Hey, the trip on short notice was also cancelled on short notice. So here is a new chapter. I'm still waiting on my first advanced review, but that is probably not really easy to write with my low chapter count. I'll try to remedy that.

Once again feedback is appreciated and I am very sure I forgot to write something here that I wanted to ask. Oh well. Next time then.

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Another week had gone by and the camp life had fallen into a routine. The outer disciples formed groups of 10-20 members and entered the dungeon at dawn, then they came back out for lunch bringing back whatever they managed to slay. 

In the meanwhile the inner disciples and teachers went to thoroughly map out the area and also cut down wood for the construction and to clear space for the future city.

The elders on the other hand had to keep watch and converse with the former elder Maria to determine wether she was still herself, but those concerns had vanished over time as there was no unusual behavior from her and the elder she had most contact with previously, Torian, assured everyone that she was still the same as always.

In the afternoon the wood they had cut was then processed and used to replace some of the tents so that the camp grew more stable by the day. The many pelts that were gathered in the dungeon were also used to make new tents for the caravan that would be arriving in 3 weeks. Torian had also sent back a disciple with a detailed report of the situation for the on a tamed rank 2 and this messenger should arrive any day now.

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Meanwhile deep under the sect there was a dusty room that held great resemblance with a throne room. A few ancient flickered there as if they would soon die and plunge the whole room in eternal darkness. That would have possible be the better option for any would be visitor as the scene that could be seen there was not something you wanted to look at.

On three thrones made of presumably human bones sat three mummified corpses that emitted a strong miasma that twisted the light in very peculiar ways and corroded their surroundings until they were pitch black and had a deep purple sheen that seemed to surround them.

The corpse in the middle missed the lower half of its torso and wore a crown that strangely still in pristine condition and looked very misplaced on an apparently ancient corpse. All three of them were also clad in expensive garments.

The corpse in the middle wore an expensive robe embroidered with gems and golden threads and held a scepter in its hands. The corpse to the right wore a very expensive dress and held a crystal ball in her lap that swirled with a dark grey fog.

The last corpse on the other hand was dressed in a heavily ornamented armor and had a long sword attached to its hip in a comparatively modest sheath.

In the far back end of the room right across from the thrones was a majestic portal that now slowly opened. A person clad in a black mantle and hood that hid his features entered and walked into the middle of the room. The person then knelt down and spoke with a loud voice.

"Greetings to the venerated ancestors."

Then the corpse in the middle started to open its eyes and eyeballs that seemed to have been directed inwards rolled in position to coldly examine the newcomer.

"Speak." Was transmitted into the newcomers head.

"Venerated ancestors, I have just received a report that we found a type 3 dungeon and formed friendly ties with it in our province. I have a detailed report with me."

The other two corpses likewise opened their eyes and moved their heads to look at the person.

He pulled his hood off and revealed the face of the . The typical grandfatherly smile was nowhere to be seen and he had a very grave expression on his face.

"Bring it over."

He pulled out a jade slip and made his way further into the room. When he reached the pedestal on which the thrones stood he knelt back down and held his open hand with the slip on it before him. The miasma reacted and formed into a hand that grabbed the slip and brought it to the corpse in the middle. After all three of them had examined the report a female voice transmitted to the .

"This is very good opportunity. We can soon enact our revenge with its help. There is no kingdom that can withstand its might once it matures a bit further."

An eery green light shone her eyes, the only indication of her murderous delight.

"No one can know of this. This sect has enforced a magical oath of loyalty so our disciples will not disclose this, but the and the other small sects are a problem. Eradicate every one of them. They either will submit and be assimilated or they die. The can later be traded to the dungeon for additional benefits."

This time the warrior corpse had spoken.

"As you wish ancestor."

Then the corpse with the royal attire spoke again.

"Also take our little dimension out and let it be transported into the dungeon. We are currently of no use here and we need special high grade materials only obtainable in dungeons to regain our vitality. Let a protector take us there since they all know how to access this dimension and they know which materials we require. You may leave now if that was all."

"Of course ancestor. Your wish is my order. A protector will be notified as soon as possible."

With that the turned and exited the dimension.

Once outside he appeared in a cell that was deep in the sects dungeons. He put the hood back on, took out an inconspicuous stone that was the entrance to the dimension and left the cell. He used a few secret passages that had been added by a paranoid before him and soon appeared back in his office, ready to obey the orders of the ancestors and give them out as if they were his own.

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Gormak was getting increasingly worried. His son was expected to be back for a few days now. It had been a week since two hunters of his team came back with various grade 1 Mana plants and beast carcasses they had found in a cave. 

He had just stepped into the stage and had promptly organized a hunting team, hoping Grishnak would follow in his steps and become a great warrior and hunter.

But now that hope had been shattered. He would probably never see his son again. There were no messages sent and normally he never should have taken this long. Hopefully the scouts he had sent would bring back new of what had happened. 

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A loud wailing ripped him out of his musings.

When he stepped outside his hut he saw his wife of 160 years, Karga, crouching on the ground next to corpse. He couldn't see his son's face but there was no question whose corpse that was. He wouldn't cry. That would disgrace his sons memory. His wife and their daughter would cry for him too. With weak knees he forced himself to walk to Karga. His whole body felt tense and stiff, but without strength at the same time.

He desperately wanted to turn away, leave and just pretend that all of this wasn't happening.  With shaky hands he reached for his wife's shoulder. She just turned to him and clung to him desperately. As if she had to make sure he would stay and not leave her too.

When he was finally able to bring himself to look at the body he noticed remnants of dirt and that the head was too far up for it to still be connected to the rest of the body. In this moment he cursed his damnable observation skills that tormented him with so many little details. The obvious claw marks, the scrapes and broken nails. It was getting harder and harder not to cry. but he also couldn't look away. One of his sons ears was also ripped off and the arm on the same side was obviously broken, indicated by the unnatural angle that it was in.

He wrapped his arms around his wife. To others it would seem that he was comforting her, but in truth he needed her just as much to support himself. Then his daughter stepped outside and another loud wail ripped through the silence that had previously only been broken by his wife's sobs.

Stumbling and unsteady his daughter made her way to them. Tears running she stared dazedly at the unmoving body of her brother. They stood like that for a long time with no words spoken. Slowly his grief and sorrow turned into anger and hate. No beats would behead its prey or even bury it afterwards. This stunk of humans.

The two scouts had stood there motionlessly, but in their gazes was an unmistakeable sorrow. The two of them had trained Grishnak when he was little to be a scout. He should have joined them when he reached rank 2, learning from them and making him a more complete warrior and hunter.

"Report!"

"Yes sage Gormak. We found him in a shallow grave in the woods right outside a human camp. Had to wait 'till night so we could dig him out safely. 

The  have apparently built it around the cave. Shzar overheard with his sound affinity that it is apparently something called 'dungeon'. His sound affinity is also probably the reason we are still alive because there are some of their elders and teachers there.

If we want revenge we need the whole to move out and that quickly. They'll get reinforcements soon and then there is nothin' we can do. They have also placed watchtowers on the flat mountain, so we have to move stealthily and attack by night."

A cold hate gripped his thoughts. If he could he would have rallied the troops and went there right away. But now was the time to stay rational to ensure that he would not fail this last mission for his son.

"Let's go to the chief."

When they arrived at the chief's small hut he had gotten his sorrow and his anger just under control.

He knocked loudly.

"Come in." The voice of an elderly could be heard from the inside.

"Recount the events!"

"Yes sage Gormak."

Then Kraggar once again recounted the events. When he was done silence reigned in the cramped room. The chief was never one who cared much about his worldly possessions and had just taken over a small hut after his wife's death.

"You know what this means Gormak?" Was his first question after he had digested the information.

"Yes chief. They know that we know of the dungeon. They will no doubt soon mount an attack to silence us. I will send my wife and daughter further into the mountains to live with the warchief. But I will not let them get away with this. I will take everyone willing and attack them in two days after I have buried my son. That should keep them occupied and will buy time for the rest of you so you can get further into the mountains and start a new village somewhere safer."

"The rest of the sages and me will hold a meeting in a few hours. You should be with your family. We will have everyone willing ready by tomorrow evening. You will be the raid leader."

Satisfied Gormak turned and went to leave. When he had just opened the door he heard the voice of the chief add something.

"I am sorry for your loss."

The next day went by in a blur and when it was time to gather meet the raid troop had arrived he couldn't even tell what had happened. It was as if he was imprisoned in his own little world and only got out when he took a deep breath of fresh air and gazed at the three beautiful moons in the sky.

There were about 1000 , male and female, that had decided to sacrifice themselves for the clan. Most of them were old and would have only been a burden later on and so they had decided that they would go out as warriors. It pained him to see one tenth of his clan join him in death but this was necessary. If they hadn't uncovered that there was a dungeon it was likely that one tenth would have been able to survive, if any at all.

Silently they made their way through the the forest, careful to spread out and not clump together. That reduced the probability of being discovered by the watchtowers as they could dive from one shadow to the other. When it was midnight they finally arrived at the camp.

They took out their arms and downed a that the clans shaman had brewed. Now they had approximately 10 minutes until their minds would forever fade. He took another deep breath and then gave the signal to attack. Soon one of the watchtowers noticed their approach and alarmed the camp, but it was too late. They had arrived at the first tents outside the makeshift palisade. Soon the first brave warriors climbed inside and the first screams of people and dying could be heard.

"TONIGHT WE WILL FEAST IN SHKRAVAZAR!" He yelled, amplified by Shzar. The loyal scout had refused to let him die alone, just like his partner Kraggar.

"TO SHKRAVAZAR!" Was the unanimous response he got.

A smile crept on his face for the first time in days.