"Sorry sweetie, but Daddy needs to visit Synklisi today," I told Catherine, trying to detach the [Clingy] catkin toddler. She'd inherited her own take on her mother's hugging tendencies, and the damn trait boosted her arm strength. I could still overpower her easily enough, but with her low endurance, I was worried I'd break something.

"No! Want to play!"

"You can play with me instead," came Cluma's voice from nowhere in particular, before she stepped out into existence behind me.

I wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing that neither me nor Catherine flinched. Our kids were all pretty bomb-proof when it came to jump-scares. They had to be, with Cluma as a mum. Ever since classing up to [Invisible Death] and becoming completely invisible to my [Soul Perception], she'd taken a sadistic glee in terrifying me at every opportunity. Well, as sadistic as anyone could be, with the Law holding her back; she'd stop if I ever asked her to.

I hadn't, of course, because I enjoyed her behaviour so much. She still needled me about the time it turned out that despite [Expert Delver] giving a twenty level reduction, it didn't actually let us take rank two classes for free. A minimum of one level was always required for a class change, forcing me to go frilly headpiece in hand to Lord Reid and beg him to hire me until I could earn a level and switch back away from [Maid].

Perhaps [Soul Sight] would pick her up, and we could take our game of hide and seek another step higher, but I still wasn't sure how safe soul skills were, even if only used for perception.

Maybe today was the day I'd find out.

"Mmmk," said Catherine, detaching from me and reattaching to her mother.

"This is going to be one of your more interesting delves," said Cluma.

"Interesting, yes, but it's not really delving. Not when I can teleport straight to the core room."

It was a simple plan. Krana and Serlv would enter the bottom floor the official way, signal me once they'd cleared the boss, then I'd teleport Erryn down and follow myself. I could teleport straight to the core chamber, since I still had my beacon there, but I couldn't transport the dragons, and they insisted on being present in person. Despite how my mana pool had grown over the years, they were still too much for me.

"If you aren't delving, why are you wearing your delver gear?" called up Charles from the bottom of the stairs. He was the eldest of our children and a seriously annoying [Pedant].

"Because it looks cool," I answered, simply grateful for the fact we had children, however annoying they could be. Three of them, the middle one a girl called Chloe, who was out the back tinkering with her jet racer. It had taken a lot of time and effort, but the hint we'd needed had come from Maximilian of all people. Shortly before his untimely but well-deserved demise, he'd suggested that beastkin were artificial, and that something served to stabilise their DNA. With the help of Jason and the institute, we'd isolated the virus that served as that something, and applied it to me.

That had thrown the System through a loop. It took a full three days of 'working' messages before it simply gave up. My status still called me human. Alas, [Test Subject] had only fired once, and, even worse, rather than evolve [Xenophilia], I'd lost it. I supposed it made sense; I only had eyes for Cluma, and given what I'd done to myself, she no longer counted as exotic. In any case, it made no difference what a couple of words on my status said, only that we'd been blessed with three healthy cat-sìth children.

All of whom had names beginning with C. Apparently it wasn't so much a tribe or extended family thing as something Camus's parents had started, and then Clana simply found it amusing how similar her name was and so named Cluma to match. I should have guessed, given Clana's sense of humour. We'd joined in a little, but Chloe was the only one who completely followed the rules.

On their side, they'd named Cluma's little sister Carla. She was Cluma's opposite; quiet, sedate, and a bit of an introvert. That hadn't stopped her taking up my mantle of inventive cooking, though. My attempts at mana-filled meals had been innovative, albeit only edible to Cluma and our kids, but Carla had been working enchantments and affinities into things. Durability enchanted jelly that bounced back, ice affinity ice-cream that didn't melt even in direct sunlight, death and fire affinity hot sauces for... extreme masochists? Presumably there was a healthy market for hot sauces that were made of literal fire and pain, else she wouldn't make so many, but damned if I knew who they were.

"Armour is supposed to be protective, not look cool," Charles complained, which brought up amusing memories of Adele calling me cute, and the similar complaint I'd made in response.

"No reason it can't do both," I answered. It did, too; the bodysuit of interlinked dragon scales was better than the leather of any monster, and it had been expertly crafted to not hamper my mobility in any way. Throw in a sprinkling of adamantite and hihi'irokane, with Grover's rank five enchanting skills on top, and I had a winner.

It was also well over two decades old. Time during which I'd soloed the Obsidian Spires and reached as far as floor eighty of the great dungeon. If that wasn't a resounding endorsement of its durability, I didn't know what was.

"Be safe," said Cluma, giving me a quick hug goodbye.

"Mummy! You're squishing me!" complained Catherine, who was sandwiched between us. It was her own fault, though; she could have let go at any point.

"I'll do my best. Bye-bye," I replied, turning around and walking into my bedroom.

For most people, that sort of conversation would take place by the front door. I'd never been most people. Besides, walking out the front door just to teleport would be silly.

Precisely zero seconds later, I was in the Synklisi teleport room, courtesy of [Fabric Shift]. The pair of dragons were waiting by the dungeon wall, clearly visible to [Mana Perspicacity] despite the background glare of the dungeon. And with them, a lady of the inconvenient age that would consider 'middle-aged' to be a terrible insult while clearly being too old to be considered a 'young woman'.

The fact that I was older than her and still considered myself young was neither here nor there, of course.

There was only one human in the group, though; there was no sign of Cara, the [Itinerant Scholar], who had taken to wandering the world together with Erryn. Despite the change of circumstance since I'd made the suggestion—with the three released from their imprisonment and hence five of the six back together, each chained by the Law—she'd taken up my suggestion of becoming a travelling teacher.

Russell took up delving, ending up with a rather concerning [Gunner] class, especially since his new guns were fuelled by mana instead of gunpowder. He'd given Grover a description of how Earth weapons worked—despite never quite being able to articulate what they were used for since Earth had no dungeons—and the next minute, Grover had built half a dozen of the things and was test-firing them out in their fields.

The other three kept up with their research, directing their attention to mana instead of power sources. They still had no idea how darkness crystals worked, but were building increasingly complex bits of machinery in an attempt to find out. Even Harry was still chipping in out of interest, despite his advanced age.

As I stepped into the city, I pondered how much it had changed since I'd first visited. The glass windows had been first, the bicycles on the streets later on. The casual use of enchanted mythril. A couple of blimps in the sky. The secondary portal network, built for personal travel now that we'd learnt to stabilise the things so that they never needed recharging.

That had, ironically, happened the year after the blimp transportation network had been set up. Not the best timing ever, but fortunately a year hadn't been long enough to expand the blimp network too far, and people still kept around the blimps that had already been built for the spectacular views. They'd been converted from a transportation network to this world's equivalent of a cruise industry.

The dungeon was still the same, though. No interesting changes had happened to dungeons in a long time. Although that may be something else that changed today; once I got closer, I was pleased to confirm with [Soul Perception] that Erryn was, as far as I could tell, still completely healthy. And also completely human.

"You are late," complained Serlv.

"Sorry. It took a while to detach Catherine."

Krana looked at me dubiously. "Your excuse for tardiness is a child not yet of age?"

"You should have brought her," said Erryn. "It's been a while since I've seen your little ones."

"Not so little anymore; Chloe is entering that big race next week. Hasn't stopped tweaking her racer all season. Didn't even say goodbye to me today."

I gave a faux sniff, wiping away a non-existent tear.

Serlv blew out a cloud of ice in a sort of draconic snort. "Come. You can wax poetic about your family later. For now, let us complete this task."

She turned and plodded off, Krana on her tail. The guard at the gate let them through without even commenting on their lack of armour or equipment, which I felt was speciesist. He'd never let me in naked.

"You sure you want to do this?" I asked Erryn, the moment they'd teleported away.

"Again? You must have asked that a million times by now."

"Four. I counted."

"Still three too many," sighed Erryn. "Yes, I am sure."

"It's just that you're so... human."

"So were you, once," she chided.

"I still am! The System says it, so it must be true."

"Serlvrenalliacta said that the pace of events doubled again last week. You say my soul has healed. This world needs its earth mother."

"The pace of events doesn't matter if the System collapses their portals before they even form. The last time we asked it, it told us it could cope with a thousand times the rate before it would need an alternate strategy."

"Then it's best we find that alternate strategy before we need it."

I'd always voted against telling Erryn of her origins, but in our de facto ruling triumvirate, Krana and Serlv tended to vote together, and in this case they'd been against me. She'd always known something was up, given her ridiculous trait and affinities, and when we'd finally told her the truth on her twentieth birthday, she'd barely seemed shocked at all. It was more like we were telling her something she'd always known, but had put out of mind momentarily.

Jason, on the other hand, had needed to go and have a lie down. The knowledge that he'd spent sixteen years raising the earth mother easily broke through the anti-reverential effect she'd built into the Law.

And now, another decade later, she was taking up her mantle once more. Once again, I'd been outvoted, and this time Erryn herself had joined in my opposition. But if she was willing... I had to admit, the continued portal attempts were concerning. I'd never known for certain what my judgement had done to Earth, with even the System being unable to provide an answer. I'd come to terms with my own mind since, though, and I could say with little doubt that whatever the Law had pulled from my head that day, it wouldn't have spread itself to Earth. The new portal attempts weren't really evidence in either direction. We weren't even sure they were from Earth; a worse case would be if Maximilian had reincarnated somewhere else and was now doing his best to invade.

And so, a week ago, we'd taken Erryn to the ark and granted her [Unbound Soul]. She'd been rather thoughtful ever since, but not angry or depressed. That was promising, but today she'd be regaining her memory. Who knew what might happen?

We stood around in a nervous silence until Serlv signalled me. Or at least, I was nervous. Erryn seemed fine, a fact of which I was a little jealous.

"Time to go," I said, so she dumped her mana pool to allow me to teleport her. A few seconds later, I joined them in the boss chamber, needing to use [Redistribute] since [Fabric Shift] couldn't penetrate a dungeon.

I was just in time to see Erryn staggering, Serlv catching her before she fell.

"Hard... to... breathe..." she gasped.

"Take a moment to get used to the density of mana here," said Krana.

She wasn't lower in level than the first time I'd visited this floor, but her mana pool was smaller. She may have inherited her universal affinity attunement from her time as a dungeon core, but her pool was completely human, and she hadn't been taking skills to expand it.

"I... I'm okay... It's just a bit... much..."

"You're not okay!" I snapped back, scanning her with [Mana Perspicacity]. Her mana veins were already in a state that reminded me of Cluma the first time I'd tried [Item Box] on her, but, unlike Cluma, it wasn't a one-off hit. The mana wasn't getting less dense, and she continued to burn. "You're burning up. We need to get you out of here!"

"Peter, your control over mana is sufficient to reduce the density around her to safe levels. Do so," ordered Serlv.

Right. That was an option, too. I activated [Mana Authority] and built a bubble of reduced density around Erryn. I couldn't completely hold back the crushing density, but I could reduce it enough that her breathing eased. She healed herself and stood up straight.

"Sorry," she said.

"You have nothing to apologise for," pointed out Krana. "Peter, if you would?"

"Would what?"

"Open the door to the core room, as you did last time."

"Huh? I didn't do anything special, just said why we were here," I pointed out, before addressing the wall where I remembered the door being. "We are here to return Erryn's memory."

Nothing happened.

"Oh, joy. This is going to be the ark all over again, isn't it?" I muttered. Was it my imagination, or did the wall look a little smug?

"Open," said Erryn confidently, walking towards the exact position of the door despite it barely being visible to my [Mana Perspicacity].

It opened.

"Okay, that was cool," I said, looking over at Erryn.

And seeing her eyes.

"Erryn?" I asked, but she ignored me. Or, more likely, didn't hear me. Her face was as blank as someone in the middle of a Law-powered memory wipe, and she was walking forward like a zombie.

"Is this supposed to happen?" I asked the dragons, moving my bubble of reduced mana to keep her in the middle.

The only answer I got was a pair of draconic shrugs, so we followed Erryn, walking silently through the graveyard, but instead of walking around the central monument, she stopped in front of it.

"That was the second time..." she muttered under her breath. "I can only pray there will not be a third..."

She turned towards Serlv. "My memories," she asked, hand outstretched.

"We have not yet reached the core room," she pointed out.

Erryn shook her head, a tear running down one cheek. "No, but we have reached my heart. I remember... enough."

Serlv handed the core over without additional complaint, and Erryn turned and rammed it into the monument, right above the text.

Things happened.

[Mana Perspicacity] was good, but it wasn't that good. I hadn't even maxed out its level, with the final three proving annoyingly stubborn. Had I had it at rank five, along with an equivalent soul perception skill, I might have been able at least to see what it was that I didn't understand. As it was, 'things happened' was the best I could do.

And then Erryn turned back to us, eyes red and with a tear still on her cheek, but smiling. Her outfit had changed—the practical trousers and shirt replaced by decorated robes, bright green and hemmed with brown—but her face was identical. [Eye of Judgement] showed a class change to [Earth Mother], her previous rank three class of [Itinerant Healer] relegated to her list of completed classes. Aside from that, it showed little difference.

"You are... still human?" I asked carefully.

"What did you expect?" she asked in turn, almost playfully. She glanced over at an orichalcum plaque—left behind by me long ago but never consumed by the dungeon—then back. "And when this body ages and dies, I shall be beastkin, harpy, centaur, mer, fairy, demon, dwarf, elf, then dragon. And even then, I would not dare claim to have learnt enough to fulfil the role I chose to burden myself with."

She turned away from us, walking towards the core room.

"You thought me almost a goddess," she continued as she walked. "You thought that with me here, everything would be fine. The world protected. My children safe. Even I believed it, for a time. We were mistaken. I had the advantage that my perception spanned the world. I had the weight of age behind me, and the ability of a dungeon to create or to kill. I had power, but the person beyond that power? I was just a lonely, naïve little girl."

"Hah. Better than me," I snorted, somewhat amused by the idea of a lonely dungeon. "At least you had conviction. I could barely do anything, for fear of making the wrong choice."

"The choice to do nothing is still a choice," she pointed out.

"Do not belittle yourself," chimed in Serlv. "You are not a goddess; you are our mother. You offered us nurturing and protection, as a mother should. You offered us love, and that is the very definition of a good mother."

"Should a mother wrap her children in chains?" she asked.

Ah. That question again. Serlv and Krana had been all for it, back when I'd first released them, and I'd never been able to draw them on the subject since. How had the decades altered their perceptions?

"It's not important," said Krana, and I tripped over my feet and face-planted into very solid dungeon rock.

"Not important?!" I complained, once [Rapid Regeneration] had fixed up my face and I once again owned a full set of teeth. How dare he call something that I had agonised over for so long unimportant?

Erryn apparently saw the funny side, because she just laughed.

"I fail to see why my response surprises you both," grumbled Krana.

"Because Peter spent many of his early years agonising over the questions posed by those chains," answered Erryn from in front of the dungeon core, which was an interesting trick, because she was also still giggling to herself a few steps in front of me.

"What?" asked Serlv, staring at the second Erryn, who was wrapped in robes of identical style, except coloured in sky-blue, hemmed with white.

... The second Erryn didn't respond to [Eye of Judgement], and [Mana Perspicacity] displayed a sight I hadn't seen in a long time, the mix of soul and light affinities forming the illusion being unique to only one thing I'd seen in the past.

"You are the Law?" I asked it, not quite as afraid as I had been the last time. This time, I had backup with me.

The illusionary Erryn shook her head, and gave a small, sad smile. "I am the price that was paid. I am that which was lost in sacrifice. I am the verdict at the end of the judgement."

I stared, wondering how the hell to respond to that. Or, more importantly, what that even meant.

"Too complex for you?" asked the illusionary Erryn, the small smile growing into the sort of grin Clana would wear when about to make an obscene joke. "In that case, it would not be completely wrong to call myself the daughter of you and Erryn."

"Oh my. Cluma will be so disappointed at your infidelity," giggled the real Erryn, while my mouth hung open.

... Except, they were both real, weren't they? The price that was paid? Those soul slivers, awoken once more and dancing around the core... So that was how soul magic could be used safely. Not to mention why Erryn—upon regaining her memory—felt able to keep her human body.

Talk about chance and happenstance. So much for needing an alternate strategy; we'd had one all along. I'd pity any Earthling that tried to invade us on her watch.

Now it was my turn to laugh. To laugh and laugh and laugh.