Birds didn’t chirp today. Neither did animals stir. There was no wind to rustle the leaves. The forest was quiet; the forest was dead. I paid close attention to the health of the forest. Being in control of the dungeon meant I had the power to tamper with its ebb and flow. I grew used to its regular beating the longer I stayed.

Today was strange. There was something wrong, and I hoped it was not more ‘visitors’. I directed the zombie, who had recently completed his mapping task, to scope out the area, to check for irregularities. It was reckless for me to leave and crazy to let the metal slime who was anxiously hopping in place out of my sight. The zombie knight would have to do.

They rode in from the south. The zombie knight hid in the brush on top of a hill, overlooking the scene. Knights from Hevagrain trampled through the forest. Were they looking for me? I stressed before convincing myself that could not be the case: if they cared about finding the knights and I, a large search party would have come through here long ago.

I had the zombie knight slowly follow them. If it gets caught, it would be killed, but that was better than me or the slime being found instead. I looked over the map and tracked the knights progress through it. They numbered several dozen and their progress was fast and straight north, as if their goal was already determined. It was possible they were passing through, going to reinforce the northern border or meet up with some larger group.

The zombie knight trailed behind; it was difficult for an undead to match pace with knights on horses. Even though I could estimate the knights path – which problematically took them through the elf village – I continued to have the zombie follow them, just in case.

Rain fell, making the zombie’s trek more difficult. The same, I estimated, to also be true for the knights. The zombie reached the village and it saw the rain fall through rising smoke. The knights ran their horses through the village, torching the buildings and slashing the residents. There was crude fighting, resistance in the form of random arrow shots and thrown spears. However, the armor withstood whatever the elves threw. Though, for most, there was no retaliation. Only panic. They ran, scattered like ants pilling out of a broken mound. I considered there could be conflict between the elves and knights – but not a massacre.

Many elves who survived the initial rush flooded out and towards the forest, hoping to find refuge among the trees and brush. I hastily recalled the zombie – it being found in the fray would complicate things even more. I could have it fight, but it was a losing battle, a suicidal one.

What could I do? I felt useless and lost, forced to sit and watch knights from my kingdom slaughter elven men – the women and children too. Even if I held the power to help, intervention might still result in a terrible situation. I could do nothing but watch.

The zombie knight returned without getting into trouble, which was nice. I made it sit in a corner somewhere on the fourth floor, out of sight and out of mind. Its scouting was not needed anyways: as the elves fled their home and into the forest, they encroached upon the dungeon’s domain, and any land in my operational range, I could sense and observe. Using my abilities, I felt their panic and flight.

Knights hounded them through the forest, their horses leaping through bramble and brush. Their swords slashed. Their horses trampled. The rain poured, mudding the earth. The elves sought refuge from the onslaught, heading for the caves to hide. Of course, the knights sniffed them out, but I was concerned: a large group of the surviving elves were headed in my direction. I didn’t know if they were aware of this place’s existence or not. But I ran through the cave through the surface. If I could just get to them in time, maybe I could direct them inside and use my powers to conceal them. I could do something, I could save lives.

I reached the entrance, but the knights were already upon them. Unaware of my existence, they slaughtered the elves at the foot of my dungeon. I froze. Paralyzed. I wanted to yell. To scream. To shout. To fight. My legs didn’t move. My body trembled. The knights were silent in their killing, like sectors of death. The pattering of rain was accompanied with screams of dying elves.

“You there, what are you doing?” My trance was broke and a knight trotted over to me, most of the violence ended.

“I-I-I live around these parts…” I managed to stammer.

The knight looked me over through the helm which masked his face. He sighed, “Shame you had to see this mess. These elves were causing troubles around these parts. Several people have been going missing, and well, they are to blame.”

“S-so th-that is how it is?”

“Not the best job, killing everyone in the forest you know, but orders are orders.”

I repeated, “Everyone?”

“Everyone,” the knight did not stutter. “This land is good land. Of course, there are people interested in developing it, but that would be hard to do with people on it. They wanted a clean slate, if you know what I mean.” The knight carefully looked over his sword, using a cloth to wipe some of the blood off. “Those nobles even asked us to map out the area for them – a disgraceful job, something fit for those adventuring folks.”

“Map? You need a map?” I tried to repress my heavy breathing. My heart was about to beat out of my chest.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,” he coyly responded.

I fumbled through my pockets and pulled out the parchment, careful to not let it get ruined in the rain. “What if I told you I had a map of the area?”

The knight folded his arms, “I would say I would be interested in it. Would save me a lot of time in this dirt infested region.”

I presented the map to the knight, “I spent a lot of time working on this.”

“I bet you did,” the knight replied, snatching it from my hands. “Not bad,” he said after looking it over. His attention didn’t leave the map. “You know… it’s a shame you had to see this entire mess, you know?”

I swallowed the spit in my throat. “What do you mean? A shame to see what?”

The knight roared in laughter. He rolled up the parchment and tucked it away out of the rain, “You best get out of here – especially if you don’t have any more ‘maps’.” He called to the other knights which trotted around, leading them off back into the forest.

Somehow, I did not collapse from fright. The lower half of my body was violently shaking. I took deep breaths. Control to my body slowly returned. The knights were gone, and I ran into the forest.

“Anyone out here? Anyone alive?” I refused to believe everyone had been slaughtered. There had to be someone alive somewhere, and I resolved to try and save them. I kept shouting, I kept running. Slowly, my range limiter was approaching and I cursed myself for not increasing the dungeon size. Maybe if I had, maybe I would have more tools to help with. I would never know.

In the distance, I heard coughing. I directed my attention to it and headed over. Every so often, I would have to go past the body of an elf. However, slouched against a tree, was an elf breathing heavily, clutching an arrow in its gut.

I rushed over, “Stay with me,” I ordered, “I’m going to try and save you.” She – the elf – didn’t say anything but weakly look at me. Color was draining from her face fast.

I panicked. I wasn’t a doctor. I wasn’t a medic. I wasn’t a healer. I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew I had to do something. There were not even any supplies I could use or fumble with. The only thing in my possession was a huge reservoir of mana.

So I did the only thing I learned to do, throw mana at a problem. I opened up my dungeon senses and focused on the elf girl. The arrow had to go first, but I was not able to digest it through the dungeon since we were outside. I poured the mana into her to close the wounds while, at the same time, I carefully removed the arrow from the wound. It was deep and I didn’t want to mess anything up – removing arrows can be tricky as sometimes it can itself be a clot to stop blood from flowing out. By applying mana at the same time, I manually healed and clotted the wound to allow for the arrows removal.

But I wasn’t sure if it was enough. The arrow was successfully removed, but her breaths were strained, her chest heaving violently. Her breathing stopped. I panicked. Her limbs were limp. Desperate, I opened up my entire reservoir of mana and poured it into her. I could do nothing for the elf village, but if I could save just one person, I would be happy. So I let all my mana flow into her and prayed, prayed that she would live.

I vomited – all my mana was spent. The world was spinning around me. My body was barely able to hold up its own weight. A searing pain shot through my head and my vision blurred. But the girl breathed; she was coming back to life. Her eyelids fluttered as she returned to the living. I, on the other hand, fell over and passed out.