“YOU KNEW ABOUT THEM THIS WHOLE TIME?!” Maggy yelled as she shook Dr. Maria by the shoulders. If the doctor hadn’t already been a celebrated healer and [Golden Spirit] Cultivator herself, Alpha would have had strong words for the young lady about respecting her elders.
As it was, the old doctor simply laughed, apparently enjoying her young friend’s rather… eccentric display. “Of course, dear. I have been down here for quite a while longer than you have.”
Maggy stopped shaking the woman and stared at her, eyes filled with hurt betrayal. “And you didn’t tell me?!”
Dr. Maria chuckled and patted the young girl’s shoulder. “Now, where would the fun have been in that?” she said. “Besides, would you have entered the dungeon if I had shown them to you? Or would you have spent the next month locked in a hut trying to figure out how they worked?” the doctor asked, gesturing to the small pile of MUD coins on the table.
Maggy looked away, visibly blushing as she muttered something too soft to hear.
Bert, standing nearby, lifted a coin off the table and nimbly rolled it across the back of his fingers. “So these are what you guys found, huh? I’ll admit, I’ve never been one for tablets. Sure, they’re useful, but they burn money like a young master at the brothel. I’d rather rely on what I can do myself.”
Maggy turned and pointed a finger at the large man, “You only say that because you don’t understand what these represent! If we could crack how they work, they could change… everything!” she said.
Robert raised a hand, cutting off what he expected would be a lengthy breakdown of every reason Bert was wrong.
“That’s understandable, Bert, though keep in mind that the tablet market alone makes up nearly 5% of Halirosa’s annual income. They still require some testing, but Magnolia isn’t wrong. A dungeon capable of producing even common tablets would be an unimaginable boon for the city.” Robert raised on the coins, ‘But If these ‘MUD’ are capable of what we suspect, then that alone would make this the find of a lifetime."
Bert raised a brow and whistled, reevaluating the seeming clay coin he held. “That big, uh? I’ll trust your expertise then. That said, the other stuff you brought is more interesting to me.” Bert placed the coin down and picked up a kite shield that was also sitting on the table, along with a collection of other items.
The large shield looked more like a buckler in the giant’s hand. He lifted it, then, with his free hand, flicked the center of the shield.
DOOOONG!
A loud metallic sound echoed through the camp. When Bert turned the shield to the rest of the group, they saw a small dent had formed.
“I put enough Spirit Energy and force in that blow to cave even quality steel. And this thing isn’t even arrayed,” he said before placing the shield back on the table. “What’s more…” he gestured to it. At first, the group had trouble seeing what Bert saw, but those gathered around the table soon gasped. As they watched, the dent in the shield slowly bulged outward, snapping back into place, until the shield returned to its pristine condition.
“I recognize this alloy,” Bert said. “The smith who discovered it claimed it could ‘remember’ its shape in some way I couldn’t understand. The problem was that it was a rather soft alloy prone to deformation under certain forces. He found some rather clever uses, but it was ultimately deemed unsuited for armor or weapons. It seems the dungeon has solved that problem.”
Alpha grinned to himself as he watched the group from a hidden [Wasp], glad someone had recognized the shield’s value. It was one of the items that Alpha was most proud of.
Bert was right: the nickel-titanium alloy, often nicknamed ‘memory metal,’ wasn’t suited for armor or cold weapons. Sure, it had uncountable other uses, even for the Federation, but its military applications were limited without serious processing — which Alpha didn’t have access to… yet.
That was until he discovered his ants.
It turned out the ‘Demon Ants’ incorporated a similar principle behind the metal into their carapaces. Alloying the metal and carapaces — among other things — together using Federation methods created a biometal that was not only absurdly durable but could quickly repair itself when damaged. The resulting metal was even chemically inert to everything but itself, allowing it to ‘cold weld’ in an atmosphere. If something did manage to severely damage the metal, you could literally stick it back together with little loss in its structural stability.
That also made it slightly harder to work with, but Alpha had immediately thought of a thousand uses for the metal.
The armor that his dungeon’s ‘NPCs’ wore was even made of the stuff. This new equipment offered only slightly less defensive ability than the tactical armor Alpha had given to the goblins, though it was significantly heavier and didn’t come with any of the fun stuff built into the goblin’s armor. A personal shield generator covered anything the armor couldn’t handle.
Who knew what else he could make with it in time, though?
Alpha smirked to himself as he watched Robert reevaluating the shield he had so casually dismissed in the dungeon.
The rest of the table was filled with the various items they had collected during their brief delve into the Dragon’s Garden.
A couple of the shield fences the goblins had used against the termites. Typically used to keep wild animals out of your garden, but the Adventurers — and goblins — didn’t need to know that.
A solar-powered, collapsable lantern that got more attention than Alpha was expecting once Antchaser showed how to use it.
A box filled with various medical solutions Dr. Maria had assured Alpha the Adventurers would be interested in.
Even some more traditional arrayed equipment from Alpha’s experiments. While their effects were still minor, the quality that Alpha could produce was leagues above what could be done by hand, and the items would be suitable for Cultivators below [Silver Spirit].
Alpha had tried to vary the rewards as much as he reasonably could. No one liked getting the same thing over and over again. He needed to show the kinds of things he could really offer the Adventurers to flame their greed. At the same time, showing them everything would take away from the wonder and set unrealistic expectations.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Alpha was fully planning on using the Expeditionary force as an eventual’ beta group’ to test how best to balance these rewards. However, that would likely have to wait until after they had dealt with Icefinger’s group.
Examples of the items were passed around the expeditionary team as each of the two dozen or so Adventurers and support staff discussed the finds and what other secrets the dungeon might hold. Robert had no fear of any of the items going missing. Maybe he would have if it was another group, but not this one. Everyone chosen for the expedition were professionals of the highest caliber in one field or another, if not always combat.
While the rest of the team played with the loot, the expeditionary team and village leadership met to discuss their next steps.
——————————————————
Once the dungeon team finished explaining what they had learned, the inside of the command tent had gone deathly silent.
“I see the issue,” Bert said, finally breaking the silence. The large man’s shoulder slumped, and he slicked his hair back. “On one hand, we can’t abandon the dungeon. Even the cavern itself is a treasure trove. The clans have grown a bit too ‘arrogant’ lately with their monopoly of the nearby Deep entrances. This place would go a long way in fortifying the Guild’s position in Halirosa. On the other hand…”
Bert let his words hang in the air as the goblins and Adventurers around the table exchanged looks.
Garrelt tapped the table with an arrow rhythmically; a habit Antchaser had quickly picked up meant the man was thinking the problem through. After a moment, he stabbed the arrow into the table and stood. “Our best bet is to stabilize the dungeon as best as possible. Eliminate the slimes and possessed creatures, patrol the area, and prevent the drake from causing more damage. While we do that, we send for a Guild Executive. They should be enough to capture the drake alo—”
“Absolutely not,” came Robert’s response.
Garrelt paused, frowned, and raised a brow. “And why not? An Executive would be, at minimum, [Soul Fusion]. Even if the Mud Drake has crossed into [Core Condensing], capturing it would be a breeze.”
Robert folded his hands and returned the man’s glare. “And are you willing to take the risk that we can’t keep the dungeon from collapsing before they get here? The Dungeon Core itself said that time is of the essence. How incompetent would we look if we let the dungeon collapse before help could arrive when we can handle the issue ourselves?” he asked.
“At what cost?!” Garrelt asked, opening his arms wide. “I’m all for a good hunt, Robert, and if I was alone with the time, I might try my hand at the drake myself. But we’re not alone, Robert. How many people are we going to throw at that thing to even put it in a position to be captured? How many won’t make it back to enjoy the spoils?”
Robert frowned, then leaned back in his chair. “Everyone in this expedition understood the risks when they joined. Danger is part of what it means to be an Adventurer.” The man’s voice was flat and cold. At the expedition leader’s uncharacteristically callous response, those gathered around the table turned and stared.
Garrelt’s frown deepened, and his eyes narrowed. The scout leader took a deep and pointed at Robert. Before he could say whatever he was preparing to, however, Bert stood, a hand outstretched to both.
“Hold on now, both of you,” he said, glancing between the two glaring men. “You both have valid points. Robert isn’t wrong that we’re on a time crunch here. We’re walking a thin line between the dungeon break, the termites, and who knows what else is out there.” Bert locked eyes with Garrelt while Robert smirked. “At the same time,” Bert continued — Robert’s smirk fell, and his eyes snapped to Bert — “While it’s true that we all understood the risks as Adventurers, Garrelt isn’t wrong. This isn’t exactly what we signed up for. And we must remind ourselves not to be blinded by greed, lest we fall off our tightrope to disaster in our rush.”
As the others around the table whispered and muttered to each other, Garrelt and Robert continued to glare at each other. Dr. Maria stood nearby, nodding her head at the large man’s word.
While the others discussed the problem, Antchaser, Boarslayer, the doctor, and Alpha were having their own discussion over their comms.
“What’s the chance of them actually capturing the thing without casualties?” Boarslayer asked. “I get why we’re doing this, but it doesn’t feel right if people are going to die needlessly.” After all, it wasn’t as if the Dragon’s Garden was in danger of collapse. All of this was just smoke and mirrors.
“Hard to say… it’s gotten bigger — and stronger — since the last time I saw it,” came Antchaser’s response. “Between Robert and Bert, they might be able to keep the beast focused enough to keep everyone safe. But the drake is used to group tactics after dealing with the ants for so long. It’s a risk.”
Boarslayer grumbled. “I don’t like it, but should we do what Garrelt suggested and let them call in a Guild Executive? That would also make dealing with Icefinger’s lot a certainty, right? Do we know when they’ll arrive yet?”
“No,” Alpha said. “My eyes outside of the region are limited, and I’ve not yet been able to locate them. I suspect they’re cloaking their movements somehow. However, all the data I do have points to them arriving in the next five to six days.”
“Regardless, I don’t think calling a Guild Executive would be for the best,” Dr. Maria interjected.
“Oh? Why so?” Alpha asked.
Dr. Maria frowned. “A few reasons. First off, the timing. It could take anywhere from two days to a couple of weeks for an executive to arrive, depending on if there are any holdups. Relying on them to solve our little bandit issue is inefficient.”
She then turned and stared at the hidden [Wasps] drone spying on the meeting. Alpha had yet to figure out how exactly the woman could spot them so easily.
“There’s also the issue of leverage. It’s one thing if the expeditionary force works together with the village to beat back the problems of the drake and the bandits. It’s another thing entirely if a Guild Executive arrives to ‘rescue’ us all with a wave of their hand… assuming Icefinger’s men don’t go into hiding as soon as they learn an Executive is here.” Dr. Maria frowned. That was a distinct possibility.
“That gives the village — and dungeon — far less bargaining power, even by Deep law. In the worst-case scenario, the Guild moves in and takes over with the excuse of ‘stability and protection’ or some other nonsense. If the village wants any say in what happens here in the future, they need to establish themselves as a power capable of, at the very least, being of use.”
Boarslayer and Antchaser exchanged a dark look. The doctor had a point. As they were now, the expeditionary force was treating the goblin village as allies. And as long as they proved themselves competent, the other Deep Tribes would rally to their defense if someone exponentially more powerful than them tried to bully their way into control. That was how the otherwise independent and isolated Deep Tribes had defended themselves from the surface races for millennia. Had there been a larger village nearby, Bosco’s group would have never done half of what they had.
But if the village invited that power in? Well, then, that was an entirely different matter.
Boarslayer folded her arms. “Then that just brings us right back to where we started. Where do we go from here?”
To everyone’s surprise, the answer to that question came from an unexpected source.
“You guys are overcomplicating this,” said Maggy, who, until that point, had remained quiet during the meeting. After all, she was a scholar, not a fighter. She could defend herself well enough, but the other around the table had far more experience dealing with powerful beasts, be they the veteran adventurers or the goblin Hunters.
The discussion around the table paused, and all eyes turned to the young woman, who blushed red. She coughed in her hand and collected herself before continuing. “What I mean is, you’re thinking too much like Cultivators. Not every problem needs to be beaten over the head with the biggest stick you can find.”
Garrelt raised a brow and smirked. “Well then, Ms. Mage, how do you propose we fight the dragon-blooded spirit beast, which, I remind you, is likely a greater realm stronger than anyone here?”
Maggy turned to the man and glared. “The Dungeon Core already told us himself. He doesn’t want us to fight anything…”
Maggy’s words trailed off into silence. After a moment, Dr. Maria burst into laughter and grinned at the young woman beside her, causing Maggy to blush even further.
Bert, too, grinned, then reached under the table and pulled out a rolled map. In one motion, he unfurled it and laid it across the table for them all to see.
The lass was right. They had gotten so tied up on the drake’s power that they had all forgotten one important detail.
Their job was never to fight the drake in the first place.
It was to capture it.