After reflecting on my blunders for a while, I urge my foggy consciousness to focus once again. I've grown dependent on having mana inside my core to support my attention, and almost reaching 0 sent me once again deep within a contemplative mentality.
It's not a bad thing. I know that. I've learned much about my current self within these few hours, but staying like this would only go against what I realized.
I want to spend more attention on my dungeon. I want to discover as much as I can about the world and my creatures. I want to give them a worthy Life as well. Make decisions for them when I think it would be the right choice.
However, to avoid obvious mistakes, I have to know as much as possible. To do all of these things, I have to think, stay in the present, and truly spend some time following their lives within my domain.
So, while waiting for my mana to regenerate, I do exactly that.
And as I sweep my consciousness inside the tunnel, something immediately grabs my attention. I have more than 7 Natatory Wasps.
I didn't even realize some of the grubs were inside their cocoons, and one of them already became an adult Wasp.
The dungeon-born adult female is darker, almost black, rather sinister, and slender. While its stinger is shorter and thinner, its claws and mandibles are much sharper than the Wasps I created with mana.
Strangely, the change in dimensions doesn't make it any less deadly. On the contrary, as I observe it, it flies within the tunnel uncontested, and with incredible agility and reflexes, it catches anything that moves inside the Moss.
Which should not be possible. Twitchy and her siblings were not this fast and skillful even after ten days of experience.
While I could credit that to the strange dynamic of being naturally dungeon-born, that cannot make up for the lack of experience in hunting and flying, not this much. I know it was only a grub until a few hours ago, yet it is moving as if it has flown and hunted small insects for longer than every Wasp in the dungeon, alive or dead.
I can see that, and I don't have any experience with flying or hunting at all.
Curious, I observe the new dungeon-born Wasp as it terrorizes small insects and spiders. Yet, it doesn't seem that different from the others I made. It's not using mana right now, nor does it have new organs that the other Wasps do not have.
Strange.
After a few more minutes, the creature suddenly ends its pursuit of prey and flies back to the nest, its mouth full. As it enters the sinister dark blue hole, tendrils of mana envelop the new member of the swarm like a new mother embracing a pup.
I don't understand what I am sensing.
The intricate attuned mana is rushing within and without the Wasp but is not doing anything to the creature. Mana flows through the nest's walls like veins on a leaf and ends up inside the creature's body, the lines brighter even outside the magical spectrum. It is as if the nest is alive, which is not possible. Even my instincts as a dungeon core reassure me it isn't a creature. However, that makes what is happening even more confusing.
While I think about the odd situation, the dungeon-born Wasp moves deep within its home and reaches the grubs. After checking on them, it chews in place for a bit and regurgitates the small prey to the demanding larva, which eats them with gluttony. After making sure the grub is satisfied, the adult Wasp steps away and feeds the other grubs as well. One by one, everything it caught goes to the squirming pale blue larvae.
After attending the grubs, the Wasp feeds on transparent bubbles the squirmy small creatures push out of their mouth. Why would the Wasp nourish the larvae and then eat what the grubs regurgitate? I check on the older Wasps, and they are doing the same as well. This is not a strange thing that only the dungeon-born does.
Maybe they always did it, and I never paid attention to it? Why, though?
One cocoon stirs, catching my attention, and I use every bit of my focus to observe it. Mana flows converge on the dark blue sealed silk, and after a few minutes, another adult dungeon-born Wasp joins the swarm. Claw by claw, the newborn creatures emerge. While all grubs have small tiny mandibles that they use to call for food, the now full adult Wasp has sharp and jagged jaws to slice through its cocoon.
This time, I follow the currents of mana as they travel within the nest, constantly swirling inside all the mature Wasps, cocoons, grubs, and even eggs. This Attuned mana is so subtle and ethereal that I would have missed without seeing it in action with all my consciousness. I probably did since the nest has been here for days, yet I never noticed anything.
Before I start some tests, I observe the newborn Wasp. After it stretches its limbs and wings, I am not surprised when it moves toward the nest's opening with no hesitation, as if it already has some experience with its body and the world outside. Next, it starts to fly inside the tunnel and skillfully catches flying insects and spiders.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Something is going on with my dungeon-born Wasps.
The only hint I have is the odd mana flows inside the nest, and I immediately try to reproduce them as I did with the other elements. However, after a few tries with my full consciousness struggling on the task, I have to give up. Even with an example within my perception, the attunement is on another level altogether. I am sure it would be faster to understand Dark mana than this one, even if I have only a vague memory of it from the snake.
It is so complex it would probably take decades to grasp. For now, I cannot waste all that time on something like this.
I watch the colony for a few more hours, and after witnessing another two Wasps come out of the cocoon and do the same thing as the others, I move my attention elsewhere. The Common creatures don't seem to have any problems and are growing rapidly. They have everything under control without my help.
I feel my consciousness stabilize once again, and even without checking, I know my mana reached 10 units.
Instead of starting the expansion inside the waters again, I sweep my senses on the tunnel full of Luminous Moss and mundane creatures, and I rather quickly notice a problem. Some species of insects and spiders are dying out, while others are thriving instead. The reason is obvious as well. So much so that I have to force myself to get over the annoyance and not spiral into frustration for making another blatant mistake again.
The wood is smooth under the Moss, without nooks and crevices where the mundane animals can hide or deposit their eggs. Only the ones who can reproduce without laying external eggs or have some means of defending them while they are exposed can ensure the survival of their future generations. Which is not a good thing since I want as much diversity inside my dungeon as possible. Even if they are mundane creatures, they are Life as well.
This will waste a few days, but my plans for the waters are not ready anyway, and this tunnel is still the start for my developing food chain. While making sure the Resonating Lianas are growing and proliferating inside the waters without any trouble, I start to carve into my old trunk to create small cracks where the tiny insects can hide and breed without fear.
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Three days go by in a flash as I create as many nests and shelters for the mundane insects and spiders as possible. I thought I would dislike the task since I am slowing down my plans and progress inside the waters. However, seeing the tiny crawlers hurry inside the new cracks, relaxing after hunting in a safe space, or taking care of their eggs, is strangely comforting. In a way, right now, I am not different from them. I have to keep myself hidden since my core is vulnerable without a solid trunk to protect it.
After finishing a large number of shelters inside the tunnel, I start to grow my domain within the muddy water again. It's not completely efficient, but I divide a small fragment of my consciousness and let it create cracks on the wood inside the water. I want to give a safe space to the tiny aquatic creatures as well.
After gaining the Trait Throughout abundance, the population of small prey soared inside that part of my domain too, and the excess slowly attracted hungry monsters of all kinds. With the Moss, Lianas, and mundane creatures help, they are more noticeable, but most of the time, they are still only blurry shapes.
This part of the plan might have been more efficient with the Bright Slugs, but the surprise of the Trait somewhat made up for it.
Since the mundane creatures inside the tunnel have a way to hide now, the Wasps are finding it harder and harder to snatch enough of them to feed the whole colony. After these three days, at least fifty Wasps came out of their blue cocoons, and the Queen never stopped laying even more eggs in all this time. I doubt she is going to stop anytime soon.
When I saw the new dungeon-born Wasps emerge from their cocoons, I sent a message to all my creatures to avoid going inside the waters; without their full strength, I doubt they would have any chance there as it is. And if all the workers feeding the grubs died one by one, the colony would have been in danger. At that point, to save it, I would have had to use days of mana regeneration to create new ones, and I want to avoid introducing new Wasps without knowing anything about the strange mana flows. The impact it has on all the newborn Wasps is incredible, and ruining it would be a disaster.
However, now that the colony can sustain itself without my help, it is time to let them do as they wish again.
As I send the message, the closer one immediately flies upward to investigate.
The Wasp easily navigates inside the thick vines, and after a few meters of sneaking through them, my defender pokes its head while keeping most of its body inside the blue plants.
Chaos greets the Common creature.
With the addition of my own creatures and the Trait's influence, in a few days, the waters went from a serene and peaceful environment to a pure expression of Life's struggle and growth.
Insects desperately rush everywhere while tiny fishes feed on them. Blurry plump shapes sneak through the vines and grab everything they see, while what I am pretty sure is a Dark-Attuned snake lurks in wait.
The scout's antennae twitch within the waters, and after a few minutes, the Wasp turns around and races to the nest.
I am left wondering if the chaos was too much for the fearless Common creature.
While I start to doubt their ferocity and hunger, the Wasp flies through the dark opening, and, as it did every time in these few days, the unknown attuned mana greets the creature while flowing inside its body. The mana swirls within its body for a while before coming out and flooding inside the nest. Quickly after, almost every adult Wasp awakens and swarms outside in a rush.
As they get out, the buzz of their wings flapping echo throughout the whole tunnel, and all the mundane creatures quickly disappear inside the new crevices or thick Moss when the sound reaches them. Ambient mana twists around the swarm of thirty Wasps as they fly upwards together like this for the first time in the colony's life. Their movements are synchronized as they rush toward the waters, and there is nothing inside this portion of my dungeon that can stop them.
I was wrong. There is nothing that can scare the greedy and hungry little creatures.
It's clear they are going to war.
For the second time since I evolved, my Wasps are about to experience struggle and survival. This time they are much more prepared, but their competitors have increased as well.