World Tree
The next day, I opened my eyes to the presence of Elenoir approaching my door.
"Did you sleep well last night, my dear?"
"Yeah, slept fine."
I gave a half-hearted reply to Elenoir, who greeted me with a bright smile. Truth be told, I hadn't slept a wink. That distinctive presence emanating from her kept nagging at me, and I'd pulled an all-nighter trying to figure it out. Of course, I hadn't uncovered a damn thing. For starters, my basic understanding of mana was way too shallow.
I'd picked up some foundational knowledge from learning mana manipulation from Elenoir back on Floor 7, but that was pretty much it. Put another way, everything she taught me was too abstract—tips and insights that sounded profound but didn't give me anything concrete to work with.
So last night, I dove back into the open community forums for the first time in ages. Mana manipulation and mana sensing skills were standard for any mage-class player. I figured if I dug deep enough, I'd find posts or guides that could answer my questions. Fat chance.
Hardly anyone challenging the Tower truly understood mana sensing or any of the other mana-related passive skills. Most players had picked them up but had no clue how to actually use them—not even the basic principles of mana operation. Even the high-level raid teams or rankers recognized their importance, but they didn't know much more than that.
There were a few self-proclaimed "true mages" who seemed to have some grasp on it, but their posts contradicted each other left and right, and the community treated them like total cultists. Zero credibility.
In the end, I'd learned jack shit—just lurked the forums all night.
"You sure you slept well? You look a bit tired."
Lost in thought about yesterday, I barely noticed Elenoir poking her head in close.
"Told you, I did. Just overdid it yesterday, that's all."
I pulled out the pendant she'd given me and showed it to her.
"Used this."
The ultimate reward from the Floor 7 quest: it granted limited mana reinforcement to the user. The effect was insanely potent, but so were the side effects. It put a massive strain on the body. If I looked beat, it was entirely this pendant's fault. Staying up all night was nothing to me.
"Ah, now I see. The embedded mana is depleted, so you must've used it pretty recently."
Elenoir sized up the pendant with just a glance, pinpointing the exact amount of mana left. Out of everyone around me, she knew mana best. Did she know what this presence I was sensing actually was?
*
After a quick breakfast with Elenoir, I cut straight to the chase with the question on my mind.
"Presence?"
I didn't bring up anything about NPCs or whatever—just said her presence felt unusually strong compared to others. It was too intense to chalk up to simple mana reserves.
"Hmm, no idea. If I had to guess, maybe your sensing ability has developed in a biased way?"
"Biased how?"
"It's rare, but sometimes abilities evolve to hyper-specialize in detecting certain things."
She gave examples: someone who could spot distant projectiles like a hawk, or pick up on living creatures' presences from miles away. But she'd never heard of someone zeroing in on a specific individual like that. She teasingly suggested it might just be because I was familiar with her, but I shook my head.
"Then I'm stumped. Though personally, I'd love it if you were sensing something special about me..."
Her voice turned syrupy as her hand slithered toward my thigh.
Here we go again.
I swatted her hand away before it got too bold and kept thinking. Taking her words at face value, suppose I was picking up on something unique to her. Something no other NPC had. Not a special item, not some royal dark elf bloodline trait—otherwise, I'd have felt the same from the dark elf queen on Floor 7.
Maybe it was from that night elf secret art where we shared senses? But she'd know about that. And it didn't explain why her presence had vanished so suddenly back on Floor 7.
Wait... there is one thing.
Something only Elenoir had, unlike other NPCs. Her self-awareness as a top-tier elite NPC. If that's what I was sensing, it all fit—even the sudden disappearance on Floor 7.
But could you physically feel someone's sense of self? What the hell was I detecting?
The thing that made NPCs feel less like NPCs. The thing that gave them human-like egos. And the moment it vanished, so did the presence.
Right then, a very abstract concept floated into my head.
"Soul...?"
And with it, a way to confirm.
*
The three major factions at the core of the camp quests clashed constantly on Floor 8. Localized skirmishes had everyone on edge, war looming on the horizon. As a key figure—and frontline fighter—in the dark elf camp, Elenoir was swamped.
"Ahh... I wanted to talk more with you, but duty calls."
She left soon after, and I waved her off. The quest hadn't progressed yet anyway.
If what I was sensing was her soul, and that intense ego and presence stemmed from it...
"Then... who knows."
Even if I figured it out, what difference would it make? Honestly, I could just grind quests instead. But my feet wouldn't stop. Something itched at me this time; I had to know.
I ended up at a familiar spot from Floor 7: dark elf Erwen's forge.
Knock knock.
A racket erupted inside as I rapped on the closed door. It swung open, revealing a diminutive dark elf with a chest that didn't match her stature.
"Sigh, even if you're in a rush, hounding an old lady like this is too much! How long are you gonna—huh?"
Erwen, lugging armor and a sword, froze when she saw me, eyes bulging.
"What the—am I finally losing it in my old age? Hallucinating? You're that human kid I know, right?"
"Yeah, you'd know if you look at this."
"The wristguard I made... No way, why's it in such pristine shape? You stash it away for show or something?"
She sighed in disbelief at the armguard I held out. Fair enough—from her perspective, it was gear from 20 years ago, still looking brand new.
"I nagged you to take care of your weapons, but damn, you took it to heart. Didn't peg you for the type."
It wasn't babying; it really was new. No need to correct her misconception, though. She was scolding me, sure, but her eyes gleamed with delight.
"Anyway, when'd you make it back here? Heard you were busy."
"Yesterday, had some business. Planning to stick around a bit."
"Oh? You say hi to Elenoir? She'd be thrilled."
Erwen fussed over me like a grandma with a long-lost grandkid, naturally ushering me inside. The forge hadn't changed much in 20 years—which made sense for a dark elf blacksmith her age; two decades was a blip.
"All I got is tea—should've baked cookies if I knew you were coming."
"Nah, got a question. That's why I'm here."
"Hm, figured you weren't just visiting. Shoot."
Erwen was the oldest dark elf around, queen aside. Perfect person for this topic.
An abstract concept tied to souls.
"Tell me about the World Tree."
The mystical tree that cycled the elves' souls, granting them eternal life.