Uno

The blonde princess's reaction was interesting to watch. She just looked at Charles incredulously, her mouth opening and closing a few times, like a fish out of the water. Different emotions swirled in her eyes - surprise, anger, humiliation and then - simple resignation. Too bad, I was getting ready to see how she differed from other people trying to reach my core.

With a sigh Minnalea raised her hands in the air, eliciting surprised grunts from the humans. They all entered a defensive stance, two high-ranking elves behind the princess also trying to move between both parties in a rushed panic. Somebody here was treated as untrustworthy, huh? All she did, however, was turn her head in the direction where her people stood and spout a long series of words in elvish. After speaking her piece she simply turned and stormed away, taking her bodyguard along.

The rest of the room froze in consternation, humans much more weirded out by this than the elves. Thankfully I wasn’t the only one that didn’t understand a word she said.

“Master Vincent?” Whispered Charles, while trying to look calm and collected. “I don’t know elvish. Could you please translate what the princess said?”

“Yes, I should be able to. It was quite quick, but I believe she spoke something along the lines Since you were the ones who wanted to save humans first, then deal with this. I have better things to do than to quarrel with these rude people. So clean up your mess! Idiots.” He whispered back with a quiet chuckle. Charles just stood there for a second, digesting new information.

“She isn’t that different from our princess then.” He responded with a tired sigh, but quickly adopted a noble demeanor noticing that the two well-dressed elves were approaching the human delegation.

“I’m afraid that our meeting started on the wrong foot.” Smiled the larger and more muscular of the two. “My name is Agric Oakbound and I am one of the commanders for this mission.” The scars on his face gave a dark impression which was quickly dispersed by his cheerful demeanor. He walked forward with his hand outstretched and Charles immediately greeted him back.

“Charles Blueflame of house Blueflame.” He repeated, while bowing and pointed towards his companions. “Behind me, you can see Master Vincent, our magic advisor.” The old man in a weird cap cheerfully waved back. “Guild Master Lois, chef of the local adventurers.” The young butcher looked disinterestedly at the half-elves but nodded deeply nonetheless. “And the commander of our military forces - Captain Molan Duree.” The man in question saluted, his eyes never leaving the approaching party and hand - the handle of his sword.

“Nice to meet you.” Agric bowed softly, while half turning towards the last member of his own delegation. “This guy is my co-commander and our resident mage - Ian Sleekit.” Behind him a smaller, more delicate elf was simply observing, his full and childish face somehow more serious than those of his companion. Nonetheless, he bowed deeply when introduced, speaking in a soft tone.

“Hello, humans. I hope we can reach a compromise.”

“And you have to breach the topic this way, Ian.” Mumbled Agric, surprisingly in human language. Then he shook his head. “Let’s negotiate!” He then turned his attention back to the Charles’ group.

“I’m not sure if there’s a need for any negotiation.” Said the red-haired noble, as he stared down the half-elves. “We simply can’t reach the compromise. You want to destroy the Dungeon Core and we want to preserve it. We don’t have anything to talk about.” His head shook in a calculated denial. “And since these are our lands… we don’t intend to budge.” A small smile appeared on his face.

“Yes, yes I know it all. But for now, we need to understand if this place is really a Forgotten Dungeon.” Charles’ raised brow prompted Agric to continue. “You see we don’t really have any proof that this place produces the Magi-Tech Empire era weapons.” He stopped for a moment and I noticed that his companion, Ian, stabbed a finger in his back, likely trying to deliver a message don’t tell them that! The bigger man however simply ignored him and continued. “Because of that, I would ask you to present an electric weapon that our scouts found on the first floor. As a show of good intentions.” Agric smiled widely, staring at the human delegation.

His intention was clear. We know there is a weapon like that. So show it to us or we’ll go check it ourselves was the message. Charles nodded in consent.

“Master Vincent, could you please do so? If I remember correctly the weapons were in your custody for research purposes.” He half-turned, asking the old mage for help.

“Yes, of course. Acolyte, please get me the lightning weapon sample.” A moment later violet robed mage arrived with a wooden box. He carefully moved towards Vincent and deposited it in his hand.

“Thank you.” The old mage smiled, his wrinkled face more focused on the weapon than anyone present.

“Master Vincent?” Charles coughed.

“Ah? Yes, yes, here you go. Please handle it with care, our samples are limited at the moment.” He smiled again while smoothly handing the weapon to the elves.

“I’ll check it out.” It was Ian who intercepted Agric's hands, his eyes glittering with curiosity I more often than not saw in Master Vincent eyes.

He put the box on the ground, unlatching the hatches and opening it impatiently. A small gasp escaped his lips as he stared at my creation, touching it delicately like he was afraid to break it. Then, with a renewed vigor he picked it up and imitated a few wide attacks. Then, with a press of button electricity buzzed on the surface of the weapon, mesmerizing the surrounding crowd.

Then, with a sigh, he turned it off and spoke.

“It’s a Forgotten Dungeon for sure.” He shook his head. “This level of quality is unmistakable. I’m doubly sure because this item uses magical engineering principles, not simple enchantments.”

“What’s the difference?” Asked Charles curiously. I was interested too, not knowing that there was another way of doing this stuff.

The half-elven mage stopped his work for a moment, thinking about correct words to explain.

“It’s hard to say because nowadays the art of enchantment is already lost, but there is a rule of thumb to recognizing these things. When using enchantments an array - you may call it a magic circle - is carved onto the weapon or similar artifact to grant it a special effect. Then the user spends his mana to activate the said effect, feeding it energy. This thing?” He pointed towards my Crackling Mace. “It doesn’t need an activation process. It has energy reserves inside making it perfectly functional in the hands of a non-magical person.”

“So what? You say like it’s a bad thing. That only means that even soldiers who are not gifted with the magic can use it. More versatility is always nice.” He smiled widely. Ian wasn’t having that, his hard stare never leaving my creation.

“So what?! Are you for real? What you have here is a powerful weapon that doesn’t need a mage to operate it. Think about the consequences, human!”

“Hey, elf, don’t get carried away!” Captain Duree stepped forward, not having a random demihuman offending his companion. Surprisingly Charles grabbed him before things escalated.

“What you think is a demerit for the Luna Kingdom counts as an advantage for our Geinard Kingdom. Greater good allows any sacrifice.” The noble bit back, citing something or somebody with a solemn voice, his eyes hardening too. “I guess the half-elves hiding out in their forests don’t know the real meaning of desperation just yet.” A toothy, but cruel smile appeared on his face.

“No matter how hard the war gets our Luna Kingdom will never change or forsake our tenets! We are not like the lesser races!” Ian answered with a heated gaze, pride seeping from his very being, but stopped speaking when Agric put a hand on his shoulder.

“There is no need for hostility. Please.” The bigger elf stepped in. “What matters is that we confirmed that this place is indeed a Forgotten Dungeon.”

“So it means that the Dungeon Core had consumed some of the earlier era technology and is now reproducing it, right?” Lois asked, gathering a bunch of derogatory gazes. “What? I was a common adventurer before. None of this magical bullshit mattered.”

“Yes, you are correct.” Master Vincent decided to get into a teaching mood. “What we call a Forgotten Dungeon is a Dungeon Core which somehow devoured a complicated magical technology of the earlier era and now started to reproduce it. It is worth to mention however that there are many levels to how the dungeon can interact with this new knowledge.”

“You mean it can gain experience and grow?”

“No, nothing so simple. For example - this weapon… it could be that there was an armory containing such lightning maces. Unlikely, but possible. It would be a recreation level. Not really that dangerous, despite what our long-eared friends say.” He smiled warmly in the elves' general direction. “Another possibility would be that the dungeon has acquired a similar item - like the lighting bows we discovered before in other sites. This would mean that the idea behind the weapon was remodeled to fit different criteria. Because of that, it would be called a remodel level. More dangerous, but also more profitable, depending on the point of view.“ Once again his gaze wandered towards the demihumans present in the room.

“And you think that this place is of remodeling type?” Lois made sure.

“Yes.”

“Are there other types?”

“There is one. Transform level. The ability to freely use any acquired technology and implement it into existing designs.” The elves visibly twitched. “Luna Kingdom had a bad case of such dungeon in its infancy, thus the current policies.”

“Could you tell me about it?” Lois asked, for once not bored with the conversation. His eyes glittered like those of a small child.

“I could, but it’s a story for another time. I’m afraid that we have more important things to worry about.” A kindly grandfather-like smile appeared on Master Vincent's wrinkled face. One could nearly forget that he was a powerful mage commanding forces beyond human comprehension.

“Good.” Sighed visibly bored Charles. “Anyway. It doesn’t matter what your intentions are, this is Geinard Kingdom soil and this Forgotten Dungeon is ours!”

“I am sorry, but that may not be true.” Agric smiled apologetically.

“What do you mean?”

“I would assume that you know about the monster wave that assaulted the northern border.”

“Of course. It was the reason we were seeking shelter in these caverns.” Charles nodded warily.

“The great defensive line of the city-bastions was broken. Kojin, Grode and Frist had fallen.” Agric said solemnly, looking at the human’s reaction. A flash of surprise appeared in his eyes when Charles started laughing loudly.

“Hahahahahaha! They have fallen, you say?” He asked, mad light brightening his irises.

“Yes…”

“And what you want us to do?”

“We could offer you shelter and a place to live in exchange for the d-dungeon r-rights.” The elf stuttered his last words, seeing the human noble coming closer. He grabbed his clothes and lifted up struggling longear.

“Fuck off.” The earlier toothy grin wasn’t an illusion. “The Geinard Kingdom is fighting a losing battle against its enemies and you dare to come, offering me abandon it?! Talk about the double standards, you pieces of shit! Noble elves, my ass!” Charles threw the bigger man back, the co-commander landing heavily on the ground and rolling away. He grunted and started to lift his body up.

“And you.” His face turned towards the other elf, Ian already preparing to cast a spell. “Get your companion out of here before my patience completely runs out!”

“You!---” The mage was seething with rage but straightened himself out after seeing a flame appearing suddenly on the human’s hand.

“I wasn’t asking!”

With a huff, the smaller elf dragged his companion out of the tunnel, while glaring at the humans with hatred.

“Was that wise, sir?” Asked Captain Duree.

“It was the only answer I could’ve given. Unless you want to serve as Luna Kingdom watchdog, just like this poor sod following their princess.” Charles shook his head, losing his earlier monstrous look, his figure turning weak and desolate.

“I see.”

“Captain, please get our sentries topside and start rebuilding the outpost. These trees should regrow completely in a week or two, so use the local material.” He ordered in a tired voice.

“Yes, sir!”

“Also keep the elves out of the dungeon. Especially the princess.”

“Why?” It was Lois this time asking the question.

“I have a bad feeling about her. She smells similar to princess Agnes.” He noticed a weird stare from Lois. “What?”

“Smells like… Sir, what have you been doing with your life?” The black-haired man smiled dumbly while licking his lips. He was immediately smacked on his head.

“Ow! What that was for?”

“Do you need to ask?” Charles answered exhaustedly while returning back to the human campsite. Yet thanks to the Lois question the atmosphere turned somewhat lighter.

The humans retreated, same with the elves. The former re-established their outpost on the surface, slowly rebuilding. The latter formed a cordon around the place, living off the land (which was impressive, considering that most of the surface was either a wasteland or under the thrall of my metallic dominion).

And I?

I was killing off the last waves of the invaders.

According to the Ratlings, most of the kobolds, goblins and other small monsters were already exterminated. A few last bastions of opposition were found and summarily razed. Their guerilla warfare turned most of the rat tunnels into the death-traps and taught the survivors valuable lessons in the art of battle.

My rats were hardier, more ruthless, and more opportunistic when fighting.

More importantly, when killing the last of the mutated kobolds the rat’s vanguard discovered something interesting. They cowardly kobolds were defending with a frenzy earlier unseen, throwing their scaled bodies against the Ratlings enhanced claws in the futile attempt to stop them. The advancing units were getting the worst of it, nearly half of the rats wounded or dead.

In the end, we managed to conquer the nest only to find out what they were defending.

Eggs.

A clutch of eggs - there were thirty-six of them to be exact. Unlike the ones we fought - with damaged limbs, weird growths, and blind eyes - they were looking surprisingly healthy. Still, their loyalty after birth was not guaranteed, so I decided to use my ultimate move…

Which was to have them transported near my Mechanical Core Gem and then converted into dungeon lifeforms. It would be a waste to learn that I had such ability and then simply forget about it, right?

Under my command, both Lebirs and Ratlings did their best moving an egg after egg into the underwater chamber, where they were carefully put on the ground - like offerings before a pagan god.

This was also the place where I moved Guardian, who until now was boredly staring at the enclosed walls. Because of these new additions he once again grew lively.

[Can I name them, my lord?] He asked pleadingly over our mental link.

[Yes, yes, you can do whatever you want with them. Pet them, eat them, train them… whatever. Once they’re born and my secondary Core will convert them I’ll get the blueprints… so you can do what you want with them.]

[Thank you!] He was somehow able to transmit his feeling of contention across. [I should ask the smith golem to make some armor and weapons for them.] He mumbled more to himself, than to me.

[Do as you wish.] I closed up the link before more of his inane ideas bleed through.

I turned my attention to the last invaders instead.

A group of them was moving into the Underground Lake Room. Should I say another group? These creatures simply didn’t learn. My Ratlings already understood that the Glass Progenitor attacked anything that produced vibrations, be it sound or movement, so their scout teams wore special “boots” over their paws.

The invading orcs and lizardmen didn’t use any precautionary measures. They simply charged forward, no preparation, scouting or anything. Because of that, I was a witness to another bloody scene. Two of the lizardmen decided to go for a swim (who knows why?), their sleek, yet deformed forms were cleanly cutting through the dark water. It took only a few seconds for the Progenitor to recognize that the food was on the table. It snatched the lizards in one fell swoop, dragging them down to its enormous maw, turning the water red after a first chomp.

The rest of the warriors - about twenty or so - understood that there was something dangerous in the lake and bolted towards the nearest door. Sadly instead retreating they choose to run towards the room at the far end of the artificial coast. Three more warriors were picked up by the hungry Progenitor when the first of the runners arrived at the closed doors.

He jerked the handle back only to get skewered by the suddenly appearing spear. The rest screamed something - curses, maybe? - and hesitated for long enough to have two more of their number snatched. Roaring loudly they disappeared under the water, saturating it with even more red color.

This forced the rest of the band to advance.

And advance they did - right into the spikes, water cutters and - as a final touch - the spear pit. Only one orc managed to stagger back, his body cut and battered, hyperventilating sob and enlarged irises a clear sign of shock.

Too bad that the Glass Progenitor was still hungry.

Seeing that these invaders were dealt with I moved to the other points of resistance, only to notice that my creatures were having a field day with the attackers. One of those was in the middle of the Metallic Jungle Room, just south from the Central Pond. It was a training place for both my Air Force Ratlings using their Tamed Dragonflies and Ironflame Rats.

Their cooperation was perfect - the flying rats were harassing enemy, while small, self-sufficient teams of Temple Warriors and common Ironflames were cutting down enemy numbers with a combination of fireballs and good old melee.

One by one.

The jungle was full of screams, the otherwise silvery trees singed with flames or blood. They would get reclaimed soon, returning to the area earlier look.

Some battles were also raging to the north and east from the main room, but those were mostly confined to small exchanges between Lebirs and the enemies. With Lebirs Captains thrown in the mix, not to mention a random Lebir Exploder or Electro-Touched appearing it was a battle of attrition.

One that I was winning.

Which forced me to consider another question.

What should I do with the Central Pond Room? Right now it looked more like a moonscape than the forest full of vitality. I guess that was how the unrestricted usage of Exploding Lebirs changed the environment. Something in me wanted to leave it how it was, to spread fear and awe in my would-be-conquerors. On the other hand, the trees and small hills made spotting my fiery surprises that much harder.

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

Not to mention that the third floor was still being dugout. I needed the place for experiments, but also to turn my ideas into reality. And, of course, start both my Ratling Enhancement Plan and Fuck You Anima Plan.

Non, Iron-melded Revenant

Geinard Kingdom Capital - Shieldstar

The journey towards the country's capital should take about a month for a prepared wanderer. Yet such speed was normal only if considering that they needed to sleep, defend against the dangerous beasts, as well as eat and shit.

These constraints were no longer binding for the undead being that Tinna turned into. She ran forward with a single-minded conviction, a burning feeling of revenge. Her figure disappeared from shadow to shadow during the days, with the nights being full of long jumps.

Doing so Non didn’t care about being seen, birthing rumors about the dark maiden traversing the shadows while clad in metallic armor.

Thanks to that she arrived at Shieldstar in about two weeks since her birth. The imposing walls and gates meant nothing for one wandering the night. She teleported to the battlements in a span of a second, surprising one of the patrolling guards. Before the man could confirm whenever what he saw was an illusion or not she disappeared from his sight.

Sloppy. Would her instructor say. In the other life, in the other time. Was he alive too.

She didn’t care.

With a steady gait she disappeared in the alley, her half-naked body drawing glances, but nothing more. She looked like an adventurer and the look of her armor suggested a magical nature. There weren’t many people stupid enough to mingle with such a dangerous person. Not on the streets, anyway.

The pickpocket who followed her into the alley looked around in confusion. She was gone. With a shrug, the young thief returned to his everyday tasks.

Non decided to first check on the place where her sisters lived. While the Core has been accommodating and the Goddess sympathetic she wasn’t able to trust them before confirming her siblings' whereabouts with her own eyes.

She found that their place in the orphanage had been taken, two small boys sleeping in the bed where her family once laid. It took all her willpower to not strangle the life out of them.

Instead, she appeared in the nuns quarters - to interrogate the woman she once loved like a mother. The one who took care of all the things happening in this place. Mother Superior she was called. Nobody bothered with her real name.

Non’s shadowy figure appeared from the darkness, scaring the older nun. She opened her mouth to scream, only to have it covered with cold, armored fingers.

“Shut… up.” Groaned the figure. Only when she nodded in compliance the dangerous hands relented.

“Please, please don’t kill me! I’m nobody, I don’t know who are you searching for, but it’s a simple orphanage… please!” The old woman bowed deeply, her body trembling, a voice no more than a whisper.

“Jo-anne. Be-ria. Whe-re?” Asked the armored figure and the nun suddenly raised her head.

“Tinna, is that you? Child, what happened?” She asked, trembling still.

“Answer.” A simple word spewed like a curse.

“B-but… you should already know. I sent letters, I told the overseer…” Her voice cracked, a realization dawning on her face. “Oh please, don’t kill me! Please! I had nothing to do with it!”

“An-swer.”

“They died… a few years ago. The overseer deemed them unfit for duty and stopped their rations. They starved to death… I am sorry.” A few tears escaped the nun’s tightly closed eyes.

The undead Non was also trembling. A wave of cold anger was currently coursing through her veins. She glared at the kneeling woman.

“Over-see-er… Hening?” She asked coldly.

“Y-yes.”

Non nodded. She remembered. There were many things, many memories she had forgotten, but in the end, only the revenge mattered. With a single-arm, she lifted the struggling woman up in the air.

“P-please!” She begged, struggling to get free. “T-the other, other children will die… without me…” She whispered the last few words, clearly losing her breath. “H-have mercy…”

“No.”

With a swift movement, she separated the woman’s head from her neck. These enchanted daggers are no joke. The body fell to the ground with a dull thud. Then blood started to seep into the carpet, dying it red.

Non only stared at the scene of the carnage. All was silent. Then she curled up her fists. Unknowingly her mouth stretched in a wild, inhuman smile.

“Hen-ning.”

A moment later the shadows fluttered and she was gone.

Her revenge was not yet complete.