Alone now, he kept practicing. He imagined starting a mystic arts school and being all secretive about training disciples and having hidden master techniques. But it'd be more fun to publish guides that let anybody learn this stuff. Everyone assumed that that the System was the only way to advance. You either devoted half of your very limited supply of classes and levels and feats to magic, or you'd never be good at it. Though anyone with the right stats and skills could still get his numbers to a useful size, with high Learning and two points of Elemental Magic or something. Even now he was thinking about what to spend and raise when spring started.

He hardly knew anybody who cared about trying to learn skills outside of the System's prompts and rewards.

The dungeon out there was working with Mana from outside itself to create something within, like monsters. Something about its tainted nature caused it to make only these undead things and a desultory amount of iron 'treasure'. If it really did contain something of the murderous Necromancer's consciousness, then he was glad the guy hadn't been a military strategist! Which raised the question of how much the dungeon's extra-hostile behavior was due to the 'lich' being a serial killer with death magic. He could imagine similar experiments being done with a would-be immortal who had different powers. Like, oh, a powerful nobleman who then wanted to destroy the evidence of a failed experiment he'd been involved in.

Vonn was about to go back to bed when there was a knock on the door. Vonn was the only one awake enough to answer it. Ralator's Kobold servant stood there bandaged and favoring one leg. He hunched over in the cold wind despite his warm clothes. "Oh, good, you're up. My master sends for you."

Vonn reluctantly went outside, yawning. "What for?"

"He wanted to ask something."

Vonn was surprised to discover the mighty wizard had rented a barn. It smelled of hay and moldering wood, but Ralator had hung up curtains and set up tolerable cots and chairs with legs that unfolded. Or rather, the servant had done it. The old sage sat there drinking hot cider with honey, and offered Vonn a cup.

Vonn accepted gratefully. "You had questions, sir?"

"You and your friends left me a whole pile of mysteries. I must ask: in your supposed past life, did you or the others ever practice any sort of necromancy or blood magic?"

Vonn was torn between wanting to laugh, and thinking back to the bloodstained altar he'd seen in the depths of Kolm's Fell. "No, there was no such thing. Not in any literal sense."

"I see. Today wasn't exactly ideal research conditions, though it does bring back a little of the old days." He flexed his silver-scaled hands, examining them. "It feels good to fling mighty blasts at targets who have no families."

"I'm sure you did what you had to, in the war."

Ralator grunted. "Anyway, your colleague Polestar got identified as somehow especially useful, for his blood. I don't fully understand the rituals involved in this tainted dungeon, and am not sure I want to. But it seems his soul shares some magical quirk with you. One that carries a whiff of death or rebirth."

Vonn's tail flicked uneasily. "Is it dangerous?"

"I don't think so, but evil men may see the three of you as a catalyst for spells. The kind that I hope you have no interest in casting. It seems this is a side effect of escaping death. Maybe the System pays you a little extra attention."

Vonn asked, "Have you been allowed to study the dark magicite, what little there is of it?"

Ralator drank. "The stuff has no useful applications, certainly none worth going through the trouble of generating more for." He set his cup down and stared hard into Vonn's eyes. "None."

Vonn gulped. "I understand, sir." He thought of a certain manual of internal Human anatomy, useful to doctors, which was unusually vivid and lifelike. As though drawn from living subjects' innards. Whatever use these tainted shards might have, it was worse, since it seemed to require active and continuous sacrifice.

Ralator tapped one claw on the cup and coaxed his servant to refill their drinks. "I have at least learned something from studying the foul ingredients, along with the nicer ones you provided. I don't yet have a way to attune shards to a gravity effect, or to convert shards to the gold color. So, nothing that greatly helps your machine work. Instead it touches on a magical topic, the question of whether raw force should be considered an element."

"How so?"

"The eight elements: fire and ice, earth and air, light and dark, lightning and sound. You've learned the basics of what, four?"

"I just learned fire in a very practical exercise."

"That's good progress for you, since it's typically harder to start learning the ones opposed to your first few. So, what about force? Is it totally separate? That's an unsatisfying answer since it's unpaired. Perhaps the antigravity effect is its complement."

"Maybe? I don't know."

"Ha. There are experts with strong opinions either way on the subject. For now, though, do you need your samples back?"

"Leave us with one or two bits, please. Something to play with after the current crisis."

#

Vonn went back to bed. In the morning, everybody got roused early for a quick meal of berry porridge and buttery bread. Their dealer was a grateful Kobold mother whose son had been in yesterday's fight.

"Maybe we can finish this today, ma'am," said Polestar.

"Aren't you scared?"

"Course I am. Still have to do it."

They went out to join the troops. The Elven lord was finishing a platter of grilled meat and fruit. "Good, you're here. Can you get the aircraft flying today?"

Vonn flicked his ears in the cold but gentle breeze. "Yes, sir."

"Do it, but put my scouts in charge today. You stay grounded and assist with healing support. Magic support if Ralator's group calls you. Dismissed."