“Arrg!” Rick cried before suddenly tearing the arrow out from his eye.

  “Baby!” Beretta rushed to his side while Alice retreated into the passage they had come from.

  “What the fuck was that?” Rick roared as Jinjihan cautiously eyed the direction where the arrow had come from through his sniper's lens.

  “It was an Elven Scout but the Elves aren’t supposed to be a hostile faction!” He hissed before eventually spotting the dazed scout I had taken control of.

  “Yeah, well I guess it’s like you said. Things really are different. Fuck! Please tell me we can kill them all!” Rick yelled as Beretta wrapped half of his head in bandages, covering his eye.

  “While I’d like to say no since killing any of them would pit us against the local faction, I can’t ignore the possibility that we might have no choice.” Jinjihan breathed as he aimed at the confused Elf scout.

  I watched as he gently squeezed the trigger but, at the last moment, his eyes shook and a single tear welled in his left eye. One he quickly blinked away.

  He then dropped his rifle and, without facing the others, spoke.

  “Let’s step back a little so that Mr. Rick can recover but, from this point on, Mrs. Beretta and I will take the lead. We will operate under the assumption that every faction is now hostile or until Mrs. Beretta and I determine otherwise.”

  The group then momentarily joined Alice in the passage and I took this as an opportunity to go over every faction that was present in the dungeon—or me.

  Residing over the first eight levels or were the Elves.

  They lived in the Everreach Forest, where Rick and company were, and it was divided into two: The treetop city of Tycoed and the Darksoaked Roots below.

  The Elves lived in relative peace in the buildings along the upper parts of the gargantuan tree trunks and while the roots below were scarcely populated, they were fraught with conflict which was mainly caused by the next faction.

  The Orc and Goblin alliance, collectively known as The Dark Horde. This hideous bunch lived in the Stoneborne Crypt which was a whole sixteen levels deep and it’s in the darkness of this place where they multiplied under the leadership of a cunning demon.

  The next faction was the Dwarf and Centaur alliance, also known as the Hypogean Meritocracy. This group had built their home to span sixteen levels as well and it would go on to be called the Hypogean Armoury. This labyrinth of stone and steel is where most factions got their weapons and other manufactured goods.

  Beneath even them were the Merfolk and Lizard Folk who lived in the surreal space known as the Hidden Sea. A vast body of water at the centre of which was an island which marked the centre of the joint chiefdom of Puunaue.

  Beneath them were the Eight Gates of Hell which was a hellish gauntlet of combat overseen by the Seishin who had come to call the eight mountainous lined levels home.

  Below that was the home of the last two factions, the city of Eventide – Home of Werewolves and Vampires alike.

  It was a sprawling and oddly urban city which had its own districts and even an electrical grid.

  Why was any of this important?

  These factions would be my means of survival and in order to use them to their fullest, I’d need to be mindful of how they each interacted because, according to the lore of the Sunless War, each of them wanted access to the Genesis Pool just as much as the players did.

  So, even if I successfully managed to pit them against Rick’s group, it’d all be pointless if the NPCs then turned their eyes back to me.

  One wrong move and a faction that was otherwise of little consequence would be barging into the Divine Sanctum and doing as they pleased with my Core.

  The first order of business was the elimination of Rick’s group and so I turned towards the centre of Tycoed where the majority of elves lived.

  It was a beehive-like collection of buildings all connected by a dense web of bridges.

  My target was the King of the Elves, Llestr, who was currently in a meeting with his advisor, Tywys.

  The King was thin, had thin white hair that draped over his small body and had large bags beneath his eyes.

  He wore a white silk gown that seemed somewhat heavy for him as he sat slouched over in his rather small bedchamber.

  His advisor, on the other hand, sat completely upright and had his long white hair bound in a neat bun that sat above his head. It was adorned with various ornaments of amber and steel.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “We cannot hold them back forever, my liege. It is only a matter of time before they breach our defences, but I’ve already told you this, so why won’t you listen to reason?” Tywys asked. His age resembled that of a middle-aged man, although he was a few hundred years old.

  “We, by law, are not permitted to leave the bounds of the sacred forest.” King Llestr wheezed but this just made Tywys shake his head, as if he had expected that response but was disappointed anyway.

  “When will you accept that it wasn’t your fault, brother?” Tywys’s expression was one of pleading.

  “Please leave.” Llestr’s eyes fell as he said those words.

  “As you wish.” Tywys bowed before standing and leaving.

  A heavy silence then befell the King, making him sit even lower than before.

  Naturally, I knew why he was so crestfallen.

  Back when he was still a prince, a hundred years prior, he accompanied his father on an offensive attack into the Crypt.

  His father, like many others, was tired of simply letting the Horde claw away at his territory, claiming lives as they did.

  While Elven Law prohibited unnecessary travel beyond the Darksoaked Roots, Llestr’s father knew that if nothing was done, the Elven kingdom would eventually fall, so he led a host of ten thousand brave warriors through the Darksoaked Roots and into the Crypt below, where they faced the Dark Horde, which numbered a hundred thousand, with the Goblins making up eighty percent of the Horde.

  This may have seemed unwise, to face such overwhelming numbers, but the Elves had a racial advantage with them having more base level HP, they had access to superior gear and were far more coordinated than their chaotic opponents.

  The one thing Llestr’s father couldn’t have foreseen was the fact that his enemies were receiving support from the Demons who also called the dungeon home and so, as soon as the Elven Army fully entered the Crypt, they were attacked from all sides and while they would have ordinarily been able to handle this, they were no match for the Demons who, while numbering no more than ten, massacred friend and foe alike in their quest for blood.

  The few Elves who survived retreated and Llestr blamed himself for not being able to save his father.

  That guilt gnawed at him ever since and he further restricted travel beyond even the upper parts of the Everreach Forest.

  This was an issue because the Goblins and Orcs had completely taken over the Darksoaked Roots.

  Now, this was all part of the way things played out in the game but, in order to increase my chances of survival, I would need to reshape each of the factions in a way that ensured two things: the elimination of Rick’s group and the protection of my core.

  I had a trump card on the ninety-ninth Level but I didn’t want things to get that far, so I chose to instead focus on the Elves.

  It would be suspicious if I possessed Llestr’s and suddenly started demanding radical reforms all at once.

  But I also couldn’t take my sweet time.

  I needed to be as direct as possible.

  Each NPC was now acting of their own accord and it wouldn’t be too long before dramatic changes began occurring.

  That said, a little drama was just what I needed.

  In the dungeon, the most commonly practiced religion was Scionism in which people worshipped those who were called the “Firstborns” of the Mother Goddess, the Earth.

  These beings could command the very elements and while I knew their true nature, they had since faded into the stuff of myth and faith which also made them a viable tool.

  So, I possessed Llestr and tried seeing if I could possess Tywys as well but it seemed as though I was limited to one vessel at a time which, while unfortunate, wasn’t catastrophic.

  [Name: Llestr

  Race: Elf/Seishin Hybrid

  Level: 100

  Exp: 10 457

  Remaining Upgrade Points: 0

  HP: 10 100/10 100

  Primary Weapon: Crestfall (Telluride Steel long-sword)

  DPH: 2500

  Ammo: 1

  Secondary Weapon: None

  DPH: 0

  Ammo: 0

  Armour Rating: 49.5%

  Tactical: None

  Skills: [Lesser Healing], [Vital Strike], [Moderate Healing], [Maisha’s Wrath], [Greater Healing], [Maisha's Offering], [Spectral Strike], [Elemental Orb], [Possession] and [Elemental Manifestation]]

  As expected of a faction leader, he had high stats and a ton of skills.

  His body may have looked frail but his true nature as a warrior was still very much unchanged.

  I squeezed my newfound hands and got onto my feet and each movement I made carried with it the natural dignified strength of a king.

  I’ll admit that it definitely felt weird piloting a body that wasn’t mine but it also felt snug and comfortable so I got accustomed very quickly.

  What I couldn’t get used to was Llestr’s guilt. His trauma. All of his pain came crashing down on me and since I technically had a body now, I could feel tears welling up. Tears that held his sorrow and mine.

  I comforted the unconscious parts of Llestr and told him that if he helped me with my goals, his people and ultimately the entire dungeon itself, would be better for it.

  He reluctantly accepted my words but asked what I was and I gave him the only answer that came to mind.

  “I am your Creator.” I unthinkingly said aloud.

  This was enough to convince Llestr and so I wiped our tears and exited his bedchamber.

  I then made my way to the Throne room which, unlike his modest chambers, was grand in every sense.

  Carved through the very centre of the Evertree, it was a tall space, lined with equally tall windows that allowed the mystical light from outside to wash inwards.

  Lining almost every surface were intricate carvings that ranged from floral patterns to depictions of a Great War.

  At the fore was the throne, a tall structure made from the shimmering dark rock known as Telluride which bore almost no other features making it stand out in the otherwise ornate room.

  I sat on this slab of stone and, since word had quickly gotten out that the reclusive King Llestr had left his chambers, it wasn’t long before Tywys and Llestr’s other advisors were kneeling at my feet.

  I rested my vessel’s weary head on my right arm before letting out a heavy sigh.

  I wasn’t confident in my acting skills so I asked Llestr for some tips on how to act kingly while I was at the wheel.

  “I have received word from on high that our day of judgment is coming.” The wheeze from before was gone, replaced by a tone that was becoming of a lord. A tone that Llestr had borrowed lent me graciously as he said lines which I repeated.

  “A voice came upon me, rested me from my place of doubt and misery and told me that, if nothing is done, fire will drench the entirety of Stíli, taking from us the only home we have ever known and everything in it. The voice said that the fire of the end is sitting in the torches of four beings who have recently entered our sanctuary from the sealed entrance above. We have been instructed to extinguish the coming flame in the name of peace and harmony.” I was told not to raise my voice, or dramatically raise my fist and this was enough to make several of the advisors tremble.

  “Gather your best men so that they may snuff it out before it grows any larger.”