(Curator Pov)
After a series of follow-up inspections, the nearest A.A branch has finally deemed the mines safe enough for non-combatants. Finding my monsters well within acceptable bounds, with no chance of an outbreak occurring if someone takes the fire crystal core.
That being said, it didn’t stop them from constructing a containment area the size of a small village around me! Complete with research tents and enough guards to populate it. Guys, I’m not dangerous, promise. I wasn’t planning on turning this into a dungeon proper, but now it feels like I’ll be letting them down if I don’t.
Dungeons were an anomaly, a mystery that sprouted from the earth, demanding everyone’s attention long before the war. By the time cored dungeons came to be, creating a distinction between old and new, coreless dungeons were just that, old news. A weed with no other purpose but to grow. Tamed and used as a convent resource, people entered and left without a second thought.
An utter failure, suddenly struggling against its chains after years of dormancy. Course, something this odd would be cause for concern. Prize core or not.
I imagine, in a few days, once they deem this place completely harmless, anybody with two thumbs and a sharpened blade is gonna come running.
Knowing all this, it wasn’t a surprise finding out the lead researcher was a witch. I felt the moment she drew close. Bearing the same misshapen soul as Junia. Half witch, half dungeon essence. A thing like that leaves an impact.
The pink-haired girl stood around average height for a young woman, unassuming and missable in a crowd. On the other hand, that unabashedly large comical witch’s cap hugging her noggin commanded attention. Though probably not the type she was hoping for.
Opposed to the overly cutesy nature of her hat, the strawberry witch’s attire and personality screamed business.
Proudly displaying a plain button-up dress shirt under an open duster. Devoid of any frills or flares except for two crimps alongside the buttons for visual distinction. A purple jewel broach attached to a silk ribbon tied around the shirt’s collar, letting it hang around her collar bone.
Little bobbles dangled from her waist along with a thick piece of braided cord attached to a journal she was using to jot down notes.
Everything below the waist was ordinary by comparison. A pair of shorts ending just above the knees and brown sandals fastened around the austere girl’s ankles.
Despite the distinct appearance of a scholar and witch, her attire was road-worn. Duster browned, especially around the fringes, same goes for her sandals.
Another young witch with an old soul... Although older with a sterner temperament, she was just as curious. Betraying that mask of professionalism, her hand flitted from thought to thought accompanied by a decadent grin, never once slowing down. Outrageous ideas were hastily scratched out as new information came to light.
These past few days were dedicated to nothing but research. The witch and her team haven’t even touched the entrance yet! Most of what I’ve been describing has been their observation of the ‘shortcut’ dropping into the dungeon’s heart.
Every aspect was meticulously recorded. Which brought my attention to another thing, her journal.
Made from my dungeon’s paper. Strung and bound between a cover made of plant leather from G’s garden. Studded and inlaid with metals from Smith’s mines.
It was majestic. I would dare say it surpasses the Black Book of Secrets I made. Begrudgingly.
The additional parts did wonders for its capacity, dwarfing even Alice’s tome. But that was if she used it for... Uhmm, let’s call the art Alice uses Lingomancy. Which she didn’t. But I wouldn’t call her out for using it how she was either.
Placing a finger just above the page, the witch gathered mana around her fingertip as she started taking notes.
Like the journal itself, it was a very brute force method. In essence, all she did was pour mana into the pages in high enough concentrations to make it visible. Since we’re in a place chock full of flame-infused mana crystals, the ‘ink’ came out as red.
That's not to say the book was perfect. The thing was like a ball of putty with our three essences squashed together. Sure it’s one piece now, but they’re not mingling. I can see and make out the individual pieces. It should be interwoven, almost seamless to the point it's indistinguishable.
Argh! I want to reach out and start fiddling with it! Honestly, I wasn’t lying when I called it a marvel. But she’s using it as a glorified mana crystal at this point!
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Props to the A.A’s R&D. In a few months, they’ve analyzed and hopefully deemed my materials safe enough to distribute among the public. At least to scholars and researchers. There are quite a few people in the pink witch’s entourage carrying journals. None were as interesting as hers but still...
Instantly, an idea came to mind. G spread his influence through the myriad roots snaking beneath Felschonheit. So what if I did the same with my books? It won’t give me as much control over the area, but it should at the least let me see further.
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Trudging through the next couple of days, hammering out the details. All that’s left is to see if this crackpot idea works. Not like there’s much to mess up anyways, but simple is best. I introduced blank journals into the item pool at home and here as rare drops.
In theory, this should help me spread my influence, acting as signal towers bouncing off each other. And if I’m lucky, boost the literacy rate around these parts.
All part of the long con. With an influx of books, perhaps the everyman would be more inclined to learn how to read and write. Leading to more literate people. Meaning a higher demand for books, further spreading my influence. It’s perfect!
...In about a couple of years. Right now, I have less than a month and five journals in counting, carried by a couple of researchers. Early adopters who were happy with the innovation. Some apprehension was expected even if my paper was deemed safe for distribution.
So, that’s one scheme my mind managed to cook up. Sound enough, right?
But there was another! One that should expand my territory in record time and is at least sixty-percent sane. I say, watching my monsters feed themselves into a gigantic bonfire alongside my journals.
Alright, hear me out. Territory expansion is different between dungeons. Some have it easier like, G. Whose roots naturally lend themselves to such things. Smith. Considering the blacksmith atheistic she has going should be in charge of a mine type dungeon. If she wanted to control more ground, she would just dig outwards.
But how does a food or science-based dungeon like Seth or Head expand their sphere of influence?
I can imagine Head infusing the surrounding mana with his essence. It’s all elements in the end, I think? As for Seth, I would guess it had something to do with smells. Or maybe recipes? Either or. those were methods I didn’t even know where to begin with.
Following the first two examples would take far too long. And Whit knew that when he decided on a time limit of a month. I needed to think outside the box. It didn’t have to be clean or sustainable. It just has to work.
As my monsters carrying journals fed themselves to the pyre, the pseudo-core room’s temperature grew by a factor of ten. Owing to the cavern forming a natural kiln.
Amidst the thick, almost suffocating steam, I felt the fire crystals greedily sucking in the extreme heat. Causing minor quakes in the wake of their accelerated growth. Similar to what Alice and the pink witch do with their books. Pouring mana within a vessel, then using my abilities as a dungeon to gently encourage their growth as I did with the critters here.
It was a great idea with no downsides whatsoever... For about half an hour.
Continuing to expedite the mana crystal’s growth, I forgot that the journal's paper was also made of mana. And seeing how the critters were 'fire' type monsters due to growing in such an environment. Little to say, the fire mana both components expelled was potent, to say the least.
Not enough to make an explosive impact alone, but seeing as I was burning them en mass... The earth shook as the crystals expanded in size exactly how I wanted. Forcibly slithering through the ground, veins of fire crystals crackled, refracted, and split off, displacing a metric ton of earth.
Caught up in the display, I forgot to keep track of the researchers. Who were starting their expedition into the dungeon. They witnessed the whole ordeal and, well. It was a stroke of luck. Evidently, they were safer here than on the surface.
By the end of the earth-shattering quake, the surrounding area was... Uhm. It was still a forest. Just that it was now a forest of red crystalline cliffs.
Seth is gonna kill me. Or Head. Preferably either or. I don’t need both of them on my case.
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(Zhenya Pov)
“Wow, it’s not every day we have a completely nothing-out-of-the-ordinary request run.” A few monster extermination requests. A few milk runs for the everyman scholar too engrossed in their research to pick up their own materials or groceries.
I was ecstatic over the change of pace, Rudi, on the other hand. “Yeah, nothing out of the ordinary...” Was decidedly less enthused.
“Ah! Don’t mald over it. I’m sure we’ll run into some town destroying threat sooner or later. Look at Junia. She knows how to live in the moment, taking life slow while we still can.” Ehhh, she was probably as bored as her apprentice. But Su’s presence did a lot to alleviate that.
We were lounging by the staircase leading up to the Grand Archives, munching on sandwiches. The city-state of Arisfride was ginormous! By far the largest city I’ve been in. Not that I’ve been in any before. It could fit the frontier and dungeon towns within it with room left to spare.
The imposing stone spires and exhaustive repositories were absolutely breathtaking! This really was the city of scholars, for better or for worse.
Knowledge was everything here, and being illiterate earned me a few upturned glares. They weren’t scornful. They just had that look, like they were better than me.
Really regret not taking Fredrica’s studies more seriously. Right now, reckon I can probably read basic words and sentences. Though, I’m not sure if that’s more embarrassing.
‘Hey! I so to can read. Uhm, the little rodo jumped over the moon.’ Nope, that’s definitely more embarrassing.
Aside from that, most of the city’s resources went towards the learning spires and myriad archives that littered the city. Each tackling different wide-reaching subjects. One would be dedicated to any information on the frontiers. Whether that be life, fauna, flora, culture, or legends. And so forth. While the Grand Archive was paradoxically reserved for more day-to-day aspects and forbidden knowledge. Whatever that could be.
Probably dirt on anyone in power or something. That or... Well, whatever.
These places were treated as holy grounds by the scholars that lived here. Painstakingly maintained every day. The hundred thousands of house-sized bookshelves were dusted with loving care.
All else could fall to the wayside for all these people cared. And for folks who weren’t necessarily scholars? The shopkeepers, artisans, the everyday workman, I won’t say they were treated as second-class citizens. But it was clear those with higher education were favored.
“Say, Rudi. Don’t you think that-. What was he again? That archivist gave us a weird look when we told him about the dungeon?” Guy practically froze up. It was hilarious.
“Zhenya, we both know you only said that to piss him off. Of course, he would look at you weirdly.” I admit to being petty, but goddess-dammit! Someone needed to shut the guy up.
There was the causal talking down to that many of the city’s scholars did, then there was this guy. Pretty much treated anyone not in academia like animals.
Prick went on and on about how someone like me should be down on my knees praising them for letting me into one of their vaunted libraries. I wanted to take the asshole down a peg. So I bet that I was more well read then him. And the prick took it hook line and sinker. Smugly declaring there was no book I’ve read that he hasn’t.
His face when I pulled out a copy of Little Red Riding Hood. I could have stopped there, but this guy had been on my case since we locked eyes. Testing my luck, I ended up saying that his precious grand archive couldn’t be that great if it didn’t even have a copy of this book. One so common anyone back at home could get.
Thinking back on it, I expected a prideful guy like that to blow up and kick up a fuss. But all he did was hurry us out. “Anyways, we should get moving. How much longer until we hit Dutchy territory?”
“It won’t be long now, another few days.”
“Great! What are we waiting for? Let’s get out of here already!” If I have to stay another night here. These eggheads are going to be the death of me.