“So,” Viktor began, his gaze lingering on the weapon in the Crocodilian’s grip, its cold blade still flecked with dried blood and entrails from the last skirmish. “You’re saying that you can transfer the power of the Reliquary into Sebekton’s axe?”

  He and his Guardian were standing in the vibrant Core Room, before the dais where Celeste’s crystalline form hovered. After receiving its message, they had come without delay, to seek confirmation of what it had said. And the Dungeon Core provided the answer, with its usual flat, monotonous tone.

  [That is correct, Master.]

  Viktor frowned at the matter-of-fact response. This is... unexpected.

  Reliquaries were weapons or equipment imbued with unique abilities or enhancements that could only be found in dungeons. He knew them well. He used to be an adventurer, after all. In the past, he had conquered many dungeons and claimed countless of these artifacts.

  He also knew how they came into being: they were created by the dungeon itself. Which meant once Celeste had leveled up enough, the Dungeon Core would gain the ability to allow him to conjure Reliquaries out of thin air, just like he did with the gold.

  But transferring the power from one vessel to another? He had never heard of such a thing. But, then again, he had never worked with another Core before Celeste. The idea of a talking Dungeon Core had been just as alien to him before the encounter on that fateful day.

  “How does it work?” Sebekton asked, his remaining eye glinting. Clearly, the Crocodilian, too, was intrigued by the prospect.

  [The process is quite simple. I am simply transferring a soul from one container to another.]

  Viktor blinked in surprise. “Souls? Reliquaries have souls?”

  [Yes. Reliquaries, also known as phylacteries, are vessels used to contain souls.]

  “Wait a second,” Viktor said slowly, furrowing his brow. A memory from a distant past resurfaced. Brandt’s mocking voice. The sentient blade always had a retort for everything he said. “By soul, you mean a human soul?”

  [Yes.]

  Was that why these artifacts were called Reliquaries in the first place? Was Brandt the same? A human soul bound to an inanimate object?

  Sebekton looked down at the axe he had taken from the warrior woman he slew, his scaled fingers tracing its edge. “So, this was created from a human soul?”

  [Yes. Of course, creating new Reliquaries is a high-level ability, one that I have not been able to unlock yet. But transferring a soul from an existing Reliquary into a new vessel is not a problem. I can do it whenever you want.]

  “Interesting. I’ve learned something new today. However,” the Crocodilian said as he scratched his lower jaw, his gaze never leaving the axe, “I still don’t understand the connection. How does a Dungeon Core make a weapon from a soul? How does it work exactly?”

  [To be accurate, Reliquaries are not forged from souls directly, but from their crystallized essence.]

  “Essence?” Viktor asked.

  [Yes, essence. The exact same thing we harvest when an adventurer dies inside the dungeon. If grinding essence into mana is possible, why are you surprised at shaping it into tools?]

  “Well, that’s true. But what is crystallized essence, then?”

  [When someone dies outside a dungeon’s domain, their essence obviously will not be collected. Instead, it simply dissipates. Fade to nothingness. That is what happens to most souls when their bodies perish. They are lost forever, vanishing into oblivion. But sometimes... the essence condenses, crystallizes. And in even rarer cases, with the right conditions, crystallized essence can evolve. Into...]

  “Into what?”

  [Cores.]

  Viktor blinked. “Cores. Like you.”

  He recalled the theory that dungeons were creations of the Forgotten Gods, who made the Cores by infusing human souls into crystals. So there was some truth to it, after all.

  [Yes. All Dungeon Cores began as crystallized essence. In a sense, we are cousins.]

  “You used your cousins as ingredients to make items?” Viktor’s lips curled into a sardonic smile.

  [Crystallized essence that failed to become a Dungeon Core is not sentient. It is simply material. Not using it is just a waste of resources. Besides, is it not better to give them a new purpose rather than leave them to exist in stasis for eternity?]

  Viktor chuckled dryly. He had forgotten that he was dealing with a monster of logic that was completely devoid of emotion. Well, they suited each other perfectly.

  “What do you think?” he asked, turning to Sebekton. “Do you mind having a soul, well, the crystallized essence of a soul, bound to your axe?”

  “No, not at all.” The Guardian shook his head. “Getting a more powerful weapon is never a bad thing for a warrior like me.”

  “Good. Let’s do it then, Celeste.”

  [Understood. Please, hold the two weapons before me.]

  Sebekton moved forward, his right hand gripped the haft of the massive axe, while his left held the Reliquary.

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  [It is done.]

  “Wait, what?” Viktor raised an eyebrow. “That’s quick.”

  In fact, it looked like nothing had happened at all. There were no crackling sparks in the air, no arcs of light streaking across the chamber, no surge of mana, no fiery transformation, no dramatic display. Nothing.

  Sebekton, too, studied his axe with a skeptical frown. He turned it over in his hands, his slit-pupiled eye narrowed. It still looked the same. There was no sign suggesting that the magic had taken effect.

  [You can test the axe’s new power if you want.]

  “Understood.” Sebekton nodded, turning to Viktor. “I will go outside and give it a try. Would you come with me, Master?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’ll stay here. Give me a report later.”

  The Guardian bowed and left. Once he was gone, Viktor sank into a chair, his mind wandering as his eyes roamed absently around the room. They passed over the mural on the wall, still not updated yet, but he knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. Soon enough, Celeste would add Sebekton’s victory over Manfred’s party, carving the carnage into the stone.

  [Master, what is the problem?]

  Viktor didn’t answer. Fragments of the earlier conversation drifted through his mind. Reliquaries. Souls. Essense. Dissipate. Condense. Dungeon Core.

  A growing unease began to build up. He had a feeling that there was something seriously wrong with the new knowledge he had just gained, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. And then, a realization dawned upon him—

  His head snapped up. “Celeste.”

  [Yes, Master?]

  “If what you said is true, then what am I?”

  [What do you mean, Master?]

  “You said that when someone dies, their soul will dissipate. But if that were the case, then how did I come back from death? I am not a Dungeon Core. I am not a Reliquary. I am not crystallized essence or whatever. So, what am I?”

  [What I told you is simply the laws dictated by the Gods. However, if someone with power equal to theirs intervenes, even such laws could be rewritten.]

  Viktor frowned. He recalled the strange encounter he had with that mysterious man. A traveler between worlds, and the one who had granted him this reincarnation. He had always known that the man was powerful, but on par with the Gods themselves? Why did such a being come to meet him and bestow upon him this gift? Was it a mere whim, or part of some grand design?

  There’s no point in thinking about it.

  Such a godlike existence had powers and motives far beyond the comprehension of mortals like him, so trying to make sense of it all was just a waste of time. He decided to shove everything aside, focusing on something else to distract himself from the uncomfortable topics that began to creep into his thoughts.

  “Stats!” he barked. “Show me your stats!”

  [Yes, Master.]

  More minions. More pawns. But was he really the master, when he himself was a resurrected pawn, a puppet whose strings were pulled by a being who walked between worlds?

  Focus, Viktor. Focus.

  “The ‘Summon Lesser Minions’ skill. Details! Give me details!"

  [Yes, Master.]

  Gremlins are the latest addition to the summoning pool, huh?

  They were the goblins’ even more cunning cousins. Mischievous, quick, and clever, they preferred to attack from afar with projectiles instead of engaging their enemies in melee, sometimes using bizarre gadgets they had crafted themselves. These creatures were undeniably resourceful, and he was going to find many ways to use them, both in and outside of combat.

  “The ‘Summon Water Minions’ skill. Show me!"

  Viktor raised an eyebrow, turning to Celeste. “Acolyte of the Deep?”

  [They are followers of a being they call the Great One of the Deep. Unlike other creatures we could summon, they don’t actually come from one single race, since they could be anyone who has chosen to worship the Great One as their God. In return for their devotion, they are bestowed with “gifts,” which greatly increase their power, but also physically mutate their bodies.]

  “Ah, the tentacle guys.”

  The adventurers called them “sea warlocks” or “mutant warlocks.” Ugly bastards, sure, but there was no doubt they were powerful. They commanded water, they summoned storms, they conjured illusions. But what stuck in people’s minds was their signature move—the tentacles. Huge, thrashing limbs that burst from the water’s surface to smash against their enemies with bone-crushing force, or ensnare them and drag them helplessly into the depths below. They would make a fine addition to his forces in the water realm.

  On the other hand... hearing the word “god” again really left a sour taste in his mouth.

  Gods be damned...

  "Now, the 'Summon Greater Minions' skill!" Viktor ordered. Unlike the previous two, this was not an upgraded version of an old skill, but a completely new one.

  Cyclops, huh? While these hulking brutes suffered from low intelligence and poor depth perception, making them a bit slow and clumsy, they more than made up for it with raw physical power. Towering and imposing, these creatures could easily overwhelm enemies with their sheer size and crushing blows. Simple, but effective.

  In terms of strength, they could rival even Sebekton, especially considering that Viktor could summon several of them at once. It was perfect timing, too. The Guardian was still recovering from the injury to his eye, and Viktor didn’t want to risk him in combat until he had fully healed.

  So for the time being, he was going to deploy the Cyclopes to defend key points throughout his dungeon. He would also keep a few in reserve, so that he could reinforce weaker spots whenever necessary.

  That’s the last one, huh?

  It would be nice if there were more new skills to inspect, more shiny little distractions to bury his mind in, so that he could forget the unpleasant stuff he would rather not think about. But there weren’t. So with a grunt, he shoved himself to his feet.

  [What are you going to do now, Master?]

  “Go home.”

  That was enough for today. Too many things had happened. Jeanne’s overwhelming power, Blondie’s devastating explosives, the battle with Manfred’s party, Sebekton’s injury, the transfer of the Reliquary’s power, the new skills, and—

  Souls and essence.

  Death and reincarnation.

  Viktor sighed. Rest came first; everything else could wait until he was ready to sort it all out.