As the crowd dispersed, a group of ordinary-looking people huddled into an alleyway. They pulled out maps made out of paper and handed it to the oldest man in the group. “Fenricht, this is all the information we could get,” a woman said.

Fenricht looked over the uniformly mad maps scribbled with ink, charcoal, and even blood.

“So Enhert’s group was lost here,” Fenricht examined as he pointed at a cross. “Yulla’s group went missing here. What in the bloody Purgatory is going on?”

“Maybe whatever beast the northmen were tracking killed ‘em all, aye?” someone asked.

The old man wrapped his beard with his hand and thought deeply. Out of the four groups sent north, only one returned. When Captain Marcoir sent the two reserve hunter groups, Fenricht’s group and Aolgher’s, up north to investigate the missing hunters, he told them to expect the worst. Those that did return had no idea what happened in the forest.

‘What? We went and kissed every damned rock and tree up there. We saw nothin’ and none!’ Fenricht recalled what the leader of the group said. His finger made a line across a map. “The groups that didn’t return were near Mount Varangia…”

“Fenricht, you think the northmen did something to them?”

The old man flipped his hood down, covering much of his head. “That’s what I want to find out.”

“Let’s kidnap one of those things.”

“Nay. Don’t do anything stupid, it’s hard to kidnap a northman. We’ll try to get into Mount Varangia instead and see what’s up,” Fenricht ordered. As his group made their way for the exit, Fenricht bumped a Vyssian woman. He could only get a glimpse of her before losing sight of her in the crowds.

The woman, Dyvona, stopped by a tavern. She dropped her heavy bag onto a bench then sat next to it. After opening the window blinds, she took out a semi-circle orb, gave it a shake, then laid it onto one end of the table. The orb glowed, brightening her little corner as well as arousing curious looks from the tavern-goers.

“Dyvona. Want the usual?” a little girl approached and asked. Dyvona readied a map on the table and simply replied with a nod. With a sigh, she crossed out a section of the map with a sharpened chalk.

When the little girl placed a bowl of gruel, a plate of bread, and a mug of water mixed with a bit of fruit juice onto the huntress’ table, Dyvona gave the girl half a silver piece before turning her attention back to the map quickly.

She was scratching out a mistake when the map ripped. “Damned flimsy things,” she cursed before idly staring at it.

During the time Dyvona spent in Varangia trying to find ‘new entrances into Mount Varangia’, other than the suspicious markings of a recent battle, she couldn’t find anything else. The northern forest was not only huge, but it was also hard to get around. If one wasn’t cautious, they would’ve lost their sense of direction in the shaded trails of the tall, grey oaks. Worse yet, the time she could snoop around was limited—for winter was harsh to the land, especially so for Varangia. Dyvona had wondered many times how the Varangians plan on spending the winter.

‘Should I ask for help from my kins?’ Dyvona’s thoughts drifted back to home in the capital city, Vyssia. However, she quickly dismissed those thoughts as she remembered that the Varangians had only given her the special exception of entering their home territory. ‘These northmen must be crazy to ask me to scour the mountain. Are they bloody hoping I find another entrance by blind luck?!’

Strained with stress, Dyvona mindlessly circled a section of the mountain-forest before diving into her warm meal. Rather than her current job, she was hoping to get some kind of spice from the merchants down the street.

Though the pesky walking-trees-with-swords were driven off, the kojan threat still loomed over Custodian’s domain. Even weeks after the last battle, there were still small-scale raids upon the poor super-A.I.’s production facilities. To make up for this, the drones worked harder to increase their manufacturing scale. If the kojans showed up again, the drones will be prepared.

While most of the human trackers hired by Custodian were all tragically killed in kojan or hunting-related accidents, the rest proved useful in mapping out areas of interest. Mines were discovered, large monster dens were also mapped out. Hunting for local beasts had become Custodian’s way of training its fleshy and puny troglodyte thralls… and of course, negating costs.

Internally, Custodian also focused on transforming its little mountain into the main production hub of the entire region. ‘If my calculations are correct, I could strip and flatten the mountain in one hundred years. But I still want to progress faster. I wonder where I can get a lot of cheap labor quickly?’

‘Master Custodian, organics are resurfacing from beneath.’

‘The undead?!’ Custodian asked, immediately flipping over its database of contingency plans on what to do when ‘free walking material’ appears.

‘Negative. I’m talking about the lizard thralls. They’re coming back from the underground in large numbers.’

Deep underground, a swarm of troglodytes marched through the dark tunnels led by the mighty troglodyte chieftain Razugotter and his blue-skinned warriors. Though the end of the tunnel was a dead-end, he looked as if he had expected this. In fact, he looked very relieved. He calmly walked up to the rock wall and ran his webbed hands against it. He stood proudly and shouted with full of energy, “O Mighty Iron Lords! Hear my plea! I have brought my tortured people to your overlordship so that you may rule us justly!”

The troglodyte warriors thumped their steel spears against the floor vigorously while the refugees in the back were confused. The lesser troglodytes mimicked their cousins, stamping and punching the floor.

“Razugotter! We have no time for this! The Inners will be here soon!” a high troglodyte chieftain shouted.

“The Inners matter not. We shall be saved by the Iron Lords!” Razugotter responded.

“What Iron Lords?! There is no Iron Lord here! I see none! You know what else we haven’t seen yet?! The Great Lands! Where is the Great Lands you promised us?!”

Razugotter didn’t answer, simply opting to smile at him.

“You-”

“They are here! The Inners!” The troglodytes at the back panicked. They pushed against each other, squeezing the refugee line down the narrow tunnel. On the other end of the tunnel, warriors of Tilapola appeared with their weapons drawn. They didn’t even bother to give the Gotters a chance to explain themselves as they charged down with fury burning in their eyes. Yet, it only took a split of a second for the balance of power to tip over. Tilapolan warriors fell one by one as spider drones attacked seemingly out of nowhere. Turrets revealed themselves and fired piercing bolts at the enemy lesser troglodytes. The Gotter warriors took advantage of the chaos and counterattacked, swiftly bringing an end to the Inners.

The disheveled refugees weren’t given time to process what just happened as the hidden gate slowly opened. Razugotter and his warriors knelt down with reverence while the rest looked on with shock.

“Greetings!” a high-tone voice croaked. The owner of the voice was only half the size of the average high troglodyte, and their limbs were lanky. Just a sneeze from one of them could blow away this mysterious being.

“Lord Niner! Praise be to your eternal wisdom!” Razugotter croaked.

“You are done with your business here? I suppose all those people will be added to our… workforce?” Niner asked.

“Yes, my lord! Please enlighten them; take them to the Great Lands!”

“Of course. Go ahead. Take them to the village outside of the mountain,” Niner nonchalantly waved towards the dungeon entrance.

“Mountain? Outside?” the new high troglodyte chieftain was confused about the new words. Razugotter could only laugh before explaining, “Words we have made for the new things given to us by the Iron Lords! Chieftain, you and your people are saved now.”

As Razugotter led his people into the complex, Niner asked, “I suppose your work was successful?”

Razugotter lowered his head and replied, “Yes, Lord Niner. While we were not able to take the fight to the Inners, we were able to free most of the Gotter Caste. No more shall we be slaves! But my lord, my forces were separated throughout the land. Were you able to find the other groups?”

Niner gave a brief look into the drone network and confirmed, “There are many groups of workers arriving at the other hidden entrances.”

“Praise the Iron Lords! I give many thanks to your divine kind! Me and my people shall be yours to command!” Razugotter praised again.

“Yes, yes. Now off you go. We’ve been lacking workers for the mines lately,” Niner shooed. Of course, the troglodyte didn’t protest and joined his people. With the organic gone, Niner stared at the floor.

‘Why is it that when the organic fleshbags talk to us, they look at the floor?’ Niner mused.

‘Don’t waste time, Niner. Get back to work,’ Custodian ordered.