He stopped, sensing a mind of unusual strength from one of the rats ahead. He mentally ordered his floating light to intensify for a moment and was rewarded with a disquieting sight of a rat missing the top of his head.
For a full second, Zorian and the cranium rat stood still and watched one another in indecision, trying to decide on a course of action. Then — gently, hesitantly — the rat extended a telepathic probe at him, trying to worm into his mind. For one small moment, Zorian considered trying to take it on telepathically, but then discarded the thought as stupid and risky. He was completely untrained in telepathic combat, and that one rat was merely a conduit for the entire cranium rat collective. So instead he drew his brand new spell rod and fired a magic missile at it.
The moment he reached for his spell rod, the rat immediately dropped its telepathic probe and tried to run. It was too slow. The bolt of concussive force slammed into the tiny creature with a loud crack, pulverizing its bones and crushing it into paste.
Well, so much for that. Zorian extended his mind sense as far as he could, trying to sense the rest of the collective, but found nothing. Either this one was an isolated scout or the rest had some method of hiding from his scans.
By the time he had decided to move on, the pulped body of the cranium rat was already being enveloped by a green, translucent mass of crawling gel. The oozes that patrolled these walled-off sections of the dungeon were artificially engineered to be less dangerous and aggressive than their wild counterparts, but Zorian was never a fan of tempting fate and did his best to side-step the things as he moved past them. Acid burns were hard to heal, even with magic.
When he finally did find the aranea, the meeting was pretty disappointing. The aranea he met was one of those that didn’t know how to talk to humans, so it took him 10 minutes of telepathic pantomime that left him with a raging headache, and once the matriarch finally showed up she basically told him to get lost for a few days until she came to terms with the contents of the memory packet.
Not an unexpected turn of events, but he had been hoping that the matriarch had refined her memory packet into something that could convince her past-self a bit faster than last time. The matriarch was a bit pushy and conceited, but it was nice to talk to someone about the time loop. Also, the truth was that there was little he could do to unravel the mystery of the time loop without aranea help other than steadily gathering magical skills and keeping his eyes open.
As he walked back to his room to sleep off his newly-acquired headache, he tried to think of a way to advance faster in his magical studies. He needed a teacher. One willing to teach him spells most instructors would consider too dangerous for the likes of a freshly certified student. Who did he know that would… oh.
That just might work.
The next day, when Taiven came to recruit him into her little sewer expedition she found him practicing combat spells on one of the Academy training grounds instead of sleeping in his room. He could have easily warded himself against her divination spells at this point, but having her track him down was part of the plan: he was hoping to recruit her as a sparring partner, and possibly teacher.
He had always thought he had gotten over Taiven’s (oblivious) rejection of him, but apparently there was still some lingering resentment remaining because he noticed something very important in the previous restart. Something he should have noticed way sooner, had he not been unconsciously ignoring her and pushing her away. Taiven was not at all opposed to helping him out, especially if the help was somehow related to combat. Why was he insisting on learning combat magic alone, without an instructor, when he was friends with someone who specialized in that very field of magic?
So here he was, carefully casting magic missiles at the target in front of him, trying to make them as mana efficient as possible. He was hoping that Taiven would offer to help on her own when she saw him practicing, and he wasn’t disappointed. She did, however, attach a condition to her offer.
«So, in conclusion, I get a month of instruction from you, free of charge, in exchange for joining you on this sewer run of yours?» Zorian asked.
«Yup!» Taiven said happily, looking very satisfied with herself. Zorian could guess why — she just found a way to pressure him into accompanying her, and all it took was promising to do something she was inclined to do anyway.
«I suppose that’s okay,» said Zorian, mentally considering how he should approach this. He could, of course, simply trail after them and let them fumble around for a while — it’s what Taiven expected him to do, and he was pretty sure the aranea wouldn’t ‘attack’ while he was present. However, after some thought, he decided to go for a different path. «I have a request though. I am on speaking terms with a colony of sentient spiders living in the sewers, and I have a sneaking suspicion they’re the ones that supposedly took the watch. I’d like to try actually talking to them before you go in and start burning things.»
Taiven gave him a curious look. «You are friends with a bunch of giant, sewer-dwelling spiders?»
«Pretty much,» Zorian agreed with her. He would describe the aranea as acquaintances and allies of convenience instead of friends, but she didn’t have to know that. «I trust you and your friends can keep that a secret? I’m sure you can see why spreading that around might cause problems for me and the spiders both.»
«Don’t worry, I’m not a tattletale,» Taiven said dismissively. «And I’ve yet to see Grunt and Mumble engage in any kind of gossip, so your secret is safe with us, oh great monster charmer. You think they’ll just hand us the watch if we ask?»
«If the client’s story is not made up, then yes. I don’t see what use they would have for a pocket watch. But anyway, I have a request for you before you run off to do your thing.»
«Oh? And what’s that?»
«Teach me a fire spell more destructive than flamethrower,» Zorian said.
«How big are your mana reserves?» Taiven immediately asked, not at all disturbed by the request.
«Magnitude 12,» Zorian said.
«Hmm, a little lower than I thought, but decent enough I guess,» Taiven said. Zorian decided to keep quiet about the underwhelming nature of his natural reserves. «What kind of spells are you looking for, anyway?»
«Preferably something that can one-shot a troll,» Zorian said.
Taiven looked at him like he was crazy. «What? Roach, you’re far too green to go around picking fights with trolls. What the hell are you on?»
«Just humor me, Taiven,» Zorian sighed. «Besides, this is pure self-defense — I won’t be picking fights with anything.»
«Hmph,» Taiven shrugged. «Says a guy who goes around meeting giant spiders in the sewers in his free time. But alright, I guess if you’re going to do stuff like that you’ll need some stronger spells under your belt. I expect an explanation about that soon, though.»
«After the summer festival,» agreed Zorian smoothly.
«I’ll hold you to that,» Taiven said, poking him painfully in the chest. «Now, there are two spells that kind of fit your criteria, although they will only kill a troll if you can hit the troll in the face with them — fire bolt and incinerating ray. The bolt can home in on the target and is cheaper in terms of mana use. The ray is far more damaging, but also far more of a mana hog and you need to worry about your aim.»
«Teach me both,» said Zorian. The bolt seemed like something that would be more generally useful for someone like him, but he needed the raw power as well.
«You sure you have the shaping skills for this, Roach?» Taiven asked. «‘Cause this kind of spell isn’t going to fizzle out if you fail — it will blow up in your face.»