The forest began to thin, giving way to jagged gray peaks that pierced the twilight like broken teeth. Following a trail marked by heavy bootprints and the scent of coal smoke, Stephen stumbled upon a sight that felt grounded and real: Gahrat-Zhur, a fortified dwarven mining outpost built directly into the mountain's flank.
As he approached the heavy iron-reinforced gates, the sound of grinding stone echoed. A squad of dwarves, clad in thick gambesons and chainmail, leveled heavy crossbows at him from the ramparts.
"Halt, human!" a voice barked. A dwarf with a beard braided with copper rings stepped onto the walkway. He looked at Stephen's singed mage robes and the rusted Heritage Sword with deep suspicion. "We've enough trouble with the woods spitting out nightmares. We don't need a ragged sorcerer adding to the heap."
"I'm not looking for trouble," Stephen called out, keeping his hands visible. The System hummed in his mind, providing a strange, intuitive sense of the dwarf's hostility. "I'm a traveler. I heard there was work."
The dwarf, a foreman named Thrain Ironfoot, spat over the side of the wall. He signaled for the gates to open just a crack. "Work? We've got more than a man can handle. The lower galleries—our primary silver vein—have been overrun. But these aren't the usual cave-lurkers. They're... wrong. Smells like ozone and rot down there."
Stephen stepped into the courtyard. The atmosphere was grim; wounded dwarves sat by a forge, their skin mottled with strange, glowing chemical burns that didn't look like they came from any creature native to the North.
"They're fast, translucent, and they spit acid that eats through plate," Thrain continued, his voice lowering. "My kin can't get near the shaft. You clear those halls, and we'll pay you in coin and let you keep whatever scrap you find in the deep. If you've got the stomach for it."
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[ NEW MISSION: THE HOLLOW VEIN ]
Objective: Clear the Lunacid infestations from the Gahrat-Zhur Mines.
Reward: 500 Points & Access to the Dwarven Forge.
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Stephen looked at the dark, yawning entrance to the mine. He knew those symptoms. Slime Formations and Poison Mist. Creatures from the Great Well were colonizing the dark places of this world.
"I'll do it," Stephen said, his hand instinctively moving to the Grimoire of Fire Magic at his belt.
"Right then," Thrain grunted, handing him a crude map scratched onto parchment. "Try not to die in the dark. It's bad for morale."
As Stephen walked toward the mine entrance, he felt a surge of relief. The System was giving him a path. In this unclaimed land, gold was good, but the 500 Points were his real lifeline. He needed to master more than just fire if he was going to survive the deeper layers of this new reality.
******
Standing at the threshold of the Gahrat-Zhur mines, Stephen felt the damp, chilling draft of the deep earth. The darkness within was absolute. He reached into his satchel and pulled out the Grimoire of Light Magic. The pages hummed with a soft, rhythmic vibration. He traced the silver runes with his finger, manually studying the geometry of the Ghost Light spell until the knowledge clicked into place.
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[ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ]
Skill Learned: Ghost Light (Level 1).
Mana Cost: 5 per cast.
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He raised two fingers, speaking the incantation. A small, bluish-white orb of light flickered into existence, floating above his shoulder and bathing the stone walls in a steady glow. Drawing his Heritage Sword, he stepped into the abyss.
******
The deeper he descended, the more the air turned foul. Soon, a wet, squelching sound echoed through the tunnels. From the shadows of the support beams, the floor began to move.
Slimes.
First came the standard Slime Formations, translucent green blobs that dealt poison contact damage. Behind them rolled the Slime Skeletons—morbid spheres of jelly possessing human remains, wielding wooden spears with surprising reach. Finally, he encountered the Devil Slimes—massive, green gelatinous masses roughly the height of a man, their bulky arms and insect-like mandibles twitching as they guarded the deeper shafts.
Stephen recalled the system's logic: Ice spells are fatal for these creatures, while fire is only average. Since he only had fire, he had to be precise.
As a Slime Skeleton lunged with its spear, Stephen dived and unleashed a Fireball. The flame didn't shatter the creature, but the intense heat caused the jelly to boil and hiss. He followed up with a heavy overhead strike from his sword, cleaving through the skeleton's core. Against the Devil Slimes, he used his Ghost Light to keep their mandibles in view while he hacked at their bulky appendages, the fire from his palm cauterizing their green, translucent flesh.
******
Hours later, Stephen emerged from the mine, covered in foul-smelling green residue. Thrain and his dwarves were waiting.
"The main shaft is clear," Stephen said, wiping his blade. "But you're facing three forms of infestation: basic slimes, skeleton-armoured variants, and those hulking Devil Slimes with the mandibles. They are all green, all poisonous, and they will melt your boots if you aren't careful."
The dwarves exchanged grim looks.
"Listen to me," Stephen continued. "They are incredibly weak to ice, but if you don't have mages, you need fire-based weapons. Torches, oil, or heated bolts. Fire isn't the fastest way to kill them, but it's the most effective tool you've got to stop them from regenerating."
Thrain looked at the mine, then back at Stephen with gruff respect. "Fire, eh? We can do fire. We're smiths, after all. You've done us a solid, lad."
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[ MISSION COMPLETE: THE HOLLOW VEIN ]
Reward: 500 Points.
Reputation Gained: Gahrat-Zhur (Friendly).