Quill eased himself into a meditative trance. He lowered himself to the cavern floor, his legs crossed and arms still.

  He pulled on air as he pulled the mana from the environment into his Core, keeping his inhale relaxed and steady before he then exhaled. The Blue Gem cycle was a great technique to regenerate the lost mana in his Core.

  It was a short process, given that he hadn't really used much of his mana in the encounter with the Greencats earlier. It was all thanks to Narrah, giving him the opportunity instead of wasting a Quickscript on the Greencat he wrestled with.

  Quill had thought of using Liquid Stone to end the fight early, but that spell, as it was currently, already took a huge portion of mana with it. Even with his now improved Bronze Magic Attribute, it was still expected that it would've taken twice as much mana, and the base spell was already unoptimized as it was with its Scripts.

  Quill didn't have much time since the spell‘s creation to reiterate on the Scripts and optimize the mana usage. Because of that, it wasn't warranted aside from desperate maneuvers.

  Quill sighed with relief, the darkness of his space now filled with a refilled Core topped to the brim with mana. He opened his eyes, and around him, Narrah and the rest were harvesting the Cores of the Greencats.

  It was overkill to have your cake and eat it as well, but the rules didn't dictate that they couldn't take advantage of this Dungeon to grab Cores for themselves. Even if they weren't allowed to take them with them, surely the academy would still award them an extra reward just for harvesting their favorite products.

  “You doing good on your end, Narrah?” Gerald was knee-deep in one of the Greencats bodies, hands red and bloody in fishing out the Greencat’s Core.

  “I’m just about… done!” Narrah pulled another Core with a squelching sound.

  The Bronze Cores of the Greencats were a step up in quality compared to the Iron Cores that Quill had been eating up before the academy. It was hard to distinguish the Tiers of Cores by their looks alone without Bronze Senses, but the general difference was the density and weight of the marbles. Higher Cores were heavier compared to lesser Cores.

  Along with that, the higher the Cores you absorb, the faster you advance your own Attributes and Tiers. Quill stared at the Cores Rognor had been holding in his hand. If he took all of these Cores and selfishly absorbed them all himself, he would break through straight to Bronze right here.

  He couldn't say he wasn't tempted for a split second.

  “Alright.” Quill pushed off the cavern grass before he gathered the group around him. “Give me the Cores. I’ll keep them in my Holder. You know what that is, right?”

  “Sure, but…” Rognor trailed off, staring at the bloody mess of glowing marbles on his hands. It was disgusting, so Quill grabbed them with a sigh before he dipped them in the running water running through the center of the cave. It reminded him of doing laundry in the past, strangely enough.

  Quill then pulled his Holder and dropped all the Bronze Cores into the pouch. He couldn't allow anyone else in the dungeon to find their Cores and give them a chance to steal them, especially when Dungeons were notorious for misdemeanors.

  Given that the test now was a breeding ground for competition, he wouldn't even put it past some of the other mage groups to fight over the Ratlizard eggs. A few groups had branched off into different paths, but there was a high chance of meeting one here more than none.

  Quill didn't want to be put in a position again where he had no choice but to fight. The last time that happened, he ended up killing five non-mages and got a bounty on his head.

  And more than anything, he didn't really want to kill anymore if the situation didn't call for it.

  As he continued to lead the group deeper into the Dungeon, pushing past the first Stomach before winding through a series of tight hallways and long corridors, the thought only caught up with him then.

  How could he say that he didn't enjoy killing?

  Back when he was the Night Lich, he killed thousands and raided villages just to gather resources and steal books. It was the name of the game: he had to do so to survive. But he couldn't really say he enjoyed the act of killing, but it was a necessity.

  He didn't particularly enjoy it, but he would always be happy counting the bodies he piled to add to his undead army. To him, it was like eating bland magic pills. The enjoyment came not from the taste itself, but from what it meant for him from a purely objective standpoint.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  But something changed. He was actively trying to avoid conflict, one way or another. He could steal these Cores for himself, but it would obviously cause problems with the group. He could’ve killed Pheter for his mockery, but he didn't.

  Something about him had changed, and he’d already noticed the moment he woke up as Fenith. Maybe it was because of the fact that he couldn't do so as he pleased, given that his necromancy was all but gone now, but he was trying to adjust to the world instead of actively fighting back against it.

  Quill and the group carved through another passage, the conversation behind him still lost to his own thoughts.

  One thing he noticed was how severely lacking he was in living a normal person’s life. He made mistakes that he shouldn't have when he was a centuries-old lich, or maybe it was because of exactly that.

  He’d been careful now of using his Black Aspect since it would draw attention to his Fracture Core. The only people who knew of his unique Mystery were Rhena, Haref, and Yereth. The City Watch guards might not be able to distinguish between his two magics, but even then, it was foolish for him to use Black Application on that one guard before.

  And it was all because of his pride. He didn't feel anything back when he was an undead himself, but looking back on it, he always felt a pang of anger every time anyone belittled him. That feeling caused him to make mistakes, and it eventually caused problems for him.

  “Another Stomach.” Gerald squeezed Quill’s shoulder, shaking him from his thoughts.

  Quill turned from Gerald to the view in front of them.

  The dark tunnel led them into another chamber. It opened into a rough interior, with stalagmites hanging from the ceiling, crags and crevices on the walls, and rocky terrain on the ground. Pieces of the brown earth here were fractured and uneven, breaking and churning as if the earth itself was rocking like waves on the ocean.

  That was when Quill noticed the reptiles dashing out from view the moment he brought his Mana Light up in the air. There were hundreds of them, small lizards with fur like rats and a tail that was more fleshy than scaly. Ratlizards.

  On the high walls was one nest made of nothing but rocks, shaped like clay to form spheres that housed Ratlizards. Breaking open these nests would give them what they came here for, the Ratlizard eggs, but they were so high up that they needed a way to get to them. But they were mages, after all.

  “Narrah, can you do it?” Quill turned to the wood elf, already slinging her bow to her hands and knocking an arrow.

  “Of course.” She said. “They're a bit far, but a still target is easy.”

  “Don't break the eggs.” Quill reminded her, motioning to Gerald to stand right under the nest in preparation to catch the eggs.

  “Now you're just underestimating me.”

  Her arrow zipped through the air, landing with a on one of the Ratlizard nests before deflecting entirely from the shell. Narrah pressed her lips before she tried again, but like before, her arrow only grazed the shell before bouncing off and landing on Gerald's head with a

  Gerald let out a, “Hey, watch the hair!” Before Narrah tried a third time, this time imbuing her arrow with a green aura that oozed with her Green Aspect. It wasn’t a good idea to imbue magic in her arrows, but Quill trusted her accuracy.

  If it were about pure magic strength, Quill would've done this part himself. But they couldn't afford to break the nest entirely and take the eggs along with it. What they needed was precision, and Narrah was the most fit out of everyone here to try. Quill had seen her marksmanship beforehand.

  The third arrow zipped. Where the first two arrows only bounced off, the third–imbued with Green Aspect–pierced with speed and accuracy. The moment the shell broke apart, and hundreds of Ratlizards scurried out of their homes, earth and eggs fell from the sky.

  “Now!” Quill said.

  “You don't have to tell me twice.” Gerald dodged the rubble and caught the eggs in his hands. With a grin, he then showed off a smug look before he juggled the three eggs, only to drop one of the eggs to the ground.

  Quill immediately tore the eggs from Gerald, fearing the stupidity in him to cause more trouble than he was worth.

  Two Ratlizard eggs, small as a pebble. It was strange to feel and see prickly fur all over the shell, but it was a Ratlizard's egg, true enough. Narrah pressed on one of them with a sheepish grin.

  With this, they could return and–

  “What a surprise!” A voice boomed on the other side of the cavern. It was another group who had come across them, though Quill had no idea who these people were.

  “It’s the gray elf, himself in the flesh.” The one in front wore a proud look, leading a band of smiling idiots behind him. He was a bald and short man, but the nobility of his clothes was apparent enough. Quill had to wonder where his smugness came from. It surely wasn't because of his face.

  “What do you want?” Quill's voice echoed through the chambers, though it came out louder than it needed to be.

  “What do I want?” The bald man turned to his companions, and they all then snickered a laugh. There seemed to be something funny here that Quill wasn't getting at. “My group’s tired enough as it is, and it would be if you hand over those eggs to us. Do you not know me? I’m the son of Yohen Hayberth, fucker.”

  Quill clenched his fist. He had nothing more than he wanted other than to throw a White Ball to this stupid pig’s face, but he shoved his anger down. He wasn't about to attack a seeming noble… aside from Elarah.

  “You do realize we have a representative of the Solheathe family with us?” Quill's tone was sour, but he gestured to Gerald right beside him. Gerald, in turn, puffed his chest up as if he were making himself larger than he really was.

  “That's the thing, isn't it?” The bald man cackled before he unsheathed the sword on his hip. The companions behind him drew weapons and Scripts. “He’s just a representative. He isn't even a fucking elf. You think we give a fuck?”

  “He sure does love saying ‘fuck’ a lot.” Gerald said, readying a Script. Quill did the same.

  Sorry for the sudden change, but I'm going to be posting at 7 PM EST instead of 4 PM EST to better align with my class schedule. Thank you for understanding, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

  Velaria: Reborn as a King (A Kingdom-Building Isekai Novel)

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