“Come. Don’t get too close to them.”
A mother ushered her toddler aged son away from my amber eyed workers. They made no outward reaction, but I could tell that the simple act hurt. Though they were my thralls, they still considered themselves part of Settertons people. To see and hear blatant discrimination like this… well, it was no wonder they felt outcast.
This wasn’t an isolated incident. Yes, the men and women of Setterton interacted with my thralls, but that was a matter of face. Mimi, with nothing better to do in the core room, overheard a great many shouted whispers that I was too busy to listen to. She’d report to me the villagers thoughts of insurrection, or rebellion, or whatever little coup they were planning at the moment. They talked about what I’d do if they left my core alone and just killed my thralls, or if they should just leave them behind when they escaped the caves.
Yes, the villagers were nice to my thralls and monsters. But it wasn’t because they were friends. It was because they were afraid.
Some exceptions were present of course. The old leather worker guy had taken a shine to one mimic crab in particular, for one. With some small amounts of mana, I was slowly evolving that mimic crab to better suit helping and performing leather working duties.
In other, much better news, Grant was up and walking about again! The bat I assigned to be his right arm and leg has evolved into an unholy abomination of a creature, and will certainly be useless without Grant’s skeletal structure holding it up. On the bright side, while its wings were small for now, it was feasible for Grant to fly like the vampire I’d originally intended him to be. Eventually.
His mom and dad were taking him on long walks outside my domain, along with whatever company that decided to follow them. They collected food, mosses, and anything else they decided either I or the villagers needed. On their most recent excursion however, they encountered a small smattering of undead, who attacked them.
Luckily, the only major injury resulted from Sneaky being torn in half. I don’t know which one it was, but now I had three of the little snakes. Mr. Vernant handled the attack very well. I suspected that the attack was a probe, to see the limits and skills of my thralls, since Mercy didn’t seem any worse off for the attack. She apparently sent off the undead that weren’t much of a use to her.
She’d been growing impatient lately, as well as the other dungeons. Somewhere along the line of collecting villagers and building the walls of my castle, the four great dungeons recognized that I was becoming a threat. However, every time they built up enough of an army to properly face me, either their neighbor or Mercy would edge closer, building pressure for them to defend. If they all worked together, I’d be screwed. However, their competitive nature worked in my favor here. So long as they kept each other busy, I was free to do whatever I wanted.
I asked Owyn about this behavior, and he assured me that it was quite common. While the distribution of wandering dungeons, like Mercy, to stationary dungeons, like me, varied, it was quite common for multiple dungeons to exist in the same general area as one another in relative peace.
I told him about M.A.D., or mutually assured destruction, and he agreed that the concept was almost identical.
Speaking of Owyn, he was in much better spirits now! He mumbled to himself a lot. Like, a lot, nowadays, however he almost alway had a smile on his face. We talked often, and since I let my guard down with him, I’d let slip a concept or two that send him down a rabbit hole of thoughts I let him work through on his own. Like sure, I could tell Owyn how a plane flies, but it’s vastly more interesting to watch Owyn try to work it out for himself.
He still hasn’t figured it out yet, but we had time.
Finally, we were on the home stretch. My dungeon reached almost all the way to the surface. Owyn was currently leading the second to last group of villagers back, with a heavier escort than normal. Well, I say heavier, but that just means that besides Damian, a few mimic crabs have joined in. Subsonar waits for the procession at the cliff as usual, and when the villagers are being flown down, the few mimic crabs wave goodbye. After that, they return to wandering about the upper caves in groups. I’m not sure what they’re doing most of the time, but I do catch them feeding the guppies every now and again, so I leave them be.
The arrival of new villagers had become an event overnight. Now, all the current villagers of Setterton are greeting the newest arrivals, saving Owyn the trouble of introducing them to everyone else. Sometimes the villagers blatantly shield the newbies from my monsters, but I really couldn’t care less. So long as everyone behaved, that was fine by me.
Not wanting to waste any more time, Damian brings Owyn up to the upper caves again. We’re going to finish this rescue today. Get the last of Settertons villagers down into my dungeon, Felecia included!
Doing that means my dungeon will finally breach the surface. I’ll be literally face to face with the church’s main camp outside, so just in case, I’m sending all my thralls with Owyn, as well as Mycroft. She’s the tankiest monster I have that can actually fit inside the upper cave system, so it makes sense to send her as well.
The more I think about the surface, the more afraid I become. Apprehension has started to crawl into my belly. The church has been nice so far, as far as a bunch of bad guys go, but I still didn’t trust them. Admittedly, their kind behaviors have begun leading me to believe that maybe submitting to them wouldn’t be a bad idea.
Wait, what? What was I saying? What am I feeling? This isn’t how I thought I’d feel! I thought I’d be excited! I’d get to see the sun again, maybe some new animals I could enthrall, maybe-
Hello?
I teleport in an instant to the source. My core, where three young kids of varying ages are placing their hands on me directly.
Ah, so that’s where these odd feelings are coming from.
Wadda ya want? I ask. I’m busy.
The oldest one cringes a bit, but remains firm. We’re the dungeon rats. We’re, uh, adventurers.
That matches what I feel through the contact. The feelings of all three of them are rather muddled, but I’m getting a mix of apprehension, some fear, and a hint of hope. Why?
Alright. I begin. What do you want?
They’re a long way away from the other villagers. In fact, this timing doesn’t feel coincidental. All the other villagers are greeting the newbies, which is making me think these three came here with the intent to not be seen. Interesting…
We… uh-
The youngest one interrupts. “We want to become thralls.”
The other two let go of my core and clamp their hands around the youngest’s mouth. Much shushing was done.
“You hands! Remember! Talk through your hand!” The middle one whispers.
“Quiet!” The oldest puts his hand back on my core. Sorry! But yeah. We kind of want to be thralls. If that’s ok.
This one’s polite. I like him. Why? Where are your parents?
We don’t have any. The middle one says. We’re orphans. We’re poor.
Their clothes certainly fit the description. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were wearing potato sacks cinched at the waist and sewed at the crotch.
Wait…
That’s exactly what they were wearing.
Please. The middle one asked again. The church took everything we owned. We don’t have any of our usual adventuring stuff, but we can be useful! We promise!
The other two quickly nodded. Still apprehensive, but the fear was long gone. They were about as sure as they could be in this decision.
I shrug. Good enough. Alright you three, welcome to the team.
I didn’t even need to give a command to them. Their willingness to become my thralls made the transition so much easier than nearly anything I’d done before. And oddly enough, I wasn’t feeling the headache like I thought I would. I thought I was close to reaching my limit on how many people I could have enthralled?
Absently, I start feeding the three of them mana, to change their eye colors over to match my core. Go to the bottom of the cliff. I’ll send Damian to lift you up. You’re going with Owyn as guards for the last batch of villagers.
Subsonar was alright lifting people down, but he wasn’t strong enough to lift them off the ground. Damian was the only one strong enough for that.
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I hate this. Damian grumbled. I am an assassin. Not a flight service.
Yeah well, good news. You’ve given me an idea for these three. You still have that pouch of cores? Good. Feed them each two. Big ones, if you can.
Damian grumbled further, but obviously he didn’t complain further. The three kids dutifully took and ate their provided cores before being lifted up. As they did, I sort of followed Damian in his flight. His wings seemed… small, to me. I remember seeing something on TV once, explaining who humans couldn’t fly. Their bones were too dense, and if we had wings to compensate, they’d have to be the size of houses or something ridiculous like that. And yet, Damian was able to carry himself as well as a single passenger seemingly without issues.
More magic dungeon bullshit. I wonder if Owyn didn’t consider this to be magic either.
Maybe that was part of why he didn’t understand how airplanes worked. Aerodynamics was a rather important discussion we would have to have later.
Regardless! Onwards my thralls! Let us ascend to the surface!
I didn’t have enough mana, but that would be solved over time. The group would take about 2 hours to reach the end of my dungeon at this point, and the rooms at the entrance are rather small, so they’re cheap and easy to claim. Especially since I don’t have to fight any other dungeons to get there.
I’d done some thinking as of late. By keeping only the path directly from my core to the entrance, I’d be leaving other dungeons room to grow in the upper caves. Since consuming larger cores was more efficient that consuming many smaller cores, if I left dead ends and spare rooms for other dungeons, I could essentially farm them. I’d have to ensure that their monsters weren’t threats to me, but that was just a small matter of overwhelming firepower. Easy enough.
Speaking of overwhelming firepower, how should I be dealing with the church? Now that my head’s a little clearer, it’s about time to consider not just what I should prepare, but what the church is going to prepare. What are they going to do when I got to the surface? Would they take the opportunity to betray me? Would it even be considered a betrayal if I saw it coming?
Felecia? I’d like a heads up. What am I expecting from the surface?
Hello to you too. The Baroness jokes. It’s abnormally quiet up here. It seems like with that last batch you took, the church is preparing to receive you on the surface. All three cardinals are standing in front of the cave entrance, and nearly the whole rest of the camp surrounds them. Arms ready for a fight.
And the high priests?
I’m standing with them, behind the cardinals and surrounded by knights.
You’re out of your cage! I say happily. I can tell she bristles at that. Good for you! Hopefully they treated you well?
Enough. Felecia says flatly. I’m ready to see my people again.
She sends me an image. Everything is exactly as she says it was, but I can see a little further into the cave, where the last five villagers sit or stand, looking confused. Some had red marks on their wrists and ankles. Evidence that they had only recently been freed from their bonds. Also just outside the cave is a pile of goods, including actual crates of food. Enough to feed the village for two or three days,
A few of the remaining villagers caught Felecia’s eyes. Some mixture of begging for help, and recognizing that none would come. I wondered if any of them knew she was a thrall? I couldn’t change her eye color since she’s not in my dungeon’s territory. That’ll be rectified once we reclaim her. If the church gives her over, that is.
I’d actually like to remain like this, if I can. Felecia requested. I’ll mark myself some other way.
I clicked my tongue. Ah, right. You were rather against the whole ‘evolution’ deal, weren’t you. Ah well, we’ll think of something. Maybe a hat.
No hat.
Wristband?
I’ll find someone to make me a bracelet in your colors.
Works for me. My avatar floats along side the procession of thralls and Owyn as they make their way to the entrance. Or would it be counted as an exit? Does it matter depending on your direction? Like vectors!
Yes, this is truly a question for the greatest philosophers.
I snicker at my own joke, but none of my thralls share in the amusement.
Oh come on, I’m funny!
I get a smattering of ‘sure’s’ and ‘if you say so’s’. I stick my tongue out at them, though none of them can see it.
The rooms grow tight, and the way further is barricaded by low ceilings and tight doorways. Mycroft stays behind, while the rest of the humans walk on. My domain slowly expands to accommodate them.
The light of the rooms begins to change. It’s a slow, nearly imperceivable thing to me, since I can see perfectly well in the dark of my own domain, but the humans definitely notice a difference. My thralls begin chatting with one another, commenting about how they missed the daylight. An apparently universal feeling. I found myself equally intoxicated by the idea of seeing daylight.
Touching grass!
Who knew I would miss touching grass!
The thralls spotted the villagers in the last room and waved. Everyone had to crouch beneath the low ceiling to get there, but get there they did. The five villagers quickly crowded around the thralls, eager to finally understand what had been happening deeper in the caves. My domain passed over them without issue. The room they were staying in was actually quite large, and it opened up to several branches, much to my pleasure! However, I was here for the surface! So I expanded out and out until I found it!
And then I stopped.
It stopped me.
The outdoors was an impassable barrier. I knew- knew that no matter how hard I tried, I’d never be able to expand my domain outside the caves. Owyn had warned me about this, but he never told me the reason.
The outdoors was a dungeon.
I could feel it. Its massive power. It’s overwhelming power. And it felt… content. Complacent. At ease with itself behind the security of its enormous power. It was equal parts awe inspiring…
And infuriating.
I understood now, the urge for dungeons to grow more powerful. I felt it too. The burning desire to do nothing more than to make the powerful fall, and to rise in their place. The outdoors disgusted me. To have all that power, and to do nothing with it. Its contentment with the world infuriated the desire to do and see interesting things within me. It, like me, had become God and it did nothing?
Pathetic.
The humans all crowd just in front of the low ceiling. Damian remains out of sight behind the thralls, along with the mimic crabs that had decided to join along. The humans either haven’t noticed them, or don’t give them any attention, instead choosing to focus on the church members gathered outside my domain. Felecia informs me that the three cardinals have taken steps closer to my dungeon's entrance, Garroway leading the others.
Garroway enters my dungeon, but the other two stop deliberately short. I narrow my eyes at the darkness of the veil between us. They seem very cautious about entering my dungeon, while Garroway waltzes in without a care in the world.
“Do you understand now?” Garroway begins. “Why we have done what we have done to aid you?”
No, but I’m beginning to have a different suspicion.
The outdoors is a dungeon. The church destroys dungeons. In particular, they publicly target the dungeons that threaten humanity. In reality, they’re targeting dungeons that are antagonists against the surface.
“You have a much greater purpose in life.” Garroway continued. “One that could be used to saving the human race!”
I had Felecia voice my comment. “That sounds a tad egotistical.”
Garroway did not turn to face her. He didn’t dare turn his back on me.
“Dozens of kingdoms, hundreds of rulers, all fighting for the same control over people. The church has discovered a better way to create absolute peace for this world! A new way to rule!”
The outdoors was a dungeon.
“We will give the right to rule over us to the dungeons!”
The villagers, enthralled and freed, bristled. None of them liked what he was saying. And neither did I.
“Think about it!” Garroway continued enthusiastically. “No dungeon will allow their thralls to fight each other! No dungeon will let themselves become weak! No dungeon would allow for anything other than their own power be absolute! They'll try their best to not just survive, but thrive!”
Owyn separated himself from the crowd, standing firmly between Garroway and the others. My thralls gestured for the others to gather the supplies left for them while Owyn confronted the cardinal. “Give us the Baroness.”
Garroway lowered his hands, smiling. “Of course. We wouldn’t want to antagonize our savior after all.”
There is a right way to do things, and a wrong way. I told nobody in particular. However this, goes beyond wrong. How are you able to claim a solution is perfect when you must force others into believing it?
Forcing others to forego their free will to ensure peace… the history of my world had a number of examples about why that never worked. It was simply not in human nature to give up.
However… the magic of dungeons altered things.
Disgusting.
Garroway bowed slightly, stepping to the side. “You must know that you are not the first. The Church of Will already follows a God. And we hope that our good will towards you has granted us the ability to talk things through. Peacefully.”
Felecia was being brought forth.
Shove one of the cardinals into my domain. I commanded her.
She walked in silence, seemingly obeying whatever or whoever was leading her to my dungeon. When she got close enough though, she lashed out.
“Hey!” The female cardinal shouted, only barely appearing in my dungeon senses.
But that moment was enough. She’s enthralled.
Felecia entered my dungeon a few moments later, high nose and unperturbed by the undoubtedly nasty looks from the cardinal behind her.
Garroway stopped her with a massive hand on her shoulder, though he addressed me when speaking. “Of course, we are doing this with peace in mind. We will stop at nothing to achieve our goals. I do hope I’m making myself clear.”
Felecia glares at him, but neither of us say a word. Garroway, satisfied, pats her on the shoulder once more, letting her go.
“You will receive no more help from us Lucid.” He says with a booming voice. “Not unless we know for sure if we’re allies or not.”
A cardinal’s voice added from outside. “It will take a lot more than words to assure us of your allegiance. You will have to prove it with actions. After you meet our God.”
Owyn collects Felecia. With a sturdy nod to the church, he turns his back on them, leading the men and women of the village back to their people.