El and Alice with the help of Trim succeeded in gathering about fifty little black dots from the heads of slaughtered beasts. El contemplated using his own Energy to melt it on the spot, but he was just so weary he decided to put it all in a small leather patch and save it for later. Not like a local blacksmith could not melt it for him tomorrow.

He calculated he had enough to make a small stone once it melted and combined, about one-fifth of the stone that he wore around in his necklace.

“How does it work?” Alice asked as she watched him studying it.

“It works with Mana. Once you’re able to gain some, I will explain it all to you.”

Probably will end up giving this to you. That will be my gift to you. A gift worth the talent she’s showing. And courage, El thought and made plans but decided to keep them to himself, and instead he said, “It was very foolish to waste so much on such crude beasts. Not very wise.”

“It might be a very new dungeon. Maybe it does not know better. Maybe it just feels so omnipotent that it can’t fathom how valuable that is,” Alice speculated.

“That just might be the case. And that might just be something we can use to our advantage. If we are smart. And lucky,” El said.

“I do not know a lot about dungeons, but I know, you need to press them, and press them hard,” Trim added. “At least that’s how Forthman got to destroy the Gray Stone Dungeon. But it took ten thousand soldiers to do that, pressing it all the time, attacking it constantly, not letting it recover.”

At the cost of too many dead to count, Trim said to himself, not wanting to even say aloud his thoughts, too scared himself to hear them.

“You’re right, Trim. We need to go up North and bring the fight to it, not wait here for it to spawn some even more fierce monsters that will come down and kill everyone.”

Trim looked a bit shocked at him, the words ‘But we don’t have thousands of soldiers’ left on his lips unspoken.

Scarface saw it and commented by spitting on the blood-soaked snow. “You want me with you?” he asked and then tilted his head to look at El and study him.

“Why not? You're a great fighter,” El answered right away. “As long as you’re willing to come.”

Scarface shook his head. “You might have heard this before. Some say I was spawned from the Dungeon itself. To fight one -”

“Are you?”

“No, but it's been so many, many, many days ago, I honestly can't recall. Can’t tell you for sure. It seems all I can remember is killing, and I’m not sure I ever knew any different.”

“Well,” El said and scratched his head. “Tell me, before the beasts left, have you heard the loud beating of the drums?”

“No. Just squealing of the dying ones.”

“Well, then, you're not spawned of this dungeon for sure,” El said. “And I'd love to have you. But it has to be your choice.”

Scarface nodded his head. “Well, then, I guess, I'm ready. For all that I care, we can leave right now. When it comes to the killing, there is no better time for it than right now.”

“So, we leave right now then?” Alice asked eagerly.

“No. We need to get organized,” El said. “See how many people can come with us.”

“It will not be easy to persuade people to leave their homes,” Holgar said right away.

“But it's better to slay the beast when it's running than wait for it to attack you in the dark,” Trim added.

“Talk to people tonight. See how many we can count on. But regardless of their numbers, I'm going. Even if I have to go alone,” El said determinately.

“You will not stand alone,” Trim said and put his hand on his shoulder. “But let us attend our wounded and talk to those that can walk tonight.”

“I'll pack all the food we can afford to carry,” Holgar said. “Just how sure are you that the beasts will not return tonight?”

“Very,” El said. “It took it three days to summon this strength. The next will probably be double this. So then it will hit us with things that we will not be able to defend against, I fear. You know, it might be a novice dungeon. But, it still learns from its mistakes and it would be folly to underestimate its tendency to be evil. We have to assume the worst. Till it's not dead.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

The morning came too fast with El spending night hours restless and unsettled as if he sensed there was something very important he should remember, yet he could not recall what that very important thing was. In the morning, he realized he had not even recuperated fifty percent of his Energy and Mana. “I guess I will have to rest while I travel.”

Nobody else looked much better either.

Last night, forty people said they would go with El up North, not so much because they had any desire to have anything to do with the dungeon, but more because El said that if they did not go, they would have to pack up and move to live somewhere else.

“This is the only way you can survive here,” he said as they all stared in silence at him.

“We will fight,” Dmintiz was the first one to get up and say, his wounds not stopping him from challenging everyone else.

But as the time for departure neared and they placed the last of the supplies on a wagon to take along with them, Alice could count only twenty-five people who had the weapons in their hands.

“Maybe it’s better that way,” Trim said, “Better they ran now than when the battle breaks out.”

At that time, they spotted Principal Lub riding toward them, all straight up in the saddle, the head held high. He was followed by two guards with long spears pointed up with the flag of the House of Forthman’s on its end.

“What is that?”

“Seems like we’re about to have visitors.”

For some reason, nobody was glad to see Principal Lub at this time.

“How do they know to come when the fighting is over, when they are not even needed?” Trim wondered aloud.

“Where were they yesterday??” Holgar growled as well.

“I smell a pile of turds this morning,” Scarface uttered through his clinging teeth, then notched his hood to cover his face even more. “At least now I know why.”

The Principal did not look to El as the same person he saw a few days ago. There was pride and determination in his eyes. When their eyes met, El felt the Principal looking at him as if El was nothing more than a little mouse caught in a farmer’s trap.

The guards that were following him closely behind were not the same ones, even at first sight, El could tell that those were professional soldiers, trained and well-versed in the acts of fighting and killing.

And that was not even the worst of it.

“He’s not alone,” El uttered, hearing more horses hovering, the distant sounds coming clearer, coming from all around. As they turned, they realized there were a dozen of King’s riders descending toward the tavern from both east and west, occupying the space between houses. Even the path north seemed sealed off with a double row of soldiers, spears in their hands, their silver helmets covering their faces, ready to charge.

“What are they doing?” Holgar asked, all confused, looking around at the soldiers who were ready to engage in combat at any second.

“Not a friendly gesture, that’s for sure,” Trim said, his fingers unintentionally starting to caress the handle of his sword. “And to think, a long time ago, we served the same master.”

Alice also realized the sudden tension and she instinctively stepped closer to El, her hand dropping to the axe she tied around her waist.

Whatever reason the Principal showed up, it was nothing good, and El knew he had to take charge, so he spoke before anyone else had a chance.

“So good to come here to join us now that the fighting is all over,” his mocking words greeted Principal. “Where were you yesterday when the beasts attacked and were on the verge of slaughtering the whole village? Did you not promise to defend this place and its residents? Or does that promise wither and turn to dust when the beasts are fierce and too numerous to count??”

The Principal stopped his horse a good distance away from El, and, as expected, decided not to answer El’s question.

“Well, it's so good you're here after all,” the Principal said, grinning at El. “We cast you out and told you to leave. But seems you are not done with stearing trouble here. You say, there were beasts, yet I see none. Maybe…”

“Maybe you should have been here yesterday to see them. Go inside the Tavern and see all the bloody wounded there, go behind the church, and see the graves not yet covered by snow, and beg them and their families for forgiveness.”

“Where is Trader Jack? And his sister Manize?” The Principal demanded.

“They proved too useless on their own, hiding during the battle. Spreading lies afterward. So, I made them useful. But you will not ask them any questions, nor will you get any answers from them. Their privilege to live now rests on my good, or... bad will."

“Oh, so, you rule this land now? You decide -”

“Maybe. Maybe I do, I don’t know,” El said, nonchalantly. “But I’ll tell you what I do know. I know a coward when I see one. And I know no coward can rule this land. So, I know you do not rule here either.”

“How dare you! You will obey!! And you will kneel. And answer questions!

El would have liked nothing better than to use some of his Mana to smoke his arrogant ass. Making him jump out of the seat to land on top of his head against some hard rock. But then he may have to face dozens of spears coming at him fast. And even if he lived to gloat about it, what about Alice and others, what about the whole village? Even if they were to win unscratched, which was most likely never going to happen, would he still be here when the king's servants return for the revenge that was certain to follow?

The Principal saw El’s misgivings and glowed. “Oh, no, not to me. You will not need to answer anything to me. It’s Lord Marbal who would like to have a word with you. So, seize him!”

From four different sides soldiers slowly approached El.

“Neisannn!!!!” El’s voice came out of the bottom of his gut, the voice even strange to himself as never before could he summon it with such ferocity and energy that even the snow under his boots receded, and all the horses that were advancing at him suddenly neighed, pushed against the orders of their riders, and stopped as if frozen.