Vasily Mahanenko

Yuri Vinokuroff

The Selected

Book Two

A LitRPG Action Adventure Series

Published by Magic Dome Books

The Selected

Book # 2

Copyright © Vasily Mahanenko, Yuri Vinokuroff 2025

Cover Art © DrakArt Studio 2025

Cover designer: Vladimir Manyukhin

English translation copyright © Philip Parker 2025

Published by Magic Dome Books, 2025

ISBN: 978-80-7702-104-3

All Rights Reserved

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is entirely a work of fiction. Any correlation with real people or events is coincidental.

New and upcoming releases from

Magic Dome Books!

If you like our books and want to keep reading, download our FREE Publisher's Catalog, a must-read for any LitRPG fan which lists some of the finest works in the genre:

Tales of Wonder and Adventure: The Best of LitRPG, Fantasy and Sci-Fi (Publisher's Catalog)

Table of Contents:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

About The Authors

Chapter 1

External System Collectors’ Base, Planet of Vilion

VIP Lounge

THE HEAD OF THE STONE-COLD KILLERS Clan ran his eyes over the three strange collectors the System had brought in and gave his considered opinion:

“Good on them!” chuckled the short but very broad-shouldered man, sprawled in a plush armchair and slowly sipping a glass of wine.

“A Sherdan will always be a Sherdan,” said the elf head of the Godlike Clan, smiling contemptuously. “Swallowing insults is just what you do, isn’t it, Crab?”

“Talking of swallowing,” said the Sherdan amiably, “I’m thinking of swallowing up a couple more of your mines. You must have plenty of resources to spare if you can afford to be such a dick, Orytil.”

“What?!” The elf’s pale skin turned bright red, and his hand reached for the sword that was hanging from his waist.

“Like a pair of little boys,” said a deep, velvety voice. Mirelle, the head of the Celestial Clan, was a felineer, a species that was extremely rare on Vilion. Unlike other worlds, Mirelle’s home planet had learned how to fight back against the System. Kidnappings happened very rarely if they happened at all. Mirelle had been unlucky. Fifty years ago, a massed attack had resulted in a thousand felineers being sent out to subdue the vast expanses of the System.

One phrase from Mirelle was enough to subdue Orytil. He shot a glance of pure hatred at Crab but made no further effort to grab his weapon. Here on the collectors’ base, that could only lead to one thing — immediate banishment back to Vilion.

“Actually, Crab’s right. Those three really did do well,” said the fourth attendant at the meeting. Roman, the head of the Best of the Best Clan, had only been in charge for three years. In comparison to the other three clan leaders, he really was just a kid, but that didn’t make him any less dangerous. On the contrary, it demonstrated his extraordinary intelligence and ability to take advantage of any situation. In short order, he’d gone from applicant to ordinary member of the clan to deputy leader. When it came time for the clan to head on to a second-level world, Roman took his place. The Best of the Best was the smallest of the four great clans, but in terms of strength it came in a close second behind the Celestial Clan.

“How about two thousand silirium for more information?” suggested Mirelle. The head of the Celestial Clan knew full well that Roman had an exceptional mind that could pick up on details nobody else would pay attention to. And he wasn’t going to share information for free.

In truth, Mirelle would’ve had no interest whatsoever in a group of newcomers if it weren’t for a few awkward facts. The first was that she owed these guys a key to a Level 2 Dungeon. The idiot who had sent the newbs to unexplored lands had already been dealt with. Nobody was going to kill him, but that pathetic little worm would spend the rest of his miserable life gathering ore in the mines.

The second was the human’s reaction. Mirelle was proud of her race and couldn’t permit anyone to react to her like that. The collector’s allergy had infuriated the felineer, making her want to crush him into the ground — simply because he’d dared to sneeze in her direction.

Third was the druid-class scalable item. Mirelle had spent five thousand units of silirium to get information about it from the external System — items of that rank had no right to exist on a starter world. However, the head of the Selected had obtained one of these impossible items and she, a druid in one of her classes, wanted to get her hands on it.

“Two thousand?” Roman looked at Mirelle incredulously. “Are you proposing that I share my observations of the group that’s holding the item you need for two thousand? I always thought Mirelle of the Celestial Clan was a reasonable adversary.”

“What’s your price?” asked the felineer, tight-lipped.

“Five thousand silirium from each of you who wants information,” said Roman, looking around at the company. “Anyone who doesn’t want to pay can get back to their own affairs. I’m not insisting.”

“I’m in,” said Crab, making himself comfortable and holding out his empty glass. As if by magic, it was refilled with wine. The service in the VIP Lounge was excellent.

“That group is of no interest to me, but I am curious to hear Roman’s observations. I should like to compare them with my own,” said Orytil pompously, demonstratively not looking in Crab’s direction.

“Mirelle?” asked Roman, turning to the cat woman. She just nodded, confirming that she was ready to pay in full. The System immediately began to generate quests, but nobody paid any attention to them. At this level, everything was decided with words, and reputation was more important than any quest.

“Alright then, let’s take a look at this curious trio. This year, the Celestial Clan is in charge of newcomers. Mirelle, can you tell us which intake these three outcasts came in?”

“That information will cost you two thousand silirium,” said the felineer nonchalantly, but Roman just smiled.

“I’ll remember the value you put on information, Mirelle. As it happens, I already have an answer to my own question: this group that calls itself the Selected was formed and arrived on Vilion three days ago. There were three collectors missing from the sixth intake.”

“Impossible!” barked Orytil.

“Good on them!” repeated Crab.

“We will find your spies,” said Mirelle, getting a nasty shock. Representatives of the Best of the Best had wormed their way into her city and been able to count the number of collectors assigned to her clan. Roman just nodded and continued:

“Collectors who’ve only been around for three days get the right to visit the VIP Lounge. While you were having a dick-measuring contest, I found out what they’re doing here — they climbed to the top of the independent group ratings. In three days.”

“Can you stop beating around the bush?” snapped Mirelle impatiently. “Just facts and conclusions — I’m not paying for your idle musings.”

“Alright, let’s stick to the facts. All three of them are Level 2, although they’ve only been on Vilion for three days. The group’s gear glows green, blue, and even purple. The group has gotten to the top of the ratings. The group’s leader received a scalable item. My admittedly meager experience of life on Vilion tells me that this gang didn’t just complete a Dungeon, they discovered a stationary Dungeon and managed to take control of it. I suspect it’s only a Level 2 dungeon, but with a load of extra features, some of which they’ve managed to find.”

“You can’t receive an epic item at Level 2,” said Orytil.

“No, you can’t. He didn’t receive it, he created it.”

“An enhancement rune?” asked Mirelle, frowning. “That sounds even more unbelievable than the fact that the Selected have a human and an elf who are both allergic to leaders of the great clans. I’d never believe that if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

“As I say, good on them!” chuckled Crab, getting the System to fill his wine glass once again.

“Their armor is gnomish,” said Roman, continuing to share his observations, “which means the north and the south are out. Either the east or the west of the unexplored lands. I say east, because the west is already about fifty percent explored. That’s my answer to your question of where to look for them, Mirelle. You’re not going to miss the chance to get your hands on a druid scalable item, are you?”

The cat woman just nodded, contemplating her options.

“Now to the main point. It’s been three days since the group appeared on Vilion, but the starter System is still escorting its wards around. Everybody gets twenty-four hours to adapt, but this weird trio have already been gifted seventy-two. The System is clearly enjoying her success — she’s been assigned so many resources, it’s like she’s drunk. That’s what interests me. I don’t understand why this has happened or what makes the Selected important. Is it something special for outcasts? Or something new that we haven’t heard about yet? Next year, my clan will be responsible for newcomers, and I’ll definitely test this out by forming twenty or thirty groups of outcasts. I don’t care about the expense, what I’m interested in is the logic behind it. I guess that’s everything. It’d be good to talk to the three of them and arrange a meeting, but we can’t. They won’t let us in the bathroom, we can’t leave a note or any sort of item, and in twenty minutes we’ll be kicked off the base. It’s safe to say we missed our chance to chat here, so now it’ll only be on Vilion.”

“Are you sure about the east?” asked Mirelle intently. She didn’t like the news that some unknown group had taken control of a stationary Dungeon — there were only about twenty of them in total on Vilion.

“About seventy percent sure. You are going to look for them, aren’t you?”

“They’ve got my item. I want it before I leave Vilion.”

* * *

What can I say, the System was right. The sumptuous baths, aromatic oils, relaxing massage, and — most importantly — a very passionate Lyra had combined to give me an unforgettable experience. When we came back to the public area, it was already empty. Apparently, the heads of the great clans had been knocked flat by just how awesome we were, and the System had teleported their stupefied bodies back to the big world outside. Well, at least I could dream.

“Had a good rest?” asked the cute translucent girl with Grumbler’s voice, leading us to a soft couch and filling the table in front of it with a vast profusion of different delicacies that were guaranteed to delight any species, human, elf, or char-ra. Talking of species, if you didn’t count her ears, then Lyra was physiologically no different to a human. There were no tails or weird body parts in places where they definitely shouldn’t be. She was a completely normal woman, albeit so passionate that I had my work cut out to keep up with her and uphold the honor of Earth men. Judging by the elf girl's contented face, I’d done my job. On the other hand, it was just as likely that Lyra’s happiness was due to her manicure, which had taken nearly an hour. That was another service that the VIP Lounge offered.

“Excellent!” I said to the whole group. “How much longer do we get to relax here?”

“You still have ninety minutes,” said Grumbler, making Lyra pout. The elf girl liked it here. It was like she was back home again — as a model, she’d been used to this level of luxury.

“In that case, leave us in peace,” I said, waving Grumbler away. I didn’t want to waste a second on dumb discussions when there was so much delicious food to sample.

“I’d like to leave you in peace, but we’ve got some problems,” said Grumbler awkwardly. “Basically… While you were relaxing, there was a meeting between the internal and external System, and it was decided that the outcast feature would be deleted.”

“So? What’s that got to do with us?”

“As the feature’s been deleted, all the bonuses that you got in conjunction with it will be lost. When you return to Vilion, you’ll be transferred to the nearest city…”

“Stop!” I shouted, jumping to my feet. “No way are we being transferred to any city. We have a quest to upgrade our Dungeon. We need to find the waystone.”

“I don’t have the authority to change the decision,” said Grumbler, but for some reason she couldn’t look us in the eye. She was lying and she didn’t know how to hide it.

“Grumbler, stop with the bullshit! We agreed we were going to work together. We agreed we’re on the same team. We don’t want to leave the Dungeon!”

“You don’t understand,” wailed the part of the System, no less emotionally, “if you don’t transfer to a city then… then that show-off has commanded that I be assigned to supervise you!”

“Commanded?” I asked in surprise. “So, the internal System can command the external one?”

“Well,” said Grumbler awkwardly, realizing she’d said too much. Still, she couldn’t back off now. “Yes, it’s her prerogative. We depend on the silirium that’s collected on worlds of different levels. On every planet that we discover, there’s an internal System. It’s probably the same one for all planets, but we can’t prove that. We can’t overcome the show-off. Despite all our resources and capabilities, when it comes to her, we’re like little kids. So, we have to negotiate and agree to her demands — agree to the fact that she can spin logic any way she wants to. I don’t want to spend a whole year hanging around with you guys.”

“Why not?” asked Lyra. “Are we really so repellent to you?”

“Because you won’t even be able to see me! They’ll take my voice, my vision, and my touch away. I’ll lose all my resources! All I’ll be able to do is monitor and report. All that power just to observe and analyze in silence. It’s not fair!”

Grumbler was part of the System, a fragment of low-rent code with so many bugs that it needed rewriting from scratch. However, emotionally she was more like a living creature than a computer program. This complicated things and impelled you to help her, even though I really didn’t want to do that. Nonetheless, I had to put out some feelers:

“You mean, we can’t use you at all?”

“Not in the normal way, no. My access to the database has already been limited and the volume of my resources reduced. They’ve cut me, they’ve caged me, they’ve taken everything… And it’s all because of you! Didn’t I say you should get on and die? I even said ‘please’! But oh no, you had to go try and survive! Then they encouraged me to help you. So I did, and now look where it’s got me!”

“But there is a not normal way, right?” I asked, ignoring Grumbler’s emotional outburst.

“There is, but you won’t like it!” she answered a little too quickly.

“Grumbler!” I said threateningly.

“Don’t you start getting at me too! Yes, there’s a way. It’s not the nicest, but it’s better than being a silent, invisible observer. I can become your inventory. You won’t have to lug around the items that you find on Vilion, you’ll be able to store them in me, and with no limit on weight or volume either. But don’t get all excited like you usually do. For me to become your inventory, you’ll have to do something impossible, a real feat! That show-off that controls Vilion has to acknowledge your greatness and grant you the right to an inventory before you reach Level 9. Before I was cut off from the database, I managed to check — it’s never happened before, but it is possible.”

“So, if we refuse to be transferred to a city, you’ll disappear for a while, then come back when we’ve done something incredible, right?”

“Yes, but it’s impossible! Even conquering your dungeon and getting to the VIP Lounge don’t count as a feat like that. It has to be something genuinely incredible, like completing the Pyramid of Sharaja, for example.”

“Which you’ve never told us anything about,” I reminded her.

“It’s one of three Level 11 Dungeons. A place where even Level 11 collectors find it hard to survive. There are fifteen floors, and the Dungeon Master is Level 13. It’s the perfect place to go and die. In the fifty years that Vilion has existed, nobody has ever completed a Level 11 Dungeon. The great clans have organized coordinated raids three times, but never got further than the sixth floor, despite all the resources and training they put into it. So, you don’t have a chance. My advice is that you stop messing around and go to the city. The Best of the Best clan have removed the price on your head, so go to their place.”

“What about the other clans?”

“They’ve increased it. And the leaders have announced where to look for you. They got it right, too. The Pyramid of Sharaja is to the east of the explored lands, and the updated bounty announcement said that you must be in the east.”

“No, Grumbler, we’re not going to the city,” I said, looking at Gor and Lyra. They nodded. “You’ll have to be our observer for a while. Can we at least use you as a notebook and map?”

“You can,” she said with a sigh, then suddenly changed. It was like she’d become cleaner. “That’s it. All information I had from the database has been completely erased. Ask me questions if you want, you won’t get any answers. When you get back to Vilion, you won’t be able to speak to me. Map, notebook, data store and, in the distant and unrealistic future, item inventory — that’s now my bitter fate… You’ll be returned to Vilion when your time’s up. I’m off.”

With that, the translucent girl disappeared.

“I even feel sorry for her,” said Lyra. “Max, maybe we should set her free?”

“And head to a city?” I asked incredulously. “Where we’ll be killed before we can take a step, right?”

“But she said the Best of the Best…”

I interrupted her: “That’s a cunning move, removing the price on our heads. They think it’ll make us go to their city. Then they’ll crush us like flies. Is that what you want?”

“No!” Lyra shook her head.

Gor puffed out his chest: “We should look our enemies in the face! That’s what real warriors do!”

“And that’s what we’ll do too,” I assured him. “Once we get to Level 10, we’ll head straight off to find them. I see you’ve both already forgotten the struggle we had with a simple Level 4 beetle. If it weren’t for that alchemy lab, we’d never have beaten it. In this world, everything comes down to leveling up skills and items. We don’t have high levels of either yet. Well, we do have items, but we don’t have the skills to use them properly. So, we’re not going anywhere near any city yet. First, we finish with our dungeon, get it up to Level 3 or even Level 4, then we’ll welcome our guests. System, send us back! We’ve rested long enough!”

The space around us flickered, and a few seconds later we found ourselves next to the integration stone of our dungeon. The four blue items that Lyra had taken from the beetle were lying on the ground nearby. We hadn’t been allowed to take them out of this world. I moved to grab them but stopped. The local System had noticed we were back:

In accordance with the changes agreed, you receive extra skill points and full access to all items.

“Stay right where you are!” I said, before Lyra and Gor had time to do anything. “Nobody picks anything until we’ve agreed on it. Lyra, that’s mostly directed at you.”

“Meow?” Pets weren’t allowed on the base, but Little Bald was back with us now.

“You wait too,” I told him. Settling down on the ground, I opened the list of available abilities. After a minute of reading, I gave a loud groan. Of course, the System just had to put a spanner in the works! We now got three skill points for each level, carefully apportioned one for each of our two classes and one for our class combo bonus. You couldn’t just spend all three on one class and turn yourself into a fearsome killer. Everything had to be nice and even, goddammit! Of course, the other collectors weren’t limited by such stupid rules. They could spend their points however they wanted to, piling them all up on one skill if they felt like it.

The result was that I had one new druid ability, Lyra’s Aura of Sanctification was enhanced, and Gor’s breakdown skill was leveled up. Was that really worth arguing with the System for? Yes, of course it was. Any bonus whatsoever, however dumb it looked at first glance, still made us stronger. Didn’t it?

“Wow!” I gasped when Lyra activated her updated aura. The golden cupola looked a lot thicker now, and the influence of the Dungeon was reduced to nothing. Literally nothing — I checked the XP bar that we needed to fill to reach Level 3, and with Lyra’s new aura it didn’t progress at all. The healing that the Level 2 Aura of Sanctification provided completely canceled out the influence of the auras of Vilion on our poorly adapted bodies. What did that mean? That’s right, it meant we could stroll right into a Level 3 Dungeon! The aura there would be much more dangerous, but with Lyra’s help we wouldn’t have to suffer. Excellent!

There was no way of checking out Gor’s bonus straight away — we’d have to wait until we found some item. Still, I felt pretty sure we’d be happy with the way the breakdown skill had changed too. As for me, I’d made my choice long ago. The beginner abilities for druids weren’t all that impressive, but after I’d seen what the common vine could do once it reached Level 9, I no longer had any doubts about what to level up.

Smothering Vine: It didn’t make much sense, as Lyra’s aura already slowed enemies down more effectively, but I had no doubt that at future levels other useful properties would be added to the slowdown. The word “smothering” was just too attractive. No doubt there’d be poison of some sort further down the line. The main thing was to live long enough to find out.

“Funny,” I snorted when we got around to checking out the items from the Dungeon Master. The metal beetle hadn’t let us down — it had given up a full four items, but I smiled when I saw what they actually were. Four pairs of pants — even Little Bald got some! It was easy to see who each pair was for — the baggy pantaloons were for Gor, the little waist binding was for Lyra, the normal pants were for me, and that weird contraption was for Little Bald. They all had the same name — Excellent Gnome Pants — and, rather more importantly, each had three available properties. Already available! Immediately, I looked over each item I had on me, including my crossbow. Yes! The local System hadn’t lied, and now I could choose a new property for each item.

Things were coming together! Did we need to perform an incredible feat to get Grumbler back? Well, alright then! I looked at my group and smiled:

“Guys, this is going to take a while. It’s time to turn ourselves into terminators!”

Chapter 2

“WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING TO DO?” Aelyria asked me warily.

The dissatisfaction she felt about transferring back from the spa heaven of the VIP Lounge to these miserable caves was written clearly across the elf girl’s face, and she wasn’t trying to hide it. But her brains were still working — she could tell there was a catch in what I was saying and she was trying to work out what it was.

“It’s all very simple,” I said with a broad grin. “This time, no nonsense. We’re now going to work out a long-term strategy to get this world to bend down before the noble Selected.”

“Bend down?” asked Lyra, looking at me a little strangely.

“Yeah,” I said, “we don’t want to keep striving all the time. Striving, my friends,” I held up my finger to underline the importance of what I was saying, “striving is something true heroes do for one purpose only. Do you know what it is?”

“I can guess,” said Lyra, giggling suddenly and unexpectedly winking at me.

Gor looked perplexed and said nothing, just shaking his head. Lyra felt she hadn’t gone far enough. She giggled stupidly and leaned over to whisper in my ear:

“Are we going to have sex again?”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” I said in exasperation, then jumped back when I saw her big green eyes were filling with tears, her lips twisting in rage, and her shield coming up to chest level. I felt a twinge in my guts. Right before my eyes, our berserker was preparing to activate the skill called Shield Strike, and by the look of it I was going to be the target because of my poor way with words.

“Alright, alright, alright!” I shouted, raising my hands in the air. “I didn’t mean ‘bend over’ like that, I meant we would dominate, destroy, level up!”

I cried out the words while staring at Lyra’s expression, which gradually turned more thoughtful.

“I like this idea of ‘bending over’,” said Gor with a broad grin. “Gor is ready to make them bend over!” He clenched and unclenched his enormous fists as he spoke.

“So, you did like having sex with me?” Lyra asked, still frowning.

I rolled my eyes.

“Keeping this conversation on track is like herding cats. No offense, Little Bald,” I said, glancing at the dracat on my shoulder. I went over to Lyra and warily hugged her: “Of course I did, baby, of course I did. And we’ll definitely do it again. But let’s find a better place and a better time, okay?”

I should mention that I really didn’t have to pretend here. Sex with the elf girl was the best sex I’d had in this world, and by ‘this world’ I don’t mean Vilion, I mean in my whole life. Whatever else you could say about Lyra, when it came to the art of love, she had no equals. And even at that moment, when I was giving her a friendly hug, I was more than ready to repeat the experience. I just thought Gor might not like it. And we had other things to do.

I decided to stop joking around and try a more earnest approach.

“It’s just that we’re going to unlock all the properties of our gear now, and they’re going to really help us get the world to bend down before us.”

“That sounds good,” said Lyra, smiling happily. But, to my surprise, Gor had stopped smiling and was now the one looking at me warily.

“Well, go on, tell me what’s up,” I said to the big man.

“Commander, I’m really sorry,” he said. “I know it’s a soldier’s duty to follow orders, and a commander’s duty to give orders.”

“Has the dracat got your tongue?” I said, exasperated, and heard Little Bald meow next to my ear — the idea of Gor’s tongue clearly didn’t appeal to him. “If you’ve got something to say, then spit it out.”

“Alright,” said Gor and coughed. But he still hesitated. It was odd to watch the mighty char-ra stammering and blushing like a schoolkid on a first date. “Basically, Commander, talking about strategy and tactics… I wanted to say that we don’t have enough experience.”

“What do you mean, not enough?” I said, surprised. “We’re all up to Level 2, we got one over on the System, we subdued the Dungeon. I mean…” Then I stopped, realizing what the big man was talking about.

“Ah, oh, right… Well, go on then,” I said to him, wanting to hear him spell out my suppositions.

“Well, we’ve only seen caves and we’ve only seen gnomes. Very soon, if I understand correctly, we’re going to encounter goblins. That’s a different kind of enemy. And the place is going to be different. And we don’t know how to fight against them. We can unlock all these things, but they’ll only be good for here and now, not for later.”

“Great,” I said, a little embarrassed, “just great.”

Seeing Gor’s discomfort, I quickly added:

“No, Gor, I’m not being sarcastic. What you said really is great. I think we’re coming together as a really good team. I guess I underestimated your, erm…” I wanted to say “intelligence”, but then I remembered that I was trying to be a little less free with my language, so I changed my mind. “Your desire to be useful. Keep it up, soldier!”

“Commander,” said the big man, standing at attention, “I’m ready to do all I can for the good of the Selected.”

“Great, you do that,” I said, looking at our loot. “Alright, this doesn’t take long, but I think we’re better off unlocking properties when we need them. It’s a shame that Grumbler has gone back to being just a mute lump of code and can’t tell us anything.”

“Can I at least have a go at the hairclip? I mean, activate its properties.” Lyra looked at me. “Come on, please, just one.”

“What do you need more beauty for? You’re already breathtakingly gorgeous,” I said honestly, causing her to blush lightly.

“You know how to talk to women, Max,” she said. “But no, I’m not talking about beauty. I wanted to look for some kind of skill enhancement. Something tells me my manicure is going to be in peril very soon. I really don’t want that, but it’s not that important. As far as I can tell, the staff in the VIP Lounge can fix anything. However, I don’t want to lose my fingers along with my nails. So yes, I’d like to think of some way to make myself more effective than just a simple healer.”

I said nothing for a few seconds, scratching my head thoughtfully. Something was going on that I didn’t fully understand. Gor and Lyra were saying things that were completely unexpected. What was the cause? The System? Our level? Or was it just the things that had happened to us that had shaken us up and made us think more seriously about survival? I had no answer, so I just nodded:

“Go for it.”

“Alright, Max, thanks,” said Lyra seriously. “I’ll read them out loud anyway, just in case you’ve got anything to add.”

I was surprised again, but I didn’t show it. I just kept nodding. Lyra began to read. The first property or, to be more exact, one of the three options, was exactly what we needed. It was simply called“Enhancement of Collector’s Skills”. As always, there were no figures or percentages. However, as far as I could tell, there was no messing us around either. Or, if there was, it was out in the open. If it said skills would be enhanced, that meant they would be enhanced.

I immediately had the idea of thinking up some super skill and leveling it up with items. Then I could max it out while lounging around drinking mojitos. True, I didn’t have anywhere to lounge or make mojitos, but the idea sounded good. As a plan for the future, of course.

While I was thinking about my glorious future, Lyra read out the second set of options. Here I found myself lost for words. Three times, Lyra read, “Increased Attractiveness”. Yes, all three options were the same. It was a choice that was no choice.

“I think I can hear one System laughing far in the distance,” I said dreamily.

Gor pricked up his ears.

“I don’t hear that.”

“Hey, it was a joke!” I said, waving my hand dismissively.

“So, what should I choose, Max?” asked Lyra, looking at me intently.

I looked at her concerned eyes and suppressed a smile. No, no, this was the same Lyra sitting in front of me, beautiful in body and soul, and in mind — well, just fine.

“What are you thinking of choosing?” I asked, cocking my head.

“Increased Attractiveness,” answered Lyra seriously.

“But which one? The first, the second, or the third?”

Lyra kept frowning, then looked at me sharply and snarled:

“Are you an idiot? They’re all the same!”

I couldn’t contain my laughter any longer:

“Finally, you got it!”

“So, you’ve been making fun of me?” frowned Lyra. “Do you know girls don’t like it when you make fun of them? And they’ve got a powerful deterrent — refusing to have sex.”

“That’s a bit cruel,” mumbled Gor.

“I agree,” I said. “Alright, Lyra, I promise not to make fun of you. Choose Increased Attractiveness.”

Lyra nodded, looked at the hairclip, looked at me, and asked earnestly:

“But which one should I choose? The first, the second, or the third?”

No, I didn’t facepalm myself to death. I didn’t even laugh. As a result of all this, Lyra got a new item:

Beautiful Jade Hairclip

Rank: Uncommon

Additional property: Enhancement of Collector’s Skills

Additional property: Increased Attractiveness

Basically, Lyra became even more gorgeous, and I got to wondering if we couldn’t just charm the goblins too. But something told me the same trick wasn’t going to work twice.

Next, I had the sensible thought that, if we’d already unlocked one of Lyra’s items, then we could definitely unlock one each for me and Gor. Tactics were tactics, and strategy was strategy, but there were also universal rules and needs that must be fulfilled.

In the end, we unlocked the properties for Gor’s engineer’s bag.

Skilled Novice Engineer’s Tool Bag

Rank: Uncommon

Additional property: Enhancement of Collector’s Skills

Additional property: Accelerated Crafting and Repairs

That “Enhancement of Collector’s Skills” was a good property and apparently universal. The second property was pretty useful too — sooner or later, Gor would start crafting. He couldn’t go on disarming traps with his thick skull. Yes, it would’ve made more sense to improve his awareness and ability to find stashes and traps, but the bag didn’t offer that option. I got the sense that there was some kind of logic to the System’s actions, and you couldn’t just get exactly what you wanted. Except for Lyra and her attractiveness, apparently…

I decided to play my trump card and unlock the properties of my best item — the crossbow. In part, this was because I didn’t really understand what other properties I might need. With Gor and Lyra, it was obvious, but in my case it was a problem. Okay, so as a hunter I wanted to shoot further and kill more. But as a druid, I had issues — I didn’t know anything about the class, and now there was nobody to ask.

My incredible find from the gnome cemetery had turned out to be a dud.

Stone Vine Amulet

Scalable item

Requirements for use: Druid class

Belongs to: Collector Max (527-20887)

Status: Inactive

That’s the way the cookie crumbles. The “inactive” status presumably meant that it could be activated. It didn’t take a genius to see that. The question was, how? How the hell was I supposed to do that? I’d asked the System but hadn’t gotten an answer. I’d have to work it out for myself. Yet again…

Anyway, I sorted out my crossbow. Well, to be exact, the System sorted it out and I chose from the menu I was offered. If you ask me, it turned out alright.

The first property gave me the option to choose my ammo — fire, ice, or acid. We already had fire from Little Bald, and there was more than enough acid in the dungeon, but ice sounded great to me. What’s more, the System promised that, if the target wasn’t killed by a direct hit, it would be slightly frozen and therefore slowed down. That was an invaluable skill for a shooter, giving them time to fire two or three more shots while the poor frozen enemy was still struggling to reach them.

The second property was even easier to choose. There was a useless “Recoil Reduction” option — apparently the System thought I had a shotgun or something. Bad system! Bad, bad system! The second was a dubious “Increased Chance of Detection”, but the third — “Partial Auto-aim” — appeared to be exactly what someone who was all thumbs like me needed.

The third choice was another one where there wasn’t actually a choice at all — two were obvious jokes from the System that don’t even bear repeating. The third, however, was interesting. It also illustrated another trick of the System. It was called “Improved Partial Auto-aim” and it said in the description that the crossbow bolt wouldn’t just steer itself into the enemy’s body, but also find their weakest spots. I’ll take two of those!

“That’s a good bit of work I’ve done today,” I chuckled, looking over my “awoken” crossbow.

Stone-Cold Killer’s Ice Crossbow

Rank: Epic

Projectile speed is doubled

Additional property: Ice Shot

Additional property: Partial Auto-aim

Additional property: Improved Partial Auto-aim

Oh, wait, there was Little Bald too. He had no use for tactics, but he did have cool pants now. The dracat hissed and spit when I put them on him. But he calmed down when I told him how stylish he looked, and he was even happier once he found a big puddle he could use as a mirror to admire himself in. At least he was pleased.

With the dracat, there was no sense in putting off unlocking the properties of his pants, and was fully prepared to do just that, but we had a problem. I’d forgotten that the dracat couldn’t speak. Furthermore, it was soon clear he wouldn’t have discussed anything with me even if he could. Maybe he was angry because I’d forced him to put the pants on. In any case, there was a brief blue flash in front of my eyes, and his pants suddenly became more interesting:

Dracat Pants

Rank: Rare

Additional property: Increased agility

Additional property: Insulated

Additional property: Beautiful

“Wait, are you two conspiring against me?” I asked in despair, looking first at Lyra and then at the dracat, who’d already rushed back to admire his beauty in the puddle. His insulated beauty. Only one of that useless cat’s choices — the increased agility — was even slightly appropriate to my plans, and even then, it was more for Little Bald’s protection. It wasn’t like he rushed forward in battle as it was — he preferred hiding behind my back. Angrily, I hissed, “You little beast!”

“Meow?” said Little Bald innocently, apparently not understanding why I was mad.

“They’re so pretty!” said Lyra predictably, admiring the dracat’s new pants.

I just sighed heavily and made a mental note that I’d need to think up something for the dracat in the future too, otherwise he’d ruin everything I gave him. My hope had been to increase the power of our mobile artillery, not that nonsense.

“Alright, guys,” I said, clapping loudly. “We still have one more item of business. We need to check the stashes of that dead kleptomaniac gnome matriarch before we’re too late. Let’s get to the third floor!”

Quickly and, for obvious reasons, avoiding the Dungeon’s management, we made our way up. The ordinary gnomes that we came across all greeted us with a cheerful “goo” and stared at Lyra adoringly. I remembered my language tablet and once again wondered what I should do with it. In theory, I had Martha and Carl, who could always serve as translators if I needed anything from the ordinary gnomes.

Just as I was thinking that, a couple of gnome warriors strolled merrily past, and I noticed that they looked pretty cool. We’d only seen them when they were training and half-naked, but now they looked completely different. I checked the System’s notification:

Gnome Veteran, Level 3

Status: Ally (temporarily inactive)

Huh, so they had a status now. And I understood why they had that name. Chainmail armor, helmets, full-length shields, and short, thick spears — that’s how the veterans were equipped. The question was, where had they come from and where had they got all that gear? I had no answer. And I didn’t need one. Furthermore, “temporarily inactive” suggested that we still had work to do before they were any use to us.

I suddenly had a wonderful idea — an army of gnomes. My personal army. It sounded awesome, so now I just had to work out how to make it a reality. And if I could, then the gnome language would be a necessity. But it wasn’t yet.

We reached the room where we’d killed the matriarch and my heart missed a beat. Everything had been tidied up. The matriarch’s body was gone, as was all the blood. Everything had been cleaned and washed down.

“Gor, get looking!” I barked and joined the search myself.

But all that awaited us was the disappointment of empty stashes.

“What exactly are you doing here?” came a surprised voice from the passage.

At that moment, I was bent over and running my hand around an empty niche in the hope of finding at least something that those cunning gnomes had missed. I stood up, brushed myself off, and looked at Carl none too kindly.

“Carl, I don’t understand. Did you take everything from here? It was us who beat that fat cow… I mean, your matriarch. The loot’s ours by right.”

Carl looked at me with his small but very honest eyes, which showed his genuine bewilderment.

“But it was all ours. We just took it back. It’s all in our treasury.”

I filled my lungs with air in preparation to release a long tirade of obscenities, but then I understood exactly what he was saying. Letting out the air like a punctured tire, I asked as politely as possible:

“So, how do we get to your treasury?”

“Well, you can’t,” said Carl, turning up his broad palms. “It’s our treasury.”

“But this is our Dungeon,” I said, getting angry.

“The Dungeon’s yours, yes,” nodded Carl amicably, “but the tribe isn’t yet. Get the waystone back and restore our name, then we’ll acknowledge you as our sovereigns.”

I growled and rolled my eyes. The notification “New Hope Quest Status” flashed before them.

New Hope Quest

Find the waystone to restore the name to the tribe of gnomes.

Reward: The gnomes will acknowledge you as their sovereign. The benefits of this status are your ability to use all the property of the tribe, both in terms of resources and manpower.

“Stop!!!” I suddenly had a very worrying thought as I read the description. “What about the silirium? The silirium you guys are mining? Is that ours?”

“Ahem,” coughed Carl, a little embarrassed, “I’m afraid it’s not. As you can see, we need resources to restore this place. Lots of resources.”

“For fuck’s sake!” I sighed.

All my plans had gone to pieces. I thought again of my shattered dreams — to wait while the miners got us the amount of silirium we needed, then head to town to get information and maybe do a little shopping. To finally relax! Because, along with the bath and the massage, I’d like a little time to kick back and think about our situation. Then, once I’d got my head on straight, I’d be ready to come back and sort out all the problems here.

Fat chance, Max! Time to get back to battle, with no preparation, no supplies, and no support. Very well, then…

“Alright, Carl,” I said, breathing deeply to calm myself, “Take us to Martha. Let’s have a meeting. You can tell us where to find the stone and a bit more about these goblins.”

Chapter 3

MARTHA WAS NERVOUS. No, that’s not right. Martha was REALLY nervous, and I just couldn’t understand why. She was huffing, grunting, rolling her eyes, and constantly looking around.

The matriarch now had her own throne room and a large, beautiful throne carved from stone. It looked hard to sit on, but with her ass she could probably manage without cushions.

It was hard to get the conversation going. My efforts to understand why the hell they had taken our loot ran into a wall of incomprehension and straight-up disregard. What’s more, the matriarch decided to berate us for the state of the alchemy laboratory, the lack of fuel in the reactor, and the fact that we’d shamelessly set fire to their entire stock of stone oil.

For about a minute, I just listened to this nonsense gawping, then — unexpectedly even for myself — I started shouting:

“Have you gone completely out of your little gnome mind?! It’s us that saved your fat ass, and now you want to leave us a bad review and speak to our manager? Maybe we should just fill in the exits from this goddamn dungeon and give you some time to reflect on your behavior, eh?”

Strangely enough, my ranting brought results. As my old man used to say, “Kid, get some authority in your voice as soon as you can, and all the ladies will be yours.” It was dubious advice at best, and the result right now was no less dubious.

Martha suddenly burst into tears. It was… awkward. The huge female creature sobbed, wrung her hands, and smeared her tears across her dirty cheeks. Even stranger was the behavior of the other gnomes. Carl and all the rest of them, including the veterans, began to back away, sidling along the walls and suddenly vanishing from the room.

“I guess we’ll, erm, wait outside too,” said Gor with embarrassment. He grabbed Little Bald from my shoulders, took Lyra by the hand, and literally dragged her out of the room, although she was watching the whole scene with interest.

When the door slammed behind her, I took a deep breath. I hate it when women cry. Of course, my ex had helped me develop an immunity to that kind of thing — it was her go-to way of winning any argument for so long, I began to wise up — but I still found it difficult to bear.

“Hey, come on, don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying!” sobbed Martha even more hysterically.

“What the hell is this? Come on, stop it!”

“I’M NOT CRY-Y-YING!!!” That howl very nearly burst my eardrums. It was time to try something else.

“Shut your mouth right now, or I’ll find another matriarch and replace you!”

It worked. Martha stopped sobbing in an instant and looked at me warily,

“Where would you find one? There aren’t any more of us, are there?”

“I’ll find one if I have to!” I said, frowning.

“Wa-a-a…” Martha was about to start again, but I had the initiative.

“But if you stop sobbing, then I won’t have to look for a new one.”

Martha spluttered a couple of times, but then looked at me suspiciously again:

“You’re going to replace me with that pointy-eared tramp, are you?”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“You know what I’m talking about!” The matriarch’s tears instantly dried on her face and she jumped to her feet, bracing her fat hips with her massive fists. “Do you think I haven’t noticed how my subjects look at that white-haired bitch! Since when are gnomes supposed to go all goggle-eyed over an elf girl?”

So, that was it — just a simple case of jealousy! I smiled cunningly:

“We-e-ell, maybe that’s not such a bad idea, now you mention it. Aelyria is loyal to me, and she isn’t going to start making up excuses to snatch all my loot.”

“Look, I just can’t give you what we found!” said the matriarch, turning up her palms. “Everything’s in the treasury already, counted, catalogued and stacked away. It’s not for my benefit, it’s for the tribe — the tribe which may be yours one day.”

Checkmate! Everyone around was getting infected with the smarts somehow. But I wasn’t planning to give up just yet.

“We-e-ell, I don’t know about that…” I did my best to sound thoughtful and uncertain.

“Oh, I know!” The matriarch had an idea. She began to rummage through her huge pockets. First, she pulled out a dead rat, then a lump of wood, then a rusty spring. “No, that’s not it, that’s not it,” she mumbled under her breath. “There it is! Here, take this. I won’t be needing it anymore. It was a gift for that dead bitch from Carl. We have no use for it now.”

“Hmm,” I looked at the amulet and smiled. “Now, that’s more like it!”

Attention Amulet

Rank: Rare

Additional property: Increased attention

Additional property: Greatly increased attention

Additional property: Massively increased attention

That was how to level up an item properly — we’d never miss another stash now.

“Goo…” I hummed happily.

“A dance? Here? Well, I don’t know about that…” said Martha in surprise. Then she straightened her dirty dress and smiled coyly. “Well, alright, while Carl’s not looking.”

“Stop right there!” I said, trying not to shout as Martha came towards me with her arms out. “No dancing! So, you won’t be letting us into the treasury?”

“Not until the tribe has a name,” she answered, clearly displeased, and flopped down onto her throne. “You have to understand, collector, that’s just the way it is.”

“Can you give us any pointers on where to look for the waystone?”

“Among the goblins. Where exactly? Who knows with those green-skinned vermin? Maybe they dropped it somewhere near the entrance, or maybe they carried it off to their den. Or sold it. Or smashed it. Goblins are a law unto themselves.”

It was just one disappointment after another. Still, I was going to get some useful information somehow. I had to.

“The alchemy laboratory…”

“Don’t even start!” said Martha, interrupting me aggressively. “Thanks to you lot, it doesn’t work anymore, and I have no idea what has to be done to even get back inside. Hey, maybe you’d take the job? I can’t let you into the treasury, but I can give you a decent reward.”

Quest available: Clear the alchemy laboratory

Within your dungeon, there is a ruined alchemy laboratory that, due to unfortunate circumstances, has become polluted. The pollution is so bad that any being up to Level 8 can die in the toxic vapors. There is no ventilation system, so the laboratory will not clear automatically. If you can’t find a way to deal with the pollution, it will continue to be a burden on your Dungeon. Time to clear laboratory: 24 hours.

Do you wish to accept the quest?

“I knew I couldn’t count on you!” said Martha, pouting petulantly, when I declined to accept the suicide mission. No rewards and far too many problems. Any being less than Level 9 would die. What the hell was that toxic stuff? On the other hand, I was still kind of grateful for it. Without that toxic stuff, we’d never have been able to kill the metal beetle.

“Are you trying to kill us?”

“Kill you? But collector, you’re immortal!”

“What the hell gave you that idea?” To say I was shocked would be an understatement.

“Well, everybody knows that!” said Martha with a clear-eyed gaze. “You have the option to be resurrected.”

“Tell me more,” I said, trying to retain my cool.

“What more is there?” said Martha dismissively. “You got access to the integration stone, right? Well, that’s also access to the store, where you can buy anything, including a waystone. That’s where we got ours from. We saved up for thirty years! Then those filthy goblins came along one day and filched it! That dead bitch didn’t even chase after them. She was fat and she couldn’t run.”

“Martha, stay on the subject! Immortality!”

“Well, I’ve told you already! You can buy a resurrection orb in the store, and that will resurrect any collector. Anyway, stop pressuring me! It’s because of you and your pointy-eared friend that my reputation is suffering. The miners are plotting to rebel if that white-haired trollop leaves the Dungeon.”

“Hey, how about a swap? We give you the cloak with the attractiveness property, and you give us something useful from the previous matriarch’s stocks? A rare cape would fit the bill perfectly, for example.”

“Are you serious?” A rare cape for that useless common-rank rag?” Martha tutted, but her wandering eyes told me that the idea had caught her interest. I needed to keep pressing.

“Of course I’m serious! You’re beautiful as you are, naturally, but with that cape you’ll be irresistible. Not just Carl but all the gnomes will forget about any elf girl in an instant.”

“I always knew you had good taste,” said Martha, fixing her greasy hair with her fat sausage fingers. It looked hideous, but I kept smiling.

“So, should I call Lyra in?”

“A rare cape… Isn’t that a bit much? Maybe we can agree to an uncommon one?”

“You should be asking whether a rare cape is really enough,” I insisted. “Think about it — who else is going to give you an incredible gift like that? Your gnomes? Carl? No, only us. And you won’t even let us in the treasury. Lyra, get in here!”

Perhaps I hadn’t fully appreciated the high drama of the situation. It was as if Lyra had been standing right behind the door the whole time. As soon as I shouted, the whole crowd came rushing in — Lyra, Gor, Little Bald, Carl, and a couple of other nameless gnomes. Everyone was waiting to see how the squabble between their commanders would end. I explained the swap and saw Lyra’s green eyes fill with tears.

“But… but that’s my cape!” Lyra sniffled, ready to burst into sobs at any moment.

“I knew you had your eye on my throne!” Martha was the first to succumb to her emotions. But instead of knocking the tiny elf girl off her feet with one mighty blow, she started crying. Lyra soon joined in, and a moment later the room was empty again. Gor, Carl, Little Bald, and the two nameless gnomes in particular all realized that they had important unfinished business in other parts of the dungeon and fled, leaving me alone with the two sobbing women.

“Enough!” I shouted when I couldn’t take any more. “Lyra, I gave you a direct order. Take off your cape and hand it to Martha. Her need is greater than yours.”

“You won’t be putting your hands anywhere near me after this, I can tell you!” said Lyra, her tears drying in an instant. Raising her head proudly, she pulled off her cape, rolled it up in a ball, and chucked it at the gnome matriarch. The cape didn’t reach its target. Unfolding in the air, it flopped down close to the throne, where Martha was still sniffling.

“Now it’s your turn,” I said, pointing to the enormous gnome. “Get over here quick!”

I picked up the cape and fastened it myself on the boss of the local Dungeon. As soon as I did, Martha’s face glowed and an immediate transformation took place. Lyra was stunningly beautiful anyway, so the cape’s enhancements made little difference to the way I saw her. But on Martha, the effect was enough to make me giggle in surprise. The grotesque gnome matriarch became a perfectly pleasant-looking woman. I’m not saying she’d have won a beauty contest, but it wouldn’t have been all that weird to see her enter one anymore.

Martha understood my silence correctly. With a brisk shuffle of her feet, she disappeared into one of the neighboring rooms and soon returned with a wrap of purple cloth. Unfolding it, she showed off the gorgeous handiwork, which for a second genuinely took my breath away. Where the hell did the gnomes get something like that from?

Heavenly Elven Cape

Rank: Rare collection item

Number of items in collection: 4

Collection bonus: Unavailable

“As we agreed,” said Martha, holding out the cape and snapping me out of my daydream. “I can’t wear this, but it’s perfect for you.”

I accepted the gift, astounded by the exquisite work of the elf craftsmen. The cloth was thin, almost weightless, and it looked just like the sky at night. Hundreds, no, thousands of different stars were scattered across the fabric, turning into a true work of art. Lyra was still standing with her back to me, proudly demonstrating her attitude to her commander. When I began to wrap the cloak around her shoulders, she started to flinch, as if she wanted to toss it to the ground. However, when she noticed the purple hue, she froze and let me finish what I was doing. I fastened the cape, straightened her amulet, and brushed back her hair, then examined the elf girl carefully. If it had been possible to credit her attractiveness to her old cape’s properties before, then now it was quite clear that the beauty was all Lyra’s.

“You can choose any properties you want,” I told her.

“Seriously, any?” she whispered, her two vast green eyes looking straight through me.

“Absolutely. It’s your cape and you can do whatever you want with it.”

“In that case, it’s going to be like this,” she said immediately. The stars on the cape began to glow more brightly, as did Lyra herself, mouthing a quick “thank you” to me.

Heavenly Elven Cape

Rank: Rare set item

Number of items in set: 4

Set bonus: Unavailable

Additional property: Doubles Attractiveness

Additional property: Active Auras Enhanced

Additional property: Chance to Lift Curses when Applying Healing

“Good girl!” I said, pulling Lyra towards me and kissing her with no concern for Martha’s presence. Why not? I was happy, Lyra was happy, and Martha was happy that the gnomes would stay with her. Why not allow myself a moment of weakness and show my feelings? Especially when we’d just been given another means of survival.

The chance to lift curses let us know that curses exist. Somewhere in this world, there were some kinds of evil shamans, dark mages, and other magical monsters who’d happily afflict us with all sorts of shit. So it was hard to know at that moment just how valuable Lyra’s cape might be. Furthermore, now we knew there were such things as sets, and that was yet another source of hope. A set bonus would be something more than just the additional properties, right? Or was I getting confused? Grumbler, why is it that when I really need you, you’ve suddenly gone silent? I needed to think of a way to give her back her voice. It was easier with her around, albeit more irritating.

“Martha, what is that energy core on the fifth floor?”

“That’s our reactor,” she answered eagerly. “It’s the foundation for developing the Dungeon.”

“You mean it’s possible to raise the Dungeon’s level? Take a look at what I’ve got!”

I showed Martha our Level 3 Dungeon key. She examined it carefully but shook her head.

“No, you can’t upgrade our Dungeon with that. First, we need to get the waystone back. We can’t do anything else without it. Then we launch the reactor and sort out the alchemy laboratory. Then we hire an alchemist and preferably an engineer too, to work on the reactor. A warlord would be good too. After all that, you can think about upgrading the Dungeon to Level 3, but not a moment before.”

“So, we need to hire new gnomes? Ones who have names, right?”

“Of course! All those brainless miners and warriors can do is dig and fight. But you’re getting ahead of yourself, collector. First find the waystone, then we’ll think about how to develop the Dungeon.”

“We need silirium.”

“Oh, don’t start with that again. You already agreed that our silirium needs to go toward development. Until we have the waystone, there won’t be any silirium. If those fools who handed over all our ore to your pointy-eared friend try anything like that again, I’ll rip their heads off. I’ve got to get everything back from the brink of ruin here. You’ve seen the state of the fifth floor — it’s a nightmare. And what about the first? The checkpoints have been destroyed, animals and goblins go backwards and forwards through it like it’s their own home. I’ve got an endless list of chores on my plate, and you’re still here, standing around doing nothing. I’ve got work to do, so get the hell out of here. Carl, where are you, you old trout? Get your ass over here, we need to talk about how to develop our Dungeon!”

Martha had made it quite clear that she was fed up with the sight of us. And she was probably right — there was nothing to be gained from loitering around in the Dungeon when goblins were sauntering around on the surface. However, before going up there, I decided to head back down. The gnomes had cleared up every level. All the monsters were destroyed, and every passage was now lit with glowing stones, so there was no further need to use slime. Once I got down to the fifth floor, I made my way to the main forge. That was where the integration stone was located — the one that allowed us to connect to the local System.

Placing my hand on the stone, I noticed a flashing pictogram at the edge of my vision. Concentrating on it, I pulled up a huge control panel in front of my eyes. Wasn’t it great to be a commander? I had the full list of all the opportunities the world of Vilion was offering to our small but proud group.

Auction, Quests, Status, Ratings, Exchanges, and — most importantly of all — the store! The very one that Martha had been talking about. However, I didn’t go straight there. The Auction tab immediately caught my attention. If it was anything like the games in my world, then we’d undoubtedly be able to buy something valuable and useful there.

Except that really wasn’t the case. It was crap piled on crap, with a side order of extra crap. I had no idea what was going on in the brains of the people who’d placed the lots, but they clearly weren’t all that well acquainted with reality. Junk items cost hundreds of silirium, while Common ones with just a single property were five hundred or more. As for Uncommon stuff, you had to put down a minimum of two thousand silirium just to take part in the auction.

After playing around with the settings, I managed to find three Rare items: a helmet, chainmail armor, and boots. Everything looked great, but the prices were outrageous — twenty thousand silirium per item. We’d managed to find four upgrade recipes in the dungeon — objects that could be used in crafting. You’d think that stuff found in an ordinary Level 2 Dungeon would be dirt cheap. Well, you’d be wrong, so there. One scroll cost three hundred silirium. Every uncut gemstone, of which we still had two, went for five hundred each! The prices really were shocking, like every collector was trying to make their fortune in one go.

I thought for a while, then put our recipes and gemstones up for sale. I didn’t have any immediate use for them — for now, silirium was much more important to us than the potential to craft something in the future. Gor was an engineer, but those scrolls weren’t designed for him, so I might as well sell them. It took only a few moments before the auction tab flashed and I was notified that I’d received two thousand two hundred units of silirium. Our items were bought in seconds. What’s more, the lots that had been posted before ours continued to be displayed, offering similar items at the same price. Bastards! Even here, there were speculators buying cheap to sell more expensive! I wouldn’t put anything else up at the average price — from now on it would be double at least.

What did make me happy was that the local System didn’t charge any taxes or commission. I sold our items for two thousand two hundred, and that’s what I got. Satisfied, I closed the auction tab, as I couldn’t see anything useful there, and opened the System’s store. If the prices in the auction had seemed off-putting, that was because I hadn’t looked at the store yet. Martha was right, there really was a resurrection orb among the huge range of goods the local System offered. This useful piece of kit cost two hundred thousand silirium. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what you’d need to do to get that much! Two hundred thousand for resurrection… Seriously? Dying on Vilion wasn’t economically viable.

As for a waystone, it turned out that even dying was cheaper than that! Five hundred thousand silirium. How hard had the gnomes had to work to save up that much in only thirty years? Clearly, buying one wasn’t an option for us, so we’d have to go deal with the goblins.

I found enhancement runes in the store too, both weapon ones and general ones. What can I say? We’d pissed away a lot of silirium. A weapon rune cost twenty-five thousand, and a general rune — which could be used on any item — cost fifty thousand. So, I’ve got an amulet that I can turn into something incredible? Sure, thanks for nothing, local System!

We climbed back up to the first floor in silence. Despite Lyra’s new cloak, the mood had been ruined. I was none too keen on the local System’s attitude to collectors. It… it wasn’t right. With the store, it was like someone had held out a candy and then snatched it away from us at the last moment. Let the dumb mules run around and work, leveling up and donating their crumbs of silirium to the System. As Grumbler had said, the starter worlds didn’t bring any profit. They were there to identify the best collectors, the ones who’d be sent on to other worlds.

“Oh, Max, there’s something flashing in front of my eyes!” said Lyra, staring off into space somewhere. Frowning and shaking off my depressing thoughts, I moved my gaze to the XP strip. Yes! Our bodies had finally fully adapted to the second level of the Dungeon and moved us up a level. We were now Level 3 collectors.

3 ability points are available to you. Do you want to spend them?

My depressing thoughts had vanished completely. What was the point in getting down? Nothing good would come of it. Did Martha need a waystone? Alright, we’d get her one. If necessary, we’d kill every last goblin on the planet. Those bastards were standing between us and greatness, and that meant we needed to catch them and crush them. Were we the Selected, or were we just a bunch of idle bums? It was time to show this world just what we’d been selected for!

Chapter 4

BEFORE WE SET OFF, I decided to sort out the abilities that the System offered us at Level 3. I was still baffled by the way leveling up worked here. Where was the fun in it? Where was the well-earned reward for heroically killing a monster, when your final epic attack knocks the last breath out of the enemy, the action freezes, and a garish notification swells out of the screen to let you know you’ve moved up to the next level?

There was nothing like that. Just the slow and consistent “exposure” to the local aura, which cooked us with its invisible rays like chickens on a rotisserie until we got a new level. It was like being rewarded for masochism. Still, that was the system.

We took a short rest and even replenished our supplies — fortunately, the water was free, and the gnomes had great piles of dried meat and fruits that they were willing to share. I tried to make contact with Grumbler but unsurprisingly had no success. The naughty System had been firmly, irrevocably punished and couldn’t answer any of my calls. For now, she was just a silent witness to our deeds — or, at least, she would be as soon as we started doing some deeds.

Anyway, we climbed back up to the first floor of the Dungeon, where the miners, watched over by a few warrior gnomes, were engaged in the for them unfamiliar task of clearing up the floor.

I got down to sorting out our skills. First, I dealt with my own and Little Bald’s, while strictly warning my companions not to do anything. Looking at the dracat, I smiled and decided to upgrade his Fire Spit ability to Level 3. I liked what his attack did and I wanted more of it. I almost pressed the virtual button, but then I remembered the limitations imposed by the System — one point for each ability. Little Bald was strong, but too often his shots went anywhere but at the target. Frowning, I read the description again. Yes, the System really was that much of a bastard — I couldn't enhance the dracat’s attack more than once. With a heavy heart, I left Fire Spit behind and moved to Accuracy. When Little Bald got angry and started spitting all over the place, our stocks of silirium were drained too quickly. We definitely needed to do something about that.

As for me, I improved my Direct Hit and upgraded Smothering Vine. I couldn’t wait to try out the latter on an enemy and I hoped the goblins would appreciate the upgrade. The results for the two of us were as follows:

Max:

— Direct Hit (2): You deal damage to the enemy, inflicting Bleeding on them.

Level 2: Increased damage, increased duration.

— Taming (3): Allows you to tame a companion and develop their abilities.

Level 2: Allows you to upgrade your pet’s abilities to Level 2.

— Smothering Vine (2): Wraps a vine around the enemy, binding them to one spot for a short time.

Level 2: Adds thorns, which afflict poisoning.

Little Bald:

— Fire Spit (2): Your pet spits a fiery ball of pure napalm at your enemy.

Level 2: Increased damage, chance to ignite target.

— Enhanced Accuracy (1): Your pet now spits much more accurately.

I sorted all that out fairly quickly and then moved on to my companions. I started with Gor because he was easier — we needed more gold! No, not gold — silirium. So, I asked the big man to level up Foraging and Breakdown. Then, after a short discussion, Gor with a heavy heart chose the Imperceptibility skill, definitively choosing the path of a stealth assassin. I found it hard to imagine how exactly the System was planning to hide eight feet of pure meat, but if it said Imperceptibility, I guess he’d be imperceptible.

Gor:

— Foraging (2): Allows you to collect useful ingredients from monsters’ corpses. Passive skill.

Level 2: Increased chance to find rare items.

— Trap Disarming (1): Allows you to disarm traps you find.

— Breakdown (3): Breaks down items to give you silirium.

Level 2: Increased amount of silirium.

Level 3: Increased amount of silirium.

— Imperceptibility (1): Not invisibility yet, but it allows you to avoid your enemy’s attention in battle.

Lyra proved hardest of all. Basically, her Level 2 Aura of Sanctification was all we needed. We could level up her Healing skill to Mass Healing, but the Aura of Sanctification already did all that, so what was the point? After some thought, we decided to go for Additional Aura. Lyra’s class bonus was her ability to activate auras, but only one at a time. For a second aura to work, she had to turn off the active one first. Therefore, rather than immediately taking a new aura, we committed a terrible crime — we spent one of our precious ability points merely on the possibility to activate a second aura, without actually getting any new aura.

Once we’d sorted out her bonuses, we moved on to skill. We immediately leveled up Shield Strike, just to see what would happen with it next. Her berserker class offered all kinds of options to work with different weapons, but I didn’t find any of them appealing. Furthermore, except for my crossbow, all the weapons we had were of common rank. All that was left was to sort out her healer class, but we decided to wait with that. Sooner or later, we’d find some thingamabob and level it up for her.

Aelyria:

— Shield Strike (2): You rush forward and slam your shield into the enemy, stunning them and applying the Stupefaction debuff.

Level 2: Additional damage and extended duration of stun.

— Healing (1): You let the power of silirium flow through your body and expend the energy released on restoring the integrity of your or another’s body.

— Aura of Sanctification (2): A golden cupola that forms a healing aura for your allies and a slowing aura for your enemies.

Basically, now we were ready. Fresh-faced, clean, well-fed, and even manicured in some cases. We made our way to the Dungeon exit.

Here and there, we heard the shrieks of goblins and beetles, as well as the concerted grunting of the warrior gnomes, who were still clearing out the first level. It therefore came as no great surprise when one of those goblins came trotting around the corner. We weren’t even phased.

Goblin Scout

Level: 1

Why would we be phased? We’d already gotten to Level 3 and we were awesome! Lyra raised her shield, Gor took hold of his knife, Little Bald opened his mouth…

“Don’t touch him, he’s mine,” I said. I’d just had a crazy idea.

The goblin saw us, immediately assessed the risk, gave a shrill whine, and tried to sneak past. Behind him came the happy “goo-goo-goo” of a bunch of well-armed, half-naked gnomes. If I’d been in the green-skinned monster’s place, I’d have whined too.

He tried and he failed, because I took a step to my left and produced a beautiful uppercut, just the way I’d been taught at the boxing gym. My trainer Jake would definitely have been proud of me. The goblin’s body soared into the air, tumbled over, and flopped onto the ground.

The inscription changed:

Goblin Scout (dead)

“Wait, what?” I shouted, and Gor looked at me in surprise.

“That was amazing, commander! You didn’t even need a weapon. Please, show me how you did that. It was… well, epic.”

There was a loud thud of boots, and a bunch of bare-chested gnome warriors came running up to us. They pointed at the dead goblin and began to goo, then pointed at me. Then they thought for a while and started gooing in Lyra’s direction.

“What do they want?” she asked with a frown.

“How would I know?” I said.

“Well, you got that tablet, didn’t you? Why haven’t you learned their language?”

She had a point. I scratched my head. Yeah, why hadn’t I? I hadn’t been able to find anything like the tablet in the store, so I had no idea what it was worth. Sure, the System had wanted to buy it, but when was that going to happen? We still needed to make sure this Dungeon was actually ours. And I still wanted to get myself a gnome army at some point.

I took the tablet out of my bag.

Gnome Tongue language tablet

Type: Consumable

Do you want to learn the language?

Warning: This item can only be used once and will then vanish.

“Yes, I do!” I said.

I felt a brief sharp pain in my head, the world swam before my eyes, and a wave of dizziness came over me. Gor was standing next to me and carefully took my arm to hold me up.

“Are you alright, commander?”

“We’ll see,” I said, shaking my head to get rid of the brain fog and listening in to the gnome’s chatter.

“Googoo.. Did you see… Googoogoo… You couldn’t do that, you dumb ass… Googoo… Go on then, show us…”

“Alright, shut up!” I barked, and it was as if I was listening to my own words from outside. I was amazed how I hadn’t previously noticed the different intonations in the gnomes’ gooing. It was so simple! I’d just gooed fluently!

The gnomes all did a double take and stared at me.

“Do you speak our language?” asked the most talkative of them.

“Lord,” I said.

“What?”

“Call me Lord. I’ve always wanted to be a dark lord. I haven’t worked out the darkness bit yet, so just ‘Lord’ will do for now.”

“Very well, Lord,” nodded the gnome warily.

“Perfect!” I said happily. “Which of you knows how to get to the goblin village?”

“How would we, Lord?” asked the gnome, shrugging his shoulders. “We never leave the mine. The matriarch doesn’t allow it.”

“That’s a pity,” I said, shaking my head. “You need to get your bearings, get some fresh air too. Well, never mind, minions, your lord is off to do some great deeds.”

Gor was right beside me, and it was like I could hear the gears in his brain crunching. To distract him, I pointed to the corpse of the goblin, which was surrounded with a blue aura. The big man’s face had a look of utter incomprehension, so I had to explain:

“Collect that silirium, collector! How much do we get for a Level 1 goblin?”

Silirium +2. Total: 2252

“Not great,” I said with a frown. “I guess he was the junkiest of junky scouts. Still, Gor, why are you just standing there?”

“I collected the silirium, commander.”

“You did. But don’t you notice anything unusual about this goblin?”

Judging by his baffled expression, the big man didn’t. Nor did Lyra. Little Bald, however, meowed and went to sniff the corpse. He sneezed and with a flap of his wings was suddenly on my shoulder. Since he’d got his pants, the dracat had stopped licking himself at every opportunity, so now he spent most of his time on me.

“Alright, we’re not going to play twenty questions here. That’s a Level 1 goblin. In a Level 2 Dungeon. Physically, it’s impossible for him to be here. Don’t you remember how awful we felt? What that means is that somewhere inside him there’s a gemstone. Gor, your mission is to take him apart and find it. At auction, that gemstone’s worth five hundred silirium, so there’s no way we’re leaving it here. Besides, the goblin has clothes. What do we do with clothes, especially the ones that don’t fit us? Can you guess now, Gor?”

“We break them down!”

“There’s only one way to get back in the VIP Lounge,” added Lyra wistfully, watching calmly as Gor began to gut the ugly corpse. There really was a stone in its guts — dirty, slimy, and pretty disgusting, but still whole and unharmed, so that was another five hundred silirium on the balance.

“Commander, there’s more here!” shouted Gor, ripping a purse from the goblin’s belt and handing it to me. “Two stones, commander. You’re the best! Nobody needs these pants, do they? Right, I’ll break them down.”

Silirium +10. Total: 2262

Judging by Gor’s face, I wasn’t the only one who was shocked. Ten silirium for a junk item! The goblin had plenty of those. Well, five anyway, and that was another fifty silirium — from a loser like that! It was truly awesome.

“Get the idea now?” I said, giving Gor a meaningful look as I put the three gemstones back into the purse and tied it to my belt. “This is our investment in the future.”

“Got it, commander,” nodded Gor. “We’re not just out to kill people, we’re going to rob them too!”

“That’s the plan. Lyra?”

“If it gets me closer to the spa, I’m all for it!” nodded the elf girl.

“Commander, why did you want to catch that goblin?” asked Gor suddenly.

“To question him, of course. I want to work out where we should search for this waystone. We need a guide who can show us the way.”

“A goblin? Show us the way?” Lyra joined the conversation unexpectedly. “Do you know their language too?”

“Erm… no. But I’d have used gestures,” I said a little weakly, trying to save face. “Anyway, enough talking! Let’s go find some goblins! Once we’ve got our hands on a couple, I’ll show you just how easy it is to communicate with them!”

Lyra shook her head and started walking. Near the exit on the first floor of the Dungeon, there were two warrior gnomes who gave Lyra a long stare.

“Hasn’t the elf girl gotten uglier since last time we saw her?” one of them said to his bearded companion.

“No, not uglier exactly, just a lot thinner. Now, our matriarch, she’s the real deal! The elf girl wouldn’t be too bad with a few beers though — if you ran out of snacks.”

“I definitely wouldn’t say no to the elf girl and a few cold beers.”

It was hard not to laugh as I watched Lyra striding proudly forward. I wasn’t going to tell her what those bearded little shits were saying, however. She might get a complex about it.

We reached the Dungeon exit. Or entrance, depending on which side you were looking from. I took the first step, and again the shimmering shroud enveloped us for a second, wrapping us in horrible coldness. Then we were outside, squinting in the light of the sun. Actually, the suns.

“It’s sooo beautiful!” sighed Lyra, looking around.

“Hmmm,” I said, staring up into the sky.

It appeared that the planet’s second sun had not yet risen when we were on the mountain. It was up now, though, and shining in all its glory. It really was beautiful, adding a shade of purple to the normal yellow light of the first sun and making the shadows and everything around us come alive with colors.

The leaves of the trees, which were much thicker here than up at the top, turned from purple to green to some indescribable color as they fluttered in the wind. I wasn’t great at physics when I was at school, but I knew that colors, like light, were supposed to mix. Here, however, it was as if each of the suns was fighting for its color and refusing to mix with the light of its rival. It was weird and gorgeous to look at.

It was also hot and humid down there. Everything followed the normal laws of physics. Up top, there had been a light, refreshing breeze, but down here the air was still. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had the thought that our human scientists had been wrong to believe that the conditions on Earth were unique. Apart from the two suns, everything here was what we were used to: temperature, gravity, water, and food. On the other hand, what would be the point of chucking us collectors into some toxic atmosphere or very strong gravitational field? We’d just die, and the System had more sense than that.

Right, so what was going on here? I looked at the virtual map and saw lots of orange dots of different sizes, but mostly small. I guessed they represented the vaguely dangerous local beasts that lived in the jungle around us.

But then… As I was looking at the map, an arrow appeared on it, pointing to… Well, I had no idea what points of the compass they had here or what they would be called. Still, there was an arrow, and it was pointing somewhere.

“Can you see that too?” I asked my companions.

“Yeah,” said Lyra. “What a beautiful bird! When I finally get my own home again, I’ll keep one of those just to look pretty.”

Confused, I looked where the elf girl was pointing and saw a colorful bird that looked like a large parrot, sitting on a branch and staring at us with a surprisingly thoughtful expression on its face.

“No, I’m talking about the arrow on the map. Can you see it?”

“No, commander, I can’t,” said Gor. Unlike Lyra, the big man seemed a lot more wary and nervous.

“There’s no arrow,” Lyra confirmed.

“How very interesting,” I drawled, examining the map again. “Grumbler, is that you?”

There was no answer, of course. I stood open-mouthed for a couple of seconds, then had a brilliant idea.

“If it’s you, make the arrow flash twice.”

I held my breath and waited. The arrow flashed, then flashed again.

“Oh, cool!” I said happily. “Do you know Morse code?”

The arrow flashed twice again. I sighed.

“Unfortunately, I don’t. Still, yes and no is communication too. Let’s have one flash for no. Is that the way to the goblins?”

After a short chat, we established that no, the arrow wasn’t pointing toward the goblins. Although maybe it was. The arrow actually showed the way to the lost waystone, which Grumbler had managed to find and identify. She said the local System had helped her, so maybe their relationship was getting better.

Everything was coming together, and there was no problem with the language barrier. To be honest, I’d had no idea where we should go. Somehow, this felt like an RPG that was done wrong. Shouldn’t there be a bunch of NPCs to help and direct us? I’d seen how games that were too difficult never got a decent audience because the developers were trying to be too clever. The few brain cells most users could rub together weren’t enough to understand the creators’ brilliant concepts. The same thing happened with books, especially when authors decided to ignore the rules of their genre and do whatever they wanted. Still, that was a different story.

In any case, we couldn’t just abandon this life and try a new one. I mean, it turned out there was resurrection here, but it would bring us straight back into this world, with the same rules. All we could do was try to understand what they were.

“Alright, guys, let’s go! Great things await us,” I said, nodding toward the forest that spread out in front of us. We set off happily in search of adventure, like real heroes. That’s what we were, after all — the Selected. And woe betide any enemies that crossed our path.

* * *

“I hate doves,” said Lyra grumpily, bending down to the stream of water and washing the remains of blood, guts, and feathers off her face. “I’m never going to keep a bird like that. They can go fuck themselves.”

“I agree,” said Gor, who was also covered in feathers but couldn’t wash yet because he was standing guard.

I had a simpler approach — I just climbed into the creek and lay down across it, letting the weak current lap over me. It allowed me to freshen up a bit, as the heat was intense. There was the smell of bonfires in the air too, which was not reassuring.

Furthermore, we’d almost been killed by those goddamn parrots, which appeared in the System’s notifications as:

Rainbow Dove

Level: 1

The name reflected their feathery appearance and cooing voices, but gave no clue as to their horrible character. As soon as we set foot in the jungle, the bird that had been watching us let out a fearsome coo, and the forest came alive.

Several of its feathered friends came swooping down from the trees and quite literally threw themselves at us — diving down, they aimed their hard beaks directly at our bodies. Did I see any yellow dots on the map? No, I did not. The whole forest had turned into one great big red dot.

I was the first to learn just how hard and sharp those beaks were when one of those flying monsters slammed straight into my back. It hurt! Worst of all, we had no weapon that would really work against them. You couldn’t hit them with a sword, let alone a knife, and they moved too fast for my crossbow to be much use. Although…

I did have partial auto-aim. So I fired once, then fired again. The result was impressive — minus two doves and minus two bolts, which flew far off into the distance, literally ripping through the bodies of the filthy birds. That was great, but I had a limited number of bolts. We’d need to think of something else…

Piaow!

That “something else” turned out to be Little Bald. Wow! Oh, wow! The flaming ball he spat out had increased significantly in size, taking out two doves in one go, and setting fire to some goddamn baobab right next to us.

Piaow! Piaow!

The smell of battle filled the air. Actually, that was the smell of forest fire, which could turn out to be much worse than battle if we weren’t careful.

We ran, and the doves came flying after us. Fortunately, however, it turned out they were dumb as a rock. Once they’d started diving to attack us, they couldn’t stop. So, when Lyra put up her shield against one of them, it just splatted in a mess of meat and feathers. And a cloud of silirium, of course, which Gor immediately collected.

That was how we ran, dodging and hiding behind the elf girl’s shield. Soon, we left the habitat of those flying bastards, and they backed off. Then we found the stream. Lying in it, I got to thinking how this world really wasn’t all that friendly. Although our doves back on Earth were really just pigeons too. Here, rather than shitting on your head, they tried to remove it. It was a good thing we had our wits about us.

“Commander,” whispered Gor quietly, distracting me from my thoughts.

I lifted my head out of the water and looked toward the forest. At that moment, one by one, little green bastards appeared from behind the trees. They were armed and they grinned evilly. It looked like my rest was over.

Chapter 5

TEN. TWENTY. Fifty!

The goblins weren’t doing things by half — if they were going to attack, they were bringing a crowd. Why run around in little groups? There was a truly hideous number of red dots on the map. Furthermore, these weren’t just Level 1 scouts. Oh no, we were going up against the goblins’ elite special forces:

Goblin Warrior, Level 2

Goblin Archer, Level 2

Goblin Mage, Level 2

So, there were three different types of beasts lined up against us. The warriors were in front, the mages and archers behind. It wasn’t just a crazy rabble of monsters like the ones we’d faced in the Dungeon. It was a real army, led by a mighty goblin who looked a bit like Gor, although smaller.

Goblin Warlord, Level 3

I took an instant dislike to this warlord. He looked all too well equipped — full armor, an enormous club that glowed green, and little red eyes that stared intently at our group. He waited until his troops were all properly formed up, then raised his club with one hand like it was as light as a chopstick and pointed at us.

“Garee-ga!” he roared, and fifty goblins began to march toward us. They didn’t start firing yet — they were too far away — but the closer they got, the more my heart began to pound in my chest.

“Let’s get out of here!” I shouted, jumping out of the stream.

“Commander, are we fleeing?” asked Gor in surprise. “Warriors don’t run from battle, do they?”

Judging by Lyra’s expression, she didn’t want to run away from the green monsters either. Even Little Bald was obviously keen to try out his new abilities.

“Fleeing? No, this is a tactical maneuver!” I told them.

“Or, in other words, fleeing,” said Lyra, and she even started to pout.

“No more backtalk, follow me!”

Grabbing Little Bald, I ran toward the forest we had only recently left. My companions followed me reluctantly.

“Max, what about the doves in there?” asked Lyra.

“That’s why I said we’re not fleeing. We’re performing a tactical maneuver. Why fight ourselves if we don’t have to?”

“Commander!” Gor had a strange expression on his face. The char-ra even halted, as if my suggestion had stopped him in his tracks. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach — was it a breach of char-ra ethics to pit two enemies against each other? I turned around, expecting to see rage or disappointment, but not the look of dogged devotion that was in Gor’s eyes.

“Gor?”

“Commander, it’s a brilliant plan! Pitting the doves against the goblins, then taking out whoever’s left alive — that’s a maneuver worthy of a great warrior!”

“Yeah, I know it’s a brilliant plan. So quit standing around and follow me!”

The goblins had almost reached the stream. The warlord kept issuing orders, and a few of the archers launched arrows at us. They didn’t reach us yet, but I really didn’t like how determined those assholes were. They were too fast, too strong, and there were too many of them. Just one volley of arrows or whatever the mages had up their sleeves would be enough to wipe us off the face of the planet, and there was nothing we could do to defend ourselves. That was why we needed to get under the trees for protection and then work out what to do next.

“Coo-coo?” said the first feathered monster, who we came across practically as soon as we got beyond the treeline. The rainbow dove was sitting on a branch and watching us with interest, deciding whether to launch a crazy attack on us immediately or wait for its buddies.

“Coo-coo to you too!” I said, pulling out my long-forgotten sling. I picked up a stone and launched it at the dove. My shot was on target and knocked the dove from its perch, sending feathers flying in all directions. It didn’t kill the dove, but it certainly caused plenty of pain. The bird flew up into the air screaming like a lunatic and, picking up speed, flew straight for us. Lyra took a step forward and raised her shield. The dumb bird obliged by squashing itself, putting a hasty end to its time on Vilion. However, it hadn’t died in vain — it had summoned its pals. All the orange dots in the forest suddenly turned red and began rushing toward us.

“Lyra, take cover! Gor, use your invisibility and hide among the branches!” I ordered, pointing toward a broad tree. Among its roots, there was some kind of hollow where Lyra and I could easily hide, and I wasn’t worried about Gor. Actually, I was worried about him, but we needed to check out his new skill, and what better opportunity would there be?

Everything went smoothly. I dived into the hollow, clutching Little Bald to my chest. Lyra lay on top of me, covering herself with her shield, and Gor blended into the foliage somewhere nearby. At that very moment, two mighty forces descended on us. On one side, there were fifty well-armed goblins, and on the other were several hundred crazy kamikaze doves. I even lifted up my head to watch the show. The doves immediately showed they had more courage than brains, diving into battle with no thought for the consequences. The goblins clearly weren’t prepared for their rage — as natives of the forest, they probably saw the rainbow doves as neutral creatures, so it took a while for them to resist. By that time, half the squad was lying on the ground, splattered with dove feathers and flesh. The warlord, however, demonstrated exactly how he’d reached Level 3. After all, the level was an expression of time survived. The higher your level, the longer you’d managed to stay alive on Vilion and the greater your experience. The massive club swung left and right, thwacking doves out of the sky, while the massive goblin issued an endless stream of orders. The goblins that had survived the first strike were getting their bearings and beginning to fight back. The archers and mages took out doves by the dozen, while the warriors formed a square with their shields to protect them all from the dumb birds. The maps showed fewer and fewer red dots coming from the forest, while the number of goblins was no longer going down.

“Lyra, keep your shield up! Gor, stand still and stay hidden. This isn’t your fight! Little Bald, it’s your time to shine. Aim at the goblins and don’t hold back. Ready, aim, fire!”

“Meow!” The dracat almost put his paw to his brow, then a new sound was added to shrieking of the birds.

Piaow! Piaow! Piaow!

Little Bald didn’t spare the ammunition. He went off like a heavy machine gun. While the goblins were working out where the new threat was coming from, the dracat’s fireballs had begun to reap their fiery harvest. The archers and mages roared as they went up in flames. The warlord pointed his club in our direction, and the warriors moved their shields to intercept his blazing attack. Then, quite unexpectedly, the warlord staggered and crumpled to the ground — a bolt from my crossbow had embedded itself in his eye socket. It didn’t matter what defenses the Level 3 warlord had, he was up against a weapon that was basically Level 9. An epic crossbow with auto-aim and crit-detec… Actually, I’m not sure what you called it, but either way it was awesome! It was a force to be reckoned with.

The ranks of the goblins fell apart in an instant, as if it was only the will of the warlord that had held them together. The doves shrieked even louder than before. Their feathers were floating above the trees and their bodies carpeted the ground, but the dumb birds did achieve their goal — literally a minute after the warlord fell, there was nothing left of the massive goblin squad.

“Stop! Lyra, get your shield up and catch them! We need to hold them off!”

There were around two dozen doves left — nothing compared to the vast flock we’d already managed to wipe out. As soon as the primary foe was defeated, the birds turned back to us. Little Bald bolted back up onto my shoulder — he was useless in this fight. In fact, the battle with the birds clearly demonstrated what we were lacking — mass attacks. When faced with a huge crowd, we were powerless. Well, not powerless, but definitely underpowered. We would have to do something about that.

It took us two minutes to get rid of the twenty feathered idiots that had nothing better to do with their time than crush out their lives on Lyra’s shield.

“I’ve got to go wash again!” grumbled the elf girl.

While Lyra was wiping off the feathers and bird guts, I ordered Gor to get to work.

“I’m on it, commander,” said the vast lump of flesh, hurrying over to where the main battle had taken place. The doves weren’t particularly impressive prey — they only gave two units of silirium each. However, there wasn’t just a lot of them, there was a shitload. At least three hundred of the braindead birds had met their end in this epic showdown. Plus six hundred silirium, just like that — a nice contribution to our pensions. Reaching the target to get back on base was going to be easy.

The goblins made us even happier. Each of those Level 2 bastards gave us sixteen silirium! As I’d suspected, the members of the squad we’d come up against were no low-rent scouts, they were real green-skinned special forces, the elite of the goblin lands. The fifty rank-and-file soldiers gave us eight hundred silirium, while the warlord alone was worth a whole forty-eight. We were raking it in! Gor’s foraging ability was a real cause to celebrate, and when he moved on to breakdown, I realized that we genuinely had a chance to thrive in this world — the big man performed a true miracle.

Each goblin was carrying six main items with them — armor, helmet, pants, belt, boots and weapon. The dozen archers also had quivers with arrows. On each goblin’s belt, there was a purse with provisions, which we decided not to touch. The gnomes had loaded us up with dried meat and fruit, so neither I nor my companions saw any reasons to risk eating goblin food. Gor couldn’t break it down either, so we threw it all into the bushes. However, food wasn’t the only thing in the purses — each ordinary goblin was also carrying one uncut gemstone. We put them all in a pile, and I stared at them dreamily. Fifty-three (including the three we already had) precious stone worth five hundred silirium each. Twenty-six thousand five hundred silirium, just lying there. All we had to do was go back to the dungeon.

Anyway, I was getting distracted. The goblins’ items were of no interest to us, just junk metal. So, after a short discussion, we agreed that Gor would break them all down. As soon as he set to work on the first item, we got another pleasant shock — ten silirium for each piece of junk! Grumbler had insisted that silirium was a precious resource that was extremely difficult to collect, and we were getting ten units for that junk. Fifty goblins, each with six or seven items… When Gor was finished and wiping his brow, there were three thousand two hundred extra units of silirium on the account of our small but proud squad. Add to that what we got from the doves and the goblins, and not forgetting we hadn’t arrived empty-handed… It was no great surprise when the local System acknowledged our achievements:

Your group’s silirium balance is over 3000 units.

Your group is permitted to return to base for a twelve-hour rest.

Do you wish to transfer to base?

“No!” I managed to answer before the timer ran out. “How much does it cost to transfer to the VIP Lounge? From now on, that’s the only place we’re going!”

Entry to the VIP Lounge costs 10000 silirium per collector.

Do you wish to change the base settings to VIP Lounge?

“I do!” I said, without even asking the rest of the group. After we’d experienced the delights of the best accommodations, we had no right to settle for anything less. Besides, there was no need to go anywhere at that moment. We were doing just fine. The System fell silent — naturally enough, as we hadn’t yet collected thirty thousand silirium. Once we’d sold the gemstones, it’d be a different story, but I had my own plans for that.

“Alright then, let’s deal with the warlord,” I said, wiping my hands. It was clear to the naked eye that he was no simple creature. That green club alone should be worth a tidy sum. It was useless to us, of course, but I did have one outsize acquaintance it would definitely suit.

The warlord’s clothes were all common rank, meaning they granted at least one ability.

“I guess I could use the shield and the boots,” said Gor, after carefully examining all the items. “Everything else I’ve got better already. As for the club… Commander, I don’t want to be running around with something like that.”

“It’s for Martha,” I explained, putting the massive lump of wood to one side with some difficulty. It weighed about as much as Lyra, and the warlord had been waving it around in one hand.

“Right… Oh, look what he’s got in his purse!” said Gor as he continued his examination of the valuable goblin. Lyra put her shield on the ground, and Gor poured the contents of the purse into it. Three gemstones, a few vials with dubious contents, some round chunks of metal identified by the System as “goblin coins”, and also a small wad of paper. Picking up the latter, I almost shouted out in joy — it was a map of the area! Sketchy and hand-drawn it might have been, but it was easily recognizable and surprisingly detailed. The Pyramid of Sharja was on it, for example, as were several large goblin villages. There were inscriptions for each object, but I didn’t speak goblin — or, at least, not yet. However, soon enough translations began to appear underneath each inscription. For example, the squiggles that marked the Pyramid of Sharaja hadn’t gone anywhere, but underneath them there was now a clear inscription reading: “Pyramid of Sharaja: Level 11 Dungeon”.

“Grumbler, is this your work?” I asked. The red arrow that was still pointing the way flashed twice. Our pet System, now assigned to us for a whole year, was beginning to prove useful. Even more interesting than the pyramid was another point on the map. Our Dungeon was marked, and Grumbler had come to the logical conclusion that the goblins had the same name for it as the local System, so she translated the inscription next to the portal as “Wild Gnomes’ Dungeon, Entrance 1”. There was also “Entrance 2” marked on the map, and this was the intriguing part: the panthers’ habitat was of interest to the goblins not just as the highest point in the area. There was something else up there — something which the goblins had marked with a cross and labeled with unfamiliar symbols that Grumbler hadn’t been able to decipher.

What was clear, however, was that “something” was so important to the goblins that they’d assembled a massive squad of fifty soldiers to go up against the Level 7 panther. Furthermore, if it hadn’t been for the crazy doves, their army would have had a good chance of success — while the warriors were pinning down the panther, the mages and archers could’ve inflicted damage on him. Those were sensible tactics, but the goblins had the same problem we did — they didn’t have any mass attack.

After checking with Grumbler’s arrow and comparing the direction with the card, I breathed a sigh of relief. I had originally thought we’d have to look for the waystone in the Pyramid of Sharaja, but if Grumbler could be trusted, the goblins had dragged the gnomes’ artifact to some hole in the ground that looked a lot like a mine. That was where we had to get to, but first I had a plan.

“Gor, grab that thing,” I said, nodding to the club, “Lyra, you take the gemstones. We’re going back to the gnomes.”

“Why?” they both asked simultaneously.

“Fifty-six gemstones means twenty-eight thousand silirium,” I explained.

“The VIP Lounge!” said Lyra excitedly.

“Weapons in the auction!” said Gor with equal enthusiasm.

“Meow!” said Little Bald, reminding me of his presence. I wondered if there was dracat food on sale in the store. It’d be good to get something to make the fleabag happy.

“Everybody fails the IQ test! In order to turn on that energy reactor thing in our Dungeon at minimum power, we need ten thousand silirium. Earlier, I thought that was an insane amount, but now we can afford it and we’ll be able to see what happens. Maybe we’ll make Martha happy, and she’ll give us something else useful. Lyra, how’s your cape?”

“You can’t have it!” barked the elf girl immediately. However, when she understood that nobody was planning to take it away from her, she answered: “Yes, the cape’s great. I want more stuff like it. Elven items are far better quality than the stuff the gnomes make.”

“That’s what I’m talking about! We activate the reactor, and the gnomes are bound to give us something in return. They’ll definitely be grateful!”

“You’re so smart, commander,” said Gor completely seriously. These pronouncements of his were becoming so habitual that I just nodded in agreement.

“And seeing as your commander is so smart, let’s get to work,” I added.

Our return to the dungeon was without incident. After our minor local genocide, we saw no more doves in the area, so there were no further problems on our way back to the shimmering shroud of the portal. The gnomes hadn’t been sitting around — when we reached the entrance to the main Dungeon, the way was already half blocked with a wall. It was going up very quickly. The miners were running back and forth on the first level, wiping up the dirt and the bug remains, so everything was much cleaner than when we first arrived. In a few days, the entrance would be completely sealed, and no Level 7 panther would be getting in again. Then the gnomes could really start working and breeding and making us happy with our earnings.

“Are you back already?” asked Martha when we found here on the second floor. The gnome matriarch was touring her territory and inspecting the seams of ore. “Did you find the waystone?”

“Not yet, but we come with gifts. Gor!”

The big man dropped the massive club, making the walls of the cave shake.

“We got Carl a hammer, so we decided this thing was for you. What do you say?”

Martha picked the club up with one hand, looked at it dubiously, twisted it around, then threw it away with a look of disgust. It slammed into the wall, leaving a dent. Stones and dust sprinkled down from the ceiling, and the matriarch energetically wiped her hands on her apron, as if she’d just touched something unhygienic.

“Did you get that from the goblins? Let me tell you something, collector — there’s no need to drag any old trash into my Dungeon. Did you really think I’d pick that piece of filth up? Unfinished, untreated, made by some rank amateur — I thought better of you, collector!”

“Have you lost your little gnome mind, honey?” I had no intention of letting her give me a lecture. “Lyra, how do you feel about taking charge of this Dungeon. It looks like we’ve got a rebellion brewing here. The local matriarch has lost the plot completely. Little Bald get ready to fire on my command!”

“Hey, collector Max, what’s going on?” Both Martha and Carl took a few steps back. So, she’d remembered my name now.

“That’s a gift from me,” I said, pointing to the club. “Pick it up quick!”

Martha hesitated, shifting from foot to foot, but eventually obeyed me. She picked up the club with finger and thumb, as if worried about getting dirty, and held it at arm’s length.

“Now take a look at the club’s properties, you dumb bitch!” If I was going to act like this, I’d better see it through.

Martha frowned but took a second look at the club.

“Hmmm,” she muttered, then looked at Carl inquiringly.

Carl examined the club and for some reason turned pale.

“Well, do you like it?” I asked.

“I do-o-o-o,” said Martha with a big grin.

“So, what do you say when somebody gives you a gift?”

“Thank you!”

“Thank you, my lord,” I added, recalling how I’d disciplined the gnome warriors earlier.

“What?” Martha clearly hadn’t expected this from me.

“Thank you, my lord.” I insisted. “This isn’t going to be a democracy, Martha. If you want to manage our Dungeon, then you’d better show your respect for the owners. I’m waiting.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Martha repeated. It obviously wasn’t easy for her.

“That’s more like it!” I said approvingly. “Carl, take us to the reactor. We want to activate it!”

“Yes, my lord,” said the clever gnome, quickly coming to the correct conclusions. I would really have to talk to him. I wanted to know how someone so smart had ended up here.

“Carl, I’m scared,” mumbled Martha in the gnome language as we were making our way down to the fifth floor. “What if he puts that pointy-eared girl on my throne?”

“Well, if you keep talking back to him, that’s exactly what he’ll do. Why did you reject his gift?”

“But it’s made by goblins! Compared to your hammer, that piece of junk has no place in our treasury.”

“It’s a gift from your master, idiot! If he punished you right now, I wouldn’t say a word against it. What kind of matriarch are you if you can’t understand these simple things?”

“I’m only just getting started!” Martha was obviously upset, but she kept a straight face. “Rather than scolding me, why don’t you help? What should I do now?”

“Make sure he doesn’t want to let the elf girl go. They’re obviously together, you can see by the way she looks at him. Throw that club in the treasury and then, as a return gift, present him with that elf’s gloves. Those will make her even more desirable to him, and he’ll never agree to be parted from his elf girl.”

“What would I do without you?” said Martha, positively beaming.

“You’d die. You’ll have to pay me back tonight. I plan on giving you a proper spanking for your idiocy. I might even use that club!”

“You sure know how to show a girl a good time!”

I had no desire to hear what Martha and Carl had begun to discuss quite shamelessly, but I did hear it. Damn, why did I have such an active imagination? How was I going to clean those images out of my mind?

When we reached the fifth level, we went first to the integration stone. The fifty-six gemstones were snapped up in a few minutes for five hundred silirium each. I probably should’ve tried selling them more expensively, but I need the resources as soon as possible. After turning down an invitation to the VIP Lounge, I headed for the reactor. The stone column looked exactly the same as it had on our previous visit — just as massive, incomprehensible, and covered in all kinds of buttons. I walked confidently over to the mechanism, trying to get as far away from Martha and Carl’s discussion of how she should be punished, and put my hand on the button.

Energy Reactor

Status: Powered down

To power up, the reactor requires silirium.

Do you want to refuel it?

Oh yes, I do!

Silirium -10000, total: 24948

I was already rubbing my hands in expectation of something awesome. Here comes a magnificent reward that will put us on a completely new level, and then we’ll take over the whole world before the great clans’ henchmen can even find us. The reality, unsurprisingly, was nothing like as impressive as my dreams:

Energy reactor activated.

Water purification system, lighting, and ventilation powered up in the Wild Gnomes’ Dungeon.

To raise the reactor to medium power requires 60000 silirium

For a while, I stood staring at the now humming device, trying to collect my thoughts. Go fuck the goddamn System! What the hell was this? Where was my hard-earned reward? Had I just exchanged two visits to the VIP Lounge for some indefinable bullshit? What the fuck was wrong with these people?!

Chapter 6

TO BE HONEST, I wanted to wail and gnash my teeth. Again. However, my frustration was interrupted by a careless phrase from Martha, who had come up behind me and was examining the ancient mechanism with interest.

“It’s a pity you turned down that quest — it would’ve completed itself right now. But thank you anyway, collector Max. You’re a true selfless hero.”

“What?”

“The ventilation,” said Martha, pointing a fat finger at the inscription. “It’s working now. Soon the alchemy laboratory will be cleared of that toxic fog, and we’ll be able to get back in there. Thank you for doing this for free.”

“Shit,” I whispered under my breath. My mood had shifted in an instant from frustration to despair. Goddammit. On the other hand, it was still my Dungeon, so at least something good could still come of all this.

I sighed heavily.

“What was it you said about an alchemist?”

“We need to hire one,” said Martha with a shrug. “More importantly, we need an engineer now our reactor’s working. And a war leader…”

“Yeah, I remember. After we get the waystone, right?”

“Right,” said Martha, “except that now we need an engineer sooner. The reactor’s working and has to be serviced. Otherwise, it’ll blow up. And we don’t want that now, do we? So…”

Quest available: Gnome Engineer

There is an abandoned reactor in your Dungeon.

Now it’s working again and without proper servicing it will explode. You need to find a gnome engineer.

Quest accepted

Time to explosion: 72 hours 00 minutes… 71 hours 59 minutes

“Shi-i-it,” I said again, this time more loudly. At least there was a fair amount of time — a full three days. Still, we needed to get moving.

“Collector Max,” said a voice next to me, but I was still deep in thought.

“My lord?” came the voice again.

“What do you want?” I said, turning to Martha.

“We don’t want to die!” she said, and for the first time I saw fear in the matriarch’s eyes.

“Don’t sweat it,” I said, still lost in thought, and patted the matriarch absentmindedly on her fat shoulder. “Nobody’s going to die. Uncle Max will save you.”

“Thank you, my lord!” Carl and Martha bowed in unison.

“My pleasure,” I muttered distractedly. After a little thought, I decided to keep my cards close to my chest and not admit that I spoke gnomish yet. “Right, time for us to go. Is there anything you’ve forgotten to give me?”

“What? Erm, oh yes!” Martha said. “Let’s meet upstairs by the exit!”

She then waddled off rather like an outsize penguin, presumably to the treasury.

“Why hasn’t it got any brighter?” I asked, looking around and remembering what the System had written about the reactor.

“Oops, wait a second,” said Carl.

He went over to the reactor and pulled on some levers. The effect was instant — lights hidden in the ceiling suddenly flashed into life. They were pretty powerful too.

I blinked, giving my eyes, which were used to the gloom, time to adjust.

“That’s better,” I said. “Can we heat up the water now too?” I added, nodding to my dishevelled companions.

“We can,” said Carl, making further adjustments. “There, it’s ready now.”

“Right, we’ve got half an hour to wash up, then we’re moving on!”

“Ma-a-ax!” said Lyra, staring at me reproachfully. “My hair won’t have time to dry.”

“Well, you’ll just have to go out with it wet,” I said. Seeing her outrage, I cut her off before she could start her rant: “That’s enough! Get to it, fighters!”

Half an hour later, we emerged clean from the shower room. I stretched, ignoring Lyra’s evil looks.

“Well, that’s better than nothing. Alright, my friends, you heard the gnomes. They don’t want to die, and we don’t want to lose our dungeon. So, we need to find that waystone and then get an engineer here. Let’s go!”

Martha was already waiting for us at the exit and she gave us a pair of very fine purple gloves. Lyra couldn’t keep her greedy hands off them, and I didn’t mind as the set was definitely going to her.

“They’re so beautiful!” she said as she pulled them on.

Heavenly Elven Gloves

Rank: Rare set item

Number of items in set: 4

Set bonus: Unavailable

“So, do you have the full set?” I asked Martha, and she suddenly grew flustered.

“I can’t disclose the contents of our treasury,” she muttered, looking intently at the toes of her size-eighteen boots.

“I’m your lord, aren’t I?” I said, deciding to push my luck.

“Only in words for now.” Martha was scared and ashamed. She kept staring at the floor, but she was unbending. “You have to bring back the waystone and restore our tribe’s good name.”

“And then I’ll get full access to the treasury, right?”

“Who knows?” asked Martha, throwing me a cunning look. Suddenly, I realized that somebody was trying to play me. But this was still my dungeon, so for now I’d play along, and hope attitudes changed further down the line.

“Alright, let’s go!”

We headed for the portal and soon found ourselves outside again.

“Alright, hit it!” I said to Lyra, nodding at her gloves.

“Whatever I want?” she asked.

“Yes, but always within reason.”

“We-e-ell… Oh my word!!!”

Heavenly Elven Gloves

Rank: Rare set item

Number of items in set: 4

Set bonus: During battle, applies the Lightning Shield effect, which deals damage to the attacker.

Additional property: Attractiveness doubled

Additional property: Every critical hit increases damage dealt (stacks up to three times)

Additional property: When dealing damage, there is a chance of healing yourself or an ally within a five-meter radius

“Clever girl!” I said, smiling.

“Am I really?” replied Lyra happily, looking even more beautiful than ever.

“You really are,” I nodded. I’d already realized there was nothing that could be done about the “attractiveness”. Besides, it wasn’t like I could complain about her being even more beautiful. But the other two properties Lyra had chosen were really interesting. She was slowly turning into the equivalent of a… of a what, actually? A paladin, maybe? I needed to find out more about the classes here. Something told me that Grumbler hadn’t given us the full story about the impossibility of changing classes. Maybe you couldn’t at the beginning, but later on…

Then there was her set bonus. What would that look like in battle? The property could already be activated and it burned up silirium, but we had plenty for now, so I wasn’t worried.

I looked at the map and was happy to see that the arrow was still pointing through the forest that we had already made relatively safe by genociding the local woodpecker population. Wait, no, they were doves, weren’t they?

Now we just had to work out how long it would take us to get there. The clock was ticking. I spun the map around and tried to work out the scale. However, I’m no great shakes at cartography. In computer games, the developers did it all for you, and the only time in my life I’d drawn a map myself was a plan of a warehouse that stored… Actually, that’s a whole other story.

Once again, Grumbler came to the rescue. First a little “ruler” appeared, which allowed me to zoom in and out. Then I just started pointing with my finger and asking questions out loud. Grumbler translated the names of the places I pointed to (not always correctly, I felt, but still), did some calculations in her binary brain, and began to indicated distances and directions. She also added the markers that I asked her to. For example, there was now a “Dead Dove Forest” on the map, and a “River Kalka” — I was quite a history fan, and I felt like commemorating the first great defeat of the princes of Rus at the hands of the Mongol Horde would be a good reminder not to be complacent about the threat the goblins posed.

“Thanks, Grumbler,” I said with all my heart when we finished.

The arrow flashed twice to confirm she’d heard and accepted my gratitude. I further examined the route we had to take.

Basically, we should reach our goal in eight hours if we had a clear run. I had plotted our route carefully, avoiding places with weird goblin names like “Double Ass” and “Maybe Death”. There were still a couple of strange woods called “Blissout Field” and “Something Odd”, but I decided not to be too precious and to go through them — the alternative would take us through “Goblin Kaput” and “Sorebutt”, neither of which I had any desire to visit.

So, off we went.

Needless to say, our journey was not without adventure. We did run into enemies, but fortunately, it appeared the surrounding areas were low-level, and nothing over Level 3 crossed our path. Even the Level 3 opponents only amounted to a handful.

To be precise, there were two of them, and each is worthy of a brief description.

To be honest, what I’d been hoping to find at “Blissout Field” was a cannabis plantation. Not that I was a real stoner or anything. Actually, I’d never really smoked dope in my life, but I knew people who did, and without any normal booze, how were we supposed to restore our spiritual balance around here? In any case, there was no cannabis plantation. What we did find there was a pack of wolves hiding in the high grass.

And one of them — the Level 3 one — was an alpha. Luckily, I didn’t step into the long grass without checking first — I sent Little Bald to scout. It’d be great if I could see through his eyes, like a drone operator. You’ve got to have a dream.

The dracat was increasingly independent, however, and when he saw the wolves, he took the only sensible decision — he started spitting fireballs straight into the grass.

Only afterwards did I realize that the wolves had tried to act in an organized fashion: half the pack blocked our path, while the other half tried to cut off our retreat. To our right was a deep gully. The wolves knew the place and wanted to push us into a trap. How did I know this? Because the alpha was sitting in the gully the whole time, waiting for a tasty dinner. More like lunch, actually, as it was still the middle of the day.

But, as I said, their plans were interrupted by Little Bald. The wolf “ambush squad” squealed and burned entertainingly, then began to run around aimlessly as the grass caught fire along with their hides. The “interception party” managed to escape the fire pit and actually made an effort to drive us toward the ravine. First, however, Little Bald was back with us, and second the wolves were all Level 1.

Lyra quickly activated her Shield Strike and rushed forward, taking out three wolves at once. Then she started waving her sword around. That was when I saw how Lightning Shield worked. It worked really well — pretty and effective! It was like short bolts lightning that burst from Lyra’s body and slammed into the wolves all around her. It was funny to watch the wolves’ coats puff up from the static electricity, but judging by their howls, it also fried them a little.

I watched sadly as the silirium disappeared unit by unit from our shared stocks and realized that it wasn’t just Little Bald consuming it now. On the other hand, what did I expect? Lightning Shield really was an effective property, and the System wouldn’t be the System if we just got it for free.

I ordered Little Bald to add his piaow-piaow to Lyra’s dance of death.

“Gor is useless, commander,” said the big man sadly once the dracat and elf girl had finished off the wolves.

“Of course you’re not,” I told him. “Silirium doesn’t just collect itself!”

“Gor wants to fight!”

“You want to fight? Well, have at it! There’s a kind of big boss waiting to ambush us!”

“Where’s the big boss?” asked Lyra, her blood pumping.

“He’s over there,” I said, pointing to a dark hollow the other side of the gully, where two red eyes were glowing.

Alpha Wolf, Level 3

“Should Little Bald and I go and deal with him?” The bloodthirsty elf girl smiled and licked her lips with her pink tongue. Goddamn, she was hot!

“Wait, wait,” I said. “That beast is Level 3, so we’re going to need some teamwork.”

I looked down. The drop to the bottom of the gully was only about ten feet, but it was still a drop.

“Right, today we’re fishing with live bait! Two baits, to be exact — Lyra and Gor.”

“Why not you?” asked Lyra, frowning.

“Because Max is our commander,” Gor explained calmly.

“See? He gets it. Also, because I have a crossbow. And allergies.”

“Alright,” said Lyra. “Do I jump?”

“Hold on,” I stopped her. “Gor, try to creep up behind him and stab him in the back. You’re meant to be our assassin and you’ve got the skills. Lyra, use your shield and see how it goes. Little Bald, stay here and wait for my orders. Alright, let’s go!”

Lyra jumped gracefully down into the gully. Gor landed with a resounding crash like a clumsy elephant. He had a long way to go to be an effective assassin. Meanwhile, I activated Direct Hit and took a shot at the wolf — it was a direct hit.

The alpha wolf began to run toward us with a roar and a crossbow bolt sticking out of his right eye. Ice Shot worked great — the beast’s movement was slowed like he was running through thick mud. However, not everything went entirely smoothly. The alpha wolf wasn’t just physically strong, he also had some kind of magic ability capable of briefly blinding his opponents with a bright flash.

“Goddammit!” I shouted the first time his flash went off. Despite the bright sun, it still left sports pulsing in my eyes.

Nonetheless, whether because the wolf was bothered by my bolt in his eye, or because we were working effectively as a team, Gor crept up behind him and successfully stabbed him in the back. The big man was sent flying with a kick, but then Lyra was on the wolf with her shield, adding electric shocks to the mix. Plus, I fired two more bolts. I didn’t even need to get Little Bald involved.

There were two things I understood from this battle: first, that Level 3 monsters were no longer a challenge for us, thanks to our gear, our experience, and my impeccable leadership. The second thing was that our main strike force was now Little Bald, with Lyra only a distant second. I remembered the strange color of the dracat’s inscription before I’d trained him and the System’s confusion. I looked at him thoughtfully.

“So, you were our secret weapon all along!”

“Meow,” he answered irritably. My pet didn’t like the extra attention from me. He was trying to lick his balls, but his new pants got in the way, so he was pissed.

“Commander!” shouted Gor happily from down below. “There’s a stash down here!”

Well, well, things were really coming together. Gor was living up to his class and his cool gear, so now we were going to make out.

The stash was in the same hollow in the slope that the alpha wolf had been waiting in to ambush us. In the far corner of this half-cave, Gor had moved aside a stone. After being “treated” by Lyra to prevent my allergy, I came to have a look. However, the contents were something of a disappointment — some kind of small statue, either a mermaid with no tits or a fish with big lips. Whatever it was meant to be, it was hideous.

Siren Figurine

That was it. No description or additional properties, or even any instructions as to what to do with it. I always hated things like this in RPGs — you take them with you in the hope that they’ll come in useful later. Then you end up with half your backpack filled up with junk that you get to the end of the game without ever finding a use for. Still, you can’t bring yourself to throw it away. So, of course, I took the figurine. What else was I going to do?

Still, the goblin bones and broken weapon that we found next to it made me happier. Gor broke down all the junk we’d found and, counting the dead wolves too, we even came out of the fight with a small profit. After the final junk-ranked dagger was broken down, I checked our balance:

Silirium +10, total: 25213

In other words, we could probably let Lyra hit any enemy with her lightning. Not only did it look cool, it was also perfectly affordable.

“Commander?” said Gor in a strange voice as we came out of the hollow.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, irritated at being distracted. I’d just pulled up the map and was trying to work out a new route for us — now that we’d set fire to Blissout Field and it was still blazing, so we’d have to find a way around it.

“Commander, there’s some…” Gor pointed to one side.

“There’s something that stinks,” said Lyra, sniffing at the air and screwing up her nose. “It’s right there where you’re pointing.”

“Yup,” said Gor pitifully, “you’re right. It’s what that alpha wolf used as a toilet.”

“So, what are you complaining about?” I asked.

“I’m not complaining, it’s just… That wolf ate some goblins, then shat out the gemstones.”

“Oops!” I said, trying not to smile.

Lyra laughed. Gor said nothing but continued to look sad.

“I guess that’s a side effect of increased awareness, right?” I giggled. Holding my nose, I went over to where Gor was pointing. “So, where are the stones?”

“Right there,” said Gor, with no intention of coming any closer. “You can see one shining near your right foot.”

I looked where he was indicating and smiled. There really was a diamond in the shit.

“Do they burd?” I asked.

“Dunno,” said Gor, shrugging his shoulders.

“You want to burn gemstones?” asked Lyra nervously. “But why?”

“Ob course I dod’t wadt to burd them, quite the opposid!”

I looked around and found a stick, picked it up, and used it to move the pile with the stone in it to one side. I knew that diamonds were hydrocarbons and did in theory burn, but with difficulty and only at very high temperatures. I’d have liked to have more detail, but it wasn’t like I could just look it up on Wikipedia.

What I did know was that I had no intention of digging around in a pile of shit. I wasn’t going to make Gor do it either, otherwise next time he’d just walk past and pretend he hadn’t noticed.

“Little Bald, fire away! But not too much,” I told the dracat, stepping to one side.

Piaow!

In the circle of burnt earth, there lay a beautiful, reddish gemstone. I picked it up, looked around, and nodded to Little Bald.

“Now burn up that whole damn shitpile!”

Piaow! Piaow! Piaow!

Forty-three stones at five hundred silirium each. Things were really coming together! Apparently not all the goblin scouts had managed to get across Blissout Field safely, which made even less sense of its name. Oh, well.

We kept moving, and when we got to Something Odd, we quickly discovered what exactly that odd thing was.

After crossing some low hills, we came out on a flat clearing with pools of lava that, at first glance, didn’t look too dangerous. However, they turned out to be home to Level 2 and Level 3 fire slugs.

These were strange creatures that looked like translucent lumps of lava. As they slithered across the ground, they left a burnt trail behind them. You could feel the heat coming off them, so I quickly understood that close combat with them wasn’t an option.

Fortunately, they showed up as orange dots on the map. Remembering our experience with the doves, we decided just to avoid them, which we very nearly managed to do. One of them however — one that was Level 3, of course — took an interest in these strange two-legged creatures and, emitting a growling sound, rushed toward us.

I couldn’t remember when I’d last run that fast — the fire slug was surprisingly quick. What to do with it or, to be more precise, how to kill it wasn’t immediately obvious, and I racked my brains for a tactical solution as I ran. When we came to the steep bank of a fast-flowing stream, I had one.

“Lyra, shield at the ready! Come and stand here,” I shouted once I’d found a suitable spot. Then, I took out my sling and began to shoot stones at the fire slug.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Obviously, the stones didn’t do any major damage, but they got the fire slug angry and focused entirely on me.

“Smack him!” I roared when the angry slug got between Lyra and the riverbank.

The elf girl timed it perfectly. Her Shield Strike sent the fire slug plummeting into the water.

BA-BOOM!!!

Wow! On contact with the water, the flaming critter actually exploded. A big puff of steam came rising up to meet us.

“What a clever Max!” I said happily, giving myself a pat on the back. You’ve got to blow your own trumpet sometimes.

Although in this case, my companions were more than ready to praise me, and Lyra even kissed me, which was nice. We moved on, with only a little way to go to reach the probable location of the waystone. I hoped we’d make it without further incident…

Chapter 7

“I’VE GOT A BAD FEELING about this place,” muttered Lyra, looking forward.

“This will be a great battle!” nodded Gor. “Finally, I’ll be useful. All of us will have to fight here.”

“Meow?” As the righteous pet of a righteous leader, i.e. me, Little Bald was proposing a highly effective path to victory — run away, wait sixty hours until our Dungeon blows up, then with a clear conscience and a clean slate, start all over again. When you come to think of it, who actually needs a stationary Dungeon? Especially if you get to keep your life.

It’s possible, of course, that the dracat’s meow meant something completely different — that he really wanted to lick his balls, for example — and that I was projecting my own thoughts onto my pet. I mean, I couldn’t just admit out loud that I was terrified, could I? Grumbler’s red arrow was pointing straight to the heart of this huge goblin settlement. The green-skinned freaks were swarming around the village like ants, and in similar quantities. Having knocked out a couple of goblin patrols, we were located on a small hill overlooking the settlement, so we were able to see a big hole right in the center. Apparently, that was where they’d stashed our waystone.

The goblin population turned out to be very varied. Most of them were Level 1, but some of the monsters were more interesting — there were Level 2s and even and couple of Level 3s. When some mutant who looked more like a scarecrow hung with strings of bones than a goblin came out of one of the larger buildings, I gulped — a level 5 shaman! This ancient monster had adapted to the maximum. Grumbler had said that, in the normal world, you could only reach Level 5. Any further had to come from Dungeons. So, that shaman had reached the maximum possible, and it could’ve happened a long time ago.

Talking of which, ever since we’d shot up to Level 3, the XP bar had almost stopped moving completely. In all the time that had passed since we leveled up, it hadn’t even grown by one percent. That was one thing I was thinking about. The other was that there really must be something interesting up on the plateau where the panthers lived, because one of them was Level 7. That huge beast had twenty-one different abilities, including all sorts of auras. How had he reached such a high level? Was Grumbler wrong about the Dungeons? Was it actually possible to keep leveling up in the normal world? No, when she told us that, she’d had access to the database, so the information must’ve been accurate. Had the panther found a Level 7 Dungeon somewhere and leveled up in there? Probably not. Ordinary Dungeons could only be opened with keys, and stationary Dungeons like ours didn’t appear to be all that common. It looked like a real riddle, but I did have an idea, which was that somewhere on that plateau there was some kind of Level 7 source of radiation. Maybe it was even higher and the panther was still developing. I had no idea what it could be, but it could definitely be useful to our group. All we had to do was survive a confrontation with the Level 7 panther. On the other hand, if we allowed our Dungeon to explode, we wouldn’t be able to get up on the plateau anyway. Goddammit! We definitely needed whatever shit that was, but to get it we’d have to slaughter a whole village of goblins.

“Max, we’re going to do a tactical maneuver, aren’t we?” said Lyra, looking at me in expectation of the only correct answer. Just like me, she had no desire to get into a fight with such a sizeable force.

“We can’t do a tactical maneuver right now,” I said, amazed that I was pronouncing these words. What, was I planning to play at being a hero? No, but what I understood was that, if we destroyed the whole village and got Gor to break down everything in it, we’d have enough silirium to upgrade the reactor to Level 2. Or even Level 3, as I was sure reaching Level 2 wouldn’t be sufficient to our requirements — that would be too simple for this world. So, slaughtering the goblins was a good plan, but how would we go about it?

I heard a strange rustling sound that made me turn around. Little Bald was hovering in the air and, performing all sorts of wild acrobatics, was trying to take off his pants with his teeth and front paws. Clearly, his constant urge to lick his balls had finally become too much to bear. Having at last achieved his goal, a happy Little Bald flopped to the ground and began to dig a hole. Of course! There was no hole in his pants, so ever since I’d put them on him, he’d been holding on, and finally it had got too much for him. He hadn’t been able to rely on his owner, so my poor desperate pet had been forced to take matters into his own paws and get the tight pants off himself. Once he’d finished his business, the dracat took off again and equally insistently tried to get his pants back on. He obviously didn’t want to lose the benefits his pants gave him.

“So, Little Bald, you can fly that high now, right?” I asked thoughtfully.

“Meow?” Little Bald clearly didn’t like the implications of my question. He even flew off to hide behind Gor’s broad shoulders.

“Don’t meow at me like that! I don’t see any archers in the village, or any powerful goblins except for that shaman. But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist. We need reconnaissance, and nobody can do that better than you. And not just reconnaissance — you fly over the village and keep firing until your throat’s dry. I don’t want a single building left untouched. Then you fly away. If anyone comes after you, lead them off in the opposite direction, then fly back to us. Is that all clear, soldier?”

“Meow?” said Little Bald timidly from behind Gor’s back.

“But he shouldn’t fly over from our position,” said Lyra. “What if the goblins aren’t completely stupid? If they see where he comes from, they’ll want to check, so Little Bald should fly off to one side before he approaches the village.”

“The commander’s wife is as smart as the commander himself,” rumbled Gor, raising his finger meaningfully. I turned to Lyra and almost lost the power of speech — the elf girl had gone bright red to the tips of her ears. Seeing me looking at her, she went redder still, achieving an incredible shade of crimson.

“We’ll leave family matters for the VIP Lounge,” I said. Lyra hadn’t immediately rejected Gor’s words, so at least technically she wasn’t against the idea. Neither was I — there’d never been a girl like her in my past life. Right now, however, was obviously not the time to discuss the state of our relationship, and I had every excuse to put the conversation off till later.

“Did you understand Lyra’s addition to the plan, Little Bald? Then get to it, solider. We need to the goblin village to flame!”

“Meow!” said the dracat angrily, but he did as he was told. Flying over the woods, Little Bald began to skim the treetops and soon vanished. The map showed his blue dot moving until it disappeared in the distance — Little Bald was following orders perfectly. Finally, he decided he’d gone far enough away and, rising to his maximum altitude, he began racing back toward the village. It turned out the goblins were sharp-sighted — only a few seconds passed before the alarm was sounded. From the towers that surrounded the village, icicles went flying in the direction of my pet, leaving chilly traces in the air. Finally, I was forced to acknowledge Little Bald hadn’t been wrong. Not only did his pants significantly increase his agility, allowing him to dodge ranged attacks, they also had the Warming property, so my hairless pet could fly through these banks of cold air unharmed. Neatly weaving between the shards of ice, the beige dot reached the village, and once again I was able to see exactly why Grumbler had wanted to buy the peculiar little kitten. A useless piece of hairless meat? Yeah, right!

The goblin village was quickly transformed into a real hell on Vilion. Little Bald didn’t hold back on the silirium, he fired at machinegun speed. His fireballs rained down on the goblins from the heavens, sowing panic and terror. However, not all the goblins agreed to be panicked and terrorized. The Level 5 shaman came out of the main building, located the target in the sky, and began to equip his ugly-looking staff. He was a long way from us, but I was willing to bet the scumbag had a purple weapon — the sort you couldn’t get in a Level 2 Dungeon.

Black shadows began to stretch in the direction of my pet, threatening to seize and punish him. That was not at all to my liking — our group were the only ones who should be doing the punishing in this world.

“Lyra, we’re up!” I shouted, unslinging my crossbow. The distance to the shaman was too great for me to have any hope of hitting him. We had to get closer, which I couldn’t do sitting in hiding.

“Got it,” said the elf girl happily. The speed with which our silirium was depleting increased, and the sparkling Lightning Shield aura appeared around Lyra. Grabbing her shield, the berserker charged forward, instantly forgetting her fear and the number of enemies ahead of her. Again, she had transformed into a crazed killer.

“Gor, get after her!” I shouted, trying to keep up with the elf girl. I didn’t have a chance. Lyra had clearly worked out how to control her Shield Strike ability. Picking some rocks at the very edge of the ability’s range, she activated Shield Strike, tucked up her legs, and flew off, whooping joyfully — a gorgeous lunatic in her absolute element. Who’d have thought that this icon of elf beauty would have such a powerful bloodlust? Did it bother me? As long as it was targeted at our enemies, not at all. Let her punish them.

Up ahead I heard the clash of metal on metal and Lyra’s battle cry. Our silirium began to deplete even faster. Lyra had activated her aura that slowed down the opponents around her and would also heal herself as soon as she picked up a scratch. Swinging her sword wildly, Lyra dealt blows right and left, and was soon covered in the blood of our enemies. She was further helped to survive by the fact that every sixth blow she struck activated Healing for free. None of us were anywhere near Lyra, so the ability just worked on her. I’d made the right choice when selecting the properties for her gloves, and she was now a true killing machine.

The goblin shaman noticed the new opponent and was distracted from Little Bald, as were the mages in the towers — all damage was focused on Lyra. That was just what the dracat had been waiting for. He dropped down again and continued to sow destruction. The buildings went up in flames one by one, spreading ever greater terror through the village. The panic-fueled mayhem increased. Finally, Gor and I made it to the party. The big man began to demonstrate genuine miracles of equilibrium, launching his enormous frame several yards into the air to land on one of the towers. It staggered under the char-ra’s massive weight but remained standing. The mages up there reacted too slowly — a couple of sword swings and their headless bodies came plummeting to the ground. I entered the field of battle and raised my crossbow. The goblin shaman was beginning to press Lyra, peppering her with unpleasant effects. The elf girl was holding up, managing both to wield her sword and to heal herself, but there was no question of her winning the fight. Too many goblins had formed up around her, and her lightning wasn’t even bothering them. Clearly, that ability needed to be leveled up. Actually, not the level itself, but some kind of magic power that would increase the effect of her healing, her auras, and that shield. Jesus, was that really what I should be thinking about right now?

Clearing my mind, I aimed at the shaman. The Level 3 wolf had managed to survive my shot. Would the shaman be able to? In theory, his defense should be significantly more powerful than that flea-ridden mutt’s. I would have to hit him directly in the temple — if the bolt could pierce his skull, it’s unlikely he could keep operating without his brain. Without his heart or his eyes, maybe he could. High-level monsters were capable of that sort of thing.

Holding my breath and ignoring all the horror that was occurring around me, I pulled the crossbow’s trigger. I felt the recoil in my shoulder, and the steal bolt, enhanced with Direct Hit, shot forward. The shaman hadn’t seen me — all his attention was focused on Lyra. She was already not advancing and beginning to flag. Little Bald swooped low several times to help her with his fireballs, but it didn’t make much difference. There were just too many goblins in the village. First, we had to get rid of their leader — without that shaman shaking his fearsome staff, which now clearly glowed purple, there was nobody else at Level 5 around. At the last moment, the shaman clearly sensed something. He managed to raise his head and even jerk away, but my enhanced auto-aim kicked in. The bolt altered its trajectory and went straight into our mighty opponent’s temple.

The battlefield was suddenly shrouded in silence. The goblins all froze, their eyes wide with shock and stuck on the stumbling figure of the shaman. Lyra made a few more thrusts, but then stopped — there was no more resistance. The goblins just dropped dead beneath her sword like sheep, and the elf girl found no joy in fighting sheep. Nor did Gor, who suddenly appeared beside me, glancing around in confusion. Judging by his bloody dagger, the giant had been busy too. But his work was done — real warriors don’t attack those who’ve given up already. Little Bald spat out a final volley of fireballs and came down to earth. Judging by the way his chest heaved, the dracat had fought his little heart out. His face was scorched, there were cuts all over his body, and a vicious ice burn covered most of one flank — the mages had managed to get to him after all. In fact, it was a miracle he’d been able to keep flying.

“Lyra, Little Bald needs healing!” I shouted, dragging the elf girl out of her stupor. She barged several goblins aside with her shoulder and ran over to us — minus two silirium, plus one happy dracat.

“Commander, what should we do?” asked Gor. “I don’t want to kill the weak. It’s… That’s not what real warriors do.”

“Just stay here,” I said, handing Little Bald to Gor and moving forward. The goblins’ behavior could only have one explanation — their chief was dead. What did that mean? It meant that we had to find whatever it was that made the shaman their chief. What for? Hey, who said we were going to spend all our time on Vilion hanging out with gnomes?

“Grumbler, we need to find some kind of symbol of power,” I said quietly. The red arrow flickered a few times, as she couldn’t believe what we were asking of her. I had to explain: “Quit stalling, that shaman controlled this tribe somehow. Now there’s a power vacuum in this village. We need to take control of it before somebody strong takes over. So, look!”

The arrow blinked a few more times in confusion, then began to point at the shaman. While the goblins were still shocked and grieving, I went up to the body. Only the weapon glowed purple — that strange staff that was more like a withered tree trunk, trimmed only on one side. The former chief’s clothing was all just of common rank. There wasn’t even a single uncommon item on him. I took the staff, trying to not look too closely at it. We didn’t have any shamans in our group, so the weapon was unlikely to be of much use to us. There was no hat or any other obvious symbol on the shaman. I went through his pockets and was ready to give up on the search, but the arrow continued to point insistently at the body. Alright, let’s try something else.

“Gor, come here!” I ordered, regretting that I hadn’t already set the big man to collect silirium. I was already wondering how much you got from a Level 5 creature.

“Commander?” Gor didn’t come alone, he was accompanied by Lyra and Little Bald. The goblins were gradually regaining their senses. They were standing still for now, but they were beginning to turn their heads, as if asking their neighbors what they should do next. Apparently, some invisible timer had started counting down and it could easily run out on us too early.

“Gor, this shaman has come kind of symbol of power. It could be hidden. It could even be inside him. It might not exist at all, as I’ve no idea why the goblins obeyed him. Find it!”

“Commander…” Gor obviously wanted to ask exactly what he was supposed to do, but he kept quiet when he saw my expression — there was nothing kind about it at all. The char-ra nodded and began to undress the shaman methodically, breaking down everything that wasn’t needed in the process. What can’t be used must be destroyed — that would be a great motto for our group.

“Wow, commander, I found it!” said Gor happily. When he turned the shaman’s pants into silirium, a small tablet fell out of a secret pocket in them. The translucent red arrow that Grumbler had drawn filled with color and jabbed at the tablet. It had been so well hidden that even Gor’s attention amulet had been unable to locate it. If it hadn’t been for his breakdown skill, we’d definitely have missed it.

Chieftain’s Sigil

The forest goblins of the village Urgan-Kan will submit to the owner unconditionally.

Do you wish to accept the Chieftain’s Sigil?

Common sense drew me to the “Yes” button, but I looked away. There wasn’t actually any limit on our time, so I could take a moment to think. Should I become the goblins’ chieftain? Was it something I wanted? To turn into Martha, sit on the throne, and never leave my lair? In this case, we were talking about a chieftain, not an owner. No, I wasn’t interested. Nor would anyone else in my team be. So, who would be?

The goblins weren’t just looking around now, they were whispering urgently. The timer on their inaction was clearly almost at zero. Even though what was happening around us was apparently “real life”, the local System still seemed to be adding game elements to it. Like this freezing of the locals, who were obviously NPCs. It gave us collectors a head start so that we could orient ourselves and succeed in mastering the world. That raised a lot of questions about what was actually going on here. Starting from the moment we were initially transferred to some space base, right up to the behavior of these strange opponents surrounding us right now. Instead of avenging their leader, they were standing around, playing dumb, and waiting for us to do something. That wouldn’t happen in real life. Nor would resurrection, for that matter. But, as we now knew, it could happen on Vilion.

Anyway, enough stalling!

“Grumbler, we need your assistance! You can see through the eyes of anyone in our team, not just me, right? No, don’t start flickering like that. Little Bald, get up in the air and look for prisoners.”

“Meow?” The dracat wanted me to know that he was tired and needed a good long rest, but I ignored him.

“Gor, throw him up as high as you can. Little Bald, you need to find a cage with prisoners in it. Off you go!”

“Me-e-e-eow” My pet’s hysterical wail faded the higher he flew. Gor had done exactly as I asked and thrown Little Bald way up into the sky. The dracat chose not to plummet to the ground and began to flap his wings. That’d teach him to complain of being tired. Until the commander was tired, his subordinates should keep working.

The arrow Grumbler was showing began to spin wildly, then suddenly shuddered to a halt. Another cry could be heard from Little Bald overhead, then he began to fly toward the hole.

“Follow me!” I shouted, rushing after the dracat, or rather in the direction the red arrow was pointing. The goblins we ran past were already not just whispering, they were beginning to reach for their weapons. Apparently, we only had about a minute left, no more. In that time, my off-the-cuff plan would have to work.

“Commander…” said Gor dumbfounded when he caught site of the cave. There, flopped on the ground, were several emaciated gnomes. Aha!

“Gor, get the lock!” I continued to issue orders, fully immersed in the role of leader. There was a massive padlock hanging on the cage, and now was no time to be hunting around for the key. The big man got to work, and soon a satisfying click could be heard.

“Lyra, heal them!”

In total, there were five gnomes in the cage, but only one of them caught my eye. Just as thin as the rest of them, he nonetheless had the good sense to stand up. He also looked at us clear-eyed, as if he understood what was going on. He didn’t have a name, but I didn’t need one right now. After all, I spoke gnome, didn’t I?

Gnome Veteran, Level 2

“Are you alright, fighter?” I said, gooing away like a native speaker. The veteran didn’t disappoint me by staring or drooling. He just nodded in silence.

“The Wild Gnomes’ Dungeon that you were taken from now belongs to us. Martha and Carl are in charge there. Do you know them?”

He gave another nod, and hope began to appear in his eyes — the hope that he might actually be rescued. Behind me, however, the angry muttering was growing louder. There were only a few seconds left before the goblins attacked. Showing the gnome what we’d taken from the shaman, I kept talking:

“This is the chieftain’s tablet. If you use it, you can become the head of this village. We’re collectors, so we can’t take the post. Without a chief, the goblins are going to attack and kill us any second. So, either you take a vow of loyalty to us, like Martha and Carl did, and become the chief of this tribe, or we all die now. You have about three seconds to make your choice, veteran!”

“I can’t become the chief without a name,” he said in a rasping voice.

“No problem, warrior!” Nobody could stop me now. “Now and henceforth, I dub you Steve! System, do you hear that? I want to confirm his right to that name!”

Grumbler’s arrow flickered strangely, as if our System was laughing at our sheer stupidity. However, that all stopped when the following notification appeared before my eyes:

The cost of assigning a name to a local creature on Vilion is 20 000 silirium

“Deal!” I shouted, feeling the trouble brewing behind my back. Lyra had turned to face the goblins, who were forming up around us on all sides. The beasts had finally snapped out of their trance.

Silirium -20 000. Total: 5 339

“Steve,” muttered the gnome in perfect human. Or, taking into account all the circumstances of our situation, in the collectors’ language. “I like it, collector! I agree to your conditions and I’m ready to take the vow!”

“Take this and activate it! The vow can wait. System, make a note that this gnome is now my subordinate! Steve, stop your tribe, or we’ll have to start killing them…”

“Gurgan!” came Steve’s fearsome cry, making the goblins freeze once again. I only looked away for a second, but when I turned back to Steve, I snorted in surprise. There was nothing left of the skinny prisoner of a few moments before. The local System had made some corrections to its creation, adding extra weight, height, and stature. Even his level had changed.

Steve, head of the village of Urgan-Kan, Level 3

Obeying some inner impulse, I handed Steve the staff we’d taken from the shaman. The gnome twisted the trophy in his hands and nodded his thanks. Walking around us, he said something in the goblin language, and the green-skinned bystanders began to run like they’d all got a swift kick in the butt. Some began drawing water to put out the fires, others started putting all the corpses in one big pile, and others still got down to repairing all the damage we’d done. There was no aggression in our direction — on the map, all the goblins in the village were now displayed in a pretty blue color.

“Will you accept my vow now, collector Max?” asked Steve in a different voice. I nodded, and as soon as the head of the village of Urgan-Kan had gotten to the end of his emotional declaration that from now on the village would be an integral part of the Wild Gnomes’ Dungeon, a notification from the local System flashed before me:

The Selected is the first group in the world of Vilion to gain ownership of a forest goblins’ village and a gemstone mine, and therefore will receive access to the VIP Lounge on the external base. Information concerning your achievement has been passed to the clan heads.

Do you want to use your reward?

“Lyra, do you want a bath?” I said with a grin as I accepted the System’s offer. We still had fifty-five hours to find an engineer. Considering how long we had actually been in this world, that was a long time. So, why not spend twenty-four hours relaxing in luxury? After all, a whole three days had passed since our last visit — a whole age!

Chapter 8

External System Collectors’ Base, Planet of Vilion

VIP Lounge

MIRELLE, HEAD OF THE CELESTIAL CLAN, arrived in a furious mood. The System’s notification had reached her in the middle of her briefing with her raid group commanders, in which she was instructing them to search for the group known as the Selected — the one that had gotten its hands on an item she needed and become the owners of a stationary Dungeon. Every rule on the planet of Vilion said that this trio should be sitting quietly and keeping their heads down, but instead she was hit with the news that they had once again done something remarkable. Furthermore, it was something that Mirelle took as a personal insult. The Celestial Clan maintained its place at the top of this world not just through the strength of its fighters, but also because it was the owner of the only mine that produced the gemstones that were vital for almost every profession. When you have a monopoly, you can dictate your terms. Now the clan’s pre-eminence was under threat. If the market was flooded with cheap gemstones, the clan could be in trouble.

Mirelle’s rage was growing, so she took the only reasonable decision — she needed a break. Spending thirty thousand silirium from the clan’s treasury, the felineer headed to the external base VIP Lounge. Nothing could calm her nerves like a good massage and a pampering bath, but the head of the Celestial Clan had a surprise in store for her. The VIP Lounge was already occupied.

“You?!” Mirelle hissed.

“Are you talking to me?” chuckled Crab, slurping from his favorite wine glass. “You’re running late. We were expecting you earlier.”

“We?” asked Mirelle, frowning. Then a door that led to one of the spa facilities opened, and Orytil emerged, followed by Roman.

“What a coincidence!” snorted Crab, draining his wine glass. Thrusting it forward, the head of the Stone-Cold Killers allowed the System to refill it and then continued:

“Three days ago, we gathered here at dear Roman’s request. Furthermore, it took us almost a month to put the meeting together. Naturally, as we’re all so terribly important and barely ever get a free moment. But now we’ve all come running back like roaches to a buffet!”

“You can keep your allegories to yourself,” said Orytil, fixing Crab with a fierce gaze.

“Shall we get down to business or do you all need to blow off steam first?” asked Roman in all seriousness. There were no objections, so the head of the Best of the Best began:

“If the Selected were previously just an interesting anomaly, then now they threaten the economy of Vilion. Neither Mirelle nor I will be happy if an uncontrolled amount of gemstones floods the market.”

“Somehow, I don’t give a flying fu…” began Crab, but then he saw Roman’s expression and cut himself off. “Alright, go on, what are you thinking?”

“Gnomes and goblins — now we know for certain that the group is active in the east,” continued the head of the Best of the Best. “The unexplored lands start immediately beyond the Pyramid of Sharaja. I propose that we look there.”

“Beyond the pyramid?” said Orytil, frowning. “Those lands are Level 9 and 10…”

“This means that they can’t all be. The high-level monsters are all located around the pyramid, but further on the levels must begin to drop. The pyramid’s influence can’t be unlimited. Tomorrow, three of my raid groups will be dispatched to that area. I propose that we join forces. What do you say, Mirelle?”

“I agree, but I have a problem: two of my main raid groups reached Level 10 in their last dungeon and moved on to the next world. I’m not fully confident in their replacements yet — the newbs have to be monitored.”

“Goddammit,” muttered Orytil. Everyone agreed with the elf. This particular feature of the world of Vilion had an extremely negative effect on clan manpower. Every time that a collector reached Level 10, they were given three hours to put their affairs in order, then transferred to a higher-level world. No exceptions or deferrals were permitted. That was why all the clan heads present in the VIP Lounge were only Level 9. They avoided leveling up so that they could retain their positions of power in Vilion.

“It’ll be a good test for the newbs,” said Roman, unwilling to give up on his plan. “I’ll send thirty. Orytil?”

“Twenty from me,” answered the elf after some thought.

“Crab?”

“Count me out,” chuckled the head of the Stone-Cold Killers. “I don’t give a shit about you or your stones or any of this business.”

“As is your right. But if you attack our cities during the raid, we’ll declare war on you.”

“Oh, quit waving your dick around!” snorted Crab. “If I want to, I’ll attack you. And if I don’t, I won’t. What are you going to do about it, Roman? I’m only one Level 9 Dungeon away from reaching Level 10. I already have a key. If the shit goes down, me and my buddies will head to that Dungeon and sit it out until it’s over and you’ve sorted all your bullshit out without me. I can’t take the clan treasury with me to the next world, and I couldn’t give a shit about anything else. As far as the Selected are concerned, I like them. Any collectors who’ve managed to get all four clans up in arms in just six days deserve a little respect. You ought to be making a deal with them rather than fighting them. Each to his own, but you know that as well as I do.”

“I’ll make a deal with them, but from a position of strength.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake! Are you lot here?” came an unfamiliar voice that surprised all of them. The four clan heads turned around and froze, unable to believe their eyes. The far door of the VIP Lounge opened, and from out of the spa zone came the very trio they’d just been talking about. Roman frowned — the collectors were being escorted by the happy projection of the System that was constantly accompanying its wards. Six days had passed already, so that shouldn’t be happening.

“Good on them, what can I say?” laughed Crab.

“Stop right there, kitty! Achoo!” The human in the Selected immediately held out his hand as soon as Mirelle began to approach him. The felineer growled like a wild animal. Nobody would dare to call her kitty! Crab laughed even harder. He’d been right to head for the VIP Lounge a few hours after receiving the System’s notification — he had no desire to miss the show.

* * *

Our twelve hours went by in a flash. To be fair, we didn’t just use the spa, we also got some sleep in. On Vilion, that was proving a problem — we always had to run off somewhere and do something new. Grumbler, who had taken corporeal form, joined us. She explained that Little Bald didn’t exist as far as the external System was concerned, which was why we couldn’t bring him to the VIP Lounge. It was a shame — I wanted to treat our strike force to something nice too. He definitely deserved it.

Our time in the spa center was coming to an end. Stepping out into the main lounge, I frowned — suddenly there were new people in it.

“The heads of the great clans,” said Grumbler, earning her keep. I was hit by the memory of the effect the cat lady’s presence had on my allergies, so I had nothing better to say than:

“Oh, for Christ’s sake! Are you lot here?”

Three of the clan heads jumped to their feet. The one who remained seated laughed. The one covered in fur began stepping toward us. Lyra had said that her massage would only work once a week, so right there and then there was nothing to save me from my allergies. Realizing this, there was nothing I could but hold up my hand and say:

“Stop right there, kitty!”

Judging by the way the cat woman started thumping the floor with her tail, I’d made a faux pas, but I wasn’t bothered by niceties like that — my nose was itching terribly. Unable to contain myself, I covered my face with my hands and sneezed. Right, enough was enough! When we got back to the big world, I was going to scour the store for some kind of mask with a filter that would help my allergy. I couldn’t keep reacting like this to everything with fur. When there’s a problem, you need to find a solution.

“You…” growled the cat lady, but she stopped approaching us. Or, more accurately, she was stopped by the clan head who appeared human.

“That’s Roman,” said Grumbler helpfully, “and the cat lady is Mirelle.”

I really needed to work out a way of communicating with Grumbler back on Vilion. Even without access to the main database, she could be extremely useful. But time was short, and we literally only had a minute left in the comfort of the VIP Lounge, so I wasn’t going to waste it on thinking.

“Seeing as you’re all here,” I said, “I have to ask: why the hell did you decide to hunt us down? You even put a price on our heads. What the fuck?”

The heads of the clans probably weren’t used to being talked to like that. Only the one who’d stayed seat seemed to find it amusing, and he raised his glass in a toast. Yeah, screw him too.

“Selected,” said Roman, “I propose that you join the Best of the Best clan. We will get you everything you need and make your life on Vilion hassle-free.”

“Roman!” said both Mirelle and the weird-looking elf said indignantly. The fourth head laughed again — clearly, he was enjoying the proceedings.

“Not interested,” I answered, getting everyone including my group’s renewed attention. “We only have a minute left, so I’ll keep this short. Fuck knows why you’re after us, but there’s no time to find out now. You’ve been told that we have a gemstone mine. I’ve seen the prices at auction, and they’re considerable. If we see any of you encroaching on our territory, we’ll flood the market. We’ve got lots of stones. We don’t want to fight with anyone — we’ve only been in Vilion for six days and we just want to level ourselves up without any conflict. But we’re not going to back down either. You want to fight? No problem, let’s fight. You think we’re outnumbered and can’t do anything to you? Come and find…”

I didn’t get the chance to finish. The timer for our stay in the VIP Lounge ran out and we were returned to Vilion. In the twelve hours that we’d been away, the village of Urgan-Kan had been transformed. Almost everything that Little Bald had so eagerly put to flame had been restored. Steve hadn’t been sitting around either: he was charging all over the village, delivering vital instructions to the goblins, either with words or with his staff.

“Max,” said Lyra in an uncertain voice, “why did we refuse to join that clan?”

The elf girl really was getting smarter every day! She didn’t say “you refuse”, she said “we refuse”.

“Because they’re only interested in us for our gear, our stationary Dungeon, our village, and our gemstone mine,” I explained eagerly. “As soon as the clan takes all of that from us, they’ll send us off to some high-level dungeon where we can happily die.”

“Our gear?” Lyra took a step back in horror.

“Commander, why do you have such a low opinion of the heads of the clans?” asked Gor with a frown.

“Because they decided to hunt us down! And that wasn’t just empty words, they put up a huge amount of silirium. Then that smooth asshole comes along and offers us to join his clan. And it’s so unexpected that even the other heads are taken aback by his nerve. It’s obvious they were discussing something completely different. So, before they fuck us over, we tell them to go fuck themselves.”

“But there are only three of us…” said Lyra uncertainly. I interrupted her:

“There are five of us! How could you forget about Little Bald and Grumbler?”

“Meow!” said the dracat proudly, even though he had no idea what we were talking about.

“Steve, get over here!” I shouted, before the group could come up with any more questions. Sending yet another goblin flying with his purple staff, the gnome came over to us.

“You called, collector?”

“My lord,” I corrected him.

“What?” Steve’s eyebrows formed into a severe straight line.

“Call me my lord,” I explained. While the gnome was working out how to react to that, I set him a task: “So, give us a report on the village. What’s the population? What are they doing? How can they be of use to our Dungeon? What are their stocks of gemstones? And don’t forget about the mine — that’s what we’re most interested in. Off you go.”

“Yes…” Steve stuttered, but he managed to say it: “Yes, my lord. Here’s the situation…”

What can I say? We were very lucky. No, more than that, we were incredibly lucky. The village currently had a hundred and fifty goblins, and the average increase was fifty new bodies per month. The storehouses were empty — there hadn’t been any gemstones in them to start with, and Little Bald had successfully burned all the food. However, that wasn’t a problem, as the goblins were already out searching for food for themselves. As for the mine, it was multi-level, and there were currently two levels working out of god knows how many in total. Nobody had gone below the second level, as there were scary monsters down there that the village wasn’t strong enough to take on. Because of these monsters, the goblin population remained stable — they ate about as many goblins as were born every month. The first level produced on average ten gemstones per month, and the second thirty. However, they wouldn’t be producing them any time soon, as the last batch had been dispatched somewhere a couple of days earlier.

“Using the waystone?” I asked.

“Yes, curse it!” growled Steve. “I can’t do anything with that waystone. I’d break it if I was strong enough.”

“Why break it?”

“Because uninvited guests keep turning up! In the last twelve hours, we’ve had three inspection parties drop by! They had to be dealt with. It’s a good thing the goblins here obey me unconditionally, and that the inspectors were low-level. As soon as someone more serious comes along, we’ll be in trouble. They turn up every three hours. In fact, I’m expecting the next lot any minute. Damn, I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth!”

A young goblin was rushing headlong toward us, shouting at the top of his lungs. I couldn’t understand a word of what he was saying, but apparently his warbling meant something to Steve.

“We’re in trouble, my lord. They’ve come to take back the village.”

The goblins of the Pyramid of Sharaja have discovered that the village of Urgan-Kan is no longer under their control. If you wish to continue controlling this site, repel the attack!

“Lyra, shield up! Little Bald, get up in the air! Gor, invisibility!” I started issuing orders as soon as the message appeared. “Steve, we’re going to have a little battle here, so you tell your team to gather up all the bodies in one place and make a huge pile of all the useless items that nobody wants. Do you have any of those?”

“How would I? They’re goblins — they use absolutely everything.”

“Alright, forget about the items for now. All the bodies in one place, and we’ll deal with them later. Lyra, off you go! We need to find out who these important visitors are. Steve, can we rely on you in the fight?”

Judging by the way he shuddered, we’d be fighting without the newly appointed shaman. To hell with him! We headed for the mine, and we’d only taken twenty paces before the red dots appeared. Lots of them. The goblins around us dropped what they were doing and scattered in all directions to escape the “honored” guests.

“Goddammit!” I muttered, seeing the hand that fate had dealt us. The goblins who lived in the Pyramid of Sharaja weren’t messing around. They’d sent us a squad lead by a Level 6 monster. Level 6! That was eighteen different abilities if you counted auras. This goblin looked very different from the ones we’d encountered so far. He was dressed in beautiful chainmail armor with leather and metal plates, all of which glowed green, showing its rank. In his hands he held a sword and shield, both with a blue sheen. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how to beat a bastard like that! Level 6, Uncommon armor, Rare weapons, and no doubt he had something else up his sleeve too.

Pyramid of Sharaja Death Squad Commander, Level 6

A real monster, capable of taking on the whole village by himself. Except that he hadn’t come alone — he had a dozen assistants with them. True, their level was lower, only Level 4, but that didn’t make them any less dangerous. Judging by the fact that all of them were carrying swords, there weren’t any archers or mages among them. That was probably a good thing, but I didn’t see much good in it right then.

Pyramid of Sharaja Death Squad Warrior, Level 4

My battle plan came to me almost instantaneously. There was no way we could beat these monsters in open battle. But then, who said we had to have an open battle? Especially when there was an awesome location right next to us.

“Lyra, aura! Little Bald, as soon as anyone comes near us, open fire! Everyone, we’re moving right! We need to reach the mine.”

Nobody had any questions. Life’s always easier when you have clear orders. Making a wide arc, we began to circle around the army that had appeared in our village. The death squad goblins were in no hurry. They’d already worked out who was disturbing the peace, so now they were just deciding on how to deal with us. We weren’t running away and we weren’t attacking. The fact that we were making a circle toward the mine was great news — they wouldn’t have to run so far.

“Lyra, how often can you use Shield Strike?”

“Once every three seconds,” she said, making me frown in disappointment. That was a long time. Too long.

“While we’re moving, open up the properties of your pants. We need to find a property that reduces the cooldown rate of abilities. Anything that can get it down to one second. It’s important!”

“Got it. Want me to show you?”

“No, you do it yourself.” I was aiming at the goblins, but I held my fire. I knew that, as soon as the battle started, there’d be no time left to examine the pants. Every second counted, so we needed to use our time sparingly.

“Ready!” said Lyra, literally only ten seconds later. “Will that do?”

Excellent Gnome Pants

Rank: Rare

Additional property: Accelerated Recovery

Additional property: Impatient

Additional property: Enhanced Recovery Protection

Accelerated Recovery: Cooldown time of properties is reduced by a third.

Impatient: When cooldown time of a property is greater than 1 second, it is reduced by 1 second. When cooldown time of a property is less than 1 second, it is increased by 1 second.

Enhanced Recovery Protection: After a property with a cooldown time is used, a protective field appears around the user, absorbing minor damage (shield required)

Amazing — nothing to do with attractiveness at all! Lyra had clearly understood what we were up against and had even condescended to do some thinking. She’d even added some protection, as if she’d already understood how I was planning to use her. Finally, we reached the point we were aiming for and stopped next to the mine. As I’d been able to see from the map, it was actually more like a huge quarry than a mine. The bottom of the vast hole in the ground wasn’t visible — it was buried in a thick fog somewhere far below. The two floors accessible to the local goblins were clearly marked — they were situated one on top of the other, divided by a wide stone band that the goblins could only get through in two places. As we would have time to appreciate later, it was a normal quarry, but with caves where the valuable resources were mined. Occasionally, a happy goblin would pop out of one of the caves to show off what it had found — another precious stone. What came out of the caves more often, however, were monsters. These I was able to see straight away. What’s more, there were many more of them on the second floor than on the first, and the third was absolutely crawling with them. Taking a closer look at one them, I read the following:

Quarry Bloodsucker, Level 5

Excellent! The monsters had been living on the third level for some time, so they’d managed to reach their maximum potential. That was great for my plan.

Looking around, I also saw the waystone. It was a huge arch that looked like the portal we’d entered the stationary Dungeon through. A thing like that was bound to weigh a ton, so we’d soon have to deal with the problem of how to get the waystone back to the gnomes. It was too big even for Gor to carry.

“What now, commander?” asked Lyra. Clearly, she was terrified — not only had she made excellent choices, she’d even called me “commander”. For her, that must have been nigh on impossible.

“Now?” I snorted, pulling the trigger. The crossbow bolt shot away, and one of the Level 4 death squad goblin’s lives came to a sudden end. I hadn’t been trying to hit the commander. I was sure he had all kinds of different defenses that my crossbow wouldn’t be able to penetrate. All it would do was make him angry.

“We’re using the same plan as when we dealt with those fire slugs! Except this time, it’s goblins instead of slugs, and instead of the river we’ve got a huge quarry with powerful monsters in it. Get ready!”

As I’d expected, as soon as I fired, the goblins sprang to life. The commander activated several auras, none of which looked pleasant, then pointed in our direction with his sword that flashed blue. Nine whooping fighters rushed towards us, threatening to cut us down. They immediately began to activate their abilities — each of them had twelve, so it would be dumb to expect them not to use something nasty on us. Lightning, black smoke, and some poisonous-looking green gas all came floating in our direction but didn’t reach us yet. We were too far away. That didn’t stop the goblins, however. They kept firing, approaching us with the confidence of an armored rhino. Like their leader, they were all dressed in chainmail armor, although the quality of theirs was significantly inferior — clearly Common, if not outright Junk. As I’d come to understand, gear was in short supply on Vilion. Only elite creatures had the good stuff.

“Retreat,” I ordered, making everyone step slowly back. We reached the very edge of the quarry. Around ten yards below us, the goblin collectors of the first floor were crowding around. They’d raised their heads and were staring with interest, trying to catch sight of the strange scene developing above.

“I’m off!” said Lyra unexpectedly, activating her Shield Strike. However, the elf girl didn’t go flying into the death squad goblins that were running toward us. She shot just to one side of them, so that the goblins would end up between her and the quarry. This strange maneuver confused the death squad. They slowed down, unsure what to do. And they paid for their confusion. Lyra activated Shield Strike again, slamming into the most powerful goblin. Auras, protections, and armor mean nothing when an enhanced shield crashes into you at high speed. The death squad goblin didn’t even have time to react. He went flying off over the edge. We heard his receding scream, followed by an ugly crunch, and then the angry squeals of the quarry bloodsuckers.

“Now it’s our turn, Gor,” I said, finally aiming my crossbow again. Before the goblins could get their wits about them, I sent another bolt flying. As our raid leader in computer games always said, deal with the trash first, then move on to the boss. It was excellent advice. Another goblin slumped to the ground. His companions flailed with their swords, trying in any way to strike Lyra as she shot between them, but wherever their blades fell, she was already somewhere else. She activated Shield Strike again and flew off toward some inconspicuous stone. Turning sharply, she began to select her next target. We couldn’t let the goblins work out how to defend themselves against her attack.

“Little Bald, they’re swordsmen! Get bombing!” I hurled the dracat into the air and felt a happy grin spreading across my face. Despite their level and their numbers, this trash was no opponent for us. Well, well, we’d have to see what that metal-clad Level 6 commander was capable of. I had my eye on his shield. It was rare, with three properties. I’m sure Lyra could turn it into an excellent pink accessory with flowers on it. All we had to do now was deal with the trash and move on to the boss. We would not be giving up our village today!

Chapter 9

BASICALLY, WHAT CAN I SAY? We’d turned into an excellent team. We were effective. Really fucking effective!

Just as the fourth member of the goblin death squad flew with a bloodcurdling scream to his date with the quarry bloodsuckers, Little Bald began his bombing raid.

Piaow! Piaow! Piaow!

The happy sound of the dracat spitting came from the sky, creating a fiery hell among the goblins. However, it immediately became clear that Level 4 beasts were Level 4 for a reason, and definitely not Level 3, if you see what I’m getting at.

Even a direct hit with one of Little Bald’s fireballs wouldn’t kill one of the goblins immediately, to say nothing of the shots that landed next to them. However, on the plus side, the goblins all burned well. And, judging by their shrieks, they weren’t having fun anymore. They were suffering, which was fun for us.

I fired again with my crossbow…

“Headshot, motherfucker!!” I shouted enthusiastically when the goblin target dropped to the ground dead. Soon after, two more followed him to the floor, although they remained very much alive.

“No shit!” I said in appreciation of Gor’s unexpected tactic.

I’d like to say the big man flew like a butterfly over the battlefield and stung like bee, but that wasn’t quite right… I don’t know where he got his moves from, but it was funny to watch. Bent over almost double, the massive char-ra moved sideways like a crab, his long arms stretched out left and right. In this crouching pose, he scampered among the burning bodies, slicing the tendons behind the knees of two of the goblins. He scampered toward another of them, and unsurprisingly was met with a club to the head. Gor fell on his ass, stunned, only to be replaced by Lyra.

Bam!

One more goblin flew down to see the bloodsuckers. Lyra used her healing to bring Gor back to his senses, and together they ran back to me. So, what did we have left? What we had was two burning goblins, wounded and no longer able to walk, and two other goblins that were on fire but still running.

“You take the one on the left, the one on the right’s mine,” I said as I aimed my crossbow.

My weapon didn’t let me down, but this time Lyra misjudged her trajectory, and the goblin just flew off into the distance, missing the quarry. Still, Gor went scurrying crab-like after him, and a second later his dying wail let us know that none of the goblin death squad was fit for battle anymore.

All that remained was their commander. A very pissed commander, by all accounts. On the other hand, as I’d come to realize, that was the natural state of any idiot that tried to get in the way of the Selected.

“Let’s encircle him! Gor, try to creep up behind him,” I shouted, and all my fighters sprang into action. As usual, I loaded my crossbow, aimed and fired.

And my bolt was knocked aside, landing straight onto the goblin’s shield.

There was a sound like clucking or some kind of ugly rasping… It took me a while to realize that it was the commander of the death squad laughing.

“You bastard!” I said, giving vent to my fury. “Little Bald, shoot him up!”

The dracat didn’t need asking twice.

Piaow! Piaow! Piaow!

A column of dust and fire rose in the place where the goblin had been standing. The game was up!

“Little Bald, that’s enough!” My frugal nature came to the fore, and the dracat stopped spitting fire.

Except… I heard that hideous sound again, and from out of the clouds of smoke, a little singed but still full of heath, came the goblin commander, grinning to show all his hideous teeth.

Then something completely unimaginable happened. The goblin raised his sword and pointed into the sky, straight to where Little Bald was hovering far above him. The dracat mewled pitifully, staggered, and appeared to be knocked sideways, dropping out of the sky and out of the battle far in the distance.

“He killed Little Bald!” roared Lyra, activating Shield Strike.

Again, the result was… strange. I’d expected to watch the goblin tumble to the ground, but the exact opposite happened. It was like Lyra slammed into a solid brick wall. There was a loud BAM as she reached her target, then a stunned Lyra rolled away along the ground, swearing loudly in elven.

“I’ll get him, commander!” Gor’s silhouette flickered and the big man, still cosplaying a crab, tried to creep up behind the goblin.

Except the goblin had no trouble seeing my massive assassin and, when Gor had got very close to him, he activated his own version of our beloved Shield Strike. Gor went on an epic flight. It was a good thing the goblin hadn’t thought to repeat our trick and send the big man down to meet the bloodsuckers. Instead, Gor just soared over my head and went crashing to the ground.

Hmm… Level 4 wasn’t Level 3, and Level 6 was something else all together. These deep and meaningful thoughts got me scared, but what really terrified me was the sight of the goblin that was now heading in my direction, still laughing, and now in additions beating his shield with the flat of his sword as he marched.

Bam! Step… Bam! Step… Bam! Step…

If he wanted to frighten me, he’d almost managed it. I looked around desperately. In the distance, Little Bald was mewling pitifully. Lyra was on all fours, shaking her head. Gor was flat on his back, his limbs twitching like a big ladybird. None of them were in any state to come back to the fight.

Think, Max, think! I fired off another bolt at the goblin, and once again the bastard moved his shield at lightning speed to intercept it. He couldn’t be set on fire, he could stop crossbow bolts with his shield, and Lyra couldn’t knock him off his feet. If only the bastard would just choke on something. Wait a second…

Smothering Vine!

Now, that was interesting. Brown roots shot out of the ground, twining around the advancing goblin. The effect time claimed by the System was thirty seconds, but apparently that was against an equally matched opponent. The goblin was much stronger. Still, he stopped laughing and appeared to get angry. With a roar, he began to tear at the plant that was twining around him, and I was happy to see that, in a few places where armor didn’t cover his body, trickles of black blood were beginning to appear. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t expecting that to kill the goblin… Well, certainly not before he killed me.

No, there was something else that I was really interested in.

The goblin tore himself away from the clinging vines and continued to advance toward me, but not so fast…

Smothering Vine!

Shoots came flying out of the ground again, and again the goblin started to tear at them. However… Immediately, two of the plant’s agile branches were trying to pin the goblin’s left arm — the one that held his shield — to his side. It wasn’t going to work, because the bastard was too strong. But then, I didn’t need it to work completely.

I fired my crossbow, and the goblin’s furious scream was my reward. The death squad commander could no longer lift his shield so fast, so my bolt was able to find its way through a gap in his armor at his shoulder, making his left arm even less mobile.

“Max, I’m coming!” shrieked Lyra.

“Stop, you idiot!” I shouted back and, amazingly, the elf girl did as she was told.

I saw the goblin’s body begin flare up with some kind of green-tinged aura that I took an instant dislike to. I had no idea what it was, but all my senses told me there was nothing good about it. Plus, a terrible stench suddenly filled the air.

“Ew!” said Lyra, screwing up her face and automatically closing her nose with her fingers.

“So, you stink too!” I laughed. What was a little stench for someone with allergies like mine? Nothing but a mild inconvenience.

Smothering Vine!

Another crossbow bolt went flying at the stinky commander. Once again, he was too slow to stop it. This time, the bolt hit his right shoulder. The goblin roared again and raised his sword with an unsteady hand, moving to point it in my direction. I was a fast learner, however, and I’d seen what happened to Little Bald, which was why I quickly rolled to my right. Behind me, the air hummed. Whatever invisible force the goblin had sent my way, he’d missed.

“Lyra, no Shield Strike! When the vine appears, lay into that asshole with your sword and aura!”

Smothering Vine!

Another crossbow bolt knocked the goblin’s helmet off, and suddenly the elf girl came dashing in from one side, wielding her sword ferociously. Her Lightning Shield was already activated, and when the electric shocks reached him, the goblin began to twitch like an epileptic.

However, even with two injured arms and a bleeding head, he still tried to turn and face Lyra with his sword.

A mighty roar came from the other side of the goblin. It was Gor. Forsaking his crab style, he flew as fast as he could to Lyra’s rescue, raising his knives to strike. I reloaded my trusty crossbow…

Smothering Vine!

Basically, that’s how we took the bastard down, although he still had a couple more surprises up his sleeve. One of them was the same invisible strike he’d used on Little Bald, except this time it dealt blanket damage, spreading out from the goblin’s body on all sides. Perhaps for that reason, it wasn’t as powerful, and all it did was knock my fighters off their feet. Smothering Vine gave everyone a few seconds to get back up again and continue with their vital mission.

The other unpleasant surprise came when the already half-dead goblin pushed off from the ground and made an epic leap over Gor’s head in my direction. I decided to call the move Final Leap, and that was exactly how it turned out. As soon as he landed in front of me, I was able to fire one more bolt straight into his eye, and his dead body dropped to one side, wafting the last of his active auras directly at me. They hit me so hard that I lost the power of speech — if that bastard had got to me while they were still fully active, the Selected would definitely have been down one highly-talented leader.

“Shi-i-it,” I finally said, and sat down on my ass. I was shaking with excitement and I understood that we had come very close to defeat. If there’d been two of those commanders, that would’ve been the end. No secret weapon would’ve saved us. Talking of secret weapons…

“Little Bald, goddammit!” I pulled myself up and began running in the direction of my downed pet.

The dracat was lying on the ground, mewling pitifully. I carefully lifted him up in my arms and began a thorough examination.

“Meow!” he squealed when I touched his right wing.

“Lyra!” I shouted — the little one was in pain.

First aid in the form of the gorgeous elf girl arrived in a matter of seconds. Before I could say anything, Lyra had activated her healing, and I watched as a rosy glow was restored to Little Bald’s deathly pale skin.

“Meow!” said the dracat and tried to stick his head between his legs. His pants got in the way, however, and he didn’t try to press the issue.

“Little Bald, you want something to eat?” I reached into my bag and pulled out some dried meat.

Little Bald always wanted to eat, so he tucked in happily. Watching him, I suddenly realized how fond I was of the hideous little freak. In my previous life, I’d made peace with the idea that I’d never have a pet of my own, but just look at us now!

Looking back at my past life, I could also see that I hadn’t actually had many friends either. Colleagues and drinking buddies, sure. And of course, there was my ex. How on earth had I ended up with that miserable cow? It was like my entire past life had just been preparing me for this adventure. I realized that I had genuinely begun to value every member of my little team, including my bald cat.

I lifted him up in my arms despite his unhappy expression and checked him again from all sides.

“I guess he’s okay,” I said, turning to Lyra. “What do you think?”

“He’s not going to get any better,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. There was an unhappy note to her voice.

“So, what’s up with you, then?”

She sighed sadly, looking at the dead goblin.

“It’s just it turns out we’re not the biggest stars in this show.”

“Hmm,” I said thoughtfully, “that’s an odd way of putting it, but I get what you mean. Still, if it’s hard for us, just look at Gor.”

She turned around and looked in the direction I was pointing. Back on earth, there was a famous statue called The Thinker. I’d never seen it in real life, but if any of us had any sculpting talent, we could’ve made a perfect copy of it using Gor as a model. The big man was sitting in that thoughtful pose, and apparently he was miserable.

Sliding the dracat around my neck, I went over to Gor and clapped him on the back.

“Why the long face, fighter? Look what a lovely monster we’ve taken down,” I said, nodding at the goblin commander.

“Gor is useless, commander,” said the char-ra, singing his habitual tune.

I was getting a little tired of this, so instead of saying anything, I just slapped him on the back of the head. Gor cried out in surprise. At least he didn’t look miserable anymore. On the other hand, my palm was stinging like I’d just hit a real stone statue.

“What was that for, commander?” the big man asked, taking offense.

“For your dumb thoughts. You need to think positive.”

I remembered something I’d heard on a training course about effective management that my department had been forced to attend twice a year. It was all bullshit, but now felt like a good time to do some teambuilding, and I had to start somewhere. A smack on the head could be teambuilding too, couldn’t it?

“Look,” I said, pointing my finger commandingly so that Gor would turn his head, “that’s a Level 6 monster, and we’re only Level 3. But we still beat him.”

“It was you that beat him,” said Gor, about to moan again. I made a swinging gesture with my hand, and he slumped his head into his shoulders. “Alright, alright, I get it — we beat him.”

I sighed heavily.

“You guys are going to take a lot of work. A depressive assassin, a beautiful warrior woman, and a common or garden hero — by which I mean me,” I smiled sadly, looking around.

“Meow!” said Little Bald from my shoulder, reminding me of my presence.

“Yes, yes, and the one and only fire-breathing cat,” I said, stroking his head.

“Meow!” he repeated, this time as if to say, “Yup, that’s me!”

I took in our surroundings and noticed that the goblins were gradually crawling out of their hiding places. Spotting the new village head among the goblins by the purple glow, I waved at him to come over.

“You did a great job, col…” said Steve, then corrected himself: “I mean, my lord. It was a legendary battle!”

“Yup, I agree. But here’s the thing, Steve, we’re going to take the waystone away from your village.”

“But wait, col… oh.. my lord. That will really limit our capabilities.” Steve had suddenly transformed into a thrifty landlord.

“I think I made the right choice when I appointed you head of this village — you won’t let a single stone slip through your greedy hands. However, if we remove the waystone, you won’t have to worry about any more visits from overfriendly neighbors,” I explained, nodding to the dead goblin commander.

It looked like Steve was getting the picture.

“Alright, but what about trade? What about developing the village?”

“Trade and developing the village — you’re getting way ahead of yourself there, Steve. For now, development of the village will be strictly tied to logistics at the main base where the waystone will be delivered to. And you have to organize the delivery.

“Delivery?” Steve turned to look at the goblins swarming around us.

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, my lord, we’ll deliver it. It’s just that, now I’m head of the village, how do I know that my own kind won’t want to kill me?”

“They won’t,” I said, smiling. I realized now that Steve was just scared. That wasn’t such a bad quality for the head of our village either. He wouldn’t be getting involved in any adventures behind our backs. “Martha’s the one in charge there now. Do you know her?”

“Of course I do,” said Steve, perking up.

“And Martha has Carl,” I continued, checking for his reaction. Steve’s enthusiasm suddenly waned. His mood was fluctuating wildly. A second later, he looked at me thoughtfully.

“But wait, I’ve got a name now too, haven’t I? And that means I can take a shot at Martha.”

I burst out laughing.

“I guess so. I don’t know much about the mating rituals of gnomes. Anyway, one thing at a time.”

“Can we deliver the stone now?” asked Steve, looking at me eagerly.

“No, there’s two more things. First, collect all the equipment from these goblins, take it into a cave, and wait for my return. Steve, you’re personally responsible for ensuring that Martha doesn’t get her greedy hands on any of it.”

“But she’s the matriarch. What if she gives me a direct order.”

“Well, I’m the lord. I can give orders too, even better than she can! If, God forbid, you lose one single shitty sword, I’ll demote you. You’ll be Martha’s errand boy again. I’ll take your name away, and you can say goodbye to all your dreams of a big family and lots of little gnome kiddies running around. Got it?”

“Got it, my lord.” I saw the determination I’d been waiting for in Steve’s eyes. I doubted that he’d give anything at all to his big fat love now, which was just how I wanted it.

“So, can we get going?” he asked again.

“You’re so impatient! No, not yet. We’re just going to take a couple of things for ourselves, then we’ll leave. After that, you can be on your way.”

“Where are we going?” asked Lyra.

“Where do you think? These assholes came from the Pyramid of Sharaja. I’d like to see what that Level 11 pyramid is exactly. Aren’t you interested too?” I asked my companions, who’d suddenly got depressed.

“Meow!” said Little Bald on their behalf. I think he was trying to say that they weren’t remotely interested.

“Well, we’re still going to do what I say.”

Finally, I examined the body of the goblin commander. He only had two Rare items, but they were good ones. A shield and a sword — exactly what our berserker needed. Lyra looked thoughtfully at her pretty pink shield and the big dirty shield of the goblin.

Terrible Goblin Shield

Rank: Rare

Additional property: Hidden

Additional property: Hidden

Additional property: Hidden

The look of sadness in her eyes was so touching that I couldn’t help myself:

“You can use one property for beauty and make it nice and pink too.”

“Oh, thanks, Max!” she squealed happily, but then grew thoughtful again. “But that’ll make a difference to my combat effectiveness.”

“Well, I’ll be damned! Look at the clever words you’ve been learning.”

“Max, I’m not an idiot,” she said, pouting angrily.

“Yes, I know. But your commander officially gives you permission. Let me worry about the squad’s effectiveness — that’s my prerogative.”

“That’s true,” she agreed.

After a second, the shield flashed. I looked at it and was pleasantly surprised to see its new properties. Not only the name had changed, but also the form and even the color.

Terribly Beautiful Goblin Shield

Rank: Rare

Additional Property: Beautifully Tough

Additional Property: Enhanced Shield Strike

Additional Property: Shock Therapy

Beautifully Tough: This shield is so beautiful that the gods themselves made it tougher to make sure that such an exquisite work of art could not easily be destroyed.

Enhanced Shield Strike: Are you lacking the strength to knock down a more powerful opponent? No worries, your super strike will now have extra force. May all your enemies tremble before you!

Shock Therapy: You can’t have too much lightning! Knock your enemy down, then strike them with lightning. What are they gonna do about it?

“Not bad, not bad,” I told Lyra admiringly. It looked like Lyra had developed a deeper understanding of how to choose properties. Or possibly the System had taken mercy on us, now it was making it possible to add the more useful property of “toughness” to the beauty option. Also, the description of the properties had become a little more… well… lively, hadn’t it?

“What about the sword?” Lyra asked.

“As for the sword…” I scratched my head, looking at the dead goblins. The village goblins — my new subjects — were already beginning to collect up the Level 4s, but nobody had come anywhere near the Level 6 yet. They were waiting for us to finish. I was trying to work out what our tactics should be in future. At first, I’d thought the death squad commander was completely immune to magic, seeing how easily he’d survived Little Bald’s fiery attack. But then I’d seen how he’d been shaken by Lyra’s lightning. Perhaps here, as in normal games, characters had resistance to particular types of magic. It was probably a good thing Lyra had added a little more electricity to her gear. We’d find out soon enough, no doubt.

“We’ll wait a bit before we decide what to do with the sword. I’ll hold onto it for now — my Junk one is no use at all in close combat. We’ll work it out later.”

It was a pity Grumbler couldn’t help us. Also, I had no idea what to do with Little Bald. Our main strike force was no use against Level 6s. On the other hand, he’d cooked the Level 4s to perfection. He needed enhancements, and powerful ones at that. But where would we get them? Fuck knows! We’ll work it out as we go along. Time to get out there and excel!

Chapter 10

WHY DID I THINK that the best place to excel was the Pyramid of Sharaja? Well, apart from the fact that I was wildly curious to find out what the hell that thing was — one of only three Level 11 Dungeons in this world? Most of all, what I wanted at that moment was to level up my group as fast as possible. The higher the level of the Dungeon, the faster we’d gain experience. Provided we didn’t die from the speed.

“Steve!” I shouted at the gnome, who was still lurking nearby, “Bring me all the gemstones in the village.”

“But the storehouses are empty,” muttered the cunning gnome.

“I know, but I don’t believe there’s not a single goblin that hasn’t stashed away a couple for themselves. And yes, your next task will be to crack down on stealing.”

“And cut their heads off!” said Steve decisively.

“Wait, why their heads?” I said, a little taken aback.

“Alright, their hands then,” suggested the bloodthirsty gnome.

“Are you a complete idiot? How are they going to work without hands?”

“Maybe one hand then?”

“Christ, you’re useless. Just give them a good thrashing with sticks. But make sure they can still work.”

“Oh, alright,” said Steve thoughtfully. He looked lovingly at his staff and gave an evil grin.

“Get to it,” I told him with a commanding wave of my hand. Steve ran off to sniff out the goblin thieves.

He and two of his assistants dashed around among his green underlings, then there was a brief altercation. Judging by the way Steve grabbed one of the goblins by the foot, lifted him up into the air and began to shake him, I realized that peaceful negotiations had broken down. Nonetheless, ten minutes later they brought us a little pile of gemstones — two or three dozen by the look of it. From their appearance, it wasn’t hard to guess where exactly the goblins had been hiding them.

“Goddammit,” I said, just as I was about to take them from Steve. I changed my mind and pointed to the ground. “Put them down there. Carefully.”

Steve obediently placed the gemstones on the ground.

“Everyone, get back!” I ordered, then turned to Little Bald: “Well, Mr. Bald, would you be so kind as to disinfect them?”

Piaow!

The fire scorched the stones, burning away all the shit on them.

I carefully poured water from my flask over them, then picked them up and carried them to the nearest stream, where I washed them thoroughly. Now they were practically sterilized.

“Max, what about human rights?” asked Lyra, coming up behind me.

“Where do you see any humans around here?”

“Well, elf rights, then.”

“You’re the only elf here. Are your rights being violated?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head.

“See? We’ve got one char-ra too. His rights aren’t being violated either, are they, Gor?”

“They’re not, commander.”

“As for our lovely Little Bald, he’s having the time of his life.”

“Meow!” said the dracat in agreement.

“So, the only rights that are being infringed are goblin rights. Well, maybe gnome rights ever so slightly too,” I giggled. “And considering the pain in the butt they’ve been for us, a little educational therapy won’t hurt them.”

“Agreed,” nodded Lyra.

“Great! Well, that ends today’s minute of democracy. So, Steve, you know how to get to our Dungeon, don’t you?”

“Of course, my lord.”

I pulled out the map.

“Look, go this way,” I pointed out the route we’d taken, which was now theoretically safe. “You’ll need about a day. In a day’s time, me and my team will be back, and I want the waystone at the Dungeon by then. Got it? Let’s hope you do, or I’ll take your name away.”

“I’ve got it, my lord. It will be done,” said Steve earnestly.

“Well, that’s great, then. We’re off to the Pyramid of Sharaja.”

“Maybe we don’t have to, Max?” Lyra tried again to dissuade me.

“We do, baby, we do. Now we just have to find out how this waystone works.”

I went over to it and put my hand on it. Immediately, a System notification appeared in front of my eyes:

Attention! Waystone of Gnome Dungeon ХS-4715… Error… Error. Connection with Gnome Dungeon lost. New identification: Waystone of Goblin Miner Village XB-1247. Available directions and destinations:

1. Cave of Wailing Spirits

2. Forest of Night Mists

3. Pyramid of Sharaja

“We’d like to travel to the third destination, please,” I said politely, and a new notification appeared.

Attention! Group of collectors named the Selected, your chosen location is significantly higher than your current level. Without additional protection, it may be fatally dangerous

“Oh, of course, protection,” I said, giving each of the group a gemstone. I thought again and added four more. “Swallow them!”

“But Max,” said Lyra, about to protest.

“They’re clean, get over it.”

One by one, we gulped down the gemstones.

“So,” I said, “the plan is incredibly simple. Before we transfer, Lyra activates her aura. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Basically, that’s the whole plan. Right, Steve, don’t let us down now,” I said, frowning fiercely at the gnome. “Otherwise…”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll take away my name, I remember,” he said, already quite casually. “Don’t worry, my lord, we’ll do everything perfectly.”

Nodding, I took Lyra by the hand and strode into the shimmering film.

Again, there was a second of darkness, just the same as in our portal in the Dungeon. The light vanished for a second, it got colder, and as soon as that passed, the System made its presence known:

Attention! You are now in the vestibule of the Pyramid of Sharaja. This level is equivalent to the maximum fifth level of the surrounding world. Attention! This is fatally dangerous for you!

The System displayed its warning in big, bright red letters, so it took me a second to realize I was standing face to face with two goblins who, apparently, hadn’t expected to see me there either. Fortunately, my reactions were faster than theirs. In my left hand I was holding my loaded crossbow, which I used to fire at almost point-blank range into the eye of the goblin on the left. In my right hand was my sword, and I slashed with it at the neck of the second goblin. The one on the left died — my crossbow really was imba — but my sword with its still hidden properties wasn’t enough to cut off the other goblin’s head. He opened his mouth to scream, but then Gor appeared on my right. The double blow from his daggers finished the goblin off successfully. I looked around to take stock of my situation and… shi-i-it.

There were a lot of shocked goblins gaping at me. A shitload. Scattered around the portal were endless rundown goblin shacks. Here and there were bonfires burning. Judging by the smell, something was cooking. At a rough guess, there were a couple of hundred goblins gawking at us at that moment.

“Goddammit,” I muttered. Only then did I realize that I didn’t actually feel too good. Not too bad either, though. The effect of Level 5 was apparently suppressed by the five gemstones we’d swallowed and Lyra’s aura. However, it didn’t look like we were going to be able to stay in this relatively comfortable environment.

I looked around nervously and saw a large stone arch with steps going down. So, that was the proper entrance to the Pyramid of Sharaja. What was all this “vestibule” nonsense?

“Follow me!” I shouted to the group. The goblins all threw their arms up and yelled so loud that my ears popped. However, the way before us was clear, so we ran for it.

For a second, I was stopped by the treacherous thought: what had I been expecting when I teleported straight into the enemy camp? I quickly had a logical answer, though: not a full-fledged goblin village, that’s for sure. In any case, it was too late to do anything about it now. There were too many immediate problems to deal with.

We got through the arc and went charging down the steps. That was when I was really overcome by the effects.

Attention! Group of collectors named the Selected, congratulations! You are the first collectors to enter the Pyramid of Sharaja Dungeon. Your deeds are great and may be considered a true feat! News of it has been spread throughout the world. Every collector should hear about the heroes in their midst.

You have unlocked the Pyramid of Sharaja quest chain.

The first quest in the chain is Survival Order:

Remain inside the pyramid for 24 hours without anyone dying.

Once again, nobody asked me, but the quest was accepted automatically. Meanwhile, my brain was being pounded from all sides — genuinely pounded. A new notification followed soon after:

Attention! Level 11 Radiation. Collectors, leave the danger zone immediately or take precautionary measures.

“Well, we can’t leave her right now, can we? However, we can take some measures…” I reached into my pocket, took out the gemstones, put a few in my mouth and stretched out my palm to the others. “Eat some of these.”

I didn’t have to ask twice. Lyra and Gor were suffering as much as I was. When the third stone went down, I clenched my fist and tried to assess how I felt.

“Max, I still don’t feel too good,” said Lyra.

“You’re not supposed to,” I said, still monitoring my state. “If we completely neutralize the effects of the auras, we won’t get any experience. Look at the XP bar. See it moving?”

“I do!” said Lyra happily. What she could see was that, after literally just a few seconds in the Dungeon, the bar had noticeably moved, something it hadn’t done in several days. It showed that my plan was working.

I suddenly remembered that there were goblins chasing after us.

“Prepare for attack!” I said, turning back toward the entrance. My friends understood exactly what I wanted from them, but… none of the goblins were in a rush to follow us. They weren’t idiots and they didn’t want to die.

“Meow?” said Little Bald in a strange, croaking voice. I realized I hadn’t given him any gemstones. I remembered how, in a few films, I’d seen the moment where a vet tries to get tablets into a cat’s mouth, so I got ready to perform another amazing feat. No doubt the System would be no less impressed than by our entry into the Pyramid of Sharaja. To my surprise, however, Little Bald took his medicine just fine. As soon as gemstone was in his mouth, he turned the solid crystal into dust and swallowed it with ease. Once he’d chomped up three stones, he started to look at me thoughtfully. I squinted and saw that, unlike us, his Level 3 XP bar was completely full and was pushing toward Level 4, but for some reason couldn’t move any further.

“What’s up with his level?” I asked myself. But the local System on this world was friendlier than the external one. She was happy to communicate, and I immediately received an explanation:

A pet’s level cannot be higher than that of its collector. Collector Max, you must reach Level 4 yourself before your pet can level up.

“Pity,” I said, looking around properly for the first time to take stock of our situation.

What I saw was strikingly different from our Dungeon. In our Dungeon, the passages had been cut into the rock more or less professionally only on the lower levels. Here, however, it was clear that true craftsmen had done the work. Massive granite slabs worn by time formed the floor, while the walls were covered with engravings. I couldn’t quite make out what was engraved on the ceilings, as the light was dim. However, unlike in our Dungeon, where we only had glowing fungi, there was real light here — the walls were lined with torches that burned with a strange yellow glow.

“Hmm,” I said as I went over to one of them. I was intrigued by the fact I didn’t see any smoke. Carefully, I brought my hand close to the flame, but I couldn’t feel any heat. I ran my hand through it and felt nothing either.

“The sun’s shining, but there’s no heat,” I said thoughtfully. “It’s a miracle!” Then, unable to resist, I puffed at the flame energetically.

As expected, the flame didn’t even flicker. It had to be a hologram or something similar. In any case, whatever it was, it gave light, and for that I was grateful. After our adventures on the bottom floor of our dungeon, I’d had quite enough of feeling my way around in the dark.

“What are we going to do, Max?”

“Well… the most logical thing would be to just sit here and not go anywhere for twenty-four hours to complete the quest, then leg it back past the goblins to the portal. What do you think of that plan?”

Lyra screwed up her nose: “I’m not sure the goblins are going to let us “leg it” out of here.”

“I’m absolutely certain they won’t. But I hope that in twenty-four hours we’ll be a little stronger. Also, we don’t really have a choice. In case you’ve forgotten, in only two and a half days our dungeon will blow up without an engineer, and we still don’t know where to look for one.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, Max,” said Lyra, adopting the pose and expression of a strict schoolteacher, “I’m not sure your course of action was very responsible. You should have sorted out the engineer business before you came here.”

“Wow, you’ve changed,” I said admiringly. “Aren’t you bothered by the fact the leading clans are hunting for us? And we’re just an unfortunate little group that could barely deal with a Level 6. No, I wasn’t expecting the System would set us up like that by telling the whole world where we are right now, but sooner or later they would’ve found us anyway. On the other hand, it’ll be a kind of disinformation. If the squads sent out by the leading clans are lurking around somewhere in the area, they’ll probably make their way to the pyramid and wait for us near the exit. We’ll come out right under their noses and run straight into our own Dungeon. Hopefully, we’ll have leveled up a bit too.”

“An excellent plan, commander,” said Gor approvingly.

“See?” I said, nodding to the big man. “Gor believes in me.”

“I believe in you too, Max,” said Lyra, “but I’d still have done it differently.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, when you become the commander of another group, you can do it differently.

“I don’t want another group!” said Lyra sharply, and a look of fear crossed her face. “Are you trying to kick me out?”

“You should be so lucky! Max quit smoking, Max quit drinking, but Max isn’t going to quit on you.”

I sat down on the floor and all my friends sat down around me. We sat like that for a quarter of an hour, ate and drank a little, and then something began to itch, specifically my butt. There was an entire unexplored location before us and over twenty-three hours to fill. Was I really going to do the sensible thing and sit there by the exit for the remaining time? Of course not.

“Right, I can’t keep this up any longer,” I said, getting to my feet. “Let’s take a little stroll and see what’s going on around here.”

“But Max, you said…” Lyra began, but then she saw my expression and stopped herself. “Whatever you say, commander.”

“Well done, you learn fast. Let’s go. Gor, you go first and use your stealth. If you see an enemy, come and report back.”

“You mean a superior enemy, commander?” said the super-tough char-ra.

“Gor, it’s pretty obvious that all the enemies in this dungeon are going to be superior. So, as soon as you see any enemy, get back here fast. And try to make sure they don’t notice you, alright?”

“Alright,” he nodded.

“Oh, and don’t forget to look around for stuff.”

“That goes without saying,” snorted the big man.

“Lyra, you go second, and as usual I’ll bring up the rear. Little Bald, please, when you start spitting those fireballs of yours, remember there’s not much space here, and try not to hit us.”

“Meow!” said the dracat indignantly, and it was pretty clear that what he meant was, “Don’t teach your grandmother to suck eggs.”

So, we set off. It was a little strange — a long regular corridor without any junctions that gradually began to swing gently to the right, then a little more. At the same time, we were definitely going down. Was the whole pyramid just going to be a long spiral path down with no monsters or other dangers? Somehow, I doubted it. Talking of which, shouldn’t we be going up? The Pyramid of Sharaja could be seen from miles away, after all. Why were we going down rather than climbing up? Were we starting with the basement?

As soon as I started thinking about this, Gor appeared.

“Commander, up ahead…”

“What?

“Goblins.”

“Shit, a lot of them?”

“No, only three. One of them’s badly wounded.”

“Interesting. What level?”

“One Level 6, two Level 5s.”

“Death squad?”

“No, it says ‘raiders’. But knowing goblins and their lack of imagination, I doubt there’ll be much difference.”

I looked around sadly. I knew before I did that there was nowhere to hide in the corridor. Everything was even and sterile. Oh well, we’d just have to meet our enemies face to face, the way Gor liked it.

“Form up and keep quiet,” I said, already in a whisper. “Little Bald, as soon as the goblins appear, get firing. You two wait until the Level 6 attacks us. Then we use the tried and tested strategy. I’ll take care of the minions.”

“Got it.”

That was when the red dots appeared on my radar. They were moving slowly. When they came around the corner, I realized that we were in luck. The inscriptions did indeed say that we were about to meet two Level 5 goblin raiders and one Level 6 goblin raid commander. Judging by their appearance, however, the raiders had run into something pretty unpleasant. They were coming from within the Dungeon and making for the exit, so that meant whatever had beaten the shit out of them was in there attacking its own. Apparently, they wanted to get out of the Dungeon and recover, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Fire!” I shouted at Little Bald, at the same time as I shot my crossbow at the more or less healthy Level 5, who was helping to hold up his companion. My bolt hit him straight in the neck, and both of them fell to the floor. They were still alive, but they weren’t going anywhere. Then Little Bald opened fire from above.

The raid commander threw up his shield, intercepting the fireballs flying in his direction, and rushed forward with a whoop. Well, at least he wasn’t laughing, and it was obvious why. He was running toward us with a pronounced stoop, limping on one clearly injured leg.

Smothering Vine!

The plants sprouted from the stone floor. This time, I’d aimed carefully at the goblin’s bad leg. Like his death squad colleague, this one would have the strength to tear himself free. Except he fell straight to the floor. His leg had given out completely.

“Get the bastard!” I said, waving my companions forward and rushing over to the prone goblin.

I didn’t have to ask my friends twice. The goblin tried to get up, but it was difficult for him. I kept smothering him with vines that stopped him from getting any grip. Gor came scuttling in crab-style from one side, while Lyra preferred a more direct attack. After five minutes, we’d knocked the life out of him. Call it a win.

Breathing heavily, I stared at Gor.

“I wanted to ask you, buddy, where did you learn that crab style?”

“Crab style? What are you talking about?”

“Well, that way of moving sideways you’ve got.”

“I’m a stealth fighter, aren’t I? You said yourself, ‘Gor’s almost an assassin.’ Well, I know an assassin shouldn’t be seen. I’m crouching so nobody can see me.”

“Got it,” I said, trying not to laugh. The main thing was that Gor did his job as a killer. How he did it really made no difference to me.

“Max!” said a voice out of thin air that made me jump.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Grumbler,” said the voice, now with a familiar whining note to it. “Don’t you remember what I told you about a great achievement?”

“Of course I do.”

“Well, you performed a great feat, and here I am with new functions. I’m not just some dumb map anymore. Now I can be really useful… I mean, I can talk to you!”

“And not just talk,” I reminded her. “You’re our inventory now, aren’t you? How do we use it?”

“Yes, I’m the inventory too,” said Grumbler, finally appearing in the familiar form of a flying ball. “But that’s not the most important thing, Max! The main thing is that I’ll soon be free! Because very soon you’re all going to be dead. As far as I can tell, your presence here has been noticed.”

Chapter 11

External System Collectors’ Base, Planet of Vilion

VIP Lounge

“AND YOU WANT TO GO to war with them?”

Crab wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes. The head of the Stone-Cold Killers clan had been cackling like a hyena for ten minutes already, unable to contain himself. The Selected had left the VIP Lounge only ten hours previously. In that time, such things had happened in the world of Vilion that the external System had sent its representative to the heads of the great clans in order to tell them personally about the new heroes — the heroes who had been the first to enter the Pyramid of Sharaja.

“I don’t get it,” said Roman, then made a long pause. “It’s just not possible. It breaks everything…”

“What does it break?” said Mirelle, beating her tail fiercely against her sides.

“It breaks everything, every rule of logic. The group went into the Dungeon. The Pyramid of Sharaja is one of the three great pyramids of Vilion. It may be stationary, but once you go into it, you can’t come back out of it. I know that. You know that. The three of them must know that too. But nonetheless, they went in there. What can their level be right now? Two? Three? Even if they’re Level 4 — and I’ve no idea how they could be after only six days — it doesn’t make any difference! A Level 11 Dungeon will burn them up in ten minutes. It’s just madness…”

“You’re sure they can’t get out of the Dungeon?” asked Mirelle, still pounding with her tail.

“You were with me at the Ruins of Duchar. Did a lot of people get out of there? If we didn’t have transportation scrolls, we’d have died there too.” Roman’s hard stare could stop you in your tracks.

“Maybe they have scrolls, then?” suggested Orytil. “I mean, they found weapon enhancements somewhere, didn’t they?”

“The scrolls are linked to a waystone,” said Roman. “You have the same access to waystones that I do? Have a lot of new waystones cropped up in Vilion over the last year, do you think?”

Judging by the way all four of the clan heads were staring into space, they’d all started to check the data. Roman didn’t wait:

“Not a single one. A transportation scroll can only be produced with a waystone. It takes more than six days to get from the Pyramid of Sharaja to the nearest city. So no, they don’t have any scrolls. They went into the Dungeon to die.”

“Or to sit in the vestibule,” said Orytil, still tapping at the air with his finger.

“That’s the only logical explanation. They somehow managed to get past the guards and enter the dungeon, but then they couldn’t get out. They’re sitting in the vestibule and…”

Roman didn’t have time to finish before the representative of the local System once again entered the room. The heads of the clans looked dubiously at her — her sudden appearances never boded anything good.

“I have news, my friends,” said what looked very much like a ball of lightning. “The three heroes that entered the Pyramid of Sharaja have just cleared the first floor.”

“That’s impossible! How much time has passed since they entered the Dungeon?”

“Ten hours,” explained the System enthusiastically. “The first floor of the Pyramid of Sharaja is now fully under the control of the group known as the Selected. Thank you for using our lounge. If you have any comments or suggestions, please leave them for our consideration. Enjoy your stay and please don’t forget that your time here will be ending soon.”

The flying ball disappeared, but nobody was paying any attention to her already.

“Well, they’re not sitting in the vestibule. And the Dungeon hasn’t burned them up either. Roman, you’re not on the ball today, are you?”

Crab started laughing heartily again. Roman stared at him for a while but then turned to the cat woman:

“Mirelle, that terminates our agreement. I’m not sending my people to the Pyramid of Sharja. There’s no point anymore. The Selected will die without our help. If not now, then on the next floor. I’m not going to risk my collectors and send them past the pyramid. You can do as you wish, but you must see that you won’t be getting that amulet anymore. I’m leaving.”

“I agree,” said Mirelle, not even trying to hide her rage. “Oh well, I’ll just have to get those fools that made them outcasts back from the mines. I need somebody to take my anger out on.”

* * *

“So, they know about us?” I asked Grumbler again.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed anything,” said the ball, flying over to the wall. “On the other hand, what am I saying? You’re a druid and hunter, aren’t you? But Gor, you’re a scout! You really should notice this sort of thing.”

“Notice what?” asked Gor moving over to where Grumbler was hovering. He couldn’t understand what the flying ball was talking about.

“That thing!” said Grumbler, get angry at how unobservant we were. “Open your eyes!”

“Oh!” said Gor, his mouth dropping open. “Commander, there’s something that looks like a surveillance camera here!”

“That’s impossible!” I said, my mouth dropping open too. “We’re in Vilion! Everyone here is running around with swords and doing magic. Where would they get a video surveillance system from?”

I went over to the wall and looked where Gor was pointing with his fat finger. Embedded in the wall was a device that looked very much like a video camera. It was crude and obviously put together by hand rather than made in a factory, but it looked a lot more like a video camera than it did some ancient decoration. Judging by the way it periodically moved from side to side, somebody was watching us right now. Shit! Grumbler was right, we were fucked. We couldn’t just sit still as I’d planned. Our best bet would be to head back right now, fight our way through to the portal, and get straight back out into the world outside. That could help keep us alive, maybe.

“Let’s keep going,” I said, having weighed up the arguments for and against. “Gor, activate your invisibility and get scouting! Wait, you’d better break down the goblin’s bodies first.”

The main reason that I decided to stay there was the XP bar — it was already one third full. That wasn’t just cool, it meant Level 4 for us in around half an hour. We couldn’t just turn down a gift from fate like that — it wasn’t going to happen again. So, we’d keep going. After all, we were the Selected! We’d never just do what everyone else would.

While Gor was dealing with the bodies, I decided to interrogate Grumbler.

“Alright, chatterbox, tell me how to use the inventory.”

“Does it really matter?” the useless ball of electricity muttered, making me want to grind my teeth. Unlike Gor, you couldn’t just slap her around the head. I pulled up all the group’s properties, members, and everything that was available to me as commander. If this game was like the ones they made in my world, then… There it is!

There was a new two-dimensional window in front of me. The local System hadn’t invented anything incredible like a 3D inventory. The items were turned into 2D copies that easily slotted into the field. In other words, weight made no difference — after all, a 2D object cannot have a mass. Great! At the beginning, we had a field of thirty cells by thirty cells, but that was just because that was the number that filled the field. All I had to do was zoom out, and the number of cells increased. In other words, technically at least, we had infinite storage for items.

“Commander, that’s everything,” said Gor, handing me several Common-rank items. Despite the fact we’d had to face another Level 6, there was nothing useful in their gear. Nonetheless, I wasn’t planning on wasting any more loot. We had plenty of silirium, so why not wait a little, until Gor had leveled up a couple more times? Or wait until I had access to the auction and put all that stuff up for sale? Common items cost five hundred silirium, like gemstones, so it would’ve been crazy to break everything down when we could just take it with us. Gor handed me the body armor and I transferred it with my mind to the inventory. Miracle of miracles, a new icon appeared on the field, taking up exactly one square. Wow! That was something I hadn’t seen before — one cell for one item. That was awesome!

Wait, there was something else I hadn’t noticed. No, seriously?

“Grumbler, why didn’t you say that you had access to the auction?”

“Well, you didn’t ask. I’m now a fully functioning access point. Auction, store, inventory, great conversation — I can offer all that now, and…”

“Alright, I get it,” I said, interrupting the chatty System. I put the looted armor up for auction. A similar item cost five hundred silirium, so I immediately set the price for ours at six hundred. We’d see how the market reacted. After taking a look at everything Gor had picked up, I opened up the auction again and put another seven Common-rank items up for sale. Sadly, they were completely useless to us.

Nobody was rushing to buy the items, but I wasn’t worried. I could always lower the price. As there wasn’t any commission to charge, what difference would it make? Next came the gemstones. Adding the ones that Steve had given us — minus the ones we’d already eaten — our group had forty-two gemstones altogether. I started to slot each gemstone into the inventory, sighing more heavily with each one. Just as with the armor, one stone took up one cell, which meant loading Grumbler up with lots of tiny items just wasn’t worth the effort.

“Can everybody use the inventory?” I asked, just in case. Judging by the dumb looks on their faces, nobody could. I had to spend some time on training, while constantly checking the map. No new red dots appeared. Which was strange, to be honest. If Grumbler was right and we’d been noticed, then something like a death squad should’ve showed up already. But there were no goblins in sight. And the ones who had come our way had come straight from a fight. Was there some kind of big bad in the dungeon that was beating up on the locals? We really should check — my feet were itching to move on and find out what the hell was going on.

“It works!” said Lyra happily once she’d managed to pull a gemstone out of the inventory and put it back in again. Gor succeeded in the same feat a bit later, while Little Bald was utterly unconcerned by such trivialities. Having managed to pull his pants off again, the dracat was back to his favorite hobby. And he’d managed to get his pants off much faster and less dramatically than the last time, so he was leaning something.

“Gor, time to get moving,” I said, sending the char-ra ahead to scout. Despite the absence of enemies on the map, the long curving corridor made me nervous. I wanted to reach some kind of room. With Gor up ahead, we made what felt like three full circles around the inside of the pyramid, descending about ten floors in the process. But in all that time, neither Gor nor Grumbler, who joined him, could find anything of interest. There were video cameras — one every hundred yards — but no rooms or secret niches or anything else to make us happy. There wasn’t even anything lying around on the ground.

“There’s a room up ahead!” said Gor, coming back to report. “It’s huge and it’s really interesting!”

“Interesting?” I asked in surprise.

“Interesting!” Gor’s eyes were literally glowing with excitement. “There are all sorts of levers, gears, cables, and pins. Commander, there’s so much interesting stuff there. We absolutely have to take it all. My hands are itching to try and craft something out of it.”

“What about enemies?”

“I didn’t see anyone at all! Come on, let’s go — I really want to show you!”

A hundred yards further on, the passage came to an end. The descent was blocked by a massive door that was opened and closes by a locking mechanism that looked very steampunk. It had huge tubes, and a bewildering array of parts that hissed, smoked, and dripped oil, but still managed to work somehow. The System made no effort to identify the mechanism, just treating it like part of the wall. If you wanted an assessment, you’d have to remove the whole thing from the door first. However, seeing the way Gor glanced over the mechanism casually, I stopped worrying — it was of no interest to him. What was of interest was the huge pile of mechanisms of all different varieties that we came across as soon as we entered the room. I had expected that everything here would be like the gnomes’ energy reactor — a floor-to-ceiling column equipped with all kinds of devices. But I was wrong. This was a storeroom for all kinds of ironware. In the normal world, it would’ve been useless crap, but for Gor it was invaluable. He jumped from pile to pile, almost flapping his arms with excitement. I’d never have thought the inscrutable char-ra could show so much enthusiasm.

“Commander, just look at this!” Gor showed me some crooked iron stick that the System identified as a ‘Native Dilator’. Judging by the look of love that Gor bestowed on it, it really was something valuable.

“It’s no use trying to explain,” said the char-ra, almost waving me away in frustration, “I’ll just have to show you. Give me a couple of minutes, commander. You’ll see for yourself.”

Gor dug around in his bag, took out a couple of tools, and started performing what for a creature of his size were genuine miracles. It looked as if the tiny nuts and bolts that were strewn all over the floor began to jump into the right places all by themselves, with only the slightest guidance from his fat sausage fingers. The way the char-ra worked was truly incredible. He joined together the unjoinable, attached parts that couldn’t be attached, and in the end he produced… a rocking chair with a silirium-fueled motor.

“There, commander!” he said contentedly, stepping back and offering me to sit in his creation. His iron throne looked… well, it looked awful, what can I say?

Crazy Engineer’s Rocking Chair

Rank: Creative

Crafter: Gor, Char-ra

The item had no additional properties whatsoever, which meant that Gor had just turned a pile of useful materials into this waste of space. But he wasn’t bothered at all. In fact, those might have been the first moments of happiness that the char-ra had experienced since his arrival on Vilion.

“Do you call that crafting, you ham-fisted lunk?” said a thundering voice that made us all freeze. Almost immediately, a very unwelcome notification flashed before my eyes:

The Level 2 Aura of Sanctification is insufficient to counteract the effects of a Level 11 Aura of Stupefaction.

“I told you!” said Grumbler triumphantly. “I said that you were going to die! Now, here it is, the moment of truth! Go on, boss, get rid of them, then I can go home!”

The traitor! We’d been getting along okay, hadn’t we? Now she was back to her old tricks. The map finally woke up and displayed a red dot. A very big red dot. It approached us slowly from the center of the room, where there was a broad, smooth pillar with a platform that could be raised and lowered — what passed for an elevator to the next floor in these parts. All the while that Gor had been crafting his rocking chair, nobody had come down. But now that we were distracted, somebody had.

Finally, the red dot reached us.

Bellatrice Dorockit, Goblin Engineer

Level 11

Please note that all floor bosses in the Pyramid of Sharaja have their own names.

Wait, so this was a female goblin? The first-floor boss of the Pyramid of Sharaja was terrifying to behold… Actually, that’s not remotely true. Bellatrice just looked really weird. This three-foot-tall, green-skinned mutant wore a soiled white coat, the pockets of which were overflowing with all kinds of tools. A ridiculous pair of thick-lensed glasses were perched on top of her head, and what attracted even more attention was the huge spanner in her hand. The goblin carried it like a club, and it emitted a pleasant purple glow. An Epic spanner — that sounded… interesting.

“Clueless! Absolutely clueless!” she muttered to herself as she approached Gor’s creation. Turning to him, Bellatrice asked: “Who told you to use a native dilator? Come on, spit it out! Don’t play dumb when someone’s asking you a question!”

We all slumped to the floor — just by shouting, the goblin was putting what felt like granite slabs on our shoulders. Lyra activated healing, and it was a little easier to bear. The unexpected aura disappeared, which allowed us to pull ourselves back up again. Grumbler was still having a great time. Little Bald had managed to slip under my armor and was showing no sign of coming back out. Lyra sidled over to me and hid behind my back, as if that could save her. Gor, meanwhile…

Gor decided to talk back.

“Before you start your finding fault, why don’t you check it out?” he said in an offended tone. “Anybody can criticize appearance. Don’t just focus on the surface, look at the essence of the thing!”

“The essence?” The goblin chewed her lip unhappily. “What is there to look at? What essence does that thing have? You wasted so many valuable parts, and what for? For nothing!”

“See?” Gor wasn’t planning on giving up. I’d never seen him like this before. “There you go with the criticism again, without even trying it!”

“Well, you asked for it!” Bellatrice’s face took on an even crazier expression than before. Scrambling into the chair with some difficulty, she got comfortable and began to inspect the buttons on the armrest. “Aha, so that’s what you’re talking about. Alright, let’s see what a clumsy char-ra is capable of.”

The rocking chair began to vibrate like a massage chair. Furthermore, little wheels appeared underneath it and the chair began to move around the room. When it reached one of the many piles of parts, Bellatrice pressed a few more buttons and two mechanical arms with hand-like grips on them extended from the chair. Bellatrice controlled them with some skill, picking small parts out of the pile.

“Zaratin-garak!” A sudden shout interrupted the testing. Reinforcements had arrived in the lift — a fearsome force comprising nine Level 8 death squad goblins, led by a Level 10 goblin commander.

“Kyrnak!” barked the floor boss, continuing to play with Gor’s chair. This wasn’t explanation enough for the death squad, which kept on shouting. Furthermore, they drew their weapons and made their way toward us. I frowned, assessing the threat. Despite their high levels, none of the goblins had a single valuable item on them. As far as I could tell, there wasn’t even anything Uncommon. What did these low-rent bums want with us?

“Dyrnak-kyrnak!” roared Bellatrice and quite literally went up in a puff of smoke. She had been sitting in the rocking chair, then suddenly she appeared in the middle of the armed goblins, laying into them on all sides with her spanner. The death squad that had been sent to deal with us was itself dealt with in just a few seconds. The goblins were sent tumbling to the floor like bowling pins. Bellatrice then kicked the bodies, and they went flying to the far walls. From the look of it, we’d found where those three injured goblins in the corridor had come from. They’d had the misfortune to run into the floor boss.

“Alright, engineer, there is something to your work after all. But you do understand, don’t you, that concept isn’t everything? That execution is just as important? And you deserve to have your hand chopped off for your execution of this pile of junk!”

“I made it in just a few minutes without any instructions,” said Gor, still unwilling to admit defeat. “If I’d had the time and proper tools, the result would’ve been much better.”

“Do you want to challenge me, collector? Are you ready to risk your life? The life of your group?” The goblins eyes became two narrow slits. “I’ve a good mind to let you go right now, but if you decide to challenge me, we’ll be engaged in serious combat.”

“Gor?” I said just in case, but the char-ra had already made up his mind:

“Give me the tools, the time, and the raw materials, and I’ll make you a chair like you’ve never seen in your life before!”

“Challenge accepted!” Bellatrice lifted her head high, and the doors to the room slammed shut. The entrance to the elevator did the same. “There will be a battle of the engineers! We’ll make a functional rocking chair! Whoever completes the task better will win. If you win, I’ll let you and your team go. If you lose, you die!”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” I said.

“Who the hell are you?” asked Bellatrice, frowning. “Don’t stick your nose into matters that don’t concern you, human, or I’ll put an end to you!”

“The commander has a point,” said Gor, understanding what I was getting at. “If I’m victorious, then you should die!”

“What?” The goblin even took her glasses off her head. “Is a Level 3 char-ra really threatening to kill me, an engineer of the Pyramid of Sharaja?”

“How about we don’t kill you, we just take you with us?” I suggested. “We actually need an engineer in our Dungeon.”

“Perfect!” said Gor happily. “If I make a really good chair, then you come with us and work for the commander.”

“Work where?” asked Bellatrice suspiciously.

“In the Wild Gnomes’ Dungeon,” I said, happy to explain. “A waystone is being delivered there right now, so there’ll be access to the outside world. All the inventions of the collectors will be available to us, and much more besides. You’ll be able to travel to all the great cities of Vilion and see them with your own eyes. Touch them, even. You’ll have your own workshop and be able to teach students…”

“Not interested, collector!” said Bellatrice, grimacing. “Tell me more about the travel.”

“In twenty hours, the waystone will be installed in our Dungeon. We’ll go back there…”

“There’s no way out of the pyramid,” said the goblin, interrupting me. “Either you complete it or you die. That’s the law!”

“The waystone in the vestibule is configured with our waystone. If you we select Urgan-Kan as our destination, we’ll end up in our Dungeon. Then we can reconfigure the waystone and get access to the general network. The four great cities, all the gnomes’ locations — we can have access to all that in just a day’s time.”

“Is that right?” said the goblin thoughtfully.

“Max, what are you up to?” whispered Lyra.

“Staying alive!” I whispered back. “I got us into this mess, now I’m getting us out of it. With Gor’s help.”

“Alright, you clumsy engineer, I agree with your terms. If you beat me, I’ll come to work for you! For a year at first, then we’ll see. Maybe you’ll make a complete mess of this, and there’ll be no travel at all. Anyway, enough chit-chat, time to get to work! Char-ra, you can use anything you can find in this room. I give you eight hours.”

What can I say, Gor really tried. His new chair turned out surprisingly beautiful. He even put a veneer on it at the end. Bellatrice stayed beside him the whole time, occasionally commenting on his work, repeatedly calling him a ham-fisted oaf each time he fumbled with some part or other. After three hours of this process, I realized that the goblin was actually training Gor, providing hints, advice, and explanations. It was as if Bellatrice had completely forgotten that she had her own work to do. When Gor finally announced that he was ready, there were only fifteen minutes left on the clock. Suddenly, Bellatrice turned into a whirlwind of activity, and what she produced was a miracle. Her work was so exquisite that I doubted a whole lifetime would be enough for Gor to make anything comparable. Then, giving her chair a contemptuous look, the goblin nodded and, with a single blow from her weapon, shattered it to pieces. The Epic spanner turned her creation into a pile of scrap, and she said:

“Oh, I knew I shouldn’t have let such ham-fisted cretins into my workshop! I’ve been infected by your clumsiness! Ah well, it looks like I’ll have to work for you for a year, collectors. Your work is better than mine.”

You have defeated the boss of the first floor of the Pyramid of Sharaja. The average level of your group is six levels lower than the level of the boss. This is a heroic feat, news of which will be spread throughout the world.

This the second heroic feat that you have accomplished! As a reward, the members of the Selected will each receive two enhancement runes. You can collect your rewards in the store.

You have hired a Level 11 Engineer. Deliver her to the Wild Gnomes’ Dungeon before it explodes.

There was a long list of notifications, and no doubt they were all very important, but what I found much more interesting were the System’s words about our average level being six lower than Bellatrice’s. Looking at the XP bar, I gasped — while we’d been watching Gor complete his heroic engineer’s feat, the Pyramid of Sharaja had gifted us another two levels! We were now Level 5 collectors — which, for the record, was the maximum level attainable in the regular world. Furthermore, the XP bar had already reached the middle of Level 5, which meant we’d be leaving the Dungeon at Level 6. Because we still needed to spend a few more hours here — I had no desire to cut short the quest chain the System had issued us. We might never complete the next quest in the chain, but at least we’d get the reward for the first one. That I was determined to do.

“Right,” said Bellatrice, looking around. “I think I’ll take everything with me. You never know what might come in handy.”

The goblin waved her arm and the whole room was suddenly completely empty. All the piles of materials vanished, along with both of Gor’s chairs.

“What are you standing around for, my dear employers? It’s time to go! In a couple of hours, the greater bosses of the upper floors will come down here. Do you think they’ll be happy that you’ve taken me hostage and forced me to go with you? Unlike me, they won’t stop to chat with you, so if you don’t want any trouble, it’s time to go. Oh by the way, you fat oaf, this is yours — you earned it.”

Bellatrice handed her Epic spanner to Gor.

“I’m sick of looking at your weapon. It’s embarrassing for an engineer to be going around with that kind of junk!”

Perfect Single-Handed Weapon for a Great Engineer

Rank: Epic

The weapon’s type is dictated by the nature of the bearer. Can be used as an engineering tool

Holy shit! The System had given Gor an enhancement rune. That meant one thing and one thing only — he could take his new weapon to the next level. What rank would that be? Who the hell knew, we weren’t privy to that kind of information. Was it even possible to level up a weapon any further? In any case, it meant four more properties. That would make Gor strong. Very strong! All we had to do now was reach Level 6. If we wanted to bend this world to our will, then Level 6 was vital to us. And that was exactly what we wanted to do.

Chapter 12

“WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR?” asked Bellatrice, clearly eager to leave the Pyramid of Sharaja as quickly as possible. Having packed up all her materials and presented her Epic spanner to Gor, she moved to the exit from the room in the blink of an eye then stopped, noticing that we were still just standing there.

“We have a quest from the System,” I explained. “We have to spend another ten hours in the pyramid. Will you help us?”

She had looked crazy before, but on hearing my words, Bellatrice nearly went out of her mind. Appearing right next to me in an instant, she drew back her hand to knock me down, but then reconsidered. What’s more, she was utterly unconcerned about the height difference. Our levels decided everything. If that three-foot-tall midget had hit me, then I’d definitely have been transformed into a flat and very unhappy collector. Nonetheless, I didn’t want to fail the quest. Bellatrice muttered and snorted like a steam engine for quite a while, then swore loudly.

“I knew it wasn’t worth getting involved with collectors! Still, there’s no point in regretting now. Ten hours, you say? Will there be anything else after that?”

“I’ve no idea,” I answered honestly. “The local System is unpredictable. But I do know this — we have no plans to complete the Dungeon. Well, not this time, anyway.”

“Well, that’s cause for celebration,” said the goblin sarcastically. “Alright, let’s think. The first floor isn’t that big, and there’s not really anywhere to hide. My workshop, the spiral passage, the elevator — that’s basically it.”

“Wait, does that mean that everyone who enters the pyramid passes through your workshop?”

“Are you completely insane? My workshop is a restricted zone! Only particularly special cretins come in here, and I explain to them succinctly that they need to leave and not come back. Everybody enters the Pyramid of Sharaja through the main entrance, which leads to the second floor. That’s where everything happens. Please don’t tell me you didn’t realize that we were underground. Otherwise, I’ll have to wonder whether it’s really a good idea for me to work for you. I’ve had quite enough of stupid managers here!”

“You said that the bosses from the higher floors would come down here? Why would they do that? Shouldn’t they be sitting on their floors and waiting for us to appear?”

“Just keep your mouth shut,” said Bellatrice, clearly not happy with our situation. “You’ll look cleverer that way. This isn’t some cheap Dungeon, this is the Pyramid of Sharaja! It’s every man for himself here.”

“What?” asked Lyra, apparently also confused by the conversation. “If it’s every man for himself, then why would they run down here to help you?”

“Why would I expect logical thinking from an elf girl? Who said anything about help, you idiot? They’re coming here to seize territory! Just look how much space there is here. Neither the second nor the third floor can boast of anything like this. The assholes that live on them are always coming at me with filthy proposals. Everybody wants my workshop! The news that you’ve somehow managed to conquer the first floor has already spread all over the pyramid. It’s a real surprise that those jerks haven’t come running here yet. I guess they’re waiting for you to go up in the elevator so that they can deal with you on their home turf before coming down here.”

“So going up to the second floor isn’t a good idea?” I asked cautiously.

“Oh, so you do have a couple of working braincells after all! They’ll wait for a couple of hours, not more, then they’ll come down here. Are you ready to meet two Level 11 bosses? Bear in mind that they definitely won’t want to leave the Pyramid of Sharaja. Those assholes are loyal to the Master.”

“Who will want to leave the Pyramid of Sharaja?” asked Lyra unexpectedly.

“What?” Bellatrice turned to the elf girl and gave her a look that was indescribable, but probably matched the way the attendants on a psych ward look at their charges.

“You said that the bosses on the second and third floors are loyal to the Master of the Pyramid of Sharaja, so they won’t agree to leave. You didn’t say that all the bosses are like that, just those two in particular. That means that somewhere there’s a somebody who thinks that being stuck in this pyramid is a prison sentence — somebody who wants to get out, explore the world, and see all its beauty, right? Someone who’s not happy with the current state of affairs.”

“Hmm, you might have a point there,” said Bellatrice thoughtfully. I squeezed Lyra’s hand gratefully, and she answered with a suggestive smile that told me we urgently needed to perform some other great feat and get back to the VIP Lounge. In my past life, I’d had less sex in a year than I’d had in seven days in this one, and never with anyone even close to as beautiful as Lyra. Maybe there was something to that word “selected” after all.

“No, it won’t work,” said Bellatrice after long consideration, shaking her head.

“What won’t work?” I asked her.

“Nothing will, collector. The only one of the bosses who’s ready to quit the pyramid — apart from me, of course — is Shuranid, our alchemist. Not only is he not allowed to develop here, he’s also kept locked up and prevented from going anywhere. The Master knows that Shuranid will run away at the slightest opportunity. After all, he’s an ogre.”

“Just to check, is an ogre a huge monster that looks a bit like our Gor here?” I asked.

“Like that ham-fisted engineer?” Bellatrice sized up the char-ra again. “Compared to Shuranid, he’s just a baby. Ogres are the greatest warriors in the world of Vilion. They’re powerful, they have natural and almost total protection against magic, they’re strong, and they’re resilient. That klutz would barely come up to Shuranid’s belly button.”

“Okay, but why won’t it work with Shuranid? Would he not agree to come with us?”

“He’d agree immediately. However, not only is he on the sixth floor, he’s also under guard. Even if we could get past the guards somehow, we wouldn’t be able to break the locks. Shuranid is kept permanently in a cage.”

“And the key to that cage is…”

“With the Master, where else?” Bellatrice looked at me like she was talking to a child. “He found the alchemist and he’s the one who locked him up.”

“So, you’re saying that collectors who reached the sixth floor wouldn’t encounter the boss, just his guards?”

“Why wouldn’t they encounter him? He’s right there…” Bellatrice paused. “Alright, so the cage can be opened. Probably. But to do that you’d need to get past all the guards. They’re Level 10, in case you’re wondering. Are you ready for that?”

“Will the elevator take us up to the sixth floor?” I asked, pointing at the platform that continued to move up and down.

“With my access key, it will. But what then? You can’t beat the guards, and I’m not planning to fight. I’m already compromising myself just talking to you. At least I turned off the surveillance cameras, otherwise I’d never be able to come back here.”

“Well then, let’s go and see what this Shuranid is like. Selected, everyone take two gemstones — it feels like ours are running out. Little Bald, these are for you.”

Isn’t it great when everyone knows how to work with one inventory? There’s no need to make any superfluous movement. Minus eight gemstones, plus a certain amount of time to adapt to this terrifying cave. Nobody understood what I was planning, but my group had gotten used to not asking questions. If the commander said risks had to be taken, then risks had to be taken. Although the way I saw it, there really weren’t any risks in this case. The local System was reacting to what we did and giving us rewards that corresponded to our efforts. We managed to get inside the Pyramid of Sharaja, and in return we got an engineer. Gor had helped, of course, but that was of secondary importance. The same would be the case with this Shuranid. Bellatrice could’ve just said that none of the pyramid bosses wanted to run away, and that would’ve been the end of the story. But no, the local System had made her say exactly what she said. We could take another risk and in return we’d get a whole lot more than just a Level 11 engineer. So, why not follow the local System’s lead and take advantage of her gifts? Something told me that if we just once refused to do that, there’d be no more gifts coming our way.

I opened the store and sighed — a simple coil of rope cost two hundred silirium, and there was nothing of the sort in the auction. That was too much.

“Bellatrice, I need a long narrow chain. Can you make me one? Or give Gor the materials, and he’ll do it. Lyra, what auras do you have available now?”

“Smothering, Bleeding, and Enhancement.”

“Why have you started ordering everyone around, collector?” asked Bellatrice, and I noticed that she was even standing at attention.

“Because I’m the commander,” I told her. “So go on, make a chain. At least three yards long, please. Lyra, put two skill points into Enhancement. Now, open up Berserker. Is there anything there connected with defense?”

“There is! Max, I’ve got a whole new tree of defense abilities!”

“Tell me everything,” I said. Bellatrice stood nearby and fretted, trying to decide whether to put an end to us right away or let us suffer a little longer. I demonstratively ignored her, and the goblin finally gave in and started to make a chain. Actually, she just pulled a pile of metal out of her inventory, waved her hand, and a long, thin, strong chain uncoiled across the floor. Excellent!

As for Lyra, everything turned out great. The System had taken pity on us, giving our kamikaze fighter a whole class of defensive abilities. Shield Strike was still a really important ability, but now it was complemented with a new one — Steel Skin, which turned Lyra’s skin into something like steel for a short time. I didn’t think twice and used both Berserker points on that, increasing its duration to five seconds. Taking into account the ability bonuses from her gear, Lyra could activate Steel Skin every seven seconds. It would be much harder to damage her now.

Once again, I got stuck on Healing. As far as I could tell, Lyra already had everything that we needed, so we could save the three skill points (we still had one left over from the previous level) for the future. However, if Shield Strike was anything to go by, the more you leveled up a skill, the more opportunities became available. On that basis, we put two more points into Healing, and my hunch was happily rewarded — it turned out even a healer was capable of fighting. The System had clearly decided to give us a gift, as the third level opened up for the elf an interesting attack branch called Dark Healer. Now Lyra could apply her healing to our enemies, except that rather than healing them the skill would attack them, swallowing up their life force. You might ask what good that was, having another attack curse that affected a lone enemy. Well, you’d be asking a stupid question, because the passive Dark Healer skill (which was constantly active by default) interacted with all the other healing spells, including Healing, Mass Healing, and Aura of Sanctification. At Level 6, Lyra could apply Mass Healing, and our group now had a brilliant mass destruction skill to afflict on our enemies. Anyone within a twenty-yard radius of us would die. At least, that was the plan.

Bellatrice unexpectedly joined the conversation.

“So, you’ve decided to work on your group’s development? That’s a good idea. What are you giving this klutz?”

“We need to pump Breakdown to Level 5,” I said, thinking. “And Invisibility to Level 3. At this stage, there’s nothing else useful for scouts. As for his engineer part… Well, can you give us any advice where to put two points?”

“I thought you’d never ask! You’ve already got Foraging, which is good. You should now be able to see Design, which you need to take. Then you’ll get Modeling and you’ll need to put all your points in that from now on.”

“Gor?” I said, turning to the big man.

“I’m on it,” he nodded, explaining what those abilities were as he did it. Design not only allowed him to work with blueprints, but also to create his own. I didn’t really see what use that was, but it gave him access to Modeling, a passive engineer’s skill that automatically put together anything that he’d designed in his blueprints. The engineering whirlwind that Bellatrice had turned into was the highest form of Modeling — she created items with her willpower and didn’t even have to put her hands on the parts. They just joined together by themselves, using the power of silirium. Considering the size of Gor’s fingers, this was an excellent solution to all our problems.

Only me and Little Bald were left, but I couldn’t see anything difficult about us. For me, two points went to Smothering Vine and two to Taming. Finally, I unlocked a new hunter’s ability with the appealing name Armor-Piercing Shot. The description said exactly what the name did — a shot that pierces the armor of your enemy. On the downside, it cost ten silirium to cast, so I wouldn’t be using it all that often. Furthermore, the bolt or arrow imbued with the property was also consumed and couldn’t be retrieved. Nonetheless, I put two points into Armor-Piercing Shot without a moment’s pause. Our encounters with high-level creatures had demonstrated that they always had serious armor.

Little Bald got plus one for his Fireball, which brought it up to Level 3, as well as Multiple Shots, which allowed the dracat to launch three fireballs at once. Furthermore, he could turn the ability on or off, so he could fire a single fireball, or send three at different targets simultaneously. This was another benefit for fights with groups of enemies.

“Have you finished?” asked Bellatrice, kicking at the chain. “So, what do you need this thing for?”

“Haven’t you worked it out yet?” I laughed. Picking up the chain, I went over the goblin. She began to backup, still uncertain about what I was going to do.

“I’ll kill you right now!” she warned, when there was nowhere further to back up to.

“Listen, it’s time you made your mind up! Either you go with us proudly, with your head held high, or you retain the opportunity to return to the pyramid if things don’t work out for us. But in that case, stop making a fuss. We’re going to the sixth floor now and there’ll be guards there. If they see you’re free, there may be questions. If they see you bound in chains, that’ll be a completely different story. Your task is simple — to get us upstairs and then to shout at the top of your lungs that nobody should come near us or we’ll kill them all. You know, let Shuranid deal with us.”

“Screw it, tie me up!” said Bellatrice, immediately demonstrating that she had absolutely zero faith in us. Whatever happened, she’d make sure she had a soft landing.

For a Level 11 being, an ordinary chain was no more frightening than a paper chain, but we weren’t planning on telling anyone that it wasn’t some great artifact capable of binding a monster like that. It was probably dumb to risk going up to the sixth floor, but I was unstoppable. My gaming experience told me it was all or nothing. We weren’t interested in half measures. After all, we were the Selected.

We got up to the sixth floor fast. Bellatrice stuck out her hand, placed it on the controller, and the floors began to race past us. I managed to see that, on the second floor, there really was a sizeable army waiting for the collectors who were planning to conquer the Dungeon. So, it turns out you have to kill the second-floor boss first, then the third-floor one, who’ll come running to help, straight after. Only after that do you get to go down to the first floor and meet the crazy engineer. It was a weird sort of logic, but then that’s goblins for you.

The elevator stopped. The aura on the sixth floor was a lot harder to bear. I looked at the suddenly gray faces of the Selected. Lyra, Gor, and even Little Bald were all looking at me, hoping I’d let them swallow another gemstone. That was what I was planning to do, but the XP bar, which was racing forward, stopped me. At that rate, we wouldn’t just get to Level 6, we’d make it all the way up to Level 7.

“Hang in there,” I said. “We need to adapt. Bellatrice, lead the way!”

The goblin gave me an evil look. A Level 11 being, she clearly wasn’t used to taking orders. Still, she obeyed and began to move forward, but she had to stop when the chain between us grew taught. Gor had put one of his great paws on my shoulder and was pointing to a completely flat wall to one side of us. The room we’d ended up in was small and had no goblins in it. Ahead of us, however, there were red dots everywhere, and we’d have to deal with them.

“What?” I asked, turning to the char-ra.

“A passage,” said Gor.

“What passage? Where?” Grumbler, who had all this time been watching our adventure in silence, suddenly came to life and flew closer to the wall. “Oh, I see. Wow! Gor, you’ve got sharp eyes, kid!”

“A stash?” I asked.

“I don’t think so. My sense is that it’s a passage somewhere. Give me a minute.”

“What are you messing around with there?” whispered Bellatrice angrily. “We need to get moving! Shuranid won’t come out until everyone on the floor is dead! What are you doing with that wall, you big oaf? It’s just a wall. Wait, really?”

The goblin got an amusingly wide-eyed look on her face when the apparently monolithic wall suddenly turned into a passage — a passage that turned sharply and ran off into the distance, bypassing the room ahead of us.

“Gor?”

“It’s clear, no traps. I’ll go look.”

To be honest, I experienced something of a culture shock when the char-ra’s massive form suddenly flickered and disappeared as if he’d never been there. Gor had activated his Level 3 Invisibility and simply vanished from view. Only from the map could I tell that he was still nearby. I couldn’t resist reaching my hand out in his direction. The big man chuckled happily — my hand touched him, but my eyes still couldn’t see him. It was incredibly cool. I want one too!

Gor headed off down the passage and soon returned.

“It’s a secret passage. Follow me, it’s safe here.”

“A secret passage on the sixth floor?” said Bellatrice in amazement. Her face was now completely contorted with confusion as to what was happening. “Why don’t I know anything about this? How did you find it? Who are you people anyway?”

“We’re the Selected!” I told her with a note of superiority in my voice. “So have a good think as to whether you really need to keep the option of coming back here open. We’ll make our own conclusions too, and if our cooperation doesn’t work out, we’ll send you straight back here. We’ll even pay the Master to take you back.”

“I’ll kill you!” whispered Belattrice.

“See? That’s another point in the minus column for you. Gor, what’s up ahead?”

“Just an empty corridor. It goes past all the rooms and there are entrances into all of them. Also, there are viewing windows that you can look through to see what’s in each of them. Judging by the lack of dust, this whole passage is used regularly.”

“Used? Who by? Does that mean the Master checks up on all his employees? Wait, is there one of these on my floor too? Collectors, did you find anything like this?”

“Gor didn’t find anything, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any secret passages. It just means that Gor didn’t look well enough,” answered the char-ra.

We had already gone at least two hundred yards along the corridor. In each of the rooms that we went past, there were ten to fifteen Level 10 goblins, making up fully-formed raid parties that included healers, commanders, support, and tanks. What’s more, the closer we got to the boss, the better the bastards were equipped. In the room before the boss’s, there were fifteen Level 10 goblins all wrapped up in purple — armor, weapons, and accessories. Standing before us were the best-equipped enemies we’d yet come across.

“They’re elite troops,” explained Bellatrice. “The Master sent them down from the eleventh floor to guard Shuranid. Those are the strongest goblins in the world of Vilion. The only ones more powerful are those of us with names. In fact, if you look more closely, you’ll see that the commander of this squad has a name too.”

I decided to take Bellatrice’s word for it. It didn’t even occur to me to go into the room and find out the commander of the elite squad’s name for myself.

“Commander, I’ve found it,” said Gor in a whisper. The big man stepped back from the wall, allowing me to look through the small crack. In front of us was a fairly large room full of all kinds of alchemical instruments. In the center sat a gloomy ogre, pouring some kind of murky sludge from one flask into another. Judging by his expression, he was doing this without any particular enjoyment, merely to keep himself busy.

The ogre was impressive. While Bellatrice’s appearance was more likely to inspire laughter than respect, Shuranid was like a real rock. In comparison to him, Gor would look like a little boy. Gor next to Shuranid would look like Lyra next to Gor. The ogre was ridiculously huge, clearly over ten feet tall. As I watched him, I laughed — the monster’s fat fingers weren’t actually holding the flasks, which were flying about by themselves, guided by the movements of his hands. So, that was Modeling in all its glory. Why do anything for yourself if you could get the System to do it all for you?

“What a complicated lock,” grumbled Gor. While we had been watching the ogre, the char-ra had been trying to deal with the locking mechanism on the entrance. The room had no windows or visible doors. It was the perfect cage for a prisoner.

“Commander, I need some help,” said Gor, looking up at me guiltily. “I’ve broken all my lockpicks. The ones I had don’t fit this mechanism. This one’s really tough. Can you buy me some more?”

“Will this do?” asked Bellatrice, clearly interested in what Gor was doing. Having pulled out some tool or other, she handed it to the char-ra. “Do you know how to use that?”

For a while, Gor stared blankly at the tool, then he nodded. Getting back to the lock, he almost busted a gut trying to open it. Actually, he did bust one.

“Woohoo!” A broad grin spread across his face when a click was finally heard. Cracks formed around the apparently monolithic wall, and it moved to one side.

“Duragan va? Gyrak la,” said a heavy, enveloping voice. Shuranid didn’t even turn to face us. He knew full well who was coming to see him via that secret passage.

“Are you planning on sitting there much longer, you dumb-ass punk?” Bellatrice had decided to talk to the ogre in the collectors’ language. The speed with which that massive body jumped up and rushed over to us was terrifying, especially if you bear in mind that on the map it was marked with a huge red dot.

“Bellatrice? You were killed! The first floor of the pyramid was captured… Chains! Wait, I’ll set you free!”

“Stop, moron! Shut up and listen!” barked the goblin fiercely. Next to that vast body, she didn’t even look like a child — more like a little mouse. She didn’t even reach up to his waist, but she still managed to look fiercer than the mighty monster. It took her several minutes to explain the whole situation, then a couple more to answer Shuranid’s questions. And then the ogre needed a little more time to sit down in Gor’s favorite position and consider the meaning of life.

“Work for collectors? How will that be any different from this prison? Swapping one cage for another doesn’t sound all that great to me.”

“The Selected guarantee a five-day working week with two days off,” I said immediately. “A six-hour working day, paid annual leave with the possibility to travel to anywhere in the explored parts of Viliion. A Christmas bonus, a benefits package, gifts on your birthday and, most importantly of all, an increased bonus when you have a kid.”

“Max, what are you talking about?” whispered Lyra in my ear. “What bonuses? What leave? What benefits? Why don’t we get any of that? I want all that too!”

“You already get everything,” I told her, waiting for Shuranid’s reaction. He fixed me with a heavy stare.

“Are you saying I can bring my family to your Dungeon?”

“Your wife and kids? Sure.”

“All of them? All of my wives and all of my kids?”

“Have you got a lot of them?” I asked uncertainly.

“Around two hundred all told. I haven’t been particularly fertile. Work always gets in the way.”

“Bring them all. We have a village next to a quarry where gemstones are mined. There are a bunch of Level 5 creatures rampaging around it. Can your kids take care of them?”

“Up to the fourth floor, no problem!” said the ogre with pride. “What can pathetic monsters like that do to my children? Nothing!”

“Will it take you long to pack up? We do have a lab in my Dungeon, obviously, but I’m not sure it’s as well equipped as this one.”

“Packing won’t take long, but bear in mind that as soon as I leave this room, the whole pyramid will be up in arms. We’ll only have one chance to get out, and no more than two minutes to get off the sixth floor. Are you ready to run?”

“Does the Master drop by here often?”

“Once a month, just to check that I haven’t died or anything. And give me more work. He was here last week, so I’m not expecting him today. Shall we go?”

“Wait. Before we run away, we need to wait nine hours. The System has given us a quest to remain in the pyramid for twenty-four hours. It’d be no fun to fail it now that we’ve got so far. That’s not a problem, is it? Excellent, I didn’t think it would be. But tell me this, my new employee, is there any kind of alchemical potion that can raise the amount of XP gained? I’m really not happy with the current speed of adaptation.”

“You’re funny,” said Shuranid with a grin. “You’ve really decided to take the bull by the horns, haven’t you? Well, I’m not going to lie to you, there is a potion like that. It’s not hard to make, but it can only be taken once. After that, you’ll never be able to use it again. Here in this world, it doubles the speed you gain XP. It will go on working in any world you go to after you reach Level 10. The only thing is, the recipe I have is kind of dirty. It really needs to be improved, but the resources to do that don’t exist in this world. What if they do exist in some other world, and there’s an elixir there that can not just double the speed you gain XP, but increase it ten times over? Are you ready to deny yourself the opportunity for that kind of growth in the future by using this not very pure recipe now? Think about that, my new temporary employer. As it happens, it’ll take me nine hours to make three elixirs.”

Judging by Lyra and Gor’s expressions, it wasn’t just me who needed to do some thinking. What had seemed like a great idea to me had been turned by the ogre into an unpleasant joke. If there really were elixirs in the next world that increased the amount of XP we gained by that much, then we’d definitely need them. Blocking ourselves from that opportunity would be a major error. Still, let Shuranid make the elixirs. We’d work it out later.

We reached Level 6 without much celebration. Sitting and watching how neatly the vast ogre worked with his flasks was interesting for the first couple of hours, but then the incredible spectacle got repetitive and became boring. As for our skill points, we didn’t try anything radically new, continuing to develop according to my plans. Lyra unlocked Mass Healing, which, combined with Dark Healer, turned her into a fearsome killing machine. Shield Strike went up to Level 3, and as for her auras, we continued with Enhancement.

Gor boosted Breakdown to Level 6, then raised Modeling to Level 2 and Invisibility to Level 4. Now it was even harder to spot his massive body. Even sharp-eyed Grumbler had to strain to make him out.

I continued to develop Smothering Vine, getting it up to Level 5. Armor-Piercing Shot went to Level 3, and I now had great plans for it. If any kind of monster with a shield attacked us now, I’d blow the bastard away. And, of course, there was Taming — Little Bald could now enjoy the use of Level 4 Fireball. Not only did it have a one hundred percent chance of igniting the target, it also reduced the opponent’s resistance to all types of damage, which seemed to me like a pretty damn useful tool against powerful enemies.

“Here,” said Shuranid, handing me three elixirs. They looked amazing — a single flask would go for a shitload of silirium at auction. “Decide for yourselves if you want to take them. This is my gift to you. Well, are we ready? Then let’s go. I’m tired of hanging around here. I want to get back to my family and produce a few hundred more kids, especially as I’ve been promised excellent bonuses for each of them.”

The ogre waved his hand, and the entire alchemy laboratory vanished. Immediately, a red warning light started flashing, and the pyramid was filled with the disturbing sound of sirens. Our “Fat Chance of Survival” race had begun! As if to taunt me, the System decided now was the time to remind us of its existence, blocking my whole vision with a notification:

You have defeated the boss of the sixth floor of the Pyramid of Sharaja. The average level of your group is five levels lower than the level of the boss. This is a heroic feat, news of which will be spread throughout the world.

This is your third heroic feat! As a reward, each member of the Selected group will receive a resurrection scroll. You can claim your reward in the store.

You have hired a Level 11 alchemist. You have 20 minutes to get out of the Pyramid of Sharaja.

Chapter 13

“WHAT THE HELL?” I said, flinching in surprise. “Are we being kicked out?”

“More asked politely to leave,” growled Shuradin.

I glanced frantically at the timer. There it was!

The Survival Order quest in the Pyramid of Sharaja chain has been completed. You survived in the pyramid for 24 hours without a single death.

You have accepted the Defeat the Boss quest… Completed!

You have accepted the Second Floor? No Problem! quest… Error!

You have defeated the sixth-floor boss without destroying the bosses on the second, third, fourth and fifth floors. This reveals a logical error… The Pyramid of Sharaja quest has been declared invalid.

“Wow, amazing!” I sighed. “We broke the System. Hey, System, where’s our reward?”

I love the Vilion System. It’s so cute the way it always answers quickly and to the point.

Attention! The Selected, you have been granted an award for completing the Survival Order quest. Your reward is… Recalculation in process… Please wait…

You have been granted a reward for uncovering a logical error in the quest. To obtain your reward, please ask the head of any of the great clans. The heads of the great clans have been informed.

“Wait, what the hell? Grumbler, what’s going on here?”

“How would I know? That’s not my System.” Grumbler looked a little dazed — well, in as much as a glowing ball can look dazed. After first Bellatrice and then Shuranid had agreed to join our group, Grumbler had withdrawn into herself to do some thinking. I suspect the System was a little upset after recalculating the chances of our death.

“Hey, you dumb collector, have you forgotten anything? Move your ass, it’s time to get out of here!” Bellatrice reminded me of her presence. She and Grumbler were like long-lost sisters. Even their tone of voice was the same, not to mention the content of what they were saying.

“Alright, let’s go,” I said, nodding to the open passage.

Just like the goblin before him, the ogre had waved his hand once and all his equipment and other items had vanished instantly. Apparently, they all went into his inventory.

The first back down the passage was Gor, followed by Lyra, then Bellatirce, then me and Little Bald. I was worried that the massive ogre might change his mind at the last minute, but no, Shuranid followed us, looking around with interest and humming some tune under his breath.

It was amazing that the goblin and the ogre got on so well, considering they were complete opposites. I’m not just talking about their race and their size either. If Bellatrice was a living copy of our Grumbler, then Shuranid was even more detached than our Gor. Apparently, he just got a kick out of life.

“Bellatice!” I called out to the goblin.

“What do you want?”

“The bosses that came down to check on the first floor — are they still there?”

“How would I know?” she said, shrugging her shoulders. Then she thought for a second and added, “Well, for Shurnaid, the Master himself will be coming down now, and that’s a problem.”

“Wait! The Master?” I asked, dumbfounded. “We’re going to the elevator right now. Is it the only one?”

We-e-ell…” she said with a strange tone to her voice, “it’s the only normal one.”

“Wait, stop!” I barked as I came to a halt. The massive ogre, who had his head in the clouds, bumped into the back of me and almost squashed me flat as a pancake.

“Sorry,” he said politely and a little ashamedly.

“What’s the matter?” demanded Bellatrice.

“What the fuck are we doing heading for the elevator if the Master is coming down in it now? He is coming down, isn’t he?”

“Of course!” nodded the goblin, then thought for a bit and added: “Of course he’s coming down, why wouldn’t he be?”

I was overwhelmed with the impulse myself to slap my forehead. Of course, it would’ve been even better to slap Bellatrice, but first, she was a woman, and second, she was Level 11, which would make it a very dangerous move.

“And he’ll put an end to us, won’t he?”

“Of course he will,” agreed the goblin, lost in thought again. “Damn, that’s not so good, is it?”

“Commander?” At that moment, a translucent Gor appeared. “We can’t open the passage entrance. There’s a crowd of goblins gathered around the elevator. It looks like they’re waiting for someone.”

“Someone?” I said, with a vicious look at Bellatrice, but she didn’t seem to care. “You said ‘normal’ lift. Is there an abnormal one too?”

“Well yeah, dumbass. How do you think they deliver food to us?”

“How the hell should I know? Maybe you just eat shit!”

“What’s all this about?” asked Shuranid in surprise.

“He’s some kind of psycho,” said Bellatrice, turning away from me.

“You!” I pointed at the goblin, feeling that I was just about to lose my mind with all this… hmm… wildlife. “Take us to the abnormal elevator!”

“We-e-ell, in that case, we’ll need to go back to where Shuranid was sitting.”

The grinding of my teeth could be heard echoing down the dark corridor, but I didn’t say anything. I just turned a hundred and eighty degrees and started marching back. Bellatrice soon caught up with me.

“What are you… I wouldn’t mind a bite to eat either, but now’s not the time. It’s still a couple of hours till dinner is served. Besides, going back to get dinner when the Master is after us doesn’t seem like the most obvious choice.”

I gave the goblin a sideways glance and silently patted myself on the back. I was proud of my phenomenal patience.

“We’re not going to eat. We’re going to use that elevator to get downstairs.”

“Hmm,” said Bellatrice, looking thoughtful and then smiling. “Oh! Ah! That’s a great plan, but there is one ‘but’. Shuranid won’t fit.”

“Yes, he will.”

“No, he won’t! Are you stupid? I’m telling you…”

“And I’m telling you that you’re an engineer and you’ll think of something. Start thinking now, by the way.”

“Hmm…” Given a clear task, the goblin backed off, and a thoughtful frown appeared on her face.

Next came Lyra.

“Max,” the elf girl said, whispering for some reason, “have you got a plan?”

“Of course, I’ve got a whole sackful of plans,” I growled, still irritated. “Actually, that’s just what I need to make life with you guys bearable.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Lyra in surprise.

“Forget it, I’m just nervous. Let’s get out of here, then we can really kick back,” I sighed dreamily.

“How?” she asked, giving me a curious look.

“How? How?” I teased her, but gently. “We’ve now got a real engineer and a real alchemist. The engineer can build us a sauna and hot tub, and the alchemist can make all those shampoos and creams or whatever it is you use. We’ll get in the tub and we won’t come out for ages — a week, absolute minimum! It won’t be like the VIP Lounge with its time restrictions, it’ll be our own private spa center. The whole world can wait for us!”

“Yeeheee!!!” shrieked a happy Lyra jumping on to me and wrapping her arms around my neck, “I think I’m starting to fall in love with you!”

“Starting?” I said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. At that moment, I felt a shove in my back and almost dropped Lyra.

“Now’s not the time for hugging, there’s a battle waiting for us!” Bellatrice was so lost in thought that she just bumped into me and then kept walking, without the slightest apology.

We reached Shuranid’s cell quickly and Bellatrice immediately went over to a hatch in the wall next to a huge, clearly ogre-sized toilet. She slid the hatch door to one side and stuck her long green nose in.

I followed her and put my own head into the hole. What I saw didn’t make me happy at all: “Is that the whole elevator? It’s not just the ogre who won’t fit, we couldn’t even get your short ass in there.”

“Did you think you were going to go down in the elevator?” said the goblin, laughing at me.

“Well, yeah…” I said, confused.

“Oh, you’re so naïve!” she laughed again.

I felt the rage welling up inside me. Bellatrice noticed and stopped laughing.

“We’re not interested in the elevator cage itself — it’s really only big enough for empty plates. What we’re interested in is the shaft, which goes straight down into my workshop. But it’s not wide enough for our big friend.”

“That makes sense,” I said, scratching my head. “But how do the rest of us get down there?”

“Just a second…”

Once again, a whirlwind of parts appeared around the goblin, and in an instant, she produced some kind of device with rollers and levers.

“With one of these. You pull the lever, and it releases the brake, allowing you to slide down. Push the lever the other way, and you stop. This block is to attach you to the cable. Got it?”

“Got it. Now, what about the ogre?”

We both looked at Shuranid’s vast form and came to the same conclusion simultaneously.

“He’s not going to fit.”

“But we’re not going anywhere without him,” I said, frowning. “The Selected leaves no man behind.”

“I appreciate that,” rumbled Shuranid. “But clearly there’s no alternative here. Thank you for trying. When the Master kills me, I’ll remember these final moments of freedom.”

“Nobody is going to die today!” I said firmly and racked my brains for inspiration: “Shuranid, you’re an alchemist, aren’t you? Can’t you make yourself a shrinking potion?”

“I can….” answered the ogre thoughtfully. “True, it does give you heartburn for two days afterward, and the transformation is quite painful. But yes, I can.”

He kept looking at me, and I stared at him.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” asked the ogre, surprised.

Again, I felt the overwhelming desire to slap the ogre, but he was a lot bigger and stronger than me, so I just slapped my own forehead.

“Well, make it, then! Shrink yourself down and we’ll get the hell out of here finally!”

“Oh, that’s a good idea…” Suddenly, Shuranid was surrounded by flying bottles and all kinds of strong-smelling ingredients.

“Ready!” he said a minute later, holding up a vial or murky, purple liquid.

“Well, drink it, then. No, wait. How long does it last for?”

“About twenty-four hours.”

“Alright, in that case, you won’t get stuck in the hole. Go on, drink it. What are you waiting for?

A mighty roar could be heard from the other end of the passage.

“The Master’s coming,” said Bellatrice, in a whisper for some reason.

Shuranid drank down the vial and began to bulge and twitch. For a while, it felt like we were in a cartoon, but I guess his organs and bones really were moving around inside him as he got smaller piece by piece. It looked painful, as well as being utterly gross.

He got smaller and smaller and smaller…

“Hey, maybe that’s enough?” I said when he was down to waist height on me.

Like he’d heard me, the ogre began to slow down, but he didn’t stop shrinking until he was a little lower than my knee.

“Look at that,” I said, “the world’s first mini-ogre.”

“Meow!” Little Bald jumped off my shoulder and sniffed at the shrunken Shuranid with interest.

“RRRAAA!!!” came the Master’s voice again, this time much closer.

“Come on, come on, let’s go!” I said frantically.

Bellatrice gave everyone a carabine, or whatever her contraptions were called, then she jumped first into the elevator shaft, followed by Lyra, followed by…

“Well, this is embarrassing!” I said, when Gor got stuck in the hole. “I guess someone’s been hitting the dried meat and fruits too hard.”

“I’m just a big man!”

“Well, breathe in, big man!”

I pushed and shoved as hard as I could, but Gor was completely stuck. If I pushed him any further, it felt like he would block our only exit completely.

“I’m pulling you back up, so gimme a hand!” I shouted.

With a loud pop like a cork from a bottle, he came flying back out, immediately drawing his knife and adopting his crab pose.

“It has been an honor to fight with you, commander. You go now, I’ll cover your back.”

I wanted to slap my forehead again, but I didn’t have the strength for it. I was surrounded by, well, heroes. I turned to the mini ogre, who was watching the whole thing with curiosity and not the slightest trace of fear.

“We need one more shrinking potion, really fast.”

“Got it,” squeaked the mini ogre. “I’ll do it right away, but these are the final ingredients. There won’t be enough left for you.”

“Well, I don’t think I need it,” I said, but I gave the shaft another worried looked. No, I was well built, obviously, but I’d still fit down there.

Again, ingredients and bottles danced in the air around the ogre. It took no time at all.

“There!” squawked the mini ogre, handing me a mini vial.

I took it carefully between thumb and forefinger.

“Is that really enough?”

“Do you dare to doubt a great alchemist like me?” asked Shuranid, with a fierce frown on his face. However, as he was knee-high to me, it was more amusing than scary.

“Gor, take this and try not to drop it,” I said, handing him the tiny vial. Gor took it and stared at it in confusion.

“I can’t even get the cork out with my fingers.”

“Fuck it, just eat the vial!” I said.

The Masters cries were closer every second, and my skin was beginning to crawl. Gor tossed the vial into his mouth and carefully closed his jaw. Something crunched between his teeth and the mini ogre squeaked:

“Sorry, buddy, get ready for a load of pain and heartburn!”

Then Gor began to bulge and twitch too. However, he didn’t shrink as much as the ogre had. Given their original size difference, he should’ve ended about the size of one of my toes, but no, he was up to my belly button.

“That’s confusing,” said the mini ogre, scratching his head. “I guess my shrinking had an effect on the potion’s potency after all.”

“Who cares?” I said once I’d realized Gor would still fit down the shaft. “Come on, let’s go!”

I turned to face the door to Shuranid’s cell, not wanting to miss the Master’s entrance, but I soon heard desperate yelps from behind me:

“Commander, I need a hand!”

I turned back to see Gor jumping up to try and reach the hole in the wall and failing.

“It’s not easy being small, is it?” I said with a chuckle as I went to help him.

“I really don’t know how you live like this,” Gor agreed.

“We manage somehow,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “But aren’t you meant to be an assassin who can run up walls and even across ceilings sometimes?”

“I’m only a beginner assassin,” said Gor without the slightest embarrassment.

I gave the little char-ra a hand, or more accurately, just shoved him into the elevator shaft. Judging by the sound, he went flying down. That was when the Master appeared.

“Shuranid! Have you chosen to flee?”

“Not just chosen, I’m already fleeing,” said the ogre with a shrug of his shoulders.

The currently tiny giant’s ability not to give a shit about anything was a quality I really admired. However, I didn’t have time to think about it, as all my attention was firmly focused on the Master of the Dungeon. I hadn’t seen a goblin like that before. He wasn’t quite as tall as a full-size Shuranid, but he certainly matched Gor in height — a normal-sized Gor, obviously. His armor glowed orange.

“Grumbler, what’s with the color?”

“Legendary! He’s dressed entirely in Legendary armor!” said the flying ball with a note of awe in her voice. Apparently, she’d finally crashed. She didn’t even gloat about how we were all about to die. As if it had been waiting for our assistant to finish, the local System then presented its own conclusions about the monster before us:

Legendary Master

Main boss of the Pyramid of Sharaja

Level 12

“It looks like somebody broke the system,” I muttered under my breath. “What about the Level 11 limit on the Dungeon?”

But I was just thinking out loud, and it was time to act. I pointed at the master and shouted: “Little Bald, fire! Don’t spare the ammunition!”

I grabbed the mini ogre, who by then was shouting all sorts of words at the Master in a language unfamiliar to me. Judging by his intonation, though, they were mostly swear words.

Little Bald wasn’t hanging around — he immediately spat out a volley of fireballs, flooding the place with vivid flames. The Master and his minions, all glowing Level 9 purple, didn’t take any damage, but it did make them pause — apparently it was a while since they’d been in a fight, and the fact that someone had dared to open fire on them was causing them a little shock.

“You will die, collector!” roared the Master underwhelmingly.

“Fuck you!” I shouted at him over my shoulder and raised a middle finger before diving headfirst into the elevator shaft, barely managing to attach the carabine in time.

The captain leaves the sinking ship last — that’s what my old man used to say when he was the last to drop from the table after drinking sessions with his army buddies. I went flying down the shaft in style.

The Master’s shouts could be heard from far above, echoing down the empty shaft. I raced down and onward to new adventure, holding the mini ogre — who continued an uninterrupted stream of fierce obscenities — under my arm, with my faithful dracat bombing down close behind me. If only I could get a photo, I’d be able to show it to my grandkids one day: “Look, there’s Grandpa Max outdoing himself!” Still, I had a lot of surviving to do before I could think about grandkids. Ahead of us was the first floor of the Dungeon, and something was definitely going on down there.

I heard Bellatrice’s voice, but it was unusually thin, whining pathetically. I was very surprised — what could’ve scared her like that? However, when I unclipped my carabine and slipped into her workshop, I immediately understood what was going on. The Level 11 engineer Bellatrice Dorockit was pretending to be an innocent victim. She had wrapped herself in chains again and was standing in the middle of the room, wailing:

“Help, save me, they’re killing me! Don’t come anywhere near me or they’ll capture you too!”

Behind her stood a tense Lyra with her shield half raised. Peaking nervously out from behind Bellatrice on the other side was mini Gor, in his crab pose again and, due to his current size, looking more like a real crab than ever.

As I soon realized, however, it wasn’t Lyra’s shield that was currently protecting them all, it was Bellatrice herself, because opposite them stood two powerful bosses that the local System identified for me as: Gurtin Lyrack, Second Floor Boss, and Holita Jorith, Third Floor Boss. Both of them were Level 11. The second-floor boss was a warrior and — judging by his shield, full armor, and sword — a close combat expert. The third-floor boss looked quite a lot like the shaman we’d encountered in what was now our village. Of course, the rags that unfortunate shaman had been wearing were nothing compared to the purple-glowing accoutrements of this one. My heart skipped a beat and chills ran down my spine — I had absolutely no idea how we could deal with these two bosses. Improvisation was the only option.

Not giving anyone any time to think and not letting go of the mini ogre, I raced forward to the center of the room, grabbed Bellatrice’s chain, and roared:

“Everyone, follow me!” I began to drag the engineer toward the exit. Fortunately, the workshop was big, and the bosses weren’t standing straight in front of the door, having already moved slightly to the left.

“Nobody move if you don’t want me to hurt your friend!” I shout, moving as fast as I could.

My companions followed me, and I whispered into Bellatrice’s ear:

“Why aren’t you fighting them?”

“Are you an idiot?” she answered, also whispering. “What if you lose? Then I’ll be punished. At least this way there’s a chance the punishment will be mild, and I’ll soon get back to my workshop.”

“You little coward!” I hissed furiously.

“The brave don’t live long,” she answered with a chuckle.

My maneuver was successful right up until we got close to the exit. Then both bosses came to life. I couldn’t remember their names, so I called the second-floor boss Knight and the third-floor boss Shaman. Knight slammed his sword on his shield and stamped with his foot, sending a stun wave rolling across the room. It sent both Gor and Lyra tumbling to the ground.

I managed to stay upright because I was holding on to Bellatrice by the scruff of the neck, and she was able to withstand the wave thanks to her level. It was a good thing she kept moving in the right direction. Next, Shaman raised his staff, and a glowing green skull came floating toward us, laughing unpleasantly. Bellatrice ran and, due to our difference in height, I was dragged along the floor behind her. At the last minute, I let go of the chain, and the laughing skull flew straight over my head into the goblin’s back.

“Ow!” she shouted, stumbling. “What the hell?”

Still, Level 11 versus Level 11 was a fair fight, and as I could see, Bellatrice hadn’t taken any particular damage from the skull attack. I got the sense that if it’d had hit any of us, we’d have been in real trouble.

“Don’t just stand there, run!”

The mini ogre, who I’d dropped during the attack, raced past us. My friends were back on their feet too.

“What are you doing, assholes?” shouted Bellatrice. “I’m on your side!”

“Ba-ha-ha!” roared Shaman, launching another skull at her.

“You dick!” she said as she dodged the attack.

I scrambled back to my feet.

“I think the amnesty’s over, Bellatrice. We need to get the hell out of here before they put an end to you.”

This seemed to get the goblin even more angry.

“I’ve had enough of this!” she shouted and waved her hand.

Hatches opened in the ceiling and floor, out of which came mechanical arms. Of course, I’d forgotten we were in the engineer’s own customized workshop. The arms set straight to attacking the other bosses. One had a circular saw at the end, while another was clearly for welding. Another still had what looked like a big soldering iron on it. Others had electric shockers, while some just stabbed and grabbed at the goblins, helping to distract them.

“Run!” shouted Bellatrice, pointing to the exit.

“Aren’t we going to kill the bosses?” I asked, surprised. I’d been looking forward to a nice pile of loot from the two of them.

“Are you an idiot?” asked Bellatrice once again. “I don’t want to die, especially not here. So, thanks to you, you fool, my only choice now is to run. Those mechanical arms won’t hold them for long.”

“Got it. And no, I’m not an idiot. If I was, I wouldn’t get it. Ladies and gentlemen, let’s keep moving!”

We rushed along the spiral corridor in the direction of the vestibule. On the way, I picked Shuranid back up again. He was doing his very best, but his little legs couldn’t move fast enough to keep up.

“Thank you, Max,” said the ogre politely. “Somehow, I haven’t taken much exercise recently. I’ll have to get back in shape.”

“Yes, you will,” I said, gasping for breath, “but first let’s get out of here.”

As we came close to the vestibule, I suddenly realized I had absolutely no idea how we were going to get through it. The goblins were only Level 5 there, but there was a shitload of them. If they all turned on us at once, we’d just drown in a sea of green, before we’d had the chance to bend this world to our will. It’d be an almighty failure to escape those Level 11 bosses and the Level 12 Master just to perish at the hands of Level 5 assholes that we shouldn’t even be using for target practice. Anyway, enough of all this nonsense! Nothing bad was going to happen to us! We’re the Selected, after all. No-name freaks aren’t going to kill the Selected. Are they?

Chapter 14

BELLATRICE WAS SHOWING no signs of slowing down. I kept my foot on the gas, with my friends behind me. Gor really had to pump his legs to keep up, but he was managing it somehow. Which was good, because I doubt I could’ve carried him too.

However, when I ran out into the vestibule, I suddenly felt a wave of hope flood over me. The reason why was that the whole horde of goblins, who had even set up barricades to stop us, were kneeling with their butts in the air and their heads on the ground to great the big boss. Bellatrice, meanwhile, was waving around some torch victoriously. As soon as the light of this “torch” touched any part of the barricade, that part disappeared, even the pieces that looked like they weighed several hundred pounds. Now that was really advanced Forraging!

When they caught sight of us, the goblins started shouting, at which point Shuranid decided to get involved. He suddenly started wriggling in my grip, shot out from under my arm and climbed up to wrap his legs around my neck. Despite his shrinking, he was still a Level 11 monster, and his grip was fierce.

“You’re suffocating me, asshole!” I hissed, but the ogre didn’t hear me.

“We’re departing from these lands, my children! Stay hungry, stay thirsty, strive to attain what you deserve, and one day you can take our places and become bosses who will have plenty of water, plenty of food, and plenty of gorgeous goblin ladies!”

It worked. Those goblins who were already clutching at their weapons stopped open-mouthed to listen to their admittedly shrunken but still authoritative boss. One of them even started drooling. In the meantime, I wasn’t standing still. I did slow down, trying not to draw attention to myself by running, but I kept up a very fast walk as I hurried after Bellatrice, who was marching ahead and confidently removing all the trash in front of us. Very close to me, Lyra walked with her shield up, protecting our right flank, while Gor scuttled crablike on the other side of me, covering the left flank. Pressing close, our tightly knit group made its way to the waystone.

“Don’t thank me,” said a smiling Bellatrice, nodding to the portal. “Go on, get us out of here.”

I poked a finger into the waystone and quickly selected our village.

“In you go,” I said, making way for my companions. There’s nothing you can do about it, once you’re announced you’re the captain, you’ll always be the last to leave the sinking ship, no matter how many times it sinks.

“Stop!” I heard in the distance, as Knight and Shaman came charging out of the pyramid and racing toward us. Unlike us, they didn’t have to clear their path of debris, and the goblins that were standing in their way, staring after us rapturously, were knocked aside like bowling pins.

I didn’t like that one bit.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Go fuck yourselves!” I shouted, just before I jumped into the portal.

When I came out on the other side, the first thing that I did was to shove my hand back in the portal and shout: “Block the waystone! Launch the process of detaching the portal from the village and reattaching it to the Wild Gnomes’ Dungeon!”

A notification appeared from the System:

Attention! This waystone has been reset at the owner’s request. The process for attaching it to a new location has been initiated. Duration: 12 hours.

“Thank God for that,” I said, taking a deep breath and dropping down onto my ass. We’d worked up a sweat there. The mini ogre hopped neatly down from my left shoulder and look around with interest.

“So, where is this exactly?”

“Welcome, my lord!” said a voice from beside me.

I turned to see three pairs of bulging eyes. Looking at us with absolute incredulity were Carl, Martha, and Steve. Well, it was good to see that Steve had managed to deliver the waystone, but judging by their looks, the gnomes hadn’t expected us to use it to bring them a goblin and an ogre.

“Are we going to die?” asked Martha in a sad voice.

“Why would you?”

Martha nodded to Bellatrice, who was circling the room like she owned the place, sniffing here and there, picking up stones, weighing them in her hands, and tapping on the walls. It looked like my engineer had already begun her assessment of the Dungeon.

“Oh right, no,” I said, “these are our friends. Let me introduce Bellatrice.”

“That would be Mrs. Dorockit to you,” muttered the goblin to the gnomes as she wandered past, still intent on her business.

“And this would be Mr…” Looking at the ogre, Carl was momentarily lost for words. “How should I address you, sir?”

“There’s no need to ‘sir’ me,” said the ogre with a friendly laugh. “Just call me Shuranid. Pleased to meet you, I’m an alchemist.”

He stepped forward, holding out his hand. The gnomes shrank back.

“This is the first time I’ve seen such a small ogre. My dear Shuranid, were you sick as a child?” asked Carl, staring at the ogre. The gnomes were hardly large, but the ogre currently reached up to their waists.

“What?” said the ogre, frowning. “Oh, right, no. I just shrank for a bit. So, I’m an alchemist. Where’s your alchemy laboratory?”

“Umm, it’s airing out at the moment,” said Carl.

“Airing out, that’s good…” The ogre froze for a second, then looked at me a little sheepishly. “Before I go to my workplace, would you mind if I go outside and take a look at the sun? I haven’t seen it for several years.”

“What are you asking for?” I said, surprised.

“Well, you’re my master now, aren’t you? Even if it is only temporary. You tell me where to go and what to do.”

“What the hell?” I said. “You’re a free man… I mean, a free ogre. You can do whatever you want.”

“I don’t get it. What’s the point in being a master then?”

“Fuck knows,” I said, scratching my head. “I haven’t worked it out yet. But it’s definitely not stopping my subordinates from getting fresh air and basking in the sun.”

“Is that right?” asked Shuranid, lost in thought for second. “You’re going to make a good master, Max.”

“Lord,” said Carl quietly, leaning in the direction of the ogre’s ear.

“What?”

“Lord Max,” Carl told him. “If you call him anything else, he gets pissed.”

The ogre shot me a look and shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, lord’s fine with me. Anyway, it’s alright if I go out for a bit, is it?”

“Of course it is,” I said, laughing.

The mini ogre trotted off to the exit.

“Gor,” I said quietly.

“Yes, commander?” said the mini crab, scuttling over to me.

“It’s not that I don’t trust him, but I’m not a hundred percent certain he’s right in the head. Could you keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t get lost?”

“Understood, commander,” said Gor, and went after Shuranid.

“A mini ogre and a mini char-ra,” giggled Lyra, but quietly, so they couldn’t hear.

“Funny, isn’t it?” I said, watching the two little dears wander off in the direction of the exit.

The waystone had been set up on the top floor, close to the Dungeon’s exit. Obviously, that was sensible. Why let strangers into your holy of holies? Out here they could be checked and processed. Furthermore, I could see that work was in full swing to rebuild the barrier that, judging by the ruins, had clearly existed here before the gnome’s Dungeon had fallen into decline.

From now on, the goblins wouldn’t be tramping backward and forward through here like it was a public footpath. From now on, they’d be my goblins, and they’d only go where I allowed them to. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I really had become a lord, and a lord of two races, what’s more. And of one small elf girl. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the happy, carefree Aelyria. You know what? I felt pretty damn good about it.

* * *

Bellatrice took up her duties as the tribe’s engineer with suspicious calm. I had been expecting trouble, but there was none. Unlike the freedom-loving ogre, the goblin had no urgent need for sunshine. Goblins are cave dwellers. She found the cave she was now in entirely to her liking. Sure, she grumbled that she’d have to work with all this junk, that she needed to start from scratch, that once again everyone was relying on poor Bellatrice, but she said it all with a strange kind of satisfaction. You got the sense that she really loved a good challenge, and right now, rebuilding her workshop in this rundown Dungeon was definitely one of those.

“Here,” she said, handing me a long list.

“What’s this?” I asked, staring at the incomprehensible symbols.

“That’s everything you need to buy so that I can work properly.”

“I don’t speak goblin.”

“Some help you are,” she sighed taking the list back again.

A pen appeared in the air and, with remarkable speed, rewrote the whole list, this time in human language. Or, at least, I think it was human. I still wasn’t sure. Anyway, in a language that I understood. I looked at the list again, but even though the letters were now familiar, and I could see that they formed words, the words still meant nothing to me.

“What,” I asked, taking just one example, “is a flux-i-ca-tor?”

“Savages,” she said bitterly. “A fluxicator is an essential tool for getting the reactor to operate stably at high power. Do you see one here?”

She jabbed a finger at the column of the reactor.

“No, I don’t,” I admitted.

“You don’t see one because there isn’t one, idiot.”

I said nothing, knowing that even if there were a fluxicator in the room, I wouldn’t see it because I had no idea what the hell a fluxicator looked like.

I was so confused that it took me a while to decipher the next word, even though it wasn’t complicated.

“Oh, a wrench! I know what one of those is.”

“Of course you do,” said Bellatrice, frowning. “After all, I had to give mine to Gor. That’s why you need to buy me a new one. Preferably a Legendary one.”

“What?” I said, taken aback.

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” She rolled her eyes. “A Legendary wrench is exactly what I need.”

“Do you realize how much that would cost?”

“No, but why should I care?” she asked, shrugging her shoulders. “You’re my boss now, so you have to provide me with food, accommodation, and the tools required for my work. You’ll notice that I haven’t mentioned anything about kids or bonuses. We can discuss that later. But you won’t be getting out of it, he-he.”

She turned away and went back to her goblin-engineer business. I kept staring at the list in shock. Apparently, rather than solving one of my problems, I’d just got myself a whole load of new ones.

“Hey, Bellatrice!” I shouted at her back. “Just tell me one thing — the reactor isn’t going to explode, is it?”

“No, no, it isn’t,” she said. Then she giggled, “Well, I don’t think it will.”

With that, she disappeared under an archway. Very goddamn funny. All that remained was to rely on her sense of self-preservation. Bellatrice struck me as a person — or rather a goblin — who really loved living. If there was genuinely any chance the reactor could blow up, she wouldn’t stay here a second longer than necessary. So, we’d probably live. I rolled up the list.

To save myself a second trip downstairs, I went to the alchemy lab, where the still miniature ogre was now master of all he surveyed. However, I didn’t reach the laboratory immediately, because there were two goblin warriors standing outside it who politely stopped me and said the alchemist had asked them to give me this and tell me to drink it before I went any further. I looked at the little flask, looked up ahead, sniffed the air, and realized that the lab still hadn’t aired out sufficiently yet. The ogre was making sure I didn’t go and kill myself. There was no indication I had any reason not to trust him, so I drank the completely tasteless liquid and headed into the lab.

When I got inside, I was very glad I’d drunk his mixture. The air was a lot more fetid in there. Still, Shuranid was working on the problem. He wandered around the room with a little atomizer, spraying into the air, and turning the toxic vapor into a fine powder. This was a real alchemist at work, able to find an antidote to any filth whatsoever.

“Oh, hi Max! I mean, my lord!” smiled the ogre. “I’ve been expecting you. Here, take one. Better still, take two and come help me with both hands.”

Well, a lord’s duties aren’t just to issue orders, but also to take care of his lieges and his estates. So, without complaint, I picked up the spray bottles and began to move around the room with them. Soon all the air was completely cleared.

“Right, now I can get to work,” said the ogre, crossing his arms and looking around. “And there’s plenty of work for me to do. Whoever the last alchemist was here, he was a useless oaf who couldn’t even pick out proper equipment. I mean, who in their right mind makes a mortar out of kiranite, when everybody knows maralite is the best material?”

“Who, indeed,” I said helpfully.

“Right, you get it! And look at these flasks, Max. This is just regular volcanic glass. That won’t withstand a thousand degrees. In my experiments, they’ll only be good enough for brewing love potions. Basically, I need new equipment and resources.”

“Yes, I get the idea.” I sighed heavily and handed him the sheet. “Here’s your colleague’s list. You can write yours on the other side.”

“Hmm,” said the ogre, looking over what Bellatrice had written and looking up at me. “You do realize that what she wrote here is a wish list, don’t you? You’re not actually obligated to fulfil it.”

“What do you mean by ‘not obligated’?” I send in surprise.

“Well, Bellatrice wants to increase her abilities at your expense without actually doing anything. In reality, she can make half of this herself. She just needs the parts. Or even just the materials. But she doesn’t want the extra work, so she’s putting it all on you.”

“That cunning bitch! So, how do I work out what I do and don’t need to buy?”

“Oh, you can’t,” said the ogre, shrugging his shoulders. “Just don’t buy anything, and when she comes begging, then insist that you don’t have any money. She’ll offer ways to make things cheaper herself, and in the end, you’ll reach an optimal agreement. She’ll have to work a little, though.”

“Damn, I didn’t realize I could do that.”

“Of course you can. Bear in mind that Bellatrice can’t sit still, so she’ll start nagging in about two hours. So, by this evening, you should have a normal list of materials that won’t break the bank.”

“Thank you, Shuranid. I really appreciate your help.”

“Sure. Now, here’s my list.” The ogre repeated Bellatrice’s trick, but instead of a ballpoint pen, he had the feather of some unknown bird flying around. The ink was a weird green color too. “Here, a list of my greatest wishes.”

I frowned. Pleased with his joke, the ogre laughed.

“Hey, I’m kidding! This is just the absolute necessities. I’ll need Bellatrice’s help here and there to get what I need. On the other hand, she won’t be able to manage without me. So, we can barter between ourselves for that. You’re good to go, collector.”

“Alright, thanks,” I said thoughtfully, then I remembered something: “Shuranid, I haven’t forgotten that I promised to get your family here. The only thing is, where do we find them?”

“Hey, it’s too early for that,” said the mini ogre, shrugging his shoulders. “Do you really think I could bring my wife and kids to this cave? I need to find myself a separate wing and fit it out. Then I need to sort out the village where they’ll be living and working. Maybe I’ll have to renovate or modernize some things there. Once I’ve got everything ready, then we’ll work out how to get them here.”

“Right, so how long will you need for that? And, more importantly, how much is it going to cost?”

I suddenly realized I was beginning to develop a paranoia. I hadn’t expected that being a lord would turn out so expensive. Now there was a catch in every issue.

“Everything will be ready once it’s ready,” said Shuranid, then waved me away with his hand. “Go on then, Max, get out the way. I need to clean up in here.”

His gesture brought two brooms to life, and they began racing around the room, collecting up trash and the scattered green dust. It was a good trick. Maybe I could learn it. Then, if I lost my job as a collector, I could open Max & Co. Cleaning. The clients would love it.

What was next on my to-do list? Next was having a rest. The portal was being configured, and I wasn’t planning on going anywhere until Gor got back to regular size. Besides, I felt like I’d earned a rest. The only thing I had to do first was to give my new vassals their orders.

I set out to do just that. When I reached the throne room, I heard angry voices. I went inside to find Carl and Steve both red-faced with rage, shouting at each other, and a very contented Martha, who was sitting on her throne and watching the two angry male gnomes with great interest.

“I’ll rip your beard off, asshole!” shouted Carl.

“She’s mine!” roared Steve, hopping with rage. “You never paid her any attention! You were always after the young Matriarch!”

“That dirty old horndog!” said Martha, suddenly coming to life. “Go on, Steve, the scales are tipping in your favor.”

“What?!” shouted a very offended Carl. “Martha, you and I had an agreement! We had a wonderful night together!”

“Shhh!” said Martha, her eyes wide with fear. “That’s another point against you. The matriarch’s private life is not for public discussion.”

“But you swore that you loved me. You said we’d get married and have loads of kids!”

There was a note of desperation in Carl’s voice.

“That was last night, and I wasn’t quite myself then,” said Martha shamelessly.

“With him?” whined Steve. “Martha, how could you?”

“What was I supposed to do? He’s the only free gnome, and how long was I sitting in that cage for?” said Marth. She began to count on her fat fingers, then waved her hand dismissively. “Ah, there’s no way of counting. But it was a long time. I needed to unwind.”

“Well, I wasn’t just hanging out either. I was sitting in the goblins’ jail and waiting for them to eat me. What’s more, I went to kill the goblins on your orders!”

“What can I say?” mused Martha, shrugging her shoulders. “None of us had it easy.”

“You slut!” shouted Steve, unable to contain himself.

“Watch your mouth!” roared Carl.

“How dare you?” added Martha.

Finally, I interrupted them: “All of you, shut the hell up! My head’s aching from this soap opera you’ve got going on here. Come on, tell me what’ve you’ve done and what you’re planning to do. You lord doesn’t have much time and before he goes to rest, he wants to give you some important instructions. So, take it in turns and keep it short. Otherwise, your lord will get angry and find more suitable candidates for your positions. Martha, let’s start with you. What do we need to do to get my tribe’s name back? Yes, you heard right, my tribe. If you’re going to keep corrupting the young and innocent, I’ll put Lyra on your throne. Or have you forgotten how they all stared at her? Uh huh, I thought not. Alright, I’m listening. How do I get a name for the tribe, and how do me and my group get access to the treasury? And this time, don’t even think about telling me it’s impossible, or I’ll kill you all!”

Chapter 15

“SOME COLLECTOR DICTATING his terms to us? Unbelievable!”

“Get him out of here!”

“Don’t forget to fleece him first!”

“Freedom to the dictatorship!”

The clown show that the council of gnomes put on for us was astoundingly dumb. The waystone had finished configuring, and our Dungeon finally appeared in the general network. Now, when you went to select the destination of travel, a huge list of available cities and towns appeared. However, as Martha explained, the first thing we should do was not head to one of the cities of the great clans of collectors, but to the small town of Zuritain, which was the seat of the high council of gnomes. This was the body that granted and rescinded the names of tribes. So that was where we went — without a name, I couldn’t become the fully-fledged owner of our Dungeon. We were received respectfully and not left to wait ten hours while the council gathered. Things changed pretty fast, however, when I announced my demands. On discovering that the stationary Dungeon near the Pyramid of Sharaja had not just survived, but also regained its waystone, they began to fret, swear, point fingers at me, and even threaten us. The cunning little bastards were talking in their own language, naively assuming that we, despite being representatives of the nameless tribe, wouldn’t understand them. When I got tired of listening to yet another brilliant idea for how to rip us off, I addressed them in fluent gnomish:

“You know, Miss Bellatrice Dorockit, who stands here next to me, is getting rather tired. Her time in the Pyramid of Sharja wasn’t easy on her and has played havoc with her nerves. I’m going to translate all the nonsense that’s going on here for her, and I worry that the gnome world may soon require a new high council. Bellatrice, here’s the thing…”

“Dungeon owner, stop!” said the head of the council, jumping to his feet. “Do you mean you understand our language?”

“Is that really your greatest concern right now?” I snorted.

“What are these sly assholes wittering about?” asked the goblin. “I bet they’re plotting something. Especially the main one. Just look at his shifty little eyes flickering. He thinks he’s scented prey, doesn’t he?

Originally, I’d planned to go sort out the new name for our tribe with just Gor and Lyra, but when she heard about our trip, Bellatrice asked if she could join us. Well, she didn’t actually ask, she just announced that she was coming too. Neither I nor my companions had much desire to argue with a crazy Level 11 engineer. The crowd of gnomes parted before our pet monster like ice before an icebreaker. The ones who didn’t have time to move just went flying. Bellatrice didn’t really have to do anything, she just walked forward, giving the stragglers a kick in the butt. Most importantly, nobody tried to stop her. Some of them even bowed down to avoid being kicked. That was real respect! Or was it fear — I guess it depends how you look at it.

It was probably because of Bellatrice that they’d agreed to see us so quickly in the first place — just four hours after we arrived in Zuritain. In fact, they wanted to receive us straight away, but Bellatrice announced that she wanted to see the sights of the gnomes’ capital. None of us had any desire to argue with a Level 11 monster, so we took a tour. And I was actually grateful to our goblin engineer, as her irrepressible desire to visit everything took us to some truly beautiful and interesting places that we’d never have seen otherwise. There were no collectors in the town — the external System’s beings weren’t particularly welcome here.

“They don’t want to give us a name,” I told the assembled company at the top of my voice. “They want to rip us off and stick the knife in.”

“Rip us off? Rip me off?!” Bellatrice went black with rage, and even got a little bit bigger. The gnomes of the high council hung their bearded heads, which made them look like tree stumps. And they were just as wooden and thick. The high council consisted of ten gnomes, all of whom were Level 9. The two-level difference decided everything, and they really didn’t want to upset our engineer.

“Don’t kill them all just yet, let’s give them one more chance,” I said performatively. Bellatrice might have looked terrifying and dangerous, but I knew that the worst she could do was to give everyone a good smacking. She definitely wouldn’t kill anyone. But the gnomes didn’t know that. Let those little bearded assholes sweat a little.

“Do they really deserve another chance?” Bellatrice wasn’t letting up. She threw the head of the council a fierce look. The gnome responded quickly. Without raising his head, he said:

“Tribe of Night Furies! Is that a good enough name?”

“Night Furies?” said Bellatrice thoughtfully and turned to look at me. After all, I was the one who had to make the decision.

“I don’t like it,” I said, prompting a lot of surprised looks. I think even Little Bald, who was contentedly snoozing on Gor’s shoulder, lifted up his head and gave a querying meow. I was forced to explain:

“Night Furies, Green Turtles, Courageous Beards, Fat-Assed Dimwits — you can keep those sorts of names for yourselves and your tribes. They’re not good enough for mine.”

I frowned and watched as the gnomes quickly wrote down the options I’d listed like they were some kind of revelation. I almost lost my train of thought, but then continued:

“The tribe in the Dungeon of nameless gnomes was freed by the group known as the Selected. That means that the tribe should bear the same name, in order to reflect the glory of our group. From now on, this tribe will be known as the Selected.”

“Gnomes?” said the head of the high council with great effort. “The Tribe of Selected Gnomes?”

“Are you dumb, you hairy old bastard?” demanded Bellatrice, her hands on her hips. “Maybe you’ve been drinking? Wipe your eyes — do you see any gnomes here?”

“Just ‘The Selected Tribe’?” Finally, the gnome did lift his head. “Isn’t that a little grand for a tribe that lives in a Level 2 dungeon? How many floors do you have? Five?”

“I must be hearing your wrong — you can’t be disagreeing with my lord’s decision, can you?” Bellatrice’s face took on such a wild expression that even the gnome’s beard turned pale, and he once again sank into his chair.

“Wait, the head of the gnome council does have a point of sorts,” I said placing my hand on Bellatrice’s shoulder to calm her rage. Although, to be honest, at that moment I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. I didn’t actually know the goblin engineer at all. What if something in her brain just clicked and she started to tear the whole place down?

The head of the high council crawled out from under the table again, interested in what I had to say.

“My matriarch is still young and inexperienced. There are some things she may not know. I’ve no intention of changing the name of the tribe. What better name could there be for a tribe that has a Level 11 engineer and alchemist?”

“You’ve got an alchemist too?” groaned the gnome.

“Yes, a huge ten-foot ogre, the former boss of the sixth floor of the Pyramid of Sharaja,” I said for the greatest effect. Going by the way the gnomes had even stopped breathing, my words had found their mark. Nobody was thinking anymore about kicking us out or ripping us off. In fact, all of them were now fully focused on how to get out of there alive.

“But that’s what we we’re here to talk about. Let’s get back to business — my matriarch. What if she doesn’t know what our Dungeon needs to develop? How about the high council taking her under its wing and teaching her everything that the matriarch of a Level 10 Dungeon needs to know, including how to get the Dungeon to Level 10?”

“That’s a sensible idea,” said the head of the high council warily, glancing at Bellatrice. “But what do we get out of it? We agree to confirm the name of the tribe, but what you’re asking for is well beyond simple help. It’s mentorship…”

“That will have to be paid for,” I said, finishing the gnome’s thought for him. Bellatrice made to move forward again, but this time I held her firmly back. What was it my old man used to say? “Easy come, easy go!” He was normally talking about his paycheck, which he pissed up a wall, but that’s not the point. It’s still a useful saying. I took a few steps forward and placed on the table one of the vials of potion that Shuranid had made for us. The one that permanently doubled experience received. We didn’t need that shit, that was quite clear now. Selling it to players didn’t seem like such a great idea — I didn’t want to give our rivals greater strength. Also, the way I saw it, putting limits on other collectors wasn’t right. We’d been given a warning that these vials weren’t such a positive benefit, but others wouldn’t know about that and they’d restrict their opportunities in the future. If they survived, of course. But that meant the only people I could reasonably offload these potions on were the local population of this world.

“That’s… that’s…” The head of the high council’s eyes were like two huge saucers. “But that’s impossible! The existence of this elixir is a myth.”

“It doesn’t matter whether it’s a myth or not. What matters is that I have the elixir and that I’m willing to give it to you as payment for the training of the head of my tribe. It’s vital that I have a powerful Dungeon led by a powerful matriarch, and not the young idiot that’s sitting there now with her mind on all kinds of nonsense. But I don’t want to replace here either — the Selected look after their own. So, do we have a deal?”

“We need time to consult,” said one of the gnomes, but the head of the council shushed him quickly.

“Alright, collector. We’ll do everything in our power to…”

“Wrong answer!” I interrupted. “You won’t do everything in your power, you’ll just make my matriarch powerful and capable of taking the Dungeon to Level 10. No ifs or buts. This is the payment for your work. If you do a good job, you’ll get extra.”

I placed the second vial next to the first. The third I was saving for Martha — with her low level, building a multi-floor Dungeon would be difficult. She’d need to level up faster.

“Do we have a deal?” I asked, removing the second vial and leaving the first on the table. “System, please make a record of our agreement. From now on, the tribe from the Wild Gnomes’ Dungeon by the Pyramid of Sharaja will be known, as the Selected, and the high council of gnomes from the wonderful town of Zuritain will take Martha, matriarch of my Dungeon, under their mentorship. They will teach her and prepare her to develop further. If the results are to my satisfaction, the high council will receive the second vial of the elixir to increase experience gained.”

From one side, I heard a strange sort of snorting noise from Grumbler. Our misery of a System still couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that somebody could just chat to the local System and that local System would answer them.

Agreement accepted

Just like that, with no fireworks or big announcements. The head of the high council of gnomes jumped to his feet. His fear of Bellatrice had vanished. Or rather, it was no longer that important. The gnome couldn’t think of anything except the elixir that was still standing on the table. Grabbing his loot, the gnome grunted happily, clutching the vial to his chest.

“Collector, take a walk for an hour or so,” he told me. “We’ll prepare the documentation to confirm your tribe’s name. We also need to work out a plan for your matriarch’s education. She’ll be the pride of our people!”

“And a bottomless pit that will swallow resources that could be used for developing the Dungeon,” snorted Bellatrice. “Max, you haven’t forgotten my requirements, have you?”

“No, I haven’t.” I turned to the goblin and held out the list. “Shuranid added the list of things he wants here too. Can you take a look and check he didn’t miss anything?”

“Shuranid?” said Bellatrice, her eyes twitching. “Did you talk to him?”

“Just look at the list,” I insisted. “What’s he left out?”

“Max…” Bellatrice was about to complain, but she noticed my fierce expression. Taking the sheet, she began to read Shuranid’s requirements. “Alright, let’s see what that lunkhead needs. Wait, what’s this? Why such a basic one? Pah! I’ll put this right. That ogre really doesn’t understand what he actually needs! He wrote a load of crap! But it can easily be corrected.”

It was funny to see how Bellatrice’s mood changed. If at first she looked like she’d been caught red-handed, then with every new point she was more and more back to her old self. It got to the point where Shuranid’s list of requirements was almost longer than Bellatrice’s own list.

“Now, that’s everything!” said the goblin happily, handing me back the list. “When will we get it all? I wouldn’t take too long, my lord, because we need to get to work. Now the matriarch’s going to learn all the wrong things, the development of the Dungeon will begin, and she’ll drain all your resources.”

“Which you want to do first, right?” I snapped back.

“Of course! The Master of the Pyramid of Sharaja was a tight-fisted and short-sighted tyrant! Serving someone like that, I couldn’t respect myself. Whenever I told him my requirements, he told me there were no resources, but I could see there were plenty! The greedy bastard! But you're not like that, my lord, are you? You can get your engineer the very best supplies, can’t you?”

“We’ll see,” I said. I wasn’t promising anything. I already had an idea how to proceed and now I had to put it into practice. The gnomes had fled from the assembly hall. It seemed probable that they were now getting into a fight to decide who was most worthy. There were ten gnomes on the council, of whom two had to be chosen. There was a good chance that the high council of gnomes was about to get significantly smaller.

“Right, seeing as we have a free hour, we should spend it well. I propose taking a stroll around the palace to see how the gnome rulers live. Who’s up for it?”

Bellatrice really was a very curious and active goblin. She was interested in everything, so there was no chance she’d want to sit around waiting for some useless piece of paper.

“I’m in,” said Lyra, who was the first to react. “There might be something beautiful.”

“I’ll come too,” rumbled Gor. “I’ve never seen a gnome town. Commander?”

“You go ahead, I need to have a little chat with Grumbler here. Take Little Bald with you.”

“With me?” said the flying ball, startled. “But I kinda wanted to look at the gnomes’ capital too. As you can see, there aren’t any collectors here, so there isn’t that much information about Zuritain in the external database.”

“How would you know? You don’t have access to the database anymore,” I reminded her. Judging by the way she turned gray, Grumbler was offended. “Anyway, you all go, and we’ll wait for you here. You can tell us what you saw later.”

Because I wasn’t going, Lyra wanted to stay, but I managed to persuade her to go for a walk. I didn’t want the elf girl to see me fuck up. For her, the commander had to remain grand and powerful, and I had serious doubts about the plan I’d thought up.

Finally, me and Grumbler were alone.

“So?” said Grumbler in her most annoying voice. “What do you want?”

“I need the local System.”

“What’s that got to do with me? She doesn’t just come when I call. You’re the selected one here.”

“Grumbler, shut up and call the local System!”

“Do you want me to shut up or…” Seeing my expression, Grumbler stopped herself. “Alright, I’ll try. But I’m telling you straight up, I don’t know if it’ll work. The representative of the external System summons the local System! Do you receive me? There, see, Max? I told you she….”

“You called, warden of outcasts?” said a pleasant, deep voice. Another flying ball appeared next to us. While Grumbler spoke like a snarky girl of no more than twenty, the local System used the attractive voice of a grownup woman in her prime.

“Oh, it’s not me,” said Grumbler hurriedly, almost imperceptibly moving closer to me, as if she was trying to hide.

“I was the one who called,” I said. “Judging by our previous interactions, you can’t talk directly to collectors, only communicate through system notifications. But, as I understand it, we can chat through our assistant. Grumbler, repeat everything that I just said, word for word. I’m sure she can hear me, but she can’t answer.”

“Good move,” said the local System. Or rather, it was Grumbler that spoke the words, having received an unheard message from the new sphere. “This is acceptable. I really am not permitted to talk to collectors, even indirectly. But I can talk to the representative of the external System that is monitoring its wards.”

“I’m not happy about the fact that you sent us to the heads of the great clans after we exposed the vulnerabilities of the Pyramid of Sharaja. Why? You always gave us rewards before, why are you abandoning us now?”

“Violations of balance are one of the greatest dangers in our world. If I give you a reward commensurate with your actions, the balance will be disturbed. This will attract the attention of the external monitor. This is unacceptable, so I have no right to give you any items. The decision was taken to reward you with silirium, but in that regard I also have limitations — I don’t have a right to issue any outside an approved logical framework. That was why I placed the responsibility for rewarding your assistance on the heads of the great clans. Being a great clan isn’t just about privileges, there are responsibilities too. It’s time they remembered that. You will be rewarded ten million silirium. That’s enough to get by in the world of Vilion without any real problems.”

“You’re right when you say this is unacceptable. What happened to us in the Pyramid of Sharaja cannot be offloaded on to others. It’s part of the relationship between the Selected and the local System that permitted this mistake — that allowed two Level 11 bosses to flee from the pyramid and join our tribe. I need items. I don’t need silirium. Seeing that you let two powerful bosses become part of my tribe, it would only be fair to be provide them with everything they need. Here’s a list of what they want. As you can see, it’s not me that wrote this. These are the requirements of the bosses who left the Pyramid of Sharaja. This won’t in any way affect the balance of the world — us collectors won’t receive anything from this list. A Level 11 being can’t be expected to operate with limited resources. If I’m to give them the materials they need, then please provide them with the instruments. I think that would be reasonable compensation for exposing the vulnerabilities in your system.”

“That’s an interesting list,” said the local System as soon as Grumbler had read her all our requirements. “So, you want to provide your employees with everything that they demand? Even though you know full well that this list is excessive? Ten million silirium, collector Max. Are you sure that you can look collector Aelyria in the eyes and explain why she won’t be visiting the external System’s VIP Lounge?”

“I’ve presented my demands. Attracting the attention of the great clans, forcing them into debt, or demanding stuff for myself — none of that interests me. Because of the problems with the Pyramid of Sharaja, I now have two new employees. Just make it so that they can work effectively. That’s my first demand.”

“First? You mean there’s something else?”

“Naturally. What you said about balance was right — I’m not planning to ask for anything for collectors. I’m not planning to ask for anything more for my employees — they’re already getting everything they need.”

“Well then, what?” Apparently, I’d managed to surprise the local System.

“Grumbler. In the Pyramid of Sharaja, she was continuously motivating us to excel. She deserves a reward.”

“Excel? She kept telling you that you were going to die!”

“Which was very motivating for us,” I agreed. “I’m not asking much — Grumbler’s almost perfect as she is. But almost and perfect aren’t the same thing. Without access to external information, she’s very limited in what she can do. Basically, as a reward for all the help she’s given us, I’m asking you to restore her connection with the external System, or at least to its data about this world. Grumbler is already an access point, an inventory, a notebook, and a wonderful companion, but without knowledge of the world of Vilion, she’s severely limited. I think that, by her actions, Grumbler has earned the right to be connected to her creator.”

“Max…” whispered Grumbler, but before she could say anything more for herself, she had to relay the local System’s words.

“Your requests are interesting, collector, but I don’t understand them. What do you need all this for? If I agree with your first requirement, then items your new employees get will be theirs and theirs only. You won’t be able to take them, and neither will anyone else. If I agree to your second requirement, you also won’t get anything except for some fairly useless knowledge. The external System’s communications with your Grumbler will still be limited. So, why do you want all this? Why don’t you want to take the ten million silirium? It’s a fair reward.”

“Because it’s not right,” I explained. “The great clans aren’t to blame for your blunder. As for the rest, as far as I know, we can’t take anything with us into the next world, except for what remains in our memories. I want that to be something right and pleasant.”

“Right for you, but not for your group.”

“They’ll understand and agree with my decision,” I said confidently. “Our group is quite special. We have exactly the same attitude to life and to what’s happening to us. Although… I do have one question: what do we need to do so that Little Bald can come with us to the VIP Lounge? The dracat is just as much a member of our team as me, Lyra or Gor, but he doesn’t get any bonuses. That’s not fair.”

“Is that your third demand?”

“It’s a question. I only have two demands. In the case of Little Bald, I’m willing to fulfil some requirements. I don’t like the way our team gets unequally rewarded, even though everyone puts in the same amount of effort. I want to put that right.”

“Your words have been heard, collector,” announced Grumbler. Then she was quiet for while. “Max! I got access! I’m connected to the external System again!”

Watching the ball of light bounce up and down was fun, but I was waiting for more. Had I really managed it? To be honest, I hadn’t been expecting positive results, I’d just wanted to test the length of the leash we were on.

You have been given a reward for finding a logical error in your quest. To claim it, ask your assistant.

You have a new quest: Travel to the External System. Your dracat is a rare and endangered species on the world of Vilion. Register your pet with the menagerie master of any town, obtain a veterinary passport, get all the necessary vaccinations, and your pet will be granted the right to visit the external System’s VIP Lounge.

Warning! To be granted the right to visit the external System’s VIP Lounge, your pet must be able to speak (this ability unlocks at Level 8).

“Max, I have the rewards for Bellatrice and Shuranid. It’s two boxes,” said Grumbler, opening the inventory in front of me, where two new items had appeared. Working out which was which was easy — one had a wrench on it, the other an alchemist’s flask. The local System had decided not to put the items in my hands, but she’d given me a “link” where I could claim them. That was fine too.

Turning around, I saw that the second ball of light had vanished. That was the end of our conversation with the local System, but now I knew how I could get in touch with her. A short while later, everyone returned to the assembly hall — ten very disheveled gnomes (who’d clearly pounded the crap out of each other) and all my group. While the gnomes were taking their seats and glaring at each other, I went to talk to Bellatrice.

“We need to discuss your requirements,” I told her. The goblin sighed and shrugged guiltily:

“Well, it was worth a try, wasn’t it? Alright, give me the list, and I’ll show you what you can cross off.”

“Your requirements have been met in full, engineer. Everything that you asked for is here.”

I extracted the container from the inventory and handed it to the crazy goblin. Judging by the way she gulped, it had the desired effect.

“But how?” whispered Bellatrice. “It’s not just that it all costs an insane amount, a lot of it’s almost impossible to find. Where did you get all this?”

“That’s not your problem. You asked for materials and instruments, and I got them for you. Now, turn to your right.”

Bellatrice turned and found herself face-to-face with Gor, who had been listening in on our conversation.

“I’m giving you a week to teach our engineer all the key aspects of engineering. Gor has to have if not all, then the greater part of the knowledge and skills that you have. How you achieve that is none of my concern. Everything that you wanted I got you. Exactly as your crazy list requested. Now it’s time to pay me back. And Gor’s education isn’t all I want from you. We’re planning to travel around Vilion, and doing that on foot is inconvenient. I need a self-propelled machine that can accommodate our whole team. It has to be all-terrain and comfortable to travel in.”

“But my lord…” began the goblin, but who was going to listen to her now?

“Did you get your tasks? Then get on with them! Gor, this concerns you too. For now, you’re going to be with Bellatrice. You demonstrated how useful you already are, but you can learn to be even more so.”

“Collector, we’re ready!” announced the head of the high council, distracting me from further discussion. “Here’s the document that bestows the name “the Selected” on your tribe. It’s registered and officially approved. We’re ready to go to your Dungeon, speak with your matriarch, and work out a strategy for her training. But I must tell you immediately that, in order for your Dungeon to flourish and level up, it will require a source of power. We’ll train your matriarch, but without a source of power, she won’t even be able to get the Dungeon to Level 3.

“You start the training, we’ll get hold of a source of power,” I told the gnomes. Once again, there was a strained silence in the assembly hall. Apparently, I’d said the wrong thing. Were sources of power really that rare in this world? I had an idea where I could find one. All we had to do now was pay the panthers a visit. Something had turned one of them into a Level 7 monster, and that something must’ve been some kind of source. Hopefully, just the kind our little bearded friends needed. The time had come to expand our power and announce it to the world.

Chapter 16

LIFE FLOWED ON SMOOTHLY, but interestingly. Just the way I wanted. Well, when I say “flowed”, it had only just started flowing — now I had my own Dungeon, my own village with a mine, and my own very promising employees.

It had only been a day and a night since we got back from Zuritain, but it had been the most peaceful twenty-four hours since my arrival in this unfriendly world.

The dumbfounded Shuranid and Bellatrice had shut themselves away in their workshops, fitting them and customizing them to their needs. I only just managed at the very last minute to shove Gor through the door of the engineer’s workshop, so he could help the goblin and start soaking up some knowledge.

As for Lyra and me, we just relaxed. Sure, my personal spa was still just a pipedream, but what was wrong with simple relaxation? After all, we deserved it. Instead of hanging around in the caves, I managed to get something like a tent off the gnomes, and we set up a little camp on the bank of the stream that we’d liberated from those godawful doves, as a good place to… well… Basically, when I wasn’t having a great time with the charming elf girl, I did some fishing and brewed soup with my catch and just enjoyed life. And now I know what it means to “see heaven shining like a jewel” (I think that’s Chekhov, by the way). Lyra showed me, actually. She really was a girl of many talents, and I was lucky to have her. I hope she felt the same about me. I certainly didn’t hear any complaints. Or many intelligible words, for that matter — mostly just oohs and aahs.

In short, a day and night of relaxation restored my natural interest in life and, more importantly, my physical and spiritual wellbeing.

The System counted the Dungeon quest as completed in full, placing the Dungeon in its entirety in my hands, with the prospect of upgrading it to Level 10, scary as that might seem. Of course, the conditions for doing this were far from easy to meet — having a matriarch of matching level was the least of the issues facing us. But I was able to use a bonus! As a reward, we were offered either personal items for all of us, or reductions in the requirements to level up the Dungeon of the Selected. Yup, that was what our location was now officially called.

Grumbler’s restored connection with the external System also made life significantly easier. She was able to answer all sorts of questions, although when it came to the matter of transferring to new worlds, she had no information. To be more precise, when it came to choosing rewards, one question became exceptionally interesting — would our personal items go with us into the next world when we reached Level 10?

The answer was confounding. A collector disappears from this world with all their stuff. But do we get to keep them in the next world, or do they get lost in the transfer? That Grumbler couldn’t say.

For that reason, I chose “reduce requirements”. Furthermore, to upgrade the Dungeon to Level 3, nothing was needed except to boost the reactor to medium power. We already had an engineer and an alchemist, and their level and equipment meant that I didn’t have to worry about progress in the future. In that, at least, we were lucky.

We just had to collect the necessary quantity of silirium. I sold part of the goblin raid group armor that Steve had gotten his goblins to drag to the cave for three thousand silirium. Why only part? Because my gnome warriors looked like absolute bums, if you must know. I was going to have to cut some corners to get them properly equipped.

So, the maximum population of my new Dungeon at Level 2 was two thousand gnomes. Correspondingly, at Level 3 it would be three thousand, and so on. A Level 10 Dungeon with its ten thousand gnomes would be comparable to the gnome capital. But it was a long way to get there, just as it was to all of the capitals.

At that moment, we only had four hundred gnomes — there was a demographic crisis that would need to be solved in the nearest future by Martha and the seven gnomes. Or were there a few more than seven? I still really couldn’t understand the gnomes’ customs. The population of the Dungeon of the Selected consisted of Level 1 gnome miners, Level 2 gnome warriors, and Level 3 gnome veterans.

It was a little strange to see that the veterans were a higher level than the named gnomes, but that was exactly why I had two envoys from Zuritain. I couldn’t wrap my tongue around their gnome names — names which reflected all their great achievements — so I just called them Billy and Willy, which they accepted with equanimity. They were both Level 7 Gnome Counselors, which indicated how high up they were in the gnome hierarchy.

So, I sent Carl with Martha for training from them, but I decided to hold Steve back. I was already regretting that I’d made him head of the goblin village, although at the time I didn’t really have much choice. But now that decision was causing me problems. I had a named gnome in charge of the goblins who had his eye on our, for now, one and only matriarch. And our one and only matriarch had… well… what was the right word? A partner? Let’s say a partner, and one that couldn’t stand his rival. This developing soap opera was not at all to my liking, so I immediately dispatched Steve back to the village, with the promise that I’d visit him soon.

Anyway, getting back to silirium and loot, part of the looted armor had to go toward equipping my new army, to ensure they could look after themselves when I was away. It was somewhat comforting to think there were two Level 11 experts in the Dungeon, who would almost certainly not just sit on their hands if there was an attack, but it was still best to make sure. There were only two ways to get new armor and weapons — buy them in the store or let Carl make them himself. But in that case what did you need? That’s right — to either mine or buy resources. Either way, it was a vicious circle. Being a lord wasn’t easy.

In the end, counting the loot I’d sold, I had 32,513 units of silirium, which was a little less than required to level up the main reactor. So, we’d have to collect the rest. Now that I had a complete Dungeon, I also had a new menu option — Dungeon Management. It looked something like this:

Dungeon of the Selected

(Property of the Selected group of collectors)

Status: Main settlement

Appointed leader: Matriarch Martha (Level 2)

Level: 2

Population: 408/2000

Silirium revenue: 204(408) per hour

Resident specialists:

Blacksmith Carl (Level 2)

Engineer Bellatrice (Level 11)

Alchemist Shuranid (Level 11)

So, about the “revenue”: the System didn’t bother with careful calculations of the productivity of each of the gnome miners that made up the vast majority of the population of my Dungeon, it just awarded one unit of silirium per head per hour. Was that a lot or not? Well, it looked alright. In theory, we could’ve sat back and collected our passive income. But something told me that wouldn’t work in this world, that one way or another I’d be “motivated” into action by the System. Besides, I wasn’t planning on sitting around doing nothing. It was possible to split the “revenue” with a slider into “income” and “investment”. “Income” went straight to me and the group, while “investment” stayed in the gnomes’ treasury. I didn’t know what the gnomes needed silirium for, but to start with I just split it 50/50.

As for the treasury, that turned out to be a bummer. I had naively assumed that we would finally be getting access to the gnomes’ treasure store, where there were definitely more parts of Lyra’s set, but Martha said, “Yes, now everything that comes to the treasury is yours.” But what was already in there was “communal, so not yours.” It was irritating, but I had some ideas as to how we could get what we wanted, and I immediately put the first of them into practice.

Attention! You have received the Level Up Martha quest.

Each time the matriarch reaches a new level, you will obtain a reward from the gnomes’ old stocks.

Current progress: 2/10.

Warning! If the stocks are entirely exhausted, the reward will be canceled.

I was a little irritated by the final proviso, but still, that wasn’t a bad deal. Or, at least, time would tell. However, now that I’d started sorting out our affairs, I had to continue — to make sure I had a solid base before aiming for new adventures and new achievements. Furthermore, Grumbler, who now had access to System information, dropped hints that I had to do something about the goblin village of Urgan-Kan. As I was now a full Dungeon Lord, I got certain bonuses, which included being able to govern villages without installing a waystone there, using the “province” option. Besides, I needed to sort out the mine, so a trip there was essential.

To that end, I went to get Gor from the workshop. It wasn’t easy for two reasons. First, Gor liked it there and he was proving a diligent student. Second, Bellatrice had already come to appreciate having an effective assistant, so she also wasn’t keen to let him go. I had to assert my authority.

On the other hand, we also now had wheels. Our precious. Bellatrice had managed to provide us with transport pretty quickly and without having to ask me for even one extra part. I got the impression that the goblin engineer was still in shock from my “surprise”. Of course, it was technically the System that had granted the surprise, but still, I was the one who’d made it happen.

When the puffing gnomes pushed our transport out of the cave and into the sunlight, it put a huge smile on my face. It looked like something between a cabriolet jeep and a real dune buggy. It had a big strong frame, high wheels with good ground clearance, three seats and a spacious cargo bed. Plus, it had a lot of lights, on the overhead frame, all ready for a night-time safari. The three seats were in one row, with no back seating. Basically, it looked great.

“Don’t be too hard on it, collector. I made it from what was at hand, and quickly,” said Bellatrice with feigned indifference.

“Oh, come on, it looks amazing! It’s a cool car!” I said honestly.

“Well, if I’d had decent materials, then maybe it would’ve been ‘cool’,” she said, trying to maintain her poker face, although it was obvious that she liked the praise. Even Level 11 monsters like to feel appreciated. “I’d have upgraded the performance and added weapons.”

“You just forgot to paint it red,” I told her, continuing to admire her handiwork.

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, to make it go fast, obviously.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Max? What difference does the color of the car make to how fast it goes?”

“Oh,” I sighed, “I guess that must be a different universe. What a shame.”

Bellatrice looked at me like I’d completely lost my mind. Fortunately, I was saved by Gor.

“Wanna take it for a spin, commander?” asked the big man, quickly settling into the driver’s seat.

“Of course,” I said, giving Lyra a hand up, then jumping into the third seat.

Gor pushed the start button, the motor roared happily, and…

Silirium: -1

Total silirium: 32 512

The nervous hamster in my stomach took a little spin on its wheel.

“Erm, Gor? Does it run on silirium?”

“Of course,” said the giant, looking at me in surprise. “What else would it run on?”

“I don’t know… Diesel, maybe?”

“What’s diesel?” he asked with genuine interest.

“Ah, forget about it. Let’s go!” I grabbed the frame with one hand and scratched my head with the other. “Still, we should’ve painted it. Just as an experiment.”

“Pink?” asked Lyra, grinning, and Gor grunted indignantly.

“What property would that give?”

“Well, I don’t know… Increased attractiveness?”

“Yeah, that’s just what we need for the car,” I said, laughing. “No, we’ll paint it red first. Gor, step on it.”

He stepped on it.

It proved to be a pretty effective way to get from A to B. I’ve no idea what the goblin engineer had made it out of, but it crossed the rough terrain if not like it was on rails, then a damn sight better than my father’s old Soviet jeep loaded up with drunk fishermen or hunters. Yeah, my old man had taken me fishing a couple of times. It was fun to watch his shit-faced buddies go flying out of the back as they crashed full-throttle over the rutted tracks. The fallen comrade would be picked up to general laughter and forced to drink a penalty shot.

Racing away from the bottom of the mountain, we crossed “dove forest” with no problems, quickly forded the shallow stream, and came out into the open fields — the former hunting grounds of the “genocided” wolves. I did actually see a couple of gray muzzles in the long grass, following us with surprised and wary gazes. It would appear that the System could somehow regenerate its population of monsters, and that meant the kamikaze doves would return soon, making our logistics more complicated.

Even if he didn’t have a license (I asked), Gor turned out to be a natural driver. A couple of rabbit-rat-like creatures that got squashed under our wheels might disagree, but they weren’t going to be filing any complaints with the traffic cops, and neither were their rabbit-rat-like relatives, so we reached the goblin village without incident. True, a couple of hairy Level 3 buffalos that we passed did try to run after us, but they were nothing like fast enough. In other words, in the right conditions, we could easily drive past monsters. Once we’d painted the car red, of course. And put a bulldozer bucket on the front, just in case. It was a real shame there were no firearms in this world, or we could’ve mounted a machine gun in the cargo bed. Anyway, I was dreaming again…

The goblin village looked just like it had the last time — dirty, stinking, and really not very picturesque. That was something we had to fix. I wasn’t going to be the ruler of some shithole, even if it was a very useful shithole with a gem mine thrown in.

Urgan-Kan Village of Goblin Miners

That was the entire description currently available to me. As Grumbler explained, villages on Vilion don’t have levels — just as it was impossible (in theory) to raise any creature or collector higher than Level 5. But we all remember that panther, don’t we?

In any case, settlements just had names in the System, with no opportunity to level up or develop them. On the other hand, they could be annexed or captured, and then they’d start bringing in the goods. Which is essentially what I planned to do.

We slid smoothly into the village, just slightly crushing an unobservant goblin that suddenly popped out of a hole in the dirt. Where the hell did he come from? Gor hit reverse, and I dragged the poor bastard out from under the car, slapped him around the head, and told him to observe the rules of the road from now on. He didn’t understand anything, of course, as I didn’t speak goblin, but he nodded gratefully and slipped back into his hole without waiting for medical assistance.

“He’s in there,” I said, pointing into the filthy, stinking hole in the ground.

“And?” said Lyra in surprise.

“Well, he’s your patient, you need to heal him.”

“I’m not going in there,” she answered, shaking her head. “If you care that much, go in and get him out yourself. Then maybe I’ll cure him.”

I thought for a second and took an executive decision.

“Fuck it, it’s his own fault.”

Lyra agreed, and I started to search around for anything that looked at all like a gnome. I didn’t see any, and the goblins weren’t hurrying to chat to us, but I did hear a strange sound — maybe howls, or sobbing, or possibly even laughter. We went toward it and, peaking into one of the few standing houses, which were also made of shit and sticks, we saw an interesting sight.

Our gnomes, led by Steve, were drinking. Furthermore, they were singing some maudlin tunes. As I spoke gnome, I was able to make out that the lyrics had something to do with a young miner who fell down a mineshaft and had to battle to get back to the upper level, where his true love was waiting for him. However, when he overcame all the obstacles in his path and got back home, it turned out that his true love had already married another gnome, saying that three days was too long to wait. Hmm, I was never going to understand gnome customs but, judging by the obvious lack of females, that probably was the way things went.

The first thing I did was give Steve a smack around the head. He fell off his chair and couldn’t get back up. He lay on the floor, gooing something that even I couldn’t make out. It smelt so bad in the hut that I had to drag him outside by the foot. Gor grabbed Steve’s four assistants and pulled them out of there too, and I asked Lyra to sober them all up. See, alcohol’s a toxin too, so healing should cancel out the effects. Which it did.

The gnomes sobered up instantly, and I smacked them around their now clear heads, making sure they’d remember it. To give them their due, they didn’t get angry. They took their punishment with humility and grace. In answer to my reasonable enquiry — “What the fuck?” — Steve started moaning about life, and even squeezed out a few tears. The problem was his lack of a woman, which made taking charge of the village absolutely impossible. Female goblins weren’t an option for them, as I discovered. Which was a shame, as there were more than enough to go around, all of them without mates. Just grab one and do what you will with her. But Steve wasn’t impressed by the local talent. He’d settle for nothing less than a matriarch.

Eventually, as we were thrashing all this out, I received a System notification.

Attention! Quest available: Find a Wife for Steve

Reward: Gnome shaman Steve will be able to develop the village faster and more effectively.

Accept quest?

Yes/No

Of course I accepted. I didn’t have any other candidate to run the village, and we needed those gems. Somebody had to keep the local goblins in line. Steve immediately came to life, and his status was updated to “motivated”, which would last for one week. Apparently, that was how long he was willing to wait for his bride. I assumed that after that he’d get depressed and start drinking again. So, I’d have to play gnome matchmaker.

The village no longer had a waystone, but it did have an altar, which fulfilled the role of System hub. After working my magic on it for a while — with Grumbler’s help — I got the following message:

Urgan-Kan Village of Goblin Miners

(Property of the Selected group of collectors)

Status: Province

Appointed leader: Gnome shaman Steve (Level 2)

Level: n/a

Population: 252/500

Village bonuses: Gemstone mine

Yield: 2(10) gemstones per hour

Now, that was interesting. Considering the prices in the store, right now the mine was more profitable than the yield of pure silirium from my Dungeon. Sure, the Dungeon would overtake the village one day, but how much in the way of effort and resources would we have to invest first? Of course, our specialists were going to make all sorts of cool stuff we could sell too. At least, I really hoped so. But the point was that even this shitty village could be a great source of income to start with.

Furthermore, the limit on gemstones could only mean one thing — we needed to clear the Bloodsuckers from all levels of the quarry. No problem, right?

Especially as I already had a plan, and we were all an awesomely powerful Level 6. Who were we up against? That’s right:

Quarry Bloodsucker, Level 5

Basically, we couldn’t just shoot the bastards from above. At least, not all of them. Little Bald managed to cook a few of the more curious bugs, and I shot off a couple of bolts too, but the rest hid in the caves, so we had to go down there ourselves.

I wasn’t expecting any help from the gnomes or goblins — they’d just get in the way — so down we went on our own. It wasn’t fast work. It took a full eight hours, but in the end, we achieved our goal. The bugs were tough but dumb and, apparently, not very sociable — each had their own area that the others wouldn’t enter. If they’d all come at us at once, we might’ve had problems, but instead, Lyra pinned them down, Gor crabbed up behind them, and Little Bald and I kept shooting. It was beautiful.

In the end, we cleared the quarry out completely, and it began to produce 5/10 gemstones per hour. Why not ten? Well, Grumbler explained that we needed to restore the goblin population to five hundred heads. From what I could tell, goblins reproduced pretty fast, so…

Tired but happy, we made an inventory of our green buddies. Just like in the Dungeon, there were three types of goblins here: goblin collectors (Level 1), goblin raiders (Level 2), and goblin assassins (Level 3). In theory, I could put together a reasonably impressive mixed gnome-goblin army. Except that the goblins needed equipment too, and unlike the gnomes, they didn’t even have their own forge.

I would have to give development of the village some serious thought, but for now I set Steve a task: to scrub the place till every surface was shining. If you can’t clean it, set fire to it. No more of this unhygienic mess. I gave him three days to get it done. And if he failed? That’s right — no wife for him.

I was a good lord, and a fair one.

Chapter 17

“WELL, I DON’T KNOW…” Bellatrice screwed up her comical face and looked at Shuranid. The stoical ogre shrugged his shoulders and said:

“It’s no use asking me, alchemists don’t do that sort of work. You’ll have to sort it out among yourselves.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” said Bellatrice, turning to look at Carl. “It’s the smith who should be doing this, not me.”

“Our smith doesn’t work with materials of that level,” I reminded her once again. “Will you help us or not?”

“Alright, I’ll help!” grumbled the goblin. “You hire ham-fisted oafs with an ad on a fence, then I have to do all the work for them.”

“And you’ll help upgrade my amulet as well as Gor’s wrench, right?” I wasn’t planning on slowing down now, I had to get all my demands out.

I pulled out the still useless amulet from under my shirt and showed it to Bellatrice.

Stone Vine Amulet

Scalable item

Requirements for use: Druid class

Belongs to: Collector Max (527-20887)

Status: Inactive

“That whole inactive thing… Can you fix it?”

“Of course I can, dummy,” said the offended Level 11 engineer, folding her arms across her chest. “That’s what enhancements are for. Although, you could just try the old-fashioned way: you take a quest from the System, you go god-knows-where, you bring back god-knows-what, and you get god-knows-what property. How’s that for a plan?”

“Kinda shitty, to be honest,” I said, shaking my head. “Better you do it. But don’t, you know, break it or anything.”

“Of course not, you dumbfu… I mean, my lord,” Bellatrice suddenly looked even more pissed. “But that’s going to take all of my valuable stocks. The ones, I want you to know, that you can’t just buy at the store. It took me years to collect them, painstaking years! And now I have to use them all up.”

“Just do it,” I said, taking off the scalable amulet and handing it to the goblin. “These are the properties I need…”

I passed her a short list where I’d written down everything I might need in this life and the next, noting next to each property the weight I placed on it — the higher the figure, the more important it was to me. Grumbler had performed yet another miracle, by extracting twenty useful properties from all the great variety that the world of Vilion had to offer, ones that would make me stronger.

The idea of upgrading our items had come to me when we got back to the Dungeon. The next stop on our itinerary had to be the panthers’ den, but my eye happened to fall on Gor’s purple wrench, which prompted me to remember the universal enhancement runes we had. In total, the Selected had obtained six runes, so we spent five on my amulet and one on Gor’s weapon, to get him a new level. Lyra was already kitted out better than any high-level collector.

However, we did have one problem — Carl didn’t have a clue what to do with Epic and Scalable items. We had to summon the tribal council to put Bellatrice up against the wall and demand her help. If anyone could work with items like that, then it was certainly our mighty Level 11 engineer. Who else?

“What does this oaf need?” she asked, sighing and taking my amulet. Gor gave her his wrench and rumbled happily:

“Poison. Something dangerous, or even better fatal.”

I looked at the char-ra with respect. From what I understood, Gor had also spent a long time consulting with Grumbler, working out the best properties for his weapon. I have to admit, I really thought Gor would choose something powerful-sounding and useless, something worthy of a true warrior. However, he’d managed to make peace with his new purpose in life. He’d been told he was a scout and an assassin, so that’s what he’d become. Never mind the fact he was eight foot tall. The main thing was his abilities, and not his vital statistics. There were body-positive girls out there who could turn themselves into ballerinas and float around the stage like butterflies. Your size didn’t matter when you had real ambition.

“Ready!” said Bellatrice after just a few seconds fiddling with our items. Carl might’ve needed some time to add a random property to my crossbow, but a true master could do the work in just a few seconds, as well as unlocking all the properties I needed. I looked excitedly at what had happened to my amulet. Now I liked it not just for its rarity, but also for its description:

Stone Vine Amulet

Requirements for use: Druid class

Belongs to: Collector Max (527-20887)

Property 1: All your Hunter abilities are raised 1 level

Property 2: All your Druid abilities are raised 1 level

Property 3: All your Taming abilities are raised 1 level

Property 4: All your abilities are raised 1 level

Property 5: All your group’s abilities are raised 1 level

If you add a new enhancement rune, Property 1 will be changed

With an item like that, I wouldn’t be ashamed to show my face in public — it added a whole level to everyone in my group, and two to me and Little Bald.

“The information about what you’ve received has been spread across the world of Vilion,” announced Grumbler unexpectedly. “The local System thinks that this will motivate you all to get working.”

“Meaning there’s not time to sit around, right?” I said with a snort. I’d expected as much, but the local System’s efforts to stir up shit between us and the great clans still irritated me. It was so obvious, too — first she spread the news of the great items we had, then she wanted us to take ten million from them, and now she was telling them about my amulet.

“Grumbler, ask that show-off if she’s already told the great clans that we got out of the Pyramid of Sharaja.”

“She doesn’t like it when you call her that,” said the flying ball quietly.

“Well, when she stops leaking information about us, then I’ll stop calling her that. But I didn’t get an answer — do the great clans already know that we got out?”

“No, she’s not planning to release that information yet, not until the Selected reach Level 5. Of course, unless we run into the great clans before that.”

“So, we can’t just stay and hang out here, then?” That was how I interpreted the local System’s actions. We’d been given a load of cool stuff, so now she had to send the people who could take it away from us in our direction. She couldn’t let us get too comfortable.

“It now says the information will be released when you reach Level 4,” sighed Grumbler heavily. “Max, she can hear you. Don’t shoot your mouth off or it’ll all get worse.”

“Gor, show us what you got,” I said, changing the subject. There was a lot I wanted to say about the local System, but Grumbler was right, there was no point in starting a fight. At least, not yet.

“Here, commander!” Gor produced his orange wrench, ideal for whacking people over the head. But wait, actually the reality turned out to be far more impressive — it wasn’t even a blunt instrument.

Perfect Single-Handed Weapon for a Great Engineer

Rank: Legendary Dagger

Weapon type depends on user’s propensities. Can also be used as an engineering tool

Additional property: Poisoning

Additional property: Power Drill

Additional property: Dust Cloud

Additional property: Invisibility Enhancement

Additional property: Silent Assassin

Poisoning: You attack the enemy, poisoning them with tainted blood for 20 seconds. Poisoning does not work on members of your squad, so don’t even try it.

Power Drill: Opponents are often wrapped in something impenetrable, but that’s not going to bother you anymore! This blade can puncture the toughest armor. Doesn’t work against energy defenses.

Dust Cloud: When you strike, the most important thing is to be unnoticeable. Dust Cloud covers the eyes of enemies in a three-yard radius for a few seconds, blinding them. You can do anything you want with them.

Invisibility Enhancement: A good assassin is an invisible assassin, and it’s even better when not only can they not be seen, they can’t even be sensed.

Silent Assassin: This active ability allows you to instantly move to behind your enemy, without having to creep up on them. It works brilliantly when combined with Dust Cloud.

The property descriptions for Gor’s weapon seemed strange again, but I’d stopped paying attention to that stuff. Somebody was having fun, so why stop them? The main thing was that Gor had now turned into an incredibly powerful super killer. He could probably go up against the boss of any Dungeon now. Well, except the bosses of the Pyramid of Sharaja. Levels still counted for something.

“Grumbler, I grant you access to our items. I need your advice as to how we can best enhance them so that they’re as useful as possible for our group.”

“Okay, got it. I’ll need a couple of days to discover all possible properties and model the best strategy.”

“Great, get on it,” I said nodding. Our representative of the external System really had changed. It was as if, after getting access to her parent, Grumbler had matured thirty years in an instant. There were no more hysterics, no more tantrums, no more calling us losers all the time. Now she was sensible, to the point, and incredibly perceptive, which was just the way I liked it.

“But don’t forget about my demands either,” said Lyra just in case. “Beauty demands sacrifices, and those sacrifices can be properties.”

“My lord, there’s a panther here!” Further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a panicked gnome. Judging by the look of him, he’d sprinted headlong all the way from the first floor.

“Selected, to the exit!” I shouted, jumping up. Martha had time to give me a beseeching gaze, but then had to get straight back to her books. The gnomes from the capital were really earning their keep. They were making our matriarch study around the clock to prepare her for leveling up. Everything was almost ready for the big event, except for the main ingredient — the source of power. It was this that would allow not only Martha, but the whole Dungeon to develop further. In fact, it was great that the panther had turned up of its own accord. Now we wouldn’t have to go running around the plateau looking for it.

“Lyra, activate both your auras and use healing on me! I need to block my allergy,” I ordered as we came to the first floor. The wall the gnomes had built was almost completely destroyed. The works of Level 1 and 2 creatures were no match for a Level 8 monster. Hang on, when had the panther managed to gain another level? Never mind, around us appeared a heavenly glow, filling us with warmth and joy, and our enemies with excruciating pain. Judging by the way it leaped behind the wall, the panther could feel the effect. At the very least, it stopped pulling the wall apart. Some gnomes rushed to fix it, but I stopped them. I got the clear impression that something very unpleasant and dangerous could happen. If the Level 1 and 2 gnomes ended up in the area of effect of that monster, they were sure to die.

“We’re coming out, open the gate!”

The gnome that was standing next to us nodded and pulled the lever. The gate that Bellatrice had built turned out to be the only object that hadn’t suffered from the panther’s attacks. I would have to give the goblin the task of building up the Dungeon’s defenses and separating it from the through passage. We didn’t need any more guests like this one.

The gate opened and the black beast dashed toward us. Or at least it wanted to, but Lyra dashed faster. Her Shield Strike stunned the panther instantly, after which she activated Dark Healing. Gor used the new property of his Legendary weapon and just vanished, appearing a second later at the back of the stunned cat. The dark aura immediately began to afflict the char-ra, so Lyra had to rush to his aid too. However, the blisters appearing on his skin didn’t affect Gor’s fighting spirit, and his massive wrench pierced the panther’s flank. Little Bald decided not to take any risks and to attack from a distance — two fireballs struck the already slowed big cat straight in the eyes, blinding and burning it. That was the power of an ability enhanced with two extra levels. I just stood and watched how neatly my group was handling the monster, delighted with their teamwork.

“Enough!” I shouted as the panther keeled over. The monster didn’t even look to be breathing, but there was no blue glow appearing around its body, so it must be still alive.

“Commander?” asked Gor, tugging his weapon out of the panther and giving me an inquiring look.

“Lyra, activate your normal healing. We need to get the panther back on his feet. Do it now!”

“Max, I don’t get it…” The elf girl paused, nearly costing the black beast its life. The lightning attack of three Level 6 — and with their enhancements, actually Level 7 — beings had been a nasty experience. Lyra eventually obeyed orders without me having to repeat myself. Another 10 silirium flew off into the atmosphere, and left on the cold stone floor was a now living and relatively healthy black cat — a black cat the size of a full-grown bull.

The panther leaped to its feet and roared, beating its tail against its sides fiercely. Its auras were reactivated, and this time it added defensive ones to the attacking ones. Apparently, my command abilities had also increased with my levelling up because, while I couldn’t see any icons for the panther’s auras, I had a clear perception of what and where they were.

“Lyra, Shield Strike! Gor, stab him! Little Bald, blind him! Let’s go!”

The panther was clearly preparing to attack again, but it didn’t get the chance. My group responded to my orders quickly and precisely. The situation repeated itself — we almost killed the monster, but I managed to stop everyone at the last minute. This time, Lyra didn’t ask why, she just healed the beast fully. Silirium went flying away again, but there was no point worrying about details like that. I wanted to test my theory.

What theory? Oh, it was simple. The female panther that we had encountered during our first moments on Vilion had been labelled “Feral Panther”. However, as I could see before me, her mate was simply “Panther”, without any “Feral”. What did that mean? It meant that in this world, there were other ways to tame animals apart from using taming abilities. Kind words and a baseball bat would work better than kind words alone. When the panther again leaped up and roared, I slowly walked toward it. It was absolutely terrifying — it’s not every day you face a big, strong, sharp-fanged wild beast that’s the size of a bull and could end your life with a swipe of its paw. However, I didn’t manage to reach the beast on my own — raising her shield, Lyra fell in at my side, keeping her cold green eyes fixed on the monster. Soon Gor and Little Bald joined us too. The dracat swooped down to my shoulder and roared threateningly. My pet clearly hadn’t forgotten who had slaughtered his parents and almost eaten him too.

We marched forward like an unstoppable Roman legion. The panther beat its tail so hard against its sides that I thought it was bound to break a rib sooner or later. The monster roared and yowled, but it didn’t attack. In fact, eventually it began to shuffle back. It recognized our strength and was urgently figuring out how to survive. Attack again? We’d already shown it twice what that lead to. Run away? Then it would leave its mate and offspring at our mercy.

We stopped about three yards from the panther. My fear hadn’t decreased in the slightest, and I was trembling. Judging by the labored breathing of Lyra and Gor, they were feeling no more comfortable. It was one thing to fight an enemy using all your abilities, and quite another to stand a few yards away from them, offering them the chance to attack first.

“This is my Dungeon,” I told the panther.

“Max, it can’t understand you,” said Grumbler unnecessarily.

“Little Bald, tell it that this is our Dungeon, and we won’t allow it to cause any trouble.”

“Meow?” The dracat was so confused that he even stopped roaring.

“Don’t meow me like that, just do as you’re told. Seeing as my amulet has got you to Level 8, even if it’s not the real Level 8, then it’s time you started talking.”

“Meow! Meowowow!” snarled Little Bald in fluent human. Taking a carefully planned leap to the floor, he fearlessly approached the vast panther that could crush him with one paw. When the female panther had protected us from her mate, she had roared and hissed at him. Our dracat didn’t bother with dramatics. He walked straight up to the panther’s face and said meaningfully:

“Meow!”

The ferocious monster gave a terrifying roar, so powerful that it shook Little Bald’s wings. Spit flew from the panther’s mouth, spraying the dracat, but my pet wasn’t planning on giving up.

“Meow!”

Little Bald’s voice suddenly had a commanding tone to it. He wasn’t asking, he wasn’t telling, he wasn’t even demanding — he was ordering. The panther’s reaction was extraordinary to watch. At one point, it was clearly considering raising its paw and bringing it down on my pet, but before it could flatten Little Bald like a pancake, Lyra demonstratively pushed her shield forward, ready for another dash, and the panther reconsidered. It lowered its head, examining the little hairless freak in front of it, and then something remarkable happened — the panther slumped. Its vast body lowered to the floor in front of my pet and it closed its eyes. Next to me, Grumbler snorted, no less surprised than the rest of us. She was the one who read out the monster’s changed description:

Domesticated Panther, Level 8

Property of the Selected

“You have the right to bring your family to this Dungeon,” I said, absolutely certain that Little Bald would translate everything. Or he wouldn’t — it didn’t really matter. “Now, follow me, and I’ll introduce you to the people who run this place in our name. They’ll be your new family. Did you understand all that?”

“Yes, master,” said a rich, low voice. Judging by the way none of the group reacted, it was only me who could hear it. Also, it did sound kind of strange, like it wasn’t coming from outside, but only sounding in my head. Perhaps I should’ve started panicking, but I was fully aware that pets can start to talk at Level 8, and the panther was something like a pet now.

“Call me lord,” I said out of habit. I said it out loud, so everyone turned to stare at me.

“Max?” said both Lyra and Grumbler simultaneously. I had to explain to them that we now had at least one talking cat, but he was only talking with me.

“Do you understand everyone else?” I asked. “If you do, nod.”

The mighty monster nodded, and then something happened that almost made my heart stop. Lyra squeaked happily and, forgetting about everything that had just happened, rushed toward the huge monster and started stroking him frantically. The panther responded to this outrage by grunting and dropping back on his haunches, unsure what to do. Lyra took this as a sign to continue and began to energetically scratch the terrible beast’s thick fur. It got to the point where, his huge jaw hanging open to show his vast sharp fangs, the panther began to purr! When he realized what was happening, he snapped his jaw shut and even covered his mouth with one paw.

“My lord?” he said, with a quavering note in his deep voice. He really had no idea how to react.

“Lyra, stop playing with our new ally. Let’s go back, we need to introduce him to Martha and all the others.”

What can I say? Once again, something extraordinary was happening in our Dungeon. The gnomes had no trouble recognizing the beast that had prowled the outer passage. The panther had eaten dozens of the little guys. So, to see the same Level 8 panther calmly strolling with us through the third floor was something none of them were ready for. The more sensitive among them fainted clean away and had to be dragged off by their friends. Martha would’ve fainted too, but as matriarch she had no right to.

“Martha, this is your new ally and our pet. Provide him and his family with living quarters. Put him on the payroll. Bellatrice!”

“Yes, my lord,” answered the goblin, who had been circling the panther all this time. She wasn’t scared of the monster in the slightest, but she did find him fascinating.

“Can you turn our panther into a protector? Get him armor, a weapon, some enhancements — but nothing too special. There’s no need to put Legendary items on a panther. Shuranid, can you help her? You work out how to upgrade our Dungeon Protector, and we’ll go get his family. Any questions?”

“It’s not going to eat us, is it?” whispered Martha. I looked at the panther and got a surprisingly honest answer:

“I need to mark the ones I shouldn’t eat, my lord. For me and my family. Those crunchy little critters are too weak for me to remember all of them. Scent is the best method.”

“Martha, gather all the Dungeon’s workers in the main hall. When we come back, the panther will mark them all. Whoever isn’t marked will get eaten. We’ll go see Steve later. Now, everyone get to work.”

Nobody wanted to argue with their fearsome lord, especially not when he had a Level 8 monster standing right next to him. Everyone hurried back to work, even my Level 11 bosses, while we went up to the plateau where we had begun our adventure on Vilion. The panther’s five adolescent offspring thought about jumping on us, but one roar from their father stopped them in their tracks. The pressed their ears to their heads guiltily and came to greet us, nuzzling each of us in turn. The “Feral Panther” made her appearance too. Since we’d last met, she’d also leveled up to Level 3. Things were even easier with her. Her mate roared once and the “Feral” disappeared from her description. Then the same thing happened to their offspring, and we suddenly had six more Domesticated Panthers.

All that remained was to work out where we’d get them food. I hoped Martha was up to the task. After all, those wise gnomes were supposed to be teaching her something, weren’t they?

Fragment of the Founder’s Sword

Rank: Artifact attached to this world

Attention, this item cannot be removed from the world of Vilion

The source of radiation that had turned the panther into a real monster was located at the center of a vast sinkhole. It was a small metallic object that it was very difficult to stay in the vicinity of. We had to gulp down a gemstone each in order not to die. If the source had that effect on us, Level 6 collectors, that meant it was pretty powerful. Grumbler kept trying to get information out of the local System but was unable to find out who the Founder was or why their item emitted such potent radiation. In any other situation, I would’ve picked up the fragment and dragged it into the Dungeon. However, the huge range and variety of my underlings dissuaded me from such idiocy. It was obvious that the Level 3 panther couldn’t get any closer than twenty yards to the sinkhole, let along the artifact itself. There was no question of just going down there and picking it up. Even the Level 8 monster was keeping his distance.

“Gor, we need Bellatrice here.”

“Got it,” said the char-ra and vanished. He reappeared behind the panthers. A moment later, he vanished again, rematerializing this time behind some tree. So, yet another of my team had the ability to teleport from one place to another. Or, to be more accurate, they all did apart from me. Little Bald could fly, Lyra had her shield, and Gor could sneak up on enemies. All I could do was watch all the action and point with my finger to show them where to teleport to next. Hmm, actually, it was pretty cool being a commander.

“So, why have you dragged me out to this godforsaken place?” grumbled Bellatrice when she eventually arrived. One look at the sword fragment was enough to shut her up and even turn her pale, however.

“You know what, my lord? It’s a good thing you called me here. If you’d brought that thing back with you, the whole Dungeon would’ve disappeared. It’s incredibly powerful. I’ll do everything necessary, don’t worry. Just give me a couple of hours. Animals, they’ve already got a cave ready for you, and the gnomes are all lined up to meet you. And remember, we don’t eat our friends. Otherwise, you’ll have me to deal with. Gor, I’ll need you here. I’ll teach you how to deal with high-intensity sources.”

Lyra and I spent the rest of the day in a secluded corner of the plateau, gazing from above over our territory. The Pyramid of Sharaja was still scary, but it was a long way off. Nearer at hand, there were a few goblin villages that I had every intention of visiting soon. If we’d taken one, why couldn’t we take some more? Was there anything stopping us becoming feudal lords? We hadn’t even been here a full month, and I was already making great plans. As if to confirm I had every right to, the following pleasing message flashed before my eyes:

Selected Dungeon Level +2, current level: 4

Attention! 2 new floors have appeared in your Dungeon. Clear the monsters living there to become full owners of the Dungeon

Time to complete quest: 24 hours

Your matriarch has leveled up, current level: 3

You can claim 1 item from the old stocks of the Selected Tribe treasury

The news that you have managed to escape the Pyramid of Sharaja has been announced to the great clans

“Max?” Lyra was staring at me wide-eyed. We’d been kissing when the notification came through, and with such a long notification, it was impossible to hide the fact I was distracted.

“Somebody’s getting a new item from their set today,” I told her with a smile.

“Really?” Lyra’s eyes shone with excitement. “That’s something to celebrate! Come here, human, there’s still a few things I haven’t showed you yet.”

Chapter 18

IT TURNED OUT THAT, right then, we had options before us that weren’t available to most of the collectors on the world of Vilion. I had realized that after Grumbler began providing information from the general database of the external System.

Basically, I now understood all her initial skepticism about our future in this world. The future we had been destined to was unenviable. Outcasts either died quickly or very quickly — those were the only two possible outcomes. The System knew this, so Grumbler knew it too. How could she have known, on the other hand, that we would be an exception?

However, we had survived. And not only had we survived, we’d managed to make ourselves very comfortable so far, thereby breaking a couple more local conventions. And no, I wasn’t talking about the Pyramid of Sharja, I was thinking of the Dungeon that we’d made our own.

Both me and Grumbler got the feeling that the local System was rewriting the rules on the fly for the valiant Selected group. What had followed was a series of illogical and at times even incomprehensible developments that, in any normal RPG, you’d have every right to describe as bugs.

With sober-minded reflection, I realized that ignorance had been a major benefit for me. If I’d understood the whole structure of the world we were in earlier, I might well have given up. Although, what was I thinking? My old man would’ve spun all the way out of his grave and given me a sound whooping in that case. Giving up was one thing our family couldn’t even imagine doing.

In general, though, this world was no place for lone wolves. And, considering the local laws, being in a group of three wasn’t really any better than being a lone wolf. Here, it was the clans that ruled — big communities of collectors bound by one idea and under one leadership. It was through the numbers of their ranks and the careful strategy of their leaders that these communities achieved success.

Apart from the four great clans, the heads of which we’d already had the honor of meeting, there were another ninety-five smaller clans. That brought the total to ninety-nine, and the figure was no coincidence. That was the first limitation on organizing a clan.

In order to become an official clan on the world of Vilion, one of the already existing and registered clans had to go out of business. How did that happen? Nobody cared how. Grumbler came up with a whole list of possibilities, but the main idea was always the same — if you want to start a clan, destroy an existing one. Then let the good times roll.

Basically, it was quite a cunning way of ensuring the clans at the bottom of the rankings were always trying to do better as they constantly struggled to survive. On the other hand, it seemed unlikely that the bottom ten had much time to think of anything else apart from survival. They certainly couldn’t have been putting much of their efforts into collecting silirium on behalf of the System. On the other hand, the System had been doing this much longer than me, so what did I know? Undoubtedly there was some kind of logic in this too, I just didn’t understand it yet. But there was a lot I didn’t understand. The System needed resources, but instead of carefully training collectors, it threw them all down on worlds like this to work everything out for themselves. Furthermore, it grabbed beings at random from their worlds, and the Gors among them were few and far between. Most of them were more like me and Lyra.

Anyway, getting back to us. Somehow, I hadn’t paid much attention to our very first notification, but it turned out a group of collectors was the basic unit of social formation and, accordingly, the very lowest too. In the entire history of Vilion, we were the first group not part of a clan that had taken control of a location. When that happened, the local System had either been in shock or had just let it slip by as an anomaly, but she hadn’t thought up any suitable reward for us. I wasn’t going to hold that against her. Actually, I was a little. There was no such thing as excess loot. But anyway, we’ll let that pass.

The other thing was that every clan had a capital. In the beginning, it would be some location captured by the clan, which would then level it up to the status of capital. And yes, every one of these capitals was on the surface of the planet.

Clans captured Dungeons too, but either they remained as Raid Dungeons, or they were used for mining something. Why was all this bothering me? Well, probably because I wanted to organize a clan too. Although you couldn’t really have a clan with just three members. Not forgetting that I now trusted those three completely. Where was I going to find others and how would I work out if I could trust them? Of course, right at that moment it wasn’t very important, and everything was going great, but I got the strong feeling that it was going to get important very soon. Really important.

Anyway, that was what I was thinking about as we made our way down to the bottom floor. Actually, the old bottom floor — the fifth level, which was no longer the bottom one.

In answer to my question of whether each new level of the Dungeon added another floor, Grumbler said no. It depended on the dimensions of the Dungeon. Some just couldn’t get any bigger, so sometimes levels could just be nominal. This time, however, we’d been lucky — we’d leveled up twice and we’d got two extra floors. Which we now needed to clear.

I decided the simplest strategy was to ask Bellatrice and Shuranid to come with us, but was unpleasantly surprised when they refused. It turned out that there were limitations to the local population, even at very high levels. They couldn’t become fully-fledged members of a player’s party. Or maybe they could, but not for long and only to achieve a specific goal. Like escaping from the Pyramid of Sharaja and relocating to our Dungeon.

Now they had their own spaces, which they would of course defend from any attackers. But they couldn’t just drop their work and head off on a raid with me. Which was irritating.

What did cheer me up, though, was that our Level 8 Domesticated Panther was very happy to come for a walk with us. Although this did prompt a minor conflict with Lyra, who really wanted to give the monster a name. I had no intention of spending fifty thousand silirium on that particular whim, even more so as I had just learned about the limitation on Bellatrice and Shuranid, and something told me that our panther was only going to be of any use to us here in the dungeon. So, Lyra got a firm no. She wasn’t happy, but she accepted it. And her mood improved considerably when Martha gave her the next part of the elven set from the treasury. This time it was boots. Lyra quickly chose the properties she needed, and soon was shining brighter than ever.

Heavenly Elven Boots

Rank: Rare set item

Number of items in set: 4

Set bonus: During battle, applies the Lightning Shield effect, which deals damage to the attacker.

(The next set bonus will be available when the set is complete)

Additional property: Attractiveness doubled

Additional property: Counterstrike (dodges enemy attack and instantly deals them double attack damage)

Additional property: Withdrawal (a long jump that allows you to retreat from combat instantly)

It was a strange description, but that “long jump” was actually the property the leader of the goblin raiders had used to nearly send me flying at the end of the fight. It was an interesting ability that let you withdraw from battle or move instantly to your furthest enemy, avoiding their block.

It was a pity there was no bonus offered for three items, but it was a classic system. The next bonus came for four items. And a Rare set always consisted of four items, as I found out from Grumbler. Epic sets were six and Legendary eight. But where could we find Legendary ones…

Anyway, the pretty boots calmed my gorgeous elf girl down a little, even though she couldn’t call our panther Splotch like she wanted to. The four of us made our way downstairs.

The System hadn’t lied. At Level 8, the panther was able to communicate telepathically in brief phrases without any great difficulty. However, taking orders and expressing his reaction to them was beyond him. We had to level up Little Bald quick, so he could start talking. I was expecting to get a lot of interesting information from him, including about himself and dracats in general. I suspected he was going to be a talkative little bastard.

The sixth floor of the Dungeon didn’t have any particular surprises for us. It was crawling with Level 4 bugs that were just a bit bigger and a bit stronger than their Level 3 counterparts. And they hit a bit harder too. I was disappointed when I saw our panther in action, but only because I realized what a loss it was that we couldn’t take him with us everywhere. He made an excellent tank that completely pinned down enemies, allowing Lyra and Gor to slash away at the assholes, while I shot them from a distance that kept my fragile frame perfectly safe. Unfortunately, however, our Domesticated Panther was bound to the Dungeon and there was nothing we could do about that.

I was also reminded that Carl did have his uses after all. Whatever else I could say about him, he’d made me a decent stock of crossbow bolts. Bellatrice, of course, had made a face when she saw his handiwork and muttered something about hamfistedness, but when I asked her to make me crossbow bolts in Carl’s place, she’d quickly retreated. However, Carl had told me afterwards that engineers were capable of adding upgrades like exploding warheads, for example. Gor confirmed this and also said that he wasn’t able to do this yet, but he'd definitely learn how soon. So, all I had to do was wait for Bellatrice to teach Gor how. I was slightly frustrated by the fact that I couldn’t leave Gor with Bellatrice all the time, but we were a team, and losing any of our members would’ve made us much less effective.

Anyway, in the final fight we put an end to a massive Level 5 bug so fast that it didn’t even have time to cry for its mommy. Of course, it might not have been able to say anything at all, we never had time to find out.

That was when I discovered another big plus of having your own Dungeon — we didn’t have to pick up anything ourselves. A whole gang of gnomes came trotting down to the floor as soon as it was cleared of bugs. They broke everything down into parts and ingredients, some of which went to the alchemist and some to Bellatrice. Carl was happy too, as it turned out the bugs’ shells were made of something like an alloy that the gnomes used to manufacture armor.

I was pleased to see that, after tidying up, the blacksmith had fired up the furnace. Carl was banging away with his hammer, and his assistants were busy too. The Dungeon was coming to life before our eyes, and that made me very happy.

What didn’t make me happy was the meanness of the local System, which was giving us very little in the way of loot. However, I had understood the System’s logic. If you got weapons from every goblin, then with bugs you had to be content with ingredients. However, there was one exception. For killing the boss, we got a gift pack — a few Common items and one Rare item that Gor immediately grabbed with both hands, his enthusiasm making me smile.

“What do you think, commander?” said the big man with a huge grin on his face, after putting on what was a real Viking helmet with two horns.

“Bold, tasteful, stylish,” I said, grinning too.

Lyra didn’t agree, but she kept her barely audible giggle to herself by putting her hand over her mouth. Me, I had no problem with it. Anything to keep the kids quiet. Sure, assassins and spies were supposed to go around in dark capes that helped them hide in the shadows, but mine was a special kind of assassin, and if he wanted to wear a horned helmet, why shouldn’t he? If the enemy gets to see my master killer before they die, they can laugh all they want. It’s not going to stop them dying.

Gor was happy. Occasionally, he took the helmet off to admire it. It had no properties yet, as the big man wanted to consult with Bellatrice first. For now, it just said:

Viking Helmet

Rank: Rare

Additional property: Hidden

Additional property: Hidden

Additional property: Hidden

The big man looked at it lovingly, gently stroking it and occasionally polishing it with a soft cloth to make it shine even brighter. I thought of mentioning that shiny might not be the best idea for a stealthy assassin, but what was the point? Let him have his fun.

We had a quick break, then went down to the seventh floor. Once again, there were no surprises — the giant Level 5 scolopendras made a nuisance of themselves with their acid spit, but they fried nicely from Little Bald’s fireballs and then they died from Lyra’s auras. Our Level 8 panther didn’t seem at all bothered by their acid. The big cat leaped proudly forward, tearing at the bugs’ tender undersides with his claws and getting completely covered in guts and acid. He just snorted and shook himself off.

The big Level 6 scolopendra boss didn’t live long, and it gave us one more Rare item, this one called a Valkyrie Helmet, which was immediately grabbed by a happy Lyra, who assigned it the following properties:

Valkyrie Helmet

Rank: Rare

Additional property: Airstrike (lets you rise up into the air and descend on enemies from above)

Additional property: Regeneration

Additional property: Fervor

The second property was great and easily understandable, each of us needed to get something similar, but what the hell was Fervor? I asked Lyra to activate it — which of course took some silirium — and I felt… hmmm…. a real urge to get out there and kill more enemies. It was a strange feeling, as I was already as motivated as can be, but I suspected the property would come in useful in the future once I’d got my hands on a small but very proud army and put the elf girl in the front line as my general. It’d be fantastic.

I felt more and more like a bum in comparison with my comrades. Weirdly, however, I realized that made me happy. After all, they were the ones at the sharp end of our attacks, while I stood to one side, pointing with my finger, giving commands, and occasionally taking a shot. So, it was logical that they got the best equipment. Not just logical, but fair.

Once we’d killed the scolopendras, the System notified us that the quest was complete. As a bonus, she opened up an extra location within the Dungeon, which was called the Silirium Mine. Another cunning move by the System. As I understood it, she couldn’t grant collectors silirium directly. But give a man a silirium mine, and he can collect silirium for the rest of his days. That was what we got with the new, monster-free space on the seventh floor.

I even stuck my face in there to see how exactly it was different from the silirium seams on the upper floors. The difference was that there was far more silirium here. Overexcited gnomes came running to the mine in hordes, and I received a new notification that informed me that the silirium revenue from my Dungeon had fully doubled:

Dungeon of the Selected

(Property of the Selected group of collectors)

Status: Main settlement

Appointed leader: Matriarch Martha (Level 3)

Level: 4

Population: 408/4000

Silirium revenue: 408(816) per hour

Resident specialists:

Blacksmith Carl (Level 3)

Engineer Bellatrice (Level 11)

Alchemist Shuranid (Level 11)

That looked pretty good. And well done Carl for getting to Level 3. He’s probably been spending some time hanging around the fragment, the clever lad.

I made a quick stop at the store and sold all the junk we’d accumulated. Then I leveled up the reactor to the highest level, which was “Full Power”. It seemed to get brighter in the cave, and more importantly, an elevator appeared. Now we wouldn’t need to go bounding up and down stairs like mountain goats. We could travel in style instead.

As far as I could tell, we’d got some other cool stuff in terms of developing crafting in the Dungeon and in terms of leveling up the gnomes themselves. But I hadn’t really looked into the matter. That was what we had Martha for.

However, I did ask Bellatrice if that was really the highest level the reactor could go. To which she grinned suspiciously and said no. There was also something called Overdrive, which not every engineer was capable of achieving. Although Bellatrice Dorockit, Level 11 engineer, certainly could. Then she gave me quite an eager look.

To be honest, I was taken aback a little. The word “Overdrive” didn’t sound all that safe. Bellatrice also seemed a little too enthusiastic in a not entirely healthy way, so I decided to leave it for some other time.

Instead, I demanded directly that she provide us with the spa zone she’d promised. She immediately started boring on about vital resources, but I reminded her of the ridiculously long list of tools I’d gotten for her, and that I didn’t need anything particularly impressive. A small sauna that wasn’t going to choke me to death with smoke, and two or three pools with hot and cold water would be quite enough. Heroes — by which I meant us — needed to relax properly, no question about it.

Bellatrice agreed, but she said it would take some time. So, I went to visit Shuranid. Seeing as I had such valuable employees, I wanted to get as much out of them as possible. The speed with which we’d been able to clear the Dungeon was further proof of the fact that levels decided everything. It wouldn’t be long now before we reached the point of transferring to the next world. On the other hand, I didn’t want to rush that. If anything, we were going a little too fast. Before we moved on, we needed time to take a look around, and that was exactly what I planned to do.

What had also become abundantly clear from our recent adventures was that monsters, even the ones with all sorts of different abilities, were still dumb animals. The ones you had to watch out for were people. We were a prime example of how, even against enemies of a higher level, tactics and imagination were enough to achieve the impossible. We still hadn’t encountered any other people, but I got the strong feeling that wasn’t going to last much longer. When it did happen, I wanted to be fully prepared.

Another thing on my mind was our still inactive waystone. I’d listened to a lecture from Grumbler about how it all worked that had been a little depressing. Our total defense against unwanted guests was purely a result of the waystone’s inactive status. While it remained in that state, it stopped any of us from going in, and stopped anyone from coming out.

As soon as I turned our teleportation point back on, any owner of another waystone could connect to ours. Of course, they couldn’t just march right in here. First, they had to send a request, then we had to accept it. Except it didn’t always work like that. If the level of a waystone, which increased in line with the level of the settlement, was greater than the level of your waystone, then guests could come and see you without any invitation. And considering that in the capitals of the great clans, everyone had Level 5, then we could expect a lot of visitors. Except…

It suddenly hit me, and I turned to Grumbler, twitching with excitement.

“Am I right in thinking that all the clan capitals are located on the surface and can’t develop beyond Level 5, the highest the planet’s external radiation can get them?”

“Correct,” said Grumbler.

I felt a tingle inside.

“And it’s also true that we can develop our Dungeon to Level 10, and that our waystone will develop along with it?”

“It is,” said Grumbler.

“Doesn’t that mean that nobody will be able to come to us, but we’ll be able to go visit anyone?”

Then came my first disappointment.

“No, it doesn’t,” said Grumbler. “Did you really think you were the first to be that cunning? Dungeons and the outside world level out in favor of the weaker party. In this case, that means the outside world. Otherwise, there’d be chaos out there.”

“As if it isn’t chaos already,” I snorted.

“Hmm,” said Grumbler, the old spitefulness returning to her voice, “everything works fine here.

“Yeah, I noticed. But nobody can just pop in here without a request first, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Well, that’s something, at least.”

I shook my head, but I’d just had another idea. I began to run down the stairs and was halfway down the first flight when I remembered that we now had an elevator. I strode in a lordly manner over to the elevator and descended majestically back to Bellatrice’s workshop.

“Back again? Nothing’s ready yet,” mumbled the goblin. Although, as far as I could see, she hadn’t even thought about getting started on our spa zone.

“I’ve got a question,” I told her.

“Go on,”

“That fragment of whatever the hell it is that we’ve got upstairs — what happens if we drag it down here?”

“What happens?” said Bellatrice, laughing. “In theory, nothing serious. It’d mean that only me and Shuranid could remain on this floor. Literally nobody else would be able to come here.”

“But we’ve got an elevator now. Would the gnomes be able to travel past the floor?”

“Yes, they would,” she said thoughtfully, apparently doing some calculations in her head. “But the fragment’s radiation is a little too intense. The floors above and below us would be flooded with increased radiation.”

“But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Increased by how much?”

“Hard to say, I’d have to do some calculations.”

“That would mean I could level up my future gnome army a little,” I drawled dreamily.

“What are you mumbling about there?” asked Bellatrice with her goblin ears pricked up.

“Oh, nothing, forget it. Anyway, we can do that, right?”

“We can. Even better,” said the goblin, smiling happily, “I can put the fragment into the reactor. That would get it to Overdrive.”

“And also raise the Dungeon to Level 5?”

“If I can keep it under control, yes.”

“But we don’t have to put it into the reactor, right?”

“No, we don’t, but it’s more fun that way.”

I sighed heavily. I needed a working waystone. Sure, we could travel hundreds of miles in our car, but it cost a lot. That was why I needed to get the Dungeon to Level 5, in order to avoid unwanted guests. But I didn’t have to worry about that quite yet. First, I wanted to take a look around. We’d get to all that later.

I went to see the alchemist. The first thing I asked the ogre for was a healing potion. I mean, why not? All games have those, so they probably had them here too, right? Lyra might not be available. She could be too tied up in the fight to get to me on time. An assassin or two like our Gor, and I’d be done for.

The ogre responded to my request with total equanimity and immediately showed me two items, one on each palm. They were called Healing Plasters. Producing them required silirium and a few relatively common ingredients that Shuranid still had in stock.

The math was simple — ten silirium for a Healing Plaster, or fifty for an Enhanced Healing Plaster. The way they worked was straightforward: you put them on bare skin, and they instantly healed the body according to their properties. The ogre recommended putting them on your forehead, as it was the most convenient spot. I immediately tried it out.

It probably looked like I was facepalming, but a wave of warmth ran straight through my body. Bearing in mind that I was fully healthy at that moment, all it did was give me a rush of energy — energy that I really had to get rid of. I apologized to Shuranid, dropped and did a hundred and fifty push-ups. That made things a little better, and I was able to keep talking, although my legs were still twitchy. That was powerful stuff!

I asked Shuranid to put together a list of all the cool things he could make for us, to which the ogre replied politely that he still hadn’t finished putting together his workshop. But as soon as he did, he’d definitely let me know everything. Well, that was fine by me. I asked him to make me thirty Enhanced Plasters.

What I liked about this world and about my skilled specialists was that everything happened almost instantly. There was a vortex of flying vials and scraps of fabric, and on the table before me appeared three piles of ten platers each. I looked at them and realized there was one member of our party that I’d forgotten.

Considering Little Bald’s measurements, I decide to ask for just the simple Healing Plasters for him. That should be enough for the dracat. Judging by the effect the plaster had had on me, I didn’t want to end up with a massively overexcited fire-breathing flying cat. I distributed my ten around different pockets, then gave the rest to my group. I explained how they worked and told them that we would be heading out on an expedition the following day. We were going to take a look around the area and make a run to the nearest settlement of collectors.

This was the capital of a small clan with the terrible name “Angels of Death”, currently number eight-nine in the ranking. The settlement was located around a hundred and fifty miles away to the west and was basically an outpost of collector civilization. That was the place we were supposed to have taken a month to reach in order to gain access to the registration stone.

On the last night in the Dungeon, I decided I wanted a good night’s sleep. A good night’s sleep with Lyra. Well, a good night’s… Basically, a good night, with some sleep in between. Gor ran off to Bellatrice to sharpen his skills. Hmmm, if a human and an elf can be physically compatible, what about a char-ra and a goblin? Actually, best not to think about that.

I suddenly remembered that I’d forgotten one important thing — I wanted to find out how resurrection worked here. Seeing as I was planning on plunging us into yet another risky venture, anything could happen. One of use really could die. I needed to understand in advance just how everything in this world worked.

Grumbler provided me with a quick and quite logical explanation. The collector who dies is immediately connected to their waystone. The resurrection scroll is immediately activated on their death, allowing them to be transported home. The next thing I was interested in was the gear the collector was carrying. Here, Grumbler was able to reassure me too. If a collector had a resurrection scroll, then all their items were kept in a special pocket of space that would appear next to the collector when they resurrected. So, we wouldn’t lose our gear. If there was no resurrection scroll, then the collector’s items weren’t needed anymore, and they stayed right there on the ground, just like monsters’ items.

Phew! My worries eased, I fell asleep immediately. We had a big day ahead of us.

Chapter 19

“THAT’S AN EXPENSIVE HABIT,” I said, looking at the three scrolls, each of which cost three thousand silirium.

“What did you expect? Actually, I’m surprised they’re still so cheap,” said Grumbler. “Resurrection scrolls can even get you out of a Dungeon, so they’re very valuable. It’s not like every collector can just buy one.”

“Why not?” I asked, frowning. “It’s not like three thousand silirium is that much.”

“Who for? For you and your group? You shouldn’t judge everything by your own situation, Max.”

“Can you explain what you mean?”

“You’ll see. You’re planning to visit the capital of the Angels of Death, aren’t you? You’ll understand what I mean when you get there. It’s better that you see it once than hear about it a thousand times from me.”

Grumbler turned darker but refused to offer any explanation. The idea of creating resurrection scrolls had been hers — I didn’t even know they existed. Having a part of the external System in your group really did help. Why die and go back to our own Dungeon when we could die and come back anywhere on the planet of Vilion? That seemed like a much better option.

Finally, all our preparations were complete. Bellatrice assured me that the Selected Dungeon would reach Level 5 in just a few days and that, if they had to, she and Shuranid would make sure no unwanted guests would have access to our location while we were away. That was something, at least.

Grumbler helped us choose the correct destination. Having activated all our auras, the Selected stepped forward into the portal. The collectors’ city wasn’t going to be like the gnome capital. We had no idea what to expect. Space flickered for an instant, the way it does every time you enter a dungeon, and we found ourselves in a small, dimly lit room. There were no windows, no guards, nothing. Just the arch of the waystone, set in an empty stone closet.

The difference with the gnome city was remarkable. There, as soon as we appeared, we were surrounded by guards. Here, even though our request had been accepted, there was nobody to greet us. It was like nobody gave a shit about our arrival. Or was it a trap? Maybe we’d step outside and have to face the full force of the great clans.

“Gor, what are you doing?” I asked when I noticed the char-ra was messing around with the arch of the waystone. The big man blushed, in so far as he could with his green skin, and straightened up quickly, shuffling away from the arch. He even did something that sounded like whistling, as if to say he was just hanging around minding his own business. I took another look at the waystone.

“Wait, were you trying to steal it?” I said, noticing a chip of stone on the floor.

“What do you mean, commander? Not steal it, of course not. I just thought if nobody was using it…”

“Gor!” It looked like Lyra had plenty to say on the subject, but I put a hand on her shoulder to interrupt her.

“Well, can you take it?”

“No, it’s too securely set in place,” answered Gor, embarrassed again. “I’d have to smash up everything here. It'd take ten minutes. Want me to do it?”

Gor looked so innocent that I couldn’t help but laugh. In the first days of our arrival on Vilion, that massive lunk had spent the whole time boring on about the way of the warrior, and how it was the only proper life. You had to fight, to live with honor, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Now, here he was, seriously proposing to bankrupt the local clan by robbing them of five hundred thousand silirium. I mean, why were they so reckless with their property? Was it actually theirs?

“We’ll leave it for now,” I said. “First, we’ll take a look around, then we’ll decide what to do next. Grumbler, could you find out what the punishment is for taking somebody else’s waystone. I’m sure the external System knows something about that.”

While the flying ball was communicating with her creator, we slowly left the room. We thought we were ready for anything, but that turned out not to be the case. The sight that met us as soon as we stepped out of the small building was extraordinary. I had thought our goblin village was dirty and ugly. I’d even given Steve the job of cleaning it up and making it look nice. But that was before I visited the collectors’ town. Scattered in front of us was the dirtiest village that I’d ever seen in my life. All around was mud and trash, and I do mean everywhere — literally everything was covered in filth and the half-rotted remains of dead monster. The smell was so bad, I had trouble holding down my breakfast.

The half-ruined single-story wooden houses didn’t even have glass windows. The doors on nearly all of them were hanging crooked and creaking in the wind. The wall surrounding the small settlement had fallen away in places, making it possible to view the landscape all around. It looked as if monsters had rampaged through here, killing everyone, but that wasn’t quite the case — I caught sight of some collectors. Or at least, the two-legged creatures that lived in this town (although more rightly I’d call it a dump) had to be collectors.

Ranilus Zar, Yeratian, Level 5, Angels of Death Clan

Jarutilus, Burian, Level 5, Angels of Death Clan

When they saw us, they reacted strangely, turning and running off somewhere. Oh well, we’d catch up with them later. In any case, they were collectors — humanoid beings that differed only in minor details. Some had bigger heads, others shorter arms, but overall they looked very much like the creatures I’d seen on the external base just after I’d originally been selected — a whole collection of different races, all of whom looked more or less human from a distance.

“How disgusting!” said Lyra. She looked with distaste and the road we had to walk along, then at her perfectly clean boots, then at the road again, then at me:

“Ma-a-ax, I don’t want walk down there!”

“Welcome to the collectors’ town, Selected!” said Grumbler with a strange tone in her voice. “To a typical town on the planet of Vilion.”

“Typical? Are you telling me all the collectors’ towns look like this trash heap?”

“Some are better, some are worse, but if you ignore the four capitals, the rest look very much like this,” Grumbler confirmed.

“Why?” asked Gor, frowning and trying to find some logical explanation for the situation, but there wasn’t one. There really wasn’t.

“Because nobody cares about where they live. Because, for the most part, collectors are worse than animals,” said Grumbler fiercely. “I’ll admit that I’m lucky with you guys. But you’re the exception that proves the rule. Collectors that end up on Vilion start to degenerate. They turn into animals. No, even worse than animals. Only a few survive. The ones that attract the interest of the great clans and get to the capitals. The rest get thrown down at the edges of the explored lands and live out their miserable existence. They turn into pathetic creatures that it hurts to look at.”

“But the ones who end up with the great clans are alright?” asked Lyra.

“Alright?” repeated Grumbler with a heavy note of sarcasm. “They work from morning till night with no weekends or sick days. You give everything and you get nothing back. The top brass and the ones they’re grooming to take over from them grow fat off your labor. Okay, I have to admit, there are the Stone-Cold Killers, where the hierarchy is a bit different. They have some more interesting personalities. The current leadership would like you guys. But that’s just one clan out of four. The rest squeeze everything they can out of collectors. If you want to live, you work and you keep your head down.”

“I don’t like this world,” said Lyra, with a look of pure horror on her face.

“Grumbler, if this chaos is the norm, why doesn’t the external System do something about it?” I asked.

“Because it can’t! Because the local System is happy with all this. Every dead collector is a plus for the development of the world. Starter worlds are a very important stage that we can’t avoid. If we put collectors on a second world straight away, even with all the protections we can provide, they die within a few hours from the auras. Believe me, we’ve tried. And the local System does whatever she wants on starter planets. There are only three worlds we know about where things are different, where collectors have managed somehow to organize and turn their worlds into something civilized. Everywhere else is stuck in the dark ages. Didn’t you understand when you were turned into outcasts? Two Level 2 administrators, instructed to do absolutely nothing, snapped nonetheless and tried to show off how powerful they were. I feel sorry for this world, but we have to get used to it. It’s not like we can choose another one.”

“We’ll see about that,” I said thoughtfully. “We’ll see about that. Gor, Lyra, follow me. I want to talk to the head of the clan here.”

“But Max, it’s filthy everywhere!” Lyra started to complain, but nobody was listening. I walked straight ahead, without looking down at the path. Yes, my feet made a gross squelching sound each time I took a step, and sludge flew in all directions, splattering my clothes, but that didn’t bother me. Dirt could always be washed off, but could you wash away the stain of living in a dump like this?

I felt my hair ruffle as Lyra swooped past me. The elf girl couldn’t bring herself to walk through the disgusting sludge in her beautiful shiny boots, so she activated Shield Strike and shot to the roof of the nearest building. Soon Gor appeared next to her — the char-ra didn’t want to get his feet dirty either. That was how we moved — I strode forward confidently, surprised to find there were no living beings in the town, while Lyra and Gor leaped through the air above me. Little Bald sat on my shoulder and stared glumly ahead.

We finally found a big group of collectors in the center of the town. Or, to be more exact, the village. It was hard to call this dump a town. The central square looked slightly better than the rest of the place. There was significantly less mud, so even Lyra and Gor could jump down from the roof and join me. But it wasn’t the lack of filth that made the square nicer to look at, it was the huge stone and wood barricades that surrounded the square on all sides. A motley crew of collectors were sitting on the barricades and, from what I could see, they were preparing for battle. They certainly weren’t relaxing — all of them looked tense and ready to attack at any moment. Sad to say, however, they all looked like complete bums. Their gear was all Junk, and there wasn’t a glowing green aura to be seen anywhere. If any of them even had a Common item, it was a miracle.

“Grumbler?” I said, frowning, with no clue what to do next. There didn’t seem to be any aggression coming in our direction from the barricades, and there were no red dots on the map, but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t want to kill us as soon as we got any closer.

“Oh, I get it!” said the ball of light happily. “In any other situation, I’d say you were about to die, but I know you’re tired of hearing that sort of thing, right? So… Max, does our group want to have some fun?”

Our group? Have fun? When exactly did Grumbler start thinking of the Selected as her group? Sure, it was nice to hear. But it was weird too — completely out of character.

“What’s going on here?” I asked, expecting her to come up with something horrible for us.

“I’ve worked out why the town looks like a junk heap. Why nobody’s doing any clearing up here. They’re expecting a wave of monsters!”

“That doesn’t sound much like fun to me.”

“The thing is, you can’t just go and set up a town on the edge of the unexplored lands. The lands will resist. Once a year, the local System sends monsters to the town, to see how well the collectors can deal with them. To make sure they develop, rather than just sitting around in their houses. If the collectors can successfully fight off the monsters, they retreat and come back in a year. If not, then the wave attacks the town every day for a month. The collectors that survive all that will keep developing. The rest go toward the development of the local System. From what I can see, they haven’t been able to defeat the wave here, just hold it back. And, if I’m not mistaken, only ten days to two weeks have passed since the attack started. Look how exhausted the defenders are. They’re barely able to stand up. The waves are wearing them down, and the short breaks between them aren’t enough time to recover. That’s why the town looks like a junk heap. That’s why we’ve met so few collectors. It’s because they’re all supposed to die soon. They can’t run away from the town because their clan is bound to it. Without the town, there’s no clan, and who needs a bunch of orphaned collectors? They can’t get through their portal either, because it’s shut off for members of the clan while the wave’s attacking, to stop them all from running away. All that they can do is fight and die unheroically. However, you have a chance to stop it all.”

“Since when do you give a shit about collectors? Especially strangers?”

“You can’t accuse me of suddenly caring for collectors!” Grumbler had taken offense for some reason. “I’m only thinking about the success of our group! As the locals are so badly screwed, with no way out, you can offer them straight up slavery and they’ll agree to it. The local System will even put it on the record. Those who agree to be slaves of the Selected will be saved, and those who are too proud and stupid will die. They’re too dumb to be of any use to us anyway. Get it? And don’t tell me I’m no use to you now.”

“That’s terrible!” said Lyra earnestly, grabbing me by the hand. “Grumbler, that’s even worse than we’ve come to expect from you. I mean, I knew you were capable of anything, but this… Max, let’s turn her off!”

“We’re not going to turn anyone off,” I said thoughtfully.

“Max,” whispered Lyra, and I thought I heard a note of pure terror in her voice.

“Did somebody enslave you in your past life?” I looked straight at the elf girl and saw the seriousness in her emerald-green eyes. She blushed deeply, right to the tips of her ears. She couldn’t answer, but she gave a quick nod. The movement was so slight that nobody else would notice it. So, that was what it meant to be a great model in her world. You shone for the public, but in reality you were a slave.

“Your agent?” I asked. She gave another short nod. Now I understood properly who Lyra was. That was what made her strive so hard to be as beautiful as possible — as soon as you stopped shining, you’d get thrown out. That was the source of her hidden aggression — an inner protest against the slavery of her agents. That was what made her so scared to be alone — slaves couldn’t survive on their own. I felt my fists clenching and I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to visit her planet. Even more than I wanted to get back home, I wanted to go there and smash in the teeth of that agent of hers, then cut off his pointy ears and shove them where the sun don’t shine.

“We’re not going to have any slaves, just allies,” I said firmly. “But Grumbler is right about one thing, we can’t just let this situation play out on its own. If we leave, the collectors will die, and the town will fall. If we just get involved straight away, there’s no advantage for our group. So, what do we do? We go find the head of the clan and we start to negotiate.”

“No slaves?” Lyra looked searchingly into my eyes.

“No slaves. Follow me.”

The defenders of the central square didn’t attack us. One of the barricades was moved slightly to one side, allowing us to enter. It might have been a trap, so I asked Lyra to activate all her auras to the max. Sanctity in its normal mode would help the local collectors recover, but if any of them decided not to respect us, it would just kill them. Lyra could do a lot more than that with her current level, and Dark Healer was always active.

The news that our aura could heal people spread in seconds. We didn’t have time to reach the center of the square before we were surrounded on all sides by the surviving collectors. They didn’t come too close, but they tried to remain in the area of effect of our auras. It felt uncomfortable to be in the middle of such a big crowd — there were about fifty creatures gathered around us. However, all of the ones I saw were Level 5 or lower. There wasn’t one collector who’d reached Level 6.

“Who are you and what are you doing in our town?” We were met by a group of three wounded creatures. The humanoid lizards were quite a sight, with powerful crocodile jaws, red eyes, and scales all over their bodies. In any other situation, I’d have spent a lot more time examining them, but for now I just noted that the heads of the Angels of Death were all one race.

Gurit Doronak Roche

Imeritian, Level 7

Head of the Angels of Death Clan

“We’re the Selected. We came to your town to introduce ourselves. We were planning to establish trading relations with you, but I see now that we’d be better off trying to trade with the monsters that are about to eat you all up.”

Judging by the way all three imeritians flinched at my words, I could tell I’d hit a raw nerve — the defenders were on their last legs. Lyra’s aura was of course allowing them to heal and gain energy, but who said that my elf girl would let them use her aura free of charge? Our group didn’t plan to be famous for its altruism.

“I won’t beat around the bush, I’ll get straight to the point. You’re being attacked by a wave of monsters that sooner or later is going to kill you all. There’s nothing you can about that without help. You don’t have the equipment, the abilities, or the levels. How many of you are there left? About fifty collectors? I suspect the next attack will be the last one. However, you now have a chance to survive, because we just happened to drop by for a visit. So, if you agree to become our vassals, we’ll help you fight off the wave. If you choose to remain loyal to the great clan you’ve broken away from, then you’re on your own.”

“Vassals?” roared Gurit Doronak Roche. Christ, that was a long name! I was going to just call him Gurit. Hopefully, that was his first name. “You’re just a group!”

“Yeah, I don’t care what you call us, I’ve stated my demands. You can remain independent, but you’ll have to pay tribute to us, and fight for us when we need you. In return, we’ll establish trade, open up a store in your town, and start selling goods here. And, as your lords, we’ll help to level you up. It pains me to see that all your fighters are just Level 5. Which clan did you break off from?”

“The Celestial Clan,” said Gurit after a pause. “We made a deal with them three years ago.”

When I had started thinking about the future, I’d immediately run into an obvious question — where did new clans come from? All new collectors were assigned to one of the four great clans, where they were tested and sorted. However, it turned out that collectors could buy their freedom, or rather pay the great clan back for the expenses that had been borne in training the dumb newcomers. Ten thousand silirium per head was a serious figure. That was why the heads of new clans were the most active and successful collectors. Like Gurit, who had managed to get himself to Level 7 before starting his own clan. He’d brought his Level 7 friends with him too, which was quite an achievement. But the leadership wasn’t the whole clan. In order for a united society of collectors to exist, it had to have rank-and-file members. Lots of them. So, where did you get them from? That’s right, from the losers that had been expelled from great clans, or from an agreement of vassalage to one of the great clans. You paid them a huge pile of silirium each year, and return you were assigned manpower. In other words, the existence of ordinary clans had nothing to do with great achievements, it was all about survival.

This was why I had no intention of creating my own clan. What would be the point? Others did it with the aim of rising to the top and becoming one of the great clans themselves, but that hadn’t happened once in the fifty years that Vilion had existed. I had no such ambitions, so I was happy just to stick with my group. I wasn’t even sure that we had the right to take on vassals. We weren’t technically a clan, so we probably weren’t technically entitled to receive tribute from other clans, but I didn’t really give a shit. I planned to do what I wanted to do. Right now, I wanted to take this little town under my wing and set up a base there — invest some silirium, give another gnome a name, level him up to Level 8, and install him in the town, where he could craft and trade. Then, rather than visiting our Dungeon, everyone could come here to this godforsaken town. Which, by then, would be all cleaned up and restored. I couldn’t allow my vassals to live in shit. If I could teach the goblins hygiene and cleanliness, then I’d manage with collectors too.

“I guess they’re not all that celestial after all, seeing as they haven’t sent a raid group to help you. Did you even ask?”

“How could we? The portals won’t let us through, and it’s a week’s journey overland to the nearest town from here.”

“Is there any way to communicate? Like through the System?”

“There is,” nodded the clan leader sadly. “They must’ve received a notification that we’ve been attacked. But… It looks like they decided not to get involved. We’ve… There’s been some friction recently.”

Judging by Gurit’s discomfort, he really did care about his town and his collectors. I liked that a lot. And, if it was possible, I liked the Celestial Clan even less than before.

“Chief, the wave! The monsters are coming!” A panting collector came rushing over. Judging by his crazed expression, there were some serious monsters attacking the town. His next words confirmed it:

“Chief, I saw some rare beasts out there. Level 6! Huge ogres, absolutely terrifying. And their weapons were glowing green.”

“Time to make your mind up, chief,” I said calmly. “The Celestial Clan aren’t coming, and we’re already here.”

“What can the three of you do against the wave?” It was clear Gurit was ready to give in. We just had to wait a little longer.

“There’s a lot we can do. System, please make a record of our agreement. The Selected are ready to protect the town of Khrythm and stop the rolling wave of monsters. If we do that, the Angels of Death will become our vassals, paying a tribute of twenty percent of all the silirium that the members of the clan collect to our treasury. We’ll work out the details once we’ve stopped the wave.”

“Are you mad, collector?” snorted Gurit. “The local System doesn’t work like that! It…”

The leader of the Angels of Death couldn’t finish his sentence. He stopped, wide-eyed, and his jaw dropped all the way down to his belt. Yeah, he was definitely more like a crocodile than a lizard.

Agreement Prepared

Do all parties accept the terms?

Yes/No

“Who the hell are you?” whispered Gurit.

“Is that your way of saying yes?” I asked, retaining my calm manner.

“Yes, may the System choke you! Yes! Save my clan and we’ll be your vassals.”

“Yes!” I said firmly to seal the deal, and the System’s notification changed.

Agreement Recorded

The wave has been enhanced in accordance with the current level of the Selected.

A Level 9 Champion has been added to the wave!

“What the hell? We were getting on so well,” I said. The System always had another trick up her sleeve.

Chapter 20

I COULDN’T FULLY EXPLAIN why I’d gotten us involved. It just felt like something inside me was driving me to take this seemingly reckless step. After all, what was really the best move for us? To step straight back through the portal and into our cozy home. Or rather, the cozy Dungeon that we now called home.

Why didn’t I do that? Maybe it was because I cared about other people. Although, when I say people, there wasn’t a single human among them. Sure, they were intelligent beings, but could they really be called people? Those were the sort of philosophical musings that came over me all the time. And, often at the most inappropriate moments, I remembered the way my dad brought me up. My old man always said that it was better to be strong and smart than just to be strong. Or just to be smart, for that matter.

You’d think that was just stating the blindingly obvious, but as I learned from my short life in my old world, for the majority of people — the overwhelming majority — this simple truth was far from obvious. Although, of course, there were nuances.

The first nuance was one that I discovered at eight years old, when my dad decided to develop his favorite son, i.e. me, by sending me to chess club. By then, I already had a punchbag at home, and my dad had taught me a few moves. So, when one of the skinny nerds thrashed me at chess three times in a row, I got up from the table and smacked him in the jaw. That was when I learned that there is such a thing as society, with its mores, rules, and laws, that goes against the basic animal nature of human beings.

That smart but weak nerd was protected from the strong but not very wise me. That was the end of my chess career, unsurprisingly, but it did teach me something. Right now in this world, both strength and smarts were at a premium, and these poor wretches that called themselves collectors didn’t appear to have very much of either. So, why had I taken it upon myself to defend them? Well, maybe I was overcompensating. Maybe I was still ashamed of what I did to that poor nerdy chess player. Did I mention that I broke his glasses?

However, that wasn’t the most important factor. The most important thing influencing my thinking was simply that I could do it. I could protect these beings and, in the future, make my life here a little more comfortable. Even though the local System’s final move to add a Champion to the wave of monsters did feel like a bit of a setup.

Well, we’d see how things turned out. Unlike the poor locals, who didn’t have anywhere to run, we had resurrection scrolls and transportation scrolls. So, we really weren’t risking anything. Except for our honor and reputation, of course.

Anyway, Max, get it together. It’s time to work out what to do here.

After we’d made the deal, I quickly asked the scout how long we had before the wave arrived and understood that it was at least half an hour. The monsters ran fast, and they’d been spotted late, after they came out of the forest. I wanted to point out the advantages of long-distance patrols, that would ensure an advancing enemy was spotted in plenty of time. However, looking at the gaunt and haggard faces around me, I realized that the only thing on their minds was survival. And many of them were so exhausted that they were ready right then to give up the ghost and die. Right there, I flattened out a section of ground with the sole of my boot and, getting hold of a stick, I tried to get the lay of the land from the head crocodile. I was too lazy to say his full name, so for now he’d just have to be “Croc”. If he behaved himself properly, then maybe I’d call him “Dundee”.

What he told me cheered me up a little. The Angels of Death Clan had chosen the site of their capital carefully. It was located on the high bank of small river, overlooking a bend. This meant that more than half of the perimeter of the village was reasonably well defended by water. The village itself was also elevated, so the monsters would have to run uphill to reach it. Originally the village had been flanked by a large wall, from which archers had been able to shoot the approaching monsters.

By now, though, the wall had been completely destroyed, and all the surviving collectors had gathered in the center of the town, with their backs to the river.

Furthermore, there was another peculiarity of the monsters’ attacks. They absolutely had to destroy something — walls, houses, any structure they came across. By keeping themselves at the very edge of the monsters’ vector of attack, the collectors only had to face a small part of the enemy forces. The majority of the monsters remained happily at the start of the settlement, pulling down the walls and the miserable shacks. Something happened in the monsters’ heads and, having smashed up a few structures, some timer went off to let them know their mission was complete. They turned around and left, without ever actually attacking the residents.

This was how the Angels of Death had withstood the last three catastrophic waves that had come after the monsters had broken down the first and strongest line of defenses.

It also turned out that the fifty-three collectors around us weren’t the only survivors. The Angels of Death Clan had originally had three hundred members, living in their capital and in two hunting camps.

However, the monsters had attacked unexpectedly, when all the battle-ready members of the clan were in the camps. They comprised one third of the clan — a hundred “warrior” collectors. Messengers had been sent out, but nobody had returned. The chief crocodile assumed that those cowards, on hearing or seeing what was happening to their capital, had simply decided to abandon the rest of the clan.

Of the two hundred humanoid creatures remaining in the capital, a third had died under the first wave. Another part of the company had just packed up and fled to the west, and of the eighty or so “heroes” that had stayed, there now remained only fifty-three.

What made things worse was that most of the ones left in the town were craftsmen. Apart from the three high-level leaders, there wasn’t a warrior among them.

“So, why didn’t you run away?” I asked the chief.

The crocodile grimaced sadly and told me:

“First, the lands just to the west before the developed towns are extremely dangerous. Second, until the head of the clan is destroyed, those monsters will chase them to the ends of the earth. And third, I’m just tired of running. Things haven’t been going great recently…”

It turned out there was a fourth point too. The tired and suffering collectors who gathered around Lyra like moths around a flame, gradually healing and trying to gather their strength, let us in on an interesting secret. It turned out they drew lots for who was going to stay. Of the ones who left, only a few were warriors. Most of the party was made up of the women and the weakest men of the clan. By staying here, the last defenders hoped to give them a chance at survival, as the vicious monsters wouldn’t give chase. After all, the monsters could move much faster than the humanoids. So yes, the locals did still retain some sense of decency and heroism after all.

However, I didn’t understand the behavior of the Celestial Clan. Considering that their leader was Level 9, I would’ve thought that they had good, strong raid groups that could defend a “subsidiary” clan from attacks. But then I thought of another “however”.

I had just seen how, until my group agreed to join the fight, the System had calculated the strength of the enemy. If a bunch of Level 9s had come from the clan, the fight would’ve been against a much stronger horde of monsters. Maybe the Celestial Clan had just peed their pants. Maybe that spiteful furry cat of theirs was no great warrior or wise leader, and just an opportunist, surviving here like everybody else, just in greater comfort.

I had a lot of questions and I got very few answers. Also, we didn’t have much time before the battle began. Still, I’d understood the main points.

“There’s one more thing,” I said, turning to the crocodile. “We don’t have time to agree officially with the System, but you need to follow my orders to the letter.”

“I’m not your vassal yet, human.”

“That’s right, and there’s a good chance you never will be. You know what these are?” I said, pulling out two scrolls.

“I do — a transportation scroll and a resurrection scroll.”

“Exactly. And that’s not to mention that the waystone works just fine for us. What’s to stop me just turning around and leaving?”

“You wouldn’t dare go against the will of the System,” said the head of the clan without much confidence.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t,” I said with a grin. “In order to show my respect for our agreement, I’ll fire off a couple of shots at the monsters and then get the hell out of here. Maybe there’ll be some kind of penalty to pay, but why would I need vassals that can’t take orders properly?”

“What do you want, human? Command away,” said the crocodile, bowing his head.

“Now, that’s the right choice, my toothy friend!” I slapped the crocodile on the back, and he flinched violently.

I’d try to remember that any physical interaction was hard for the crocodiles to bear.

“Everyone, move forward! Lyra, Gor! Lead everyone to the edge of town!”

“Forward?” said the crocodile incredulously.

“Shut up!” I barked at him. “Do as you’re told. Lyra, activate Fervor!”

I’d notice the previous time she activated it that Fervor looked like a lot of little gold stars or butterflies that fluttered away from Lyra on all sides, touching the collectors all around. I could see the worry lines smoothing away, and their faces (or snouts) breaking into smiles.

“Onward, brave warriors! Let’s protect this village from those vile monsters!”

Gor began to play the commander, which worked quite well. They weren’t exactly eager, and they kept glancing at their gloomy chief, but gradually the collectors made their way to the edge of their town.

“How many archers do you have left?”

The chief was still looking around dumbfounded.

“Twenty bows, but they only have ten arrows apiece.”

“Where’s the town’s main stone? Does the store still work?”

“It works, but so what? We ran out of silirium ages ago.”

“Move it!” I said, shoving him in the back. I’d already forgotten about not touching the crocs. Besides, we were in a hurry.

The collectors were all moving in the right direction, while the croc and I ran to the stone.

“How many of your men can still actually shoot?”

“Me and my brothers, plus another ten who can more or less hit their targets. But we don’t have arrows,” said the croc again, stupidly.

I realized there wasn’t a huge brain in his lizard head. How had he managed to organize his own clan and survive for so long? He was probably a fine example of that famous mix of idiocy and courage. He was certainly no coward. And, considering he was Level 7, he had to be pretty strong too.

“Why don’t even you leaders have any decent gear left?” I asked him.

“We sold everything to buy provisions and arrows,” answered the croc with a frown.

That was another plus point for my future vassal — he wasn’t greedy and he had a good heart. He took care of his people.

As we ran to the store, I muttered to Grumbler, who was floating beside me:

“Take the goods. You’re going to be our supplier in the field.”

“What?” said the croc, looking around in confusion.

“Oh,” I’d forgotten that nobody except us could see the shining sphere. “Grumbler, show yourself to him. The warriors will have to see who’s supplying them with arrows.” I’d already pulled up the store interface.

Grumbler made herself visible, and the croc let out a shocked squawk.

“Who the hell are you people?” he asked again.

It was like he was glitching, but I really didn’t have to answer those questions.

“Take them,” I said to Grumbler as quivers of arrows began to appear in the air, along with fifteen new bows, which she also gathered into her inventory.

There was no time for careful shopping, but I didn’t want to just buy the first thing I saw — dealing with Junk rank stuff wasn’t worth the hassle, so all the bows I bought were Common. As for arrows, I allowed myself a little luxury. Back at the Dungeon, I’d had time to get acquainted with the interface, so I quickly found the seller I needed. There was some irony in the fact I was buying direct from the Celestial Clan, who had apparently managed to set up a production line of arrows with exploding warheads. I suspected the local archers weren’t great shots, but with explosive ammo, that wouldn’t be such a serious problem.

“A space inventory? You’ve got one? Who the hell…” The croc was still in shock.

“Just shut up already.” At the last moment, I was overcome with a fit of generosity and splashed out on three Uncommon bows, one of which I literally shoved into his teeth. “Select Increased Range, Increased Velocity, and Ammo Property Bonus. Don’t even think about messing me around.”

It looked like the croc was beginning to get a grip on what was going on, and for the first time in his big, close-set eyes I saw a glimmer of hope.

The bow got the necessary properties, so I handed him the other two.

“For your brothers. Now, let’s go!”

“Max, how can you be so dumb?” said Grumbler unexpectedly. There was no reaction from the croc, so presumably only I could hear the flying ball. I should probably have answered something, but Grumbler went on anyway: “Why did you waste all that time running to the store? I’m multipurpose now — inventory, store, and a whole lot more… Oh, I get it! You think there might be spies from the great clans here and you want to keep my abilities secret, right? Why didn’t I think of that… You’re right, of course. It’s better to use the normal store in front of other people.”

She’d answered her own question. I giggled a little as I ran. I wasn’t going to tell Grumbler that I’d just forgotten that she had access to the store, was I? It’s not every day you have to fight off a wave of incoming monsters.

When we reached the current edge of the village, where there were still more-or-less whole houses standing — beyond there were only scattered ruins — I saw that we were just in time. The collectors were all glancing toward the river. Despite Lyra’s Fervor, they weren’t feeling great. I wouldn’t have been either, looking at the monsters that were slowly but surely climbing toward us up the slope.

A dozen Level 6 ogres stood head and shoulders above the rest of the ranks. The main mass of the attack were real Level 4 and Level 5 orcs. Unlike our ragged band of collectors, they were all uniformly glowing with the clear white light of Common items. That was really weird. Yes, the System had selected “punishers” of the right level, but while all the collectors looked like bums, the orcs, despite their ugliness and the artificiality of their gear, looked clearly stronger.

I glanced further on, and there he was, the Level 9 Champion. If the ogres were about a third taller than the orcs, then the Champion was a third taller still, almost twice the height of the orcs. Just to be clear, the orcs were the height of average human beings — around five foot eight or thereabouts. A fair bit taller than goblins and gnomes, but not the seven-foot hulks that Tolkien described, thank heaven. What made me most grateful, though, was the fact that the Champion was moving without any hurry whatsoever, remaining far behind the main force — either the System had rushed its choice of Champion and messed up, or this was the plan all along. Either way, it was a big help for me.

“Hand out the bows and the ammo.”

Grumbler began tossing out the bows. It has to be said, the main croc was now full of energy. He called out the names of several collectors, who came running to collect their bows.

“If you run out of ammo, raise your hand,” I shouted. “This is Grumbler, she’ll be handing out ammo during the fight. And, for god’s sake, try to aim better. The arrows are explosive. Don’t hit your comrades. If you do, you’ll be punished. Severely punished! Archers, get up on the roofs. The rest of you, block the way here.”

“I have to stay with my people,” said the commander in confusion, his two brothers next to him.

“That’s not your concern anymore. It’s mine. Get up on the roof, you’ll be more use up there. Get on with it!”

Right then, my old man would’ve been proud of me. It was him who’d taught me how to put a commanding note in my voice. The crocodiles snapped out of their stupor and ran for the roof. When I looked around, I realized that I’d screwed up a little.

Over thirty collectors had gone up to the roof, leaving less than fifteen milling around on the ground in confusion, armed with clubs and Junk shields. I could see in their eyes that they expected swift and inevitable death. I should’ve armed them with something else, but there was no time.

“Don’t pee your pants, gentlemen,” I said, laughing. “The idea is that nobody’s going to reach you. Don’t fire until you hear my command,” I shouted up to the roof, and marched forward.

“Commander,” said Gor, appearing on my right as Lyra appeared on my left.

The elf girl was unusually serious and ready for battle. Gor also looked like he was ready to take on ten of the monsters single-handed.

“Where are you two going?” I said in surprise.

“The same place you are,” said Gor.

“Where you go, we go with you,” said Lyra.

“We’re ready to die at your side,” said the big man movingly.

I very nearly swore at them. These two were so lucky that they had me to look after them. I doubt they’d have lived long without me. They’d have died spectacularly, I’m sure, but that wasn’t what I had planned for them.

“Protect the archers! I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “I’m just creating a little diversion.”

“Do you promise not to die, Max?” asked Lyra, looking straight into my eyes.

“I promise,” I said. “What position are we on now? Number thirty-five, right? And you said there were over a hundred.”

“A hundred and twenty-nine,” said Lyra with a grin.

“Right, and I plan to try all of them. Although I think I’ll need a good warmup for some of them.”

“I can help you with that too,” said Lyra, giving me a very unwarrior-like kiss on the cheek and running off to take up her position.

I kept moving forward, confidently and unhurriedly. One thing I’d learned to do in this world was run fast. Having assessed the speed of the orcs, I realized that I had a good chance of thinning their ranks before they reached the village.

To that end, I let my walk shift smoothly into a run, heading straight for the whooping and hollering ranks of monsters. This battle would be legendary — was exactly what I wasn’t thinking. There’s nothing legendary about killing. There’s just survival and good sense.

When I felt that I’d run far enough, I stopped, fell to one knee, and drew my crossbow. Direct Hit went straight into the head of the foremost ogre, burrowing directly into his eye. He howled and slumped to the ground, crushing a couple of orcs as he fell. It didn’t kill them, but it certainly slowed them down a little.

“Is it really that easy? Go on, Little Bald, your turn.”

The dracat shot up into the sky and sent a shower of fireballs down to explode among the monsters. I’d already taken down another ogre. For a moment, I thought Little Bald and I might manage the whole battle on our own. However, I soon saw that orcs were beginning to emerge from the wave of flames, burning but still very much alive. I had to adjust my optimistic forecast slightly.

When my third shot ran into some forcefield that glinted red in front of the face of the next ogre, I finally realized that my brilliant plan was a washout.

Nonetheless, you couldn’t claim that Little Bald’s work was in vain. The Level 5 orcs nearly always died from a direct hit. The others burned, and that clearly wasn’t making them happy. Furthermore, my Direct Hit was guaranteed to kill any orc.

I selected the largest of them and kept firing as I gradually fell back. I spent two bolts on ogres, but the result was the same. Their unknown forcefield knocked back my bolts, so I turned back to the orcs.

They say that when there’s a fire under your ass, you move faster. I can confirm that’s a hundred per cent true. I could see quite clearly how the burning orcs had started to advance faster, and for that reason my measured withdrawal soon turned into a full-on dash.

It probably looked funny from the side to see my disheveled figure come flying back to our position. Some of the collectors probably got a little disoriented. Apparently, they thought I wasn’t going to stop — I was going to run straight past them and flee back to the waystone. But no, I put the brakes on when I reached the nearest house, then sprang up onto the roof with catlike grace and agility.

Breathing heavily, I took a look at the silirium counter, which had been ticking down fast from my flying artillery. I realized again that a collector without silirium is a dead collector. In the future, whatever else we did, we weren’t going to end up without a decent supply.

I’d had another idea while I was running, but I’d have to wait for later to test it out.

“Ho-o-old!” I shouted, raising my hand and keeping my eyes on the orcs coming toward us out of the flames.

“Ho-o-old!” I shouted again.

I saw how the collectors’ hands were shaking as they glanced nervously at me, so I turned to Lyra:

“Hey, put Fervor at full power. Don’t worry about the silirium. And activate your healing aura too. We’re going to need it.”

The golden sparks flew from the elf girl in an even stronger stream, spreading to the warriors around her.

I finally dropped my hand:

“Fire!”

A barrage of arrows came flying down from above. Sure, I would’ve like them all to hit their targets, but the results were better than I expected, although worse than they could’ve been. Nonetheless, the greater part of the arrows hit the ranks of orcs.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“Fire at will!” I shouted, then turned my attention to my own plan. One of the ogres was now in range.

I shot, the field flickered, the bolt ricocheted…

I shot again, the monster staggered slightly, but the field stayed up.

The bastards were getting closer. I could’ve kept destroying orcs with guaranteed success, but I was spending time and ammo on the invulnerable ogre.

“Oh well,” I said. “God loves a trinity, so I’ll try one more time.”

I aimed carefully and pressed the trigger.

The forcefield still partially worked, keeping at least half of the bolt out of the ogre’s eye. The other half went in, though. The monster roared and stopped, trying to pull the bolt out of his head. In the meantime, I shot off a fourth bolt, and this one went straight into his other eye, completely destroying his little ogre brain. He dropped to the ground.

“Croc!” I shouted, once again unable to remember what the clan chief’s name was. “Front left ogre. All three of you, double shots!”

He didn’t seem to mind the name, and he got his bearings fast. He and his brothers aimed carefully and launched their arrows.

Explosions and flames engulfed the ogre, but he kept moving as if nothing had happened. The shield had worked. Basically, I was expecting that, which was why I’d ordered double shots. The second round of arrows caused the monster to howl, and burns appeared on his body. But I didn’t leave him to suffer for long — one shot from my crossbow went straight into his eye socket.

Without letting myself or my troops get their breath back, I shouted:

“Nearest on the right, same again!”

Well, maybe you could describe that battle as legendary after all, because not one of the ogres made it to our melee fighters. The orcs who did reach their destination were met by the outsize killer crab we liked to call Gor, along with Lyra’s strong shield and horribly fatal aura. Dark Healing really was something else. By the time they reached the wall, the monsters were pretty much dead on their feet, and even the exhausted collectors were able to summon enough strength to finish them off.

The archers weren’t slacking off either, shooting the howling monsters at literally point-blank range.

When all the common-or-garden monsters were on the ground, I turned my attention forward, where the massive Champion, still with an expression of absolute calm on his face, had reached the edge of our settlement.

Well then, let’s see what a Champion has in store for us. At the very least, I’d been cured of the idea that we were all going to die. I mean, I was never planning on dying, but now I even had some hope that I’d actually get some vassals. All we needed was a little time to deal with this big bastard.

Chapter 21

“ARCHERS, READY, AIM, fire!”

Explosive arrows flew off toward the Champion. I wasn’t expecting they’d have much effect. The difference between Level 5 collectors and the huge Level 9 monster was too big. But I was interested in the bastard’s defenses — just how good were they? Almost all the shots were on target, including my bolt, but not one of them was able to reach the monster’s body.

“Grumbler, we all need an aura like that,” I muttered.

“The list of requirements is ready now,” I heard her answer quietly. “Auras that block ranged attacks only appear on bracers, which none of you have, so you’ll have to do without for now. Besides, the issue of shielding demands a complex approach, Max. Like this Champion has — you can’t just block physical attacks, you need to think about magic damage too.

“Well, go ahead and think about it. Any thoughts on this Champion?”

“He’s a Level 9 ogre with twenty-seven abilities. So far, I can only make out four defensive auras. How many attacking auras he has is unclear. The same goes for his active abilities. The thing I do know is that you shouldn’t pay any attention to his slowness. It’s a bluff.”

“What makes you say that?” I asked, looking again at the huge body wending its way toward us. The archers continued to bombard him with arrows that exploded on impact, but there was no noticeable effect. Neither the arrows nor the explosions dealt the Champion any damage.

“Look at his armor. It’s some kind of chainmail. It’s not steel, which is what you’d expect on a huge body like his. That means the monster has enhanced mobility. It must do — the System wouldn’t create a contradiction like that.”

“Create? You mean that Champion wasn’t living in the forest all this time? He’s just been created?”

“All the creatures of the wave are created for the duration of the wave. As soon as the event is over, they disappear, and there’s no need to bury them.”

“Are there any bolts on sale in the auction that pierce energy shields?”

“No. Besides, they’d be useless. I already told you, this is a complex approach. Armor-piercing projectiles get through the armor, but they’re stopped by the energy shields. Electric projectiles will get through those shields, but they’re useless against armor.”

“But he doesn’t have much armor, does he?”

“Well-made chainmail isn’t easy to pierce either, Max, even with your weapon.”

“Still, I want to try,” I insisted. “If there isn’t any electric ammo in the auction, I bet there’s some in the store, right?”

“There is. Five thousand silirium per projectile.”

“How much?” I almost choked.

“What did you expect? The prices in the store are always higher than in the auction. Besides, that’s practically a unique item. I’m not sure that collectors can actually make anything like that themselves.”

I glanced at our stocks of silirium. Before we’d got involved in this business, we’d had a little over thirty-two thousand on our account. My shopping spree in the auction and the battle with the rank-and-file monsters had put a big dent in that, taking the total down to seventeen thousand. Splashing out five thousand on a single bolt was excessive. It would be simpler to send Lyra and Gor into close combat, the way we normally did. Simpler and a hell of a lot cheaper.

Come on, live a little!

“I’ll buy it!” Twelve thousand silirium was enough for now, and we could work something out after the battle. The bodies of the monsters from the wave were still lying around near the walls, shrouded in a blue cloud of silirium. When it was all over, I’d get Gor to go collect it. With his skills, that would be a profitable venture.

Silirium -5000, Total: 11955

Item received: electric crossbow bolt

“Lyra!” I croaked, as my limbs began to tremble. Nasty black spots were clouding my vision, my body was shaking, and overall, I felt like shit. Why I didn’t just toss the electric bolt as far away from me as possible is a mystery for the ages. The elf girl’s aura wasn’t enough, so I had to ask her to activate Healing. She managed in time, and her ability wrapped me in protection that briefly blocked the influence of my new purchase. That gave me the chance to pull myself together and load the bolt in my crossbow. It looked strange, like a frozen bolt of lightning. There was no sense that it was made of metal. The shaking continued, now through the crossbow, but the intensity had reduced considerably.

“Grumbler, what the hell is this?”

“A timely demonstration of the fact that your group is catastrophically lacking in protection against magic, one branch of which is electricity,” said the flying ball calmly. “I’ve already prepared a list of essential properties for your items. No doubt you’ll be asking me why you need them all, so this demonstration can’t do any harm. Bear in mind, Max, that electricity is only a small part of the problems you’ll be faced with. There are all kinds of poisons and curses that are far worse. Even Lyra’s abilities will be no help against them.”

“Everyone ready?” I asked, taking aim at the Champion. “We’ll use our usual tactics — me, Lyra, and Gor. Little Bald, take a break. This isn’t your battle. Alright? Let’s go!”

The electric crossbow bolt shot forward, followed by Lyra. The Champion was already around fifty yards from the ruined town wall. The monster was emitting such a noxious aura that even the ordinary grass around him withered instantly. That wasn’t just an aura, it was vampirism. The bastard was sucking the life force out of all the living beings near him. The longer you were in his presence, the worse it was for you, and the better for him. No doubt that was what the System had been thinking when she’d created this enemy for us. It’s vampirism not only completely blocked the effect of Lyra’s Sanctification, it also attacked, allowing the boss to heal. Taking into account all the monster’s defenses, what we were facing was the perfect weapon against the Selected. Except for one thing — the bastard’s aura disappeared when he was shaken. My crossbow bolt went straight into his eye, embedding itself deep in the asshole’s brain. Amazingly, that wasn’t enough to kill the Champion, and he remained standing. However, he was forced to concentrate solely on his injured eye, forgetting everything else that was going on around him.

He paid for that.

Shield Strike took Lyra to him, and when she got there the elf girl laid a hand on his huge body, freezing for a short time, and then starting to do what she did best — healing. The monster had armor, thick skin, and protection, but there was no saving him from Dark Healing — all Lyra’s damage went straight to his body, bypassing his defenses. It was horrible to think what was going on with the Champion’s internal organs. Despite being stunned, he was beginning to squirm and twist. His body was trying to live and fight off the plague that had descended on it in the form of Lyra. However, it didn’t get the chance, as Gor appeared next to the Champion. His Legendary dagger sank into the monster’s skull, with a hideous scraping sound. The dagger cut through flesh, piercing defenses, splitting impenetrable skin, and cracking bone. Bellatrice’s gift, enhanced with a rune, was entirely indifferent to what it was destroying. The most important thing was that Gor had enough time. I had removed the aura, Lyra had bought us time, and Gor had done the rest. Ten seconds later, the ogre’s vast body dropped to the ground with a deafening smash.

You have fulfilled the conditions of the agreement — the wave has been destroyed.

The Angels of Death clan has now become a vassal of the Selected group.

All clans in the world of Villion have been notified concerning the Selected group’s ability to take vassals. You will receive the status of “great group”, equivalent to the status of a great clan.

Grumbler spluttered, then more calmly announced that she had received a description of the changes affecting our group. From now on, not only did we have the right to take other clans under our wing, we would also, in three years’ time, be obliged to welcome new collectors arriving on the planet for a full year. That meant a thousand living beings that had only just been torn from their own worlds. Scared, shocked, uncomprehending… Twelve months meant twelve thousand collectors, the majority of whom, according to Grumbler, would die in their very first month. After all, the great clans had no use for losers.

It sounded like a real pain in the ass for us. Where the hell would we put that many collectors? Anyway, it was a problem for the future. Right now, we had other things to focus on — we had to get our loot and get it fast. Grumbler had scared me that the monsters would disappear as soon as the wave was over. We needed to hurry.

“Gor, silirium and items need to be collected. We’ll get to everything else later. Go.”

“Got it,” shouted the char-ra, already leaping from one blue cloud to the next.

“Lyra, go with him,” I said, noticing the benefit of her Aura of Enhancement. It didn’t just have an effect on our auras and abilities, but also on the amount of silirium Gor got from using his ability. One simple Level 5 orc gave eighty silirium, and we’d put down a whole pack of them. A single Level 6 ogre, of which there were a dozen lying down there, was worth a hundred and ninety-two silirium, and the Level 9 Champion who had fallen so easily, produced a whole five hundred and seventy-six silirium.

In the end, we made a tidy profit. Fifty orcs, twelve ogres, and one Champion brought us a net gain of almost seven thousand silirium. That made life a little easier. I was still considering the idea of breaking down all the useless items that Gor had taken from the corpses, but when I looked back at the town, all such thoughts immediately vanished. It was a happy coincidence that fifty orcs exactly matched the number of regular defenders, not counting their three commanders.

“Crocodile, come here!” I yelled, as I watched Gor continue his work. The char-ra was knee-deep in the process of collecting loot, stripping the bodies of absolutely everything. Even underwear, it turned out, could be broken down, giving thirty-six silirium per piece. The wave was finished, but there was still work to be done. I ought to think of a way of rewarding Gor — he was proving incredibly useful. Without him, our group wouldn’t even exist. Once stripped of their clothes, the orcs’ bodies dried out and crumbled to dust — the System collecting its own.

“You called, sovereign?” The head of the Angels of Death was at my side in seconds. And he wasn’t alone, he’d brought his assistants. Judging by the expressions on their faces… Actually, who the hell knows? I can’t read what’s in a crocodile’s eyes. They looked at me unblinking. Anyway, what was his name again? Gurit, that’s right. Or is Croc better? Ah, who gives a shit?

“Right, Gurit, so these items are only Common rank, but they’re still a damn sight better than what your warriors are equipped with now. There are fifty sets here, so your first task is to apportion the loot among the men who have stayed in the town. I need a strong clan, not a bunch of bums. Your next task is to send somebody out after the party that left the town. They can come back now. Your third and most important task is that you have three days to get this town clean and tidy. Get rid of the dirt and restore the houses and walls. Everyone left here is a craftsman, right? Well, let them get to work.”

“We need resources. We don’t have shovels, buckets, or anything. We can’t restore this place with our bear hands.”

“You’ll get all that. First, sort out the loot. Do you and your brothers need anything from the ogres? The items are big, but maybe something will fit. There’s a load of Uncommon stuff, and it would be a pity to break it down or sell it.”

“Sire,” said Gurit in a strange tone.

“My lord,” I corrected him out of habit.

“Sorry… my lord,” said the crocodile, bowing slightly. “How long have you been in the world of Vilion?”

“Coming up for two weeks,” I told him, unsure where the conversation was going.

“Two weeks?” Gurit’s jaw dropped again, but this time he was able to pull himself together fast. “That explains a lot. Did you not know that the size of items makes no difference? Every time that a collector obtains an item, and it isn’t the right size for them, they just submit the item to the System, and they get exactly the same item back, but with the right measurements.”

“Grumbler,” I said, glaring at the flying ball that had frozen in mid-air. The best thing she could think of was to hide behind Lyra, after a giving a little squeal.

“I forgot to tell you! Then I thought you really didn’t need the information anyway, and then everything got so busy and chaotic that I completely forgot about it. What difference would it have made anyway?”

“What difference?” Now it was Lyra’s turn to get angry. “Just look at this helmet! It’s too big for me. I’ve been using a wad of cloth to stop it from flying off.”

“Oh!” Grumbler quickly flew away from the angry elf girl toward Gor but stopped just before she reached our scout. Gor wasn’t looking any happier with her. If anything, he was even more furious.

“Don’t tell me, items can get bigger as well as getting smaller, can’t they?” rumbled the big man. “I’ve been worried all the time that nothing’s going to fit me, and it turns out you just forgot to tell us?”

Grumbler started fluttering from one to the next of us, until she finally stopped exactly in the center of the small triangle and pleaded:

“My mistake, please, I’m sorry! Back then I thought you were going to die. Then I tried to arrange it so you would die… I won’t do it again!”

To be honest, it was hard to believe in Grumbler’s sincerity. The sneaky ball had her back against the wall, and she just had to find a way out. Sure, she didn’t want to dump us anymore — staying with us was now interesting and rewarding. Rewarding in the sense that she was now assigned a pile of resources that she could use as she saw fit. Who knew what she was actually getting up to in the background? The cunning bitch could be making bank by screwing up the auction. That was well within her capabilities. I’d have to question her about it sometime.

“Gurit, I’m not going back on what I said. Share all this out within the clan. And don’t forget about yourself. It’s not right for the chief to be wandering around in rags. Grumbler, how can we arrange communications between the sovereign and his vassals?”

“There are lots of options, depending on your requirements and abilities. You can write each other letters and send them with a courier, you can buy a distance communication device in the store and activate it whenever you want to talk. The external System base is always ready to welcome those who want to chat.”

“So, there isn’t any long-distance communication tool?”

“Did you not hear what I said? There is a distance communication device. When one of you wants to talk, you tap the button, and a signal is sent to the other. Then you both go to the external base and talk.”

“Max is thinking of a telephone,” said Lyra, coming to my aid.

“Oh, that’s what you mean. No, there’s nothing like that. How would it even work? There would be so much silirium required that a minute-long call would bankrupt you. A signal to the other party, then straight to the external base. That’s the best you’ve got.”

I needed Bellatrice. If anyone in this world could make a proper long-distance communication device, it would be her. I didn’t bother stating this obvious fact right away, otherwise the local System would have time to prepare for my conversation with the engineer. It would be better if it was spontaneous. For now, I’d just accept the fact that there weren’t conversation amulets or anything of the sort in the world of Vilion. Which was quite strange when you came to think about it.

“What next, sire?” The crocodile had completed his task in literally a few minutes. The vast pile of items had vanished just like that. Or rather, it was vanishing at high speed. Somehow, the Angels of Death had formed a line and the surviving clan members were now receiving their rewards — a full set of Common rank armor and a weapon. All of which would make them considerably stronger, as long as they didn’t mess around with the properties like my Lyra had.

“Next? Are their fighters among your lot?” I asked, nodding to the line.

“I can find some,” nodded Gurit.

“Excellent, take this!” I carelessly tossed our key to the Level 2 Dungeon at him. At the store, the equivalent cost ten thousand silirium, and only one was sold per month.

“That’s…” Once again, the crocodile’s jaw dropped. I was getting tired of the way he turned into a stunned statue every time we had a conversation. I’d have to issue him with a warning.

“It’s a Dungeon key,” I told him. “Level 2. As soon as you’ve cleaned up the town, gather an army and activate the key. I know it’s only Level 2, but the aura in there should be enough to get you to Level 6. Go sit in the Dungeon for a month, just be sure to take enough food with you.”

“Yes, sire. We’ll do just that.”

“I need a map of the area, with all the sites of interest marked. Got anything like that?”

Gurit nodded imperceptibly, and one of his advisors handed me a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it and froze for a while, reading through the long list of names. This wasn’t like the map of the area near the Pyramid of Sharaja. Here everything had been explored and carefully noted.

“Grumbler? Anything useful here?”

“Well…” said Grumbler thoughtfully. “At first glance, I can tell you the locals have made some effort. Oh, Max, look! There’s a goblin village far in the east!”

“Level 6,” said Gurit. “We’ve kept away from there. It’s too dangerous. The goblins don’t bother us either.”

Level 6? Was that the influence of the Pyramid of Sharaja? No, it was too far away. That meant the goblins had gotten their level from some kind of source. And, from what I could tell, it wasn’t just one or two goblins who’d reached those heights, but the whole village. That meant the source there was impressive. Judging by the map, it was about thirty miles to the village, which meant we had a great opportunity to head over there and check everything out. You can’t have too much silirium — that was going to be the group’s motto from now on.

“Right, forest, lakes, small mines — none of that’s interesting,” Grumbler continued, examining the map. “Oh, wow! Why didn’t you say anything about this?”

“About what?”

“I imagine she’s talking about the big mine,” said Gurit. “Due south, near the place called Eagle Peak, there’s a huge multilevel mine. However, it’s guarded by Level 8 monsters. We lost three squads of scouts before we found out the place existed. We informed the Celestial Clan, and they sent a raid group, but we never saw the group again. Maybe they used transportation scrolls, or maybe they all died. That was five years ago. When we’d only just started building Khrythm. We put the place on the map, but we never went there ourselves. Either the Celestial Clan set up a base there, or they got a bloody nose and headed home. I’m not going to sacrifice my clanmates to find out the truth.”

“And you don’t need to,” I said, looking at my group. “You know full well what an ore mine is. The gnomes at our place are practically bouncing with joy on the seventh floor. If the Celestial Clan have set up in the area, then they’ve done it via a waystone. They mine ore and turn it into silirium, and they’re doing that on our land.”

“On our land,” Garit corrected me.

“On the land of our vassals,” I partially agreed with him. “My personal opinion is that it should be our mine. We do need ore, after all. The gnomes are sitting around with nothing to forge. It’s not right.”

“I’m with you, commander!” said Gor, slapping his fist on his chest.

“You want to capture a mine?” grinned Lyra bloodthirstily. “Let’s do it! Little Bald?”

“Meow!” agreed the dracat. Although he could just as easily have been saying, “Take my pants off, I wanna lick my balls,” as agreeing that the Celestial Clan was having things a little too easy. I didn’t feel any fear about declaring war on a great clan. They were planning to kill us, so this seemed like a rational and proportionate answer.

“Right… Gor, run home and get Carl and Bellatrice over here. Actually, grab Shuranid too. Let them all have a look at the construction site, equip the locals with tools, and open up a forge here. Lyra, go around the collectors one more time and make sure that all of them are healthy. If you need to, use Healing. Don’t worry about the silirium. Little Bald, I don’t like all the remains that are lying around the town. Burn the bodies and scatter the ashes. Gurit, you already know what to do. Alright, everybody get to work!”

“So, what are you going to do?” asked Lyra.

“What a commander should be doing,” I said meaningfully. “Thinking about how to bring this world to its knees!”

* * *

Mirgrad

Central Base of the Celestial Clan

Mirelle was sitting at her desk, staring into space. The System notification that had just appeared before her eyes had completely thrown her.

The Angels of Death clan has terminated its contract of vassalage. Termination penalty: 30,000 silirium. You may pay the penalty to the Angels of Death in any way convenient for you. Payment schedule: 48 hours

Mirelle read the notification several times, trying to decipher the secret message from the local System. She knew that a wave had been sent against the Angels of Death — the System had notified her a few hours before the wave began. However, rather than rushing to the clan’s aid, Mirelle had chosen to abandon them to destruction. The tribute they paid was pathetic, and she had no other use for them. She’d already got her own hands on everything that was valuable in that area — the massive ore mine was bringing the clan an excellent profit. She didn’t have time to worry about useless clans. The founder of the clan had taken a risk and lost. It was his fault that he couldn’t defend his people.

But the Angels of Death had survived. How? It didn’t make sense. And not only had they survived, they’d terminated their contract. The rules of this world said they were the ones who should be paying a penalty for that, but the local System had decided to try something different. She’d put the debt on the Celestial Clan. That was ridiculous! Unbelievable!

For the attention of clan heads!

The Selected group has gained the status of a great group. You can enter contracts of vassalage with them without any penalties from your current sovereign clan. This offer is time-limited. Time to decide: 30 days.

“Madam?” said her assistant, responding to her bell.

“The Angels of Death are based in the town of Khrythm. Send our liquidators over there. I don’t want a single trace of that clan left. Those losers didn’t like the way I ruled over them? Then they can die! And pass my decision on to the heads of all our clans. Everybody needs to know what awaits them if they dare to take up the local System’s offer!”

The assistant left, and Mirelle pressed the three summons buttons. She needed to talk to the heads of the other great clans. Answers came almost immediately, and the meeting was confirmed. They all had something to discuss, even Crab. Nobody wanted to lose their vassals. That meant there was only one future for the Selected — death. It was time to join forces.

Chapter 22

MORE POWER MEANS more responsibility. That was what my old man always used to tell me when I was sitting on his knee. There was more to his lesson too — in order to taken on responsibility, you had to already have power. When I was little, I didn’t really understand what he was on about. I thought those two ideas contradicted each other. Wasn’t it like the popular philosophical dilemma of the chicken and the egg?

However, as I got older, I began to understand my old man’s wisdom. Power and responsibility went hand in hand, and if you did everything right, then they were like paired rock climbers, pulling each other up over a difficult section of rockface. That was how it had to be. And the world that I’d now found myself in was like the perfect illustration of all my father’s words of wisdom.

Dad, if you’re listening somewhere, thank you for the lessons. They definitely didn’t go to waste. The proof of that could be seen right now straight in front of me — fifty collectors that didn’t look like bums anymore and, more importantly, had a spark of hope and expectation in their eyes. Their hope was for a better future, and their expectation was that their days of misery were finally over.

The crocodile… I mean Gena… I mean Gurit, turned out to be a really valuable acquisition. If at first, I had thought of assigning a leveled-up gnome here to keep watch over my domain, then now… Well, actually, I was still going to send a gnome here, because the gnomes were unconditionally loyal to me, whereas the collectors’ loyalty had conditions on it. However, it looked like the Angels of Death would be more than dumb puppets, capable only of collecting silirium and paying me my share. The guys had proved themselves in battle, some better, some worse.

Even in the heart of the fight, I should note, I’d been able to work out who was doing what. There had been no obvious cowards who dropped their arms and ran, but a few of the collectors were very close to fainting clean away. Still, the System had done its version of natural selection before I came along, killing off the collectors who couldn’t fight back. The ones who’d survived all had abilities of some kind or other. So, I took them all on without the need for an interview.

And I gave away the orc armor that we’d collected from the dead without any uncertainty. No, that’s not true, I did have doubts. That was that goddamn responsibility that had been thrust upon me. I realized that with my fast-firing dracat, multi-skilled Lyra, Gor and me, we were very capable of draining our silirium supplies, and with our new vassals, it would be easy as pie. Basically, my fearful inner hamster and my tightfisted inner toad were apparently destined to fight eternally. But, in case you get the wrong idea, they’d also both be fighting against marvelous me and my legendary generosity. Somehow, I’d keep it together.

It was interesting to see how the collectors formed a line for the settlement’s central stone. They didn’t have a Grumbler, so in order to have their gear adapted and exchanged for the right size, they couldn’t just whisper their wishes to the wind. They had to find a System access point, which is what the settlement’s stone was.

Talking of gear, the Champion did have two Uncommon items and one Epic. The Epic item, bless it, was precisely those bracers that, according to Grumbler, were just what we needed. They went, naturally enough, to our frontline fighter Lyra. They made the elf girl even more powerful than the rest us, but who was complaining about that? Grumbler helped out with the item’s properties, and in the end, I was a little less afraid that Lyra could fall victim to some hideous shit. Although it looked very much like Grumbler had partially given in to the elf girl. Otherwise, how could you explain these results:

Beautiful Ogre Bracers

Additional property: Attractiveness Doubled

Additional property: Physical Damage Energy Shield

Additional property: Magic Damage Energy Shield

Additional property: Tenacity (increased chance to resist damage when opponent uses knockdown/stun skills)

In the end, the members of the Angels of Death looked a whole lot more respectable. Although there was one thing I’d forgotten: they’d changed their clothes, but they hadn’t bothered to wash, and they still stank to high heaven.

“Right, Gena,” I began heartily, and the crocodile looked at me dumbfounded. Damn, I’d done it again. “Look, no offense, but in the world I’m from there’s a really popular crocodile character called Gena. He’s smart, kind, handsome and, most important of all, strong. Oh, and he also always looks out for his own people. Basically, he’s one of the really good guys. Obviously, I’m not taking your name away from you, but how about you accept this as a nickname that demonstrates my great respect for you?”

“Hmm,” said the crocodile. He thought for a while, then nodded: “As you wish, sire.”

“You mean, I haven’t convinced you, and you want me to order you to accept it? I could do that, sure, but I don’t want to, so I’ll stick with your old name.”

“No, no, forgive me, my lord,” grinned the crocodile. At least, I’m fairly sure he was grinning, although it looked pretty bloodthirsty. “It would be an honor for me to become a hero of your world.”

Then something strange happened. The inscription above his head flickered away, then returned:

Gurit-Gena Doronak Roche

Imeritian, Level 7

Head of the Angels of Death Clan

Vassal of the Selected Great Group

“Oops,” I said. “I guess renaming is possible after all.”

“That’s the first I’ve heard of it,” said the crocodile leader, dumbfounded again.

“Grumbler?” I called over my shoulder.

“What have I got to do with it?” she grumbled. “Ask the local System. We all know she does whatever she wants to. This is just one more proof that for some reason she really likes you, Max.”

“Ha, alright. Now, what did I want to say? Oh, right. Gena, you’re a reptile, aren’t you? You should love the water. Although,” I said, taking a step toward him, “you don’t seem to smell bad. But some of your men absolutely do. So, before you start doing anything else, chase them all down to the river there and get them to wash.”

“Some of my clanmates aren’t very fond of washing, and some of them are terrified of water.”

“Well, that really doesn’t bother me. Whoever doesn’t wash,” I thought for a second, then smiled broadly and turned to the other collectors. “Whoever doesn’t wash and goes on stinking will be kicked out of the clan for failure to observe sanitary regulations and causing the discomfort of their comrades. Is that understood?”

Murmurs of assent could be heard from most of the collectors, but a couple of particularly furry individuals looked at me with undisguised horror.

“Whoever can’t swim or doesn’t feel they’re able to step in the water will be helped by their comrades and thoroughly laundered. Grumbler,” I said, holding out my hand, into which quickly appeared a gallon bottle of 5-in-1 Washing Liquid which, according to the label, was “great for washing hair, fur, skin, hooves and scales.” A useful item, and all for just a hundred silirium — it had everyone covered.

Judging by the way the two furballs were grabbed under the arms by their more senior comrades and dragged away, and by the way Gena took the bottle of liquid from me with a grin, everyone was going down to the river. I came to the conclusion that the whole place was soon going to smell a lot sweeter. Well, at least once the smoke from the burning corpses had cleared. I guess I hadn’t really thought about the stink that would make, but never mind.

Little Bald still hadn’t actually finished. He was swooping around over the village, having fun. Here and there, explosions and the roar of flames could be heard. Our little pet had even managed to dry out the mud so, although there was still plenty of work for the locals to be getting on with, they were going to have an easier time of it. On the other hand, my temporary observers would be here soon. They were all big fans of comfort and order, so there was no chance the collectors would be slacking off any time soon.

And here they were. Straight out of the portal stone came a frowning Bellatrice, Shuranid, smiling and cheerful as ever, and a very businesslike Carl. As the latter didn’t have an inventory to store stuff in, he was accompanied by ten other gnome craftsmen, who were carrying all sorts of tools and ingredients.

“I didn’t think anyone could live worse than goblins,” said Bellatrice, her frown deepening as she examined her surroundings, “but it turns out collectors are even greater slobs.”

“That’s not fair, Bellatrice,” said Shuranid, stretching his neck to get a better view. Considering his immense height, that wasn’t difficult. “I can tell that there was a battle here recently and I can tell it went on for a long time, so actually it’s a miracle that there’s anything left standing at all.”

“So, where on earth do you think I’ll be able to set up shop here?” said Carl, grumpy that I’d dragged him away from the warm breast of Martha, and only willing to come here at all on the condition that he could train a replacement, set up a forge, and then head home.

I didn’t really have any problem with that. Carl was a valuable member of our team, and it was best if he stayed in the dungeon. Plus, it was cozier there, and it was our main base, after all. It seemed pretty clear that one of Carl’s assistants would eventually become the village’s smith, but that was a concern for the future.

“Basically, work it all out for yourselves, I’m going to take a little walk. Or rather, we are,” I said, nodding to my group.

“Going far?” asked Bellatrice pissily.

I couldn’t help but smile. Both she and Grumbler periodically reminded me of my ex.

“Well, I decided to go get a bit more silirium. You can’t have too much silirium, now, can you?”

“That’s true,” answered the goblin grudgingly. “More silirium is always good. Alright, I suppose I can manage. However,” she added, looking meaningfully at me, “I will need some resources. Without them, there’s nothing I can do. And I suspect Shuranid will need some too.”

“I agree,” nodded the ogre. “Not much, but there are a few things I’ll definitely need.”

“Oh, so you want to me to give you even more money?” I said to Bellatrice, trying hard not to laugh — this was almost word-for-word a conversation with my ex.

“What’s money got to do with it? I need silirium,” said the goblin, frowning again.

“Me too,” said Carl, who’d just popped up beside her.

“What the fuck?” I said. “What about the silirium assigned for development of the Dungeon? Can’t you take some from there?”

“No, we can’t,” said the ever-reasonable Shuranid, shaking his head. “Martha controls that, and it all goes exclusively on the needs of the Dungeon.”

“That’s some bullshit. Grumbler, what should I do?”

“Well, obviously, you should give each of your specialists an allowance.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, if you’d asked me that earlier, you’d have known already.”

“Goddammit, Grumbler, getting advice out of you is like trying to make bullets out of shit,” I said vehemently and, paying no more attention to her muttering, I opened up the menu of my Dungeon.

“Right, what have we got here?” I said, jabbing at the icons and discovering that you could unlock a slider next to each specialist.

After thinking for a while, I decided not to touch our hard-earned 50% and instead to take 15% from the Dungeon and split it evenly between the three of them. I got the impression that somewhere far away in our Dungeon, I could hear the wails of a greedy matriarch, but she’d just have to lump it. It was me who was risking my ass, after all, and running out of silirium was a terrifying thought. The small addition to our hourly revenue had proved very timely.

Dungeon of the Selected

(Property of the Selected group of collectors)

Status: Main settlement

Appointed leader: Matriarch Martha (Level 4)

Level: 4

Population: 408/4000

Silirium revenue: 408(816) per hour

Resident specialists:

Blacksmith Carl (Level 3) — Allowance: 40 silirium per hour

Engineer Bellatrice (Level 11) — Allowance: 40 silirium per hour

Alchemist Shuranid (Level 11) — Allowance: 40 silirium per hour

“It’s yours to spend,” I told the two angry and one eternally positive faces. I think they were hoping for more, but there wasn’t going to be any haggling in this case. I was the lord and I was in charge.

“As I say, sort it out among yourselves, we’re off to find adventure,” I said, striding off toward the waystone and chatting to Grumbler as I went. “Listen, our car won’t fit through the portal. How can I get it here?”

“Why, that’s easy. You just use the cargo delivery option.”

“Well, you learn something new every day. But why are you so inert all the time? Getting information out of you is like getting blood from a stone.”

“Well, I don’t know what information you’ll need in the immediate future. You asked, and I answered. I can keep burdening you down with new knowledge all the time if you prefer. For example, did you know that there are twenty-four different species of monster in the area of this settlement, and only two of them can be classed as humanoid. Furthermore…”

“Alright, enough already. I get the idea. I’ll ask in future.”

I nodded to Gor and Lyra, then stepped through the portal, running headfirst into the raging fury of Martha.

“Max, how could you? You’re robbing me and my people! My future children will have nothing to eat!”

“Right, just shut up! Turn the volume down,” I shouted. “First of all, I’m not Max to you, I’m ‘my lord’. Second, when are your future children going to be born? In nine months?”

“Why nine months?” frowned Martha, slapping her ample belly. “The first batch will be here in three days.”

“Is that right? The first batch in three days… Huh, and how many batches will there be?”

“Well, that depends on how much effort Carl makes,” said the matriarch, suddenly grinning and fluttering her sparse eyelashes. “Or perhaps somebody would like to see a new species. How about a gnome-human hybrid?”

“Fuck that!” I spluttered, and shot out of the Dungeon to where our car was parked.

“Max! I mean, my lord, where are you going? What about restoring our funding in full, and maybe even adding a bit?”

“All in good time, Martha. All in good time,” I shouted, as I started the car with shaking hands. “That’s exactly what I’m off to sort out. All the silirium you can eat! Anything to make sure I don’t have to see any half-human half-gnomes.”

Everything with the waystone proved simple. The Cargo Transportation option weighed outsize cargo and calculated the toll at one unit of silirium per two pounds of weight. The process cost me nine hundred and sixteen silirium, but it was worth it for the relief of knowing that there would once again be a hundred and fifty miles of virgin territory between me and Martha.

However, just before I drove the car through the portal, I suddenly noticed that Martha had reached Level 4.

I slammed on the brakes. God knows I didn’t want to spend a second longer than necessary in the company of the overexcited hunk of meat, but something stopped me. We were about to head off on a dangerous raid, and I’d almost forgotten to do something.

“You got a new level, right?” I said, jabbing toward the space above her head.

“I did.”

“Well, where’s our reward?”

“But Max, you see...”

“My lord,” I interrupted her.

“My lord, sorry. You see, our treasury is practically empty.”

“Hand over the final item in the elven set fast!” I shouted, adopting that same commanding voice that my old man had taught me.

Martha jumped and ran off quickly. I was tapping my foot in impatience and I didn’t turn off the engine, even though it still consumed silirium just idling there. I didn’t want to stay there a second longer than necessary, and when Martha brought out the final item in the set — a “Heavenly Elven Belt” — I immediately roared off into the sunset. Well, actually, the portal.

“Commander,” said Gor with concern, meeting me at the exit, “I think we need to swap. My driving skills are better.”

“You don’t even have a license,” I muttered, but immediately slipped out of the driving seat, not least because it was by far the biggest, designed for the char-ra’s bulk.

“I already told you, I don’t know what that is, but it doesn’t stop me from driving better than you.”

“You’re right,” I said, realizing I’d forgotten something. I saw Shuranid stolling nearby and shouted his name.

“Yes, my lord?”

Then I looked at Bellatrice and realized that I didn’t want any trouble.

“Bellatrice, you’re in charge while I’m gone.”

“You made the right choice,” said the goblin, grinning.

Trouble or not, I realized that she was right. Everything would be running like very fast clockwork with her in charge.

We all piled into our car and set off to seek out adventure.

* * *

I, and in fact all of us, felt the full joy of being high-level collectors. And more importantly, very well-equipped high-level collectors. Considering the way this world worked and the fact that the monsters on the surface maxed out at Level 5, a collector’s life from Level 6 onward was pleasant and even fun. Yes, there were anomalies, such as our panther, or that strange Level 6 goblin village, but there were only a handful of them to worry about.

But that was where I saw the gap in the local System’s logic. Once you reached Level 5, if you didn’t feel like risking your ass in Dungeons, you could happily grind monsters on the surface and take your further development nice and slow. Sure, that didn’t allow you to reach Level 10 and move on, but what was waiting for you in the next world? Lots of people, or rather lots of intelligent beings, didn’t want to perform great feats. They were content with a normal life in normal circumstances. So, I suspected that the vast majority of collectors stopped at Level 5 and lived in peace. And, if they managed to get in with the strongest clans… Well, then life was better still.

Although, I certainly had some doubts about that. I had a fair idea of what the leaders of the great clans were like. They wouldn’t let their collectors just exist and enjoy the peace of Level 5. After all, nobody had canceled the arms race, the death of raid groups and, most importantly, the transition of high-ranking collectors to the next world. I guessed there was plenty of cannon fodder, after all. Well, people had to learn something while they were here.

Using the speed of our fantastic car, we were able to avoid most encounters with monsters. The particularly curious were dealt with by Little Bald, and I was obliged to take a shot or two as well. We avoided forests and cliffs so that we wouldn’t have to slow down too much. Fortunately, most of the area was open plain, and we raced like the wind most of the way to our point of destination — the strange ore mine near the place called Eagle Peak. We had almost arrived at the little woods where I was planning to stop and get ready, when out of nowhere, an arrow with brightly colored feathers on it struck me in the left shoulder.

“Shit!!” I roared. “Gor, hit the brakes, we’re getting out!”

I followed my words with action. Using the lack of doors on our car, I simply dropped out of the right side of the car onto the ground, grabbing Lyra with me. We rolled across the earth, but there was one thing I’d forgotten — the arrow sticking out of my shoulder, which sank even further into my shoulder as soon as it came into contact with the ground. Gor did a masterful job, neatly skidding to a halt with the car side-on to the direction the arrow had flown from. He then jumped down and crouched behind it for cover.

“Little Bald!” I shouted when I’d finally stopped rolling. “Find that bastard and get rid of him!”

“Meow!” cried the dracat fiercely and flew off in the right direction.

A second later, there were fireballs flying from his jaw, right at the edge of that woods. Then something entirely unexpected happened: an arrow whistled up, and with a loud shriek Little Bald when spinning down to the ground.

“Shit!” I roared again, this time more in anger than in pain. A generous shot of adrenalin was pumping through me and, without thinking, I pulled the arrow out of my shoulder. Yes, of course I knew that wasn’t the right thing to pull out an arrow — you were supposed to break off the feathers and push it forward, but I didn’t give a shit. The pain was strong but not long-lasting.

“Lyra, Healing!” I shouted, “Ahead! They’ve shot Little Bald!”

These were the bonds forged in battle — the dracat had become a full-fledged member of our team. A much-loved member, despite his terrible character. I saw the same righteous fury in my comrades’ eyes that I could feel burning in mine. We raced to the treeline, ready to exact brutal vengeance.

Zing! Bam!

Another arrow with the already-familiar feathers was sticking out of Lyra’s shield. It was a pity Little Bald hadn’t had one of those.

“Get behind me!” shouted the elf girl, speeding up.

There was only one small problem with that. While I could, crouching down a little, hide behind the slender elf girl, Gor had no chance at all. He quickly realized this, but on the other hand he was my trainee assassin, so in the blink of an eye he vanished. Just in time, too, as the next arrow flew right to the spot where he’d just been standing. Without slowing, we continued to advance on the treeline.

Basically, Little Bald had done a great job. In between the trees lay two charred corpses, each of which had the inscription:

<name no longer active>, collector

Level: 5

Dead

Suddenly, my heart sank. I’d never had to kill a person in my past life. Sure, these two weren’t actually human, but they were intelligent beings, and that meant that our fight in this world had reached a new stage.

“Goddam bastards! We’re fighting other collectors now, and these dumb bastards started it! They shot Little Bald, the sons of bitches!” So saying, I relit the flame of hate inside me and hurried forward.

There was a rustling sound from my left, and a dead body came crashing through the bushes. It was a slightly charred Level 6 collector who, apparently, had survived his encounter with Little Bald but not with Gor — his throat was slit from ear to ear.

From my right, the bushes rustled again and, with a fearsome roar, two more singed melee fighters came dashing out. They were both Level 6 too. Each had a shield and sword of Common rank. And, what was interesting, the living collectors had a note of their affiliation under their name — the Celestial Clan!

The first was met by Lyra with her shield. Our superbly equipped Level 7 against a half-naked Level 6 — the hostile collector had no chance. He flew prettily up in the air, and by the time he reached the ground he was no longer among the living, because I was also learning on the job, and I shot him mid-flight.

The second, deciding that I was the easier prey, also made a fatal error, as Lyra managed to swing her sword, first slicing the tendons in his legs and then pinning him to the ground. In the elf girl’s eyes, I saw only hatred and the thrill of battle. Gor appeared nearby, sniffing the air as if anticipating his next victim. It looked as if, out of the three of us, I was the only one experiencing doubts about what we were doing.

“Where’s the archer?” I shouted, when I realized that none of the corpses had a bow.

“He’s over there!” said Grumbler, who had been with us all the time, it turned out, and appeared to have been infected with our bloodlust.

A red dot was running through the forest as fast as its legs could carry it. Whoever that archer was, they’d apparently decided they didn’t want anything more to do with us.

“Take the bastard alive!” I commanded, waving my crossbow in front of me. “Let’s go!”

And off we went. Predictably, Gor and Lyra broke away from me. The elf girl appeared to have some elven bonus for forest walking, and Gor had really leveled up his speed. He was an assassin, after all. I ran behind them, panting, and by the time I caught up, everything was over.

The blue-skinned, big-eared creature with a single curl of hair and jutting fangs was, despite the situation, smiling happily. And his situation really didn’t look so great, as he was pinned to the ground like a butterfly with Lyra’s sword through his shoulder, while Gor was standing on his chest.

G’Kharn, collector

Troll, Level 7

Member of the Celestial Clan

“What are you smiling about, you blue-skinned asshole?” I asked, giving him a fierce look.

“There’s nothing you can do, you stupid fuck,” he laughed. “I know who you are, they’re looking for you, and I’m gonna get a reward.”

“You? You’re going to die, asshole.”

The blue-faced bastard kept laughing: “I’m a valued scout in the clan. If you didn’t know, there are such things as resurrection scrolls.”

“Resurrection scrolls? Well, I could do with a few more. Where are you hiding these resurrection scrolls, then?”

I started going through his pockets, but the weird thing was that I couldn’t remove his jacket or his belt. It was if everything was welded onto him. Furthermore, I couldn’t see a resurrection scroll anywhere. For the first time, the troll’s face registered surprise.

“Wait, are you an idiot? Didn’t you know that you can’t take a resurrection scroll off somebody?”

I kept quiet, as I didn’t want to look dumber than I really was, although my mistake was obvious.

“Go on, kill me quick, you dumb fuck. I’ll be back by the waystone and I’ll tell the chief that you’re here. They’ll send a group of liquidators, and that’ll be the end of you. That’s when I’ll get my reward!”

“Who’s the dumb fuck now?” I asked, and the troll looked at me dumbfounded. “Considering what you just said, do you really think I’m going to kill you?”

“What choice have you got, moron?”

“What choice? Grumbler, let’s pick something interesting out in the store. Maybe some shackles, for example, so that we can offer this idiot our hospitality for a while… I’ve got a choice that the external System is really going to love…”

Chapter 23

“MAX, WHAT’S THIS STRANGE FETISH of yours? Is there something I don’t know about you? I mean, I’m not against a little bondage, we can definitely try that, but…”

Lyra fell silent and turned her eyes to our prisoner. Grumbler had done her best and, as well as some strong handcuffs capable of holding even a Level 9 creature, she’d provided us with rope too. We bound G’Kharn so thoroughly that he looked a bit like a chrysalis. The member of the Celestial Clan just found this funny — he managed to tell us everything he thought about our mental degeneration. The poor guy didn’t have a clue what we had planned for him. Actually, neither did my group. Lyra and Gor followed my orders and threw the prisoner into the trunk without protest, but they did have questions as to what was going on.

“I don’t like this collector,” I explained. “I don’t want him to stay in our world. We can’t kill him because the resurrection scroll will bring the asshole back. We can’t untie him because his transportation scroll will take him home. So, I’m making sure that Mr. G’Kharn leaves the world of Vilion as a hero. There’ll be no violence, we’ll just do what we have to.”

Lyra frowned, trying to catch the meaning of my words. The Celestial Clan was silent too. At the very least, he’d stopped insulting us and had listened carefully to every word I said. But I wasn’t planning on explaining any more. I’d said all I wanted to. Let them work it out for themselves.

Gor confidently guided the car in the direction of the mine. Originally, I’d planned to scout everything and then act, but our unwanted encounter with the Celestial Clan squad had smashed all my plans to pieces. Scouting is good when you don’t know if you’re going to win, but we did know, so who needed scouting?

“Little Bald, don’t let anyone get to the waystone,” I said, just as our car came flying at full speed out of the forest into empty space. The Celestial Clan had taken great care protecting their property. Not only had they put up a high fence around the place, they’d also cleared the entire area around it, so that there was nothing to get in the way of their lookouts. It appeared they’d built a whole new town, as well-made houses were visible behind the walls. The gates were closed, but that didn’t bother us — of the four lunatics going up against the Celestial Clan, three knew how to fly, so walls weren’t an obstacle to them. And I knew how to think, which was just as good as flying in this case.

“Right, guys, try not to kill anyone. Especially anyone who’s Level 5. Lyra, activate all your auras. If someone really puts up a fight, we knock them out and tie them up. Grumbler, can we store our car in the inventory?”

“What?” said the flying ball, confused.

“The car, can we hide it in the inventory? It’s a single item, right? So it’ll take up one cell. You said that size doesn’t matter, but for some reason I forgot.”

“Max… I don’t know,” answered Grumbler honestly. “We’d need to try first.”

“We’ll try right now.”

We were noticed. Shouts came from the watchtowers telling us to stop. Gor began to laugh. There was a hint of insanity in the sound. Apparently, his inner berserker had been awoken too, except that his was a stealthy, assassin-like berserker. Lyra grinned bloodthirstily, but even that didn’t ruin her beauty. Her deadly beauty… Little Bald had stopped messing around with his pants, and I noticed that the dracat had a healing plaster in his paws. Good boy! Now, if anybody shot him, Little Bald would be able to heal himself, without waiting for Lyra. Experience is a valuable thing.

An arrow slammed into the ground in front of the car, unambiguously telling us that it was time to stop.

“Hit the brakes, and let’s go!” I shouted. Gor stopped the car and vanished, appearing again behind the unfortunate archer on the watchtower. Our scout’s new ability really was excellent. Lyra flew after him, targeting the watchtower with her shield, while I tossed our prisoner out of the car, then held out my hand toward it, activating our inventory.

“Oof,” grunted Grumbler with effort. The car flickered a few times, but the storage mechanism worked perfectly — our vehicle vanished and now took up exactly one cell in the inventory. Great! Now we wouldn’t have to spend a shitload of silirium to drag our car from place to another. And it would be a lot harder to steal it too.

Gor and Lyra jumped down from the wall, and a wild party began in the town. I couldn’t see what was going on, but there was nothing good for the Celestial Clan in the cries of pain I could hear. Little Bald was spending silirium like there was no tomorrow — my pet had turned into a natural flamethrower, setting fire to everyone and everything around him. Our enemies weren’t willing to be expendable NPCs, so the dracat pulled small Healing Plasters out of the inventory with surprising regularity. I even wondered how exactly the process worked. He’d really have to twist his paws to stick the plaster on himself. Of course, Little Bald was quite the acrobat, but some things must be tricky even for him.

Suddenly, the gate that was blocking my path shattered like glass, and a jagged hole appeared in it.

“Taking a break, commander?” shouted Lyra cheerfully. She didn’t seem to like the fact that I was playing an active part in the battle and, unable to find a better use for her skill, she’d applied Shield Strike to the gate. However solid it had been, it was unable to resist the full force of a nominally Level 7 collector’s rampage. Turning, Lyra gave a wild cry and flew off somewhere back into the town, leaving me along with the hole.

There was nobody left on the walls, so I hoisted our prisoner onto my shoulders and went to the gate. The hole was large, but it still took some effort to squeeze through, as it wasn’t quite high enough for me and my captive. Leaving the prisoner by the gate, I pulled out my crossbow and looked around, hunting for targets. Except there weren’t any targets left for me — Lyra and Gor had already dealt with all the remaining collectors. The mine was a standard pit in the ground, just like our gemstone mine in the goblin village — the local System hadn’t expended her creative talents here. The difference was that this pit had nine levels, and they were all already explored — there was no mist hiding anything.

All around, there were bodies suffering from their encounter with our group. Amazingly enough, neither Lyra nor Gor had killed anyone. They’d sliced them, mutilated them, and beaten them to within an inch of their lives, but they hadn’t killed anyone. My orders had been clear and simple. As for Little Bald, well, he’d had different orders, but he’d also followed them to the letter — nobody had reached the waystone. The fact that there were a dozen charred corpses lying around it was just a side effect. But how many bodies weren’t lying there? By which I meant that anyone who had a resurrection scroll wasn’t going to be lying there, they were going to be running right now to the head of the clan and informing them of the terrible crimes committed by the Selected. Or perhaps they weren’t, but I no longer had faith in the best outcomes.

Lyra and Gor began to tie up our prisoners, while I went over to the waystone. I laid my hand on it and called Grumbler over:

“We need to block the portal. We don’t want anyone turning up here.”

“Alright,” said the flying ball. “Wait, Max, this isn’t a normal waystone. This could be hard.”

“What’s unusual about it? It looks like all the others.”

“It’s local. It doesn’t appear in the general network. The stone is set to one other waystone. I can’t just reset it, I need to attach it to a new stone. It’s quite clever, actually, and I’ve only just received the information that it’s possible to do that. This waystone can’t produce resurrection scrolls, but on the other hand, nobody can just teleport here.”

“What do we need to do to attach it to a new stone?”

“We need the number of our waystone, and there are some procedures we need to go through. As I say, it’s not that simple.”

“Our number and some procedures? Is that it?” I’d got used to solving problems fast, not kicking them into the long grass.

“Yes. We need to make our waystone the “parent” and this one its “child”. Then the only access will be from our Dungeon. It’s not the most convenient solution, I agree, but there’s no other way of blocking access. This has all been very carefully thought out.”

“Alright… But now, Grumbler, here’s my most important question: if we split up, who do you stay with? Do you come with me, or does each of us have their own version of you?”

“What a silly question! You can use your inventory when you’re far away from each other. That means that I’m always with each of you. It’s basic.”

“Basic?” I took my hand off the waystone. “Tell me, my dear echo of the external System, do you mean that you can communicate with each of us, even when we’re far away from each other?”

“Were you dropped on your head as a baby? I said in the most simple words, yes, I can. It’s my most basic function.”

“Well then, why the hell did you insist that there’s no long-distance communication device in this world?” I shouted, attracting everyone’s attention, or specifically Lyra and Gor’s attention. The other collectors were in no condition to pay attention to somebody shouting.

“What are you talking about?”

“I need communication within our group. If we’re separated, we won’t have shout to be able to hear each other. We can use you just the way we did to talk to the local System.”

“Oh… Listen, Max, you’re right! That’s cheating!”

“Your whole existence is cheating! I’m going back to our Dungeon now. Can the part of you that stays here sort out the waystone settings?”

“Of course! Max, why didn’t I think of that myself? You have a transportation scroll! Go on, off you go, and I’ll get this fixed.”

It was interesting — if I hadn’t asked, would Grumbler have worked out for herself that she could transmit information? Or was that a limitation of the System? That if the collectors can’t work it out for themselves, they won’t get the information? Ah, who cares? The main thing is the result.

It took five minutes for Grumbler to reconfigure the waystone. Judging by what Lyra and Gor told me via Grumbler, the Celestial Clan had so far not responded in any way to our actions. When the reconfiguration was complete, I put my hand on the waystone and saw a new category — next to the general list of locations, there was a new line:

Eagle Peak Major Silirium Mine

9 Floors

Martha spent all that time beside me. Apparently, the idea of making half-gnome half-human kids was still on her mind. For now, that worked in my favor.

“Martha, I need a responsible gnome.”

“You already took Carl away! I don’t have anyone more responsible than him.”

“Leave Carl out of it, I need someone new. Someone who can manage silirium collection. We’ve got a new mine.”

“Oh!” The matriarch was wide-eyed. “My lord, that’s wonderful! Send Carl there. He’ll definitely cope with the responsibility.”

“Are you sure? What if he has to stay there? Who’ll make me new gnomes?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Martha, waving her hand. “I’ll find someone new. Steve’s still pining after me. You haven’t found him anyone yet, have you? Well, I’ll call him in and have a chat. If all else fails, I’ve got you, my lord.”

“Don’t count on me!” I said, and I think I even turned pale at the thought.

“How big is the mine?” asked one of the gnome instructors from the capital.

“It’s big — nine explored levels.”

“And you need a manager to ensure it all keeps operating smoothly, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Summon Carl, and we’ll have a word with him,” said the gnome, which was disappointing to hear. I’d already started wondering if he was planning to come over to my side or give me some other smart gnome from the capital. It hadn’t occurred to me that he’d just want to send Carl. Wait a second, Steve was away at the goblin village, Carl would now be sent off too, did that mean that the mentor from the capital had his eyes on my Martha? I mean, she wasn’t exactly mine, but I didn’t like the way this was going. The high-level gnomes could see that we were doing something interesting and they wanted to get their hands on my Dungeon by winning the heart of the none-too-intelligent Martha. She’d be unlikely to have any objections. No, that wasn’t going to happen — I’d have to sort this out myself, but not right now. Unfortunately, apart from Carl, I didn’t have anyone else to put at the mine straight away, and silirium wasn’t going to collect itself.

“Wait,” I said, selecting the town of Khrythm on the waystone. I was confident Bellatrice had already kicked up a fuss there, so Carl could safely be removed for a while.

Space flickered for an instant. When it came back into focus, I froze, unable to understand what was going on. The waystone in Khrythm had been housed inside a small building that had even withstood the wave of monsters. Now there were only ruins remaining. The same was true for the rest of Khrythm. Judging by the appearance of the members of the Angels of Death, they all been put through a huge meet grinder. Their armor was dented, scorched, and pitted with holes. However, as far as I could tell, all fifty-three of my vassals were still alive. I immediately saw the reason for this — Shuranid was applying a big Healing Plaster to one of the casualties, bringing them back to life.

Casualties… What were they casualties of?!

“Oh, my lord has made an appearance, and look how clean and tidy he is!” Bellatrice muttered through gritted teeth. I turned around and got a shock. My Level 11 engineer had been in the wars too, and she hadn’t come out unscathed. Her glasses were cracked, there were holes in her armor, and she looked generally ruffled. On the ground around here, there were six bodies. I focused on the nearest, examining his description:

Ru Dar Gon, collector

Oristian, Level 9

Member of the Celestial Clan

The other bodies had similar descriptions, with only the names and races different. The level and affiliation to the clan were the same.

“Can you explain what this is all about?”

“This?” said Bellatrice, freely kicking at her captives, who were all unconscious. The Level 11 boss’s debuffs were doing their job. “This, my dear lord, is a group of liquidators from the Celestial Clan! They turned up here and started getting rowdy, smashing up buildings, and killing your vassals. Or rather, trying to kill them! If me and Shuranid hadn’t been here, there would’ve been real trouble. So, you owe me one, my lord! And a big one too — I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved in conflicts between collectors. See, I didn’t even kill them!”

“There’s no point in killing them, they’ve got resurrection scrolls,” I said, trying to assess the situation. Had Mirelle responded just as quickly to us seizing the mine from her? Presumably not, as we’d only just reconfigured the waystone, while the fight here had apparently happened an hour ago.

“I see your brains are actually beginning to function,” muttered Bellatrice angrily. “Anyway, this is your headache now, not mine. After what the liquidators did here, I relinquish my authority over the place. Can you imagine what might’ve happened if the collectors weren’t all in the river when they attacked? It would’ve been a bloodbath here. I’ll be very disappointed, my lord, if you don’t come up with a fitting punishment for these liquidators. They knew full well that none of your vassals had resurrection scrolls.”

“You’re right about that,” I said, looking around. There really was no town left anymore. The fight between the liquidators and the Level 11 bosses had razed everything to the ground. The only things still standing were the waystone and the town’s central stone.

“Gurit, let’s get out of here. There’s no point rebuilding Khrythm.”

“A clan can’t survive without a capital, my lord,” said the crocodile. “We need the central stone.”

“Take it with you and follow me. Your clan will have a new capital! We captured the ore mine from the Celestial Clan, so you can move in there. That way, it’ll be easier to protect you, and there’ll be plenty of work for all of you. Give the order, Gurit. There’s no point grieving over ruins. Carl, I’ve got a special job for you.”

“The mine?” There was a note excitement in Bellatrice’s voice now. “So you managed to capture it? That’s good news. Alright, my lord, I forgive you for now. I want to take a look at this mine and see what it’s good for. But you do need to do something with the liquidators.”

“How long will they be unconscious for?”

“As long as you need,” she assured me. “Shuranid makes an excellent sleeping potion. It takes a couple of months to build up immunity to it, by which time they’ll all have died from lack of food.”

“They won’t have time. Gurit, lend me a few of your men. We need to transfer these bodies to our Dungeon.”

Everyone got to work. The members of the Angels of Death, who had only a few minutes previously thought that everything was lost and their lives were over, perked up considerably. It didn’t take them long to pack up, as the liquidators had destroyed everything. One by one, my vassals disappeared through the waystone, until only Bellatrice and I were left.

I looked meaningfully at the waystone, and the goblin engineer understood what I was thinking:

“You can’t move it in a hurry. Send Gor to me and I’ll teach him how to do it. Can it wait for three days?”

“Yes, it can,” I told her, and returned to the Dungeon, where I was met with the sight of terrified collectors cowering before our panther, who was licking his lips. Our house cat was keeping watch by the portal, and as soon as strangers began to appear, he took an interest in what they were doing. I had to explain that these were now our people, and he didn’t have to eat them. Having rubbed his huge head against each of them, which almost made the collectors poop their pants, our pet panther returned to his cave.

I reset the waystone to the mine and, sending the collectors off to meet Lyra and Gor, I grabbed two of the liquidators and dragged them to the elevator. Did Bellatrice want me to punish the bastards? Of course I would! Now they’d receive the worst punishment I could think of for Level 9 beings.

“So that’s your plan! You know what, my lord? You’re a scary man!” said Bellatrice when I’d dragged the liquidators over to the energy column. The aura of the fragment had a horrible effect on me, but at that moment I was glad of the pain. If it hurt, that meant it was working.

“Killing them just means setting them free. I hope they’ll have fun in the next world.”

I didn’t know how much time it would take to get them to Level 10, but I doubted it would be long, especially next to a source as powerful as my fragment. In any case, I was ready to wait for as long as it took to reach my goal. A day, a week, a month, or even a year — I’d keep the prisoners here for as long as was needed for them to leave the world of Vilion. And that applied not just to the liquidators, but to that bastard who’d taken a shot at Little Bald too. Sure, he was only Level 7, so we’d be hosting him for a little longer than the rest, but that didn’t change anything. G’Kharn would leave this world too. I would keep my word on that.

Once we’d dragged all the liquidators to the column, Bellatrice and I headed to the mine. Shuranid had already taken charge, working out what he could find there that met his requirements.

“Max, you’re needed!” shouted Lyra, calling me over to the mine office, where a happy Carl was sitting with the gnome from the capital. It looked like I was now short one smith — Carl was holding tight to his chair and he clearly wasn’t going anywhere. Gurit-Gena was in there too.

“My lord, if we install our town’s central stone, then the mine will become our property,” the crocodile said directly.

“So, what’s the problem?”

“Our share. I wanted to discuss it straight away. The mine isn’t about taxes, it’s about pure silirium.”

“Thirty-seventy,” I said without thinking. “Thirty for you, seventy for us. There’ll be no tax on your thirty per cent. Does that work for you?”

Judging by the way the crocodile gulped, it certainly did. I’d already realized that I urgently needed a treasure. Neither I nor anyone in my group had much desire to keep track of all these figures.

Space flickered and the round stone disappeared from Gurit’s hands. It probably had a new description now, but I wasn’t interested in such minor details. My vassals’ job was to be an independent asset and bring in revenue. I wasn’t planning on leading them by the hand.

“Bellatrice, keep an eye on what’s going on here. Carl, prepare a report on what’s needed for mining and development. Also, work out with the head of the Angels of Death how you’re going to share authority here. Any questions?”

There weren’t any. Now that the central stone had been installed, the mine was called Khrythm, and the members of the clan went to settle into the houses. There were lots of them around the mine, and at present they were all empty. That was because the owners were all tied up and awaiting their unenviable fate.

“My name is Max and I’m the commander of the great group the Selected,” I shouted to get everyone’s attention. “You are all our prisoners, and I won’t lie to you — your fate isn’t the most pleasant. There are two options you can choose: either we’ll raise you up to Level 10 and send you into the next world, or you can swear a vow of loyalty to the Angels of Death and continue living in Vilion, working for us. We’re not going to make you into slaves, you’ll be employed under good terms. As hired laborers, not slaves. Think carefully about what you want, as there’ll be no going back on your choice.”

We had seized forty-two collectors, which really wasn’t a bad catch. Thirty of them accepted my offer, while twelve — all of them Level 6 — didn’t believe I was being sincere. Or they didn’t believe in my threat. They knew that levelling up was only possible in Dungeons, so they thought I wouldn’t be able to follow through. That was dumb of them. The gnomes marched the prisoners off to our Dungeon, while I had to take part in the clan-changing process. Why? So that the local System registered their oaths and notified our new employees that, if they betrayed us, they would die. And that they were forbidden from joining any other clan. Was that cruel? No, I don’t think so. Well, maybe a little, but that was the way it was.

By the way, I had to pay a little for each of these “contracts” — a hundred silirium for each collector. It was well worth it. I decided to think of it as a notary’s fee.

“What next?” said Lyra, taking me by the arm. Gor came to my side too, and Little Bald couldn’t think of anything better to do than swoop down and sit on my shoulder.

“Next? Next we’re going to Mirgrad. The Celstial Clan attacked our vassals. If we don’t respond, nobody will respect us. Grumbler, summon the local System.”

The flying ball flickered, and a few minutes later all the collectors in the world of Vilion received the following astounding notification:

The great group the Selected is unhappy with the actions of the great clan the Celestial Clan and demands an official apology and reparations for the attempt to destroy the Selected’s vassal clan, the Angels of Death.

The ultimatum must be met in 48 hours. If the conditions are not met, the great group the Selected will declare war on the great clan the Celestial Clan.

I seemed like a great idea to me. But it turned out I wasn’t immune to surprises myself, because a few seconds later, just as my message had been shown to every collector, the local System sent out another notification:

The great clan the Stone-Cold Killers wishes to enter into a contract of vassalage with the great group the Selected and fight on their side in the upcoming conflict.

I couldn’t help but grin. Crab, the leader of the Stone-Cold Killers, was clearly up to something. So what? We could dance together. We were going to war!

The next book of the series!

The Selected (Book 3)

End of Book Two

Thank you for reading The Selected!

If you like our books and want to keep reading, download our FREE Publisher's Catalog, a must-read for any LitRPG fan which lists some of the finest works in the genre:

Tales of Wonder and Adventure: The Best of LitRPG, Fantasy and Sci-Fi (Publisher's Catalog)

MORE BOOKS BY VASILY MAHANENKO:

The Bear Clan

A LitRPG Series

Law of the Jungle

A Wuxia Progression Fantasy Adventure Series

Condemned (Lord Valevsky: Last of the Line)

A Progression Fantasy LitRPG Series

MORE BOOKS BY YURI VINOKUROFF:

The Order of Architects

A Portal Progression Fantasy Series

by Oleg Sapphire & Yuri Vinokuroff

The Hunter’s Code

A Portal Progression Fantasy Series

by Oleg Sapphire & Yuri Vinokuroff

Kill to Live

A LitRPG Progression Fantasy Adventure Series

by George Bor & Yuri Vinokuroff

NEW RELEASES!

Nanomachines

A Progression Fantasy Adventure Series

by Nikolai Novikov

Me and My Demons

A Portal Progression Adventure Fantasy Series

by Oleg Sapphire & Alexey Kovtunov

The Last Paladin

An Action & Adventure Progression Fantasy Series

by Roman Savarovsky

Banned

A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure Series

by Michael Atamanov

The Other Side

A Progression Fantasy Adventure Series

by Rodion Korablev

An Ideal World for a Sociopath

A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure Series

by Oleg Sapphire

The Healer’s Way

A Portal Progression Fantasy Series

by Oleg Sapphire & Alexey Kovtunov

How I Built a Magic Empire

A Portal Progression Fantasy Series

by Konstantin Zubov

The Dark Summoner

A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure Series

by Andrei Tkachev

The Afflicted

A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure Series

by Konstantin Zubov

The One Who Changes the Future

A Dystopian Portal Progression Fantasy Series

by Boris Romanovsky

Kill or Die

A LitRPG Series

by Alex Toxic

The Last Portal Jumper

A LitRPG Progression Fantasy Series

by Konstantin Zubov

The Dark Healer

A Historical Progression Fantasy Series

by Alex Toxic & Nadya Lee

Lord of The System

A LitRPG Progression Fantasy Series

by Alex Toxic & Furious Miki

The Strongest Student

A Portal Progression Action Fantasy Series

by Andrei Tkachev

A Shelter in Spacetime

A LitRPG Apocalypse Series

by Dmitry Dornichev

The Coming of God of Death

A Portal Progression Fantasy Series

by Dmitry Dornichev

The Village

A LitRPG Progression Fantasy Series

by Dmitry Dornichev & Alexey Kovtunov

Living Ice

A Portal Progression Fantasy Series

by Dmitry Sheleg

Ghost in the System

An Apocalypse LitRPG Series

by Alexey Kovtunov

Crossroads of Oblivion

A Portal Progression Fantasy Adventure Series

by Dem Mikhailov

The Goldenblood Heir

A Portal Progression Fantasy Series

by Boris Romanovsky

In order to have new books of the series translated faster, we need your help and support! Please consider leaving a review or spread the word by recommending The Selected to your friends and posting the link on social media. The more people buy the book, the sooner we'll be able to make new translations available.

Thank you!

Want to be the first to know about our latest LitRPG, sci fi and fantasy titles from your favorite authors?

Subscribe to our New Releases newsletter!

Be the first to know about new LitRPG releases!

Visit our

Facebook LitRPG page

to meet new and established LitRPG authors!

Tell us more about yourself and your favorite books, view new book covers and make friends with other LitRPG fans!

More LitRPG news and discussions at fellow LitRPG group

GameLit Society!

Follow the latest LitRPG news on Twitter!

Till next time!

About The Authors

VASILY MAHANENKO is a fantasy and sci fi author and one of the original founding fathers of the new genre of LitRPG - the MMO-based fantasy and sci fi. His debut novel The Way of the Shaman series took literature by storm in 2012.

Vasily dipped into his college-days insider knowledge as a hardcore gamer in order to create a believable world of the virtual-reality MMO game. His bestselling series combines fiction and video games, telling the story of Shaman and his friends stuck in the ruthless reality of Barliona. He used his more than ten years' experience as an ERP implementation project manager to approach his writing in a well-organized manner, working to a strict schedule, a set of deadlines and even a budget. The entire body of Vasily's works to date is available on Amazon now, with new books adding as he comes up with new fantasy worlds and stories.

YURI VINOKUROFF was born in 1976 in Sevastopol. An avid reader from an early age, he was especially fond of fantasy and science fiction. Already back then, he knew he wanted to write books rather than just read them.

But as it often happens, all of his time and energy were consumed by his successful career, his family and his French Bulldog breeding kennel. His professional activities involved designing and constructing power plants and facilities, which couldn’t be further removed from his teenage dream of writing fiction.

Still, Yuri didn’t give up. Eventually, he began writing for Facebook and even created a small challenge for himself, completing 100 posts in 100 days. It was there that he gained his first fans. During the 2020 lockdown, he used the opportunity to enter a major LitRPG competition. Although his novel didn’t win, it still went viral, soon followed by the rest of the series.