Alex decided his next project will be around insects. Hive insects were important to keep as they are the key behind structures like spike traps. Hive insects can create hives in the shape of spikes, eat the bodies that fall in, and use the calcium and minerals from the bones to build and repair the spikes.

He wasn’t sure if he should make these insects parasites or predators. Fundamentally, these species should also provide something of value to adventures and the dungeon. Their main purpose would be to hold back the blood rot and rotten rats from becoming a problem. While doing so, they need to create a treasure or resource.

That’s a future project to do when he has the finances. He should just be grateful for what he managed to accomplish. His rats and insects needed to eat as much of the untainted meat he had in store. If worse comes to worst and his unmutated rats died, it wasn’t catastrophic. While it would be hard to do, he could just modify rotten rats.

…

Hasil was woken up by the sounds outside his hut. He first thought there was an attack, but the sounds came from people. Very excited people. He got up and opened the door to see a man gasping at his footsteps.

He quickly scanned for injuries but found none, other than severe fatigue.

“Elder…ha…ha, letter from…ha…Millpond…ha…”

Hasil ripped the letter out of the man’s hands and clawed it open. He scanned it and felt a slight tear leaving his eyes. Millpond was responding to their distress and was sending supplies and adventurers to explore and investigate the dungeon. They were finally getting help.

The dates were a bit hard to understand, the village was far too backwater to keep track of the kingdom’s calendar. He worked hard to decode it. A few days, they only needed to hold out a few days until help came.

That was easier said than done though. None of the caches of food were recovered and brought back yet. All possible herbs and vegetables they could find were already picked. The food they got back from trading was slim.

He felt the draw of the dungeon in his heart, aware of its influence for the first time. It was a dangerous song, one that tempted him despite his age and wisdom. He was correct in wanting to live as far away from the dungeon as possible. Once a person enters that dungeon, they never truly leave.

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Yolston looked over the map, his fingers brushing his chin as he thought. The mansion he stayed in was far too small for his liking, but like rabbits and vermin the small space created a sense of safety and security. Childish thoughts filled his head - he didn’t want to be near people in case his ideas and plans leaked out.

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He had received word from one of the edge villages, so called because they were built on the border of the kingdom and the ancient forests. Normally, he wouldn’t bother dealing with such a village when the last time a tax collector visited was decades ago. Most that tried to venture there were eaten by the wild animals or went missing. He had his own ideas of what happened to them.

That all changed when the word ‘dungeon’ was said. Such words held little meaning except to fools and scammers, but it caught his attention and he listened. A mysterious cave suddenly appeared; people that explored it died, were attacked, or went insane; and strange creatures with paralyzing venom attacked. There was more, like tunnels growing like tree branches, but all of it sounded fabricated.

What wasn’t fabricated was the fear and desperation in the eyes of the villagers. He wanted to dismiss it, but a dungeon wasn’t something to dismiss. He smelled an opportunity in all of this, though he also felt a certain degree of danger.

He desperately wanted to keep this a secret, however, that would be a good way to lose his head. He was already in a rough situation with the main family, one of the main reasons he was exiled to this backwater town. It pained him, but sacrifices needed to be made to win the game.

First, he needed to confirm if this was a dungeon or not. After that, he needed to find a way to monopolize the dungeon without owning it. At the same time, he couldn’t take too much power away from the main family. The rest can be thought out after he receives confirmation.

There were adventurers in this small backwater town, as well as all other towns and true cities. The old canals here had monster problems - it wasn’t a prestigious life, nor did it pay well for adventurers and mercenaries. There were many hungry rats in this small town.

He smiled to himself. He got off his ass and called for his steward. He arranged for a meeting with the local adventurer’s guild master and prepared himself for it. He was poor for a nobleman, there was little to earn here and much of the taxes gained were sent off for the dukedom capital. Like him, there were many ambitionists that wanted to lose their poverty and powerlessness. A dungeon benefited others just as much as him.

The meeting was scheduled later that day, and while he set it up he needed to keep the greasy guild master in check. The old man, a once mighty warrior reduced by age and alcohol into a rotting corpse with surprising strength left. It was like a bear had withered into a rat.

The irritable old man kept demanding to know why he had been summoned, but Yolston ignored him and pretended to work. The old man threatened to leave, but Yolston ignored his bluff. He had never abused his power for something as short-sighted as a prank or for amusement. Though he never had the chance to abuse power without much consequences.

Finally, the old man mustered some degree of patience and waited silently. After a little bit of waiting, Yolston turned around and asked a simple question.

“Guild master, tell me, are there any men under your command that have experience with dungeons?”