Descent into Stalactite City
Towering trees shot up toward the sky, spewing mana that created bizarre currents in the air. I fiddled absentmindedly with the ring on my finger. When I infused a bit of mana into it, my score popped up.
50 Points
Damn it. That just soured my mood. I snapped irritably at the turtle. It bulldozed through the trees blocking our path, carving out a road. I pulled out the map to check my position. A dot marking me hovered in an area just a short distance from the tower. Still a long way to go. I sighed and took a sip of tea. Its aroma soothed my insides. It was the map Professor On had tossed my way. Surprisingly detailed, it covered every section of the university grounds. He'd said it was the map he'd received when he became a professor—one not given to students. When he said he didn't need it anymore and threw it to me, I nearly dropped to my knees right there in gratitude.
Come to think of it, it'd already been a week since I enrolled. I'd been pretty busy that whole time. Memories of my first days at the tower flooded back. Cleaning it up, spotting something weird and collapsing, planning lectures in the professor's stead, then spending all my time repairing and stabilizing the place. Wait, had I come to the university to work? I hadn't even thought about training. Work kept me so slammed that whenever I had a spare moment, I'd crash hard. Then I'd wake up and dive right back in. A full day had passed since I'd escaped that routine and left the tower. Sitting idle inside the turtle, doing nothing but staring into space—this guilty pleasure was my reward for all the hardship.
How much farther did I have to go? I checked the map again. My destination was the city closest to Professor On's tower: Stalactite City. Below it was a label: Arcana General Merchant Association. Similar cities dotted the map—twelve in total. One label caught my eye: Beast Corporation. That reminded me of Luo from the entrance ceremony. He'd said he worked for Beast Corporation. So these names probably indicated the organizations ruling each city. Arcana General Merchant Association. The area marked by Stalactite City was the largest of them all—nearly twice the size of the smallest.
The lecture plan safely tucked in my space pouch came to mind, stamped with the professor's mana seal and radiating dense power. I had to submit it somewhere. As the biggest city, there had to be a place here. But it was too damn far. I sighed. Way too far. When I left the tower, I hadn't given it much thought, but this map's scale was off. With the whole university crammed onto it, that made sense. I'd been traveling a full day and hadn't even covered half the distance. And that day had driven home just how dangerous the university was. It was pure wilderness. Mana beasts infested every corner.
Ah, here came another one. A massive snake shot from the trees and sank its fangs into the turtle's neck. It coiled around tight—easily ten meters long. The turtle yanked its neck into its shell, and the snake tumbled to the ground. It tried to flee, but the turtle's foot came crashing down. The earth shook as its body was pulverized. The turtle poked its head out to inspect, then scooped up the flattened remains and swallowed them whole. Not the strongest beast, but every one counted. My materials were running low, so even these were precious.
Anyway, mana beasts were everywhere. This low-altitude zone only had weak ones like this, but higher up where mana pooled thick, far stronger ones lurked. Professor On's mountain was like that—monsters that could gulp a turtle in one bite hid everywhere. Without his mana seal, I never would've left that mountain; I'd have fled back to the tower. That's why what I thought would be quick was dragging on. Sticking to beast-free zones slowed me more than expected. I'd marked their territories on a scroll beside the map. The map only covered key areas, lacking these details. Someday it'd help.
We pressed on. Unexpected hazards popped up, paths got blocked, and delays piled up bit by bit. Two full days later, we finally reached the city zone.
"This is it." I scanned the map and surroundings. The red dot marking me blinked right on the city label. But nothing was here—just a peak a bit shorter than the others. As I looked around, I sensed faint mana. Someone was approaching. I quickly had the turtle flatten itself and camouflage. It retracted its limbs, turning into a boulder. I suppressed my mana and watched.
A ragged group of mages floated a huge mana beast carcass, eyes alert.
"Mana traces were here, right?" one asked—a woman with a stern face.
"Pfft, probably just a mage heading to the city. What's special about it?" a lighthearted man replied.
A light scanning spell swept by. The woman paused, then they headed for the low peak—and sank into the ground. A hidden path? It blended perfectly with the terrain, invisible unless you knew. I waited after they vanished. No movement. Cautiously, I followed on the turtle. A deep cave led underground, wind whistling from within. I shrank the turtle, hung it on my chest, and entered.
Was the city below? Magical lanterns lit the walls, guiding the way down. Deeper in, a massive mana flow hit me. There it was: a colossal city. It reminded me of the university city above—skyscrapers, but inverted, hanging from the ceiling like stalactites. No ground below—just thick fog shrouding a deep abyss. So that's why Stalactite City. I marveled. Only an all-mage populace could build like this.
I infused mana into my eyes for a closer look. Countless buildings dangled from the ceiling like stalactites, linked by swaying bridges. Streets bustled between them, with street stalls trading and lanterns piercing the dark. Mages zipped through ceiling holes. That's how I'd entered. I lifted off the ground. The ambient mana linked to the city; a touch let me float easily. Drunk on its intensity, I drifted toward it slowly.
Close up, a barrier blocked me—the city's ward. How to pass? Scanning, I spotted what looked like a checkpoint in the lower levels. Other mages headed there. I joined the line. Up ahead: that mage group, lounging on their beast carcass, chatting idly. They bantered with guards and entered. Others followed quickly. I blended in naturally. Guards barely glanced—just yawned through the motions. Yet even they outpowered me. Probably Hongryeong's level. I swallowed hard. These were mere guards? The university truly was the cradle of mages.
Most headed to the dim lower levels. Upper ones—bathed in light like the surface—saw few. I lacked the score or strength for that. First, scout the lowers and gather intel. I followed to what seemed a dock for city traffic. Mages scattered every which way.
Where to? Best bet: an info guild. But I had no points. Needed a cheap way to learn about the university and city. I knew just the trick—honed wandering the continent. For common info, hit spots with loose lips. Taverns, usually. Booze loosens tongues. This upside-down city had 'em. Scanning: crowds crossed bridges. Who'd hit a tavern? That mage group. They'd revealed the path easily; they'd never notice a tail.
They'd sold the carcass and strolled chattering. I shadowed discreetly, keeping them in sight. The lowers teemed with life—mostly Seedling or higher. Bridges hosted vendor mages hawking wares. I pretended to browse while following. They ducked into a building:
The menu outside: ham and beer set for 5 points. Damn—tenth of my fortune. But for intel, worth it. Inside: raucous noise, tables packed. I tailed them, snagged a nearby seat, ordered ham and beer. Ham, huh? First in ages. No real food at the tower. Anticipation built.
They loosened up beside me.
"Great work today, boss!"
"We'll settle up at the inn later."
"Heh, payout means I can finally register for classes."
Class registration—jackpot. I doodled doll designs on my scroll, ears perked.
"Hmph, you'll need double to snag a spot."
The boss lady snorted.
"Still, 8,000 points should grab one decent class, right?"
8,000 points. I nearly choked. Way beyond my scale—ten times what I'd imagined. My plans crumbled; I bit my lip. Submitting the plan was one thing, but I needed Heisen's class too. 8,000? Newbies were screwed. Might take years of grinding, like they said.
"How'd you save that much?"
"Two years, no spending."
The light guy scratched his head, gulping his beer. Mine arrived. The aroma and mana hit like a revelation. Cheapest menu, sounded mundane—wrong. I lifted the glass. Golden brew sloshed, cool mana rising. Bitter scent teased my nose. First sip: smooth down the throat, refreshing my weary gut. Beer this good? Infused mana amplified start and finish, soaking me gently. I shivered.
Ham next: five thick slices. One bite—beast meat? Juices burst with mana, amplifying savoriness. Salty ham met beer's bitterness in perfect harmony. Solo stars, together sublime. Another sip, chew: oily texture cut the crispness, tongue dancing. Smile crept up; intel forgotten in bliss. Deep breath, savoring. Ham and beer—for 5 points? Past meals were trash now. No wonder the crowd. Even mages who skipped food would get hooked.
Their chatter—another snack. Useful bits: building layouts, why underground. I pieced micro-details into knowledge gaps. Buildings were mega-shops, low tiers bottom, high up top. This tavern felt base-level—yet divine. What waited above? Curiosity piqued. Underground build: surface too pricey. Closer to surface, exponentially costlier—even here.
"Ham and beer, another round!" Temptation won. Fresh set arrived. Damn, not the plan. Needed points for classes. But too good. Devoured. They slurred nonsense now—but gold to an info virgin like me. Tavern din, stray mage crumbs: I sorted, categorized.
"Same again."
Couldn't resist. Just once more, then stop. That's how I burned half my fortune before escaping the tavern.