"Why the fuck is that Goblin so big? And gray?" Gordon shouts as he enters the eleventh floor, loud enough for his party to hear him, but not enough that the monsters take note of presence.
'Fucking Amateurs.' After repeatedly warning the leader of the latest party that's come to try their hand at Abi's dungeon, Sophie has almost hit the max tolerance that she is able to endure, and they've only just passed the weakest Goblins.
"Gordon! This is the last time I'm going to explain the layout here as I've already told you three-fucking times." The Warrior subject to Sophie's verbal abuse is now paying her the full attention she deserves as his guide. The ex-dungeon diver is much shorter than Gordon the Warrior, having to look up when she talks to him. Her experiences dealing with monsters and her confidence while inside the dungeon, however, are leagues above his own and Sophie has no problems making sure every word is heard this time.
"The first ten floors of the dungeon are solely occupied by regular, weak Goblins. They're the ones you have just finished killing to reach level 10." She pauses for a moment to give Gordon some time to process the information.
His companions, a female Mage with an affinity for fire, made obvious by her almost-completely red outfit, and a male Rogue dressed in the standard rogue black, don't seem to have a problem with listening.
"This is followed up with ten floors of Hobgoblins. These guys are stronger, faster and slightly more intelligent than the regular Goblin, regardless of what Abi would say." Not meaning to add that last part to her sentence, Sophie glosses over it and carries on.
"You'll stay on these floors until you reach level 20, which is not happening today. You've done well getting this far already, but we've been down for a few hours now and it's time to head back," she informs the group.
"Aw, but Sophie, can't we just try to kill one Hobgoblin before we go? Please?" Gordon is practically vibrating; he's bouncing up and down that fast. The look on his face screams that he needs to fight at least one before he goes.
Their guide let a long, drawn out sigh escape her lip before she nods.
"Fine, but only one. Are you still listening, Gordon?"
"Yes." Gordon jumps even higher and fist bumps the sky. Sophie on the other hand can't tell whether he was answering her or showing his joy at being allowed to attack the Hobgoblin.
His short moment of intelligence had been quickly lost on him however as he quickly turns back to her and asks, "which one is Hobgoblin again?"
Sophie has never wanted to beat another human so badly before as she does Gordon. Fortunately, for everyone's sake, she manages to keep her shit together and just aims stink eyes at the Warrior.
"As it happens, it's the big, gray Goblin over there," she points. "The one you seemed so worried about when we got here." Gordon scowls at his guide. He feels as though Sophie has spoken down to him in front of his group. In a sense he's not wrong, but attention in the dungeon is crucial, especially on the lower levels.
"You can look pissed off, but I'm the one who's actually annoyed here, Gordon. This is the third time I'm having to tell you this shit. Do you want to die here? Eh? Is that it? People die every day inside dungeons! They are dangerous even if you have a guide. I'm telling you now, this dungeon is safer than any other dungeon I've ever set foot in, hell, it's even safer than some of the streets I've been down, but that doesn't mean you can let your guard down. You can't have the attention span of a goldfish and expect to survive down here. Not while... Look, I'll continue to be your guide after today, but there are going to have to be some changes in your party structure." Sophie says half shouting and half ordering with her finger waving up in Gordon's face,wondering if he even caught a third of what she said.
"What do mean changes?" the warrior sheepishly asks, showing that he indeed did catch a third of her rant, even if it was only the last third.
"Leadership, party structure, member count. These are the topics we'll discuss back at the Tavern. However, do you still want to kill a Hobgoblin before we head back?" Without answering and possibly forgetting the crucial conversation from literal seconds ago to no-one's benefit, Gordon and his party dash off to fight the closest Hobgoblin they can. Sophie keeps an eye on them as she debates how that conversation will go when they get back.
Hopefully fast and easy so she can get home to Light and make up for lost time.
Dungeon Stories Volume 3
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The next problem is who am I going to choose to run the Assassin's Guild?
It's not like I'm short on choices. Practically two thirds of my family were created with that class, but the Guild Master should be someone extremely capable.
My mind drifts to Noir, laughing loudly whilst proclaiming something about his weapon and how he's the best.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Nope.
That also rules Carrie out as she's needed to keep him in check. I can't have the boisterous, trouble maker running missions solo. Who knows what would happen.
Realistically, there are only two choices left. The two people that have continued to defy expectations even when I thought it impossible.
I decide to leave the decision until later and teleport over to Talia's. Anya should be arriving soon and Me is already here, a cold glass of juice in his hand. In the corner of my eye, however, Light is standing on a table, mug in hand, doing something daft.
It's not often I see the blue-haired Assassin drunk as he always seems to handle his liquor well. One of the new spirits Talia unlocked must have really done a number on him. Everyone has that one drink that just obliterates your memory.
With that thought, Light slips and lands on the table, crashing through it in the process. Landing hard on the ground, his arm is still raised high, indicating he didn't spill any of his ale.
Nope!
Not a chance.
Bloody idiot.
I'll choose Dropper.
"Hey, Me," I beam, ignoring the antics at the other side of the room. The commotion now being Talia giving Light a well-deserved scolding.
"Hi, Abi." We chat about dungeon management and the Assassin's Guild until Anya arrives, then we get serious. My bestie and I eventually managed to convince Me to try something different. He had sworn off drinking after his last experience, but after explaining that other alcohols taste nothing like Jack's, he was in.
Showing more gratitude than he needs to as he slurs his words, it turns out Me is a fan of the fruity wines. The sweet taste being more to his liking than any ale or spirit.
Fortunately, it lets him partake in the evening's merry atmosphere rather than being the odd one out, being the un-inebriated third wheel.
Unfortunately, the fruity taste of wine is very misleading, and before he knows it, Me's already drunk, performing a repeat of Light from earlier. Only his antics don't go so well and he ends up covered in his own drink, passed out on the floor.
I have no worries about his physical wellbeing as his soul is easily transferable these days. No, the problem I have is that he's soaked in the strongest wine I've ever had the pleasure of smelling in either of my lives.
Anya is laughing so hard that she's holding her stomach, while Talia doesn't seem impressed that two of her tables have been destroyed in one day.
With that a night of drunken foolery commenced. The type that you can never remember until someone calls you out on it later down the line. How nice it is to have a body to experience that feeling again.
After my Assassins' visit to the Lord's city of Ishda, a lot of rebuilding is needed. That was mainly Noir's fault, but as he completed his task and nothing else was said on the matter, I let it slide. It could have gone a lot worse.
Either way, with the recently vacated properties and an abundance of shop-keeping Assassins at my disposal, I've decided to work my way into the city of Ishda and establish myself a base of sorts using Land Acquisition.
Future wise, if everything goes well and a dragon doesn't somehow destroy my home with a quick wash of its breath, I can totally see myself acquiring that much land. Hell, I could potentially own the entire region of Ishda.
Imagine the DP!
I'll never have to work again!
Not that being the Core is work. It's more of a lifestyle and a pretty good one at that too. You even get to spend most of the day with your friends and family.
With thoughts of where to start, I teleport to the eastern edge of my current boundary and begin using Land Acquisition. With each additional plot, more and more small sections of Tironia fall under my domain as I start what is guaranteed to be a large job.
Unlocking sections one after the other, the plan is to create myself a path of sorts straight to Lord Aldor's city. A direct line. As I can teleport freely anywhere in the dungeon, the idea of being able to bounce back and forth between other cities fills me with joy. Not that I dislike what I've built, but I'm no longer trapped or confined to a singular location.
Not only am I able to teleport, but so too are my faithful, shopkeeping family of Assassins. Supply and demand mixed with arduous travelling conditions are the main issues every merchant faces and if they don't have the wares, are waiting on a delivery to arrive, or can't make the journey for whatever reason, then they're losing money. My family won't have that problem after I've connected us to all the other cities in our region. They can port over and pick up what they need at bargain prices from the suppliers themselves.
It's not as though I take part in Varona's administration, or have a say on how our economy works. The Gods know I'd screw it up if I did, but I do know that this means my family and city will benefit exponentially and that's enough to make me happy. Not as happy as finally being able to get out and visit different places brings me, but it's still good.
Depending if things keep going well here, I might even set up a second training dungeon in Ishda. That's something time will tell though and as it stands, I'm nowhere even near the city yet. There are hundreds of miles in between us and Lord Aldor. Even with Land Acquisition, it will take me a while to get there.
However, as I stand in the middle of the forest, the idea of 'how long it will take' is completely lost on me as the sounds of nature fill my ears. Water running in the distance and the sounds of birds chirping in the foliage above sends a peaceful vibe through my body. The bushes shuffle as I push through and the foliage crinkles beneath my feet. The touch of wood on my skin sends shiver down my spine as the sun warmly coats my body.
Being out here alone makes me feel more alive than the body I created for myself ever did.
The realization that I haven't been this far away from the dungeon ever since I was reincarnated hits me like a horse-drawn cart. Even though I'm still technically connected to it, the freedom I feel is unrivalled. Amazing.
Unexplainable.
It's as though I can do anything. Take on anyone.
Hell, at this point I might be able to, but the goal of my second life isn't to go around being a badass.
No.
My purpose, which has slowly grown on me, is to aid the people of Tironia to become the best people they can be. Soul Guide being the driving force behind my motivation and the residents of Varona show the fruits of my labor. Proving that people can change and that my efforts aren't in vain.
A few unfortunate souls had already been sent down the path of reincarnation before I decided to try an alternate method to the skill and System's recommendation. However, people die everyday and seeing how they'll get another chance to try again, there's no point in dwelling on those scumbags or how I could have helped them.
Instead, I'll concentrate on what I can do with the people I already watch over. The ones who are destined for the great question marks of beyond. There's still a good deal of suspicion lingering around inside my mind over where they go, if they go anywhere at all and the System isn't just fucking me. But only time will tell.
I just wish I knew more.