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The Third Floor Guardian Arena, The Dungeon, Medea Island

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When the six lizards joined the fight, things got a little strained. None of the melee fighters could decisively end the Guardian, and any attempt to disengage was punished. That left Matha herself, the water mage, the crossbow-woman and a healer to fend off the new enemies and prevent them from coming to the aid of the Guardian.

The Water Mage was the most useful, in this regard. The blades of water he manipulated were, of course, not solid blades. They bent and flowed around to strike at the monsters' weak points. They'd certainly fought enough of them over the last week to figure out at least a few. The water mage was managing to keep three of the lizards occupied. Scratch that, he killed one.

Matha herself kept two at bay, both wielding swords that looked like they'd been formed from the sharp pincer from the crab monsters. Her minion Kataren was trading crossbow bolts with a mage-lizard's mana-bolts. From the glance she'd gotten, the bolts didn't seem to have an elemental inclination.

The healer kept back, well away from danger. He was perfectly capable of fighting, but you didn't put your healer on the front line. That was just good sense. His job was to heal Litan and the bodyguards, while they kept the Guardian occupied.

When the fine hairs on the back of her neck rose and she could smell a very particular scent, she opened her mouth to shout a warning. Before the noise reached past her lips Kataren's opponent, the lizard-mage, cast a bolt of lightning at the healer. It had duped them into thinking it had no element!

The man screamed and collapsed, lightning burns running across his exposed skin. His pained screams trailed off as he went limp. Probably just fainted, rather than dead. No platinum dies from a single lightning bolt, even if they never purposefully reinforce their body.

The man could have probably healed himself, if he wasn't unconscious.

"Someone get him a potion!" her brother yelled, in the midst of parrying a heavy swing.

"Kataren, I can take yours!" the water mage yelled, forming another two blades from the remaining water in his water-skins and drawing the lightning mage into combat. Kataren disengaged from her duel with the lightning mage and rushed over to their fallen healer. He might have bitten off a little more than he could chew, though. Now engaging two mages and a melee fighter at once, he seemed to be stretching the edge of his capabilities. The monsters were wiser to his abilities after their initial clash and kept a keen eye on his blades and their positions.

Matha's childhood playmate slid the final few feet to kneel over the fallen healer's limp form. A red potion was poured down his throat and his burns soon smoothed out at a clearly visible rate.

That was the moment things became much, much worse.

In sequence, three things happened.

The Guardian roared in fury, likely at his continuing inability to slay any of the guilders encircling him, and displayed a previously unknown ability; Fire breath. A horizontal sweep caught her shield-less bodyguard and Litan unprepared. They stumbled back, arms raised as if to ward off the magical flames.

The water mage was unable to keep the full attention of his three opponents, leading to the lizard mage casting a second bolt of lightning, this one struck her friend, who screamed in pain, then slumped over the healer.

Finally, her friend's two opponents took advantage of her distraction to close in and strike her directly. Matha had been able to keep them out of sword-range thanks to her adept use of magic, but the shock of her brother bursting into flames and her oldest friend's sudden injuries had her slip in her tight control.

One of her wrists was sliced halfway through, the slash from the strange organic sword not sharp nor strong enough to cut through even the smaller bones of her wrist. The second strike was to her thigh, and likewise halted at the bone.

"RETREAT!" She head Litan yell, followed by six flashes. Likely the bodyguards, Jessine, Litan and his friend. Kataren was still slumped over the healer, as far as she was aware. Matha attempted to disengage from the two lizard monsters she was fighting, stumbling, and reached for her own crystal. The last thing she saw before the flash of the teleport was the Guardian standing over the two collapsed members of the raid, a toothy grin on his face.

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With all the active fighters having teleported away I was left with two alive, if singed, captives. In two of the of the rooms in my experimentation area off to the side of the fifth floor, I formed barred sections at the back of the rooms to keep my captives in. They got a small hole in the floor for a toilet, the waste from which would pass through several cleansing and purifying filters before being pumped back out into the ocean through a one-way vent. On the other wall-corner of the cell I created a small basin. Above the basin was an incredibly thin pipe, which piped in water drip-by drip.

I pushed mana into the walls and bars of the cells, with the intent to reinforce and strengthen the material. As far as I'm aware it worked, but I'll need to test it before I'm willing leave the prisoners in there.

By the time the cells were ready, Mushu arrived with both prisoners over his shoulders.

The man was a healer and the woman was a 'rogue' that specialized in crossbow usage. My Kobolds had stripped them down to their undergarments, confiscating all their equipment. The woman was still injured from the lightning spell the Shaman had cast, so I had Mushu pour one of their healing potions down her throat and slip her through the bars. He did the same to the relatively healthy healer.

I was unable to utilize mana in the air, but the plentiful mana I'd already injected into the rock was usable. The thick circular bars of the cell thinned and squared off, stretching into a rectangular shape with just enough space between the bars to fit their hand up to the thumb through.

Okay. I have captives now. They have food and water. I'll probably need to organize regular deliveries of food, since I don't think humans can subsist off mana alone.

Now, just what the hell am I going to do with them? I can study them passively, no matter what. Finally being able to test the limits of the strange interference they have on my mana is definitely on the list. After that, figuring out how to get around that. Studying their cores and how they process mana would be useful. There seems to be some sort of change that comes over the core after the given guilder dies.

Taking that further I could test their growth by adding mana to their water and food, watching how their body and core processes it. Beyond that... Interrogation doesn't really appeal to me. I can learn everything they know by killing them, all their mana would be taken directly to my core if my monsters didn't do it. In that case, it would just be torture. Personally, I don't see a reason to torment them. They may have been mercenaries attempting to carry out a hit on me, but I felt oddly detached in this case.

They now pose little to no threat to me, and will hopefully stay that way. Just in case, I enchant the cells to pull ambient mana from the air in the cells, hopefully depriving them of a method of regaining mana. If the healer does know any offensive magic, and attempts to break out, I'll have plenty of warning.

Beyond just passive observation and tests with mana, I can't think of a use. Once they outlive their usefulness I'll be face with a choice. Kill them for their memories in cold blood, or release them to the surface.

It's a tough choice. On one claw, my dungeon part just wants to murder them. On the other hand the human part of me balks slightly at the thought. Yes, I've been killing in self defense, but to kill in cold blood would push me over an invisible line.

I need to think more about this. In the last week work had continued on the excavation of the seventh floor. The Sixth got a second pass to add various ruins and details, the fifth received similar. The Fourth could potentially be reached soon, so I threw myself into a thorough inspection.

This floor was... lacking, in comparison to all the others. It didn't contain some grand vista, nor any large rooms at all. It was entirely composed of tunnels, weaving and twisting around and through each other. All the tunnels were different sizes; some big enough for a tall human to walk hunched, most would need the delvers to be crouching to pass through.

There were also numerous smaller tunnels, for the use of the rats, also all in differing sizes. From small enough for an unaltered rat to pass through, up to the one-foot long specimens most of the surviving rats had achieved. The most dominant rats were as different from each other as I could have expected though all were at least 2 foot six inches in their main body size, not counting the tails.

Some were bulky and muscled, using their sheer mass to crush and pound their competition into mush. Some became slender and their coarse fur sleek, these had achieved some level of success in shadow magic. Others had their fur become like a hedgehog, incredibly sharp and tipped with an incredibly variety of poisons. There were more, but these were the more common evolutions. A single command was enough to bring the bloodthirsty, creatures into line. I then broadcast my orders to all the rats.

Enemies of the dungeon draw near. The strongest are now your leaders. You are to choose one and join their clan, committing to following their path. Conflict within clans is forbidden. Conflict between clans is permitted, as long as no humans are within the Warren.

In response I get a general feeling of acceptance, en masse. They divide rather equally under the various leader-rats, hereforth the Clan Heads of their own clans. Yes. My Ratten will thrive in this place.

After sorting out the monsters, I seriously updated the aesthetic of the floor. Before, it was bare stone tunnels, with plenty of sharp edges littering the place. Now, I smoothed out the tunnels into smooth pipes. The previous mess of tunnels was re-arranged into an enormous sewer system. I made it semi-functioning, in that I had water flow through it, the direction of the flow not related at all to the location of the boss arena.

The rushing water would cause plenty of uneven footing, and with some pipes completely underwater. There were some similarities to the second floor, but I felt it was different enough to stand on it's own. The Ratten provided a more encompassing threat than the fish ever did, and the cramped conditions elicited an entirely different feel.

The Boss, I decided, would be the strongest Ratten in the largest Clan. In this case, it was one of the incredibly muscular ones. I provided a roomy, separate warren off the boss arena for her clan to occupy. I made it clear that he could be challenged for this space. A loss would have her clan forfeit that space, and their right to be the boss of the floor.

With more organized inter-rat conflict, the floor should remain ready to fend off invaders at all times. I fully believe that Mushu will eventually fall. The guilders' ability to teleport out at any point in the battle means they can get familiar with how he fights, testing strategies with little risk. The fact they've now lost three party members, however means they might be a bit more cautious.

At least, I hope.

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Port Medea, Medea Island, Kalenic Sea

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Layla Losat sometimes regretted taking this job. This moment, though, was probably the most intensely she had felt that regret. In her office, she had been enjoying a quiet afternoon. Her paperwork had been mostly completed, lunch had been delicious, and she was preparing to take a stroll through the market when one of the guild's messengers burst into her office.

"Yes?" She asked, politely.

"Begging your pardon Guildmistress, but the Gorge raid has returned from their delve less two members and they're refusing to write up a report of their delve." Layla sighed. She seemed to be doing that a lot, lately.

"Please inform Felin I require his assistance." She ordered. The messenger ran off to retrieve Felin from his office, while Layla searched her desk for fresh parchment. When he arrived, she nodded in his direction, writing supplies once again laid out before her. He grunted at her, when she indicated he was to take a seat.

"The Gorge twins have decided to stop playing ball." She informed, gravely. Felin raised an eyebrow at her. "They're refusing to report about their delve today, and have lost two of their party members."

"So they found the boss." Felin rasped, bringing a hand to his chin. "And got their asses kicked."

Layla smiled sardonically. "It would seem so. I expect they will call for reinforcements, potentially from their older siblings or parents." Felin nodded.

"I looked into the family, when they arrived." He offered. "Powerful, though the whole family has been indebted to Grand Duke Plaised for years now. Our initial suspicions were correct. They were ordered here. If they kill the dungeon for him, he wipes away the debt."

"And if someone else does it..." Layla finished, getting a nod in return. Layla took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. "Is everything prepared for the next wave of Guilders?" She asked, changing the topic. Felin raised his hand and waved it side to side.

"Mostly. with the meat from the crabs supplementing fishing and farming, there is plenty of food on the island. Housing has been somewhat settled; a couple of bunkhouses have been erected. It won't be the most comfortable option, but definitely cheaper than the taverns. Should leave the taverns to focus on being the more high-quality option." Felin explained.

"Good." Layla answered, satisfied. "Because they should be arriving any day now."

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