—Luneil—

A collective quiet had settled over the valley as the flights of Dire Ravens passed overhead.

It was as if the very mountain itself had taken a fearful breath and fallen still.

Death had come to an unnamed valley in the Parapets.

The flights of ravens swooped down, daring the trembling earth to reach up and snatch them out of the sky.

Three flights roamed ahead, acting as a vanguard for the fourth, which held a shining gem within a woven net of grass.

The Dungeon Core flew within inches of the ground, vast furrows appearing beneath it as the dirt beneath was annihilated indiscriminately.

Occasionally, small spheres of dirt would hang in the air for a single second, buffered from Luneil's destruction by the negating effects of the Lifeforce of an uncontrolled creature.

But gravity always triumphed in the end.

Luneil watched in satisfaction as these orbs of earth burst against the bottom of the furrows, cracking apart like eggs. Exposing underground animals and lifeforms blinking in the sunlight.

Their surprise was always short-lived.

The Dire Ravens acting as the vanguard arced around, descending upon the uncovered creatures in an attempt to lift their struggling bodies into the air.

The earth that had once protected them now acted as a gutter, preventing them from easily escaping the deathtrap that Luneil had created.

Two flights of Dire Ravens swept through the newly created terrain in a v-shaped formation.

The creatures had nowhere to run, some scrabbled at the sides, others simply stared in shock at their impending doom.

The ravens clutched their prizes in their talons, returning them to Luneil, where they were promptly torn apart and absorbed.

All that was left behind were small uprooted plants and insects too small to be worth his notice.

Still, he made a note to return for the patterns and energy of the plants later, after they had died. Compared to the bounty of energy from animals, the difference between absorbing a plant as it died versus when it was already dead was minimal.

Luneil repeated the procedure several times, making sure to stay away from the river. He didn't want to divert it down the holes and collapse the earthen gullies he had created.

Finally, he commanded his ravens to set him down next to a small tree.

He had absorbed a truly incredible amount of energy, so much so that he was still reeling from the influx. However, what he really wanted was new patterns.

The flora here was so much more diverse than the grassy hills he had previously inhabited. Even the grass looked slightly different.

Luneil ordered a Dire Raven to shred a nearby blade of grass. He barely noticed the insignificant amount of power he received from it.

The pattern, however, was interesting. It differed from the other grass in numerous small but significant ways.

The plants were, in terms of their pattern, astoundingly similar. However, Luneil could see how small changes in their pattern had vastly different results.

Spurred on by the revelation, he compared the two species of grass to his Razorcoil. There were even more differences if one knew where to look.

He began expending minimal amounts of energy to create multiple grasses, sometimes omitting or adding small motifs of another's pattern.

He was able to transpose the motif controlling the prehensile nature of the Razorcoil onto both other species of grass, although the effect was less drastic than in the original modified plant.

Luneil also added the toxin-accumulating motif found in the hill-grass to one Razorcoil, since it was somehow absent in the altered grass. It was a relatively innocuous change, with the abnormal coloration becoming slightly more vibrant, but little else. Disappointed, he switched his attention to other plants nearby.

There was an abundance of mountain herbs and wildflowers, carpeting the gently sloping valley in a patchwork of a thousandfold greens with interspersed islands of floral brightness in between.

Zeph had wandered beyond his influence, airily jaunting between the blossoms.

Luneil wasn't sure if it was a deliberate attempt to avoid talking with him, but he let it slide. She wasn't doing any harm.

Anyways, it provided the perfect opportunity to make amends for his previous transgression.

He sent out his ravens to stealthily gather a few of the brightest and most vibrantly colored flowers.

They returned shortly, beaks full of flower laden stems.

Luneil absorbed them and quickly recreated the flowers all around him.

Still in an experimenting mood, he pumped a small amount of Lifeforce into them, forcing them to change, as their forms became saturated with power.

Whether it was the nature of the changes, or that modifying plants no longer put a dent in his reserves, Luneil was pleasantly surprised at how little energy was required.

The flowers swelled, leaves unfurling into fantastical shapes while the petals divided and subdivided, layering together into an eye-catching bouquet that seemed to shift and sway as sunlight struck the petals, sending sunbeams scattering across the valley slope.

A gust of wind caressed the newly-created wildflower meadow around him, sending golden gusts of pollen streaming out across the breeze.

The effect was stunning, and not entirely what Luneil had expected.

After all, who on Era would have guessed that every single insect within a hundred foot radius would stop dead in their tracks and begin a frenzied rush towards the flowers.

A cloud of black and iridescent blue swarmed towards him.

Luneil frantically sprouted a small forest of Razorcoil, but it did nothing to halt the advance of the legion of insects when they arrived. The serrated grass whirled in a deadly gyre of cutting blades that was rendered ineffectual against the plague of chitinous exoskeleton and blurring wings. There were simply too many of them.

If the Razorcoil was inadequate at stemming the tide of insects, the Dire Ravens were downright useless. Their talons and beaks were only able to catch one or two insects and eventually they were relegated to the task of buffeting the insects away with their wing-beats, to an equal degree of success. Which is to say, zero.

Suddenly there was a burst of fire as a flaming lash scythed a smoking rent through the clustered insects, flames charring delicate wing membranes, sending twitching insects falling to the ground.

The Razorcoil, to which he had added the toxin-accumulating motif, was finally coming into its own. A quirk of its prehensile nature caused the volatile toxins inside to ignite as it began to flagellate at the swarms of insects.

The result was a fearsome trail of fire lashing through the air in every direction. Where the fire failed to incapacitate the insect horde, the toxic fumes served to drive them away.

It was a glorious spectacle.

Unfortunately, it was also a brief one. Fire and living organisms tend to have a somewhat adversarial relationship. The flaming Razorcoil was no exception to this rule. Its flailing grew even more frenzied as it began to smolder, before finally succumbing to its own flames like a suicidal phoenix. It collapsed into ash, even as a few precious grass seeds were wafted by rising air-currents up and away from the site of the brief but brilliant inferno.

To make matters worse, the other Razorcoil was tiring, unable to sustain the continual exertion without a break.

Depleted, they fell limply to the ground as the buzzing maelstrom centered itself around the flowers and began to lap up the nectar, finally uncontested.

After about thirty minutes, the storm of wings and pollen covered legs had diminished sufficiently for the howling laughter of a small Sylph to be heard above the din.

Every now and then her laughter deteriorated into an adorable fit of hiccups, in which her entire body would shape-shift upwards in a jumping spasm, before her gales of mirth continued unabated.

What? Luneil was feeling a bit miffed at being swarmed for half an hour, however, Zeph's laughter was contagious and he couldn't resist a small chuckle.

"Pffft." Zeph tried in vain to stifle her giggles, struggling to form a coherent sentence, "I can... not... be...lieve... that... actually... ha... ppened."

I probably should have learnt by now to be more careful when I experiment, eh?

Giving up on speech for the time being, Zeph simply morphed into an approximation of a nod, her form jolting with hiccuping laughter.

Luneil felt a warm glow unfolding within him, this was how things should be.

He gave a brief, soundless sigh of contentment as he eyed up the trees nearby. His Dire Ravens mopped up the last of the insects, mostly stragglers that hadn't yet left the scene of the crime.

Relieved by the lull in the insects' assault, and finally being able to utilize Lifeforce without interference, he began to rejuvenate his exhausted Razorcoil, taking a moment to examine the smoldering ashes of his former plant.

Tentatively, he absorbed it, dubious that its pattern had survived. He was partially correct. Its pattern had been distorted by its spontaneous combustion.

However, it was far from unusable. With his knowledge, he was easily able to reconstitute the pattern into a far more recognizable whole, correcting altered motifs and replacing obliterated ones, through several minor adjustments.

Confident in his work, he began planting the oddly patterned stalks around his domain, focusing around the clusters of flowers in anticipation of another incursion by the insects. Their Lifeforce was welcome of course, but only on his terms. And those terms were maximizing casualties.

Satisfied, he looked his new plants over. All they needed now was a name.

Firecoil.

It had a gratifying sense of continuity that appealed to him, it was in keeping with the plant it had been adapted from.

A hesitant knock on his crystal surface brought him back to the moment. It was Zeph.

She spoke haltingly, "Was this for me?" She gestured at the wasteland of petals and insect parts.

Uhhh... Well it was... Buuuut, then this happene—

"Thank you, Luneil. It was... is... beautiful. They smell wonderful," she giggled, "even if they're covered in dead insects."

Luneil was at a loss for words, he was content to bask in her adulation. He hadn't even thought about the flower's scent, lacking that sense himself.

Zeph knocked on his body again, "Luneil? Are you there?"

Luneil started slightly, realizing that Zeph couldn't see his emotions in his crystal state. Still at a loss for words, he projected his feelings towards her.

She huddled close, pressing her back against him. "I've been alive for a long time, but no one has ever done anything like this for me. It's not normal for a Dungeon Core to give. It's not natural. So, before I start to lecture you on proper Dungeon comportment, thank you."

Luneil's heart broke at that moment, or it would have, if he still had one. It was a bittersweet moment or newfound joy and lingering guilt.

Do you forgive me?

Zeph looked away, gazing out over the valley, now scarred with the signs of Luneil's airborne rampage. She bounced playfully upwards, her form blurring for a second before it settled into a new arrangement, "More flowers, minion."

Luneil sighed at the deflection, Yes, dear.

He poured a small volume of Lifeforce into the disheveled flowers surrounding him, not enough to force further mutations, but enough to rejuvenate them.

Then, absorbing a few for their modified patterns, he carpeted the ground in Firecoil and flowers, which he had decided to name Mirages.

They attracted the inevitable horde of insects, although in diminished numbers with so many have already sated themselves on his flowers. This time he was ready, his Firecoil searing flaming fissures through the nebulous black cloud of bugs. Once again, many fell like miniature flaming meteors to the ground while the toxic smoke repelled the rest.

He quickly absorbed the insects off the ground where they had fallen, filling himself with energy and information.

He was happy to watch Zeph gamboling through the Mirages for a while, replenishing his Firecoil after they self-immolated.

But the same hungers were gnawing at him. To grow stronger, to know more.

So far, there had been little he couldn't handle through either the application of strength or problem solving, with a small amount of luck to boot.

It wasn't good enough. What if one of the deer roaming the valley decided to invade his little patch of paradise? What then?

Sure, they were herbivores, but his Dire Ravens could do little to them. Beaks and claws were no match for thrashing antlers and flailing hooves.

He needed something stronger, something bigger.

His attention settled on the small deformed pines clinging to the sides of the valley.

He gathered his ravens around him, forming a grassy net beneath him. It was time to kill some trees.

The stunted trees only seemed to have an insecure grip on the slope, Luneil soon learned that their roots ran both wide and deep. To further complicate the issue, unlike small plants, these pines possessed sufficient Lifeforce to be able to frustrate his attempts at excavating the root system without expending unnecessarily large amounts of mana.

He needed a new approach, one where he could create an object to destroy the tree, an object he could reabsorb after it had done its job.

He directed his Dire Ravens to carry him upwards, above the tree.

Hopefully this would work.

He began to form a boulder out of mana, an enlarged replica of a pebble he had once destroyed in his formative days.

A framework of mana began to appear, slowly solidifying into a mass of stone that hung in the air for a fraction of a second before plummeting down onto the dwarfed pine below.

The diminutive pine splintered under the force of the falling rock. Shards of wood spewed out from beneath the boulder.

Luneil hoped that he wouldn't have to retrieve every fragment to recreate its pattern. Although, he doubted he would have to. His ability to piece them together had progressed since his early days. After all, he had been able to obtain the pattern of the Firecoil, scorched as it was after the first insect invasion.

Practically salivating in anticipation, and hampered only by a lack of salivary glands, he absorbed the over-sized pebble, letting the mana return to him.

Hmmm. What if he repeated the same trick on the deer? He discounted the idea. The boulder took too long to form to be able to reliably position it over the top of a mobile creature. The advantage of killing plants was that they couldn't run away.

Well... none that he knew of, anyway.

There aren't any walking plants, are there?

"A few," Zeph looked at him for a moment, "why are you asking?"

Just wondering. He replied weakly.

"Feeling guilty?" Zeph asked, "Don't worry. Most of them are cannibals anyway."

Weird. Why's that?

"Plants have low standards. Haven't you ever heard of self pollination," she winked at him. "Plant literally go fuck themselves. Do you think a little bit of cannibalism is going to stop them in their tracks?"

Luneil desperately tried to purge that delightful image from his head. He really did not want to know that.

He began to absorb what remained of the pine, assimilating small fragments as he went. The mana and Lifeforce from it was nothing special, especially given the large difference in size between the tree and the animals he had been killing. Complexity was evidently a factor in how much energy he received.

Still... the pattern was useful, especially given what he had in mind.

Luneil took a moment to appreciate his new tree. It had been the work of moments to smooth out the residual irregularities in its pattern. For such a large organism, its structure was composed of remarkably similar basic units.

Adding in the required motifs had been a minor degree more time consuming.

Then he had decided to make the pine larger.

It had taken far longer to make the desired adjustments, an entire night, to be precise. The cost in Lifeforce was exorbitant. He had sourced part of his inspiration from his pebble to boulder transformation.

It turned out that things didn't quite work that way for living things. Simply expanding them didn't work out the way he had first anticipated. Often, the tree grew too large, its trunk rupturing beneath its own weight. Other times, it was too brittle, slowly tearing itself apart as it swayed stiffly in the breeze.

Even for a simple lifeform, comprised of such uniform building blocks, its transformation had been a three-part effort, demanding perseverance, finesse and luck.

The result was far from beautiful. From trunk to treetop, the misshapen pine was corded in ropes of thickened bark. Its branches jutted out at odd angles, stabbing at the sky with its needle-like pine leaves.

Far larger than any other of the dwarfed pines in the valley, it was still difficult to call it a giant. The pine was hunched and twisted, its trunk corkscrewing erratically upwards. It looked as if it would topple over at the slightest breath of wind.

Luneil absorbed it, happy with the finished product, despite its less than first-rate appearance.

It was time to put it to good use.

The mutated pine had been planted by the river at the center of the valley. The deer had been wary of it, at first, shying away every time they came to close to its twisted branches.

Now, ever so slowly, they crept towards its trunk, which was surrounded by succulent grasses, flowers and herbs that Luneil had planted there.

The first began to crop at the lush bounty that surrounded the pine, working deeper and deeper inwards, towards the corded bark of the altered pine tree.

Seeing no obvious danger, the rest of the herd closed in, cautiously nibbling at grass shoots and fresh green buds.

The pine seemed to sway in a windless breeze, setting the deer on edge and extracting a whinnying snort of unease from them.

The pine stilled, and the deer resumed their grazing, throwing the occasional wary glance towards the tree.

The pine swayed again, this time barely drawing a reaction from the converging herd.

Good.

Luneil watched with anticipation as the pine seemed to uncoil over several minutes, its strange branches still sticking straight towards the heavens.

It struck like a wooden snake, its rope-like strands of bark grating against each other as they shifted to assist the trunk's downward movement.

The deer bolted, faster than Luneil thought possible, hooves and hindquarters desperately flying as they put as much distance between the descending tree as they could.

Most escaped by a whisker.

Two were not so lucky.

The descending cage of branches trapped them, piercing their hides, pinning twitching bodies to the ground.

Creaking branches wrapped around them, eliciting snorts and brays of pain and terror. They were dragged towards the trunk, smearing the grass with streaks of reddish-brown.

The cords of bark shifted once more as the pine straightened, only the branches with the two deer hung down, burdened by the weight of the bleeding bodies.

The pine settled back into its normal misshapen corkscrew, imprisoning the deer within the well of its central spiral as it shifted, and splintering some of the branches pinning them. Still... they were trapped.

Perfect.

Luneil ordered his Dire Ravens to carry him towards the tree from his vantage point. He had been wary about his presence scaring away the herd before his newest creation had the chance to prove its worth.

The occasional pained snort reached him as he approached. He took a moment to appreciate the sight. The deer were pinned between the coiling trunk, limbs sticking out at improbable angles, branches piercing through them and twining around them in such a way that they were held suspended within the pine’s central spiral.

The best part was that they were still alive, even if only for a while longer. More power for him.

His influence washed over the deer inside the tree. It was time.

Crush them.

The pine compressed, the corkscrewing coils of its trunk crushing together, turning the deer into a red paste intermingled with stained tufts of fur and splinters of bone. As they died, Lifeforce and mana rushed into him, tracing lines of liquid ecstasy through his crystalline body.

The blissful sensation magnified as he absorbed the bleeding bodies of the deer.

They were the first large patterns he had obtained, except for the pine trees, of course, which he hadn't named yet.

Zeph?

"Yes," Zeph broke out of whatever daydream she was in, replying in a befuddled manner.

What should I call the tree?

"Bob?"

I think I'll give that name a miss.

"Miss Bob?" Zeph looked at him quizzically, "You do know that Bob is a guy's name."

What are you talking about?

"Well," Zeph elongated the word, "when a man and a woma... Oh, wait, wrong talk. Where wa—"

Luneil cut her off. Can you please just give me a good name for the tree. I don't know what to call it.

Zeph harrumphed playfully, "Bob is a perfectly nice name, and so is Miss Bob, if you're so inclined. But seeing as you're being a killjoy, just call it a Ropewood pine, or you could call it Zeph-Is-Awesome." Her shifting form emoted a wink a him.

Ropewood pine, it is.

"Hmph, that was my least favorite choice."

Luneil didn't respond, instead forming a small ball of water above the Sylph. It fell, meeting minimal resistance as it passed through her, sending her body billowing out around it. She reformed when the large droplet exited out through the bottom of her gas-like form.

"Hey, not fair." She huffed indignantly, planting a firm kick on the side of his body. It was an impressive feat, considering her insubstantial form.

Luneil projected the feeling of a shrug to her.

"FIne," Zeph sighed theatrically, raising a hand-like strand of smoke to head height, palm facing outward, "be like that. I'll be crying on the ground when you decide to apologize." She swooned, an arm-like projection moving to her forehead as she drifted to the ground like a falling leaf.

Luneil chuckled at the amateur dramatics, although he was a bit confused when she shifted into a strangely flat four-legged creature.

What's that?

"It's a chaise longue, also, don't talk to me."

Sure, whatever you say, dear.

Zeph immediately bounced up, giving his surface a playful flick that made his whole body ring slightly. "Oh, what would I do without you, you are indeed my knight in shining armor."

Glad to be of service.

"Don't be snide, my faithful minion. On the subject of people in armor, you really should be making a Dungeon complex. Unusual behavior is indicative of a rogue Dungeon, and your behavior is definitely aberrant. What are you even doing now?"

Trying to set up a farming operation? He'd had to set the idea to one side when he decided to leave the grassy plains he was born in, for literally, greener pastures, but the concept had stuck with him.

"I rest my case. It's not normal." Zeph said the word with a self-satisfied air, as if ‘normal’ were the textbook definition for moral excellence.

There was no way Luneil was going to just settle down, however. The ability to generate energy simply by allowing plants to grow and mature was alluring. Furthermore, it seemed as if animals had disproportionately high amounts of Lifeforce and mana, compared to what the plants possessed. If that was the case, then creating an ecosystem of both animals and plants would allow him to harvest energy from them, simply as a matter of them living and developing.

He conveyed the idea to Zeph.

She shook her head vigorously, as if trying to rid it of a tenacious migraine. She pulled herself up, ready to give a lecture to the errant Dungeon Core, which was obviously in desperate need of guidance on normalcy. Then, she stopped herself short. Her form shifting into a representation of a crafty grin.

"You can farm people, you know. They have truly incredible amounts of Lifeforce."

Huh? He could farm people?

What?

Zeph was grinning from ear to ear, or at least that seemed to be what her body was trying to convey, "Oh yes," she continued, "and rather than having them run away from danger, they'll run towards it."

Why was Zeph being so obliging all of a sudden?

And what do these people like?

"Oh, nothing much," Zeph replied innocently, "good food, better alcohol, killing things. You know... the usual."

That's it?

"There is one other thing..." Zeph broke off, shaking her head dejectedly, "But you probably wouldn't want to hear it."

Tell me, I promise you, I do.

"Okay, then. If you insist," Zeph's ear to ear grin turned predatory. "So, as you so kindly asked me to elucidate. What these people, adventurers especially, like most of all is..." Zeph stopped speaking.

What? He asked cautiously, there was a growing feeling in the back of Luneil's consciousness that he had just been played.

"Dungeon complexes." Zeph replied brightly, almost shouting the word.

Motherfucker! He projected the thought so loudly that all the airborne mana in a twenty foot radius was blasted away at high speeds.

"What?" Zeph asked, the very picture of sweetness and light.

Luneil had finally stopped screaming in impotent rage at the brazen Sylph.

How do you make a Dungeon complex?

"You dig out a cave system and fill it with monsters and treasures that people want."

Is that it?

"Pretty much, the sentient races do most of the work. Building settlements near you, making farms, rearing livestock. Only a small number come at first, but as infrastructure develops more arrive as the standard of living improves."

So what do they need?

"Generally just wood, food and water. But you don't need to worry about that. They sort all that stuff out."

An idea was beginning to take shape in Luneil's consciousness.

And could you please just clarify for me that when there is more food and material to go around, more people come to live nearby?

"Yes, pretty much. The strength of the monsters is also a consideration, since you attract more powerful people. But that's the basics, yes."

Can I provide food in my Dungeon complex? Yep, he was definitely liking this idea.

"I suppose you can, I'm not sure why you would want to though?" Zeph answered guardedly, suspicious of the leading questions.

Luneil quickly created a variety of all the plants he knew around him.

Which ones of these are edible?

Luneil looked at him, "You're actually thinking about creating a Dungeon complex?"

Yes.

"Well... I suppose providing food isn't the strangest thing I've ever heard of. I mean I once heard of a Dungeon with tentacles."

Tentac—

"Don't. Talk. About. It." Zeph hissed at him, suppressing a shudder as she muttered something about 'fucking deviants' under her breath.

What about fucking deviants?

"How did you know about that? You're only meant to be—" Zeph stopped herself, realization dawning on her. "Oh... Okay. Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Just, whatever you do, do not create tentacles."

Sure. Whatever. Though I still want to know, what are tent—

"Shut. Up."

Luneil kept silent as the flustered Sylph smoothed her metaphorical skirts.

"Moving on. That is wild mountain wheat." She pointed at a plant, "That is sage. Pine needles are good for tea, as are the roots of those dandelions. And that small tree with red berries over there is mountain ash." She pointed to a tree at the other end of the valley.

She then began listing the names of all the edible plants he had surrounded himself with, "Chicory. Mountain thistle. Mealroot. Sorrel. Velas flower. Coalberry." The list continued.

Soon, his head was spinning with the sheer bounty of edible plants in the valley, even despite its obvious abundance of flora.

It was a truly incredible sight. Exhilarated by the idea that Luneil was making a Dungeon complex, Zeph had suddenly become a wealth of information.

Wow. Thank you, Zeph. I am truly impressed.

Zeph puffed her chest, "Well, you took your time, but I'm glad you finally came to your senses."

Me too. Luneil tried not to sound smug. He failed. One last question.

"Sure." Zeph beamed at him.

Do I need to make my Dungeon complex underground? It was mean, but he couldn't help but bait her a little more.

She glowered at him, then shrieked at an impossibly high pitch, for an impossibly long period of time.

I'll take that as a no?

Zeph glared.

I was joking... sort of...

She shrieked again, even louder this time, as she began to shower him with kicks.

Luneil ignored her. Slowly pumping Lifeforce into the plants she had indicated previously.

Luneil had upgraded and reabsorbed the edible plants, as well as the lone Ropewood pine. He had killed the mountain ash with another boulder, before giving it a similar treatment to the edible plants, recreating it and pumping it full of Lifeforce.

With that completed, he set about his real work.

Zeph had then started to intermittently yell obscenities at him, while at other times lapsing into a sullen silence.

After a short while, he began running out of Lifeforce. Zeph looked relieved when it happened, but her expression soon turned to spluttering horror as she realized that he would soon be able to continue.

He had the ravens set him down, as he created a line of Ropewood pines.

He sent out his Dire Ravens to corral the deer towards the murderous conifers, harassing the deer with dive-bomb attacks of outstretched talons.

Several sickening crunches echoed around the valley as no less than twelve deer died to the tree-shaped deathtraps.

He absorbed the trees and deer, drinking in their Lifeforce, brushing aside the feelings of pleasure from the intake of energy as he busied himself once again. Zeph's sounds of outrage were enjoyable enough. She was so cute when she was mad, her body shifting erratically into jagged abstract shapes.

He had his Dire Ravens lift him off the ground once more, ordering them to lift his high into the air so that he could survey his handiwork.

He ascended higher and higher.

A large swathe of the valley was a riot of color and verdant greenery, the occasional tree popping out from amidst the psychedelic swirl of flowers and plants.

It was beautiful and breathtaking, even Zeph shook her head in wonder, not able to chastise him for what he had created. It was a paradise. Even more so than it had already been.

The valley had previously been a lush green landscape, dotted with flowers.

Now it was as if the sunlight itself had been distilled into a spectrum, enlivened and amplified, then smeared across the valley in a lavish extravaganza of vibrant hues.

They had risen high over the valley, and so, something caught his attention that surpassed even his valley in majesty and grandeur.

Sunlight glinted and danced off a seemingly endless expanse of water. He directed his ravens to carry him closer to it.

Encompassed by a vast ring of snow-capped mountains, through one of the high passes a glorious, awe-inspiring body of water stretched out as far as he could see, disappearing over the horizon. The level of water was thousands of feet higher than the grassy plains he had grown up in, accumulated by countless ages of rain and glacial meltwater from the towering mountaintops that crowned this high-elevation freshwater ocean.

The peaks of submerged and eroded mountains pierced the placid surface in places. In others massive bodies were moving beneath the water, sending hill-sized ripples washing towards the mountaintop shore. These ripples, large though they might be, were dwarfed by the incredible extent of this watery plain.

Both he and Zeph gazed at it for what seemed like hours, marveling at its impossible vastness.

In actuality, it was more than hours.

The sun slowly set over the water, painting it in oranges, golds and reds, the last glimmers of the evening sun sending crimson coruscations shooting between the mountaintops, across the calm high-altitude ocean.

The light had fully faded now, and they regretfully descended to the valley below, but not before they witnessed a flash of fire devouring the grassy hills at the foot of the mountain.

Oh well, not their problem. Although, the region being prone to wildfires would explain why there had been so little life there. He thought for a second, making a connection between the volatile toxins in his Firecoil and the toxins in the hill-grass. Good to know.

Luneil alighted on the upper edge of the valley, acutely aware of the vast body of water on the other side, only a mile of stone between it and him. From what he had seen, he would be underwater at this low elevation.

He pushed the disconcerting thought out of his mind, focusing on Zeph as she strode leisurely through the air down to meet him. She seemed calm and refreshed after watching the sunset with him.

As gently as he could, he asked, So, Zeph, how do I make a Dungeon complex.

Zeph gave him a radiant smile, "First you need to hollow out a cave for yourself. Then I'll show you how to make gaseous mana."