, puzzled. “Why do you have something like this?”

“Because when we shopped at home improvement stores, I bought everything that didn’t require electricity,” I explained.

“Smart,” Mahya said, nodding in approval.

We moved back and forth across the grassland, cutting and storing the grass. As we worked, I couldn’t help but shake my head in disbelief over and over. I didn’t have words, not even thoughts.

Al noticed and asked, “What is the matter with your head? Why do you keep shaking it?”

“Because I can’t believe I’m in another world. Another world! And here I am, mowing the lawn.”

They both stared at me, eyebrows raised, as if I’d just spoken in a foreign language. It probably hadn’t been their job to mow the lawn since they were seven—in every house they’d ever set foot in, no less. To them, the sight of me, utterly baffled yet pushing the mower back and forth, must’ve seemed absurd. But I just kept at it, shaking my head in disbelief. Some situations are just too surreal to process, and this? This was definitely one of them. I was mowing the lawn in another world!

When it got dark, we called it a day and went to sleep. The next day, we continued collecting grass. By noon, judging by the sun directly overhead, Al finally said, “That is enough for me.”

Maya took out the board with the magic circle, placed the first core on it, and dumped a grass pile onto the circle. Nothing happened.

“What’s going on?” I asked, frowning.

“The core is full of water. It hasn’t processed everything yet. I’ll try with the other one,” Maya explained.

She tried the second core, but the result was precisely the same—nothing.

I took out my core and looked at it. The thought of mowing kilometers of grass wasn’t appealing, especially knowing there were quite a few kilometers. I decided to try something different, and placed my core on the ground and commanded, “Absorb it all.”

Truth be told, I wasn’t expecting much. I figured I’d have to roll the core around like a ball to get it to work. But I was wrong. So, so very wrong. For a moment, it seemed as if the grassland had warped, and then, like a distorted image, everything started flying toward my core. The scene was a swirling mix of green, yellow, and brown, like a chaotic blend of acrylic paints being sucked into the core—no soil, no grass—just a whirl of colors.

The three of us stood there, stunned.

This went on for hours. At some point, the shock wore off. Al spread a carpet, and we took out drinks and food, turning the situation into an impromptu picnic. Rue was particularly pleased when he discovered I had saved three snake steaks for him.

When the sun was at the valley’s far end, it was finally empty. Again, the ground we were standing on was the dungeon’s haze. We looked around, scanning the area—even using binoculars—but there was nothing. There was no opening, no door, no passage, no floor guardian—nothing at all.

We looked at each other, and it was clear that they were just as confused as I was. This was the weirdest dungeon I’d ever heard of. I’ve read several books, but nothing like this has ever come up.

“What do you want to do?” Al asked, his voice uncertain.

Maya shrugged and shook her head, clearly at a loss.

“Let’s go to sleep,” I suggested. “We’ll figure out a solution tomorrow.”

In the morning, Maya suggested, “Why don’t you do a flyby over the area? You might see something from above.”

It was a good idea that had crossed my mind before falling asleep. “Yeah, that’s what I was going to do.”

I hovered above the ground and started flying over the valley—plain—whatever it was. Despite flying back and forth and scanning the ground below, I couldn’t spot anything unusual. I then headed towards the hazy borders of the dungeon, flying parallel to them. After completing an entire circuit around the area, I still found nothing.

Next, I flew upwards along the dungeon’s boundary. It didn’t take long for the shape of the dungeon to reveal itself—it was a dome. From the ground, we couldn’t see it; we saw what appeared to be a blue sky with clouds and a sun, or a black sky with stars and a moon at night. But now, as I traced the dungeon’s outline, it became clear that the sky and clouds were merely illusions projected onto the haze marking the dungeon’s boundaries.

When I reached the highest point of the dome, I looked down and estimated that I was about a kilometer and a half or two kilometers above the ground. What caught my eye, though, was the “sun,” floating about two hundred meters below me.

“You sneaky little shit,” I muttered under my breath.

I flew toward the “sun,” but the closer I got, the more intense the heat became. Eventually, it became unbearable, forcing me to back off. I hovered, trying to think of a solution. I believed I was on the right track, but if I couldn’t get close enough, it wouldn’t matter.

An idea struck me. I took out a large mirror and flew back toward the “sun,” using the mirror to reflect the rays. It helped a little—some of the heat deflected, but I could still feel it.

I retreated again, hovering for about twenty minutes, mulling over my options. Then inspiration hit. As an experiment, I took out my core and commanded, “Give me back 10 milliliters of the water you absorbed.” My hands immediately grew wet.

Yes! Success!

With a surge of renewed confidence, I hovered above the “sun” once more, pushing closer than before—until I was barely fifty meters above its molten surface. The air was thick, shimmering with waves of blistering heat. Gripping the core tightly in both hands, I issued the command, “Release the water you’ve absorbed in a steady stream, but not too strong.”

Water flowed from the core, cascading in a controlled torrent toward the scorching surface below. The instant it hit, steam erupted, rolling up in thick clouds that clawed at my skin and face. It was like standing in the heart of a sauna, each breath feeling heavier, saturated with heat. Yet, inch by inch, I edged closer, pushing through the sweltering haze.

With each advance, the warmth intensified, wrapping around me in a smothering embrace. I felt sweat trickle down my forehead, almost sizzling away as the damp air clung to me. But finally, after several long minutes of this heated "showering," I reached the point where I hovered just close enough to touch the “sun.”

A small green stone tumbled into my hand, its surface warm and shimmering faintly in the light. I quickly stored it away, making a mental note to examine it later. With a firm grip, I reached for the core, but the heat radiating from it was intense—still too hot to handle for long. I directed a fresh stream of water over it, watching as steam hissed and rose, cooling it down little by little until the glow dulled slightly.

Once the steam cleared, I could feel the core cooling beneath my fingers, though it was still warm enough to make my skin prickle. Reluctantly, I fished out a pair of thick gloves, tugging them on before wrapping my hands around the core. With a deep breath, I hoisted it up, the weight feeling solid and familiar in my grip, and flew back down.

When I finally landed, Al, Mahya, and Rue were already waiting, eyes bright with curiosity. As they reached out to touch the core, a small green stone appeared in each of their hands, just like mine. Their reactions couldn’t have been more different from mine, though. They marveled, wide-eyed and fascinated, while I rubbed my gloves together, still feeling the residual heat lingering in my hands.

Mahya jumped up, thrusting her fist into the air with a loud “Yes!”

Al looked at his stone with the biggest smile I’d ever seen on him and said, “I do not believe this.”

Their excitement intrigued me, so I took out my stone and used Identify.

Affinity Stone Nature

 

Mahya’s tone was urgent as she told me, “Release the core. Don’t store it.”

“Why?” I asked, confused.

“Because we’re going to run this dungeon over and over and over again, until we’re sick of it.”

“Why?” I repeated, even to myself, sounding like a broken record.

“Because affinity stones are pretty much the rarest thing you can find. They’re worth as much as a core.”

“What exactly is it?” I asked, still not fully understanding.

“It gives control over an affinity. I don’t think you need it—you can learn it on your own since you’re a wizard with an elemental talent. But for us, the common people, we’re limited to spells we can buy from the Guidance or those provided by our class. Affinity is different. It grants control over a specific element—not spells, control. For example, I’m pretty sure your lightning is a lightning affinity, and your ability to fly is a wind affinity. That’s something we can’t learn or purchase through the Guidance. This stone unlocks an affinity.”

“Huh,” I responded, realizing that I had nothing more intelligent to say.

I looked around and saw a shimmering archway on top of the hill. Our exit. I really hoped the dungeon would regenerate fast. I didn’t feel like spending months in a spooky swamp.