Chapter 19

Patrolling the refugee column, Emelia kept a wary eye on the swamplands around them. Thanks to the Wards supplied by the Goblin Shamans and Ushu, there was minimal risk of a wild monster sneaking up on them. However, the Wards did nothing to stop the attempted ambushes by the enemy Deep Orcs.

In spite of reaching the swamplands ahead of the Deep Orc fleet that had pursued them, there were still Deep Orcs waiting for them in the swamplands. The only upside was that the Deep Orcs were far too large to effectively blend in with the environment and were attacked by the wild monsters as much as the refugees were, more even, since they lacked Wards of their own for whatever reason.

There was something else as well, the Deep Orcs were sick. Even though Nadine was far too exhausted to spare the time to look at them, Emelia was convinced it was the same sickness Ushu and his people had developed while fleeing through the swamp. But it didn’t make sense. Why was their leader throwing away their lives like this?

Emelia had little time to dwell on her musings as one of her Goblin warrior escorts spotted another likely ambush point up ahead.

“More pale ones hiding,” Chuti hissed angrily, motioning to a fallen tree further ahead of the refugee column.

“Stupid hiding place,” Filo agreed from his vantage point on Beaky’s back.

Emelia had volunteered the giant predatory bird for scouting duties, but unlike Clarice, she lacked the confidence to use Beaky as a battle mount herself. The Goblin Elders had leapt at the opportunity to make use of a swift-moving predator for reconnaissance, which thankfully spared Shady, Tobi’s Shadowcat, the risks that would accompany the role.

In truth, Emelia had only really volunteered Beaky because she had overheard one of the Goblin elders attempting to pressure Tobi for the use of Shady. Knowing how attached he was to his Shadowcat, Emelia had volunteered Beaky in Shady’s place. If worse came to worst, she could always tame another one...

Emelia and Chuti approached the Deep Orcs hiding place while Filo took a circuitous route to flank the ambush site from another angle.

Drawing closer, Emelia had a distinct impression that something wasn’t quite right.

As Filo closed in to agitate the Deep Orcs lying in ambush, he suddenly drew back hard on Beaky’s reins.

Expecting the Goblin warrior to have abruptly halted to avoid a small volley of crossbow bolts, Emelia was surprised to see that Filo made no signs of raising his shield to protect himself against any projectiles.

“Orcs look dead!” Filo called out warily while slowly drawing closer to take a better look.

This was not the first group of ambushers they had found dead or debilitated by illness. However, it also wasn’t the first group they had encountered feigning death in order to draw them in closer either.

Emelia and Chuti both raised their crossbows towards the would-be ambushers hiding place and waited.

Filo dismounted and closed the remaining distance on foot. With a long thin spear and small bark shield at the ready, the Goblin warrior was literally going to poke the Deep Orcs bodies to see if they would react.

Contrary to what some people may think, Filo not being mounted while doing the poking was because it made dodging away from the hulking Deep Orcs so much easier and avoided the giant flightless bird being caught as collateral damage. Besides, Beaky was far more effective while mobile than when caught standing still.

Filo briefly disappeared from Emelia’s line of sight, but he reappeared again almost immediately, vaulting backwards and flying through the air towards Beaky.

A lone Deep Orc staggered out of the hiding place a few moments later.

Chuti immediately lined up her shot and fired.

*Thwap*

Chuti’s shot flew true and caught the Deep Orc in its throat, causing it to stumble to its knees and wetly gasp for breath.

Emelia carefully handed Chuti her own still loaded crossbow and accepted Chuti’s unloaded one in turn. They had figured out rather early on that Chuti was a far better shot, so Emelia would prioritise reloading the scavenged crossbows when the situations allowed for it. Besides, originally created by the Deep Orcs, even the strongest Goblin warriors struggled to draw the string back on the crossbows to reload them.

“Two!” Filo called out excitedly as he nimbly began dodging about in the middle ground between the ambushers hiding place and where Emelia and Chuti were taking cover by a tree.

Grunting from the effort of drawing back the arms of the crossbow, Emelia sighed in relief as the cord caught on the trigger mechanism.

*Thunk*

A crossbow bolt struck the tree a foot or so from her head, and Emelia was grateful to see Chuti rapidly adjust her aim and fire back at the enemy crossbowman.

“Gra!” The delayed cry after Chuti’s shot, filled Emelia with relief as she carefully handed over the freshly prepared crossbow.

*Tang*

Filo’s spear impacted harmlessly against the crude iron chest plate of a Deep Orc that was charging across the open ground towards Emelia and Chuti.

“For the bright lord!” The Deep Orc roared and raised its axe high for a killing blow.

Chuti quickly slapped a bolt onto her crossbow and fired.

*Thunk*

The shot went wide and caught the Deep Orc in the pit of his left elbow, unfortunately only accomplishing impairing the left arm and enraging the already terrifying mountain of muscle and iron plates hurtling towards them.

With no time to prepare another crossbow, Emelia hastily drew her short sword and Chuti withdrew a pair of primitive punching knives. Sparing only a brief glance towards one another, Emelia and Chuti dashed off in different directions.

Briefly ducking back behind the tree and headed off to take a circuitous route towards Beaky, Emelia nearly despaired when she found the Deep Orc had chosen her as its target, seemingly in spite of the Goblin Chuti being the one who actually wounded him.

“Damnit!” Emelia cursed and willed for Beaky to come to her aid.

“Craw!” Beaky immediately sprang into action, clearing the distance in less than a couple of seconds.

*Dwump*

The bird's giant beak smacked into the unprepared Deep Orc’s chest and sent him sprawling into the mud.

Rather than becoming engaged in a protracted melee, Beaky continued running past and circled around for another pass.

“Archer!” Filo’s warning came nearly too late as Emelia barely dropped to the ground in time to hear a crossbow bolt pass by overhead. Despite being wounded, it was obvious that the Deep Orcs crossbowman was not out of the fight just yet.

*Thump*

Beaky battered the Deep Orc as he tried regaining his feet, knocking him down into the mud again.

Chuti was no longer retreating, instead, she was now hastily and somewhat cautiously approaching the fallen Deep Orc.

The fight ended rather abruptly as reinforcements from the refugee column arrived and filled the largest Deep Orc with bolts. Meanwhile, Filo was able to harry the crossbowman long enough for Chuti and other goblin warriors to join him and mob the Deep Orc in a way that only Goblins seemed capable of.

Or at least that is how it should have ended.

Distracted by the spectacle of ten Goblins mobbing the single Deep Orc crossbowman, Emelia was very nearly blindsided as the fallen Deep Orc riddled with crossbow bolts jerkily rose to his feet.

There was another scattered volley of crossbow bolts from the relief team, although there were far fewer loaded crossbows to fire with.

The Deep Orc staggered under the impacts but made no sound, instead it unsteadily but purposefully lumbering towards the nearest Goblin.

Something was very wrong.

“Enslavement!” Emelia cried, pointing her shortsword at the aberrant Deep Orc. To her surprise, a Status Alert appeared almost immediately, but she was too flustered to read it. Nadine had explicitly warned her not to use this ability in front of their Goblin allies, but Emelia couldn’t shake the feeling that something was incredibly wrong. “Stop!” She commanded, willing the Deep Orc to fall still so it would either succumb to its wounds and die, or give them time to put it down.

The Deep Orc continued on regardless, seemingly oblivious to her command.

Emelia felt an icy chill run down her back and took an involuntary step backwards.

*Thunk*

A lone crossbow bolt drove through the visor of the Deep Orc’s helmet and a half-second later, it collapsed to the ground.

A second Status Alert, no doubt the death of the Deep Orc appeared in front of Emelia’s eyes. However, much like the first, she was too excited to stop the letters from moving around enough to read them.

“Emelia!” Tobi called out worriedly as he rushed over from the refugee column. The Goblins made way for him and Tobi warily skirted the corpse of the Deep Orc, “Don’t touch it!” he warned the goblins as they began closing in to salvage their ammunition. There was the unmistakable pitchiness in Tobi’s voice that he reserved for when he was truly afraid, and that only unnerved Emelia even more.

As much as Emelia liked Tobi, she was still far too embarrassed to admit to her...condition. So she waited to see if he would explain what it was that had him so worried. Tobi’s sudden arrival and warning made it abundantly clear that there had been something in the Status Alerts that worried him, and so long as Emelia waited, she would know what it was too. Not being able to read whenever she wanted was inconvenient and frustrating, but it was baffling how often other people would do it for Emelia if she was patient and waited.

“It didn’t touch you did it?” Tobi asked worriedly, critically looking her over front and back before calming down.

Emelia shook her head, “No, it didn’t make it any further than what you saw,” she explained, her slight upward inflection suggesting Emelia wanted to know why he was being so careful.

Tobi let out a deep sigh in relief, “You probably haven’t had much experience with Ghouls in Hurst, but you remember how I told you my family is from Mornbrent?”

Emelia nodded.

“Well, the Mornbrent Labyrinth is sort of famous for the fact that it is very nearly overrun with undead type monsters like that Ghoul,” Tobi shakily pointed at the fallen Deep Orc for emphasis.

“What makes them so dangerous?” Emelia asked nervously, edging further away from the body.

Tobi seemed only too keen to put more distance between them and the seeming corpse, “Certain undead types, like the Ghoul, Curse their victims through touch, and if you die while Cursed...well...you come back as a Ghoul.”

Emelia gulped hard and backed further away.

“We need to let the Guild representatives know about this,” Tobi groaned dejectedly, apparently no keener on interacting with the guild than with the Ghoul itself.

Leaving alongside Tobi, Emelia gave the Ghouls corpse as wide a berth as possible. She had heard enough stories about undead monsters to be terrified of them and decided that she would not leave Tobi’s side until they managed to return to the safety of Sanctuary.

*****

“AHAHAHAHA!” Qreet cackled maniacally as the swamplands rapidly took shape beneath her and Hana’s combined wills. Already able to sense mana, the moment Lash invited Hana to her retinue, every Daemon immediately unlocked the Druid Advanced Class through the shared synergies of our combined party and retinues. Consequently, with no small amount of encouragement from Hana, Qreet and four other one-horned Daemons eagerly accepted the Class and got to work.

In spite of their essences being heavily divided, the Daemons seemed to have no problems maintaining a gruelling development regimen. Which was definitely for the best, since Hana’s presence beyond the Barrier had seemingly driven the monsters in the surrounding swamplands insane.

Drawn like moths to a flame, the wild monsters of the swamp surged towards Hana at the centre of the terraformed territory with suicidal levels of abandon. It took the full deployment of every able-bodied Deep Orc and a full half of the adult Serpent-Kin, to hold the territory while the Druids worked their magic.

With so many monsters assaulting our position and Hana and the Daemon Druids hastily disguised in large robes purchased from the vendor, I had been forced to issue a quest specifically targeting the human soldiers to encourage them to remain within their camp.

Unsurprisingly, according to reports from our scouts, the humans seemed to have leapt at the opportunity and according to the quests instructions, were diligently standing in parade formation and performing marching drills in the confines of their camp. Even though the Exp would likely be minimal, it was still nonetheless free of risk which made it valuable in its way.

Besides, Cpt. Klive and I had come to an agreement that he and his soldiers would remain confined to their current camp while the grounds were developed for their new and more permanent encampment.

I wasn’t a complete idiot, so I made sure that while the army’s permanent encampment would be relatively close, it would still require a somewhat circuitous route along a winding raised pathway in order to approach Sanctuary. While I had been given no reason to suspect Cpt. Klive could not be trusted, I was not willing to be burned for a second time. After all, the adventurer Guild manager had seemed trustworthy too, right up until he wasn’t.

For my part, I wasn’t content to slack off either. This world was a dangerous and violent place, and in order to protect those I cared about and those who depend on me, I would need to embrace those elements fully.

Just as I had made a quest for the humans to keep them holed up in their camp, I had also made a quest for our benefit, awarding bonus Exp for anyone defending Hana based upon their contributions. It was a loophole of sorts I had recognised in the framework of quest giving. Timed events and those based on contributions awarded far more Exp than simply assigning a repeatable kill target. Even though the end result was technically the same, the volume of Exp was around forty percent greater and had additional bonuses for those who ranked the highest.

With three sets of the Eminence Class Ability harvesting bonus Exp and storing it in the Totem, It truly boggled my mind that it was possible to drastically and literally farm Exp like this.

Through the combined efforts of the Daemons below and my own efforts here above the ground, I had already reached level ten and gained two new Class Abilities.

[(Class Ability: War Banner {Rank 0}): Claim dominance over the battlefield and embolden your Allies. Requires a suitable object to serve as your banner. The effect will end if the banner falls or is claimed by an enemy. Expend MP to give all Allies within range of the War Banner the {Brave} or {Stoic} Condition. Maximum number of Banners determined by {Presence} (0:1)]

[(Class Ability: Heart of the Clan {Rank 0}): Your very presence inspires and empowers your Allies. Allies within range benefit from Racial Abilities available through your Primary Settlement Totem. {Willpower} and {Presence} increase the range of the effect.]

I hadn’t quite understood what Heart of the Clan had meant until a lull in the fighting gave me a chance to really think about it. In hindsight, it was obvious. The ability was telling me that it was possible to acquire additional Settlements. How exactly I was meant to go about doing that, I wasn’t really sure, but it certainly made future prospects rather interesting all the same.

Better still, Lash and Hana were both levelling as fast as I was and had gotten interesting abilities of their own.

[(Class Ability: Retribution {Rank 2}): Expend MP to return damage taken against an enemy within range. {Willpower} increases the range and damage of the effect.]

[(Class Ability: Bulwark {Rank 0}): Parry and block enemy attacks with increased momentum. {Strength} increases the effect.]

By all accounts, Lash’s Warden Class was specialized in defence and was becoming even more so with each new ability she gained. On the upside, it provided a reasonable excuse to encourage her to use a shield.

While Deep Orc armour was thick, the iron plates were reinforced and backed with hardened leather, but it still had a myriad of weak points and exposed surfaces. The addition of even a small shield could make a significant difference.

Reading through Lash’s new abilities also reminded me that I had never actually read Hana’s Arch Druid starting Class Abilities.

[(Class Ability: Plant Growth {Rank 2}): Guide and accelerate the growth of vegetation by expending MP. {Willpower} increases the effect.]

[(Class Ability: Grove Tender {Rank 2}): Form a Grove to serve as a natural Mana Well in a suitable location. Gain increased MP regeneration while within range of the Grove.]

[(Class Ability: Regenerative Regrowth {Rank 2}): Vegetation within range {Regenerates} at an accelerated rate. {Willpower} increases the range of the effect.]

[(Class Ability: Wyrd Wood {Rank 2}): Impart limited sentience to suitable vegetation by expending MP. Maximum number of Wyrds is determined by {Willpower} (0/3).]

[(Class Ability: Nature's Own {Rank 0}): Gain substantial resistance to Disease and Poison. {Toughness} and {Willpower} increases the effect.]

Hana’s Arch Druid Class had only gotten stranger. I mean, I couldn’t help but think of the walking tree people from a popular fantasy movie franchise after reading the Wyrd Wood Class Ability. Treants, I think, was the mythological term for them. Unfortunately, with all her mana being spent on terraforming the land, Hana had no real-time for experimenting with the ability. Or so I had assumed.

No less than two minutes after reaching tenth level, Hana briefly redirected her attention to the centre of the terraformed land and pulsed a strong wave of mana that soaked into the ground.

A few moments later, a tiny sapling slowly grew out of the ground and began to emanate mana matching Hana’s own.

Hana strode over to the sapling, knelt down and cradled it lovingly between her hands. Gathering mana in her hands, the sapling within underwent explosive growth and Hana was forced to step backwards. In under a minute, the sapling had swollen into a strange macabre pod and had begun to split open, disgorging a sickeningly sweet-smelling slurry.

All at once, the pod seemed to explode, sending the skin and slurry flying in all directions and revealing a gnarled seed roughly six feet in diameter.

Before I had the chance to ask Hana what the hell she was doing, Hana gathered mana in her right hand again and gently caressed the exposed seed.

Under Hana’s touch, the surface of the seed cracked and pulled apart. Some of the seed casing fell away, but most shrunk back on itself as if withering under an intense heat. The retraction of the shell revealed a tangled mess of what appeared to be roots and branches. However, the branches and roots stiffly began to separate from one another and revealed a roughly humanoid figure.

Not so much concealed by the outer branches and roots as I initially thought, they were evidently part of the creature's body itself. Initially curled in an upright fetal position, with its arms and legs hugged tight to its chest, the Wyrd stiffly began uncurling its limbs and standing under its own weight. A rather impressive feat given that it looked to weigh at least half a ton.

Easily ten-foot-tall or more, the Wyrd somewhat resembled a wiry framed woman crossed with a tree. Although it seemed quite clumsy, the Wyrd nonetheless made its way towards the nearby defensive line with an implacable surety of purpose.

Hana gave her creation a determined nod before returning to her original task.

Curious as to why Hana did not raise a second, I quickly realised that it wasn’t needed.

The Wyrd took to the battle with single-minded determination and ruthless brutality. Crushing and strangling smaller prey underfoot, the Wyrd anchored its roots into the ground and crushed its enemies like a vice. Those facing its grasping hands fared little better. Capable of extending and retracting its arms at will, the Wyrd snatched up any wild monster that came within a dozen feet of it, and tore them in half, emotionlessly discarding the remains before pursuing its next target.

With the Wyrd taking a great deal of pressure off the battle line, there was less of a need for my presence. However, as tempted as I was to leave the fighting to others, I decided that I needed far more practice to temper my aggression. Twice today alone, I had lost track of myself in the bloodshed and violence. Each time, there had been no warning. I would just suddenly become aware of myself again with an unexplainable absence in memory. The only correlation I had found was that it seemed to accompany a prolonged intensity of aggression, but that was not particularly helpful.

With that in mind, I ordered the most tired to step back and recuperate. We were due for a break soon anyway, but recovering the remains of the wild monsters was bound to be a taxing affair and I doubted the Serpent-Kin currently held in reserve would be able to manage it on their own.

Admittedly, killing snakes, crabs, crocodiles and even the Mud Dolls, was a poor substitute for actual weapons practice. Fighting beast type monsters was completely different to fighting humanoid ones with weapons. With how my life was headed, it was the latter I desperately needed more familiarity with.

As Hana, Qreet and the other Daemons mana waned, the scheduled retreat was called and the final sleds carrying retrieved monster corpses were shepherded back to the safety of Sanctuary.

Between the six of them, they had more or less terraformed a patch of swampland half the size of Sanctuary in under four hours of near-continuous effort. Only the promised supply of fresh clean water was yet to be fulfilled, but I doubted it would take Hana long to teach Qreet and the other Daemon Druids the trick and they would have it sorted out in no time.

More importantly than the terraforming project, the absence of Status Alerts made it clear that the Daemons Exp farming down below had come to an end as well. Curious as to why exactly we had been swarmed by the wild monsters to begin with, I went looking for Gric in search of answers. Assumedly, since the Exp was no longer flowing, both he and the other Daemons would be unable to sustain their projected forms for long, so I just needed to seek out the original in our makeshift dungeon.

On my way to the Grove. I noticed a bustling baggage train of Serpent-Kin and Daemons stretching off in the direction of the underground tunnel. The sheer volume of meat, hide and bone had already formed a veritable mountain near the cooking fires, where the valiant volunteers doggedly set about butchering the best cuts of meat and discarding the offal into the fishing pond.

With no need to go fishing, the denizens of the pond were given free rein to dispose of the discarded innards.

I couldn’t help but snort derisively at myself as I recalled how I had once been concerned we would not be able to provide enough food for everyone to eat. It seemed almost perverse that we now had more food than we could possibly eat before it went bad. It was not a bad problem to have, considering the available means of waste disposal, but such overabundance was difficult to get my head around.

Entering the Grove, my attention was immediately drawn to Ril and Toofy, who were playing by the fountain. Or, more accurately, Ril playing in the fountain and Toofy handstand walking along the rim.

To my knowledge, Ril had not left the fountain since shortly after returning to Sanctuary, so Toofy had not left the immediate vicinity either. Clutching the magical jewel possessively, Ril nervously watched me pass by the fountain and even surreptitiously distanced herself from the rim as if fearing I would take it from her.

Letting out a sigh, I shook my head and continued towards the underground prison. Currently home to only the npc Tailor Vendor and the Angel. Each of them were afforded rather sizable accommodations. Although I doubted either of them truly appreciated it.

Entering the Angel Orphiel’s cell, I found Gric was exactly where I had last seen him, however, the Angel seemed...off. Eyes wide and staring at the wall, the only sign the Angel was even alive came from the nearly imperceptible trembling of his lips.

Having left the Angel in Gric’s care, I was beginning to feel a niggling sense of guilt. All the more so since I had used its advice to cure Lash and then left it to...whatever it was Gric was doing to it.

I roughly cleared my throat to get Gric’s attention, “Gric? I want a report on what happened down below,” I commanded authoritatively.

Gric blinked and took a moment to get his bearings. “Lord?!” He grinned toothily upon having noticed my presence, “The below? Of course!”

Orphiel gasped and began gulping down air as if he had very nearly drowned.

“It was a trap Lord, part of the dungeon,” Gric grinned wider, “But the trap was not intended for you or indeed, for us at all. Merely a happy accident.”

“What? How does a trap send infinite waves of enemies at us like that?” I demanded incredulously, more in terms of general principle than lack of understanding. After all, I had already lived through three such examples already.

Gric shrugged, “It is the Labyrinth’s will,” he replied somewhat dismissively.

“Tch...” Orphiel cringed but said nothing.

“Ah, yes. I have good news for you, Lord. The ‘Fallen’ Angel Orphiel has seen the error in his ways and wishes to serve you!” Emphasising the word Fallen, Gric seemed particularly ecstatic by the news, while Orphiel made no signs one way or the other.

“Is this true?” I tried my best to keep my voice free of emotion. I was already feeling guilty over leaving Orphiel in Gric’s care, but I didn’t want to give him any bargaining leverage.

“You may speak,” Gric encouraged the Fallen Angel.

Cringing, Orphiel made to speak and winced.

Gric chuckled, “Speak,” he repeated.

“I will serve...” Orphiel croaked quietly.

“Can we trust him?” I asked Gric bluntly, “What will stop him from betraying us the moment the collar is removed?”

“He will swear a Soul Oath of Service. To betray you Lord would result in his immediate death and indefinite annihilation,” Gric explained the last with a disturbingly intense degree of pleasure.

“But it isn’t like the collar right? He won’t just immediately die, or have his brain melted by disobeying me?” I asked pointedly. I would honestly rather kill the Fallen Angel here and now, than to subject it to literal slavery. “So long as the oath prevents him from plotting against us or betraying us to outsiders, then that is enough.”

Orphiel looked shocked, as did Gric.

“My Lord,” Gric anxiously flexed his fingers, “The hosts of Elysium are treacherous and prone to all manner of deviousness if left unchecked-” He glared balefully at Orphiel, “-so it is best to keep them on a tight leash!”

Orphiel flinched bodily and shrunk away from Gric. The behaviour only exacerbated my mounting sense of guilt in having let things get so far out of hand. After all, the Fallen Angel seemed to be no older than fifteen years old, and was so obviously traumatised that I couldn’t help but nervously wonder if this world had its own form of S.W.A.T.

“No, Gric. So long as, Orphiel... So long as he swears a binding oath not to betray us or attempt to bring us harm, he will be free to leave,” I had made my decision. Objectively an emotionally charged one, but I would much rather live with the consequences than continue being party to...whatever this had been.

Gric frowned with intense dissatisfaction but tactfully held his tongue.

“You would let me leave?” Orphiel croaked in disbelief.

“Yes,” I agreed bluntly, “You have attacked my people unprovoked, but the harm done is already removed, and I suspect Gric has already exacted a punishment fitting that crime,” I explained dryly. “If you swear upon your soul to leave me and my people be, you will be allowed to leave.”

The Fallen Angel said nothing, his eyes stared intensely into mine as if searching for something. Having found what he was looking for, or perhaps having given up, Orphiel broke eye contact and cast his gaze downward. “I swear to this,” he whispered, yet the words boomed as loud as thunder.

The Fallen Angel radiated a faint golden light that quickly took the form of interlinked chains over his body briefly before they disappeared.

“Is that it?” I asked sceptically.

“Yes Lord,” Gric confirmed somewhat disappointedly.

“I want to stay!” Orphiel’s sudden outburst caught both Gric and myself off guard.

“What?” I demanded incredulously.

The Fallen Angel gulped dryly and shrunk back under my bared suspicion, “I want to stay...” Orphiel repeated, “I-If there is a chance I can reverse the wrong maybe...”

Gric noticeably relaxed, “He believes he can return to grace,” he snorted in amusement.

Orphiel clenched his fists determinedly but said nothing.

“Lord,” Gric stepped partway between myself and Orphiel to seize my attention, “This is actually a valuable opportunity. Recruiting one of the fallen to the fold will almost certainly unlock Rulership Class advancements for us both!”

Orphiel winced, but again, said nothing.

Besides Gric’s sudden excitement, I didn’t see any immediate problems with the idea of the Fallen Angel joining Sanctuary. Whatever debt he owed, I had little doubt that Gric had made him pay for it tenfold. The fact that Orphiel had also already sworn an oath on the pain of his immediate death not to betray or harm us was a point strongly in his favour. The possibility that he could still find a way to serve as a spy existed, but if Gric had guessed Orphiel’s intentions correctly, then there was actually nothing to fear.

“What was your oath?” I asked curiously, wanting to confirm my suspicions, “The one that caused your..fall from grace.”

Orphiel shuddered and hung his head in shame, “I...I harmed an innocent...” He whispered despondently.

Gric sneered contemptuously but said nothing.

I had thought as much. Whatever beef existed between Angels and Daemons in this world, Orphiel had apparently not anticipated his oath being broken by accidentally harming a Daemon. As savage as the Daemons could be, it seemed weird that Orphiel would openly attack them like that unless he assumed they were ‘guilty’ in the first place.

“Why did you attack the Daemons then? Why did you assume they were not innocent?” I prompted. There was something more to this rivalry, and I needed to hear the other side of it before asking Gric.

“It has always been so...” Orphiel replied bitterly, “They have always served the most vile and despicable of masters. To commit slaughter and genocide at their masters whim is their most ardent pleasure!”

I flinched. I just couldn’t help it. I knew enough of the Daemons to know better than argue with the Fallen Angel. If I ordered them to, the Daemons would do just as he said and worse if I willed it so. “But you would join alongside them?” I asked warily.

The fire left Orphiel’s eyes and he hung his head, “Yes...” He replied resignedly, “I have no other path left to take...Better to seek my redemption in perdition, than seek Absolution in Elysium”

The way Orphiel spoke the last portion sent a shiver down my spine.

What the hell was wrong with this world’s Angels?!

“May I?!” Gric asked eagerly, positively brimming with excitement.

I was about to say yes, but I noticed Orphiel still had the slave collar around his neck. “Remove the collar first,” I commanded, “Then if Orphiel truly wishes to join us, you can extend the invitation.” While I didn’t doubt Gric’s intentions, I still felt like it would be best if I kept a closer eye on his activities moving forward.

Gric complied and removed Orphiel’s collar, offering it back to me.

Reluctantly accepting the collar, if only to remove further temptation from Gric, I motioned for him to proceed.

[Settlement Alert {Sanctuary}: {Orphiel - Fallen Angel} was recruited by {Underlord Gric} as a minion.]

For a moment, nothing really happened, then Gric began to smile.

“Yesssss!” Gric pumped his fists in excitement, “Lord! I can now arbitrate summoning contracts on behalf of our minions!”

I just stared blankly at Gric and waited for him to elaborate.

“Lord? Are you not pleased?” Gric asked worriedly.

“I don’t know what arbitrating those contracts means Gric. Why would you think I did?” I demanded dryly.

Gric seemed to take the criticism in stride, “It means that I may now accept and reject attempted summons on behalf of all lower-ranked Daemons! Should you wish it, we can serve as both mercenaries and spies throughout the Labyrinths!” His enthusiasm ebbed somewhat, “Though it will be limited by the scope of our perceived value of course...”

“Are Summoner and Pact Binder classes so common as to allow for that?” I asked dubiously. I had not seen a single adventurer like that on the first floor, nor heard Nadine, Clarice or Emelia speak of them either. Considering how monumentally overpowered the summoning and Pact Binder Classes had proven themselves to be, it seemed unlikely for them to fly under the radar like that.

Gric’s grin took a sudden manic intensity, “Not yet!” He admitted, “But they could be!”

He was right...Unlocking those classes had only two requirements so far as I could tell. First, to witness a summoning first hand, and second, to interact with a summoned creature. The problem with this method was that it would mean teaching someone the Classes in the first place. Once the Classes were out there, it would be almost impossible for them not to spread, but was that a good thing?

I supposed that given the limited supply of Daemons to fill the contracted roles, it would stop an over-saturation. I mean, Asra had been popping manastones like candy to fuel his Daemon horde, and I was quite sure that the Daemons summoned copies were doing likewise just in order to sustain their mana fueled projections.

“Gric? Is there such a thing as consumable summoning items?” I asked curiously. I just had a brilliant idea on how we could spread our potential influence beyond this floor of the Labyrinth without directly relying on the human army. If there was one thing that always seemed to be in short supply, it was healers. So far as I knew, the human army hadn’t brought any with them, and unless I missed my guess, it was because no Surgeon would consider the available payment from the army to be worth the risk. But there was no risk for the Daemons. At worst their projections would just disappear...

Gric nodded eagerly, his eyes damn near sparkling, “Yes Lord! Provided suitable materials, both myself and Asra are capable of this!”

“What do you need?” I demanded excitedly.

“Precious little Lord! Just blood, manastones and something to write upon should suffice!” Gric replied with equal enthusiasm.

“Blood?” That gave me pause for a moment.

Gric looked somewhat confused, “There is nothing else suitable to write with,” he explained pragmatically.

“Oh...” For a moment there, I had seriously reconsidered the whole Daemon summoning thing...

“Provided a manastone is sufficiently powerful, it can be used to store a delayed or conditional use of certain Class Abilities,” Gric explained cheerfully, “Writing instructions isn’t strictly necessary, but adds to the aesthetic!”

“Wait...Is that all?” I demanded incredulously.

Gric shrugged, “The manastone provides the raw power, the Class Ability provides the structure. What else would be needed beyond that?” He replied.

“How are they meant to activate it then?” I pressed, clutching at straws, fully aware of my own ignorance.

“Injecting mana is sufficient to trigger the effect,” Gric replied helpfully.

“What about the staff from the dungeon?” I asked, “Why was that so different?”

Gric nodded in acknowledgement and gave Orphiel a sideways glance, “That item was created by the Labyrinth, it was not created the same way, but you could emulate its effects well enough.”

“Wait...” How had I skipped straight to Daemon summoning and ignored one of the most practical uses, “Your saying that Ril could make another Portal staff if she chooses that Class?”

Gric gave me a strange look for a moment and then nodded, “Lord, Ril has already chosen the Nexus Binder Advanced Class. She confirmed her choice shortly after your mandate for self-determination...”

I should have expected that...

Orphiel furrowed his brow but said nothing.

Gric noticed the reaction and chuckled, “Yes! Do you now see the glory of our Lord?” He demanded, “To determine our own abilities with which to better serve his interests! No Archon of the heavenly host, nor Monarch of the great pit would dare entrust such a burden upon their servants! Yet such is the faith our Lord places in us!”

I couldn’t help but cringe at Gric’s misplaced proselytising. Making the Daemons responsible for their own Class selection was to ease my own guilt over otherwise controlling their very lives. It was a small consolation to my conscience, but Orphiel didn’t seem to see it that way.

“I can choose my own Classes?” Orphiel asked in a hushed gasp. He hastily covered his mouth and glanced fearfully around the surrounding darkness.

I nodded, “You can ask Gric or Hana about what Classes we have available and can teach y-”

“I want to be a Bard!” Orphiel blurted out suddenly.

I just started at Orphiel for a moment before fully realising what he had said. “A Bard?” I asked uncertainly, “Like a musician? Sings and plays different instruments?”

Orphiel nodded determinedly.

“Uh...Okay, if we figure out how to unlock that Class, you are free to learn it,” I agreed bemusedly.

Tears welled in Orphiel’s eyes and he fell to his knees, “Thank you, most gracious Lord!”

“You’re welcome,” I replied a little nervously.

“Accept!” Orphiel cried out in what sounded like desperate happiness.

It took me a moment to realise what had happened, but then it suddenly clicked. Orphiel had the Class unlocked already...

[Orphiel - Fallen Angel Novitiate: 3 ] [HP: 20/20] [MP: 1/18 (23) ]

[Tim’s Minion. Minion of Sanctuary.] [Class: Bard 0. +1 Presence, +5 MP] [Exp:0/5000 ]

[Strength: 10 ]

[Agility: 12 ]

[Toughness: 10 ]

[Intelligence: 10 ]

[Willpower: 8 ]

[Presence: 15 (16)]

[(Class Ability: Summon Instrument): Summon a copy of any known {Instrument}. {Summoned Instruments} increases the range and effect of {Bard Class Abilities}.]

[(Class Ability: Scarper 0): Expend MP to intuitively recognise the shortest route out of a dwelling. {Presence} increases the speed of donning and retrieving equipment.]

[(Class Ability: Inspire Allies 0): Expend MP and perform to inspire allies, increasing their damage dealt, reducing damage taken, and negating {Fatigued}. {Presence} increases the range of the effect.]

[(Racial Ability: Fallen Judgement {Rank 2}): {Curse} an enemy with altered memories from their past, forcing them to confront their sins. {Presence} increases the difficulty of overcoming the {Curse} on their own as well as the difficulty in dispelling the {Curse} through alternate means.]

[(Racial Ability: Fallen Grace {Rank 2}): Expend MP to remove damage from a living target, but take a portion of that same damage. {Willpower} decreases the damage taken.]

[(Racial Ability: Fallen Divinity {Rank 0): Increases resistance to spells and replenishes MP when resisting spells. {Willpower} increases the effects.]

[Class Qualifications: Taskmaster, Slaver, Minstrel. ]

Looking over Orphiel’s Status took me at least a few minutes. I just kept being drawn back to the Bard Class Abilities. Inspire Allies seemed pretty self-explanatory and ‘on the level’, but Scarper, and the fact that it had multiple Ranks, beggared belief. Unless I completely missed the mark, Scarper was designed for Bard’s to bolt from someone's bedroom at incredibly short notice. Why the hell did the Labyrinth have a Class Ability like that floating around?!

Leaving Gric and Orphiel behind, I left the prison and went to take a drink from one of the spouts pouring into the fountain.

Just as before, Toofy was still playing on the rim of the fountain, while RIl swam about in the water.

“You know,” I said loudly enough that Ril had no excuse not to hear, “I could probably make a necklace for that jewel so you don’t have to keep it in your hands.” Ril was smart for her age, incredibly smart, but she had the same relative ignorance as the other monsters in that she knew precious little beyond what the Labyrinth had imprinted in her brain. Older monsters of course accrued knowledge just as humans do, but Ril was barely a week old.

Obviously intrigued, Ril swam closer. “Tim can make a necklace like Mama’s?” She asked curiously.

Glancing over at the silver belt buckle tied to a leather strap hanging around Toofy’s neck, I nodded. “I made it,” I explained with a small grin.

“Really?!” Ril closed the distance between us with a powerful kick of her legs and a flick of her finned tail. Somewhat resembling the dorsal finned tail of the Hydra, I was a little surprised I hadn’t noticed it sooner since it was easily equal in length to her height. “Tim will make a necklace for RIl?” She asked excitedly.

“Sure, I just need some materials. I’ll be back in a minute,” I patted Ril’s head and moved off to the storeroom to find some leather or hide cord. Returning to the fountain, I made a small net from the cord and left two long lengths about a foot long each on either side. Somewhat resembling a sling, I offered it to Ril. “You just need to put the jewel in the net then tie the cords together tight so it won’t fall out,” I explained.

Ril had watched me work, so I wasn’t surprised when she eagerly and excitedly placed the jewel in the net, tied it off and then draped the necklace around her neck before tying off the cords behind her neck.

“LORD!” Wraithe, one of the single-horned Daemons rushed into the Grove, her bestial features twisted in an expression of anger, “Sanctuary is under attack!”

Her words caught me off guard, but I had already gotten to my feet and begun to move, “Where?!” I demanded.

“The eastern gate Lord!” Wraithe chittered excitedly and pointed towards Sanctuary’s only gate, “They attacked us with ranged weapons! Four guards were injured but I stitched them right up!” She declared proudly.

“Are the enemies still out there?!” I demanded, letting Wraithe’s class choice fall by the wayside as I tried to focus on what was important.

“Yes Lord! But we prioritised the lives of your minions, as ordered. No one has been allowed to attempt engaging the enemy force!” Wraithe spoke the words with pride and a hint of expectation.

“Good,” I commented, and noted the expression of satisfaction on her face in response. “Where is-”

“What is going on?!” Lash demanded, already fully armoured and rushing towards us.

“Enemies attacked the gate,” I replied dourly, “I was just about to organise a counter-attack. Thoughts?” Lash was bound to have far more tactical insight into this sort of thing, so I wasn’t just going to ignore her out of hand.

“They are skirmishing? Or raiding?” Lash demanded.

I looked pointedly at Wraithe, “You said they were just firing from a distance right?”

Wraithe nodded, “Indeed Lord! The guards called them crossed bows,” she added helpfully.

I couldn’t help but wince a little upon hearing that. Depending on the head used on their ammunition, we could be in for a very rough time.

Lash nodded sombrely, “They do not intend to fight,” she concluded, “Leaving Sanctuary is a mistake. We will chase and they will run. More will attack...”

Not really having any ranged weapons to speak of put us at a huge disadvantage. “What species of monster are they?” I asked hurriedly, realising I probably should have led with that question.

Wraithe’s eyes flickered briefly to Lash before returning to me again, “We believe they are Deep Orcs, Lord.”

Lash’s expression turned bitter, but she said nothing.

We arrived at the gate, and just as I had hoped to find, Hana's Wyrd, the guards and other volunteers had blocked off most of the entrance with hauling sleds turned onto their sides.

“Lord! Your safety!” One of the volunteers hurriedly stripped off his helmet and pressed it into my hands, revealing the face of a grizzled old man.

As much as I wanted to refuse, I knew better. Even if my skin was practically arrow proof, one lucky shot through my eye socket would almost certainly be a death sentence. So I donned the helmet and tied off the leather strap.

“How many?” Lash demanded, effortlessly taking command.

“I count twenty,” One Deep Orc offered.

“Thirty!” added another.

Lash nodded, seemingly taking the contradictory information in stride. After thinking for a moment, she turned her attention to me instead, “I wish to outflank them,” Lash stated bluntly.

“How?” I asked curiously.

“Set the humans on them,” Lash replied matter of factly, “Issue a quest while baiting the traitors!” Far from being conflicted at attacking those who had once been her people, Lash seemed incensed. There was an undeniable logic to her intended plan though, and I couldn’t think of anything better.

Issuing a quest to the humans specifically to repel the invading forces assailing the gate, I then temporarily disabled the garrison quest that had been keeping them holed up for half the day.

Within minutes I could hear a muffled horn call from the south.

Were it not for the fact that the human soldiers had access to competitively ranged weapons to fight the Deep Orcs with, and shields, I would have felt bad for them. But that middling crisis of conscience evaporated as the human soldiers engaged the Deep Orc skirmishers.

The few faces I could make out from the defensive vantage of the gate looked like they had been taken straight off a wartime propaganda poster. Far from being scared, as I had expected them to be, even the rank and file bore grins of eagerness and excitement, like they were off on some grand adventure...

When the Deep Orcs saw the human soldiers headed towards them, they didn’t run as Las had expected they would. Instead, champions broke from their ranks and charged towards the soldiers.

For all their eagerness, the soldiers weren’t stupid. They formed ranks and collectively met the charging Deep Orcs with a densely packed wall of spears and shields.

Seemingly obsessed with making contact with the soldiers, the Deep Orcs threw down their axes and tried scrambling over the improvised wall.

However, the soldiers weren’t going to allow it. Sporadic volleys began peppering the Deep Orc champions from the flanks, the shield wall ensuring that the archers' allies were not caught in the crossfire. The majority of shots ricocheted off the Deep Orcs heavy armour, but every so often, an archer would get lucky and sneak an arrow through the gaps in the iron plates. The footsoldiers weren’t just maintaining the shield wall either. Through active coordination, they slowly drew the champions away from their own fire support and isolated them, allowing the archers to return fire against the would-be skirmishers with impunity, while the spearmen worried the champions down.

Despite their losses, the Deep Orc crossbowmen didn’t flee and kept fighting. Even with just one crossbowman left standing, he or she stood defiantly against the withering hail of arrows, loading and firing their crossbow with dogged determination. Their defiance didn’t last and an arrow caught the Deep Orc in the neck as they prepared to fire their next bolt.

With all enemies disabled, the soldiers swept over the battlefield and finished them off with brutal efficiency, although for some reason, the Deep Orc champions were being given a wide berth. With the quest completed, the soldiers were awarded Exp based upon their contributions to the fight and their immediate area lit up like the sun as most if not all of them levelled up simultaneously.

Not quite sure what I had expected, I was still surprised when the soldiers doused the Deep orc champion bodies with oil and set them on fire.

Wraithe and the other Daemons who had come to reinforce the gate quickly made themselves scarce as The familiar forms of Cpt. Klive, Lt. Felix and his lower-ranked shadows began approaching the gate. Hana had made her way over at this point as well, but shied back into the ranks of the Serpent-Kin volunteers and cowled herself in a drab but sturdy-looking cloak that looked like it was purchased from the incarcerated vendor.

Motioning for the guards to open a space through the gate, I cautiously passed through the gate and waited for the humans to approach.

Unsurprisingly, Lash and four other Deep Orcs I did not recognise followed behind me.

In stark contrast to their lower-ranked officers and soldiers, Cpt. Klive and Lt. Felix looked unstrained by the battle that had taken place twenty or so minutes earlier.

“Chieftain Tim!” Cpt. Klive called out good-naturedly as they closed the remaining distance, “I cannot express how truly grateful I am that you shared such a bounty with me and my men!”

I nodded, unwilling to correct the man when he so willingly left himself in my debt.

“Although, the presence of the Ghouls was a real surprise. I had not read any reports of undead on this floor of the Hurst Labyrinth,” Cpt. Klive ruminated thoughtfully.

“Ghouls?” I asked without meaning to. Hearing the word, images of flesh-eating zombies came to mind but did not seem to fit what I had seen of the battle.

Cpt. Klive nodded, his expression suddenly quite serious, “They are a type of undead monster that spreads through a special Curse. The Curse of the Ghoul is carried in its bite. Anyone bitten by a Ghoul receives the Curse and will slowly transform into a Ghoul over time, or at midnight if they die from other means.” He waved back over to the burning corpses with a dour expression, “Burning the bodies, dispelling the Curse or burying them in consecrated ground are the only known ways to stop those already Cursed from reanimating as Ghouls.”

I didn’t like the sound of that at all. “What about beasts?” I asked warily. I had seen enough zombie movies to not rule out the possibility of a zombified beast hoard.

Lt. Felix politely shook his head, “Thankfully, the Ghoul Curse is limited to humans and..erm..human-like monsters...” He seemed uncomfortable with and unsure of his choice of words.

I simply nodded and returned my attention to Cpt. Klive to better set his mind at ease, “How is the Ghoul curse broken? And how do you create consecrated ground?” I asked pointedly. The last thing I wanted was to put down any one of my citizens unfortunate enough to be ‘infected’ while hunting to provide food for our community.

Cpt. Klive was silent for a moment and seemed to be thinking something over with great intensity. “There are Curse breaking potions and other magical items available in the Hurst marketplace. But they are incredibly expensive and vary wildly in cost depending on the strength of the dispelling effect. I have heard, from reliable sources, mind you, that the Ghoul’s Curse can be broken by ingesting raw garlic and silver, but never seen it done first hand. As for consecrated ground...” he shifted uncomfortably, “Only a grand speaker of the gods has been known to perform such a miracle. Hurst itself has a holy cathedral with sanctified grounds that ward against the undead. Unfortunately, such means are beyond us I am afraid.”

I nodded in understanding and made a mental note to radically increase garlic production. “I want silver as part of your first payment for the foundations of the fortification,” I demanded bluntly.

“I will make sure of it,” Cpt. Klive agreed earnestly, “Ah, on the subject-”

“It will be ready by sundown,” I promised, “Assuming we have the privacy to complete it.”

Cpt. Klive smirked a little and nodded, “Aye, and I will make sure you get it. But there was something else...” He glanced briefly yet pointedly at my hand, “Can I assume you have access to advanced healing of some kind?”

I was heavily inclined to plead ignorance or reference my own healing ability. However, recalling my earlier conversation with Gric, I would be remiss to overlook the opportunity the captain’s request presented. The problem was in telling a convincing enough lie to minimize the risk to Sanctuary. Not for the first time in my life, I briefly regretted not being a proficient liar.

“Perhaps...” I agreed, trying to sound cryptic and mysterious, thankful that at least the helmet hid my face. “A strange wandering merchant visited my Settlement many moons ago, with all manner of exotic items for sale. He would only accept coins for his wares, and we had few enough to spend...”

Cpt. Klive and Lt. Felix nodded appreciatively and the former motioned for me to continue.

“I purchased a small bottle, a potion, the merchant called it. He claimed it would heal any lesser wound, and I suppose it has,” I clenched and unclenched my previously wounded hand. “But I bought something else as well. A summoning scroll. The merchant claimed it could summon a spirit to tend and heal injuries for a certain length of time before it would disappear.”

Now, this had Cpt. Klive’s utmost attention, “This scroll,” he gulped dryly, “Do you still have it?” Even though Cpt. Klive was trying to downplay his interest, I could see the sudden intense desire to possess the fictitious scroll, taking hold in his eyes.

I nodded, “I do,” I lied, wondering how long exactly it would take Gric to manufacture the scroll.

“Name your price!” Cpt. Klive insisted suddenly, “I have a duty to the soldiers under my command! As I am sure you can see, some of them are in pressing need of medical aid!”

He wasn’t lying, some soldiers did look like they were in dire need of medical attention. The soldiers armour had not fared particularly well against the Deep Orcs crossbows at such short range.

“You can have it in exchange for a favor,” I replied. I honestly had no idea how much to ask for. Objectively, the ability to call a surgeon with a Daemons MP was bound to be expensive in and of itself. Add onto that, the fact that anyone in the vicinity would be unlocking the Summoner Class and quite possibly Pact Binder and Warlock as well, and the item was bound to be insanely expensive. With that in mind, I preferred the idea of Cpt. Klive owing me a commensurately sizable favour. While I doubted it would persuade him to commit treason, I hoped it would prove sufficient to warrant special assistance in regards to Sanctuary and other Settlements that might be established down the line.

“Done!” Cpt. Klive agreed. “You are proving a most valuable ally to his majesty, and I will do my utmost to shield your people from...undesirable interests.”

I leaned in closer to Lash, “Could you take two of your men and go to Gric? Tell him I want the scroll that summons the healer.”

Lash nodded her head slightly and motioned to a pair of our accompanying guards, “Follow me,” she commanded and headed back through the gate.

The human officers seemed to collectively breathe a little easier with her absence.

“Sir?” Lt. Felix gave his superior officer a somewhat pleading look.

Cpt Klive coughed lightly and gave Lt. Felix a terse nod, “My junior officer and I were hoping that perhaps you could help explain why the Cursed Orcs were attacking your settlement?” It was a fair enough question, particularly since by all accounts the battle was more dangerous than it had first seemed.

“A civil war, I think. The Deep Orcs of at least one clan had sworn to serve someone known as the ‘Bright Lord’. Or so the refugees have told me,” I explained while trying to keep my own people's involvement ambiguous.

Cpt. Klive did not seem to like the sound of that at all.

“You think this chieftain, or ‘Bright Lord’ is responsible for the attack on the adventurers Guild Foothold?” Lt. Felix whispered a touch louder than he should have.

Cpt. Klive winced a little, glanced at me and nodded somewhat reluctantly.

“I have human friends returning from the human Settlement across the river,” I stated, trying to both set the captain at ease as well as establish the fact that I was expecting the expeditionary group to return within the next few days.

“You have existing dealings with humans?” Cpt. Klive asked curiously.

“I do,” I agreed, “They are friends to my people and they are always welcome in my home.” I hoped the captain would remember that. Firstly, so he would be reminded that there were others who enjoyed my special attention, but also so he knew I would reciprocate a kindness. After all, our alliance would only hold value if we could maintain it long term.

Thinking of the expeditionary group had me worried, all the more so with the Cursed Deep Orcs running around.

“Then we will make sure to treat them in kind,” Cpt. Klive insisted, “I want you to know that we are fully committed to an ongoing and mutually beneficial relationship.”

The less stern of Lt. Felix’s subordinates turned to his companion, “Do you think the adventurers from the Foothold would be with them as well then?” He asked quietly.

The gruff one, made a point of clearing his throat and faintly gesturing in the direction of their superiors with a warning look.

“What about the merchants? What are we supposed to do if they come looking for help?” He asked, apparently still not having taken the hint.

Lt. Felix gave both his men an intense glare that brought the questions to a halt, for a few moments at least.

Cpt. Klive worked his jaw for a few seconds as if chewing a particularly tough strip of leather. “My subordinate has raised an important issue. There is a chance that refugees from my kingdom will be accompanying or following the friends of your people. I have an obligation under oath to the crown to provide shelter and safety for loyal citizens in need during wartime.” The captain's statement left an unspoken question lingering between us.

What did I want him to do if adventurer refugees followed my expedition party?

I scowled a little, as I recalled how coldblooded the Guild manager had been when imprisoning Toofy and renewing my enslavement. As a reactionary and entirely emotionally fuelled decision, I briefly entertained demanding the captain throw the adventurers back out into the swamp.

However, after taking a few moments to calm myself and think it over, I realised that such a vindictive act would not achieve the effects I wanted. In all likelihood, the adventurers would form an unregulated refugee camp in the vicinity of either Sanctuary or the army base. With no one curtailing their behaviour, it wasn’t much of a stretch to think that the adventurers would begin predating on all monsters in the vicinity.

It would only be a matter of time before one of my people was attacked and the captain would be forced to uphold his end of our bargain. Such an early strain on our partnership would have long-lasting consequences too...

“You will take them in,” I muttered irritably, “So long as they abide by our agreement, you can provide them shelter. However, should any of them bring harm to my people-”

“Then I will do as we have agreed!” Cpt. Klive interjected solemnly, “I have recently read reports of your brief stay on the first floor of the Labyrinth, and I just wanted to let you know that I will not abide the kidnapping and enslavement of children, of any species, while I continue to draw breath.”

I couldn’t help but stare at the captain in surprise. How much did he know? Was this his way of calling out my lie regarding the scroll?

“Rescuing your child like that...” Cpt. Klive’s expression shifted to one of immense respect, “Few would endure slavery to save a child. Fewer still would help defend those who stole them in order to press both into service...” The captain winced a little as he spoke the last, but he quickly rallied. “I do have one question, if you will indulge my curiosity?”

I said nothing in reply, but nodded my head slightly as a show of agreement that he could continue.

“Why didn’t you turn on them when you had the chance?” Cpt. Klive asked, a faint incredulity in his tone. “After what they did and the weakened state they were left in...there would have been nothing and no one that could have stopped you. So why did you let them live?”

There were many different answers to that question. I didn’t doubt for a moment that each of the girls would provide a different one as well, if they were ever asked. However, besides my previous avoidance of violence, there was one reason in particular that stood out above the others. “I let them live, so I could live,” I replied gruffly, “If I killed any of them for what they did, I would have to kill all of them. And if I did that, I would need to keep on killing for the rest of my life as those seeking vengeance of their own or, on behalf of others, would track me down and force my hand into conflict.”

Cpt. Klive looked surprised for a moment, then slowly nodded in understanding. “With the unpleasantness of earlier...I will admit that I had a hard time reconciling your behaviour. But I think I understand now, thank you.”

I shrugged noncommittally. I sincerely doubted he understood much of anything really. If anything, the captain had probably come to some rather poor assumptions. A lot had changed since my original enslavement. Not least of which was my stance on violence...

We stood in silence for a short while until Lash returned with the scroll in hand.

The scroll looked far better than I had honestly expected it would. Near as I could tell, Gric had apparently bought some leather garment, perhaps a pair of leather pants, and removed one pant leg to use as the writing surface. Having cut away the stitches, the frayed and marked edges actually gave it a sort of aged look that seemed appropriate. A short tongue of leather had been stitched to the bottom and served as both an improvised binding to keep the scroll sealed, but also held the manastone in a sealed pocket. Even though I could not see the writing inside, some of the angular sigils of the Daemon language were written on the leather strap binding the scroll. In spite of telling me he would use blood, It looked like Gric had burned the letters into the leather.

Lash handed me the scroll and then I handled it off to the captain who nearly tripped over himself in his haste to accept it.

“I will not forget this kindness, “ Cpt. Klive insisted, his attention nearly entirely focused upon the scroll now in his hands.

For a moment, I felt like I had a greater appreciation for natives making peaceful contact with colonial powers, and I didn’t like it. It was an uncomfortably poignant analogy for the events that had just transpired. Even though the captain had yet to give me a reason to doubt him, I was far too aware of Earth’s own history to naively believe that our relationship would remain in my favour without taking precautions to keep it that way. On the upside, I now felt markedly less guilty about releasing Daemon spies into their midst.

Now that they had the scroll, Cpt. Klive, Lt. Felix and the two lower-ranked officers begged their leave under the pretence of seeing to their wounded.

More than happy to see them gone, I let them go without complaint.

Retreating back through Sanctuary’s gate, I motioned for Hana to come out from hiding.

“Why are they setting fires?” Hana called out irritably, a hint of anger in her voice.

“The soldiers seemed convinced that some of the Deep Orcs that attacked the gate were some form of undead,” I explained, unable to keep a hint of scepticism from my tone, Hana seemed unconvinced.

“Undead? Hrmph! I will handle this!” Hana hissed angrily and cloaked herself in emerald mana.

Looking through the gate, I watched roots emerge from the ground beside and beneath the burning corpses. After waving back and forth for a moment, the roots suddenly angled their ends towards the corpses and viciously speared them straight through. Far from finished, the roots dug through the bodies like giant worms, ripping and tearing them apart. With the Deep Orcs bodies now thoroughly destroyed, smaller roots enveloped the remaining pieces and dragged them down into the ground.

“There!” Hana growled, “No need for...” She seemed at a loss for words, “That!”

“Hana...” I opened my arms wide and awkwardly offered her a hug. Much to my surprise, she accepted.

Hana leaned into me and seemed content to just have me hold her for a while. She didn’t cry or whimper, she hardly even made a sound. Glancing at Lash, I half expected her to be angry or annoyed.

On the contrary, judging by her relaxed posture and the deliberate distance she was giving me and Hana, Lash didn’t seem to mind at all.

I guess I had just been an idiot to assume she would behave like a jealous teenager on some daytime soap opera. I made a mental note to try and think of something to make it up to Lash later.

A short while later, Hana began to pull away and I let her go. “Thanks Tim,” she gave me a small yet tired smile, “I...I didn’t expect it to affect me like that...”

I nodded in understanding, “It’s alright. You should take a rest, let Qreet and the other Daemons handle the rest of the work for today,” I insisted.

Hana looked like she was going to argue, but then she deflated a little and nodded, suddenly seeming quite tired, “Alright, thanks again Tim,” Hana gave me a half-wave as she left towards the Grove.

I waved awkwardly back, but she had already turned around and wouldn’t have seen it.

“Should I call for the Daemons and organise guards for them?” Lash asked diligently.

I shook my head, “No need to risk it. Better to just have Asra summon copies of them instead.”

“Alright,” Lash agreed and walked over to one of the nearby guards to pass along the command and find Asra.

“Lord!” Wraithe came loping over from her hiding place behind one of the barrow mounds, “It is happening! The humans just finalised the summons!”

Surprised Wraithe was in the loop on Gric’s scheme, it took me a moment to realise that she actually wasn’t. Gric had simply chosen Wraithe as the Daemon that would be summoned by the scroll since she possessed the healing class abilities they wanted, and as the summoned creature in question, Wraithe apparently knew who was doing the summoning.

“That’s good,” I congratulated her, “Just make sure to speak with Gric sometime soon alright? In fact, make sure all the other Daemons do too.”

Wraithe grinned and bowed energetically, “Of course Lord!” She happily reached towards the closest Daemons to spread the word, which unfortunately was Qreet and the other Druids. Thankfully, the four of them looked to me for confirmation before heading over to the Grove, so I was able to intercept them and explain the situation with Hana first.

Only too eager to have more work to do, the four Daemons began avidly discussing the best distribution of labour in order to get the grounds ready for occupation by the army.

With Hana’s Wood Wyrd and the Deep Orc guards keeping a careful watch on the gate, I wasn’t nearly as worried as I had been earlier upon learning of the attack. However, something would have to be done about the mine shaft and tunnels below.

Taking note of the gold-coloured Status Alerts signifying Exp from healing related sources, I motioned for Lash to follow me and headed off towards the mineshaft. We descended down the mineshaft together along with five of the other Deep Orcs.

If the enemy clan of Deep Orcs were going to continue being a problem, then we would need some way of differentiating our forces. I was about to ask Lash what sort of accessory would be best when my attention suddenly shifted as I felt a disturbance in Sanctuary’s barrier.

“Trespassers!” Lash growled angrily, her head swivelling to face the north.

There was another disturbance, and then another.

“HAVE ASRA SUMMON THE DAEMONS AND FORTIFY THE ENTRANCE!” I commanded while seizing the axe from one of our entourage and then continued down the mineshaft. If I had learned anything from fending off the waves of enemies in the cavern with the dungeon, hemming in the enemy was a significant advantage and had to be ensured early.

Entering the cavern below, I rushed towards the northern tunnel. Hearing Lash was right behind me, I was tempted to order her to retreat, but I quickly thought better of it. Of the two of us, Lash was far better at establishing and holding a defensive position.

By the time we reached the tunnel at the northern end of the cavern, there were already sounds of the invaders fast approaching.

Making a mental note to have the Deep Orcs make me a more durable shield of iron or perhaps steel, I gave my borrowed axe a few practice swings. More like a long-handled hatchet or a fire axe, the Deep Orcs used their axes almost exclusively one-handed while shoving or maneuvering their opponents with their free hand.

Even though the weapon was heavily weighted down the far end, it was completely different to what I was used to. I tried copying some basic chopping motions I had seen Lash and the others use during training, but I met with minimal success. It left me with little confidence in using the weapon, and I seriously considered just handing it off to Lash.

However, I didn’t have much time to come to a decision, the invaders were not far now and were closing fast. But something felt off...The invaders were far quieter than I had expected them to be. Deep Orc armour was not stealthy. Even at rest, Lash’s armour was scraping and rattling with every minor movement she made.

As the first invader came into view, it quickly made sense. The invaders weren’t Deep Orcs, they were Serpent-Kin.

*Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip”

I held up my left arm to shield the gap in my helmet and saw Lash move to do the same. The volley of arrows shattered against her breastplate and my chest.

Glancing down at the fallen arrows, I was surprised to find they had worked stone arrowheads, not iron or even a softer and more common metal like copper.

“WHO ARE YOU?!” I roared in challenge, “DECLARE YOURSELVES AND WHO YOU SERVE!” I hoped that this was all a big misunderstanding, and that the attacking Serpent-Kin were just another group of panicked refugees.

“WE SSERVE THE BRIGHT LORD!” A commanding voice called back from down the tunnel, “AND HE WILL PERMIT NO RIVALSS! KILL THEM!!”

Another volley of arrows flew down the tunnel to as little effect as the first, only now there was the sound of stampeding footsteps behind them.

Lowering my arm, I could see a press of gaunt men and women rushing towards us, primitive stone weapons clutched tight at their sides.

“Hearthguard!” Lash growled and a faint amethyst light shimmered across my body and weapon.

With so many of their allies in the way, the archers no longer had a clear line of fire and were forced to wait for an opportunity to present itself. Even though the arrows have proven ineffective thus far, I was still glad for establishing this chokepoint early. But with just the two of us, it wouldn’t take long for the invaders to begin slipping past.

Just as the first wave of invaders were about to come within reach, Lash leapt forward defiantly, “BASTION!” An ephemeral globe of amethyst mana pulsed outwards from her body smashed the invaders backwards like a tidal wave, grinding those caught between it and the stone walls or floor into a grisly mangled paste of bloody flesh and splintered bones.

Those not killed by the attack had been driven back into the next wave of their allies, and Lash set into them like a true demon, her axe keening through the air before cleaving through the invaders' exposed bodies. “BASTION!” Lash roared again, sending a second pulse of amethyst crashing through the invaders ranks in the wake of the first.

“YES! FORWARD!” I cried, gladly expending the MP to activate Warcry and join the battle alongside Lash. Though nowhere near as skilled with the axe as she was, it hardly mattered. A glancing blow sheared through a Serpent-Kin’s weapon and chest, cleaving through flesh and bone like they were nothing but sodden tissue paper. We were butchers and the invaders were but lambs fit only to be slaughtered.

“BASTION!” A third pulse of amethyst light ground another wave of invaders to paste as we pressed forward towards their leader.

In spite of our overwhelming advantage, the Serpent-Kin invaders had made no signs of intending to retreat. Something wasn’t right, I could feel it. We were falling into a trap of some kind.

“Lash! Pull back!” I ordered, grabbing her arm and bodily dragging her back a ways down the tunnel.

“AHAHAHA! TOO LATE!” The same voice from earlier cackled triumphantly, “CORPSSE EXPLOSSION!!!”

*BANG*

We were sent crashing down the tunnel as if fired from a rifle, scraping and bumping along the walls before flying clear and into the larger cavern.

Deafened and barely conscious, I somehow managed to stagger to my feet in spite of the pain radiating from every nerve in my body. Heavily concussed, I was vaguely aware of blood running from my nose, ears and eyes. The wet blood on my burning skin felt like a healing balm compared to the heat radiating from my battered body.

“Lash...” I gasped and searched for her while the cavern spun around me. “Lash!” I repeated, dribbling blood and spittle down my front as I searched for her amidst the clouds of smoke and debris. The dizzying effects of my concussion made it impossible to read my group status, but I took what comfort I could in the knowledge that I had seen no signs of a black Status Alert.

Knowing enemies could be upon us at any moment, I resorted to fumbling about on hands and knees to find Lash. By some miracle, my all but nerve deadened hands found the dented ridge of what I assumed was her breastplate. Wrapping my arm around her chest, I awkwardly tried to rise to my feet. “Lash!” I repeated desperately, unsure if she could even hear me but driven to make the effort all the same, “We...need...to...leave!” I gasped, struggling to breathe as fluid began pooling in my right lung.

Hearing no reply, I staggered towards the mineshaft, relying on my intuitive and absolute sense of direction to guide my steps as I dazedly formed the structure of the quest in my mind.

Something struck the back of my left shoulder, but I ignored it and doggedly continued forward. Something else struck the small of my back a few moments later, and then came another and another.

Already fatigued beyond reason, I spared no attention to anything besides the sensation of Lash in my arms and the increased difficulty of drawing each new breath that came after the next.

“Done...” I gasped breathlessly and issued the quest.

I could vaguely feel movement nearby, the muted cries of unrecognisable voices... But above all else, I felt the thundering of my blood crashing through my veins as my body dumped as much adrenaline as it could into my bloodstream in a vain attempt at staving off my inevitable asphyxiation.

One more second...Ten? What difference would it make? It didn’t seem to matter, my body refused to die, fighting for every second it could get.

A familiar and pervading chill began to spread from the depths of my stomach, a dark and desperate need.

“No...” I let Lash go and unsteadily tried to stagger back the way I had come. I had to get away...I had to get as far away from Lash as possible before...before...be...fore...

A sudden pain erupted in my chest and I hacked up bloody gobs into my badly battered helmet. Unable to think clearly, I hooked my fingers into the visor slit at either side and tore the helmet apart like wet newspaper. Finally free to breathe, I desperately gulped down fresh air, the accompanying pain a feeling of such sweet agony.

Something struck me in the stomach, accomplishing nothing more than reminding me of my hunger.

“Feed...” I grasped blindly into the darkness and by pure chance managed to take hold of something warm and firm. Tightening my grip, I felt something give way and dragged the contents of my hand towards my mouth, “FEED!” I repeated, my teeth biting down hard and shearing through flesh and bone. Blood splashed freely against my face and I revelled in it, gulping down my prize with relish. “FEED ME!” I roared and leaned in for another bite.

*****

Ril had received the emergency quest, just as everyone else had. However, unlike most, she was aware of the true danger that now lay beneath their feet.

Following along behind Mama, Ril found Tim’s minions milling about the entrance to the underground tunnels. It took her only a moment to realise that either they or the cavern below must have suffered a collapse. To their credit, the minions had adapted and were preparing to rappel down the vertical shaft instead. However, Ril could not allow it.

“STOP!” Like a knife cutting through tender meat, Ril’s commanding tone brought a near-immediate halt to all activity. Climbing up to stand atop the shoulder of a nearby Daemon, Ril scanned the crowd and found who she was looking for. “DAR, COME HERE!” Ril demanded, her tone making it clear she would brook no argument.

To his credit, although incredibly dim by the standards of his hatchmates, Dar knew the hierarchy and obeyed without question, quickly moving through the crowd and presenting himself to Ril and awaiting orders.

“ASRA! COME HERE!” Ril demanded again, searching for signs of Mama’s friend.

A few precious moments passed by before Asra was found and delivered to her as requested.

“Copy all Daemons, but not Dar,” Ril commanded decisively, “Send them into the hole.”

Asra gulped hard and nodded. He promptly began scattering manastones onto the ground and calling the true names of every Daemon except for herself and Dar. The Daemons in turn began their descent down into the cavern below, all except Gric.

“I will retrieve the Mistress,” Gric’s copy quickly explained before leaping down into the hole.

Ril nodded to herself and migrated over to Dar’s impressive shoulders to take the next step of her plan. As she expected, Mama tagged along as well, as much out of protective instinct as her knack for finding trouble.

Ril ignored the slew of death notifications as Daemon’s copies were promptly executed. Less than a quarter of the strength of the originals, it was to be expected. After all, Tim was incredibly powerful and Gric was almost certainly using the others as expendable meatshields while trying to find and retrieve Tim’s Bonded Mate Lash.

This was why Ril needed Dar intact and his essence undiluted. Should Tim begin trying to climb out of the cavern before regaining his senses, Dar was the closest contender, pound for pound, to go toe to toe with Tim and buy enough time for Ril’s plan to succeed without resorting to otherwise avoidable sacrifices.

Gric, the original, arrived on the scene, “I have found the Mistress, Asra, another wave! I will need assistance! I am afraid the Lord has seen her too!”

Asra summoned a fresh wave of Daemons, including Gric, only this time the twins descended into the pit together.

Ril nodded in understanding. Things were likely far worse than she had originally anticipated. The near-immediate barrage of status alerts confirmed Ril’s fears and she motioned Dar into action, “Into the pit!” She commanded, “Then carry us along the ceiling!”

Dar eagerly obeyed, bounding forward and freefalling down the pit. At the last possible moment, he anchored his mighty hooked talons into the wall of the pit and swung himself toward the cavern ceiling.

Using her own hooked claws to hold herself secure on Dar’s back, Ril used her tail to hold onto Mama, who lacked the deadly claws necessary to hold on by herself.

The cavern was in chaos. Large chunks of the ceiling had collapsed and blocked the other passage up to the surface. A vicious melee was taking place near the blocked passage and Tim was at its centre. Daemon or Serpent-Kin, friend or foe, it didn’t matter, he was beyond such things, fully succumbed to both his mana addiction and hunger.

With such raw strength and durability, none of the combatants had any real chance of doing lasting damage. This was good, since Ril planned on retrieving Tim intact.

Noticing the pair of Grics scaling the ceiling ahead of them, Ril pointed them out and motioned for Dar to follow. Should Gric need it, they would move in to help. Even though Gric was indeed powerful, his Strength was not nearly up to the level required to fight Tim head-on.

Close to the blockage, the pair of Grics dropped from the ceiling, the first immediately scrambling to retrieve what had to be Lash from beneath a pile of loose rubble, while the second skittishly circled their perimeter. It was a good thing too, because Tim had just finished gorging on his latest opponent and caught sight of the Gric’s.

“FEED ME!” Tim roared and charged the second Gric with blood matted hands hungrily reaching towards him.

To his credit, Gric did his duty and didn’t hesitate in rushing to engage. Nimbly ducking past Tim just slow enough to keep his Lord’s attention, Gric’s copy began a desperate game of cat and mouse, slowly but surely luring Tim away while the original worked at freeing Lash.

“Take us there!” Ril demanded, pointing to the original Gric.

Dar grunted in acknowledgment and began weaving his way across the ceiling with deceptive nimbleness before dropping to the ground.

“Free her!” Ril pointed to Lash and began gathering her mana. She had been practising for a good portion of the day already, but her plan was still incredibly risky.

“Over here!” Qreet’s copy shouted from somewhere out of sight, “Over h-”

*Crunch*

Ril ignored the death notification and maintained her concentration.

“The mistress is free!” Gric hissed quietly and heaved her over one shoulder.

Focusing on the empty ground in front of her, Ril forced her mana to shape and for the portal already envisioned in her mind. Slowly at first, but faster as Ril willed more mana towards it, a reflection of the Grove came steadily into focus.

“Go,” Ril insisted and motioned for Gric to leave.

Obedient to a fault, Gric immediately sprang through the portal.

With immense satisfaction, Ril watched as the pair of them reappeared a few feet from the portal.

“Fee-” the sudden cry came from just beside them but was cut off and Dar lurched and instinctively slammed one of his heavily overdeveloped arms towards the noise without stopping to think of the consequences, and very likely saving their lives in the process.

Sent reeling by Dar’s blow, Ril had already collapsed the portal and begun working on another.

Relying entirely on Mama and Dar for her protection, Ril devoted her entire being to focusing on the exact location of her next portal.

“Protect Baby!” Toofy shrieked and threw a rock as she dragged Ril back and away from the melee, “Keep Tim away!”

Dar grunted and roared in affirmation, pounding his chest and squaring up against his Lord.

Tim wasted no time on ceremony, launching himself towards Dar with such reckless abandon only the insane or truly immortal were capable of.

Dar lashed out just as he had done before, only to be surprised as Tim deliberately caught the blow on his chest and pinned Dar’s arm long enough to bite a chunk out of it.

Bellowing in pain and fury, Dar backhanded Tim with his spiked knuckles, raking four vicious cuts across Tim’s throat.

Bleeding for only a moment, the cuts quickly healed and left behind pale scars in their wake.

“MORE!” Tim roared and charged again.

Dar was healing quickly too, a minor but essential trait all the Daemons had harvested from the Hydra. But it wasn’t quick enough. Otherwise forced onto the defensive while the large bite-sized chunk of muscle was regrown in his right arm, Dar raked his talons at Tim’s thighs and knees, hoping to slow or immobilize him.

Tim took a brutal strike to the right knee and Dar tore off his kneecap and severed the connecting tendons. Unfortunately, Tim continued lurching forward and managed to grab hold of Dar’s shoulders. He then dragged the both of them together and bit deep into Dar’s already injured arm as he desperately moved to protect his jugular and neck.

More or less now holding Tim at bay exactly as Ril wanted, Dar dutifully maintained the grapple without complaint.

With the portal finally ready, Ril focused on the ground behind Dar and focused intensely upon bringing it into being. With her entire focus otherwise devoted to the task at hand, Ril willed a short burst of primitive Daemonic telepathy towards Dar.

A similar burst of telepathy returned from Dar almost immediately, the message saturated with pain and the unique sensation of his arm being chewed upon as he was eaten alive.

This was why Dar was Ril’s favourite Daemon. With none of Gric’s guile, or Qreet’s pride, Dar was content to obey and await new orders, his singular ambition to grow stronger only so he could better serve. Tim would reward Dar for this, Ril would make sure of it, even if she had to convince Mama to help too.

Depleting her available mana nearly by half, Ril willed her second portal into being. Almost immediately, water began gushing out the portal. Hardly surprising given the destination, Ril honed her concentration to a razor's edge.

Dar threw himself backwards into the portal without a second thought, his right arm both guarding his neck and lodged in Tim’s gnashing maw, while his left arm anchored around Tim’s back. The both of them fell into the water just below the foot of the portal, but Dar didn’t let go and they both began to sink.

Dispelling the portal, Ril hoped Hana and the Druids would be up to the task of restraining Tim if Dar passed out from blood loss before Tim succumbed to asphyxiation.

Requiring far less detail for her next portal, Ril was still somewhat worried by the appearance of the approaching Serpent-Kin. Climbing up higher on the collapsed rocks, Ril was even more worried by the lack of fresh reinforcements. Assuming Asra had succumbed to mana exhaustion, Ril decided that her plan was still reasonably viable.

Concentrating only the minimum amount necessary to picture the location in her mind, Ril scanned the gathering crowd of invaders for their leader. Spotting an individual with exaggerated serpentine features, she knew that she had found her target. “Him,” Ril nodded her head towards the leader.

Mama nodded, a special spiked rock made from clay and bones materialising in one hand and her sling in the other. “Toofy kill for hurting Tim!” Mama snarled viciously and loaded the spiked ball into the sling.

“Pathetic!” The invaders leader hissed mockingly, “You are only delaying the inevitable you know? Why not abandon thosse weaklingss and sserve a power worthy of the title?!”

Ril sneered contemptuously at the evolved Serpent-Kin in disgust, “I see nothing worthy in you or your master!” She spat.

The evolved Serpent-Kin leader hissed angrily and began gathering mana for a spell.

“Now Mama!” Ril cried and formed a particularly large portal, easily three times the size of the others, slightly lower on the collapsed rocks.

*Whap*

The spiked ball caught the leader in the face, not only breaking his concentration, but causing no small amount of pain as he foolishly tore the barbed bones of the ball from his cheek.

“YOU WILL PAY FOR THISS! YOU WILL-” The leader suddenly stopped and staggered backwards in surprise as hundreds of gallons of water began blasting out of the portal and flooding the floor. Before he could react, the irate form of a Swamp Lurker came crashing out of the portal and barreled into a trio of his minions that had been valiantly trying to resist the unrelenting torrents of water.

Content that the invaders would be otherwise dealt with, Ril guided Mama higher up the obstruction and continued feeding mana towards the portal. The cavern was large, but despite having at least two major tunnels capable of otherwise funnelling the water away, the centre of the cavern formed a natural basin that would continue to allow the water level to rise at least another five or so feet before flooding into the tunnels. Meanwhile, the portal would keep drawing both water and aquatic monsters to flood the depths.

If the invaders were smart, they would flee now, before the basin filled enough to support the ravenous fish. Then again, if they were smart, they wouldn’t have started this conflict in the first place.

Ril grinned and watched as Mama began picking off the invaders closest to the edge of the basin. Shielded as they were by the expanse of the portal, there was very little their enemies could do to assail Ril’s impromptu fortress. Even if they charged up here to attack her directly, it wasn’t as if Ril was without means of defending herself.

As chaos began taking hold below, Ril eagerly watched the water level rising and smiled. The wild monsters wouldn’t be the only ones allowed to have some fun!