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

B2 - Lesson 20: "Let Them Do What They Do Best."
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B2 - Lesson 20: "Let Them Do What They Do Best."
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If Alpha had a face, he would be grinning from ear to ear at this moment.

Operation: Goblin Raid was progressing smoothly. Each team had done their part swimmingly, from gathering intelligence, to contacting the captured goblins, and even poisoning the alcohol and food. Each had done their job to the letter, taking the whole thing far more seriously than Alpha had.

Though he guessed that was to be expected. To Alpha, this was just an experiment. A way to test out some new equipment and gather data on these Adventurers and 'Cultivators,' the native's term for those with the strange Esper-like powers so common in this world.

Yet, for the goblins, this was their only chance to take back their home and rescue their loved ones. Even if Alpha hadn't intervened, he didn't doubt most would have tried to sneak into the village or attack the Adventurers in one way or another.

As it was, they were making effective use of the gifts they had 'earned' in Alpha's 'Dungeon.'

Alpha had to admit, he was somewhat enjoying his little roleplay as a 'Dungeon Core.'

Design a few tests, set up some VR obstacle courses, throw them into a few simulated war zones, etc.

Honestly, it wasn't much different from training new recruits in the expeditionary forces. The only major difference was that where most new recruits had to be eased into the battlefield, these goblins were already warriors. They were used to death and fighting and had taken to Alpha's training like fish to water.

He did have to rachet up the difficulty at one point, though. Standard military pain tolerances for new recruits in VR training was set to 33%, and the goblins could accept 'coming back to life' after death as just more 'Dungeon Core magic,' just like they had the time dilation. Yet, risk and reward, especially risk in a Dungeon, seemed hard-coded into their culture and lore.

If he just tried giving them equipment, then the goblins looked at the gesture with skeptical eyes, suspecting some kind of Dungeon trick or test. No, they had to earn the rewards with their blood, sweat, pain, and even their very lives.

After all, that's what a 'Dungeon' was. A place of testing, where the worthy earn grand rewards… while those who weren't, were weeded out.

Playing this dungeon game was a careful balance of ensuring the goblins got the equipment and training they needed via these 'trials.' While pushing the goblins hard enough that they felt they'd earned the rewards on their own merit.

All without crossing any lines that HR nags in the Federation could cite him for later down the road, of course.

The giant female named Boarslayer had been his toughest nut to crack. The woman was obsessed with what she called a 'warrior's pride' and absolutely refused to deviate from what she thought was the 'correct way' combat should be. Even if that meant being killed in VR dozens of times as the other goblins slowly adapted to their new equipment.

She could learn, if you could convince her something didn't infringe on that 'honor'. She wasn't stupid. Far from it, in fact. The giant goblin had a natural instinct for battle that reminded Alpha of some of the more powerful Federation elites.

Even so, to call the woman stubborn was an understatement of the highest order.

That's why when Antchaser suggested trying something… different, Alpha was skeptical. After all, the Federation's methods had been tried true for thousands of years. The Federation had perfected the art of warfare in all its forms.

What the smartest of the goblins had suggested, however, had been to stop trying to force Boarslayer into the same tactical roles as the other goblins.

Instead, let her do what Boarslayer did best;

Charge headlong into battle and smash the biggest thing she could find with the second biggest thing.

It sounded insane, and in many cases, probably would be. Yet Boarslayer was nothing if not a special case. Besides, the woman's enormous strength and battle prowess were too important to sideline.

So instead, they tried what Antchaser had suggested: let Boarslayer do what Boarslayer did best.

To that end, Alpha had to get creative with her new weapon. The standard Federation melee weapons weren't going to cut it here. Plasma blades didn't have the heft behind them to really make use of the woman's power. Meanwhile, the heavy weapons used by the more strength-focused augmented soldiers took decades to properly master.

They needed a simple weapon with enough bulk and power behind it to act as a force multiplier for the wrecking ball that was Boarslayer. At the same time, it had to be simple and easy enough to grasp that she could get the basics down in a few translight days or weeks of training.

It was the crooked nail sticking up out of Alpha's otherwise perfect plan, and he couldn't quite find the right hammer to bash it in with.

So that had got Alpha thinking. If his problem was a nail, why shouldn't he use a hammer?

With his creative circuits firing, Alpha got to work designing Boarslayer's new weapon, and after only a few scant hours, the [Megaton] was born.

In concept, the [Megaton] was a simple idea, being little more than a massive impact hammer on a stick. But just like the [Railjack], its simplicity belied its tremendous destructive capability.

With the help of systems he'd adapted from Federation dreadnaught shielding, the [Megaton] could absorb and store kinetic energy for later use. Even the energy of the user's own swing or the force of a blow.

That meant the faster the user could swing the massive hammer, and the harder they could hit something, the stronger the second blow from the built-in impact hammer would become. It was a near-perfect weapon for someone like Boarslayer, who relied on overwhelming force above all else.

There was only one major flaw. Despite Boarslayer's massive strength, the weapon was simply too big for her to use comfortably. That was an unavoidable facet of the weapon's design if they didn't want to compromise the kinetic absorption aspect.

That's where the second piece of the Boarslayer puzzle came into play.

The armor that the goblins had 'won' from Alpha were all standard Federation Expeditionary Force environmental exosuits. Form-fitting, armored, climate-controlled, and designed to mildly augment the wearer's base strength and agility. Sure, it was a step above what a recruit might receive fresh out of training, but nothing truly impressive in the grand scale.

Boarslayer's armor, however, had been so heavily modified that, as it stood, it might qualify as a miniature mech. Alpha could honestly say it had, at the very least, definitely crossed into power armor territory.

The large goblin's armor was not only equipped with much thicker armor than the standard version, but the strength augmentations had been boosted to a level that should have torn her arm off every time she moved. If the woman wasn't already a monster, that was.

Honestly, it wasn't something that would have ever been approved for actual use by the Federation, but Boarslayer had fallen in love from the moment she first put it on.

With her new weapon and armor, Boarslayer became a veritable natural disaster, wreaking untold destruction in the VR simulations.

Though both Alpha and Antchaser thought part of it was just the woman working out some of her frustrations from the previous training.

So, when it came time to implement their plan to retake the goblin village and put the Adventurers in their place, Boarslayer wanted to be front and center.

Who was Alpha to deny her?

After all, every good plan needed an eye-catching distraction.

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"RAAAAAWWWR!" Boarslayer once more wordlessly roared as she swung [Megaton] at the focus of her wrath. The shattered remains of a dozen or more shields lay scattered around the Adventurer. How many exactly, she didn't know; Boarslayer had stopped counting after the fifth.

Why did someone need so many shields?!

What use were shields in the face of overwhelming power?

Boarslayer swung the hammer again, reveling in the feeling of the impact, the sound of metal on metal, and the Adventurer's cries of mounting frustration and rage.

This is what combat was supposed to be. None of the skulking about or mind games Antchaser and the Dungeon Core insisted on. None of the kicking around helpless weaklings just because you were bigger and stronger, like the Adventurers seemed to love doing.

No; just two warriors facing off, one on one, testing their strength against the other. The fact that Bosco was half drunk and still shaking off the effects of the poison didn't really bother her. A real warrior should always be aware of what is happening in their body. That he was unskilled enough to be poisoned in such a way wasn't her problem.

Again, she swung her hammer, and again, Bosco blocked the blow, barely, with a summoned shield. A glancing blow from his axe scraped across her armor in retaliation, but it barely left a mark before the man was sent flying.

Bosco rolled for several meters before coming to a stop near the bonfire. The fire had dimmed somewhat, the fuel from the gate being quickly consumed, but it cast just enough light for Boarslayer to see the Adventurer grinding his teeth. The man's left arm hung limp by his side, a patchwork of bruise and torn muscle.

That he'd managed to take so many blows from [Megaton] was a testament to the Adventurer's resilience. Boarslayer had tested the artifact extensively during her trials with the Dungeon Core. She understood what kind of weapon of mass destruction she held in her hands.

But even Bosco's durability couldn't keep up, it seemed. Boarslayer grinned beneath her helmet.

She heaved the weapon over her shoulder and slowly walked into the bonfire's light.

Bosco stood on shaking legs and spit out a mouth full of blood. "You think this is over, goblin? Not a chance. I knew you lot were dim, but did you forget I wasn't alone? I wasn't running, you fool, just bringing you closer!" Bosco grinned and called over his shoulder, "BOYS! "

Only silence answered.

The man furrowed his brow and looked behind him, only for his eyes to widen and his jaw to slack. The gathered Adventurers were indeed behind him. Yet, not one of them remained standing. Most lay on their side, still, their arms and legs tied behind their back. Some were not so lucky, if the crimson pools glistening in the firelight underneath them said anything.

Roughly a dozen figures walked between the Adventurers. Each looked like a miniature version of Boarslayer, though their suits were less heavily armored, and did less to add to their overall profiles. Several moved from Adventurer to Adventurer, checking their bonds or stabilizing those who needed it.

Even his team leaders were down, each guarded by at least two figures on either side.

As for Seeker, Bosco had lost track of the man when they exited the longhouse. Who knew where he'd run off to…

Boarslayer laughed as she spoke, the helmet she wore giving her voice a slightly echoing quality. "Whoever said we were alone, either?"

Bosco turned back around and stared at Boarslayer.

The burning fire of rage in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a different fire. "Ha… hahaha… hahahahhahahaha!" Bosco burst into laughter, covering his face with his good hand.

The man shook his head and sighed. "I see… so this is how it ends. Just like my mother predicted; done in by goblins and thrown in some random hole in the ground."

He then turned and spoke to Boarslayer. "Well, are you going to keep hiding behind that fancy armor of yours? Or are you at least going to do me the honor of letting me see the face of the warrior who bested me?"

Boarslayer paused and tilted her head. She was silent for a moment, before her armor hissed, and the helmet folded down, like scales overlapping each other.

Bosco met her eyes and nodded as he spoke. "I see…—" the Adventurer then smirked, "—as ugly as I thought!"

Bosco's good arm suddenly bulged, swelling in size. Faster than the eye could follow, the man threw his axe toward the exposed head of Boarslayer. His axe flared with a pulse of spirit energy and quickly transformed into a green spinning blade in mid-air.

The air screamed as the spinning blade of death rocketed toward Boarslayer, and Bosco's smirk shifted into a wicked grin.

Only for Bosco's spinning axe to stop cold, as a shimmering field of blue energy sprang into existence in front of Boarslayer. The axe pushed harder against the energy barrier as if it had a mind of its own, but a shower of glowing sparks was the only result.

After a moment, the axe used up all of its energy, and fell lifeless to the ground.

Both Bosco and Boarslayer stared down at the spent axe, though the looks they wore were vastly different. Boarslayer simply humphed and stomped on the axe handle with a massive, armored foot, cleanly snapping it in two.

Boarslayer turned toward Bosco. It was her turn to grin.

The giant woman took a single step forward and vanished.

The next breath, she reappeared in front of the man, [Megaton] already mid-swing. With an audible 'thump,' the giant hammer caught Bosco directly in his chest.

Between one heartbeat and the next, the Adventurer became a blur, and he rocketed backward, crashing through the front of the longhouse.

The building rumbled, then collapsed in on itself.
 
This sounds more like what Alpha has spent a long time doing. Maybe not exactly this, bu at least arming the natives and causing stupid amounts of problems while he builds up his own forces.

Hero of the repressed, at least until they realize the only reason he doesn't give grenades to children is because he doesn't want to deal with the reprimands.
 
B2 - Arc 1 Epilogue - "Remind Them Who's in Charge."
And so ends the first arc of the second book!
Hurrah!
Thanks for sticking around and supporting the story everyone!
As mentioned before, the next chapter will be this coming Tuesday!
If you feel like you can't want and want to see what happens next in out story, the patreon is currently 12 chapters ahead!
Go take a look!

Alpha Strike - Patreon page
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B2 - Arc 1 Epilogue - "Remind Them Who's in Charge."
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Seeker stood atop the massive tree, his arms folded behind his back. A deep frown fell over his face as he stared into the goblin village from a distance. This was… less than ideal. He'd known Bosco was an idiot; why else would the Boss send him to ensure the fool stayed in line?

Bosco had only been allowed to take the newest members and those with the lowest potential on his little expedition. The fools had seen it as a chance to prove themselves. A way to claw their way out of the lowest rungs of the gang.

They never even considered they were just the sacrificial lambs. Scouts sent out to test unknown waters and gather information for their betters.

No, neither he nor Icefinger had really expected much from the man, or his band of misfits.

Who would have ever believed it could turn out like this, however?

A new passage to the Deep Tunnels. A totally untouched biodome. Treasures around every corner, all guarded by nothing more than a small tribe of cave goblins.

It was the kind of the find adventurers dreamed of. The discovery that should have catapulted even the greenest adventurer into the analogs of history. It was the kind of thing you expected to hear in stories and myths, not actually see happen in real life.

Yet, somehow, Bosco had messed it up.

Seeker humphed and shook his head.

Oh well. He'd gathered more than enough information to bring back to Icefinger. As he watched the goblins dig through the wreckage of the longhouse, Seeker lept backward off the tree, and disappeared into the darkness.

Almost a day later, the man stepped out of the opening the adventurers had uncovered and into the light of early sunrise. Seeker stretched and yawned, enjoying the warm glow of the morning sun on his skin. He always enjoyed coming back up from the Deep Tunnels. It was so dark and gloomy down there. Lumoss was fine for lighting your way, but nothing beat real sunlight.

Seeker turned toward Halirosa and calculated how long it would take to return on his own. He absentmindedly wondered if he would have enough time to stop by that quaint little teahouse they'd passed by.

A sudden noise of falling gravel from behind caught his attention, and he quietly turned around. A young man slowly dragged himself over the ledge, wheezing. The young man flopped on his back as soon as he was over the edge and raised a fist to the air. "Take—cough—that, you giant, huff, bastard!"

"Oh? So you actually made it back up? Only took you a few days, too. Not terrible. Thomas, was it, right?" Seeker laughed.

The young man, Thomas, nearly jumped out of his skin as he sat upright and stared at Seeker, his eyes wide.

"Yes! I mean—Sir! Seeker Sir? You're back already?! Where are the others?!" Thomas' heart fell as he failed to see anyone else with Seeker. "Did I miss it?! That fat bastard! I'm going to kill him, I swear!"

Thomas ground his teeth and stood, his legs shaking under the effort. It had taken nearly a day and a half to recover enough from the fall to move well. Then, three more to make the climb back up. Sure, he could have rested at the bottom of the mountain, but the Crimson Mountains were a dangerous place. It was better to be on a cliffside where few things could reach him than to end up as an easy meal for something wandering the valley before he recovered.

The young man limped toward the cave entrance, but was stopped by a smiling Seeker, his hand outstretched.

"I like you, boy. You've got a fire in you. Don't worry about Bosco and the other riff-raft. They're having their own… fun. There's no need to go sticking your head in there. Never know what might try to bite it off." He then turned and started walking toward Halirosa. "Come, follow me. We need to report our findings to Icefinger."

Thomas clenched his teeth so hard he could have sworn he tasted blood. Or maybe that was just his wounds opening back up. "Bullcrap! Do you have any idea how many people I had to bribe or how many favors I had to call in to get on this expedition?! I'll be damned if I let that lowlife make a fortune while I run back home with my tail between my legs!"

Seeker paused. Then, slowly, he looked over his shoulder and stared at Thomas. "I said come."

Though the man's voice was calm and leveled, Thomas froze, his body instinctually trying to make itself look as small as possible. He couldn't even shiver. His brain told him if he so much as twitched, that would be the end; like a mouse being stared at by a falcon.

The man in front of him wasn't the same man who'd silently followed behind Bosco and offered advice. That meek-looking, weaselly man who looked more at home in a merchant's caravan than a gang of rough adventurers.

No. This was a predator in human skin, and Thomas' instincts screamed at him that if he ignored Seeker, he wouldn't have to worry about something in the tunnels getting at him.

With unblinking eyes, Thomas slowly nodded, barely managing to squeak out, "Y—yes sir…" before turning away from the tunnel entrance and taking his place behind Seeker.

Seeker smiled, and just like that, the predator was gone, replaced with the weaselly merchant man once more. "Good! Good! Hurry along now. If we make good time, I'll bring you somewhere nice. And don't worry about what trifling things the others are getting into down there. I'm sure the Boss will reward us both handsomely. You have my word."

He then turned away and began walking down the mountain pass, whistling a merry tune.

Thomas took one last look at the tunnel entrance and followed behind.

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The goblins took roughly 20 minutes to clear away the rubble of what had once been their longhouse.

When they finally pulled Bosco out, everyone, including Alpha, was shocked to find the man still lived.

For a mortal, having the entirety of your chest caved in would have been more than enough to end them. Yet it seemed the peak [Shackle Breaking] cultivator was made of tougher stuff. Antchaser even suspected the man had taken steps to form a pseudo-core in preparation for his transcendence.

A foolish thing, from what little Antchaser knew of the higher realms. There was a reason that cultivators waited until the [Earthly Transcendent] realm before forming their core. Sure, a pseudo-core might offer some measure of strength beyond the typical, but those that did never reached any proper height of power.

It ate away at your potential and ruined your foundation on a fundamental level. Or at least that's what all the stories and legends said.

Of course, as soon as they pulled him free of the rubble, Boarslayer pushed her way past the other goblins and stared down at the man. A fire burned in her eyes, like she took some offense at seeing that the man had survived.

Well, 'survived' might have been too strong of a word at this point. With the way the man's spirit energy was flickering like a candle in the wind, he would succumb to his injuries soon, regardless of whether the goblins intervened.

If the way Boarslayer's grip tightened around the shaft of her massive hammer said anything, Antchaser questioned if the man would live long enough to do so.

The giant goblin took a heavy step forward, lifting [Megaton] in one hand, when a voice cut through the silence, echoing in their helms.

"No."

Alpha spoke through their equipment's built-in comms. "We had a deal. Any of them that survive get sent to me. That includes this one."

"Bullcrap! This one is mine! I'll not let this bastard get the chance to escape! Not after everything he's done!" Boarslayer snarled.

She raised [Megaton] over her head and swung with all her strength. If one hit wasn't enough to kill the adventurer, she'd just have to hit him again. And again. And again, until the job was done. It was a strategy that had yet to fail her.

Yet, as the massive hammer swung down with enough force to crumple armor, Boarslayer froze.

Or rather, her armor did.

Boarslayer roared, struggling against the armor that had suddenly become an unmoving prison. The other goblins hastily backed away from the raging woman. Only Antchaser approached, gently laying a hand on the woman's wrist.

"Boarslayer. It will be fine. Alpha won't let him, or any of them, escape. I promise," Antchaser said, speaking softly.

Still, the woman raged for several more minutes before finally exhausting herself. Alpha released the controls on the armor, and Boarslayer fell to one knee. She stayed there for a moment, panting.

Alpha calmly spoke through the comms, channeling his inner Si'dia. "No need to fear, Ms. Boarslayer. They don't get the same opportunities as you had. No, I have my own… plans for them."

An icy chill swept down Antchaser's spine at those words, but Boarslayer said nothing.

Instead, she stood, stared down at the still form of Bosco, then screamed and flung [Megaton] into one of the nearby empty buildings. The weapon crashed through the hut like a wrecking ball, and Boarslayer stalked off.

Antchaser sighed and shook his head. "It would be best to give her some time alone. Boarslayer has never been one to take being told what to do well," the man spoke to Alpha through their armor's comms.

Alpha mentally shrugged, then turned his attention elsewhere.

Antchaser bent down and touched Bosco's neck. The surface of his armor bubbled, and a thin line of material flowed off, wrapping around the adventurer's neck before sinking into their skin like a tattoo.

That job done, he turned and stared off after Boarslayer.

She'd likely sulk for a while, then wander off to see if any unpoisoned ale was left. The woman wasn't as big of a drinker as some of the other hunters, but she knew how to celebrate a successful hunt as well as any of them.

And this? This was a hunt that would go down in legend.

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Robert clapped his hands and glanced around the room as the gathered adventurers turned their attention to him.

"Hello, everyone; I'm glad you all arrived safely! I hope you have prepared well over the last month! Now, I know for some of you, this will be your first expedition, while for others, it'll be just one more notch under your belt! The guild and I strongly encourage the former to seek the latter out and inquire about anything you may have missed. I understand that all of you are experienced adventurers with dozens of missions on your record, but scouting expeditions like this tend to be unpredictable. New tunnels are dangerous, and one should always be prepared for the unexpected!"

The gathered adventurers, roughly a dozen, muttered to each other in the cramped guild room. After last month's debacle, where information of their scouting mission had leaked, through bribes and other… unpleasant means, the guild had rushed to fill spots. The result was a less experienced team than Robert had hoped for.

That said, many of the key people they'd need for this expedition were still present.

The Runic Expert, Magnolia Greenwood. She might have been young, but 'Maggy' was one of the foremost experts regarding ancient runic arts and the ruins they were found in. Not only that, but she was an adept mage of various schools, and while she was new to the adventuring scene, she had a near-spotless record for success.

Geralt Riverwalker, Master Infiltrationist, and the best tracker Robert had ever met. The man was said to hunt down creatures that would have given cultivators an entire realm over his own, pause. All by himself. Whether or not there was any truth to these claims, the fact remained that Geralt was an expert in surviving in the most dangerous parts of the Crimson Mountains.

Finally, there was Robert 'Bert' Murphy, the 'other' Robert commonly seen in the East Halirosa guildhall. He'd taken to calling himself Bert after one too many people had gotten the two of them confused. Compared to Robert, Bert was a large, quiet man of few words. Many assumed he was a bit of a dullard and a brute, but those who knew him well knew the truth. Bert was a master of combat, and he had taught many of the larger adventurers in the guild how to use their size and strength for things other than just barbarically overpowering their opponent.

Coupled with a few other experts in various fields, Robert felt confident they could handle anything this mission threw at them.

The meeting only took a few hours to hack out some of the finer details, but once that was through, the group marched as one toward the city gate.

As they passed through, someone caught Robert's eye.

"Mr. Milford! Good to see you! Are you returning from a trip?" Robert called out, furrowing his brow and looking around, not seeing the typical caravan accompanying the man. Mr. Milford, a wiry man whose perpetual smile widened at the sight of Robert, opened his arms and called back. "Robert! My boy! It's good to see you. Yes, though nothing long, just a personal business trip. It got a little rough near the end, but I'm glad to be home."

Robert turned and addressed the group. "Everyone! I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Milford! President of the Milford Shipping Company! I've done several escort missions for the man, and it's always a pleasant time. He pays well, too, so that's a bonus! Hahahahha!"

Mr. Milford laughed along and shook his head, "Now, now, my boy, don't be going telling everyone that. You'll drive my costs up!"

Robert peered over the merchant's shoulder to see a ragged-looking young man hanging nearby. "Though I must admit, your companion is new to me. Hello, young man!" he said. The boy looked like the trip had been far harder on him than it had on Mr. Milford, if the dusty clothes and heavy bags under his eyes said anything.

Mr. Milford glanced over his shoulder, then back to Robert. "Ah, yes. My newest apprentice. The boy still needs work, but I'm sure you understand how those things go, yes?"

Robert nodded sagely, before smiling and s, "Of course. Well, it was nice to see you, Mr. Milford. Give my regards to the rest of your team. I have a mission of my own to get to! Fair well!"

"Fair well to you, too, my boy!" Mr. Milford said, grabbing the adventurer's hand in both his own and shaking it. The two shared a smile as they parted, and the groups went their separate ways.

As Robert turned back toward the road, he slipped a small piece of paper into the gap of his vambrace.
 
B2: GRIM Adventures - 9
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Small recon! Jill has been bumped to Silver Spirt, and Jack to Fifth-Circle (mage silver spirit equivalent) to better fit the power scaling between Halirosa and the Radiant Sea.

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B2: GRIM Adventures - 9
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The unlikely group made good time out of Morgana's mountains. Once they passed through the valley, the group encountered little more dangerous than the common fair in this part of the Crimson Mountains. Whether that was because more dangerous creatures instinctually avoided the territory of the powerful Elder Mimic, or because Morgana rarely let such creatures through, was unknown.

Jill didn't particularly care, however. She was just glad to be done with the matter. The more distance they put between them and the mimic's remains, the better. Once they arrived at their next destination, she could send word to the Guild and have someone properly deal with the situation.

She agreed with her brother that it was a shame to lose the tree like this, but it was never really something they could have claimed in the first place. Besides, something told her that most of the value of the tree had already been used up. Jill glanced at the much larger gopher riding atop the giant Lykos walking beside her.

As a peak [Silver Spirit] Cultivator, Jill was above average for many young adventurers, but she was still far from a true prodigy. Yet it had been that same pride in her strength that had led her to foolishly challenge Icefinger. Sure, she'd heard the rumors, but the man hadn't been an active adventurer for literal decades, growing fat as he feasted on Halirosa's underbelly. She had been confident that she would have a chance as long as she caught him off guard.

She'd been wrong.

Despite the man's appearance of having gone soft, he had proven that a core of ice and steel lay under all that fur. Jill wasn't even sure the man had noticed her, until she was already a shivering heap at his feet. He hadn't even bothered to ask her name; he just stared down at her and laughed, then had his men toss her in the streets.

That was a common theme with the crime lord. He never actually killed anyone. It was 'bad for business' in his words. Yes, that didn't mean his cruelty was any less absolute. Like any good Winter Mage, Icefinger's magic seeped into his victim's bodies, slowly sapping them of warmth and life. Those with the strength or proper affinities, like Jill, could fight off the effects for a time, sometimes even years, but it was a hollow life that drove some to madness.

Those who couldn't fight the [Winter's Bite] were often forced to sell themselves to one of the large clans or sects in the hope of a cure. Many ended up crawling back to Icefinger himself, in a twisted irony.

Jill shook her head and cleared her mind off that rabbit trail. There was no reason for dwelling on things she couldn't change now. Instead, she turned her attention to the gopher.

'Mr. Gopher', as Grim called him, was a mystery. Not that the strange artifact spirit wasn't a mystery herself. If she told anyone back in Halirosa that a Root Gopher was two steps and an entire Realm above her, she would have been laughed out of the guildhall. Hell, if someone else had told her that, she would have laughed too.

Even now, she couldn't sense much more than the odd fluctuation of mixed earth and fire energies from the abnormally large creature. It had grown since absorbing the fruit from the burning tree. Where before it only reached her knee (still large for his kind), the gopher now came up to her mid-thigh, a notable difference. Their light brown fur, mixed with swirling dark patches like tree roots, had taken on a darker, red-tinted color. Like rust, maybe clay… or dried blood.

That last one may have just been her imagination, though, given how much the gopher seemed to enjoy combat, maybe not as much as she thought.

Still, she wouldn't deny her pride had been slightly dented, having lost her place as the strongest of the group. Though, given what she suspected, maybe that had been inevitable.

The gopher's abnormal strength and intelligence.

The way the heavens favored them with how treasures seemed to land in their lap one after another.

How dangers seemed just as attracted to them as treasures were…

Only one word echoed through her head when she thought about all of this.

Progenitor.

There was no other explanation in Jill's mind. Once or twice could be called a fortunate encounter. Yet none could deny that the gopher had Heaven's Blessing.

The only question was, did that mean it was a blessing for them as well? …Or was it a curse?

Many people dreamt of meeting a true Progenitor. The legends and stories all told of the riches and power that followed in their wake. Of the clans and sects uplifted to heights unimaginable by their hand. But as a direct descendant of Jonny Rubyseed, the Progenitor of her own clan, Jill had a slightly better perspective on the matter than the general public.

Sure, Progenitors were favored by Heaven. Some would even say treasures sought them out, not vice versa. Yet, for every blessing came a trial. For each of the rewards the Heavens seemed to shower on a Progenitor, came struggles and hardships that no mortal should ever have to face. For the Heavens weren't simply looking for a special snowflake to uplift, but for someone worthy. Worthy of being more than they were, more than they should have been.

A Progenitor's journey was as much a test as it was anything else, and more often than not, it wasn't the Progenitor themselves that had to deal with the fallout, but the people around them.

For every clan uplifted by a Progenitor, a dozen more fell into ruin. For every treasure claimed, someone else, just as worthy, went without.

A Progenitor's throne was built on bones, and only the lucky few would catch the dragon's tail as it ascended.

So Jill found herself at a crossroads.

The young girl inside her, the one who'd grown up on the stories of Jonny Rubyseed and all his adventurers, couldn't help but feel giddy with excitement. It was rare enough for a clan to gain the favor of one Progenitor, but two? This could be the chance they had been waiting for, ever since the Rubyseed clan began their decline.

The more experienced adventurer inside her, who had seen the world for what it was, and knew it was not always like in the stories, worried what such a thing might cost them.

She would have to find a time to speak with Jack. Alone.

Her brother might have been… less than reliable in some aspects, but he often brought a different perspective to things in a way that Jill had relied on over the years. It had more than once been her older twin's calm words and gentle hand that had prevented her from bashing in some foolish young master's teeth.

Jill sighed and shook her head.

That would have to wait, though.

As they neared their next destination, another problem jumped to the forefront of Jill's mind. Her eyes drifted from gopher to the giant Lykos upon whose head he sat.

Jill's frown deepened, wondering how she would explain this one.

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"I don't know, Jill, this seems like a bad idea…" Jack said. His gaze slowly turned to stare at the town off in the distance. His frown deepened.

Jill folded her arms and tilted to one side. "You're the one who wanted to bring him along. Now it's time to pay the piper. We can't leave Little Red in the mountains. Not without leaving… 'Mr. Gopher'… to watch him…"

Said gopher eagerly chittered, as if to say he wouldn't be left out of the fun like that.

Jill turned to look at him, then sighed and turned back to Jack. "Remember where we're at. There's no telling what kind of trouble Little Red will get into all by himself. At the very least, we'll be the ones blamed for it. At least this way, we can lay all our cards out on the table and control the situation. Be proactive instead of reactive."

Jack's shoulders sagged, and they looked over at Little Red. The Lykos in question only simply tilted their head in a strangely dog-like fashion. Jack shook his head and said, "That's true… we've barely gotten him to stop chewing on Grim—," Little Red's head snapped to her at the mention of the AI's name. Grim slowly floated away, her optical sensors never letting the creature out of her sight.

"—who knows what trouble he would get into on his own…" Jack finished.

Jill's own shoulders slumped as well, and she turned toward the main road, heading toward the town.

"Well, let's get this over with…" she said.

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Ashdale Vally was a bustling town, given its remoteness. It had started off as just another clan outpost, but as the decades passed, the richness of the surrounding mountains drew in more and more settlers, transforming it into a proper satellite city. Most were hoping to get away from the overcrowded hunting grounds surrounding Halirosa proper, while others simply enjoyed the quiet valley community, away from the chaos of the larger city.

It helped that the controlling clan, the Ashdales, were strict but fair in their rule. Corruption was minimal, and the clan leaders were all seen as upstanding men and women of honor, while their adventurers were considered a tier above the more common clans. Their influence had grown so much in the past few generations that they had even earned a seat in the Halirosa Senate, further bolstering their power and control of the area.

The only actual concern in the Ashdale Vally and its surrounding mountains was the frequent incursions by the various Lykos packs. Said to be the remains of the Lykos army that once fought with the Ashdale's Progenitor for control of the area, the Lykos lost, and regressed into a bestial people, stuck between animal and man.

Ever since, the feud between the Ashdales and the Lykos has been constant, despite several attempts by the Ashdale to eradicate the pests fully.

All that was to say, Jill had expected this very situation from the start…

"K-keep your hands up! You head me?! One move a-and we'll run you through!" Two dozen shivering wolf-men surrounded their group, heavy spears pointed inward. Jill stood in front, her hands raised in the air, and her face blank.

Behind her, Little Red crouched low to the ground, his fangs fully bared and his eyes dilated. The deep growl that emanated from the massive creature shook the ground and vibrated in Jill's chest. If it wasn't for Jack's soothing words and calm tone as he stroked the creature, Jill didn't doubt the Lykos would have lept on the gate guards already, and torn them to shreds.

Nor did she doubt it could have done so easily, either.

After all, while the guards were impressive for a city this size, with most being low [Golden Spirit] cultivators, the highest was only mid-step. On the other hand, Little Red unabashedly blasted his full peak [Shackle Breaking] aura for all of them to feel. Jill knew the creature had been powerful when it faced them on Morgana's mountain, but even she'd been shocked when she felt to what extent.

If the gopher hadn't intervened when they had, she doubted any of them would have ever left the mountain in one piece. It didn't help that said gopher was standing on top of Little Red's head, tapping his foot and looking visibly annoyed at the whole situation.

So it was no surprise that when they approached the gates of Ashdale, they'd been immediately surrounded.

As the standoff dragged on, and tensions rose, Jill ran through all the scenarios and the best ways to resolve them. If she could just—,

All of Jill's plans were thrown out the window as a rugged voice suddenly broke the stalemate. "What is the meaning of this?! Who are you, and why have you come here?!"

Jill flinched as a large wolf-man in fine clothes pushed his way through the crowd of guards.

Unlike the siblings, whose clan was old, and thus took on a more human-like appearance, the Ashdales were still a relatively young clan, closer to their spirit beast Progenitor. Yet despite looking more like a bipedal wolf in noblemen's clothes, no one would ever call Baron Levi Ashdale beastly. The man carried himself with a noble aura that many, even in the larger clans, failed to emulate. It was an aura that commanded respect as easily as it portrayed a steady rock on which to find shelter.

Jill blushed slightly and lowered her hands to address the new arrival, when a sudden roar cut her off.

To her horror, Jill turned just in time to see Little Red leaping over her, his jaws opened wide, and clawed hands reaching out toward the much smaller Baron.

Jill's heart dropped as he followed the beast's arc in slow motion.

Baron Ashdale's eyes narrowed at the sight, and he unfolded his arms from behind his back.

In a motion that felt as slow and smooth as a parent catching the playful strike of their child, Baron Ashdale caught both of Little Red's outstretched claws in his own hands. Little Red stopped dead, seemingly unable to move an inch closer, or even bend their front limbs further, despite their back legs digging deep furrows behind them. Instead, they contented themselves with snapping their jaws viciously at the smaller man just out of reach.

Then, with a twist of his wrist and a yelp from Little Red, Baron Ashdale flipped the massive creature into the air, before slamming the massive creature on their back, hard.

Little Red yelped again, and whined pitifully as the awkward position put strain on their wrists, no matter how they struggled against the Baron's grip.

Mr. Gopher's form suddenly appeared in the air above Ashdale. Like a glowing small fireball, the furry creature descended in a familiar fashion. Ashdale's eyes widened, and he released Little Red, hastily dodging backward and away from the small meteor gopher.

Mr. Gopher slammed into the group where Ashdale had stood, forming a small crater. Instead of pursuing the wolf-man, however, the gopher only stared at him with narrowed eyes, then turned to Little Red.

… and kicked the prone Lykos in the head.

Little Red yelped, flipped over, and covered his head with his paws. They lay like that, shivering as the gopher angrily chittered at them, wagging a small furry digit.

Jill hovered her face with her palm and sighed, feeling another headache slowly creep in.

Baron Ashdale, for his part, watched the scene with a frown, his eyes narrowed. Slowly, the frown slipped upward, and the man suddenly burst into laughter, causing all eyes to turn toward him.

"Well, now. It seems we have some things to talk about, I believe. Come, follow me. Oh, and bring you… pet?… with you. I'm afraid there are few presently in the city qualified to watch over him while we speak." Ignoring the stuttering protests of the guard captain, Baron Ashdale turned and made his way toward the city gates. He glanced once over his shoulder and waved for them to follow.

Jack and Jill shared a look. Jack only shrugged and walked after the Baron. Jill shook her head and followed, with Grim and Little Red, watched closely by Mr. Gopher, trailing behind.

As the city gates closed behind them, Jill questioned, not for the first time, if it was a mistake coming here.



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So there's less confusion. I thought I should clarify. Yes, both the Ashdales and Lykos are based on werewolves.

Though what kind differs.

The Lykos are the more feral, beastal variety, strongly leaning toward a more wolf-like form.

(For example) https://db4sgowjqfwig.cloudfront.net/campaigns/96321/assets/548820/feral_bite.jpg?1453521621


While the Ashdales, in contrast, are the more humanoid type, though retaining strong wolf-like features.



Another way of thinking of it is that Lykos are your "traditional" Werewolves, where the Ashdale are closer to Beastkin. Please tell me if this wasn't very clear in the story so far, and I'll work on shoring that up.
 
B2 - Lesson 21: "Not Even Conquerors can Escape the Bureaucracy."
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B2 - Lesson 21: "Not Even Conquerors can Escape the Bureaucracy."
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The man kneeling in the middle of the room was silent, their glassy eyes staring down at the ground. In contrast, the crowd behind them, separated by a low barrier, yelled and cursed, several throwing small stones at the man. Whether the man didn't respond due to fear and shock, or simply because of his higher cultivation, Antchaser didn't know. He highly doubted it was because of guilt, however. The man kneeling in the dirt wasn't the first to try to justify their actions that day.

A voice cut through the sound of the roaring crowd. A flat, monotone voice that felt somehow… wrong to Antchaser's ears, "Order! Order!"

When the room grew silent, the source of the voice, one of three large ants sitting behind a tall podium, turned and addressed the young woman to one side. "Thank you, Ms. Weaver, for your testimony. Bailiff, please escort the witness."

The 'bailiff,' a hunter in full combat gear, stood and gently led the weeping goblin woman back into the crowd, where she was embraced by her remaining family.

The three ants, whom Alpha claimed were controlled by 'Federation-approved Judicial AI,' froze. Antchaser had seen the sight enough times that day to know the strange creatures were communicating with each other in their own way.

"I still don't see why we must go through all this…" Antchaser asked, not to himself, but to the small wasp-like insect on his shoulder.

Alpha, controlling the [Wasp], responded. "Because, my dear boy, I don't need the brass breathing down my neck when they look through my logs and see I didn't go through the proper steps."

Antchaser waved his hand and complained, "What's the point though?! They're bandits! You know that, I know that. Why not simply execute them and get it over with?!"

Alpha sighed, "Yes. They are. Yet Federation law states any captured hostile combatants have the right to defend themselves in trial." Well, that was the official stance. Anyone who'd spent any length of time in the Federation military knew that the Federation didn't like to execute bandits.

It was a waste of resources.

Captured bandits would often be assigned work detail as scouts or miners on the fringes of Federation space, where the infrastructure didn't support larger drone operations. After all, why risk the lives of lawful soldiers and civilians in such dangerous places, when you had plenty of 'volunteers' able to do the work instead? Some of the lucky or more skilled ones even managed to survive to the end of their sentence! It was a win-win for everyone — other than the ones that got eaten, of course.

Regardless, Alpha could understand where the goblin man was coming from. They'd been at this all day, and only a handful of these 'Adventurers' had shown any kind of remorse for their actions. Even for bandits, it was strange.

"Why this circus, though?" Antchaser said. "Why create these—" he waved to the ants behind the podium, "—'judges'? Why not simply do so yourself?"

Alpha shrugged. "I don't have the authority to pass legal judgment."

"…. but you made them," Antchaser responded.

"I did." Alpha nodded.

"How does that even work?!" The goblin exhaled, cupping his head in his hands.

Alpha patted the young goblin on his shoulder. "Welcome to the world of bureaucracy, my friend. I would tell you to run, but it's already too late."

It had been a week since they'd recaptured the village, and Antchaser was still coming to terms with some of the Dungeon Core's… eccentricities. The legends and stories always spoke of how Dungeon Cores were powerful masters of their realm. Beings who held life and death in their hands and judged the worthy.

To learn that such a being was beholden to other powers had come as a shock. More so since the ways of this 'Federation' were almost as strange as Alpha themselves.

If it wasn't for the powerful artifacts and strange mysteries he'd witnessed, Antchaser would have questioned if the Dungeon Core wasn't simply insane. He didn't even know that was possible! Not for the first time that week did Antchaser internally question if he had made the right choice in seeking aid from Alpha.

"Why exactly do they have to wear those outfits?" Antchaser asked, gesturing to the ant judge's flowing, silky black robes and the large, powdered wigs sitting on each of their heads.

"…. Tradition," Alpha responded.

"…. Right." Antchaser shook his head and chose to stop asking questions. Partly for his own mental health, and partly because the ant judges twitched back to life at that moment.

"Ki'tan of the Duststalker Clan," the middle ant judge spoke. "This court finds you… Guilty of all charges brought against you, including, but not limited to, banditry, assault, theft, destruction of property, and resisting arrest by a Federation-approved militia force. In accordance with Federation law, you are sentenced to 50 standard years of hard labor. Due to current circumstances outside the control of this court, your sentence will be postponed, and custody will be passed to the Federation Expeditionary Force under [SEAU - 01] Lieutenant Colonel ALPHA-555-12-4412, until such time that proper accommodations can be met. Good behavior may warrant time served; petitions can be made after 10 years." The judge finished their decree by banging the small wooden mallet that Alpha had carved out of the strange root system found in the ant colony.

Alpha thought the small shower of blue sparks the action produced was a nice, if unintentional, touch.

Internally, he was smiling. The verdict was just what he had been hoping for. Alpha wasn't lying to Antchaser when he said he had no proper control over the court. According to Antchaser, the Adventurers of Halirosa, while a large part of the city-state's military force, weren't officially part of their standing army. Instead, they were closer to mercenaries or private security groups. As such, their actions against the goblin village fell under banditry instead of military action.

On one hand, this meant their punishment was far more likely to stick, with no chance of outside forces legally being able to intervene. On the other hand, that also meant their crimes were criminal offenses instead of military offenses, meaning Alpha didn't have the authority to try or detain them. If they attacked him, he could label them as hostile combatants and put a bullet in them. But if they were captured or surrendered, things became… complicated.

Sure, in his capacity as [SEAU - 01], there were certain exceptions he could fall on. If he saw someone kill someone in cold blood right in front of him, Alpha had full authority to make a judgment call. Or if he was working alongside friendly native forces, as in the Radiant Sea. Yet, with him still recovering from the soul damage, Alpha didn't fully trust himself yet when it came to matters like this.

There was also the benefit of public opinion from not simply shooting everyone who crossed him.

Thus the judge AIs.

They weren't anything fancy, being standard operational AIs, but they were legally allowed to make rulings in criminal cases, as long as an authorized sapient being oversaw the process and okayed the rulings. A job Alpha did have the authority for. AI trials were standard practice in the Federation, and there were dozens of layers of checks and balances to ensure fair and impartial judgments.

That said, the ruling gave Alpha the authority to use the bandits in any capacity he wished. As long as he didn't violate any sapient rights acts. That was fine. Alpha had… practice with making the best use of bandits while skirting around such restrictions.

Ki'tan barely reacted when the goblin hunters pulled him to his feet, though that wasn't uncommon. The bandits — Antchaser refused to think of these people as 'Adventurers' any longer — had all had various reactions to their trials and sentences. Some had lashed out with rage and violence. Others had simply stared into space, as if their minds couldn't handle the reality of their situation.

Only one of the two dozen or so captured bandits had truly shocked either of them.

The bandit's healer, Maria by name, had approached the judge's bench with her head held high. She was an older woman, not quite to the extent he would call her a grandmother, yet far older, physically, than any other in the group. She had stood quietly and listened to the charges brought against her. When asked to explain her actions and role with the bandits, the woman claimed to be an independent healer hired by Bosco for their expedition.

That made some sense to Antchaser. Healers were highly sought after, and he doubted the man could have poached any of Icefinger's healers for something like this. Not that the goblin felt that excused her actions in helping the bandits, however. Yet, to Antchaser's surprise, several goblins from the village had actually testified on behalf of the woman.

While she was callous to the goblin's plight, that hadn't stopped her from accepting payment from them to treat some of the more serious wounds caused by the bandit's... fun. Her services weren't cheap, but it was not a stretch to say that she saved many of their lives, including several of the village elders.

Ultimately, she received the lightest sentence out of them all: 5 years of community service, whatever that meant.

Alpha had only shrugged and said, "Meh. The medics always get off light. They had to be pretty deranged to really get more than a slap on the hand, most of the time."

Antchaser found that to be a poor excuse but chose not to question it. He was quickly learning that this 'Federation's' standards didn't quite align with what he was familiar with. Whether or not that was a good thing, only time would tell, he figured.

As Ki'tan was led out of the makeshift courtroom, the final bandit of the day was brought in.

The room grew silent as Boarslayer herself led the man through the doors. His arms were restrained behind him in a strange device that Alpha had custom-made for him. It looked little more than a large metal tube with the man's arms sticking out to either side, but Alpha assured them that nothing he could do would let him escape.

Bosco stumbled slightly as Boarslayer yanked on the large chain wrapped around his neck, the woman grinning from ear to ear. While he was still a giant of a man, Bosco almost looked like a totally different person to Antchaser. Gone were the massive, bulging muscles and the body rippling with contained power. Between the sunken cheeks, exposed ribs, and frail limbs, the man being led down the courtroom aisle looked like he hadn't eaten for months.

The worst sight was the massive, round scar in the middle of his chest. The man's thin frame was such that you could even see where the ribs and sternum simply… vanished. How anyone survived something like that was beyond Antchaser's understanding. Whatever technique Bosco had used to survive Boarslayer's final blow, had obviously cost him dearly.

None of the goblins muttered a word as Bosco was forced to his knees in the middle of the room. Not out of fear, of course, no. Instead, every single eye bore into the back of the man's head with an intensity that would have driven lesser men into uncontrollable shivers.

The attending bailiffs even had to stop a few goblins from climbing over the separating barrier.

The ant judge wasted no time in speaking. "Bosco of Halirosa. Regarding the numerous charges placed against you, of which this court finds it a waste of time to list all of them, we find you guilty on all counts."

Bosco only smirked, his voice ragged and dry as he spoke. "What, don't I get a fancy trial like the rest of the trash? Not gonna drag some… goblin—" Bosco spit the word out of his mouth like he was chewing a dirty rag, "—in front of everyone and listen to some petty complaint? Or have you decided you're tired of playing at being civili—"

Bosco's words were cut off as Boarslayer's fist slammed into his jaw. The courtroom erupted into cheers. The man crumbled to the floor, and Boarslayer got in two more solid strikes, before the ant judge's gavel came down, throwing out more blue sparks. "Order! Order! Bailiff Boarslayer, the court asks that you leave the defended at least able to respond to questioning."

Boarslayer paused, fist mid-swing, then stared up at the judge, her eyes narrowing. For a moment, Antchaser feared the woman would ignore the order, but to his surprise, she stood up and stepped away. Not before delivering one last kick to the man's side, however.

Bosco pushed himself up as best as he could with his arms restrained, and spit out a mouth full of blood. He then had the audacity to actually laugh. "Do you fools think this is over?! Not a chance. I'm one of Icefinger's enforcers! You bastards have no idea how badly you've screwed up! Once Icefinger hears of this, this entire cavern will be nothing more than a frozen wasteland, and I'll use your bodies to cool my—AHHHHAAAAUUUUGG!"

The metallic 'tattoo' circling Bosco's neck sparked to life. Lightning flickered across his body and the large man violently spasmed. After a few seconds, the arcs stopped and Bosco fell limp, panting as his ragged clothes smoked slightly.

The judge then continued their proclamations. "Mr. Bosco, your trial has been ongoing since these proceedings began. Both the victim's testimonies and your accomplice's confessions have been duly noted. It is this court's opinion that reiterating the facts already established would be a waste of its time. Thus, we find you guilty of all charges previously stated. Due to the heinous nature of your charges, you will be assigned to indefinite confinement under the supervision of [SEAU - 01] until such times that your case can be brought to a higher court."

The room erupted, joyful weeping intermingling with outraged yells into a chaotic roar. Antchaser wasn't surprised that the reactions were so mixed.

Many felt the same as Boarslayer. That the man should have been killed last week when they retook the village. Others were simply happy that this nightmare was over.

{I'm not sure what to think…} Antchaser thought to himself. Intellectually, he understood why Alpha had done what he had. Yet another part of him would have cheered to see Boarslayer finish the man off that night.

"Order! Order!" the judge called out. Then, when the room had settled down some, they continued. "Bailiffs! Please remove the defendant from the room."

Boarslayer picked up the chain and threw it over her shoulder, dragging Bosco out of the room like a sack of potatoes. Two other bailiffs rushed to support the man by his arms so that he didn't choke to death, though Antchaser questioned if they really put any effort into it.

Antchaser watched the scene with a frown and only looked away when Alpha spoke. "What's wrong? Does his warning worry you?"

Antchaser's frown deepened, and he answered, "I'm… not sure. Icefinger is more of a boogyman than anything. At least outside of Halirosa. Sure, you'll hear about his men harassing villages, both Surface and Deep, from time to time, but it's always a 'that'll never happen to us' type of thing. However, I know the man can be vindictive, if the stories are true. Given that, and the value of this cavern… I think… I think what Bosco said might not be too far from the truth…"

Alpha paused, considering what the goblin had said. After a moment, he responded. "Well, then… I think it's time you and I had a little… talk about this Icefinger fellow."

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Hmm, I'd say that the idea of Judicial AI have all sorts of problems, but there's a few important factors that make them understandable in this story.

First, the federation is secretly run/managed by a hyper advanced AI. Second, Military trials are different from civilian trials as a matter of course. Third, any government which declares a plannet anexed the moment an AI which traumatizes people lands on it isn't exactly nice and fair.
 
Hmm, I'd say that the idea of Judicial AI have all sorts of problems, but there's a few important factors that make them understandable in this story.

First, the federation is secretly run/managed by a hyper advanced AI. Second, Military trials are different from civilian trials as a matter of course. Third, any government which declares a plannet anexed the moment an AI which traumatizes people lands on it isn't exactly nice and fair.
Plus human judges aren't exactly consistent to start with, having an automated system to provide a consistent judgment as a baseline could be a good idea
 
Plus human judges aren't exactly consistent to start with, having an automated system to provide a consistent judgment as a baseline could be a good idea

The other problem is why the US explicitly mandates Jury trials be offered to criminals. Jury nullification is a taboo word, and can lead to bad outcomes, but also stops the most egregious abuse of law.

Using a real life example, but only because it's generally uncontroversial. A city in Texas has a law making it illegal to feed the homless without the city's permission. A charity organization had multiple members charged for violating that law. The charges were suspended or similar because they could not find enough people to form an "umbiased" jury that would pronounce them guilty based purely on the law.

Interestingly, this sort of check on government power probably makes civil unrest less likely. A Judicial AI or even a real Judge might go "Law says X, so fine for you." Then the only option for people not happy is to loudly express their displeasure.
 
B2: Interlude - Meeting with the Boss.
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B2: Interlude - Meeting with the Boss.
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Despite the comfy leather seats behind them, both men knelt in front of the large hardwood desk. It was a magnificent thing made of polished dark wood, with thin veins of gold running through it, as if crafted from black marble rather than wood. The designs carved into its side were masterfully done, yet worked to enhance the natural beauty of the wood rather than detract from it. The result was a piece that screamed opulence and power without being gaudy, in stark contrast to the furniture preferred by many nobles.

Not that Thomas had seen many noble office rooms, of course. The closest he'd ever gotten had been the office of the head priest when Sister Audrea brought him along for the orphanage's yearly review, as was his duty as the oldest at the time.

However, the office he now knelt in differed greatly from those distant memories.

Where the head priest's office was a bright place, lit by the large, open patio window that overlooked Halirosa, this place was lit only by a roaring stone fireplace. Thick red curtains hung across the windows behind the desk, blocking even a ray of natural light from passing through.

The temple office had been spacious and welcoming… to the extent that cold stone and solid walls could welcome. Yet somehow, it had felt larger than it could ever really be. This new office felt suffocating despite comfortably fitting more than half a dozen people. As if the walls were designed to feel like they were pressing in on you.

The temple office had been filled with various bright paintings and numerous marble statues trimmed with gold or glowing with arrays. Each had a testimony and story, if you knew how to look. The various 'trophies' hanging on the walls of this new office also told their own stories. Though Thomas wasn't nearly as keen on learning about them.

Yet, somehow, it still felt homey. The warm wooden accents and thick carpet gave the room a refined feeling Thomas would have expected from a parlor. If he was a betting man, he would have guessed such duality was intentional, letting the office owner present the atmosphere they desired, according to their guest. Or maybe that was just the nature of his current circumstances.

Said circumstances were a large part of why the young man was so focused on the style of the room. Anything to take his mind off where he was and who was staring at him.

A drop of cold sweat slid off his bowed head and fell to the plush carpet underneath him. Thomas' eyes snapped to the side of the room, though he dared not lift his head fully. Five figures stood there, three on one side, two on the other, with a gap in between the pair. Though their gender and species varied, each wore a sharp, black suit. They all stood straight as a board, eyes forward, their hands behind their back. Thomas swallowed, then, seeing none of them react, exhaled a ragged breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

After a moment, the rapid beating of his heart stilled just in time for him to hear Seeker finish his report. "That about sums it up, Icefinger, sir. While I couldn't ascertain where the goblins found such artifacts, I believe the answer should already be abundantly clear."

The room was silent for a long time before a deep baritone voice called from behind the desk. "I see… You believe there's a Dungeon somewhere in the cavern."

Seeker lifted their head and met Icefinger's gaze. "Yes, sir. If I had to guess, it's a powerful one, too. Old. None of the younger Dungeons could have produced artifacts of the level needed for goblins to so easily trounce Bosco."

Thomas instinctually followed Seeker's gaze and glanced at the man sitting behind the desk. There, leaning back in the oversized leather chair, dressed in a dark suit, fine enough to make some nobles jealous, and gently stroking a purring cat, was… another cat?

Or rather, an Awakened Beast of some feline tribe. The Nebelung clan, if rumors were to be believed. Though with his meticulously groomed fur and piercing ice-blue eyes, Thomas felt Icefinger looked more like a lion than a cat at that moment.

Icefinger leaned further back in his chair. The smile that crept onto the gang leader's face sent an icy chill up Thomas' spine. That was the smile of a predator who'd found a new toy to play with.

After a moment of silent contemplation, Icefinger spoke, his eyes never breaking from Seeker's. "Magnus, as my Captain Of Enforcers, how would you have described Bosco?"

One of the five, the most dwarf-looking dwarf Thomas had ever seen, took a step forward, his arms still folded behind his back.

The common man might have had trouble picking Magnus Ironheart out of a group of dwarves, but not a single member of Icefinger's gang would ever have such trouble. After all, as Enforcer Captain, Magnus was by far the more 'public' of Icefinger's Capo. It wasn't a coincidence that new members were required to attend and watch the 'pointers' the dwarf regularly gave to those older members who got a little too overconfident.

One couldn't say watching a large man be beaten to a bloody pulp with his own leg by a dwarf a quarter his size didn't leave a lasting impression.

When Magnus spoke, it was far softer than one would expect from a dwarf, though it still left Thomas' chest vibrating with how deep it felt. "Bosco was stubborn, prideful, and overall a third-rate adventurer who took more joy out of being over those lesser than actually working toward a goal. He was more competent in keeping the more… rambunctious members in line rather than being an actual leader. That said, his actual martial prowess was middling at best. Not terrible, but he was never rising above Enforcer. That he was even allowed to take this mission was mostly because we couldn't risk wasting more competent Enforcers while the situation further east was ongoing. The Camp's movements have a lot of important people nervous, and there's still no concrete information why."

Finished, Magnus took a step back and resumed his previous position.

Icefinger was sat in silence for a long moment, stroking the cat in his lap, before he once more spoke. "I see. Interesting. What of you, do you concur?"

Seeker nodded. "Yes, sir. Magnus' description of the man is accurate enough. Though I would like to state for the record that despite his… flaws, the man was peak [Shackle Breaking]. Regardless of his mistakes, that should have been more than enough to deal with such a small village. Even a Deep Village."

A melodic voice spoke next, a laugh hiding in her words. "Oh? And what of you, Seeker? Are you telling us you were chased away by a bunch of goblins, too?"

Seeker turned to stare at the speaker. She was a tall woman, with a slim, vulpine figure. Three bushy tails swayed behind her in an invisible wind. As Seeker met her eyes, her smirk grew into a wide grin.

The odd rivalry between Orion Swiftshadow, Icefinger's Lead Information Broker, and Seeker was well known in the gang. For as much as the two seemed to treat each other as old lovers, and the rivalry as a game, the actual competition between the two was fierce and bloody. To such a degree that there was a running pot on who would kill the other first.

Seeker grinned back and answered, "Oh, of course, my dear. Why wouldn't I run? Who knows what else they had in reserve? Sure, I could have killed them all then and there, being peak [Spiritual Awakening], —" Seeker rubbed his advancement during his time in the Deep in her face, making the woman frown, "—but that would have driven the rest into hiding, and cut any leads to the Dungeon. I felt it was the best use of my time to rush back home and inform the Boss of what we'd found. After all, the others had already proved their impotence; there's no way I'd trust them with such an important task."

Icefinger leaned forward. "Enough. I don't need to hear your every thought process, Seeker. All that matters is the results. I trust you've already taken the next steps?"

Seeker bowed his head and answered, "Yes, sir."

Icefinger grinned, placed the cat on the ground, and leaned against his desk, lacing his fingers together. "I see… Good. Very good. Keep me informed as events develop. Magnus, start organizing a strike squad. I don't care what it costs or who you have to pull from where. I want this cavern captured, and the Dungeon located before any of the clans catch word. Do what you have to."

"Yes, sir!" Magnus said.

Icefinger then turned back to Seeker. "You're dismissed."

Seeker stood without another word, then took his place in the empty gap between two of the Capo.

Thomas moved to stand as well but was hit with a freezing wave of energy that made it hard to breathe.

When Icefinger spoke, his voice was as cold as the freshly fallen snow. "I wasn't speaking to you, boy."

Thomas' body felt frozen solid. He couldn't even shiver as Icefinger spoke. "Seeker, who is this that you brought to me? I thought you told me that there were no survivors?"

Seeker took a step forward and answered. "Not of the members that entered the tunnels, no, sir. Young Thomas here got into an… altercation with Bosco and became inconvenienced. Yet, despite that, the boy didn't run, and I found him as I left, trying to enter the tunnel. I know how you hate to waste a good seed, so I dragged him back with me." Seeker then stepped back in line.

Icefinger frowned, and Thomas felt the energy intensify. He could even feel frost forming on his skin, and had already lost feeling in his fingertips. Even if he couldn't move to see either.

"I don't take kindly to new bloods questioning their team leader's authority, boy. What could have possibly made you think that was a good idea?" Icefinger said, gently tapping the surface of his desk. A thin sheet of frost began forming on top as he did.

Thomas struggled to open his mouth and barely spoke. "A real leader… considers… the words… of those under… them… for the… betterment of the… whole."

The six figures surrounding them all gasped, their eyes wide.

Icefinger glared down at Thomas, his frown deepening and his eyes narrowing to slits.

Thomas' heart dropped. There he went again, opening his big mouth without thinking. Sister Audrea always said it would get him killed one day if he wasn't careful. Well, now here he was.

The icy pressure, crushing and freezing him all at once, suddenly vanished, and Thomas collapsed to the carpeted floor, heaving.

Icefinger threw his head back and laughed, a deep echoing thing. When he finished, the man stared down at him and wiped away a tear. "I like you, kid. You have guts. Good. You'll need them to get anywhere in our line of business. Tell you what, since you have such strong feelings about what a proper leader should be, then prove it. I'm assigning you Bosco's details and duties. Show me you have what it takes to do what he couldn't."

Thomas froze. This time, it was not because of the pressure of the man in front of him. Rather, it felt like his brain hadn't properly processed what Icefinger had said.

He quickly recovered, however, and kowtowed in front of him, calling out. "Yes, sir! I won't disappoint you, sir!"

Icefinger leaned forward and spoke, his voice cool and even, though not with the icy bite of before. "You misunderstand, kid. I can tolerate mistakes. Even failure. What I won't tolerate is incompetence. Bosco proved he didn't have what it takes. So now it's your turn to prove to me you do."

Thomas stood and bowed ninety-degrees. "I understand, sir!"

Icefinger grinned. "Good. See that you do. You're dismissed. All of you!"

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B2 - Lesson 22: "Redirection is a Virtue."
Just a reminder, if things are late, check the patreon for any kind of update or delay.

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B2 - Lesson 22: "Redirection is a Virtue."
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//Alpha Log -

6952 SFY-Third Era, 134 standard days since Planetfall.

45 days since the arrival at the colony. 2 weeks since the battle to retake the Goblin village.


Work on Project: Ant King is well underway. Now that the troubles with the goblins have been resolved, I've found myself with far more free time. Playing Dungeon Core was a pleasant distraction while the V-2s baked. The obsolete IV-2s had been mostly regulated to patrolling the forest and assist the goblins in reconstructing their village. This caused some worry from the goblins and confusion among the ants. Thankfully, simple, AI-controlled pheromone signalers built into the goblin's suits and scattered around the village have helped keep incidents to a minimum.

The IV-2s are still more ant than borg, so they can get… snippy around the unsuited goblins. So, the captured Adventurers have been the ones to do most of the work. They're surprisingly tough for biologicals, and a bite here or there isn't enough to cause many problems.

When there is an issue, Dr. Maria has shown to be a quite competent doctor, both magical and mundane. She is quickly becoming indispensable, and while the goblins are still weary around the outsider, they've shown the woman far more respect than the rest of the prisoners.

/ Personal note: See about providing Dr. Maria with the standard humanoid care dossier. It will be interesting to see how the medical knowledge of this world differs and if there's anything we can use to improve our current setup. /

Research on the adventures has proven fruitful, though, as of now, not very useful for any ongoing projects. Federation-approved interrogation methods have provided a basic understanding of the Adventurer's 'cultivation' system. Actual understanding is fragmented and incomplete, individually. Beyond a basic understanding of the process, most information is strictly controlled by the 'clans' and 'sects,' according to the few willing to speak on the matter. Likely to ensure their continued dominance.

From what I've been able to gather, cultivation begins with the gathering of the strange environmental energy I've been studying. How this is done seems to vary from person to person. Some can gather this energy through simple meditation. Others need to actively move through set kata. A few can even gather energy through the act of combat itself.

Like the psionic energies observed in the Federation, I strongly suspect this 'Spirit Energy' is highly reactive to the conscious mind. It has less to do with how the person gathers the energy and more with the active desire to do so. Anything else is simply a mental device to ease the process.

Once gathered, the energy is stored inside a centralized location in the cultivator's body. Scans have shown the exact location of this 'dantian' varies on the individual, though the two most common locations are at center mass, just under the navel, and directly behind the heart. While two individuals have had dantians located in their head, neither of them, one of which is Dr. Marita, could explain why.

The only explanation offered was that individuals with dantians in their heads were generally seen as more intelligent and adaptable. In the same train of thought, those with dantians near their heart were often more energetic and charismatic, with a higher energy reserve, both physically and magically. Finally, those with a dantian in their gut often had more physically powerful or tougher bodies.

However, how this was explained leads me to believe this is more of a cultural explanation, rather than an absolute. Further examination is needed to ascertain if there is any truth to these claims.

As for the so-called 'magic,' unfortunately, none of the surviving Adventurers knew much about the art. Apparently, magic is far less common than cultivation on this continent, as compared to the 'mage continent' of Gaia. The most I could gather is that becoming a mage involves transforming one's dantian into something called a 'mana furnace.' It seems I will have to wait until I can capture my own mage to learn more about this matter. A shame.

Regardless of the location of their dantian, however, cultivators can circulate their collected energy through a set of metaphysical channels they call meridians. Doing so has shown to have strong mutagenic effects on their biology, effectively increasing various aspects of their bodies. While these meridians don't appear to be physically present in their body, I have observed the flow of energy through them by tracking the energy itself. It's currently unknown whether these meridians are a psionic construct or some form of quantum channel.

Unfortunately, experimentation confirm Jīshí's previous comment. I seem to lack the necessary mechanisms to gather or interact with this energy personally. Whether this is because I am not from this world or because I'm not a biological being, is currently unknown. Further testing is needed. For now, I will have to settle with the arrays, as they seem to act in a similar manner to a form of artificial meridians.

In fact, I have observed several patterns among the Adventurer's meridians that bear a striking resemblance to several array patterns I've been able to deduce. Whether this means these arrays were created by observing the natural patterns formed by meridians or the other way around, I don't know. The book that Jīshí provided me offers no answers, as it was specifically written for me. It barely touches on much of what I've learned over the last two weeks.

Nonetheless, my work on arrays has expanded greatly now that I have the time and understanding to make better use of them. At the current pace, it won't be long until I can start incorporating parts into the [Wasp] drones as a test. From there, setting arrays into the antborgs, or even some of the equipment in the base, will be feasible. With any luck, this will lower the drain on my core and free up energy for more important things, like the translight incubators and simulations.

I still have a long way to go before I feel comfortable enough to start expanding seriously. More so with the looming threat of this 'Icefinger' figure. The goblin Antchaser believes the man won't let this kind of insult go unanswered, so I and the goblins are focusing much of our efforts on preparing for retaliation. In particular, the hunters involved in the village's liberation have been delving into my 'dungeon' regularly for training. This has given me ample opportunity to study the goblins and how they compare to the Adventurers.

Everyone is on high alert; I suspect this feeling will only grow with time.


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"Is that really all they know of Icefinger?" Alpha asked as Antchaser paced back and forth inside the small meeting hut.

Antchaser paused and shook his head, his shoulders slumping. "I believe so… You were right that those bastards were more willing to… brag about their boss to me, than to speak to you openly. But it seems Icefinger likes to keep his cards close to his chest. The goons don't know much more about him than the general public."

Alphantonso V shrugged, and Alpha responded. "You don't become a crime boss by airing all your dirty laundry. I was never expecting much from the rabble. Still, let's go over what we do know."

Antchaser started pacing again and raised a finger. "We know one bandit managed to slip away. This 'Seeker' fellow. We also know he holds at least some sway in the gang, as he was assigned by Icefinger to watch over Bosco,"

Alpha continued, "We also know they took roughly two weeks to travel from Halirosa to this area, but that was as a group. A single individual can travel faster."

Antchaser nodded. "That's true, though this fellow seems like the cautious type. The Crimson Mountains are dangerous for a lone man, even if he is much stronger. I'd guess four, maybe five days? A week if he took his time and didn't rush back."

"Either way, that means Icefinger likely knows or will soon know about what happened here. How long do you think it will take for him to gather a force?" Alpha asked.

Antchaser paused. "I… couldn't say. Hunters only visit Halirosa once or twice yearly to trade what we've collected. I wouldn't know anything about the inner workings of Adventurers, let alone a criminal gang," he sighed.

"A few days to analyze the report. Two to three weeks to gather the men. Depends on how long it takes to pull some of their enforcers," came the response from behind him. Antchaser turned, his eyes wide, to stare at the old grandmotherly woman standing in the doorway. Dr. Maria stared back with a frown, wiping her bloody hands with a small, clean rag.

The front of her cotton robe was stained red with fresh blood. "Sorry for the mess. One of the fools thought they'd have a better chance of slipping through the ants than the goblins. Had his leg bit clean off, and I had to sew it back on before the idiot bled out," the old woman said, shaking her head.

Boarslayer pushed her way into the hut behind the doctor and scoffed. "It was the fool's own fault. He forgot the first rule when dealing with dungeon creatures: don't underestimate them." The large goblin woman then collapsed into a chair and drained one of the tankards sitting on the table.

Antchaser shook his head at the woman's words. Boarslayer said that like she'd not stepped foot into a dungeon for the first time only a few weeks before.

Before he could say as much, Alpha spoke. "So, three weeks to gather, two more of travel, assuming Icefinger's already been informed. If we assume this Seeker fellow got back about a week ago, that means we have less than two months to prepare."

Maria sank into a free chair and wiggled her hand. "Less. Halirosa already knows about this place, too. Or at least the tunnels leading to it. How do you think we knew to come here? They had an expeditionary force gathering when we left. I bet it's already on its way, too. I'd give them another two weeks before they arrive."

Antchaser narrowed his eyes and stared at the old woman. "And why should we trust you? Why would you even help us?"

The doctor opened one eye and stared at the goblin as she answered, "Boy, I signed a contract with Bosco, as foolish as that might have made me. That was to act as a healer for their little group to explore some mountain tunnels. There was nothing about raiding a village or dealing with a dungeon. I'm getting too old for that kind of tomfoolery. It wasn't with Icefinger, nor do I hold any loyalty to him or his gang of miscreants. As long as I get paid, I don't right care who I work for."

Boarslayer crossed her arms and sneered, "And I'm sure if Icefinger wipes us all out, you'll happily tell him everything you know, too, right?"

Dr. Maria threw back her head and cackled, "Well then, lass, you'd better do you best to win, now shouldn't you?"

Alpha spoke, pushing the conversation back on track, "So we've got a second group of Adventurers heading our way to deal with before this Icefinger fellow even shows up. Great."

Dr. Maria nodded and folded her arms. "Aye. Though these shouldn't be so… rough around the edges as the last. They're an official team for the Halirosa Adventurer's Guild. It wouldn't be the first time such a group has stumbled on a Deep Village during their duties. Adventurers can be a… chaotic bunch, but the general rule is that as long as you treat them as guests, they shouldn't be too much trouble. That said, as official scouts, don't expect them to be anything like the trash Bosco brought along, either. They may be few in number, but they'll be elites. If you play your cards right, though, they might be a boon rather than an obstacle."

Alphantonso V tapped a leg against its mandibles while Alpha thought. "Interesting… what are you proposing?"

Dr. Maria grinned from ear to ear and then addressed the other three in the room. "Well, first off. You want to keep them away from the dungeon. They'll likely figure it out eventually, but an untouched dungeon is too much of an allure for most Adventurers. No guarantee they won't weigh their options and decide to join forces with Icefinger's men when they get here if they think they can take it for themselves later."

Alpha mentally frowned. Not that he was getting much out of the whole 'roleplaying as a dungeon' thing yet anyway, but he wondered if it would end up drawing more attention than he wanted at the moment.

Dr. Maria continued. "That said, you still need to give them a reason to stick their heads in the fight. Something to make them stick around, rather than run off as soon as the fighting starts and come back later with a larger force to pick up the scraps."

Boarslayer narrowed her eyes and asked, "You want us to bait the trap, then let both predators fight over the prize…"

Dr. Maria grinned and nodded her head. "Yep. That's one way to look at it. Another way is this. Which do you prefer to have control over the cavern? The same gang who invaded your village and killed your people? Or a semi-lawful organization bound by laws and treaties with the Deep to at least give you a fair shot at controlling your future?"

Alpha sighed. If the looks on the two goblin's faces told him anything, they were thinking the same thing. Option C: neither. But he also understood where Maria was coming from, even if she didn't quite understand the power they had available to them. Yet.

So he could understand how what she was suggesting could also be a good idea.

The only question was, what could be a juicy enough target in the cavern? What could keep the Adventurer around? And how could the goblins use that to their advantage?

The more he thought about the matter, the more he returned to a singular idea.

Alpha mentally grinned… and turned to look toward the cavern's river.
 
B2 - Lesson 23: "If You Build It, They Will Come"
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B2 - Lesson 23: "If You Build It, They Will Come"
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The gorilla-sized, green, ape-like creature swung through the thick canopy of the underground forest.

Long, muscular arms propelled it from branch to branch at high speeds, though it was becoming more difficult, the bloody wounds covering its body sending jolts of pain with each swing. However, despite its worsening condition, the creature knew it couldn't risk slowing down. Not while that… thing was still out there.

Its bloodshot eyes constantly scanned their surroundings as they moved through the treetops, watching for the telltale signs of reflected light that would signal his pursuer's presence. It had already gotten most of his troop. Those too slow or too stupid to recognize the danger. But not them.

They weren't like the others. They were smarter. Stronger. It was why they were troop leader to begin with!

Were…

Now, it was the last. A dark fire burned in the ape-like creature's chest. Decades of work, building and growing the troop, gone in an instant. It would remember this. It would raise up a new troop. And when they were least expecting it, it wou—.

A sudden glimmer of light broke the creature out of its daydreams, and it sneered. With the grace of a master gymnast, the ape creature halted its next swing and changed directions, just as a large, metallic object shot through the air where it would have been, had it not seen the object coming.

The ape creature hooted in an almost laughing manner and beat its chest as it soared through the air toward its next perch.

However, its eyes went wide the next instant as the object hit a nearby tree and fell to the ground, revealing itself to be nothing more than a large, shiny rock. The ape creature twisted in the air, and its heart dropped to see a large, oval object covered in mud floating along its arch.

As if waiting for it to notice, the object suddenly split into four parts, each section shooting away from the other. A breath later, the ape creature slammed into an expansive metal net stretching between the four sections of the previous object.

The ape creature's smooth arc turned into a tumbling fall, and both ape and net crashed through the thick branches of the canopy and hurtled toward the ground below. Moments before what would have been a sudden and painful landing, however, the four objects connected to the corners of the net pulled up and slowly brought the ape creature to a stop until both net and creature were suspended several feet over the ground.

The ape creature raged, of course, but neither teeth sharper than any spear or claws lined with Spirit Energy proved a match for the strange, stretchy net. The sound of a light thump sounded in between the hoots and rage-filled screams of the trapped ape creature, and it let out another mad cry, though this time in pain. It reached down and pulled out the large syringe that had slammed into its thigh.

The ape creature threw the object away, paying it little mind. It was simply one more thing to add to the bonfire of its fury. Yet, as they struggled, the ape creature felt a strange fatigue slowly overtake them. Within a few heartbeats, the creature's manic thrashing slowed, and in a few more, the creature found it barely had the strength to cling to the net, let alone pull at it.

The last thing the ape creature saw was half a dozen figures slowly emerging from behind the nearby trees before the darkness overtook them.

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Antchaser grinned from ear to ear as he made his way around the tree. His good mood wasn't just thanks to their successful hunt, but also because of the look of sheer annoyance playing across Boarslayer's face.

"See, I told you it would work. And you thought it was a dumb idea," the smaller goblin mocked. He waved his hand in the air, and the [Skyfisher] — as Alpha called the construct — floated closer.

Boarslayer folded her arms and humphed. "It was a stupid plan! The only reason it worked was because the Mossback got cocky. These creatures are smarter than your average spirit beast. Such a simple trap would have failed miserably if my team hadn't already been picking off their troop members, allowing your little toys to get closer."

"Ah! But they did get cocky, and they did fall for it. You let the troop leader escape the first time, and I'm the one who captured it in the end. I win this bet," Antchaser countered.

Boarslayer didn't bother to respond, only giving a tsk and turning toward the trapped Mossback. The large goblin started shouting orders as the others prepped the transport crate. The [Skyfisher] didn't have the power to fly the creature all the way back to the village.

Antchaser sighed and shook his head.

Light laughter from behind caused the goblin to turn around.

"Under different circumstances, I would say flowers are the best way to tell a woman you're sorry, but something tells me she'd throw you off the village wall if you tried." A tall human woman in a snow-white coat grinned down at Antchaser.

Antchaser's eyes narrowed, and he frowned. "What do I have to apologize for? That she-devil is just mad I beat her for once." The goblin's hand flexed on the hilt of his dagger as the woman drew closer. The presence of the dozen-or-so silver wasps flying around the area — along with the collar around the woman's neck — eased a lot of Antchaser's anxiety around the human 'doctor,' but she was still an Adventurer, and old habits died hard.

With a sigh, the older woman's shoulders slumped, and she shook her head. "Men…"

'Dr. Maria' rolled her shoulders and smiled. "Oh well. You two have been working hard this past week. This is the last one, yes?"

Antchaser's eyes narrowed further, but he turned away. "Yes. This is the last one, according to Mr. Alpha. Are you certain that the sedative will work? I don't want this thing waking up in the middle of the village before we can move it to the site."

Dr. Maria nodded. "Yes. The specimen is only early [Golden Spirit]. The sedative I provided you is strong enough to knock even a [Shackle Breaking] Cultivator out for a few hours, let alone our friend here. That said, even if it woke up, I doubt your fears will come to pass." She turned and stared at the group of goblins as they loaded the Mossback into the transport crate.

Well, 'crate' might not have been the right word for it. The two-meter-tall, meter-wide glass tube strapped to the back of the large ant was filled about halfway up with a thick, clear liquid. It definitely wasn't something you'd see on any merchant's cart. The clear liquid filling the tube had been pre-measured based on the Mossback's suspected mass, though more was pumped in through tubes connecting the transport crate to the ant's abdomen, topping it off. When the crate was filled to the brim, the Mossback floating gently in the middle, the metal lid slid shut and sealed with a hiss.

Dozens of thin metal wires extended from the top and bottom of the crate and bore themselves into the creature's flesh.

Antchaser shivered at the sight and turned away. He was never getting used to that.

Dr. Maria, in contrast, stared at the crate, unblinking. "Fascinating, Isn't it? The gel isolates the subject from all forms of kinetic and thermal energy, while the 'glass' is, in fact, a type of carbon polymer capable of reforming and repairing itself in mere moments. The subjects themselves are kept alive by oxygenating their blood directly while keeping them in a type of suspended animation by reducing biological functions to near nothing. You could throw that 'transport crate' into the heart of an active volcano, and the subject would be perfectly unharmed. All of this done without using the tiniest bit of Spirit Energy."

She turned back to Antchaser. Her grin stretched from ear to ear, and the look in her eyes made the goblin shiver once more.

"It makes me wonder what else this Dungeon Core you stumbled upon is capable of. And wonder who exactly created him." As the doctor continued, her voice was filled with a trembling excitement that — not for the first time — made Antchaser wonder if she was right in the head.

Antchaser didn't bother to respond to the doctor's statements themselves. Even after having only worked with the woman for a little more than a week, he'd learned not to go down that rabbit hole. Instead, he asked his own question:

"So, do you think he can actually do it?"

Dr. Maria blinked, the fever in her eyes vanishing, as she straightened and looked toward the cavern ceiling, crossing her arms and placing a hand to her chin. "Strange that you, Mr. Speaker-of-the-Core —," Antchaser blushed slightly at the unofficial title some goblins had taken to using "—would doubt our mysterious patron at this point in the game. But to answer your question, I don't see why not. It's not like there are any rules against it. Not that I'm aware of, that is. At the very least, the fact that the Dungeon Core can conceive of such an option suggests that its original creator never considered the possibility in the first place and thus didn't put the proper protections in place to prevent it. Assuming it's something they would have wanted to prevent at all."

Antchaser turned and met the doctor's eyes, a brow raised. "But doesn't it seem… strange to you? That a Dungeon Core would be… creating its own Dungeon?"

Dr. Maria shrugged. "Ah! But it's not a 'Dungeon' though. Remember? Just 'the ruins of one.' Or at least that's the story we must weave. A subtle distinction, but an important one."

"That's true…" Antchaser grumbled to himself, turning away. Dungeon Ruins were valuable, true, but not to the level of an active Dungeon. It was just the right bait to tempt the Adventurers into taking their side, but not enough that the Adventurers might decide things were better off being the only hand in the honeypot.

Dr. Maria laughed. "Think of it this way. If this works, the Adventurers get their little Dungeon, while your village gets to keep control of the main one. At least until the Guild figures things out. By then, the Guild will already have a vested interest in keeping Icefinger out of your home, and your people will have accrued enough personal power and influence not to be pushed around. A good leader knows when not to mire themselves in the minor details. They can be important, but not if they distract you from the big picture."

"I…" Antchaser sighed and nodded, "Ya… you're right. The big picture."

Dr. Maria grinned and patted the small goblin on the back.

"There you go. Now… we don't have much time left before the Adventurers arrive. Let us talk about how one kills a Drake."
 
B2: GRIM Adventures - 10
Annnnnnd I'm back!
Man, I really needed that vacation, I'll tell you what.

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B2: GRIM Adventures - 10
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Jill took a sip of the rich, spiced tea. A smoky, almost savory flavor exploded across her tastebuds. Its earthy undertones and slightly sweet aftertaste summoned memories of her family as they roasted hazelnuts and forged mushrooms over the open flames of a campfire. It felt like drinking a warm Lux night, and the slight chill of the still-awakening garden and the bitter cold of the surrounding mountains fled from her bones instantly.

Her eyes widened, and Baron Ashdale gave a soft smile.

"Good, isn't it? This particular blend doesn't have a name yet, but I find it works wonders for days like this." The wolfman gestured around them.

Jill silently nodded, scanning their surroundings. Their table sat in the middle of a sprawling garden filled with a multitude of raised seed beds and tall shrubs. Jill was sure the garden would have been a spectacular sight… if they weren't nearing the end of the Abditus season. As it was, the raised beds were freshly cleared, awaiting their next crop, while the various shrubs, bushes, and hedges were mostly bald, only the barest hints of fresh growth poking through the light snowy blanket that coated them.

The only proper source of green in the garden was the massive evergreen tree that dominated its center. The enormous tree was larger than even Morgana's had been, and it towered over the rest of the complex, stretching well over a hundred meters into the air. Its trunk was so wide that she doubted even five grown men could surround it if they linked hand to hand.

Yet, despite its size, this was no Spirit Plant. It was nothing more than a mundane, if ancient, tree.

Baron Ashdale's grin grew wider as he watched Jill admire the tree. "Beautiful, isn't she?" he asked.

Jill jumped, almost spilling her tea, and turned back to the Baron, a slight blush on her cheeks. Before she could respond, though, Jack spoke beside her.

"Absolutely! She's gorgeous, is what she is! Though I'm curious, I always thought Ashdale was famous for, well, its ash. And hickory, of course. I wasn't aware Dragon spruce even grew this far south."

"Dragon spruce?" Jill asked with a tilt of her head. Mr. Gopher — who sat on her other side at his own smaller table atop the larger one — mimicked the gesture.

Jill knew her brother had always been a bit of a… plant nerd, for lack of a better term. Yet, in all his excited ramblings, this was the first time she'd ever heard mention of this particular tree.

Jack folded his arms and nodded. "Ya. They're pretty rare. Well, rare outside of the Serpent's Tail Peninsula." Jack said, referencing the easternmost of the two peninsulas that extended out of the top of the Crimson mountain range. Long ago, a cataclysmic Fallen Star crashed into the northern part of the Skybreaker Continent, sinking it and forming the Starfall Sea. The Serpent's Head and Serpent's Tail Peninsulas stretched from west to east along the northern borders of the Crimson mountain range, forming a new coast.

Jack leaned back in his chair, staring up at the very top of the tree far above them. "I never thought I'd get to see one. There's rumored to be an entire forest of them somewhere in the Serpent's Tail, but that place is dangerous for a [Firmament Breaker] Cultivator, let alone lowly [Mortal Foundation] Cultivators like us."

Jill shivered. If it truly was too dangerous for someone of the third and final Greater Realm before Ascension, there was no way she was ever going anywhere near that place.

Baron Ashdale threw his head back and laughed. It was a full belly laugh, a deep, rich thing that reminded Jill of her uncle when he watched the young kits play in the fields.

"Oh, no, you're correct, my boy," Baron Ashdale said. "You likely won't find any other specimens this far south. Or even for hundreds of kilometers north, either. This tree is very special."

He placed his own cup down and leaned over the table, still grinning, his wolflike muzzle flashing rows of sharp, white teeth. "You see, the Ashdale Progenitor had quite the wanderlust, as old wolves are wont to have."

"Oh? Really?" Jack leaned forward as well, a child-like sparkle in his eye. They may have been more than old enough to be called adults, but Jack could never turn down the allure of a good story, and Baron Ashdale seemed eager enough to share his ancestor's exploits.

"Oh, quiet! Our records tell how the first Ashdale traveled all over the world, even exploring the Mage's continent! Once he was powerful enough, my ancestor made the trek to the far north in search of opportunities, as many do. Among the many treasures he brought back with him was a small sapling. That very sapling was planted here, in the valley where he was born, and eventually grew into the towering beauty you see today." What followed was a short, if interesting, tale of the first Ashdale's journey to the frozen north. The Baron was a skilled orator; even Mr. Gopher was hanging on the man's every word by the end.

When he finished, Baron Ashdale straightened in his chair, folded his arms, and stared up at the tree. "That's been… close to a thousand years now, I think. My ancestor Ascended not too long after, and this tree's been watching over this valley and my people ever since. You can see her from every corner of the valley, and the people use her as a guidepost home."

Oh wow, Jill thought. Who knew it would have such a story?

Still enthralled with the tale, Jack leaned forward and asked, "Is it true that Dragon spruce got that name because wild dragons would use them as nests?!"

Jill tsked and slapped her brother's shoulder. "Don't be stupid, Jack. True Dragons wouldn't build tree houses, let alone nests."

Baron Ashdale laughed, though. "I can't vouch for dragons, but my ancestor's writings mention witnessing entire flocks of massive drakes perched on branches like songbirds, so who's to say? After all, another name for the Serpent's Tail is the 'Forest of Giants.' Who knows what hides in its unexplored depths?"

Jack opened his mouth to ask another question, but Jill cut him off.

"While we both appreciate the story — and the tea — I have to ask, sir, why are we here?"

Ok, so Jill knew why they were here. Her eyes drifted to the massive figure of Little Red, curled up in the snow under the Dragon spruce. Grim hovered nearby, staring at the various buds on the bushes like a child seeing spring for the first time.

But Jill had expected to be taken to a courthouse and questioned, not brought into the Baron's private residence, and served tea in his garden like a guest.

Baron Ashdale threw out his arms. "Why? Because, my dear Jill, I doubt your little pup and metal friend could have fit into my office, of course. Besides, I would rather not have to explain to my Captain of the Guard that everything is fine, for a third time," the man said, his voice filled with mock indignation.

When they'd first tried to hold their meeting in a warmer, indoor location, Little Red's whining and howling at his inability to fit through any of the doors had kicked the guards into high alert, thinking there was an attack.

Jill frowned and narrowed her eyes.

Baron Ashdale gave another chuckle and folded his arms over the table, this time speaking in a more serious tone. "Relax, young one. You're not in trouble. Not anymore. I simply wanted to see what kind of people our… guests were. That is all. Besides, if your friend—" Baron Ashdale glanced over at Little Red. "—happened to be a genuine threat or raged, I would much prefer the destruction contained to my lonely little abode than in the middle of my city, where others may get caught in the crossfire."

Jill paused, blinking. She… hadn't actually thought of that.

If Little Red really did lose control, likely the only ones in the city capable of stopping him were Baron Ashdale and Mr. Gopher. While they might be able to do so easily, there was always the chance something would go wrong and someone would get hurt. In that regard, removing the powerful spirit beast away from densely populated areas was probably the smart move.

Though that didn't stop her from feeling slightly miffed that he'd apparently been… testing… them? Or something like that.

Jill furrowed her brow in consideration while Baron Ashdale nodded.

After a moment of silence, Baron Ashdale spoke up. "Though I must say, I'm surprised you lot were able to steal him from Morgana. That old crone has been working on him since before even my father took office. Her Lykos packs have been giving us trouble for centuries. Losing… Little Red… will be a significant blow to her research. With any luck, this might buy us a few decades of relative peace."

"That's right! Morgana! We forgot to tell someone!" Jack yelled, standing and slamming his palms into the table, causing it to shake — and earning angry chitters from Mr. Gopher.

Jill's eyes went wide. That was right. They'd not really 'forgotten' about the old Elder Mimic — who could? — but the last few hours had been hectic, and it had slipped her mind to tell anyone.

Jill turned to Baron Ashdale, her heart pounding, but the man raised a hand.

"No need to panic. As you might have guessed, the city of Ashdale is quite familiar with the old crone in the mountains. I've already sent scouts to retrace your path and see what they can find. I wouldn't hold out any hope, though."

Baron Ashdale sighed and shook his head, continuing. "Elder Mimics are hard to kill, even by normal standards, and they only become more powerful and crafty with time. Morgana has haunted this range since before even the Ashdale Progenitor rose to power. We have tried to end her countless times through the ages, but she's slipperier than a butcher's cleaver and twice as sharp."

Jill frowned. "So she's alive then…" she said, less than a question and more of a statement.

Baron Ashdale nodded sadly. "Undoubtedly. However, don't discredit yourself, either. You've dealt her a heavy blow, if not physically. If your story is correct, I would hazard to guess one greater than she's suffered in centuries."

Baron Ashdale looked around the table at all three of them. "That said, I feel like I must warn you…" he said, his voice far more serious than he'd been up to that point.

Jack gulped and asked. "You… you think she'll come for revenge?"

Baron Ashdale turned and nodded. "As surely as the sun rises. For as old and as powerful as Morgana is, she's twice as vindictive. She'll be weak for a while, which will buy you some time, but not much. I would recommend you to flee these mountains as soon as possible. She won't leave them or get too close to Halirosa. She might treat Ashdale as a game, but even she wouldn't test the full might of the Adventurer's Capital."

"We can't do that!" Jill cried out, maybe a bit too fast.
 
B2 - Lesson 24: "Pool-aid is Not a Federation Approved Beverage."
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B2 - Lesson 24: "Pool-aid is Not a Federation Approved Beverage."
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Hugo sighed and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Despite the cold water of the river and the slight chill of the cavern, he was still working up quite a sweat. Dredging mud and gravel from the bottom of the large river wasn't simple work by any means, even with the strange artifacts the goblins had provided them.

On the surface, it didn't appear like much. It was little more than a thick metal handlebar for pushing the device that ended in a large black wedge with wheels. As Hugo pushed the contraption along the riverbed, it would dredge up clay, sand, and small rocks. Two large tubes extended out of the water to either side. As he pushed the tool through the silt, whatever it picked up was separated into bins: gravel and small rocks to the left, clay, sand, and other such stuff to the right.

Hugo had no idea how it did any of this, of course. The contraption's internals were a complete mystery to him. He couldn't even sense any Spirit Energy from the thing, barring the natural radiant energy it gave off, telling it had been built out of resources found here in the Deep Tunnels instead of brought from the surface. Even someone of his 'meager' [Silver Spirit] cultivation could 'taste' the difference in quality between the Spirit Energy on the surface and the Deep.

There was a reason Adventurers kept wandering into the tunnels, despite the dangers found there. Or why access was so hotly contested.

Hugo sighed and shook his head. So much for turning his luck around. There was nothing he could do about it, though, so he gripped the handlebars and got back to work.

Occasionally, he would encounter a larger rock the device couldn't handle. These he marked with a bundle of flags strapped to his back. Both to warn other dredgers and to mark them for an extraction team.

Overall, working the device felt similar to the reel mowers his ma used to make him use when he was a kid.

His ma had always claimed the neat little flower beds and tidy grass lawn drew in customers, and to be fair, it had worked. As rugged and hard as some Adventurers seemed, Hugo's ma's cafe had always been packed full of the same rough-looking men and women, sitting in her little garden and drinking tea from dainty cups.

And, of course, he had been the one in charge of making sure it all looked nice and 'high-class,' as his ma used to say. Sometimes, Hugo wondered what life would have been like if the sickness hadn't taken her. If the loan sharks hadn't torn what remained of his ma's cafe to pieces. If he hadn't fallen in with Icefinger's men in desperation.

Would he have inherited the cafe? Would he be pouring tea and baking pastries for high-ranked Adventurers, instead of mugging newbies in an alley for pocket change? Maybe he would have been — while not rich — well off enough to afford to live in a nicer part of Halirosa, instead of so desperate that he was willing to risk going on a stupidly dangerous, unauthorized expedition. One where he would get captured by goblins and spend the next ten years dredging out a river for Celestials-above-knows what reason.

But Hugo had learned long ago that there was no point in wondering about 'What ifs' in life. You just had to make the best of things.

"As ma always said, 'If today wasn't your friend, it was your teacher'…" Hugo muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Bill asked as he trudged through the river in front of Hugo. The younger, slightly eccentric man looked up at Hugo and tilted his head. He propped the long, metal rake in his hands against the river bed and took the opportunity to rest.

Hugo looked at his friend and shook his head. "Nothin', just talkin' to myself."

Bill narrowed his eyes and stared. "Man, the work's really getting to you, isn't it? Take a quick dip under; the water will clear you righ—"

Thunk!

"Ow! What was that for?!" Bill cried in indignation, clutching the top of his head where a rake — identical to his own — had smacked him.

"Shut up, you fool!" Claude said as he stood on the other side of the dredger, opposite of Bill.

Bill glared at Claude and rubbed his head. "Was that really necessary?!" he asked.

Claude returned the glare, "We've talked about this, stupid. The others haven't caught on to the Dragon Pool yet. You go opening your mouth, and everyone will be volunteering for this job! Do you want to go back to the quarry?!" he shot back under his breath.

Bill's eyes went wide, and he nervously glanced around. Bill could be… loud on occasion, but lucky for their group of three, they were still rather far ahead of the other teams.

They were ahead of the others, partly because the imprisoned bandits considered dredging the river to be one of the worst available assignments. It was dirty, grueling, and rather tedious work. Being assigned to work at the river had quickly become a punishment of sorts, and it didn't help that the bandits weren't the most cooperative at times.

Case in point.

"Get back to work! Ya' lazy bum!"

Zap!

"Arraug!" a rather large bandit near the back of the line collapsed into the mud where he'd been sitting, shaking as the silvery band fused to the skin of his neck sparked. A smug-looking goblin stood on the shore nearby. In the goblin's hand, a small, white rod with various buttons was pointed at the twitching man, a single button depressed.

Lowering the rod, the goblin released the button, causing the sparks to instantly cease. The bandit struggled to push themselves up on trembling arms, coughing up water and mud as they glared at the goblin.

The goblin frowned, squinted, and pointed the rod at the man again. The bandit turned, grabbed the large bucket next to him, and hurried over to his waiting team. When the team started moving again, the goblin smirked to himself.

Maybe sensing the three of them staring at him, the goblin turned and frowned. Just as they were about to raise the rod, Hugo turned back to the dredger and began pushing it forward. Bill and Claude swiftly resumed their work, using their rakes to extract the thick aquatic plants that grew abundantly along the river bed.

The reason why the three of them were so determined to endure such a miserable job was actually quite simple. Hugo was genuinely surprised that no one else had caught on yet. But then again, it was something that they had only realized themselves thanks to Claude's previous experience in the Deep.

The twitchy, paranoid man was frustrating sometimes, but even Hugo had to admit he knew his stuff.

Ironically, it was also why they had to keep removing the plants daily.

The Dragon Pool.

Whispering over the sound of the dredger, Bill asked Claude. "How do you even know it's a real Dragon Pool? Sure, there's the Mud Drake, but a drake ain't no dragon. Besides, I thought no one knew how they formed. What makes you think this is one?" he asked.

Claude tsked. "No one will say how they're formed. That's different. There are plenty of theories, and I'm sure some ancient bigwig has figured it out. It's just no one's going to go telling nobodies like us anything."

Hugo nodded his head. There were theories, of course. Some people thought dragons — and dragon-related creatures — instinctually created them. Some people thought the Dragon Pool created the dragon by infusing some lucky reptile with draconic might. Others still thought the pools were simply natural treasures unusually suited for draconic creatures, and thus naturally attracted them.

It wasn't like dragons were willing to say for themselves. In fact, speaking to an outsider about Dragon Pools was one of the highest forms of taboo in their entire culture. Oddly enough, that taboo didn't extend to actually using them, or even studying them. In fact, most large clans or sects controlled at least one Dragon Pool somewhere. The taboo only seemed to extend to those already in-the-know speaking about their nature. Anyone who'd ever tried — and those they'd told — had all simply… vanished.

Even the theories were whispered about in no more than hushed tones.

Bill raised a brow. "You sure about that? I mean, I've heard of Dragon Pools before. Who hasn't? But aren't they supposed to be things of legend? Like, 'Cure any diseases, heal any wound' kind of thing? I don't think relaxing some aches and boosting our stamina qualifies."

Thunk!

Claude whacked him on the head again. "That's why I said forming, fool! As for 'proof,' all you have to do is look around us." He gestured to the surrounding river.

Hugo glanced at the river and had to admit that the water was oddly clean and clear, even this far away from the Dragon Pool. Far more than one would expect such a slow-moving river to be, and doubly so given their current task. With half a dozen teams dredging the river, it should have been a muddy, swirling mess. Yet Hugo could have reached down and scooped a handful of water and been none the worse for wear.

In fact, that's exactly what he did.

As the cool, crisp water hit his stomach, he shivered. A weak yet soothing chill rushed through his body, and his aching muscles relaxed slightly. It wasn't quite at the level of a good break, but it helped. What's more, the effects seemed to compound. Each day, the three of them worked a little further and did a little more. Hugo could tell his Cultivation itself hadn't really moved, but it was hard to deny the fact that something was happening.

Suffice it to say, all three of them had started volunteering for dredging duty shortly after descovering its effects. If any of the other Adventurers were aware of what they knew, Hugo didn't know. Though it was unlikely that anyone had connected to the Dragon Pool, likely attributing any refreshing effects to simply being 'Deep Water.'

Otherwise, as Claude said, more of Bosco's group would be volunteering as well. As it was, the goblins were already suspicious that they even wanted to, but Hugo had spun it as a desire to say 'sorry' for their part in Bosco's reign of terror.

It helped that it was mostly true. Hugo's companionship of necessity with Bill and Claude during the trip to the cavern had quickly turned into something more genuine, as all three had found the way Bosco was doing things… unappealing. They might have been street thugs, but even they had their lines.

Instead, the three of them had spent most of their time scouting and patrolling the forests before the goblin's raid. They might not have actively helped any of the goblins, but they hadn't made life harder and hadn't made any enemies, either. That really helped during their trials.

As a result, all three of them had walked away with some of the lightest sentencing out of the bandits: 'only' ten years of hard labor.

None of that would matter, though, if the goblins suspected they were somehow benefiting from their task. They'd be blacklisted from the job and watched far closer than they were now.

Bill and Claude's arguing broke Hugo out of his ruminations. He knew he should probably speak and break it up. For as much as they got along sometimes, both men had abrasive personalities and would often butt heads in circular arguments that didn't really go anywhere, leaving him to mediate.

Before he could speak, however, a loud, warbling whistle echoed through the forest.

Everyone in the immediate area froze.

Hugo's gaze snapped upstream.

"Crap!"

That single word broke the silence. In an instant, everyone in or near the river made a mad dash for the nearby forest's edge.

Hugo, Bill, and Claude were among the last inside the shelter of the trees, being the furthest out and having left the dredger where they had stopped.

Just in time, too, as not long after they crossed the treeline, the clear river suddenly turned murky. A massive shadow swam through the deeper part of the river, churning calm river waters into a raging torrent.
 
A New Story on Patreon! "We Lease The Kraken!"
Hello Everyone! I wanted to Announce that I'm starting up an all new, Patreon-only (for now!) Novel! Hurrah!
Why am I doing this now? Why Patreon-only right now? A few reasons.

Partly to try and draw in more Patreon subscribers, I'll freely admit. Money is (really) tight at the moment, more so with the reduction in Patreon members. The hope is that with a second story of a different vibe and genre than Alpha Strike, I can start attracting more readers and subscribers.
This will let me keep doing what I'm doing, and bringing you all more chapters, of better quality.
I'm sure some will be off-put but openly admitting that, but at the end of the day, this is my job, and I promised you all that I would be as open and upfront about that kind of thing as humanly possible.

Partly this is also as a way to try something new other than Alpha Strike.
This DOESN'T mean that I'm going to start neglecting or slow down with Alpha Strike. Rather, this new novel is my way of mixing things up a bit, as I've started to burn out a bit on Alpha Strike (as I'm sure some of you have noticed).
By doing it this way, I also lock myself into getting the job done. I can't just say "Meh, I'll work on it later." Nope, I got a commitment I need to fulfill to my subscribers. That's how I keep myself on track with these kinds of things and keep myself accountable.

The current plan is to Alternate chapters on a day to day bias. So Monday would be the new story, Tuesday Alpha Strike, Wednesday New story, Thursday Alpha Strike, etc etc. Then spend Friday/Sat to do Editing on Book 1 of Alpha Strike.
The first 2 Chapters (the second of which is an entirely new chapter no one has ever seen yet!) are already up on Patreon!
I DO plan on eventually releasing the new novel on Royal Road and other sites, but I want to focus on Patreon first, until both stories are in a better spot. This does mean that each tier will be 2 chapters ahead of the previous one at the start, but I plan on bumping that up in line with Alpha Strike eventually.

For now, I'll be posting the first to Chapters in a little bit, meaning Field Commanders will be the first to see it, with Pathfinders likely getting their first chapter Wednesday.
This ALSO means that Patreon will be the first eyes on the new story, and you feedback/comments will be what fuels the direction of the story, so be sure to tell me what you think!

With that said, take a look at the Synopsis below and tell me what you think!
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"We Lease The Kraken!: A Pet Shop/Collection System Story"
Reliquum; the last bastion of reality in a sea of silent stagnation and existential rot.
At its center, lies Nexus, a world where realities overlap and both Heroes and Horrors are born daily.
Jeremiah Bridge is just a mild-mannered veterinary student with a knack for cooking and a sister who's super (literally) in everything she does.
That cushy life is turned on its head when his sister is killed suddenly and framed for a crime Jeremiah knows in his heart she couldn't have committed.
With his life overthrow, everything taken from him and all he'd ever been working toward destroyed, Jeremiah struggles to adapt.
One final gift from his sister, however, will drag him kicking and scream out of the depths of his despair, and into a world few on Nexus ever see beyond the screen of their phones. With the help of a mysterious winged guide and an eight-legged companion thrust on him, Jeremiah will begin digging into the dark shadows of Nexus in an attempt to learn the truth about what happened to his sister.
Soon he'll learn a terrible truth, however.
Some things are best left in the dark.
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Inspired by stories like Gourmet of another world, Gourmet food supplier, The Innkeeper, Number One Dungeon Supplier, and other similar types, "We Lease The Kraken!" is a Pet Shop management style story that seeks to blend a few different genres into a unique experience that is comfortable enough to be familiar, but with enough twists and turns to keep you guessing.

What to expect;

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System-Based Story: A more traditional "System" story, WLTK takes inspiration from some of the older, more progression style systems like "The Legendary Mechanic" and "Gourmet of Another World", rather than the more game-like system stories. But with a modern flare that will appeal to lovers of both style of stories!
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A somewhat dark-minded, but not Edgy MC: Jeremiah starts the story off in a dark place. Hounded by grief and the desire for the truth (or at the very least, vengeance), the story won't start off with sunshine and rainbows. Instead, the vibe I'm going for is a dark and stormy night, that slowly fades away to show the sun shining through once more. At the end of the day, this is a story about healing, and the journey we take, wherever that might lead us.
Jeremiah will heal. Given time, and maybe more than a little blood.
====
Complex Characters: None of the characters in this story will be simple. Everyone has their own motivations, desires and goals. Nothing is black and white on Nexus, as fitting a place where cultures, values and even minds can be as alien as any of the thousands of worlds connected to it. In Nexus, the "Why" is often just as important as the "What," and the thin line between "Hero" and "Villain" may come down to nothing more than who's watching.
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A somewhat slow burn: This story is planned to be a bit of a slow burn. Not terribly so, but don't expect revelation after revelation. This is a story about the Journey, and the march of time.
====
A story of Action... and healing: While WLTK will have its fair share of dramatic moments and heart pounding action, It is also a story about grief, guilt, and how we heal ourselves of the scars left behind by tragedy. There will be happy times and sad times. There will be points were you want to slap the MC, and time when you'll want to cheer along with him.
====
No Harem!: Need I say more?
 
B2 - Lesson 25: "Big Brother is Always Listening."
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B2 - Lesson 25: "Big Brother is Always Listening."
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The massive shadow cut through the water at high speeds, and soon, it arrived at the bandit's work area. As the shadow lingered in the area, the thick cloud of concealing silt and mud slowly spread out until the entire section of the river was murky and brown. For a moment, the forest held its breath as not a single creature dared to make a sound.

Then, with the sound of cascading water and a resounding BOOM! one of the worker's dredgers shot into the air. Not even a breath later, a gargantuan beast burst from the water and caught the dredger between its rows of shark-like teeth. The dredger and Mud Drake both fell and hit the water's surface with a giant splash.

Once more, the river was thrown into chaos as the Mud Drake violently thrashed and rampaged, intent on turning the dredger into scraps. When the draconic spirit beast was finally content, it tossed the ruined dredger into the air and sent the remains hurdling toward the treeline with a spinning slap from its fishlike tail. The ruined dredger slammed into one of the massive trees and shattered into fragments.

The Mud Drake then stood and roared toward the remains, its loud, screeching voice almost driving Hugo to his knees.

As the drake stared into the trees, its low, rumbling vocalizations made the ground vibrate slightly. Finally, after a long moment, it turned and trudged back toward the river.

"About time…"

Hugo didn't see who had spoken, but his eyes went wide, and he grabbed both Bill and Claude's collars, forcing them to the ground. In that same instant, the Mud Drake whirled around, its mouth opened wide. Instead of roaring, however, a thin 'beam' of pressurized water, no thicker than Hugo's thumb, erupted from the back of the drake's throat.

Faster than anyone could blink, the beam of water cut across the distance between the river and the treeline. The Mud Drake swept the beam from side to side, carving deep grooves into the trees… and anything else in its path if the screaming said anything.

When the beam finally settled, the drake gave one last roar — much softer this time, as if it had overworked its voice — then turned back to the river.

As quickly as it had appeared, its massive shadow vanished downstream.

Hugo let out a breath and let his shoulders sag. It wouldn't have been the first time the Mud Drake had taken offense at their little operation and destroyed some of their equipment. Yet, every time, some idiot didn't bother reading the information pamphlet that was handed out.

Fools. A Mud Drake's eyesight might have been absolutely terrible for a creature of its power, but its hearing was among the best.

"Ok, show's over, wrap it up and head back to the village for reassignment! No dawdling! Get moving! Now!" the goblin overseer yelled out once it was clear the Mud Drake wasn't returning.

"And someone get these idiots to Dr. Maria before they bleed out! I don't want something nasty attracted to the blood!" the goblin finished, pointing at two men who were too slow or dumb to avoid the Mud Drake's attack in time. One leaned up against a tree, clutching a mangled arm that barely hung on by scraps, while another lay on his side, a deep gash running horizontally across his chest.

Both men were at least [Silver Spirit] Cultivators, so the wounds wouldn't kill them immediately, but Hugo doubted they would be walking on their own any time soon.

As others moved to assist them, Hugo shook his head and turned toward the village, Bill and Claude following behind him.

The dredging teams couldn't do any more dredging today, not while the Mud Drake was downriver. It was simply too dangerous and unpredictable. They could only work in the morning while the beast slept in its den. Thankfully, it never really ventured too far from the river proper, so as long as you didn't approach while it was out and about, there wasn't any chance of bumping into it just wandering the forest.

Hugo doubted anyone could live in the cavern, if that wasn't the case.

The muddy river would slowly clear over the next few hours, the Spirit Energy-rich mud and silt following in the Mud Drake's wake, settling to the bottom. By tomorrow morning, the waters would be crystal clear once more, and new plant growth will have already taken root.

Bill tsked at Hugo's side as they turned and headed back toward the village.

"Well, there goes the day," he said. "Where do you think they'll put us next?"

"Pleeeease, not the quarry. Anything but the quarry…" Claude begged.

"What do you have against the quarry anyway?" Bill asked.

Claude turned to him and said with a flat face, "You've never seen someone crushed by a falling rock and it shows."

Bill returned the blank stare but didn't respond, only shaking his head slightly.

Hugo was the one to break the awkward silence. "They'll probably stick us on the wall… again."

The other two men groaned.

"What the hell!? What are they even building out here?!" Bill asked, throwing up his arms.

"A wall, obviously, idiot," came Claude's response.

Bill glared at the other man. "I know that. I mean, why are they building it? It doesn't even connect to anything! It's just one stupidly long wall in the middle of a forest!"

Hugo frowned. It was a bit of a mystery. The aptly named 'wall' was a four-kilometer-long, six-meter-high, and two-meter-thick stone wall built in the middle of the forest about a third of the way between the village and the river.

It was a massive construct that couldn't have been built in the week they had been working on if not for the joint efforts of the goblins, the bandits, and — shockingly — ants.

The only thing was, none of the bandits could tell why the bloody thing was being built. It would make sense if it was some kind of fortification for the village or if it was being used to keep something out, but the ends didn't even connect to anything! Not only that, but the slight bend toward the river made even less sense.

If the wall was made to keep the village safe from the Mud Drake, it was wholly inadequate. And why would they not build it closer to the river or village? Why build it in the middle of a random forest? It was just one more strange thing the goblins had them doing recently.

"It's a waste, is what it is!" he said, throwing his hands into the air. They were far enough away from anyone at this point that they didn't really need to be overly quiet. The goblins were pretty lax about traveling in between various tasks. The bandit's… collars ensured they would be where they needed to be and when. Not that a few people hadn't tried to take advantage or even escape.

No one tried more than once.

Claude shook his head in disappointment, sharing a rare moment of agreement with the other man.

"Truly. They're using [Deep Marble] for the bricks and refined clay and gravel from a Dragon Pool for the mortar! If someone with the right skills got ahold of even some of the mud we've been dredging up downstream, they could refine it into spiritual tablets that would sell for a premium in Halirosa, if they could get the right complementary ingredients.. Hell, I bet it even has some alchemical uses if the water is anything to go by." Claude had mentioned — more than once — his dream of becoming an Alchemist one day. But such things were beyond men like them.

Hugo sighed as well, trying not to think about it.

"Let's just get to the village and get our next task. I don't want to be late for dinner again."

The mention of food seemed to be all the other men needed, and all three doubled their pace.

As they neared the check-in station set up for the bandits, Hugo stared up at the ceiling.

Just one day at a time…

—————————————————————

In a certain cavern, a certain AI played through the recorded audio logs with interest.

Alpha knew that monitoring the captured bandits would pay off eventually, but he hadn't been sure how.

And to be fair, most of the inmate's conversations were decidedly… boring. But every so often, he'd catch wind of a good lead.

"Hmmmm. Interesting indeed."

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//Alpha Log -

6952 SFY-Third Era, 5 standard months since Planetfall.

3 weeks since the battle to retake the Goblin village.


'Operation: Safari Hunt' is progressing smoothly, for the most part.

Safari Hunt's primary goals are simple. We need something to distract the official Adventurer's Guild expedition party — and whatever forces this Icefinger fellow sends — from both my primary base, and give the expedition party a reason to side with the goblin village. So I've decided, why not kill two birds with one stone?

With that in mind, plans for a secondary operations area, Site B, have been implemented. With help from Antchaser and Dr. Maria, the current plan is to fashion Site B into a 'Dungeon ruin.' Essentially, a Dungeon that has degraded through either age or damage. Despite their degraded state, however, both claim they are still seen as valuable resources, as they often retain some of their previous functionality, even if the actual inheritance has been lost.

Overall, it should act as a decent enough cover, letting the Adventurers' Guild have their shiny prize while keeping them away from the important stuff.

We don't expect to keep the ruse up indefinitely. But by the time the cracks start showing, I'll have already accumulated enough power between the ants and goblins that it shouldn't matter.

Not to say sacrifices haven't had to be made. Given our time crunch, all ongoing construction efforts have shifted from expanding my base at the ant colony to creating Site B. Or, as the goblins in the know have taken to calling it, the 'Dragon's Garden.' A little chūnibyō if you ask me, but Antchaser assures me such trends are common among dungeons. It seems no matter how powerful one becomes, one can't escape the rule of cool.

That said, we have hit a few… hiccups.

According to what I've gathered, 'Dungeons' serve three main purposes.

1 - To act as training grounds and tests for individuals attempting that Dungeon's 'inheritance.'

2 - Producing various 'artifacts' as Antchaser calls them. Basically just tools, weapons and rewards for the trial takers.

3 - Raising various creatures to be used in said trials or as materials to make the rewards.

Current construction is mainly focused on the wall that will act as the entrance to Site B. The current plan is for the wall to encompass roughly a third of the cavern. It will eventually circle the section of the river with the lifeform the locals call a 'Mud Drake' at its center. This serves the dual purpose of isolating the dangerous, evil creature from the rest of the cavern to some extent as well.

You will always be remembered, Alphantonso III!

Ahem.

As I was saying. Unfortunately, with only a week more to work on it before the Adventurers are expected to show up, there's no way it'll be finished in time. Even using the ants and captured bandits as a labor force to quarry bricks and dredge river sediment for mortar won't come close to being enough to finish.

That's where good ol'smoke and mirrors come into play. Using the villagers and hunters as 'friendly native guides,' we can direct the Adventurers where we want and keep them away from the areas still under construction.

Surprisingly, it was Boarslayer who had come up with the idea. Apparently, it wasn't uncommon for more friendly Adventurer parties to hire native guides and hunters to show them all the best spots. Some Deep Tribes made a fair living doing just that.

All I have to do was set up some simple challenges and puzzles, along with some 'artifacts', and boom, my very own guided Dungeon Safari! The 'artifacts' were the simple part of all this.

With my printer banks growing each day and even more task-specific workshops going up soon, I can finally say things are looking up in the resource department!

No, where I'm really struggling is in the third aspect…

The original plan had just been to throw ants behind the wall, but Antchaser insists that would raise questions they couldn't answer yet.

After that, the plan was adjusted to collect genetic samples from various creatures and stock Site B as needed to simulate a strong ecosystem.

Just like the sapient people, the creatures of this world seem capable of naturally absorbing the radiant energy in the environment to grow stronger and even mutate in certain ways. Some are so well adapted to this process even, that lab-grown clones aren't viable in the normal way, as the creatures don't have the time to absorb enough energy to grow properly.

This makes the cloning process far more complicated and time-intensive than that of the ants, which are biologically designed for rapid growth and propagation.

They still can be grown, and I'm already working on several translight enclosers for this very purpose, but they won't be ready for the expedition party.

So, instead, I've had the goblins running around this and neighboring caverns, capturing as many samples of the various wildlife as they can find.

Of course, wildlife being wildlife, they didn't care much for being suddenly tossed into a new area filled with other strange creatures. Nor did they have the habit of staying there, what with the wall still being a work in progress.

That problem was solved easily enough with the same restraint collars I used on the inmates, as well as some other modifications. Most of the stocked creatures were quickly learning to stay out of fights and to avoid the marked boundaries where the rest of the wall would eventually go up.

As for what comes next, all we can do is hope these next Adventurers are more… agreeable than the last.
 
B2 - Lesson 26: "Free Time is an Illusion."
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B2 - Lesson 26: "Free Time is an Illusion."
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Antchaser and Boarslayer's team made their way through the village gate just as the bell for dinner rang. Communal meals had only been popular among the hunters before the bandits had arrived, and even then, only because they allowed the hunting parties to relax after a long day.

With the longhouse destroyed and every able hand working to rebuild the village, such meals had become more common. Even if it took the form of people waiting in line in front of a large pot most days. Nonetheless, it was an important time for the goblin villagers to gather and socialize. It was a small bit of normality at an otherwise stressful time.

It helped that the bandits took their own meal to the designated areas outside of the village walls, giving the goblins some time away from them.

Today was slightly different, however.

It had been three days since the capture of the Mossback troop. It was time for a celebration!

A long table had been set up in the middle of the village square, filled with various foods and treats. The spread couldn't compare to what it might have once been in the past, but it was impressive, even still. After all, they were celebrating the completion of one of the major projects Alpha had assigned them. Ahead of schedule even!

Now that they had captured enough spirit beasts for the Dragon's Garden, they could finally start redistributing people to address workforce gaps in other areas. Most of the goblins didn't really understand everything they were doing, but those few in the know knew that time was running short. The more they could get done, the greater the chance the plan had to succeed. If they could pull this off, it could change everything for the village.

Technically, the treaties between the Deep and Halirosa covered all the peoples, tribes, and villages of the Deep Tunnels. In practice, only the largest and most important tribes ever had any say in what actually happened. If Antchaser's village could actually negotiate a deal with not just the Adventurers' Guild but Halirosa itself, their status on the social hierarchy would instantly skyrocket. Regardless of their small size.

Antchaser's mind was filled with visions of the future even as he piled his wooden plate with various foods: roast boar, various spirit fruits, and even a few pickled river plants. Several of the 'weeds' pulled up by the bandits during their dredging had been identified as edible. Things such as a type of watercress and even wasabi — once cleaned and processed — added a much-needed variety to the goblins' diets.

After piling his plate high, Antchaser approached the head table. At the table sat several goblins, including Boarslayer, the Elder, and several of the project managers. However, one oddity at the table was Dr. Maria, who sat to one side of Boarslayer. Many in the village didn't look too thrilled to have an Adventurer at the table for what was quickly becoming Alpha's — and thus the village's — inner circle.

But the woman's rather charismatic personality and seemingly genuine desire to help the sick and wounded had helped smother much of the lingering embers of resentment Bosco and his group brought about.

Dr. Maria smiled and waved Antchaser over. The goblin sat down on the doctor's free side and returned the smile. On her other side, Boarslayer leaned forward, her mouth stuffed with roast meat. She stared down at his modest plate, then back up at him, and smirked, her eyes narrowing in humor. The muscled bound goblin took a large bite of her roast and turned back to her food, easily three times as packed as his own… or anyone else's at the table, for that matter.

Antchaser rolled his eyes and dug into his own dinner. He promised himself he'd relish every bite. After so long, with so little, the village was finally starting to truly prosper. Even after the tragedy brought by the bandits . But today was a celebration! They could afford to spoil the villager a bit.

Good food and a merry atmosphere went a long way towards morale.

After he'd gotten the chance to eat some, Dr. Maria spoke up;

"So… about our Drake problem."

Antchaser took another bite and paused before asking. "Is it getting bad?"

Boarslayer was the one to answer. "The dredging teams only finished half their quota done today, and the pest destroyed another dredger," she said through a half-full mouth.

Antchaser sighed.

Across the table, Weaver, the older female goblin who had been put in charge of logistics and resources, pointed a drumstick at him. "The dredger itself isn't too big of a loss, as long as you can request another from Lord Alpha. The bigger issue is this is the third time in as many days. It's learning."

Anchaser frowned. That was a problem. As a lesser dragon, the Mud Drake wasn't sapient and wouldn't become such until it was much stronger. Yet, that didn't mean it was a stupid beast, either, far from it.

Dr. Maria tented her hand and rested her chin on top of them. "Mud Drakes are ambush predators by nature. They wait in muddy riverbanks for other large creatures to come for a drink, then drown them when they approach. It may see the dredging operations as disturbing its hunting grounds. Chasing away larger game, destroying the riverbank, and forcing it further downriver."

"All the more reason we need to deal with it," Antchaser said. "If we can't at least stop it from disrupting operations, we'll not make it time for the plan to work—not as well as we need it to. We only have a week left before the expedition party shows up. That's including the time it'll take them to make it to the cavern from the surface."

"Yaaaaa, about that… Slight change of plans."

Conversation at the table paused as every eye turned to look at the silver [Wasp] that had landed a large bird thigh held by Boarslayer.

Alpha turned to look at Antchaser. "I need you three to meet me in the Lab. Alternate options have presented themselves, and I need your input, especially about the state of Halirosa and the surrounding settlements."

Antchaser shared a look between Dr. Maria and Boarslayer, then nodded. "Understood, sir. We'll come right away."

Alpha's [Wasp] wiggled. "No rush. Finish your meal, but don't dawdle. The more time we have to speak, the better. Elder and Weaver, I'll likely keep them for some time. Please see that the appropriate people are made aware," he said.

"Yes sir," came the response from the two goblins. The Elder may have been the official leader of the village and the one with the most pull out of anyone at the table, but even the ancient goblin understood who was really in charge.

Some might have argued they had only exchanged one tyrant for another, but four centuries of life had taught the Elder that who wore the proverbial crown rarely mattered. What mattered was how the people benefited from it. And even he could not deny that the village had done nothing but grow from the Dungeon Core's control. Even if only a few of them understood most of what the Core wanted.

Alpha turned back to Antchaser. "Good. See you soon."

Everyone at the table nodded. Boarslayer shrugged, then bit into the bird thigh, swallowing flesh, bone, and [Wasp] whole.

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Two hours later, Antchaser, Dr. Maria, and Boarslayer stood under a blind by the cavern wall, watching a line of Demon Ants march up the wall toward the colony entrance far above. None of them made a sound. Theoretically, it was perfectly safe where they were, but it was still unnerving to be so close to the colony, especially when their hunting parties were out and about.

It had recently been discovered that the ant colony was also attached to several neighboring caverns. This helped to explain why the ant's presence was so light in the goblin's cavern, despite both the colony and the cavern being so large. But that didn't make them any less dangerous if they discovered you in their territory.

As the rest of the ants returned to the colony, one of them broke off and made its way toward the blind. The occupants tensed until a tendril extended from the ant's head and flashed green at the tip, signaling that it was one of the ants controlled by Alpha.

Boarslayer walked forward and pushed the door of the blind open for the ant. Once inside, the ant approached the nearby stone wall and extended another tendril into the solid stone. After a moment, there was a click, and part of the wall slid back and to the side, revealing a long, well-lit tunnel. The ant made their way down the tunnel at a rapid pace, leaving the two goblins and human woman to make their own way. When the last of them crossed the threshold, the hidden door slid silently shut behind them.

A few minutes of walking later, they approached a small platform with a long tunnel stretching to either end. The group stopped at the edge of the platform and waited.

As they did, Dr. Maria spoke. "I've been wondering… Does the Dun — ahem — Mr. Alpha often seek your council like this? Testing our knowledge, I can understand, given how dependent on crafting and various esoteric wisdoms his Inheritance seems dependent on. Yet, at times, his questions seem… strange. As if he doesn't understand some of the more basic, fundamental things that should be obvious."

Antchaser opened his mouth to answer but paused. She had a point. He wanted to argue it, but it did feel strange that Alpha would test them on a theoretically complicated subject like how a certain array structure interacted with various others. Only to turn around and ask a basic question even a child might know, such as how Spirit Energy moved through various types of mediums.

It was Boarslayer who answered, though. "Of course he would," she scoffed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He's been trapped down here for how many centuries? You're a doctor, Maria. More than most, you should be aware of how quickly information and understanding can change. Why wouldn't he want to confirm that what we know hadn't deviated too far?"

Antchaser raised a brow at Boarslayer's unusually well-spoken response… and the rather casual way she addressed the doctor. When had these two grown so close?

Dr. Maria nodded thoughtfully. "That's possible. In the two weeks I have worked for him, Mr. Alpha has shown me wonders and concepts in the field of medicine I would have never thought possible before. Things even I can only explain as miracles. Yet even so, I can't help but wonder why. Why does he do any of this? It's so outside of how Dungeon Cores typically operate that I find myself wondering what the end goal is."

Boarslayer shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. I'm just paid to hit things."

Annnnd there was the Boarslayer he knew. Antchaser sighed. She wasn't even paid! She did it for fun!

Before Antchaser could give his own two coppers, there was a rush of wind, and a large, egg-shaped metal object rushed out of the side tunnel. It slowed and came to a silent stop in front of the platform the three of them stood on. There was a click, and the sides of the egg slid up, revealing a rather spacious compartment with several seats.

Antchaser took a step toward the vehicle. "Enough chatter, let's go see wha—woah!"

A large hand grabbed Antchaser's collar and pulled him aside. "Ladies first!" Boarslayer said.

Dr. Maria chuckled and walked into the cabin, followed by Boarslayer. Antchaser sighed and shook his head, then stepped inside at last. The door slid back down, and, with a slight jerk, they accelerated forward. It would only take them a few minutes to reach the Lab.

It may not have been a lot, but it was a precious few moments of peace, allowing him time to think and reflect.

Sometimes I miss having free time…
 
She wasn't even paid! She did it for fun!

That's absolutely hilarious. I can see why Alpha goes with those three. The mad scientist, the innovator, and the one who likes to break things. Such a great combination, and each calling to a part of his personality.

Yeah, it helps relations that Alpha really is a benevolent ruler. His job is to conquer, and he will absolutely use local resources and people. But, that's a job, not him wanting to rule.
 
B2: GRIM Adventures - 11
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B2: GRIM Adventures - 11
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Baron Ashdale turned and nodded. "As surely as the sun rises. For as old and as powerful as Morgana is, she's twice as vindictive. She'll be weak for a while, which will buy you some time, but not much. I would recommend you to flee these mountains as soon as possible. She won't leave them or get too close to Halirosa. She might treat Ashdale as a game, but even she wouldn't test the full might of the Adventurer's Capital."

"We can't do that!" Jill cried out, maybe a bit too fast.

Baron Ashdale raised a brow, and Jill blushed, sinking back into her chair and looking away.

After a silent moment, Baron Ashdale spoke. "At the end of the day, I can't make your choices for you. All I can do is offer you advice. Morgana isn't a simple foe by any means. Even at the height of his power, Progenitor Ashdale couldn't weed out that parasite fully."

The table slipped into an awkward silence.

Jill knew what the Baron was intending… but it didn't matter. Turning back was no longer an option.

"Ah! Before I forget." Baron Ashdale broke the silence a moment later, jerking Jill from her ruminations.

He leaned forward. "Since you enjoyed the tale of my clan's Dragon spruce, I've got another story for you! Would you want to hear it?"

Both Jack and Mr. Gopher leaned forward, their eyes practically sparkling as they nodded.

Baron Ashdale's grin grew wider, and he laughed. The older man leaned back in his chair, placed one hand against the bottom of his muzzle, and stared up at the tree in contemplation. "Hmmm. Now, how did that go again? Ah! Yes! That's right." He snapped and pointed at Jill.

He leaned over the table once more and grinned a devilish smile.

"Did you know the Ashdale and Rubyseed Progenitors once met each other?"

"What?!"

"How?!"

Jack and Jill both responded.

Baron Ashdale threw his head back and laughed.

Jill narrowed her eyes. "Sir Ashdale, while I appreciate the hospitality you and your clan have shown us, and I'd hate to call you a liar, I honestly don't see how that's possible."

That was an understatement.

While the Ashdale clan was relatively powerful politically, militarily, and economically, it was a young Awakened Beast clan in the grand scheme of things. An Awakened clan's power was in its bloodline, passed down from its Progenitor. This bloodline not only granted the clan its sapience and strength but also allowed an Awakened Beast of significant strength to take on human form.

When exactly was determined by many factors, mostly the type of spirit beast the Progenitor was more closely related to and the overall purity of their descendant's bloodline.

In general, the stronger the Awakened's bloodline and the more powerful their Origin, the harder it was for them to take human form.

Typically, the Progenitor themselves would only reach human form after breaking into [Firmament Breaker], the third and final greater realm before Ascension. First-generation offspring, on the other hand, could often do so as early as [Soul Fusion] or [Shedding Flesh], the midpoint of the second greater realm, [Earthly Transcendence].

However, there was another way for an Awakened to take human form.

To be born with it.

Once in human form, crossbreeding with humans or other humanoid races, even other Awakened Beasts, was possible. Why one might do this varied from person to person, but the most common reason was to strengthen their offspring's compatibility with human cultivation techniques. This resulted in children who grew quickly and faced fewer restrictions or bottlenecks.

Mixing blood in such a way wasn't without its downsides, however. Children born through the union of man and beast were born with a weaker bloodline as they drifted further and further away from their Progenitor. It was a delicate balancing act between the power of their bloodline and the flexibility of human cultivation. However, an Awakened who obtained human form on their own merits would almost always be more powerful.

Eventually, most clans would slowly evolve into a form similar to Baron Ashdale, retaining much of their primal beastal feature but gaining many of the benefits of a humanoid form. Walking shifted to a more bipedal form, while paws and claws became grasping hands. Throats and voice boxes twisted to become capable of human speech, while digestive tracts became able to process different materials.

In fact, the Ashdale were at what many Awakened considered the peak of a clan's potential, having both the strength of their bloodline to lean on and the flexibility and breadth of human cultivation. This often resulted in explosive growth for a clan as a whole, and many sought to maintain the period for as long as possible.

This was in stark contrast to Jack and Jill's own clan.

The Rubyseed Iron-tailed squirrel clan was old blood — so old that some of Halirosa's founding members had been Rubyseed, if in a small part. With that age, however, came a weakening of their bloodline. Even as children, Jack and Jill could have passed as human if not for their signature tails. In a few more generations, their bloodline might grow so weak that not even their tails manifested, effectively signaling the end of the Rubyseed lineage through extinction.

There were ways to strengthen one's bloodline and draw closer to one's Origin, though such methods were beyond their clan's means.

Baron Ashdale grinned and nodded. "Yes, I was quite surprised myself when I learned of it. I wouldn't have thought it possible if it were not for my ancestors' journals, though it makes some sense in retrospect. After all, as I mentioned before, Progenitor Ashdale was quite the wanderer. Unlike many Progenitors, he only settled down and established the clan later in his life."

Baron Ashdale picked up his cup and sipped his tea before continuing.

"One of his earliest journals, while he was still quite young, records his meeting with a rather… eccentric old squirrel preparing for ascension."

"Hold up, I'm confused," Jill cut the Baron off. "Even assuming any of this actually happened, what does it have to do with the Dragon spruce?"

Baron Ashdale smiled, nodded his head, and stared at the tree. "I was getting there. You have to understand something first, however. You see, the tree in this garden isn't the first Dragon spruce to grace these mountains. No, that honor belongs to Progenitor Rubyseed's tree. Not only that, but despite her size and age, you must understand that this old girl, in reality, is still just a sapling."

By this point, Jack was practically vibrating in excitement, and Jill knew her brother well enough to know that the man already had a thousand questions rushing through his head.

Jill raised a brow and looked up at the tree as well. She found it hard to believe such a massive tree could be called a sapling in any context. Then again, even for as large as Ashdale's tree was, it was hard to imagine flocks of drakes roosting in its branches. She let the Baron continue.

"Progenitor Rubyseed's tree, in contrast, was ancient. According to my ancestor's journals, the tree was so massive that the mountain it sat upon had become more root than stone."

Jill held up a hand. "Hold up. I think we'd know about a tree that size. Even with how big the Crimson Mountains are, something like that would have been visible for thousands of miles in all directions. You think someone would have mentioned it before?"

Baron Ashdale only shrugged. "I can't say for certain what happened to it. Maybe someone eventually came along and cut it down, finding it was excellent material. Or… maybe Progenitor Rubyseed took it wherever he went. Progenitor Ashdale never found out. When he returned a decade later, both his friend and tree had simply… vanished. These events eventually fed Progenitor Ashdale's interest in the far north, and was why he had brought back and planted his own Dragon spruce in this valley. Partly as a memorial to a friend to whom he never got to say goodby, and partly hoping one day she'd grow just as majestic as the one from his memory."

Jack and Jill stared in wide-eyed silence.

Bang!

Jack shot up from his chair and slammed his palms onto the table.

"You have to let us see those journals! Do you have any idea what this could mean?!"

Jill had to agree. Whatever happened to Progenitor Rubyseed had always been a bit of a mystery. Despite Having reached the legendary status of [True Celestial], the last step of the [Firmament Breaker] realm, no one, not even his clan, had actually expected a squirrel to Ascend.

So when Progenitor Rubyseed vanished into the mist one day, everyone assumed he'd been nearing the end of his natural lifespan and had gone off to prepare his ultimate resting place. After all, even [Firmament Breaker] Cultivators weren't immortal. In fact, the "Tomb of Rubyseed" had become somewhat of an urban legend over the millennia, with dozens of stories — and false reports of its discovery — about the theorized treasures it might contain, spurring on young Adventurers to comb the Crimson mountains in search of it.

Even Jill had to admit she'd often fantasized about finding her ancestor's hidden tomb in her youth. About reclaiming the treasure within for her clan and finally lifting them out of the pit that time and poor choices had stranded them in.

That all those countless centuries of speculations, exploring, and rumor mill may have been based on a false premise from the start was frankly mind-boggling.

Baron Ashdale smirked. "Typically, even I couldn't let outsiders have access to clan records so easily. But… given the circumstances and the boon you've given us, I'm sure I can arrange something," he said with a chuckle.

"Woot!" Jack thrust his arms into the air, giving a confused Mr. Gopher a high-five from across the table.

"For now, finish your tea, and I'll send for someone to make the appropriate requests," Baron Ashdale continued. "I find it is perfect for fighting the chill, especially here in the mountains. I'll be sure to send some along with you when you head on your way."

Still lost in thought over today's revelation, Jill nodded and reached for her cup.

She lifted it up to take a sip… then froze, her eyes wide. Her heart pounded as her hand shook slightly, and her eyes snapped up to meet Baron Ashdale's.

The man only smiled gently over his own cup.

He knew.

Of course, he knew…

The man easily controlled Little Red, meaning he was likely already at [Elemental Dominance], maybe even early [Core Condensing]. He could read her like a book from the very start.

It took more than a slight effort to still her shaking hand, but Jill eventually raised the cup the rest of the way and broke eye contact with Baron Ashdale. As soon as the tea hit her core, its soothing warmth spread through her body, melting what ice had gathered in her veins during their talk. It would return, in time, she could tell. But for that brief, blessed moment, warmth returned to her body.

If anyone had bothered to ask, Jill would have claimed the moister at the corner of her eyes was nothing more than steam.

The group spent the next few moments in silence as each person was lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, Baron Ashdale sat his cup down and stood.

"Well, now, no point in wasting any more time. How about we go see if we can't do something about those journals?" he said with a smile.

"Finally! Let's go!" Jack yelled as he stood. Jill's brother grabbed up Mr. Gopher — much to their chagrin — and rushed for the garden entrance.

Baron Ashdale laughed and chased after them. Before he'd taken more than a few steps, however, Baron Ashdale turned and looked at Jill.

"Are you coming, my dear?" he asked. I promise, my ancestor is a far better storyteller than I am."

Jill nodded and responded. "Ya… I'll catch up in a moment as soon as I finish my tea."

Baron Ashdale nodded but said nothing more, instead turning and walking toward the same entrance Jack had vanished through.

Jill sat at the table, enjoying the silence as she contemplated things.

Was Baron Ashdale right? Were they taking too much of a risk remaining in these mountains? Was she needlessly putting Jack in danger? It wasn't like the [Pure Water] spring was going anywhere, nor would her affliction kill her… anytime soon, at least.

The more she thought about the matter, the more an odd feeling began welling up inside her. It was only after a few moments that Jill realized that the feeling wasn't really coming from her, however.

Tilting her head in confusion, Jill accessed her storage ring and pulled out a small object. It was a… seed. A large seed half the size of her fist. It was the very seed her grandmother had given her.

There it was again, a slight pulse. Faint, fleeting, but not just her imagination.

Jill frowned, then slowly turned to stare up at the giant tree in the middle of the garden, her eyes narrowing. She stood and slowly made her way toward the trunk.

With each step she took, the odd feeling grew stronger, resonating with something deep inside her that she quickly recognized was her bloodline.

By the time she drew close enough to touch the trunk — nimbly dodging the kicking leg of Little Red in his sleep — both the seed and her bloodline felt like they were slightly… humming.

Jill looked down at the seed, then back up at the Dragon spruce.

Silently, she whispered a phrase that, even after months of exploring and contemplation, had remained a mystery to her.

"Where roots meet the sky…"
 
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B2 - Lesson 27: "All Natural MUD"
Schedule Update!

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B2 - Lesson 27: "All Natural MUD"
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A thousand metal arms worked on dozens of projects, lending an air of controlled chaos to the scene filling the gargantuan complex.

The Controlled Research and Experimentation Laboratory — or just the 'Lab' as those in the know had taken to calling it — was a sprawling labyrinth of testing, manufacturing, and growing labs. Built into solid rock nearly a kilometer underneath the ant colony proper, it was quickly becoming the center for Alpha's research. It had to be built so far away to prevent the ants from inadvertently digging into it.

This was especially important because as Alpha's manufacturing ability increased, so did his ability to expand and build, which in turn further increased his capabilities. It was less like a snowball and more like your father when he went through his hobbyist phase and wouldn't stop buying new toys.

And Alpha has a lot of new toys…

Moreover, the possibilities would only increase if this new project turned out how he thought it would. All that was missing was —

"Ah! Good! You're here!" Alpha spoke through the Lab speakers as the doors to the rail platform slid open. The transport rail was the newest addition to the Lab. It was far more efficient than having ants transport everything down the long corridors. As Antchaser, Dr. Maria, and Boarslayer stepped into the reception chamber, Antchaser stepped forward and stood in a red circle painted in the middle of the room.

A metal arm unfolded from the ceiling and pointed itself at the goblin. A wide blue beam shot from the tip of the arm and scanned the man, circling around to capture every angle. When the light turned green, Antchaser stepped out of the ring and walked toward a closed door opposite the entrance they had entered. He pressed his hand against a flat screen beside it, and the screen flashed green once more. The door opened, and the goblin walked through before it shut behind him.

One after another, Dr. Maria and Boarslayer repeated the process until all three were on the other side of the security checkpoint.

Alpha honestly doubted that any of them could have been compromised — not quite at this point in the game — but it was always good to establish procedures early. As the checkpoint door closed behind them, an ant walked around the corner and greeted them. Alpha could have just spoken to them through the various speakers, but he'd found the natives responded far better when he interacted 'face-to-face.'

"What did you want us to see, sir?" Antchaser asked as the ant led them down the hallway.

"Well, you see…" came the response. "Thanks to new information gathered by monitoring the inmates, I've made a recent breakthrough regarding a previous project we had originally scrapped."

"The nascent Dragon Pool?" Antchaser asked.

Ant Alpha nodded. Hugo and his little group might have thought the goblins weren't aware of the Dragon Pool, but in fact, Alpha had been closely monitoring them specifically to track the effects of prolonged exposure. Of course, the goblins had known about the Dragon Pool, but the Mud Drake's presence had been a heavy deterrent. What water they could collect had to be from far downstream, where it had less impact.

"But I thought we agreed it was still too soon to get much use out of it? The Dragon Pool won't mature for quite some time. We're talking about a scale of decades, if not centuries. If it's tampered with too soon, it could collapse." Dr. Maria said.

She wasn't wrong. When the goblins first told him about the so-called 'Dragon Pool', it had piqued his interest. But light testing had been… disappointing. It was not that the properties of the Dragon Pool were uninteresting; they were simply far too weak. A quick injection of the basic healing liquid found in any Federation first-aid kit was more effective in the short term. And even that didn't compare to proper medical nanites. Even the Dragon Pool's water-cleaning properties were ultimately unimportant for his current projects.

At the end of the day, it wasn't worth damaging the Dragon Pool with extensive testing, given what it might one day become.

"So what's changed?" Boarslayer asked.

Alpha mentally grinned and responded. "First, let me ask you a question. What are spiritual tablets?"

Antchaser and Dr. Maria shared, "They're small clay tablets that can hold minor arrays. They're related to jade tablets, but far inferior in quality and often one-time use. The materials used to make them are way more common, though, so they're quite cheaper than jade tablets." Antchaser answered.

Alpha nodded. That was roughly what he'd been able to pry out of his… interviews with a few of the inmates. "And how are they made?" Alpha continued.

"Ehhhh…" Antchaser scratched his head. He honestly did not know. He'd never worked on something like that before. Maybe someone in the village would know, but not him.

Thankfully, Dr. Maria picked up the slack. "They're pretty simple to make, in all honesty. Spirit stones are ground into a fine powder and mixed with high-quality, refined clay and a few other binding reagents—typically the blood of a spirit beast, though the alchemists' own can suffice—to create 'spiritual clay.' Once prepared, this clay has several uses, but one of the most common are shaped tablets engraved with an array, forming a 'spiritual tablet.'"

Antchaser and Boarslayer both stared at Dr. Maria.

She raised a brow and looked between them. "What? [Tablets of Minor Regeneration] are one of my best sellers back in Halirosa. Though I feel like I must clarify, while Antchaser called them 'cheap,' that is only relativity speaking. As one of their primary components is spirit stones, the price for spiritual tablets can still be quite steep. Typically, they're seen as emergency items."

Again, Alpha nodded. "And what is the feasibility of manufacturing our own?"

Dr. Maria frowned and tapped her chin. "Hmmm, not very? Not right now, at least. While I don't doubt there's a spirit stone mine in a cavern, this size — there typically is — finding it is a whole other matter. We could search for years and never turn anything up. Not without the proper equipment. We could technically use beast core instead, but that's a waste and unsustainable."

"I see, I see," Alpha said as he led the group through a final set of doors.

The lab they entered was newly built and filled to the brim with various pipes and tanks. The centerpiece of the lab was a large glass tank filled with a swirling, dark brown liquid. It wasn't a 'dirty' brown, but a smooth, clean, almost metallic color, giving the impression of liquid bronze.

Antchaser would have found it kind of… pretty… if he had any idea what it was. It was certainly mesmerizing.

"What are we looking at, Mr. Alpha? This feeling… it almost feels like…" Boarslayer trailed off.

"I'm glad you asked! Come, come! Take a look!" Alpha said, a bit of excited giddiness creeping into his voice.

The three exchanged looks and approached the tank. Dozens of wide screens were attached to the upper portion of the tank, filled with charts and graphs that none of them could read. A strange machine sat at the bottom of the tank, a thin pipe connecting the two.

"Antchaser, if you would do the honor?" Alpha said, gesturing to the machine.

Ant Chaser shrugged and stepped forward. The control screen was similar to the type the goblins had been taught to use during the months of time-dilated training in the dungeon. Mostly to operate the machine that would clean and repair their new equipment. A copy had even been installed in the village, so he was familiar enough with the artifact to not stumble around trying to figure out what to do.

The machine clicked to life a moment later as a low rumble shook the room. An unseen gate opened and some of the bronze liquid poured from the tank into the machine. When the liquid finally reached the center portion of the machine, the large upper section of a previously unnoticed press slammed down, the high-pitched whine of steam escaping from between its two halves.

With the sound of grinding metal, the press lifted, and the front portion of the machine rolled back. A small tray was pushed forward, and at its center sat a small, coin-sized hexagonal disk. It was smooth and almost metallic brown in color, similar to that of the liquid, though without the swirling shades.

Antchaser reached down and picked it up, surprised at how light it felt.

He turned it around in his hand a few times, staring at the intricate array lines covering its surface. Antchaser might not have known much about arrays, but he knew enough to feel like something felt… odd... about the lines. It was almost like some of them were… incomplete. Several simply ran off the edges of the disk. As if whatever they connected to wasn't there.

The goblin turned to Alpha and raised the disk with a raised brow.

"Mr. Alpha, what' exactly is th—"

Yonk!

Before he could finish his sentence, Dr. Maria charged at him and snatched the disk from his hand.

With the fever of a madwoman, she turned the disk over in her hands, tracing the array lines and muttering to herself. After examining the disk from every angle, she held it between her fingers and channeled a small amount of Spirit Energy into it.

The array lines flashed to life, light pooling at the edges, while a larger light glowed brightly at the top of the disk. After a moment, the energy faded, and Dr. Maria's eyes widened. Again, she channeled energy into the disk, and again it lit up.

Again.

And again.

Only after the tenth time did something finally give, and the disk crumbled away into dust.

Dr. Maria stared at her dust-covered hand for a long moment, muttering to herself, until finally, she snapped around. Her bloodshot eyes nearly bulging out of her head, the manic woman pointed at Alpha and demanded, "YOU! What did you do?!"

Alpha only laughed.

"May I present the [Modular Utility Disks], or MUD, for short."
 
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It's amazing what you can do with basic materials and even modern industrial processes. Much less the future tech Alpha has.

The ironic thing is the suits and other items he gave the Goblins are far more advanced. However, they suffer from being so advanced the natives can't understand it. This meanwhile, is tech that's far ahead but understandable.
 
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