POV Cormac Torgir

Cormac found himself somewhere else surrounded on all sides by a white haze. It was familiar in a way he hadn’t expected. He turned and sure enough, there he was, the High Spirit of Trickery and Mischief, lounging on a throne.

“How yah been Cormac?” Trik’Weri said through his smirk. “You seem to have found yourself in a tough spot.”

Cormac forced an easy smile onto his face. Of course, the god would latch onto this chance. After the severing of ties with the tall folk Cormac had also severed ties with the god he had been meaning to devote himself to. At the time he had lost his faith in the gods of the tall folk and returned to the first deity of his people, the Mother Tree. To this day he refused to acknowledge the seed planted in him by Trik’Weri, afraid of what it would cost him.

“What do you want?” Cormac asked and watched as Trik’Weri’s face darkened even as he rose from his throne.

“What do I want?” The god hissed. “I want what was promised!” He roared. “I crafted a seed of potential for you and out of spite and anger you chose to spurn my kindness and now I am forced to give you another chance.” His eyes burning Trik’Weri stalked back to his throne even as he waved his hand to create a window. Through it, Cormac could see the frozen tableau of his fight in the Dungeon.

“No more games Cormac Torgir and no more bargains made with half-truths. You have two options before you.” Trik-Weri made a motion and Cormac felt the seed respond to the pull. A golden thread materialized between himself and the god and the High Spirit motioned to it. “You can accept being bound to me for life and after it. In doing so the seed will reach its full potential but you will serve me completely and no others.” Cormac felt his heart clench at the thought and clenched harder at the next words spoken. “If you agree I will save your party and remove them from the Dungeon including your fiancé Fiona, healed and completely whole.”

“Refuse,” Here Trik’Weri’s voice grew cold and frigid. “And not only will I let the Dungeon kill you and your party but I will help it do so and claim that seed from your cold dead corpse before the Dungeon can absorb it for itself.”

Cormac shuddered and bowed before the weight of his choices. He was a fool to have come here without the full support of his people. He could see that now. He had been overconfident and overzealous and it had led to this outcome. But he also knew himself better in this moment than he had before. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to live. He wanted to marry Fiona. He wanted to craft masterpieces the world had never before seen. And he wanted power. He let out his breath in a rush and made his choice. The thread between him and Trik’Weri pulsed and the god smiled.

POV Valterra Unok’Davaas

Valterra watched as the bearded one disappeared along with his party. His anger still simmered beneath the surface at being denied their deaths but he also knew that he was getting something from the exchange when he didn’t have to. Technically the bargain he had made with the High Spirit so long ago had ignited a divine spark and nothing Valterra had would repay that kind of debt. The favor he owed to Trik’Weri was completely open-ended and the god would have been well within his rights to simply take what he wanted without needing Valterra’s permission or giving anything in return.

So, Valterra turned and focused on his survival and the new servant he would hopefully possess after this. He sped through his dungeon collecting the Aether and Potential of all the fallen invaders. By the time he finished, there was a massive flow of Aether heading towards his funnel and down to his Core.

It was the Divine Potential, though, that he was after. Trik’Weri had hinted that that was what he needed but he was sure that what he had wasn’t nearly enough to claim the creature. Even after absorbing the different invaders, he had only gained a little over a thousand potential. Considering his creator had given him over five thousand, if the price for claiming this Legendary invader was even half that he wouldn’t have enough.

He quickly moved to observe the battle where he found a desperate struggle taking place. The Fomorian Stalkers had gotten involved and their attacks seemed to slow the creature’s regeneration considerably. The Wyvres were doing their jobs as well, holding down the creature and tearing chunks out with their strong jaws.

It was the rats, though, that surprised him the most. They hadn’t retreated or scattered. In fact, they had rallied around a singular rat whose eyes sparked with green lightning. He wondered at that even as the rat seemed to gather energy from bundles nearby with a few other rats and sent a beam of crackling green-blue lightning at the invader. The smell of burnt fur pervaded the room as the invader screeched in pain.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Its eyes flared ruby red and the blood of fallen creatures began to flow into its body, healing it at a rapid pace. In the same motion, it punched out with its clawed hands ripping into the Wyvres around it and absorbing their blood as well. Valterra could figure out the result on his own. The Wyvres were falling as the creature tore their wings from their bodies or threw them against the walls with sickening cracks.

They would heal and regenerate eventually but only if they could keep their blood and the invader would continue to draw it from them until they were spent. With their blood supplementing its already enhanced regeneration the invader would be unkillable. It would only be a matter of time until the rats were killed and without them distracting the invader, the Fomorians would be next. After that, there would be very little keeping the invader from taking his Core.

It was time to act.

The first thing Valterra did was find his Third Floor guardian and found it trying to squeeze its way through the Dungeon in between the walls headed for the invader’s path of destruction. Moving to help he opened a passage through the walls and commanded it to enter.

The two-foot snake slithered forward rapidly until it came upon the battle. Commanding his creatures Valterra watched as they collapsed upon the invader. His three remaining functional Wyvres fell on the creature from above even as the Fomorians trapped its limbs in shadowy chains. The rats retreated and watched. They weren’t his and didn’t quite know what was happening. Only the lead rat, the one with the sparking eyes, remained with bundles of spent Aether Stones around it.

The final creature to collapse on the invader was the Emerald Adder, guardian of the Third Floor. It slithered up the invader in a flash of movement before settling in front of it and activating its powers. This was a crucial moment and Valterra channeled his Aether to funnel into his guardian in order to boost its power.

He sighed in momentary relief as the invader sagged in the grip of his creatures. He took a moment to center himself before gathering his will and pushed his Aether forward to claim the creature. The Aether flooded it like a cresting wave and he felt it push out the foul twisted Aether the creature had before. He could feel it within the creature as it mapped out its Aether Conduits. He pushed more and more inside washing away the filth until he slammed into another force coming the opposite way.

The sheer malevolence of the thing stunned Valterra for a moment but he shook it off and pressed harder. He still lost ground. He struggled to do more but it wasn’t until he really examined the other force that he understood. He was fighting against whatever twisted Divinity protecting the creature from being claimed.

Gathering his Divine Potential Valterra used it like a drill and began penetrating deeper, using Aether and Potential both to push the foul presence away. It was strong but lacking in intelligence. Valterra learned more and more as he dove deeper. Whatever this presence was it no longer existed physically. It was more like a miasma that coated the creature.

It took a long time but eventually, he reached the source. Where the creature’s spark should be was a shattered gemstone. Traces of Spark Essence flickered between the pieces like static electricity and Valterra realized that the creature’s spark was contained within. The miasma was strongest here and it lashed out at Valterra’s presence like a wounded animal.

Valterra reached for more Potential to drive it out for good but felt his reserves drying up. He had been correct, he didn’t have enough to claim it. He growled and attempted to try anyway and came up short as the miasma fought him tooth and nail.

The Dungeon Core sighed and reached into the part of his soul where Trik’Weri had left a connection, like a parcel waiting to be opened. He looked at it for a moment before sighing again and opening it. The flood of Divine Potential that slammed into him was staggering and he quickly directed it from his Core to the invader he was trying to claim.

It rushed through the connection he had made before colliding with the miasma clustered around the shards. It gave ground, howling as it went until it was scoured completely from the creature. Its spark fluttered weakly as the miasma left and Valterra hurried to control the Potential, forcing it to piece the shards back into a full gemstone.

Piece by piece he rebuilt it until it shone fully complete. He then did what the miasma had done previously and marked it with his presence signifying that it was his. What he didn’t expect was for a good chunk of the potential to burst out of his Core and flood elsewhere, outside of his Dungeon to somewhere nearby.

He pulled out of the creature only to watch it slump to the ground even as his awareness took in a multitude of signatures outside his Dungeon. He flexed his will at them and watched, stunned, as other creatures like the invader, stumbled out of the woods around the cabin and entered his Dungeon’s domain. His system was going insane with notifications but he really only had eyes for one of them.

Congratulations, Valterra Unok’Davaas!

You have claimed or created your very first Sapient Lifeform!

The previously Fallen Race -> Fomorians -> Have been claimed as your own.

As a Dungeon Core, they have been integrated into your Dungeon but are connected to you via your divinity. As free sapient creatures, they may disobey your commands but are also subject to punishment if they do so. It is up to you how benevolent of a god you wish to be.

Valterra’s eyes widened. His Dungeon was partially destroyed and he had lost many of his creatures but apparently, he was a god now and he had survived. ‘I wonder what the uncles and aunts are going to think about this.’