The mining operation had been going smoothly. By now, Zelhaut had a shit ton of diamonds. But it seemed that today the smooth sailing was over.

It started with one of his golems suddenly dying in the pit. The constant connection to his golem went silent. Zelhaut just shrugged his shoulders. Sometimes one of the golems fell in, it was no big deal. But then, the other three golems died soon after the first.

Zelhaut awoke from his sleep, rushing over to the pit.

He heard a crash echo out of the pit. The thick rope that disappeared into the depths went slack for the first time in months.

“Shit! Something cut the line!”

All the golems out patrolling rushed back, surrounding the hole, ready for whatever might jump out.

It was the middle of the night, the golden desert sands were dyed blue by the large moon that looked especially large this night.

“Hey Krindle, look at the moon. Doesn't it look like it is about to crush us? I mean, it's so fucking close and just… Big.”

Krindle responded without looking away from the hole.

“Yes. It does look nice, now please focus.”

“How did you know I thought it looked nice when it looks about to crush us all?”

This time Krindle looked at Zelhaut, somehow conveying exasperation through his metal face.

“Because it would kill everyone on this planet.”

“Hehe. You know me so well. Anyways, YOLO!”

Zelhaut ran, then jumped into the pit, grabbing the rope. He began to slide his way down while the other golems above followed by example and jumped on the rope as well.

As he slid down, he marveled at the walls of the pit. What was once a glitter factory waste disposal pit displayed none of its former splendor. The walls were bare stone pockmarked with holes where the precious gems used to be held secure.

These sights just made him chuckle at how rich he was right now.

Zelhaut slid down, and down, and down. It was really a marvel how deep this pit was. Soon enough, his ears popped from the pressure change of going so deep. The air was strangely not stale, as he expected it to be. In fact, the deeper he went, the more moisture he could feel.

Soon, a soft white glow could be seen emanating from below. Zelhaut reached the end of the rope. He looked down at the now pretty well-lit area and could see no sign of any monster. He could also finally see the bottom of the pit.

Letting go of the rope, Zelhaut dropped ten meters and then hit the ground with a thud.

“Fantasy world, oh, fantasy world, how awesome can you be~. Like my singing?”

Krindle dropped down silently next to him, his spiked tail raised and his sharp fingers growing longer as he spoke.

“Let’s focus.”

“Alright.”

All of his other golems also dropped down, not nearly as graceful as Krindle, but what can you do.

Zelhaut looked at the surroundings. His three wooden golems were utterly shredded. They looked like wooden dolls that had been put in a wood chipper and then pulled out halfway through. He also noted the green blood that was splashed on the ground. This crime scene was all illuminated by glowing diamonds, for some reason.

“Hmm. At least they got a few good hits in before they died.”

Zelhaut looked around at the wall and saw a tunnel occupying one side.

“I guess we should follow the tunnel.”

The group walked into the tunnel, but once Krindle crossed the threshold, the tunnel began to shake.

“Back up!”

Krindle quickly backed away from the threshold.

“Commander, it's a dungeon.”

“I was thinking the exact same thing. Hehe.”

Zelhaut rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

“What is its nature?”

“It’s young. I also don't think anyone has ever been in there before, smells too fresh for that. Its nature is currently neutral, it has yet to decide.”

“Neutral? It’s never killed anything living? Wow. Looks like I’ll have to be pretty convincing.”

Zelhaut rubbed his chin in thought.

“Krindle, guard the entrance. Also, give me a boost back up to the rope. I have a plan. Raldo, stay out of the dungeon, Krindle is in charge.”

Krindle nodded his head and then leaned down to one knee and put his two hands in front of him. Zelhaut stepped onto Krindle’s hands and jumped at the same time as Krindle flung him upwards.

Zelhaut grabbed the end of the rope and began to climb his way all the way back up.

{No.}

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

{I can just jump if I want to sail through the air.}

Zelhuat crested the edge of the hole and jumped onto the desert sand. Zelhaut stood there, tapping his foot until five of his golems clambered up after him a while later.

“I need to make you guys faster, you're so fucking slow. Let’s go. That caravan should still be near here.”

Over the months of staying here, instead of going back to the city, he had been getting supplies from a caravan that passes through the area every month. The first time he had met the caravan had been a bit tense, but it was all fine by now. The caravan just made sure to stay away from the pit and keep mum about him. All it took was a few threats and a few one-sided deals in their favor.

Zelhaut headed over to their camp, but he found it abandoned.

“Damn it! Missed them. But they must not have gotten too far.”

He looked around until he found the tracks in the sand and began to run, following the wheel and beast tracks.

—

The fire crackled and popped. Jenu huddled under his blanket, scooching a bit closer to the fire. It was a cold desert night that night. The moon looked especially terrifying, bearing down on everybody.

A brown-skinned man walked over to the fire.

“Jenu, how are you doing? Warm enough?”

“Yes, father.”

Of course, Jenu couldn't complain while on this trip. It was his first caravan experience. If he complained too much while on his first trip, he would look like a wuss, and his father would give the business to one of his younger brothers.

“Well, I personally am freezing. Seems your more suited to the caravan business than I thought.”

<... Why father? Why?>

Jenu wrapped the blankets tighter around himself and turned his back to the annoying man he called father.

“Haha! I'm just kidding around with you. Get some sleep.”

Father gave him a pat on the back and then walked away to continue his talk with the other carriage drivers.

This caravan consisted of twenty carriages total, all of them were pulled by giant tamed bug monsters called scarabs. They looked like black beetles but had a greenish shine to them. The carriages were made of a light but sturdy wood that looked the same color as the sand, allowing some amount of camouflage from bandits and monsters.

Jenu’s carriage hauled silks, a very high-end product around these parts. As such, Jenu was looking forwards to the cushy life as a silk merchant.

Jenu saw a torch in the distance, no doubt one of the adventurers hired to protect the caravan. He began to fall asleep, staring at the torch, thoughts of riches on his mind.

But before he could fall asleep, the torch he was watching in the distance rushed back to the camp. Soon the adventurer came into view after entering the ring of torches placed around the camp.

Jenu sat up, wondering what all the rush was about.

The adventurer rushed up to the group of carriage drivers, telling them something and pointing to where he had just come from. All the carriage drivers' faces paled and they looked at each other in thinly veiled fear. Even his father looked scared.

Jenu got to his feet and walked over to his father.

“Father, what are you all talking about?”

Jenu’s father looked at him.

“Now isn't the time! Go into the carriage and stay there, understand me?!”

Jenu jumped a bit, surprised by his father's anger. He quickly ran to the carriage and hopped in. But before he left, he heard a snippet of one of the other carriage drivers' conversation.

“Why did he have to come?”

Jenu wondered this while he made his way through the carriage to one of the spy holes. He lifted the latch and looked through the spy hole into the distance.

Then, he saw him. Stepping into the torchlight was a man haphazardly wrapped in cloth, his face covered. What little skin showed was twisted and cracked like tree bark. On his head sat a large red hat with a wide brim that went all around in a circle.

Behind the man walked five wooden golems built for slaughter. The golems were all sharp angles, had spear-looking hands, and to top it all off, their wood was stained with buckets of dried blood.

But the man himself was still the most eye-catching. He just gave off an aura of death. Not an aura like necromancers, but a different kind of death. A death filled with pain and finality. And that aura was thick, hanging like a black veil around the man. But that wasn't the worst part. The man himself just seemed wrong, as if he shouldn't exist. It was as if the gods detested him.

The man and the carriage drivers talked for a while, finally agreeing to something. The man handed over a bag of money. Too much money in Jenu’s mind. One of the carriage drivers by the name of Kilond accepted the money, looked inside the bag, and quickly nodded. Kilond then went to his carriage, the only metal carriage in the caravan, the slave carriage.

Kilond brought out a sturdy-looking man in his twenties, pulling him forwards by a chain attached to a leather collar around his neck.

Kilond passed the chain to the man, but one of his golems stepped forwards and accepted the chain instead.

Jenu thought the man odd, but not overly dangerous. But then, the man looked at him. Jenu froze in terror. The man's gaze was not human, he looked at Jenu as if he was just another bug to be squished. And the hatred. Pure unadulterated hatred for every living being, no, just everything in existents.

Then the man smiled.

Jenu leaped back from the spyhole, panting, sweat dropping onto the carriage floor. He curled up into a ball, shivering.

There was a knock on the carriage door and his father walked in. His father looked at him and shook his head.

“You looked, didn't you?”

Sighing, his father sat down. He brought shaking hands to his face and rubbed his head.

“Don’t ever look again, understand me?”

Jenu frantically shook his head. He would never lay eyes on that man ever again.

“I swear.”

—

“Hehehe!”

Zelhaut was headed on his way back, running along. One of his golems was carrying the slave.

“Stupid slave! Can’t even fucking run fast.”

“I-Im sorry master.”

Zelhaut stopped, turning to the slave.

“Don't call me that! Don't call me anything! Just Shut The FUCK UP!”

The slave shriveled under his stare, a wet spot appearing on his burlap pants.

“Great. Now I've got to burn that golem!”

Zelhaut let out a long sigh.

Zelhaut looked at one of his golems. He walked up to it, took his clawed hands, and shoved them into the golem. Imagining the golem was the slave, he ripped open its belly, then dug his way up through the golem until his hand punctured through the top of the golem's head. Then he took the golem's limbs and twisted them off one by one.

“Ah. I feel so much better.”

Looking away from the twisted and ruined hunk of wood, Zelhaut continued his run back to the pit.

When he arrived, he quickly scaled the rope downwards, the slave carried by two golems not far behind.

Zelhaut arrived at the bottom.

“Throw him!”

The slave dropped the last ten-meter drop in a free fall, screaming all the way before a golem caught him at the bottom.

{Food?}

Zelhaut nodded at Krindle.

Zelhaut smiled as Krindle’s face split as well in a sharp, metallic, toothy smile.