Chương 20: Siphon

I didn't have a stone with the correct shape to create a Siphon—not yet. The next day, when I left camp with the others on our watchtower report chore, I instead scoured the riverbed for any sign of a large rock I could turn into a siphon. Something preferably long and skinny, and with a few flat faces. I didn't exactly know what the runes did, which was probably why my Skill wasn't 'rune carving' and instead just [Carving (Novice)].

But since all eight sides of the octagonal pillar had the same chain of runes up and down them, I figured I could get away without a perfect eight sides as long as I had enough room for all the runes in a single chain. It would just create a weaker siphon. Once I found the rock I wanted, I carried it with me into the Labyrinth. There was no sense in working on a siphon outside the Labyrinth if I could bring it in and also help myself condense a Skill while I was at it.

I used my usual strategy—straying close to distracted ruin-hounds, enough to feel the danger and risk them attacking me. Not all of them were distracted, of course, but they often fought each other, even when there was no meat. And when they were fighting each other, they didn't notice me. It certainly wasn't as effective as a proper battle in the Labyrinth, and I could feel the effectiveness wearing off over time as I grew more confident in the ruin-hounds' presence. But today was different.

I needed to split my new rock and shear off a few more flat surfaces on the sides—I hoped I could get five. I'd be making a lot more noise, and the chances of the ruin-hounds seeing and attacking me was high. So, using a few other wedge-shaped rocks I'd gathered, I began shearing off the lumpy, rounded surface of one of my rock's sides, splitting it along a vein of some kind of crystal. It was probably salt or quartz or something, something not very valuable.

After all, it had just been laying on the banks of the Thelea River. But as soon as I drove the wedge down, creating a crack-boom that echoed through the halls of the Labyrinth, both the ruin-hounds turned their attention toward me. I gulped.

"Hey, guys…" They snarled, and I had to think fast. There was no meat to distract them with, nothing to make them fight themselves over, so I jumped onto an old statue at the center of the room. Wet moss made my hands and boots slip, but I scrambled to the top, then pointed my now-blunt spear at the ruin-hounds. They growled, and one of them scrambled on the sides of the statue, its claws clicking on the stone, but it couldn't get to me. The second had better luck.

It circled around, backed up, then pounced, leaping toward me, jaw wide. I jabbed it in the mouth with the blunt end of my spear, holding it back and sending it skittering across the floor. I almost decided to bite the bullet and jump down there, to kill both of them and make my life easy, but that was a massive waste of an opportunity. I perched atop the statue's head, balancing as best I could.

The statue reminded me of a Roman emperor bust, with curly hair and a laurel circlet that I could wedge my feet into and keep myself balanced. If I fell, I'd be food for the ruin-hounds. If I wasn't vigilant, they'd leap up and haul me down. It was the perfect combination of risk and reward. I began chiselling and smashing my rock, shearing off a flat surface on the side and smoothing it down as much as I could.

I had no way of telling the time, but by my best estimate, it took about an hour—between smashing the stone, desperately shifting to maintain my balance, and fending off the ruin-hounds. My calves were doing the worst. It was a cramp, like I used to get when I was just starting to learn moguls. This body wasn't used to movements like this yet. I wasn't sweating as much as I thought I would, but my arms ached from constantly pushing back the ruin-hounds between smashing rocks.

When I finally had something I was happy with, a pentagonal rock column about a foot long, but only a few inches across, I began carving the runes. I'd copied the runes from Shave's siphon onto a corner of parchment, but only in ink. In the previous days, I'd practiced carving them. But with the enhanced danger of the ruin-hounds, and with my slowly crumbling balance, I couldn't help making a few errors.

An hour later, my legs were trembling like I'd been doing a wall-sit the entire time, and I couldn't stop myself from swaying. But I'd finished the runes. Now it was time to test it. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Clenching my gut, I launched off the statue with a leap, flinging myself as far away from the ruin-hounds as I could. I landed behind them, spear in hand, and turned back to face them.

They whirled to meet me as well, and they showed no hesitation, so I responded in kind. With a lunge, I turned my spear over and rammed its tip through a ruin-hound's snout. The beast wasn't dead, but it did fall backward, whining. The second jumped toward me, latching onto my forearm. My chainmail hauberk protected me from the worst of it, but one of the ruin-hound's snaggled teeth slipped between the links of the chain and scratched me. The pressure its jaw exerted alone would leave a bruise.

Bashing the ruin-hound on the head with one of my bracers, I struck it until its jaw released, then stabbed it in the eye with my stolen orc spear. The ruin-hound died, but its friend was a little smarter. It opened its jaw wide and aimed for my un-armoured calf. I pulled away, saving myself from the worst of the strike, but its teeth grazed my leg, leaving a small bite mark. Shouting, I drove my spear down, piercing the top of its head and sending the beast careening into the floor. Its jaw snapped.

To be sure it was dead and not just unconscious, I stabbed it in the eye as well. It was time to test out my new siphon. I pressed it up against the beast's mangy fur, right into its neck where I thought its jugular was. Nothing happened. At first, I doubted my carving proficiency, which was possible, but given that the runes carved in the mud worked, at least for a simple effect like light, then my slightly better runes had to at least function slightly. Did I need a Presence to power it?

But Shave would've warned me if I did. No, that couldn't be the case. I chewed the inside of my lip. There was a Path-walker at the top of the tower for a reason—because powering runes took that thing that Shave had mentioned. Maegen? But how did Shave and the other sergeants, who didn't have Maegen and weren't proper sorcerers or anything, make the siphon function? Maybe there was something inside it that helped it function. Maybe I'd been a little too hasty in attempting this.

But when Shave had let me inspect the proper siphon, it hadn't even rattled. There were no caps on the end to take off or put on, so how could a pre-industrial society even get something inside it and seal it so perfectly? I waited, pressing deeper, until a drop of the ruin-hound's black blood beaded down the side of its neck, dribbling out the monster's eye. As soon as it touched the end of the siphon, something about the blood changed. It became shinier, then it bubbled and boiled, and finally, evaporated.

My cheap dollar store knock-off siphon trembled in my hands. At first, the stone grew so warm it threatened to cook my skin. A few degrees hotter, and I would've dropped it. In an instant, the bottom runes began glowing, and that was enough. It drew a swell of energy from the ruin-hound's flesh, but it wasn't the same as Presence. The runes on the siphon's sides lit up with orange light, travelling through the carved lines in the side of the stone column before it reached the top. A sphere of white mist condensed.

It was smaller than the other Presences, but being in a Labyrinth, I was guaranteed to get one. The flesh of the ruin-hound's neck disintegrated. Energy flowed out of it, filling the siphon. Did that mean its flesh held maegen? And without it, the beast's flesh was nothing but dust? I grimaced, wanting to know more, but I'd gotten the Presence, and that was all that mattered. I grinned, then ran to the second dead ruin-hound, achieving the same result.

I rolled both Presences around in my hand, staring at them with satisfaction. For the first time in my life, it felt like I was truly responsible for earning these. My parents had put me in skiing lessons before the divorce. They'd made me do it, and eventually, I came to enjoy it. I'd gotten into university, sure, but by all metrics, I'd just been a normal, painfully normal middle-class kid. But now, I'd built myself a siphon.

I'd increased my Presence income infinitely, and with this device, I could finally start growing. A few more weeks, and I'd have everything I needed to get to Iron. With a warm feeling in my chest, I raced out of the Labyrinth, but once I took a few steps away from it, I stopped and glanced back. Something felt ever so slightly off. I held onto my thoughts until I regrouped with the others, but when we were walking back to the camp, I asked Shave, "So for a thousand years, we've had Dupes.

Yet no one has tried to exploit the Labyrinths like I just did?" Of course, I then had to explain how I'd gone and exploited the labyrinths and what I'd done. Since I didn't have a reading slate, I wasn't certain, but just from today's slightly more stressful encounter, I could almost guarantee that some other bit of knowledge had improved, and it felt about the same skill level as [Stealth]. That meant I had gained yet another new Skill.

"I'm sure someone has," Shave replied.

"Perhaps the sappers encourage it. I can't say. What I can tell you is that it doesn't make sense, as a military policy, to try to exploit the Labyrinth in large numbers. Think about it. It just wouldn't work. You couldn't do it in Gate territory, because luring monsters is impossible when there are very few monsters within our borders, and shipping them in is expensive. And if you tried to get the whole army to do it, it wouldn't work. Not everyone can become powerful—resources are too scarce." I chewed my lip.

He was right. No matter how much I wanted, not everyone could do what I was doing. But at the same time, there was more they could be doing to prepare for the war to move south. Romance added, "Not everyone is as crazy as you, Levi."

"Keep your head up, Levi," Ticks said.

"Maurifus should be done with your next request. When we get back, we can pick up your new gear."