Sand decided that he hated the sea as the Wavestrider ploughed through a wave, drenching the deck with surf before climbing the near-vertical face of another, building-high wave. He had to hang on to the railings of the ship with a white-knuckled grip; doubly securing himself by locking his legs around the metal bars to stop himself from being washed out into the water – or being blown off the ship by the furious winds that constantly buffeted him. High above him, purple lighting lit the dark, overcast vault of heaven and cast vivid highlights on the raging waters.

He shot an envious glance towards the prow of the ship where Ezekiel operated the wheel, seemingly oblivious of the nauseating roll and yaw of the ship or its rapidly shifting orientation. Only a careful scrutiny of his feet would reveal the electric sparks playing on his steel-soled boots, attaching him firmly to the metal deck. Other than the two of them, elemental beings of violet lightning manned the deck assisting in the operation of the ship.

Lirael had cosseted herself away belowdecks, anchoring her Dungeon to the ship and escaping into it to evade the stormy ride. Unfortunately, Sand had been detained above the deck by Ezekiel to ‘find his sea-legs’. It was apparently important for that mysterious Contest he refused to divulge any details about.

As they crested the wave, hanging suspended for an instant that stretched to eternity, Sand affirmed that he really, really hated the sea. Then the Wavestrider tipped over the edge and plunged into the abyssal darkness between waves.

Drenched, shivering, and thoroughly miserable, Sand flared his Aura to warm himself up and dry his body. The water in the Bay of Storms was frigid and the constant dunking coupled with the bone-chilling winds hadn’t done him any favours. As steam rose off him and a little colour returned to his cheeks, a violent, gut-wrenching nausea assaulted him. Making his way unsteadily over to the edge of the ship, he emptied the contents of his stomach over its rusty, moss-covered side.

He cursed himself for not fusing an Iron Gut shard; for anything that entered a stomach modified by that shard, never left – from either side.

After dry-heaving for a while and feeling like he was going to turn himself inside-out, he forcibly suppressed the urge to vomit and took deep, calming breaths of the salt-scented air. Straightening up, he looked out over the vast expanse of water and sky. It was a world removed from the furious tempest they had so recently left behind; no waves and not a single cloud in sight. The mirror-smooth water reflected the river of stars arcing across the moonless night, making it seem like the ship was drifting across the heavens themselves.

Sand heard footsteps behind him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” asked Lirael walking up to his side and leaning her elbows on the railing. Tucking an errant strand of her hair behind her ear, she looked out over the sea. “It’s much more beautiful in the daytime. The water is clearer than glass and under bright sunlight you can see the very bottom. It’s a riot of colours down there, with a wide variety of corals covering the sea floor, dyeing it in every hue imaginable. That’s why they call it the Sea of a Thousand Colours – the Thousand Seas.”

Despite his miserable introduction to the marine environment, Sand couldn't help but find the horizon-spanning body of water intriguing. After all, he had never set foot beyond the desert for the entirety of his past life. It was his first time at sea, and he was finding the sudden inversion of land and water hard to adapt to. But that didn’t stop him from appreciating the breath-taking sight before him.

“Yes,” admitted Sand, “Beautiful.”

The perpetual storm raging in the Bay seemed to have sapped all the energy out of the air and no breeze disturbed the calm. Caught in the doldrums, the Wavestrider floated aimlessly upon the water without anything to push it along.

Ezekiel unfurled the sails with the help of the lightning elementals, and a magical wind arose baseless, stretching the canvas taut with a snap. Propelled by the breeze, the ship lurched forward and cut through the still waters, leaving an expanding cone of ripples in its wake.

After ensuring that the ship was shore bound, Ezekiel set one of the lightning elementals at the wheel and joined Sand and Lirael. “The Sea is a whimsical mistress,” he said, his tone reverent. “Even a Dungeon Mage is insignificant in front of her. The best we can do is pray that we always see her smile, never her frown.” He turned to face Sand. “Though we do not have a sanctioned state religion in the Enzeal Kingdom, the Goddess of Storm and Sea is the deity with the largest following. Boy, interested in joining?”

“Uncle!” protested Lirael, “Can you please stop trying to convert my Champion to your faith? I told you I don’t want to believe in any God or Goddess. Getting him to join the Church won’t sway me.” To Sand, she explained, “He is a Cardinal of the Church of Storm and Sea. He’s been trying to convince me to join since forever.”

Ezekiel shrugged. “It was worth a try. And your Champion doesn’t necessarily have to follow your faith.”

Sand wasn’t completely opposed to the idea of joining an organization Lirael wasn’t part of to get some much-needed distance from her, but that came later. For now, getting in her good books was much more important.

“Thank you, my Lord, but this one will follow the Mistress’ example.” He didn’t want to get caught up in something like religion before he completely understood what exactly it entailed. But he kept the Church’s invitation firmly in mind.

Ezekiel shrugged again. “Let me know if you ever change your mind,” he said before turning to the sea and closing his eyes. “Our doors are always open for new acolytes.” His lips began moving in silent prayer.

For a while, silence descended upon the trio, broken only by the sound of the water splashing against the hull of the ship and the flapping of the sails in the magical wind. Finishing his prayer, Ezekiel opened his eyes and asked Sand, “Do you know what happens to a Dungeon after its owner’s death?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

When Ezekiel urged him to continue, he gathered his thoughts and began, “When a Dungeon Mage dies, one of three things can happen. The first case is when the Dungeon is so damaged that it collapses and decomposes into its constituent Auras. That then spreads out into the world, permanently altering the environment of the region where the mage died, bringing it closer to the environment of the Dungeon.

“In the second case, the Dungeon survives the death of the mage and is inherited by their successor. The successor can be either a Tier 5 peak mage who has yet to condense their Embryonic Dungeon, or it can be someone who has built their Dungeon using the same Formula as the dying mage.

“Finally, if the mage hasn’t designated a successor properly, it just falls where they died and merges with the world, turning into something akin to a naturally occurring Dungeon. A dimensional pocket – a separate space. Their only difference with a natural Dungeon being the existence of a lingering Core Spirit that oversees its working.”

“Good,” commended Ezekiel. “You’ve learnt well, but you aren’t fully correct. Rather, there are gaps in your knowledge. The successor of a Dungeon doesn’t necessarily have to be someone with the exact same Dungeon formula.

“Even if the formula has been improved by the successor and changes have been made to it, they can still inherit the Dungeon if the resultant Dungeons are close enough to each other. A Dungeon, at its core, is a mix of the mage’s mana in the form of Genesis Stone, and external Aura that transforms the stone into the myriad environmental features of the Dungeon. As long as the Aura composition of two Dungeons are close enough, they can be fused together into a larger, more powerful Dungeon.”

Inserting herself into the conversation, Lirael added, “The only other way to increase the power of a Dungeon after it forms, beyond assimilating another Dungeon, is to manage the resources within it well so it expands naturally. This growth is obviously a much more gradual process."

Ezekiel nodded. “The reason I brought this up is because of the Champion’s Contest that we need you to participate in.”

‘Finally, thought Sand, pricking his ear up, ‘some information about that.’

“Since the conception of our race, we have been researching and experimenting with shards and Dungeons. There have been several Dungeon formulae that we have discovered from Beasts who managed to create their own Dungeons, and there have been several we have invented by studying nature and unlocking its secrets. Many of these Dungeons have been relegated to history for their lacklustre performance, while the best ones among them have been passed down from generation to generation or from the holder of a political post to their successor.

“In this manner, the Dungeons have grown stronger over time and the power of our family and the Kingdom has grown correspondingly. This also means that if any of our enemies manage to decode our Dungeon formulae, they will always be left chasing our tails. These Dungeons are the trademarks of the Enzeal family, not because only we can create them, but because of the thousands of years of research that has gone into improving them and identifying the most optimal method of managing them. They are our fields of expertise.”

Sand was realizing how high the hurdle in front of him really was. His goal might be lofty, but the roadblocks of practicality in his path were high enough to obscure even that. Just creating a Dungeon wasn’t enough, he would have to learn how to manage it perfectly if he wanted the best growth rates for his power. And even if he managed to achieve that somehow, he would still be millennia behind the high-level Dungeon Mages of the Elder Races. The amount of catching up he had to do was mind boggling.

Ezekiel continued, “Depending on which of these standard Dungeons we choose to cultivate, we are classed into Lineages. For example, I’m from the Storm Lineage, while Lirael here doesn’t belong to any of them as her Dungeon will be the first of its kind.

“Your task in the Contest will be to compete with the Champions of prominent youths from the other four Royal families and explore the Chimaera Dungeon.

“The Chimaera Dungeon was the Dungeon of our High Lord, Nosferatu Enzeal. It was the culmination of the entire Enzeal family’s magical research -- a fusion of the Dungeons from several of our Lineages.”

Sand’s eyes widened in shock.

‘Just how powerful is that Dungeon? How fast can it grow? Just how vast is it?' These questions bounced around in his mind. He didn’t know how many Lineages there were in the Enzeal family, or how many participated in the creation of the Chimaera Dungeon. But whatever the number, the Chimaera Dungeon must have been the pillar of the clan.

'No wonder the Enzeals declined so fast after losing their High Lord and access to the Chimaera Dungeon.’ He couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath as he tried to estimate the power of a High Lord. Each one had to be equivalent to tens of or even a hundred Dungeon Mages on their own.

'And there are four of these anomalies remaining.’

Noticing his reaction, Ezekiel nodded in satisfaction. “It’s good that you can grasp the significance of that so swiftly.” His tone grew low and deep, the regret clear in his voice. “Unfortunately, roughly three thousand years ago, there was an accident and we lost our High Lord along with access to the Chimaera Dungeon. That third scenario that you mentioned played out after Lord Nosferatu’s passing and the Chimaera Dungeon merged with the world, forming a natural Dungeon.”

He sighed. “Despite our best efforts to reclaim the Dungeon, it was all thwarted by the simple fact that the Core Spirit of the Dungeon sealed it off and threatened to detonate it if a Dungeon Mage tried to force their way in. It would only allow mages without a Dungeon in, to test their mettle as a potential successor. The only thing we could do was send mortal mages into it to explore in the hope that they would somehow gain the approval of the Spirit and claim the Dungeon.”

Sand frowned inwardly. There was a discrepancy with the information he had from his past life. A hundred years later in the timeline the Dungeon Mages of the Orcs had also been allowed access to the Chimaera Dungeon. ‘Maybe the Core Spirit decided to change the rules after a hundred years because no one was succeeding.’

“But there was a problem with that. The mages had to reach the very centre of the Dungeon – something made near impossible by the abundance of extremely strong Beasts that populated it. The first few batches to go in were completely annihilated. Thus, from then onward, we began sending Thralls in instead of the mages to map out and explore the way. Over the years, a lot of progress was made, and we were getting close to mapping out a complete safe route to the centre.”

He clenched his teeth. “Then the other four families began to meddle.”

Lirael took up the narrative. “They began to pressure us and under the combined threat of four High Lords, we had to cave and make concessions. Now, we still send our Thralls in every decade, but now we aren’t the only ones doing that. The other families send their chosen Thralls to expedite the Dungeon too.”

“But, Mistress, we still have a head start over them, right?” asked Sand.

Lirael nodded with a smile. “That we do. If the other families denied us even that, we threatened to destroy the Dungeon and then launch an attack a single one of the families at random. Since they couldn't predict which one that would be, they had to stay in line for fear of us perishing together with them.”

“Anyway,” said Ezekiel. “this is what the Champion’s Contest is all about. Over the years, it has evolved into an indirect competition between the promising juniors of the Five Royal Families as well as the families themselves. The focus has shifted from conquering the Dungeon to preventing the Enzeal from doing that, while at the same time, gleaning the secrets of the Dungeon little by little. For the past few competitions, the Enzeal contingent have always been the first to be eliminated before the four others tussle amongst themselves.”

His eyes flashed with violet electricity as he looked Sand right in the eye. “From you, I saw the hope of our team’s resurgence in the Contest. Don’t disappoint us.”