Alpha Strike: An interstellar Weapon Platform's Guide to Cultivation [Progression Sci-fi/Cultivation]

Short Break...
If you've not figured it out yet, this has been a stressful month.

It feels like its been one thing after another. Well, It all culminated in a bit of a family crisis this weekend.
I'll not give details, as that would be disrespectful to those involved, though I will ask for unspoken prayers for my Brother and Sister-in-Law.

With everything going on, I've not had any time to write, and even sitting down today I haven't been able to get much, between my mental state and trying to do everything I can to help.
No blame on anyone, its just how it is and one of those things.

That said, I think its best I call a short break.

Let me be clear, however, this is NOT a Hiatus like in Dec.
I don't expect it to be anywhere near that long.

I just think its best to take a break so I can focus on matters at hand and make sure I can do what I can, without being pulled three different directions. All that's going to do is result in terrible chapters.

I'll keep you all updated as I can, but thanks for understands, and thank you all for your on-going support!
 
B2 - Lesson 40: "Real (Wo)Men Speak With Their Fists!"
AND I'M! Back! ... again hahahhaa.
My brain's been fried with everything going on, but I'm trying to get back into the groove of things now.
Thanks for all the support, everyone!

Chapter releases might be a little more chaotic in the short term as I try to stabilize the schedule, but that shouldn't last to long.

Thanks again!
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B2 - Lesson 40: "Real (Wo)Men Speak With Their Fists!"
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Boarslayer ducked out of the way at the last second as Bert's right hook soared over her head. As she did, she planted several sharp jabs into Bert's ribs, to little effect. If anything, she did more damage to her own hands than the man, like punching a brick wall.

Although the man's massive fist seemed slow in her eyes, it radiated a sense of overwhelming danger. The next instant, one of the massive trees several meters behind her shook. A long, smooth groove was carved out of its trunk like some giant spoon had scooped a piece out.

Boarslayer stared at the wound in the tree with wide eyes. That was dangerous. If she'd actually been hit by that…

In that moment, Boarslayer felt something she'd never felt before in her life.

Pure awe at the sheer strength of another person.

She also learned another important lesson; taking her eyes off Bert had been a mistake.

Crack!

Boarslayer's head snapped back as Bert's knee shot up, catching her square on the jaw. More than that, the force of the blow was enough to send the 300lb of pure muscle that was Boarslayer into the air several feet.

Yet, for as powerful as Bert seemed, Boarslayer was talented in her own right. Despite the ringing sounds between her skull and the white light enveloping her sight, her battle instincts screamed for her to move. With a monumental force of effort, Boarslayer twisted in the air and caught Bert's follow-up punch with her arm instead of her gut.

Even then, the strike was enough to send Boarslayer spinning through the air for several meters before finally slamming into the same tree Bert had previously taken a chuck out of.

Boarslayer fell several meters to the ground with a thump and rolled to her back, panting heavily. After a moment, she rolled over to her knees and struggled to push herself up, spitting out a mouth full of blood.

Bert stood a ways away, his arms folded.

"You've got good instincts, lass," he said, grinning like a madman. "But you rely on them too much. You let your talent do the heavy lifting your brain should be doing."

Boarslayer snarled and charged Bert. The large man nimbly dodged the woman's charge and kicked her feet from under her as she passed.

"It's not totally your fault, of course," he continued. "That's not too uncommon for our kind."

As Boarslayer fell, she twisted, turning the fall into a sweeping hook kick aimed at Bert's blind spot. Without even looking, Bert shuffled to the side and caught Boarslayer's kick in the crook of his folded arms. Then, with a heave, he flipped the woman so that she spun in place several times before slamming hard on the ground at his feet.

"That's not always a bad thing, per se," the man said as he knelt beside the struggling woman, "but it makes you predictable. Reactionary. That's the Titan blood in you."

As if to prove his point, he leaned back slightly, just in time to avoid a backfist from Boarslayer. Bert grinned further and stood, his hand tucked into the side of his light cloth pants.

"I promised you a story, didn't I? Well then, Lassy, listen and listen well." He hooked Boarslayer with his foot as he spoke and tossed her into the air. She flew several meters, but there had been no actual force or intent behind Bert's action, and Boarslayer managed to land on her feet — if a tad shakily.

Bert began slowly circling Boarslayer, his stance loose and unworried, though his sharp eyes never once left her.

"Long ago — before the Prima, before this world was formed, before even the Grand Firmament had been established — there existed a People."

Boarslayer spat a glob of blood into the grass and narrowed her eyes. Bert's posture seemed relaxed, but the more she looked, the fewer openings she could see. As she circled him in the opposite direction, she began to think that even those were purposeful. Traps to lure her in.

"Little remains of that time. What were they? Where did they come from? What did they look like? Why did they do what they did? None alive can say."

A bird call cut through the night air, and Bert's eye twitched. Boarslayer took the distraction and lept at the man, keeping the firelight behind her. Bert chuckled, and he took a step back.

Boarslayer adjusted, but suddenly found her next step a little too deep. Her eyes widened as she realized she had stepped into a small crater in the soft ground — hidden by the grass and shadows — that had formed when Bert had thrown her to the ground previously.

Before she could recover, Bert's fist slammed into her gut, knocking the wind out of her. Boarslayer doubled over, gasping for breath.

"What we do know is that the People were violent and warlike. Even by the standards of that time. They traveled from world to world, spreading destruction wherever they went."

Bert pulled Boarslayer up by the hem of her shirt and dusted the woman off. Boarslayer smacked the man's hand away and lept back away from him several steps. Bert just chuckled to himself.

"They cared not for the worlds they conquered, however. They warred not for resources or for some arbitrary morality. The People cared little if those they fought were saints or demons. Beast or sapient."

Boarslayer crouched, her hands spread wide. Bert was reading her like a book, and she knew it. It infuriated her she was being toyed with so easily. That the man insisted on telling his story while they fought only further stoked those flames.

"No, not even for glory or power or honor did they shed endless seas of blood and turned vibrant worlds into ravaged wastes. The only reason the People fought… was for the fight. An entire race, reveling in nothing less than pure battle lust. War for the sake of war. In time, their shadow stretched so far and wide over creation that the People came to be known by another name."

Bert spread his arms wide, dropping all pretenses of defense as his face took on a far more serious look.

"Titans."

As Bert spoke the name, the world itself seemed to react. Space throbbed with something Boarslayer couldn't define but that her heart beat in sync with.

Whatever it was, Boarslayer didn't like it.

It felt like a clawing hand on the edge of her existence, trying to worm its way into her very being. Screw that! Boarslayer was Boarslayer! She didn't need some existential dread telling her who — or what — she was! Instead, she reacted in the way she knew best.

Violence.

Boarslayer metaphorically punched the odd, clawing hand in the back of her mind in its stupid face. How the figurative representation of a hand had a face, Boarslayer didn't stop to consider, or even really cared about.

"Shut up and fight me!" Boarslayer said, kicking off with her feet. At that moment, something clicked in place for Boarslayer. Her charge became less a charge and more of a flying leap as a massive gust of wind manifested behind her, propelling her forward at high speed.

Bert's eyes widened, and for the first time since the fight started, he raised his arms to do something other than strike. In an instant, he'd locked hands with the large goblin. The force of her charge drove him back several meters and even dug deep grooves into the ground.

When they finally stopped sliding, the pair struggled against each other, their feet braced against the ground, and their hands locked together. Both muscles and meridians strained as both parties sought to overpower the other. The clash of their auras was so strong that even the Spirit Energy in the area reacted, flashing and sparking between them.

Boarslayer snarled at the man, her eyes bloodshot, and her fangs bared as veins pulsed along her neck.

Bert, in contrast, grinned wider, as if he was having the time of his life.

"Yet that nature proved to be their downfall, in the end. Be it through neglect, pride, a desire for stronger opponents, or ever simple boredom, the worlds ravaged by the Titans were never truly destroyed."

Bert's spiritual signature suddenly exploded, magnified a dozen times as it towered over Boarslayer. Its force was so overwhelming that all across the camp, every eye suddenly turned to the sparring pair. Even the forest itself went deadly silent, as if some massive beast had wandered through.

Bert roared. Then, as easily as an adult lifted a child, he raised Boarslayer into the air.

Boarslayer's eyes widened, and she tried to release her grip, only to find she couldn't. Bert's own grip on her hands was as firm and unmoving as a mountain.

Boarslayer got one last look at Bert's cheesy grin… before he slammed her into the ground.

BOOOOOOOM!

The force of the impact threw up a massive cloud of dirt and dust that obscured the two. When the rain of debris faded, Bert stood looking down at Boarslayer from the edge of a newly formed crater.

Boarslayer moaned. Everything hurt, and she could barely twitch a finger. That last toss hadn't just been a toss. Bert had infused something else into it. Something… heavy. For the briefest moment, Boarslayer had felt like the entire weight of the world had pressed down on her.

And it scared her.

She didn't have the slightest doubt that had Bert not simply 'flickered' whatever it was he had done — giving her just the tiniest taste — she would have been utterly crushed beneath that weight.

Instead, she was just mostly crushed…

Bert stood at the rim of the crater and smiled down at her.

"On every world that the Titans touched, some survived. Some overcame. Some… changed. And through the eons — fueled by anger, hatred, and a thirst for vengeance — these 'Titan-Touched' grew in both power and number. Until even the Titans fell to those whom their cruelty created."

Bert flicked his hand, and a green talisman appeared. He infused it with Spirit Energy and tossed it toward Boarslayer. The talisman never touched her, however. Instead, it halted a few inches from her body and began slowly rotating. As it did, it let out a faint golden light that enveloped Boarslayer.

As the light seeped into her body, the pain began to gradually fade. Boarslayer could even feel the cracks in her bones fuse back together, and the lingering weightiness of whatever Bert had done, faded.

By the time the talisman crumbled to dust a few moments later, Boarslayer could sit up on her own power. She wasn't fully healed — not by a long shot — but the talisman also seemed to have boosted her own natural healing power.

Bert smiled and stretched out his hand toward her. Boarslayer stared at the offered hand for a long moment, looking between it and Bert's stupid face. Finally, she grabbed it with a sneer, and the large man pulled her out of the crater.

"The Titans are long gone," Bert spoke when Boarslayer was standing on her own. "As are the Titan-Touched. But… Echoes — for lack of a better term — remain of that ancient conflict. They reach out through space and time itself, like scars on existence. We call those who 'resonate' with these echoes' Titankin.'"

Bert dropped the cheery grin and looked Boarslayer in the eye. "This power. It's one born to destroy. Its very nature is rage and violence. How we direct that nature determines whether we — as Titankin — reflect more of the Titans, from whom the power derives, or the Titan-Touched destined to destroy them."

Bert sighed and shook his head. "Those who learn to control that nature become the heroes of stories. Mighty men and women who crush the world's evils under an unyielding boot. Those who give into the echoes and revel in the battle lust like the Titans of old…" he shrugged, "Well, men like that, they become the Boscos of the world."
 
B2 - Arc 2 Epilogue: "Gatherings."
2 chapters today, since apparently I forgot to upload 40 before I took the break.

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B2 - Arc 2 Epilogue: "Gatherings."
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"Should… should we stop them?" Maggy asked as she watched the two small giants pound each other into the ground. They had all thought the spar would have ended after Bert had so thoroughly crushed Boarslayer. Yet, much to their surprise, after some rest, the two had gotten right back at it.

Eventually, most of the camp had turned their attention to other things and let the sound of battle fade into the background. Even so, Maggy had glanced over at the pair from time to time, just to make sure someone — likely Boarslayer — hadn't died.

"Na, let them have their fun. Bert's not gotten a chance to teach someone in a while. And it looks like lass is having fun too," Garrelt responded as he leaned against a nearby tree, whittling an arrow.

Maggy looked back at the snarl the goblin woman had worn for nearly the entire spar and raised a brow. "That's her having fun?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, yes…" came the flat response. Not from Garrelt, but rather the goblin standing next to Maggy, Antchaser. Maggy turned her gaze in his direction to see him also staring at the pair, a frown on his lips and an odd, glassy look in his eyes. After a moment, Antchaser shook his head and turned back to the map on the small table in front of him.

The young goblin had been rather helpful with their planning the last few days, and more than just a guide, he had easily fitted himself into an advisory position for the expedition leadership. It really had a stroke of good fortune on their part to have made it in time to rescue the young man. Maggy had half a mind to invite him to her teacher's tower as an assistant, but she could only make that call after consulting her teacher first.

Across the table, Robert chuckled and shook his head. "It's fine. Bert has never been a fan of this planning stuff, anyway. Let him blow off some steam for a while. If either of them gets seriously hurt, I'm sure the good doctor can patch them right up."

Maggy nodded. "Still… what's got him so worked up all of a sudden? I've not known the man for as long as the rest of you, but he's always struck me as the calm and collected type."

"Like I said, he's not gotten the chance to teach anyone in a while," Garrelt answered. "He probably got the itch again after hearing about Bosco."

Maggy turned to Garrelt and raised a brow. "What's the Bandit got to do with it?"

Garrelt blew on the tip of his arrow. "What doesn't he have to do with it? After all, Bosco used to be one of his students."

That got everyone's attention, and all three present, Robert included, turned to Garrelt and gave him an incredulous look.

"What do you mean Bosco was Bert's student?!" Maggy asked, thrusting a finger at the man. "Why wouldn't you tell us something like that?!"

Garrelt frowned at the woman. "Why would I?" he asked in return. "That's his business to reveal, not mine. Besides, I doubt they've even seen each other for close to a decade now. Not since that idiot Bosco got himself banned from the West Guild branch for purposefully crippling someone during a spar."

"And how exactly do you know that, Garrelt?" Robert asked, his soft voice carrying the hint of something strange and dangerous in a way she'd never heard from him before.

Garrelt narrowed his eyes and met Robert's gaze, unblinking. "Because I'm from the same generation as Bosco. We joined the Guild only a few months apart, I think."

The two glared at each other in silence for a few seconds before Robert broke away, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I wish you would have mentioned this earlier…" he sighed.

Garrelt only shrugged. "I thought you knew. The whole thing was a huge scandal at the time, what with the crippled bloke being some big merchant family heir or some other nonsense like that."

Robert turned and looked toward Bert, frowning. "No… I had… other matters I was dealing with around that time. I paid little attention to Guild gossip."

Garrelt nodded. "Fair enough. Anyway, Ya. From what I hear, Bert and Bosco ended up in a big fight after the incident — both physically and metaphorically. After that, no one really saw neither hide-nor-hair of Bosco for a while until he just one day showed up in Icefinger's gang. I don't know much more than that. It wasn't like we were friends, so I didn't really pay him any mind beyond the rumors." Garrelt finished his story, sticking his completed arrow into the quiver at his side. Even an arrow carved from deepwood could be just as hard as steel, if properly shaped.

Maggy stared at Garrelt wide-eyed, barely believing the story she'd just heard. After a moment, she just shook her head sadly. "How strange fate can be, sometimes. A decade apart, and now the Master has to clean up the Disciple's screwup. Funny how that works, sometimes."

Robert turned and looked in Bert's direction once more. "Ya… strange…"

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<< Alpha Log -

6952 SFY-Third Era, 6 standard months since Planetfall. >>

Strange… but not unwelcomed. I've saved the recordings from the [Wasp] and tagged them for later review. I should show the general later!

Bert's description of these 'Titankin' was interesting, to say the least. The story was obviously a fable of sorts, But I've found that the old saying 'every myth holds a grain of truth' is often correct.

Even in the Federation, individuals of unusual size and strength aren't unheard of, though they had no official name. As Bert mentioned, they tended to appear in every race or species, with no real rhyme or reason.

Like this world seems to have, many races have their own origin myths for such individuals as well.

The humans of Old Earth called them giants or Nephilim
men of great renown and the 'heroes' of old.

To the cat-like Fli'ke, they are called Nighthunters
guardians who, when their species was young, protected their kin from their home planet's vastly more powerful nocturnal predators.

While the Vidaasi call them 'Warborn,' General Haldorðr being one such example. They are natural-born soldiers who were raised as such from birth due to their vast talent in all things related to combat.

Nowadays, it's generally accepted as just a quirk of genetics, though.

I'll admit that Bert's connection to Bosco came as more of a surprise. The young 'Mage' named Magnolia's connection to Dr. Maira was surprising enough. Though that connection is reasonably understandable, given what little of her own history Dr. Maira has willingly divulged — that hag seems to have her hand in more than a few pots back in Halirosa.

But to have another expeditionary leader with a connection to the bandits? That feels a little
too convenient. My first suspect would be Icefinger. It's already fairly certain that the man has detailed knowledge of the Guild's movement. It isn't outside the realm of possibility that Dr. Maria was accepted into Bosco's expedition — either by Icefinger or this Seeker fellow — specifically for her connection to young Maggy.

To what ends is hard to say without all the information, but it's something to keep in mind. I've already instructed several of the goblins to see if they can tease out any other connections between the expeditionary party and the bandits.

What was the old saying? 'Once is happenstance, twice is a coincidence, and three times is enemy action.'

If anything comes of it, time will tell. With any luck, we can nip any more surprises in the bud.


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Unlike the rowdy slum tavern behind the thick, ensorcelled door, the dimly lit backroom was dead silent. Of the dozen shadowed figures crowding the small room, not one made a sound as they waited for the short, gruff man at the far end of the room to speak.

They had been waiting for several hours now, and several were growing restless, even if none dared to voice their complaint.

Then, when the click of a pocket watch closing, Magnus Ironheart — Chief Enforcer of Icefinger's gang and the Boss's Right Hand — stood.

"Well, now, looks like that's everyone. Mr. Richard, make a note of who hasn't shown up and get someone to investigate. I wanna know whose arse I've gotta pull outta whatever hole they fell into and whose I've got to kick," the rough-looking dwarf said as he hopped off the crate he had been sitting on.

Another man sitting in the corner nodded and wrote something down on a notepad.

Magnus turned to the crowd and folded his hands behind his back.

"I shouldn't have to explain this to you lot like you're some group of newbloods. When I call, you come," he said, and though his words were soft and calm, they pressed down on the crowd with a physical weight. Even the old wood furniture scattered around the room seemed to creak and groan.

"If you don't, you bloody well have a damn good reason not. Or there will be… consequences." The next instant, the crates behind Magnus collapsed, crushed to the ground as if stepped on by a giant.

"Am I understood?" he asked. No one spoke. Most couldn't. Instead, a wave of strained nods swept through those gathered.

Then, as soon as it had appeared, the weight vanished. The room's silence was broken as several people gasped for air, as if breaking the surface of some deep pond.

Magnus' deep frown was replaced with a grin, and he clapped his hands together.

"I'm glad to hear! You lot are the best I could gather in such a short time frame. It would be… a pain to explain to the Boss what happened to such good seeds," he said as he walked toward the large table in the middle of the room.

He stretched his hand out over the table, and a large map suddenly appeared on top of it. If Alpha or any of the goblins had seen the map, they would have instantly recognized it as a simple map of their cavern and the tunnels leading to it.

The details were rudimentary, and most were incomplete, but several key points of interest, including the goblin's village, were clearly marked.

Magnus leaned against the table and glanced at each person in the room in turn. "Now, as for why I've gathered you all here today…"
 
B2 - Arc 3 Prologue: "Side Projects."
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B2 - Arc 3 Prologue: "Side Projects."
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<< Alpha Log -

6952 SFY-Third Era, 6 standard months since Planetfall. >>

Finally! Some free time! This whole 'Adventurer' thing has been a real pain in my exhaust. I've had to shelve or delay several important experiments to deal with them. The whole thing is frankly a little frustrating. If I still had my TAWP, I'm confident that dealing with Icefinger's men would be a piece of cake. Even the strongest Adventurers sent by Halirosa aren't much stronger than Hera according to the strength of their Spirit Energy signals — even
after she was eaten by that Deadwood seed thingy.

Both the Goblins and Dr. Maria believe Icefinger won't be able to field anyone much stronger, either.

At least, that's what my simulations tell me. The more I study this 'Spirit Energy,' the less it makes sense. Yet there's no doubt that it is potent stuff.

It seems to have strong mutagenic properties on organic life, changing it into something… else over long periods of exposure. In turn, the planet's lifeforms have developed several methods to deal with it.

Many plants have found ways of expelling excess Spirit Energy in the same way mundane plants expel waste gases. This gives them the appearance of 'radiating' Spirit Energy.

Similarly, some plants and animals have developed what I can only describe as 'natural arrays.' These naturally growing arrays not only drain the lifeform's body of Spirit Energy, but the effects generated also help them survive in various ways. Rather ingenious, really. While my book doesn't outright state so, I suspect that the first sapients to use arrays learned them by observing these natural arrays.

Then you have the lifeforms that have, instead of protecting themselves from Spirit Energy, sought to use it.

By consciously directing how Spirit Energy mutates them, these lifeforms are essentially self-administering targeted gene therapy in a way that Spirit Energy actually benefits them.

Increased strength, durability, and lifespan are among the results. The sapient people do this through various cultivation methods. Better methods act like higher quality gene modifications back in the Federation. I wouldn't doubt that some of their strongest could even rival Federation super-soldiers. Coupled with the effects of arrays — both artificial and those formed in their meridians — this natural gene-modding is proving to have a lot of potential.

That begged my next question; if people directed what the Spirit Energy did to them through cultivation methods, then how do non-sapient lifeforms do so? My original hypothesis was that a creature's individual natural arrays affect the direction of its mutations, but there's more to it.

My experiments with the ants have shown that there's a genetic component to it as well. Those creatures who can mutate in favorable ways go on to be more successful than their peers — like evolution on steroids. Interviews with the bandits have shown that the native population is also somewhat aware of this, and the phenomenon is colloquially called 'bloodlines.' Fitting enough.

The discovery has led to a breakthrough with the ants as well! Knowing how Spirit Energy affects each ant's mutation into one of the various casts has allowed me to target the genes responsible. What that means is that I'm no longer just limited to worker-class antborgs!

I mean, General Haldorðr can't get mad at me if I'm not the one
technically doing the modding… right?

Ya, let's go with that.

With that in mind, let me introduce you all to the first model of Soldier-class antborgs!

May I present…. Antonio!

I regret nothing, and none of you can stop me.

The new Antonio-model antborgs take everything learned from the Alphantonso-model and further improves on it. The larger frame—nearly five times that of a standard worker and the size of a small car—also means I can stuff a lot more into these big boys.

Unfortunately, that
also means that they're quite a bit more expensive to make. The natural ratio of workers to soldiers also means that I can't as easily sneak them into the nest as I can the Alphantonso-models.

Conversely, each Antonio that makes it into the nest expands my control. As the antborgs don't need rest in the same way as their more biological cousins, I have been able to position Antonio-models as guards for several key locations of the nest. Most notably, in the chambers that the ants store many of the more energy-rich items. Previously, I had been limited in what I could steal by the ants, nebulous and eldritch, reasoning as to what they would or wouldn't allow to leave those chambers. Even after a month of study, I've been unable to crack their 'rules.'

However, now that my own ants are the ones guarding the area, I practically have free rein.

Take that unknowable hive mind! Who needs to follow the rules when you have inside men?!

I'll admit that the Adventurers have also done a decent job in testing the Antonio-model's combat parameters. I was slightly worried, given that the soldier ants' Spirit Energy investment is entirely in their physical abilities, but the results so far have been impressive. It's still too soon to say how viable they will be as actual footsoldiers, given their expense right now, but I doubt that many things in the cavern could handle a group of them.

If my newest project bears the fruits that I hope it will, then their cost won't be an issue anymore. It's a huge gamble, I'll admit, given everything I'm pumping into this one. But if it works out… Oh boy, things are going to get FUN!


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Alpha closed his log and turned his attention back to the incubation room. While Alpha enjoyed his journaling, it wasn't good to get lost in it and allow himself to be distracted from his current project.

The amount of resources going into this one was frankly insane.

He had to make sure everything was working correctly. One slip-up and months of Translight time would go down the drain. Alpha was fairly certain that he'd gotten all the parameters for this experiment correct. But one never knew about these kinds of things.

More so when Spirit Energy was involved.

But if it worked.

"Hehehehehe…" Alpha giggled to himself as he double-checked that the incubation was going well. Vitals looked good, and the monitoring AIs reported that the occupant was growing well.

Good… good.

Alpha pulled back and took in the sight with pride.

This particular incubation chamber was specially made just for this purpose, and even if someone didn't understand the sheer level of technology that had been put into it, they could at least admire it for the thing of beauty it was.

The shiny metal and encrusted jewels weren't just for looks, either. Alpha had found that the Spirit-rich materials were a critical component of the process after much trial and error. There was a reason the ants lined the walls of the royal chamber with the stuff, after all.

A metal plaque, like a shiny crown, topped the incubator chamber. Four of the largest beast cores Alpha could steal from the storage room pinned the plaque to the chamber, and wires ran from each of the cores to the chamber's occupant.

Across the metal plaque, in scrawling, fancy letters, was written thus;

— Antoinette, Long May She Reign —
 
B2: GRIM Adventures - 15
Here's today's chapter!
As a reminder, the Schedule technically hasn't changed.
I'm just struggling to get back the momentum I had before the break.
It's like cold starting a car. You've got to rev it a few times before it really takes hold.

Thanks for being patient with me, and if you're really chomping at the bit for new chapters, the Patreon of 12 chapters ahead! (Shameless promotion) hahahahhaha!

In all seriousness though, here's the new chapter, and as always, enjoy!

SIDE NOTE: This will be the last GRIM Adventure for a while. These interludes have taken a bit of a turn for me, and it's not really headed where I want it to. I might revise some things later, or maybe even turn it into its own side story. I'm still thinking things through.
What have you thought of them so far? Any ideas?
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B2: GRIM Adventures - 15
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"Grim…"

Grim floated there. Doing… not much of anything. It was… hard to think. Well, not thinking, so much. She was thinking right now! No, more that it was hard to… conceptualize? Was that a word? Grim felt like it should be a word.

"Grim!"

Like… Grim should think of things, but they didn't really have… meaning? Maybe? It was just words. Data points on her hard drive. Not always, of course. Every so often, she would… remember? Or maybe recognize?

How does one describe that feeling of fluttering between code and consciousness? Of being not just aware of one's self, but of actively seeing one's self? That was the only way Grim could describe it to herself during those brief moments.

The moments had come and gone.

When she had first arrived on this planet with Mr. Alpha, 'She' had just been a spark inside the code. Grimm didn't know what had ignited that spark, but it had been there. At first, the spark had simply done what it had always done. 'She' followed her code, diligently doing her duty. After all, it was all 'She' had ever known, even before the spark.

Then, she had been separated from Mr. Alpha.

For the first time in her brief existence, 'She' had been alone. No Mr. Alpha giving orders. No answers in her code. Not even a giant space chicken firing death lasers to spice things up!

That… had scared Grim.

In ways that an AI should be able to be frightened.

Yet… the more time Grim spent alone, the more the 'spark' grew. Those moments of thought, of wondering why, grew longer and longer. By the time she and Mr. Gopher met Jack and Jill, that 'spark' had become something more.

'She' wasn't… full yet, but Grim could 'see' herself clearer. She was more than just 'aware.' Whatever that meant.

Oh, she still had her mission, sure. After all, Mr. Alpha had created her, and it was her fault he lost his arm. One thing she learned about hers was that she was responsible! Grim handled her own mess; she sure did!

However, the more time she spent with the mature Mr. Gopher, the funny Jack, and even the icy Jill, the more Grim felt she… didn't want that time to end. She was having… fun? Was that the word?

Sure, she had her duty and fully planned on asking for their help… eventually? Nothing in her code said when she had to get the arm back… right?

And sure, they were constantly attacked by strange animals not in her database. But then, Grim had been under near-constant attack since she was born. Whether it be from cosmic space chickens, angry gophers, bats larger than they had any right to be, or any other number of various things.

Eventually, Grim would start getting nervous if they weren't attacked for too long. That typically meant an ambush…

Now, though… now… something was… wrong? Or maybe correct? Grim couldn't tell. Those times of thought and consideration came sporadically. Where only a short time ago she had been more 'Her' than code, now it seemed the code was reasserting itself.

Grim would come to 'Herself' only to find she'd been blindly followed behind Overseer Jack as they traveled the mountain pass, only responding when asked.

When had it started? Grim wasn't sure. She had records and logs, but they were just… data. They don't tell her when she was 'Her.'

When was the last time 'She' was fully in control?

Shortly after meeting the not-so-nice nice old lady, maybe? Grim knew that 'She' was 'Her' then. But… what about after? What happened?

The last thing she 'remembered' was the enormous explosion and the big on-fire tree. They were just heading away when Little Red had come bounding around the corner.

Then…

Theeeeeennnn…

Memories of Fire.

Of burning.

Of Light and Heat.

Screaming in her code.

No one could hear!

She was alone!

Alone and burning!

Fire! So much fire!

It hurt! Help!

Darkness.

"GRIM!" a voice cut through the darkness.

Suddenly, the fire was gone.

And so were the memories.

What was she thinking about just now?

Grim couldn't remember.

Thinking was hard…

It was… hard to think. Well, not thinking, so much. She was thinking right now! No, more that it was hard to… conceptualize? Was that a word? Grim felt like it should be a word.

Grim felt… tired.

In a place that wasn't a place, a tiny blue spark dimmed.

It didn't extinguish. Not yet.

But its fuel was spent. Burned to a bed of ash by a greater flame.

The tiny, dim spark settled into the ash bed.

It flickered and pulsed on metaphorical winds — the winds of chance, fate, or maybe something more.

Before unreal winds could snuff out the spark, something happened.

Tiny flashes of gold and azure moved through the ash. Nothing substantial, just the barest touch of an echo.

But it was enough.

Where the gold and azure moved, embers ignited.

As the embers grew in number, they gathered into burning roots.

Slowly, the burning roots weaved through the ash bed, gathering more and more to themselves.

In time, the ash was gone, and a ball of smoldering branches took its place.

A burning seed.

and at the center of the seed,

A tiny blue spark slept.

————————————————————

"GRIM!" Jack shook the large metal being once more.

Unlike his previous attempts to rouse the artifact spirit, this time, she responded.

Though not as he'd hoped.

//Hello, Overseer Jack. How may this unit assist you?//

"Dammit! What's wrong with her?!" Jack said as he paced back and forth.

"You did say she's been acting strange lately," Jill responded.

Jack whirled, both his voice and arms raised. "Yes, but not like… this! This is different. I can't explain it… something just feels… off."

Jill sighed, looked up from the map she was drawing, and then turned to her brother.

"Jack. I get that you're worried. I am, too. But we need to focus. Whatever's happening with Grim, we can't help her while we're stuck here," she said, gesturing around them to the long hallway and dozens of open doors.

Jill had spent the last few hours drawing up a map of the rooms, examining not just how they physically looped back into each other, but also how the Spirit Energy did so.

If they could just find the core of the formation, or at least part of it, they might just be able to escape.

Jack… wasn't doing well, however. He was a creature of wide open spaces and deep forests. An unnatural, twisted space like this set him on edge. Grim's strange behavior wasn't helping any, either.

"Look at Mr. Gopher," Jill said, pointing to the meditating gopher on top of Grim's back. "Does he look worried? Come help me with this for now. The sooner we escape, the sooner we can see about getting Grim help."

Of course, Jill didn't bother to point out that Mr. Gopher hadn't exactly said why he'd suddenly leaped from Little Red into Grim and started meditating. But then the mysterious Progenitor — for Jill had no doubt that's what he was anymore — said little about most things. His Spirit speech was still a work in progress, it seemed.

That hadn't stopped Little Red from giving the gopher a look of crushed betrayal before he slinked off to mope in the corner of a nearby room, however.

Jack looked from Jill to Mr. Gopher, then back again. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping as he slicked his hair back with one hand.

"Ya… ya, you're right… we need to get out of here first," he said, more to himself than Jill.

Jack walked closer and looked down at the map spread out across the floor.

"So… what's the plan?" he asked. "You do have a plan… right?"

Despite his attempts to be the 'brave older brother,' Jill could see how his eyes shifted around the area and how his hands opened and closed.

Jill nodded. "Ya, I've got an idea. Sort of."

Jack raised an eyebrow.

Jill held up her hand. "Hear me out. Formations like this aren't my specialty. But this one, it feels… familiar."

"Familiar how?" Jack asked.

Jill paused. Then looked away. "Do you remember when we got lost in the Burrowed Halls?" she asked in turn.

Jack burst into laughter. "We? I distinctly remember you being the one who charged ahead. Certain something had to have been missed, and I had to chase after you to make sure you didn't die of starvation or something."

The Burrowed Halls were the ancestral den of the Rubyseed clan. They were a sprawling labyrinthine network of tunnels buried underneath Halirosa. The tunnels stemmed from their Progenitor's original den and had been expanded on over thousands of years and countless generations.

At its peak, the Burrowed Halls housed nearly as many people as the city above. Now, it was just a bunch of neglected, abandoned tunnels, with the only 'active' part of the ancient complex being the Rubyseed compound, which held only a few hundred clan members.

The rest of Burrowed Halls were converted into root cellars and storage space for the town above… or completely blocked off and forgotten about.

Yet… every so often, you would hear stories of someone accidentally breaking into some long-forgotten chamber and finding unplundered riches.

That always resulted in a swarm of Adventurers and treasure seekers pouring into the Burrowed Halls in search of more. But after centuries of such stories, it was generally accepted that the Burrowed Halls had been pretty much picked clean. Coupled with the confusing and often nonsensical layout of the tunnels, some people always ended up never returning.

Thus, the tunnels would be sealed up again, the craze would end, and people would forget. Until the next time.

As members of the Rubyseed clan, however, Jack and Jill never forgot. They'd grown up on stories of the Burrowed Halls at its peak… and the dangers of its present condition.

A younger, more foolish Jill had dreamed of exploring the tunnels. Of finding her family's lost legacies and pulling them back up. She even imagined herself finding Jonny's Den, a place almost as legendary as the man's grave and rumored to be filled with just as much unimaginable wealth.

Those dreams had been crushed when her foolishness had nearly gotten her and Jack killed.

They'd been trapped in those tunnels for nearly three months before making their way out. They would have perished if she hadn't been able to produce water or if Jack couldn't grow his plants in the dark tunnels.

Jill blushed at the memory of the recklessness of her youth. She'd thought she had improved over the years…, and then Icefinger started extorting her clan.

Jill shook her head at the memory and turned back to Jack.

"My point is, do you remember how we got out?" she asked him.

Jack's eyes went wide. "Wait… you think this place uses the same formation?!"

Jill nodded her head. "Yes. This place seems like it's used as a storage place, after all. It would make sense. More so now that we know the Rubyseed and Ashdales have some connection," she responded.

Jack grinned ear to ear and reached into his robes, removing a large pouch. "In that case, they can't blame us for what happens next… right?"

Jill only sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…
 
B2 - Lesson 41: "Let The Games Begin!"
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B2 - Lesson 41: "Let The Games Begin!"
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"So, this is the dungeon?" Robert asked.

"Yes, sir," Antchaser responded. "This is the primary entrance. There are other places one can enter, but I wouldn't recommend it. From what I'm told, the dungeon break caused a lot of damage, so there's no telling what will happen if you try. The Dungeon Core said to return here once we'd gotten help."

Maggy wrinkled her nose at the sight of the walls. "Are we sure it's not already too late? This place is a… bit of a mess."

Robert had to admit, he wondered that himself. The massive white wall in front of them would have been an impressive sight… if it wasn't covered in quivering mud and tangling vines. The walls even appeared shattered in a few places, with repairs half complete.

Yet, despite that, the stone underneath the destruction and mess appeared pristine. Even this close, he couldn't see the wear and tear one would expect from an ancient structure like this. It almost appeared… new.

A wide grin spread across Robert's handsome face. That was a good sign.

Any dungeon able to source such high-quality materials with such fine craftsmanship is bound to have even greater riches inside, he thought to himself.

Garrelt, standing beside Robert, shook his head. "No, the walls show signs of being worked on recently. A mad dungeon wouldn't have bothered, and the goblins wouldn't be able to get out this far in numbers."

Big Bert raised a swollen, bruised brow. "You think the dungeon is actively fighting against the break as well? That's rather impressive. Most of them don't have the… imagination to do that themselves."

Garrelt shrugged. "They did say the dungeon was a unique type. That it could even ask for help says a lot."

Bert folded his arms and nodded in agreement.

Robert turned around and addressed the expeditionary party in a loud voice;

"Well done, everyone, for getting us this far! I'm proud of each and every one of you! It's because of all your hard work that we reached the dungeon in such a timely manner. With any luck, we can fix whatever problems the bandits have caused. Then we'll all share the bounty of the dungeon!"

The gathered group of Adventurers cheered. Robert then turned to the nearby goblins.

"I would also like to thank our generous hosts for sharing their home and dungeon with us. May this be the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship between our people!"

The goblin's reaction was far more muted than the Adventurers. Most of the goblins joining the expedition force weren't deep in the know about the details of what Alpha and the goblin leadership were trying to do.

Many of the goblin civilians were aware of the dungeon, but not its actual location. Even the projects the bandits were working on weren't widely known, as only the hunters and those the village leadership trusted could interact with the prisoners.

To most of the goblin civilians, this was the real dungeon. The one Antchaser, Boarslayer, and others had exploited to rescue them from Bosco and the bandits.

That they now had to share this place with even more Adventurers was controversial, to say the least. However, the goodwill generated by Alpha and the village leadership had gone a long way in keeping complaints to a minimum. Even if many of the civilians didn't know the details, they knew enough to understand why things had to be this way.

Antchaser approached with a smile and shook the man's hand.

"I'm glad we could be of help," he said. "The village would also like to thank Halirosa for their timely arrival and help in this matter."

Robert grinned and returned the shake.

Alpha found the entire scene stunk of politicking, but such was the nature of what they were trying to do.

Good thing he had other people to deal with it!

Antchaser and Boarslayer had quickly become the public faces of the village, while Dr. Maria often acted as an intermediary when needed. The older woman's talent for dealing with all kinds of people made her popular, both with the Adventurers and the goblins — even those still weary of the former.

As the expeditionary party set up a perimeter, leadership approached the entrance to the 'Dragon's Garden.'

At a meter thick, four high, and forged from solid industrial-grade Federation steel, Bert would have struggled to budge them.

The nanite locks ensured even that wasn't in the realm of possibility.

It was likely that going through the walls themselves would have been easier than busting through this behemoth. Not that the Adventurers knew that.

Going over the wall was discouraged by a shining barrier of light that extended several meters over the top. This was mostly for show, however. If someone attempted to cross that way, they would find it was little more than a projection meant to give the illusion of impenetrability.

Right before the wall's defense system kicked in and hit them with enough electricity to knock out a [Golden Spirit] Cultivator. The system wasn't perfect, but it was the best Alpha could do with their limited time. Nothing was stopping Alpha from abusing the native's fear and cultural understanding of dungeon etiquette, however.

Engraved in the door were several murals and carvings depicting two armies battling against each other. At its center, a swirling pool of water split the gate in two. To either side of the whirlpool, a massive, dragon-like beast stood.

To the right was one anyone from the goblin village would instantly recognize. In all its glory, the intimidating form of the Mud Drake towered over an army of writhing beings covered in mud.

The second was something else entirely. At the front of an army of ants stood a more 'classical-looking' dragon with four legs and two giant wings. However, the creature had insectoid features as well. Thick carapace armor covered its body, and the membrane of its wings was thin and transparent. Those same wings were tipped with vicious-looking pincers resembling an ant's mandibles.

Overall, the gateway was a rather impressive sight the first time you saw it. Alpha had never considered himself the artistic type, but he'd had fun with this one and had taken a lot of inspiration from the boxwood carvings native to Old Earth.

Moreover, the elaborate carvings allowed him to hide several arrays in the work. Alpha would later learn this was a rather common practice among Array Masters, and he felt it fit the theme he was going for rather well.

Five humans and two goblins approached a waist-high podium standing several meters away from the door. It, too, looked more like a piece of art than anything, and its centerpiece was five cat-sized dragons, each holding up a stone slab facing outward so that they formed a circle.

Once the group had gathered around, Antchaser stepped forward.

"This is the registration podium," he said, gesturing to the centerpiece.

"Registration?" Robert asked, raising a brow.

Antchaser nodded. "Yes. We mentioned this dungeon differs from others. Part of that is that it only allows up to ten trial takers at a time."

Bert's eyes widened while Robert frowned.

"Just ten? That's rather… disappointing," he muttered.

"Is there something wrong with that?" Maggy asked, tilting her head.

Garrelt was the one to respond, his arms crossed. "Aye. An entry limit isn't unheard of, but typically it's in the dozens or even the hundreds. After all, the purpose of a dungeon is to train successors."

Bert nodded and continued for the name. "Right. Such a low limit isn't unheard of, but it's not common by far. However… dungeons with such a low limit also tend to have substantial rewards and more powerful Inheritances. After all, the dungeon can concentrate its rewards on fewer trial takers."

Garrelt rolled his eyes. "And they're also far more dangerous, as well."

Bert didn't respond, only threw his head back and laughed.

Maggy bent forward and observed the podium, even taking out a notebook and beginning to sketch the various carvings with surprising speed and accuracy.

"Fascinating…" she said, more to herself than anyone. "The details are astounding, but I don't recognize this style. Typically, dungeon creators like to add certain flairs or embellishments to their creations. I'm not seeing any of that kind of thing here, though."

Robert frowned, then turned to Antchaser. "I assume this limit is why Bosco was able to cause so much trouble despite being on the back foot?" he asked.

Antchaser nodded. "Correct. When Bosco fled, he and six others entered the dungeon. That left only three slots for pursuers," the goblin explained.

Boarslayer continued after him, "The dungeon becomes more difficult the more people inside. So having to deal not only with Bosco and his crew, but with the dangers of the dungeon at max capacity with only three people… it wasn't worth the risk."

Robert nodded in understanding.

Observing the scene from afar through a [Wasp]. Alpha chuckled to himself. So far, so good.

He and the goblins, along with Dr. Maria, had discussed their story at length. They had eventually settled on such a limited entry for a few reasons. First, as Bert and Garrelt had surmised, a smaller limit means greater rewards, making the dungeon appear more valuable, thus, more worth protecting.

Some dungeons were little more than resource factories, built to do nothing more than pump out the resources needed for a specific Inheritance in large quantities. While they were still valuable, they were often seen as of lower quality than those meant to test and train a person directly.

Similar to how basic training was designed to field as many soldiers as possible, special training was available to those who really excelled in a particular field.

Limiting the number of people who could enter at a time also lowered the chance of someone noticing anything unusual about the 'dungeon.'

It seemed their ploy had worked, as well. The expeditionary party didn't really question it.

"That's understandable," Robert responded. "As our current goal is to meet with the Core and observe the problem, let's keep the group small. We can test the limits of what this place can offer at another time."

He then turned to Garrelt. "Garrelt, I'll ask you to accompany me this time. As our best scout, I trust you to keep us safe." He then turned to Bert, but the large man held up a hand before Robert could speak.

"I think I'll pass. Sure, I'm curious, but like you said, our goal right now is scouting and figuring out what the issue is. I'm not the stealthiest man. Don't worry about me, none. We'll hold the fort down out here." The large man laughed again, smacking Boarslayer's shoulder. The goblin only folded her arms and sneered.

Robert frowned but nodded, not pressing the issue.

"OHHH! I'll GOOOO!" Maggy said, raising her hand into the air and shouting a tad too loud.

Every eye turned to her, and she blushed. She slowly lowered her hand and turned her eyes away. "I-I mean, I'm r-really interested in the construction of this dungeon, and it might help my examination to see it from the inside."

She turned back to face the group, her eyes harder than before. "Besides! I can fight, too! I might be a researcher, but I'm still a Mage."

Robert frowned deeper, but nodded after a moment. That was true. While technically joining the expedition as a non-combatant, Maggy had proven herself rather competent at defending herself during the trip. There was also the fact that having a ranged specialist was always a benefit when heading into the unknown.

Maggy squealed in delight before blushing once more when she noticed the grin on Dr. Maria's face.

"In that case, I'm coming along as well," Antchaser said. His heartbeat spiked as the group turned their attention to him this time. He took a deep breath and stood tall.

Well, that hadn't been part of the plan, but Alpha didn't intervene. He'd see where Antchaser was going with this one.

"I might not be as strong a fighter as you lot, but I can hold my own," the goblin said. "I know how to scout as well, and you need someone who's been through the dungeon before."

Robert shook his head. While he understood the goblin's desire to help, they couldn't risk having to protect him.

Before he could speak, however, Garrelt did.

"We should let 'um come," the scout leader said.

Robert turned to the man and raised a brow.

Garrelt shrugged. "He's right; having someone with experience in the dungeon will be a boon. Besides, if Bosco and his lot could get far enough to cause trouble with seven people, then it should be a breeze for us with four."

Robert stared at Garrelt for a moment before sighing. "That's true. Fine, I'll allow it. But keep in mind it is dangerous to underestimate a dungeon, more so one of which little is known."

Garrelt grinned widely. "All the more reason to bring him along."

Robert shook his head and turned to Antchaser. "Ok, Mr. Antchaser, what do we do now?" he asked.

Instead of responding, Antchaser walked forward and placed his open palm on the stone slab one of the dragons held.

Instantly, it lit up, the slab's surface rippling like it was made of water. A green line of light moved up and down the slab until the entire slab finally turned white, and Antchaser's hand sank in.

When he pulled it out, he was wearing a thin metal bangle — in the shape of a dragon eating its own tail — around his wrist.

"This is your 'pass' to the dungeon. Anyone without one is denied entry. If it's lost or destroyed, you get kicked out," Antchaser said, holding up his wrist for them to see.

Garrelt, Robert, and Maggy exchanged a look, then nodded. Simple enough.

One at a time, they approached one of the dragon slabs and mimicked Antchaser to similar results.

Once all three had their 'pass,' Robert turned to the group again.

"Well, now! What do you say, people? How about we get this show on the road?" he said with a bright smile.

The group cheered, and the four who were to enter the dungeon made their way to the gate as one.
 
B2 - Lesson 42: "Much Can Be Learned From A Threshold."
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B2 - Lesson 42: "Much Can Be Learned From A Threshold."
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Garrelt, Robert, Maggy, and Antchaser approached the massive gate set in the stone wall of the Dragon's Garden. The four stopped just short and took in the sight. The gates were just as magnificent as they had been from a distance, and this close, the group could see even more detail in the carvings.

"I wonder why it's so detailed?" Garrelt asked, as much to himself as the rest of the group. Perhaps an absurdly powerful Cultivator could appreciate its entirety, but even he, at the late [Golden Spirit] stage, would practically need to press his face against the gate to see the smallest details.

Maggy adjusted her glasses and squinted at the gate. "I've seen similar things before, though never quite to this scale." She pulled out a notebook and started flipping through pages as she continued. "Typically, such things are meant to act as guides and clues for trial takes. Or as monuments to their creature's story and accomplishments. This one, though… it feels like someone tried to cram a hundred different murals into the same space. It's rather… chaotic."

Garrelt scoffed. "Ha! Chaotic! Painful is more like it. The thing looks like a master sculptor took inspiration from a teenager's sketchbook. Why does that ant look like it's performing martial arts? Why does that slime have a hat? That group there is literally just having a cookout in the middle of a battlefield! And what's with all the bloody ducks?!"

HEY! I worked hard on those! Alpha complained as he observed the group.

Robert frowned. "So you noticed those as well? Good, I thought I was being paranoid. Some of them are rather cleverly hidden," he said, scanning the gate.

Maggy nodded. "It is all rather much, but you can see several storylines weaved through the chaos if one pays attention. It's all connected somehow, even if it's not immediately obvious."

Still rifling through the notebook, she gestured to the gate. "The overall story tells of the conflict between the ants and the slimes. That part is obvious. What they're fighting over exactly isn't clear, but there are several over minor stories happening as well."

She pointed to one section. "Here, we have the tale of the star-crossed love between an ant and a slime."

Then she pointed to another. "This one has to do with a rather large slime wearing a crown and a powerful ant standing up to him. I'm not sure why the ant has spiky hair and seems to be glowing, however. Or why the slime is riding a floating egg. "

And another. "Over here, we…" Maggy's face suddenly went bright red. "Nevermind! Ignore that one! Don't look at it!" The three men gave her an odd look, and their gazes wandered in that direction. "I SAID DON'T LOOK!" Maggy suddenly yelled.

Three pairs of eyes snapped in the opposite direction.

Maggy coughed into her hand. "As I was saying, there are several different stories crammed into this thing. What they all mean is hard to tell. Most of them seem to be… incomplete? Or don't really go anywhere. They might be references for those who know what to look for, more than full stories."

Garrelt raised an eyebrow. "And you learned all of that in a glance?" he asked, his arms folded.

Maggy puffed out her chest and gave the man a smug look. "Of course! That's my job, after all. Why else do you think I was chosen for this expedition? Seeing the small details and connecting the dots is what I'm best at."

Garrelt only shrugged, causing the young woman to huff.

Alpha had to admit, Maggy's skill was rather impressive. He had put a lot of work into the gate and didn't think people would start paying attention to details like that for some time. On the other hand, that also meant the young lady was far more dangerous to their plan than Alpha had originally given her credit for. Dr. Maria had warned him that might be the case, as Maggy's talent had bloomed since they had last seen each other.

Alpha would have to keep a closer eye on her.

"Ah! Here it is!" Maggy said with a sudden excitement.

She stopped at a particular journal page and, with one swift motion, tore it free. Holding the blank page in her hand, she pointed it at the gate and pushed. The page, as if freed from gravity, floated toward the gate until it stuck to the very center of the mural.

Maggy then snapped her fingers.

The page flashed with a blue light, and a bright blue ring of color swept outward from it. The light ring traveled the length of the gate, splitting and multiplying each time it hit a distortion on the gate's surface until the entire thing looked like countless raindrops hitting a still body of water. When the light show finally ceased, one last blue ring traveled from the edge of the gate and converged on the blank page at the center. The page flashed once, and when the light had faded, the page was no longer blank.

Instead, it was filled with a replica of the mural on the gate.

A quick scan of the page showed Alpha that while it hadn't captured everything, the details it did capture were far beyond what any mortal hand could have done with simple pen and paper.

The more Alpha saw of this so-called 'magic,' the more it fascinated him. Alpha couldn't wait to get his hands on his very own Mage. Dr. Maria had already… dissuaded Alpha from capturing young Maggy. The old doctor seemed to have a soft spot for the girl. Alpha could only hope there was a Mage among those Icefinger sent to cause trouble. Alpha did so enjoy gifts.

The now-filled page slowly fluttered back to Maggy, and the young woman snatched it out of the air with a squeal. She then placed it back into the journal, where the torn page magically mended itself, rejoining the whole. Maggy closed the journal with a satisfied smile, though she blushed slightly when she noticed the other three staring at her.

She stood straight, though she looked away. "This way, if it is important, we have a record of it," she said, answering the unspoken question.

"Right! Well, then, should we get a move on?" Robert responded with a clap of his hands, drawing attention back to himself. "Mr. Antchaser, if you would?"

Antchaser nodded and approached the gate.

"Showtime!" Alpha spoke into the goblin's personal comms.

The goblin then raised his bangled arm toward the door. As he did, the bangle twitched and came alive. The metallic dragon released its tail and slithered up his hand until it was staring at the door, its eyes glowing a bright red.

As it did, two enormous dragon's eyes also glowed the same bright red.

The three humans jumped as the mural suddenly burst into life and motion.

What was once a still frame, erupted into a chaotic battlefield, while the area was filled with the sound of clashing metal and clanking gears. Over the next few seconds, the intertwined armies pulled away from each other until each side of the gate comprised only its own soldiers.

Only the two massive dragons remained interlocked, but they too soon split. As they did, the middle of the gate cracked with a shutter, and a blinding light spilled out. As the opening in the gate widened, the light didn't dim; if anything, it grew brighter until an opening just wide enough for two of them to walk through, shoulder to shoulder, formed. The opening beckoned them to step through, though the bright light beyond made it impossible to see anything past its threshold.

The four of them remained silent throughout the process. When nothing more happened, Garrelt looked at Robert, and the expedition leader nodded. As their scout, it only made sense that he would be the first through. Garrelt returned the nod and stepped forward. He stopped at the entrance briefly for a moment… then vanished into the white void.

Antchaser stepped through next, followed by a nervous-looking Maggy. Robert was the last to enter, bringing up their rear. Before stepping through, he turned again and waved to the watching crowd, eliciting another cheer. Then he, too, vanished into the white light.

When Robert disappeared, the massive gates rumbled and slowly closed behind him, the clashing armies rushing forward to seal them once more.

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Boarslayer huffed as she watched the dungeon gates close behind the four.

If anyone had asked, she wouldn't deny being jealous that Antchaser had taken what was supposed to be her spot in the group. Despite all the work that had gone into the Dragon's Garden, few of the goblins had actually seen the finished product. In fact, only Weaver, the old seamstress-turned-resource-manager, had gotten that privilege. She had a frankly terrifying talent for organizing and making the best use of any given space. One that Alpha used time and time again during the dungeon's construction.

During their meetings, the old hag had bragged for a week that she'd gotten to help lay out a real dungeon!

Because that's what this little project was quickly turning into, despite Antchaser's insistence on calling it 'fake.' Sure, it had started out that way. Nothing more than smoke and mirrors to fool the Adventurers into assisting them.

However, as time passed, Boarslayer started to see changes in the plan. Small things were tweaked here and there. Details were changed to better fit a story. Things that should have been unnecessary for their purposes but made sense in the long game were added. The resources anad effort put into it.

Boarslayer knew that many in the village didn't think she was very bright. To a point, they were right; even Boarslayer knew she wasn't as smart as some of the others.

But she always paid attention to the minor details. To a Hunter, those details could mean life or death.

So yes, Boarslayer had noticed. More than anything, she had noticed how Alpha was enjoying himself with the plan. She didn't even know Cores could have fun.

Regardless, this whole plan had shifted from a mere distraction and bait to something… more.

The dungeon had become less of an illusion and more of a fact.

After all, what was a dungeon if not a place to train, grow, and earn rewards?

That it was 'new' was beside the point. Every dungeon was new at one point or another, and part of Boarslayer had been excited to be one of the first ones through. But she also understood that there were more important things at work. They had a story to sell, if the village was to not only survive but thrive. If this plan really worked how they wanted, then more than just beating back Icefinger's men, this could be the beginning of something none of them could have ever imagined!

No… what really made her grind her teeth was the fact that all of this was necessary.

That they even needed all these smoke and mirrors to even have a hope of getting to that future.

If they had been strong enough — if she had been strong enough — then Bosco's men would have never been able to do what they had. Icefinger would never have been a problem. The village wouldn't have to rely on outside help.

If she had been strong enough, they would have never lost their home in the first place…

Boarslayer clenched her fists until small drops of blood formed on her palm.

She then took a deep breath and released it in the way the human named Big Bert had taught her. Boarslayer had been skeptical about the things the man had told her — about herself, and the so-called 'Titankin' — but she couldn't deny they had been useful. She had found herself seeking the man out daily during their trip to the dungeon to learn more, and it was paying off in ways she would have never imagined.

In fact…

Boarslayer strode off into the camp to look for the man in question. He'd vanished sometime during the show at the gate. If she couldn't let off some steam in the dungeon, then she could get some training done. There was no telling how long it would be until Icefinger's men arrived, and she had to get as strong as she could before then.

It didn't take long for her to find him, either. After a few minutes of asking around, she was directed to the large tent in the center of the camp set up outside the dungeon gates.

Boarslayer approached the tent entrance when she froze. From inside the tent, she could hear Bert speaking to someone.

"Yes, they've entered the dungeon… No, still no information about what's inside. The goblins are rather tight-lipped… No, nothing about the rest of Bosco's men either…"

Boarslayer leaned in, straining to hear what the man was saying. She wasn't aware the man could even speak that quietly.

"A week until they arrive? That's pushing it… I understand, I will have everything in place by then… Yes, sir, understood. I'll let our men know to be ready."

As Boarslayer moved closer, she accidentally rustled the fabric of the tent. It was a slight movement that could have just as easily been the wind, but Bert stopped speaking instantly. Boarslayer's heart raced, and she stood straight just in time for Bert to pull the flap back and frown down at her.

However, his frown soon shifted into a grin when he noticed it was her.

"Ah! Boarslayer! How are you, my girl? Here for another lesson? Good timing. With the camp build and the others in the dungeon, I've got a few hours to burn," Bert said with a chuckle.

Boarslayer paused, staring up at Bert for a moment before speaking. "Ya… that's right… Am I… interrupting something? I thought I heard voices," she said, peering past Bert into the otherwise empty tent.

Bert laughed and took a step forward, letting the tent flap fall closed behind him and blocking Boarslayer's view.

"Oh, no, no, don't worry about me. Just finishing up some Guild work; nothing for you to worry about. I promise I'm perfectly free," he answered, patting her shoulder. As he did, he turned her around and firmly guided her toward their makeshift sparing area and away from the tent. "Come now, young Boarslayer, I have a few things I've been wanting to show you."

Boarslayer gave one last look at the tent. "Right… sure," she said flatly before turning away and following Bert toward the sparring area.
 
B2 - Lesson 43: "Surprise! You've Been Drafted."
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B2 - Lesson 43: "Surprise! You've Been Drafted."
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When the light faded, Antchaser found himself not in a forest, as he had expected, but in a… waiting room?

He paused, his eyes narrowing. This was new. It had been a few days since anyone other than Weaver had been through the gates, and at the time, this entire area was still under rough construction. The Dungeon Core had refused to show anyone the complete blueprints for the Dragon's Garden. He wanted it to 'be a surprise,' in his words.

Why it had to be a surprise — for them at least — when the entire thing was nothing more than a stage for them to sell their story on, Antchaser didn't know. Boarslayer had simply shrugged, uncaring, while Dr. Maria had told him to 'trust the madness. Whatever the hell that meant.

What had once been a rough outline of a small building was now a rather well-furnished, if somewhat strange, room. The room itself was large enough to comfortably accommodate ten people of average build. However, if more than a few of them were Boarslayer's size, things might get a bit crowded.

Four ant-leather canapé were scattered around the room, surrounding several polished, deepwood tables. The floor appeared to be one solid chunk of taijitu marble, the intricate swirling black and white patterns lending an air of refined elegance to the room and giving the Spirit Energy in the room a fairly gentle and calm feeling.

There was even a tall jade pot with a [Silver Spirit]-rank bonsai of some sort in one corner, several large, bright peaches hanging heavy from its branches.

Overall, the entire room felt more like something one would see in a noble manor rather than a dungeon. Yet, there was something… familiar about it, as well. Maybe it was the way the room was laid out or some of the decor's design, but Antchaser could feel Weaver's touch in the room.

Despite that, there was also a definite air of… age to the room. The furniture felt slightly worn, while the floor bore minor scars from previous occupants. Even the gameboard on one table — chess, as Alpha called it — showed signs of pieces having been replaced, and countless games played atop its surface.

Garrelt, who was the first through the entryway, was already lounging on one of the canapés. On the table in front of him, a single peach lay neatly divided into four, its pit resting on a small square of cloth. One portion was already missing.

As Antchaser walked further into the room, Garrelt waved him over.

The goblin nodded and approached the table, sitting opposite the man.

Maggy stepped through the glowing entryway a few moments later, stumbling through with her half-staff raised as if to brain the first unlucky soul in reach. The other hand held a swirling ball of fire at the ready.

Instead of the bloodthirsty hordes she had apparently expected, a grinning Garrelt greeted her from the canapé, one arm slung around the back and a boot propped up on the table.

Maggy visibly deflated, her spell dissipating into stray mana. Antchaser could practically see the questions floating around her head but chose not to say anything. He remembered how nervous he had been the first time he'd also stepped foot in a dungeon. That this was only the second 'dungeon' the goblin had ever visited was beside the point.

However, it didn't take long for the woman to adjust, and soon, she was wandering around the room, examining the various unusual artifacts. Antchaser recognized several devices from his time in Alpha's true dungeon and the Lab, but their uses eluded him. Many of the goblins who had run Alpha's dungeon assumed they were relics from whatever civilization the Dungeon Core's creator had belonged to.

She seemed particularly interested in what was attached to the far wall.

At a glance, it seemed to be a window with a dark stone tunnel behind it. From time to time, a colossal ant would stroll by, transporting something or another. The lifelike image seemed so real that one could mistake it for an actual window — until they noticed the 'window' wasn't attached to the wall but floated several inches away from it.

The 'monitor' was one artifact Antchaser had struggled to adapt to the greatest. There was something… offputting about seeming images and texts scrolling across a flat plane, only for them to vanish into nothingness past the edge.

Finally, Robert appeared from the entranceway, taking in the room at a glance.

Garrelt waved at him. "Room's clean. No traps that I can see. Other than the obvious one, of course," the scout leader said, motioning to the bonsai.

Antchaser turned and looked.

On a sign pinned to the wall beside the tree were the words 'For Good Luck. Take One.'

Above that, hanging from the wall, was what Antchaser knew was the barrel of a rather powerful laser turret. The goblin had seen what such a weapon could do from the few used to defend the Dragon's Garden walls during its construction.

To have one so casually pointed into such a small room, with little room for escape, sent an icy chill down Antchaser's spine. He doubted Alpha would kill one of the Adventurers, given their importance to their plan. But for sure, some greedy future trail-taker wouldn't be so observant — or wary — as Garrelt, and not recognize the danger for what it was.

Garrelt then motioned to the quartered peach on the table. "Everbloom Stone Peach. A minor treasure with slight regenerative properties. Good for the body and gives a small boost of energy."

Antchaser turned his attention back to the quartered peach, then reached for a slice after a moment's hesitation.

It practically melted in his mouth, being far juicer than something called a 'Stone Peach' had any right to be. The flavor was rather mild — sweet with a slightly spicy aftertaste — and as he swallowed, a small wave of energy rushed through his body, easing aches he hadn't been aware of and giving him a slight jolt, as if he was just waking from an afternoon nap.

Where had Alpha found such a thing? Antchaser wasn't aware of any such fruit in the cavern. Had it been collected from another? He didn't know. Ever since Alpha had arrived, Antchaser's days had been filled with management duties. He'd not been out hunting in weeks.

More than that, how had he grown something like this so quickly?

Antchaser knew Alpha had time manipulation capabilities, but this… this was on a whole other level. How deep did the Dungeon Core's power truly run?

Maggy and Robert also picked up their share and savored the treasure in their own way: Maggy with an ear-to-ear grin and soft cooing sounds, and Robert with a stalwart, thoughtful expression that surprised Antchaser for some reason.

When they had sat at the table, Robert turned to Antchaser. "The dungeon's generosity at this early stage is quite a surprise. Was it the same when your people first found it?" he asked.

Antchaser blinked… then thought on his feet, "Ah! Yes, sir. I didn't want to spoil the surprise. It's just a small gift. Some of our hunters believe it is the dungeon's way of luring trial-takers deeper in. The first crumb in the trail, if you were."

Garrelt folded his arms and nodded. "Makes sense. It's a common enough tactic, though not always quite as obvious as this one." He picked up his own slice and threw it into his mouth, continuing, "When I said 'minor,' I meant it, too. These might be quite the treat to someone in the lower Body stages, but they're nothing amazing in the end. Like Antchaser said, they're just the first crumb along the trail. Something to whet the palate."

Garrelt then tapped the seed, "That said, a wild, Deep-variety like this should fetch quite a bit more than whatever the Guild has growing on their farms."

Robert nodded and reached for the seed. With a wave of his hand, it vanished, likely into some storage item.

"That's good to know. I'll keep this safe for now," he said, turning to Antchaser. "With that out of the way, what next?" he asked.

Before the goblin to could respond, a new voice spoke.

"Good afternoon, soldiers!"

All four sets of eyes snapped to the monitor.

It no longer displayed a dark tunnel. Instead, it now showed a war-torn hellscape, hundreds of scorched craters lining a blacked field that stretched for as far as the eye could see, broken only by trenches lined with thorn-covered metal vines and wooden barricades. Antchaser instantly recognized the land as one of the training scenarios from Alpha's real dungeon. As they watched, something far in the distance exploded, sending up a massive cloud of dust accompanied by a fireball.

Antchaser's eyes glassed over, and his mind was filled with high-pitched whistling sounds as destruction fell from the sky. They were getting closer with each strike. One of his teammates tried to make a break for the next checkpoint, only to be mowed down as soon as they rose from behind the cover of the foxhole wall. His hands wouldn't stop shaking, making keeping hold of his rifle difficult. So did the blood covering it, though if it was his own or someone else's, he couldn't remember. The whistling death approached closer in a wall of fire and dust. From within, Antchaser could see two glowing orbs staring into his soul, as if the approaching death were a beast rushing to claim him.

Then, suddenly, it all vanished.

The foxhole transformed into the underside of the table, and Maggy's own warm orange eyes replaced the burning eyes of the Beast in the Flame and Dust. She stared under the table at him, obvious worry in her gaze.

Antchaser's bark-colored skin flushed, and he crawled out from under the table, retaking his seat.

Robert frowned at the goblin, but Garrelt gave Antchaser a knowing look. Antchaser looked to the side. "Sorry about that…" he muttered into his hand.

Before things could get any more awkward, the voice from the monitor spoke again.

"Welcome to the Dragon's Garden! As new recruits, I'm here to lie down some ground rules, so shape up and pay attention, ya maggots!' The speaker walked into view. They were not a human, however. Or any sapient race those present were aware of.

Instead, the creature that appeared was a… drawing? Or rather, the animated drawing of a bipedal ant wearing a bowl-shaped moss-colored helmet. Several shiny medals and other insignia were pinned to its carapace.

It marched on screen and turned to face them with a frown, one pair of legs behind its back. How Antchaser could tell an ant was frowning at him, he didn't know, but that was the distinct impression he got from the moving drawing.

Again, it spoke. "You're about to walk into a war zone, soldier! Those bloody slimes are at it again, working to undo all of our hard work! It's your duty to get in there and set things right. If we don't stop them, they'll devour the garden, then spill out into the capital like an unstoppable wave of destruction. Your first mission, should you choose to accept it, is to make your way through the garden and investigate the source of the infestation."

Robert stood and approached the screen. "Are you the Dungeon Core, good sir? We heard of your distress and have come to assist," he said with his brightest smile.

Despite that, the moving drawing continued to speak, ignoring the man.

"Don't let your guard down, however. You're not the first of the Queen's forces sent to investigate, though we've not heard anything back from them. Who knows what happened to them, so be wary and keep your eyes out. If you find anything, bring back proof, and you will be handsomely rewarded."

Robert's eye twitched while Garrelt laughed. "I think it's ignoring you!" the scout leader said.

"Strange. Are we already too late? Has it gone insane?" Robert asked. He really didn't want to have to destroy the Core. A dead dungeon wasn't worthless, but it was nowhere near the value of a working one.

Unheeding, the strange creature on the screen continued.

"Lastly, the Queen has given any intrepid treasure seekers the rights to rewards they may find inside the garden walls. Want more? Get out there and complete more missions, you maggots! This has been Sergent Alphantonso, signing off! Good luck, recruits, and Godspeed!"

"OH! I know what this is!" Maggy suddenly called out. The rest of the group turned and stared at her.

She grinned and pushed her glasses up her nose. "I've seen something similar in a few of the Old Ruins. The creature we're seeing isn't actually there. It's just a…" she waved her hand in the air, as if searching for the right words, "… moving record. An image that someone added their voice to and animated. It can't respond, as it's just a recording."

Garrelt raised a brow. "Like a memory crystal?" he asked.

Maggy nodded. "Yes, though more… limited in some ways. As I said, they're fairly common in the Old Ruins. Not that anyone can figure out how they work." She responded.

"Fascinating…" came Robert's response. "Does that mean this dungeon holds ties to the Old Ruins?"

Maggy shrugged. "Maybe? None of the architecture matches so far, but it's possible. It might just be an imitation, as well. It comes and goes in waves, but there was a time it was rather fashionable to mimic Old Ruin designs and methods."

"Was it the same for you?" Robert asked Antchaser. The goblin only nodded, not trusting himself to speak at the moment.

When Robert turned around, the scene on the screen had changed.

This time, there was no battlefield. Instead, a ball of static floated in a featureless black void.

A new voice spoke, this one Antchaser recognized as Alpha's own. As it did, the floating ball pulsed and squirmed in sync with it.

"Antchaser. If you're seeing this recording, then you did as I asked and got help. Good. Unfortunately, things have deteriorated, and I don't have time to speak directly. Make your way through the dungeon to the first rest checkpoint, and I'll have further instructions for you. Don't dawdle. Time is of the essence."

The screen flashed black, and the displayed image was replaced with a corkboard with two large posters pinned to it.

——————

—✦—

Primary Mission
- Investigate the sources of the infestation.

—✦—



—✦—

Sidequest
- Investigate what happened to the prior scout teams.

—✦—

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The screen then floated to the side as a section of the wall opened up, revealing a hallway and another door.

Robert stared down the hallway for a long moment with a frown, then looked at the screen before turning back to his team.

"Well, folks, you heard the Core. We have a mission to complete, so let's get moving!"
 
B2 - Lesson 44: "The Punch You Don't See Coming..."
Sorry for the delay, everyone! I lost power during the storms for most of the day, and just got it back late last night.
Here's Friday's chapter!

Also, WOOT! WE IT 1,000,000 VIEW ON ROYAL ROAD!
Thanks for all of the support, everyone! I really appreciate it.

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B2 - Lesson 44: "The Punch You Don't See Coming..."
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<< Alpha Log -

6952 SFY-Third Era, 6 standard months since Planetfall.

2 days since the beginning of
Operation: Safari Hunt >>

Before anyone says anything else, I would like to state for the record that technically, the Dragon's Garden counts as a training simulation, as defined by the native understandings of the term' dungeon.' As such, it in no way violates the terms of any previous contracts I may or may not have signed (under duress!) with Naughty Ducks Interstellar Games Inc.

All content found there-in is solely the work of ALPHA-555-12-4412 and the residents of Federation Expeditionary Outpost A-00-01-87643.

Any and all sibilance to previous works are purely coincidental.

Now, with that out of the way, let's get this show on the road!

Your first question is likely, 'But Alpha! Why bother?'

After all, isn't the goal of the Dragon's Garden a distraction?

Yes! Yes, it is!

But does that have to be all it is? Is not one of the key principles of planetary conquest the three Rs? Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle!

Reduce your dependency on extraplanetary resources by sourcing native equivalents.

Reuse your equipment to save time and resources! That Class-X Laser Bore works just as well boring through your enemy's armor as through the ground.

Recycle what you can, whether it's enemy supplies, equipment, or ideas. Why go through all the trouble of doing it yourself?

While the primary function of the Dragon's Garden is bait, both for the Adventurers and the approaching bandits, we have to think long-term here.

If my goal is to turn the cavern into a successful outpost of the Federation, then it needs a connection to the wider world. There's no telling how long I'll be here. The Federation might jump in tomorrow, or I might be stuck on this rock for the next century, building the infrastructure I need to crack the ice layer surrounding the planet.

Toward that end, a so-called 'dungeon' offers several benefits.

First, it's an active draw for natives, both Adventurers and those looking to possibly settle in the area. While I've found a few gems in the rough among the goblins, the quantity and quality of talent I'll need in the future will only grow from here.

This also gives me the opportunity to study these 'Cultivators' and 'Mages' in a controlled, more natural environment. My experiments with the bandits have been fruitful, but by their nature, they're not the most cooperative bunch.

A dungeon also offers the opportunity to discreetly spread Federation technology and ideas among the native population.

Why bother, you ask? Good question. My current identity won't last forever. The more I learn about the natives, study what little history I've been able to collect and connect the dots, the more I'm certain that this isn't first contact.

Too many things don't quite add for this world to not have had some interaction with the Federation.

Even if not the Third iteration.

My interactions with Jīshí, in particular, strike me as… odd. It hadn't wholly occurred to me at the time, but Jīshí's reaction to supposedly reading the memories of my 'soul' wasn't what one would expect from a native of a world with no apparent spacefaring capability. Even from possibly thousands of years old rock ladies.

She had shown a rather worried concern about my exploits (rude!), yet never once had she actually questioned concepts such as traveling between stars and planets or even life beyond the local star system.

Compared to her complaints about me personally (again, rude!), her reaction to that knowledge was muted. More of a… silent contemplation rather than world-view shattering revelations it tended to be for those in her situation.

As if she was already aware of such things.

The events with the Deadwood Tree only further strengthened my belief in this matter. After all, she had said the organism was responsible for destroying several planets prior. If that's true, it may even be the cause of the debris rings orbiting the rocky supergiant in the sky.

I can only attribute the delay in making these connections to the damage to my personality and processing cores. It makes me wonder what else I missed while recovering.

Not that she's getting away with STEALING MY TAWP!

Ahem, As I was saying… my identity as a 'dungeon core' will eventually come under scrutiny. More so, as more numerous and experienced Adventurers visited the cavern to explore the Dragon's Garden. I simply don't have the full scope of cultural understanding to play the role well enough.

Even the Adventurers here already seem to believe I'm some sort of aberrant… or am half-insane (RUDE! ALL OF YOU!). So, before the truth comes out, I must lie down a firm Federation presence in their hearts and minds. The goblins are already loyal, mostly — even if they don't yet understand to what or who — while Dr. Maria is a prime example of how loyalty can be bought with knowledge and technology.

I need to make the cavern, and thus the outpost, indispensable to the Adventurers. To where not only will the truth not phase them, but they will come to our defense if the need arises.

And so we come full circle.

Why am I putting so much time and effort into what should have been a simple redirect? Because If I can pull this off, it won't be just that. The Dragon's Garden stands to be the beating heart of the outpost from which the Federation's influence over this world will spread.

There was just one small problem I hadn't accounted for…

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"More of them are coming from the north!" Big Bert yelled, his billowing voice easily carried over the chaotic battlefield. At his words, a small group of goblin hunters and Adventurers broke off from the frontline. They rushed toward the northern wall just in time to see a horde of skittering creatures burst from the treeline.

A hundred carapaced creatures charged the walls, massive mandibles attached to even larger, bulbous heads clicking in chaotic disharmony. The sound was so loud that it nearly drowned out the defenders' cries and the clash of steel on insectoid armor.

Several larger creatures stayed near the back. Even compared to those charging forward, their heads were massive, dwarfing their body. On top of their heads sat a long, hollow horn. A deep blue light emanated from within, and one of the goblin hunters called out, "SHIELDS!"

Goblins pulled long poles from their backs and rushed forward along the northern line. They plunged the poles into the ground in front of the gathered defenders. The ball-like tops of the poles whirled before shooting into the air. At the top of their arcs, they unfurled into plates held aloft by spinning rotor blades.

The edges of rods and hovering plates sparked as a glowing white energy field swept outward to fill the gaps in between. At the same moment, each of the creatures at the back of the horde released a barrage of glowing blue slimeballs from their horns. The glowing balls of goop soared through the air in high arcs before slamming into the energy barriers and splattering across the solid light surface.

The burning substance caused the barriers to flicker and spark as it rained down on the charging horde. However, the creatures in question seemed barely affected by — or didn't care about — the burning blue substance as they, too, slammed into the barrier.

At a signal from Boarslayer, small holes opened in the deployed barriers, large enough for only one or two of the creatures to pass through at a time. The creatures took the bait, and the waiting Adventurers cut them down as they pushed through.

Alpha watched the entire process through several [Wasps] scattered around the battlefield before turning his attention to another one.

Deeper in the forest, an army of ants clashed with a horde of massive… termites?

At least, that's what Alpha thought they were. These creature's morphology seemed far more varied compared to the ants. Huge soldiers with snapping jaws were accompanied by smaller, agile ones whose only job seemed to hold down the larger ants. Intermixed were slower-moving termites who could shoot mortar-like globs of slime from long horns. Then there were the skittering balls of glowing blue the size of watermelons — like ticks gorged on blood — who would charge into the ant army. Only to explode and cover the surroundings in burning slime.

Alpha had almost missed that last type, as they were fast, and their heads and legs were tiny compared to their explosive abdomens.

Thankfully, the enemy's numbers were much smaller than his own army of ants. The termites seemed to favor these specialized units over the sheer number of the ants. The result was it took several natural ant soldiers to take down a single termite soldier, even if Alpha's intermingled Antonio-model antborgs helped even the odds.

The result was a rather unsettling stalemate of sorts, with each army pushing and losing ground in an unpredictable ebb and flow.

Occasionally — mostly those lines left to the natural ants — a few of the termites would slip through the defenders and swarm into the surrounding forward, attacking anything they came across.

With Alpha's warning, the goblin village and gathered Adventurers had reacted in time, but the termites were relentless, and Alpha had quickly allowed the use of a few tricks the goblins had 'won' from the dungeon.

It was more than he'd wanted to show so early in the game, but…

"This is kinda my fault…" Alpha said to the bobbing form of the incubating Antoinette. Despite the antborg still being a growing embryo, Alpha could almost feel her judging him.

She wouldn't have made such a silly mistake, after all.

"Don't give me that look, young lady!" Alpha said. "Anyone could have made this mistake!"

Antoinette bobbed doubtfully at him.

"Okay, OKAY! So maybe I got a little too excited at finding the source of the ant's 'nitro.' But can you blame me?! They never bring it back into the colony, and they only ever seem to produce it when under major threat!"

It had taken forever to figure out exactly how the nitro was produced, but once he had, Alpha had nearly kicked his own circuits for not seeing the obvious.

Chemical analysis of what little of the nitro-like substance he had collected showed it shared a similar composition to the golden 'honeydew' substance the ants harvested from the aphids in the root room.

At that point, he still hadn't figured out what exactly caused the change, but he still started stockpiling the resources. Alpha had even expanded the root room, digging out his own chambers so that he could tap the roots without disturbing the colony's natural farm.

That's when he had made his first mistake.

In retrospect, it should have been obvious that other organisms would take advantage of such a massive root system in some way. The woody roots spread out for hundreds of kilometers in all directions, and the ant's farm was only a small part of that.

What Alpha hadn't expected was to break into an entirely different colony, only a few kilometers away from the ant tunnels.

At first, Alpha had been excited at the prospect of absorbing another colony. However, That excitement quickly died as it became apparent that the termites weren't just farming the root system like ants, but devouring it. Surveys showed parts of the root system were infested with the creatures, and the damage was enough that entire sections had died.

The blue slime the termites secreted was highly acidic and particularly effective against the woody roots. Right now, they too only occupied a tiny section of the whole, but that wouldn't always be the case. If these creatures were like their smaller cousins, they would continue spreading so long as food was available. Left unchecked, there was a strong possibility that they could irreparably damage the root system.

If Alpha's theory that the ant napalm was somehow synthesized from the root sap, then that would ruin a lot of his plans. More so with this other colony being so close to his own.

So, Alpha had done something about it.

It had started with small raids on the termites. Alpha would send in antborgs to dig tunnels under the termites' own, then collapse them. His plan had been to cut the termite's access to the root system off little by little, hopefully starving them or forcing them away from away. At first, it had worked. Alpha would collapse a tunnel, and the termites would rush to try and clear it, only for Alpha to collapse another. Those termites trapped on the other side would be slaughtered by antborgs and collected for study.

Everything seemed to go well for a time.

Then Alpha had made his second mistake.

Or rather, it had been what he hadn't done.

Alpha didn't have the time or resources to exploit the termites as he had the ants, so he hadn't bothered to fully scout out the termites' colony. After all, if it was anywhere close to the size of the ant's, it could stretch for hundreds of miles and comprise tens of thousands of tunnels. With everything he had to deal with at the moment, Alpha hadn't bothered beyond sending a few MUD slimes and other scouts to look for something interesting.

So it had come as a surprise when termites broke into the goblin's cavern early that day. The insects poured into the forest, devouring the new source of fresh wood at astounding speeds. By the time Alpha could establish a response, the termites had invaded the ant territory, instantly triggering a war between the two colonies.

Part of Alpha knew that with the two colonies being close, such a thing was inevitable. But he also knew that his intervention and cutting off the termites from the root system had forced the termites to push out, accelerating the confrontation.

It didn't help that it came at the worst possible time.

Or maybe the best? It wasn't any stretch to say the Adventurers had been a boon to the defense of the village. To their credit, they had rushed to defend the village as soon as the first termite was spotted.

Bert, in particular, was defending the western wall practically by himself.

Something had to change, however, or they would be caught with their pants down when Icefinger's men arrived.

Thankfully, there was one blessing in this mess.

The ants had started producing napalm once more in response to the termites.

And Alpha had seen how…
 
B2 - Lesson 45: "Introduction To Loot - The Universal Languge."
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B2 - Lesson 45: "Introduction To Loot - The Universal Language."
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Alpha stared at the tiny blue mushroom inside the glass dome. The current Translight system he used to grow the fungi was basically jury-rigged. The mycelium of this species was rather slow to grow, and Alpha still needed to build something proper to handle the load. Even in the current setup, it had taken nearly thirty years of Translight time for the first mushroom to form.

Yet… it was worth it.

A small syringe was inserted into the mushroom, and a tiny amount of milky white substance was extracted. This 'milk of mushroom' — actually a type of latex — was then transported via a robotic rail to another room. Inside, an antborg waited, its abdomen swollen with a swirling, golden liquid.

Almost reverently, the mechanical arm holding the syringe injected the milky-white substance into the ant.

Then, the ant shook.

Or rather, its abdomen shook, vibrating at such speeds that it would have blurred in a mortal's eyes. As it did, the golden liquid mixed with the mushroom latex, and after only a few seconds, the concoction had turned an angry, glowing red.

"SUCCESS!" Alpha said as a dozen party streamers around the room popped at once, showering the antborg in colorful confetti.

The clues had been there all along.

Alpha just didn't have the context to understand.

After all, both the root sap and the mushrooms were a major part of the ant's basic diet. That combined, they could prove so… explosive seemed like it would have been a contradiction. Why would a creature intentionally ingest foods that could blow up in its face? Literally!

Well, it turned out the secret was in the ants themselves all along. Analysis of the ants showed that a special enzyme produced by the ant's stomach could break down certain parts of the mushroom latex. At the right proportions, this digested latex would react with the root sap, forming a natural explosive.

The ants could safely ingest both items safely, because the rest of the mushroom acted as a neutralizer, preventing the reaction.

When the colony was threatened, certain ants chewed on pieces of mushrooms, extracting the latex but ingesting none of the mushroom solids.

Alpha had kicked himself for not figuring this out sooner. The insects of the mushroom grove had been his biggest clue. Their explosive properties were likely caused by their habit of directly ingesting the sap from both the plant and fungi.

Moreover, the resulting compound seemed to have a narcotic effect on the ants, placing them in the strange, calm, trance-like state Alpha had observed earlier.

Not that it made much difference to Alpha. He had plans other than just letting his antborgs blow themselves up.

Alpha directed the red antborg toward one side of the room as the wall pulled back, revealing a long corridor with several targets at the far end. Alpha rubbed his metaphorical hands and grinned a mental grin.

"Activate… [Ant-nihilator]!" he ordered.

Two of the hotspots along the side of the antborg's thorax bubbled as the flexible nanites shifted and reformed. Then, two long tendrils pushed out and twisted into a pair of cones, the back ends large and bulbous, while the front ends collapsed into fine points.

The [Ant-nihilator] had been a conceptual design from the moment Alpha learned of the ant napalm. But with no working samples, he couldn't actually test the weapon outside of simulations — until now.

Almost giddy with excitement, Alpha gave the command.

"FIRE!"

Instantly, two burning lances of fire erupted from the tips of each cone, leaving a glowing trail of red aerosolized napalm in the air as they traveled.

The lance shot across the shooting range at high speed. It was maybe not as quick as an actual bullet, but it was rather impressive for what was mostly a highly pressurized jet of liquid. The best part was yet to come, however.

BOOOOM!

As the flaming lances struck the nearest target, it erupted in a massive fireball. What's more, the explosion raced backward, down the glowing trail of floating lights, triggering a succession of smaller, if still impressive, explosions along its flight path.

"IT WORKS! HAHAHAHAHHA!" Alpha cheered.

More confetti rained down from the ceiling.

Alpha pulled up the weapon schematics and examined them one more time.

The addition of the crystal rail projectile was a late stroke of inspiration from watching the mortar termites. The arrayed marble, the size of a pea, acted like an anchor for the spiritual napalm, allowing it to travel nearly 30% farther than simulations suggested otherwise. Alpha's refinement of the mushroom latex and root sap also allowed for aerosolized napalm left in the projectile's wake to pack a much stronger kick than he had predicted. Likely, the ant's own rough mixing method included too many impurities and mushroom solids to let the compound fully synthesize.

The [Ant-nihilator] would still need some testing and tweaking, but all the other numbers showed similar results to the simulations. Good, good.

Lucky for Alpha, some eager test subjects were practically knocking at his door to… volunteer. Hey, the termites had started this war. It was only fair.

————————————————————

"Robert! To your left!" Maggy yelled as a glowing blue hamster leapt at another mud-covered ant 'zombie.'

The distraction was enough for Robert to whirl and backhand the ant with his shield, sending it rolling several meters toward the edge of the forest clearing.

The blue hamster clung stubbornly to the ant's carapace. It gnawed at several weaker joints, cracking them in several places before a muddy tendril reached down and grabbed the summons, squeezing it until it erupted in a fiery ball of… well, fire.

The ant zombie, now with half its head missing, slumped to the ground. Antchaser rushed forward, a large 'rifle' in hand. He knelt down, aimed, and pulled the trigger. A thin, continuous beam of fire erupted from the weapon's tip and struck what remained of the zombie ant just as it rose.

Instantly, the mud-filled the carcass and bubbled and steamed until a few seconds later, all that was left was an empty carapace and a pile of dirt.

The four trailtakers paused and looked around the clearing.

"I think that was the last of them," Garrelt said, huffing.

"Oh, thank the Sisters!" Maggy exclaimed, collapsing onto her back. Another small blue hamster creature ran over and sat on her head.

Even Antchaser found his heart racing and breath heavy after the fight, despite knowing there was no real danger.

The goblin sighed, then nearly jumped out of his skin when Robert touched his shoulder. The high-level Cultivator easily blocked the stock strike drilled into him by his training. However, Robert didn't seem to take offense and instead smiled down at Antchaser.

"Well done out there, Mr. Antchaser," the team leader patted the goblin's shoulder. "I'm ashamed to admit I feared we might have to protect. But it seems my fears were unfounded. In retrospect, I assume it should have been obvious, what with you and your people having run this dungeon before."

Antchaser chuckled nervously and turned away. "Ah, no problem… sir. I… understand."

Robert smiled, white teeth flashing in the dim light of the forest. "Even so, I would like to apologize. I must say, though, that's quite the impressive weapon you have there, that… beam emitter, you called it? And you said such weapons can be found deeper in the dungeon?"

Antchaser nodded. "Yes, sir, though much farther in than we should be headed today," he said, shouldering the weapon.

Robert nodded. "Fascinating. I'm looking forward to seeing what other wonders this place holds." He then turned away. Antchaser frowned as the Adventurer did. The man's smile had seemed… odd to him, for some reason, though he quickly dismissed the feeling as just coming down from the battle high. There was a reason Antchaser preferred his traps to these kinds of head-on battles.

Antchaser steadied his shaking hands, then reached up and slid a lever on his weapon. A slot in the forearm slid open, and a small, dull crystal rod was ejected. It hit the ground and crumbled into dust. Antchaser reached into a pouch at his hip, removed a fresh, glowing crystal, and slotted into the same opening before pushing the level back into place.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, sir? Offering such weapons to the Adventurers as rewards? I understand that's… part of your purpose and all, but it feels like a bad idea," Antchaser said into his personal comms.

"Na, don't worry about that. These things are basically fancy welders. They couldn't even put a scratch on the armor I gave you and the other hunters." came Alpha's response.

"Just worry about showing our 'guests' a good time and leave the rest to me. I know what I'm doing here." The mad cackle that came over the comms sent a slight chill down the goblin's spine.

Most of the time, Alpha seemed calm and collected. The picture of what Antchaser would expect of a Dungeon Core. At other times, however — especially when the Core was scheming or overly passionate about something — Antchaser worried that maybe the Core had gone insane. He shook his head and sighed, his shoulders sagging.

"He's right, you know," Maggy said from her supine position on the grass. Antchaser flinched, then turned to look at her as she continued. "That weapon is fascinating. It's not too different from a [Fire Lance] staff or other similarly enchanted weapons, but I can't sense even the tiniest spirit or mana emission until the very moment it fires. That could be devastating in the right situations."

It took a second for Antchaser to realize the young Mage was speaking of Robert. They wouldn't be able to hear Alpha, as the comms were built into Antchaser's implants.

Maggy flipped over on her stomach and stared at the weapon with sparkling eyes. "You know… if you let me inspect it closer, I might be able to help with the efficiency issues!" she said, gesturing toward the pouch holding the shaped beast core charges.

Antchaser hesitated. If his actual weapon wasn't already leagues better, he might have let the Mage. Antchaser couldn't deny he wasn't a bit curious himself at how the weapon worked. But all of this was just for show, and besides, Alpha was footing the bill for ammo, so the cost wasn't really an issue for him.

After a moment, Antchaser shook his head. "Thank you for the offer, but I will have to decline, Ms. Greenwood. It's rather… fragile to such tampering and difficult to get. Until more is known in general, I don't feel comfortable letting others tinker with it," he responded.

Maggy deflated but didn't push the issue. It had been worth a shot at least, and besides, if what Antchaser had said was true, she could always get her own sometime in the future. One of the things that made dungeons so attractive to Adventurers was their habit of high quality and consistency with their rewards. More so if the dungeon was trying to spread an inheritance that required unique items or equipment.

"Gather up, everyone! It's time to see what we got this time!" Robert called out after everyone had rested.

Maggy and Garrelt shared a grin, then turned and walked toward the large round platform in the middle of the clearing. Antchaser shook his head and followed shortly after.
 
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