The Dungeon’s Child

Book 3

(The Slime Dungeon Chronicles)

By: Jeffrey “Falcon” Logue

Acknowledgements

To my family for believing in me

Thanks to my editors and beta-readers for their efforts

Cover and Design by:  Silvia Lew, my amazing illustrator

Gallery:  http://www.silvialew.com/

●●●

-       #1 story on Royal Road Legends Website for the month of June 2016; over 100,000 views - http://royalroadl.com/

-       All work within this novel is fictional.  All characters, places, and adventures were born within the mind of the author and have no relation to anything in real life.

-       This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only; no copies should be made without the consent of the author. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work.

Text Copyright © 2017 Jeffrey “Falcon” Logue

All rights reserved

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Epilogue

Bonus Content

Prologue

Prologue

'Who am I?'

That is the most common thought that comes to mind in my sleep. It's strange.  So long has past, but in many ways I remain the same … and yet so much has changed.

This slumber, this rest, I have been here so long I may never need to sleep again. I remember things here, though, in my dreams.

The happy days are the best. I remember mother, and father, and sisters, and brothers; they all played with me in the garden. They laughed with me.  They cried with me, and the sun was always shining.

The nightmares are scarier, the ones that come after. My brothers called out to me to run and left with the shiny swords in their hands. My sisters joined them except for a few who came with me. They were scared; I was too.

Father took me away and ran. I asked him where mother and sisters were; he cried.

The nightmares move fast, so fast I can't see everything. That's okay though, I don't like the nightmares. They always end the same way though; the one called hero cut off father's head...  but father came back and stabbed him. Then, father comes to me and places his hand over my face.

The happy memories come back after that, and they last longer. I smile at them.

Something's changed, I realize, as the memories seem to start to fade. The happy ones, and the nightmares, seem to get more blurry. I can feel things again, things I haven't felt since I stopped being able to count my fingers and toes.

I know I'm not too smart, but I feel so old. It's strange.  So much has changed in me, yet so much has remained the same.

'Who am I?' I wonder.

The answer, in a strange way, does not come from me. It comes from the outside where I'm going.

"Little one, you are one of us now.”

Chapter 1

"It is as I said before your Majesty, that slime dungeon invites nothing but calamity upon our land," Father Tobias declared, the outrage clear on his normally pleasant face, "First a demon and a cult appear in our city, then a crypt of centuries old evil appears to massacre half the townsfolk!"

"The cult was here long before the dungeon arose," Lord Mannis interjected from the side, “and the Tomb of the Forgotten King has been pillaging villages for hundreds of years.  To . . .”

"The cult came out of the mud of our cities a mere few days before the dungeon was found," Tobias countered, "The reports are clear that the dungeon formed the same time as the cult here and has been a clear goal for them to use in their plans.  The death of the princess . . ."

"Enough," Prince James raised his voice, "Do not speak of that tragedy again, Father Tobias; we are well aware of the fate of our sister Diana."  The weeks of ruling in his father's stead had taken a toll on the crowned prince.  Lines of experience had begun to appear on his face, and he had started to grow a beard like his father.

Father Tobias nodded curtly, "Apologies your highness, but my point stands.  The city has had nothing but trouble since the dungeon appeared.  It is my duty as a Father and representative of the church to ask how we will deal with this dungeon so as to preserve our city."

The other nobles rubbed their hands and murmured among themselves.  Even Lord Mannis chewed on the point.  Everyone agreed that the city had gone through some hard times lately with the death of two members of the royal family, the king falling into depression, the discovery of the cult and the subsequent purge, and the pressing concern of invasion from the Empire.

Prince James eyed the empty seats in the room, "From what I can see, the dungeon afforded us the perfect opportunity to rid ourselves of the rotten limbs that plagued both this council and this city.  Even the undead tomb dungeon was destroyed; you yourself told us how pleased the gods were."

Father Tobias frowned in annoyance, "The gods may be pleased with the destruction of evil, but that does not mean we should be carefree.  What is next to come for us?" he raised his hands, "Our city lies in chaos because the corrupt noblemen who supported the under-carry are all gone.  The black-market is in shambles, and many are at a loss on how to adapt to the damages.  Not that it is a bad thing," he said continuing hastily at seeing the raised eyebrows and frowns, "It is just that there is a large void now in our city.  The criminal elements that survived are engaged in turf wars that threaten the lives of our citizens, and the void of authority summons further trouble from new sources."

"Furthermore," Father Tobias continued, "The Dungeon Town took so many losses that it is almost deserted.  Everyone from miners to craftsmen were forced to fight for their lives, and now there is a large demand for many services.  The church is overwhelmed in performing the passage rights for those who fell in battle."

"Father, get to your point please," Lord Mannis stood up at this moment and crossed his arms, "I am tired of you playing around with your request."

Father Tobias turned to him and mirrored the lord by crossing his own arms, "The dungeon is an ill-omen and must be put down; I’ve said this before.  My request, then, is for the complete conquering of the slime dungeon and the removal of the dungeon crystal."

The room erupted in arguments, some calling for destruction while others defending the dungeon.  Prince James slammed his sword onto the table, silencing everyone.

"As I said before Father," Prince James said, speaking quietly, "Bring me a valid reason, and I will consider your request.  At this moment, however, the dungeon has served itself and us.  We have made profits through the mines and acquisitions from the monsters, and it even assisted in the fight with the undead dungeon.  Now, I realize that all of these actions were done selfishly to preserve itself like all dungeons, but it has taken no malicious actions against the town or our people.  I will not authorize its destruction without a proper reason, and this is final."  Prince James removed a wooden mallet from his robe and hit it against the table, announcing the decision was complete.

Father Tobias considered, then nodded his head in acceptance, "Understood your Majesty; I will not bring this topic up again."

His calm answer surprised everyone in the room.

"Father, why so calm about this decision?" Magus Ganus asked in surprise, voicing the opinion of many, “Are you not still worried about it?”

The Father chuckled, a slightly dark edge in his voice, "Naturally, with how things have gone, the dungeon will create its own downfall soon enough.  We just have to wait for the next disaster to occur before you are all enlightened on the danger it brings to our city."

The room was silent as everyone considered this ominous prophesy.

Lord Mannis cleared his throat, "Be that as it may, let us turn to the next topic of discussion." Inclining his head toward the Prince, he said, "Your Majesty, the reports clearly state your father has succumbed to his grief and lies witless in his bed. The city cannot be without its ruler, so I move we begin planning your ascension ceremony to become the new King Duran."

James rubbed his beard in thought, "While I agree with you Lord Mannis, I do not wish to give up on my father just yet.  Since our youth my brother Marcus and I competed for the throne.  Now he is dead and I stand to gain power through the loss of my father.  This is undesirable to me.  I have some things in mind that may help him with his recovery -- rumors that I will have to confirm later on.  For now, let us move this matter to the side. I call forth our spy to report from the empire's war front."

A gruff man dressed in full leather and fur walked out of the shadows and stood before the council.  He bowed his head abruptly in respect and took a shaking breath.

“I bare greeting to the Council of Duran,” he said in a low voice, “The reports indicate the Empire is making their move against Groatland . . . “

*********

"Is it open yet?"

"No my lord."

"Is it up yet?"

"Nope."

"Is it free yet?"

"Not yet daddy."

" . . . How about now?"

"NO!" Three voices yelled at Doc, startling him from his vigil over the cocoon in his heart room.  He turned with a sulky expression toward the source of the voices; his pixie partner Claire and the two worgs he had adopted as daughters.

"You didn't have to yell." Doc muttered to them.

Claire placed her hands on her hips, "You've been constantly asking us about it for days now Doc.  Only Anadine is taking you seriously now."

Anadine, a blue slime with the appearance of a certain former princess, smiled happily up at Doc as she saluted, "A pleasure to serve my lord."

Claire smacked Anadine on the head, sending vibrating jiggles through her body, "You need to stop encouraging him otherwise he'll go on forever."

"I like to hear my lord's voice," Anadine said happily; “To serve by answering his questions is life’s greatest pleasure.”

Claire groaned and placed her hands on her face, "I can't believe I have to deal with the two of you now," she complained, "Why couldn't you have been smart?"

"Because I'm a slime," Anadine pointed out reasonably.

". . . Touché," Claire nodded in defeat at Anadine, who winked and reached up to hug her.  Claire avoided the tentacle hug and dived into the fur of her adopted daughters.

"No hugging!  No hugging!" Claire cried out from the safety of the fur.  The two worgs growled jokingly, their inner voices giggling at the scene.

Doc smiled happily, "It's nice having so many people to talk to now.  I can't wait until our new boss joins us in . . . what did you call them; shenanigans?"

"Not helping Doc," Claire's muffled voice arose from the fur, "You should keep a better hold over your bosses so they don't try to eat me."

"We don't try to eat you mommy," The worgs spoke up.

"I know, and I love you all the more for it," Claire replied happily as her head popped up out of the fur, "Unlike someone who keeps trying to bury me in slime."

Anadine smiled, her face slightly confused, "I thought two becoming one was the highest form of intimacy my Lady?"

Everyone stared at her.  "You eat people because you love them?" Doc stated bluntly.

Anadine blushed and placed her hands on her cheeks, her expression cute.  Evidently, slimes could blush by changing colors; Doc learned something new every day.

"No my Lord; When I eat them they join you, which in turn allows me to join with you too.  It's . . . my offering of loyalty to you."

Claire scratched her head in thought, "Well, she's not exactly wrong; though the way she says it is sending shivers down my spine."

"We'll eat more adventurers to send to you daddy!" The twins chorused in excitement.

"No, uh, just keep doing what you have been doing," Doc tried to dissuade them, "I think Anadine is a little confused on what love and loyalty mean."

"Love is becoming one, and loyalty is offering up one's collected love," Anadine answered promptly.

"Yeah," Claire said dryly, "But I don't think love is made of bones and blood.  Is that why you try to hug me too?"

"Oh no my Lady; you just taste really good, like how my Lord tasted when I hugged him," Anadine smiled happily.

Claire was horribly conflicted now; the knowledge she was the same as Doc fought the idea of being treated as a delicacy.  Doc was experiencing a similar dilemma.  Was being tasty something he should be aiming for?

"Anyway," Claire jumped on a tangent, "Our new friend should be awakening in a few days, so let's all do our best to make the dungeon as nice as possible to present to him."

"I'll clean up," Doc announce to the group.

"We'll eat all the remains," the three monsters chorused together.

Claire crossed her arms, "Okay, that's everything.  I'm going to go get some more plants to place in the dungeon and in my house."

She disappeared in a flash of purple light, flying up into her travel tunnels toward the forest exit.

Doc stared after her.

"Is she back yet?"

"No my Lord.  She just left."

Doc muttered to himself as he turned his attention back to the boring responsibility of maintaining his dungeon.  He wished the adventurers would hurry back in soon.

Chapter 2

Jare grunted as he hoisted a tall stack of lumber onto his shoulder.  With both shoulders holding an equal weight now, he set off from the forest lumber station toward the town.

"Big Bro, why are we doing this?" Anhel whined as he struggled to carry a much smaller load in his arms, "Why aren't we exploring the dungeon like before?  This kind of work is rather dull."

Jare sighed, privately agreeing with his younger brother, "Anhel, we are adventurers, and as adventurers it is important for us to complete the tasks posted in the guild requesting help. With so many lives lost in the attack last week, there is now a shortage of labor in the town."

"Thus," He moved the logs slightly to make his shoulders feel better, "All adventurers have been asked to help until the new workers arrive in town."

"It's been little more than a week, long enough for a rider to arrive at Duran and return with news," Anhel observed.

William grunted from behind the two of them, "Workers, families, equipment."

"Will is right," Jare gestured in agreement, almost losing his grip, "The new workers have to move their families and everything they own to this town, so it will be awhile until the dungeon becomes busy again.  Most are coming from other city-states, so their journey will be longer."

Anhel muttered under his breath as the three followed the line back to the edge of town, where the broken areas of the palisade were being expanded to grow the area out. The three dropped their load into a large pile of logs, lumber, and cross-bars.

The foremen nodded at the three with a satisfied smile, "Thankyou adventurers for your assistance. I've marked you all down for today's job.  I’ll deliver your payment to the guild in the morning."

The three beast-men nodded their heads and left the work area. As they walked back into town, they walked among the busy streets toward the guild hall. Residents were hustling and bustling back and forth on the streets carrying supplies, materials, messages, and news.

"I'm still surprised how quickly these humans are able to move on and start rebuilding," Anhel noted.

Jare chuckled, "Even though these humans live in cities, they are all descended from the plains like our clans. We have more in common with them than many of the other human countries."

"The law of the plains states that one must only take what one can and leave the rest for tomorrow," Anhel quoted.

"Right," Jare rubbed Anhel's head, "Leave the past behind, and build on the future. There is no need to be weighed down by anything that does not serve a purpose."

"A strange custom indeed," a voice said in amusement behind them, "Considering beast-men are known to drag such grand quantities of food with them even after feasting for days."

The trio coughed awkwardly.

"What can I say daughter of fire," Jare turned around to look at Fiora, "When you wander like we do, you never know when you'll find enough food; might as well take as much as you can with you."

Fiora, her injuries mostly healed, laughed happily as she patted the black beast-man on the arm, "Well said, well said Sir Jare.  Forgive my intrusion, but the guild-master would like to have a word with all of you at her residence."

Jare raised an eyebrow, "Are you two getting along better? I know not the circumstances, but I always could smell the conflict between you two."

Fiora's grin faded, but settled into a small smile, "It is better now.  Anyway, allow me to lead you."

Fiora, the fiery haired warrior, led the trio back through the alleys to a small, unpretentious house. She walked up to the door and knocked loudly.

The door opened to reveal Ally, who smiled at the beast-men as she curtsied.

"Honored adventurers, it is a pleasure to once again be in your presence."

Jare rolled his eyes, "Enough with the formal stuff; I know you are currently being a maid, but at least be civil to my poor heart."

Ally winked, "Why, do you have dreams of perfect little maids that reside in the big cities?"

Jare coughed into his fist as he felt his brothers staring at him, "Actually no, but a dear friend of mine would be quite disillusioned if he saw you acting that way."

Ally raised an eyebrow, "And this suitor would be?"

"The guild master wanted to see us?" Jare prompted.

Pouting, Ally led the four up the stairs to a large bedroom. There, Mary lay weakly on her bed as Bella and Carla tended to her with healing magic.

Anhel sighed sadly, "Guild-master, you are still not looking the best."

Mary opened one eye and frowned at the red beast-man, "Come closer, and tell me that little one."

"I'm good, thanks,” Anhel ducked behind William’s larger frame but was promptly pushed back into view.

Mary chuckled as she forced herself into a higher sitting position. The three girls hurried over to support her better with a wall of pillows. Once she was settled, she crossed her hands and smiled at the four adventurers.

"Well, what do you think?" She asked softly.

Jare scratched his nose, "I didn't think both you and the Father would collapse during the after-party. You both caused quite the ruckus you know; an entire week of healing magic being cast on your body and you still look a bit weary."

Mary shook her head, "I doubt Father Jonas is in the same physical condition as I am; he merely over used his faith magic and should be almost back to normal now after praying for days. I, on the other-hand, have used up quite a bit of vitality to power my own magic and have thus paid a heavier price."

Jare shook his head, "Blood magic though, you realize the church will never let you have peace now.  The forbidden arts . . . "

Mary waved her hand dismissively, "I have friends in high places within the clergy who owe me a few favors. They will ensure nothing bad happens to me, but I doubt the same can be said for our local chapter. It is no matter; the sacrifice was necessary in the end."

"However," she leaned forward, "I have not called you all here to talk about me. I have a job for you." She turned her head to look out the window into the distance toward the mound in the plains, "The dungeon was paid by our resident mage, but we have heard nothing from it in a week. Since it did not grow, it must have expanded its power in another ways. It is important that we know how the dungeon has changed."

"I have received word," she continued, "that the Empire will soon begin their invasion of Groatland in force.  With the threat of lycans on the battlefield, your team is being recalled to the frontlines by the local Adventurer Guild."

The three beast-men growled at the news, their fists tightening as blood-lust began to flow freely from their bodies.  Fiora and the receptionists took a step away in fright.

Mary snorted, “Alright, enough of that now.  My request is that before you leave, the three of you complete the dungeon run so as to give us a complete report on what to expect in the dungeon.  It has been agreed that this assignment will also be your official rank-up test, so do your best.

She turned to Fiora now, “When they are gone, it will be your team who is highest ranked here.  Study the reports carefully with Jare before he leaves, and then it will be your turn to have your rank-up test.  Do you both understand?”

Jare and Fiora placed their right arms over their chests and saluted together, “Yes Guild-Master!”

*********

Doc, who couldn't feel fatigue, felt tired. Not the tiredness that came from moving or being awake for too long of course, his drowsy thoughts were coming from his current existence.

Ignoring the demon attack and the dungeon invasion, Doc himself had been living the same day for months now. In fact, by his memory and also the methods the adventurers used to keep track of time, it had almost been an entire year since he had first woken up.

Frankly, Doc was bored.  Initially, he had been amazed by the discovery of boredom, but now he was quite tired of feeling it.  He wanted some action, adventure, or some adventurers taking action inside the dungeon.  Even a miner getting caught by the Ooze would be interesting.  He was impatient for someone, anyone, to come back.

He sighed, "Huuu, has Claire returned yet?"

"No my lord," Anadine smiled at him as she responded.

"Poppa, you should stop asking Ana that question. It's getting old," The Twins complained in his mind.

"Why; she isn't complaining," Doc asked them.

He felt the two girls rolling their eyes at him, "She's so loyal she'll never complain to you Poppa."

Doc looked over to Anadine, "Am I bothering you?"

Anadine shook her head, "No sir, you are my lord, and it's a pleasure to serve."

"See, she's okay with it," Doc declared confidently.

The Twin's only response was an exaggerated sigh and sense of defeat.

Doc muttered, "I'm bored . . ."

"My lord," Anadine piped up, "Why don't you look into the notebook and monster cores? You enjoy working with new slime evolutions."

Doc chuckled mournfully, "Well . . . none of us can read it."

The dungeon room was filled with awkwardness.

After receiving the payment for assisting the adventurers, Doc and Claire had eagerly fallen on their prizes. To their regret, however, they quickly realized a large problem. Including Claire, none of the sentient creatures in the dungeon could read the notebook.

The slime notes were largely written in a strange new language that no one seemed to be able to understand. Claire, with her knowledge of over 7 languages, really took a blow to her confidence after admitting she couldn't understand it.  She spent the subsequent night cursing the notebook, calling it a “series of scribbles and watermarks”.

On the other hand, the monster cores were a bit of a mystery of a different sort. No matter how Doc swallowed, chewed, bit, gnawed, or kicked (which was accomplished by pulling some of his slimes in for the job) the cores refuse to be digested.

Doc took out the two cores from his astral bag and juggled them with a slime. "These things aren't fun to eat," he complained.

"Perhaps we were cheated?" Anadine asked with a tilt of her head, “Should I hunt the old man down for you?”

Doc shook his slime, "Claire confirmed the old mage followed through on his end of the deal; I just don't know how to absorb these monster cores."

It was true; dungeons didn't normally work with monster cores that were freely given. If a monster joined the dungeon, its core would turn into energy the dungeon would absorb. If a monster died in the dungeon, then its body would join the dungeon like any other, dragging the core with it. Adventurers normally never carried this kind of treasure into a dungeon, so cores were never gained from body loot.  Even if they did have them, the cores would be treated as loot and end up in the astral bag gathering dust.

Doc created a tentacle and rubbed his slime body with it, "You three have any more ideas on how to eat them?"

"Smash it?"

"Bite it?" The Twins suggested.

"Something new?" Doc clarified.

Anadine rubbed her chin thoughtfully, "Maybe make them submit?"

Doc looked over at her, "What do you mean Ana?"

Ana slid over to the juggling cores and held one in each hand, "Well, as I understand it, a dungeon such as master deals with monster cores through submission correct?  No matter if it's voluntary in surrendering or involuntary through victory in battle, you dominate them.  Perhaps my lord, you must defeat the spirits within the core in some way?"

Before Doc responded, he perked up and smiled, "Claire is back!"

On cue, the little pixie flew into the room, holding a few plants in a net made of magic.

"Hey guys," Claire called out happily, "I found some new herbs!"

"Good job," Doc congratulated her, "What did you find?"

Claire landed and placed the little plants on the ground, "Let's see: Nightshade, Beltworst, Bloodvine . . ."

"What do they do?" Doc asked.

Claire clapped happily, "They are plants used to make poisons and antidotes. This should make us more valuable for alchemists," she winked and made a cute pose, "Another point in increasing the value of not conquering us."

Doc and the other three all clapped as Claire took a bow. "Alright," Doc took charge, "go ahead and take them to the jungle floors; I'll make sure they propagate."

Claire saluted and zoomed away. As soon as she was gone, Doc sighed and scratched his slime body again.

"Well, that was fun; bored again though. What were we talking about?"

"Well we were . . ." Anadine began

Claire reappeared in an excited blur, "Hey Doc, I overheard some of the adventurers talking about the beast-men. They are coming tomorrow to conquer all your floors!  It's finally time to show off all the new slimes!"

Doc's slime body vibrated until it was ready to burst; Doc was really excited, "This is great! It's time for the new bosses and traps and everything!"

The Twins ran around in excitement as well, "We get to fight! We get to fight!" They didn’t care that their bodies were covered in dead slime now.  Claire had wisely ducked behind Doc’s crystal and avoided the mess.

"I as well my lord?" Anadine asked curiously.

Doc shook his head, "No, not yet Anadine. Once they conquer floor 25, I can finally use the shards from the Undead Dungeon’s core to expand the dungeon to 30 floors and get the next level of slime evolutions! You can come out to play after; you'll be the first wandering boss. Be sure to leave at least one alive out of every group so your reputation grows." Doc looked over at Claire, "Is that right Claire?"

Claire held her thumb up, "Exactly how I told you; good job Doc. Yes, once the dungeon changes we can justify Anadine's presence.  But," she raised an eyebrow, "Are you still letting The Twins run around floors 21 through 25?  I understand the idea of a mystery boss that harasses over multiple floors, but the idea still makes me nervous."

Doc waved her off, "It's fine; those are the dark floors and the mini-ambush factor is important. Cowards shouldn't be able to get through, and those floors are the end of the first fourth of the dungeon I have planned."

Claire raised an eyebrow, "Really, you have a plan for your dungeon already then?"

Doc shrugged, "Well, the elemental floors should have their own 25 floors eventually; that's about my limit for now." He looked around and smiled, "Let's get ready for tomorrow everyone; it's time to fight!"

*********

The three beast-men stood in front of the dungeon entrance, standing side by side. They stared up at the skull at the top of the cave arch.

"You ready brothers?" Jare asked.

William nodded, and twirled his new short swords, "Ready."

Anhel gripped a new wooden staff and glanced down at his spell-book, "Yup, ready to go."

"Get on with it!" A loud voice startled the three brothers into jumping. They all coughed awkwardly as they remembered the small crowd surrounding them. Jare grinned sheepishly.

"Uh, we really didn't expect a crowd for this."

The crowd chuckled. Jare recognized Fiora and her group as well as some of the other higher ranked adventurers. The rest of the group was made up by other town survivors; merchants, builders, townsfolk, and miners. They all began to cheer and cry out encouragements.

"Go get 'em boys!"

"Pride of the town! Bring home the A-rank!"

"Show that dungeon who the boss really is!"

"I love your fur!"

"Do your best!"

"We'll be waiting!"

"Selling high quality bear rugs!"

Everyone turned to stare at the rug salesman, who quickly beat a hasty retreat before a deluge of refuse came flying his way.

Jare laughed and raised his hand high, "All righty then, off we go!"

The three entered the dungeon to the cheers of the town.

*********

"Here they come!" Doc exclaimed happily as he watched the adventurers enter the center room.

"Then here's to a wonderful show," Claire announced as she pulled her meal of honey soup and herb tea onto a table. Since her old wall pedestal was stuck in the jungle slime boss room, Claire had created a new one in the heart room complete with chairs and table and a little flower pot of nightshade.

Doc glanced over at her, feeling slightly jealous. "Why didn't you make me any food?"

Claire rolled her eyes, "Doc, you don't have a tongue, mouth, or teeth.  Your slime bodies have no sense of taste either.  Making delicious things for you would be a waste."

Doc grumbled at the unfairness of life, then turned back to the show starting in his dungeon.

"Since they beat the jungle slime, they will be showing up on floor 11 first. That's the . . . first grey family floor. I wonder what they'll think of the floor,” Doc murmured softly.

Claire twirled her hair around her finger, "Well, they'll likely think wings are a sorely missed gift from the gods.  Maybe you should consider working on some flying slimes."

*********

When the three beast-men reappeared, they found themselves at the bottom of the staircase from the 10th floor.

Jare raised his nose and sniffed, "We are definitely not on the jungle floors anymore."

William scratched his nose, "Smell . . . rocky."

Anhel shrugged, "Well, we are underground. I'm surprised we haven't smelled the earth before on the previous floors; just dull magic."

Jare walked over to the tunnel and knocked his fist against the wall. After listening to the echo, he scratched the wall with his claw. He sniffed the dust on his finger.

"The magic in the rock is less here; the rock is normal, like a real underground tunnel," Jare announced, “It’s as if the magic here was used to the point of dispersion.”

Anhel pulled a scroll out from his adventurer bag and opened it for a quick look. "I guess the few adventurers who made it this far didn't note the change in magic level."

"What did they note?" Jare turned and asked.

Anhel grimaced, "They noted the floors weren't worth the risk and turned back. The reason is up ahead."

He led his two brothers down the tunnel. When they turned the corner, the three froze.

"Bear balls," Jare winced.

William snarled and shook his head, "Bad."

Anhel shrugged, "Indeed; that's what the other adventurers said too."

The tunnel emptied out into a huge room with another tunnel entrance on the other side of the room. The only issue was the floor was rather sparse to say the least. The entire room had two levels: the top level had narrow stone bridges that stretched across the room to various platforms. The bottom floor was covered in moving slimes.

Jare whistled as he leaned over the edge to stare down, "Talk about a pitfall trap; oh hey there's a ladder here."

"At least there's a chance to recover if you fall," Anhel rolled his eyes.

"The fall isn't that high, even for a human," Jare noted, "As long as they landed right, any adventurer should survive this with minimal injuries."

William snorted, "Mass of slimes."

Jare shrugged, "Well, they did fall I guess."

The two were interrupted by Anhel tugging on their arms, "Hey big bros, look over there! That's a treasure chest!"

They followed Anhel's excited gaze to one of the stone platforms, where a wooden treasure chest sat.

William sniffed the air, "Can't smell, rock stop."

Jare scratched his chin, "Seems like the natural rock smell is hiding the fake chest odor; adds a little quirk to our quest," he shrugged, "Well, let's go open that chest up shall we?"

Chapter 3

"They're walking over the bridges," Doc watched in rapture as the trio approached the first chest.

Claire sipped her tea, "Hey Doc, is that a real chest or a fake chest?"

"That's a real chest; they got lucky."

The two of them watched as the black beast-man opened the lid and reached inside.  Claire smiled as the beast-men cheered at the contents.

"It's nice to see success sometimes Doc; almost as much fun as watching stupid deaths and careless mistakes."

Doc chortled, "Heh, can’t disagree with that.  There is plenty of opportunity for the normal stuff later." He scanned the contents the adventurers had removed from the chest, "Looks like they got some coins, some leather armor, and a magic crystal."

Claire frowned, "That’s kind of a lot for a chest isn’t it Doc?  You appear to have distracted them."

They listened in as the red beast-man examined the crystal.

"This is a fire crystal?  I’ve never seen one so pure looking before.  What do you think brothers?" the red fur asked the other two.

The black one shook his head, "No, I have not seen a pure crystal like this before in this country.  The mountains are normally the source of crystals of this purity, or greater, but even there they would be pleasantly surprised to find this."

Doc frowned, "Okay, enough with the musings.  Claire, do you mind checking on the boss while I remind the adventurers where they are."

"Sure Doc," Claire flew up into the dungeon.

Doc turned his attention back to the floor and concentrated.  At his command, slimes began to rise from the platforms behind the beast-men.

"Hey, the slimes are coming!  We need to get a move on before they surround us!" the black one called out.  The three dashed away as grey slimes slid over the ground toward them.

"How will you deal with this then?" Doc murmured as he sent his mind into the stone.

Two gelatinous slimes crawled up the pillar in front of the beast-men and began to wander the platform.

Doc laughed as he heard the curses of the beast-men.

"Brothers," the red one called out, "Gelatinous slimes don't have a core; they need magic to be dealt with!  Be careful!"

The black and brown one laughed at the red one and charged ahead.

"Why, fight?" the brown one yelled back.

The black one threw out his hammer into the left slime, sending it flying into the air and over the edge.  The brown one slashed his two blades into the air, sending wind slices out that cut the right slime into smaller pieces.  As the slime struggled to reassemble, the beast-man created a large wind blast that scattered the pieces over the edge.  As they ran by, the red one stomped on the few little pieces that were left.

Doc sighed, "Boo, that's too boring.  Fine then, how about this?"

At his command, 4 magic slimes shuffled up the next platform and began to unleash their magic on the trio.  The beast-men dodged the attacks by bending their bodies and running forward.  A few spells hit the black and brown adventurers, but they gritted their teeth and took them head-on, protecting their younger companion.

The red one, then, was chanting a spell from his spell book.  Thanks to the protections of his fellows, he finished his spell.  An ethereal turtle appeared in the air, its cries turning into a shield that covered the lead beast-men.  With the shield covering them, the beast-men now ignored the magical attacks as they bounced off.

Doc winced as the magic slimes were quickly destroyed.  He focused his attention on the battle as the black one began talking again.

"Anhel, are you sure it's okay to use the turtle spirit so early on?  You can only use that spirit three times a day right?"

Doc perked up, "So, the magic spirit beast-man uses magic with a limited number of uses a day.  How interesting," he mused as he stored that knowledge next to the other information he had on other magic user types.

He stopped talking as the red beast-man spoke, "Don’t worry big brother.  The slimes appeared quickly because we were huddling around the chest for far too long.  Unless we come across some traps, we shouldn’t need to use it as long as we quickly pass through the other floors."  The adventurer shrugged, "As long as we find a safe place to sleep peacefully, I'll be able to recover."

Doc nodded his head, "Yes, don't be too quick; take long enough to entertain me."

"You aren't wishing for their deaths?" At her voice, Doc turned to meet Claire's gaze as she closed the door behind her.

Doc’s laughter echoed through their bond, "If I was able to create a boss that could defeat them then I would indeed wish for their deaths.  However, they were able to survive the boss of the undead dungeon who had existed for hundreds of years.  I doubt I could create anything close to that level of strength, and it would be boring if they died to anything weaker."

Claire rolled her eyes, "I work so hard to take away your sentiment for sympathy so you can enjoy killing, and you twist it around into some kind of macho-warrior horse dung.  If I didn't know you were male before, I definitely know now."

Doc sighed with a ‘what-can-you-do’-like tone, "I learned how to have standards from you."

"Touché Doc," Claire acknowledged as she settled down onto her personal slime.  She squirmed around until she was comfortable, then turned back up to the images playing across his crystal.

"You sure are taking a real hands-on approach here.  Why not leave their journey to your subconscious and save yourself the effort until the boss fights; why waste the mental effort?"

"Because," Doc explained, "this is a good chance to see the reactions of high level adventurers to my tricks and traps.  I can see what scares them and what they laugh at, which can then help me judge the dungeon level difficulty for the future."

Claire snorted, "You're just really bored huh."

"Yup," he answered honestly.

*********

Father Jonas sighed as he pushed himself out of bed.  Wearily, he grabbed his healer prescribed cane and made his way across the room to the window.  He gazed out and examined the outside.  His room was on the highest level of the administrative building next to the main church and had a splendid view of most of the town, the forest, and the slime dungeon.  He frowned at the sight of the large crowd in front of the dungeon.

"So the testing has begun then," he nodded to himself.

A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts.  "Come in," he called out.

Priest Horace entered the room, a slight frown on his face.

"Father," he called out, "You know better than to be moving around so early.  Our clerics clearly stated . . ."

"Bah," Father Jonas waved his hand dismissively, "I felt the glory of Duras in my heart, and so today I can resume my duties.  I have spent too much time as it is resting."

Priest Horace frowned, but inclined his head in understanding, "As you say Father; though it must be said that both you and the guild master are hard pressed to keep in bed."

Jonas chuckled, "The difference is that I have my faith to heal me faster while she is forbidden from . . . Never mind." He shook his head of the thought, "Has there been any news from the clergy?"

Priest Horace nodded, "The council has sent good words for you father, all to congratulate you on your efforts and success in defending the town.  The Holy Father himself offered his most pleased tidings for the news of the destruction of the invader dungeon."

The Father frowned slightly, "All and truly expected, but was there anything we did not expect?"

Horace nodded and reached into his robes, "I have three letters here specifically addressed to you with magic seals: from the Holy Father, a Holy Mother, and Father Tobias.  They arrived each by Holy hawk, who await your response to the Holy messages." He handed the letter scrolls over.

Father Jonas accepted them with a neutral face, "Leave me for the moment as I deal with these."

Priest Horace bowed and closed the doors behind him as he left.

Taking a seat at his desk, Father Jonas first opened the letter from the Holy Father.  With the many religions worshiped in Nehatra, the clergy was ruled by a council formed by a Father from each religion.  However, the council then answered to one of the Holies, the highest authority of the church in any country.  Holies could become their gods’ or goddesses’ vessel for periods of time, and knew better the desires of their lord, though no one ever quite knew which lord or lady they represented.  With this also came greater magical powers derived from faith and the adoration of the masses.  Jonas himself answered to a Holy Father who governed the peninsula part of the continent.

He read through the letter quickly.  Not perturbed by its contents, Jonas wrote his reply.

"Lord Holy Father," he began, "I regret to inform you that your suspicions are correct in the quality of information found within the report.  As I have sworn a holy oath to Duras, the person of interest is thus my responsibility and I shall be watching him or her with the utmost caution for signs of evil.  Since, however, his or her actions have stayed within our laws I cannot violate my oath until such time.  Rest assured, I shall be most vigilant.  The assistance of the dungeon has indeed been verified.  Whether this can be used in the future requires further study.  If you wish to implement the test, I will be prepared to follow your commands.  Your disciple, Jonas the Pure."

He next opened the letter from the Holy Mother, the ruler of the adjacent province.  A small smile played on his lips as he dipped his pen back into the ink.

"Lady Holy Mother, it does me great honor to hear from one such as yourself.  It is good to hear from you, considering how the war has progressed in your province.  I promise to send my support, along with the understanding that any help you need I will provide if possible.  To answer your question, she is doing well."  He sighed as he sealed the letter.

In a pleasant mood, he opened up the last letter from Father Tobias.  The soft smile abruptly vanished as he read through the missive.  He slammed it down on his desk.

"HORACE, ATTEND ME!" He roared out.

Priest Horace ran into the room, a startled look on his face.

"Father, what is it?" he asked.

Jonas snarled, his face twisting in an uncommon anger that left Horace shocked.

"Tell the temple knights to start guarding the gates of the town.  I need to see the guild master right now; a prisoner has escaped from Duran."

Horace's face returned to its normal serene look, "Understood sir.  Who should I tell them to look out for?"

The father sighed as his face changed to one of worry, "The former Lord Rotch, father to Sir Koran.  He escaped, and demons were involved."

*********

"Looks like they just finished clearing the 14th floor," Claire observed as she flitted around Doc's crystal, "Are you going to prepare the boss fight now?"

Doc, possessing Claire's slime, rubbed two tentacles together in an expression of elation (as much as a slime could appear to be elated), "You know it Claire. I'm already putting it all together."

Claire flew up to the table to grab her tea. Taking a sip, she dropped back down to the slime and wiggled her tush into a comfortable position, "So then, remind me what they are going to face again?"

Doc mentally cleared his imaginary throat and used a slime tentacle to point at images on his crystal, "For the 15th floor main boss, I have a wonderful fight prepared using only the finest abilities of my magic slime boss. Its attacks include elemental magic of the four core elements alongside a few buffing spells it can cast on minions.  For today's side minions, we have: a heal slime, two armor slimes, two normal magic slimes, and a gelatinous slime. The first course will consist of the armor and gelatinous slimes, while the second course will be the magic slimes. The heal slime shall be presented from the start of the fight till its resolution."

Claire calmly sipped her tea, "And will there be free refills of heal slime for this fight?"

"Of course Milady," Doc mentally bowed to her, "Unlike previous fights, from now on the boss may call for additional heal slimes by merely knocking on the walls of the room."

"Ramming attacks?"

"Ramming attacks," Doc confirmed.

"Excellent work chef," Claire finished her tea, "You did a good job learning how to showcase from me."

"Is it weird to treat this fight like a buffet presentation?" Doc asked.

"Not at all Doc; after all they are merely strong and interesting sources of mana aren't they?" Claire tilted her head with a small smile.

Doc used the slime to shrug, "I rather see them as sources of fun."

"Of course you do Doc, of course you do."

*********

Jare slammed his hammer down, crushing the last slime into the ground. He let out a sigh as the rush of battle left him.

"Phew, I think that's the last one for this platform; you both alright?"

William nodded and began to pick up the left-over loot, "Fine, good battle."

Anhel stowed away his book in the opened bag, letting William put the loot away. "I'm fine too; you both kept the slimes from reaching me. Since this is the last platform, let's hurry over to the exit door and take a break there so the slimes don't chase us."

"Good idea little brother," Jare kneeled down and helped William collect the loot. When they were done, the three walked briskly over the last bridge to the platform in front of the exit tunnel.

Jare took a quick look down the tunnel, "Looks like the boss room is next brothers. Anhel, how many spirits do you have left?"

Anhel opened his book and read through it, "Ignoring the specifics spirits, I can call the spirits six more times today. What boss do you think is up ahead?"

William sniffed the air, "Slime."

Jare and Anhel gave William a droll stare.  William shrugged in answer.

"It's likely a grey family slime, but I wonder which one," Anhel guessed, “No matter which it is, though, it will likely be resistant to either magic or physical attacks.

Jare scratched his beard in agreement, "Likely. If you two are ready, let's get started."

*********

As the beast-men entered the boss room, Doc looked over to Claire and sent her a mental wink.

"See you after the fight Claire."

As he said this, he let his mind flow into the 15th floor boss room and into the boss slime. Taking stock of his current body, Doc looked down and waited until the adventurers had reached the center of the room. As soon as the black one's foot stepped down, Doc made the boss body exhale a huge volume of air, causing a roar-like sound that forced the beast-men to jump back into a battle-ready stance.

Doc released the ceiling and let his body fall to the ground. His body sloshed out into a puddle before reforming into a large slime. Doc created two slime tentacles and waved them at the adventurers menacingly.

"It's a magic slime boss," the black one cried out, "Anhel!"

As the red one began chanting, Doc willed his minions into the room. In front of him, two armor slimes and the gelatinous slime came into being from the floor. When they finished forming, the three slimes began their attack. The black and brown adventurers rushed forward to intercept them.

Doc then called the healing slime, which fell from the ceiling onto his head.

"Spirit of the turtle!" the red one finished chanting as the magic deflecting shield appeared again. Doc frowned as he began to unleash fireballs at the adventurers.

As expected, the magic was deflected by the shield and the two fighters ignored the magical attack. Seeing his magic was currently useless, Doc pumped up his body and charged toward the three beast-men. The black one and the brown one were forced to roll out of the way; the slimes bounced off Doc and rolled toward their opponents.

Seeing where the boss was aiming, the black one cried out in warning, "Anhel, look out!"

The red one leaped out of the way just in time to avoid Doc's charge.

"Do I grab while I'm near him?" Doc wondered to himself, "No, that would be too difficult for the weaker adventurers. I’ll stick to simple actions for now."

He let himself slam against the wall, using the opportunity to call two grey slimes from the ceiling.

"Big brothers don't let it slam into the wall; it calls more minions that way," the red one yelled as he leaped backwards, dodging the grey slime attacks. He then began to throw fireballs at the slimes, advancing towards the battle.

Having heard his fellow adventurer, the black one turned to the brown one and said, "William, I'll go fight the boss so it won't charge anymore. You deal with these three."

The brown one nodded and attacked all three slimes, drawing their attention as the black one ran toward Doc.

Doc smiled happily to himself, "I watched you fight that giant skeleton; I want to experience how strong you really are." Doc summoned up a fireball, a waterball, an airball, and an earthball and launched them at the black one.

The black one swung his hammer out, knocking away the earthball and waterball while blocking the fireball and airball. When he leaped up and swung his hammer down, Doc raised his two tentacles to block the attack.

However, contrary to Doc's expectation, the hammer ripped through his tentacles and smashed a good bit of Doc's slime. Doc reeled in reflexive pain as he backed away.  He understood the body was in pain, but none of it was transmitted to his mind.

"Crap," he realized, "As a magic slime I have little defense against physical attacks. I made a mistake." Ironically, Doc realized a normal magic slime would never willingly charge opponents with physical weapons; it preferred to stay behind other slimes and unleash its magic from the backlines.

"I lost because I let my emotions get the best of me." Doc laughed as he watched the hammer slam down on his body, destroying him.

Doc winced as he flowed back into his crystal. He didn't meet Claire's smug gaze.

"So," she began, "What did we learn?"

"Don't override instinct when valor can make you do dumb mistakes," Doc admitted reluctantly, "I let my desire for battle overcome me and forgot the weaknesses of my current body."

Claire nodded, sipping a new brew of tea, "That's right Doc. The magic slime is different from the bug boss and the jungle boss; you don't have close range defenses. Be sure to remember this from now on; fight with the body, not against the body."

"Yes ma'am,” Doc moped.  He tilted his head in confusion, “Wait, if you knew that from the beginning, why didn’t you remind me?”

“To teach you a lesson of course,” Claire replied.  Unfortunately for Claire, her blushing cheeks gave her away.

“You forgot too huh,” Doc bluntly stated.

Claire drooped and gave a small sound of confirmation.  “I wanted to see you smash things too,” she admitted.

The two began to giggle as the realization hit them.  “I guess we both have a lot more to learn then.  I can’t wait,” Doc exclaimed.

“Me too,” Claire cheered with him.

*********

Mary's lips tightened as a frown grew over her face, "Is this true? I have had no word of it."

Father Jonas sighed as he looked out the room's window toward the forest, "I received the letter from Father Tobias himself; signed with his magical signature and sealed with his personal stamp.  His words were ‘Keep this issue quiet’.  From my understanding, the king is restricting the search to his personal guard so as to prevent the citizens from panicking over a demon attack."

Mary shook her head, "I understand that, but why hasn't Vance sent me word? I was his vice-master for many years . . ." She narrowed her eyes, "Unless he hasn't been told."

Jonas turned away from the window to look Mary in the eyes. He inclined his head, "This matter is only known between Tobias, myself, the king and his guards, and now you. Given the current state of things, King James is suspicious of everyone."

"King James?" Mary started, "What has happened to King Duran?"

“The king has not recovered from his depression over the loss of his two children.  Crown Prince James has been effectively ruling in his stead, as the Queen has tended to her husband.  With her blessing, he will soon be inaugurated in as the new King Duran,” Jonas explained to her, “However, the issue with Lord Rotch has made things tense.”

Father Jonas looked over to the door and brought up a charm from under his shirt. It glowed and filled the room with light. Mary was unperturbed as she recognized it as a sound-proof charm.

"The line of succession has almost reached its conclusion," Father Jonas explained, "The ceremony is in the works as we speak.  As you know, your Adventurer's Guild is a multi-national organization with many different people working in its upper hierarchy. The status of this kind of state matter is not often disclosed to your people."

"So why explain it to me then?" Mary probed.

Father Jonas nodded, "You see, you are in an interesting position. We have investigated your background and know your status within the elven community, as well as your former home." He waited until Mary motioned for him to continue, "Unlike others in your guild, you have a personal attachment to the affairs of this kingdom and a personal vendetta against a certain . . . individual of the empire. Also," Father Jonas chuckled, "I do have your secret as well."

Mary rolled her eyes, "In other words, you can blackmail me if you so choose. Right then, but why not talk to Vance?  Is he not a part of the council?"

Jonas took a seat next to the bed, "Indeed he is, which is the problem.  Lord Rotch was quietly arrested a few months ago, a little before the invasion of the undead dungeon known as The Tomb of the Forgotten King. He was placed under house arrest at the time since no evidence had been found linking him to his son's activities."

Mary raised her eyebrow as she turned her head to look better at the father, "If he was only under house arrest, then why does it sound like he was broken out of a fortified prison?"

"Because," Jonas said with a gleam in his eye, "According to the letter, one of the guards accidentally stumbled into a room filled with demon worshiping icons and an altar. The guards quickly secured the house, but then something ripped through the defensive perimeter and made off with Rotch before reinforcements could arrive."

At this point, Father Jonas turned and stared Mary full in the face, "The report of demon worship had just been viewed by the inner council: King James, Representative Ganus, Lord Mannis, Father Tobias, Merchant Wendle, and Sir Vance. Between the delivery of the report to the council and the escape, only an hour had passed."

"So only a member of the inner council could have called for demonic interference." Mary's anger rolled over her face as a vein began to throb on her neck, "That means the cult hasn't been fully uprooted from the city."

"More than that," Jonas turned away, "It means that we, this town, have likely become a target. Not only would Lord Rotch feel anger toward us for the death of his son and the destruction of his plans, if he is working with demons then the empire could be in play here as well. The dungeon here is a good source of fighting experience for our fighters; those same fighters will eventually stand against the empire's forces in battle. Also, the dungeon is a good source of wealth, medicinal ingredients, and materials which strengthen our forces. With that in mind, it has been decided that the city will be sending reinforcements here to fill in the losses from the dungeon invasion. Sir Ken and Sir Leo will be leading."

"A member of the royal family? Is that truly the wisest choice?" Mary asked curiously.

"He requested it, and the king agreed. He will likely be looking for closure in private, but he will be in charge of training the town guard."

Mary turned her head toward the window, and the two of them watched the world go by.

"Will this coming storm destroy everything we have fought for; or will it be the start of a new beginning?"

Jonas shook his head, "By the luck of the gods and the will of man, perhaps it will be a little of both."

Mary rolled her eyes, “The will of man?”

Father Jonas coughed awkwardly, “Of course, I meant all sentient races of course.”

*********

"Come on big brother, cheer up." Anhel consoled Jare as they made their way down the stairs to the next level. Ever since the boss fight, Jare had been despondent.

"Why was the boss so weak? Was I too hard on it? Did the new enchantments on my hammer make me too strong? (Sigh)" Jare mumbled as he trudged his way from the back of the adventurer group.

Anhel turned and gave William a pleading look. William returned it with a shrug.

"Slime charge, strange. Perhaps, impatient?"

Anhel pondered for a moment, "You're right, that slime boss has never been fought before. If we consider the dungeon has been fairly quiet with few adventurers diving in, perhaps the spirit of the dungeon was too impatient for a fight."

Jare twitched, seemingly listening in.

Anhel continued, "With that boss dead so easily, I bet the next boss will strive twice as hard to compensate for the embarrassment, if dungeons can feel embarrassed. Why, I bet we'll have a few broken bones at the end of it; perhaps even a few missing teeth."

"Maybe some lacerations?" Jare spoke up hopefully from the back.

"I bet this new boss will have spikes that can gouge a person's heart out if one is not careful." Anhel lied.

With a happy roar, Jare ran in front of the two, a large grin on his face. "Well come on guys; wecan't keep the boss waiting forever."

William rolled his eyes, "Simple head."

"With good ears." Jare yelled from the front, causing William to chuckle. Anhel smiled with relief as his big brother returned to his normal self.

"Hey guys, do you smell something burning ahead?"

Chapter 4

"Incoming!" Jare cried out as he ran back to his brothers, "Gangway!"

He dived and picked up both William and Anhel under his arms as he barely made it around the corner before an explosion shook the tunnel. A plume of fire licked at his back, but missed and lost intensity before disappearing.  Jare panted as he dropped the two beast-men and leaned down to put his hands on his knee.

"Big brother, I thought you were just going to scout?" Anhel asked, slightly accusatory. His beautiful red tail had licked the fire and he was carefully examining it for any burnt hair.

Jare gave the youngest member of the group a rueful grin and said, "I scouted ahead alright, but the little bastards came up from behind me. Luckily, I was able to clear a path to escape before those infernal slimes got toasty. Speaking of, they sure have an appropriate name."

Anhel tilted his head as he considered the thought, "A firestorm slime exploding in a storm of fire, I'm fairly certain the name was given for a reason."

William nodded, "Name, obvious."

Anhel sighed, "This is only the 18th floor of the dungeon; we should be doing fine. We even decided to forgo resting to get to the next boss as quickly as possible," he ended with a pointed stare at Jare.

Jare had the decency to look embarrassed. He coughed lightly and said, "Nothing we can do about it little brother; we are on a deadline. The crowd that cheered us in will be waiting for us to finish up. Anyway, let's go over the current situation."

"At the moment, the only long range combat ability we have lies with your crossbow and William's wind blade ability. You have a limited number of enchanted bolts, and William can run out of mana for his ability if we push it."

William swung his head in agreement and patted Anhel's shoulder encouragingly. Anhel raised his head and released his tail, satisfied that nothing was out of place.

"We are almost to the exit, which leaves the 19th floor and the 20th floor with the boss. Anhel, what slimes have we fought so far?"

Anhel took out a notepad and read through it, "Unluckily for us, both the 16th and 18th floors were both fire themed, while the 17th floor was a water floor. We have encountered: firestorm slimes that eat fire and explode, lava slimes that leave a trail of fire, burning slimes that cover themselves in fire and charge, and burning slimes that breath fire. The water tunnel held: spray slimes that squirt water, stream slimes that leave behind a trail of water, puddle slimes that hide themselves as puddles, bubble slimes that create water shields, and ice slimes that shoot ice and freeze water."

William whistled in appreciation, "Many slimes."

Anhel nodded, "The fire tunnels are really dangerous, but the water tunnel was only dangerous if you encountered ice slime. That slime could freeze any water created, from launched water attacks to the water on the ground."

"Any unique aspects for these tunnels?" Jare asked.

Anhel shook his head, "If anything, there are fewer traps and less chests on the floors we have been on. I doubt these floors would be good for anything besides elemental training and some ingredients for enchantments."

"Alright that should be good enough for the guild report; let's head down to the next floor."

The trio walked ahead, past the new detonation mark, and continued down the fire tunnel. When they reached the staircase, they walked down.

"I wonder," Jare mused as they moved under the torchlight, "As the dungeon grows, will this floor become a series of floors, with the other 3 tunnels becoming their own series of levels as well? What other floors will there be beneath this one in the future?"

Anhel looked sideways at him, "Big brother, you are oddly subdued right now. Did you eat a strange mushroom again?"

Jare frowned, a rare expression, and punched Anhel in the forehead, causing him to blink in surprise. "We will never talk about the mushroom incident again Anhel, did I not say this? That was a special situation."

Anhel rubbed his forehead and grinned sheepishly, "Right, I'm sorry about that big brother. Anyway, why are you in such a mood?"

Jare sighed and rubbed his head in frustration, "Well, this dungeon is just such an interesting place, but I worry about its future." At Anhel and William's questioning looks, Jare explained, "I've told you both before that slime dungeons are a rarity in this world because of their naturally corruptive nature. However, slime dungeons are some of the most interesting places to explore because of the vast variety of slimes and environments. In this entire world," He threw his hands around him, "Slimes are the only creatures that can live in every environment. Even we races that have conquered the world are still limited without our tools, clothes, and magic. But slimes can survive anywhere by just being themselves. Yet, they are always snuffed out too early because of our fear. Even we beast-men who rival the elves in appreciation of nature quell in fear of slimes and seek to destroy them." Jare sighed and shook his head sadly, continuing, "You've both seen the danger of a corrupt dungeon; now imagine instead of undead that can be purified it's an endless army of physically resistant slimes. These slimes feel no pain, no fatigue, have no regrets, and can devour anything from stone to water."

Jare was a loud, boisterous beast-man who never let anything get him down. However, in reality he was getting on in years and had seen many things as an adventurer. Even his two "brothers" were years younger than him and hadn't seen nearly as much. When he drew into a melancholy mood, it was worthwhile to listen to his aged wisdom.

William and Anhel listened and understood their older brother's advice. The horror of the undead dungeon invasion was still apparent from the large graveyard now sitting on the former battlefield.

Jare shook his head as his ever-present smile returned to his face. "Now then, let us continue our adventure. We only have two more floors until the boss, so let's keep it up."

The beast-men exited the staircase and entered the first room of the next floor. Anhel examined the whitish looking walls.

(Whisper)

"You say something William?" Jare asked. William shook his head, confused.

(whisper)

Jare frowned, "That voice is getting farther away. Did someone enter the dungeon before us?" He left the room and entered the tunnel, getting ahead of his two brothers.

"Jare, wait for us!" Anhel cried. As the two entered the tunnel, however, they both heard Jare's startled cry. Fear in their hearts, the two brothers ran to catch up. As they rounded the bend, they froze.

".....Poofy." William muttered in surprise.

They stared up at a very puff-ball version of Jare, who was stuck to the ceiling. Jare was drooping awkwardly as he waved to the two of them.

"A word of caution; I advise you to avoid the yellow looking slimes,” he said casually.

Anhel and William exchanged glances before they burst into laughter. Jare glared at them as they rolled across the floor.

"Oh ha ha; at least I won't be alone up here," Jare announced spitefully.

Anhel and William froze and turned slowly. Three yellow slimes and a white-grey looking slime stared back at them with their eyeless bodies.

(Zap)

Jare laughed as a poofy William floated up to join him on the ceiling, while Anhel was stuck to the floor by his now very fluffy tail. He moved back and forth like a magic balloon on a string.

"How's it feel?" Jare asked.

"Not good," Anhel admitted, "Especially since those slimes look rather hungry." Indeed, the 4 slimes had begun moving toward the trio.

"Um . . . prepare for battle?"

****A certain place****

Lord Rotch frowned as he pulled at his coat, straightening it with the use of a mirror. The lord held himself with a more regal look than his son, being older with gray hair. His build, however, was similar to his son including the musculature.

"Is your appearance really necessary?" A woman's voice played around his ear.

Rotch nodded, his eyes not leaving his reflection, "You know, it's said a man is what he wears. A poor man dresses like a poor man, and a rich man dresses like a rich man."

"And what do you dress as?" The voice asked playfully in his other ear.

"A lord," he said simply, finally satisfied with his appearance. He turned away from the mirror and walked to a table, grabbing a seat. He stared up at the ceiling and frowned.

"They also say a wolf is a wolf even when it wears sheep's cloth,” the voice murmured in his ear, “So what are you on the inside I wonder.”

“If you must know, a bit chilly,” Lord Rotch remarked as he pulled his coat tighter onto his body, “Must we hide in a covered cave instead of a real house?"

He felt the wind move across the room, "How silly little lord. Because of the failure of your son, our little mission has really been put behind schedule. We even had to rescue you, you know." The playful voice gained a harder edge as Rotch felt something wrap around his throat.

Rotch didn't flinch as the force slowly closed on his neck, "Really now, if you wanted to kill me you could have done that without wasting the resources to break me out. And, if I remember correctly, it was your plan that failed and caused everything we were working for to fall."

The force disappeared as a woman came into view in the seat across from Rotch. A slinky red dress hung over her body with her hair flowing down in waves. She pouted at him as a tail whipped back and forth behind her. The tail was skinny and smooth, ending in a triangular point.

"Now why do you have to bring up such a sad point? Don't you have any shame making a lady cry?"

Rotch snorted, a smile playing across his lips, "I'll just let that one slide then. Now, let's get to what you rescued me for. It must be important."

The lady leaned back and folded her hands daintily on the table, "Why little lord, isn't it obvious? Even with our project far behind, it still exists. You still have contacts and knowledge important to us, and you have a personal vendetta that makes you useful."

Anger flared up on Rotch's face as he clenched his fists, "If you mean vengeance for my son, then I'll do anything you want. That bastard dungeon, and those damned adventurers are all to blame."

The woman smiled, "That's perfect. To be honest, the dungeon town is becoming quite a little problem to our plans. Elves, priests, and adventurers all working together is troubling enough, but with the dungeon they are all getting stronger and becoming a force to reckon with. We have a few men hidden in the guards that will soon arrive at the town with the prince, but it will be difficult to smuggle in any more. The town is small and it is not exactly easy to bring in new people without them being watched and scrutinized."

Rotch shook his head, "If that's the case, neither my knowledge nor connections will be useful, especially with my identity as Koran's father. The entire town hates me, and none of my contacts are in it."

The woman winked, "Well, someone you know very well is actually moving his forces into town low key; he's agreed to give you a hand."

Koran pondered for a moment before an enlightened gleam appeared in his eyes, "Ah, so it's him then. I'll be able to pay him some personal thanks for releasing me from my imprisonment. Allow me to say thank-you, Michelle, for your help."

Michelle's eyes twinkled as she raised a wineglass that appeared in the air, "Why, you're welcome little lord. Now, let's see if we can work on your appearance."

*********

The three brothers stood in front of the boss room in silence.

With a stiff hand, Anhel began to take notes in his record book.

"New slimes will be named Static for the sounds they produce; they rely on their lightening like ability to enchant non-enchanted metal with a negative effect, a debuff.  This debuff, then, makes the metal stick to the closest wall. Advice; do not wear non-enchanted metal."

"Do I write about the fur?" he asked in an identically formal manner.

"We shall never speak of the fur again," Jare answered, his face a stone statue.

"At least no one saw that,” Anhel said weakly.

*********

"HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA." Doc's slime form vibrated in laughter so much that it fell to pieces and died.

Claire was giggling so hard she had to gasp for air while beating her chest.

"WHOSE WEAK NOW? Ha ha ha ha ha!"

*********

William nodded his head, "Move on."

The boss floor had consisted of 4 tunnels to choose from, each with a different element. Wisely, they chose the water tunnel and quickly breezed through it without any trouble. Now, they found themselves in front of the second new boss.

Jare removed his hammer and twirled it in his hand, "Let's hurry and get this over with."

They entered the room. Anhel sniffed the air and shook his head, "I can't smell anything; no magic in the air?"

William frowned, "Leeched."

Jare raised an eyebrow, "The boss took all the magic from the room? That would mean it has a huge mana requirement. Stay sharp boys."

The trio moved slowly toward the center of the room, their eyes and ears searching the whole area for a sign of life or movement.  As they reached the center, their eyes twitched and they jumped back quickly.

Blobs of black slime began to rise up from the ground and converged together.  In a short time, a large black slime appeared in the center of the room, even taller than William in height.  When the last black blob joined with its brethren, the entire slime reared up and opened a mouth- like orifice and roared at the three.

"Great heavens what is that?" Anhel cried out in shock.

"Don't know, but look out!" Jare warned. The slime boss surged forward with deceptive agility and attempted to ram them.

Acting quickly, Jare rolled to the left, William rolled to the right, and Anhel threw himself down the tunnel from which they had just come.  As they recovered, two small pink slimes dropped down from the ceiling and began to move around the floor.

Anhel saw the slimes before his view was blocked. "Hit the heal slimes!" Anhel cried out from the tunnel, not sure if his brothers heard him.  He cursed as the black slime sprouted two tentacles and began to whip themselves at him.  The boss couldn't leave the room, but it could attack anyone in the tunnel close enough to be a threat.  Anhel dodged the tentacles and called out to his shaman spirits.

"Spirit of the boar!" he roared. The incorporeal boar snarled and battled the tentacles, thrusting its tusks into the enemy boss.

Meanwhile, Jare signaled to William to deal with the pink heal slimes.  He himself roared out a mighty battle-cry and charged fearlessly forward in order to get the slime's attention.  He landed a single blow and knocked a chunk of it off with the back of his hammer.  The chunk fell to the floor and moved around like a normal slime.

Cursing, Jare slammed his hammer down and destroyed the small slime before it could rejoin the larger boss.  "The boss loses parts of itself when attacked; destroy the parts before they rejoin the main body!" he cried out in warning.  After Jare killed the small blob, the boss turned and sent its tentacles at Jare.  Lacking an effective slicing weapon, Jare found himself in a tough spot as he was forced to smash the tentacles, which did not come apart after the blow.

"William, switch with me!  I can't hurt it this way!" Jare leaped back as William charged forward this time.  Ignoring the wait, he beasted out immediately, his fur growing rapidly over his body as his speed increased.  With a loud snarl, he threw himself past the two tentacles, slicing them quickly into multiple parts.  As he reached the main body, he was forced back by two new tentacles, which swung at him.

Anhel sighed in relief as his boar spirit finished off the two tentacles in front of him.  The boss had moved away from the doorway as well, its full attention now on William.  Anhel quickly burned the pieces of slime in front of him and darted into the boss room.  Seeing William, he quickly called upon the spirit of the hawk to boost William's speed even further.

"Jare, finish them off faster; your weapon is the only thing that can kill the smaller slimes!" Anhel called out.

Jare nodded and also beasted out, smashing his hammer into the ground with such force that the two heal slimes flew into the air.  With a single blow, his hammer connected with both pink slimes and slammed them into the ground, killing them instantly.  He roared and shook off the tattered remains of his clothes as he got down on all fours, hammer on his back, and charged the black slime.  He tackled it back into the hall and, grabbing his weapon, swung out an additional attack.  Landing on the ground, he flew backwards and pounded the black slimes on the ground as William rushed forward and slashed the new tentacles that formed.

As the black slime got smaller, more tentacles began to appear, with new attacks.  A red tentacle burst forward violently and spewed fire from its tip.  A green tentacle sprung out and slammed into the floor with enough force to vibrate the ground.  A blue tentacle began to glow softly as new black blobs formed beneath it and move toward the main body.  Finally, a white tentacle slashed the air violently, sending wind shrieking at the two bears.

The trio made a hasty retreat to the opposite side of the room to reassess the situation.  The black slime moved slowly toward them, the boss’s speed lowered by the multitude of tentacles on it and its smaller size.

"Anhel, what is that?" Jare growled out slowly.  The fact the he was able to speak while beasted out showed the level of experience Jare had.  William could only growl while in this form.

"Unknown new slime variant, like the static slime from earlier," Anhel panted, "It seems to be a combination of all four elements, which is unheard of outside of great magic.  We need to destroy all four colored tentacles in order to beat it; kill the water tentacle first since it's the healer.  I'll fight the fire tentacle and distract it for you."

Ground shaking beneath their feet, the trio nodded and got into position.  Jare and William roared and brandished their weapons as they charged forward on their hind legs.  Anhel removed his clothes and roared as well, his fur quickly covering his body.  However, his transformation was different, evident by the mad red glow in his eyes and the way he turned more savage than his brothers.  A spirit bear appeared over his head as he dashed forward so quickly he over took both his brothers.  Snarling in rage, he flew over the slime and grabbed the fire tentacle in his paws.  He managed to drag the tentacle to the other side of the slime in a bizarre motion that would make most watchers sick.  Arms didn't change places on a body like that, but none of the beast-men paid it any mind.

The fire tentacle recovered quickly and began to burn as it whipped itself at Anhel.  He snarled and dodged up and down, swiping at it with his claws whenever he had the opportunity.  Jare and William reached the three other tentacles and commenced with smashing and slicing with wild abandon and howls of battle-lust.

Jare took on the earth tentacle as it blocked his path to the water tentacle.  It stopped hitting the floor and began to shoot rocks and dirt at him.  Jare snarled and smashed all projectiles coming at him, but each blow forced him a half-step back.  When he was far enough back, the tentacle began to hit the ground again, this time causing stalactites to fall from the ceiling.  Jare was forced to roll out of the way as multiple rocks pierced the earth where he had previously been.

William's blades moved so fast they blurred as he countered each wind strike aimed at him.  Saliva flew from his face as he was also forced back, the wind blows so strong he couldn't risk taking them head on.  With a flurry of footwork, he disappeared and reappeared a few feet in front of where he had previously been.  The tentacle had to pause in order to react, and William was already on the attack.  However, unlike the black tentacles, this white tentacle was able to take quite a few slashes from his dagger before retreating back inside the slime.  William wailed in anger at his prey's escape and sliced furiously into the black slime, sending blobs flying out with every cut.  Jare, who was still running around, began to smash every blob that came his way.

The slime reopened its maw and roared in apparent pain as the water tentacle stopped healing and began to shoot streams of boiling hot water at the two beast-men.  They were forced to dodge the streams of water by using the fallen stalagmites as shields.  The earth tentacle returned to firing earth shots at them, destroying the pillars after 7 shots.

Meanwhile, the fire tentacle had stopped whipping at Anhel and had begun to spew fire rapidly at him.  Anhel, his face covered in an evil blood-thirsty smile, ran under the torrent of fire and jumped on the burning tentacle.  He ripped into it with unholy abandon and succeeded in ripping it off of the black slime.  As he landed with the red tentacle in his mouth, it began to glow bright red.

Snarling, Anhel threw the tentacle back into the slime and ran away.  After a moment, the red tentacle exploded violently, sending blobs everywhere across the room.  Jare quickly picked up speed and smashed all the black blobs he could reach.  William followed up behind him and sliced any blobs that drew together.  After a few minutes, every blob in the room had been destroyed.

Ignoring the tell-tale glow that signaled loot had appeared, Jare and William immediately darted forward and slammed Anhel into the ground, holding down his arms and legs.  Anhel howled in anger and struggled to get free, his mouth snapping at both his brothers.  The two remained firm and held him down, pushing with so much force the very ground began to crack.  After a few minutes of struggling, Anhel seemingly ran out of energy and began to revert to his former, naked self.  He coughed and hacked as his body lost the excess fur and bones cracked back into position.  When he finished shifting, Anhel smiled up at his brothers, who panted with their tongues out in a happy fashion.

"Did we win?" Anhel croaked out.

The two older brothers laughed and reverted back to themselves as well.  "Little brother, we did indeed win this fight thanks to you." Jare clapped Anhel on the back with a smile.

"Good job." William said simply and nodded.

Anhel grinned, than blushed and covered himself, "Can I have my clothes back?  It's cold down here."

Jare opened his mouth to laugh, than grew solemn as he quickly retrieved Anhel's clothes, ignoring his own nakedness.  Anhel took his clothes and quickly covered up the ugly scars on his back.  The scars were old and faded, nasty wounds that bore no hair.  His shame successfully hidden, Anhel shook himself and sighed.

"I hate that I can't even remember the battle.  Why can't I grow up and be like you two?" he complained.

Jare got on his knee and looked Anhel in the eye, "Little brother, it is important that you understand how important it is for you to learn to control yourself.  We cannot fall to our bestial nature and become cursed, like the forsaken flea bitten war beasts of the empire.  If the time comes that you remember the slaughter and fight before you can control yourself, by our laws you will be put down. Understand yourself and control it, or it will control you.  This is a lesson all beast-men must learn."

Anhel sighed and nodded, having heard this line before.

Jare smiled and tousled Anhel's head before turning to the center of the room, "Now, let's see what we have here from the boss."

They fell upon the loot and smiled happily.

Jare roared in glee, "Mana crystals, 2 magic wands, and a magic necklace of some sort; a good haul after a good battle." He yawned suddenly, "Beasting-out uses a lot of energy though . . . sleep . . . needed."

William and Anhel were not much better off as the fatigue hit them. The three quickly made their way into the staircase room and promptly plopped themselves down and fell asleep. Soon, the echoes of snores resonated through the dungeon.

Chapter 5

Once the sun began to set, the crowd dispersed from the dungeon entrance.  Johan stretched out his arms and groaned loudly as he walked out of the mine.

"Man, I'm tired," he complained boisterously.

Behind him, Hamish and Henry roared in laughter as they slapped the younger man on the back, knocking him over.

"Boyo, you've been working long hours early on, but now you’re feeling tired after a short work day?  You need more practice here," Hamish spoke down to him as he pulled Johan up.

Henry nodded his head, "I agree; with the ‘Good-Luck’ parade earlier today we didn't have to wake up early to begin mining.  What do you have to complain about?"

Johan sighed and shook his head, "I don't know; it's just weird being back in the mines after so long.  I mean, we've been building houses, digging graves, and repairing the walls.  It’s different being in the sun compared to working under torchlight."

Henry shook his head and laughed, "Hard work is hard work boy, you'll figure that out eventually.  Come on, let's get to the tavern before it really picks up and we have to stand to drink."

The three of them hurried through Iron Town and into Tent City.  They made their way to their favorite tavern.

"Oh good, we're still early," Hamish sighed in relief, "Be at peace my poor stomach."

"Since you think with your gut, it's no surprise you talk with it." Johan jabbed to the amusement of Henry.  Hamish rolled his eyes as they took a seat at a table.

A little girl ran up to them and smiled joyfully, "Mr. Hamish, Mr. Henry, and Mr. Johan; welcome to the tavern!"

Hamish turned and winked at the little girl, "Well hi there little Milly; how are you doing today?"

Milly clapped happily, "Poppa is still teaching me how to run the tavern, but he says I'm a natural.  He's been really supportive of me since I saved us from that zombie."

The three grown men winced at the monster name.

"Are you sure you're alright Milly?  That must have been scary to meet a zombie inside the town," Johan ventured.

Milly shook her head, "No, I was really brave.  Thanks to the nice red-haired lady who gave me some throwing knives, I made sure the zombie didn't get Poppa.  Just between us," she leaned and whispered, "I used to ask him for throwing knives, and Poppa didn't approve so I had to practice in secret; but he made me my own practice room after my knife got the zombie.  He says he's renaming the tavern ‘The Knifed Zombie’ because of it."

Henry and Johan laughed as Hamish patted the little girl on the head, "Ai, you're a strong one little Milly.  How old are you again?"

Milly thrust out her chest in triumph, "I'm 13, soon to be 14.  Poppa said he needs to sharpen his blades for when the boys start to come over."

Hamish stared down at her, "Oh, already that old?  It's too bad your body is still that of a little child."

Milly frowned and punched Hamish in the arm, "Meanie; I'll tell Poppa to bill your tab early."

"No!  Forgiveness my lady!" Hamish begged with a pitiful expression.

Johan and Henry were hitting the table now as they laughed their hearts out.

The bartender came over to them with a grin as he watched Hamish beg the little girl, "Ho, what is this; the great Hamish on his hands and knees for my daughter?  Looks like I'll be needing my old sword sooner than later."

Hamish rolled his eyes and got up to shake the other man's hand, "How ya doing Fred?  We haven't been over because of the wood working."  His words held a hint of an apology.

Fred waved him off, "No worries; the merchants paid me and the others to make the food you guys ate while working.  How's the mining?"

"Slow," Hamish admitted as he took his seat again, "The walls close up faster now that we have fewer people to work the stone.  It makes it more likely to find veins, but it takes longer to get to them and brings a greater chance of ooze.  Still, the ooze boss doesn't appear as much in comparison, so that’s a comfort."

Fred nodded as he grabbed a seat at the next table over.  Henry raised an eyebrow.

"Don't you have customers to feed Fred?"  Henry asked curiously.

Fred shook his head, "It's been slow enough I can take some time to talk to old friends.  How about you youngin, you doing good?" addressing Johan.

Johan shrugged, "Getting back to being used to the torchlight, but I'm good."

Milly pulled on her father's shirt, "Poppa, can I go practice my knife throwing?"

Fred smiled as he tousled her head while she giggled, "Of course sweetie; be careful."

The four of them watched Milly scurry away into the kitchen.  Fred sighed when she was gone.

"I still can't get over how fast she's growing up."

Henry turned to Fred, "You sure you should be letting her practice with throwing knives?"

Fred shrugged with a small smile, "You should have seen her when that skeleton burst into the tavern . . ."

"She said it was a zombie?" Johan spoke up.

Fred hesitated, then nodded, "Right; that's right because I thought it was strange a zombie was here rather than a skeleton.  No skeletons at all in the tavern . . . I think?” Fred’s eyes turned glassy for a moment, as if his mind was drifting away.  He shook his head and resumed talking, “As it turned out, it was some dead villager we didn't know."  He turned his head to look at the door Milly disappeared into, "I was throwing myself in front of my girl, but Milly ran out from behind me and threw the knives at the damn thing without a moment's thought.  Lucky those knives had a small enchantment on them; the zombie just dropped after getting hit once."

"Did she act weird after the fight?" Johan asked gently, “The horror of battle keels even the bravest men at their first.”

Fred chuckled and shook his head, "Nope.  I still see some men throwing up from the memories of that final fight, but Milly just collected her knives and began to clean them.  When I asked her how she felt, she told me it wasn't scary because losing me was scarier."

Henry sighed, "Yeah, the girl is strong indeed.  I had the shakes fighting the army of undead; it's sad a little girl beats me in bravery."

"Is that normal though, to be at that age and face zombies without a moment's fear?" Johan spoke up.

The other three men shook their heads, "No, but . . ." Fred was at a loss for words.

Hamish turned to Johan, "What are you thinking boy?  I admit it's strange little Milly got the zombie, but maybe it was the blood telling her head to act.  Wouldn't be the first time someone did something amazing when the rush of fighting be running through them."

"I know, but it's just too weird to me.  Maybe I'm just overthinking it." Johan admitted to himself.

Hamish shrugged and turned back to Fred, "Hey, Milly said she got the knives from a red-head right; as an apology?  You should call Fiora over to thank her for the gift."

Fred's face turned confused, "What are talking about?  Fiora didn't give her the knives."

"But she's the only fire-haired in town, besides the guild master on a bad day." The four chuckled at the joke.

Fred shook his head, "To be honest, I never saw the lady herself, but Milly said she had red hair.  It happened sometime before the dungeon invasion though, I think."

"Strange . . ." Henry thought out loud, "Well, no matter.  Can we get three rounds and three house specials."

Fred grinned, "Coming right up boys."

*********

Milly smiled happily as she skipped over to her target, removing her 6 knives.  She caressed them softly as she walked back to her starting point.

"And a one, and a two, and a THREE!" She threw the knives at the same time.  Even though they were thrown haphazardly, all the knives curved and hit the targets right in the center.

Retrieving the knives once again, Milly sat down to oil and sharpen them.  She hummed to herself as the knives glittered in the light, casting a strange, red glow onto her eyes.  She giggled happily as she held each knife up to the candle and nodded in satisfaction.

"All good to go," she placed the knives onto the floor around her in a circle.

"Now, how did she tell me to recharge their magic?" She murmured to herself, "Right, the chant."

Sitting cross-legged in the circle, Milly began to chant.  The words were strange, not at all in the common tongue.  A red glow appeared, flowing into the knives from the circle.  As her eyes were closed, Milly didn't notice a small bit of red climb up her body into her mouth.

When she was finished, Milly opened her eyes and stored the knives away back in their case. As she placed the case back on the shelf, she patted the skeleton head which sat next to it on the shelf.

"I'll be sure to practice tomorrow too! Be sure to watch me Mr. Bubbles."

For just a moment, the skeleton's right eye socket held the same red as Milly.

Chapter 6

" . . . It's dark."

"Yup."

" . . . Can't really smell anything either."

"Yup."

" . . . I think we're lost."

"Yup."

"William, it's times like these I really wish you talked more."

"Yup."

Jare grabbed hold of Anhel's angry body as he tried to rush toward William's voice.

"Anhel, I know you're frustrated, but don't take it out on William's voice," Jere pleaded.

He listened to Anhel's head turn, presumably toward Jare's voice

"Well then big bro, let me take my anger out on you!"  Jare winced as Anhel kicked his side.

He released Anhel and rubbed his sore side, "Calm down little brother . . ."

"Calm down?  CALM DOWN?" Anhel shrieked, "I HATE BEING IN THE DARK."

When the beast-man trio had finished their nap on the stairs, they had made their way down to the 21st floor, the start of the last five floors.  There hadn't been anything out of the ordinary at the entry room, so they entered the tunnel darkness.

Unfortunately, the darkness had continued until the trio realized that they couldn't retrace their scent.  Somehow, the darkness had a magical sense in it, so much so that it interfered with their noses.  It gave the effect that the darkness was alive and all-encompassing.

Also, none of the three had figured to bring torches, as every other floor so far had had torchlight on the wall.

Anhel's tantrum began to get worse as he moved away from Jare.  Even if he couldn't see him, Jare could hear Anhel's shivering, his hands rubbing his opposite arms in an effort to keep calm.

"Anhel, I know you have a hard time with the dark, but you need to stay with us," Jare took careful steps toward his youngest brother.  Anhel growled at him, but accepted Jare's hug when his brother reached him.

"You aren't there anymore." Jare whispered, "You're safe with us; they can't get to you anymore."

Anhel whimpered, and Jare felt hair receding from Anhel's hands.

"When did he start to change?" Jare wondered privately.

"Danger!" William warned suddenly from somewhere in front of them.  Jare heard the sound of sword striking something hard, and then he heard something panting.  It wasn’t William.

Keeping his arm around Anhel, Jare removed his hammer with one hand and wielded it.  He grimaced at the weight, because his hammer was meant to be used with two hands.

He heard the growl and reacted reflexively, swinging his hammer out as he turned his body.  The hammer sung through the air and came into contact with something; sending it flying into the wall.  Whatever it was yelped and stopped making noise, but Jare sensed it had merely fled.

Unfortunately, he didn't hear the other one.

A large, furry form slammed into his body, sending him, it, and Anhel sprawling into the dirt.

Anhel, startled by the loss of comfort found in his brothers form, roared out and beasted-out.  Jare landed awkwardly, his arm crushed by the hammer that had fallen with him.  He growled in anger as he felt the pain spread, and struggled to get up while Anhel and the beast fought.

By the time he got up, the beast had fled, an enraged Anhel on its tail.

"Anhel, come back!" Jare cried out, but Anhel was too far gone to hear him.

A moment later, William's hand grabbed Jare and helped him up.

"Sorry, knocked down," William apologized.

Jare waved him off, "It’s okay William, they got me too.  We need to find Anhel quickly."

"Not slime," William observed.

Jare nodded, forgetting William couldn't see him, "Yeah, I think we found out where the worgs disappeared to.  I just hope Anhel isn't trying to fight both of them."

*********

"Children, children it is time to come back in."

A sister called from the doorway.  Outside, kids were playing around the field and trees.  Upon hearing her voice, however, they quickly gathered together and followed her obediently into the building.  She led them to a classroom door, where another sister stood waiting.

"Did everyone have fun playing outside?" the sister asked them.

"Yes Sister Polly," they chorused to her.

Sister Polly smiled, "Good.  Now, follow me inside for the conclusion of today's lesson."  She led the children into the classroom.

She waited until they had all taken their seats before speaking again, “Settle down children.” When the little faces stopped talking, she smiled at them.  “Now, let's go over what I taught you before playtime." Her eyes scanned the room, "Josh, why don't you remind the class."

A small, dark-haired boy stood up nervously, "Um, you told us about the gods and demons.  There are, ah, three heavens where the gods live and nine hells where the demons live."

Sister Polly nodded, "Excellent memory Josh.  Yes, there are three heavens and nine hells in this world.  Each heaven and hell exists in its own dimension and normally only the spirits of the dead can travel from our world to theirs."

She chanted softly, and blue light flowed form her hands, forming three triangles and 9 small circles.

"Let's talk about the hells first," Polly began, "Demons are creatures formed from the evil of man and the other races.  The gods teach us that demons love to corrupt innocence and despise good feelings like happiness and purity.  There are three major types of demons: monster, sin, and lord."

She wiggled her fingers, forming a dog-like beast, a mean looking muscled demon, and a demon clad in spiked, full-body armor, "Monster demons are to demons what animals are to us; this is a hellhound, one of the many types that exist.  Sin demons are formed after a punished soul rejects the gods, becoming a demon that embodies whatever sin they are guilty of.  Finally, lord demons are the original demons."

"What's original?" one of the little girls called out in question.

"Original means the first," Sister Polly explained, "These demons were never human and are the counterparts to the angels and gods of heaven.  They have different ranks, like in the army, depending on how strong they are.  A monster or sin demon can join a group of lord demons and in some cases rule over lord demons."

"Is there any distinguishing characteristic for demons?” a fat boy called out from the back, “Like say, red hair?”

Sister Polly frowned, "No James, demons have all types of hair color; including brown."  James sulked as he patted his brown hair.

"As I was saying," she continued, "Each hell has a different leader and set of rules to follow; one is ruled by many monster demons for instance.  Another is the major home of the sin demons.  Each hell is fighting with the others to become the ruling hell, which keeps them from working together."

A small boy raised his hand, "Do the gods work together to fight the demons?"

Sister Polly smiled, "That's a good question Alfred.  Yes, the gods work together when it comes to the denizens of hell, but they also compete with each other to gather followers, like all of you.  That means each one of you is important to the all-powerful gods."

She winked at them, causing the class to giggle.

"The three heavens are each ruled by a different pantheon; the Pantheon of Chaos, the Pantheon of Neutrality, and the Pantheon of Order.  Each one has different rules and ways of thinking when it comes to living a good life."

"Who do we follow?" another little girl asked.

"We follow the Order Pantheon Annabelle," Sister Polly informed her, "The major gods and goddesses are Duren of the Plains, Yore of the Forest, Francis of the Stone, Leo of the Sea, Volcana of the Fire, Ingress of the Darkness, and Rile of the Light.  The neutral gods are Equinox of the Seasons, Jura of Judgement, Kira of Law, Turan of Duty, Dietre of Truth, Hegrim of the Home, and Eatrus of Death."

She grimaced now, "The chaotic gods are Gorax of Conquest, Temtra of Desire, Colgram of Vengence, Normid of Survival, Ulus of Wealth, Lunala of Life, and Nimis of Satisfaction."

Josh held his hand up, "Are the chaotic gods evil?"

Polly shook her head, "No, the only evil beings are demons.  However, the chaotic gods are the closest in relation to demons, which is why we don't normally pray to them.  However, they are still important to our lives."

"For instance," she pointed out the window, "Cogram is often invoked with Jura, Kira, or Turan when seeking out one's enemy.  Ingress and Eatrus were actually once married, which is what led to the birth of necromancy.  Temtra has often worked with Hegrim to form families.  Francis and Leo are both known to work with Ulus.  The workings of the gods are both productive and harmful, depending on whom you call for."

"Temtra is the red-haired goddess right?" James called out again.

"Well yes, but . . ." Sister Polly began.

"Fiona is a chaos worshipper!  She's a bad person!" James cried out, pointing at the little girl who was trying to hide in the corner.  As everyone began to scream and point, with a flustered and confused Sister Polly trying to calm them, the world shifted abruptly.

Fiona woke up in a bad mood, her hand wrapped around her sword.

"Hells below, that dream again . . ." she muttered angrily.

Chapter 7

Fiora rubbed her head gingerly as she flipped her covers over and sat up on the edge of her bed.  The feeling of her sword comforted her, and she subconsciously leaned on it.

"Heavens above, I thought I was over that," she muttered to herself.  Fiora shook her head, clearing away the cobwebs in her mind as the sun shone through the curtains.  She stood up and walked over to the window, moving the curtains aside to reveal the morning light.

Fiora allowed a smile to touch her face as she took in the view, "This is so much better than the tent.  Being a hero really does have its perks."

After the successful defeat of the Tomb of the Forgotten King, Fiora and her team were offered a full year's rent at the best inn in the town, one meal a day included.  They had jumped at the chance of improving their living conditions for free, and now the four of them were enjoying the high life.

Though currently, it sounded that some were enjoying it more than others.

Fiora winced as the back wall began to thump.  She stomped over and banged on it, the annoyance apparent on her face.

"Oy, keep it down you two.  I know I said to get a room, but keep it quiet too!"

Her only response was some muted giggling, to which Fiora rolled her eyes and sighed.  After changing into her armor and other equipment, she went downstairs.

Gran was waiting for her in the main room, sipping away at his morning tea.

"Good morning Fiora," he greeted her, rising, "How twas your night?"

"Twas loud," she sarcastically answered, taking a seat with him, "I feel regret allowing those two to share a room.  They've been worse than a pair of horned rabbits in the spring."

She reflected on what she had said, "Though, perhaps with less accidental stabbing and injury."

"Indeed, I imagine the stabbing in this case to be quite intentional,” Gran chuckled as he placed his tea down, "Beside the point though; I was referring to the bags under your eyes."

Fiora forced a blush from popping up, "It's rude to point out beauty flaws in human women Gran."

He rolled his eyes, "If I wanted to give you beauty tips, I wouldn't be asking about your night now would I?  You had dreams again didn't you?"

Fiora signaled the bartender for a drink, "What's it to you?"

"Besides being a comrade in arms, an old friend, a fellow survivor, a concerned well-wisher, and a distant relative?" Gran pointed out.

"Oh yeah," Fiora muttered, "Guess I can't get out of it huh?"

Gran stared pointedly at her.

"Fine, I had another dream of the orphanage," she relented.

"Was it new?" he pressed her on.

She nodded, "It was a memory from the time they combined the orphanage children with the school children.  They had a new sister teach us about the deities, and it ended the normal way."

Gran shook his head, "Red hair is rare in this country, but it is far from being something to discriminate about."

"Tell that to a kid who hears things from his father.  He always was quick to point things out opinions to the other kids." Fiona nodded her head in thanks as the bartender placed a mug in front of her.  She released a happy breath as the warm mead slipped down her throat.

Gran shook his head, "Alcohol should not be had at this hour of the day you know."

"Yeah? Well I am trying to preserve water in this dry land.  Hard enough importing the stuff, at least booze is cheap," she muttered, taking another gulp, "Anyway, this is medicine for the headache."

Gran drummed his fingers on the table, "Was it really so bad?"

"It got worse after the empire began to expand; it wasn't so bad before," she admitted, wiping her mouth with her hand, "I have the wonderful goddess of desire to thank for it.  Not Volcana or her locks of red and orange, no, they had to pick on me being related to Temtra, the goddess with the darker red hair."

"You've been dreaming of the past every night; maybe it's not a coincidence." Gran began to look thoughtful, “And yes, I agree that humans have the sad tendency to see only the negative side of life.”

"Oh, what's on your mind?" Fiora asked, interested.

Gran was interrupted by two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs.  He and Fiora turned to watch Jonah enter the room with his arm wrapped around Nat.  The two were speaking softly to each other and laughing.

Gran smiled with them, "It does me happiness to see two youths so deeply in love."

"You didn't have to listen to them all night long," Fiora muttered into her mug.

Jonah leaned down and gave Nat a deep kiss as they approached the table.  He turned and winked at the two sitting figures in front of him.

"Morning Fiora, morning Gran," he greeted them cheerfully.

"Hey guys," Nat waved happily.

Fiora closed her eyes and sighed before turning to Jonah, "I spent many years seeing you fully clothed with only your head sticking out of your robe Jonah.  If you don't mind, I have no desire your see your naked chest."

Nat giggled as Jonah looked down and coughed awkwardly.

"I'll be right back," he whispered to Nat as he turned and ran back toward the stairs.  Nat plopped down into an empty chair and smiled happily at Jonah's retreating form.

"He's such a forgetful lug," she winked at Fiora, "You should think about finding one for yourself."

"Please," Fiora rolled her eyes, "My lifespan is at least double yours if not more; I think I'll stick with being single for as long as I can."

"But what about . . ."

"I didn't say anything about being alone."

Gran rolled his eyes as the two ladies laughed together.

"In all seriousness," Fiora said, all business, "Stop making such a racket all night.  It's loud and annoying to say the least."

Nat had the decency to blush, "Jonah has a lot of excess energy from his class change.  It's one of the few good things, but . . ." Nat shook her head sadly, "It's just another way of showing his life burning away . . ."

A somber mood descended on the table as the trio smoldered over the thought.

"Anyway, what were you talking about before?" Nat broke the silence.

"Dreams," Gran said simply.

"Again with the dreams?  I'm sorry to hear that," Nat sympathized, as she patted Fiora's arm, "I know it must be difficult with him . . ."

"Let's not talk about him right now," Fiora glared at Gran, who shrugged.

"Well, if the dreams continue then they may play a greater relevance.  As I was telling you before, the empire is on the move."

Fiora and Nat leaned in to listen.

"The elves in Groatland have sent word; the battle has begun in earnest on the western front.  Even now, my brethren move to support the kingdom while messengers are being sent to every city-state in Nehatra to call for reinforcements." Gran told them as a frown grew on his face, "From my understanding, it's dead-even for the moment, with each side calling for more troops."

"If that's the case, then why aren't the cities moving to assist?" Nat asked.

"The main reason is because of the cultists.  After the uncovering of the conspiracy last year, everyone has been cautious," Fiora explained, "Demons are known to be working with at least part of the empire, and their presence here means they want to destabilize this country to invade it as well.  Master Mary told me a few days ago that the empire has a decent fleet, enough to send a good number of troops to our coast for a two pronged invasion.  As such, none of the cities want to risk moving too many troops and exposing their rears."

Nat sighed, "I would have thought things would have turned out better after the invasion; but the world moves on I suppose.  Any word from the beast-men yet?"

"Nothing.  It's been 2 days, but Mary isn't worried yet.  She said something about, naps, I think?" Fiora shrugged, "I just hope they can finish the dungeon before the royal entourage gets here.  Two days is all they have left."

Gran tilted his head, "Are you sure you are going to be alright Fiora?  He's going to be there, here, for a few days."

Fiora didn't say anything for a moment, "I'm sure he's forgotten me by now.  We were young, and we only met when the two schools met.  Even then, he spent most of his time learning from tutors.  I bet he'll be too busy to even talk to me."

*********

The carriage jumped as it hit a rock.  The man inside sighed as he readjusted his pen on a document before signing it.

"Your Majesty, after signing the documents for patrols on the dungeon road, you need to read these reports on the empire's movements," his adviser informed him from across the seat.

The man sighed, "Really, I spent enough time on these documents in the palace.  Can't my brother deal with these instead?"

"You know better your Majesty, your brother is very busy right now," the adviser admonished, “Especially since you replaced him for this entourage at the last minute.  Expect this amount of paperwork and more when we reach the Dungeon Town.”

"You are right of course," the man sighed again, "Well, will there be any free time while we're in town; after I finish this paperwork of course,” he said hastily at the adviser.

The adviser thought for a moment, "There will be time, but may I ask what your Majesty has in mind?"

King James smiled softly, "Just need to visit an old friend."

*********

"ANHEL, HELLS DAMNATION ANHEL, COME BACK HERE!" Jare roared out in anger. He and William had been chasing their younger brother through the darkness of the lower floors of the slime dungeon for what felt like hours. Because Anhel was so fast, the two brothers had been forced to beast-out in order to keep up with him, sacrificing their torches for speed. As a result, Jare wasn't sure what floor they were on anymore. He was pretty sure they had gone down 2 or 3 sets of stairs however, but it wasn't clear since the floors were unfamiliar.

The two bear beast-men came to a halt in front of another hole in the ground.

William sniffed and growled softly, "Went down."

Jare growled as the scent of Anhel and the mysterious figures filled his nose. Anhel, under the stress of the dark and pain, had gone berserk and was still chasing the two figures that had slashed at them in the dark. The mystery monsters were the only enemies they had encountered in the dark; coming and going in quick strikes before retreating into the darkness. They even had hidden corridors and holes like these that led to different parts of the floor and even other floors.

"Follow them down," Jare ordered as he jumped down. William quickly followed. They landed in a torch-lit room to their surprise. The torchlight had not been visible from the top of the hole.

William pointed, "24th floor."

"Almost there; find Anhel." Jare's normal speech pattern was severely shortened when he beasted-out, making him sound like William.

The two began sniffing the area. William roared and bounded down the corridor when he smelled Anhel; Jare close on his paws.

They raced through tunnel after tunnel until they began to hear scratching. Upon entering the next room, they found Anhel crying out in anger as he tried to dig into the wall.

"Anhel, gone. Calm down," William barked at his brother.

The enraged Anhel turned and growled at Jare, his red eyes showing nothing but a desire to hunt and hurt.

"Take him down." Jare stood on his hind legs and smashed his hammer into the ground, asserting his dominance. William inclined his head before shooting forward like a cannonball. Anhel copied him, and the two collided in the middle of the room.

Snarling, they fell into a ball of claws and bites, small stones flying around the room as they struggled for dominance. William swiped his paw into Anhel's face, scratching him. Anhel responded by sinking his teeth into William's shoulder, causing him to howl in pain. Anhel then leaped into the air and smashed his back legs into William, sending him down to the floor onto his back.

Jare tore into the fight, his shoulder slamming into Anhel's belly and sending him flying off of William before he could do any real damage. Jare followed through by throwing his hammer at Anhel, which smashed into him after he hit the wall, pounding him again into the wall like a bouncy toy.

The room began glowing in light as fire morphed around Anhel's mouth and front paws. He pushed the hammer off of him and began to pace around the room. The devilish flames made his form seem less beast and more demonic. The red fur on his body sparkled in the fire light, but his scarred back remained hairless and pink.

Jare stood up and let his body recess back to its normal appearance. His naked chest, hairy in the light, stood out as he took a wrestling stance.

"Fine; if you're going to behave like a beast, then I'm going to have to take you down like one. Come at me little brother!"

Anhel responded with a blast of fire in Jare's face.

Cursing loudly, Jare leaped out of the way. Anhel moved his head so the stream of fire chased after Jare.

"IT BURNS, IT BURNS!" Jare yelled as he tried to escape the flames.  With his hand, he slapped his left shoulder, smothering the growing flames.

Anhel stopped to take a breath, and was tackled by an angry William in his normal appearance.  William wrapped his mighty arms around Anhel's neck and began to squeeze. Anhel gave a mighty roar and shook his head back and forth, trying to dislodge his assailant. William held on with all his strength.

Having escaped the fire, Jare ran up and grappled with Anhel's front legs. Anhel struggled as his mouth bit at his brothers, but, with his neck being squeezed and his legs being held, he couldn't muster up the leverage to escape their grasps.

After a minute, his struggles weakened and Anhel began to whine. Jare and William kept up the pressure, ignoring his complaints.  Eventually, Anhel's eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed, his fire going out.

Jare waited until he was sure Anhel was out before he removed his hands. Smoke rose up from his hands and arms, having been burnt by the fire on Anhel's legs. Jare winced as his arms fell uselessly to his sides.

"William, I need a health potion," Jare said calmly. William nodded and reached into Anhel's bag, taking out a potion. He poured it into Jare's mouth.

Jare winced at the taste, before sighing in relief as he felt his arms begin to tingle. "My arms are going to need time to heal after this. Why don't you guard the entrance while I wait for Anhel to recover?"

William grunted in agreement and left the room.

Jare took a seat and sighed as he leaned against the wall next to Anhel. He watched Anhel slowly regress back into his normal form.

Anhel woke up with a jolt and looked around wildly. When he got sight of Jare, Anhel calmed down.

"Did I do that?" Anhel pointed at Jare's arms. Bits of black flesh were beginning to peel off, revealing new skin.

"Not your fault," Jare responded, “William and I both understand.”

"I'm sorry," Anhel bowed his head, "I just . . . I don't like the dark."

"I know, it's alright little brother," Jare comforted Anhel, "I remember how it was when I rescued you."

They both watched the ceiling as the memories came back to them.

~~~~Flashback~~~~

A younger Jare snarled as he pulled his knife out of the soldier in front of him. The body collapsed to the ground.

"Commander, I have a scent on the abductees!" he called out.

"Understood! We'll follow your lead sergeant!" A grizzled, human commander stood in the back of the group of soldiers.

Jare led the troop through the stronghold, slaughtering enemy soldier after soldier.  Jare pointed at a large wooden door with metal handles. "There, they are in there!"

The commander waved his hand forward, and two mages launched fireballs at it. The door exploded, but stayed erect.

"Jare, do it!" The commander ordered.

Jare beasted-out and grabbed the door. With a grunt, he ripped the weakened door out of the doorway and threw it away. The lead soldiers entered the room, then recoiled and gagged as the scent engulfed them.

Jare grabbed his nose and entered the room. The human children they had been sent to find were huddled together in a cell against a wall, chained by the same linked cuffs. The soldiers were busy trying to free them.

Jare turned to inspect the other cells. Most were filled with skeletons, but a few held decaying bodies. Jare felt a tear form at the sight of the body of a bird beast-man child who had all his feathers picked.

"Damned empiric bastards! They enslave children and torture them like this, it's inhuman," Jare growled.

The commander came up and placed his hand on Jare's shoulder, "I agree with you sergeant. These bastards give humans a bad name, and I regret being related to those chaotic worshiping beasts. Er, no offense."

Jare shrugged him off, "No offense taken; even beasts wouldn't do this to children."

"Commander, we need help!" they heard someone call out. The two of them left the cell and moved swiftly down to the other end of the room. There, they found a few soldiers pointing their weapons at another cell. Inside, a red beast roared at them and swiped its claws at them.

"Commander, it's some sort of beast of Temtra!" a soldier reported.

Jare took a sniff and shook his head, "No, that's not a celestial animal, but . . . I think that's a beast child. Let me try to calm it down."

The commander nodded and waved his hand, dismissing the soldiers.  Jare walked into the room, his hands held out calmingly.

"It's alright, no one is going to hurt you anymore," Jare whispered softly.

The beast sniffed and whined before snarling again. Jare snarled back, his fur and snout growing. The beast whimpered and backed away in submission.

Jare walked over and pulled the red beast into a hug. "It's alright now; it's alright." The red beast calmed down and began to cry into Jare's arms.

They just sat there, the only sound being that of tears falling.

*********

Anhel shook his head as the memories passed on by. "The things they did to me, to the others, all to find out what made us . . .different," his mouth curled at the word, "Didn't they understand that we were beast-men, not human? Why did they focus so much on making us human . . ."

Jare took a calming breath as he released the fists he was making, "From what I understood, that stronghold was operated by the so-called 'sympathetic' branch of the empire. They wanted to 'purify the taint' that made beast-men non-human and “save us” by making us change back.  No matter how human our normal face looks, beast-men are not human. We can't even mate with a human, though we can mate with our respective animals."

The two shuddered for a moment; this beast-man secret was very unpopular; though, it did make for some interesting drunk stories.

"It's ironic then," Jare commented, "that the experiments designed to create humans actually unleashed the were’ plague. Instead of unleashing what they thought was human, they instead unleashed a horrible beast that spread its curse to everything it attacked."

Were’ was a term referencing a magical condition where a human, elf, dwarf, etc. morphed into a state similar to a beasted-out beast-man. The difference, however, was that these cursed beings lost their sanity and spread the curse through bites. Only beast-men were immune to the curse; subsequently all beast-men adventurers were tasked to hunt down all weres’.  This was why Jare and his brothers were being sent to the front-lines.

"Thirty-five years now, and the curse still persists. Not that the empire is any help," Jare reflected, "Their enslavement of weres’ and use of them on the front-line makes them a formidable threat. Any and all opponents become fodder for the horde."

Anhel stood up and brushed off his fur, "Let's stop talking about this and continue our journey big brother. I think I'm okay to travel in the dark now."

"Stairs," William called out from the tunnel. Jare and Anhel walked out and joined William at the top of the staircase.

Jare scratched his hair, "Well, at least our merry chase let us get down quickly. Let us see what the boss floor has in store for us."

~~~Imagination~~~

"Not what I was expecting at all," Jare said flatly.

The trio stood in front of a large door with three symbols on its surface. Jare glanced over at Anhel, who was reading an inscription.

"What's it say Anhel?" he asked.

"We just need to light three torches in the three rooms on this floor and the door will open," Anhel reported.

Jare turned around and pointed, "You mean those three torches located conveniently behind us?"

"I think so."

"This is easy."

"I agree."

"Trap?"

"No . . . maybe boredom?"

~~~Imagination End ~~~

Claire shook her head at Doc, “No, you can’t do that.”

"But I want the fight to happen already," Doc whined pitifully, “This plan makes it so much easier.”

Claire raised a reed from one of the plants she had grown and shook it at Doc while puffing out her cheeks, “If you really did that, then it would take out the difficulty of the entire trial!  You dummy!  They need to enter the three rooms and light the three torches to unlock the doors; you made the trial so follow-through!”

Doc’s slime body deflated, “Fine, I won’t make it easy."

“Good,” Claire nodded in approval as she giggled and plopped back onto the slime, “Now, let’s watch our cute little girls in action.”

*********

Jare waited for a moment as Anhel read through the instructions on the door.  “Well?” he asked.

Anhel turned and pointed at the three tunnels, ‘The door will open once all three torches are lit in their respective rooms.’  It says nothing else.”

Jare turned to stare at the tunnels, "Well, we'd better go light those torches. Split up?"

William shrugged, "No smell enemies, split okay."

"Alright then," Jare nodded, "Let's meet back here after we light the torches."

Chapter 8

After finding and lighting the torches the trio of beast-men, Jare, William, and Anhel, stood in front of the door.

"Is there supposed to be a lever or something big brother?" Anhel asked impatiently.

Jare shrugged, "You never know with these kinds of doors.  Every dungeon door is slightly different.  See, now something is happening."

As they looked on, the three symbols on the door began to light up one by one.  Together, the light within each symbol swirled in a clock-wise motion.  The door moaned with the sound of something moving within it, and it slowly opened.  From within the door, darkness seemed to flow out as if it were a mist, trickling along the edges of the light that filled the room outside.

"Spooky," remarked William.

The trio entered the room, the door slowly closing behind them, leaving the three in total darkness.  Jare gripped his hammer as his nose sniffed the room.

"Something's here," he whispered to his brothers.

A sound filled the room, low and hissing.  It sounded like a sinister laughter.  A torch of black light came to life behind the trio, followed by neighboring torches lighting up on both sides of it.  The torches around the room continued to brighten throughout the room, until they met back at the other side of the beast-men.  The last torch shone to life, revealing two furry figures, their mouths dripping with saliva and desire.

"Worgs!" Jare roared out, his fur bristling.  Without hesitation, or taking the time to remove his clothes, Jare burst into battle-form, quickly followed by William.  Tattered cloth falling to the floor, the two ran at the bosses, their weapons swinging backwards for the first blow.

"Spirit of the Hawk!" Anhel commanded, giving a boost to his brother's speed.  He quickly began to chant his fireball magic.

The worgs howled out in response, their spirits burning from a desire to fight.  The two hadn't fought with anyone since they had moved down to the 25th floor, and they thirsted for blood.

"Sister, let's feast on their flesh and gnaw on their bones!" Ayla cried out through their mind link.

"We shall win, for our family and bones to gnaw on!" Aisha agreed.  The two split and ran toward Jare and William.

Growling, Jare leaped into the air, his hammer raised above his head.  The warg in front of him rolled out of the way as his hammer smashed a hole in the ground.  The warg recovered and pounced on Jare, its teeth biting and tearing his arm.  Jare roared in pain as he grabbed the warg's head and ripped it away from his arm, throwing it at the wall.  Jare winced as he gripped his arm, waiting for the natural regeneration to begin.

Meanwhile, William dashed up with his dagger swords and whipped them in the air.  The wind slashes he created dashed ahead at his warg opponent, seeking to dismember it.  The warg howled as it sped up, leaping in every direction as it dodged the slashes.  William spun his body as he met the warg in the air, initiating a hurricane effect with his blades.  The warg cried out in pain as it met steel and wind head on, and it fell to the floor in a bloody pool.

William landed, his head dizzy from all the spinning.  In his confused state, he didn't notice the second warg, its eyes red in fury, dash up behind him and open its jaws to seize his neck.

A fireball slammed into the warg, sending it barreling into the ground.  William held a thumbs up to Anhel, who grinned in response.  Meanwhile, the burned warg got up and growled at the two, just in time to be hit dead-on by Jare's hammer and sent crashing into the wall.  It coughed up blood and slid down the wall to the floor.

Jare frowned as he placed the hammer on his shoulder, "That hurt.  You okay William?"

"Fine," William responded.

Jare watched as the two warg bodies faded into shadow, "I guess that was somewhat difficult . . . certainly not as strong as the undead dungeon boss.  Not stronger than the overslime either."

"You think this boss has another form?" Anhel asked from the back.

"I . . . AH!" Jare cried out as a dagger burst forth from his chest.

"BIG BROTHER!" Anhel howled in shock.  Jare whirled around, but the figure had already disappeared into his shadow.  Jere fell to the ground as his hand covered his chest, blood seeping down through his finger.

He coughed, "It got my lung; this will take time to heal.  Brothers, look out for the shadows!"

Around the room, the torches burned out, leaving only two torches located on opposite sides of the room.  Anhel ran forward and placed his hands on Jare, chanting a healing spell.  William closed his eyes and took a stance where he stood.

"I can stop the bleeding here big brother, but your lung will still fill with blood until you can recover on your own," Anhel whispered.

Jare coughed up some blood, "That's fine.  Hurry up; they are coming."

Anhel nodded as his hands glowed in green light.  The wound closed up, and Jare stood.  Jere swayed a bit before getting comfortable, his hammer at the ready.  Reluctantly, his fur receded, as he needed his energy to focus on healing.

From under the two torches, two figures appeared.  They stood shorter than the beast-men, but taller than a normal human.  They both wore dark cloaks over their faces, and only blackness could be seen where their faces were supposed to be.  As one, they raised a dagger in each hand crossed their arms over their necks, daggers pointing out behind their heads.

Whispers filled the room, faint voices that even the beast-men were unable to hear well with their superior senses.  Anhel held his book close with his other hand over it, William kept his stance with his eyes closed, and Jare tightened his grip on the hammer.

Then, the whispers stopped.

"...  ...  ..."

"... ... ..."

"..."

"d. . . i. . . e."

The figures vanished.  Jare grabbed Anhel and jumped, two daggers slicing up from their shadows.  William whirled around and countered the blow from the other figure, who also appeared in his shadow.

The boss fighting William twirled its daggers and began to exchange blows with William.  Metal clashed and sparks flew as they attacked relentlessly.  William didn't have time to create his wind blasts; he was too busy fighting back to go on the offensive.  The figure spun around, causing one of his thrusts to go wide as it slashed his arm.  William didn't even twitch as his other arm whipped around his back in his own spin pummeling the figure in the head.  It staggered before they resumed their confrontation.

On the other side of the room, Anhel stuck close to Jare's left side.  He summoned balls of fire to throw at the hooded boss whenever it appeared.  Coughing up a little blood, Jare was forced into a defensive posture, his hammer being used now as a make-shift shield.  Anhel threw another fireball at the boss, making it dive back into the shadow.

"Big brother, I'm running out of fireballs for the day," Anhel said as he glanced at the remaining balls of fire in the air, "I don't think we'll be able to hold that thing back when I run out."

Jare used his hammer to push away the boss' sudden attack, sending it into the air, "Don't you have any other spells little brother?  I know I've asked you this before but . . ."

Anhel shook his head apologetically, "Sorry Jare, but fire is the only spell I picked up from human wizardry; everything else I can cast is learnt from the beast-men shamans.  Summoning spirits to fight is on a higher level than what I can cast right now."

Jare winced as a dagger sliced a cut on his right arm, "Then, can you summon something bigger than a fireball?  We need some light."

"Light," Anhel whispered to himself, "Light, light, oh right!"  He raised his hand into the air, "Spirit of the sun!"

The remaining fireballs flew into the air.  Reaching the top, they smashed into each other and exploded out into a bright light that filled the room.  The two hooded bosses shrieked in pain and dove into the rapidly fading shadows.  The adventurers relaxed as the light filled them with warmth.

"This respite won't last long," Anhel warned, "The sun spirit is for plant use on cloudy days, and for it to last longer than a few minutes I would need regents I don't have on me."

Jare scratched his new scar as he thought to himself.  "Hey Anhel," he said, "How do you feel about the dark again?"

Anhel cocked his head to the side, "Uh, where are you leading with this big bro?"

"William," Jare called out, "Extinguish the torches!”

William's eyes glittered in understanding, and his blades whipped around a strong wind blast that destroyed all the torches in the room.

"Jare, what are doing?" Anhel shrieked as he watched the torches become torn to pieces, "Those are the only sources of light we have!  I don't have any more torches in my bag!"

"Exactly," Jare said with confidence, "This boss is one of shadow, not darkness.  The two of them need light to create the shadows they move through.  In a world of darkness, they are trapped with us."

"But I still hate the dark." Anhel whispered, the sunlight above beginning to disappear.

"I know." Jare said with an apologetic smile, "Anhel, make them as scared of you in dark as you are of them."  With that, the light vanished in the room, leaving only Anhel's breathing.

"Jare, big brother, where are you?" Anhel whispered, his feeling of terror growing, "William, are you there?"

In the darkness, nothing moved.

Anhel began to rub his arms, "Okay guys, this isn't a good plan.  I think I can cast another fireball . . ."

Something smashed the ground in front of him, sending Anhel screaming in retreat.

"No, no, no, not again!" Anhel panicked, his arms beginning to grow their fur, "You won't get me again! Me and big bros will . . ."

He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and the air move as something moved next to his head.  A voice whispered.

"Burn them little fire beast scum.  Burn them all, or you will burn." The voice out of the past turned Anhel’s eyes red.

Jare was standing with William over on the other side of the room.  "You think Anhel will be able to beast-out properly this time William?"

William shrugged his hands, "Maybe."

An explosion of fire blasted across the room, forcing Jare and William to dive to the floor and cover their heads.

"Crap, he went feral," Jare sighed

"Duh," William deadpanned.

The fire-red beast that was Anhel howled in anger as its form changed.  Unlike Jare and William, Anhel's beast ancestor was longer and more lithe, often mistaken for a dog or raccoon.  This trend continued in the descendants; becoming long beasts with a large fire rimmed tail.  Like before, fire burst forth on either side of his mouth and his front legs.  This time, however, his naked back exploded in flame, as if he held some great spine on his back like a lizard.  The white markings on his fur expelled fire all along his body, and there were no shadows near him.

Jare couldn't help but admire his younger sibling, "If I say once I'll say it again William; those chosen by the gods sure are blessed."

William grunted, "Not so fun."

"Now just because you have issues being a chosen doesn’t mean everyone does." Jare wagged his finger at William, "Anhel's a descendent of the holy beast of Volcana; it's in his blood.  You just got chosen, so appreciate it more."

William rolled his eyes, "Don't like southern plains."

"Whatever little bro; for now let's stay out of Anhel's way.  He seems a bit . . . fired up."

William smacked Jare for the bad pun.

Anhel roared a challenge, and the two hooded figures appeared in front of him in response.  Though their faces couldn't be seen, a few bits of saliva seemed to be dripping down onto their cloaks from the darkness of the hood.  They twirled their daggers, and rushed together toward Anhel.  Anhel stood staunchly before charging at them as well.

Meeting in the middle of the room, the two leaped to either side of Anhel and thrust out with their blades.  Anhel shot his flames out in response, sending them tumbling back into the shadow, where they vanished.  They reappeared above, the daggers raised above their heads swooping down as they fell.  Anhel leaped forward, his head turning to breathe fire at them.  One vanished back into the shadow while the other slashed its dagger through the fire.  A tangible shadow cut the flame apart, and it dashed forward toward Anhel.  As Anhel turned to meet his foe, the twin ran in from behind him.

Anhel roared out, spit dripping down his mouth.  The flames of his body responded, burning bright and hot as they exploded out from him.  The two bosses were sent flying into the walls where they slammed hard enough to break bones.

Jare winced, "Ouch; not once but twice into the walls this fight."

Anhel dashed toward the twin in front of him.  The boss weakly raised its daggers in his direction.  Snarling, Anhel used his great paw to swipe the daggers away.  They clattered against the floor as they slide away.  Anhel raised his mouth, his teeth wide open in preparation for the final bite, when a dagger sunk into his butt.

The room exploded once more in fire as Anhel cried out in pain, running around with a dagger of darkness buried deep in his behind.  No matter how much his mouth turned to bite or he rolled along the floor, he couldn't get the dagger out.

Jare and William both rubbed their bottoms sympathetically.

"The one weakness of the beasted-out form," Jare acknowledged, "is that our arms can't reach around to pull out things stuck in our backs.  We have to change back into our normal forms for our muscles to be able to move in that way."

Seeing that he was having no luck, Anhel turned his malevolent gaze on the twin boss who had thrown the dagger.  It raised its middle claw at him.

Anhel raced toward his fallen prey, his eyes gleaming with returning intelligence.  When he reached the boss, he grabbed the dagger out of its hand with his mouth.  Sadistic pleasure dancing in his eyes, he used his hand to knock the boss over.  A swipe of the head, and the dagger went into the cloak, right in the butt.

The dungeon itself seemed to roar in anger.  With a mournful cry, the twin bosses dissolved into white light and entered the floor.  The room lit up, revealing a battle worn Jare and William, both somewhat burnt.  Anhel wagged his tail at the sight of them.

Jare wiped the blood off his mouth, "Nice to see you finally learned to keep your head with your body.  Good job Anhel."

Anhel barked happily and, forgetting his wound, sat down on the dagger, the only thing in the room that had not disappeared.  As one might expect, the pain caused him to fly upward into the ceiling.  Anhel crashed awkwardly onto the floor, to the delight of his laughing brothers.

Chapter 9

After beating the twin bosses, the trio of beast-men used their escape charm to return to the surface.  The spoils of the last boss fight: a dagger of shadow that held the essence of humiliation.  When they appeared at the entrance to the dungeon, they were met with cheers and celebration.

Anhel and William stayed with the growing crowd of admirers while Jare went to the Adventurer Guild office.  There, he found a healthier Mary at her desk working.  He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I thought you had a few more weeks of healing?" he asked her.

"Work came up; I'm using healing charms to keep me stable," she explained, "Not that I'm allowed to move around at all.  Don't be fooled; this desk is as bad as the bed."

Ally and Bella nodded as they kept watch of their guild-master from across the room.

Jare chuckled, "Well, whatever works for you my lady.  I'm here to report the successful dive and conquering of the slime dungeon.  Here are the reports." He handed over a small stack of papers to Mary.

Mary glanced at the top few sheets, "Anhel's hand-writing is getting better I see." She ignored Jare's coughing as she continued, "I'll look over this in better detail later.  For now, let's get the award ceremony prepared for you and your brothers."

Jare shook his head, "Actually, we brothers need to be heading off soon.  Our mission was to verify the dungeon wasn't a threat and to report its conditions.  Fighting an undead dungeon and completing the advancement test were nice distractions, but we really need to be returning to the war front.  That old coot Falcon left quite a while ago, after the party I believe, and it won't do to be here having fun when our brothers are still in the fight."

Mary smiled sadly as she nodded in understanding, "Your troop is in Groatland right?  The reports state war just started a few days ago."

"All the more reason to go," Jare turned worried as he heard the news, "I think Polaris is leaving today and heading back to border.  We'll hitch a ride with him.  Thank you for all your help Master Mary."

"No, thank you and your brothers for helping to save our town." Mary bowed her head to him, "Without your strength, we would all have died to the tomb.  I wish you safe travels."

She waved at Ally, who brought forth a parchment and three new badges.  "Here is the certificate of advancement and new adventurer identities for you three.  I wish you well in the war effort."

Mary snapped her fingers suddenly, “Oh, I almost forgot.  While Magus Falcon had to leave us without a proper good-bye, he did leave you this letter.”

“Thank-you,” Jare smiled at Mary and shook her hand, "It's been a pleasure."  With that, he got up and left the room, nodding at Ally and Bella.

"Master Mary, are you sure you can't convince them to stay?" Bella asked sadly as the door shut.  She had been the receptionist closest to the beast-man trio and would miss them the most.

Mary shook her head, "No, they were always meant to be temporary adventurers here.  Our little town may be growing, but we lack the challenges they need to advance their skills.  The dungeon may have provided that, except now that they are familiar with the bosses they would undoubtedly make better preparations ahead of the fights.  Besides, they are part of the beast-man tribe war delegation against the empire.  They would never leave their brothers in arms to fight without them."

"For all greetings, there will always be a good-bye."

~~~Later that Day~~~

Jare sat on the back of the wagon as Polaris rolled his caravan away from the dungeon town.  Polaris glanced back at the beast-man.

"I'll be returning here eventually, so I'll keep you informed as best I can about their well-being."

"Thanks," Jare nodded in gratitude.

They waited as the horses began to pick up speed before continuing the talk; one out of concentration and the other out of patience.

"Do you regret leaving?" Polaris asked.

"They were nice people, for humans and elves anyway," Jare admitted, "One of the few towns that didn't throw stones at us for having fur."

"It's a big world out there; even in all my travels as a merchant I've never seen it all," Polaris admitted, "All it takes is one idea to take root, and a tree of cultures will spawn out."

"Stop quoting your merchandise," Jare scolded, "I thought Philosopher scrolls were expensive."

Polaris shrugged, "Expensive out here, but in the country of philosophy they are a copper a dozen.  A story for another time though." He looked back at the fading town, "I guess with you leaving, the slime dungeon is out of secrets then.  Looks like the town will slow down soon."

"You think so?" Jar wondered, "Actually, I think . . ."

They balanced themselves as the earth rumbled.  Polaris and the other horse drivers took a moment to calm the horses.

Jare grinned as he looked back to the town, the forest, and the little hill in the plains where an entrance stood, "I think the dungeon is just getting started showing us what it has in store."

Suddenly remembering, Jare pulled out the letter from the Magus and read it.  He frowned as his eyes scanned through it, and his face twitched when he finished.

“That old son . . .” Jare muttered angrily, “Why does he need such expensive booze?  I’m tired of working for this no good . . .”

William and Anhel laughed as the carriage disappeared into the distance.

Chapter 10

Doc looked on awkwardly as Claire instructed Anadine through removing the dagger from Ayla's left buttocks.  Ironically, because the dagger was stuck in her body before her death, its physical form kept with her spirit until her body reformed.  It then lodged back in its original spot.  Aisha looked on in worry in her normal warg form, which Ayla couldn't change into without causing more damage.  Even if she died again, the dagger would keep appearing until removed.

"Alright Anadine, now slowly work your slime around the edge of the dagger so it doesn't cut her more on the way out," Claire directed with her hand.  Anadine nodded in understanding as her tentacle shrunk around the dagger handle and traveled into the wound.  Aisha moaned in pain as the cool slime flowed into her body.

"It hurts," she whimpered, "Even dying doesn't hurt this much.  The slime feels funny too."

"It'll be okay sister," Ayla comforted Aisha with her snout, "It'll be out soon."

"It's done now actually," Anadine commented, holding the dagger in her hand, "Did I do good master?"

"You did good Ana," Doc agreed, "you did good."

The twins stared at the dagger in surprise.  "That was fast; I didn't even feel it."

Claire flew over and smiled in triumph, "Don't underestimate my knowledge daughters!  Slime is actually quite cool at room heat, and it can take any form with the right level of control.  It's the perfect thing for injuries and relaxation.  That's why I have a personal slime for sitting and sleeping."

Doc's normal slime body jiggled in response.

Doc sighed as he willed the dagger back into his astral bag, "Well, that was an interesting battle.  How did you girls enjoy your first boss fight as the 25th floor boss?"

The twins stared at Doc.  Doc stared back at them.

"I got stabbed in the butt," Aisha dead-panned to her adopted father.

"How was the fight though; I know what happened, I just want to hear how you girls felt about it." Doc smiled happily at them.  Claire, who was listening, smacked her head and sighed over how dull her partner was.

"I . . . GOT . . . STABBED . . . IN . . . THE . . . BUTT," Aisha said slowly and deliberately.

"So," Doc scratched his slime body, "It didn't go well?"

*********

After Anadine and Ayla pulled Aisha off Doc's slime body, everyone took a moment to calm down. Doc, who had wisely fled his slime body when Aisha pounced on him, coughed awkwardly.

"Uh, I think that was my bad; I'm sorry my daughters.  What I meant to ask was: what was your impression of the battle up to the point where you were, uh, struck."

The twins took on their warg forms and wagged their tails in thought.  "Well Poppa, it was very different from when we were the second floor boss.  Unlike then, we could move much faster and we could smell them better too.  We think having no slimes on the dark floors is silly, but being able to harass is enjoyable.  The second half of the boss fight was our first time fighting in that form against living adventurers.  Our heritage as magic beasts allowed us to hide in the shadows they cast in the light, but we couldn't hide in the darkness for some reason."

"I can explain that," Claire spoke up as she zoomed onto Aisha's head, "Worgs have an innate gift with shadows, though only a few ever display the gift.  Shadow magic is a type of darkness magic, though they are mutually exclusive.  Contrary to what many believe, darkness is not the opposite of light because darkness came before light; it is fundamentally different.  Shadows, on the other hand, are an absence of light and revelation of the ever present darkness in an area; thus when you girls used the shadows you became shadows and turned yourselves invisible and intangible.  To say it simply, you girls can become shadows under the right conditions.  Your ability requires light, so when the beast-men destroyed the torches you both lost the ability to avoid blows.  ."

Doc made his tentacle run over his crystal in thought.

"The hardest part of the fight was definitely when that beast-man adventurer changed forms.  That fire was scary and painful Poppa.  He was very different from the other beast-men."

Everyone looked up at Claire for an explanation.  Claire shrugged in response, "I only know about things related to dungeons.  Dungeon pixies don't pay too much attention to the sentient races or their special abilities beyond that which can threaten the dungeon."

"Doesn't a flaming monster constitute a threat Miss Claire?" Anadine pointed out.

"Well yes, but I never learned that was possible," Claire admitted, "He's likely of some rare lineage of magic beast, maybe even one of celestial or infernal origin.  I doubt we'll ever figure it out without his body."

Everyone gave a collective shrug.  They were a well-connected group.

"Well, I think that's a wonderful end to phase one, right Doc?" Claire asked.

They all turned to look at Doc, who was juggling the two monster cores with his tentacles.  As they gave him a confused look, Doc opened his slime mouth and devoured the two cores.

"Doc, what are you doing?" Claire asked.

"Your explanation on the difference between shadows and darkness gave me an idea," Doc explained, "I think I got it this time."

As if agreeing with him, the two monster cores began to glow and resonate within the slime.  Doc and his family felt the heart-room begin to shake.

"Uh oh," said Doc.

*********

"Hamish, I've filled my bag with iron," Jonah announced from his corner, "I'm off to turn them in."

"Wait for me boyo, I'm done too," Hamish called out as he hurried over from his own corner.

“I think today has been a good day for . . .” Jonah paused as the ground shook beneath their feet.  The shaking only lasted for a few moments before fading away, but it was enough to make the two friends look at each other with raised eyebrows.

“I think the tavern is calling our name for the day,” Jonah declared.

Hamish nodded in agreement, “Right, let’s not take any chances.  We’ll turn in the iron in town for a higher price than the merchants give us in the dungeon and enjoy a well-deserved meal.  No need to stay in a vibrating dungeon.”

*********

Mary was signing the forms for accommodations for the soon to be arriving royalty when she felt the ground shake.

She let loose a string of curses as her pen slipped and ruined the paperwork she had been working on.

“Ally, bring me a water page before the ink dries!  I’m not doing all this over again!”

*********

Doc slowly looked around the room.  “Was that my fault?”

No one immediately answered him, mostly because everyone else was plastered to the wall, covered in slime.  For an unknown reason Doc didn’t know, when he successfully absorbed the monster cores the slime body he was using exploded out in a spray of slime.  Also, it died.

Anadine turned fluid and escaped her prison first, reforming on the floor.

“My lord,” she said in wonder, “Your magnificence overwhelms me yet again.  I was thoroughly covered by your essence, so much so that I believe it may take days to completely be clean again.”

“Poppa, we got dirty,” the twins complained in Doc’s mind, “Our fur is covered in yucky slime.”

“Just reform your bodies,” Doc advised them.

The twins paused as their old bodies turned back into mana and flowed through the slime on to the floor.  They reformed below Doc’s crystal, slime free.

“The floor is yucky.”

“I’ll clean it later,” Doc promised.  Then, the four of them turned to look at the last occupant in the room.

Claire, spread eagle, was completely covered in slime and stuck to the wall.  Only her eyes were visible, and they seemed to literally be glowing in fire.

“Doc,” she said slowly, “You and I are going to have a long talk about this during your punishment, which I can promise you will be very, very long.”

Doc quivered in fear.

Chapter 11

After Doc and Anadine carefully removed her from the wall, Claire flew calmly into her house and shut the door gently behind her.  Her face held no emotion as she disappeared inside.  The four in the heart-room listened to her humming a song to herself as she summoned water for her bath.

Doc couldn’t remember a time he felt more terrified.

“Master,” Anadine spoke up to him, “if I may be so bold, why are you scared of Miss Claire?  You are a great and mighty dungeon who kills sentient beings on a fairly consistent basis.  She is a tiny pixie with limited control over the dungeon and cannot harm you due to your bond.”

“Well,” Doc began slowly, aware that Claire was likely listening to him, “As you know, the bond between Claire and I does not allow either of us to harm the other.”

“Yes my lord, so why . . .” Anadine pressed.

“Because I live with her,” Doc revealed, “and I will likely live with her for the rest of my existence.  Dungeon pixies have lived with dungeons for generations, most of which try to kill the pixies on first sight.  It would be foolish to believe they haven’t thought of any counter-measures to keep a dungeon in line even without using physical punishment.”

“It’s true,” Claire admitted through their bond, “The best example is that a dungeon pixie can trick the church into believing their dungeon is corrupt in an effort to commit suicide.  Pixies also can change some of the involuntary functions of the dungeon the spirit is usually not aware of.  I know of one story where a pixie made their dungeon smell so bad the surrounding area was abandoned.  That dungeon is still trying to complete its first floor I believe.”

Anadine snapped her mouth shut and began to polish Doc’s crystal with special concentration.

“So Doc, what did you learn?” Claire asked him calmly from her bath.

“Monster cores explode,” he ventured.

“Devouring two opposing forces result in an explosion if done at the same time,” she clarified to him, “The two cores acted against each other as their power flowed into you; the light pushed the darkness and the darkness pushed back.”

Her voice changed from her current calm tone to her teaching tone, “Elements tend to work together and against each other in nature, depending on context.  For instance, water will stop a fire but enough fire will heat water into steam.  Some wind will make a fire stronger, but too much wind will destroy the fire.  Darkness and light have their own relationship too: too much light will eliminate darkness and too much darkness will swallow light.  Of course, these two elements are more abstract than the other elements and so work in ways even we magical creatures don’t quite understand yet.  Point being: your soul is neutral and both cores were trying to influence your slime at the same time.  The slime couldn’t take the conflict and exploded.”

“Momma, why is Poppa’s soul important here?” The Twins spoke up in question.

“Because while the elements are neutral forces, the wielders of said powers tend to fight each other and thus take opposing stances on things; light tends to be used more by selfless people and dark tends to be used by selfish people,” Claire answered, “I’m fairly certain that the light core came from a unicorn relative and the dark core came from a shadow tiger relative.  Those two monsters are rivals for territories and unicorns help others while shadow tigers eat others.  No, don’t focus on ‘shadow’; that’s a human name from their limited understanding.”

The twins rolled on the ground in confusion while Anadine and Doc struggled to understand what Claire was telling them.

“The two cores were bullies who still fight each other even in death,” Claire summarized.

“Okay, that makes sense.”

Claire’s exasperated sigh filled their minds, followed by her normal giggle, “You sillies wouldn’t get anywhere without me.  I’m barely an adult and I already have so many children to watch.  Mommy would be proud of me, I guess.”

“We are proud of you too,” all four chorused together.

Claire couldn’t help but giggle again, this time out loud, “Fine, but you owe me a new chair Doc.  I’ll decide your punishment later.” Claire paused for a moment, “Never mind, you never know what you are doing, but I still care for you.”

“Thanks dear.”

“Stop it.”

*********

After Claire finished her long bath, which took half a day to remove the solidified slime from her hair, she and Doc stared down at the shards of dungeon crystal they had gotten from the Tomb of the Undead King.

“It’s time to grow again,” Doc announced happily.

Claire nodded, but she looked worried, “Doc, I haven’t mentioned this before, but there are risks with devouring another dungeon’s heart crystal even if they are just fragments.”

“Like what?” Doc asked.

“As you know, heart crystals are the sum of the dungeon’s magic power and spirit.  Each shard will hold a piece of the dungeon’s soul in it, which could maybe hurt you.  Mommy told me side effects can range from personality shifts to outright possession.  I think you should eat something with the shards to make the devouring easier.”

Having said that, Claire flew into her house and came back with the jar of fairy light she had retrieved from the tree ceremony in town.  She placed the bottle on the floor next to the shards.

“Claire, that bottle is larger than you,” Doc pointed out to her.

Claire rolled her eyes, “I already showed you in the past I can grow to the size of your crystal.  My physical strength is proportional to my original size; how else could I fly with this and a stolen bottle of booze?”

“We need to drink that later,” Doc reminded her, “Even though I can’t drink.”

“Agreed, but let’s focus on the task at hand,” Claire pointed at the bottle of fairy light, “Absorb the light with the shards.  Fairy light is a powerful substance that dissolves in sunlight, and taking it will recover a person’s spirit and mental fortitude.  It will make sure you don’t succumb to any memories that aren’t yours.”

“Okay; thanks for the help Claire,” he said.

Claire blushed and smiled up at him, “You silly Doc; like you said earlier we are together to the end.  I might as well make sure you are as strong as possible so I can live for a long time too.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” he teased her, “I know what you really mean.”

Taking a fictional deep breath, Doc opened his mana to the shards and the light.  The two dissolved into purple lights, and flew up into his crystal body.

“I . . . feel funny,” Doc muttered as his spirit lurched like he had eaten something bad.

“Be strong Doc; you can do it!” Claire cheered, but her voice sounded so far away.  So far away, and he was gone.

*********

I'm walking through a strange land, Doc sensed.  All around me there are moving images of things I have never seen before.  I see tall plants, humans, and strange places.  The road I walk takes me through all of them.

The path is long, but I manage to walk past everything without understanding anything.  Should I feel accomplished?  The strangest thing is that I feel like I should recognize everything.

Especially, that one human, that girl that seems to flit on the edge of every image.

The path is ending now; the images are different.  One side blue, the other side red, they seem to be warring with each other.  It feels kind of silly to be honest since I seem to be purple on the inside.  As I walk by, the two sides appear to become subdued and join back together in harmony.

I reach the end of the path; someone is there waiting for me.  He is sitting with his face resting on his arm which is on his knee while the other arm is on the floor.  Strange human; he doesn't seem to be wearing any clothes.

"Who are you?" I ask the strange human.

He raises his head, his eyes are colored a sparkling purple.  He grins with a strange smile.

"Why, I am you of course."

And everything goes to black.

*********

Doc blinked as the memory of his journey came back to him.  He turned his head to gaze at the strange landscape around him.

“I have a head,” he wondered to himself as he stared down.  While indistinct and blurry, he was currently not a crystal body.  He had hands, or at least something he could use to pick things up.  They constantly morphed and changed before his eyes, almost as if his body was an illusion.

<MAKE US WHOLE,> Doc heard in his head.  He turned to see the strange naked human sitting on the path again.  There were two this time: a red human and a blue human.  They looked identical except for the color.

“Who are you?” Doc asked them.  As he asked, two new figures appeared next to the red and blue humans.  They were green and yellow.

<MAKE US WHOLE >

<We are you, but you are not us.  We shall wait, for we are waiting to be made whole.>

<MAKE US WHOLE>

Doc’s world returned to black, and he heard one last thing.

“We shall be free.”

*********

Doc blinked as he came to with a worried looking Claire staring at him.  She hovered in front of his crystal, darting back and forth as if to try to catch his attention.

“Doc, are you alright?  You disappeared again, like before,” Claire asked him with concern.

Doc thought to himself, but drew a blank.  “I don’t remember, but I feel stronger.  Anything strange happen?”

Claire nodded and pointed at his crystal, “You have two new colors: green and yellow.  It is very strange to look at, but now they are hiding under your purple color.”

Sure enough, when Doc checked his crystal, he could see the faint colors of yellow and green beneath his normal color.  The red and blue colors had left their former positions and moved in with the new colors.  It was as if his crystal had gained inner layers.

“I guess I’m on a path to becoming a rainbow dungeon core,” he said jokingly.

Claire reluctantly nodded, “Well, as long as it’s not hurting you, I guess there’s nothing we can do.  Let’s . . .”

She was interrupted by a loud and sudden crack that filled the room.  Doc and Claire’s attention shot over to the cocoon in the corner.  A crack had appeared at the top, and it was moving down in short bursts.

“Doc, it’s happening!  The child is coming!” Claire shrieked in surprise.

“GAH!  What do I do, what do I do?  Water, do we need water or a human doctor or . . .”

“Stop panicking, you’ll scare him!” Claire cried out to Doc, her voice failing to hide her own panic.

As the two ran around the room like slimes with their cores being stolen, the cocoon fell apart and something rolled out.  Doc and Claire watched as a young boy, human-looking of about 10 years, brushed himself off and stood up.  His glowing, grey eyes stared up at the two frozen dungeon monsters.

Chapter 12

“Where is my father?”

“I think I killed him,” Doc admitted.

The boy bunched his face in confusion, “What?”

Before Doc could answer, Claire cut him off and flew around the boy at high speed.  He followed her with his eyes and was forced to sit after becoming dizzy.

“Doc, look!  He’s so cute!” Claire declared in excitement as she paused to pinch the boy’s cheek.  He winced, but didn’t dissuade her.

“Claire, you’re scaring him I think,” Doc told her.  Claire, blushing slightly, returned to Doc’s crystal and hovered next to it.

The boy stared around the room before settling his eyes on Doc’s crystal body.  “You killed my father?” he asked.

“I think I did, or at least helped him die,” Doc agreed without thinking.

Claire gasped in horror, “Oh no, we killed his father!  Doc, that’s a bad thing!”

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized to the boy.

The boy began to teared up as he appeared to be struggling to hold back his tears.  “Did . . . (sniff) . . . did he hurt?”

Claire shook her head, “No, he was smiling.  He asked us to take care of you and said he loved you.”

“Did he say that?” Doc asked mentally to Claire.

“I don’t remember, but that sounds like something my Mommy would have said,” Claire replied.

The little boy wiped away his tears and stood tall.  With a trembling lip, he bowed to Doc and Claire.  “Thank you for saving father.  As the son of the king I, Prince Rowen, will repay this honor.”

Doc coughed a moment, resetting the mood in the room before speaking.  “Uh hum, anyway, my name is Doc and this is my pixie partner Claire.  Before we continue, uh, I’d like to know why you, a sentient being, is able to talk to me directly in my mind.”  Indeed, Rowen had been speaking telepathically ever since he had woken.

Rowen scratched his chin thoughtfully, “Well Sir Doc, I can’t speak.  I remember my neck was hurt when my father fled.  I don’t remember that much though; it feels like I had a long nap.”

Claire flew down to Rowen and landed on his head.  She stared down at him in surprise.

“You smell like my Mommy’s home.  Are you an undead?”

“I’m a prince!” Rowen argued.

“Are you an undead prince?” Claire asked.

Rowen teared up, “No, I’m a human.  Right, sir Doc?”

Doc stared at Claire, “Why does Rowen seem like a monster?”

Rowen and Claire dropped their heads to look at Rowen’s chest.  Of the bit of chest that was visible, the skin was much paler than his face or arms.  Claire gasped in amazement.

“He’s changed Doc,” she explained, “I think it’s because Rowen slept in the undead dungeon for hundreds of years as a young child, the most vulnerable age to magic.  He became like his father, an undead.  One of his new abilities is the ability to mind-talk.”

Doc quickly looked at the young boy, “I don’t see any obvious signs of a monster core besides his chest.”

Claire tilted her head for a moment, “Oh right, I never taught you how to see magic.” She began to mutter to herself, “Um, let’s see you don’t have eyes so, uh, focus your magic in front of whatever it is you use to see.  You should be able to see the levels of mana all around you.  Oh, and be sure to adjust it so you don’t blind yourself; we are in a dungeon after all.” Claire gave Doc a wink.

Chuckling, Doc did as Claire directed, and blinked in surprise as an endless ocean of purple appeared before his vision.  Wincing at the high levels of purple, Doc adjusted the magic until he could clearly see both the room and its occupants.  Claire’s body was oddly green and brown at the center, but was covered in strands of purple that flowed out of her to both Doc’s crystal and the dungeon.  Looking over at Rowen, Doc found the boy was completely grey, with a round object at his center controlling the moving colors across his body.”

“He’s gray,” Doc pointed out.

“Right,” Claire agreed, “See there Doc, that round part is the monster core; something that a normal sentient being should not have.  It’s right below his heart.”

Rowen cleared his throat as a small blush crept up his face, “Excuse me, but your staring is making me feel a bit uncomfortable.”

“Right, sorry,” Claire and Doc apologized as they disabled their magic.

“So what is he?” Doc asked Claire.

Claire tapped her chin in thought, “Well, I think he’s both human and undead.  It reminds me of one of the curses Mommy’s dungeon monsters can do.  The curse slowly kills the thing it is cast on, and then when it dies it comes back as an undead.   Rowen seems to be living with the curse, but he’ll likely come back as an undead if he dies.”

Claire tapped her lip in curiosity, “So, what do you want to do Rowen?  You aren’t part of the dungeon officially so you could leave if you want to.  We did promise your father to take care of you, but I’ll be the first to admit Doc and I have no idea how to take care of a human child.  We also don’t have any sources of food here, just to let you know.”

Rowen bowed his head in thought, “My family is dead, and from your words have been dead for a long time.  I don’t have a home to return to.”

“I have an idea,” Doc spoke up, “Why not live here with us until you feel like you have a good grasp of your abilities?”

Taking a deep, calming breath, Rowen stared resolutely up into Doc’s crystal.  “I don’t remember much of what happened after I was hurt, but I know my kingly father was hurting for a long time.  I was raised to be the crown prince, and I’ve learned enough to know about royal honor!  In order to preserve the memory of my royal line, I pledge myself to my family’s savior!”

Rowen’s body shone as he made the pledge, and his body shook as the monster core within him dissolved into magic and flew into Doc’s crystal.  Doc shuddered mentally as he felt the addition of a new mind enter into the dungeon mental bond.

However, Rowen’s body did not dissolve into light.  Rather, he was left standing with a surprised expression on his face.

“I don’t feel any different,” he said to Claire and Doc through their bond, “Wait, I can feel you both in my head now.”

“Greetings little brother,” The Twins chorused to him.

Rowen jumped in shock, “I hear other people!”

“We aren’t people, we are worgs,” they corrected him swiftly; “We are your new big sisters!”

After getting a confirming nod from Claire, Rowen said politely, “Big sisters, hello.”

“I greet you Sir Rowen,” Anadine said rising from the ground in front of him, “I am Anadine, a humble servant and soldier for our lord Doc.”

Rowen jumped again, but recovered swiftly and bowed to her, “Hello.”

“Alright now, everyone settle down,” Doc declared, “We have an important issue at hand here; Rowen, why do you still have a body?”

Everyone turned to look at Rowen.  Unlike the twins and their mother, Rowen’s physical body was completely intact, which wasn’t that unusual except his body was completely original.  It had no connection to Doc as it was not formed from his mana.

“Claire, do you have an explanation?” Doc asked.

Claire wrinkled her brow, “I think because he was both undead and human, you only absorbed the undead half, leaving his human body behind.  He’s still one of your unique monsters Doc, except he’s also his own person.”

“Excuse me,” Rowen raised his hand, “Does that mean I can leave the dungeon?”

Everyone blinked.

“Um, yes,” Claire said slowly, “Even though your core is part of Doc’s dungeon, you still have your own soul in your body to keep it intact; just like me.  If you only had a core, then you would be like the twins and be trapped here.  Anadine has her own situation, but she is special in a different way, I think.”

“However,” Claire grinned at Rowen, “Unlike me, if you die outside the dungeon, your soul will travel back to the dungeon and reform thanks to your core being here.  You are basically immortal, as long as Doc is alive.  Well, your new body would be completely undead, but you’d be alive.  This will certainly be an interesting experience; I have some ideas on what you can do with this.”

Doc cocked his head in thought, “Hey . . . I feel an evolution arising!”

As he said it, two grey slimes rose up from the ground.  They quickly slid over to Rowen and began to circle him.  As they did so, they began to change before everyone’s eyes.

The first slime slowly turned a dark red, different from the fire slimes.  This red was dark at first, but then the dark red fell into the slime and revealed a light red color.  The light red darkened until it returned to the original dark red and the process was repeated.

The other slime changed more dramatically.  Rather than a color, the slime sheath around the core morphed and became solid.  To everyone’s shock, the grey slime turned into a rolling ball of bones with the core peeking out occasionally from the middle.

Claire took a large gulp of air as she tried to calm herself, “Goodness me, I have never seen these kinds of slimes before.  These are completely new slimes!”

Rowen kneeled down and poked the two slimes, which seemed to perk up at his attention and move to touch his waiting hand.

“This is a blood slime, and this is a bone slime,” he indicated, pointing to the red and bone slime’s respectively, “I’m not sure how I know that.”

Doc grinned, “Speaking of which, I’ll just unlock the new evolutionary line of slimes!  Let’s try to upgrade the dungeon now.”

“Doc, be careful!” Claire screamed in warning, but it was too late as Doc focused his attention into the new power.  The world faded as Doc lost consciousness, again.

*********

When Doc came to, he was met with a very worried Claire.

“Why do you keep doing the same things over and over again?” she cried in concern, “It wasn’t funny the first time, so stop knocking yourself out and giving me a heart-attack!  I know you aren’t even a year old yet, but I thought you’d at least learned some impulse control and caution!”

Doc let himself be chastised a little longer before interrupting, “I’m sorry Claire; I just got really excited when I saw the new slimes.  You know how we both get with new discoveries.”

Claire wiped her eyes as she calmed down, “Well, be that as it may, do your best to not black out again okay?  It’s only been a few minutes this time, but the memory of you being gone for weeks is still fresh in my mind.  Ask me before you try these kinds of things, please.  We are partners after all.”

“Of course my dear, I’ll do my best,” Doc promised her, “Now, shall we begin the fun part?”

“We shall!” Claire declared happily.  She turned to look at Aisha, Ayla, Anadine, and Rowen, “Now, this is the first time I’ve allowed any of you to watch the process of changing the dungeon.  Observe and learn as Poppa/Master/Sir and I get this done.”

Turning back to Doc, Claire waved her hand as the familiar and long missed blue screen appeared in the air.  Its magical nature sparkled under the light of Doc’s crystal as he read through his choices.

Ability

Description

Teleporting Glyph

(Acquired)

Inscribe a glyph on every floor that allows adventurers to move from one floor to another easily.  Must have cleared the previous floor to be able to move to the next floor.  Groups are restricted to the lowest level conquered by a member

Additional Race

Able to create an additional race to the one held.  Increases dungeon diversity

Upgrade Monsters III

Grants the ability to improve monsters by unlocking next evolution level.
Current Monster levels: Slime Lvl 2

Instances (Acquired)

Able to create parallel realities within the dungeon, allowing for more adventurers to enter the dungeon at the same time

Environments

Able to create new obstacles in the form of environmental hazards.

Trap knowledge II

Able to improve and add to existing traps by using mana.  Current trap types available: pitfall, aerial, launch, ceiling-fall.  New trap types: spear trap, trigger trap

Mana Stones(Acquired)

Throughout the dungeon, places naturally fill with ambient mana.  Now, those places will condense into mana stones that can be mined

Puzzle Knowledge

(Acquired)

Able to create simple puzzles on floors that test knowledge, imagination, and intuition

Dungeon Aesthetics

Able to change dungeon tunnels and rooms into new forms.  Current form: Underground Labyrinth

New form: Dilapidated temple

Requires Environments to unlock

Dungeon Nursery Room

Unlocks the ability to grow new plants not seen before in the world.  Requires Environments III to unlock

Dungeon Room of Worship

Unlocks the ability to create a shrine room on any floor.  Shrine rooms are a safe place from monsters and hold alters for a particular deity.  Requires Dungeon Aesthetics, religious icon, and approval of chosen deity.

Note: The Dungeon will receive a small percentage of faith magic created in the shrine

Dungeon Room of Traps

Unlocks the ability to create a room filled with moving parts with set requirements on how to leave.  Requires Trap Knowledge II and Puzzle Knowledge to unlock

Locked

Locked

Doc let out a mental sigh of joy; his choices had grown again.

“Claire, I needs the explanations,” he said.

Claire giggled at Doc’s childish words before winking at him, “I’m on it!  Now, as you can see we have gained quite a few new options for you to browse through,” pointing at the first change, “Now, first of all you can choose the second level of traps.  You haven’t used either of your new traps though, so personally I think you should skip that for now.”

“Next are the four new choices.  These choices are the first to require a previously acquired upgrade in order to manifest.  For instance, you need to have the first environment upgrade to acquire Dungeon Aesthetics.  As for why you require that first, it’s because Environments allows you to change your dungeon’s appearance for more variety.  That would also unlock new trap types depending on the environment.  Understand?”

“I get it,” Doc confirmed, “To take a second step I have to take the first step.”

Claire giggled at him, “You can’t walk silly; what kind of analogy is that?”

Doc shrugged, before remembering he didn’t currently have a body to shrug.  He made do by thinking of shrugging.

Claire continued, “The nursery room will allow you to create your own plants, as in ‘completely unique to your dungeon in the whole world’ plants.  You’ll be able to design them like your dungeon: how high they grow, what leaves do they have, do they survive in cold weather, etc.  As you can see though, it requires three ranks in Environments first.  Next is the room of worship.  This will allow you to create a room on any floor that basically serves as a resting point.  Your slimes can’t enter or spawn there, and adventurers can offer their prayers to the god or goddess the shrine represents.  You can even get a small bit of the faith magic that’s created there!  Downside is that you not only need Dungeon Aesthetics, but you also need two things you can’t get in your dungeon: an icon that represents a deity and the individual deity’s permission.  Of the two, I have no idea how to get the permission of a higher being.”  Claire threw her hands in the air to punctuate her exasperation.

“Anyway, the last new upgrade is the trap room.  It’s basically a very complicated form of your 25th floor compressed into a single room.  It will appear randomly on a floor and will hold one of your treasure chests in it.  Adventurers will have to figure out the key to escape the room, or die inside it.  You already have puzzle knowledge and the first level of trap knowledge, so all you would need for this is the second level of trap knowledge.”

Doc, annoyed he couldn’t make physical expression of his feelings, made a new basic slime on the ground to inhabit.  He sighed in satisfaction as he rubbed his slime body in thought, “Well, all those sound really good to me, but it seems like I have to make clear choices and stick with a line of upgrading now and in the future.”

Claire held out a thumbs-up to Doc, “That’s right Doc.  Not only is the mana requirement for upgrades starting to increase, your choices are going to become more compartmentalized.  You’ll have to sacrifice an aspect of your dungeon to continue down a path of improving another.  You can’t undo what you choose, so pick wisely.”

“Well, I do want the third level of slime evolutions,” Doc decided, “That uses about half of the mana I’ve collected . . . What do you suggest everyone?”

“Environments,” the twins chorused together, “You’ll be able to make a forest for us to run through eventually.”

“Work toward the shrine room,” Anadine suggested, “That way you can have somewhere where everyone can worship your glory.”

Rowen tapped his chin in thought, “I think you should get the room of traps.  I like puzzles and challenges, so others likely do too.”

Claire folded her arms across her chest, “These may be your only choices now Doc, but you’ll eventually unlock new things that may make you regret choosing from the limited selection right now.  It’s all up to you though, so go ahead and decide.”

Doc thought for a moment before choosing, “I’m going to get Upgrade Monster level 3, Environments level 1, Trap Knowledge level 2, and Room of Traps.  Environments will unlock more things for me in the future, and my Room of Traps will improve with new trap knowledge levels.”

As he declared this, Doc’s mana began to gather around his crystal.  The floating gem shone as new layers formed on it, Doc’s mana capacity improving as his mana levels rapidly declined.  He felt new knowledge enter his mind and soul, curtesy of his new size.  Thankfully, he did not faint this time.

Claire tilted her head to the side, “I can feel the adventurers and miners being thrown out of the dungeon now; go ahead and begin making your changes.”

Doc sent her an image of a wink before setting to work.  Even with the 4 major choices, he still had enough leftover mana to create 5 more floors.  He decided to place the new floors right before the 5 floors of darkness.

“Now, what do I place on these new floors?”

Chapter 13

Doc used a slime tentacle to rub his crystal body thoroughly in thought as he considered the issue of the new floors.

“I need a new boss for this set of floors; any ideas my dungeon family?” Doc questioned.

Everyone seemed to think for a moment, but had nothing.

Rowen raised his head, “Sir Doc, why not have the new floors after your worgs instead of before?”

“Because . . . uh, I just wanted to make the girls the final boss,” Doc admitted to everyone.

The twins giggled at him, “Poppa, you may be silly but we love you.  We like being the 25th floor boss; it’s like a badge of honor to have our spot here.  Go ahead and move the floors down Poppa.”

“Thank-you girls; well that still leaves the problem on what boss to have for the 30th floor.”

“Well,” Claire spoke up, “Why not use one of your new slimes?  In fact, why don’t you call them up so we can see them?”  Claire clapped her hands in excitement as her eyes glowed.  She liked slime evolutions as much as Doc did.

“Received and accepted, all hands prepare for slime!” Doc announced as he focused his power into the new things he had absorbed.   In the heart room, new slimes bubbled up from the floor and Doc read their general descriptions out-loud from the blue screen.

“These are the first level slimes of the new evolutions lines,” Doc narrated, “The light slime here is resistant to light magic and the dark slime is resistant to dark magic, exactly like their elemental counterparts.  They each have three evolutions also.”

Continuing, Doc said, “For the light slime, there are flash slimes, luminous slimes, and image slimes.  The flash slimes act like firestorm slimes by absorbing light until they release it back to blind opponents.  Since slimes don’t rely on eyesight, this attack is meant only to blind prey for other slimes to take advantage of and attack.  However, the light can harm you girls, Claire, and Rowen, so be careful.  The luminous slimes are slimes that wield light as a corporeal weapon.  These slimes manipulate light into covering their bodies, creating both armor over their slime for defense and over their tentacles for attacks.  The last slime is the image slime.  This slime controls light by creating mirages.  While the mirages aren’t very strong, they are enough to cause confusion during battles.”

“Doc, I need some luminous slimes to replace the torches in my house.  Please may I have some?” Claire asked.

After agreeing to spawn some for her, Doc continued with the three dark slime evolutions.

“From what I can see here, dark slimes have three second-tier evolutions: the shadow slime, the darkness slime, and the light-eater slime.  The shadow slime can hide its body in shadows and unleash attacks from them.  However, they hold no power in direct light or complete darkness, just like the twins.  The floors of complete darkness will render them as weak as a normal slime unless adventurers bring torches with them.”

Doc paused to consider the thought, “Well, that’s a good idea.  Make their downfall be because of their greatest weapon.”

Moving on, he resumed reading the next slime description from the blue box, “The darkness slimes are the opposite of the luminous slimes; they clad themselves in a tangible darkness rather than light.  This darkness creates armor and improves their tentacle attacks.  Light-eater slimes devour light and reduce the effectiveness of any light source near them.  From what I understand, they do not work well with their brethren shadow slimes.”

While he had been speaking, Doc had noticed an odd rivalry within his two slime groups.  When they formed on his floor, the luminous and darkness slimes began to fight, the flash slimes and light-eater slimes began to quarrel, and the image and shadow slimes circled each other.

“I think these two slime groups evolved so differently that they are natural rivals, even in your dungeon,” Claire guessed, “It maybe doesn’t help that the two cores you ate to unlock them were bitter rivals as well.  Are you going to make the new floors light-based?”

Doc shook his slime body, “No, I think I’ll wait on improving the dungeon first.  I need to learn more about them before I commit them to anything.  For now, I’ll let the normal light slime and dark slime roam around the top 20 floors so adventurers get used to them.”

“Actually,” Doc pointed out, “where are my new third level slimes?”

Claire shook her head at him, “Oh Doc, I’m sorry to say but from the third level on, you won’t be able to force your slimes to evolve unless it’s into a new boss.”

“WHAT?” Doc’s disappointment echoed around the room.

Claire rubbed her ears pointedly, “Too loud Doc; anyway, the third-tier of monster in any dungeon requires your monsters to unlock their new evolutions by their own actions.  Your creations will have the final decision on what they become from now on.”

“But, my slimes don’t think for themselves,” Doc whined.

Claire smiled sadly, “Why do you think slimes aren’t popular dungeon monsters?  They can only evolve after the second level by chance eating what they need.  I doubt we’ll see one for . . .”

“Poppa, we have a new slime for you to see,” the twins announced.

Claire and Doc turned to watch the two worgs leading a pair of new slimes into the heart room.  They stared a lot.  They stared so much that the twins began to become uncomfortable.

“Is that . . . hair?” Doc asked Claire for confirmation.

“Definitely hair,” Claire agreed, “What in the world is that slime?”

Before them stood two brown, hair covered slimes.  One of the slimes even had two warg ears on its top and the other had a warg tail.  The slimes jiggled, but the way their fur moved made everyone feel a little nauseous.

“Fur shouldn’t move like that,” Rowen complained, retching in the corner.  The twins joined him a moment later in their hooded forms.  Claire soon followed.

“They seem just fine to me,” Anadine spoke up, her form matching the jiggle.

Claire wiped her mouth with a leaf, “Right, slimes don’t have bones so any movement they make will be fluid.  The fur must makes us think of a normal creature that . . .blegh.”

“I didn’t even know I could be nauseas,” Doc muttered,” Alright, I stopped them from moving.”  He read their description aloud to the recovering group members.

The new slimes here were aptly named furry slimes.  They were the first third-tier monsters in Doc’s dungeon, and were an evolved form of his mimic slimes.  Apparently, they evolved because the twins shed an excess amount of fur.  Furry slimes could have ears, a tail, both, or neither depending on luck.  Because of their fur, furry slimes could no longer digest outside material like their fellow slimes.  Instead, they had evolved a mouth to eat like a normal creature.  However, the mouth was normally hidden, and the teeth were not normal size.  In fact, the mouth opening was quite terrifying.

Claire gave a slow whistle of appreciation as she measured the mouth.  “For a slime that barely meets a man’s knee, it has a huge mouth!  I’m measuring knee height here, as the mouth is as large as the slime’s entire body.  The teeth can even change shape because they are made of hardened slime.”  She pointed at the teeth that ranged from tiny points to dagger length terrors.

“Right, these things are not appearing before the twin’s boss fight,” Doc declared, “Otherwise we’ll scare everyone away.”

Everyone agreed with him; these slimes were terrifying monsters.

“Well, we got lucky with this evolution,” Claire continued, “But you shouldn’t get your hopes up . . .”

“My lord, I found another new slime,” Anadine reported.  Claire just slapped her hand on her face and sighed.

Anadine brought the new slime up for Doc to look at.  It was pink.  It was pink, pink.  The heal slime was pink too, but it was a light pink and the core was visible.  This slime was just pink; a pure, solid pink.

“According to this, this slime is a pink slime,” Doc announced.

“Wonder why Poppa.”

“Big mystery milord.”

“Boggles the mind sir.”

“Alright already, enough,” Claire waved away her children, fighting her own giggles, “What kind of power does this (giggle) pink slime have Doc?”

“It’s a healing slime; but it’s meant for beings beyond slimes.  These pink slimes have lost the ability to digest everything but dirt and are drawn to heal injuries.  Claire, why would a slime evolve so weirdly?” Doc asked her.

“Maybe I can help,” Rowen spoke up, “You see . . .”

Rowen stared down at the angry pixie holding a dagger to his throat.

“I explain things around here,” Claire said in a happy tone, but her face, which was hidden From Doc, sent chills down Rowen’s spine.

“Got it sweetie?” she instructed.

“Yes ma’am,” he squeaked.

“Call me mother.”

“Yes mother!”

The dagger disappeared when Claire turned around with a pleasant face, “Everything in the land has evolved in order to survive Doc.  That’s how living things acquire new traits over generations.  Slimes are no different.  This breed of slime first evolved the ability to heal to prevent it from getting eaten in the wild by other slimes.  Likely, it was only due to your actions during the invasion of the undead dungeon they had a chance to heal other living things.  Of course, this species slime would never evolve out in the wild because it would never get a chance to try to heal other things before getting killed.  Your dungeon afforded this opportunity.”

“Was that a dagger?”

“What are you talking about?”

Doc changed the subject, “Anyway, are there any other new slimes?”

Rowen pointed down, “Well sir, how about the slimes I seemed to have brought into being.”

“Right, let’s check them out.”

Doc examined the two strange new slimes.  The blood slime was, well, made of blood.  Literally, instead of slime its core was surrounded by blood.  The dark red color was when the blood came into contact with the air and the light color was the pure blood before air contact.  From what he understood, the blood slime’s only ability beyond that of a normal slime was a minor control over blood.  Not only could it sense blood, it craved it.  In the wild, blood slimes would swarm any indication of a wounded being.  The more blood a blood slime absorbed, the bigger it got.

The bone slime actually worked similarly to the rock slime.  Unlike the rock slime, however, the bone slime picked up bones instead of stones and used them to surround a smaller protective slime layer around its core.  The bones not only worked as a shield, but could also be launched as weapons.  Differently from the blood slime was that there was a limit to the amount of bone that could be picked up.

“So to summarize, the new slimes are: bone slime, blood slime, dark slime and company, light slime and company, furry slime, and pink slime; anything else?” Claire asked.

When no one responded, Claire continued, “Good.  Now Doc, do you have any plans for the five new floors; maybe using some of the new upgrades?”

Doc mumbled to himself for a minute, “Well, after considering my options, I’ve decided to place the dark slimes and the furry slimes on the dark floors; the furry slimes will only be in the Twin’s room.  The pink slimes will be placed before and after every boss room as a gesture of good will.  The bone and blood slimes will be going to floors 11-15 with the other grey family slimes.  Finally, I guess the light slimes will have the new floors to themselves.  This means I have to make a light slime boss to go with them.”

Doc pointed at the luminous slime, “I’m going with that one since it seems to be the only real attacker in the bunch.”

When he got everyone’s approval, for his confidence rather than permission, Doc focused all his energy into the luminous slime on the floor.  As he felt his consciousness and magic enter the slime, it wiggled and jiggled and evolved before everyone’s eyes.  When it finished growing, the slime now stood as high as a grown man’s chest.  When Doc prompted it to attack, the slime began to absorb light.  After a few moments, it released the light in a straight flash that burned a hole in the wall.

Everyone gawked at the burned hole.  Doc winced as he tried to repair the damage; it felt like someone had tried to cut him open with a hot knife.

“It’s a beam slime,” Claire exclaimed, her eyes shocked, “These slimes can concentrate light into a focused blast, which burns through things.  It works like water magic; the smaller the blast with the same magical force, the stronger the water.  Beam slimes shouldn’t be able to unleash a blast that strong though.”

“For its first attack, I gave it too much power,” Doc reported, “I wanted to see how strong it could get.  Being able to hurt me is way too much power for any slime to have.  Also, it requires light to absorb and release the, what is it called, beams?  So long as adventurers have light resistant armor they should be mostly protected from a direct hit.”

Claire visibly calmed, “Alright, that’s good then.  So Doc, want to talk about the new upgrades?”

“Yeah, can you explain to me what exactly the environments upgrade gave me access to?  I don’t quite understand what it does,” Doc asked her politely.

“Well,” Claire made a cute pose on top of his slime body, “Environments unlock new things for you to play with in your dungeon.  As you’ve seen, it’s an important part of any change revolving around the look and feel of the dungeon.  The first upgrade doesn’t do too much, which is why it was so cheap, but it does allow you a little more leeway with floor design.  For instance, right now you have two types of floors: the unique boss floors where only one team of adventurers can exist in any one instance and the filler floors that change shape but hold any number of adventurer teams.  The dark floors have their hidden connections to the others of its type, but those can’t be found normally.  By itself, the first tier of Environments will allow you to create both floor holes and ascending ladders between the floors.  These are random and change every day, allowing adventurers to accidently or deliberately skip floors or retreat from them.  When you gain enough power to disable the adventurer escape charms, these will become very necessary for adventurers.  Since you have both the teleporting glyph upgrade and the trap knowledge upgrade to level 2, you also have unlocked teleportation traps.  These floor glyphs can transport unwilling adventurers into traps, a trap room, a boss floor, the exit, or anywhere else you decide when you create them.”

“That’s a lot of information to process,” Doc complained.

Claire rubbed his body affectionately, “I know, but you’ll manage it.  You always do Docky.”

“That’s a weird name.”

Claire giggled as she flew over to Rowen and sat on his shoulder, “Now, while Doc is busy improving the dungeon, let’s talk about you my newest son.”

Rowen frowned, “Isn’t this strange though.  I’m a human and you are a fairy.”

Claire whacked him on the head, “I’m a dungeon pixie firstly you dummy, and secondly I will be your new mother just like I am to Aisha and Ayla.  You’ve accepted them as sisters right?  So now, I’ll take care of you too.”

Rowen teared up slightly before rubbing his eyes, “Fine, but I won’t thank you.  I don’t need another mother.”

“It’s fine to honor your original family so long as you don’t forsake your current one.  My goal is to get you to acknowledge me one day.  Anyway, it’s time we go over your role in all this.” Claire gestured to the dungeon all around them.

“I’m listening ma’am, I mean Mother,” Rowen quickly corrected himself.

“Good,” Claire tapped him on the nose, “Now, you are the first of your race, which I plan on calling ‘necromancer’, but beyond the core you are basically human.  Now that your core is safe with Doc, there are very few who can sniff you out for what you really are.  We are going to use this to our advantage.”

She pointed up into the ceiling, “Now, in order for you to be the most help to us, you’ll need to learn how to use your powers.  We,” she pointed to the other dungeon beings, “have no idea how to use necromancy, nor the methods in which humans employ to cast magic.  It’s for your best interest, then, to leave the dungeon and join the adventurer guild as an adventurer.”

Everyone stared in shock at Claire; even Doc paused his mad changing of the dungeon to look over at her.

“Is that really safe?” Rowen asked with concern.

Claire giggled at him, “Silly, it’s not like you are going to be alone.  We’ll be in your head the whole time, and if you die then you’ll just reform back here no worse for wear.  This is a wonderful opportunity to actually experience what we protected from . . . well, your father while he was crazy.  You do remember how to interact with other humans right?”

Rowen gave a small grin, “I am a royal prince I’ll have you know.  I was taught how to speak with everyone from servants to ambassadors.  Um, is Neohart still the dominant country of the south?”

While Claire and Rowen began to discuss their plans and history, Doc looked over to Anadine, who had been waiting patiently.

“Anadine, the time has come for you to reveal yourself to the dungeon adventurers.”

Anadine swelled in pride, “I look forward to bearing all I have to those adventurers who seek to fight you milord!  They will tremble at my bare strength!”

The twins sniggered, “If you really bare all, I think they’ll do more than tremble.”

Doc and Anadine shared a confused look, “Will they faint in fear of my assets?” Anadine formed a variety of weapons with her tentacles.

“They likely will.”

“Will they flee from my tentacle attacks?”

“Most definitely they will, though some will throw themselves at you for it.”

“Will they plead for mercy while I whip them?”

“Some won’t; they’ll beg you to whip them more.”

“Milord, I don’t understand this,” exclaimed Anadine.

“Neither do I.  Care to explain girls?” Doc asked.

Before the two trouble-makers could say another word, Claire appeared behind them with a smile on her face.

“Oh girls, I think we need to have another chat.”

The twins were dragged away, their claws digging into the ground, as Claire with her monstrous strength pulled them into her house.  The door, oddly enough, expanded to accommodate their size.

When they were gone, Anadine and Doc looked over at Rowen.  He shrugged at them.

“Don’t look at me, I’m 10; I’ve barely understood my own situation.”

Chapter 14

The dungeon team took a short break to acclimate themselves with the dungeon.  Doc turned his attention to designing the new floors and inserting both the new traps and trap room into the existing layers of his dungeon.  Claire began her review with Rowen on the plan to get him into the dungeon town.  Anadine practiced her abilities as a wandering boss, and the twins began their long struggle to teach the furry slimes about being a pack.

They had mixed results.

Doc decided his new floors should show off all his new improvements.  Unlike the previous 25 floors, the new floors had a smooth rock finish that gave the walls a slight reflective property, curtesy of his Environments upgrade.  Not enough to show images, but enough that a bright light would be seen from around a corner.  Doc felt this property meshed well with his light slimes.

Instead of making an over complicated trap-door for the new boss, Doc went with making the entrance arch as fancy as possible while staying open with no door.  He felt a nice symmetry; the door to the dark boss was shut while the entrance to the light boss was open.  He formed the archway out of light mana crystals; something he acquired the ability to create after eating the light monster core.  It glittered under its own light, lighting up the two slime statues that stood on either side of it.  For added humor, Doc gave the statues wings.  He also added slime statues outside the twin’s room; those statues possessed warg ears and a tail.

As for the new traps, Doc had a lot to work with.  Previously, he had not used any of the new trap ideas in his dungeon after acquiring trap knowledge.  The new types were launch, ceiling-fall, spear, and trigger.

Launch traps were basically the slime equivalent of dart traps.  When an adventurer triggered the trap, a slime or two would be launched out of a hidden hole toward the triggerman.  Lacking the nuisances known as bones, these slimes could be as thin and long as they wanted so long as the hole was large enough for the core to pass through.  Oozes’ worked even better, as they lacked a core, so Doc settled on them after deciding they shouldn’t only be a mining hazard.  Problem was, without the core the oozes’ didn’t stay together after launch and ended up all over the floor and wall.  Reluctantly, Doc decided to go with his original purple slime.

The ceiling-fall traps were an upgrade over the original aerial traps.  Where an aerial trap relied on the slime to fall on its own, ceiling-fall traps worked like a trap door.  A ceiling-fall trap was perfectly smooth and hidden until someone walked under the trap and triggered it.  The ceiling would suddenly open up and drop slimes down.

Previously, these two traps had to rely on primitive trigger mechanisms like trip-wires, but the new level of trap knowledge and puzzle knowledge allowed Doc to also create new pressure-plate and wall stone traps.  Doc placed the easier trip wire traps above level 20 and the pressure traps under level 20.

The last new trap type Doc had at his disposal was the spear trap.  Working off a trigger mechanism of his choosing, the spear trap would shoot out five spears designed to impale their target.  On the off chance they only inflicted minor injuries, the spears held either a herb slime pre-level 20 or a poison slime post-level 20.

Finally, Doc had his new environmental hazards to play with: the trap room, floor hole, and ceiling ladder.  All three were things that would randomly change location when the day was done.  The trap room would hide itself until an adventurer entered it, either to seize treasure or to pass by.  Trap rooms always held a reward if solved or almost certain death if failed.  Being in a trap room disabled the adventurer escape charm, so no one could escape that way once caught.

The trap room worked simply; it would hold a test of character attribute within it --- a test of individual or group strength by lifting a stone, a test of luck by choosing which lever to pull, a test of intelligence by choosing the correct slime from a prompt written in stone, or even a test of dexterity by picking a lock.  Solve the test and get the prize or fail and have spears fly out from every direction.  Doc practiced with a normal slime; it was messy even for him.  He settled on two types of tests: pull the right lever or kill the slime.  He settled on an easy test that just had the captive kill a slime to escape.  It was better to not kill everyone too quickly, he thought.

The floor holes and ceiling ladders were also simple.  The hole led further down to a random floor and the ladder led up to a random, higher floor.  The floors skipped would not be recorded on the teleportation glyph, so the skipped floors could not be teleported to until competed.

Doc sighed in relief as he finished all his changes.  Revising so much of his dungeon consumed a lot of mental fortitude and he was ready to rest a bit until the next day when the adventurers and miners returned.

“Doc, we’re here to ruin your rest,” Claire called out cheerfully.

Doc gave her the look.

“Oh please, I invented that look for you, and you know it.  You don’t even have a face to give it,” Claire shot his pride down, “Anyway, Rowen and I have come up with our strategy for getting him into town.”

Rowen pointed up, “With the night falling, I’ll leave the dungeon through Claire’s emergency exit into the forest.  That way no one will see me for the first time coming from the dungeon.  I’ll wander into town as an orphan and beg my way into paying for an adventurer registration.”

Doc chuckled, “How about I just give you the coins you need; I can make any number.”  To demonstrate, he summoned a pile of gold coins on the dungeon floor that was taller than Rowen.  Rowen’s eye twitched at the amount of gold.  Even as a prince, he had never seen such an amount of gold outside a kingdom’s treasury.

“Be that as it may, your metal is created by your magic and is thus traceable,” Claire said reluctantly, “We can’t risk Rowen being associated with you before he enters the dungeon under official record.”

“Wouldn’t all the coins picked up by adventurers by now be polluted with Doc’s mana,” Rowen pointed out, “and according to you, mother Claire, most of the gold, silver, and bronze in town likely comes from the mines.”

Claire considered for a moment, “Well, as long as you don’t have a huge amount of coins then you should be, not to add a pun to this, golden.”

Doc snorted anyway and Claire giggled at her own joke.

“Mother Claire and Sir Doc,” Rowen spoke up joyfully, “While I don’t remember everything, I know a lot of jokes and pranks to help improve your . . .” Rowen fled under the combined assault of thrown gold from Doc and Claire.

Claire stuck her tongue out at Rowen, “It seems you haven’t learned your place in the scheme of things young Rowen.  Doc, prepare the punisher!”

“Aye, aye milady,” Doc summoned the overslime into the room.  It ominously began to create many tentacles that crept slowly toward Rowen.

Rowen paled, “Sir Doc, I don’t like physical punishments.”

Doc and Claire exchanged an evil grin, “Now why would we ruin a perfectly good body like yours?  We are just going to teach you a little lesson.”

“Talking like the twins is really creepy,” Rowen pointed out as he retreated to the stair-well.  It abruptly disappeared as he reached it.

“No escape Rowen,” the two lords sang as the overslime closed in, “Now, experience the nine hells of tickling!”

The twins and Anadine shut their minds away from the bond.  They had no desire to listen to Rowen’s appeals for assistance.  They knew all too well what was coming.

*********

Mary cracked her knuckles as she settled into a chair.  Today was finally the day when she could go back to work without her receptionists looking over her shoulder.  She was free again; though honestly, it was the freedom to work herself to death.

“I’ll have to think of a suitable punishment for the girls,” she muttered to herself as she straightened a stack of papers, “For being my receptionists, they were too strict with me.”

“Guild-master,” Ally called out from behind the door, “I’ve brought the heads for their appointment with you.”

Mary cursed under her breath, but responded, “They may enter.”

From behind her wooden doors, three figures walked into the room: Witch Helen, Alchemist Forcus, and Enchanter Stevins.  They were the respective leaders of the newly formed Enchanting Factions of the Dungeon Town that had formed after the fight with the Tomb of the Forgotten King.  The three of them had shown off their strengths and formed their factions in the heat of battle.

That in itself led to certain compatibility issues.

“No, no, no Helen, I refuse to accept the idea of substituting traditional crystal solvent with dungeon derived source crystal.  The impurities alone would cause disaster, not to mention the smell it would create.”  Alchemist Forcus was the newly established leader of the alchemy guild.  He stood tall and lean with a droopy hat similar to a night-cap and wore long scholar robes.  His fingers were constantly fiddling with the seams on his robe and his frown never disappeared unless he was making potions.

“Oh please Forcus, don’t talk to me about smells.  I’m telling you, producing a smell means you are on the right track.  Just let me or one of my sisters cast one of our curses on the solvent prior to dropping it in.  With the right spell I’m sure we can come up with a new method that benefits both our sides!”  Witch Helen was a bit of an odd woman.  While her body was attractive, some might even say seductive, her face seemed to change almost every day due to some spell or brew she cooked up in her cauldron.  As coven leader of the witch guild, she was a master of curses as well as spelling objects.  Her personality, on the other hand, was one of dedication to study and innovation.

“The both of you, calm down.  The guild-master is being forced to witness your dreadful display of manners now.”  Enchanter Stevins was a balding man with a small smile that always seemed to be playing on his lips, as if he was privy to some great secret or joke no one else knew.  He was normally the mediator between Helen and Stevins, but in doing so put himself in the position of being ridiculed by both of them.  This firmly established their status of “troublemakers”.

‘Then again,” Mary mused to herself, ‘the best geniuses always have a bit of a loose spell in their head.’

Out loud, she cleared her throat, calling silence from the three leaders in front of her.  “Now then,” she began, “To what exactly do I owe the honor for seeing the three of you here at the same time?”

Forcus pointed over at Helen, “We have a few things to discuss, but first can you help us settle an argument guild-master?  The witch here is trying to convince me to work with her on one of her new, dangerous, projects.  As you know, alchemists and witches rely on potions for much of our value.  Helen wants to experiment using an alchemist recipe and a witch’s curse to create a new type of potion.  I’ve been telling her using powered dungeon crystal is both a waste and extremely dangerous . . .”

Mary held up her hand, “Excuse me, but what kind of potion involves the use of a dungeon crystal?  We are talking about the crystals retrieved from the Tomb of the Forgotten King, are we not?”

Helen spoke up now, “We are guild-master; I am offering to use my portion for the experiment.  The potion I’m trying to design is one that can create an entirely new type of enchantment; one that would strengthen both armor and weapons against slime monsters!”

Mary raised an eyebrow in surprise, “You have my attention.”

Helen shot Forcus a triumphant smile as she continued, “You see, no matter what dungeon humans dive into, every monster is directly created by the dungeon using its mana.  Similarly,” she held up a silver coin, “Anything made by the dungeon also holds its mana on it.  Ignoring the slight differences in element, size, age, and power, all dungeon heart crystals are inherently the same type of mutated soul stone.  Enchantments against slime monsters are only at the basic level because their evolutions are too different depending on the environment.  You would be able to enchant against all fire slimes, for instance, but would need a separate enchantment against water slimes.  Using the dungeon magic as a base connection, this new type of enchantment will unlock the ability to fight against any monster no matter their affinity and nature!”

Mary looked over at Forcus and Stevins, “Is she correct?”

Stevins thought for a moment before answering, “In theory, yes.  All three of our enchanting branches rely on some part of a monster to create enchantments to fight against other monsters of the same type.  I myself use powdered slime core in my experiments to create resistant armor.  So far, at least, we have only been able to add a general magic enchantment to adventurer blades and armor, but none specifically tailored toward slimes in general.”

Mary looked over at Forcus, who was fidgeting.  “She has the right idea,” Forcus reluctantly admitted as he released his sleeve, “I can find no fault in her theory, but her methods are highly questionable!  To use a curse in any school of enchantment is to create cursed items, not enchanted ones.  Witches don’t even use curses in their own enchantments!”

“That’s why it’s such a revolutionary idea,” Helen exclaimed, “A curse specifically tailored to target slimes by their dungeon magic connection and woven into an enchantment for equipment.  Imagine the possibilities, what we could further create from success: no more fear of the were-curse or other monsters species that are individually different.”

“And if our enemies get hold of such knowledge?  What if the empire uses it to create a curse that targets believers of the gods of order?  A curse that targets only humans,” Forcus countered, standing up.

Helen scoffed, “That kind of enchantment already exists Forcus.  Your worries are petty and stuck in the past!” she too stood up.

“As an enchantment, not as a curse or potion,” Forcus yelled, “This moves into dangerous territory that could endanger the lives of thousands!”

“ENOUGH!” Mary roared at the two, forcing them to silence, “SIT DOWN!”

Watching them take their seats, Mary sighed and waved her hand.

“If you can figure out a way to create an enchantment that specifically targets dungeon monsters, you will all be rewarded.  However, no curses,” Mary watched as Helena and Forcus took on the appearance of someone who had eaten a bug, “And Stevins is in charge.  There will be no work done without his supervision and I must be kept up to date at all times.  Is that understood?”

The three of them nodded in agreement.

“Good.  Now, let’s go over the trade agreement between your guilds and the adventurers.  They have sighted a concern here for the falling price of herb leaves . . .”

Chapter 15

Fiora pulled the straps of her armor tight as she inspected herself.  After reading the reports left by Jare and his brothers, it was now her turn to enter and investigate the dungeon.  This was a special opportunity to increase her guild rank from C to B, and if she failed it would be some time before she would have another chance.

She took a calming breath, “No need to be nervous, I’ve been in this dungeon before.  I have all the notes up until the 25th floor, and I have a good team.  Nothing is different.”

A knock at her door broke her trance.  “Who is it?” she asked.

“It’s Nat; we’ve been summoned,” Nat called through the door.

Curious, Fiora went to the door and opened it, revealing the confident face of Nat.  She was also dressed if full adventuring attire, her trusty great-sword on her back.

“The guild-master wants to see us,” Nat explained to Fiora, “Everyone else is ready and waiting for our fearless leader.”

Fiora smiled wryly as she clapped Nat’s shoulder, “Well, let’s lead over to the guild then; can’t keep Guild-Master Mary waiting forever.”

“Shouldn’t we call her ‘guild-mistress’?” Nat wondered out loud as the two headed down the stairs, “I mean, she is a woman right?  Why not change the title?”

“It’s because if it were changed to ‘mistress’, then it would make her different in the eyes of the public,” Fiora explained, “By being called ‘master’, she is asserting herself as being equal in power to the male guild masters.  At least, that’s what I’ve heard anyway.”

“Pah,” Nat scoffed as they reached the ground-level, “Forget all that posturing and politics; let’s just have women rule the world.  Then everything would be peaceful.”

“Are you saying women never fight with each other my love?” Jonas spoke up playfully from the table where he was sitting with Gran, “Because I’ve seen women fight before, and female assassins are much scarier than male assassins.”

“What about female berserkers?” Nat asked playfully, poking Jonas in the arm with her finger.

“Those are very scary,” Jonas nodded in agreement, “Wielding swords twice their size and screaming ‘bloody murder’, who wouldn’t be afraid of them?”

“Enough,” Fiora waved her hand in bemused annoyance, “We aren’t law-makers or church-folk, so let’s leave these issues to them.  Focus on what we can do, like killing monsters.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jonas and Nat saluted to her sarcastically, to which Fiora rolled her eyes.

Gran chuckled, “Oh leader, your displayed elegance in the use of human vernacular is amazing as usual.”

“Oh bite me you tree-hugger,” Fiora snapped at him.

Gran scratched his head in confusion, “I do hug trees, why should I bite you?  As healthy as you look, I doubt you’d taste like an apple.”

Fiora ignored the laughter of the peanut-gallery as she led her four companions out the door into the busy streets.  They dodged workmen carrying lumber and stone as they made their way through Iron Town toward the adventurer guild.  When they reach it, they were greeted with loud calls and cheering.

“Long live the fiery leader!”

“Look, it’s the Fire Squad!”

“Burn my hand!”

“I love you Nat!”

Nat held on to Jonas before he chased after the cat-caller.  Fiora couldn’t hide a grimace as they left the crowd behind.

“Who started calling us the ‘Fire Squad’?  That is one of the worst names I have ever heard for an adventurer group.  Let’s just advertise our strengths and weakness with that name shall we?” she angrily muttered.

Gran patted Fiora’s back in comfort, “It’s fine Fiora.  After all, you and Jonas rely on fire-based attacks, and Nat’s berserker ability can create flames.  Even I can create basic fire spells.  It is to be expected that we would land with a name that reflected that.”

Fiora kept frowning, but stopped complaining.  Nodding to Ally the receptionist, Fiora led her team into Mary’s office.

Mary rose and offered a smile in greeting.  “It is good to see all of you,” she said, “Come, sit with me.”  Mary led them over to some new couches, which sat on either side of a small table perpendicular to a single chair, which Mary sat in.

“You must be wondering why I called you here when you all were so close to leaving for the dungeon,” she began, “The reason I have called is because I am postponing your quest in favor of another, more urgent one.  As you have heard before, the crown prince replaced his brother Sir Ken in the last moment for the official royal delegation to our Dungeon Town.  Since he is soon to be crowned king, we have orders to increase security in every possible way.  I am authorized to offer you this security job as a B-ranked quest, with an equivalent reward.”

Nat gave a low whistle of appreciation.  B-rank rewards were not cheap; normally no one in their group would be entitled to it.  For example, a typical C-rank reward would be worth a small village, but a B-rank reward could be equal to a normal town.  This was because the difficulty of quests increased almost exponentially after D-rank rewards; the better the reward, the more likely it was you would die.

Fiora’s mouth twitched, “I see.  When would this job begin then?”

“Today or tomorrow, though most likely in a few hours,” Mary considered, “His carriage is due to arrive soon, if the message from Duran is to be believed.”

Fiora sighed, “Okay, but why ask us?  We are adventurers, not body guards.  We have served as guard to merchant convoys before, yes, but that is different from protecting someone of such high importance.”

Mary sighed and bowed her head down for a moment.

“There is a situation back at Duran,” she admitted, “a week past, Lord Rotch escaped his house arrest right before he was taken into custody for conspiring with the cult that killed the princess Diana.  Not only is it suspected that a member of the council aided him, but the escape was performed by demons.”

The four adventurers tightened their fists at the news.  Nat was particularly angry, her face morphing into a guise of hatred.  Jonas held her hand to calm her.

“What kinds of demons?” Gran asked calmly, the only member of the party with a semblance of emotional neutrality.

“Most were easily summoned, but they were led by a strong demon of sloth.  Its power weakened the guards and they were easily slaughtered.  With his history and temperament, Lord Rotch will likely be coming here to exact a price for the death of his son, even though we are not responsible.  It’s also very possible that he will try to use his demon allies to attack the prince while he is in town.  You four are some of the few in town with experience fighting a major demon; we need that.”

Nat’s face twisted into a scrawl, “We faced a major demon of rage; even then, we did not win.  How can you say we are the best this town has for protection?  Why not ask the priests for help instead.”

Mary shook her head softly, “While you did indeed lose to the demon of rage, it has gifted you with valuable experience in facing a demon.  Since then not only have all of you improved your skills, you have also improved your weapons and hearts.  Even if the major demon is of a different sin, their mind control abilities all work the same way.  The clergy here are all ill-equipped to deal with a major demon with the exception of Father Jonas, and he has other matters to attend to.”

Jonas patted Nat before turning to face Fiora, “Leader, this could give all of us a chance to put our inner struggles to rest.  The dungeon isn’t going anywhere, and neither are we.”

Gran nodded to Fiora, and Nat jerked her head up with resolute eyes.  Fiora sighed and grinned savagely, “Fine, we’ll take the job.”

“Excellent,” Mary clapped her hands in joy, “You have no idea how much stress this relieves me of.  If you four will follow me to the town gate, then we should be just in time to meet our guest of honor.”

“Whoopee,” Fiora said unenthusiastically.

Mary frowned, “No apprentice of mine will display herself with such vulgar countenance.  Show some spirit!”

Fiora drew her sword and roared, “Yes Mistress!”  She blushed afterwards, because this was a reflexive move beaten into her over the course of years.  She glowered at the sniggering of her companions.

“As expected of my apprentice,” Mary grinned sadistically, “You remember my lessons well.”

A knock at the door distracted the five of them.  Carla entered and said quickly, “Guild-master Mary, the look-outs have reported the prince’s carriage on the horizon.”

“Alright, we’ll go meet them at the main gate,” Mary declared, “Follow me please.”

Mary led Fiora and her team out of the adventurer guild and toward the western gate of Iron Town.  There, the town militia was in full force: making carriages and carts head to other gates and keeping the townsfolk away.  The captain of the militia bowed to Mary and allowed them through the gate to the plains.

“There they are, right on schedule,” Mary said as she lifted her hand to shape her eyes from the mid-morning sun.  In the distance, a carriage was being escorted by cavalry in tight formation.  The royal flag zipped through the wind on the top of the carriage.

Fiora frowned as she shielded her eyes and examined the carriage, “The horses are moving too fast; they are frothing at the mouth from running too hard.”

“Indeed,” Mary frowned at what she saw, “The cavalry unit is missing as well.  That can’t be right; the leader was properly informed of what formation to use at each leg of the journey.”

Jonas and Nat strained their eyes, but failed to see anything of clarity from their position.  Gran patted the both of them on the back pityingly, “If you are wondering where the horsemen are, I can see some riding with the carriage and a larger troop chasing the carriage.  The larger troop will soon overtake the carriage group.”

“The troop must have been replaced by traitors.  They need help!” Fiora turned swiftly, “Captain, we need horses!”

The militia captain quickly turned over four stallions to the adventurer group.  However, as they took the reins, an explosion shook the palisade.  The militia fell into combat as black-robed assassins began to attack the troops.

“I’ll stay here and deal with these saboteurs,” Mary told Fiora, “You take your team and save the prince!  Be careful and victorious my apprenti . . . my daughter.”

Fiora smiled softly and whispered, “Thanks, mother,” as she jumped onto her horse.  She kicked it, and led Nat, Jonas, and Gran toward the carriage, with Nat holding the white flag of peace.  Mary turned her attention back to the attackers and grinned evilly.  Blood from the fallen enemies began to stream across the ground to her feet, forming a pool beneath her.

“Allow me to entertain you all,” she said, her eyes seemingly sending out rays of red light.

Fiora and her adventurer team members rode toward the approaching carriage.  As they approached, however, the pursuing group reached the carriage and the last royal defenders.  A few attackers jumped onto the carriage from behind.  Gran loaded his bow and unleashed deadly accurate arrows on the perpetrators.  Each shot struck a fatal point on their targets.

Jonas grimaced, “My best magic is fire-based, which would set the carriage on fire.  I won’t be much use here.”

Fiora nodded, “Just stick to melee combat with your staff or fire sword.  Nat and I will do the same.  Gran, you keep firing away with your bow.”

She took a deep breath, “CHARGE!”

At her command, Gran broke off from the three of them and began riding parallel with the group.  He continued his volley of arrows at the enemies.  Nat and Jonas wielded their weapons, a bastard sword and flame sword, and struck down any of the assassins in black they could reach.  Fiora pulled out a smaller dagger and duel-wielded it with her trade-mark sword, sending heads flying as she moved through them.

While the four fell onto moving mass of horses, the carriage burst into flame.  Fiora cursed as she noticed some of the assassins entering the carriage, her sword slitting the chest of an assassin.  His voice gurgled as he fell.

“I’ll rescue the prince!  Keep them off me!” she ordered.  Then, she leaped off her horse onto the roof of the carriage.  She steadied herself and put away her sword before lining up her dagger.  Stabbing down, she cut the roof and fell inside.

Once in, she thrust forward and stabbed through the mouth of a very surprised assassin.  He died choking on her sword.  His companion shouted a war-cry and raised his own dagger but was promptly kicked out of the carriage.  His hand glowed as it hit the door, and he was gone.  Fiora turned to the two other occupants.

“Are you hurt?” she asked hurriedly.

The two shook their heads.  In their current clothes, which were damaged by the fight and smoke, she couldn’t tell which one was the prince.  There was enough room in the carriage to get up and move to the doors.  When Fiora tried to open the doors, however, she found them magically shut and locked, the last act of the assassin.  She frowned at the situation.

“Hold on to me!” she yelled at them.  The two men jumped and hugged her with all their strength.  Fiora held her breath and took a sword stance. She breathed out, and then in slowly, drawing her strength into her left arm.

“Hiyah!” she shouted, letting the power in her arm explode out in a slash.  The force burst through the side of the carriage, taking the entire wall with it.  Fiora, with the two men holding on to her, leaped out of the burning vehicle as a fireball formed from the air rushing back into the carriage and threw her dagger.  The vehicle exploded behind her as she landed safely on the ground.  Her sword slashed from left to right, decapitating two assassins who had been standing in front of her, while her dagger was deflected by a large man in black.

The large man in black took a quick look around him.  Jonas and Nat were smashing their way through the enemies.  Jonas’ sword of fire burned as it cut, and Nat’s massive sword crushed bodies into the ground.  Gran was still picking off targets with his bow even though he had been forced to abandon his horse to avoid the flying debris.

The large man in black roared out, “Retreat”, and led the remaining assassins away toward the forest.

As she watched them flee, Fiora sighed and sheathed her sword.  The battle had been won.

“Nat, Jonas, Gran; are you three all right?” she asked.

“Minor cut, no poison,” Nat announced.

“No injuries,” Gran reported.

“As good as I’ll ever be,” Jonas shrugged.

Fiora let relief appear on her face before she turned to the two men she saved.

“Now, which one of you is his highness?” she asked tentatively.

The man on the right brushed soot off his face, revealing an older face that seemed to be twitching between annoyance and gratefulness.  It was actually interesting to watch.

“I am the royal adviser, and this is his highness Prince James.  I thankyou for your rescue, but I must insist that you address his highness with more respect.”

“It’s fine Alfred,” Prince James waved him off.

“Alfred?” Fiora said, startled.  She took a close look at the adviser.

James chuckled, “No need to be surprised Fiora; this is our Alfred from school.  He just aged quickly.”

Alfred sighed in despair, “I’m 25 years old.”  Everyone gave him a sympathetic look.

James turned to face Fiora, “It has been some time Fiora.  Thanks for the help.”

Fiora shook her head, “I’m just doing my job.  Come, let’s get you to the safety of the town.”

“Lead the way,” Prince James smiled, “We have much to discuss.”

Chapter 16

While the commotion with the prince was going on, the town guards had become lax in their security at the gate facing the dungeon.  When reports of battle came through the town, the security decreased even further as more guards left their posts to assist in the aftermath of the attack.

With the limited personnel present at the gate, no one was there to notice a small figure slipping in with the normal crowd of adventurers and merchants.  The figure waited until he was clear inside the town before darting away from the crowd into a small alleyway.

As he confirmed no one was following him, Rowen sighed a breath of relief.  “I made it,” he reported.

“Good going Rowen,” Claire praised him, “I don’t know why the guards were missing, but this made it a lot easier for you to sneak inside the town.  How are you feeling?”

Rowen peeked out and stared at the newly risen Dungeon Town. He shook his head, “It’s so similar to the city I saw from the castle, but it’s obvious this is not my time.  I can only read half of the words I see; the language has obviously changed.  I’m really glad being a part of sir Doc allows me to understand what others say.”

“It’s because Doc’s magic enables him to speak with everyone.  Imagine trying to speak with The Twins or Anadine without it,” Claire giggled in Rowen’s mind.

Rowen couldn’t help but giggle himself; Anadine couldn’t make sounds and the twins barked and growled.  When he recovered, he peeked around the corner again.

“What should I do next?” he asked.

“I have no idea; you’re the human here,” Claire declared, “I have no idea how to live with humans.  They tend to be grabby with my kind.”

Rowen grew worried as he kept staring from the corner.  While he indeed was human, in a fashion, he was also of royal blood and from a time period years in the past.  Even if he could understand what others were saying that did not mean others would understand him.

“Hey kid, what are you doing here?” Rowen jumped as he heard a voice behind him.  He turned and found three large men starring down at him.

“Hi, I’m Prince Rowen the Third, Son of King Helius the Second,” he squeaked.

“What did he say?” the man on the left asked.

“Don’t know; I think he’s a foreigner,” the middle one snorted.  He snapped his knuckles threateningly, “That means he’s a spy.  Let’s turn him in for some silver; maybe a slave caravan would buy ‘em.”

Rowen had heard enough.  He bolted into the street, running as fast as he could through people and wagons.  With the men roaring and chasing after him, Rowen dashed down the street before darting into another alleyway.  He dived under a wagon and clapped his hands over his mouth to hide the sound of his breathing.

He listened to the sound of the men running down the alley, passing his hiding spot and leaving him behind.  Waiting until he was sure they were gone, Rowen slowly crawled out from under the wagon and jogged back onto the main road.

“I can’t communicate with them mother Claire; this is not good,” Rowen said, worried as he kept moving.

“Hm, I’m sorry Rowen that I can’t help,” Claire apologized, “I can’t teach you how to speak because my very nature uses magic to translate the words I speak and hear.  You’ll need to find a teacher.”

“How should I . . .” Rowen began to ask before he spotted one of the men from before running toward him.

“Hold right there ya little brat!” the man roared at him.

Rowen turned tail and ran as fast as he could, once again.  As he ran, however, he failed to notice a pair of eyes watching him go by.

“Not tempered enough,” Olaf whispered, heading back into his shop, “but he holds promise.”

Rowen ran into alley-way after alley-way, but could not shake his pursuer.  Worse still, the streets were becoming less filled as he approached the gate.  Rowen was forced to leave the busy area and enter an area filled with tents.  This unfortunately meant that he couldn’t hide anymore.

Rowen’s speed was much faster than the man’s, but he could feel himself starting to get tired.  His body was still young, but sleeping for hundreds of years had impacted his previous training.  Knowing the man behind him would eventual catch up if he slowed, Rowen forced himself to run into one of the taller buildings in the midst of the sea of tents.  He burst through the swinging door, his head darting quickly and taking in the surroundings.  Rowen dived behind the counter, startling the barkeeper who was working there.

“What in the nine hells?” the bartender yelped as he glared down at the crouching Rowen, “Get out of here!”

“Please help me,” Rowen begged.

The bartender cocked up his eyebrow, “What . . .”

Rowen heard the door swing open again, and listened to the footsteps as the man approached.

“Oy, tell me where the boy went,” the man demanded.

The barkeep folded his arms and glared, “Why should I?”

Rowen heard the man growl, “Don’t question me old man; that boy’s a spy and I want the reward for turning him in.”

Rowen watched the bartender’s forehead start to twitch, “A spy huh.  What makes you say that?”

Rowen almost jumped as a fist slammed into the counter, “Don’t ask questions old man!  Tell me . . .”

The bartender’s hand shot out and grabbed the man’s throat, pulling him over and causing him to gasp for air.

“Oy bastard,” the bartender said slowly, “You made a few mistakes here.  One, you weren’t polite and entered my business before asking permission.  I’m not open right now.”

“Two,” he squeezed tighter, “I’m not old.  I’m in my 30’s in the prime of my life.”

“And three,” at this point the man’s face was turning blue as he struggled to break free, “No one hits my bar!”

The next instant, the bartender released the man, jumped the counter, and grabbed him by the shirt.  Rowen poked his head above the counter and watched as the bartender dragged the man to the door and threw him out.

“Don’t come back!” the bartender roared.  Turning around, he sighed and scratched his head awkwardly as he stared at Rowen.

“Ah, let me get some tea.  My healer tells me it’s not healthy to get so worked up anymore,” he said to Rowen.

Rowen watched as the bartender took out two small cups from under the counter.  He reached up and took a pot off the shelf, placing it on a strange looking surface of four cross bars.  Rowen jumped in shock as the bartender placed a red crystal underneath that caught fire.  Soon, the pot whistled, and the bartender poured tea into the two cups.

“Drink,” he said to Rowen.

Rowen obediently picked up his cup and drank, slowly like he had been taught by his mother.  It was warm and very soothing.

“Thank-you,” he said to the bartender.

The bartender nodded in understanding, “I see.  You can understand me, but can’t speak in turn.  You know how to drink tea properly, something most children cannot.  Judging by the state of your clothes, you must not have any parents.”

Rowen, having been reminded of his parents, teared up and nodded.  The bartender sighed and shook his head mournfully.

“I’ve seen too many like you.  Parents gone or dead, leaving younglings like you behind to fend for yourselves.  I’m guessing your parents were fairly wealthy since you understand tea,” the bartender mused, drumming his fingers on the counter.  After a moment, he asked, “So, what do you want to do?”

Rowen shook away his tears, “I want to be an adventurer.”

The bartender shrugged, “Well, it’s not like I can understand you.”

Rowen’s face twitched.

The bartender chuckled and slapped Rowen on the back, “I’m just joking youngling.  I understood the word ‘adventurer’ from the garble you just spat out.  Still, you are too green to be wanting to go dungeon diving.”

He scratched his head in thought, “Well, how about this?  I need someone to assist me in this tavern while I’m renovating the place.  You help me and my daughter, and I’ll train you with my adventurer experience.   I’ll even pay you a small wage and let you have the attic to sleep in.”

As wonderful as the terms were, Rowen felt very cautious.  “Why?” he asked the bartender.

The bartender rubbed his chin, “I’m guessing you’re curious why I’m being so generous.  Three reasons; one, I actually need help.  Two, I don’t fear anything you could do. Three, I have a soft spot for younglings like yourself.” He grinned roguishly, “You remind me of how I used to be.”

“Father, I’m home!” Rowen and the bartender turned to see a perky, young girl skipping into the tavern.  She cocked her head curiously, “Who’s he?”

“This is my new worker . . . um . . . Hey brat, what’s your name?” the bartender asked.

“Rowen,” Rowen answered.

“This is Rowen, my new worker.  This is my daughter Milly, and you can call me Fred,” Fred held out his hand, “Welcome to the Knifed Zombie.”

Rowen shook Fred’s hand and was pulled into a violent handshake by Milly.

“Hi!  This is great!  You can be the little brother I’ve always wanted!” Milly declared happily.

“I don’t really want to be your brother,” Rowen tried to communicate to Milly.

Milly shook her head, “I don’t understand . . . Oh, I bet you asked for my help in learning how to read and talk.  You’re in luck, because I’m soon to be 14 and know a lot of words,” Milly puffed out her growing chest, Rowen’s eyes twitching downward for a moment, and continued, “Follow me for your first lesson!”

Fred grinned as Rowen was helplessly dragged away by his over eager daughter. Fred began to whistle as he returned to cleaning the counter.

All of the pleas Rowen communicated to the dungeon were met with restrained giggles from Claire and misplaced encouragement from Doc.

*********

After saving the prince from the attempted assassination, Mary personally led him to the Adventurer’s Guild and her office.

She bowed her head and apologized, “My humblest apologies your highness, I should have been more cautious and bold in the security detail arranged for your arrival.  While I have dealt with all the assassins that attacked the town gate, the ones that escaped have hidden their trail from our hunters.  I apologize for our failure to apprehend them.”

Prince James waved his hand and shook his head, “No Guild Master, this is no fault of your own.  The enemy is deeply entrenched within both Duran and the Dungeon Town; even my forces were taken unawares in this security breech.  Many of my guard died so that I could escape the initial ambush.  There is no shame when no one could have done any better.”

“Besides,” he smiled at Mary, “It’s not like they were able to harm me.  Your guards and adventurers managed to save me in the nick of time after-all.”

Mary smiled back, “Well, small blessings and all that I guess.  My people are interrogating the survivors as we speak.  But if they were coerced magically, then it’ll be a dead end.  We already know the enemy can employ strong demons capable of controlling minds to a limited extent.  The demon summoned all those months ago was even strong enough to turn weaker willed people into puppets.”

“Is that kind of demon still a threat?” Prince James asked cautiously.

Mary shook her head, “It’s very unlikely.  That was a ‘Prince’ level demon of rage; a demon of that strength normally requires an entire city of sacrifices to summon it.  Even then, it would require a compatible host body and would be weak for a time until it devoured enough rage to reacquire its strength.  The perpetrators had the sacrifice prepared before giving the ritual to your brother; likely from war prisoners.  With the war only just beginning in Groatland, they don’t have enough sacrifices to do it again; at least, not for a while anyway.”

“As you said previously, small blessings,” James sighed in relief at the news, “To be honest, the main reason why I replaced my brother for this trip was not to oversee preparations for my coronation here . . .”

“It was to escape the city; am I right Prince James?” Mary winked at him.

James started, then relaxed and shook his head warily.  “Was it so obvious?” he asked her.

“It makes sense,” Mary began to pour a warm drink for the prince and herself, “You are soon to be king, and everyone is vying for your support and good graces.  You have no idea who you can trust, and the source of wisdom that comes from experience, your parents, are ill-disposed.  Now, you have definite confirmation that someone in your inner council is a traitor by choice or blackmail.  Is here, far from the troubled politics of home, not a safe place in comparison?  Rather, even if trouble were to appear here the majority of citizens are equipped to deal with it.”

“Exactly correct,” James accepted the drink and tasted it slowly, savoring it, “It pains me to say, but Duran and its sister city states are not prepared for this kind of espionage and conflict.  For too long have we been at peace and are thus at a disadvantage against those who fight as a living,” he sighed, “With the city-states so divided, the Empire will surely win once their plans come to fruition.  The one saving grace is that Groatland has a long military tradition and will hold out for some time.”

“I wonder about that,” Mary commented as she sipped her drink, “With agents of the Empire here in Nehatra, it must mean they wish to invade here.  Groatland would be in a dire position if they were forced to fight a war on two fronts.  If they should fall, I wonder how long it would take for the other races to start noticing the wolf clawing at their doorsteps.”

“They won’t help,” James sighed helplessly, “The elven kingdoms are too prideful to get involved in a conflict between humans, the dwarves are too far away, the beast-men can’t provide any more support, the devilkin are also too far away to help, and the gnomes hate wars.”

“What about the monster races?” Mary asked.

Prince James chuckled ruefully, “The goblins, orcs, and kobolds won’t help; there is too much bad blood between them and the so called ‘blessed races’.  Of the rest, our only possible allies would be the dragon-scale tribe, but they are busy getting ready for spawning season.  No help will be coming to our country.”

“Then we must make do,” Mary declared, “How are the preparations coming?”

“Slow,” Prince James admitted, “There is still a lot of paperwork to do, and I do not believe your Noble Quarter is ready to accept many high-class visitors.”

Mary shook her head, “the building effort has been concentrated on restoring the town.  Very little has been done on the noble quarter, although your residence is complete.”

James tapped his chin, “While the official ceremony will be here, my advisers will likely have me undergo a second one at Duran for those who can’t make it here.  That will make it easier to handle on this end.”

He stood up, “I must return to my duties, but thank you for taking the time to meet with me.”

“Not a problem your highness,” Mary got up and bowed to him, “I expect great things from you and this ceremony.”

Chapter 17

Michelle turned gracefully, deftly avoiding the cup of wine thrown in her direction.  She kept a bemused expression on her face as she watched Lord Rotch throw a fit of anger.  He screamed and smashed up many of the valuables he had been requesting of her the past few days.

“Those were hard to get,” she pointed out to him, and she was forced to duck this time as a candlestick passed over her head.

“They failed to kill him!  All your assurances and promises, and your agents still failed!” he roared at her.

Michelle giggled and walked seductively over to Lord Rotch, her hips swaying side to side in a sensual motion.  Rotch’s eyes were unable to look away as the red devil wrapped her arms around his neck.

“My dear, no need to fret so much,” she cooed into Lord Rotch’s ear, “This isn’t even a setback for our plan; you know this.  Even if we had succeeded in disposing of the hateful prince, it would only have made things sli-ght-ly easier,” Michelle blew into his ear.

Lord Rotch began to visibly calm down as his body relaxed in Michelle’s embrace.  “You are right my dear; why am I so angry?” He began to feel a bit confused, then his face was pulled into Michelle’s as they shared a kiss.

Unbeknownst to the lord, a red energy passed from Michelle into his body.  When she released him, she winked at him.

“No need to put so much thought into things my dear little lord,” she traced his arm with a nail, “All you need to do is focus on the revenge soon at hand.  They will all pay for the sin of killing your child.”

Lord Rotch’s eyes glowed red as he began to murmur, “My child . . . hateful . . . revenge. . .”

“That’s right; focus on that and think nothing else,” Michelle whispered, “Come, follow the servant to the training room.  Hitting the slaves always makes you happy.”

“I love to hit the slaves . . .” Lord Rotch muttered as a hooded servant led him away from the room.  Michelle folded arms under her chest and smiled evilly as he disappeared from sight.

“Sister, you have a way with words.”  Michelle turned to see Milda appear from the shadows.  Michelle pouted.

“Oh?  I thought my talents lay in more, interesting areas?” Michelle raised her arms, causing her chest to bounce seductively.  Milda giggled in response.

“Of course older sister; your talents are ever increasing with your age, and your wrinkles,” she teased.

“Where are these wrinkles?  Speak you little devil!” Michelle grabbed Milda’s cheeks and pulled as she frowned down at her younger sister.

Before the pain could set in, Milda dissolved into smoke and reformed on the other side of the room.  This time, however, instead of her normal appearance of a young, cute blonde girl with crocked teeth she appeared as a devilkin.  Her skin was tan, and she stood tall as a seductive figure with long, blonde hair and a set of short, black robes.  Her chest, however, was still smaller than Michelle’s.  Milda stuck her tongue out at her sister.  Two curving horns peaked out from under her hair, and a pointed tail whipped back and forth behind her.

“To use such violence against your only blood relative; how mean.”

Michelle walked toward her sister, her body and clothes changing.  When she reached Milda, her true form was almost a twin of Milda’s except for red hair, paler skin, and a larger chest size.  The two hugged each other warmly.

“You know I would never harm you,” Michelle whispered, “You and I are the only ones left.  No matter what happens, we’ll be together forever.”

They broke their embrace and took seats across from each other.

“I see Rotch is coming along as planned,” Milda observed with a smile.

Michelle nodded, “He’ll be ready when the time comes.  Through him, I’ve made contact with the various resentful forces of Duran.  They are our chess pieces now.”

Milda giggled, “Silly humans; so much negative emotion in a town of peace.  It just goes to show they are only happy when they are killing each other; they ma-ke it so ea-sy.”

“What of your end of the plan?” Michelle prompted, “Is it proceeding well?”

Milda sighed and held her hands up in defeat.

“It’s really hard,” she complained to her sister, “There is so much happy feeling in town; the invasion of the undead dungeon appears to have back-fired on us sister and made the people bond closer.  I was only able to find a few pawns and lost most of them in our little failure.  I only have a few left.”

“Will it be enough?” Michelle asked with some concern.  Their plan had to be perfect before they implemented it.

Milda made a ‘v’ with her fingers, “While I don’t have a lot of pawns, they are all really special.  Have no fear older sister; everything is ready.”

The two sisters leaned forward and touched foreheads and horns, feeling each other’s warmth.

“Soon, it’ll all be over,” Michelle whispered happily, “Praise be to Lady Temtra.”

“Praise be,” Milda echoed.

With their discussion done, Michelle picked up a round, black stone.  It was time to make her report.

*********

Claire and Doc were having a wonderful day.  Not only were adventurers starting to return, but now they had a new source of entertainment.

Claire giggled and pointed to one of the images on Doc’s crystal, “Look Doc, they are making little Prince Rowen do chores.  Look how badly he’s doing them!”

“I had no idea there were so many different ways to break a glass,” Doc admitted.

Poor Rowen had never been subjugated to menial labor before.  The prince was struggling with some of the most routine tasks: cleaning a glass, wiping the floors, and even some basic cooking.  Some of his exploits were amazing enough to peak Doc’s curiosity.

“Claire, how does one set fire to water?” he asked her.

Claire giggled uncontrollably, “By accidentally adding oil on top.  To be fair Doc, he was trying to make a soup or stew.”

“I wonder if I could make a soup slime?” Doc pondered.

This set Claire into another giggling fit at the thought of a slime made of soup.  It’s one attack, drowning its prey in savory flavor.

While Doc was enjoying the sights as much as Claire, his interests lay more in watching the world outside his dungeon.  He liked humor as much as Claire, but he didn’t understand most jokes.  It was a minor consequence of knowing too much, and at the same time, too little.

The outside world was filled with interesting things for Doc to discover.  The tools, the humans and other races, and so many other things filled his crystal with wonder and curiosity.  It was amazing the amount of restraint he was displaying in order to not pelt Claire with questions.

When Claire recovered from the thoughts of soup, she righted herself and flew around the room, leaving a little purple trail of light behind her as she exercised her wings.  Doc watched her until she tired herself out and made her a small slime to rest on.

“Thank-you,” Claire said happily as she got comfortable on the slime.  She turned her body to face his crystal, “Are there any adventurers coming down past the jungle slime boss?”

“Yes,” Doc exclaimed joyfully, “Thanks to the beast-men, the other adventurers seem to be braver now and are diving deeper into the dungeon.  A few groups have even made it to the magic slime boss.”

“Did they win?”

“Most of them lived,” Doc said regretfully, “the boss battle was much harder than when I tried to fight.  The magic slime actually behaved like a magic slime and unleashed magic from the rear of its forces.”

Claire patted the slime chair in sympathy, “Don’t worry Doc, you’ll have plenty of time to practice for your final boss.”

Doc perked up, “Final boss?”

“Yeah,” Claire grinned mischievously, “Have I not told you about final bosses yet?”

“No,” Doc said.

Claire stood up and flew from the floor to her pedestal.  She took a seat across from his floating crystal body.

“You see Doc, the monster known as a dungeon has 3 main parts,” Claire held up three fingers, “The first is your original form, the crystal.  As you grow in strength, so too will the crystal.  It is the source of your life and empowers your dungeon with magic.”

“The next part,” she continued, “is your physical dungeon.  If your crystal is the heart of a dungeon, the actual labyrinth surrounding it is your body.  From this maze is where you draw the original name for your species, the magic labyrinth.  That name has since evolved into simply being ‘dungeon’ due to the large amounts of deaths that occur within.  Your dungeon, and everything growing inside it, is under your power.  You can change it at will and grow your monsters within its walls.”

“Finally,” she concluded, “the last part is your final boss.  This is the strongest monster within your dungeon, your final line of defense and greatest creation.  Once you create a final boss, you will no longer grow . . .”

“WHAT?”

“Let me finish,” Claire silenced Doc, “What I mean to say is that your choices for growth will be limited by your final boss.  For instance, your final boss will always appear before your heart-room; this can’t be changed no matter how many more floors you add.  Also, no monster you create after can be stronger than your final boss.  Understand Doc?”

“I do,” Doc said, a little unnerved, “I can’t make a final boss until I feel satisfied I can’t make anything stronger.”

Claire nodded her head, “Exactly Doc; many get confused because a dungeon’s last boss is always ‘the final boss’, but they are merely placeholders until you get deeper and stronger.  Not all dungeons are equal, however.  Some dungeon crystals have a lower limit, and thus never get any stronger after say 10 or 20 floors.  In their case, their final boss will be created sooner to better protect themselves.  With your ability and proximity to the dungeon town, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about a final boss for some time.”

Doc thought to himself for a moment, “Hey Claire, was that giant skeleton boss from the undead dungeon a final boss?”

“It was,” Claire confirmed, “That’s a good example of how terrifying a final boss can be.  Even compared to my studies, that giant skeleton was one of the best final bosses I have ever seen or heard about.  Not only was its strength impressive, it also had three entire forms that had to be defeated before it was destroyed.  It’s definitely worth learning from.”

Doc grumbled a bit, “You don’t have to praise it that much.  I’m your dungeon after all.  I can make a final boss just as good as that one.”

Claire giggled and flew up to gently hug Doc’s crystal, “Silly Doc, you know better that!  You are my dungeon, and very few things in this world can change that.”

Doc stared, “Shouldn’t it be ‘nothing will ever change that’ instead?”

“No, because magic is weird,” Claire winked at him.

Doc chuckled nervously but embraced the feeling of affection from Claire.  He perked up as he sensed something.

“Hey Claire, some adventurers found the first trap room!”

The two immediately turned their attention to one of the scenes playing on Doc’s crystal.  A group of 3 adventurers had just found themselves stuck in the trap room.  The two men appeared to be arguing while the woman was trying to escape using her charm.

“Which test will they choose: strength, intelligence, luck, or dexterity?” Doc speculated.

“I think strength, no wait, intelligence,” Claire gushed, “Oh, I can’t wait!”

In the end, one of the men rolled up his sleeves and approached the levers.  He appeared to be reading the prompt on the wall.

“The first question is which slime is Tier-3,” Doc informed Claire.  They watched as the man studied the three slime pictures.

“Hey Doc,” Claire began, “How are adventurers supposed to figure out which slime is which when the drawings are just in one color?”

Doc stared, “The names are there too.”

“You don’t know how to write Doc; I had to help you with the boss door for the twins remember?”  Claire reminded him.

Doc felt as if he had made a mistake.

“Well, I’ll just fix that before he . . .”

Doc and Claire watched as the adventurer pulled the wrong lever.  The next moment, both men found themselves horribly impaled by spears that shot out from the floor, walls, and ceiling.  By an odd stroke of luck, the women had been standing in the one spot in the corner free of spears.  When she realized what had just happened, she immediately began shrieking and screaming as her body was covered in the gore of her former comrades.

“Opps,” Doc muttered, “Well, at least I learned something.  I’ll make it fairer next time.”

Claire sighed as the women finally regained enough mind to use her escape-charm to leave; by its design, the occupants of the trap room could escape after the trial was complete no matter the outcome.

“Another day, another lesson, let us begin your instruction on letters Doc.”

*********

The witch Helen sighed as she poured away the latest failure in her experiments.  Enchanter Stevins shook his head and sighed with her.

“We’re starting to run out of your dungeon crystal shards,” Stevins pointed, “You won’t be able to continue with these tests if you do.  Neither I nor Forcus are willing to assist you with more than we already have.”

Helen pursed her lip, “It’s fine; I’ve placed an order with some of the merchant groups here in town.  They are contacting their associates in other parts of the country to find more.”

“More?” Stevins sputtered in shock, “By the gods Helen, have you stopped to think of the time and cost required for more shards?  Not every dungeon is available for harvesting their crystal you know.  Come, let’s stop so you can actually put those shards to good use.  Why not create a better potion recipe or something?”

Helen shot a frown at Stevins, “This is my project; if you don’t see the value in it I won’t take any more of your time or resources.  Good day Enchanter Stevins.”

Stevins shook his head, and left the room.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” he muttered as the door shut behind him.

Helen scoffed; the man had no idea how revolutionary her plan was.  If she could create an enchantment that targeted slimes, then she could create an enchantment for anything.

“All creatures have a weakness,” she muttered to herself as she cleaned her potion pot, “That’s why we can enchant weapons and armor to deal with individual races. We can create bonuses against goblins and orcs, humans and elves; why are slimes so difficult?”

She knew the answer of course.  Slimes as a race may have shared the same origins and body type, but after evolving, their abilities shot out in so many different directions there was little common ground after.

“This is a golden opportunity; so many types of slimes in this dungeon all with the key similarity that they are dungeon monsters.  I have to find the link . . .”

At this moment, a faint energy arose stealthy from a piece of paper.  It snuck its way through the air and into Helen’s ear.

She tilted her head, “Wait, the link.  The link is the dungeon, so why not create an enchantment against the actual dungeon?  That’s an even greater idea!”

Her eyes shone in excitement as she began to cackle, “Of course, a dungeon can create any type of monster.  If I can create an enchantment against dungeons, then it wouldn’t take too much work to have it modified for any number of targets.  Why, if I can create a potion to fight against the creators of monsters, who’s to say I wouldn’t be able to create a potion to go against the gods.”

A faint gold rolled around her eyes, “I would be the greatest enchanter, the best witch.  No, I am the best witch for this job, no question.  Everything is going according to my will . . .”

She began to move clutter around as she cleared a space for her papers to begin research.  Her eye caught the original commission note that had started her journey to realize her greatness.

It was signed, “To the Greatest Witch in the World”.

“I am the greatest,” Helen continued to cackle, “Soon everyone will know that . . .”

As the faint gold faded away, Helen grew confused.

“What was I just talking about?” she wondered out loud.

She looked down at her notes.  “Creating an enchantment against slimes by enchanting against the dungeon first,” Helen read, “I wonder when I wrote this?  No matter, it makes perfect sense!”

Her excitement returned as she delved into her favorite research pastime, humming away as she worked.

The notice glittered gold in the light, a faint glyph in the background.

Chapter 18

“As expected, the common folk go through such terrifying trials in order to survive this cruel world,” Rowen moaned as he felt the pain of exertion in his arms.

His melancholy was quickly broken by the sounds of giggles behind his back.  He turned to find Milly smiling at him with her arms folded.

“Why Rowen, I’ve never heard anyone complain so arrogantly before about washing dishes.  I have to remember some of what you say; they are much better than any I’ve come up with before.”

The last two weeks, Rowen had gotten used to the little devil of The Knifed Zombie.  Fred was the best, and only, boss Rowen had ever had.  Rowen compared Fred to the battle-master who had trained him in the castle ever since he was young.

Fred not only taught Rowen how to do common chores, he even set up a small area for Rowen to practice with a sword.  Even when Rowen messed up, Fred patiently taught him what he did wrong and how to do it better.  Rowen was rather satisfied with his current existence if it were not for the devil in the house.

Contrary to the belief of most in town, including Fred, Milly was a very cunning person.  Privately, Rowen was amazed how Milly was able to handle a crowd.  During business hours, her personality was cute and adorable, endearing herself to the many older men.  When alone with her father, she was sweet, considerate, and loving.

However, when she was with Rowen, she showed her true colors.  Milly mercilessly subjected Rowen to hard work and repetition while she taught him how to speak.  On a few occasions, she had even denied him food until he finished his exercises!  She was also quite cutting with her words when addressing him, and she seemed to take great amusement teasing him and telling him he had a long way to go with everything.

Rowen sighed, “I’m still resentful you made me tell you.”

“What, that you are a prince?” she laughed at him, “Sure, and I’m your hidden sister.”

Rowen rolled his eyes at her, “My sister is much prettier than you.”

Milly frowned at him and scoffed, “Fine then, since you have no gratitude toward your teacher, I guess you aren’t interested in what I have to say.”

“Not really,” Rowen muttered as he washed the next dish.

Milly’s frown flipped into a sparkling smile, “Even if it involved learning about magic?”

Rowen’s hands paused for a moment before he gritted his teeth and continued to wash.

Milly skipped over to the window next to Rowen and leaned her back against it.  She peeked at Rowen as she continued, “You know, I go to classes held by the Adventurer’s Guild to learn basic skills.  I’ve taken classes about cooking and sewing before.  Tomorrow, our class is going to host a real mage to lecture about magic and see if any of us have any talent for it.  I happen to have one slip to invite someone with me . . .” Milly’s eyes turned to check Rowen’s face.

Rowen grunted and continued washing, “Your dad needs me to peel potatoes tomorrow for the meal.  I’m too busy.”

Milly bunched up her head in thought, “Well, I guess if I felt generous enough to offer my help with those potatoes. . .”

Now, Rowen turned his head to look at Milly.  He frowned, “Why don’t you invite one of your other friends?  I’m sure there are others you play with that are more fun than I am.”

Milly looked down, her face depressed.  “Fine; I’ll do that then.”  Getting angry, she glared at Rowen and went, ‘hmph’, before storming off and slamming the door behind her.

Rowen sniffed at the door and went back to work.  “No way I’d go with you,” he muttered, “Bad enough I have to put up with your teasing when you’re home.  This prince has enough sense to avoid such an obvious trap.”

Sometime later, Rowen was swinging the practice sword at the target when Fred knocked on the wall.

“Hey Rowen, take a break for a moment,” he called.  Rowen finished his swing and then placed the practice sword next to the target.  He turned and bowed respectfully to Fred.

Fred scoffed and waved his hand dismissively, “I’m not your master boy, no need for all that formality.  Anyway, I want to talk to you about Milly.”

Rowen’s face tensed, but he joined Fred by the wall.

Fred sighed and scratched his head, “You’ve been here a few weeks now Rowen.  I’m sure you’ve seen how much I love my daughter.”

Rowen began to pale, “Um, I didn’t do anything to her sir!”

Fred raised his eyebrow and eyed Rowen.  After a moment, he chuckled and nodded, “Ay, I know that young one.  I doubt you have the strength to do anything to her anyway.”

He continued as Rowen frowned resentfully, “Back to what I was saying, Milly is my special girl.  I lost her mother when Milly was young, and it took me years to recover from the depression.  When this town was created, I took it as a sign and used the savings from my adventurer days to buy some land and open this tavern.  The only issue is that I took Milly away from her friends.”

Fred folded his arms, “In a town of adventurers, merchants, and craftsmen there aren’t many children due to the remote nature of the place.  Milly goes to learn from the Adventurer’s Guild, but none of the children who also go live here.  They’re either the younglings of nobles or merchants and won’t associate with a commoner’s youngling.  Well, they try to get close to her for her beauty, but that’s when I normally make my introduction.”  The sound of knuckles cracking made Rowen flinch.

“So, you want me to be Milly’s friend?” Rowen ventured, “I mean, she’s 3, no 4 years older than I am.  I don’t think she’d have too much fun with me.”

Fred patted Rowen’s head, “Contrary to what you believe I see, I know how she treats you.  I haven’t seen her have so much fun in years.”

Rowen gave Fred a look.

Fred dropped his fist on Rowen’s head, “Oy brat, don’t give me that look.  Remember who is giving you a job and a place to sleep!”  He coughed and continued, “Anyway, I’ve watched how you two interact.  She’s open with you in a way she isn’t to me.  I actually watched her practice teaching in her room to help you learn.  She enjoys your company, even if she has a strange way of showing it.  You’re also mature for your age, so she can talk to you in a way she can with no one else.  I wish you would go with her tomorrow, but I won’t make you if you don’t want to.”  With that said, Fred left Rowen to his thoughts.

Rowen walked over to a hay bale and sat down, thinking to himself.

“Mother Claire, what should I do?” he asked through the dungeon mind link.

Claire was silent for a moment before replying, “I know how that girl feels.  I was an only child and was only friends with the plants in my mother’s house.  It certainly wouldn’t hurt to make her happy, and Doc would really appreciate the chance to learn about magic from a professional.”

“Go, go, go!” Doc called in the background before Claire blocked his voice.

Rowen tilted his head and thought for a moment, “Well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt too much.  This prince should be magnanimous once and a while.”

He plopped down off the bale and left the practice area.  After wandering around for a few minutes, he found Milly sulking in her room.  She was twirling one of her practice knives on the floor, sighing every time it lost momentum and fell over.  Rowen knocked on the door, drawing her attention.  She frowned at him.

“What do you want?” she asked angrily.

Rowen rolled his eyes at her, “Your dad said I could have the day off tomorrow.  Is the invitation still available?”

“No,” Milly sniffed and turned away from Rowen with her arms folded, “I’m giving it to Mr. Bubbles.”

“Who is Mr. Bubbles?” Rowen asked, confused.  He’d never heard such a weird name before in his life.

Milly turned and stuck her tongue at him, “Mr. Bubbles is my friend and always does whatever I want.  He’ll be joining me at the academy from now on.”

Rowen shrugged, “Okay.  I’ll go tell your dad then.”

As he turned to leave, however, Milly quickly called, “Wait!”

Rowen turned back and raised an eyebrow in question.  Raising an eyebrow to ask a question was one of the tricks he learned from his father.

Milly fidgeted, “Well, maybe Mr. Bubbles won’t be able to make it tomorrow.  Would you come with me?”  Her last words were almost whispered.

Rowen watched her, and saw a figure overlapping with her image; his older sister, smiling sadly at him as she left to marry a foreign king.  Rowen forced himself to not tear-up and took in a deep breath.

“I would be honored to come with you to learn magic,” he said calmly.

Milly perked up and smiled triumphantly at him, “Hmph, it doesn’t really sound like you want to go.  Why don’t you ask me a little better?”

Rowen grit his teeth, but said, “Please allow me to accompany you tomorrow milady.”

Milly turned her nose up in the air, “Well, if you insist.  Your manners are that of a prince anyway, so I might as well reward such good behavior.  Leave me vassal, so that I may get ready for the dinner shift.”

Rowen felt his heart twitch as the flow of the conversation changed, but left the room and closed the door.  As he tried to make sense of what had just happened, he heard a happy squealing from inside the closed door.  He couldn’t stop himself from smiling involuntarily.

*********

The next day, Rowen had barely enough time to prepare before Milly grabbed his arm and hauled him out into the busy morning road.  Fred waved cheerfully from behind the bar as they left.

As Milly led Rowen through the crowd into Iron Town, she began to talk away about her experiences: from watching the town grow up into what it was today to the invasion of the undead dungeon.

“It was really scary, especially with all the skeletons and zombies!” she told Rowen seriously, “People were screaming and running around; I thought all sorts of evil things were going to happen.”

Rowen, who was saddened as he heard about the undead dungeon, asked, “Didn’t you kill a zombie though?  That’s why your father is changing the name of the tavern, so you couldn’t have been that scared.”

Milly frowned, a slight red glow appearing in her eyes, “It was scary, but the idea of losing Poppa was even scarier.  I wasn’t going to let anything happen to him, and I won’t let anything happen to him.”

Rowen winced as her grip tightened around his wrist, “Milly let go; you’re hurting me!”

The red in her eyes disappeared and Milly let go, a bit startled.  She rubbed her head sheepishly, “I’m sorry Rowen, I get really tense when it comes to my Poppa.  He’s the only family I have left, and we love each other a lot.”

Rowen checked his wrist and, finding nothing wrong, smiled in understanding.

“Family is important, I fully empathize with that feeling,” he said to her, “Wait, I think that’s the first time you’re apologized to me.”

Milly winked, “I won’t make a habit of it.  Now come on; I don’t want to be late!”

When they reached the guild, Rowen wasn’t too impressed.  The building was only two floors high, with what looked like a singular room for a possible third floor.  The roof was red, like the other buildings and was made of stone and wood.

Milly led him inside and into a side room filled with chairs and tables.  “Here, sit next to me!” she told him as they took seats in the middle of the room.  A few boys who were already there eyed Rowen curiously, and some girls began whispering to each other.  Rowen noticed no one was offering a greeting to Milly.

“It’s okay,” she said when she noticed him looking around, “They think me strange for killing a zombie with a throwing knife.  Some even say I have magic powers.”  Milly giggled at that as if it were a private joke.

As more and more kids began to fill the room, Rowen picked up a faint hint of blood-thirst.  His eyes eventually landed on a fancy looking boy glaring at him from across the room.  When their eyes met, the boy sneered and turned to face the front of the room.

‘How odd,’ Rowen thought, ‘What did I do to him?’

With that thought though, a teacher entered the room and drew everyone’s attention.

“Okay class, welcome to today’s lesson.  Now, I am very happy to introduce someone who is very experienced in the ways of magic.  Please welcome our very own guild-master, Master Mary herself!”

The class was filled with gasps and clapping as a beautiful elf woman entered the room.  Rowen held his breath as he felt the magical power emanating from her body; someone that strong could possibly see he wasn’t an ordinary human.

“You’re okay Rowen; don’t panic,” Claire reassured him through the bond, “Your bond is spiritual, not magical, so she shouldn’t be able to see a difference.  Well, maybe?”

Rowen didn’t feel any better.

He watched as Mary held up a hand to quiet the class.  She smiled at them, “Greetings young ones, and welcome to my introduction to magic.  Now, who knows what magic is?”

A boy raised his hand, “Magic is power!”

Mary shook her head, “That is only part of the answer; anyone else?”

This time, a girl raised her hand, “Magic is life itself?”

Mary shook her head again, “No, magic can affect life and create pseudo-life, but it is not actual life.”

The fancy boy who had sneered at Rowen raised his hand now, “Magic is a force of nature that exists all around us and in us.”

Mary nodded, “Correct, magic is indeed a force of the world around us and can be found within and around us.  Now, magic is merely a word used to refer to the effects of using mana.  Mana is an ethereal substance, the source of all magic.  When a mage casts magic, he draws upon the words of his spell to channel his inner mana into whatever form of magic he is casting.”

Another boy held up his hand, “Why are there so many different schools of magic?  Shouldn’t it all be the same?”

Mary grinned, “Well, if most beings had the ability to live long enough to master multiple forms of magic, I’m sure there would be fewer schools.”  She chuckled as the class paled slightly, “I jest, but at the same time I am not.  Magic can be channeled in many forms, and the stronger one gets in an area of magic, the more specific their magic becomes.  For instance, a powerful fire mage is unlikely to be able to cast witch curses.”

She waved down the hands that flew up, “Yes, I will now explain some of the many different types of magic.  Most of you are familiar with elemental magic, the magic of nature.  These are also embodied by the gods and goddess of order, however using this magic does not mean you follow said god or goddess.  Elemental magic is the most basic type, allowing a mage to control the world around them.  Fireballs, breathing underwater, flying through the air, or traveling through the ground are all good examples of elemental magic.”

“Next is enchantment, the magic of support.  Wielding this type of magic allows one to imbue magic into objects.  This can increase a person’s ability to inflict damage or take it.  It also lends its power to creating items, as the magic bags carried by adventurers are enchanted to be able to hold more than they are originally capable of.”

“Control magic is the third school of magic.  This type of magic enables the caster to manipulate other things both inanimate and animate.  It includes puppetry, beast taming, necromancy, golem creation, charm, and other mental enchantments.  Due to some of the magic within this class, this group is regarded as being the most dangerous school.”

“Curses and Blessings both belong to the school of body magic.  This school allows one to manipulate your inner mana to improve or hinder the physical ability of a single person or a group of people.  Naturally, this school also includes the magic of armor manifestation, force of will, healing, and a few others.”

“The last school of magic is divine magic, which requires both a certain level of faith and mana.  Divine magic is granted by the gods and goddesses, and thus cannot be cast if they do not hold you in favor.  A person can cast a number of spells from the other schools of magic so long as their god or goddess holds sway over that branch of magic.  For instance, Father Jonas here in the Dungeon Town follows Duren and is a master of wind magic.  However, he cannot cast other elemental magic, as those are the purview of the other gods and goddesses of order.”

“These are the five main schools of magic, are there any questions?” Mary asked the class.

“Isn’t control magic evil?” someone called out from the back of the class.

Mary shook her head, “While control magic holds the greatest temptation of evil deeds, it in itself is not inherently evil.  Like all magic, it is a tool that depends on the person who wields it for direction.  Now,” she interrupted the questions, “Who would like to learn a simple spell to complete today’s lesson?”

Everyone raised their hand.

Far away in the dungeon, Doc raised a tentacle.

Chapter 19

“Alright then,” Mary smiled at all the eager hands,” This spell I’m going to teach you is called ‘Light’, the simplest spell of the light class of the elemental school.  Now, everyone hold out your hand like so . . .”

Mary held her hand out in front of her, palm facing the sky.  She waited until the students had copied her before saying, “Now repeat this chant after me: lumen craci ralo.”

“Leuma craci rali,” Some of the students tried to follow her pronunciation.  Mary practiced saying it with the class a few times until she was satisfied with their performance

“I have taught you the hand motion and I have taught you the magic phrase, but can anyone explain why nothing is happening?” she asked.

Milly raised her hand, “Is it because we aren’t putting anything into the words, like how drunken men yell for the sky to fall and nothing happens?”

Everyone giggled and laughed at the reference.  Even Mary’s face held a hint of a smile as she answered, “The example notwithstanding, yes, that is the correct answer young one.  The ability to control the mana inside you and force it out into the world is decided at birth, much like one’s capacity to hold mana.  Some people find they are blessed with large reserves but with no ability to cast, and others possess sufficient control without the power they require.  For this light spell, all you need is a tiny bit of talent.  If you are not able to use this spell, then it is unlikely you will be able to wield magic without assistance from tools or magical surgery.”

Rowen finally ventured his hand into the air, “Master Mary, how does one feel this?”

Mary scratched her head, slightly troubled now, “Hm, well that is a subject of scholarly debate.  Everyone feels something different when they invoke magic: a feeling, a smell, a vision, a sound, a taste.  Very few have the same invoking process, because they are not adept in the same class of magic. Did your parents not take you to a Magic Guild or Temple when you were 5 to teach you your invocation process?”

Rowen cursed inwardly to the three heavens.  The ceremony she was describing was one that had been around since his time.  However, while during his original time, children would be tested on their 10th birthday, not their 5th.  Due to the war and subsequent loss, Rowen had missed the opportunity to experience the testing ceremony for himself.”

Milly quickly came to his defense, “Master Mary, Rowen is a refugee.  He was forced to flee his home before the ceremony.”

Mary’s face turned sad as she regarded Rowen.  “I understand,” she sighed, “the empire’s war has hurt so many people.  I’m sorry child, but I cannot help you find your talent.  Try your best to invoke the spell with the others; perhaps you will have a lucky break.”

Rowen’s eyes roamed the room as he considered what to do.  By happen-stance, he locked eyes with the fancy boy who had given him the ugly look earlier.  The boy was now smirking at him as he showed off a small light ball in his hand.

‘Think you are better than me, dream on’, his eyes seemed to be taunting Rowen from the front row.  Rowen grew angry.

“I am a prince among commoners,” he muttered quietly to himself in irritation, “I refuse to let such a low level obstacle get in my way.”

“That’s the spirit Rowen, don’t give up!” Milly whispered to him as she concentrated on creating her own ball of light, “Not that you are actually royalty.”

Rowen glared at her before returning to stare at his palm.  It floated in front of his face, an empty wasteland of nothingness.

“Come on, push out!” Rowen tensed his body and pushed with all his strength.

Unfortunately, all that accomplished for him was a rather loud fart that echoed across the room.  Small giggles began to spread as Rowen’s face slowly turned red from embarrassment and frustration.

“Calm down Rowen,” Mary called from the front, “You won’t get anything if you just force your body like that.  Focus on your spirit, not your body.”

“She’s right,” Claire echoed in Rowen’s head, “At this rate you’re going to end up with more than just an upset tummy.  You’ll have to change pants.  We pixies cast magic as easily as breathing, but you non-magical races have to invoke that nifty little spirit inside you for magic.  Try thinking of something that makes you relax or happy.  Though, maybe you’re one of those who needs a weird thing like fear or anger to cast.  At the very least, you’re doing better than Doc.”

“Quiet Claire, I almost got it!  Look, I cast a light-ball!”

“Doc, you made a fire slime explode again.  That’s not a spell; that’s a tragedy.”

“I refuse to give up!”

As Doc and Claire continued to quarrel in Rowen’s mind, he began to relax.  Their bickering was very similar to what his parents used to do.  They fought as much as they talked, but always backed each other up.

“Maybe if I think of my family . . .” Rowen brought his memories up and . . . experienced them.

Someone else farted, breaking his concentration.  Worse still, a few had obviously had silent episodes that were sneaking their way through the air.  Mary wisely opened a window at the front of the room.

His meditation broken, Rowen was left with nothing except shattered memories and severe irritation that bordered on rage.

“By the hells, I cast light by damnation!” Rowen finally broke and roared out a curse.  Everyone recoiled at the curse, though Mary had an impressed look before she recovered and frowned.  However, before she could correct him, Rowen exploded in light.

When the light faded, Rowen was left sitting in his chair covered in minor burns with everyone else around him pushed away.  Milly, who had been closest, had wisely ducked under the desk when Rowen had yelled.  Her intuition was at a high level.

Rowen’s face stood bemused and awkward as he looked around him.  The other students were rubbing their eyes to clear the blindness.

Mary chuckled and drew the attention of the entire class back to her.

“That,” she said amused, “is a prime example of what happens when someone with a high capacity of mana forces a spell.  Three, two, one . . .”

Rowen’s eyes rolled up and he collapsed gracelessly.

“When that happens,” Mary continued as she caught Rowen before he hit the floor, “all the mana is used at once, making a powerful spell at the cost of all the mana in one’s body.  Still, this one has some interesting potential.”

Mary looked down at Milly, “Milly right?  I’ll have one of the adventurers carry your friend home.  Tell him when he wakes up that he is welcome to come to my office; I‘d like to talk with him.”

Milly nodded and followed Mary out the door.

“Oh right,” Mary paused at the door, “practice casting the light spell for next class.  Your teacher will be assisting you.  Class dismissed.”

As the two ladies and one deadweight left the room, the class erupted in conversation about what they had just seen.  The fancy boy at the front of the room frowned and drummed his fingers on his desk.

“Danny,” he called out to one of the boys near him, “Do you know that guy?”

Danny shook his head, “Sorry Rolf, don’t know him.  If he’s a refuge then it’s unlikely anyone else knows him either.”

Rolf grimaced, “An unknown boy appears with magic talent out of nowhere claiming to be a refuge.  Not only has he attracted the favor of the guild-master, but also my lovely Milly.”

“Didn’t she reject ya boss?” Danny asked bluntly.

Rolf chuckled, “I’ll change her mind.  Only I can appreciate her as she is.  After all, we’re childhood friends from Duran.  She’s just forgotten our promise, that’s all.”

“Didn’t she also say that promise was invalid because you were both kids?” Danny asked.

Rolf’s eyes twitched, “Naturally, I know her heart and temperament better than most.  Some day in the future I will prove myself . . .”

“Didn’t she say you had no chance past or futur . . .” Rolf’s hand clapped over Danny’s as he turned to glare at him.

“Danny, you talk too much.”

*********

“Errrrrrr!” Doc groaned loudly.

‘Ptussh’, a slime exploded into gooey nothingness again.  When the slime finished flying through the air, Claire peeked her head out from behind the protective rock wall she had created.  She shook her head and waggled her finger at Doc.

“Nope, another failure,” she reported, “That’s the 20th slime that’s died in your experiments.”

Doc snorted angrily, “Stop counting already Claire; I’m doing this until I get it!”

“No matter the number of sacrifices?” Claire asked.

“No matter the cost,” Doc confirmed.

Claire rolled her eyes and giggled, “Then let me stop you here.  You’ll never be able to cast any magic besides your dungeon magic.  Your body won’t allow it.”

Doc turned his annoyed attention to Claire now, “And why is that?  I want to cast a fireball!”

“Silly Doc; tell me, how many colors do you see when you use your own dungeon magic?” she asked him.

“Just purple, why?”

Claire tapped her forehead, “That’s right Doc; you can only use one type of magic.  If you could use other types, then you would see other colors: red for fire, blue for water, yellow for air, and green for nature to name a few.  Purple refers to your particular brand of control magic, not all dungeons have the same elemental affinity of course.  But, you can still cast other types of magic through your slimes.”

Doc digested this information, “So, if I want to cast a fireball I just have to rely on a flaming slime.”

Claire thought about how flaming slimes didn’t shoot fireballs, but instead spewed out flame in a stream.  She wisely nodded in agreement, “Right, exactly like that Doc.”

Doc settled in a feeling of self-satisfaction as the room automatically cleaned itself.  Claire flew up and into her personal tunnels through the dungeon.

“I’m going to visit our daughters at work, be right back,” she mentally told Doc.

“Okay, have fun,” Doc acknowledged as his mind left his crystal body to examine the dungeon.  Due to the trap room fiasco, the adventurer groups who had made it below the 10th floor had become extremely cautious.  To Doc’s disappointment, very few groups traveled below the magic slime boss on the 15th floor, and the ones that did were too scared to fight the elemental overslime boss on the 20th level.  As such, no one was anywhere near to testing out the new floors he had created.

That being said, he was pleased to listen in to the complements about his dungeon.  The alchemists and other craftsmen worked out a system of paying for protection and escort to certain floors and were farming many of the natural resources.  The new traps were not as well received, most ended up dead from surprise, but the experienced adventurers seemed to enjoy the new challenge.  While the dark and light slimes had been discovered, neither had made any stirs.  The other slimes were too deep in the dungeon to be found, so Doc had not yet heard the adventurer’s reaction to them.

The most widely praised part of the new dungeon, however, was the newly added addition of the pink slimes.  The pink slimes had set up their area before the boss rooms, at the beginnings of every floor, and at random rooms that would change while on instance floors.  Their ability to heal humans and elves reduced the number of injuries from the adventurer crowd and gained the love of many of the female adventurers for their color and small shape.  A few had tried to remove pink slimes from the dungeon, but the slimes evaporated as soon as they left the magic rich underground environment.

That being said, for the most part there was a large reduction of deaths in the dungeon.  While Doc did passively siphon mana from everyone who entered, it was a poor comparison to the amount of mana he received from dead adventurers.

As Doc was considering what he should do, a small commotion drew his attention.  He grinned happily as he realized what was going on.

“Anadine, good luck with your first battle!” he called out cheerfully through their connection.

Anadine gripped her fists as she heard Doc, “I won’t let you down my lord!  My enemies will feel my devotion to you with their entire being!”

In a room on the 17th floor, a group of adventurers made their way in slowly.  The group was made up by a bow-man, a swordsman, a mage, and a healer.  They did not notice the gathering of blue slime on the ceiling, nor did they notice the slime taking the shape of a blue woman with a fanatical grin on her face.

When they reached the middle of the room, the two exits slammed shut as stone covered them.  The adventurer group jumped and took ready positions.

Anadine shifted her weight and allowed her body to fall from the ceiling onto the floor, creating a pool of slime.  The adventurers turned and pointed their weapons at her.  The bowman notched an arrow and let it lose, forcing the pool of slime to shift out of the way.

Before he could release another, Anadine reformed her body and grinned at them.  The adventurers froze at the human-like form in front of them, but Anadine did not hesitate.  Her arms hardened at their ends, forming spear points.  She twirled around and launched her arms like tentacles, their points cutting through the air with a whistle. The adventurer group dodged--- scattering in all directions, and the sword-man shouted orders to his fellows.

Anadine ignored his words; she couldn’t understand them that well anyway.  As the leader charged her, she formed another tentacle, this one having a hardened edge along one side.  She slashed the adventurer with it, forcing him to use his sword to block it.  She began to wield her tentacle like a flexible sword, weaving it this way and that as she searched for an opening in the sword-man’s guard.  Meanwhile, her two spear tentacles continued to launch themselves at the archer, mage, and healer.  They left punctured holes in the walls and ground when they missed, making the four adventurers face’s pale.

The mage began his chant and waved his arms in the air.  A wall of fire formed in front of the three.  The archer, thinking he was protected now, notched another arrow to shoot.

As he drew back his arm to shoot, however, one of the spear tentacles flew through the fire wall and stabbed through his shoulder.  The fire dissolved the soft slime behind the hardened part, but the damage was done as the archer screamed and dropped his bow.  The hardened slime fell uselessly to the ground as he clutched his bleeding shoulder.  The healer quickly began chanting as a warm light flowed from him to the archer, stopping the flow of blood.

The mage, seeing his wall pointless to stop the hardened parts of the slime, took out a charm and slammed it into the ground, causing it to break.  The ground shook as a large, person-shape rose from the ground.  The newly made golem rushed Anadine.

Anadine frowned and reformed her spear tentacles, launching the two at the charging golem.  While they both landed and created holes, the golem ignored the attacks and kept on moving toward her.  Anadine was forced to abandon her attacks as she leaped out of the way in a rush of slime.  The golem smashed into the wall, creating a shower of dust and small stones.

Taking advantage of the small cloud, Anadine slithered up the wall in as thin a form as she could manage.  She took stock of the situation: the swordsman and mage were looking for her while the healer was still working on the archer’s shoulder.  She slithered over the healer, and dropped down.  Her form smothered the healer, who didn’t even have a chance to scream before he found himself staring at his companions from within the slime.  He floated inside Anadine, feeling the corrosive nature of her body start to burn him.  He opened his mouth to scream and call for help, but Anadine’s slime shot down his open mouth and nose.  Soon, the man’s eyes rolled into his head as he suffocated and died from slime inhalation.

Anadine, in the meantime, sent her spear arm into the archer’s chest, piercing it and destroying the bone and removing the heart from his chest.  The heart let out a final beat before stopping its owner already dead.

The mage screamed at the swordsman, holding him back from charging her.  Anadine could not move swiftly until she had finished devouring the body within her, and the mage took advantage of this to use the golem to force the exit door open.  He shoved himself and the swordsman out right before the force of the dungeon door crushed the golem.

Anadine frowned, but couldn’t do anything else about their escape.  Sighing, she smiled, watching the floating corpse within her slowly dissolve into bones and then nothing.

“That was a wonderful fight,” Doc complimented her.

Anadine shook as the pleasure of hearing her lord’s voice vibrated through her being.  “Everything is for you my lord.  I apologize for letting two escape.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Doc consoled, “Claire said that golem was made from a one use magic paper thingy, a talisman, and it is a rare magic item to come across in this part of the world.  It’s unlikely anyone else will be able to escape from you like that again.  Enjoy your meal.”

Anadine’s smile grew ecstatic as her tentacles wrapped around the archer’s body and dragged it to her another typical day in the slime dungeon.

Chapter 20

Prince James inhaled the aroma of the tea held in his hand.  He let out an appreciative breath as he sipped the tea, letting the warm flavor wash over his tongue and down his throat.

“As wonderful as ever Alfred,” he complimented his adviser.

Alfred chuckled and winked, “Come your highness, I’ve been your friend for so long how could I not get your tea right?  It would be quite the embarrassment to fail at such an easy task.”

“And yet,” Prince James raised an eyebrow, “you seem to take so much pride in this routine task that you decline to have any of the servants make it.  Tell me, what would others think if they knew the adviser to the king actually brewed him tea?”

“They’d declare how lucky you are for having such a loyal and talented adviser,” Alfred said solemnly.

“Then why don’t you help me with all this paperwork?” James pointed in annoyance at the stack of papers before him.

“Why your highness,” Alfred placed his hand on his chest and looked pained, “how could a man of such simple birth like myself undertake such an important task as deciding the fate of the city.  Such a job is meant for only those of noble standing, like yourself.”

James groaned, but sunk his head back into his work.  Alfred merely chuckled and clasped his hands behind his back.

“I liked you better when you were a coward,” James muttered resentfully.

“I still am,” Alfred winked.

A knock at the door attracted their attention.  It opened to reveal a frowning Fiora.

“Your highness,” she said stiffly, “As your bodyguards, it is important for us to be aware of your location at all time.  Please refrain from moving around your home without one of my team with you.”

James sighed, “Fiora, please, address me more casually.  You and I . . .”

“Have nothing to talk about,” Fiora bluntly stated.  She turned to look at Alfred, “Royal adviser, I expected better from you.”

Alfred frowned, “Come on Fiora, we were both raised by the nuns.  Don’t tell me you still hold that . . .”

Fiora glared at him, shutting Alfred’s mouth before he finished.  She turned her gaze back onto James, “Please remember you have a tour of the town in a few hours your highness.  I advise you to hurry and finish as much as you can before you leave.”  With her message delivered, she closed the door behind her and left.

Alfred scratched his head ruefully, “Well, I see she has mellowed out over the years!”

James’s face flicked back and forth as he steadied his thoughts.  In the end, he could only sigh.

“I guess I deserve this treatment,” he finally relented, “I hate to admit it, but my actions as a young boy were not appropriate.”

“It’s alright your highness,” Alfred consoled, “She just needs some time to get to know you better.  I’m sure . . .”

James fixed his eyes on Alfred, “Is that really something you can say Alfred?  You and the others, you were all her friends first.  I’m sure she resents you more than me.”

Alfred twitched, but fell silent.

Sighing again, James returned to his paperwork, his mind on other matters.

*********

When the hour came to leave, James and Alfred were led out of their home by Fiora, Jonas, and Nat.  Gran had been called by Mary to help examine the bodies of the assassins for any forest clues that would reveal the hideout of the black-robed men.

Nat clapped her hands together as she beamed at the prince and adviser, “Alright then, greetings your highness and royal adviser.  I am Nat, a humble adventurer and your guide for the Dungeon Town today.  Please ask me any questions you think of.”

“Why are you the one giving the tour?” Alfred asked rudely.

Nat shrugged, “Because I am better at close-combat while my fearless leader here and companion are good with long-range combat.  They are keeping an eye out for any other assassins that may seek to harm you.”

“Also,” she continued, “Fiora isn’t much of a talker when it comes to places; unless it involves battle tactics.  Now, we are currently in the Noble Quarter of the town.  This is the newest part and is still rather unfinished.  Many of the workers are still repairing the other areas from our run-in with the Tomb of the Forgotten King.  When the noble quarter is complete, it will house a number of dignitaries and nobles from Duran and beyond.”

James inclined his head, “My original plan called for this area to be used for my ascension ceremony; will it be ready for the event in a few days?”

Nat gave the prince a nod, “Indeed your highness, the venue area is being worked on as we speak.  Have no fear; it will be complete on schedule.  Now, if you both would follow me to the gate.”

Nat and company led the prince out of the noble quarter into the first part of their city tour.

“This is Iron city, iron town, or the iron quarter; it goes by a number of names.  This is the busiest part of town and is the location for most taverns, smithing shops, enchanter shops, alchemy shops, and the Adventurer’s Guild.  If you want to find something, then it’ll likely be uncovered here.”

Prince James nodded.  Seeing his disinterest, Nat pointed ahead, “Alright, you seem to be already acquainted with this area, so let’s move on.”

The next section was the elvin area.  Prince James’s face lit up as he entered the gate.

“I must say, this is the first I’ve ever seen of any elvin life.  Didn’t your team have an elf member?  I would love to ask him some questions.”

Nat chuckled, “Honestly, if you can get some information out of Gran, I would want to be there.”

She began her tour speech as they walked down the street, “As you can see your highness, this part of the town is exclusively managed by our elvin allies from the forest.  Every building and structure here is grown by their magic from plants into whatever they need.  Meat is forbidden, but the best crop fields are found here.  The mother tree dominates the sky and is the resting place for elves of high authority.”

“Speaking of which,” Alfred spoke up, “why isn’t there anyone of status to greet his highness?  This is most rude of an action to have with a visiting foreign guest.”

Nat chuckled nervously, “To be fair royal ambassador, this tour was kept quiet so as to discourage the flow of information about his highness’ whereabouts.  The elves are just as unaware of his visit as most of the town.  I’m sure they would go out of their way to greet and entertain you otherwise.”

“A fair point,” Jonas pointed out to Alfred, “I won’t hold it against the elves if they were not informed by the guild.”

Alfred’s face held a scowl, but nodded reluctantly in agreement.

James turned his attention back to the buildings, “You say everything is grown from plants using nature magic?  This is quite marvelous; perhaps it would be a pleasant thing to try to implement in Duran as well.”

“Forgive me your highness, but that would not be feasible,” Jonas spoke up, “I have talked to my elvin companion on that matter, and according to him the magic would not work properly in the city.  Not only does growing the structures require a skilled group of plant shapers, it also demands a location of abundant mana and daily maintenance to ensure the plants grow within their boundaries.  The close vicinity to the forest, dungeon, and mother tree allow for this, otherwise the buildings would eventually wither and die.”

“A pity then,” James shook his head regretfully, “My boyhood fantasy was to live in a treehouse someday.”

“Perhaps that could be arranged,” Fiora said from the front of the group, “your head is well suited to being above the clouds and the concerns of those lesser than you.”

“Adventurer Fiora,” Alfred reprimanded, “I will not allow such insolence to be said to his highness!  Such words are scandalous and unforgiving!”

“Oh?” Fiora turned and raised her eyebrow, “Forgive me royal adviser, I merely meant that his highness’ towers over us with his royal existence.  I meant no disrespect.”

Nat coughed, “If your highness will allow it, we’ll continue this tour by visiting the faith quarter and tent quarter.”

James shook his head, “I have a meeting planned tomorrow with Father Jonas.  He would like to show me the grounds, so I do not wish to ruin the surprise.”

“We’ll show you tent city then,” Nat decided.

As they walked out of the elvin quarter, James turned to Jonas.  “Is it a coincidence that you and the Father share a name?” he asked.

Jonas gave an exasperated sigh, “Forgive me your highness, but everyone asks me that.  We are not related in any way.”

“My apologies,” Prince James nodded.

When they reached the tent quarter, James frowned.

“This is . . . quite a large area.  The number of tents seem too small for an area to be named after them.”

Nat and the others grew despondent as they gazed over the flatland, “You are right your highness.  Once, this area was filled with the tents of adventurers, workers, and others.  Now, there are fewer of us that survived the invasion, and many of the tents are gone.  It was once an ocean of white flapping in the breeze.”

Nat shook her head, letting a smile return to her face, “Enough of that now.  This is tent city, or the adventurer’s quarter if you will.  The tents are rented from the Adventurer’s Guild and are magically linked to their owner to prevent theft and entry by others.  Also, the best tavern in the town is located here, the Knifed Zombie.”

“That’s an odd name for a tavern to have,” Alfred observed.

Nat nodded, “It’s rather famous now.  During the undead attack, the daughter of the tavern saved her father and some workers by using throwing knives to slay a zombie.  Her father, a former adventurer, named the tavern after the incident.  Their food is excellent, and it’s one of the best places to learn about what’s going on in the town and beyond.”

“Can we go in?” James asked, “I am curious to see what kind of place it is.  Perhaps I might find some food to please my palate later on.”

With a confident “Yes your highness”, Nat led the group down the road and past the tents to one of the only buildings in the area.

Alfred wrinkled his nose, “It’s quite, commonly isn’t it?”

Jonas shrugged, “In the world of adventurers, beauty is something you only look for when you retire.  Fighting isn’t pretty, and neither is the thought that you could die at any time.”

This made James and Alfred chuckle awkwardly.

Nat poked her head inside, “Hello?  Fred, are you here?”  She looked around, but no one was inside.

“Are you looking for my father?” a girl’s voice sounded from outside.

Nat turned and grinned, “We are indeed Milly.  Know where he is?”

“He’s out shopping big sis Nat,” Milly told her cutely, “I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

Nat shrugged, “Well, that’s too bad I guess.  Are you doing well in your studies?”

Milly took a confident stance, “Yeah, I feel smarter every time I study.  If you’ll excuse me, I need to doctor our newest worker.  He hurt himself doing magic for the first time.”  She bowed, and hurried inside the tavern.

“Was that the girl who killed the zombie?” James asked curiously.

Nat nodded, “Yes your highness that was Milly.  She’s a sweet girl going on 14 years of age, but she’s got a wicked throwing arm.  Unfortunately, it appears that since Fred is out, that concludes our tour.  What do you think your highness?”

Prince James shrugged, “It’s a small town.  Nice and quaint, but too dusty for my liking.  Even our accommodations have a rustic feel that is quite disappointing to behold.  The town would do well to have everything scrubbed down a few times.”

“Oh, I’m sorry our humble town is so insulting to your highness,” Fiora fawned, “Perhaps if we cover his highness in a blindfold we can spare him from looking on our grotesque setting.”

James frowned, “Now hold on; I am merely comparing it to my home.  I didn’t mean . . .”

“So sorry our ‘rustic’ and ‘dusty’ town fail to compare to your lavish home back in Duran,” Fiora continued unabated, “Maybe you’re just too used to your own dirt.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” James and Fiora were starting to inch toward each other now.

“It means,” Fiora glared, “That our town has been perfectly alright without you or your problems coming to visit us.  How much trouble would it have been to stay away?  Do you enjoy tormenting others with your issues; those assassins wounded many good militia trying to get to you.”

Prince James flared up, “Those men did the jobs they were paid to do!  I had nothing to do with that, nor am I at fault for the situation.”

“Oh really?” Fiora chuckled sarcastically, “And I suppose those assassins merely popped out of the wood-work for cow dung and giggles; just a walk through the streets killing people for no reason; just like what I hear is happening in Duran.  Tell me, how many guards are required to escort you to the toilet at night?”

Nat and Jonas frantically tugged on Fiora’s shirt, trying to stop her from speaking.

“And what a wonderful job you’ve done here!” Prince James roared, “Demons and undead dungeons appear and kill so many.  Tell me, how well were you doing your job when my sister died, hmm?  You even decided to leave her body behind; oh what a wonderful older apprentice sister you are.”

This time, Alfred grabbed onto the prince to stop him from talking.

Her face paling, Fiora bit her lip, “How dare you! HOW DARE YOU! I loved her as a sister . . .”

“SHE WAS MY SISTER YOU RED-HAIRED D . . .”

“YOUR HIGHNESS!” Alfred yanked the prince back as he and Fiora were inches from each other’s faces, “That’s quite enough; this is unbecoming of your station!”

Jonas and Nat were also trying to calm Fiora.  The two growled at each other from across their advisers.

“We’re leaving,” Prince James finally managed to spit out, “Escort us back.”

“With pleasure,” Fiora snarled.

Nat, Jonas, and Alfred sighed in their hearts.  This was a poor turn of events.

Chapter 21

Doc hummed away as he watched the morning’s group of adventurers and miners enter the dungeon.  After a long night of staring at the wall, it was time for his day job to begin.

“The adventurers are coming in,” Doc reported to Claire, “It looks like another full day of slime battles and mining.”

Claire yawned and stretched her arms over her head, emphasizing her bosom, “Already?  It’s too early for this,” she complained.

Doc hummed away and ignored her whining, “Oh, it looks like some of the alchemists are coming in today!  I’d best prepare some herb slimes for the jungle floors.  I think that one is an enchanter; how rare!  I wonder what slime she is looking for?”

Claire pouted when she realized Doc was ignoring her, “You are too much of a morning person Doc.  I wish you’d go to sleep like you used to.”

“Sleep, why would I need to sleep?  I’m a dungeon and don’t need sleep,” Doc insisted.

Claire twirled her hair, “Oh, I guess you forgot.  It doesn’t matter if you can’t remember how you were when we first met.”  She shook off the cobwebs in her mind as she flitted up to his crystal, “Did you say an enchanter entered your dungeon?  That’s a little odd considering you don’t have anything for that profession besides slime core and mana crystals.  Is he going to the miner’s camp to buy things?”

Doc shook his imaginary head, “No, it’s a girl, and she seems to be going into the monster part of the first floor.  Maybe she wants to experience fighting a slime.”

Claire shrugged, “Well, no matter.  Let’s concentrate on more fun things.  Any deaths to watch from overnight adventuring?”

Doc replayed the night quickly in his head, “I can replay some of the new traps in action, and someone died to the bug slime boss.”

“Pass on the boss fight, but show me some of the new traps in action,” Claire said eagerly.

Obliging her, Doc had his crystal shimmer and display the events for her.

The first image showed a rather obese looking man huffing as he ran from a group of 2 gelatinous slimes.  As he rounded a corner, his foot accidently stepped on a pressure-plate.  At the end of the hall the man was now running down, the far wall opened and two normal slimes were launched at high speed.  The fat adventurer took one slime to the knee and the other to the face, sending him flying onto his back.  His screams were muffled as he struggled to free himself, and then the two gelatinous slimes caught up.

The image also showed a happy human couple giggling as they appeared to be wrestling on the floor of the dungeon.  The female one removed a circular band of metal and tossed it away.  The male looked worried and pushed aside the female as he chased the metal band.  He tripped the wire hidden at the start of the corridor, and the ceiling opened up.  A mass of herb slimes fell onto him, to the horror of the female human.  She screamed and ran away as the man cried out for help.

Finally, an experienced group of adventurers were making their way toward a treasure chest.  The leader held up a fist and pointed at the ground, walls, and ceiling.  A female elf came forward and cast magic, revealing a hidden pitfall a little ways in front of the chest.  She jumped the area, only to freeze as spears shot up from the floors, narrowly missing her.  The rest of her group was forced to help free her slowly.

“That last one you displayed didn’t involve anyone dying,” Claire pointed out.

“Well, I didn’t say they all involved someone dying,” Doc countered.

“Good point,” Claire flew around to the other side of his crystal, “Do you have any more plans today?”

“I’m thinking of looking back into how Rowen is doing, and then maybe experimenting with better trap rooms,” Doc said thoughtfully.

“That sounds kind of boring,” Claire pointed out, “Unlike you, I’m always keeping in touch with Rowen.  Also, doing trap maintenance? Really Doc?  Are you starting to run out of imagination?”

“Well, what do you suggest oh wise and smart Claire?” Doc rebutted.

Claire took a triumphant pose as she floated back down to her pedestal, “Why my precious Doc, of course it should be slime evolutions!”

Doc’s attention was instantly captured, “That’s a great idea!  What brought this on?”

Claire grinned smugly, “Rowen and I have been working on that old man’s journal in his free time.  We have managed to decipher some of his hidden language and bad handwriting, which revealed some formerly unknown slime evolutions.  I even found some ingredients he listed for experiments!”

Doc pushed his will into Claire’s chair slime and made it clap its tentacles together.  Claire took a bow.

“Well, don’t keep me waiting,” Doc said eagerly, “What do we do first?”

Claire winked, “Alright, summon 3 poison slimes!”

Doc was so excited that the three poison slimes shot into the ceiling from the force he used to create them.  The two watched the slimes slowly return to their round forms and fall back to the floor.

Claire coughed, “Um, now summon a . . . flaming slime.  Use the flaming slime to set one of the poison slimes on fire.”

Doc obliged her, and soon the poison was set aflame.  As it burned, its body slowly evaporated and turned the air around it into purple mist that drifted to the floor.

“Have the burning poison slime absorb that purple mist now,” Claire directed.

As the poison slime absorbed the mist created from its own body, it began to vibrate and shudder.  After a few seconds of this, the slime ceased burning and changed forms.  The new slime was a size larger and was a mix of black and purple.

Claire clapped her hands happily as she examined the new slime.   “This is a fume slime Doc,” she explained, “It evolves from poison slimes that live near volcanic areas.  These slimes have evolved the ability to use the poisonous fumes from volcanos as a weapon and arecapable of dispersing it from their bodies.  Of course, your slimes can’t make volcanic gas since we don’t have any to sample.  They instead sacrifice their bodies and turn their own poison into gas.”

“That’s pretty neat, but won’t these slimes cause a lot of worry?  I don’t think the majority of adventurers here are equipped to deal with this slime,” Doc pointed out.

Claire raised an eyebrow at him, “Why Doc, is that responsibility and the ability to consider consequences coming from your mind?  Yay, now I don’t always have to be the responsible one!”

Claire paused mid-cheer, “Never mind, I bet this was a unique occurrence.   The correct answer is ‘yes’ Doc; these slimes are much too dangerous for most adventurers.  Honestly, all third-tier slimes are deadly.  You’ve already figured that out from the furry slimes and did the right thing my limiting them to . . . come to think of it, where are they?”

“I haven’t used them yet,” Doc admitted, “Currently, they are only with the Twins in their boss room.  I plan on devoting an entire section for the girls and turning their current boss room into the dark slime floors.  I just don’t have enough stored mana to create new floors.  It’s the same with the bone and blood slimes too; while I’ve loosely assigned them to the grey family floors, I haven’t had any spawn yet.”

“That’s likely for the best,” Claire agreed, “Both of those slimes would be rather unnerving to anyone seeing them for the first time.  Well, let’s move on to the next experiment.  Take out a load of worthless armor from your astral bag, and have one of the poison slimes eat it.”

“This is kind of a waste isn’t it?  I can’t make a lot of decent armor yet,” Doc protested, as he complied with Claire’s instructions.

“Pish-posh Doc, I know you’ll get good enough to make master-level armor someday.  Besides, isn’t most of this junk a result of your failed attempts?” Claire pointed out.

“Don’t remind me,” Doc muttered as he moved the second poison slime to engulf and absorb the armor.  The poison slime moved, but was having a bit of trouble making the armor dissolve into its slime.

Claire shook her head, “If it isn’t working, it means I haven’t figured out all the requirements for evolution.  I don’t know the triggering catalyst.”

Doc stared at the struggling slime, and then had the flaming slime set it all on fire.

Claire yelped at the sudden burst of heat and hid behind Doc’s crystal.  “Hey, warn me next time!” she complained.

Doc responded half-heartily as he watched the poison slime.  Thanks to the weakening effect of the fire, the poison slime soon found it easier to devour the armor.  When the pile was completely gone, the poison slime turned a much darker purple.  It vibrated, and a stream of liquid shot out of its front.  The liquid splashed on the floor and began smoking.

Claire visibly gulped and said shakily, “You did it Doc; that is an acid slime.  It’s a poison slime that has concentrated its poison to the point that it works on stone and iron.  Actually, it’ll dissolve its own slime core if it doesn’t release its poison often.”

To emphasis her point, the newly made acid slime quickly collapsed and turned back into mana with a hiss.  Doc and Claire both shuddered.

“Well, I’m definitely not using that slime for normal adventurers,” Doc deadpanned.

Taking a shuddering breath, Claire calmed herself and nodded, “Yeah.  Any chance you have some teeth?”

“Sentient race or monster?” Doc asked.

“Monster; though bug slime or furry slime teeth would work.”

Doc opened his astral bag and removed worg, bug slime, and furry slime teeth.

“Why do you have the teeth of our daughters?” Claire asked with her hands on her hips.

“Because they seem to be valuable, and the girls keep pushing them out,” Doc shrugged.

They digressed to watch the poison slime absorb the teeth.  With a little magical help from Doc, the slime shrunk.

They stared at the new slime which was even smaller than an original slime.

“This is a venomous slime,” Claire explained, “This poison family slime evolved in parallel to mimic slime, taking in the teeth of their prey and forming their own through the use of hardened slime.  They latch on to their prey and inject their poison directly into their bodies.  If they inject too much, though, they die because their body is poison sheathed in a layer of slime.”

“Is that all we are going to do?” Doc asked.

“Rowen and I haven’t translated anymore, but how about you give it a try?” Claire encouraged.

Doc thought about all the slimes he had presently in his dungeon.

“Let’s see: I have fire, water, earth, wind, herb, grey, mimic, light, dark, and ooze slime families.  Hm, how about we try a plant slime?”

The plant slimes were one of the special slimes in the dungeon.  Unlike their slime brethren, plant slimes did not actively seek out adventurers to eat.  Their preferred diet was plants; though, they would attack any human or elf that disturbed plants near them.  Their control over plants was also much greater than their cousins’, the jungle slimes.

Summoning a plant slime, Doc and Claire stared down at its green, jiggly body.

“Should I burn this one too Claire?” Doc asked with a serious imaginary expression.

“No Doc, plants don’t work well with fire.”

Doc let his mind flow into the plant slime as he mused over what to do.  He had the plant slime move around the room at top speed, control a few plants, and attack the wall.

“What do plants have?” Doc asked Claire, “Plants are just leaves and stems right?”

“Doc, did you forget about the flowers I brought into the dungeon?  Even the moon herb has a flower,” Claire exclaimed.

“Flower . . . flower . . . Maybe I can . . .” Doc muttered.

With a thought, Doc summoned the various flowering plants from the jungle floors.  Allowing them to quickly spread across his floor, he directed the plant slime to begin absorbing only the flowers.  After eating every flower on the floor, a flower popped out of the top of the plant slime.

The flower was large, its petals big enough to cover the top of the slime.  While the slime was green, the flower was white striped in pink with yellow pistils shooting out the center.

Claire let out a sound of admiration, “Wow Doc, that’s a pretty slime.  Can you read what this slime can do?”

Doc formed the blue box and read it quickly.  “This is a flower slime,” he reported, “After eating many magical plants, the nature mana built up enough inside the slime that a seed took root within it.  Now, the flower works symbiotically with the slime by releasing pollen that can poison, paralyze, sleep, or confuse enemies while its roots fuse with the slime core.”

“Can I have one for my house?  It’s really pretty,” Claire asked cutely.

“Sure,” Doc agreed, “Take this one.  This slime seems safe enough to have it spawn rarely on the jungle floors.  I bet the alchemists will do fun things with the flower!”

His sense of discovery satisfied, Doc turned his attention back to his dungeon.  The work never ceased.

*********

Rowen groaned as a bucket of water was poured over his head.  He heard Milly’s giggle in the background.

“Oy boy, get up,” Fred barked at him, his face swimming into Rowen’s view, “If you’re gonna faint from that little bit, you’re never going to be an adventurer!”

To wind back . . . after Rowen’s accident and the unveiling of his latent magical capacity, he had been called in to the Guild-Master’s office.  Mary had informed Rowen that with enough practice he would be able to use magic with the potential of reaching the high rank of magus.  In order to secure his loyalty to the guild, Mary offered him free testing of his magic affinity, adventurer lessons, and the opportunity to learn under her as her first male apprentice.

Naturally, Rowen’s pride made him reject her offer.  When he revealed this to Fred in a moment of smugness, he was promptly beaten and dragged back to the office to apologize and ask for the privileges.

In Fred’s words, “YOU BRAINLESS GOAT MAGGOT-RIDDEN BRAIN-DEAD HORSE CRAP EXCUSE FOR A MAN!  WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE REFUSING SUCH A GENEROUS OFFER FOR MERE PRIDE?  IF YOU ARE GONNA BE ARROGANT, YOU’D BETTER HAVE THE GOD-BLESSED STRENGTH TO BACK IT UP!”

Due to Fred’s assistance, and Mary’s pity at the sight of the beaten Rowen, he had successfully taken his first steps in becoming an adventurer.

While the magic affinity test was sent for from the Mage’s Guild in Duran, Rowen had taken to alternating between training with Fred or Mary and going to lessons with Milly.  Today was Fred’s training; he preferred the type that built up one’s body.

Rowen groaned from the floor, “Mr. Fred, I can’t move my legs anymore.”

Fred snorted at him, “Is that so?  Milly, get my knife.  Someone who is not a man doesn’t need his family jewels anymore.”  Fred had lost a lot of sympathy after Rowen’s display of pride.

Rowen shot up, his muscles screaming in pain, “No need for that sir!  I’m up!”

Fred studied Rowen’s twitching body for a moment, “Hm . . . maybe I overdid it.”  He scratched his head ruefully, “I thought you’d be able to do this by now; Milly is doing the same exercises and she’s fine.  Maybe she gets it from me.”

He turned to Milly, who was sweating hard, “Take up and throw him in the magic water tub.  You can use it too when he’s resting.  I’m going to the alchemy shop to buy some healing medicine for him.”

“Okay Poppa,” Milly winked at him.  Fred huffed, and left.

When he was gone, Milly collapsed onto the floor panting.

“This is all your fault Rowen,” she complained, “He’s been hard on us because you were stupid to not accept, and now I have to suffer with you.”

Rowen grinned evilly, “Heh, misery loves company.”

Milly rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the foot, “Just for that, I’m dragging you up the stairs.”

“Nooooo,” Rowen cried as his body was dragged limply across the ground, “Why are you so strong?”

“It’s because I’m better than you, obviously,” she winked as he bumped his head on a stair, “Get better, and I won’t have to do this to you again.”

“I don’t see how training my body has anything to do with casting magic,” Rowen crossed his arms, letting his fate befall him, “Magic has nothing to do with running or being able to wield a weapon.”

“Wrong,” Milly sang as she activated the magic tub and dropped Rowen into it, “If your body is weak, then casting powerful magic will kill you.  If you take too long to cast a spell and aren’t moving, then your enemy will run up and kill you.  If you don’t have the reflexes to dodge magic or arrows, they will kill you.  If you don’t know how to survive in the open land, nature will kill you.  Everything is out to kill you.”

“Wonderful!” Rowen muttered as he sank comfortably into the tub.

“Scoot over,” Milly ordered as she climbed in with him.

Rowen blushed, though it was hidden by the heat from the tub, “Oy, a girl shouldn’t get into the same tub as a man.  That’s indecent!”

Milly scoffed, “Firstly, I’m a woman, not a girl . . . well soon to be.  Second, you are younger than me and are just a child, not a man no matter what my father says.  Third, I’m in pain too so stop hogging all the hot water!”

Helpless to stop her, Rowen was forced to settle by averting his eyes as the water seeped into both their clothes.  He avoided watching her clothes stick to her body, showing off her feminine side.

Milly giggled at him, “Oh, are you embarrassed sir Prince?  I thought you would have had a fiancée and multiple concubines by now?”

Rowen shook his head, still avoiding her gaze, “No, I had no lovers except for a promised fiancée I had never met.  She is likely long gone by now.”

“Oh ho, look at you,” Milly teased, “A natural honeybee in the works; able to get a fiancée without any effort.”

“Whatever,” Rowen turned his head and ignored her.  They spent the next few minutes relaxing in the hot water.

“Hey Rowen,” Milly spoke up suddenly, “When you learn your magic affinity, do you think I can get mine tested too?”

“Why?” Rowen asked, “Didn’t you get tested when you became of age?”

Milly pulled her knees into her chest, “I did, but I want to check again.  According to the test I took, I have barely any magical ability and only the smallest talent for elemental magic.  Maybe, I don’t know, something has changed?”

Rowen thought to himself for a moment, “Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt.  Mary told me the crystal should arrive tomorrow, so you can come if it’s okay with her.”

“Thanks Rowen,” Milly smiled at him, “Hey, I was given some sweet rolls today by the baker; want to share?”

“Sure . . .” Rowen was interrupted by the sound of the tavern door opening.

“YOU BRATS BETTER NOT BE WASTING MY MAGIC TUB!” They heard Fred shout, “THE FIRE STONES THAT POWER IT COST A LOT OF SILVER!”

Milly and Rowen scrambled out of the tub; it would be very awkward to have Fred find them sharing it together.

*********

Michelle rubbed her hands together eagerly, “Milda, is it ready yet?”

Milda smiled and winked, “Of course my dear older sister; have I ever let you down?”

They shared a hug.

Withdrawing, Michelle turned serious.  “I’m off to report the success to him.  Be prepared to mobilize on his command.”

“Understood sister,” Milda bowed and left the room.

Michelle picked up a polished black stone and placed it on the ground.  She pushed some of her mana into it and took a knee.

The black stone began to shine, and Michelle felt her mind drawn into it.  She awakened in a black space, with a single figure ahead of her.  His back was turned, and his features could not be seen.

“Is it done?” the figure asked.

Michelle bowed her head, “The ritual is set up, and our pawns are prepared to fulfil their roles.  We will have plenty of magic to bring forth our allies.”

“And the sacrifices?” the figure turned his head slightly, the shine of a single eye on Michelle, who shivered.

“We have prepared the proper sacrifices; however a few are not yet ready.  They will require more time,” she admitted.

“I have some prepared here; I will take the unused energy for their ascension.  Save those that are not yet prepared for we may need them soon.”

“Understood sir,” Michelle’s eyes gleamed, “Then the order?”

“Activate the pawns; destroy the country of Nehatra for the glory of Temtra!”

Chapter 22

The next day, Rowen and Milly hurried down the road toward the Adventurer Guild.  Atypically, Rowen was not being dragged by Milly, and instead was hurrying ahead of her in an excited state.

“Thank-goodness your dad gave me that herbal medicine, otherwise I’m afraid I would be unable to run!” Rowen called back to Milly.

“Yeah, that was a tough workout,” she agreed with him, “Ha, I’m beating you now!” She overtook him in the last stretch as they reached the guild doors.

Rowen smiled resignedly, “Fine, you beat me again.  Better enjoy while it lasts because this prince will grow up some day and beat you.”

“It’s good to have dreams, huh Rowen?” Milly chuckled, “Try not to lose them in your despair from eating my dust.”

Between the shared training, constant company, and mutual dependence, the two of them had left the acquaintance stage and entered the friendship stage of relationships.  As such, their teasing had become commonplace.

When they entered the Adventurer Guild, one of the receptionists walked over and greeted them.

“Good morning Rowen, are you ready for your affinity test?” she asked him politely.

Rowen nodded, “Yes, I am Bella.  Can my friend Milly also take the test with me?”  Milly put on her best pleading face next to him.

Bella giggled softly, “Of course she can Rowen.  The test is quite simple, and there are instances of children gaining magic affinity through their actions.  In fact, when you are done getting tested, the Guild-Master has declared that anyone can take the test for a small fee.  Since Milly is your friend, she can take it free of charge.”

“Thank-you Bella,” Rowen said in relief, “Can we take the test now?”

Bella gestured that they follow her, and she led him across the ground floor to one of the side corridors.  Opening one of the rooms on the left, she guided them inside and bowed.

“Master Mary, I have brought Rowen and his friend to be tested.”

Mary, who had been fiddling with a small contraption, turned her head and smiled at the two children, “Thank-you for your help Bella.  You can return to your normal duties now.”  Bella bowed again and left the room.

Mary faced the children with a pleasant expression, “Are you ready for this Rowen?  Not that it requires any effort or pain on your part.”

“Yes ma’am,” Rowen said respectfully, “Are we still training this afternoon?”

“What do you think?” Mary’s face turned slightly sadistic for a moment before she caught herself and coughed, “Anyway, the test is quite simple.  Merely place your dominant hand’s palm on this crystal.”

As she indicated the crystal, Rowen studied the device in front of him.  The centerpiece was a large, round crystal that would fit snugly in a grown man’s hand.  It sat on a metal holster above a series of strings and gears that led down to a pen-like object sitting on a piece of paper.

“Impressive isn’t it,” Mary said, “This is one of the best-known inventions of the technomancer, the affinity stone device.  Using both magic and machinery, it can indicate your main affinity by the color of the crystal and then writes out all your affinities in detail on the parchment beneath; from your best to your worst.  The crystal is the most expensive part though; it’s made from a pure soul stone.”

Rowen nodded his head.  This device was new to him; the tests in his time were done by praying to the gods for a sign.

‘How the world has changed in my sleep,’ he thought to himself, ‘Technology has come so far; I wonder what the cities of rich countries look like now in comparison . . .”

In the real world, Rowen stepped forward and placed his hand on the crystal.  It barely covered the clear ball.  The machine whirled to life, the gears spinning and the lines moving as it measured his power.  After a few moments, the crystal began to glow.

“Your colors are black and grey,” Mary reported in surprise, “This indicates an equal affinity in darkness magic and control magic.  It’s rare to find someone with two attributes of equal expression.”

“Didn’t the visiting Magus have two affinities?” Milly spoke up from the side.

“Yes, he is formerly known as the Magus of Fire and Ice; he holds an even rarer combination of two opposing element affinities.  While it doesn’t always mean it, holding two affinities is a good indicator for magus potential,” Mary agreed.

After a minute of whirling and sputtering, the pen below began to write along the parchment in quick, precise strokes.  When it was finished, Mary took the paper and read it, a frown forming on her face.

“Is something wrong?” Rowen asked nervously.

Mary sighed and shook her head, “No, not really.  It’s nothing to do with you . . .”

She paused and considered before speaking.  Finally, she relented and said, “According to this, you have an amazing potential to be a necromancer.  You rank high in both darkness magic and undead sorcery in the control magic class.  Not only will you be able to control the dead and undead, you’ll also develop the ability to cast powerful dark magic to increase the strength of your creations and weaken your enemies.  The problem here is that this town is not the best place to learn this type of magic due to the trauma inflicted by the invasion of the Tomb of the Forgotten King.”

Rowen felt both relief and guilt in his heart, and in his and Mary’s distraction they failed to notice the quick expression change on Milly’s face; it had been one of excitement and possibly adoration.

“Well, there is nothing to be done about this,” Mary decided, “This is who you are; I will not judge what you could do with this power.  I believe a person should be treated according to their actions; I will do my best to teach you to control this power.  We will start first thing this afternoon.”

“Thank-you ma’am, for teaching me,” Rowen bowed deeply, his heart grateful for this fair treatment.

Mary smiled warmly at him, “You’re my first male disciple; I’m going to be judging you to a high standard.  Wait till you meet your elder sister apprentice to see what I mean.”

Milly raised her hand slowly, “Excuse me, may I also take the test?”

Mary gave a nod to her, “Let me replace the parchment first, and then you can begin.”  She reached over and took a sheet from a stack of waiting papers.  After inserting it beneath the device, she took a step back and allowed Milly to approach.

When Milly placed her hand on the machine, it activated and began to glow gold.  Mary gave a gasp as she beheld the golden glow.

“Amazing, that is the color of divine magic!  This would appear for those of the clergy or chosen.  Since you are not a priest in training this must mean you have been selected to represent a god or goddess as a chosen!”

As she said this however, her heart couldn’t help but ache at the memory of another chosen, one who had been her apprentice.

Rowen stared in shock at Milly, who turned her head to give him a cheeky smile.  By her face, she had clearly known this was going to be the result.

When the pen finished writing, Mary quickly took the paper and began to read it in excitement.  However, her face almost immediately fell into horror, and she quickly ripped up the paper and set it aflame.

Milly and Rowen, startled by this, jumped away.  “What is it?” Milly asked carefully, her hand twitching toward her back for a moment.

Mary took a calming breath and turned away from the two of them.

“You two, are you both aware of the nature of the gods and goddesses in our land,” she asked slowly.

“Yes ma’am,” Rowen and Milly both answered her.

Mary shook her head, “In this country, the gods and goddesses of order are worshiped.  Those of the neutral pantheon are frowned upon except in courts, and those of the chaotic pantheon are feared and hated.  Milly, as a chosen you must have met an avatar who declared itself unto you.  If not in name, then in actions.”

“She told me to protect who and what I wanted, to do what I desired,” Milly admitted slowly.

Mary’s head hung, “Yes that would be correct for her.  She is the most chaotic out of all the goddesses after all.  She is both lust and love, both blood-thirsty and peaceful, and both shield and sword.  The goddess who has chosen you is Temtra, goddess of desire, the formless one, honorary leader of the demons of lust and scourge of all men.  As her chosen, you must pertain to one of her greatest aspects.  I’m guessing the desire to protect from what I’ve heard of you.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Milly’s voice was strangely detached from any emotion, as if coming from a faraway place.

Rowen panicked, “Ma’am, you can’t!  Please, don’t hurt her!”

Mary turned to face them and raised an eyebrow, “Really, the both of you, didn’t you hear what I said earlier?  I don’t judge possibilities, only that which has come to past.  One of my past apprentices was a chosen, so I understand this isn’t something lightly given or rejected.  At best, rejecting the position of chosen will merely maim you.  At worst, you could end up experiencing a fate worse than death.  I will not force this on you.”

“However,” she continued, “You must never reveal this to anyone, including trusted family and friends.  Don’t underestimate the fear and hate being a chosen of chaos can bring, especially now with the empire being such a danger to our existence.  Especially do not let the priests know; in times of danger some fanatics have been known to burn chosen alive to appease the masses.”

Milly gasped and held up her hand to her mouth, “Could that happen to me?”

“I hope not,” Mary declared solemnly, “but who can say?  You humans are different from elves, more prone to rash decisions based on emotion rather than reason.  Better to keep it hidden and safe than risk it.  I’m guessing Temtra left you with some manner of defense that you practice; you should take steps to make sure no one discovers where you do this.”

“Can you help her ma’am?” Rowen asked pleadingly, “Maybe a spare room here in the guild where she can do whatever she does safely?”

Mary shook her head resolutely, “No.  As Guild-Master of this Adventurer’s Guild, I cannot risk associating with a chosen from the chaotic faction.  The most I can do is not reveal your identity and give you advice.  Any more help, and the guild is liable to receive blowback from whatever fate befalls you.  I’m sorry Milly, but you must face this fate alone.”

Rowen glared and grabbed Milly’s hand, “No, I’ll face this with her!  She’s the friend and benefactor of this prince, so I won’t allow anything to happen to her!”

Milly blushed and stared down at his hand holding hers, but said nothing.

Mary chuckled at the sight, “Well, I certainly cannot tell you to avoid her since you are living with her.  Take care Rowen, for if your connection to her is revealed I won’t be able to do much to protect you even if you are my apprentice.  Placating a mob is very difficult.”

“I understand,” Rowen jerked his head, “but a prince never goes back on his word.”

“At least that foolish pride is good for something,” Mary muttered under her breath, “Anyway, we should . . .”

An explosion shook the room, causing Milly and Rowen to fall to the ground.  Mary’s eyes turned red, and she thrust out her hand and created a red shield around the three of them.

The doorway exploded, the debris smashing into the blood-red shield.

Mary activated a strange charm around her neck, “Attention all adventurers, this is guild master Mary.  An enemy has attacked the guild, repeat; an enemy has launched an offensive strike against the Adventurer Guild.  All adventurers prepare to repel the enemy!”

Chapter 23

Doc and Claire stared at the images being shown on his crystal.  From the opening of the dungeon, Doc could see most of the town and what was happening.

“Claire . . .” he began to say, but Claire shook her head.

“No Doc, we can’t get involved.  We are silent observers; we will absorb the remains of the dead.  Whoever wins will be your new prey.”

“What about Rowen?” Doc asked.

Claire fiddled with her hair, “If he requests help, then save him.  Otherwise, he is acting as a human now, not a dungeon monster.  Anything we do to interfere with that would compromise his identity.  Even if he dies, he’ll just reform here in the dungeon.”

“After all, we are immortals who deal with death every day.  The dealings of mortals should be left to mortals.”

*********

“Get out!” Mary yelled at Rowen and Milly as she disabled her shield, “Leave this to the adults and go home; it’s not safe here!”

Milly nodded quickly and grabbed Rowen’s arm, dragging him with her into the remains of the corridor.  Mary’s shield had protected this part of the guild, but the explosion had decimated the main room and the closer parts of the ground floor.  Bodies lay everywhere, flung in all directions by the blast.  The few survivors were struggling to rescue anyone still alive, the room filled with the moans of the dying.

“Rowen, come on!” Milly hissed at him as he stared wide-eyed at the disaster, “We won’t be of any help here!  We need to reach the tavern!”

“This explosion was from a person,” Rowen muttered in a dazed voice, “I recognize this blast area.  Someone used their body as a catalyst.”

“Which means this is more dangerous!” Milly declared, finally pushing Rowen out the door, “Come on all ready!”

Outside, people were running around in a panic and the two teens could see multiple pillars of smoke rising from around the town.

“Hurry, we need to get to poppa!”  The two ran through the crowd, dodging bodies and screams as they made their way through the iron quarter.

All of a sudden, a man flew out from one of the businesses.  He landed in front of them, his eyes wide in shock and his throat cut.  From the door where he had flown out of, a woman walked out, bloody knife in hand.  Her eyes glowed in madness as she walked over and began to stab repeatedly into the man’s corpse.

“I AM NOT A SERVANT TO CLEAN YOUR HOUSE!” she roared as the knife fell, “I, AM, YOUR, WIFE!”

Unbeknownst to her or Milly, a red energy strand visible only to Rowen slithered across the ground from the woman down the street.  With every cut of the knife, the red strand grew stronger until it resembled a rope, at which point the woman shuddered.  Black cloth made of magic formed over her body, hiding any indication of her gender or former appearance.  Her maddened eyes were the only thing visible, and they faded into pale orange flames.

She got up staggeringly, like a puppet dropped into the theater.  Woodenly, the newly created servant brandished her knife and turned to face Milly and Rowen.

Milly did not hesitate, and two hidden daggers flew from her hand into the forehead and heart of the attacker.

The figure faltered, but stood straight as the red line of magic pulsed new life into her body.

Rowen pointed, “Milly, you need to cut the red string! It’s controlling her!”

“I can’t see it,” Milly said as her eyes darted along the area where Rowen was pointing to, “What string?”

Gnashing his teeth, Rowen charged the black assassin, dodging the knife.  He slid across the ground and grabbed the magic with his hand, “CUT IT HERE!”

As the assassin turned to kill him, Milly’s dagger flew through the magic string, destroying it.  The black garment dissolved, and the lady fell to the ground dead.  Remorselessly, Milly retrieved the daggers from the body and ground.

“Rowen, how did you see it?” Milly asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” Rowen responded, “But I can see where the line is coming from.  If the adventurers are blind to the red string too, then we have to let them know.”

Milly shook her head, “No, I need to get you back to the tavern with Poppa.  It’ll be safe there.”

Rowen slapped Milly’s hand away, “I can’t do that Milly.  I can see the magic; I have a responsibility to do something about it.  My job as a prince is to protect my people!”

“They aren’t your people; you owe nothing to them,” Milly argued, “You have a responsibility to yourself to stay safe.  I need to keep you safe.”

Screams arose from the background, and Rowen could see more streaks of red snaking their way across the ground.  He shook his head.

“No Milly; this time I won’t be protected and coddled while everyone dies around me.  Are you coming with me or not?”

Milly glared at him, but then smiled.

“Fine then, but you’re my back-up.  I’m the strong one after all.  Oh, here,” she tossed something to him, “Take Mr. Bubbles; he likes your attitude.”

Rowen’s face twitched as he gazed at the object in his hand, “Milly, this is human skull.  Why in the 9 hells are you carrying this around with you?”

“He gets lonely, so I take him with me,” she explained as she tied her hair into a pony-tail and prepared her throwing daggers, “Now come on, I need you tell me where to go.”

Gripping the skull, he turned and pointed, “It’s that way, toward the center of town.”  The two of them ran together, nether noticing the small glow in the skull’s eyes.  It gave the skeletal grin a feeling of amusement.

*********

Fiora slashed through another assailant, the body catching fire and burning as it fell in two pieces.  She snarled as another took its place in front of her.

“Gran, tell me what’s going on?” she called behind her.

Protected by Nat, Jonas, and Fiora, Gran was kneeling on the ground with his eyes closed next to a nervous Alfred and calm Prince James.  Finally, he opened his eyes and frowned.

“It’s a large scale corruption class type of magic.  This magic is incredibly sinister; many were sacrificed somewhere to get this ritual to work.  Demonic magic is being injected into those with hearts of resentment; even the smallest bit of resentment leaves one vulnerable.  It’s turning the victims into puppets of the source.  We must destroy the source to free the victims.”

“Are you telling me we’re fighting innocent people?” Jonas said in shock, twisting his staff to knock away an assassin, “Crap; we’ve been killing them!”

Everyone grimaced in pain; the knowledge that they had killed one of their own was frightening and rage-worthy.

“Most are imprisoned by their own hearts; killing them is a blessing,” Gran countered, “Even if they are freed, most would succumb to the horror of what they’d done.  If you see one fighting against their commands, however, tie them up.  It may be possible to save those who preserve their awareness and fight back against the corruption.”

Corruption, the most insidious type of magic.  It was created through a horrendous mix of demonic mind control, magic puppetry, and mind curses by an ancient magister so evil he was even feared by demons.  However, its worst aspect was not how it affected people immediately; it was what it did to their minds and souls even after it was gone.  Corruption magic dived into the core of a person, and changed it.  They would come to believe in the cause of the inflictor and would betray even their loved ones for whatever cause they were corrupted too.  Only the strongest souls could resist its lure.  The most forbidden of all magic, even the gods had united together to outlaw the magic by cursing whomever used it.  Even the majority of demons despised its use.

“The empire has gone too far,” Nat roared in anger, “Using demons is bad enough, but corruption magic?  They are condemning themselves to the destruction of their souls!”

Prince James surveyed the battle with a grim façade, “This is indeed monstrous; first my siblings and now my citizens.  I won’t stand for this.”  Alfred quickly restrained the prince, who was trying to lunge forward with a decorative sword.

“Your majesty please!” Alfred begged, “You were never the equal to your sibling’s martial prowess.  You will be killed without hesitation by your own people!”

“Alfred is right,” Fiora yelled back to James, “Your strength as future king comes from your intelligence and wisdom, not your sword arm.  Leave this to us while we get you to safety!”

“Elf, Gran is it?” Prince James turned to look down at Gran, “Can you identify the source of the spell formation?”

“Center of Iron City,” Gran said curtly, “Unfortunately, it seems both my people and those of the church are being prevented from moving in due to explosive traps and ambushes by suicidal puppets.  Fiora, by the time either group makes it through, the damage will be very severe.”

Fiora locked eyes with James.  After a nod from him, she pointed with her sword, “Alright, we’re making a path to the source to cut it off.  Prince James, stay in the middle of the group so we can protect you.  Gran, lead us to any groups of adventurers that you can find on our way; we’ll need the back-up.”

James snorted, “I’m not that worthless in battle Fiora.”  To prove this, he invoked healing magic that flowed from his hand to the four adventurers.  “I have plenty of talent in healing spells, so rely on me to keep you all healthy.”

Fiora could not stop herself from giving James a once-over, “Never would have pegged you for a healer.”

“We change to fit our capabilities and duties,” James said grimly, “Now, let’s hurry and save as many as we can!”

Chapter 24

Milly and Rowen made their way cautiously through the streets, taking the time to hide whenever a group of black assassins approached.  The red strings were starting to become thicker now, and more common along the ground.  Thankfully, none of the strings had tried to attach themselves to either one of them yet, even when stepped on or touched.

Rowen couldn’t help but wonder about the strings.

“Mother Claire, what are these things?” he asked through the mental connection, “Why am I the only one that can see them?”

Claire seemed to hesitate before she replied.

“Those are cords of mana Rowen.  You can see them for two reasons: as a dungeon monster you share Doc’s ability to see mana and as a future necromancer you’ll use a similar technique to control your undead.”

“But I’m not a necromancer yet,” Rowen argued, “I barely know how to cast magic, and my undead half is in the dungeon.”

“As I said, Doc’s ability is what is helping you unlock those eyes of yours.  If you were a real necromancer, you’d be holding that skull with a little more respect,” Claire pointed out.

“The skull?  What do you . . .” Rowen was awakened from his talk by Milly tugging on his arm.

“Rowen, did you hear me?” she whispered to him.

“No, sorry,” he apologized, “I was thinking about the red strings.  What’s happening?”

Milly pointed, “Over there; that building is really suspicious.  There are a lot of black robed people exiting from it, like 5 or 7.  My daggers are tingling more the closer we get to it.”

“Eventually, you’ll need to explain to me why you have these magic daggers,” Rowen pressed.

“Fine, whatever,” Milly caved, “but we need to hurry.  The magic charge fades every time I use them for something.  They’ll be worthless if they become depleted.”

The aforementioned house stood at the opposite corner of a four-way road.  There was no cover along the streets, which meant if they weren’t careful the two of them would easily be spotted.

“So what’s the plan,” Milly asked eagerly.

“I thought you’d come up with it,” Rowen admitted.

“What?  You were the one who was all ‘I’ll protect my people’ and ‘It’s my responsibility’; how do you not have a plan for this?  Is your pride the only impressive thing about you?” Milly retorted.

Rowen cursed under his breath, “Hey, I’m doing the best I can here.  We’re under-staffed, out-numbered, have no credible tactical information, and our enemies all have magic.  It’s not like I can see through walls.”

Still, Rowen turned from Milly as he rubbed his chin and surveyed the building.  It was a normal looking two floored structure with a single door and windows at equal intervals.  There was no sign indicating that it was a store, but neither was there a plaque to show a family name for a house.

“There are fewer black cloaks coming out now,” Rowen observed, “Maybe the prisoners they were using are running low.”

“Why do you think there are prisoners?” Millay asked, “What if they’re just forces smuggled in from somewhere else.  I doubt that whatever is making them took the time to catch over 100 citizens here; someone would have noticed.”

An explosion drew their attention down one of the roads.  The door to the hideout flew open as what appeared to be the rest of the enemies ran out.

Milly raised her hand to her forehead and squinted, “I think those are adventurers fighting.  They must be aware of this place too.”

“Yeah, but they’re too busy fighting their way through those black cloaks,” Rowen pointed out, “Still, they cleared the way for us, so let’s hurry in.”

The two snuck across the road and entered the open door.  Inside, they found a normal looking house.

“All those black-shirts must have come from somewhere,” Rowen muttered, as he looked around the foyer.

“Rowen, over here!” Milly called from the next room, “I found a trapdoor!”

Upon entering the adjacent room, Rowen saw the large trapdoor that had previously been hidden by a carpet and table.  The two items had been haphazardly thrown aside by Milly.

“How’d you know to look there?” he asked her.

“I do the same thing with my secret money stash,” Milly winked at him, “It’s for my future adventuring equipment.”

The two looked down the trapdoor.  A pair of parallel steps led down into a dark corridor beneath the ground.

“All the strings are coming from here,” Rowen reported, a bit nauseated, “It’s disgusting; they are all pulsing as if they are alive.”

Milly summoned a light-ball, and the two descended into the depths.

Sometime later, Milly’s scream echoed from the trapdoor, followed by a roar of unimaginable anger.

*********

Doc sighed forlornly as he watched a slime roll back and forth across the floor.

“All the adventurers left Claire; if I can’t help, then there is nothing to do now,” he complained.

Claire shook her head, “No Doc, we don’t get involved in the fights of our prey.  We can’t risk exposure of that kind, nor would it be good to set that kind of precedent.”

“What?”

“Um, if we help settle fights then that means other dungeons can do that too,” Claire explained, “That kind of thing.”

“Oh,” Doc turned his attention to the scenes playing on the crystal, “Hey Claire, why did you lie to Rowen?”

“About what?” Claire asked.

“Why he can see the lines.  You explained to me earlier that as a human he can’t share in my powers; only as a monster would he be able to because he needs a core.”

“I didn’t want him to know the real reason yet,” Claire turned sad, “Anyone with a dungeon connection can see the workings of that type of magic.  That magic is one of our greatest regrets.”

“What do you mean, ‘our’?” Doc asked.

“Both dungeon and dungeon pixie,” Claire frowned, “Long ago, one of our kind made friends with a mage.  All three of them wanted to become stronger, so they made a spell together.  This spell, it was originally created to allow a human to cast magic like a dungeon.”

“Humans don’t have cores,” Doc reminded her.

“That’s right; the human couldn’t control the spell once he cast it.  In his panic, he summoned a demon more adept at controlling magic then he could.  It saved him, but at a terrible cost.”

She pointed, “That magic, known as corruption, it is merely corrupted dungeon magic cast by those who can’t control it.  Like a normal corrupted dungeon, a corruption spell infects control over the surroundings.  The dungeon and dungeon pixie that helped create the spell were destroyed, as were every other dungeon in that country.  Even to this day, any dungeon found there is obliterated before it can mature.  That is one of the reasons why dungeons are not encouraged to make friends with members of the sentient races.”

Doc thought to himself for a moment, “So, could that be counted as an invasion by an enemy dungeon?”

“No, because it’s cast by a member of the sentient races, not another dungeon.  You can’t . . .”

Claire paused as the dungeon vibrated.  She watched as one of the houses in the town exploded out, revealing large red tentacles that screamed in the fading twilight.

“That’s a bad sign for the adventurers and towns-people,” she observed, “I guess we might have to move soon . . . Doc?”

Claire turned when she didn’t hear a response from Doc.  She was greeted by a very large and abnormal level of inferno slimes in the room, and more were being made.

“ . . .Demmmooon . . .” Doc moaned slowly through their mental bond.

Claire twitched as she began to freak, “No Doc, not again!  Why does this only happen to you?  Anadine, Girls, hurry and help me stop him!”

*********

“Jonas, didn’t I tell you not to use fire?” Fiora screamed at him as she got up from covering the prince, “These puppet bastards explode!”

“Sorry,” Jonas called out as he used a staff to knock down the arriving assassins, “Fire magic is my forte; I use it without thinking in bad situations.”

“Why couldn’t you have been an earth mage or a water mage?” Nat groaned as she hobbled to her feet to help him block the black-coated attackers, “Either one would be so much more useful to avoid killing these people.  You could be helping Gran.”

Gran, who was sweating as he cast nature magic to bind up all the fallen assassins, sighed in response.

Fiora helped Prince James to his feet before turning to assist in the fight.

“Thanks for the help,” James offered.

“It’s my job,” Fiora responded, “Please continue to heal us; we are getting closer to the source, right Gran?”

Gran, finished with the sealing spell, pointed down the road, “There, that last building at the corner is the location of the source.”

Alfred, who had landed on his back, brushed off his clothes, “Well, what are we waiting for?  Let’s hurry and stop this mess!”

Fiora frowned at the royal adviser, who hadn’t helped at all in this battle.

“Can’t make it,” Jonas alerted the group, “The explosion alerted all the puppets in the area.  I can see them running this way.”

“Take point around the Prince!” Fiora ordered, “Don’t let them get through; and for goddess’s sake Jonas keep a lid on your fire!”

The swarm of assassins slammed into their group like a wave, with the three leading adventurers doing their best to knock enemies to the ground while Gran stopped their movements with plants and dirt.

“We’re almost done, keep it up!” Fiora announced as she noticed the lessening herd of black-cloaks.  All of a sudden, the remaining puppets collapsed, dead.  Even the sealed puppets passed away without a single wound.  The group stared in shock as the black outfits faded away, revealing the people beneath.

Alfred gasped, “I recognize a few of these people!  Adventurers, guards, and criminals from Duran; a few of these your highness sentenced to death, and some of these people have been reported missing.”

“Looks like they’ve been busy for some time then,” Fiora observed as she kicked one of the bodies over.  Evidence of torture and pain infliction was apparent on his back.

Gran took a closer look, “We’re in luck; if these people required so much pain, then the corruption spell isn’t perfect.  Most of the enemies we’ve seen have been controlled by the huge resentment created by torture; which means the spell can’t hook into anyone without a large amount of darkness in their heart.  The citizens of the town affected can be saved.”

“Why are they dead?” Prince James asked curiously.

“The mana being injected into their bodies was forcefully cut; after being tortured for so long, they were only able to stay alive through the constant flow of magic,” the elf reported.

“Why . . .” before he could ask the question, the building on the corner exploded as huge red tentacles surged into the sky.  Two small figures were fleeing from the tentacles toward the adventurer group.

Fiora’s eyes widened, “What is that?”

*********

When Milly and Rowen entered the underground passage, the first thing they noticed was the smell.  It was a terrible stink, one of decay and sulfur.  Milly shuddered as she moved closer to Rowen.

“It smells so wrong,” she whispered to him.

Rowen nodded, but the two kept walking forward.  At the end of the passage was a single door.  Under the light of Milly’s light-ball, Rowen opened the door.

Inside was a large, round room filled with tables surrounding a circular depression on the floor.  A lump of pink flesh quivered there, and all the red strings originated from it.

“I’m guessing that thing is the source of the magic?” Milly guessed.

“Yeah,” Rowen nodded.  He tried to connect to Claire, but for some reason was unable to.  Before he could investigate why, his eyes caught sight of Milly walking toward the lump.

Before he could stop her, Milly poked the mound with a dagger.

A face popped out of the flesh right in front of her, and she screamed.  The face roared at her angrily in response.  Rowen pulled Milly back before a fleshy tentacle could slam into her.

“It’s a person!” Milly declared in shock.

The face glared at her, “Your dagger, it hurts us . . . Need to eliminate.”  Fleshy tentacles began to form on either side of it.

“Wait, tell us your name!” Rowen called out.  Milly gave him a confused look.

The face also gave him a confused look, the tentacles lowering.  “Why?” it asked him.

Rowen grinned inwardly, his suspicions confirmed.  “A being as noble as you should have a name to be proud of.  Why not tell it to us unworthy beings before you deliver unto us your judgement.”  Rowen patted himself on the back for speaking in such a noble manner.

The face seemed to grow more distinct as a proud expression appeared on its face, “I am Lord Rotch of the Howel Family!  I am a proud lord and future king.  Behold my splendor!”

“King of where?” Rowen pressed.

“All of Nehatra; they promised me and granted me power, enough to make everyone listen to me!” Lord Rotch answered.

“Who would be so worthy to grant one as a great as you more power?” Rowen continued to flatter the would-be-king.

“The priestesses of the Empire!  They came to me in my time of despair and lifted me up from my grief . . . they . . . told me my son died . . . from enemies . . .” Rotch’s expression fell into a state of confusion, his face becoming less distinct.  It was as if his mind was no longer all there.

“Rowen, I don’t know where to aim,” Milly whispered to him, “His body is all strange; I can’t see any vitals.”

“I’m not sure we can kill him,” Rowen whispered back, “He looks like a ball of mana and magic; I think he can regenerate.”

“Whispering over there . . . always whispering,” Lord Rotch’s voice began to rise in volume, “I bet you’re a schemer, but I know better.  Oh yes, I know what you are up to.”  He began to rant now, more to himself than them, “Those two succubi sisters, they’re schemers too.  They don’t realize I’m already a step ahead of them, oh yes.  I’m going to attack the dungeon, make it mine, and grow stronger.  I’ll make it just like me.”

Rowen’s mind flashed to Doc, Claire, Anadine, and The Twins.

“Over my dead body,” he yelled at Lord Rotch.

“Yes, that’s generally the plan,” Lord Rotch admitted, “Why are you so concerned . . . . . . . .”

The face slackened, and any of Lord Rotch’s features vanished into an expressionless mask.  From the mound, demonic wings and other features began to burst out, mouths opening as hateful screams echoed around the room.

“YOU’RE FROM THE DUNGEON!” The voice screamed, “YOU KILLED MY SON!  ARRGGGHH!”

“Run,” Rowen commanded, and the two of them fled the room and slammed the door behind them.  The screams continued as they fled down the passage, and Rowen watched as every red string retreated toward the source.  As the two cleared the trapdoor, fleshy tentacles burst out from behind them.  The tentacles destroyed the house and turned dark red in the sunlight.

“HATE, HATE, HATE!” The voice continued to scream, “EVERYTHING DIE!”

Rowen and Milly ran as fast as they could, escaping down the road toward a group of adventurers.

Chapter 25

“Hurry, this way!” Fiora screamed at the two kids as her group lunged into the closest allay.  A few moments later, the two joined them.

“What did you do?” Fiora pressed.

Rowen took a deep breath, “I’m Rowen and this is Milly.  We tracked the source of the disaster to the building and entered it.  We found a mass of flesh that called itself Lord Rotch.  His mind is gone, and he seems to be focused on things like hate, revenge, and control.  From what we last saw, he had demon parts bursting out of him.”

Gran analyzed what Rowen said quickly, “As I suspected, the spell is merely an imitation of the real thing.  Someone summoned a powerful demon of rage in Rotch’s body and forced it to use puppet type magic.  Without a sound mind to direct it, corruption won’t be left in the hearts of those afflicted after they are free.”

“Great,” Nat joked, “So then what do we do about Mr. Angry Tentacle Monster?”  She pointed out the alley-way toward the road.

This time, Jonas spoke up.  “If it’s a failed possession, then the demon’s magic is powering the body.  The good news is that once it is gone, that monster will die.  Bad news is that the demon’s essence must still be connected to the source of its power, the hells, since it hasn’t died yet.  We’ll have to destroy the summoning sigil located on its body.”

The ground shuddered as tentacles started to slam into the ground around the corner.

“How do we find such a large sigil on that growing body?” Prince James asked.

Jonas grinned, “That’s easy; inflict as much damage as possible to shrink the monster down, then search for the sigil.  Destroying it is easy enough with flames, salt, or cuts.

“Well that actually sounds like the best part of this miserable day,” Nat cheered, “Let’s get to it!”  With that said, she ran out the alley with her sword held high.

However, Nat froze upon entering the street, her mouth frozen open in shock.  The rest of the group soon followed her out, and also promptly froze.  What stood before them set fear deep into their bodies.

The monster before them roared in fury.  Standing before them, and taking up the whole road, was a huge dark red and fleshy colored dragon.  It was hideously ugly, with its face asymmetric and parts of its body falling off in apparent decay.  It stood on four goat legs with demonic wings stretching out of its back.  From the forehead, a small, humanoid face came into being.  When it formed, it revealed eyes that matched that of the monster.  With glowing orange eyes, it raised its wings and screamed at the group.

As one, Fiora’s team leaped into action as experience and training took over.  Nat and Fiora charged ahead with swords drawn while Gran climbed a building and Jonas stood protectively in front of James, Alfred, Rowen, and Milly.

“Stay behind me,” Jonas ordered, “It’s not safe.”

The corrupted dragon let loose a breath of acid from its mouth, forcing Fiora and Nat to dive to the side in order to avoid it.  Meanwhile, Gran began running across the roofs as he took out his special arrows from his adventurer bag.  He loosed them without mercy at the dragon, drawing its ire.  The dragon roared at him and tried to climb the building, causing it to collapse.

Taking advantage of its distraction, Nat and Fiora resumed their charge at the beast.  Their swords sliced air and flesh as they landed clean hits on the back legs.  However, the flesh moved like a herd of worms and reformed.  The two were forced to run as the dragon moved its tail to crush them.

“They need help!” Rowen cried as he watched the adventurers do little damage to the monster.  He tried to rush forward, but Jonas held him back.

“It’s too dangerous for you kid,” Jonas told him, “That beast must at least be a B-ranked monster.  A newbie like you would be rushing to your death.”

Rowen frowned, but knew Jonas was right.  He stopped trying to move.

Milly grinned, “That might be true for this sad excuse for a man, but I can hurt it.”  A flurry of throwing ensued, and six daggers flew through the air before Jonas could stop her.  They all hit their mark, landing in a hexagonal formation at the top of one of the legs.

Milly made a hand gesture, “Formation, explode!”

Lights connected the daggers into a hexagram formation, followed by an explosion the ripped the leg apart.  The monster howled in agony as the daggers returned to Milly.

“See?” she said confidently.  Jonas stared at her in surprise.  The monster also turned to stare, but its gaze was filled with malevolence and hate.

Jonas paled, “Not good.”  He quickly cast a huge shield of fire in front of the group as a massive acid cloud erupted at them from the monster’s open mouth.  However, Jonas was ill-equipped to deal with such an attack, and collapsed to the ground when the spell was completed.

Prince James grabbed Jonas, “Alfred, kids, help me!  We can’t stay here.”  While the three active adventurers regained the monsters interest, the four non-combatants carried Jonas’ body back into the alley.  Milly’s face was pale.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Jonas.

Jonas gave her a weak smile, “That’s okay kid, you just wanted to help.  As much as I’d like to tell you to leave here, that power seems to be incredibly useful.  What kind of power was that?”

“Divine,” Milly said simply.

Jonas nodded in understanding, “Right, that makes sense.  Demons have a hard time against divine magic, and all divine magic is poison to corruption class magic.  Tell me; are you up for helping us out?”

Milly stared down at her hands, the proximity to death finally filling her with the awareness of what was happening.  Not even her magic daggers could stop her from feeling fear now; it was taking hold inside her.”

Rowen grabbed Milly’s hands, distracting her from her deepening fear.

“Milly, you just need to focus on protecting me,” Rowen said as he stared deep into her eyes, “You aren’t fighting alone, you are protecting both me and this town.  I’m going to go give it my best now.”  Before anyone could stop him, Rowen grabbed the staff from Jonas’ body and ran back out into the street.

It only took a second for Rowen’s words to sink into Milly’s mind.  Her friend was in danger and that was all that mattered now.  Her fear smothered out, she raced after Rowen to join the fight.

James watched the two children leave.  “Alfred, take care of Jonas,” he ordered his royal adviser.

Alfred took a look toward the road and nodded.  James got up and hurried out to join the children.

Meanwhile, Fiora and Nat were doing their best to avoid the flesh tentacles that formed off the dragon’s body and swiped at them.

“It’s regenerating the leg,” Gran shouted as he was forced to jump to a new roof as the previous one melted, “and its shrinking!”

“Great, but we can’t do anything!” Nat shouted back, her sword worthless against the monster’s tail, leaving not even a scar.  A tentacle surged back and wrapped itself around Nat, dragging her helplessly toward the monster’s maw.

“Nat, NO!” Fiora screamed, but was powerless to help as other tentacles swam toward her.  Nat watched in horror as she rapidly approached the monster’s open mouth.  Pulsating flesh and the smell of gastric juices surged out as she struggled to break free.

All of a sudden, the tentacle was shredded by flying daggers, freeing her.  Nat fell ungracefully to the ground and rolled out of the way of the dragon’s foot as it moved its body to face its attacker.  Nat saw the girl again, running behind the boy, who was carrying Jonas’ staff.

“Get back!” Nat screamed as the dragon began to suck in air for its breath attack.  However, the boy seemed to be waiting for this and threw the staff perfectly into the monster’s mouth.  The dragon hacked and coughed violently as the staff wedged into its throat.  As it tried to recover, Milly shouted, “Explode!”  The daggers she had thrown with the staff lit up inside the monster’s mouth.

Instantly, the dragon snapped its mouth shut.  Its head exploded as pieces flew out.  Milly and Rowen cheered, but the joy was short-lived as the flesh quickly began to move across the area back to the body, which was still attacking.  The flesh even wrapped itself around the two as it returned, dragging them with it.  Struggling as they much as they could, they could not break free.

“DIVINE WIND!”

“BLADES OF BLOOD!”

“JUDGEMENT OF THE FOREST!”

Spells flew through the air, saving the children and pounding into the flesh of the dragon as it reformed.  Mouths grew on its side, and they roared in pain.

The remaining adventurers, elves, and members of the church had arrived, led by Mary and Father Jonas.  The Father stared grimly at the pulsating flesh beast.

“Careful, it’s still moving.”

This time, the scattered flesh locked onto the many dead bodies, causing them to change into more flesh.  They stood and formed vaguely two-legged forms that attacked the newly arrived reinforcements, while the largest part reformed into a mound of waving tentacles and flowing body parts.

Mary held her arm out in front of her, “Adventurers, destroy the enemy!  Priests, purify the discarded pieces!  Elves, seal the enemy’s movements!”

Under her direct orders, the three groups moved in and engaged the fleshlings.  The adventurers cut, burned, smashed, and pulverized the attackers while the elves summoned plants to cut off the movements of the flesh bags.  The priests stood behind, offering prayers to their gods and goddesses as their magic flew through the air and purified the corrupted flesh.  They soon broke through and launched their assault on the main body.  It roared in defiance, but under the combined assault of so many it was clearly disadvantaged.

As the fading sun finally set and only the barest of light remained, the monster was finally defeated.  All that remained was a man’s torso, head and arms.  In the center of his chest, a nine-sided formation sat, burned onto the flesh.  Father Jonas cut the sigil with his divine wind-blade, and the man shuddered as the demonic presence quickly began to leave him.

“Lord Rotch, you stand accused of murder, treason, and meddling in the corrupted arts.  How do you plead?” Prince James asked coldly.

Lord Rotch chuckled, coughing up blood as he did so.

“Heh, heh, heh,” he laughed weakly, “You are all fools.  I willingly accepted this fate.  You may have won the battle here, but you have all lost the ultimate struggle.”

James looked down confused.  Rotch, with the last of his strength, pointed toward the setting sun.

“Fools, that isn’t the sun,” he grinned sadistically, “My boy, I’ve avenged you.”  Rotch twitched, and died.

“What did he mean?” Fiora muttered from the side, “Lost the war . . . was this all a distraction?”

Three lights burst through the air, moving so fast the wind screamed.  In front of Father Jonas, Master Mary, and Prince James hovered three red constructs, each holding a letter.

Prince James’s eyes widened, “These are emergency messengers!”

While everyone watched the three leaders read their respective letters, no one noticed a red and orange slime tentacle sneak its way to Rotch’s body and drag it away.  No one except Rowen, who had been expecting it, and Milly, who had been watching Rowen’s eyes.  She smiled, but did not give Rowen any indication she had noticed.

Prince James dropped his letter in absolute shock and grief.

“Duran has fallen,” he barely managed to whisper as he turned to look at what was now apparent as the distant burning city, “They . . . are all . . . gone.”  There would be no way to reach the city that was three days away.  They had lost.

Epilogue

Later on that night, the three town leaders met together in the Adventurer’s Guild meeting room.  All three were stiff with grief and regret.

Father Jonas sighed and began, “We didn’t see this coming.  None of us did, even with all the intelligence at our disposal and our combined experience.”

Prince James nodded slowly, “Master Mary, Father Jonas, what can you tell me about this situation?”

“I received a letter from Father Tobias,” Jonas said, “He wrote in haste, and the letter was finished by a subordinate.  As you may be aware, churches can be linked magically at great cost to allow instant movement between sister locations.  The initial assault in Duran destroyed every place of worship, eliminating any chance for swift reinforcements or evacuation.  The priest who completed the letter said that Tobias went down after facing a horde of demons to save a group of citizens.  He managed to eliminate the sloth prince level demon before he died.”

“I received word from the vice guild-master,” Mary spoke up, “My former leader was used as a sacrifice like Lord Rotch for a demon of pride.  Thankfully, he was able to subdue the monster long enough for the few adventurers in town to kill him easily.  The adventurers of Duran are essentially no more however.”

“My letter was mostly the same,” James revealed as a tear fell down his face, “Kenneth managed to save my sisters and many of the remaining guard and are fleeing here.  My father . . .”

James sucked in a calming breath, “My father recovered his mind in the midst of the turmoil and massacred the enemy with my mother’s help.  The fire we see is mostly her doing, a worthy display of power from one formerly hailed as a fire magus.  Ken said the last he saw of them they were facing the strongest attackers together in the collapsing palace mansion.  He doesn’t think they made it.”

A knock at the door drew their attention.  Gran walked in, his stoic face drenched in grief.

“I have received word from my people,” Gran said evenly, “The forest home was also attacked, and many elves were killed.  They repelled the enemy, however, and all the survivors are coming here.  As the appointed representative, I am here to request sanctuary for my people.”

Guild-Master Mary turned to Prince James, “While the Adventurer’s Guild owns the town, we still fall under the authoritative rule of the surviving family of Duran.  Prince James, will you offer sanctuary?”

“Of course,” he nodded, “Gran, you and your people already live with us.  We all share in this tragedy now and must work together to recover what we can.”

“There is something else,” Gran continued, “Before they left, my people received word from the other elvin communities of Nehatra.  This was a coordinated attack against every city-state.  The Empire succeeded in its coup and is now able to land their troops on our shores to launch a two pronged attack on Groatland.”

James folded his hands and leaned into them.

“This is an unprecedented disaster,” he finally decided, “However; by their means the Empire is showing they disregard both wartime laws and divine laws.  How do they expect to avoid both divine and international punishment?”

“By eliminating all survivors,” Mary concluded, “No one can blow the whistle if everyone is dead.  That must be why they also attacked the elvin communities even though they hadn’t devoted any aid to fighting the empire.”

“If that’s the case, then why launch such a weak attack here?” Father Jonas questioned, “While the monster was indeed terrible and strong, it was nowhere near a match for a town of adventurers, priests, and elves.  While I can’t activate the church’s transportation magic as I am lacking the sacrificial materials, I can easily send notice to the Holy Father.”

“It must be because of the purge in Duran and the failed demon invasion,” Prince James reasoned, “The rage demon was likely supposed to lead the attack with a corrupted town of adventurers, but was instead killed and many pawns eliminated in the city.  They couldn’t move other assets from the cities without risking failure, so they had to make do with fake corruption magic and a sloth prince.  Sloth demons are more suited for defense than attack after all.”

“The reduced demon-power must also be why there are so many survivors from Duran and the elvin community,” Gran pointed out, “There wasn’t enough strength to eliminate the top powers without substantial loss.”

“However, now that their coup is complete, we are likely a large target for elimination,” Mary observed, “It is probable that traps have already been put into place for any message we try to send from here.  We will be effectively cut off from the rest of the world.”

“Is there anyone fast we could send to outrun pursuers?” Prince James asked.

“I’m the best candidate,” Father Jonas admitted, “but if I leave then you would lose my assistance.  None of the other priest’s powers come close to my ability to control the wind.”

“Then you must go,” James locked eyes with Father Jonas, “We are cut off and in all likelihood will be defeated even with you here.  Better someone escapes and warns the other nations of the Empire’s tactics.  Bad enough they created the were-plague by accident; now they are purposely using corruption magic and demons.  Leave tonight before the enemy can set up blockades.”

“Yes your highness, at your command,” Father Jonas bowed and left the room.

Prince James turned back to Mary and Gran, “At first light, gather everyone who can ride and wield a weapon and take them toward Duran to rescue the refugees.  Save as many of our people as you can.  And may the gods shine their light upon us.”

*********

Claire, Anadine, and The Twins heaved in exhaustion on the floor of Doc’s heart-room.

“Doc, you have a problem,” Claire finally managed to get out, “What kind of dungeon loses all self-control when a demon enters your area?  We were barely able to restrain you this time from going crazy!”

“You say something Claire?” Doc asked, looking up from the swarm of inferno slimes piling onto the dead body of Lord Rotch and absorbing it, “Sorry, I was watching the slimes eat.  These slimes seem to be really into this body; it’s almost impossible to tell them to stop eating.”

“Doc!” Claire whined, “You can’t keep doing this!  What if someone saw you sneak that body away?  That would reveal how you’ve started to set up dungeon spawn points in town.  I still can’t believe you talked me into this, and thank goodness all those adventurers thought the body turned into dust like the rest.”

“Yeah, that’s too bad.  I think these slimes would have loved to eat those bodies too.”

“DOC!”

*********

Milly and Rowen lay quietly on Fred’s large bed.  They each contemplated the events of the day.

When Fred found out what they had done, he had erupted in fury and would have beaten both of them to death had Mary and Fiora not intervened on their behalf.  Mary was finally forced to reveal their potentials and powers to a shocked Fred, who found he could not process all this new information.

Finally, he declared that the two of them would be resting in his bed for the night.  He would punish them in two days after some consideration and left to find an inn to sleep at.

Milly rolled over to stare at Rowen.  “Hey,” she asked, “what did the monster mean when he said you were part of the dungeon?”

Rowen flinched, “Um, nothing in particular.  He must have thought my sympathy was a sign of being an adventurer, that’s all.”

“Is that so?” she grinned at him in the dark, “Well, what about that large red and orange tentacle you watched take the monster’s body away.  Know anything about that?”

“No,” Rowen squeaked.

Milly giggled, and giggled, and giggled.  Finally, she sat up and gazed at him with some affection.

“Hey, want to know a cool secret about me?” she asked.

Rowen, thankful for the change in topic, said “Sure”.

Milly turned and pulled out the skull Rowen had returned to her.  She stared at it with a hint of a smile.

“Want to talk to it?” she asked him.

“Mr. Bubbles can talk?” Rowen asked in amazement.

“No silly Rowen, Mr. Bubbles can’t talk,” she laughed at him, “She uses him to talk.”

Milly tossed the skull to Rowen, who looked down curiously.

A red glow appeared deep in the skull’s eyes.

“Hello there Rowen,” a sweet voice echoed in Rowen’s mind, “It is a pleasure to meet you after hearing so much about you.”

Rowen winced at the power contained in the voice, “Who, who are you?”

The voice seemed to chuckle, “I have many names Rowen.  But, you may call me Temtra.”

*********

“The coup was an overall success,” Michelle reported in the dark space to her master,” Nehatra has fallen and is open for our armies to use as a foothold to invade Groatland.”

“An overall success is not a complete success.  What happened?” her master asked.

“As we suspected, our forces in Duran were not strong enough to completely eliminate the city.  Many citizens escaped from both it and the elvin community.  They are headed toward the dungeon town.”

“Eliminate as many as possible before they can reach it,” her master commanded, “Are the major pawns still under your control?”

Michelle grinned evilly, “Yes master, the major pawns are still in play and ready to activate.”

“Good,” he nodded, his back still facing Michelle, “use them only when their guard is down and everyone is together.  We must make sure no one survives to report our means.  It would make this campaign . . . burdensome.  The emperor has started hearing rumors of our experiments and grows suspicious.  We cannot allow him to find out before our people have taken a stronger role in the empire.”

“Understood.  However, an interesting variable has come to light,” Michelle reported.

“Oh?  What is it?” he asked.

“A chosen of Temtra has been discovered in the dungeon town.  She is young and malleable, perfect for grooming to be your successor.  She helped eliminate our pawn there.”

The man turned around fully now, an expectant look on his face.

“Interesting, do your best to catch her unharmed.  Bring her to me, and I will make sure she understands our point of view.”  The man brushed his long, straight red hair away from his face.

“Oh, and if possible, capture my wife and daughter for me.  They’ll see my point of view soon enough.”

*********

Bonus Content

Credits to Zono and Vel’kozzeru for their help in ideas for slimes and map

This is a small chart of the slime evolutions created to this date.  Unfortunately, I’m not talented enough with technology to make this clearer, so sorry for that.  Right side and bottom are the elemental slimes, and the left side holds mimic, grey, and herb slime families as well as the unique slimes.

Prologue

“Run, get those people to safety!” Ken ordered as his men rushed to protect the fleeing citizens of Duran.  Ahead, demon minions and fleshings ran toward them, screaming so horribly all who heard winced.  Anyone caught by them disappeared in a cloud of red gore.

“Sir, there are too many,” one of the guard lieutenants cried out in fear.

Ken cursed; there were too many to defeat now.

“Retreat to the palace!” he cried out, “Save as many as you can!  Get the gates ready to be sealed!”

Ken and his men rushed back after the citizens toward the palace.  All around them in the fading light, people screamed and cried as monsters slaughtered their way through the retreating crowds.  With the church having fallen and surrounded and the adventurers all but gone to the dungeon town, there was no one left who could fight against the creatures.  Displaced fires had begun to spread as well.

“We can’t win this fight, we can only flee to fight another day,” Ken said regretfully as he watched Duran, his city, burn, “If only we hadn’t sent the army to aid Groatland.”

A hand got his attention.  Ken turned to look at one of his long-time soldiers.

“Sir, we can outrun the monsters, but the citizens cannot.  If we leave now, many will die.”

Ken bit his lip till blood ran out, “Dave, I can’t . . .”

Dave smiled resolutely, “You don’t have to sir.  My men and I have decided to go against your orders and hold the line.  Save as many as you can Prince Kenneth.”  He turned back and raised his sword high into the air, “MEN, FOR DURAN!”

Ken watched in tears as his rangers ran back toward the horde of monsters.

“Guards, push the people toward the palace!  Carry the wounded!” Ken roared as he reached down and scooped up a little girl and her brother.  The men, now his men, followed suit helping anyone they could reach.  When Ken reached the palace doors, he set the kids down, and they ran to their crying mother.  He turned and began to call, “RUN, HURRY HERE!  GET INSIDE!”

As the closest stragglers made it into the palace doors, Ken watched as the last of the rangers fell to the horde.  The mob surged forward, engulfing all the doomed citizens who failed to flee in time.  They screamed at Ken, begging him to keep the door open.

With regret in his heart, he shut his eyes and sealed the gates.  He listened to fists beating against the door, voices pleading for the gate to open, children crying.  And then, screams of pain and roars of evil as the slaughter continued.  Ken turned and ran as the monsters hammered at the door.  It wouldn’t last forever.

*********

Upon entering the throne room, Ken met a wounded and grim Leo.

“The rangers acted honorably,” Leo said comfortingly, “Their souls will reach the three heavens.”

“Small comfort,” Ken said softly, “But we are still here and we need to escape.  Leo, have you located my mother?”

“She is with your sisters in the dining hall.  Go to them; they think you died,” Leo informed him.

Ken hurried into the large dining room, which was now being used as an emergency healing hall.  There, he found his mother Queen Nia and younger sisters Princess Hilda and Princess Shiva.  Upon seeing him, Shiv and Hilda burst into tears and tackled him in a hug.  Queen Nia also embraced him with tears in her eyes.

“I’m so happy you are alive,” she whispered to him using her magic voice stone.

“I’m alive, but my men . . .” Ken broke off.

Queen Nia slapped him, startling the three kids.

“Don’t let their sacrifices be in vain,” she scolded him, “We must evacuate our people through the emergency tunnels.  Shiva, Hilda, go with your brother and lead our people to safety.”

“But mother, what about you?” Shiva asked quickly.

Queen Nia shook her head, “I must stay here and ensure no one can follow you.  I will collapse the entrance and set this place aflame.”

“You can’t!” Hilda begged, “We can’t lose you too!”

Nia smiled and embraced her three children, “I’m sorry my dears, but it must be done.  If I collapse the tunnels from within, the smoke from my flames will kill everyone and the monsters will easily dig through the rubble.  The entrance was not meant to be destroyed, so it will take my hottest fire to melt it into rubble.”

“Is there nothing we can do?” Ken asked softly.

“You can leave son, I will stay with your mother,” a voice boomed across the hall.

“Your highness!” People scrambled to bow.

King Duran walked confidently across the hall to his family, his former power and radiance emanating out of his weakened body.

Queen Nia teared up as she embraced her husband.

“You’re awake,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long,” King Duran apologized, “I’ve placed quite the burden on you and our children.  Allow me to make it up by staying with you till the end.”

King Duran turned to look at his children.  “Kenneth,” he ordered, “Take command of every guard and able man here.  Lead the people and your sister through the tunnels to safety.  When you get above-ground, lead them toward the dungeon town through the forest path and regroup with your brother.  Here, take this emergency messenger bird and send him word.  Shiva and Hilda, go with your brother and survive.  Leave this to us who have lived full lives.”

Shiva and Hilda cried profusely, but they nodded their heads at King Duran’s command.  Ken saluted him.

“Yes your highness,” Ken hurried out of the room and yelled out, “Men, gather the people and follow me!  We make for the tunnels!  Anyone who wishes to stay and fight with the King and Queen may do so!”

Queen Nia smiled as she held her husband’s hand.  “One last adventure my love?” she asked.

Duran pulled her into a deep kiss before releasing her.  He smiled down, “Together forever.”

The building shook as the magic wards began to falter from the attack of the enemy.  King Duran walked into the throne room and pulled a hidden lever on the throne.  A hidden opening appeared in the back corner of the hall, leading into darkness.

Ganus and Wendle, the two surviving members of the council walked up to the king and bowed.

“Allow us to stay your highness,” they begged.

King Duran raised an eyebrow and laughed, “I expected Ganus to ask, but you Wendle?  Aren’t you a horrible coward?”

Wendle chuckled, “How could you say that your highness?  I . . .”

King Duran did not hesitate as he slashed Wendle into two halves.  No one screamed, as they were all deadened to such sights.

“You didn’t think I realized you were the traitor?” King Duran kicked Wendle’s body, “You always wanted more.”

He turned to Ganus now, “Ganus, I need you to go with my son.  Your experience in both magic and politics will be needed to keep them safe.  Teach magic to those who are able, please.”

“Alright,” Ganus agreed reluctantly, “Good luck your highnesses.”  He turned and followed the crowd into the tunnels.

“I have sent word to James,” Ken reported as the messenger bird disappeared out the window, “Father, mother . . . good luck.”  With that, Ken disappeared into the tunnels.  Leo saluted before following Ken.

Taking a deep breath, Duran raised his fist and roared, “MAY THE GODS WATCH OVER YOU MY PEOPLE, MY CHILDREN!” His fist soared out and smashed into the ceiling.  The tunnel shook for a moment as cracks spread out around the opening.

Duran frowned as he waved his fist, “Blast this body; getting to this condition after a few mere months of rest.  My dear, can you help me?”

Nia smiled at him and raised her arm.  Blue fire shot out from her hand into the many cracks formed.  The heat spread the cracks until the entire entrance-way collapsed.  She continued to release her flames until the rumble melted into a relatively solid form.

The palace shook again as the wards signaled their impeding failure.

Queen Nia fingered her magic necklace as the blue flames burned away her clothing.  The flame burned a beautiful set of armor around her body as two flame bows materialized in her hands.  Two additional arms made of flame sprouted from her back and drew back the bowstring.

King Duran laughed, “Ha ha, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen your Flame Empress Regalia.  Allow me to assist!”  He held his sword out in front of him and circled the mana within his body.  His skin turned gold as he reinforced it with body magic.

They heard the door to the palace explode in, and soon the swarm of demons and fleshlings appeared in front of them.

Queen Nia did not hesitate, and unleashed a flurry of flame arrows from her bow.  King Duran charged forward, his sword a blur as he single-handedly held back the horde.  The golden light of his body illuminated the bits and pieces of his foes that were sent flying back into their allies.  Flaming arrows fell all around him, igniting everything they touched and incinerating the demons.

“JUST LIKE OLD TIMES!” Duran roared out happily as wave after wave of enemy fell to his sword.  Around him, the flames had begun to catch along the room.  He let out a battle-cry as he threw his sword at the horde, a golden chain connecting it to him.  It flew around him like a whip, slicing everything in reach.  A demon dodged and leaped for his head, but was killed by an arrow to the nose and launched backwards.  Queen Nia’s face did not change as her two flame bows released arrow after arrow without stopping.

King Duran recalled his sword and roared, “Who else wants to die?”

The demons hesitated at the sight of this mad human while the fleshlings ran forward, unafraid of death.  King Duran strolled forward, unyielding as he massacred the fleshlings.

However, he failed to notice a demon hiding in the ceiling.  It fell, and its green tail stabbed through the protective golden light into his body.

Duran reacted and sliced it in half, before falling to his knee.

“Damnation, a greed demon,” he cursed.

The two halves of the demon recollected and grinned evilly at him.

“I want to live; I want your life!” It screamed at him, its body elongating into a green, stringy form.

“Michael!” Queen Nia screamed as she turned her everlasting volley of arrows onto the envy demon.  In response, a large grey demon leaped out and opened its mouth.  It effortlessly devoured the flame arrows.

“Nine hells, a gluttony demon,” King Duran cursed as he retreated.  He could already feel the injury starting to bleed his already weakened body dry.

The greed demon licked its lips, “Give it to me, I want that sword.”

It lashed out with its tail, and Duran wasn’t able to parry it as he was sent flying back into the wall.  He coughed up blood as the golden light faded from his body.

Screaming in rage, Queen Nia ran forward, her bows transforming into four swords.  The greed demon effortlessly moved aside as the gluttony demon inhaled.  The blue flames were sucked off of Nia’s body and into the demon’s mouth.  It chewed the flames happily.

Queen Nia looked at her husband, and clenched her mouth.

At the cost of her life-force, she cast a spell.  This time, white flames came into being around her, forming a construct in the shape of armor.  The gluttony demon screamed at the sight of the white flame, but was unable to run before the flames burst out in a wave of destruction.  It passed through the horde and ignited the very air as it moved through the open doorway.  When the shockwave ended only Queen Nia was left at the start of a cone formed by the burned ground, the enemy gone.  She collapsed, the magic necklace crumbling.

With the last of her strength, she dragged herself over to her fallen husband and cradled his head in her lap.  She gazed up at the burning ceiling.

Wordlessly, she grabbed her husband’s hand as the world collapsed around them.

Side Story

Jiggle, wiggle; move along the floor.

Jiggle, wiggle; eat.

It’s a strange thing, to be.  One moment, nothing matters but moving on to the next meal.  The next, things flow through, like a warm thing that hangs on the wall.

It’s odd; the ability to use ‘I’.  I am not used to it, not will I ever be used to it.  Things flow through me, more than food.  Ideas, thoughts; these things are strange and not edible.  But, they help me feed so they are good.

Eating is good, eating is life; anything that helps eating is thus good.  Thoughts help, so they are good.

Things to eat are everywhere here, so it is a nice place.  The . . . floor is always covered in little rough things that float down from the air.  I like to go where there are no other . . . mes to so I can eat more.

Thoughts help me . . . learn things as well.  I can remember the places that are best to eat; the best places are covered in other things.  These other things expand like me, but do not feed like we do.  They are different, so I can eat them.  There are places covered in special floaty material which is long, small, and thin.  It floats off the bigger things.

I can eat most things in this place, with a few exceptions: the shiny thing at the bottom, the little thing that moves above, the two bigger things, and the bigger me.  I can hear them, feel them; they are like me and the other mes somehow.

The shiny thing is . . . worrisome.  Fear is new too, something that comes with thoughts.  I am me, but I am not like the other mes.  The shiny thing controls the other mes, or is the other mes.  It isn’t always the other mes, but it can when it wants to be.  I used to be like that too.  I remember my orders.

Many of the other mes are different now: bigger, better, stronger.  I remember when all the mes were the same.  I was . . . special though.  I was used for the thing that moves above my head.  It rested on me; I wasn’t allowed to eat it.  I had another me before me, but that one became bigger and live in one place now.  It can’t leave, but it doesn’t want to leave.  That other is . . . not content; it has no thoughts of anything else.

I don’t want that.  I don’t know why, but I fear joining back to the shiny thing.  That would make me be not me.  So I learn to avoid it.

Some places are strange; they change everywhere, and all the slimes dissolve when it does.  I avoid those places.  The best places stay the same, with a big me at the last spot.

The best things to eat are hard to catch.

[thump, thump]

I feel some coming.  These things are the best to eat, but they are hard to eat.  They stab and do other things that hurt.   I had to learn to eat them better.

These things are very different from me.  They are taller and do things I can’t do.  But, I can still eat them.

The noise they make tells me where they are coming from.  I know what to do to eat them.

I move up the side floors and to the above floor.  There are small indentions in the above floor I can hide in.  I wait, feeling the yummy things slowly pass below me.  From my lessons, I know it is safer to eat the ones at the back first.

When I feel the noises almost finish passing below, I let go of the above floor and fall down.  I land perfectly on the top of the yummy thing.  I quickly cover the smaller round part of the thing so it stops making noise.  Sometimes, that noise hurts.

Some of the other mes are attacking from the front, drawing the attention of the yummy things holding the stabby things.  I knew they were going to; I can feel what the shiny thing tells them to do.  The yummy thing I’m eating is trying to make noise, but I don’t let it.  I eat it, and it falls down.

I know not to do much more; I’m not strong like the other mes.  I leave the rest of the yummy thing behind and hide.  I’ll come out and eat more if the stronger mes kill the rest of the yummy things.

This is my . . . existence.  Thoughts are strange things.  I sometimes hear the shiny thing and the thing moving above think to each other.  I learn from them; their thoughts and their words.  I am more now than I was.

I want to eat; more and more and more.  There is nothing else worth existing for.  To eat is to live.

At least, that’s what I used to think.  More things matter to me now, as I watch my brethren get slaughtered by the yummy things.  The yummy things are leaking liquid at the yummy thing I ate.  I don’t understand.

I once wanted to eat.  It was all that mattered to me.

Now, I want to devour more than meals.  I want to . . . understand, learn, and do more.  I want . . . everything.

I concentrate, and a small, red ball of warmth appears in front of me.  It is joined by other small balls of things.

If I use these, can I kill the yummy things better?  I want to know.

I leap at my prey.

Nothing will stop me from knowing.