Now that there weren’t waves of flesh golems appearing at regular intervals, leaving the room was simple. Alari led them to the door she’d discovered a while ago. 

“Why are you here, Dasai?” Sen asked. He was certain he’d seen Dasai leave with his group. He wasn’t sure how the boy had ended up in the underground area with them as well.

Dasai rubbed the back of his head. “I uh—sneaking around is kind of my specialty. Lots of people don’t think I actually do anything, but…I do. I just do it subtly. I just wanted to make sure Alari was all right. Didn’t plan to follow you until that big golem showed up.” 

It was like a mystery that’d gone unsolved until now. “So when it looks like you’re standing around, you’re actually doing stuff?” he asked. 

Dasai’s eyes lit up. “Sometimes. I shouldn’t have said anything. Alari, remind me not to talk so much.”

To Sen’s surprise, Alari laughed. “You rarely do. If I harp on you about that, you’ll be mute for good,” she said. 

Dasai nodded. “That might not be so bad. Yeah, I’m hard to detect if you don’t know to look for me. And also if you do know to look for me. Remember how Tonka swiped your sphere so fast? Like he appeared out of nowhere? That was all me. Made him imperceptible.”

“Imperceptible? Not invisible?” Sen asked.

Dasai grinned. “Yeah. Got so used to being a fly on the wall that I turned it into a strength.”

“He’s a genius,” Alari declared. 

Dasai cleared his throat. “Well, technically they call me the—”

“A genius,” Alari asserted. 

Dasai sighed. 

Alari looked a lot more confident with Flamesaber in its hilt again. Like she’d had a long night’s rest. But it was likely she could draw upon its power to refresh herself. Malleore was capable of something similar. Sen felt its own comforting presence on his neck as well and grazed it with a finger. He hadn’t expected to create a new spell on the fly with Alari. He’d taken a chance that she’d work with him, but if she hadn’t, he’d have been forced to reveal more of his power than he wanted. Having to fight without any of his hybrid stats had been enough of a pain. He hadn’t even thought about them during their mental exchange. 

He looked up. Alari led them to a blue door with a hole in it and a crevice for the sphere. He placed the mana core inside it and then quickly retrieved it before the door slid open and took the core with it. Light spilled into the room, and the three of them stepped out. 

Alari covered her face with her hands. She’d been in near total darkness for days. That light had to be rough on her. Even Dasai squinted and turned his face away while his eyes adjusted. Sen looked around. It looked as if they were in some kind of storage area beneath the castle. Crates, barrels, and shelves were packed full of supplies. A quick scan revealed nothing especially valuable. A set of wooden stairs led upwards, probably back to the first floor of the castle. “We need to get moving. The others are still in danger,” he said. 

Alari and Dasai nodded. They came out not too far from where Sen had lost the others. He was tempted to head back toward the main stairwell, but he didn’t want to risk running into the more powerful flesh golem until they’d recovered a bit. His powers were returning, but he still wasn’t in peak condition. When he fought that thing, he wanted to obliterate it. But he knew it was sometimes a luxury to choose your battles. He’d handle it if it came to that. 

He wasn’t able to find any traces of Ano and the others, but they found a way up. A small staircase hidden behind a door. Alari had been smashing most of the doors they passed just because she was pissed about her experience over the last few days. This time at least, it panned out. It was locked, like all the others, so Sen highly doubted that Ano and the others had taken this route. They hurried, and when they arrived at the second floor, their approach became more careful. The flesh golem had come from this floor, and there was a chance it would return. But the second floor ended up being as devoid as the first. They found another side stairwell, and before they knew it, they’d reached the third floor. 

“So all we know is that the students were above the first floor? We're gonna have to check every floor for them?” Alari asked. She swung her sword in front of her as she ran, apparently eager to hit something.

“If that’s what it takes,” Sen said, following her. They needed to find the others. Soon. Neither his nor Tutor’s senses had detected anything, and though the dampening effect from the first floor was gone, this castle was the fortress of a god. Enemy forces would have limitations imposed upon them within its walls. If he’d developed his powers further, it wouldn’t be a problem. But Harpis had existed well after he did. It was likely that reaching the level of god in those days required anywhere from level four to five hundred. In terms of raw power, Sen wasn’t there yet. 

Even with his recent level up, he still had a long way to go. He could still vividly recall his progress. 

[Status Update]

[Level Up]

[Mana Aggression +2]

[Mana Encapsulation +4]

[Mana Protection +2]

Name: Sen Locke

Class: God of Magic

Level: 5

Strength/Mana Aggression: 114

Speed/Mana Encapsulation: 123

Magic: 139

Constitution/Mana Protection: 108

Mana Points: 999,999,999+

[You have received ten stat points.]

[You have received a Spell Tomb Location.]

With his new stat points, his magic stat was 149. He was already almost halfway to doubling the magic power he’d had a thousand years ago. That brought a smile to his face. He’d have to worry about the spell tomb later; he obviously couldn’t abandon his current mission. 

In the hall ahead, someone choked. The three of them halted. He hadn’t noticed it before, but he could see legs sticking out of a decorative alcove in the hallway. The bottoms of white robes stuck out and fell all the way down to white shoes. But they weren’t all white. The robes were clearly drenched in blood. 

Sen ran ahead of the others. This could be one of the other students or a…he stopped when he saw a familiar face he never expected to here.

“Orttha?” he asked. The head librarian of Brightsail Academy was in bad shape. Blood littered his beard. There were wounds all over his body, and a quick sweep of his magic senses told him most of the man’s insides were crushed. He leaned his head against the wall with closed eyes. Total Restoration should work, but Sen needed to prepare it more than usual. The wounds were deep; a quick casting wouldn’t heal him as wholly. In Orttha’s condition, effectiveness mattered more than quickness. “What are you doing here?” 

Sen reached forward to shake the librarian awake, and Orttha’s hand shot up and caught his own. Sen blinked. Orttha’s hand had moved under the effects of Mana Encapsulation. The old man’s eyes crept open. “It’s you.”

“Where did you learn that?” Sen asked.

Orttha raised a brow. “You can recognize hybrid stats?” he asked.

Alari and Dasai caught up with them. Sen looked over his shoulder. “Keep watch. I need time to treat his wounds,” he said. Alari eyed the old librarian but nodded, drawing her sword and setting herself up about ten feet away. She was still within eavesdropping distance. Dasai followed her. He didn’t stand. He crossed his legs and leaned against a wall to rest. With all things considered, Dasai should be the least in need of rest. But Sen knew the guy was sneaky, so he masked their conversation further.  

“Silent Sphere Maxim,” Sen said. The others would think it odd if they stopped talking completely. So, for good measure, he added another spell. “False Talk Maxim.” One would keep his conversation with Orttha private; the other would prevent any unwanted information from getting out. Alari and Dasai would hear them talking about how to patch up Orttha’s wounds or something like that. Though there were sometimes oddities with the spell, he couldn’t afford to worry about that now. He didn’t need his identity revealed to a warlord’s daughter. 

Sen turned back and stared at Orttha. “Of course I can, I invented them. A creator recognizes his creations, as a mother her children and a craftsman his work. I felt you tap into my power.”

Orttha’s eyes widened. “I thought…I thought maybe you were an imposter, but…is it really you?” he asked in disbelief. “Has the God of Magic really returned?” Orttha reached out a hand to touch the side of Sen’s face. It was a bit overly familiar, but he allowed it. The man was on the verge of death and in a great deal of pain. 

Besides, his own honesty warranted him some in return. “Are you the one who taught Milim?” he asked.

Orttha frowned. He slowly withdrew his hand. “Yes and no. Her circumstances are unique. She carries a portion of your power, just as I do.” Orttha reached behind his back and pulled a book from a book holder affixed to his waist. He offered it to Sen. 

He recognized it in a heartbeat. The first journal he’d ever written on magic. His early theories on replacing the other stats by creating unique spells that mimicked their effects. This book was the one that made him want to investigate magic further. It was his first successful project. “How did you get this?” He shook his head. This had been destroyed when he was younger. He shook his head. There were some questions to ask now, and some later. He pivoted. “So, Milim has one of my journals as well?” he asked. It would explain her obsession with the God of Magic in history class. 

Orttha’s head leaned from side to side. “In a sense. We both draw power from a similar source, but I can’t explain more than that. That story is hers to tell you. It’s too personal for me to divulge. I’ll tell you this, though, if the cultists discover her secret. That she wields knowledge passed down from the God of Magic himself, they will kill her for it. That power can easily be stolen, and the cultists will be well aware of it. You must save her. You must—” Orthos grimaced in pain. 

“That golem is powerful. Even with your borrowed power, I was defeated. But not without…without learning something valuable. It’s a hive mind. The bodies that comprise it act together, but will endure much more than most. Its strength surpasses that of a demon. I believe its creator plans to make more like it. There are…disturbing things all over this place. Someone’s conducting experiments. I saw more huge flesh golems, half-formed, but even those would prove a threat if fully finished.” 

Sen frowned. One of those things was bad enough. If even more were running around, things could be dire indeed. 

“I think he’s taken some students into his lab too. There weren’t any when I checked, but that thing showed up immediately. I think it can sense when someone enters the lab that isn’t supposed to.” 

Sen nodded. “That’s good to know. Thank you. We need to get you healed.”

Orttha looked up. “You think you can fix this? My body’s a mess. You don’t have time, just go save them!”

Ano and the others were capable, and with the artifacts he’d given Samara and Joseia, they could punch well above their weight. He trusted them. If nothing else, they would buy him time. The cultists and demons were one thing, but the flesh golem had to be dealt with, and Orttha had just given him the perfect opportunity. 

“I’m going to save them. But how would Milim feel if I abandoned you? Besides, we’ll have more to talk about when this is said and done. Now hold still. I’ll try to make this as painless as possible, but it’s gonna suck.”

Orttha sighed. He realized Sen wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Better than dying, I guess.”

Sen held a hand up. “Total Restoration Maxima!” 

As his magic worked, Sen began thinking of the imminent fight with the flesh golem. The product of his own research falling into the wrong hands. He was going to fix that now.