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Chapter 158: A Strange Harvest

The ring had disappeared.

Viktor lowered to one knee beside the corpse. He reached out and seized Dimitria’s hand, turning it over as his fingers traced the place where the object should have been. There was indeed nothing there, nothing at all. Not even a mark.

He frowned. How could this have happened? He was certain she had been wearing it just moments before.

He replayed the whole sequence in his mind, recalling every movement, every shift of her posture, every glint of light that had caught his attention during the battle. The ring had always been on her finger, when she commanded the hands of shadow, when those monstrous appendages coiled and struck at her will.

Before that, before the first hand had emerged, however, he didn’t remember seeing it at all. The ring just suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He had thought he might have overlooked it, or she might have retrieved it from wherever she had kept it hidden and put it on without him noticing. But now, with the ring having vanished just as mysteriously as it had materialized, perhaps the phenomenon had something to do with its very own nature.

What was that ring, anyway? He had assumed it was a Reliquary, mostly because he didn’t know any spell that could achieve what he had witnessed. As it turned out, he didn’t know any artifact that behaved this way either.

“Master,” the Ettin’s middle head said as the creature lumbered to his side.

“What’s the matter?”

“Well,” the middle head said with a grin, its fearsome expression shifting into something almost hopeful, almost eager. “We were just wondering... if we’re allowed to eat these pieces of meat.”

Viktor chuckled. Dropping the lifeless hand, he rose to his feet, brushing dust off his knee.

Of course.

Even though his minions were sustained entirely by the dungeon’s mana, requiring neither food nor rest to continue their existence, they still had a desire to indulge in the act of eating and sleeping.

Well, why not?

He had allowed it before. Sebekton had been granted the same privilege, had been permitted to feast upon the enemies he himself defeated. And the Ettin had fought, had bled, and had emerged victorious against these adventurers. Surely, it deserved this small reward. Besides, if he denied its request, these bodies would just be discarded into the dungeon’s disposal pits and left to rot anyway.

No, wait.

The matter of Dimitria had not been fully resolved. She might still have information worth extracting, and that strange ring of hers, whatever it was, had powers he didn’t quite understand. She was already dead, yes, but that little inconvenience wasn’t going to stop him from getting what he wanted.

Khenemhotep claimed the soul left marks behind on the body it had once inhabited, and from those marks, he could learn about the person when they were alive. He had proven as much already. He had discerned plenty about Lahmia and Rhea’s sister from their skeletal remains, so surely he could glean even more from a fresh corpse, right?

“Yes,” Viktor said, “but not this one. I want her brought to Khenemhotep’s place. Both the head and the body. Do it carefully. I don’t want any further damage. As for the other three, you may do as you please.”

“Thank you, Master,” the middle head said at once, its smile widening in satisfaction.

“MEAT!” the right head bellowed, its voice reverberating through the chamber. “I’M GOING TO EAT MEAT!”

“But... that one...” the left head said. “I don’t want to eat him...”

Viktor and the other two heads followed its glance. And they saw the rogue, or rather, what little was left of him after the flames had done their work. Ah yes, this guy no longer qualified as food now.

“THEN WHAT SHOULD WE DO? THERE ARE ONLY TWO PIECES OF MEAT, WHILE THERE ARE THREE OF US!”

“I... I don’t know...”

“What are you talking about?” The middle head laughed as it turned its gaze toward Bella. “Those are two pieces. So we have three.”

“But...” the left head said, looking at the warrior’s bisected body. “Then... these should count as two pieces as well...”

“THEN THERE ARE FOUR PIECES OF MEAT, WHILE THERE ARE ONLY THREE OF US. WHAT SHOULD WE DO?”

Viktor stared at the three heads, speechless. He had no idea why they even bothered arguing. It didn’t matter who ate what, everything still ended up in the same belly anyway. Oh well, whatever. Perhaps it was simply their nature. Three minds were bound to one body, so they were compelled to disagree even over matters that held no real consequence. In any case, it was not his problem. He would just leave them to it.

“Teleport me back to the Core Room, Celeste.”

[Understood, Master.]

In the blink of an eye, the arena, with its bloodstained floor and scorched walls, seemed to fold in upon itself like an illusion being dismissed, and in its place emerged the quiet stillness of the Core Room. Celeste’s crystalline form hovered by his side, pulsing in a soothing rhythm of faint blue luminescence.

[Welcome back, Master. It was a flawless victory. That woman stood no chance against your skill.]

It was, as always, Celeste’s customary praise, delivered in that flat tone of hers that never seemed to fluctuate, regardless of the scale or significance of his achievements. Yet, despite having heard such words many times before, he still found they stirred within him a faint sense of satisfaction.

“It’s really nothing,” Viktor said as the corner of his lips curled. “Anyway, show me the battle report.”

[Understood, Master.]

 

Harvested essence:

- Stephen: 225 pts

- Bella: 260 pts

- Olaf: 180 pts

- Dimitria: 300 pts

The Dungeon Core has accumulated 965 Essence Points.

The harvested essence has been converted into 9,650 mana.

Current mana: 13,950

Casualties:

- Fatalities: 15 Goblins, 13 Dread Spiders, 14 Venom Spiders, 12 Gnolls

- Critical injuries: 8 Goblins, 8 Dread Spiders, 2 Gnolls (recovery expected within 7 days)

- Minor injuries: 5 Goblins, 7 Venom Spiders, 4 Gnolls, 1 Ettin (recovery expected within 3 days)

 

This party had inflicted quite a bit of damage upon his dungeon, killing and maiming dozens of the minions of the first floor. Well, given the strength of the group, with Dimitria at Gold rank and the remaining three no less than Silver, this was to be expected. And, in recompense for the havoc they had wrought, Celeste had harvested nearly a thousand Essence Points from their demise, a fair reward for the effort expended.

Wait.

Viktor froze mid-thought as his gaze settled on Dimitria’s number: a mere three hundred Essence Points.

Wasn’t this a bit too low for a Gold? In fact, her number was barely above her own apprentice’s.

“Do you remember how many points Lahmia’s soul yielded?” Viktor asked.

[Of course, Master. I never forget anything. Her soul has been converted into 375 Essence Points.]

Strange, indeed. Dimitria was in no way inferior to the other pyromancer, yet her soul counted for much less.

Was it because she, a mage, had been killed by him? Or was it something else? Could this have anything to do with that strange power she wielded?

Figuring out whether he was to blame for the discrepancy was simple enough. He could simply select another mage to kill, and see if a similar reduction happened. If he was indeed at fault, then it was fine. But if Dimitria’s soul was the only one that behaved abnormally, then the matter would demand further investigation.

“Celeste,” Viktor said. “Have that woman’s body delivered to Khenemhotep as fast as possible, and tell the priest to examine it thoroughly. I do not want a single detail being overlooked or misinterpreted.”

[Understood, Master.]

Damn those adventurers from Iskora. The more he tried to learn about them, the more enigmatic they became. There were also those hooded men Dimitria had mentioned. They answered directly to Zubayr, lurking somewhere in Daelin and carrying out some sort of secret mission. He needed to find out who they were, what they wanted, and how to stay ahead of them.

Oh well, he was going to think about it later. For now, he would just relax and enjoy the victory, letting the sweet taste of triumph linger, until the next challenge inevitably arose.

“Show me your stats,” Viktor said.

[Yes, Master.]

 

Path of the Dungeon - LV15

Essence Point: 1,074/2,274

Mana: 13,950

Floors: 5/5

Minions: 337/430

Guardians: 2/3

Skills:

- Shape Terrain

- Transmute Gold

- Summon Lesser Minion LV7

- Summon Water Minions LV2

- Summon Earth Minions LV2

- Summon Light Minions LV1

- Summon Greater Minions LV2

- Summon Guardian

- Mutate Lesser Minion LV1

- Bestow Hex LV1

 

Not bad, not bad at all, Viktor thought. After wiping out this party, his Dungeon Core was already halfway toward her next level.

For over a month, Celeste had been funneling every single point she earned straight to him, so that he could reach Level 9 as quick as possible. No need for that anymore, so now she could go back to leveling herself.

And the best part? Even though she had handed him her Essence Points, she got to keep her mana. Thus, after covering the cost of replacing dead minions and preparing rewards for the adventurers, she had racked up nearly ten thousand points.

Of course, there had been expenses as well. Big ones, in fact.

Summoning new Guardians had eaten three thousand. After all, he had to pay for not only Galatea, but also that Var’ghul fellow and the damn succubus. Then there was the explosive production line—second workshop, extra storage, additional gremlins—all with their own costs. And finally, the biggest offender of it all: the Domain of Light on the fourth floor, along with that monstrously gigantic building that Galatea had called a cathedral.

Still, now that everything had been paid for, there was nothing pressing on the horizon. The mana pool would just swell and swell, while he could just sit back and enjoy its steady growth.

Down the road, the major expenditures would come in the form of summoning Guardians and forging Reliquaries. He would get stricter and stricter about who deserved a spot in the dungeon, so future Guardians might not cost a mere three thousand, but potentially tens or even hundreds of thousands of mana. Similarly, the crafting of Reliquaries, as Celeste had told him, involved a degree of randomness in the powers stored within the artifacts, which meant multiple attempts would often be necessary to get exactly what he wanted.

But that was a problem for later. For now, he was swimming in resources with no idea what to do with it.

“Let’s build an arena,” Viktor said. “Outside the Core Room.”

[An arena, Master?]

“Yes. At the same location where I’ve been sparring with Haku. I want it transformed into a proper place for training, dueling, and all other trials of combat. Not just for myself but also for anyone else who might need or wish to use it. And there should be some seating for any spectators who might show up.”

[Understood.]

“Well, if there’s nothing else,” Viktor said, stretching his body as he prepared to depart, “then I’m going home.”

[Yes, Master. Do you come here tomorrow?]

“No.” Viktor chuckled. “Tomorrow, I need to help people plant herbs.”