The Land: Predators: A LitRPG Saga (Chaos Seeds Book 7)

by Aleron Kong

  The chaos seed looked at his chamberlain. “Does this normally happen in a Dungeon?”

  Randolphus slowly shook his head, “No, my lord. At least I have never before seen it happen. Dungeon creatures are reabsorbed over time, but I have never seen it occur so fast and never just the blood. I imagine it has to do with the Motivation you told us about, Blood Rite.”

  They were all quiet as they observed the phenomenon.

  Richter looked around at his Companions, “Just so I’m sure we’re all on the same page… my Dungeon is a vampire, right?”

  CHAPTER 26 – Day 142 – Kuborn 32, 0 AoC

  “‘Vampire’ might be too strong a word,” Randolphus responded hesitantly. He didn’t seem too sure, more like he was just sure he didn’t want to be standing inside a living Dungeon that wanted to drink his blood.

  “Seems like a good description to me,” Sion spouted, still staring at the tusker’s body. All the blood had been drained out, leaving the eyes leaden and the insides of its lips a pale white. Not a speck was left on the ground that had hungrily drank the fluid. To make things even more creepy, the grass was growing. The turf had been churned up by the fight, but wherever the blood had been absorbed the furrows were disappearing under new grass. From where the sprite was standing, it was clear that the Dungeon fed on the blood to fuel its own regeneration.

  “Like Randy said, we already know that one of the Dungeon’s Motivations is to get rare types of blood,” Richter said to diffuse the unsettling feeling they were all sharing. “Hell, it’s called the Dungeon of Bloody Chaos. It’s not too surprising that it might have a penchant for blood.”

  “A penchant for blood?” Sion asked with an incredulous expression on his face. When he said it again his voice was even louder, “A penchant for blood? Are you fucking serious? The earth we are standing on just drank almost forty tuskers dry, and it’s happy about it!” Sion kicked a tuft of grass that was visibly growing taller and greener before their eyes.

  “We all knew this place was going to be dangerous,” Richter replied. For some irrational reason, the sprite kicking the grass was pissing him off. They might be in a sanguiphilic Dungeon, but that was no reason for Sion to fuck with his yard! “So far all it’s done is drink the blood from its own monsters and fix the grass. What’s so wrong with that?”

  “Not just the monsters’ blood, my lord,” Terrod stated. “That is where I fell,” he stated, pointing, “and that is where you fell,” he said pointing again. The grass was rather green in both of those spots, Richter realized. When he walked closer there was no sign of blood.

  The Dungeon Master started nodding to himself. Okay. That was a bit creepy. He figured there was nothing for it though, “Point taken. This is some weird stuff, but what does it change? I’m going to keep coming in here. Are you? I won’t ever force any of you to come ever again if you don’t want to.”

  Sion smiled, but this time with genuine friendship, “I was just, what is the expression, ‘busting your balls,’ brother. You know we are with you.”

  Richter gave a short laugh, “Alright, let’s see what else we can find.” He summoned a mist worker and was about to order it to take some of the tuskers back to the surface when Terrod spoke up.

  “I would like to make one request, my lord.”

  “Yeah, man, whatever you need.”

  Terrod hefted his shield. The durability had dropped by more than half and it was easy to see why. The tusker had left large holes in it, but what the captain was pointing to was the large wedge Richter’s elementum sword had made in the side.

  “I said I was sorry about that,” Richter protested. He was more embarrassed than apologetic, but still, he had apologized.

  “Which is most appreciated, my lord,” Terrod stated somewhat delicately. “I just thought that your chamberlain might give you some instruction. He seems quite adept at throwing small blades.”

  “I would of course be happy to help, Lord Richter,” the chamberlain supplied. “I saw your, ahem, throw during the battle. I had planned on making this part of your instruction in any event.”

  Richter’s face adopted a slightly sour look, but there was no denying that his crappy throw could have taken off a few of Terrod’s fingers. He sighed, “That’s a good idea. What do I have to do?”

  “Ahhh, Terrod and I are going to do some recon around the chamber while you learn,” Sion told him. The sprite had no intention of being around his Companion while Richter learned to throw blades. He might not even want to be around after the man “learned.”

  “That is a great idea,” the captain quickly agreed. The two of them tuttled off to inspect the cavern.

  Richter chuckled slightly, not blaming them, then turned his attention towards Randolphus. The first thing the chamberlain did was to teach Richter the proper grip. He made it clear that while a blade should be held solidly against his palm while swinging, a light touch was required for throwing. Richter’s short swords were obviously not ideally suited, but they could still work. Even more importantly, after several throws and with Randolphus correcting his technique, a prompt appeared in the chaos seed’s vision.

  You have learned the subskill: Blade Throwing. No longer is the length of your blade the range of your damage. “Let loose the steel bird and hear the bloody song it makes.” Blade Throwing is a subskill of Small Blades.

  +2% accuracy of thrown blades. +2% speed of thrown blades.

  It felt good to get a new skill, even if it was a subskill. Richter nodded to Randolphus and told him about the new development.

  “Very good, my lord,” the Spy responded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me it was a subskill I could learn and not just a technique?” Richter asked out of curiosity.

  “I did not want you to be discouraged if you did not obtain it at first. While your skill progression is amazingly swift, it seems to take you, ah, a bit longer to initially grasp things than others.” Randolphus said with a completely straight face.

  Richter blinked, at a loss for words. He was saved from having to respond by Sion calling him over. He started walking but then turned back to look at Randolphus again. The chamberlain still had the same zero fucks expression though, so Richter just kept it moving.

  Sion was hidden from sight at first by a column. When Richter walked around it, he saw his friend was standing over the body of a tusker. What had caught the sprite’s attention was immediately apparent: an opaque red sphere the color of blood hovering over the body. It was about the size of a golf ball and its surface had a wet appearance to it. It looked like a slowly shifting ball of blood.

  “What is it?” the chaos seed asked, intrigued and disgusted at the same time.

  “I don’t know,” the sprite responded. “I’m just happy it’s not trying to drink my blood.”

  Apparently, Sion still wasn’t completely over the whole “we’re standing in a vampire” thing. “Well, it doesn’t look like another creature,” Richter commented.

  Randolphus walked up behind him and saw what they were looking at, then chuckled slightly, “It is not a danger. It is your reward.” Without further ado, he reached out and tapped the sphere. It disappeared as soon as he touched it. At the same time, coins materialized and dropped to the ground.

  You have found: 2 Copper Coins

  “Now you see the primary reason that Dungeons attract greedy adventurers: the promise of easy treasure. As a lure it is more than effective and ensures that the Dungeon is well fed.”

  “Still,” Richter commented, “two coppers? Not exactly breaking the bank.”

  His three Companions looked at each other in confusion.

  “A bank is a very strong structure, my lord,” Randolphus supplied helpfully.

  “They are also usually made of stone, which is much stronger than copper,” Terrod added.

  “‘Fucking idioms’,” Sion chimed in, imitating Richter’s voice with a broad grin.

  Never before had Richter felt as much love for the sprite
as he did at that moment, “Thank you, Sion! What I meant was that two coppers isn’t very much.” When he had been playing The Land as a game, it had only been the equivalent of two bucks.

  “I disagree, my lord,” Terrod put forward. “Keep in mind that most workers only make two to four silver a fortnight. This would be a full day’s wages for less than an hour’s work.”

  “These beasts were also only level twelve to fourteen,” Randolphus supplied. “There is no guarantee that treasure will be provided when killing a Dungeon monster, but generally speaking, the stronger the monster slain, the better the items and coins provided will be.”

  “I can follow that,” Richter told him, “but that raises another point. Why were the creatures such low levels? Except for captain slippery-feet here,” he pointed at Terrod who raised his hands in betrayed protest, “and the one that blindsided me, we cleaned them up pretty easily. I was even able to pick one up and slam it into a column.” He looked around at his Companions with a smug smile on his face, “Did anyone see that? Did anyone see me go beast mode?”

  Sion closed his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. He decided to ignore his friend, “Now that we know what those spheres are, we should check to see if there are any more.” The other two men nodded and they walked off to check the bodies. Richter just kept staring after them with a grin on his face.

  “Yeah,” he finally said after a few seconds, “you saw it!”

  They found another four spheres, meaning about 10% of the creatures slain provided treasure. The bounty was a few more coins and a health potion.

  You have found: 1 Silver Coin and 7 Copper Coins

  You have found:

  Health Potion

  Alchemy Class: Common

  Alchemy Level: Tincture

  Alchemy Strength: Clouded

  Durability: 5/5

  Weight: 0.1 kg.

  Traits: Will restore 20 Health Points over 114 seconds.

  “Still kinda underwhelmed here,” Richter said as they looked at the haul. “I know what you said about the coins, and I agree, not bad for an hour’s work. This potion is crap though. I would get almost as much health just eating herbs.”

  “Yet another reason to grow your Dungeon, my lord. If it grew a specialized Room like an Apothecary or a Poisoner’s Den, then you would start seeing potions appear more often and their quality would increase.” He looked at the red vial, “This mixture is a baseline tincture made without the touch of someone with the Alchemy skill. Remember that when someone with the skill makes a potion, each skill level they possess will increase the potion’s effect by 1.5%. Tabia, for instance, has reached level forty-five. Even outside of the perks of her Alchemist Profession, if she had made this potion it would restore nearly thirty-five points of health in less time.”

  “But you still can’t tell me how to get a Room like that, right?” Richter asked. Randolphus just shrugged. He looked at this other Companions, but they had already lost any interest in the conversation.

  “You’re sure there is no way to reason with it?” Richter asked. “The Bloodstone was self-aware after all, and now it’s the Dungeon’s Item of Power.”

  Randolphus shook his head slowly with a thoughtful look on his face, “I have heard stories of conscious Dungeons, but I have never encountered one. In the tales I have heard, Dungeons capable of thought are usually the oldest and most powerful. Those stories are also frequently told as cautionary tales. Thought does not necessarily imply rational thought. The power and malevolence of a sapient Dungeon is a fearsome thing. Keep in mind, these are living creatures that feed upon us. They are monsters that are driven by two things, their Motivations and their hunger. We should be happy they are not governed by the same dark impulses and emotions as most humanoids.”

  Hmm, the chaos seed thought. Good point. “Well, should we just divvy up the loot?” he asked.

  “No, my lord,” Randolphus said forcefully. Richter looked at him in surprise. “You are the Master of these lands. This Dungeon belongs to you. I am proud to serve a lord who believes in fairness and provides for his people, but in this case, I must protect you from yourself. In Yves, the King requires all Adventurers to register their gear upon entering. When they leave, they must declare everything they have found. Enchanted archways ensure that no one can covertly leave with more than they had when they entered. If they do, magical alarms sound and the thief may be summarily killed or imprisoned. Half of everything obtained in the Dungeon is given to the crown immediately and anything left over is taxed. If the Adventurers have joined a guild they may also be required to turn over up to 25% of their total haul as guild dues.”

  Richter was taken aback by the pure graft of the enterprise, “Why would anyone agree to join a guild after they already had to give 50% of their treasure away?”

  It was Terrod who answered, “Guilds have many advantages. For one thing, they can equip new Adventurers in better gear than they could afford otherwise, greatly improving their chances of survival. You must also remember that not everyone who enters a Dungeon is an Adventurer. Miners, herb collectors and many other noncombatants enter to farm resources. Guilds offer protection to these people while they work. It is also widely understood that Adventurers without a guild have a high chance for ‘accidents’ to befall them while they are inside.”

  Richter had thought that he might have been being dramatic with the word “graft” when he had first thought it, but now he saw just how appropriate it was. “I am not going to do all of that. For one thing, not just anyone can enter. I won’t have my people dying if they can’t defend themselves just because they want to make a few more coins.”

  “Extremely sensible, my lord,” Randolphus replied. “I will draw up a clearly defined contract, but for now I propose the following. No one may enter alone. Additionally, they must be proficient fighters and be verified by yourself, sprite Sion, Captain Terrod or Sergeant Caulder. Half of anything they gather is given to you. For any item obtained, you may decide to take it and provide them with the equivalent value in hard currency, after a reasonable amount of taxation, of course. Miners and other resource gatherers that agree to enter the Dungeon will be given bonuses based on their productivity. Any bonus resources found, gems in an ore vein for instance, remain your property, your lordship, but gatherers will receive a generous one-time bonus for such discoveries.”

  Richter’s mouth hung open slightly. Even Terrod and Sion had perked back up at hearing the chamberlain rattle off such a well thought-out series of rules. Once again, Randy illustrated just how invaluable he was. He had outlined the broad strokes of what was required, foreseen potential pitfalls and successfully put all that was needed into words. When you coupled that with his abilities as a Spy, Richter couldn’t help but think that the new King of Yves was a complete and utter fool for letting him go. It actually made Richter wonder if there was more to the story of the King’s ascension that he didn’t know. Why would anyone let a man like Randolphus go?

  Thinking about that reminded Richter that he needed to start taking more interest in the world at large. Now was not the time, however. They were still in the Dungeon which meant they were still in danger. They may have cleared the first room, but there was no guarantee more monsters wouldn’t come from other parts of the Dungeon. Hell, for all Richter knew the tuskers might respawn. He had to keep his head in the game. There would always be time for questions later.

  “That all sounds fine, as a general plan,” Richter told his chamberlain. “You three are my Companions though. When we dungeon dive, we split things evenly. Agreed?”

  Randolphus nodded in assent. It was clear to him that arguing would have been pointless. Terrod just stood by with a pleased look on his face. Sion didn’t seem to care one way or another. The wood sprites had a hippie commune sort of economy as far as Richter could tell and never seemed to want coins. That idea was undercut a bit though when Sion offhandedly added, “If I ever need any money, I’ll just let you know how
much.”

  Richter didn’t really like the sound of that, but the guy was his oldest ally and best friend. He pushed down his inner “frugalness” and just responded, “Of course.” He handed the potion to Terrod as the captain had the least health of any of them. Then he doled out the coins between himself, the captain and Randolphus.

  The chaos seed summoned another mist worker and had it load up with the bodies of tuskers. The meat seemed like a great boon on the eve of the upcoming party. Randolphus raised a note of caution however.

  “Be careful of taking too many monsters from the Dungeon, my lord. It will reabsorb the bodies of its slain creatures and thereby regain some of the energy it expended creating them if they are left alone. Again, as Master of the Dungeon, it is in your best interests to grow it as quickly as possible. There are also myths of Dungeons becoming a bit… unhappy with those who take too many of its monsters.”

  “Is there anything dangerous about eating Dungeon creatures? And what do you mean by unhappy?”

  “There is nothing inherently dangerous about eating Dungeon creatures,” Randolphus told him. “As with all flesh, you must be careful. The meat of certain creatures can be diseased or poisonous, just as it would be if found outside of the dungeons. The Dungeon also might evolve its creatures in the future so as to make the meat dangerous. On the same token however, it could give the flesh certain properties that could be beneficial. You have already found that the meat from the rock giant you slew increased Strength for a short time. Each will have to be assessed on a case-by-case basis, but these tuskers should pose no danger. As far as the myth about angry Dungeons, I am sure it is just that.”