“Hey! Kid, do something. Use the mana, and show me you’re conscious. Hey man, he ain’t awake. Your sensors are broken, how much do I have to do to get you to get me working sensors?” a voice says while walking away.

Akiel, slowly making sense of his situation, starts to absorb the ambient mana as the voice instructed. At first, he feels nothing. There was no mana in the surroundings, saying it was devoid of mana would have been correct. Thinking back to right before he was chased, he remembered seeing a dense concentration of mana. Without mana, he couldn’t look at his surroundings to confirm why he isn’t able to sense anything.

Concentrating again, he tries to pull mana from his surroundings into himself. “Hey, last chance. The dungeon is picking up your tries to take in the ambient mana so I’ll tell you right now. You can’t take it in. Mana in its pure state requires certain materials and formations to trap. To use it, think about doing what you want with it and it should comply.” the voice says while getting closer.

Focusing on the voice’s instructions, he tries to draw mana closer to his physical form. Not trying to draw it in, he instead wills it to congregate around him. Feeling small fluctuations of energy on his surface, he uses remodel and makes a small version of himself. Standing a centimeter high, Akiel looks around.

Scooping him up, another construct brings him to its eye level, “That's a nifty trick you got there. Too bad it’s of no use to me or the dungeon. Just asking but are you from another world or are you a free construct from this one?” Using the lift, Akiel takes a look around while squeaking, “I’m a free construct, my dungeon no longer needed me so I left. I walked away and it didn’t do anything to stop me.”

Chuckling, the construct says, “No dungeon construct can walk away from its mana source while it exists. Just seeing how you couldn’t use pure mana proves that you either were made in a hurry right before the dungeon was destroyed or you are not a dungeon construct.”

Looking back at the construct, Akiel notices the masculine form. Still watching him, he arrives in another room. “Because of your little digging project, we collapsed the topmost rooms but we can always create more. Anyways, my dungeon has already seen your information so the question was just a test. One that you failed terribly. Not that he blames you, just won’t trust you now. That’s all.”

Sitting down in his palm, he asks the construct, “Can I get some stone? Actually, can I get any type of material? I’d like to fix my body.”

Derisively snorting, the construct replies, “Yeah. Sure, lie to me and then ask for a favor. That’ll work! Talk to the dungeon, I’ve got other things to do.” Not interested in the least, he tosses him into another room and leaves.

Landing harshly on the uneven floor, Akiel gets up and looks around. Surprisingly, an intangible figure was levitating in the middle of the room, seeming to be meditating with his legs folded. The room itself was bare, only having the door he was thrown in from and a door behind the figure.

Making his way towards the figure he examines the figure with his mana sight. The ambient mana was completely grey and filled almost every direction in his vision. The only color is around the levitating figure. The colorful mana flowed from the figure to a certain point through the left wall.

Suddenly a voice starts talking in his head, “What your seeing is the change from pure mana to that of mana with a purpose. Heat, light, force and many other types of commands given to pure mana give it purpose. That's when it turns colorful in your vision.”

Craning his neck to look at the figure, Akiel finds it looking at him in amusement. “Sir Executioner, you have no need to worry. I am not in any list of yours and therefore am not an enemy. I’ve been through countless purges, have watched countless restarts. As long as I don’t leave any record of my knowledge and occasionally help the champion of destruction, I can get myself on the shortlist of survival.”

Slightly startled that the figure seemed to know everything about him, Akiel notes to himself that dungeons are more of a danger than humans.

As if easing Akiel’s tension, the dungeon continues his monologue, “Not all dungeons can tell, but the older and more powerful will be able to ascertain your information through certain skills. One being appraise. On the other hand, finding you is not possible for most. I myself had help.”

The left wall falls away to reveal a long corridor. Just as Akiel wonders what the purpose of the corridor is, a woman walks past it. Moments later, she runs back and looks down into the room. With a sigh, she makes her way into the room. The moment she enters, she flashes forward a meter and embeds the figure into the opposite wall. “How hard is it to teleport into the room? Huh? Not only does your blasted domain not allow teleportation, but it also has wards against almost every type of location detection magic.” she screams in frustration as her chest heaves in exertion.

Extracting itself out of the wall, the figure walks towards the woman. Noticing it walking on air, Akiel suddenly remembers his guidebook where he had written his notes on mana repulsion. Accepting the loss, he focuses on the figure's feet. To his surprise, there is no repulsion. Not only is repulsion not being used, but the figure was also not using any thrusting force between his feet and the floor. Instead, mana had been constructed as anchors relative to him. He seemed to be able to fortify his position relative to space and not matter.

“Miss Archmage, you know very well why I have a restriction on every magic except that which deals with fortification. I’m almost a god and every other god has to interfere with my ascent. Anyway, this is the one you wanted to see.” It says pointing to me.

Trying to look his best, Akiel puffs his abdomen out and stand taller. Looking at him, the archmages face distorts, “By the Blue Bane, he’s useless. What am I supposed to teach this half-pint to make him useful! Taggen, what do you want me to do with it? At best, we can make it carry a bomb and blow himself up at a random bakery. It won't be able to hurt a single guard like this!”

Making calming gestures, Taggen explains, “He is a construct, he can grow bigger with materials and mana. All I need from you is to give him the book I told you to bring. From what the previous champions said, imagination is the greatest tool of those who come from another world. Give him the tools and he’ll be able to at least distract your king's dog right?”

Quietly mumbling, the woman finally calms down and hands the figure a book, “Nothing more than that. You know how hard it is to control threats. The less they know, The easier it will be.” Turning around, she leaves through the passageway.

Turning to me, Taggen sighs and says, “No offense, but your race has been experimented on and there has been no specimen that can retain more information than a monkey. Either way, she wants you to create a disturbance so she can take the throne. You probably need to destroy the kingdom. If I had half a brain, and I do, this is the best time to make a move. Destroy the kingdom while she fights for the throne. As an archmage, she should be one of your top priorities to kill.”

Looking at the book the archmage gave him, Taggen flips through it. “This is what I want to give you, the tools to make machines, contraptions, and formations of destruction and death,” he comments.

Reaching out, Akiel tries to gesture for the dungeon to give it to him only see the book move further away. “Not yet, nothing is free. I also have needs, as a dungeon that does not spawn monsters, record information and allow outsiders in to explore, I need to get my energy from other sources. Basically, I’ll give you the material to rebuild your body and this book in exchange for a list of objects. It’s like a shopping list, you swear an oath to me on your soul and I give you the tools to get the items.”

Slowly nodding, Akiel agrees with the proposition. After a bit of squeaking and gesticulating, both Akiel and the dungeon settle on a contract. Akiel must bring all the required items in the state written on a paper to be handed over. The dungeon, Taggen must give him the book as well as the resources to rebuild his body. If Akiel fails to bring the material in three years or dies trying, his soul will be stripped of its consciousness and will belong to the dungeon.

With an ominous ring of light enveloping both him and the dungeon, the oath was made and the strings of fate were tied.

“Well, here's the book, some stone, and some information. The information will tell you how to get the items I need and where they can be found. Good luck and goodbye. I’ll be here, in the same place. Only come back when you have the full list.” the dungeon dictates before snapping and leaving Akiel in a forest.

After a cursory look at his surroundings, Akiel sighs, “Well, at least I’m safe for now.” Making his way over to the mound of stone he sits on top while concentrating his mana. Using most of his mana he has, he uses remodel to triple his size. Opening his eyes moans in frustration, “Great, all my mana for another two centimeters. It’s going to take most of the day just to get to a respectable size.” Closing his eyes he busies himself.

***

‘Your majesty, the trainee guards have returned. They’ve come with the corpse of the construct and are parading it up to the castle” an elderly Chamberlain reports. “Welcome them in, they can do anything they want until they enter the castle. The moment they do, shut them up. I haven’t the time to deal with their trivial achievements.” waving the chamberlain away, the king continues to work. Flipping through a few pages, he continues to compare them. A few minutes later, the elderly chamberlain knocks on the door, “It’s me, your majesty, I have brought the trainee guards.”

Rubbing his forehead, the king stands up and walks around his desk, carrying his chair. Setting it down in front of his desk, he sits down and sighs. “Let them enter, bring the proof as well as their families,” he announces after a bit of deliberation.

From a side door, several guards escort families into the room while the Chamberlain opens the main entrance. “Hey, that's my family. That's my family. we killed it, let them go!” the first trainee starts an uproar followed by his comrades. The royal guards escorting the families swiftly disarm and subdue the trainees. Clearing his throat, the king gestures to the guards.“I don’t think you lot understand. In front of me, there will be no questions, there will be no loud noises, and there will be no disobedience. Pull him out, pull the one who started the yelling and his family.”

Like an efficient machine, the guards immediately dragged a man to the king's feet and brought his family to stand behind him.

“Listen up, you can be my first example. My guards will kill their own families if I tell them to. Can you? Kill your wife then your son and then your daughter. On the other hand, if your family kills you, they live. Of course, you die in that case but I’ll spare them. Give him a brick and his wife a dagger. If she doesn’t want her kids to die, she should be able to deal with him. My citizens will not be weak.”

Two guards step forward, one giving the wife a dagger while the other giving the husband an uneven brick. Trembling the husband pushes on the steps to get up. Holding the brick, he makes his way to his wife. Shaking his head and scrunching his face to stop tears from flowing out, he looks at his wife in her eyes. Letting out a low whine, he drops the brick, breaking down in tears. “I can’t. I can’t, I love her. She’s a part of me.” he mutters. The wife likewise drops her weapon and hugs her husband, “It’s okay, we can live and die as a family.”

Ignoring the couple, the king smiles while looking behind them. With a surprised grunt, the trainee looks down. Shocked at what he sees he looks back at his wife, only to see her in confusion. His son had stabbed him. “Papa, I love you, but I refuse to die for you. I refuse to let Emy die because of your selfishness. Couldn’t you just kill yourself? Emy needs mother so I need her alive, but you… You have served your purpose.”

Stabbing his father once again, the boy looks at the king and bows, “Your Highness, I would like to be a citizen. I want to live. I would like to ask for mercy, for my mother and sister. I swear I will be strong enough to represent three of your citizens. So please. Please, your majesty. Let them go.”

Grinning, the king gets up. Strolling up to the boy, he puts his hand on his head. “I can definitely do that, you did comply with my orders and I’m a man of my word. There’s just one problem.” the king whispers. Stretching his arm out, he catches an incoming brick. Crushing it beside the boys head, both he and the boy look at the recently crowned widow.

She was restrained and surrounded by grinning guards. “The only problem was that you wouldn’t be able to go home. If you wanted to be able to be my guard, you are required to leave your family. But that shouldn’t be an issue now. Tell me, my boy, what is it that you want to be?” the king asks.

Looking hurt, the boy tears his gaze away from his mother. Glancing at his sister, he sees her glaring at him with teary eyes. Clenching his teeth he looks away. Deciding that it’s better for him and them, he resolves himself. “I want… I wish to be your guard. I want to be your personal guard.”

“Good! Great! Now here is someone with ambition. Join your future comrades, I still have a few matters to deal with.” the king chortles.

The sound of the main doors closing rings out as the Chamberlain, who had unknowingly disappeared, reappeared with a construct remains. “My liege, there’s no core. There’s also no semblance of any leftover mana connections.” the elderly chamberlain announces. The king froze. Still smiling, he turns to the trainees on the ground. Stone-faced, the trainee's struggle against those holding them down. The king's eyes bulge making his smile seem malicious. “I was going to play some games, but I’m no longer in the mood. Use them to feed the new arrivals, I'd prefer to serve them well-done but it's fine.”

The boy struggles to keep up with his peers. Grabbing a man by his legs, he helps drag him away. Stopping in front of a wide stairwell, half of the guards go down first. The rest of the guards kick the trainees down. Looking closer, the steps were less broad and deeper than normal. A guard bends down and whispers to the boy, “Normally, this is part of the training. Going up these steps in full armor is terrible at first but on the other hand, It makes transporting bodies much easier.” Following the last guards down, the boy struggles to keep up as he lowers himself onto each step. Once at the bottom, he trails after his peers. The trainees, already being dragged by the first half of the guard contingent.

Moving deeper into the royal dungeons, the arrive at a vast pit. Countless sounds from the growling of beasts to the screaming of people sound out. “This is the pit where we keep all the summoned. We feed them, give them water and train them. Can’t have random freaks running around without a leash can we?” a kind looking guard places a hand on his shoulder and tells him.

Ushering him forward, the leader of the contingent urges him to step closer to an opening in the bared opening overlooking the pit. “As a rite of acceptance, you can kick the trainee captain in,” he states while glaring at the boy.

A battered body is placed in front of him, lined up perfectly with the opening. The body barely gave any resistance as the boy kicked closer to the ledge. The captain starts beating on the bars and the other guards chant in harmony. Struggling to move the body with just his legs he grabs the bars and pulls with his arms while pushing with his feet.

Almost, the body was hanging halfway off the ledge when it starts to desperately pull at the bars. Frowning the boy puts in more effort, he kicks and shoves. He stomps and crushes, but the battered man would not let go of the bars. Just as the boy was about to push the man off, the captain pulls him back. A massive set of jaws clamps down on the man, tearing him in half. A few moments of terrifying screeches and shrieks another mouth, smaller but longer grabs the rest of the body while disappearing beyond what could be seen.

Clasping his shoulder the captain, “What's your name son?” Still, in awe, the boy responds, ”I’m Madras” Congratulating him, the captain says, “I’m John, the king’s left hand, and Captain of the Royal Decree. I welcome you to our folds, Madras.”

***

Scrambling back onto his pile, Akiel throws a dead rabbit away while muttering, “Rabbits, If I see another, I swear I’ll kill it before it can even flop its stupid ears at me.” a one-meter Akiel places his book underneath him and sits down. Closing his eyes he begins the process again.