Just like the vanished magical creatures, knowledge and records of the Astral Plane had mysteriously disappeared over the past few centuries.
Miranda's lips moved, and her words reached Tashan's ears, crystallizing into a brief realization: the Astral Plane had vanished from written records and human consciousness within the last few hundred years. As this understanding sharply came into focus, something suddenly shifted.
Tasha suspected she heard the sound of gears turning.
It was a colossal clatter—clack, zzzzzzzzz—as if a rusted switch had finally been flipped. Moss and rust loosened, cracked, shattered, and tumbled from the immense mechanism. The first gear drove the second, toppling dominoes in a cascading chain reaction. The roar echoed from Tashar's location all the way to a hundred meters ahead, sweeping across the entire underground city.
What a tremendous roar! As if the colossal mechanical beast beneath her feet had awakened after centuries of slumber, the tremors shook Tashan off her feet. She closed her eyes briefly, countless specks of light flickering behind her eyelids, the world still quaking relentlessly, as if caught in an upheaval from the earth's core. When she opened her eyes, Miranda stood utterly still, only offering her a puzzled expression.
The violent tremor had thrown Tasha off balance, yet the mage before her—far frailer in build—stood perfectly steady, her expression unchanging, as if this fierce earthquake hadn't touched her at all. Then Tasha realized it wasn't "as if"—Miranda truly hadn't felt the tremor.
Inside the dungeon, the artisan dwarves still swung their hammers, clanging away in fervent activity; Soldiers in the training grounds drew bows and arrows, sparring with each other; the herb garden remained serene, not even the most delicate plants stirred... The only one shaken by this tremendous roar was Tasha.
This was an "earthquake" occurring within the dungeon's core.
[Dungeon - Tasha]
Merging and restructuring in progress. Progress: 56/100
Amidst the tremors, the restructuring progress bar suddenly surged by five percent.
Nearly a year had passed since returning from the Astral Plane, yet the progress bar had not budged an inch—not even one percent. During this period, Tashan had intensified construction and collaborations across all fronts, achieving remarkable progress. Magic reserves had nearly returned to their previous levels. Why did this unresponsive progress bar suddenly surge by five percent now—a leap nearly matching the favor of the Abyss?
What exactly were its conditions?
The merger progress bar only displayed a specific percentage when it connected to the Abyss. Tashar had assumed that twenty-five percent represented the accumulated power and time expended over the past decade. But now she realized she might have been mistaken all along. Dungeon upgrades might stagnate indefinitely or surge abruptly at a specific moment. What it required was an opportunity, not magic or time.
The initial 25% upon connecting to the Abyss: 25/100
The 6% increase upon receiving the Abyss's favor: 31/100
The rocket-like 20% jump upon witnessing the Astral Plane: 51/100
The realization that the Astral Plane had 'vanished' for nearly a century: 5%, 56/100
Tasha suddenly understood.
So that's it—it's about "cognition."
The prerequisites for restructuring and upgrading are experiences, sights, and sounds. In a way, it resembles the "experience points" concept from Earth's games. Here, what increases experience isn't slaughter, but understanding this world. That initial twenty-five percent represented Tasha's understanding of Erian since arriving here—like a world resolution chart.
No progress materialized out of thin air. Dungeon restructuring and upgrades weren't passive processes driven by time or magic accumulation. Every unit of growth stemmed from her exploration of this world.
From the moment she opened her eyes here until today, it had never ceased.
The dungeon's passages crisscrossed the four seas, and where its domain stretched, watchtowers rose high. Bell towers and giant trees served as the dungeon's eyes. Tasha surveyed her lands, observing both above and below ground.
Fairy lantern spores crossed customs barriers. Though man-made borders remained unchanged, the magic-infused environment had quietly crossed the line, carrying Tasha's gaze with it. Purple fruits grow beside the sentry posts. Soldiers passing through the grassy patches find their boots stained with the purple pulp. This magical plant holds little sweetness, yet carries the fragrance of fresh grass. Children with a sweet tooth always pluck a few to eat, calling them Purple Lantern Berries.
The Contractors' knowledge of the world is shared with Tashan.
Douglas, riding his dragon, watched the lights below streak past. On this clear night, he could see the human world's glow below and embrace the moon and stars above. The dragon rider laughed heartily from his special seat; no matter how many times he flew with the dragon, his heart always leapt with joy. Barefoot Marion strolled through Angaso Forest when she suddenly transformed into a wolf. She ran like a wolf, rolled like a dog. The silver wolf's keen senses captured every scent and sound in the air. She raised her head and howled, her call echoed by a hundred others.
Druids gathered herbs, busy harvesting plants that bloomed only briefly on nights like this. These listeners to nature moved with stealthy steps, their senses extending through plants and animals to distant realms. The herb-gathering witches were more carefree. Medusa, the Witch of the Evil Eye, sat perched on a branch, whistling off-key while chewing bubblegum made from honey and tree sap. Her cat was in the tree, her dog beneath it, and mice nestled in her hair. She gazed at the forest, and in the witch's eyes, "magic" was clearly visible.
The dungeon's sensory reach was vast. Countless contracters expanded and expanded Tashan's perception, yet its influence extended far beyond. The magical technology crafted by the artisan dwarves, even the magical products using Tashan magic stones over in the empire, all formed subtle connections with Tashan. Through this, Tashan's web was enveloping all of Erian.
Countless minute fragments of information flowed through these peripheral nodes into the spirit of the Sandstone. They were gathered, then organized. Within the Archmage Tower, mages bustled ceaselessly like industrious worker ants. They mended tattered ancient scrolls, they sorted disjointed new knowledge, they studied abrupt questions and gaps. Sparkling minds ignite flashes of insight; diligent fingers inscribe questions and answers. They weave scattered fragments into magnificent tapestries, transforming meaningless threads into intricate networks. Thus, the Tower Sand's cognition advances by leaps and bounds—she is the all-knowing spider at the web's center.
It is an indescribable, wondrous sensation.
Unlike confronting the Astral Plane, that moment was unknowable; this moment was knowable. Tasha's web of consciousness had not yet enveloped the world. Yes, secrets and puzzles still abounded here, but "unknown" merely meant not yet known. At fifty-six percent progress, she glimpsed a conjecture about her ultimate form—an audacious premonition surfaced: at that endpoint—
I am the world.
The thought lingered for but a fleeting instant before vanishing, forgotten like a dream fading swiftly upon waking. Only a surging emotion remained within Tasha. She couldn't recall the image that had flashed through her mind, and soon dismissed it as unimportant. It didn't matter. It was too soon. The time had not yet come.
"Thank you," Tashara said solemnly to Miranda.
Even if the robed mage harbored any confusion about Tashara's earlier lapse, she gave no sign of it. "My pleasure," Miranda replied with a shake of her head. Before departing, she added reluctantly, "We didn't uncover much."
The mages' contributions far exceeded her expectations.
Progress: 56/100. As Tasha grasped what was driving the restructuring forward, she witnessed a long-awaited building upgrade.
The last upgrade to the dungeon structures had occurred many, many years ago, yielding only minor, inconsequential tweaks. This time, however, a monumental change manifested within the library.
Yes, that very structure—the ancient building preserved beneath the dungeon's core, the library that once housed the Dungeon Book.
"Advanced Library Structure [Hall of True Knowledge] unlocked."
The dungeon library had been utterly empty except for Victor, the Dungeon Book. Tashar had once wondered why this building didn't automatically generate books—after all, the dungeon kitchen produced bread on its own. This space had lain idle for years, illuminated only by the faint glow of runes on the ceiling and floor. Now, a new light appeared here.
The door to the Hall of True Knowledge lay behind an empty bookshelf in the library.
That bookshelf looked entirely different from the aged library. Amidst the dark, weathered wood, only this section was as white as marble. When Tasha opened the door, her face was illuminated by a white glow.
It was almost like a color inversion. Outside, the library featured heavy bookcases crafted from brown timber, its ebony dome inlaid with magic stone stars. The place clearly bore the weight of centuries of neglect; approaching it, one instinctively moved in hushed steps, afraid to stir dust or disturb ghosts. Yet beyond this door, every shelf radiated pure white. Ivory-hued frames were outlined with brilliant gold, and an unknown light source shone like sunlight. Columns doubled as bookshelves, and beyond the shelves... nothingness.
Tasha felt dizzy. For a few fleeting seconds, she almost believed she was in the Astral Plane.
No, this was not it. The light was soft and steady, the space hazy like mist, yet not distant, not infinite. Every shelf was filled with books, but each volume was shrouded in a gentle glow, indistinct and untouchable.
For within the Hall of True Knowledge, it was not the volumes themselves that could be read.
A human-height circular mirror floated before Tasha, bearing a small, shifting keyhole. When she placed her hand upon it, countless phantom keys materialized in midair.