Day 21
My smile remained in place despite Tony’s hostage attempt. The look in his eyes reminded me of Rong Da. Even in this battle, there was a chance I could lose, and it wasn’t that exciting. Veronica was my next selection Gwen didn’t change that. She would kick Gwen until the doe stopped moving. I felt my heart clench, and a pit opened in my gut, but I refused to show weakness.
Gwen appeared when Tony tapped his monster bag, and it was like no time had passed at all. She was so close, but her eyes were set, and Tony’s filthy tamer skills were psychically in her mind. I felt them like slimy tentacles slipping through flesh and bone to invade her thoughts and memories. To think I wanted to be a tamer.
Across from me, the team of mercenaries had moved away from Tony, positioning themselves as if to say they weren’t with him. I wanted to say they were lying, but Scout had the decency to keep his skills to himself. Tony’s skills were all over the place, sneaking beyond my wall and searching for more targets.
If this was what a tamer was, then what was I even fighting for. A part of me wanted to cut Tony down and never give him the chance to hurt one of my monsters again. The logical part that planned and had an idea of the best outcome wanted to lead the group into the dungeon and kill them there.
Veronica jumped over the gate wearing a full-body robe of spider silk covered in small runes. Ada had come through with her enchanting. When the tendrils slithered toward Veronica, they melted upon the battle chicken’s telepathic barrier. Boosted Willpower helped.
Fu’s sisters were busy filling the needs of thousands while I stalled outside the gate. No matter what I did, short of killing my guests in cold blood, the tamer skills would infect the crowd. Getting Gwen back wouldn’t remove the damage done. That would take telepathic finesse I didn’t have. It was easier to destroy than create.
“My skill isn’t working; you did something. That monster isn’t a maneater or a chimera rabbit; it shouldn’t have telepathy or any psychic skills. Most of them are meat heads or chicken tenders.” Tony said.
“Sandy make this guy’s life a nightmare and struggle to the bitter end. Don’t let him knock you out, win, or force him to kill you.” Tony said.
Gwen’s eyes hardened as the tendrils of Tony’s skill wiggled and pressed, forcing Gwen to obey the order. Every twitch sounded off my Telepathy and Psychic skills, showing me a mental image I didn’t want to see.
Words escaped me. I wanted to throw my chainsword and impale the tamer. The wind picked up, but I refused to be baited. Turning this into a fight to the death would ensure the Graves family sought retribution. Tony had a grandfather, the first tamer in his lineage, who became a Senator. With that man still alive, I didn’t like my chances of getting off if I killed him outside a dungeon.
From what I could tell from Tony’s reports and the letter from the research center, everyone thought Tony was only doing his job. Win or lose this confrontation Tony has set me up to come out of this smelling like roses. At a casual glance, I was only a farmer who lucked out on a dungeon surge with intelligent monsters who had no desire to kill me. There were historical precedents for my situation.
Veronica stood tall, nearly 7ft in her robe, wide hips swaying and tail feathers up. A swift blow tossed Gwen in the air before she could bring her skills to bear.
“Don’t give up; make this painful for him. Remember who he is to you and then forget again.”
“Atom,” tears dripped down my cheeks, but I never lost my smile. “I felt like I’ve been trapped inside my head.” She crashed hard against the ground.
“I said remember why aren’t you bleating. Show this peasant that winning against me comes at a cost.”
“You’re right,” I said.
“Too late to beg, but if you get on your knees, I’ll let you hold her; just call off your monster and forfeit this battle,” Tony said.
No one would bat an eye if Tony Graves, the mediocre tamer who lucked out with a lab assistant job, died taking on a task he wasn’t trained for. His job was only to take readings of the dungeon, not steal it out from under the owner or steal monsters from my land with tamer skills. Unfortunately, this was par for the course for a farmer. The class was used to punish nobility and toughen up members of wealthy families.
My telepathic area had expanded greatly since leaving the dungeon. Skill levels helped and so too did training my Willpower with Isobel. I learned how to use my skills in ways I would have never thought of before.
Tony’s tentacles were only lightly inside Gwen when I used fell energy to cut them. My mental shovel became a blade.
Blood poured from Tony’s nose, falling on his official lab assistant coat. Fell-type monsters were naturally immune to all but the highest-level tamer skills, and Tony wasn’t close to level 50 in his skills, I was certain. He looked at me, shocked and, dare I think it, terrified.
“Don’t let him,” I took hold of the tendrils and gently pulled. “Forget him; you love me and only me. I’m your only tamer; you’ll never get over me. You would die before letting him be your anything. Hate him with all of your being.” The last of the tendrils fell away and I cut the rest that came Gwen’s way with fell blades.
Gwen met my gaze. Her mind felt so fragile. “I forfeit,” Gwen said.
Tony wasn’t dead, Gwen might be fine after waking up, and I learned tamer skills could be cut with fell energy.
“You can’t. I won’t let you.” Tony said.
“I accept. As part of hospitality, no tamer skills may be used on my property.”
“That is acceptable; now, can we leave this nonsense behind us.”
“Let's accept guest rights and leave Tony behind. I don’t think he’ll be much use to us anymore. After all, we are here to dive your dungeon.” Meng Bai said.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“No, I hired you to help me take the dungeon for the research center. We have a contract.” Tony said.
“After this display, I must remind you of an exit clause. So long as you ask us to do nothing dishonorable, we will remain loyal to our contractor. I believe you have broken the spirit of that clause with your actions, if not the wording. We have no use of iron if silver works better.” Ms. Birdmask said.
“The deal was for hospitality for all of us. You said property, but no one owns the inside of a dungeon. I’ll recruit a monster inside to fight for us. I’m still useful.” Tony said.
I looked between Tony and the distant group. It was clear he had shown himself to be a liability but didn’t want to go back empty-handed.
“That was the deal, or will you give Sandy back to me,” Tony said.
“Come and take her,” I said.
My smile dropped, and I saw it; then Tony believed he had won. The other group looked like they came to a realization about the situation and I couldn’t be bothered with them. Gwen needed my care and attention. They apparently wanted to do multiple runs, so I was willing to let them.
“We will keep our skills to ourselves while behind your walls.” The bowman gave Tony a hard look before facing me again. “That was an impressive battle are all monsters in the dungeon that strong.”
“Only on the first floor. I haven’t explored the second floor.” I left off the word yet, and Scout only nodded in confirmation.
“My name’s Martin Luther. I’m not sure if we were introduced. I’m the battle mage of the party; those are some impressive enchantments. Did you hire a certified enchanter? I would like to talk shop with a fellow practitioner.” Martin said.
It hit me then that I would have to play host to these mercenaries from Easton and three of my countrymen.
“That will have to wait until the bread-breaking ceremony. I’m afraid the only thing I have in abundance is corn and peppers. So, I hope you like your bread spicy.” I said.
“Corn, do you make any whiskey.” Meng Bai asked.
“I’m afraid I haven’t had the time to explore everything I can do with rank 2 corn,” I said.
Tony snorted but said nothing. Gwen rested in my arms, protected from any hostile skills. There was no way I would allow any further harm to come to her.
“Open,” I said, and the gate swung open with little fanfare.”
“Even the monster gate is a telepath. You are certainly free with skill shards. Do you run teams of battle chickens into the dungeon to retrieve the loot?” Martin asked.
“It is an effective way to gather loot.”
Tony’s teeth ground together; it was a shame I couldn’t grind his guts into mush with my chainsword.
The money went over easily to my account. It hardly mattered 50,000W wasn’t much to me after selling so many battle chicken eggs. The market was still in high demand. I had been too optimistic that selling our small shipment of eggs would make a dent in the market. Our sales were just another drop in the bucket for the rising demand. As it turned out, rank 2 chicken monster eggs could grant certain monsters 2 attribute points from a single meal by adding the ingredients by a chef. If prepared by a chef, even humans could benefit at around 1/10 of a monster.
I had an idea where I could find one since I was free to leave my property with my debt cleared. We needed a building planner, architect, stone mason, and a cook. That was just to get started. I knew just the place, a city named Babel in the Canite territory West of here. Big cities were filled with talented people with crushed dreams struggling to find work and burned out in the big city. A few Westons to the right, starving homeless higher education graduates would get me everywhere. All I had to do was take care of my current guests.
“This is it: leather tents, chicken feces everywhere, and corn. You are the worst; my monsters might never recover because you think your room and board is worth 10,000W a person.”
When we passed by a massive sun-yellow-leaved tree with sky-blue bark and low-hanging golden fruit, no one could keep their eyes off of it.
“Well, over there, you can see some peach trees coming in, and if any of you touch my Seelie tree, I will take the offending hand.”
It was the seed from the dungeon, and it was a rare and powerful tree if given the opportunity to grow. Each fruit it bore could potentially increase an attribute if eaten at the right time. Fortunately, when eaten at the wrong time, it inflicted a curse on the offending target; only silver unicorns and other monsters like them could reliably pick the fruit. They had to be specially trained for the task.
“My teacher would say to pick one and let fortune decide if you are right.” Ms. Birdmask said.
“That is such an Easton thing to say; could you say it in your native language.” She repeated it. “I wish I could hear it without the mask and voice scrambler. Do you sing? I know that it’s rude of me to ask of a guest. I had to leave my personal possessions, and I only recently gained enough money to think about restoring my collection.” I said.
“What makes you think he is a woman?” Martin asked.
“She tries too hard to be mysterious. Women love being mysterious and keeping men guessing.” I said.
“So you like Easton music; what kind of artists do you listen to? I bet I’ve been to their concerts.” Meng Bai said.
We fell into chatter as we approached my tent, and my telepathic field slowly encompassed my territory. I gently laid Gwen down.
“Isobel, guard her and inform me when she wakes. I have guests to entertain.” My bunny girl nodded and I was free to once more focus my attention.
Some of these mercenaries didn’t seem like bad people. Bad company aside, I could get along with them, even Scout, if he kept his slimy tamer skills limited to his own monsters. Not every monster could be reasoned with, and my family was full of tamers. I wanted to be one. Being torn between an ideal and common sense was tough.
Tony was definitely going to die in the dungeon that was set in stone. Even if the silent sour, faced man turned whatever charm he might posses to max, I would still take his head and mount it on a spike. I was itching to make a move.
“Will you show us the dungeon now?” Ms. Birdmask asked.
“Sure, that was the deal, and you already paid. Remember to eat and drink your fill before entering the dungeon. I saw a lake of blood inside, and I doubt it's safe to drink.” I said.
“A whole lake of blood. Was there a castle and a low-hanging moon?” Meng Bai asked.
“I found the aesthetics pleasing if a bit edgy,” I said with a shrug.
Fighting atop the bloody lake’s surface was a blast. “Anything we should know about the monsters in that area. Or do you hope we kill ourselves inside?” Tony said.
Imagining Tony getting skewered by a giant mosquito was not as satisfying as doing the killing myself. We walked down the path to the dungeon.
“The lake is filled with giant lamprey, and there were monsters everywhere.” I shrugged. “It’s a dungeon; what do you expect. Don’t separate your party, keep your head, and don’t take on more than you can handle, and you should be found. This isn’t new information; who hasn’t read the basics of dungeon diving at least once?”
Meng Bai raised his hand and smiled even as it shook. “Put your hand down. I was being sarcastic. Was there an Easton equivalent? Ms. Birdmask seems to have read it.”
“Our dungeons are called hidden realms, and our instructions were different. They say to break apart and find as many hidden treasures as possible before our rivals get the chance. We should only team up with those far beneath us and use them to harvest more treasure but never trust them not to sneak the best for themselves.” Meng Bai said.
“Huh, that will get you killed in our dungeons. Going in alone means you are never safe. The moment you stop moving, you will die.” I said.
“Don’t worry, we know how to work as a three-man team with Scout’s monsters to fill any role we need. With Tony, we have more opportunities to adapt to the dungeon by recruiting monsters inside. Could we borrow a monster from your tribe?” Martin asked.
“There are plenty of battle chickens inside if you need them. Some even have armor, weapons, and mounts.” I said as the dungeon entrance came into view.
I wasn’t sure if I would kill them immediately or let them fall into a false sense of security. Soon, the feeling of my telepathy would be as normal as their own heartbeats.
“What in the Kaiju is that?” Tony asked.
“The dungeon entrance seems to have grown lips,” I said.
“I’m more concerned about the hair,” Martin said.
“That isn’t a monster; it really is the dungeon entrance,” Scout said.
I noticed that more strands of muscle had grown along the dungeon’s jaw, its tongue was a healthier color, and the teeth growing from its gums were a little straighter. Otherwise, not much had changed since I last entered.
“Dungeons don’t look like this; they are holes in the ground, grand entrances, or staircases into the heavens. This is a head; did someone bury a giantess.” Tony said.
“I’m not going in there. I need to report this to my superiors. Sell it to us. I don’t care about the price; this hasn’t been seen before. I don’t know if it was the fell energy or sudden influx of mana to a barren land, but this isn’t normal.” Tony said.
“So now you want to do your job,” I said.
“This is bigger than you and me,” Tony said.
How could this fool continue to babble and search for common ground?
I grabbed him by his lab coat, lifted him off his feet, and shook him. “This is what your feces-spewing mouth has bought you. Go in or don’t. I’ve been paid. Enjoy the dungeon; I have cornbread to make.” I said.
“I know this is sudden, but we would like a guide.” Ms. Birdmask said.
My hand released the annoying tamer.
“Hosts are not expected to guide you through a dungeon; besides, it wouldn’t do you any good,” I said.
“Who are you to say that farmer?” Scout asked.
I sighed and closed my eyes. “You’re right; all of you have already waived liability; go nuts, have fun in the dungeon. The first floor only has a few tens of thousands of monsters on it, about 6 mid-bosses, and a single main boss. Clearing it shouldn’t take a team more than 6 hours if you’re careful.” I said.
“You seem so experienced; why do you think you won’t be any help?” Meng Bai asked.
“Because this dungeon is young.” Ms. Birdmask said.
I nodded. “Look at you, solving life’s great puzzles. I’ve been in the dungeon four or five times, and it's never been the same. It has been settling, I think, but not by much. Bosses are the only part of the dungeon that has any sort of consistency. But don’t worry since I’m playing host. If you aren’t out in, let's say, 6 hours, that’s twelve inside, then I’ll come looking for you.” I said.
“Today, I only plan to scout a small area and retreat. Again, your presence would make us feel safer. Why wouldn’t you go in with a team at your back unless this is a trap,” Ms. Birdmask said.
“Fine, if you really want my help. First dibs on loot drops.” I said.