My arms could, however, manipulate essence and all the things created from it, and this was why I needed them to help me with the moss.
The thing was, I’d practiced with an illusionary core arm back in the academy, but using the real thing was different. They just couldn’t get the weight right in the simulation.
So I tried again and again, finally grasping the moss on my fifth try.
Careful now. Don’t drop it.
I guided the hand back to me until the moss reached my body.
Absorb.
The moss seeped deep inside me. It tasted delicious, and it made me want to absorb it fully. Doing that would heal me if I were hurt, but it wouldn’t help now. It’d leave me with nothing, and then I’d truly be screwed.
So I resisted temptation. I fought really, really hard. I let the moss sit there, brewing in my core soul.
One hour.
Two hours.
Three.
I distracted myself by trying to remember things from my past life, but the memories wouldn’t come. The overseers said that would happen. Shame. There were some people who I felt like I missed, but I just couldn’t remember their faces.
After a fifth hour, I had almost dozed off. For a resurrected immortal core who doesn’t need human things like sleep, that was quite a feat.
Then a message appeared to me.
Dungeon moss converted into essence seeds!
Ah. Here we go. We’re in business!
I used my arms to remove the essence seeds from my core and place them back on the wall where the moss had been, but I was a little choosier this time. See, essence seeds grow best lower on the ground, because they only spread upwards, and placing them at the top would be a waste. I hate wasting things. The overseers said that preference would make me a good core.
Where there had only been one inch of moss, the converted seeds actually covered ten inches of wall space. Using my core arms, which were configured to let me handle things like essence but nothing more than that until I leveled up, I planted the seed back in the mud, at the bottom.
Now it was time to wait again. How long did it take essence seeds to grow, anyway?
My favorite overseer, Bolton, had taught me about that. He said they grew much quicker than plants and flowers. It felt good to replay his voice in my head. It was like having a friend here.
How long until I could create real friends?
First things first, Beno, I told myself.
Beno was my name now, but I’d had a different name in my first life. The overseers said we couldn’t keep our old names. We had to cut ourselves off from what we used to be. That was okay with me.
In the hours that it had taken for me to convert the seeds, my inner essence had replenished back to 1. As a level 1 core, there was little for me to spend it on yet, since I hadn’t earned any of the skills that the best cores had.
So I used the dig command again, taking another block of mud from the wall. This time, something very pleasing happened. Something that made me smile…and I really liked to smile.
Dig increased to 1.1%
Ah-ha! Self-improvement is the key to enrichment. Overseer Bolton taught me that.
Excited, I used dig again and drew another chunk of mud from the wall. Unfortunately, the effect of .1% improvement was barely noticeable. And…I’d used up all my essence. Sigh. Nothing to do but sit.
And wait.
And whistle.
The overseers, except Bolton, used to get a little annoyed by my whistling back in the academy, but there was nobody here but me. This was my dungeon.
“I hereby proclaim that whistling is forever allowed in Beno’s dungeon,” I said.
My voice sounded strange, using it in this little room. A first lifer would have said it sounded strange in any room. Most people have never heard a dungeon core talk, so they can’t really appreciate its strangeness.
I decided that Beno’s Dungeon was a crummy name for my lair. While I waited for the essence seeds to grow and my essence to replenish, I thought about different names.
The Spirit Tunnels?
Lair of the Vanquished Demon?
Bloodfall Caverns?
Nope, none of them sounded right. The trick as a new core was to choose something that didn’t sound too tough. See, I’d eventually need to attract heroes to my dungeon, but I didn’t want to entice ones that would breeze through all my traps and monsters, reach my core room, then pummel the hell out of me.
The best heroes would look for the dungeons with the meanest sounding names. I didn’t want those guys coming here. Not while I was a newbie core.
I also didn’t want to attract a bunch of chumps, either. I wouldn’t level up much from killing low-level sword schmucks.
There was so much to do before I could even think about getting heroes here. I’d have to create rooms. Spawn some friends. I mean, monsters. Create traps, find some loot.
Then I’d have to think about hiring a surface liaison who could handle stuff for me. See, I’d be able to learn crafting if I chose to, and I’d be able to create my own loot, but some cores found it easier just to buy it.
Then again, things are always better when a person makes them by themselves. It makes them feel like they’re worth more, somehow.
Anyway, I was way, way too weak for all that right now. I wouldn’t be weak for long…but I was right now.
Luckily, in my hours of whistling, pondering over dungeon names, and making plans, two things had happened.
Firstly, my essence replenished again, so I dug some more. I had
