Her look of shock only lasts for a moment, and is just as quickly replaced with a sour expression.

  “I was taught a great deal about other peoples, including beastkin. Foxkin in particular, for their… unique tendencies,” she huffs, turning her nose up.

  Trick.

  With a sly smile, I ask, “Want me to prove it?”

  I make no effort to hide my expression; I want to see if she’ll walk right into this. If she does it knowingly out of sheer stubbornness, well…

  She did say she needs mana to survive. Who am I to deny her?

  She narrows her eyes. “Fine. Show me.”

  My grin turns downright feral. I send my mana regen through the ring again. A full five seconds this time. I watch her writhe in the grass for a bit, then lay my head atop Mom’s tombstone once more.

  When she finally regains enough of her sense to glare at me, it’s faltering at best. She looks almost drunk, her eyes are so hazy.

  “Don’t give me that look,” I scoff. “You literally asked for it. You believe me yet, or… maybe you want another dose?”

  “No!” she flushes. “No, that was plenty. I meant for you to show me your Status, not… oh, never mind. How do you even have so much regeneration?”

  “Really awesome Skills. System Waker stuff, you understand,” I say flippantly as Fae Ferocity fades away. “Anyways, weren’t you doing something with that fancy compass?”

  I lazily point to where it lays in the grass, dropped and completely forgotten while she had her... moment. I’ve wasted too much of our time playing around already, and she hasn’t told me how we’re meant to get away from our stalkers.

  She tries to growl at me, but it comes out as a feeble groan. “I was, until you interrupted me.”

  It takes her a couple of minutes to regain her strength, though her legs still wobble slightly as she moves to pick up the compass. She notices me watching her and she glares at me.

  “You are aware that I’ll get you back for this, correct?”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” I say with a wink.

  She splutters for a moment, then spins away and plops down in the grass to focus on the compass. Instead of letting my mind wander like last time, I wrap myself around the tombstone and relax into it.

  It’s cool against my skin, and it seems to almost sap the stress from my body along with my warmth. I close my eyes to indulge in the sensation, and for a moment, it almost feels as if she’s there with me, caressing my ears like she always did.

  I’m pulled from the memory too soon by the sound of Arabella’s voice, and slowly open my eyes to find her looking right at me.

  “It’s ready. Before we go, though… I’d like to finish my earlier request,” she says hesitantly.

  “You may not know this, but Arcanthir can’t touch anyone or anything with mana without draining it. It’s why I’m covered as I am,” she says, and I take a moment to analyze her once more.

  Everything but her head is completely covered in fabric or leather, not even showing a sliver of skin. She gives her gloved hand a forlorn look before continuing.

  “But… if I’m already absorbing mana from something, that isn’t a concern,” she says, her eyes finally meeting mine, a flicker of hope lighting her gaze. “So I’m wondering if—”

  “Yes,” I interject.

  I already know what she’s going to ask, and I know my answer. I’d never refuse something so simple after everything she’s done for me. Plus, I can hardly imagine not being able to touch anything or anyone.

  “W-what? But you don’t even—” she starts, and I interrupt again.

  “I said yes. You wanted to ask me to send you mana constantly, right? So that you can interact with things and people normally? The answer is yes.”

  With that, I send five percent of my regeneration her way. I’m not sure how much mana a Mage of her level would normally have, but what I send is enough to give her just over 3,300 mana per second.

  She strangles an indecent moan, before squeaking, “Ah! T-too much!”

  I widen my eyes at that, then drop it to just one and a half percent, or about 1,000 mana per second.

  She sighs in relief and… contentment?

  I guess it makes sense, given it’s effectively her food source. Still, I don’t hold my smirk back.

  “Better?” I ask.

  She takes a couple deep breaths, steadying herself through the influx of mana.

  “This will take some getting used to,” she mutters, then gives me a nod.

  “Great! Now, what’s the plan? How exactly are we going to avoid the mercenaries?”

  “If it comes to it, we’ll need to run again. But with the levels we’ve gained, it should be easier to escape. That said… we may not need to,” she says.

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  I groan.

  More cryptic nonsense. Great.

  She quickly continues. “The compass, or rather, Bluebell’s Pathfinder, guides the way to places that aren’t usually… there. I don’t know how, exactly, the magic works, but it changes things.”

  I give her a confused look, tail flicking with curiosity behind me.

  “How do I explain this…” she mumbles, tapping her lips. “Oh! I once used the compass to sneak out of the palace when I was young, and when I opened my bedroom door to sneak out, it opened to the gardens instead of the palace halls.”

  My eyes widen slightly at that, but I’m still skeptical.

  “Do you think that will work with a dungeon exit?” I ask.

  At this, she shrugs.

  It doesn’t take long for me to figure out where to go from here. I turn away from her to kneel in front of the tombstone. For a few seconds, I simply stare at it, committing it to memory.

  It seems to be made of solid white marble, with etchings of pure mana making up the epitaph. It shifts inside the carvings like tiny rivers, spilling from one flowing letter to the next.

  The script itself is far, far more elegant than my own, and the mana control to make the etchings is beyond me. As far as I can tell, nothing should be holding the mana in place to illuminate the carved words.

  But not even a wisp escapes.

  I place a lingering kiss atop the stone. As I do, a new goal settles deep in my heat and soul.

  One day, I’m going to return to the forest outside of Bephis—where I was found all those years ago—and recreate this grave.

  Standing, I approach Arabella before turning away and kneeling down, offering to piggy-back her again.

  “In that case, let’s prepare for the worst. Hop on, just in case we have to make a run for it again,” I say.

  I hear her breath catch, my ears swiveling outwards as if seeking the sound, but I don’t pay it any further attention. I almost feel guilty for tricking her earlier.

  Almost.

  She slowly drapes herself over my back, and I hold her under her thighs before standing. One of her arms wraps around my neck, while the other holds the compass out before me where I can easily see it.

  Suddenly, I begin to feel a little self conscious. Her breath is hot against my neck, and I can feel her heart racing against my back, even through our clothes.

  I nearly have a heart attack when I feel her settle onto the base of my tail, her legs wrapped tightly around my hips where I hold them. It takes everything in my power to restrain it from wiggling even a little.

  I clear my throat. “Ready?”

  She nods into my shoulder, and I approach the familiar black metal door.

  Dungeon exit discovered!

  Would you like to leave the dungeon?

  Yes / No

  The moment I select ‘Yes’, we appear somewhere else. Even dark as the Tunnels are, the natural starlight the rocky walls emit is enough for me to see that we’re in a empty passage.

  And it's definitely not where we entered the dungeon from.

  I grin.

  As Arabella had hoped, the compass must have done something to move us closer to where we want to go. After quickly looking around to make sure we’re alone, I look back to the compass for guidance.

  Its needle rapidly spinning around, never settling on any one location.

  I whisper, “Why isn’t it working anymore?”

  She quickly tilts it towards her face and scowls. Then she closes her eyes and concentrates. I keep my eyes peeled for any signs of danger as she does, never looking at any one place for longer than a moment.

  Then I spot a blessedly familiar collection of symbols on a flat section of the wall some twenty paces away. Runes surround the symbols, feeding off the ambient mana to protect them.

  Can't have the magic of the Tunnels erasing the directions, now can we?

  The symbols are a simple communication system made for Delvers to find their way within the tunnels. In this case, there’s the number four, followed by a few flat horizontal lines, and an arrow pointing farther into the tunnel.

  Below it is the number six, followed by identical symbols, but with the arrow pointing the opposite direction—towards us.

  Directions to the fourth and sixth layers.

  “Chasm damn this stubborn thing!” Arabella hisses, snapping me from my revelations.

  I shush her, and she huffs angrily before storing the compass in her own storage device. I still hadn’t figured out what hers was, though I suppose it doesn’t really matter.

  “I take it that it’s not going to be of any use anymore?” I ask.

  She sighs, nodding into my shoulder as she slumps onto me, disappointed. My tail gives an involuntary twitch against her, and she stiffens. I give her thighs a little reassuring squeeze.

  “Good thing I know where we are, then,” I say, then begin to walk down the tunnel, following the directions to layer four.

  “You do?” she perks up.

  “Mostly, yeah,” I say, approaching the symbols on the wall and nodding to them. “See?”

  She gasps. “Oh, thank the Gods.”

  I nod. “We’re still a week or so from the surface, and I still have no idea what city we’re below… but yeah,” I say, then I chuckle and start to walk again.

  She sighs. “When, exactly, are you going to set me down?”

  I turn my head to look at her, our faces dangerously close. For a moment I just stare, her eyes pulling me in like they did when I first saw her across the lobby of the train.

  Even in the dark, she really is beautiful…

  “Why would I ever do that?” I murmur.

  She narrows her eyes, but I can see her cheeks turn a shade darker. “You can’t rightly carry me for an entire week, now can you?”

  A grin slowly blooms on my face.

  “Then I guess I’d better hurry, hm?”

  Play.

  Fae Ferocity kicks in again, and for a moment I’m surprised with how easy it is to get into a playful mood with her. She just brings it out of me better than even Cari does, and she's not even doing it intentionally.

  It’s fun.

  She gives me a confused look, but I face forward and activate and supercharge All For One and glance at my Status.

  Status

  Name: Emilia

  Race: Faefox

  Age: 20

  Level: 63

  Health: 34,620

  Health Regen: 12,617 per minute

  Mana: 471,891

  Stored: 943,782

  Mana Regen: 4m per minute

  Stats:

  Strength: 500 (1,812)

  Constitution: 769 (2,788)

  Dexterity: 1,299 (4,710)

  Intelligence: 989 (3,586)

  Wisdom: 5,898 (21,382)

  Charisma: 500 (1,815)

  With this much Dexterity, I bet I could make it in… five? Six hours?

  I grin at the idea of climbing all five layers in the time it takes most people to clear the first, then I start running.

  She lets out an indignant squeak of surprise, but clamps down on her outburst the moment it happens. She tightens her grip around my neck with both arms, threatening to choke me.

  If my stats weren’t so high, she’d likely have succeeded. Still, as it stands, her Strength is nowhere near high enough to overpower my boosted Constitution.

  I can’t help it—I laugh. It mixes with half-barks and yips as it usually does, echoing loudly off the Tunnel walls for all to hear.

  She unleashes a truly impressive verbal assault on my character for a good half hour, going on about how I should have more respect and be more gentle and so on and so forth. Then I leap over the heads of a pack of kobolds before they can even register our passing, and her rant cuts off.

  The moment I land, she lets out a breath of relief before telling me to slow down.

  I ignore her the entire hour or so it takes for us to reach the stairs that lead up to the fourth layer, and I quickly come to a stop.

  In the cavernous space at the bottom of the stairs is a camp with nearly a dozen tents. In front of them, twice that many people stand in a protective formation, their weapons pointed at us.