“War has been known to boost the strength of a nation’s military. For example, during the Johovian incursion, the average soldier’s level in the Shostran Empire was a measly 10. Most of their training was done through rare dungeon raids, and other monster-oriented combat, but even that was reserved for specialized teams who needed the levels. Everyone else’s [Soldier] Class progression was fueled by performing soldierly activities, such as practicing drills and marching.
So what about after the war? What was the average level then? 30. That is a twenty level difference, all borne from bloody combat. In a war, a soldier who does not die only does so because they can kill. They kill enemy soldiers, they survive, and they level up. Of course, that requires sacrificing many of our own troops to empower the others in the trade-offs that define army-based combat.
Ten level 10 [Soldiers] is worth less than a single level 20 [Soldier], and nine deaths were traded for a level 30.
But enough about war between the Noble Races. What about wars between monsters? Yes, those mindless creatures who live in Dungeons or the wilderness, what about them? Well, since they also gain experience, level up, and overall grow stronger from killing, it can be surmised that they too grow incredibly powerful from war.
Take the Steelmane Lion, for instance. They are quick to capture a territory and scare away any competition. That means no challengers to their power, so their only source of experience comes from prey. And their prey consists of the weakest, most delicate creatures around that offer an absolute pittance of experience points per kill.
But since these monsters are known to be incredibly territorial, what happens if one pride of lions encounters another, or believes that their territory is being infringed upon? They declare war. They fight, they kill, they grow. Before you know it, these incredibly strength-standardized monsters shoot up beyond their expected level 20 equivalent power. In one case, when over a dozen different tribes fought with each other, the most powerful member of their species was an [Alpha Mithril’s Envy Lionhead], a terrible creature that began to take on the appearance of a humanoid golem more than a lion, and required a team of level 50s to take on!
The point I wish to make is that we must be careful of how monsters interact with each other in the wild, for they can grow just like us. Violence and bloodshed can make them exponentially better at it. So perhaps it is best to make sure they remain as peaceful as possible.”
-Abstract of research paper by Olivier Tempestos, Monster Ecologist at the Shostran Royal Academy
----------------------------------------
Click let their arms curl up in relaxation, letting the hydraulics that operated their limbs finally settle down. It was a terrible battle, and despite throwing everything they had at the enemy, the only thing that really saved them was a miracle.
Victory was bittersweet. Bitter in how terribly weak the [Spider Army Commander] felt in that moment, but still flavored with a touch of sweet from the fact that they were all still alive. Honestly, to the spider, that fact alone could make any terrible happenings feel better.
Bored sat on the ground, munching on the corpse of one of the enemy casualties, a [Dungeon Hound] who had run into a whipcord trap at the last minute of its escape. The massive spider was enjoying the meal.
The other spiders were running around, collecting the corpses of the other casualties. Mostly those of the enemy, which were gathered to either be eaten by the veterans or other higher evolved spiders, or collected into a pile to turn into flies to feed the smaller ones.
Spider corpses were minimal, as they were either eaten by the enemy or smashed into paste. The remnants of the latter, the ones in too bad of a state to move, were simply buried underneath the loose topsoil. Whether it was done as an honor or simply to push them out of sight didn’t matter. Just like the destruction that befell the spiders, it simply was.
Click slowly made their way down from their command center to the fortress’ alcove. The feature was originally added as a means to survey the grounds in a more comfortable manner, as well as to be a sort of podium Click could use to address the others. Just like they’d used with the original [Alpha Dungeon Spider]’s corpse. Click liked to use Bored as a podium when on the move nowadays, but only its living body. That point was very clear in the [Spider Army Commander]’s mind.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Three figures immediately swarmed the diminutive leader. Each of their eight legs waved in front of Click, and after seeing what those legs could do, the [Spider Army Commander] immediately activated a Skill.
[Command Subordinates]! Back off with those, do you want to kill me too?!
The trio jumped back in a swift jerk, but then slowly lowered their heads.
Wait, I mean… great job. The veterans and many other spiders would be dead if it weren’t for you three. Thank you.
The spiders slowly looked up again, their eyes seemingly shining in the dim glow of the cave, at least as far as Click could tell.
The sentiment the lead spider tried to express was a new and strange one. They’d felt thankfulness and gratitude before, but mostly towards general luck, enemy stupidity, or boons of the System. This was another being, an ally. Feeling gratitude, let alone expressing it, for another spider felt… weird. But it was easy enough to show through the Skill and helped bring up their spirits. So it was something Click was happy to do. Their happiness would lead them and everyone else to work harder.
So, what was that earlier? What did you three do? Click sent the thought to the others via [Command Subordinates].
In response, the spider received a series of tilted heads and vacuous blinks.
Perfect. Click let out a sigh. But rather than giving up, the lead spider walked to the edge of the alcove and looked down.
Remnants of the shattered vial lay on the ground. Shards of glass lay scattered on the floor with remnants of the blue liquid sticking to its corners. They somehow shined an even deeper, swirling shade of the color when the light of the glowing mushrooms reflected off of them. It was…
Magic.
Click didn’t know the word, or understand exactly what it was, but they still knew exactly what they had seen from the three spiders. The bipedal intruders from before, some of them used strange abilities like these where they threw strange elemental attacks at the other monsters who lived in the dungeon. Whatever was in that vial contained some aspect of that ability, maybe some sort of power source for it? It didn’t matter. What did was that the substance in that vial gave these three spiders the power to use those same abilities. But there was still one more question.
Can you do it again? Click asked the three.
They tried.
The first of the magical spiders sent out a jolt from an extended arm that coalesced into a pittance of a spark. It jumped to the blade that still stood next to them, arced through the metal, and leaped onto Click.
Aaah!
[Damage taken! HP: 55/56]
Wait, that wasn’t so bad! But oh… that’s a bad thing.
One damage was a pittance. A [Shadow Spider]’s literal spit could deal more damage! Albeit that spit was venomous, but they could summon more than a single wad.
The electric spider’s limbs stopped crackling no matter how hard it tried to force the power out. The spider was simply out of juice. It took another second to realize this and sat down.
The second magical spider then sent out a wave of chill towards Click. Or, at least, tried to. A mote of chill went through the air and impacted the lead spider right on the head. They jumped back as they felt the result of the magic spread over their form and screamed.
Aaah-
…
No damage. Why did I even bother screaming?
The spellcasting spider was now also out of power. It tried to summon even a little more cold, but nothing came.
The third spider simply stared at Click, blinking its eyes out of sync with what the [Spider Army Commander] could only call a dumb expression.
So that was all a fluke? I used up that potion for a one-time save?
The first spider lifted its leg again and the scintilla of a spark climbed up its limb. That was it, however.
Maybe it’s like my [Command Subordinate] Skill, then? They just used up all of its fuel, and need to wait for it to come back. It’s certainly still inside them.
Click let out a sigh. And there was the problem; time.
But the [Dungeon Hounds] don’t know about those limitations. Let’s keep it that way.
The [Dungeon Spider Army Commander] walked past the three magical spiders and looked out to the rest of the tribe.
An army of spiders was gathered below, made up of a few hulking veterans combined with the much smaller newborns… the previously smaller newborns. What were previously [Web Spiders] and [Hunter Spiders] were now something different. Something more. They had evolved.