Gil and I stood at the clearing in front of the dungeon. It was just us, no Slime or skeletons or zombies or Lia. A cricket chirped in the brush and Gil said, “Nice night, isn’t it?”

I nodded my head and replied, “Very relaxing – for now.” The moon was out and full and the sky cloudless. Our backs were warmed by a fire lit at the dungeon entrance. “Might get hectic later though.”

“Really?” Gil cocked an eyebrow. “What is on the agenda? Monster making?”

Gil rummaged through a satchel hung of his shoulder and started pulling out books, “Glad you brought me then for my research; there is much to be learned here. What monsters were you planning on making – no, a better place to start would be on mana. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Go ahead,” I said.

Gil took a seat on the ground and cleared his throat, “Mana is what you use to make these monsters, correct?”

“More or less,” I explained, “Slime was created from purely mana, but Tal and the skeletons used a pre-existing base, a body, where mana was an additive.”

“I see…” The mage scribbled in his notebook. “And this process, how much mana does it consume.”

I sighed, “A lot. That’s why I was not looking forward to this; it eats through my reserves extremely fast and using mana to create anything, like monsters, out of nothing increases the cost significantly.”

“Creating things out of nothing – you do that with the furniture and such, right? Is there anything else?”

“Yeah that’s right, I do use it for the furniture. The cost for that sort of thing could probably be driven down if I had the raw materials, but I haven’t tested it out. As for anything else… well… that’s why I wasn’t looking forward to this; I made a mistake in managing my mana pool.”

Gil straightened up and frowned, “A mistake? Could you please elaborate?”

“I was saving up mana while Lia went out to meet you.” Gil cringed at the very mention of that. I didn’t know what happened between the two and I was too afraid to ask at this point. “During that time, I was saving up mana so I could do loads of work once you got here. I didn’t want to waste time meanwhile, so I ran some experiments and sparred with Slime to keep my skills sharp. You know how I can use my mana to improve monsters and make them stronger?”

Pencil to his lip, he replied, “I think you mentioned something of the sort.”

“Well, I thought what if I could apply that to myself. And it worked. I created the power to phase through objects out of nowhere.”

“Problem?” Gil exclaimed, “That sounds great! I’ve never heard about a normal ability like that, so to be able to just create them like that is nothing short of amazing.”

“Yeah, it’s amazing,” I half-heartedly replied, “But it isn’t without problems. First, gaining the skill took everything. Every last drop of mana, mana I had been storing for weeks. The power is useful, yes, but even turning it on for a moment drains me of mana. I can’t waste my pools of mana on using it when there is so much more for me to do.”

“So you would you rather not have it?”

I shrugged, “It’s nice to have, but I was really wanting to use all that mana for other matters.”

“Can’t be helped now,” said Gil. I agreed. “Then shall we get started while the night is still young?” He got up and patted his long rove of dust. “Why are we doing this at night anyways?”

I stepped up and rubbed my hands together, “There is a reason why I’m doing this at night: it will make making one monster I had in mind easier. I’ll tell you more on that in a second.” I pointed over to two rock slabs that jutted out from the earth. “For right now, I’m going to try and turn those stone slabs into golems.”

“Ooooo, golems!” Gil licked his lips. “Those would be very useful for labor and defense. Good choice I would say.”

“I thought so too. Hope they don’t take too much mana,” I said with a nervous laugh. My dungeon senses engaged and mana twirled around me. While I toiled on the rocks, I explained the process to Gil who jotted down furiously in his notebook. Miasma generated from me and spilled out. The black core in my chest in the radiating lines glowed again. Every action was recorded in the mage’s notebook.

Solid slabs would do no good purely animated; I had to give the rocks some form, a proper shape. The mana ran along the surface and chiseled away at it. Pieces of stone where moved around and pebble by pebble it gained shape. It was tall like a giant. Wide like a wall. I crafted on it not one, but two sets of arms. A round head with a singular half sphere in the middle. I gave it a mouth – just in case.

The formation of the two were complete. Mana flowed into them and my mind, my senses, gave them a will. It took hold – life sparked. The empty circle emitted a faint blue light.

“They’re alive!” Gil shouted. The two white stone golems swayed side to side, their spherical heads grinding and examining the environment.

“Hello you two,” I waved at the golems. Their heads swiveled over to see me. “How are you guys doing? Good?” They nodded their heads. “Can you two talk?” They nodded their heads. Maybe they hunks of rock weren’t a vocal bunch. I would have Gil look into them later. “Can you test out your bodies a little bit? Tell me if anything seems wrong.” On command, they stretched out their limbs and worked through the motions. They grappled rocks, bent over, stretched, they seemed dexterous for stone slabs.

“Seems pretty good,” Gil said with a glint in his eyes. The mage was carefully watching the golems, jotting down in his journal without even a glance down. “Now that you made these golems, there is at least one more thing is there not? The one that had to deal with us doing this during the night?”

“Yes, there is one more and that is the one,” I confirmed. “Tell me, besides the miasma I’m creating, do you notice anything weird in the air? Any irregularities in the mana?”

Gil scratched his chin. He got up and planted his stick in the ground, closing his eyes. His blank face devolved into a scowl, “Something stinks in the mana alright and it isn’t you.”

As I suspected. “I don’t know if Lia told you, but her village used to be around here. Hevagrain knights exterminated all of them.”

“Oh, so that foul presence in the mana must be the residual spirit of the dead. Man, that must have been a mess though. What happened?”

“What happened indeed,” I slouched on a tree, “Several people in this area have gone ‘missing’: me, my fellow knights, and some adventures. Technically I am the reason for that but no one really knows that. A combination of some nobles wanting this land and the Kingdom needing someone to take responsibility for the disappearances turned into a blame game – and her village suffered the brunt of it.”

“Must be tough on her.”

“I thought so too, but I can’t honestly tell with her. I can’t tell if she’s completely distraught or doesn’t even care.”

Gil chuckled, “Yeah, Lia is a little socio… I mean strange. So you intend to turn these residual spirit into monsters?”

“This is the hard part,” I sighed, “I intend to turn them all into one. I don’t know if you know anything about wights, but they are an amalgamation of these left-over spirits and energies – fighting them was often a bitch. Most cases a single wight is just a handful of these energies, maybe four to five people. My goal is turn over a 100-people’s worth of energy into one.”

“Why one?”

“Frankly, I don’t think I have enough mana to create a separate monster for that many – or it would take a long time to do so.” I fidgeted and scratched my arm, “Time I don’t think we have. These spirits, if left alone, might form into wights and ghosts and other apparitions naturally. I’m afraid I won’t be able to control them in that case. That’s why I have to take of this before it turns into a situation like that.”

Gil scratched his neck, “That sounds a little dangerous, pushing yourself like that…”

I walked up to Gil and clasped his shoulder, “I know. It will be dangerous. Who knows what type of wight will come out after bringing together all that energy. Please, if it comes to it, use your magic.”

The lanky mage squirmed under my grip, “Hector… you know I don’t how I feel about that…”

“Please.” I looked up into his eyes.

He slouched, “If my choices are self-defense and death, I guess it can’t be helped.”

“Thanks, my friend.” I went over to the empty clearing and began setting up a suit of armor. Slime would be angry if it knew I had this, but I actually forged this myself using the metals and minerals I was able to scout out in the earth using my senses. I found some good metals down there, making this a very nice suit of armor. It would be the wight’s body. On either side of the clearing I stationed one of the golems. If things went poorly, the plan was the golems and me taking point while Gil prepares his magic.

“Hey, Hector, are you sure about this?” Gil clutched his staff tightly, his knuckles going white from the pressure.

“What do you mean,” I asked while finishing up my preparation.

“Didn’t you get in a fight with Lia about this sort of thing? She said she was mad at you for messing with her which I guess she means about you messing with her dead village people. That would explain the skeletons you told me about as well.”

“Perceptive as ever, Gil.” He was a smart man so it was no surprised he connected the dots fast. “You are right, but wights are a little different. They exist as a new entity from the energy that makes them up. You might know more on the subject than me, but as far as I know, they are like a new existence that absorbs and takes in the residual energy, memories, and such from the dead.”

Gil sighed, “Yes, you are right. I suppose it doesn’t matter since they would probably naturally form anyways…” He was deflated. Actually, he was quivering.

“Let’s get started while the moon is still out and full – this is when their energy is most dense.” From my observations, the energy of the slain village people were drawn to the dungeon anyways. The night sky and the moon makes a difference in the strength and prevalence of these energies, but I never understood why. Gil and the golems were at the ready. I took a deep breath and began the process.

It was experience like none-other. Screams. Crying. Shouting. Wailing. I extended my reach as far as I could and gathered the numerous mana and energy from the dead spirits and beings. Their will and existence was black and putrid like toxic sewage and my work was like handling it without an inch of protection. Sorrow, misery, depression, guilt, rage, their emotions and feelings and memories from the moments of their death were etched into the very essence of the mana. I continued to take deep breaths and escorted the energy into the vessel. I could feel the miasma pouring out of me which doubled the acidity in the air. Mana drained from me in chunks, but I persisted. This had to be done.

Mana and energy streamed through the air. It took form becoming a stream of hazy green and blue. The armor sucked in every last bit that flowed to it. Ethereal fire erupted within the vessel, dancing with the same fog green that seeped into it. Shaking on the ground it clattered and clanged.

“There’s something wrong,” howled Gil. “You have to stop Hector – there is something wrong with the mana!”

“I can’t stop now…” I gasped out. There was something wrong and I could feel it. The collective energy of the 100s in the air were gathered, but the suit of armor that was springing to life kept on taking more.

“It’s taking mana at a dangerous rate! The mana ley lines, your body, it can’t take this sort of strain!”

Gil didn’t have to tell me that. The miasma tripled and my body seared from the waves of mana that poured out from the earth and the world. Even though my very bones were shaking from the strain, I had to continue, I had to finish it. A sudden end to the process would throw all the flowing mana into chaos. The repercussions would be unknown.

The cool night turned frigid and a piercing frost crept into the air. Miasma muddled the air, ushering in a dense fog. There was the light of the fire, the shining of the moon, and roaring emerald green energy that blazed from within the armor. The vessel stood up. A cackling laugh from its featureless face shivered my spine.

I pushed my dungeon abilities as far as I could. The energy was coming from the ley lines below, so I focused on cutting off that flow. Loose mana still whirled in the air and I wrangled them, focusing them straight into the towering monster. There was little left the air. Close enough, I thought, and ended the process. I collapsed, doubled over in weakness and pain. My hands were shaking uncontrollably. The meat on my bones was gone – the creation had left me emaciated.

A deep, air-like voice spoke, “Are you my creator?” The wight beheld me, its numerous shades of green and blue flickering controllably in the armor.

I wheezed, “Y-yes…”

“You look… a little weak.” Every word of the spectral entity reverberated.

“No thanks to you. You sucked up everything – and then some.”

It chuckled, “I thank you for that. My birth was inevitable, but your ‘guidance’ granted me power I would not otherwise have.” It crossed its arms, “Now, I know a little of what is going on; by taking bits of your mana I was able to learn of the situation. When do we ride out to slaughter? It is not right to let vermin breed and endanger us.”

I looked over at Gil. He looked as confused as I was. “Hold up, we aren’t slaughtering anyone – yes, there might be a battle and we might have to kill people, but it’s out of defense.”

“Oh? A battle? Not a slaughter?” The green flames from beneath the helmet flared, “Even better. How many are at your disposal? 200 skeletons or wights? 300?”

“Uh, no. We got three skeletons, those two golems, a zombie, and a slime.”

The wight remained silent for a moment. It remarked, “That’s not a lot.”

“I know,” I sighed, “That’s why I made you.”

It bellowed, “Of course! How could I be so daft. An army needs a general, needs direction. A fitting task for a death knight such as myself.”

It called itself a death knight and I repressed my panic. They were a creature far more powerful than any normal wights or apparitions. I utilized a large mass of mana – that must have been the catalyst for it forming directly as such a creature. Gil couldn’t hide his quivering.

I asked the death knight, “Do you have a name?”

“I am the fusion of the dead lingering here and of those swept by the currents below,” it said, “I am death, I am fear. I am them, but they are not me.”

“That’s great and all,” I said with a scratch to my neck, “But what should I call you.”

“It doesn’t matter. You are the creator -- naming rights belong to you.”

Naming was always difficult. “I’ll get back to you on that later. I need some time to think about it.”

The death knight nodded. “We are targeted. Give me a weapon, show me your monsters. Time is precious.”

I glanced at Gil. His face shared the unease I did. The death knight was powerful, its permanent chilling aura was evident of that. I gave it a suit of armor, but not a weapon. The monster’s true nature was still unknown.

“Your concerns are valid,” it vibrated. “Trust is hard to comeby. I will not go against you. As my creator and the dungeon core, your power over me is absolute.” The death knight nodded at Gil, “And that mage isn’t a twig like he appears. We all know that.”

“Very well, let’s go inside then. Keep in mind the dungeon is still under construction,” I said. The death knight listened and followed Gil and I. Surprisingly, it spoke to the two golems and ordered them to stand guard outside -- and they listened.

“Three skeletons, a zombie, and a slime?” It sought to confirm.

“Correct.” Up ahead at the entrance was Tal. The zombie was close to Gil these days so it was no surprise it was nearby. The death knight looked over it and said nothing, so I kept leading it down the dungeon.

“There is potential to this place,” it observed during the trekk. “You are building with purpose. Good. It is as they say, functional yet stylish.” The death knight’s armor clanged in the dark, crushing the ground. “The dirt, however, must go.”

“Working on it,” I said, latched onto Gil’s shoulder. Walking was extremely difficult. I had no energy, no power, no mana. Creating the death knight had left me completely drained, even my muscles feel like they had deteriorated in the process. We reached the third floor and I pointed out the skeletons conducting manual labor. The death knight, again, was not impressed.

“I do not mind slaughtering all of humanity by myself, but an army would help.”

Again, I said, “I am working on it. It takes a lot of mana, and I just used all of it and then some to bring you to life.”

“Fair.”

We reached the bottom floor and it was more impressed with it than the others. While the others were slowly turning to rock through my mana conversion, I had taken deliberate care in designing the bottom floor. I haven’t expanded it, but I made the stone smooth, added two pillars for support, and generally renovated the area.

“Beyond those two wooden doors is my chamber. I think the last monster, the slime, should be in there.” We went up to it and Gil helped me open it.

Slime was not in the room; a humanoid creature occupied the space next to my bed. It’s surface glistened and shined, reflecting the room around it. Its limbs dangled and twisted as if there was not a single bone in it. It turned around at our arrival displaying its form, the body of a beautiful woman; it had breasts and curves, hair and skin -- but it was metallic and featureless, like a doll.

“W-what are you?” I managed to say after overcoming my shock.

It had a face, eyes, mouth, and all. It grinned and said in a girl’s voice, “Am Slime.”

“Splendid!” The death knight exclaimed striding forward with arms wide. “Finally a monster worth beholding. You said a slime, a lowly creature, but this is a fine being, one worthy of being underneath me. Its beauty is a facade; I can sense its power.” The death knight waltzed over, examining every inch of Slime. “I will take this one for myself,” It vibrated out a deep laugh.

His enjoyment was cut short as Slime punched it square in the chest. Slime’s arm extended, carrying the death knight crashing through my wooden doors. Panicked, I looked through the hole to see if the death knight was okay. It laid in the rubble grumbling to itself, complaining about how that hurt. I let out a sigh of relief.

Slime said cheerfully, “Shilly death knight, I’m only for Mashtah. Try anyting and I’ll kill you!” Slime was cheerful and her threat, smiling. Slime turned to me, “Sowwy Mashtah, took me long time to evolve.”

‘“I-it’s alright... “ I wasn’t sure what to say. The change must have just happened since Slime was still trying to figure out how to speak; she was messing up words and slurring. It was cute, though. With the death knight on the floor aching in pain, my friend who was already writing in his research notebook, and the slime who was now all grown up, I had a feeling things were going to get more busy and interesting. But first, I collapsed on the floor and passed out. The night was a long one and left me a dead man walking.