Flickering his gaze back to the ‘upper’ floor, Allen would be greeted by a number of Orcs brandishing the rusted swords he had formed a while ago, rudimentary weapons, not even enough to scratch his guardian, but it at least gave them a somewhat safer state of mind. Glancing outside into the wild from the entrance of his dungeon, would he see what had gotten the Orcs in such a panic. 5 Ogres holding crude clubs of wood lumbered about, joined into a simplistic war party by several goblins armed with both bows and daggers, their horrid features giving them an almost permanent twisted smile. Unlike the previous stray, would all 8 members have some form of armor, albeit in the shape of boiled leather and thick furs with rusted metal sticking out like spikes, barely glinstering in the sun of the rolling hills dotted with forests.

He’d merely give a mental snort, watching the smaller uglies try and steer about the big uglies, receiving a glancing blow of the club which was still enough to make the ‘Goblin’ fall on its rear, as it seemed in their ‘culture’, brawn went above brains. Eventually however, after spotting the grouping of Orcs all cluttered about a fancy structure carved into a mountain, would the goblins manage to steer their bigger brethren towards it by pointing, a lot. Like, really, A LOT of pointing and yelping, screaming and other noises Allen couldn’t make out. They basically sounded like ugly monkey’s.

Glancing back at the Orcs, who’s cover was now well and truly blown, would he notice a pair of 3 walking towards his core room, still under the assumption that he had no capability to glance outside of ‘their’ home. Sadly, it did mean he had to stop his spying on the hostiles. Returning his view to the room where his core was located, would he pretend to be busy, which wasn’t all that difficult, as Allen Pasted another ‘Soulsphere MK1’, whose name was still a work in progress… and threw some mana at it while the 3 Orcs stepped into the room.

‘’Friends, hello, anything I can help you with?’’ Allen spoke first, holding a chipper voice, trusting in his non-existent pokerface to hold up the lies within.

Jigi, the ever-watchful, would narrow his eyes with a fraction, unnoticeable if not for the near omnipotent view of the Dungeon core before speaking ‘’Master Allen, we have trouble outside, scouts have spotted a war party of Ogres and Goblins advancing to our dungeon, they have found out our location, we require your help in dealing with them.’’

‘’Alright, I’ll call over Neith from her chamber, I suggest we use the crossroad in the dungeon to set up a 3-pronged attack.’’

‘’A what?’’ the other 2 Orcs would respond in a confused manner.

Jigi, sighing softly, would turn towards Turok and Ozram.

‘’Master Allen is suggesting that we split our forces, one half to guard the entry into his coreroom, the other to guard the entrance towards our living quarters, that way the Spider can charge in from behind, isn’t that right?’’

Allen would give a mental scoff, having planned for Neith to guard his core instead of the Orcs. No matter, He’d have to make sure to create a tunnel connecting the two rooms.

‘’Yes, Jigi, I feel like this would be the best idea. I hope you 3 could be in the entrance to my core however.’’

Turok would give a teeth-showing grin, a fist hitting his chest.

‘’Leave it to us, Master, we’ll make sure nothing happens to your core!’’

‘It’s truly a shame… They’re quite useful, I wish I could at least keep these 3, while Jigi is a bit too perceptive for my taste, he’d make a wonderful companion. Perhaps I need to find a way to increase their connection to me…’

Leaving his internal monologuing aside, the 3 Orcs would have left the chamber already, having traveled under the invisible gaze of their host towards the large grouping of orcs at the entrance, discussions quickly ending as the plan was set in motion.

Allen meanwhile, would begin creating tunnels in between the rooms, using Neith’s metallic-silk as a form of wiring. The steel-like cable was strong enough to lift sizable stones, and braiding it resulted in a even higher tensile strength. Using this, he could cheat the ‘drowning’ feeling of locking off his dungeon, by forming a portcullis, hidden in the roof of the cave, for two entrances, namely the one to the Orc’s chamber, and the one to his core room, controlled from inside Neith’s tunnel-system. He had been pleasantly surprised by being able to cheat the system like this. Since technically… aaaanyone could go into Neith’s home, find the cable, and pull it. Nevermind they’d need the strength of a Wolf-sized mechanical spider, or to find the thing in the first place. It was accessible, and that’s all that was needed. It did mean he could not build one in the entrance of the Spider room. He tried, of course, but it resulted in the drowning feeling returning, something which irked him like few things could.

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If everything went to plan, He’d sacrifice the leftover orcs to hopefully kill the hostiles, leaving Neith as clean-up crew after imprisoning the three leaders.

Then again, no plan survived the first trial, so for the duration of the time, would Allen be free to stew in his own thoughts, coming up with different scenarios.

There was of course also the issue that, if the Soulspheres he had placed in the walls failed, Allen was pretty much dead.

Goblins and Ogre’s didn’t seem like they’d leave such a ‘shiney’ like him behind after combing the place for anything loot-related. That, and if the Orcs won, he’d probably be killed as well for betraying them. The win conditions as of now, were simple: Survive.

Almost was he tempted to give Turok a set of armor, but it couldn’t be justified without revealing his true capabilities. Instead, calling over Jigi, would he summon a pair of large metal shapes, using the excuse of them being previous production stages of the Soulsphere, which after adding a handle and a pair of orcs behind it, could be used as mobile walls against the goblins arrows. Needles to say, Turok lifted one up on his own, and carried it around like some sort of oversized battering ram.

Now, of course Allen could have revealed everything at this point, but something inside him would twist at the opportunity, as if a soft voice would ring in the back of his mind, exclaiming that nobody could be trusted until enough power was gathered.

Normally, he truly detested gambling. But in these circumstances, it was required. Every scenario, every plan resulted in some form of loss. Well, except a few, but what are the chances that the Goblins and Ogres would suddenly kneel and ask to join him? Yeah… not high.

All preparations had been completed and barely in time as Allen’s mana sense would pick up the approaching figures.

And then, the fight begun.

To call it anything but a brawl was a overstatement. Atleast the shields were put to good use. Then again, that could have just been because Goblins, well, Goblins aren’t the best shooters. Allen having even noted one stray arrow impacting into the shoulder of a Ogre, which made it bellow with rage, freezing the Orcs in front as one of them would be smashed into paste by a overhead swing of the club.

While the Goblins were a terrible shot, they were quite agile and together with their daggers, managed to nick a few wounds here and there, the small stature of the creatures, being the size of a pre-teen, helped with dodging as well. Of course, in the defense of the Orcs, these were non-combatants. Turok being the only ‘warrior’ class. These were not able-bodied men, these were the old, the women and the young, their only combat experience coming from hunting whatever animals roamed outside. While the Orcs managed to atleast somewhat hold the line against the Goblins whenever they slipped through, the worst damage was caused by the group of Ogres, which managed to fill the entire entrance, and slowly but surely grinded away at the Orcs defensive line, a Rust-shield breaking upon impact after having been battered for too long, leaving the flank open for the goblins to abuse with their ranged weaponry.

And then, the first Ogre fell.

One of the soulspheres which Allen had embedded into the walls, gave a flicker of light, letting a small line of blue shine through the hall, unnoticed by anyone except the most keen.

Allen left the battle, ordering Neith to activate the Portcullis triggers as the Orcs were trapped between a rock and a hard place.

Whisking away the previously mentioned sphere, would the Dungeon core be pleasantly surprised, as the magic had in fact recognized it as a different item. Later testing, if Allen managed to survive, would have to show if he could paste the blueprint with the hopefully trapped soul of a Ogre. Or, considering these things were in league with the system, whatever counted as a Soul for them.

For now, he copied over the Soulsphere into one of the large golems, watching as lines of mana, much like on his guardian, began forming across its rusting body. It seemed for now, everything was going alright, as the same had happened when he placed a charged one inside. The next step would decide whether his project had been a failure or not.

As the ‘eyes’, which were little more then rough indents in the golems head began glowing a soft blue, it seemed that something had succeeded after all…