Nora watched as over a hundred men thundered by, running in unison as they called out some sort of song in Bob's language.

Glacier Valley was eye-opening. There were so many people, almost all of them middle-aged men, all wearing the same outfits. None of them spoke Thayland.

She was waiting around with nothing to do. She sighed.

She spotted one of the Endless Swarm girls exiting the tavern, and she hurried over.

"Hi!" Nora called out cheerfully, "I can't tell you how glad I am to see someone who speaks Thayland!"

"I know, right?" The unnamed girl replied as she turned and returned Nora's smile. "We had to keep asking for Bob to come to translate for us, and we were just starting to pick up things like "Portal" in their language before Eddi told us to go see Kelli and get English stuffed into our heads."

"Oh, he knows English? He can do that?" Nora asked.

"I'm Carrie, and Kelli can indeed," she confirmed, "it kind of sucks to not be able to understand what all of these guys are saying."

"Although," she sighed dramatically, pouting, "it turns out that I'm something called 'Jailbait,' and none of them will even flirt with me," she complained, "I mean, I know they're all a little old, but what's wrong with a little harmless flirting?"

"I'm not sure," Nora said thoughtfully, "but I think people on Bob's world get married a lot later than we do. He called all of us kids, even though Orson was almost twenty."

Carrie perked up. "You were one of the people that Bob shepherded?" she asked.

"I was the first person," Nora said proudly, "I'm the one who convinced him to become a Shepherd."

"Wow, so you're from Harbordeep then," she looked at her sadly, "is it as bad there as everyone says?"

"What?" Nora asked, confused.

"I heard that you can't even go into the Dungeon without paying like a thousand crystals," Carrie said, "and that all the higher tier people lord it over you and that they'll beat you up if you so much as bump into them on the street."

Nora couldn't get a word in edgewise. "And they have tavern separated with the regular folks in a crappy corner, and the higher tiers have their side all fancy and clean. And if you try to go over, they'll beat you to death!" Carrie shook her head.

"Well," Nora replied as Carrie had paused to breathe, "it's a little stratified, and I know the guild is separated, and it does cost a lot of money to Delve," she admitted.

"But honestly, it isn't that bad," Nora said, "I mean, people are safe there."

Carrie nodded as she looked around at the neatly organized buildings. "Yeah, I'm not sure what they're doing about the wave that's due," she agreed, "I mean, sure, there are ten Endless members here, and we can probably take care of it, but I'm not sure if that's what Bob has planned, and Eddi hasn't mentioned where we're going to be during the wave, although I bet it comes up at the meeting tomorrow night."

"So, what path are you on?" Carrie asked.

"Elemental Conjuration," Nora replied proudly.

"Blaster, eh?" Carrie said, "I bet you'll have an impact on the wave; I heard about how Bailli just obliterated the twentieth floor of the Dungeon during the last one."

"I hope so," Nora sighed, "I'm out here to collect the King's tax on behalf of my father, which means I'm stuck because the Dungeon here isn't deep enough to advance yet."

"Bob's digging it deeper, though, right?" Carrie answered her own question, "I heard he built the seventh floor yesterday, and he's building the eighth floor today."

"He is, but I need to be down on the sixteenth floor to level up my spells and the seventeenth floor to actually earn crystals," Nora grumbled.

"That's rough," Carrie commiserated, "who is your dad anyway?"

"Rogard Wallenstair," Nora said warily, "he's in charge of collecting the taxes for the King in Holmstead."

"You're a noble?" Carrie gasped, "but you seem so normal?"

"I guess I am, sort of," Nora hedged, "I refused to take my family's path when I found how the Noble houses were hoarding power, and I left, but they didn't kick me out or anything," she hastened to add, "and my father isn't like that at all, it's just that there is Geas that keeps them from telling anyone about the path that hasn't accepted the Geas first."

She shook her head, "It's really insidious, the way the Nobles clung to their power."

"Well, you did the right thing," Carrie assured her, "and Bob brought the power of the Endless Swarm to the people, so we'll never need nobles to protect us again," she finished proudly.

"I wonder if I could sneak off and have Kelli teach me English," Nora wondered out loud.

"You should," Carrie encouraged her, "if anyone gives you a hard time, you can just tell them that you can't be expected to be responsible for anything in Glacier Valley if you don't speak the language."

Nora nodded thoughtfully.

"Come on," Carrie grabbed her hand as the portal opened in front of her. "Let's go!"

Nora let herself be pulled through the portal.

----------------------------------------

Bob staggered as he stood up. These floors were a lot more difficult. He doubted he'd be able to do the tenth floor in one shot like he'd been doing.

Still, he'd finished it, and if he was a little stiff, and his matrix burned a little bit from pushing mana through it continuously for so long, what did it matter?

He walked over to the area he'd designated for the Gateway and started pulling the pieces out of his inventory. Huron had the right idea about that.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

This floor would hold another seventy-five Marines, which would free up the second and third floors. He knew that Mike was planning on bringing another wave of injured Marines over in a few days and that Dave and Amanda were bringing a hundred or so D&D players over a couple of days after that, so he'd need to rush the support personnel he was bringing in from Holmstead through the levels before the Dungeon was fully utilized again. He'd knock out a floor a day for the next two days, and then he'd need two days per floor.

He planned to tell Mike about the upcoming wave and let him see to the fortifications. It had occurred to him that the Marines probably knew more about holding a position against a horde of enemies than anyone else. At least with their equipment.

Bob had done his best to ignore the suspicious stack of crates he'd seen being carried into one of the newly constructed buildings in a manner that could only be described as 'furtive.'

He was well aware that many of the Marines had loudly and frequently lamented the lack of heavier weapons.

Finishing the Gateway, Bob portaled back to the Tavern to activate it. He found Mike waiting for him at the Gateway, accompanied by Eric, Annisa, and a young man he didn't recognize.

"Mike, Eric, Annisa," Bob nodded to them as he tried to straighten his back and winced. "Just finished the eighth floor. Give me a moment to link it to the Gateway up here."

Mike nodded and gestured for the others to wait.

Or at least Bob thought what that gesture meant. He was tired.

One hundred seconds and one hundred mana crystals later, Bob groaned as his matrix burned for what was hopefully the last time that day.

"Done," he sighed, turning back to the group.

"Dinner?" Bob asked.

"Probably for the best," Mike replied, without a trace of the humor he normally displayed.

Bob headed into the Tavern, feeling satisfied that he'd managed to time his completion of the floor to coincide with the last batch of Marines filing through the line for dinner.

Accepting a tray filled with mashed potatoes and thick slabs of meat, he headed to his customary table in the rear corner of the Tavern.

He pulled a bowl of fresh fish from his inventory, placing it on the table, before doing the same with Monroe, who woke up with a little 'mreow' of dissatisfaction before noticing the fish, which served to earn Bob a small measure of forgiveness.

The rest of the group followed suit, with the young man pausing to look at Monroe, who was delicately eating his fish.

"You normally let an animal eat on the table?" He asked in disgust.

"I like Monroe better than I like most people," Bob responded shortly, "and being as it's my table, in my tavern, yes. If you don't like it, then you can eat on the floor."

Mike and Eric both winced while Annisa hid a smile behind her hand. The kid's eyes went wide, then narrowed.

"Sit down," Bob said tersely, "I've had a long day, and Mike doesn't ever bring me good news, only problems, so I imagine my mood isn't going to improve."

The kid sat down, although he didn't look happy.

"So," Bob began, "we're going to have a monster wave in a week or so," he looked at Mike, "figure probably an hour or so of monsters flooding the valley, mostly level three to five, but you'll get the occasional heckin' chonker," he grimaced and unconsciously touched his side.

"Those would be a problem, but I plan to ask Eddi if I can keep his Endless guildmates over here for it; from what he's said, they've got the wave at Holmstead covered ten times over," Bob continued. "The people here on Thayland have big stone walls, but I figure you know better than I do how to best defend the place," Bob finished.

"How many monsters?" Mike asked, pulling out his tablet.

"Assuming roughly the same saturation as Holmstead, which is all I have to base it off of, call it three million," Bob replied.

"That's a lot of monsters," Mike said quietly.

"Eh, if I had another dozen Endless Swarm pathers, they'd handle the lot by themselves," Bob replied as he started cutting up his steak. "But, I don't think it would sit very well with everyone if they weren't part of the defense," he paused to look up and frowned. "Am I wrong about that?"

"No," Mike sighed, "You aren't wrong."

"Oh," Bob smiled tiredly, "good."

"Eric," Bob continued waving a steak-laden fork in his direction, "Mike said we were running low on funds. I know we can't walk into a pawnshop with gold bars without raising a lot of red flags, but I read some news stories about people stealing copper pipes out of buildings and selling them to recycling plants, and apparently, they don't ask a lot of questions. Can I just summon out some big copper blocks and have you sell them to the recyclers?"

Eric blinked and paused before replying. "I've never recycled copper before," he replied hesitantly, "but I can find out, and we are running low on money. Figure we have enough for another couple days worth of food, and then we're done."

"Yeah, I've got a group of people coming from Holmstead tomorrow morning," Bob said tiredly, "in exchange for letting them run down through the Dungeon to level up to five, they'll grow vegetables for us every day, as well as butchering and cooking the Oxcipines."

He chewed on his steak, noting that if it was Oxcipine, it was delicious. Swallowing, he continued, "I spatially expanded some packs that you can stuff an entire Oxcipine into, so getting the meat back up shouldn't be hard, although I'll need to make a few more every day," he sighed.

"That ought to see us set for food for now," Bob shook his head, "although that whole thing about bringing over families will need to be ramped up soon, after the wave, get the people who are willing to take on support roles over here."

"That's all I can think of, Mike; what do you have for me?" Bob asked as he settled into his meal.

"As planned, the Marines who hadn't yet leveled up their summons were able to catch up, so we'll be pushing them down to the eighth floor at full strength," Mike began, "and rotating those on the sixth floor to the seventh, and so on, which will leave us with floors one through three empty."

He looked over at Eric and Annisa and shook his head before he continued. Bob knew he wasn't good with people, but he could feel a rising sensation of dread.

"Corporal Waters and Priestess Annisa located Lieutenant Colonel Smith," he gestured towards the kid, "and they reincarnated him."

"Oh," Bob felt the weight lift from his stomach. "Nice to meet you, Lieutenant Colonel," he said happily, "sorry for being so short with you, as you can see, I've got a lot on my plate and precious little time."

"I'd say it was nice to meet you as well, Mr. Whitman," the Lt. Colonel ground out, "were it not for the fact that your people used their magic on me without asking me first, leaving me stuck as an eighteen your old again!"

"You didn't..." Bob trailed off, looking between Eric, who was looking down, clearly embarrassed, and Annisa, who was happily eating her steak.

"Fuck," Bob groaned, sinking his head into his hands. "You're supposed to be good with people," he muttered to his mashed potatoes, "or at least better than me."

"I'm certain that the Colonel will eventually be grateful for the gift Vi'Radia has bestowed upon him," Annisa said sagely, "he simply needs a little time to comprehend the magnitude of it."

"And I've told you, I'm well aware of the magnitude of having to live another seventy years," Smith spat out, "also, it's Lieutenant Colonel if you please."

Bob looked up to find Smith glaring at Annisa, Eric still looking down, and Mike grimacing.

"Awesome," he grumbled. "Lieutenant Colonel Smith, you have my apologies; I'd thought this was going to be handled differently," he sighed and resisted the urge to rub his temples. "I understand your objection to being reincarnated when you didn't know what was going to happen."

Bob paused. "I might have a solution, though," he murmured. "I know someone who can implant information directly into your mind, and I imagine he could remove it as well," Bob continued, oblivious to the growing looks of horror on both Mike and Smith's faces.

"I could probably have him just pull out your memories after basic training?" Bob offered, looking up at the rafters thoughtfully, "or maybe your first deployment?"

Bob looked across the table and realized he must have said something wrong.

Mike shook his head slowly.

Smith squinted at Bob, then looked at Eric, who appeared to be trying very hard to disappear, and then at Mike, and finally at Annisa, who had been nodding along at Bob's suggestion.

He pointed a fork at Mike. "You were right, Sergeant," he said, "you need help if this is who is in charge."

"I've been telling everyone I shouldn't be in charge," Bob protested, "it's just that I'm the only one who can really do it, as I'm the only one who has spent enough time here to understand how everything works."

Smith shook his head. "I'll keep my memories, boy, and being as I've been shanghaied into this, I'll do what I can to help, on the condition that you make it a priority to get the Corps involved."