“Are you ready for the war?” I asked Zavira as I entered her apartment for once.
We’d both gotten messages from our mentors the week prior letting us know about the limited alliance that had been struck between several sects to deal with the revelations pertaining to the Springheart family and their actions.
I’d immediately gone to the library and read everything I could find about dungeon wars – which wasn’t very much – while Zavira had contacted her friends and acquaintances on the floor. It was only after questioning the librarian golem that I got a better grasp of what to expect in the war.
Since it was an official, sanctioned dungeon war between the limited alliance and the Springheart family, the implication was that the dungeon had already determined the Springheart family was at fault for something significant enough to warrant such an action.
Given that, it wasn’t so much a war as a protracted punishment that would continue to be rendered until the Springheart family disbanded. Because improper contracts were a part of the declaration of war, they had to either release the relevant contractees or… something else that wasn’t really very clear.
Apparently, just disbanding might be enough to break the bad contracts, depending on whether the individuals contracted with the family or a particular individual. Regardless, the war was going to continue until nobody carried the Springheart name in the dungeon.
That didn’t mean they would all be killed.
The unawakened youths would merely be stripped of their names. I had no idea what would become of them or who would care for them. I hoped some of the relatively uninvolved adults would take responsibility for their extended family members, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath.
Just because people should do something didn’t mean they would.
Obviously, awakened family members and involved personnel would have to do more than just give up their name, though the specifics were not entirely clear. I knew surrender was part of it, but so was being sent to the appropriate floor.
As the target of a dungeon war, everyone involved would be sent to their ‘proper’ floor. Tier Ones would go to the first floor, Tier Twos the second, and so on. Unawakened would almost certainly stay on their current floor, but that still left the matter of who would care for them if their family members forsook them.
I was unable to find any answers regarding the topic.
It made me feel very guilty.
For those shifted to other floors, I highly doubted the dungeon would let them take a bunch of higher-tier weapons and items along with them. However, I had no idea how the dungeon would manage any of it.
Would the dungeon forcibly reduce everything in tier? What about things within storage items? Would the storage items themselves be weakened?
If so, I could see a lot of chaos when overfilled rings failed, spilling their rapidly weakening goods all over the arrival platforms.
I had so many questions about what was going to happen and so few answers. I really should have considered the ramifications of my actions before setting things in motion.
Would I have done anything different?
I wasn’t sure.
“Yes. I believe I am as ready as I can be,” Zavira answered as she checked through her belongings once again. “I wish we weren’t barred from entering cities until everything is settled. It feels a bit unfair.”
I shrugged. “It’s probably the best way to avoid collateral damage.”
“Couldn’t the dungeon just block the Springhearts from entering the city instead?” she asked grumpily. “They’re the ones who messed up. We’re just the hammer being used to excise the impurities.”
I raised a brow at the horrible Smithing metaphor. Zavira had all sorts of weird sayings like that.
“Maybe it wants to minimize any underhanded dealings. If both sides of the war stay out of the city, the people inside shouldn’t have to worry about getting caught up in things. You know the dungeon is watching everyone connected to the Springhearts like a hawk now that their misdeeds were revealed.”
I still wondered how the Springhearts’ actions had gone undiscovered for so long. I was almost certain the Mana Intelligence that actually ran the dungeon knew about the family’s actions, so it didn’t make sense why the issue was never addressed.
Maybe there had to be an overt, visible action? Could the dungeon be rebelling, however slightly, against its purpose?
It was an interesting thought.
“I wonder how many more people will be forced into the war by the end of things because of it,” I said with a sigh, knowing there were others – whether under contract or not – who were likely to get involved. There was simply too much money at stake to do otherwise.
After receiving messages from our respective mentors, a good number of the sect elites on the floor had met to figure out some sort of plan going forward. A lot of that was simply meeting our temporary allies and making connections, which Zavira was happy to do for both of us.
The meeting did establish areas of responsibility (AOR) for each group of elites. We were assigned one in the underground zone, right in the middle of mid-tier.
My Space affinity granted us a larger area than many of the others since I was capable of covering so much space effectively. There were a couple of other Space Mages involved in the war – on both sides – so I certainly wasn’t unique in my ability to monitor an area and rapidly shift locations.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Niall had been happy to join the war on the side of the sect elites, especially after hearing what the Springheart family had done. He’d been prepared when the declaration of war was made, and I suspected he was one of the first non-sect elites to officially join the war.
Having planned ahead, we were already in place when the declaration was made. Aside from a few last-minute defenses, there was little to do but wait until the grace period for surrenders and preparation ended. Allowing the Springhearts and their allies to prepare was largely a symbolic effort since we all knew there was no way for the Springhearts to actually win the war.
It was literally a method of retribution by the dungeon. Or maybe it was done by the overseers, who’d undoubtedly been embarrassed by the revelation of the Springhearts’ actions happening right under their noses.
“Do you think the people forced into bad contracts will be required to fight in the war?” I asked, thinking about how much I didn’t want to potentially kill someone whose only real crime was allowing themselves to get roped into a bad deal.
“I hope not, but I can’t see how they would avoid it as long as their contract is active,” Zavira said with a thoughtful frown. “I guess it would depend on the wording of the contract.”
Knowing how sketchy contracts could be when people weren’t maliciously looking to exploit people, I expected an unfortunate number of contractees would find themselves being used as meat shields in the upcoming war.
I hoped none of them were sent in our direction.
“Maybe their sect oaths would trump their contracts?” I said with a hint of hope.
“I guess it’s possible. Did you read anything that suggested that might happen when you were at the library?” Zavira asked.
My shoulders slumped. “No. The only two dungeon wars I was able to learn about had nothing to do with the enslavement of challengers.”
Before either of us could say any more, the countdown on my interface blinked, alerting me to the official start of the war.
----------------------------------------
I hated killing people.
If I could reasonably avoid it, I would. Offenders labeled as such by the system (like bandits) obviously didn’t count. They were nothing but a blight on civilization. Taking them out was a service to society.
But war… felt different.
Honestly, the thought of fighting and killing arrogant jerks who treated most others as beneath them didn’t bother me all that much – especially when I knew many of them liked to secretly level by targeting unsuspecting people.
But the Accords were limited in their application. Killing someone at the same or higher tier didn’t count as an offense. It was strange, but I’d studied the topic enough to understand the intent behind the rules.
The Accords were supposed to keep the powerful from slaughtering the weak. It was supposed to serve as a deterrent by marking those who actively preyed on those weaker than them.
However, dying to someone at or below your level meant you were too weak, and the Accords didn’t care very much about that.
The people in the higher realms apparently didn’t care for weakness, nor did they care for tyrants.
Or maybe it was just the system’s creator who felt that way.
Regardless, the arrogant, entitled sociopaths that I wanted to fight were not who we found ourselves up against.
Instead of actual villains, we encountered groups of people who’d mostly been pulled into the conflict by virtue of their connection to the Springhearts, not any desire to engage in war.
People like Chao.
“How did you get roped into this?” I asked the Earthborn Smith when I noticed him in our AOR. He was one of the first to arrive in our section, and having worked with the man before, I recognized him immediately.
Not expecting me to appear out of nowhere, the older man startled, nearly lashing out before he caught himself.
Chao was haloed in red, marking him as an enemy in the war. I was sure I was similarly marked in his vision as well.
“I’m honestly not sure,” Chao replied quietly. “I had to sign a contract to rent a smithy in the city, but otherwise, I haven’t had any contact with the Springheart family. I was surprised when the notice about the war popped up, and I didn’t even get the option to decline. There was nothing about fighting for the Springhearts in the contract,” he added glumly.
Surprised to hear such a seemingly neutral contract could have been used to conscript someone into war, I messaged Zavira to ask for her thoughts. Her reply was swift.
[Zavira: Most professional rentals will have some kind of caveat about providing support or defense in case the facility is attacked. If the Springhearts own the contract, I could see how something like that could be construed to include fighting on the family’s behalf since they are the targeted party.]
“That’s going to make things so much worse,” I groaned under my breath.
I’d expected the conscripted fighters to mostly be those who’d been caught up in restrictive or overly negative contracts. If the Springhearts could force everyone who’d signed any kind of contract with them to fight, things could get bad, fast.
“Chao, I’m going to put you behind a wall with some air flow and a meal slot. Consider yourself captured.”
The Smith tensed. “I don’t think I have the option to just give up without try—” The man froze in place as he was hit by my Pause spell. Thankfully, we were far enough away from other ‘enemies’ that we hadn’t drawn their attention. I doubted they even knew Chao was there.
With the man frozen in Time, I easily Teleported us both to an alcove near my party’s base.
“Give me a few minutes to make something that’ll work as a jail,” I called out, letting my teammates know I’d returned. “I don’t want to leave the guy in a blank cell if this is going to take a while, and he’s not an enemy. He just got caught up in the war without the option to say no.”
Part of me hoped we encountered a lot of people like Chao. I’d much rather keep them in holding until the war was over than kill otherwise innocent people. It really didn’t seem right that the dungeon wasn’t allowing contractees to decline to participate in the war, especially if they were only peripherally connected to the family.
There had to be some kind of small print involved in the contract.
The dungeon did not like my efforts to modify the underground tunnel, so I gave up and simply walled off a tunnel that led to a dead end, creating a long, extended cell for Chao and any other reluctant combatants we encountered.
Since I didn’t have the mana to hold several people under Time effects indefinitely, it seemed more reasonable to just create an area where they could stay in relative safety.
“I’m going to need some supplies for this,” I said, frowning. “I didn’t plan on needing to house anyone other than us. And I’m definitely not giving anyone a pod.”
Not even Chao, though he was arguably a good guy.
I worked on the interior of the extended cell as I waited for a response to my most recent message, hoping my connection would come through instead of forcing me to get creative.
[Jackle: No! I’m not involved at all. Thankfully. I can absolutely get you whatever you need. Send me a list and I’ll start getting things together. What kind of budget are you looking at?]
With a grateful sigh, I replied to the Merchant and returned my focus to our surroundings. The jail cell could wait.
“I’m going to message some of the other elites and let them know that a lot of the people being added to the war are not interested in fighting. Hopefully, we can minimize the amount of bloodshed involved,” Zavira said with a glance toward the newly constructed wall.
“Hopefully, the other groups are honorable,” Niall said grimly as we headed toward the group closest to our location.
I hoped the rest of the people in our zone were like Chao – disinterested in fighting a war they had no real connection to. Unfortunately, it seemed most of them did not share the Earthborn Smith’s sensibilities.