Meanwhile, there were two things that were working against Sandra and the others. One was unseen, an insidious result of having absorbed some shards of the nearby Dungeon Cores that had been destroyed. While absorbing the shards helped to fulfill the Mana requirements for her next Upgrade Stage, they were also used to significantly speed up the entire Upgrading process; quite a boon, of course, but doing so had some unforeseen consequences. The insanity that permeated the Core shards she absorbed was somehow transferring vestiges of that mental state to Sandra, though at a much-reduced level. During one of her subsequent Upgrades, her normal dislike and fear of the helplessness during the Upgrade was amplified, causing her to temporarily lose control of her actions after the process was complete.
From then on, Sandra had to be careful not to react too strongly to her newly raw emotions, using crafting in different forms to help stabilize her mental state. This resulted in creating new enchantments, constructing a brewery and distillery for the Dwarves, and even developing glass and glasswork. Winxa was also there to help monitor the crafty Dungeon Core, helpfully suggesting ways for her to keep her sanity for as long as possible.
Unfortunately, the equilibrium she had achieved with her inner mind was shattered when Wyrlin, an Elven Ranger who had spurned Echo after her experiences in Sandra’s dungeon, arrived at her dungeon – along with dozens of other Elves, a handful of Elites…and over 3,000 Orc Warriors, including Kelerim’s father. They were there to put an end to Sandra and the threat they thought she represented, and when one of her Orcish mercenaries was killed trying to get Rothgar Bloodskull – Kelerim’s Warlord father – to see reason, the unstable Dungeon Core lost most of the stability she had been holding onto.
Her own forces participated in the slaughter of the massive army of Orcish Warriors outside of her dungeon, alongside the Monsters from the surrounding Cores – which she then turned on and destroyed. At the same time, her large, excavated tunnel was invaded by a much smaller party of Orcs and Elven Elites; as they progressed through her dungeon, they were whittled down through the use of traps and unique applications of her Dungeon Monsters, until there were only a handful left when they arrived at her Boss Room.
Nearly all of the invaders were killed, including Wyrlin and the rest of the Elite Elves, and only Kelerim’s Warlord father was left alive as a significant threat. Through the use of multiple Mobile Fortifications, Aerie Rocs, and a wave of Shears brought in from outside of her dungeon, Sandra was able to defeat the powerful Warlord, ending the immediate threat arrayed against her dungeon.
But not everything was a success. Firstly, Sandra had lost most of the control over her mental faculties, even refusing to listen to her assistant, Winxa. She had enough awareness over her dominion to prevent her from slaughtering all of the people inside her Area of Influence – including the nearby Elven village, the Orcish Mercenaries contracted to assist with the defenses, and the Dwarves operating in and out of her dungeon – but as far as she was concerned, anyone else was fair game.
Secondly, the battle against the invading Orcs outside of her dungeon was not only beneficial Mana-wise to her, but to the other nearby Dungeon Cores. They were already striving to reach her Core, and the additional Mana could potentially provide her foes with the push they needed to finish the job.
Lastly, there was no sign of her friends – Violet, Felbar, Echo, and Gerold – who Winxa desperately hoped would arrive to bring Sandra back to normalcy.
Any one of these factors could spell disaster for the crafty Dungeon Core, but all of them together could doom the entire world….
Chapter 1
“Sandra? What should we do?”
Winxa stared down at Delarthe, the leader of the Dwarven Shieldmen once Gerold had left for their mountain Kingdom, as he paced the floor of Sandra’s Home room. Next to him was Chryla, the Elven Ranger that had been the Dungeon Core’s contact with the nearby Elven village and the defenders within. Both of them, as well as the handful of other people in the room, appeared understandably worried.
As they should.
Winxa was essentially invisible to anyone that she didn’t wish to see her, so she wasn’t really worried about the small group of Dwarven Shieldmen, Elven Rangers, and Orcish Mercenaries staring up at Sandra’s non-responsive Dungeon Core spotting her hovering above. For everything that the former merchant had done after becoming a Core, this right here went to show how special she was. In far less than a year, she had managed to cobble together representatives from the nearby races, the Gnomes notwithstanding, to work together towards a common goal.
Granted, she had basically “purchased” volunteers via an exchange of weapons and armor from the Orcs to use as mercenaries as she saw fit, the Elves were relying on the miraculous Energy Orbs that Sandra had created to fight back against the nearby dungeons, and the Dwarves had lost their village as a result of what the Core had done and had no other place to stay – but that didn’t diminish the current circumstances. She had brought them together to fight against common enemies, and only through her interactions with them had they come to that point.
Unfortunately, Sandra’s mental state had slipped more and more towards insanity. The absorption of the broken shards of the nearby Dungeon Cores had likely transferred some of their former madness to her in the process, and when Kelerim’s father – along with a contingent of Elven Elites and Rangers, including Wyrlin – had attacked her dungeon and killed one of her Orcish mercenaries, she had effectively lost most of the control she had over her actions. Fortunately, it was only most – but not all.
“She’s not answering,” Chryla said, to the nods of everyone else.
It wasn’t just the people in the room Sandra wasn’t answering, however, because Winxa was left to herself as well. In fact, the only reactions from the Core was some sort of automatic translation that affected anyone inside of her dungeon – so that they could easily communicate with each other.
Chryla went on. “I think, for the protection of our people, we need to maintain our vigilance outside of the dungeons. I don’t know what happened to her, but we should continue to use the tools she provided to safeguard the surrounding lands until we hear from her.”
Winxa considered Chryla’s words and thought that was smart and it was exactly what they should be doing. They were dedicated to that course of action before the attack, after all, and there was no reason not to re-establish that routine. Especially given how much Sandra was already working on that very thing.
Unlike Winxa’s other experiences with deranged Dungeon Cores, Sandra had maintained her protective and nurturing instincts with her “people”; the other Cores she had helped to guide had lost all control and killed indiscriminately, indifferent about who they hurt or attacked – as long as it got them Mana and Raw Materials, which were used to upgrade their Core, making them stronger. The anger and monstrous thoughts Winxa had received from Sandra before she had lost all contact weren’t directed to the people living near the wastelands created by Wester all those years ago, but were instead directed towards the 4 nearby Cores that had worked together to attack her dungeon.
That fact, sadly, might spell doom for the entirety of the nearby people more than if she were to target them herself. If Sandra ended up destroying even 1 more of the Cores that had attacked her, the enhancements that the others received because of that destruction could potentially be insurmountable. As things stood, it was going to be extraordinarily difficult to regain control over the local areas because the Dungeon Cores within 138 miles of the 4 already-destroyed Cores were experiencing a period of rapid expansion. If Sandra did nothing to corral those dungeons, the entire situation would end up in disaster that not even the former merchant and craft master could come back from. Not only that, but if she compounded the issue by shattering additional Cores, the entire world could suffer due to the darkness that had settled over her mind.
“I think I know what happened,” a voice abruptly spoke up from a tunnel leading fa
rther into Sandra’s crafting rooms. Kelerim, the half-Dwarf/half-Orc, suddenly had all eyes on him as he walked toward the group. “Without a specific target like the Warlord attacking her dungeon, she transferred her anger to the nearby dungeons. I think she sort of…snapped, I guess, when my father killed Perceine.”
Winxa thought that was very perceptive of the fledgling Blacksmith, because he was absolutely correct. However, what he failed to realize was that no one happened to know that the Warlord Rothgar Bloodskull was his father.
“Wait…what?” Chryla asked, confused. “Can you please explain that?”
Without leaving anything out, Kelerim explained his history with Sandra and how his father the Warlord managed to track him down and brought his extensive Warband with him in order to destroy the dungeon that killed Kelerim’s half-brother, Razochek. He seemed exhausted, despondent, and resigned all at the same time; it took Winxa a moment to realize that he was expecting the others to blame him for bringing all of the trouble their way, and he was prepared to suffer the consequences. When a small amount of grief over the last member of his family being killed during the attack was added to the mix, Kelerim was a bit of a mess.
The room was silent after the Blacksmith finished, though after about a minute, the leader of the Shieldmen cleared his throat. “It’s not your fault. If anything, it’s Sandra’s fault for saving you in the first place,” he concluded. “Not that I would expect anything less from Sandra, given what I know about her and how she has made my people feel welcome here, but this whole situation seems to stem from that one decision. A decision that, contrary to what we’ve all been taught about dungeons, was designed to save a life, rather than take it.”
“I agree,” Chryla spoke up, her previous nervousness about being the center of attention long gone. “If Sandra has snapped, like you said, she is only that way because of what happened to one of us.” She nodded towards the 3 Orcish mercenaries that had joined them earlier, whose facial expressions showed clear shock. “Yes, even though you were volunteers that are here to help, she still considered you as her own people – and not in an ‘owning’ sense, but as a…family?” The Ranger shrugged. “I don’t know if that is the precise way she feels about you, but I think it’s accurate enough.”
They know her better than she realizes. Winxa was surprised at the intuitiveness of these people, though she figured that she probably shouldn’t be. Their lives had been turned a bit upside down, and having adapted so well to the changes likely meant they could start to understand where Sandra stood with her people. The former daughter of a merchant might have been Human in her previous life, but she was fully committed to the cause of saving as many people as possible.
Of course, that didn’t necessarily correlate to the fact that she had very recently killed over 3,000 Orcs and Elves that had invaded her dungeon; then again, they had attacked her, so Winxa couldn’t really blame Sandra.
As a result of those deaths, the Dungeon Core had obtained a lot of Mana and Raw Materials; what she was using it for wasn’t that much of a mystery, however. Every few seconds, another Monster Seed and subsequent Dungeon Monster would appear beneath her Core, before marching or running off to parts unknown. Well, they aren’t really unknown, but I really don’t want to think about Sandra sending her Monsters through the tunnels the other Cores created to reach her Home room.
For the most part, the people in the room ignored the constant production, which seemed almost automatic at that point. Ever since the darkness had clouded her mind, some parts of Sandra’s normal routine and operations had occurred automatically; Winxa thought that this was one of the reasons the people in the room could actually communicate amongst themselves. Translations to each of their minds were transmitted almost as a reflex by the Dungeon Core by that point, which was how they understood each other – otherwise, they would have no way to converse.
“Is there anything we can – or should – do?” asked Brunothe, one of the Orcish mercenaries. While he didn’t expressly describe what he was talking about, Winxa tensed up as she caught his tone.
“I can’t see that helping in the slightest,” Delarthe immediately responded. “Even if we were able to do it – which I don’t want to and neither should you – shattering her Core would only delay the inevitable. Like it or not, Sandra is our only chance to survive…as long as she doesn’t destroy any other dungeons, that is. If she succeeds, then I don’t think we’ll have any chance of survival in the future.” Winxa was sure by that point that Sandra wasn’t actually listening to the conversations while a distant part of her mind translated their words, because Delarthe’s words about shattering her Core would’ve likely garnered some sort of reaction.
“So you’re saying that we’re lost no matter what we do?” a female Orc mercenary (whose name Winxa had forgotten) expressed with irritation.
Delarthe was silent for a moment as he looked at the others with something like determination in his gaze, before it collapsed into resignation and a shrug.
“I—” Kelerim cleared his throat. “I’ve been trying to get through to her as much as you have, and I feel like I’m close – but I also feel like she doesn’t want to talk to me. Whether it’s because I remind her of what my father did to Perceine or some other reason, I don’t think I can convince her otherwise.” There was a grumble through the group as the Blacksmith basically just said they were all doomed. “However, I don’t believe all is lost quite yet.”
“What do you mean? It sure sounds like it to me.”
Kelerim answered Chryla along with everyone else, who also seemed as interested in his answer. “Just because none of us can get through to her, that doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone who could.”
“Who—? Ah, I see…but where are they?”
That’s precisely what Winxa wanted to know. She hoped Kelerim was right, because they were the only thing that the Dungeon Fairy could think of that might re-establish some sanity inside of Sandra. When Gerold, Violet, Felbar, and Echo left for their homelands to obtain help, it was like a shadow of darkness had fallen over the Core at their departure. When they didn’t return, Winxa could tell that Sandra was starting to lose some of her mental stability due to feelings of abandonment.
If anyone could get through to Sandra, it would be 1 or even all 4 of them – if they ever came back, that was. What happened to them? Winxa wasn’t sure, nor was there any way for her to find out; regardless, the Fairy resolved not to give up on the Dungeon Core while they still had a chance to return. She just hoped that their homecoming was in time.
Meanwhile, the people in Sandra’s Home room, who essentially comprised the leadership now that the Dungeon Core was no longer “in attendance”, decided to continue on as they had been doing by protecting the nearby lands. It was all they realistically could do, after all, unless they decided to take that step they had been referencing earlier and destroy Sandra’s Core – which Winxa fervently hoped it wouldn’t come to. To stop the even greater expansion of the other Cores, though, that might be exactly what needed to be done.
As the group scattered to their tasks – the mercenaries with obvious enthusiasm at killing more Dungeon Monsters, while the Rangers and Shieldmen appeared simply resolute – Winxa looked down at the Core beneath her. The bright-shining Dungeon Core was surrounded by layers of small, whirling Dungeon Monsters of different kinds, designed to act as a rotating shield of sorts for defensive purposes. If the time came that Sandra needed to be destroyed rather than allow her to nearly guarantee the annihilation of the nearby races, it would be difficult – but not impossible – for the people who just left to do the deed. Deep down, something told her that it wouldn’t come to that, but she had also seen too much tragedy in her day to hope too hard.
But she could hope a little.
Chapter 2
Red rage painted Sandra’s vision of almost everything she looked at, based on the anger she held toward the dungeons that had attempted to breach her Home room; it was fur
ther sustained by their annoying insistence on defending themselves. Initially, her fury had included the entire Orcish race for sending an army to destroy her at the same time, but most of that had faded over the last day. She still wanted to get back at them for hurting Perceine, but the one that had done the deed was dead; his punishment was enough to cool her vengeful ardor towards the rest of the Orcs, though if any other Orcs stepped foot in her wasteland without permission, she wouldn’t hesitate to throw every construct and Dungeon Monster at them until their blood stained the dry, brittle dirt and stone of the environment.
In other words, she didn’t intend for any of them to get close enough to harm her or her people – ever again.
As for those people, she felt that they were the only reason she hadn’t completely abandoned all rational thought and gone feral and insane like the other Cores. When she looked at each of the Dwarves (both the Shieldmen and those villagers living in her actual dungeon), the Rangers moving in and out of their own village and throughout the forests to either side, and the Orcish mercenaries helping to cull the plague of Dungeon Monsters roaming around, they each were the light in an otherwise-dark world. She thought that it was the Bond they shared that caused them to be highlighted to her vision, and it was like a lifeline to the tiny bits of sanity she could hold onto.
When she looked at the Elven and Orcish villagers, who hadn’t Bonded with her Core, she didn’t see the same “light” coming from them. That didn’t mean they were the enemy, however, so she would leave them alone; if they stepped foot in her wasteland without being invited, though, they would join the corpses of the many interlopers already being converted to Raw Materials. She was more than halfway done dragging the corpses of the Orcs into her dungeon so they could be absorbed, though it wasn’t just for the Raw Materials she gained from the process that she did it. Despite her rage and fury at the dungeons nearby, leaving bloated corpses to rot in the sun was not something she could stand for.
The Crafter's Dominion: A Dungeon Core Novel (Dungeon Crafting Book 5) Page 2