by Dakota Krout
Their first step was getting close to their homes, but before they went inside, I had Minya bring them to a small hot spring that was reminiscent of - if much more modest than - the one on the Goblin's floor. They were all instructed to bathe and get into their new uniforms. All of them had matching robes that shimmered with iridescent silver. This would identify my employees, and any Mage who harmed them would quickly find themselves locked out of this floor and having a tough time in the dungeon. The next step was feeding them, and it was amusing to see them almost fight over a practically endless resource.
It wasn't overly surprising to me. After all, there were only three types of people who would make a deal with something generally considered to be a ruthless, mindless, soulless killer of people. There were your desperate people, like King Henry, who had need of great power to help others. Fanatics, who really thought that I was a higher power of some kind. Wrong, but cute in its own way. Then there were the selfish people, the people who wanted to be powerful without the hard work, without putting in the time.
While this group had a few fantastic fanatics, it was stuffed with the supremely selfish. If these people thought there was a way to get a benefit, they would happily kill each other for it. As they finished eating, I decided that it was time to set the rules.
At my words, the majority of people seemed to become wary. I guess they didn’t really understand what it meant to come in here and swear oaths to me. Well, they were about to find out. I laid out their duties and roles, putting the fanatics in positions of power over the others. There was deep complaining, but when the first one to loudly shout 'I refuse to work as a servant' simply fell over, the others got real quiet. He was checked by one of the others, and when the fallen man was pronounced dead, the others looked around in abject fear.
"That's correct." She seemed disgusted by their behavior, shocked that they had been acting like spoiled children. "Though I would have never guessed that they didn't understand that. Next time, I will ensure that my fellow parishioners truly believe!"
Looking around the area, I noticed that Madame Chandra had already set up shop in the manor closest to the Silverwood tree and furthest from the others. She was taking a nap, which, at her rank, was entirely optional. I was amazed once more by her massive increase in power and decided right then that I needed to make her a true ally. It was time to start doing things the human way. It was time to begin sending bribes.
Wait! I had nearly forgotten to learn what Minya knew about the item I had taken off the traitor! I turned my attention to her, and she grinned at nothing as she walked. "Hello there, Cal. I'm so sorry about that whole situation. If I had known they would be like that… I really thought that they were like me, wanting to see you succeed for no other reason than to have you become powerful."
Minya stopped walking and grimaced. "It's called a ‘return bell’. It is one part of a two-part item. By infusing Essence or Mana into the Runes, the activator can ring the bell and will be 'returned' to the other part of the item. It doesn't have that great of a range, though, and it has… other issues."
"Well, the first thing that comes to mind is that there are no teleport protections in place for it. If you ring that and something had been placed over the return pad, you get torn into pieces and will probably fall to chunks. Also, infusing it with Essence is slow, and the further you are from the return pad the more power you need to add to it. Oh, and you leave behind an explosion of the Essence or Mana used to power it. That guy was trying to escape and kill all the humans he was around." Minya waved that information off, taking a deep breath before continuing.
"The most important point: that particular item is exclusive to the Adventurers’ Guild. Only high-ranked people can get access to it, and even then, it is almost only used by guild spies or informants. If the Guild is acting like this… we are going to start having serious issues with them soon, at a time where we cannot afford to do so.”
“Well… they are at least trying to.”
Chapter Fifteen
"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong here." Dale's entire body language screamed frustration. "This is a simple application of aura, isn't it?"
"Is anything really so simple, Dale? Has there been a time when you have made real progress without also suffering setbacks and consequences?" Craig was trying to help him through learning various aura signatures, but Dale kept meeting with frustration. “Aura is very difficult to master at the beginning, though progress increases rapidly as you use it properly.”
"I just don't understand why such a minor difference should make such a drastic change in the outcome." Dale's voice was full of defeat, making Craig want to roll his eyes in annoyance. He held himself back thanks to his long years of training as a Monk, but it was a close call.
"Dale. The difference between blood and water is a few extra minerals and tiny meaty chunks, yes?" Craig paused only a moment before launching back into speech, "Do you think that replacing your blood with water would let you be as comfortable as you are currently?"
"Oh, come on, that's-"
"Different?" Craig reached forward and poked Dale in the head. "Of course it is! That's what I'm trying to say! Now, I understand that this is a rare application, but it will give you versatility in the lower levels of aura that are hard to match. It would be an amazing defense against nearly all forms of attack that are not purely physical. Also, you can thank your friend the dungeon that we have this information in the first place."
"Oh, what a generous donation," Dale deadpanned. "The dungeon is amazing, after all. Is there any more information or help you can offer?"
"Hmm. Well, I'm sorry to say that this is simply one of those auras that I am unable to create or control. Luckily, you show extraordinary control for your rank, so the real issue for you is maintaining and empowering your aura. I’d say you have a leg up on a few C-ranked folks." Craig patted Dale on his back and smiled kindly. "Try again."
"I'm still trying to figure out why I am trying to learn to create a disenchanting water aura," Dale grumbled as he deftly began to move strands of his aura around. He needed to ensure that he got everything correct, but he also couldn't let the water touch him. Craig had him practicing over a small chunk of cursed earth that they had excavated from the dungeon. Dale's attention had slipped during his reverie, and he was jolted back to reality as Craig tore a chunk of his Essence out of his hands once again.
"That was a nasty contact poison you just created, Dale. Perhaps my comment about your control was preemptive?" Cra
ig was shaking his head at his student. "Are my lessons so boring that you would rather have your arms cut off than keep learning?"
"No, it's just that-" Dale was cut off as a door slammed open and a guild representative rushed in.
"Baron Dale!" The man was gasping, an impressive feat for a cultivator that had done something as simple as running. "There is a man here from Guild headquarters… he is demanding to see you and all of your councilors."
"Um. Thank you, but why is this so urgent?" Dale walked over to a nearby table to get a glass of water for the distraught man.
"He… he said that if you are not meeting with him in thirty minutes, he would tear this mountain out of the sky and drop it in the ocean." The man shuddered. "M'lord, that was twenty minutes ago. We couldn't find you!"
Dale ignored the voice in his head and left the room at a sprint, the already exhausted Guild member running alongside him to bring him as close as possible to his destination. One final door barred the way, so Dale threw it open, smashing the wood to splinters as it impacted the wall.
A thick man in armor with deep Runescripting turned and glared at the new arrival. "Baron Dale?"
"Yes, I'm here." Dale shook himself out of his panic, clearing his throat and trying to appear presentable. There was a suffocating feeling given off by the man, just by him existing and being in the same area.
"Good, we are finally all here. Dale, by the authority vested in me as liaison to the guild, I hereby order you to stand aside in matters pertaining to the dungeon. You are also to hand over control of the city of 'Mountaindale'," the large man sneered at this obviously narcissistic naming scheme, "to someone more qualified to lead it. The Guild will also be assuming control of this academy and taking a direct hand in the running and maintaining of the building and curriculum. All students will be given higher quality resources as well as entry to the Guild upon completion of their academic studies and be excused from service until they reach at least the C-ranks. Until we go to the war or the war comes to us, that is. Then everyone will need to fight if they want to survive."
"What?" Dale retorted with a combination of rage and confusion lacing his voice. "You can't just-"
"I can and already did. These orders are already in place. Also, welcome to the war." The unknown man had a smirk appear on his face at that comment. "All Guild members are ordered to submit themselves to the war effort. We had politely asked for reinforcements against the necromantic horde, but we are past that now."
The other members of the council had also gathered in the room, and High Mageous Amber stepped forward and glared at the man. "Even so, you cannot remove him from his position. Baron Dale was confirmed in his position by two separate Kingdoms, and you-"
"Silence," the man cut her off with a single whiplash word. "I know exactly how he got this position, and I also know most of what has been going on here. Unfortunately, both of those Kingdoms have fallen already. I understand that surviving members of the Royal families are living here, but they have no power. As it stands, they could not order a single person to respect their authority. They have none. They are currently fairly strong civilians. That. Is. All."
The man waited a few moments so that his words would sink in. "You will comply with my orders, or you will be tried for dereliction of duty. By me. The penalty during a wartime situation is death. Oh, also, all titles of Nobility given to the members of fallen Kingdoms, Queendoms, fiefdoms, or political groups are now null and void. There is no more 'Baron Dale'. There is only Dale, a man who earns a five percent stipend based off of the export or sale of goods from this dungeon. You no longer are the ruler, leader, or owner of this land. It belongs to the Guild. Also, the lavish suite you were granted has been repurposed. We will hold your items for one day to give you time to find a new place to live, and your goods will be delivered if you do so.”
“What?” Dale couldn’t believe what was happening. “What about my projects, the commitments the city made? The alliances we have secured?”
“All deals that have been made will be honored by the Guild. Heck, we’ll even give bonuses to the people who set them all up.” The man seemed to be getting upset by having all these low-powered fools staring at him. “In fact, the Dark Elves are going to be getting special deals and requests from us. It’s already been discussed, agreed upon, and sealed with their leadership.”
“I did nothing of the sort.” Brianna stepped forward threateningly. “Do not overstep your bounds-” She was cut off as the man unfurled a document that had the stamp of the Dark Elf Queen embossed on it. No one would be foolish enough to falsify that seal, as it would mean their death, the death of their families, and possibly being raised by a necromancer just so you could be killed again.
“I’m done now. Get out of my sight, all of you." As the others slowly started moving away, shocked by the brutal change, the man softly growled a few more lines that were almost hard to hear. "Been here living it up, relaxing, and playing with the dungeon… the rest of us have been working to save the world. Things are going to change around here. Things are going to change."
Brianna appeared next to Dale for an instant and murmured into his ear, “He can’t take away your Elven authority. Remember that, Duke Dale. Only my mother could, and that was not included on that document.” Then she was gone like smoke in the wind, leaving Dale to wonder how this information would help him.
A state of shock had set in as what had previously been the council walked away from the meeting room. Tyler reached out and gripped Dale's wrist. "Dale, are… are you okay?"
"You know what, I just don't know. Maybe this is for the best. I don’t think that I have what it takes to be a Noble anyway. Take a look at my city: I either care too much about issues, or I don't seem to care at all. I could never seem to find a nice middle ground for moderate care distribution. Beyond that, when was the last time I went dungeon diving in this dungeon? I’ve been in meetings and training, but I haven’t progressed much further because I am not actively cultivating.” Dale chuckled darkly, and all the others could do to help was pat him on the back and disperse.
After all, without land, a title in the human areas, protections from multiple Kingdoms, or enormous piles of money… Dale was just a D-rank four cultivator. Everyone else was someone with actual power or at least responsibilities. In moments, Dale stood alone in the hallway.
Chapter Sixteen
“Nope. I just lost almost everything, and my only hope now is to become powerful enough that people can’t take away the rest of it. I’ve pissed off a bunch of Nobles that no longer need to worry about retribution from the crown or governments.” Dale started walking faster, his inherent paranoia ratcheting up another notch. “I’m already in the Guild, so my only hope is the Guild, even though they just screwed me over. It is highly unlikely that such a large organization holds personal animosity toward me, but I need to take precautions.”
These guys were pretty powerful, and it was unlikely others would pick on Dale.
“I can’t rely on them. As I have no political clout anymore, someone killing me off gets them out of any obligations they have to me. No, I need to do something outrageous.” Dale was jogging now, which to mere non-cultivators would be an unattainable sprint. He ran into a building, right to someone sitting at a desk. Dale’s abrupt appearance seemed to freak out the bureaucrat, and his next demand even more so. “Enroll me at the academy as a direct disciple to Headmaster Artorian.”
“B-baron Dale?” The man sank back into his role as soon as he realized that this was a work-related visit. “Ah… while he does get the option to have
a direct disciple, the Headmaster has indicated that he doesn’t want one.”
“This is an order. Register me as a student right now, and put me directly in the care of Artorian. I do own the academy.” Dale stared the man down, but even though he started shivering, the man shook his head.
“I can make you a student right now, but this needs to be approved by the Headmaster. He has a level of autonomy that I, as a simple administrator, can’t touch. They wouldn’t want me making decisions for the high and mighty, right?” Handing over a form, the man continued, “You need to have him sign this, and your new position will take effect right away. Welcome to the Academy, cadet. Er… Baron.”
“Thank you. He just needs to sign this?” Dale grabbed the paper, and when the man nodded, Dale ran out of the room. He charged over to the Headmaster’s residence, pounding on the door as soon as he arrived.
“What is going on down there?” Artorian’s head peeked over the edge of his roof, his expression clearing up as he saw Dale at the door. “Oh, if it isn’t the young Noble who started the academy. Please, come on up.”
Dale had no idea how he was supposed to do that when the door was locked, but he decided that he didn’t care much about property damage right now. He turned away, coming back with a running start. His momentum let him get a few feet up the wall before slamming his Mithril-clad boots into the wall creating footholds. Pushing off, Dale only needed to jump twice more before he was standing in front of the Headmaster.
“Didn’t you build this place? There is a stairwell in the back.” Artorian was fully surrounded by pillows; in fact, the entire rooftop could be called a hedonistic hotspot. Exotic foods and drink were on display, a hookah was releasing a small amount of smoke, and not a single inch of the rooftop was visible. Pillows of various thickness and color covered it entirely. “Oh, um. Shoes off, please, if you are going to be staying.”