Castaway core a litrpg f.., p.14
Castaway Core: A LitRPG Fantasy Dungeon, page 14
I was about to return to the False Core Room when a conversation gained my attention. Mostly because it was in a language I could actually comprehend.
Three rangers sat near the entrance to the room, clearly guarding the way deeper into the dungeon.
“Was that really necessary?” One of them asked while leaning on the wall. His green clothing and leather armor looked out of place in my silvery wilderness.
“What do you mean?” The second one asked lazily while checking an arrow after arrow. He meticulously searched for damage, looking over every fletching, shaft, and arrowhead.
“You know. Slaughtering humans.”
“Captain said it was necessary. That’s the only explanation I need.” Answered the arrow guy, while the third, silent ranger only nodded.
“I understand, but what he had done…”
“What we had done.” Interrupted the second ranger.
“What we had done.” The warrior repeated his words while gulping heavily. “What we had done may very well spark the war with the Geinard Kingdom.” He turned his head down, contemplating. “We’re not really in a position to fight on two fronts.”
“Only if one of our compatriots spills the beans.”
“Or if the dungeon manages to send this information outside.” They looked at each other in silence. And then started laughing.
“Hahahahahaha!”
“Haha Haha Haha!”
“Hyaahahaha! G-good one!” The arrow-checking ranger smacked his companion on the back. “It may be a Forgotten Dungeon, but remember that they’re still as stupid as the other ones.” His white teeth were showing for the first time.
“Haaaa…” The first ranger wiped off a tear. “Yes, yes I know. It was just a jest. Still, we will have to make a dash for our lines, no matter the consequences.” His face turned serious. “I’m not sure how many of us will survive such a trip.”
“Yet we can’t have it any other way. The information is just too important.”
“I still can’t believe it.” He knocked on my hallway wall. “It doesn’t look that dangerous.”
“Probably devoured the cache in one of the deeper levels. That’s when the really bizarre stuff starts to appear.”
“Not our problem now.” The silent ranger spoke, surprising them both. “Just do your job and don’t complain.”
“Yes, don’t worry about us!”
“Yup. It was just talk.”
The men stopped talking and I retracted my consciousness.
Now… that was strange. Cache? Forgotten Dungeon? Information? At least now I understood that they were leaving pretty much straight away. Which would leave my entrance empty…
I wasn’t about to let this chance slip by.
But first - let's focus on my new captive.
The team of Lebirs already dragged him onto the slab. I made sure that it was pretty comfortable, as much as stone can be. I even carved small rows for the blood to flow freely. And made chains to keep the patient in place.
Which were being used right now, the clumsy undead fingers trying to fit mage arms and legs in them.
With a grunt, I ordered Lebirs to back down and started to grow the copper “tentacles” from the ceiling. Somehow the Mechanical Core being in vicinity allowed for better precision and soon many instruments of tor-... I mean science hung down awaiting my input.
For now, I used the hand-like parts to cuff the patient. It was probably an unnecessary precaution, but it was better to be safe than sorry. The boy didn’t even grumble, his wide-eyed stare coupled with a blank expression. His face was pale, arms and legs burned by fire, while the flesh had signs of something that looked like… mana corrosion? His veins were turning unhealthy blue and slowly the color was creeping up and up.
Note to self: Don’t use my mana duct tape on living beings.
Second note to self: Also don’t use it on non-dungeon creatures.
No time like the present.
First I needed to figure out how the mana was behaving when being used by a sentient. I already heard him chant, so that was out of the way. But the canals it was using? The point of focus? These were still a secret. Not for long, though.
I attached the wire to his left and right hand. Delicately, delicately. Right, just like that.
Then with a flick of my non-existent finger, I gathered the electrical mana in my core and sent it towards the copper wire network. Precisely just above the Fake Core Room. Then with a great grace... I flushed it down his system.
The patient screamed.
I disregarded that.
What were the patterns? Unlike real electricity, it seemed like mana was circling around his body in a specific way. And disappearing in the middle of his chest, under the cartilage bones.
Once more!
*scream*
The reaction was the same - every bit of energy was being sucked towards the earlier designated point.
I detached the left arm cable. Attached it back to the right leg.
Power on!
He screamed again. This time for longer. Were his pain centers still intact? No matter. Mana corrosion also speeded up. Which was not good. Maybe one or two tries before he expires.
Damn.
It was time to go with a bang.
I detached all cables and decided to use a wire with a spike on the end. A perfect conductor.
I stabbed it into his chest. Not deep, five centimeters at most. The patient only grunted, numbed from earlier pain.
Gathering mana I looked him over one last time.
How was it that I didn’t feel anything?
…
[Fire.] I spoke in my mind.
The mage body convulsed on the stone slab, kept in place only by the chains.
Then, with a gasp he half-sat on it, eyes piercing the ceiling, looking somewhere outside. Somewhere far away.
And then he crumbled back, life leaving his small body.
It was a short, but sweet experiment. Scientific parts had ended. Now it was time for butchery... At least I knew where to begin.
Chapter 22
Uno
The human mage was laying down on the stone bed I prepared earlier. My copper arms worked in unison cutting the flesh, taking out the bones and dissecting the organs.
And under their tireless work, a clear picture appeared.
Firstly - the mages were human. It was an answer that might be taken for granted, but in a fantasy world, it wasn’t so easy to tell. There were races which parasitized the population, adopting similar looks and lifestyle. The vampire I fought before was a perfect example. Thankfully the mage wasn’t one of these beings. And yet there was something completely different when comparing him to the other adventurers that died in my dungeon.
He had a crystal core, not unlike mine.
It was smaller, more delicate. The color was also different - not black, but red. And yet it seemed oddly familiar. Like a cousin met at a family reunion.
The gem was hidden away under his cartilage, in the place where all magical energy converged before. And promptly disappeared of course. One question out of the way.
Now. What was its purpose?
The Analyze uselessly showed only question marks.
I promptly sent a shock of mana through it and the little thing devoured it all.
No reaction. A miss, then.
Maybe it would work when joined with a living flesh? I didn’t have many choices, but a Ratling should suffice.
With a small expenditure of mana, I summoned a new one into the Fake Core Room. It appeared out of thin air, standing on two feet and sniffing at my conjured copper arms in curiosity. Not wasting any time my artificial appendages moved, keeping it in place. The Ratling squealed again, clearly panicked, while the blades created an appropriate incision on its chest. No blood since I heated them up before. Then, with a precise movement, the arms stuffed the gem inside it. A small amount of duct tape mana was spent, keeping the thing in place.
For a moment nothing happened. The creature quietened down while checking the fresh scar.
I sighed tiredly.
It seemed like this time was also a failure.
Just as I prepared myself to extract the gem my experimental Ratling suddenly began to squeal in pain, clawing at its chest.
A moment later it exploded, showering the room in blood and guts.
The red crystal remained, strangely clean and gleaming smugly. A few wisps of steam surrounded it. Was it taunting me?
In retaliation I immediately attacked with lightning, sending the jolt through the copper and forcing it to burn the little thing.
The red gem sucked it all up.
A stalemate.
Few more bolts do nothing so I decided to continue my work. Another Ratling was summoned - only to share the fate of its predecessor.
Only after the third one I understood the difference.
The gem could be safely transplanted as long as I didn’t feed it mana beforehand. When “running on empty” it somehow accepted its new host. Yes, the creature still squirmed in pain. I somehow managed to keep it alive due to a generous shower of mana and plugging any leaking parts with the duct tape.
In the end, the beast looked totally different from its ancestors. This feeling was only reinforced when I used Analyze on it.
Lesser Demonic Ironflame Rat
Beast-like dungeon creature created from basic Iron Ratling. From outside it looks just like its less powerful cousin, with an iron-like skin and similar physique. It is, however, faster and stronger than Iron Ratlings, but not necessarily smarter. While on the outside defenseless it can breathe fire and shoot Firebolts out of its mouth. The integrated mana crystal in its body also allows for Fire Claws spell to be cast on it and its allies. Has pack mentality, tendency to form tribal societies and will help any dungeon creatures in the vicinity defend their home.
Will not breed naturally due to demonic heritage, but a conversion of normal Ratlings is possible. Natural evolutions are available.
Has built-in mana conversion gland which allows it to roam corrupted wastelands without trouble.
Threat level: D
I didn’t know where this “demonic” thing came from, but the purpose of the crystal seemed clearer now.
It allowed the mage to gather and use mana. Or maybe even did it for him?
But what was weird… if he had such trump a card hidden, or should I say - such a cheat - why wasn’t he any stronger? And how did it end up inside him? Was he born like that? Or was it implanted? Maybe it was a genetic trait?
If yes, then nobles being particular about their partner really made sense. And yet...
Something didn’t add up. These chants too. But to research them I would have to hear much, much more. Which meant the investigation had to wait until more adventurers came.
At least I kinda now understood how to “make” my own special monsters. The main problem was the fact, that even after absorbing the Ironflame Rat I only learned how to make the creature, not the gem.
It was something inherently similar to me and because of that hard to replicate.
Just like the creation of another core wasn’t a walk in the park. The real one, I mean. Not my substitute.
But I had an inkling. Considering that the guy had a fire mage class and his gem was red in color… Yup - maybe just condensing mana hard enough would create something similar? But then it wasn’t going to work with just bits of thin air. I had to have some kind of material - a condenser - maybe some kind of metal would work? The harder the better - it had to survive exposure to my mana, after all.
Which meant that I had to check the remains of adventurers.
At least I could use the material menu for once. What did they bring?
Current resource availability:
common hardwood
common softwood
common iron (wrought, cast)
uncommon meteoric iron
uncommon black iron
common silver
common gold
common copper
common tin
common nickel
common zinc
uncommon meteoric nickel
dirt
limestone
sandstone
flint
meat (Grey Rat, cow, human, half-elf)
leather (Grey Rat, cow, boar)
cotton
bone (Grey Rat, human, half-elf)
common feathers
plant matter (grass, grains, mushrooms)
common tobacco leaves
I hated this shit.
I knew I was talking about ""I will it and it happens"" before, but to tell the truth, the migraine also happened. It wasn’t like using a calculator. My own brain, or whatever I was using to think, was being worked to the bone instead.
The result was a huge headache and a semi-workable list of resources.
Well. Less complaining more experimenting.
Two of these were looking quite good - black iron and meteoric iron. Not to mention their uncommon quality.
Instead of choosing one I decided to experiment on both, spawning pieces of already processed metal in the Fake Core Room.
Meteoric iron looked just like its simpler cousin - with gray wisps of some weird energy floating above it. Otherwise unremarkable.
Black iron was - like its name suggested - black. It was also a bit more malleable than its meteoric counterpart. At least the mana conductivity seemed to be a little higher.
Both pieces were left on the bloody altar - the only furniture in the room. The mage body had been already absorbed, yet the stone slab remained bloodied. Shouldn’t it disappear? Curious I used Analyze on it… And whistled in wonder.
Bloody Sacrificial Altar
This rock slab is a spontaneous creation of a dungeon core. Because of the abhorrent sacrifice that it was used in, the remaining mana, pain, and pieces of emotions transformed the chunk of stone into a magical tool.
While not condoned by the modern mages, the creation of tools in this way is often referred to as black magic. The creators of these items are unanimously pursued in the civilized nations and frowned upon among the fallen tribes.
Effects:
Once blood is spilled in the room all living creatures gain “bloodlust” and lose control unless they resist the effect.
Spilled blood can be used to enhance or heal The Guardian if it's of good enough quality.
Reading the description I didn’t know - should I be happy or horrified by my accidental creation.
At least the part about being pursued hasn’t applied to me. Still, it had a bit of synergy with The Guardian and the Mechanical Core being in the same room. The only beings in my dungeon that could be afflicted by this bloodlust were Ratlings.
What was bloodlust specifically?
I would check it later.
Now was not the time - I needed all my focus to condense the mana.
At least I think that was how it worked.
Since mana was something like a gas, then condensation should force it into a liquid state… in which the metal should absorb it all?
That was a lot of “should” piled one on another.
Oh well. That's what experimenting was for.
[Fire away!] I shouted while seeing a small little Ratling in goggles intruding on my experiment and getting promptly electrocuted.
What the hell?!
Chapter 23
Crafter, one of the Secret Council
somewhere in the Ratling Tunnels
The rat in question was currently very-very angry! These guys! These damn rats! They dared to send his materials to Mechanic and Scientist! He had a dire need for these ores! Yet all the metal and wood harvested by Scout’s teams were being uselessly wasted on strange experiments. Or even worse - turned into pretty much useless machines...
Because of that catastrophe here he was - sulking in the darkness, at the end of the deepest tunnel. Near the stairs towards the lowest level.
What was worse-worse nobody in the Council considered him important enough to assign some rat-trainees to the poor Crafter. And the bodies were something abundant in the Burrow! Yes-yes it was not because he was useless - or so they said! “Your time will come - in the future!” - they lied.
Oh, these cold stares, how did they hurt. He felt them, even now. Even when squirming alone.
“Noooo, Crafter. We can’t have you making armor, wasting ore - the Ratlings can easily use their metal hides to defend, they say.” He squealed in indignation. “And what about the underbelly I say?! What about it?!”
“Noooo, Crafter. There isn’t an enemy who can do that.” His small paws hit the ground with anger. “YET! THERE ISN’T ONE YET, YOU FOOLS! Be prepared for the future!” His squeals echoed in the tunnels, scaring the lesser Ratlings into submission.
The ordinary rats ran away while trying hard to not see the raging Secret Council member. There was, after all, nothing good from being caught in their power struggles. Especially when considering that Crafter's faction was currently getting the short end of the stick.
“Noooo, Crafter.” The angry rat continued his monologue. “We can’t have you wasting metal on weapons. Our hands are not yet agile enough to wield them, our fangs strong enough to tear through enemies.” He stopped again, gathering his thoughts and breath. Then continued roaring. “That’s why I said to make CLAWS! CLAW WEAPONS, YOU DERANGED FOOLS! Or even spiked armor. Better spears. Goggles.” He added one thing after another in a quieter and quieter voice. Then he took another breath and continued.
“But noooo, Crafter. There is no need for tools. We can’t use shovels or pickaxes. Or hammers, pliers, and lamps. Our claws are strong, our arms tireless...” He stopped in place and started to hit the wall with his head. His beady eyes soon turned teary. “Why nobody listens to me? Has the Creator abandoned his child?” He asked the darkness, stifling the rats with his words of heresy.
The Creator was, after all, their God.
As he wailed in self-pity something changed. The tunnels were soaked in a strange presence.
Three rangers sat near the entrance to the room, clearly guarding the way deeper into the dungeon.
“Was that really necessary?” One of them asked while leaning on the wall. His green clothing and leather armor looked out of place in my silvery wilderness.
“What do you mean?” The second one asked lazily while checking an arrow after arrow. He meticulously searched for damage, looking over every fletching, shaft, and arrowhead.
“You know. Slaughtering humans.”
“Captain said it was necessary. That’s the only explanation I need.” Answered the arrow guy, while the third, silent ranger only nodded.
“I understand, but what he had done…”
“What we had done.” Interrupted the second ranger.
“What we had done.” The warrior repeated his words while gulping heavily. “What we had done may very well spark the war with the Geinard Kingdom.” He turned his head down, contemplating. “We’re not really in a position to fight on two fronts.”
“Only if one of our compatriots spills the beans.”
“Or if the dungeon manages to send this information outside.” They looked at each other in silence. And then started laughing.
“Hahahahahaha!”
“Haha Haha Haha!”
“Hyaahahaha! G-good one!” The arrow-checking ranger smacked his companion on the back. “It may be a Forgotten Dungeon, but remember that they’re still as stupid as the other ones.” His white teeth were showing for the first time.
“Haaaa…” The first ranger wiped off a tear. “Yes, yes I know. It was just a jest. Still, we will have to make a dash for our lines, no matter the consequences.” His face turned serious. “I’m not sure how many of us will survive such a trip.”
“Yet we can’t have it any other way. The information is just too important.”
“I still can’t believe it.” He knocked on my hallway wall. “It doesn’t look that dangerous.”
“Probably devoured the cache in one of the deeper levels. That’s when the really bizarre stuff starts to appear.”
“Not our problem now.” The silent ranger spoke, surprising them both. “Just do your job and don’t complain.”
“Yes, don’t worry about us!”
“Yup. It was just talk.”
The men stopped talking and I retracted my consciousness.
Now… that was strange. Cache? Forgotten Dungeon? Information? At least now I understood that they were leaving pretty much straight away. Which would leave my entrance empty…
I wasn’t about to let this chance slip by.
But first - let's focus on my new captive.
The team of Lebirs already dragged him onto the slab. I made sure that it was pretty comfortable, as much as stone can be. I even carved small rows for the blood to flow freely. And made chains to keep the patient in place.
Which were being used right now, the clumsy undead fingers trying to fit mage arms and legs in them.
With a grunt, I ordered Lebirs to back down and started to grow the copper “tentacles” from the ceiling. Somehow the Mechanical Core being in vicinity allowed for better precision and soon many instruments of tor-... I mean science hung down awaiting my input.
For now, I used the hand-like parts to cuff the patient. It was probably an unnecessary precaution, but it was better to be safe than sorry. The boy didn’t even grumble, his wide-eyed stare coupled with a blank expression. His face was pale, arms and legs burned by fire, while the flesh had signs of something that looked like… mana corrosion? His veins were turning unhealthy blue and slowly the color was creeping up and up.
Note to self: Don’t use my mana duct tape on living beings.
Second note to self: Also don’t use it on non-dungeon creatures.
No time like the present.
First I needed to figure out how the mana was behaving when being used by a sentient. I already heard him chant, so that was out of the way. But the canals it was using? The point of focus? These were still a secret. Not for long, though.
I attached the wire to his left and right hand. Delicately, delicately. Right, just like that.
Then with a flick of my non-existent finger, I gathered the electrical mana in my core and sent it towards the copper wire network. Precisely just above the Fake Core Room. Then with a great grace... I flushed it down his system.
The patient screamed.
I disregarded that.
What were the patterns? Unlike real electricity, it seemed like mana was circling around his body in a specific way. And disappearing in the middle of his chest, under the cartilage bones.
Once more!
*scream*
The reaction was the same - every bit of energy was being sucked towards the earlier designated point.
I detached the left arm cable. Attached it back to the right leg.
Power on!
He screamed again. This time for longer. Were his pain centers still intact? No matter. Mana corrosion also speeded up. Which was not good. Maybe one or two tries before he expires.
Damn.
It was time to go with a bang.
I detached all cables and decided to use a wire with a spike on the end. A perfect conductor.
I stabbed it into his chest. Not deep, five centimeters at most. The patient only grunted, numbed from earlier pain.
Gathering mana I looked him over one last time.
How was it that I didn’t feel anything?
…
[Fire.] I spoke in my mind.
The mage body convulsed on the stone slab, kept in place only by the chains.
Then, with a gasp he half-sat on it, eyes piercing the ceiling, looking somewhere outside. Somewhere far away.
And then he crumbled back, life leaving his small body.
It was a short, but sweet experiment. Scientific parts had ended. Now it was time for butchery... At least I knew where to begin.
Chapter 22
Uno
The human mage was laying down on the stone bed I prepared earlier. My copper arms worked in unison cutting the flesh, taking out the bones and dissecting the organs.
And under their tireless work, a clear picture appeared.
Firstly - the mages were human. It was an answer that might be taken for granted, but in a fantasy world, it wasn’t so easy to tell. There were races which parasitized the population, adopting similar looks and lifestyle. The vampire I fought before was a perfect example. Thankfully the mage wasn’t one of these beings. And yet there was something completely different when comparing him to the other adventurers that died in my dungeon.
He had a crystal core, not unlike mine.
It was smaller, more delicate. The color was also different - not black, but red. And yet it seemed oddly familiar. Like a cousin met at a family reunion.
The gem was hidden away under his cartilage, in the place where all magical energy converged before. And promptly disappeared of course. One question out of the way.
Now. What was its purpose?
The Analyze uselessly showed only question marks.
I promptly sent a shock of mana through it and the little thing devoured it all.
No reaction. A miss, then.
Maybe it would work when joined with a living flesh? I didn’t have many choices, but a Ratling should suffice.
With a small expenditure of mana, I summoned a new one into the Fake Core Room. It appeared out of thin air, standing on two feet and sniffing at my conjured copper arms in curiosity. Not wasting any time my artificial appendages moved, keeping it in place. The Ratling squealed again, clearly panicked, while the blades created an appropriate incision on its chest. No blood since I heated them up before. Then, with a precise movement, the arms stuffed the gem inside it. A small amount of duct tape mana was spent, keeping the thing in place.
For a moment nothing happened. The creature quietened down while checking the fresh scar.
I sighed tiredly.
It seemed like this time was also a failure.
Just as I prepared myself to extract the gem my experimental Ratling suddenly began to squeal in pain, clawing at its chest.
A moment later it exploded, showering the room in blood and guts.
The red crystal remained, strangely clean and gleaming smugly. A few wisps of steam surrounded it. Was it taunting me?
In retaliation I immediately attacked with lightning, sending the jolt through the copper and forcing it to burn the little thing.
The red gem sucked it all up.
A stalemate.
Few more bolts do nothing so I decided to continue my work. Another Ratling was summoned - only to share the fate of its predecessor.
Only after the third one I understood the difference.
The gem could be safely transplanted as long as I didn’t feed it mana beforehand. When “running on empty” it somehow accepted its new host. Yes, the creature still squirmed in pain. I somehow managed to keep it alive due to a generous shower of mana and plugging any leaking parts with the duct tape.
In the end, the beast looked totally different from its ancestors. This feeling was only reinforced when I used Analyze on it.
Lesser Demonic Ironflame Rat
Beast-like dungeon creature created from basic Iron Ratling. From outside it looks just like its less powerful cousin, with an iron-like skin and similar physique. It is, however, faster and stronger than Iron Ratlings, but not necessarily smarter. While on the outside defenseless it can breathe fire and shoot Firebolts out of its mouth. The integrated mana crystal in its body also allows for Fire Claws spell to be cast on it and its allies. Has pack mentality, tendency to form tribal societies and will help any dungeon creatures in the vicinity defend their home.
Will not breed naturally due to demonic heritage, but a conversion of normal Ratlings is possible. Natural evolutions are available.
Has built-in mana conversion gland which allows it to roam corrupted wastelands without trouble.
Threat level: D
I didn’t know where this “demonic” thing came from, but the purpose of the crystal seemed clearer now.
It allowed the mage to gather and use mana. Or maybe even did it for him?
But what was weird… if he had such trump a card hidden, or should I say - such a cheat - why wasn’t he any stronger? And how did it end up inside him? Was he born like that? Or was it implanted? Maybe it was a genetic trait?
If yes, then nobles being particular about their partner really made sense. And yet...
Something didn’t add up. These chants too. But to research them I would have to hear much, much more. Which meant the investigation had to wait until more adventurers came.
At least I kinda now understood how to “make” my own special monsters. The main problem was the fact, that even after absorbing the Ironflame Rat I only learned how to make the creature, not the gem.
It was something inherently similar to me and because of that hard to replicate.
Just like the creation of another core wasn’t a walk in the park. The real one, I mean. Not my substitute.
But I had an inkling. Considering that the guy had a fire mage class and his gem was red in color… Yup - maybe just condensing mana hard enough would create something similar? But then it wasn’t going to work with just bits of thin air. I had to have some kind of material - a condenser - maybe some kind of metal would work? The harder the better - it had to survive exposure to my mana, after all.
Which meant that I had to check the remains of adventurers.
At least I could use the material menu for once. What did they bring?
Current resource availability:
common hardwood
common softwood
common iron (wrought, cast)
uncommon meteoric iron
uncommon black iron
common silver
common gold
common copper
common tin
common nickel
common zinc
uncommon meteoric nickel
dirt
limestone
sandstone
flint
meat (Grey Rat, cow, human, half-elf)
leather (Grey Rat, cow, boar)
cotton
bone (Grey Rat, human, half-elf)
common feathers
plant matter (grass, grains, mushrooms)
common tobacco leaves
I hated this shit.
I knew I was talking about ""I will it and it happens"" before, but to tell the truth, the migraine also happened. It wasn’t like using a calculator. My own brain, or whatever I was using to think, was being worked to the bone instead.
The result was a huge headache and a semi-workable list of resources.
Well. Less complaining more experimenting.
Two of these were looking quite good - black iron and meteoric iron. Not to mention their uncommon quality.
Instead of choosing one I decided to experiment on both, spawning pieces of already processed metal in the Fake Core Room.
Meteoric iron looked just like its simpler cousin - with gray wisps of some weird energy floating above it. Otherwise unremarkable.
Black iron was - like its name suggested - black. It was also a bit more malleable than its meteoric counterpart. At least the mana conductivity seemed to be a little higher.
Both pieces were left on the bloody altar - the only furniture in the room. The mage body had been already absorbed, yet the stone slab remained bloodied. Shouldn’t it disappear? Curious I used Analyze on it… And whistled in wonder.
Bloody Sacrificial Altar
This rock slab is a spontaneous creation of a dungeon core. Because of the abhorrent sacrifice that it was used in, the remaining mana, pain, and pieces of emotions transformed the chunk of stone into a magical tool.
While not condoned by the modern mages, the creation of tools in this way is often referred to as black magic. The creators of these items are unanimously pursued in the civilized nations and frowned upon among the fallen tribes.
Effects:
Once blood is spilled in the room all living creatures gain “bloodlust” and lose control unless they resist the effect.
Spilled blood can be used to enhance or heal The Guardian if it's of good enough quality.
Reading the description I didn’t know - should I be happy or horrified by my accidental creation.
At least the part about being pursued hasn’t applied to me. Still, it had a bit of synergy with The Guardian and the Mechanical Core being in the same room. The only beings in my dungeon that could be afflicted by this bloodlust were Ratlings.
What was bloodlust specifically?
I would check it later.
Now was not the time - I needed all my focus to condense the mana.
At least I think that was how it worked.
Since mana was something like a gas, then condensation should force it into a liquid state… in which the metal should absorb it all?
That was a lot of “should” piled one on another.
Oh well. That's what experimenting was for.
[Fire away!] I shouted while seeing a small little Ratling in goggles intruding on my experiment and getting promptly electrocuted.
What the hell?!
Chapter 23
Crafter, one of the Secret Council
somewhere in the Ratling Tunnels
The rat in question was currently very-very angry! These guys! These damn rats! They dared to send his materials to Mechanic and Scientist! He had a dire need for these ores! Yet all the metal and wood harvested by Scout’s teams were being uselessly wasted on strange experiments. Or even worse - turned into pretty much useless machines...
Because of that catastrophe here he was - sulking in the darkness, at the end of the deepest tunnel. Near the stairs towards the lowest level.
What was worse-worse nobody in the Council considered him important enough to assign some rat-trainees to the poor Crafter. And the bodies were something abundant in the Burrow! Yes-yes it was not because he was useless - or so they said! “Your time will come - in the future!” - they lied.
Oh, these cold stares, how did they hurt. He felt them, even now. Even when squirming alone.
“Noooo, Crafter. We can’t have you making armor, wasting ore - the Ratlings can easily use their metal hides to defend, they say.” He squealed in indignation. “And what about the underbelly I say?! What about it?!”
“Noooo, Crafter. There isn’t an enemy who can do that.” His small paws hit the ground with anger. “YET! THERE ISN’T ONE YET, YOU FOOLS! Be prepared for the future!” His squeals echoed in the tunnels, scaring the lesser Ratlings into submission.
The ordinary rats ran away while trying hard to not see the raging Secret Council member. There was, after all, nothing good from being caught in their power struggles. Especially when considering that Crafter's faction was currently getting the short end of the stick.
“Noooo, Crafter.” The angry rat continued his monologue. “We can’t have you wasting metal on weapons. Our hands are not yet agile enough to wield them, our fangs strong enough to tear through enemies.” He stopped again, gathering his thoughts and breath. Then continued roaring. “That’s why I said to make CLAWS! CLAW WEAPONS, YOU DERANGED FOOLS! Or even spiked armor. Better spears. Goggles.” He added one thing after another in a quieter and quieter voice. Then he took another breath and continued.
“But noooo, Crafter. There is no need for tools. We can’t use shovels or pickaxes. Or hammers, pliers, and lamps. Our claws are strong, our arms tireless...” He stopped in place and started to hit the wall with his head. His beady eyes soon turned teary. “Why nobody listens to me? Has the Creator abandoned his child?” He asked the darkness, stifling the rats with his words of heresy.
The Creator was, after all, their God.
As he wailed in self-pity something changed. The tunnels were soaked in a strange presence.
