In the end, I had to make a decision. It wasn't like I could politely let my creatures go back to their daily lives while heavily burdened and glowing with the light of their evolution.

For my two luminous constrictors, I had the lovely little detail that they were already a mated pair. It made sense, considering they were both hunting in the same area of directly by the entrance without murdering each other for encroaching on stolen territory, even though they were both rather young for my dungeon; all the better for a shared evolution. I wanted a new generation to expand instead of staying locked at any number of population.

And these were both cantankerous bastards, quick to violence and opportunists enough to jump at the first invaders they'd ever seen in their lives. Not exactly the type that would lean heavily on the side of ambush attackers like the colossal boa. Unfortunate, because I dearly wanted more enormous monsters, but there was a reason my creatures tended to like me after their evolutions. I picked ones that matched.

Same issue for the smoldering serpent, then. Not the type that wanted something ambient to make the final kill. One day, my pretty.

Probably a day closer to whenever I made a fire-themed floor instead of my rather pure water focus. Ah well. I selected crowned cobra for the both.

The spiders were easier to figure out. While the clawed spider matched their previous attack strategy, they had done said attack as a direct response to the attack on their web. Therefore, it made sense to give them an even more impressive web to defend; another reason to choose that over the jeweled jumper. Far more of a prize laid within the shardrunner spiders.

Of the dozens that had made the attack, only a fraction had survived; maybe nine or ten, with a number of those injured, but the invader's mana was plenty even when split across so many. I selected shardrunner for each, guiding them to a little outcropping to evolve underneath. Their talents would be better used on my lower floors, but it'd take too long to get them underneath, and every moment that they were ready to evolve but not actively doing so was a threat. Their mana-stuffed bodies were a summoning cry to every other creature on their own path to evolution.

So I'd keep them—and the constrictors—here until they finished. Safer for everyone. I still grew a stone wall around their glowing bodies to keep the bears out.

I darted back to my other floors, cleaning up the various messes that always seemed to pop up whenever I turned away; more roughwater sharks to repopulate after the sarco decimated their number, more seeding spores to replenish the backs of several lichenridge turtles, prodding an electric eel in the right direction as it tried to swim back out the river entrance. Something lower called my attention.

I swooped down with all the fury of my previous form and slammed another refusal into the thick skulled constrictor who'd apparently joined the horned serpent's army recently enough to have missed my last command. No.

It rather hesitantly turned and slithered away from the mage ratkin it'd been going for.

She, for her part, had already been aware of its presence; her jadestone-green eyes lost their glow as she lowered her little paw. Even with her hunchback and terrible posture, she towered over those she was bringing into the stone jungle, their own little ears lost beneath the billowing moss.

Because she was bringing home other rats.

On my fourth floor, it was still very sparse, mostly the thornwhip algae and the horned serpent's army. But rats a-plenty came from the first and second floor, in search of more mana-filled jewels to call their own.

And it seemed like my beloved little mage ratkin had found them and brought them to where they could find more tasty gems.

Five fellow rats, all nearly two feet long and practically ancient by my dungeon's standards, shuffling nervously as she traipsed forward with all the confidence that magic had. While the tunnels outside were full of danger, this stone jungle was for her.

Excepting all the serpents that wanted nothing more than her death, of course.

But now she led those five rats back to her den, to where she would show them her own magic and teach them how to claim it for themselves. Something I was entirely interested in.

She ducked through the entrance that was just a touch too short for her, padding over the soft moss bed and the trickle of fresh water down one of the walls; the other rats swarmed in, safely huddled from the outside world, and listening intently. As they should.

I would reward their dedication. More jadestone moss, pumping them with extra mana so they would be closer to producing the dead growths that gave way to jewels. Then quartz for pure mana, if they could find any use for them, ruby for fire, aquamarine for water, citrine for lightning, jet for shadow, and even that pale pink opal for healing. All full feast of options for whenever they decided to, ah, expand their diet.

I spread out these jewels, dropping them not immediately inside her den, because that'd be too easy, but close enough that her job would be made much easier. Her mana-sense, though weak and untrained as it was, activated; I saw her stiffen, glancing outside her den. She could feel me creating the jewels.

I got to practically watch her make the connection. I liked that she was teaching these new rats. Her creator approved of her actions. I was rewarding her for her choices.

She redoubled the enthusiasm of her teaching.

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Oh, I couldn't wait to see how this developed.

-

Akkyst rumbled, swinging his great head around to face the jaguar. She churred.

Old arch, he conveyed, using what little of her language he'd picked up over time; she nodded, golden eyes flashing towards the arch in the corner. Over the weeks they'd been here, she was now confident enough to hunt once more, dragging the larger corpses back to the goblins; though she stayed only on the far side of the Magelords' territory. There would be no risk of being recaptured by the War Horde.

But she was helping the Magelords. Not to the point of Akkyst, going on patrols and aiding in the defense, but she helped with food gathering. Already he was seeing her start to open up, from silent and untrusting to occasionally purring and merely mistrustful. Still stuck in this stony prison, she was improving with leaps and bounds. Her gritty grey coat was starting to regain its green tint, her golden eyes sharper than ever before.

So he would go on patrols and find tunnels safe enough for her to hunt in, full of prey small enough for her still-recovering muscles but large enough to challenge her, and totally empty of any goblins. Today he was suggesting a tunnel beyond an old arch in a more ruined section of the city, where he had seen hints of a magma-salamander. Maybe she was up to challenge one of them.

As for his other companion, the bladehawk was still a solitary being, gruff and unwishing of other's company, but he had made one fatal mistake; instead of choosing the high ceiling as a nest, he had chosen the roof of a building slightly more in the active space of the goblins. That had been fine for the first week, when he and the jaguar were too nervous around other goblins and the goblins were still too used to the War Horde's beasts to get close to each other, but it wasn't fine now. The problem was that he preened himself, and his long, metallic feathers fell to the ground, where they would promptly get picked up by goblin youth who were utterly fascinated by said feathers.

So now, instead of living his life quietly flying circles as he worked to regain the muscles lost in captivity, he now found himself hounded by blue-green-skinned little children who wanted nothing more than to examine his feathers in greater detail. The first few days of that had Akkyst running himself ragged trying to keep them apart; for as much as he trusted the bladehawk's loyalty and power, he maybe didn't trust that the avian wouldn't snap eventually and chase the children off his own rather sharp-winged way.

But Akkyst was wrong. The days went by and though the bladehawk certainly wasn't fond of company, he grew to tolerate the children. Occasionally he landed and let them admire him from a distance, spreading his wings and preening old feathers to drop directly at their feet. The access to their new idol didn't reduce their interest in the slightest; they loved him with a vigor that Akkyst honestly hadn't thought possible. Having something capable of flight in a mountain home was an exotic wonder.

The jaguar had actually seemed rather jealous of the attention the bladehawk got. Akkyst didn't have an answer for that.

He shook himself, turning back to the jaguar; she churred again, ears pricking forward. What would he do, while she was out on the hunt?

Akkyst rumbled, staring around the room. Bylk was out on a patrol, the threat of the War Horde great enough he, as their greatest magic user, needed to be out defending the rapidly shrinking edges of their territory. The other goblins he worked with, mainly those who focused on defense, were busy with their own jobs. Maybe he would indulge in a minor pastime of his; studying the old stone Bylk had shown him on his first day in their home. That ancient moss-encrusted circle held secrets, he just knew it. One day he wanted to know what they were.

He was hungry for knowledge, ever since he first knew what knowledge was, and having that ancient stone right in front of him was a temptation from the gods themselves.

Akkyst rolled his massive shoulders. Not the time. Maybe he could help the jaguar with hunting, bring back more for the goblins–

The floor trembled.

Every goblin stiffened, their wide ears perking up as they peered at their surroundings, even the children quieting down to mere whispers. Akkyst rumbled low in his throat, crouching as he instinctively threw his mana over the jaguar; her feather-tipped tail lashed as she disappeared into the shadows, a mere pair of golden eyes.

The sound rose, moaning and creaking with the movement of the mountain. It was coming closer. Goblins huddled together, mages raising grey-flecked hands in some last defense in case of the worst. They all stared at the wall the sound echoed from behind. A moment longer than eternity passed.

But then the sound continued, moving deeper into the mountain, prodded along by some deep, bellowing call that raced through the surrounding rock. Another few minutes and it was gone.

Akkyst clawed at the ground. It was getting closer with each passing patrol, and as powerful as magic was, it wasn't an answer to every problem—and it certainly wasn't an answer for this beast.

A stone-wurm.

The War Horde had found one somewhere, maybe deep in hibernation lower in the mountain, but they'd managed to wake it up and beat it into submission. Now they brought it out on their near-daily hunts, ever-burrowing through the stone to find the home of the Magelords.

He'd seen evidence of it once, out on patrol with Bylk maybe a week ago; great stone furrows carved through the mountain, tunnels rammed furiously until they became wide enough, small creatures flattened to paste against the walls if they couldn't move out of its way in time. A predator the likes of which they'd never seen before. Stone-wurms were fantastically rare for good reason.

One of the lesser strains of dragon, Bylk had explained. Most mythical creature species had those; instead of the "pure" veins, which included their direct descendants as well as themselves. But everything had their offshoots; wurms were those with draconic blood, but trading the magic and intelligence for raw strength. Not to be confused with wyrms, Bylk had added who were often underevolved draconic beings, and promptly delved off onto a side topic that had made Akkyst's head hurt.

But even the comfort of learning new things couldn't stand the harrowing thought that it was getting closer.

Not on a direct path, because that would be cause for immediate evacuation, but however big the mountain was, there were only certain sections safe enough for goblins to live, and that vastly reduced the amount of territory the War Horde had to search. And they were getting close.

As hard as the Magelords had worked to hide their ancient and crumbling home, it was soon to be discovered anew, and Akkyst had a rather terrible suspicion that the enemy goblins would not leave it standing a third time.

He raised his massive head, staring around as the goblins quietly got back to their lives, though more muted than before. His shadow-attuned mana fell off the stalking jaguar and she stood, tail flicking until the feather tip was almost dusting the ground. She certainly didn't like the situation any more than he did.

The stone-wurm hunted, spurred on by whatever whips and pain the War Horde used, and it would soon find them.