Now.
Close to the waterfall, sat a female figure in a truly sorry state.
Even in her normal condition, Morgana could never truly be called beautiful. Her hair was always too messy, her nose, a little too large, and she had deep shadows beneath the eyes from hours and hours of sleepless study. Besides her pale skin gave an unhealthy glean even before she was wounded.
Now, without the ornaments that usually granted her a certain air of nobility, using tattered clothes, and having lost a lot of blood, she now looked like the ghost of a poor eighteen-year-old woman, destined to haunt this place forever.
That's right, even though this was a five-hundred-year-old dark wizard, she still looked like an eighteen-year-old. At least this much she could brag about.
....
Morgana started to think about the future, making plans. She knew that, at very least from short to medium term, returning to her homeworld was not an option. The mirror, after all, was a one-way ticket.
According to the writings on the archeological site where she uncovered the relic, this was a disposable item for those who made it.
It was common knowledge in the Northumbrian Continent that more advanced civilizations existed in the past, but for some reason they all vanished.
The mirror itself belongs to this immemorial past. As far as Morgana could tell the organization known as the Ianomâmi-Tupi Sect used these artifacts as a material to test its disciples. When a student was deemed ready for his or her initiation, a rite of passage was performed.
They were left alone in one random world somewhere in the multiverse to survive with their own power. If they managed to return, they would be accepted as full-fledged members. If not, they would be excommunicated from the sect. There was no time limit for completion, but after a certain period, it was just assumed the person wouldn't come back.
The inscription ended as follows - "Hardship is the mother of success. Return safely for a hero's welcome. To the winner, the potatoes."
This last part, especially, gave her a very good impression. It seemed this sect put merit above everything else, having a doctrine of cold-hearted pragmatism.
Morgana could truly appreciate this.
...
So, how would she survive in this strange environment? No. She was a powerful wizard. She ought to do more than merely survive.
In her prime Morgana had the power of a queen, lording over an entire organization with many powerful underlings and precious resources at her disposal.
Now, although her position had been irreparably damaged, to the point where she wouldn't be able to enjoy these benefits for the next several decades, even if everything went well, at the very least, this woman still craved for more.
However, it was still too soon for establishing any concrete goal in mind, since she knew very little about this world. But still, just surviving was not enough.
Thinking about this, Morgana checked her mana reserves, the power contained in her very soul. And as she did so, her mood went gloom once more.
To her surprise, the energy had only recovered to the same level as It was before she tried to cast the firebolt spell.
No matter how much time passed she couldn't accumulate any more than this.
"Why is that?" She asked herself while munching down some more mushrooms
Then she remembered the huge fiasco, when the fire spell wasn't working at all and a terrifying hypothesis flashed in her mind.
"No. It can't be." - She said. And her shock roared even louder than the waterfall.
But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense and a drop of cold sweat ran down her spine.
This was an entirely new world. What if magic was different here? What if her knowledge didn't apply in this strange land?
After all, the way wizards cultivated was by learning. The more they knew about the laws of magic, the more power they would be able to keep in their souls.
By this logic, the fact that Morgana could only retain a small portion of mana meant that only the most fundamental principles of magic were also applicable here, in the World of Agatha.
In other words, since her knowledge was minimum, so was her cultivation stage.
Morgana had several setbacks in these last few days, but, without a doubt, this was the harshest of then all.
....
Two days later. In the same cave system
A small bat couldn't keep up with the rest of the group's speed. He was only a few meters behind.
But, for a dedicated predator, this was good enough. The bat was hit by an object moving at great speed and fell to the ground.
A shadow dashed forward, finishing off the wounded prey and moving to its layer.
...
Morgana was quite content with this result. This was her fifth catch.
She had been searching for the exit this past two days, unable to find It. But it was good to know that, at least for the time being, she wouldn't starve to death even as she distanced herself from where the mushrooms grew.
This was the result of her arduous training.
She had used a certain spell to kill the bats, a basic enchantment called Lesser Acceleration.
Its use was very simple, yet effective. The caster could target an already moving object, doubling its original speed. It's was enough to turn even a thrown rock into a reasonable weapon.
In fact, this was quite an achievement for Morgana. A normal acolyte would usually study for two whole months before being able to use a spell-like this.
But she was able to master it in only two days. This was due to both, her natural talent and the knowledge she had from the previous world.
"The laws of magic may be different here, but there are still a lot of similarities. I should be able to accelerate the learning process by quite a lot using the knowledge I already have."
Finally things were starting to look up for Morgana, but unfortunately there were even more challenges waiting ahead.