Uno
I gleefully accepted and another notification appeared while Black Knight was bathed in magic energy.
Congratulations!
Named monster Jailer Jonathan has been bound to your Dungeon! It will now reappear after death and continue to serve you as long as there is enough mana to sustain him!
Congratulations!
Due to inherent compatibility, Jailer Jonathan has been made a Roaming Boss of these rooms:
* Kitchen
* Food Hall
* Sparring Room
While I was reading through my blue boxes Jailer simply sat down and chewed on rock food. I guess years of hunger destroyed whatever semblance of taste he had before. It looked like food, therefore it was food. And since it wasn’t tasting worse than undead it was somehow acceptable.
My first real boss finished his meal and started wandering between rooms as Drones repaired the damage. I also added a bit of my magic to the location, gleaming bits and pieces from the bounding spell.
This was used to make sure that my rock food and assorted items in the kitchen would soon appear again. After I remake them of course… Haaaaaaah.
Still - I felt a bit of kinship towards this strange monster.
The system seemed to be very keen on criticizing him, but there were inconsistencies in what Analyze relayed to me. He was a non-combatant, a jailer. Why he had to lay down his life for others to live? On what grounds? Was that an order? So that “more important people” than him would be saved? This single thing was especially gnawing at my intuition. Some of the soldiers escaped and there was, after all, a mention of a betrayal. It seemed much more complicated than Analyze painted it as.
I doubted that it was all Jonathan's fault. Strong as he was it was only when compared to my forces. In the grand scheme of things, this amount of power was nothing, because he was only a D-ranked threat. According to my gaming knowledge, there would be at least S-rank beings living in this world. If not SS or SSS. Or even SSS+ and higher. My head just hurts thinking about it.
If I could only speak to it… but there is not much left in that brain of his. I have some ideas on how to change that, but it would mean preparing another room, special machines, and of course a large amount of mana. Somehow I just knew that it was above my current capacity.
Somehow I just knew that I needed to raise my Dungeon core level. And, again according to my gaming knowledge, I can do it through killing enemies. Yet I can’t really get much of this essence (let’s call it experience, like before) through re-killing the dead. Juicy alive beings are needed here - or especially powerful undead beings.
That’s why for now I’ll just gather any forces that I can, so nobody can penetrate my defenses. I don’t trust people. Generally. And I don’t trust people who nuked their planet twice especially. That’s for sure. This kind of deed needs a special kind of stupid to commit after all.
Back to the topic at hand.
Jonathan's story - if I read it correctly - seems like that of a poor soul trapped by circumstances and then forced to live his last days in a collapsed dungeon of this accursed castle. Which afterward resulted in undeath and compulsion to roam these halls for all eternity. Not fair at all. Seems like this world is just like that.
And that’s why we’re getting stronger!
The electropears that Ratling Queen used gave me a bit of inspiration.
I could get a new weapon made - right now!
On Earth, they were called electrified security batons. Here I was just going to use the name Crackling Mace.
How did one create such a thing you may ask? Easily - first create a pole made from hardwood. It's important as wood has low conductivity and will shield the user. After that get one (1) electropear and stick it on the chosen end of the shaft. Then one needs to create a nearly filled metal ball, with just enough space left for the fruit… and then glue it all together while using copious amounts of mana duct tape!
And done!
To tell the truth, this last part was quite draining - I can only make a few of them before my gas tank bottoms out. So, for now, they’re a weapon for Lebir team leaders (tentative name). They’re not any different from their compatriots but were designated by me as ones leading a few other Abominations around. I hope that in time they will evolve into something more impressive. Right now they’re just guys with bigger sticks. No leadership qualities whatsoever.
Crackling Maces were easy to use - in addition, to simply smacking enemies (which is no different from earlier designed metal clubs) it also electrocutes anyone stupid enough to get hit. Additionally - I guess inspired by me in turn - Ratlings have already prepared bundles of electropears to throw at enemies, making these first grenades in my dungeon.
At least the cotton cloth and wood are now getting used - both by Ratlings and my production activities. They were just kinda… there before.
I made a few more pieces of cloth in order to give Ratling craftsmen something to experiment with. Still, I didn’t exactly know how they did what they did. Not that it mattered - I had more pressing matters at hand.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Mostly the new room that my ingenious Ratlings discovered. One that gave me a really bad vibe. It was the largest of them all, with a slightly round structure. There was a lot of sand on its floor and seeing it through my minion eyes only one word came to my mind.
Colosseum.
***
Private Kurt the Silent, part of Waltzer Castle scouting mission
Shit! I knew that something was up with this assignment! The young ranger thought to himself while slowly moving from one obstacle to another, trying to get the most juice from his abilities and inborn dexterity. His lanky frame shifted easily from one broken tree to another, pretty much melding with the surroundings. Brown mantle hid both his face and body, while leather armor and boots worked as a defense. A sleek bow was his main weapon, not counting a dagger stowed on a slightly worn belt.
He and four other men were chosen to check this concrete location. For what? No one knew. Discrepancies - whatever that meant. There were many teams like theirs dispatched along the border. Their guess was this was somehow connected to a popular rumor about a new dungeon being born. Out there. In the badlands.
Just please, please, oh Goddess, please - no undead! He pleaded to one of the three Guardian Gods of Yana. Territories abandoned during the second magical war were wild nurseries teeming with decay, daily producing rotten beasts, weird mutations, and other horrors. Yet it was the dead that were the worst counter to his abilities and his most pronounced fear. After all, they could simply sense lifeforce and no ranger abilities - even his 5th level ones - were able to stop it. The situation would change if he were at a higher level, but alas he wasn’t yet.
Behind the ranger trailed the rest of their team, warrior-heavy, like all parties hailing from the Geinard Kingdom. Ranger, three warriors, and a paladin which doubled as a healer. And worst of all there was their leader in the name - Sergeant Glum! A large, stocky man with a coarse beard, two-handed warhammer, and freaking plate armor. It was only a chest plate, but still!
Who takes a damn plate armor on a scouting mission! Scolded Kurt in his thoughts. He was much too cowardly to speak up after all. And Glum was a 7th-level berserker warrior, which made him a force to be reckoned with. Nobles and their favors… If only a relevant class was sent out here, like a druid or maybe a higher-level scout. Nope, we send warriors. On. A. Scouting. Mission! How far up their asses do higher-ups have their heads?!
Kurt would have preferred nothing more than to finish his mission and return home. Back to capital. These were idle thoughts of course. He still had a tour of duty to complete - five more years to be exact, and his position was not one of leadership, so they continued their search.
As far as he was concerned they already checked enough. Dungeons tended to be created (or seeded, as priests liked to call it) in some underground locations, like castle dungeons, caves, abandoned fortresses, and even house basements. Additionally, they frantically tried to dig toward the surface - it was like an instinct they couldn't resist. So, as far as he was concerned, since there were no traces of an entrance nearby it was clear that the rumored dungeon wasn’t out here.
And that was good information too, as Waltzer Castle was one of the locations which were mostly infested by undead.
I don’t even want to think about how much we would have to invest in order to make these lands habitable again. Every living being out here was corrupted by mana, and many of the un-living too. What was worse these twisted beings were naturally drawn to things that were yet “pure”. And sentients sadly were one of them. So were dungeon cores.
But the absence of undead (who were clearly drawn somewhere) meant that the scouting team could do its job and leave.
Or at least we would if our leader wasn’t such a prick.
"Did you find anything, Limpy?" Asked said prick.
"Nope, nothing right now boss. I think this site is a bust." Ranger answered truthfully.
"Hmmm… I see. This means that the official part of our mission is complete." Kurt held his breath. Here it comes. Greed. "So we’re going to go on the little treasure-hunting expedition of our own." The last time Glum said something like that they retreated after losing a soldier. And she was a good one. So Kurt did the only thing he could. He protested aloud.
"That’s a bad idea, sir! The undead aren’t here, but the only thing that could keep them occupied for so long are other sentients. And as soon as they finish them off it will be our turn!"
"Stow it, elf-lover! So what? If the trouble comes we will just run!" Glum simply pushed the weak ranger back and continued moving towards the ruins. After a moment the rest of the warriors followed, shooting him apologetic glances in the process. They at least understood that there was a problem with their leader's thought process.
Their group moved forward in a stretched line, searching for treasures among the rubble. The once proud castle was now reduced to nothing, but dust. And yet there could be some coins amongst them, weapons, and sometimes even an artifact! One only had to search deep and long enough.
Soon their team scoured nearly one-fourth of the available ground. And it was also the time when Kurt started noticing that something was wrong. There were a lot of tracks on the ground. The ones making them were undoubtedly undead. Yet every single one gravitated towards one direction. It was like something with a great amount of pure mana was forcing them to go there.
Something like… a dungeon core.
Oh shit. If that’s what going on here, then we need reinforcements now. Who knows how powerful these undead can get after gorging on all that energy. He gulped loudly and stopped walking for a moment.
Only to hear quiet, but regular noise.
*thump*
*thump*
*thump*
*thump*
Sound of many feet walking in unison.
Damn it! Is it an invasion from the Luna Kingdom? No, they use light troops… Maybe it’s Dross or Holders? Goddess! Then a *twang* of bowstring resounded and Kurt had only a second to react.
Which he wasted.
An arrow hit him in the stomach forcing the ranger to fall on the ground in an instant.
The rest of his team reacted immediately, drawing their weapons and hiding behind shields. Nobody even thought about saving the young ranger as enemies drew near - skeletons, zombies, and better-conserved abominations with their own weapons and armor at the ready.
Then a lone figure stepped forward, its skull gleaming in the sun. Humans drew their breaths, hoping against hope. Silently the undead drew his sword and pointed towards the scouting team. They braced themselves. There was no chance to escape nor get reinforcements - not now, as the fleetest of them was squirming on the ground, slowly bleeding out.
Sword drew an arc and the dead army marched forward. Defiant screams of warriors sounded out. And again. After that only silence reigned.
And five figures joined their ranks, bodies bloodied and eyes empty.
***
Across the border, many other scouting teams were being slaughtered.
In the control center, a surprisingly modern map was stretched out and officers were coming and going, adding and removing figures from the board. A wooden token representing Kurt's team was simply taken back, their designation given to another unit.
And yet the kings didn’t care one bit about their pawns.