Faust observed the body in front of him. Like the others, it had been reduced to a skeleton... though this one was missing a leg, which lay a short distance away on the gray sand.
Two things on the corpse drew Faust's attention.
The first was the lamp-like artifact, the Plague Bringer. It resembled a small lantern, its frame constructed of thin, dark blue metal bars. Behind those bars, miasma flowed endlessly. The artifact's "body" was cracked, and through the fractures, even more miasma escaped, like a wild animal that ran freely. That likely explained why the miasma here was so strong, spreading unchecked throughout the chamber.
The artifact was lay on the ground besides the skeleton of the Old Rat Prince.
The second item was a small bronze key, lying beneath the skeleton. Though it would have been easy to retrieve, Faust chose not to. Instead, he sat down beside the remains.
Something else had caught his attention.
Every few seconds, brief flashes of the old man's life danced before his eyes, memories not his own, yet as vivid as if they were. From each flicker, Faust absorbed knowledge passively.
"…Maybe I could use this. But now that I think about it, why was I so… careless?"
The sensation he felt within the miasma wasn't alarming… it was natural. Comforting, even. At first, that had unsettled him, reminding him of the time he wore the dark armor without question. But this felt different, he had questioned the miasma, yet still chose to enter willingly.
It was as though some part of him instinctively knew it wouldn't harm him.
Gradually, Faust realized something: the miasma was helping him think.
Thanks to the visions, he had already learned new things and gained deeper insight into knowledge he thought he already understood.
His thoughts came faster and his memories grew sharper, richer in detail; revealing pieces he hadn't even realized were missing. It felt as if the old man's memories were merging with his own.
For over an hour, Faust sat perfectly still... like a pale monolith in a sea of pitch-black miasma. His eyes remained closed, but his mind raced.
One thought surfaced above the rest: a phrase from the book on mana he had received back in the first trial.
"Mana adapts itself to the ambient."
The book had been extremely basic, offering no elaboration about that. At the time, he'd found the line odd, almost disconnected from the rest of the content, so he simply ignored it.
But now, with the miasma aiding his comprehension, he understood.
Mana adapts to the ambient… because mana is the ambient.
It is the force of nature itself, it is life and death, motion and stillness. Everything either has mana or is made of mana.
This phrase was directly connected to the nature of mana itself and the affinities a person could have with it. Mana had three primary affinity categories. First was Fundamental Mana, which included Basic Mana, Holy Mana, and Dark Mana.
Next came Elemental Mana, divided into Fire, Water, Wind, and Earth. Lastly, there was a category of mana that was the most unique and least understood: Unique Mana, which encompassed unusual aspects like Sound or Ice.
Faust had only ever used Basic Mana. It was considered the default, accessible to anyone capable of wielding mana, requiring no special talent or affinity.
The affinity with other types, however, were usually determined at birth and couldn't be changed.
Still, a person's talent with mana wasn't strictly defined by their birth traits, but it was also shaped by their affinity and their environment.
For instance, someone with an affinity for Earth Mana would develop faster if they trained in an area rich in earth mana particles, whereas someone attuned to Fire Mana would struggle to grow near the sea.
In the end, a person's true mana talent could only by themselves, from the moment they could see the mana particles themselves. People with no affinity to a certain mana type would not see the mana particles of said type, while people with affinity will.
Mana particles of different elements varied in appearance. Wind was green, earth was brown, holy was golden, and so on. Some were similar to each other, so someone would usually need to absorb them first to determine if they had an affinity. An example of this was water and basic mana, which were both light blue and almost identical.
It was also important to note that not everyone possessed a specific affinity. Some mages could only use basic mana or might go a long time before discovering their affinity. This was especially true for mages with unique magical affinities, which required very specific environments to even be able to see their affinity particles.
With that in mind, Faust had already ruled out several affinities. He had awakened his mana inside a cave but saw no earth mana particles, eliminating earth. He had meditated near rivers and absorbed mana particles there, but was unable to use water, which eliminated water. Wind, which was almost everywhere and the easiest affinity to discover, didn't respond to him either.
He hadn't tested fire yet, as he suspected that the fire from campfires wouldn't be sufficient, so now that he knew how to reveal an affinity, he would have to try to meditate in a better ambient for fire. However, his thoughts were currently focused on another affinity.
According to the memories of the Old Rat Prince, dark and holy mana were special. Holy mana was extremely rare, to the point that only a few chosen individuals could use it. It required divine environments, such as temples and also needed natural talent.
Dark mana, on the other hand, was compatible with death. And Faust was standing in a battlefield, what better place than this to test for affinity with dark mana?
While meditating, he saw the same blue light particles floating in the air that he always did. He searched for over an hour, looking for anything different, yet found nothing.
Even in a place saturated with death, he couldn't see any dark mana particles. So he ruled it out as well.
Still, Faust was happy. The source of information he was receiving from the miasma was infinitely more valuable than dark mana at the moment.
Thanks to the "memories" of the old man, he had learned a great deal of useful information—such as the location of the Grand Desert City and what to expect there. There was, however, no information about the eighth and ninth trials, and barely anything about the city itself, save for a few fragmented and clouded memories. It was as if the old man's memories about the city after finding the key had been erased, some other "normal" memories were like this too.
He also came to understand what those "memories" really were. They weren't memories at all, but instead, they were something called Will.
Will was a concept the old man hadn't fully understood while alive, but it was enough for Faust to grasp the basics. From what he could tell, it was deeply connected to the soul and mind of an individual.
By itself, Will was the act of implanting your intent, your command or desire, into something. This could be done using mana, which naturally carried Will. That's also the reason for why mana was so easily shaped once used. One could also inject their Will directly into something, though the old man hadn't known how to do that, so Faust couldn't learn it either.
Still, Faust realized something crucial: he had been using Will all along, albeit unconsciously. Whenever he injected a detonation rune with mana, the reason he could activate it with just his intent was because his Will had been transmitted through the mana. The same principle applied to the obedience rune.
Though he wasn't entirely sure, he theorized that the mana in his obedience rune flowed into a living being, implanting his Will into it. However, it didn't erase the creature's own Will. That's why he could issue simple commands and they would be obeyed, without needing to micromanage every detail.
Faust subconsciously associated Will to ink seeping into parchment.
A strong Will was like a dark, thick and unyielding ink, while the soul of the target was the parchment. If the Will was strong enough, the ink would sink deep, staining the fibers beyond erasure, imprinting purpose onto another's essence.
On the other hand, weak Will was like diluted ink. It could still leave a mark, but it would be faint and shallow, and it would require time and repetition, painting layer upon layer, to achieve what stronger ink did in a single stroke. Sometimes, the weak ink it would evaporate before it ever took hold.
When two Wills met, it was not just about who could write upon the other, but whose writing would endure. The stronger Will would overwrite the weaker, breaking through any resistance, asserting itself fully. But even the weaker Will, could eventually find its place… if the parchment was soft enough, or if the ink was patient enough to seep through cracks.
However, in the Faust's and the Old Rat Prince remains case, it felt different.
It was as if his ink had merged with another already written name, consuming the old letters, breaking their form and ink, and in doing so, deepening the color of his own. Not merely imprinting his Will, but absorbing the remnants of another, strengthening his own in the process.
With that in mind, Faust face bore a cold smile, as he muttered to himself.
"Heh, now that I think about it, that bear really was a monster… I wonder how it would compare to the normal slashers…"
Faust remembered the black bear he had fought after leaving the cave, which at that point, had been his greatest enemy. He had needed to use multiple obedience runes to finally command it, essentially flooding it with his Will until it gave in. Hammering the nail multiple times, until it was drive in.
On another matter, one of Faust's concerns ever since entering the trial had been: how could he escape the dungeon? Initially, after the first trial, he theorized that completing all the trials would allow him to leave. But if he couldn't complete them and wanted to exit early, he needed another way. Now, he knew one… though it was far from ideal. He would have to use a portal located at the adventurers' base, in the mountains he had seen before.
They had been stationed there since the dungeon's opening six years ago. Back when the Old Rat Prince had first entered, their defenses had been weak. But based on what Faust had observed from afar, that was no longer the case. There were likely dozens of adventurers there now, along with even probably hundreds of weaker combatants.
Yet something still puzzled him… how did the trial choose its takers?
It was a question he had no answer… for now, at least. So, he remained seated on the ground, meditating, drawing in mana, and letting the flow of new knowledge continue flooding his mind.