The faculty residential wing of Lornfell Academy was entirely separate from the student dormitories. It was a luxurious, highly warded building surrounded by manicured gardens, meant to give the professors absolute privacy on their days off.

Arthur walked up the cobblestone path, his heavy satchel slung over his shoulder.

He didn’t strictly need to report his weekend dungeon dives on a Sunday. But Arthur’s mind had been running in circles since yesterday. He had memorized every single pixel, item drop, and monster spawn in Lornfell’s Legacy. But that black, pulsing core? He had never come across anything like it while playing the game.

The dark ore felt deeply ominous. And Rule 101 of surviving a fantasy world was simple: if you find something anomalous and terrifying in a beginner-level dungeon, it’s definitely tied to something massive. Don’t play the hero. Don’t try to solve a world-ending mystery on your own.

If his meta-knowledge was failing him, he needed a local expert. And Professor Elena Moon taught Advanced Magical Theory.

Arthur entered the lavish lobby. A middle-aged man with thick glasses and a professor’s robe was picking up his mail from the front desk.

"Excuse me," Arthur said politely.

The man looked up, blinking in surprise at the student uniform. "Yes? Can I help you, young man? Students aren’t permitted in the faculty residential perimeter."

"I apologize for the intrusion," Arthur said smoothly. "I’m a student of Professor Elena Moon. I encountered some severe difficulties in my practical studies and need to consult her about it. We’ve already arranged a meeting."

Arthur lied without missing a beat.

The professor’s expression shifted from annoyed to understanding. "Ah. Well, if your professor is expecting you, then I suppose it’s fine. Professor Moon is in suite 402, fourth floor. Don’t make a habit of bothering her on her day off, though."

"Understood. Thank you, sir."

Arthur bypassed the lobby and took the magi-lift to the fourth floor. He found room 402 and knocked twice on the heavy oak door.

There was a rustling sound from inside, followed by the unlocking of a heavy ward. The door swung open.

Professor Elena Moon stood in the doorway. She was not wearing her strict, form-fitting pencil skirt or her perfectly pressed blouses. She was dressed in an oversized, incredibly thin white silk sleep-shirt that slipped lazily off one shoulder. The hem barely reached her mid-thigh, exposing her long, bare legs. Her dark hair was a messy, alluring tangle around her face.

When she saw Arthur standing in the hallway, her eyes instantly lit up. A slow, highly predatory smile spread across her red lips.

"Well, well," Elena purred, leaning against the doorframe and crossing her arms, which only pushed her heavy cleavage further up against the thin silk. "A house call on a Sunday? What brings you here?"

"I need a consultation, Professor," Arthur said, his voice perfectly flat.

Elena chuckled, a dark, sultry sound. She stepped back, opening the door wider. "Come in. But leave the formalities in the hallway. You’re in my home now."

Arthur stepped inside. The suite was massive, smelling of expensive jasmine perfume and sweet wine. It was also a complete mess.

A pair of sheer black stockings were draped over the back of a velvet armchair. A delicate, incredibly small pair of crimson lace panties lay casually discarded on the armrest of the sofa. Elena made absolutely no move to hide them. She walked over to the small kitchenette, completely unapologetic, her hips swaying deliberately with every step.

"Wine?" Elena offered, pouring herself a glass of red.

"No," Arthur replied, walking toward the center of the living room.

He stopped near the glass coffee table, his eyes locking onto an object sitting right next to an open book of magical theory.

Arthur’s pragmatic, unfazed demeanor cracked for a fraction of a second. He stared at it.

It was a foot-long, translucent purple mana-crystal. But it had been flawlessly carved and polished into a highly detailed, unmistakably phallic shape. Faint, glowing runes were etched into the base, and the entire object was currently humming with a low, rhythmic vibration that literally rattled the glass table.

Arthur blinked, his deadpan expression faltering. "What the fuck is that?"

Elena turned around, following his gaze. She didn’t blush. In fact, her smile grew impossibly wider. She walked over, casually picking up the vibrating crystal toy and rolling it playfully between her manicured hands.

"Advanced magical theory requires practical application, Arthur," Elena teased, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. She took a slow sip of her wine, her dark eyes locking onto his. "It’s an enchanted friction-gem. Self-warming. Auto-pulsing. Are you curious? Or are you just taking notes for your own equipment?"

Arthur regained his composure instantly. He stared right into her eyes, refusing to let her win the frame.

"I prefer hands-on experience, Professor. Relying on batteries makes a mage lazy," Arthur replied coldly.

Elena let out a sharp, genuine laugh, tossing the toy back onto the couch. "Gods, you are entirely different from the boy in my classroom. So, if you didn’t come here to inspect my underwear or my toys... what brings you to my dorm on a Sunday?"

Arthur dropped his heavy leather satchel onto the table.

"I was in the Iron-Vein Mines yesterday," Arthur began, his tone shifting completely to business. "Upper levels were crowded, so my squad descended to the lower, unmapped veins. We encountered an anomaly. The ambient mana was incredibly dense. A Cave Spider Matriarch had mutated. Its exoskeleton was fused with a mineral I couldn’t identify."

Elena’s teasing smile faded slightly. "Mutated F-Rank mobs? That shouldn’t happen unless the dungeon core’s elemental affinity is leaking."

"It wasn’t elemental," Arthur said honestly. "I’ve memorized the academy ore charts. This wasn’t on them."

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small cloth bundle. He placed it onto the glass coffee table directly in front of her.

"I brought back a sample," Arthur said, stepping back. "I need you to tell me what it is."

Elena set her wine glass down. The playful, sultry professor completely vanished, replaced instantly by the high-tier academy mage. She reached out and pulled back the cloth.

Resting inside was a jagged, pitch-black splinter of ore.

The moment the cloth was removed, the ambient mana in the luxurious living room violently warped. A heavy, suffocating, ominous aura bled out from the stone. The nearby mana-lamps on the wall flickered aggressively, their bright yellow light dimming to a sickly, unnatural gray.

Elena’s breath hitched. Her hand froze an inch above the stone.

Even without touching it, she could feel the sheer, concentrated malice radiating off the mineral. It felt like dead earth. It felt like a rotting wound.

"Where did you say you found this?" Elena asked, her voice completely stripped of any teasing. It was tight, laced with genuine disbelief.

"The lowest level of the Iron-Vein Mines," Arthur replied, watching her reaction closely. "What is it?"

Elena slowly pulled her hand back, her dark eyes completely fixed on the black ore.

"It’s corrupted mana," Elena whispered, a cold chill running down her spine. "But not standard elemental decay. This is pure necrotic rot. It’s dense, highly concentrated, and incredibly unstable."

She looked up at Arthur, her eyes wide.

"Arthur, dungeons don’t naturally mutate like this," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "Dungeon cores absorb ambient mana from the earth. For an F-Rank core to produce a mineral this dark and toxic... someone is tampering with it."

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. "Tampering? You mean artificially corrupting the dungeon?"

"Yes," Elena breathed, her mind racing. "Forbidden dark arts. Cult activity. Illegal dungeon smuggling. I don’t know who is doing it, but if a faction is purposely injecting necrotic mana into city dungeons to breed mutated monster parts... it is a massive, highly illegal crime. If the Guild Association finds out, they’ll lock down the entire mining sector."

She finally tore her eyes away from the stone and looked up at Arthur.

"Leave the sample here," Elena ordered, her tone shifting into absolute, professional authority. "I need to run a deep diagnostic on the mana signature to see if I can trace the origin of the rot."

Arthur nodded smoothly. "And the report?"

"I’ll sign off on your standard F-Rank subsidies," Elena said, standing up from the couch. She stepped closer to him, her dark eyes locking onto his with intense seriousness. "But you keep your mouth completely shut about this ore. Don’t mention the mutation to your squad. Don’t tell the other professors. If someone is purposely corrupting dungeons, you do not want them knowing you took a piece of their work."

"Understood, Professor," Arthur said. He turned to leave, grabbing his satchel.

"Good work today," Elena said softly. "You did the right thing bringing it to me."

Arthur gave a curt nod and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the heavy oak door shut behind him.

Elena stood alone in the quiet suite, the heavy, necrotic hum of the black ore vibrating against the glass table behind her. She reached up, slowly brushing a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear, her mind already spinning with the dangerous implications of what her student had just uncovered.