That was the haul from last time they entered the labyrinth and killed that mud golem on the first level.

Aside from a bunch of mud, they’d also picked up a lump of white clay—magical-item grade.

And now he’d just obtained the Level 2 spell [Shaping Magic: Clay].

Honestly, Gauss was starting to think the panel’s rewards might not be random after all.

He pulled himself back to the present.

It hadn’t been long; Selandur and Alia—back in human form—were busy collecting the spoils.

Snapping out of his brief daze, Gauss joined them.

“Changed back already?” he asked as he came up beside Alia. “I thought you could stay transformed for hours?”

“A bit tired,” Alia admitted, a little sheepish.

Fighting in wolf form took more out of her than she’d expected.

Her stamina wasn’t bad, but compared to Gauss or a warrior-type, she was definitely behind.

“Turning into a raven seems to use less energy,” Alia added.

“Sounds like it scales with the creature’s size and power,” Gauss nodded.

After looting, the three of them took a short break a little ways off.

There were far fewer monsters on the first level than the last time they came.

Maybe the Adventurers’ Guild’s bounty commission were doing their job.

A lot of low-tier adventurers didn’t dare push into the riskier lower levels, but on the first level, if you were careful, the danger was lower than you’d think.

Or put another way: surface commissions were risky too; at least in the labyrinth you might stumble into special windfalls.

They cleared a patch of ground.

They drank, ate, topped up their strength, and quietly waited for Echo to bring back intel.

Gauss used the downtime to practice the freshly learned Level 2 spell.

He was itching to try this “higher-level” magic.

It was like getting a new phone or PC in his previous life—if he didn’t play with it for a couple of days straight, the itch wouldn’t pass. This felt exactly like that.

He sat on a broken stone pillar and laid his white staff across his knees.

The moment he touched the staff, magical inspiration kept welling up.

Riding that wave, he closed his eyes and sank into his inner sea.

There, numerous faintly glowing spell models drifted past.

The brightest among them was the newly formed model of the Level 2 spell [Shaping Magic: Clay].

“Definitely not something a Level 1 spell can compare with…”

It hung in the center of his mind like a spinning galaxy; compared to the clean, straightforward structure of Level 1 spells—or even cantrips—its complexity had skyrocketed by orders of magnitude.

Hundreds of pale-gold threads of conscious energy wove together into a honeycomb-like 3D lattice, runic lights flickering at each node. Just looking at it would give any first-time Level 2 caster a headache.

From an average caster’s perspective, building this purely by will would take ages.

Even for him, doing it unaided wouldn’t be a walk in the park.

Good thing I’m not average.

With the model already pre-built, reverse-reading its structure was far easier than erecting it brick by brick from scratch.

As time passed,

Gauss quickly formed a preliminary grasp of the spell.

Clay Magic belonged to the transmutation school and required a physical medium.

He could also use whatever was on hand—manipulating bare earth with mana and the spell effect to mold and reshape it, temporarily giving it some structural stability—but the results would be much weaker.

The optimal approach was to use mana-conductive clay or specific soils and shape them into living forms.

Once proficient, he could try imbuing the clay with a trace of [Animus], granting it rudimentary “intelligence” to carry out simple preset commands—attack a foe, guard a target, haul items, and so on.

Until the infused mana ran dry, clay creatures would keep functioning; even if part of the body was destroyed, they could pick up scattered clay and self-repair.

As for acquiring [Animus], that wasn’t complicated either—if he used Clay Magic to kill creatures capable of simple thought, the clay would naturally absorb the [Animus] that leaked from them.

However, this animus was consumable and couldn’t be stacked in bulk; in other words, a clay construct’s intellect would never scale up without limit into true sapience.

That realm would be the domain of creating life itself.

At least for now, as a Level 2 mage with a Level 2 spell, [Shaping Magic: Clay] was nowhere near that level.

After feeling it out,

Gauss had a hunch this monster index reward spell had a very high ceiling.

That wasn’t just favoritism because it happened to be his first Level 2.

Studying its model, he sensed an almost “open-source” quality, as if it could combine with many other spells or materials to yield new magical effects.

If that guess was right, then [Shaping Magic: Clay] wasn’t just a stand-alone spell—it had the potential to branch into an entire series.

Harvest bird animus, make clay fliers, pair them with some kind of shared-vision spell—boom, high-altitude eyes.

Use spider animus, pack in simple explosives or pair it with potent fire magic, and you’ve got mobile landmines.

With enough clay, he could make a large clay golem to serve as a temporary mount, or something else.

A few thought experiments and ideas were bubbling up.

Of course, he also knew most spell models were narrow and didn’t support every “what-if”; only very rare spells had that kind of divergent potential, and even then it followed underlying rules—you couldn’t just do anything.

He sincerely hoped his gut was right—then this monster index reward would be far more than a simple Level 2 spell.

With that, he decided to do some hands-on practice.

He pulled from his pouch the white clay they’d gotten after killing the mud golem—about the size of a basketball.

He didn’t take much for practice—just an egg-sized piece, which he set in his left palm.

He gripped the white staff in his right hand and called up the spell model within.

Mana began to flow.

Unfortunately, after just a moment it stuttered and cut off.

Gauss wasn’t surprised.

New spells always took some trial and error—especially one normally meant for Level 3 casters and above; actually casting it was that much harder.

Still, based on experience, the ramp-up wouldn’t take long.

After a few tries, Clay Magic’s power finally flowed smoothly into the white clay.

The clay squirmed in his hand like a maggot for a few beats, then stilled.

“Caw!”

Right then, Echo returned overhead, calling as he came.

Gauss put practice on hold and went back to clearing trash mobs.

Whenever there was a lull, he kept practicing Clay Magic.

He wanted this Level 2 down fast.

He wasn’t trying to hide it, so Alia and Selandur soon noticed the movement in his hands.

“New magic?”

“Yeah,” Gauss nodded. “Clay-related.”

“…Must be nice,” Alia said after a beat, a faint sourness in her tone. “You bloodline-gifted types can awaken spells without spending a coin.”

He’d shown her [Ghoul Form] over the last two days, so she’d come to believe Gauss was a human with a fairly pure ancient bloodline.

That also explained his abnormal physical stats and the occasional “new spell” popping up.

Ordinary humans rarely awakened special blood unless they were non-human to begin with, like Selandur; once awakened, mutations of varying degrees followed.

Some were benign, others malignant.

Benign meant keeping one’s human form and reason while wielding alien gifts; malignant meant being eroded by foreign blood, the body warping and fouling—severe cases lost reason and humanity and devolved into beasts or monsters.

Gauss, in her eyes, was the highest tier of benign mutation—the kind of stroke of fortune every adventurer dreamed of.

Faced with Alia’s envy, Gauss said nothing and just kept practicing.

In moments like this, anything he said would sound like humble-bragging. Silence was classier.

…

Gauss put the clay away.

After a few hours of practice, he’d made some headway.

The clay would now change shape to his will—slowly, but it meant he’d found the groove.

Level 2 Spell Shaping Magic: Clay Lv1 (1/10)

Now that it appeared on the skill panel, leveling it was only a matter of time.

Gauss exhaled.

“It’s getting late. Let’s head back to the entry hall.”

Echo returned from scouting just then, and hadn’t found any monsters nearby.

The other two nodded, and under Gauss’s lead they made straight for the first level entry hall.

The ambient glow dimmed; only as they neared the hall did the warmth of campfires and torches light the world again.

The vast hall buzzed with voices. Adventurers gathered here—drawing water from the fountain, cooking over fires in the corners.

Those with means hit the surrounding shops to unwind after the day.

Back in the hall, a touch of Gauss’s magic had them all clean and tidy again.

“Do we cook ourselves or eat out?” Gauss asked, eyeing the bustle and leaving the call to his teammates.

“Either’s fine,” Selandur shrugged. He wasn’t picky—he’d even tried those worms goblins ate.

“Let’s go to a restaurant. My treat,” Alia said after glancing between them.

These two were a little too “open-minded” about food. After a long day she just wanted a normal meal—she half-feared Gauss would whip out those thin worms he’d caught earlier and start cooking.

“Sure.” Gauss realized he’d never tried a labyrinth eatery—maybe they had signature labyrinth dishes—so he agreed.

They led their chocobo around the plaza and Alia picked a barbecue place.

“Feeling generous?” Gauss grinned.

Barbecue wasn’t cheap—especially with his current appetite. He could afford it, sure, but sometimes even he winced at the bill.

“Mm.” Alia hesitated, then nodded. She had decent savings—it should be fine.

They went in and a server greeted them. The interior was surprisingly tranquil, most patrons giving off a seasoned-adventurer vibe.

“Any private rooms left?” Alia asked, scanning the hall.

“Sorry, the private rooms are fully booked, and there’s only one table left in the hall.”

“The hall’s fine,” Gauss waved. It would be noisy, but perfect for gathering intel.

Seated in a corner, Alia started ordering while Gauss covertly sized up the other adventurers.

By his hazy sixth sense, only two or three in the whole hall felt threatening.

That didn’t mean he’d grown that strong; at this stage, many truly powerful adventurers couldn’t even enter yet—they had to wait for the labyrinth to grow and open further.

In the current labyrinth, his practical combat power might already be near the first tier.

He observed while picking out tidbits from the drunkards’ chatter.

Plenty were talking about intel on the second and even third levels, some even mentioning entrance locations—sadly, those spots had likely shifted, turning the info stale.

As he listened with one ear and waited for food, another party came in at the door.

“Boss, if you’re buying I’m going all-out—your wallet’s thick anyway.”

“Dorian, when are you ever going to treat us?”

“Next time, next time. My money’s… spoken for lately.”

The voices sounded familiar.

“Sorry, folks. We’re full. Would you like to wait a bit, or try another place?”

Gauss’s table was the last one, so the four who came in were quickly stopped.

Gauss looked up, and his gaze met Quake’s as the man scanned the hall.

“It’s him!”

Both thought at once.

Quake was the captain of the Iron Arm squad Gauss had crossed paths with during the winter hunt—they’d looked out for him a bit.

Gauss exchanged a look with Alia, then turned to Selandur and asked softly,

“Got some friends—mind if we share the table?”

“No problem.” Selandur slid his chair closer to Gauss.

After the quick exchange, Gauss stood and waved the four over.

“They’re with us—could you add a few chairs? We’ll share,” he told the server.

With that, the server had no objection, and soon everyone was seated.

“Didn’t expect to run into you in the labyrinth, Gauss.”

“Long time no see, Captain Quake.”

Quake’s gaze lingered on the three, first noticing the adventurer badges they wore.

A 3-2-2 lineup wasn’t pushovers for this stage of the labyrinth; the badges alone warded off a lot of trouble.

Quake and his teammates all felt a tug of complicated emotions.

When they’d first met, Gauss and company had been Level 1. Now Gauss was Level 2, Alia the druid had also advanced to 2, and they’d added a Level 3 serpentfolk teammate.

He’d seen at the door: their dynamic clearly put Gauss in the lead.

A Level 3 taking cues from a newly minted Level 2, and it didn’t look like a hireling relationship—wasn’t that turning the world upside down?

It upended some long-held notions.

But as he sat near Gauss, a faint oppressive aura crept over him—as if instinct warned him away from something dangerous.

Was it Gauss? An illusion? Or was he really that strong? Quake wondered, face blank as he kept the small talk going.

“How’s the delve going?”

“Not bad. We reached Floor 2 last time; this run we’re aiming for Floor 3,” Gauss said openly—it wasn’t a secret.

Third level, huh… Quake nodded, glancing at the silent serpentfolk nursing a drink beside Gauss. Seeing Gauss’s confidence, the last trace of superiority quietly left him.

The kid was something else. Next time they met, the man’s strength—and backing—might be far beyond his own. He sighed inwardly and forced a stiff smile.

“I’ve got a contact on Floor 1 digging up the current entrance to Floor 2. Should have it by morning—want to head out together?” Quake lowered his voice.

“Are you sure?” Gauss wasn’t going to turn down a perk like that, but he asked politely.

“No trouble—just a piece of intel,” Quake chuckled. “We all came out of Grayrock Town; we should help each other.”

“Thanks. Then dinner’s on me,” Gauss said, waving the server over to add more dishes.

Across the table, Kathy and Dorian traded a look, both a little puzzled.

It felt like their captain was being unusually friendly with Gauss—maybe even a touch… ingratiating?

But how could that be? Despite Quake’s hearty demeanor, his teammates knew he kept a scale in his heart—in plain terms, he was a bit calculating. He just didn’t show it.

The barbecue wound down.

Besides eating, they traded a lot of labyrinth intel—shifting passages, special monsters you wouldn’t see outside.

Afterward the two parties split up, agreeing to set out together in the morning.

Once they were away, Quake the Level 3 swordsman and Sana the Level 3 sorceress fell silent.

“You felt it?”

“Yeah.” Sana nodded.

“Scary. He wasn’t like this when we met on the caravan.”

“Give it a bit and he’ll be a Level 3 mage,” Sana sighed. She’d barely spoken at dinner—the faint menace rolling off Gauss had killed her appetite.

Level 3 mage? Seriously?

Dorian remembered the first time he’d seen Gauss in the forest. Back then, he’d puffed himself up over being Level 2 while Gauss was a Level 1 rookie. In a blink, the guy had left him in the dust.

So this was talent?

…

The night passed uneventfully.

The next day.

Since mounts weren’t practical on Floor 2, Gauss paid a stable to board theirs, then met Quake’s group at the agreed spot.

Overnight, he noticed they kept smiling at him. He was the one freeloading their intel, yet it felt like the roles had flipped. He was puzzled, but let it be.

“Shall we?”

He’d kept practicing Clay Magic back at the inn; proficiency was now at Lv1 (6/10), and he figured he could push it to Lv2 today.

Unlike his other spells, Clay Magic at Lv1 wasn’t combat-ready; he likely needed Lv2 before he could imbue animus and create basic clay creatures.

But with Quake’s trio around, he minded his manners and didn’t keep practicing while riding.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long.

With a rough location, both parties soon reached the current entrance to Floor 2—a deep stairway descending out of sight.

“Good, the intel checked out,” Quake exhaled.

At least it hadn’t been a wild goose chase.

They followed the passage down.

Before long, the light brightened.

Exiting the corridor, the verdant world of the labyrinth’s second floor spread out before them again—lush shrubs, moss, and insects like an underground garden.

“Back to second level.”

“We’ll take our leave here,” Quake said; they didn’t plan to continue with Gauss’s team. Sharing intel was favor enough—sticking together would only make things awkward.

Two separate teams meant messes—who gets what when the loot drops? Even if leaders could hash it out, would everyone else be cool? They weren’t close enough to party up.

“All right—stay safe.”

“You too.”

They watched the four disappear into the brush.

Selandur, the serpentfolk, shook his head.

He didn’t like that swordsman—too slick—so he’d barely spoken to him since last night.

Even after the man learned his class and warmed up, Selandur didn’t engage. He knew it was a flaw—he just couldn’t muster interest in chatting with people he disliked.

With Gauss he talked plenty; with Alia he could manage some small talk—they were still getting used to each other.

Selandur flicked his tongue, and only after confirming the Iron Arm squad was well away did he speak. “Captain, last time on second level I found a hidden room,” he rasped quietly. “I was alone, so I didn’t go in.”

“Want to check it out this time?”

“A hidden room?” Gauss mused.

According to public intel, such rooms often housed monsters above the floor’s average level—and paid out correspondingly richer rewards.

The spider ghoul nest that had knocked him out last time had probably been one. Creatures of that tier shouldn’t have been on second level; he and Alia had likely stumbled into a hidden passage, leading to everything that followed.

That less-than-pleasant experience had left a shadow in his heart, so Selandur’s intel gave him pause.

Once bitten, twice shy.