Ogre Tyrant

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 68 – Master of Dungeons – Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 68 - Master of Dungeons - Part One

The Dwergi had kept to their word and were making significant headway in both the constructions of their city and the grounds of the arena above. Sufficient progress had been made in constructing the arena to allow exhibition matches between the more eager and highly qualified contestants enrolled in the champion selection tournament. However, due to the exhibition matches not being an official part of my selection tournament, I had left the physical rewards of the exhibition matches to the Factions involved.

Much to my surprise, the Dwergi had managed to convince Ril to create a Gateway for their city and connect it to the greater network. In my conservative estimation, they had jumped the queue by several dozen places.

I imagined that successfully bribing Ril was quite the feat since no one else had managed to do the same.

Returning to The Grove, I found that I had company.

Upon realising he had my attention. Zod, one of the smaller one-horned Daemons, smiled and made a formal bow, flourishing his scholarly robes. “Good day, my Tyrant! I, ah, I was hoping that I might take a small measure of your time to raise my concerns regarding your Labyrinth?” Similar to Wraithe, Zod had several prominent rodent features which made his nervousness all the more difficult to ignore.

“Concerns?” I motioned for Zod to continue.

Most of the Daemons had found their niche and were doing incredibly well for themselves due to their obsessive nature and compulsion to improve the subject of their focus. With that in mind, I was interested to hear what Zod had to say.

Reassured, Zod nodded emphatically. “Mrmrm-Indeed my Tyrant! It is most inefficient! And it is not fulfilling its core purpose!” He said the last with visible scorn and flattened his ears disapprovingly. “The mindless monsters simply wander about, waiting for slaughter, and the hatchlings have grown lazy. They know where the danger lies and have lost all fear! Without their fear, the hatchlings are easy prey for the stronger monsters! This simply will not do! Eh...Ah, that is to say, that I believe the Tyrant should reconsider...” Zod lost his nerve and chittered nervously.

“You’re saying the predictability of the open fields leaves the newcomers unprepared to face higher-level monsters?” I asked, wanting to make sure I understood the issue correctly.

“Mrmrm-Precisely!” Zod squeaked with relief. No doubt, he had expected I would take offence at the indirect criticism.

“What would you change to address the problem?” I asked. It was obvious that Zod had some ideas already, so I saw little point in delaying the subject.

“Mrmrm-Everything!” Zod exclaimed, seemingly unable to hold himself back any longer but immediately regretting his actions. “Eep...I erm, that is to say...Many areas could be improved?” He shifted anxiously from paw to paw, whiskers aquiver.

I fought back the urge to laugh and motioned for Zod to continue.

“Mrmrm-Dungeons!” Zod Squeaked excitedly, “I would make Dungeons!”

I had been indulging Zod up until this moment, but now he had my attention. “Go on,” I prompted.

“I would make Dungeons! My Tyrant! Dungeons to teach hatchlings about danger! Dungeons to teach hatchlings fear!” Zod’s small beady eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement. “Traps, tunnels, ambushes, RIDDLES!!! I would teach them to be prepared for everything!”

“Do you mean, using the Dungeons as a sort of graduation requirement for accessing the higher floors?” I asked cautiously, “Or, replacing the floors with dungeons outright?” It was a simple enough question, but the distinction made a great deal of difference.

“Mrmrm-With your permission, my Tyrant, I would do both!” Zod withdrew a thickly folded piece of paper from his robes. With long trembling fingers, he carefully unfolded the paper over a dozen times to reveal a detailed architectural diagram. “The plans for the first-floor dungeon!” Zod proclaimed with immense pride.

The open grounds remained divided into respective difficulties based on the level of the monsters and the provisional space for a basecamp and entrance to the dungeon. However, the subterranean layer of the first floor had been subsumed by twisting tunnels, corridors and chambers of various sizes. Several exit locations were scattered throughout the Dungeon and, according to Zod’s notes, afforded a different score to the ‘Delvers’ based on the difficulty assigned to reaching each exit.

“Delvers, that’s your name for the adventurers?” I queried.

Zod nodded emphatically, “Mrmrm-A new identity is essential! It provides purpose and direction! Allows the establishment of new authority!”

“They will question your rating system less if it is part of a larger restructuring...” I nodded in appreciation. “Not everyone will agree, but most will go along to get along, and once the majority takes to the changes, the remainder will follow. Or something like that?”

“Mrmrm-Yes-yes!” Zod confirmed gleefully.

“Progression-based rankings would make it easier to integrate the Cultivators...” I paused upon realising that Zod likely had no idea who I was talking about.

“Cultivators?” Zod tilted his head to one side and his tail twitched with uncertainty.

I gave Zod a slightly paraphrased explanation of the Cultivators and my understanding of their capabilities. All the while emphasising how little we currently knew for certain.

“I...I see...” Zod shifted to and fro in uneasy silence for several minutes before seeming to come to a decision. “With all due respect, my Tyrant, I think you are correct. However, the Cultivators will need access to an entirely different Labyrinth...Can they even benefit from Synergies?”

“That...That’s a very good point...” I had checked to see if their Racial Ability had been capable of Synergising with myself, Gric and Sebet, but not the other way around. “One moment...”

Zod bowed respectfully and made a show of making sure I had as long as I wanted.

Gathering some MP I Summoned a projection of Zhu Wen to stand a short distance from Zod.

Zhu Wen moved to bow low out of reflex but stopped short. Eyes wide with awe and wonder, he stumbled backwards and very nearly tripped over Zod’s tail. “So much energy...” He whispered hoarsely.

“This is a Cultivator?” Zod asked, sniffing at the newcomer inquisitively while taking in his strange attire.

“A beginner,” I insisted, somewhat distracted by inspecting Zhu Wen’s information.

“My Tyrant?” Zod sounded concerned which set off silent alarm bells in my mind.

“What is it?” I cast out my authority to actively detect potential threats.

“Is the Summon meant to gather mana like this?” Zod pointed a hooked claw at Zhu Wen’s back.

“What?” Turning my attention toward Zhu Wen’s projection, it took me a few moments to confirm Zod’s claim for myself.

Somehow, Zhu Wen’s projection had become entirely self-sustaining.

Concentrating further, I realised mana was actively being drawn toward him. However, only a small portion of the mana was being actively consumed. The remainder appeared to be lingering just long enough to maintain a certain concentration before dispersing again.

As best as I could tell, the circulation was entirely in sync with Zhu Wen’s breathing. Breathing in drew the mana in and breathing out dispersed it or otherwise sent it away.

“I can feel the energy...But I cannot internalise it...” Zhu Wen muttered distractedly to himself. “Unless?” He abruptly sat down in the mud and settled into what I assumed was one of his newly learned Cultivator Techniques.

The effects of his breathing intensified almost immediately. The mana concentration in his vicinity ebbed and flowed like tidal waves, reaching intensities that left me giddy and light-headed.

“Mrmrm-Astounding!!!” Zod shrieked, hopping animatedly to and fro in his excitement. “To actively gather such concentrations of mana without consuming it!” The gnarled horn protruding from his left temple had taken on a faint inky-blue light that stood in stark contrast against the dark blue, almost black, of his hide and fur.

I was inclined to agree. However, I had noticed there was more to it than I had first realised.

I had Summoned a Cultivator using MP, and the projection had been created with a proportionately small amount of Chi. Not only did this demonstrate strange compatibility between the two systems that I hadn’t anticipated, but Zhu Wen’s projection was now actively replenishing his Chi independently in addition to maintaining his form with mana.

Concerned that there may be other unforeseen consequences and factors at play, I cancelled Zhu Wen’s projection.

“Zod, did you see where Zhu Wen was drawing the energy from?” With access to Daemons who could see the flow of mana, it would have been stupid to overlook his opinion.

“Mrmrm-The Cultivator had tapped into the Dryad’s root network!” Zod exclaimed fervently. “Mrmrm-He was intercepting energy intended for The Grove!”

I fought the urge to wince. Messing with the trees in The Grove was a big deal. It went against one of only a handful of promises I had made to Hana shortly after she created The Grove in the first place.

Looking out over the lake, I found Hana steadily paddling her way across the water atop a giant lilypad.

With no doubts in my mind regarding why she was headed in our direction, I released a deep sigh and mentally prepared myself for the worst.

“I will give your proposal serious consideration, Zod, but I think it would be best if you were to leave,” I advised, exercising my authority and sending Zod and his carefully laid plans a safe distance away.

Due to her height and natural grace, it was difficult to tell if Hana was actually rushing in my direction or simply making good time as a result of good form. However, as she drew closer, I was surprised to find that Hana didn’t look upset at all.

“Who was that you were meeting with?” Hana asked curiously. “I have not sensed their presence within The Grove before.”

“Zhu Wen? He is one of the new arrivals,” I replied evenly. Somewhat thrown off guard by Hana’s unexpectedly mild reaction.

Hana crouched low and ran her hand through the grass. “Do you feel it?” She asked quietly, staring intently at the ground.

“Feel what?” The mana was so dense that I was having difficulty sensing anything else.

“It’s...different...” Hana gracefully flourished her hand and the grass surged with new life, growing several times its original size in a handful of seconds. “Do you feel it now?” Hana asked quietly.

Very nearly replying in the negative, I paused upon recognising the familiar energy contained within the Divine Patriarch’s store of crystals. “This is the internal energy from the other system,” I replied confidently. It was incredibly faint, and difficult to detect through the ambient mana, but impossible to ignore once I had identified it.

“Other System?” Hana made no attempts at hiding her confusion, and it served as a reminder that even those considered to be members of my inner circle were not necessarily up to date on current events.

I spent twenty minutes doing my best to explain things in a way that Hana would be able to understand and pass along to her sister. She understood the general concepts easily enough, but Hana’s true focus was on their alternative form of mana.

“So, this internal energy, is what I am sensing?” Hana asked somewhat distractedly as she coaxed the grass into producing seeds.

“I think so...” I was reasonably confident that was the case, but pretending to be an authority on the matter would be beyond arrogant at this point.

“And these other Humans, the Cultivators, absorb the internal energy and convert it into a different internal energy and Chi?” Hana stored the seeds away within a hide pouch on her belt. “Which you think are equivalent to mana and MP...”

I nodded.

“I think you are right...” Hana murmured, her attention still firmly fixated on the patch of grass. “And this, Zhu Wen, you are certain he is not a Druid?”

“As certain as I can be,” I replied hesitantly, realising that Hana may have uncovered something important. “Why would you think Zhu Wen was a Druid?”

Hana frowned slightly and nodded down at the grass. “He changed the plants...They are still producing mana, but they are producing internal energy as well...I can’t use it to encourage spontaneous growth, but its production scales alongside the growth created through mana...”

“Are you sure the plants weren’t able to do this on their own?” I asked warily. “Maybe they were just reacting to his presence?”

Hana glanced at me incredulously for a moment but quickly became uncertain. “I don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “It’s possible that the grasses were just doing what I had taught them to do...And maybe they were unable to tell the difference between one form of mana and another...”

“Maybe we should investigate their native territories then?” I suggested, after giving it some thought. “If there is some sort of problem, I would prefer to know about it before integrating the territories en masse.”

Hana crossed her arms defensively and bowed her head. She remained silent for quite some time but eventually nodded in agreement. “Alright, but I don’t want to be gone for long...” Hana made a show of staring back at her Heart Tree, one of two colossal willows that dominated the centre of the lake.

Between leaving her sister or her Heart Tree, it was unclear which would cause Hana a greater degree of distress. Knowing this, I had no problems with promising to keep our visit brief.

Relocating the both of us with my authority, we arrived in the middle of a long dirt road. Large fields of wheat on either side of the road waved lazily in the mild breeze.

With the unique vantage afforded by my height, I could make out a village in the distance and several other large fields bearing different crops of vegetables.

Taking the initiative, Hana had already crossed the road and was inspecting the closest immature stalks of wheat. “They contain the same energy,” she announced confidently but with an air of confusion and mild hesitation. “Yet, it is far less than what was present within my grasses...” Hana frowned slightly and gently ran her fingers over the wheatstalk’s leaves. “It shows no problems with accepting my mana and direction...So why is its energy so low?”

I was about to say something but held myself back as Hana began determinedly striding into the wheatfield.

“I sense stronger energy coming from the roots deeper in the field!” Hana called over her shoulder while pointing toward the centre of the field.

Following her progress, I became distracted upon noticing a sizable procession of people rapidly making their way out of the village and headed in my direction.

I had known that my sudden arrival would draw attention. However, I had not expected what appeared to be the entire village to investigate.

Despite technically owning the land we were standing on, I couldn’t help but feel we were trespassing. It was a particularly strange sensation considering I was capable of restructuring and aligning the ground we were standing on at will.

After taking a few moments to use my authority to change into clothing that better suited my status, I mentally prepared myself to explain my presence.

Technically, I didn’t need to explain myself, and I knew I could get away with not doing so. However, I strongly suspected that skulking about the countryside without providing an official explanation would quickly result in a host of rumours to sate public curiosity.

Rumours which would quite possibly damage my reputation in one way or another as happenstance and coincidences were attributed to malevolent intent.

Besides, now that I had been discovered, it felt rude not to acknowledge the locals' potential concerns.

Just because the Labyrinths had branded me a Tyrant, it didn’t mean I had to act like some two-bit third-world dictator.

As the villagers drew closer, their collective momentum decreased until they were barely making any forward progress at all. After what looked like a hurried but intense discussion, an elderly man, probably the village headman or elder made the final approach on his own.

The elderly man stiffly knelt on the road and bowed. “North Village of the Ma provincehumbly greets the Patriarch!” He declared, straining himself to project his thin reedy voice and be heard.

The assembled villagers down the road fell to their knees and bowed on queue, falling only a fraction of a second behind their elder.

“Thank you for your...prompt welcome,” I did my best to avoid sounding as awkward as I felt but knew I had produced mixed results at best. “Please. Rise. I gain no comfort or satisfaction in seeing my elders suffer such discomfort on my behalf.” In truth, it made me immensely uncomfortable.

The village headman stiffly rose to his feet but had grown immensely anxious.

Had the Cultivators played games along these lines? Playing with the common folk in a sick game of Simon says?

“If it brings you peace of mind, you can consider it an order,” I insisted, only to force down a sudden swell of anger when the command showed immediate signs of alleviating the elder’s anxiety.

“Heavens bless your magnanimity, Patriarch!” The elder’s head remained bowed, although it was unclear whether it was out of respect or fear.

Unsure how I was meant to respond, I decided to spend a few moments checking on Hana’s progress.

To my surprise, Hana appeared to have already satisfied her curiosity in the centre of the wheatfield and was briskly making her way back to the road. She looked perplexed and made it clear that she had something on her mind that she wished to discuss. “There are bodies buried in the fields,” She announced bluntly, motioning back toward the centre of the wheatfield.

It took a few moments for my brain to register what she had said and even now I wasn’t completely sure. “What did you say?” I asked cautiously.

“Under the fields, there are Human bodies,” Hana repeated, elaborating further to compensate for the lack of initial response. “Is this common? Those dwelling within Sanctuary have renewed the soil with the bones of powdered Beasts, but never with their dead...”

“No, Hana...It isn’t common...” I replied quietly, my focus subconsciously shifting to the shivering form of the village headman.

“We are the lifeblood of the Empire...” The headman announced hoarsely, his voice dangerously close to breaking under the weight of the bitterness and sorrow carried by his words. “It is on our backs that the Empire grows strong...It is our lives...the lives of our children...that provide for the Empire’s future...” The Headman lifted his head and stared up at me with tears streaming down his cheeks. “The enforcers claimed ‘this’-” With trembling arms, he waved to the fields on either side of the road and beyond, “-is the will of heaven...” The headman clenched his bony fists so tightly his skin turned bone white. “It is the mandate of heaven that the weak are consumed by the strong...”

I fought hard to keep down the bile rising in my throat.

“The...” My voice cracked and had to take a moment to collect myself. “The enforcers were killing villagers to fertilise the fields?! Why?!”

The headman pointed to the centre of the nearby wheatfield with a violently trembling finger, “They say the crops that feed upon our dead are of higher quality...And the merchants...the merchants always wanted more!...”

I made a mental note to follow up on the claims with Sebet. However, the raw sincerity of the Headman’s hatred and sorrow left me without doubt regarding what he believed to be the truth.

“The Divine Patriarch is dead, and his enforcers are being punished for their crimes. You need not fear their kind again...You have my word.” It was an easy promise to make. I had all the resources I needed and was capable of producing far more.

Factions ‘could’ levy taxes. However, the majority had realised that voluntary contributions in exchange for Exp from quests were far more effective.

Fulfilling my promise to Hana, I returned her to The Grove. We would have the opportunity to speak further later in the evening.

The headman nodded but it was clear that his mind was elsewhere. Given that we were standing within striking distance of multiple mass graves, his distraction seemed appropriate.

“I take no tithe from my subjects...I have no need to do so. Similarly, while this land is under my rule, you are free to make use of it however you see fit...” Although I had not truly expected it, the headman had begun to stir. “If yourself or others wish to rebury the victims, you have my express permission to do so. I...I know that quite some time may have passed, and some may be difficult to identify, locate, or...I have servants who are uniquely suited to provide you with assistance. You need only ask.”

“How...” The headman’s voice cracked and he took several deep breaths. “How much?”

I felt a fresh wave of sympathy for the old man. “There is no price, no debt or indenturement...I just...I can only imagine what you and your people have been through, and I want to help...”

“Then...We will be honoured to accept the Patriarch’s assistance!” The headman bowed low and was quickly joined by the remaining villagers.

Dividing the majority of my MP into three equal parts, I Summoned projections of Sigrun, Kara and Skuld.

Despite being a couple of months old, the three sisters had grown into lanky long-limbed teens and appeared to have modelled their fashion sense after Clarice. Favouring short-sleeved tunics, leather britches and short-cropped hair, the three sisters bore a stronger resemblance to one another than they perhaps should have done. The primary means of telling them apart lay in their choice of tribal warpaint, with Sigrun favouring grey, Kara favouring red, and Skuld favouring blue.

Triplets in name only, the three sisters were hatched from separate eggs and were only sisters because the thought of separating them had seemed cruel.

Like a trio of corvids, the three Valkyrja silently watched the villagers with mostly silent interest. While incapable of initiating telepathy, the Valkyrja could openly speak with one another in a guttural croaking tongue that sounded vaguely similar to what I remembered of northern European languages from Earth but was otherwise completely unintelligible.

“Sigrun, Kara, Skuld-” I fought the urge to flinch under their unsettling gaze. “I want you to assist the villagers as best you can, alright?”

“Okay!” The trio agreed in unison, grinning with disturbing degrees of intense enthusiasm.

Any concerns I had harboured about exposing the immature Valkyrja to the mass graves and cruelties of the previous regime evaporated and were quickly replaced with concerns about exposing the villagers to the Valkyrja.

Death was the Valkyrjas’ domain and I could sense that the violence of the deaths had awakened something in them. Forcing them to deny a core aspect of their identity would be cruel, but it was unnerving to witness the intense focus that had taken hold of them.

I had originally intended to leave and allow things to proceed as they may. However, I had now resigned myself to see things through.

One by one, Sigrun, Kara and Skuld leapt impossibly high into the sky. Before they could fall more than a handful of inches, dark ethereal feathered wings erupted from their backs and arrested their descent.

The clear skies quickly became overcast and within minutes storm clouds had begun rolling in from the distance.

As the storm clouds drew closer and thunder began rumbling in the distance, Sigrun conjured a spear into her right hand and began to sing. The words themselves were entirely unrecognisable, but the meaning behind them was clear.

We now stood upon hallowed ground, and the Valkyrja would now pass judgement on the dead.

Kara spent a small amount of mana and materialised a strange-looking three-stringed instrument in one hand, and a small bow in the other. Joining her voice to Sigrun’s, she began to play.

The voice of the stringed instrument was strange. Falling somewhere between an out-of-tune violin and a cello, it grated and frayed the nerves in a way that I had never experienced before. It was not, strictly speaking, unpleasant, and lent itself well to the mournful and combative vocals.

As if she had simply been waiting her turn, Skuld conjured an instrument of her own. Remarkably similar to the stringed instrument carried by her sister, although considerably larger, Skuld’s instrument only bore two strings instead of three. Both instruments had a leather over-the-shoulder strap, but Kara’s strap appeared to be largely for show and Skuld’s was out of necessity.

The voice of Skuld’s two-stringed instrument was much deeper and richer but also carried the same unnerving tone as its smaller cousin.

“The field!” Cried one of the villagers. “Something is happening in the field!”

Possessing a considerably elevated field of view, I could see that the villager was right. The ghostly figure of, what I assumed, was a small boy of six or seven years old, had appeared near the centre of the wheatfield and was now slowly walking in our general direction.

One by one, more figures appeared in the field. Most of them appeared to be quite old, walking with bowed backs and short uncertain steps. However, there were also a depressingly high number of young women and small children.

The small boy was the first to pass over the threshold of the field.

“Lee!!!” An elderly woman broke free of the crowd of villagers and rushed toward the child as fast as her walking cane and pronounced limp would allow.

The small boy paused mid-step and turned to face the old woman. Impassive until that moment, the boy smiled.

Tripping in her haste, the old woman scrambled the last remaining steps and reached for the boy with trembling hands.

Expecting her hands to pass through the boy’s ghostly form, I was completely caught by surprise when the old woman pulled the boy into a fierce embrace.

The scene repeated itself as more of the ghostly figures left the wheatfield. However, while many of them were recognised and sought out by their living relatives, a small number had begun to gather on the road beneath the Valkyrja and were beginning to fade away.

The quality and style of their clothing looked different, and combined with the fact that the villagers were now actively seeking out their relatives and acquaintances, I could only assume that the abandoned apparitions may have belonged to travellers that had been passing through the village when they died and were subsequently buried.

There was also a distinct possibility that the cities and towns had exported their dead...

As the Valkyrja continued to sing, apparitions began appearing in the other fields surrounding the village.

The sheer scale of death was soul-numbing to contemplate. Especially since it was only one small village amongst hundreds.

The number of apparitions gathering on the road began to dramatically increase. Amongst the approaching crowd, I noticed people who didn’t belong. Men, women and children of strikingly different ethnicities, and even a few monsters, were scattered throughout.

My next surprise came when apparitions wearing armour and carrying weapons began to leave the fields. My surprise escalated when the ranks of armed and armoured apparitions began slowly ascending into the sky.

Many faded after rising only a handful of feet off of the ground. However, a small number continued to rise.

A bolt of lightning raced from the sky, striking the head of Sigrun’s spear and arcing into the highest of the apparitions. Thunder roared overhead, and for a fleeting moment, the apparition regained physical form before erupting into a burst of blinding light that rivalled the lightning itself.

A sudden chill ran down my spine.

For that briefest of moments when the apparition had appeared to take on physical form, my authority had alerted me to a new arrival within my domain. Only, now it was gone.

As another floating apparition was struck by lightning, I received yet another notification. However, just the same as before, there was no trace of the individual’s records afterwards.

Confused, I reviewed the Valkyrjas’ status’ in search of answers.

It took me only a handful of seconds to find what was responsible.

Einherjar.

In its simplest terms, the Racial Ability would mark any individual that passed the standards of the Worthy Dead Racial Ability. Once marked, the individual would be stored in an extradimensional space and can be ‘Summoned’ to fight a specified enemy or group of enemies. However, unlike other Summons that could be duplicated by creating multiple projections of the original, the marked individual, the Einheri, is its true self and can’t be Summoned by other means.

If a Summoned Einheri is slain, it will reform within the extradimensional space over time. Similarly, when the Einherjar have no more enemies to fight, they would be Banished to the extradimensional space and would then Regenerate over time.

A few months ago, I would have found something like this profoundly disturbing. However, while a part of me rankled at the thought of subjecting the fallen to a potential eternity of conflict, I now knew better than to take matters at face value.

Assuming the Worthy Dead selection criteria were somewhat similar to Viking myths, and having already witnessed many of the apparitions fail to be chosen, I strongly suspected that one of the key criteria required the prospect to desire such an afterlife.

Fighting for eternity was comparable to hell for me, but Earth’s history was littered with people who would have leapt at such an opportunity if given the chance. So, bearing that in mind, I wasn’t going to begrudge Sigrun and her two sisters their private army of battle junkies. Especially since I may need them in the near future.

By the time the last of the apparitions had left the fields and faced the Valkyrjas’ judgement, all but the villagers, except for the headman, had returned to their homes.

Out of what may have been tens of thousands, only five apparitions had met the vague conditions set by the Worthy Dead Racial Ability. Which was considerably fewer than I had expected but was perhaps for the best.

Sigrun and her sisters had spent very little of their MP and could have stayed a few more hours. However, there was nothing else for them to do right at this particular moment, so I figured it would be best to dismiss their projections early. Especially since I wasn’t sure how fine their degree of control over their powers was and didn’t want to deny the people of other villages the opportunity for closure with their murdered loved ones.

“Thank you, Patriarch, for your immense kindness!” The village headman bowed respectfully, his back as straight as an arrow despite his obvious fatigue. “And thank you Divine Spirits for your heavenly grace!”

Dismissing her spear, Sigrun returned the gesture, mimicking the headman’s movements. “You are most welcome.”

Kara and Skuld grinned in a way that wasn’t quite friendly. Possessing an almost predatory or condescending vibe.

Concerned that they would say or do something that would cause an unnecessary understanding, I followed through on my initial plans and terminated their projections.

“I intend to repeat the service for other villages, but it occurred to me that perhaps some of your people may have missed their opportunity to participate due to an absence related to travel. If possible, I would like to reduce such a likelihood in the future by approaching matters in a more organised fashion,” I explained while doing my best not to rush matters unnecessarily. “I would appreciate it if you would play a part in ensuring that at least the neighbouring villages are informed of what you have seen and of my intentions for the future.” I bowed my head and pressed my hands together in a lesser affectation of the respectful bowing the headman and villagers had given me.

“It would be my honour, Patriarch!” The headman declared, brimming with gratitude and pride. “I will see to it that every province learns of your bountiful generosity!” The headman bowed again before hurrying back toward the village with an unmistakable spring in his step.

Reflecting upon everything that had happened, my mind drifted to a darker place.

I had commissioned a statue to be made in the likeness of Lash’s sister to help her process her grief. At the time, I had believed that would be the closest I would be capable of bringing them together again. But the Valkyrja presented an altogether different opportunity.

A final chance to say goodbye...

However, it had not gone past my notice that there was a distinct possibility of doing more harm than good.

Lash had made significant progress in processing her grief. Which made it far more complicated than simply presenting her with the offer. Like offering a reforming addict another hit of their favourite poison, offering Lash the assistance of the Valkyrja wasn’t truly equivalent to presenting her with a choice at all.

But eventually, the news would get out, and Lash would learn that I had kept it from her. Worse, she would learn of the lengths I would have taken to keep it from her.

I had dug myself into a hole and there was no way out of it without making it bigger.

Cursing myself for being an idiot, I used my authority to return to The Grove.

Pete and Suzy were swimming after Toofy out on the lake, while she furiously paddled away on a small canoe that bore a striking resemblance to a giant bean pod.

Hana, Lash and Anette were chatting on the shore while watching the twins' desperate but ultimately futile pursuit of Toofy out on the lake. Futile, because Toofy was cheating.

With Ril propelling the canoe from beneath, there was no way Suzy and Pete would be able to catch Toofy unless she allowed them to do so. Thankfully, neither Pete nor Suzy seemed to mind.

I was just impressed that the twins had developed the motor skills necessary to compete against their negative state of buoyancy and could remain on the surface for so long.

“They grow up so fast,” I commented sheepishly, nodding Hana in thanks as she vacated her seat so I could sit next to Lash.

“Do they?” Anette asked quietly, sounding thoroughly confused.

“No! I will not have any more of that,” Hana rebuked irritably. “The Angels returned your sight less than a week after you entered MY Grove. And I don’t want to hear any more bad jokes about not seeing this or that! It isn’t entertaining or humourous in the slightest!”

I couldn’t see much of Anette past Lash’s perfectly sculpted thighs. Admittedly, that was mostly due to distraction. However, I was reasonably certain I saw Anette stiffen in response.

“It’s a little funny...” Anette countered quietly, demonstrating a rebelliousness and confidence I hadn’t witnessed until this moment.

“HA!” Lash barked and snorted in amusement. “Because you are small! I understand this one!” She grinned at me, positively beaming with pride, and giving me cause to sympathise with Hana.

“Hehe...” Anette chuckled quietly, earning a narrow-eyed glare from Hana as a warning.

Hana sniffed in distaste and then promptly ignored Anette entirely. “There was nothing wrong with the fields, and I had no problems coaxing the local plantlife into following my instructions,” she shot Anette a brief glare. “I don’t believe there is any danger in joining their realm to ours. At least, none that I was able to find.”

“Thank you, Hana,” I nodded appreciatively.

“It was no trouble,” Hana replied graciously, “But I would like to speak with one of these ‘Cultivators’. Assuming you can find one that can be trusted to linger within The Grove. The changes they promote on plant life in their vicinity are quite interesting, and I would like to observe these changes in action.”

“I can do that,” I agreed without hesitation. It was an easy enough request to fulfil. “I’ll have Gric vet potential candidates. I’m sure there will be no shortage of volunteers.”

Hana smiled and bobbed her head in appreciation, “Thank you, Tim.” She then turned to Lash and waved farewell.

Retrieving her oar and boarding one of the giant lily pads near the shore, Hana began slowly paddling her way home.

“You should find Hana a Mate,” Lash insisted, catching me entirely off guard.

“What?!” I demanded, “Where did this come from?!”

Lash stared at me for a moment, her initially expectant expression growing increasingly incredulous. “You have found Mates for the others,” she stated calmly, nodding toward Nadine and Fesk who appeared to be enjoying the early evening picnicking by the lake.

“I think you are giving me a lot of undeserved credit,” I insisted defensively. “It’s just coincidence. I didn’t plan or have any intentions for any of it.”

Lash shrugged, making it clear she didn’t think it mattered. “You are the one that found them,” she countered firmly.

“Technically...Sure,” I reluctantly agreed, “But I didn’t set anyone up! I didn’t arrange dates or anything! It all just happened on its own!”

“Do that then,” Lash replied smugly, resting her head against my chest. “Have it happen.”

I let out a frustrated groan.

I was probably just about the worst possible person to play at being a matchmaker. I was still struggling to adjust to being involved in other people’s relationships on just surface levels. I had almost no life experiences to draw upon for reference, and those I did have, were from observing the same relationships Lash was insisting I was responsible for creating.

“I’ll just do what Hana asked then...” I muttered defeatedly, “I’ll have Gric vet candidates like I promised I would, and that should do it, right?”

“Should it?” Lash breathed contentedly.

“You’re the one who said I just need to do what I usually do...” I accused, letting out another deep sigh.

“Then it will work,” Lash stated, confidently drawing my arm tighter around her waist and snuggling in closer to make herself comfortable.

Doing my best to ignore Anette’s muffled laughter. I mentally reviewed what I remembered of Zod’s plans to introduce Dungeons into my Labyrinths and decided I would give him a chance. There was no real harm in allowing the Daemon to operate a Dungeon on the first floor of my Labyrinth and potentially a lot of benefits.

Besides, Zod had made a good point. My Labyrinth was too predictable and was teaching bad habits that could get people killed. Measures needed to be taken to address that, and they needed to be taken as soon as possible.

Without an actionable plan of my own, Zod had presented the only viable option. I just had to hope that the experiences provided by the arena and the Dungeons would be enough to reverse the potential damage I had already caused.

***** Zod ~ Tim’s Labyrinth (First Floor) / Tim’s Demi-Plane *****

Standing before the Dwergi High Council, Zod fought down the urge to fidget as the assembly of wizened men and women collectively examined the refined draft of his Dungeon blueprints. Close to an hour had passed already, but Zod was keenly aware of the Dwergi penchant for paying inordinate attention to the smallest details and knew he just needed to be patient. Especially since that attention and appreciation for details was why he had approached them in the first place.

That, and their secretive distrustful nature, combined with an extreme in-group preference for maintaining confidences, made their people ideal candidates to assist in creating, maintaining, and operating his Dungeons.

After all, the Dungeons would lose a great deal of effectiveness if everyone learned of the dangers well in advance of entry.

Zod was broken from his musings as the councillors ended their muted discussion and their Chancellor, Surthek, stepped forward to address Zod directly.

“We are interested in your proposal, esteemed Daemon Zod,” Surthek made a point of injecting a deliberate pause. “However, we have questions and several recommendations.”

“Mrmrm-Very well!” Zod agreed excitedly, “Please proceed! I will answer what I am able!” The council had already given their word to keep their meeting and its contents private, so Zod had few reservations about discussing matters further.

“There is the matter of compensation,” Surthek commented bluntly. “Your plans have made no mention of what compensation our people will receive for their labour. Could you enlighten us as to why?”

“Mrmrm-Ah! Yes...” Zod bowed his head briefly in acknowledgement of the oversight. “Those are only the blueprints for the Dungeon-” He carefully withdrew a thick ledger from the messenger satchel on his hip and offered it to the Chancellor for inspection and review. “-I have two proposals, both for the initial construction costs and ongoing employment. I am, I must admit, lacking my understanding of the Dwergi economy. So I understand if the first proposal is unacceptable and in need of revision-”

Surthek nodded in understanding as he accepted the ledger, seemingly not offended in the least.

“-However, the second proposal is far simpler,” Zod claimed confidently. “For services rendered, including initial construction, maintenance, and ongoing employment, I suggest providing compensation through a quest.”

“A quest?” Surthek’s pale bushy eyebrows rose in surprise and a host of muted murmuring broke out amongst the assembled councillors.

“The quest would, of course, through its core nature, determine a suitable level of compensation for workers to select as their reward for their services. Although...” Zod hesitated slightly as he delved deeper into a realm he was far less comfortable with. “I am not entirely sure rewards will scale in reference to the internal economy of your people... To the best of my knowledge, economies of other Factions have reshaped themselves in reaction to the quests, and not the other way around...”

“I see...” Surthek furrowed his craggy brow in thought for a time before eventually nodding determinedly. “The primary concern, as I see it, and I am confident my fellow councillors will agree-” To a man, the councillors preemptively nodded in unison. “-That the contents of the potential rewards for the quest would determine if it is a fair means of compensation.”

Zod nodded in understanding and was relieved that the subject of discussion was moving back in a direction he was more comfortable with. “Mrmrm-This undertaking is of considerable importance to the Tyrant, and he had permitted an extensive list of rewards as compensation. Manastones of all tiers are intended to form insurance, of a kind, against a lack of variety in the rewards or personal need for denominations of currency for trade. However, the unrestricted access in selecting Evolution Elixirs is what I believe your people will find most agreeable overall.”

Surthek’s eyes flew wide in surprise, and after overcoming their initial shock, the councillors broke out into a fierce debate amongst themselves.

“To ensure we have no misunderstandings...The Tyrant is offering unrestricted and ongoing access to Evolution Elixirs, of all tiers, as a reward through the quest?” Surthek queried, his coal-black eyes glittering with desire.

“Higher tiers may fluctuate in availability,” Zod cautioned soberly, “Otherwise? Yes, it is as you have said. The Tyrant was VERY clear on that particular point.”

Surthek hastily nodded, appearing considerably more agreeable than during their initial greeting. “We shall need to discuss this offer further, as a matter of due diligence, of course.”

“Mrmrm-Of course!” Zod agreed happily, ecstatic that his Dungeon was another step closer to being realised.

Surthek turned to leave, but stopped, appearing as if he had forgotten something. “Ah, yes, we did have another subject of particular interest. With the concerns regarding compensation now addressed, several councillors wish to know if you have considered fashioning many smaller Dungeons instead of the proposed singularly large Dungeon.” He hurriedly wet his lips and pushed on, perhaps fearing that Zod would interrupt or take offence. Although he didn’t truly have cause for either as Zod was intrigued. “Smaller Dungeons may have higher costs, but could be delved simultaneously without contaminating your proposed grading system through unanticipated group interactions! Furthermore, smaller Dungeons could be made from articulated segments that can be changed out between delves, safeguarding against learning the layout of the Dungeon by wrote, while still encouraging the recognition of certain key features as signs of potential danger!”

“Mrmrm-Segments?! Like a puzzle!” Zod had several such children’s toys in his home and had given several more as gifts to the Tyrant’s children, albeit somewhat grudgingly. The best puzzles in his collection were shaped in such a way that it was easy to place them together incorrectly according to the pattern imprinted on the topmost surface, encouraging a higher degree of skill. So Zod was very much on board with the Dungeons taking on board that particular element. However, it did raise a small number of concerns as well.

The most notable concern being how they would move the segments without troubling the Tyrant over every recalibration...