Alexander frowned, unsure of what the director meant.
"Do you know how the Adventurer's Guild works?" asked Gardner.
Alexander shook his head.
"We keep most information private. We're a government-backed company, and we oversee everything Dungeon-related. This means, unless I feel like it, you can't become a Dungeon Runner."
"I've passed every single one of your tests. Why would you fail me?" asked Alexander, upset.
"Yeah… I do see it here," replied Gardner, picking up a folder before him.
"You passed every test easily. Even the written one, apparently… Red and black unpure mana…"
"I have no mana issues," quickly replied Alexander.
Gardner threw the folder back on the desk, taking a deep breath.
"Yes, yes," he said in a sigh, while rolling his eyes. "Unpure mana sounds bad, but it's quite the opposite. Of course, you wouldn't know…"
"What do you mean?" asked Alexander.
Gardner got up, going to the shelves behind him to grab a clear glass bottle containing what must've been whisky.
He poured himself a glass, took a small sip with a sigh of relief, then returned to his seat.
"I'll indulge your questions, as nobody else will answer them anyways," he said, taking another sip.
Alexander frowned, but decided not to push the man's buttons.
Gardner finally continued with his explanation.
"We don't know how it exactly works, but we understand most of it. Our classes are associated to beings which we think are sort of gods. These god-like beings bless us with an archetype and a class, which is a fragment of their own selves."
Alexander nodded, following along, while Fae stood silent behind him.
"Pure mana is the essence of your specific class. Think of it as energy specifically woven for you. It grows with you, sure, but you cannot use it for other purposes, unless you somehow transform it."
"So, unpure mana means I have a lesser amount to draw from," replied Alexander, already feeling at a disadvantage.
"On the contrary… Despite its name, it's quite the blessing."
"How?"
"Pure mana means you've only been given what you need. Unpure means the god-like being who bestowed a class upon you mixed some of its own as well."
Alexander's eyebrows raised at once, as he glanced back at Fae whose passive expression seemed to be completely unbothered by the conversation.
"We've collected quite a bit of data, on the subject. The more a specific god-like being gives away archetypes and classes, the less likely they are to weave-in their own mana."
"So, if there's a lot of sun knights, most of them will only get pure mana, while some lucky ones get a bit more."
"Yes. You won't find it surprising if I were to tell you there isn't many cultists around…" said Gardner, taking another sip.
Alexander recalled how the crystal looked, as he held it.
So, impure is… good.
Seeing his reaction, Gardner sighed once more.
"Don't flatter yourself too much. You might be in the top 1% when it comes to mana impurity, but it comes with its downsides."
"What sort of downsides?" asked Alexander.
Gardner suddenly struck his desk. His gaze went down, as if he recalled a distant memory.
"We aren't gods, Veil! We're not meant to have that mana channel through us. We're humans, toyed with by superior beings who play with us like puppets!"
The sudden outburst surprised him, but it was clear he wasn't the cause of it.
"Pure mana is safe, and won't cause any problems. Impure mana isn't a blessing, just a bomb waiting to explode. Half your mana being impure just makes us want to get rid of you as soon as possible…"
Alexander frowned, he could feel Fae's cold gaze behind him.
"Yeah, eye me down all you want. You're already dangerous as it is, and now we know you'll grow even more dangerous."
"What's so dangerous about cultists?! You've attacked me on sight ever since I awakened my archetype."
"Do you think every god-like being bestowing classes upon us are one of the good ones?"
Gardner got up and walked back to the shelf, grabbing the whole bottle this time and bringing it back to his seat.
He poured himself another full glass, before continuing.
"Some of them are good, some are bad. It doesn't matter, how we use our powers is what does. Cultists…"
His train of thought slightly derailed, before going back on track.
"Cultists are a plague. Those 'elder gods' you serve are like a virus. Once you plant them in someone's mind, it's almost impossible to get them out. The more infected there is, the worst they become. They don't care about good or bad, it's all chaos. You multiply, you infect. You're a disease that shouldn't be allowed to walk around freely."
"I didn't infect anyone"
"Oh, but you did. Multiple times. Those dungeon runners, the moment you came back. Didn't Sunder tell you to not use your powers against other humans? And then, you used them on Jake."
"They attacked me—"
"—And now one of them is dead."
"I didn't kill anyone," replied Alexander, dry.
"No, we did. We had to."
Alexander shook his head, his gaze going toward Fae, then back to Gardner.
"You're a virus, Veil. Your spells infect the mind—your own mind battling the infection as we speak. Don't you feel the burn of Sunder's rune on your chest? It is the only thing that allowed you to remain sane."
"Why didn't he save those dungeon runners…"
"Who do you think made the call to end it?" asked Gardner.
Alexander grabbed his forehead, his eyes staring in the distance.
Those feelings, as if his mind was being pulled apart. The rune on his chest, ablaze as it pulled the fragments of his mind together, holding onto them.
The moment he entered the portal to his inner path he felt it, the presence lurking in the background.
Something that had its tendrils over him, yet he simply couldn't see it.
Even with the mark burning through his skin, he felt it slightly.
That thing, watching.
The pull.