Dungeon Miner Slave

Flinx felt a flicker of disappointment upon reaching level nine in his wizard class when it came to earning experience points. The final floor of the Dungeon of Mara now yielded a mere one percent experience per completion. At that rate, even with three runs a day, it would take him four to five weeks to reach level ten.

It was, by any reasonable measure, acceptable progress. Still, he had already reconciled himself to the fact that once he reached level ten, he would have to move on to a far more dangerous dungeon.

For the next two weeks, Flinx committed himself to a relentless routine. He departed at six each morning and returned to the tower by seven in the evening—early enough to dine with the others and spend a short time in their company. With his increased power, he could now clear the fiftieth floor of the Dungeon of Mara in four hours. Three runs a day demanded twelve hours of continuous effort.

Such a schedule would exhaust most adventurers. Flinx, however, found satisfaction in it. Each spell he cast, each wave of destruction he unleashed upon the dungeon’s creatures, reinforced his sense of purpose. The devastation he wrought was not merely efficient—it was gratifying.

He relied primarily on his most powerful magic. His seventh-, eighth-, and ninth-tier spells dominated each encounter, leaving only remnants for his four elementals to dispatch. Lower-tier spells saw little use beyond defensive measures and the occasional third-tier Fireball.

The Floating Orb of Spells continued to drift at his side, unused. Its presence was unnecessary, yet he kept it close. It projected an image he found fitting—one of authority and mastery.

After two weeks of uninterrupted delving, his progress reached forty-four percent toward level ten.

The rewards had been substantial. After paying the guild’s tax, Flinx had accumulated 692 low-level mana stones, 384 medium-level stones, and 190 high-level stones, all stored within his fourth tab space. In addition, he had acquired six magical items. Of these, he retained two.

The Cloak of Displacement proved invaluable, enhancing his defenses to a degree he found difficult to ignore. The Ring of Spell Storing offered further security, allowing him to prepare defensive spells for emergencies. The remaining items were sold to the guild, earning him nine hundred gold coins after deductions.

His total savings now exceeded eleven thousand gold coins. He briefly considered using them to settle his taxes, but dismissed the idea. For now, he preferred to pay in mana stones, allowing his wealth in coin to accumulate. When the amount became sufficiently large, he would reconsider.

It was then that another thought took hold.

His time in Ilioven was not permanent. Eventually, he would leave—perhaps abruptly. Olivia and her brothers would endure. Olivia’s business was thriving, and her careful nature ensured continued stability. Christopher’s path toward becoming a skilled chef was clear, while Ambrose’s ambitions as an adventurer promised him independence.

The four children, however, were another matter.

Education alone, Flinx realized, was not enough to secure their future.

After consulting Olivia, he learned that Ilioven maintained two banking systems: one under the Merchant Guild and another under the Adventurer Guild. Both were reputable and widely established across the surrounding kingdoms. However, accounts within the Adventurer Guild were associated with powerful individuals, making fraud exceedingly rare.

Given his standing, the choice was obvious.

Despite the late hour, Flinx brought the children—David, Arcios, Keero, and Violet—to the Adventurer Guild. The building never closed, and his status as a Diamond Rank adventurer ensured immediate attention.

The process required each child to provide a small sample of blood, binding their identity to their account. It was a simple but effective safeguard.

Flinx deposited two thousand gold coins into each account, with the condition that the funds would remain inaccessible until the child reached sixteen years of age. When the guild staff presented them with their bank cards, the children’s excitement was unmistakable. They embraced him without hesitation.

To them, it was a gift.

To Flinx, it was a safeguard—and only the beginning. He intended to add more time, though he kept that to himself.

He had taken them in. That alone, in his view, carried an obligation.

His larger mission remained uncertain. The effort to rescue his fellow Earthlings from the wizard enslavers was fraught with risk, and he understood the possibility of failure. If he did not survive, the children would still have a foundation.

The bank cards themselves were merely symbolic. Even if lost, the accounts remained secure. Only the children’s presence would grant access when the time came.

On their way home, Flinx treated them to street food. They arrived close to midnight and were promptly scolded by Olivia.

He accepted it without protest.

For the first time in days, perhaps weeks, Flinx felt a quiet sense of completion. He had done what he could—for the children, for Olivia, and for her brothers.

Now, he could return his full attention to the path ahead.

He would continue delving until he reached level fifteen.

After that, he would begin the far more dangerous task: rescuing the Dungeon Miner slaves.

For the next three weeks, Flinx devoted himself entirely to the final floor of the Dungeon of Mara. Through steady, disciplined effort, he eventually reached level ten in his wizard class.

It was a significant milestone.

The advancement brought an immediate increase in his overall spell power, enhancing both the damage and the effectiveness of his magic. More importantly, his available spell slots expanded, granting him greater flexibility in combat.

The changes within his transmigration system, however, proved even more noteworthy.

To his surprise, he gained access to a tenth-tier spell slot. Its potential was considerable; any spell placed within it would be amplified far beyond its normal limits. Flinx had assumed that his spell slot progression had already reached its ceiling, but this development suggested otherwise. He began to wonder how far that progression might extend.

An even greater revelation followed.

Upon reaching level ten, the system informed him that he had unlocked the ability to dual-class.

The announcement presented him with several potential class options to pair with his wizard specialization. However, the system imposed strict rules and limitations. Before making any decision, Flinx reviewed them carefully.

The mechanics differed substantially from those of the well-known fantasy tabletop role-playing game he was familiar with. Aside from the naming conventions of certain spells, there was little resemblance. Whatever governed his transmigration system operated under its own distinct logic.

Dual classing came with a clear cost.

Experience gained would now be divided between two classes. A dungeon run that would normally grant two percent progress would instead provide one percent to each class. Advancement, while broader, would inevitably slow.

There were further restrictions. The system imposed a maximum level cap of twenty-five for a single class. Should he choose to dual class, he would no longer be able to reach that limit as a wizard. His growth would be split, preventing full mastery of either path.

Even so, the advantages were difficult to ignore.

A second class would grant him access not only to additional abilities and spells, but also to an entirely separate pool of spell slots. More importantly, these slots could be used interchangeably, creating opportunities for combinations that a single-class progression could never achieve.

Flinx understood the implications.

The decision before him was not merely a matter of preference, but of long-term strategy.