The dark corridor before Asphalos filled him with just as dark thoughts. He humourlessly studied the words etched around the Dungeon’s entrance, not for the first time wondering what those meant. He nervously rubbed the metal helmet he held in his hands, waiting for the report. The thing had saved his life in the previous battle, leaving a dent on its side and unfortunately damaging it enough for all enchantments to stop working. He would put it on the firepce ledge in his living room to keep it as a good luck charm.

  “Sir!”

  Asphalos turned to face the scouts, noticing one of them was missing. “Trouble?” His gaze travelled over the nearby forest.

  The leading scout shook his head before changing his mind and nodding. “The seventh wave is done. We rounded up everyone we could but had to kill quite a few around this area.”

  “Understandable,” Asphalos approved. They had learnt from the previous waves to cull the rowdy. With the enormous influx of people, they were bound to cause problems as they tried to form their own groups. Not to mention all the new mouths to feed…

  Every capable leader had to go before they recovered their power base and got a stupid idea or two. It wouldn’t stop the groups from trying to gauge a pce for themselves—the world was too rge, and they couldn’t discern with certainty whether someone was important or highly capable. There would be the seventh human nation forming regardless of their efforts.

  They just wanted to keep the trouble out of the Ishey principality. A few hundred dead would cause a lot of people to hate them, but frankly, Ishey didn’t want them here, and neither did he. They already cked resources to support the existing popution.

  Was it a good method? No. Did he care enough to try to save these people? Also no. There was already enough instability despite their ‘Prince's’ efforts. And this would slow down another power block, becoming a thing immediately. Quick and dirty was the better choice, even if it sowed hatred. Maybe if they weren’t at war, but…

  Shaking away the meandering thoughts, he returned to the topic at hand. There had to be more. “It doesn’t expin the missing…” He tried to recall the name, but it escaped him.

  “Misp died, sir…” The head scout shook his head. “Efpirot’s infiltrators nearby got him. We chased them down. They shouldn’t know about this Dungeon.”

  Asphalos wanted to facepalm. “They saw the giant ball of energy. The natives are not stupid.” He growled, sending the scouts scampering.

  This was an issue. The propaganda demanded the enemy be demeaned. And the world’s natives were different and primitive enough for newly arrived humans to unite against. It was simpler if the soldiers thought of them as savage monsters.

  But the Efpirots were anything but. It was apparent to anyone who wasn’t saddled with prejudice. They fought with tactics, spoke, and crafted weapons. They had cities and a written word. They were smart. Just as much as they were. And they were learning quickly.

  Asphalos had heard from his grandfather—someone who had arrived along the first Wave—how little Efpirots had at the beginning. They had been nothing but a tribal annoyance at the borders of human influence. Now they were pushing back, fighting with great ferocity.

  The resulting wars… He had to wonder what drove Efpirots so hard. It almost seemed like they were trying to get away from something. That they were pushed towards the human-ruled territories. Or that’s what some of the higher-ups theorised, judging by the scattered intel they had gotten.

  He decided he didn’t care. His job was to command, and he was good at it. Which was how he had earned himself the dubious duty of securing the unknown dungeon that just sprang up from nowhere, right next to a fucking battlefield!

  “This will cause more friction…” His mutters didn’t go unnoticed.

  The scout leader timidly stepped forward again. “Sir, uh… The raiders…”

  “What do they want now?” Asphalos didn’t look forward to whatever it was. These stuck-up bitches flying their eagles had the tendency of thinking they were above everyone else, not just in the literal sense.

  “They want their people in the party for the initial exploration.”

  This wasn’t surprising, but it still caused Ashpalos to stifle a groan. “Of course. Of course they do! Did they at least tell you why? And why didn’t they send someone to ask instead of getting you to do it?”

  “Well…”

  “Speak already!” He tried to recall how the man had made it to the position he was in. Remembering it was his order, he held back the curses.

  “They are still busy rounding up people and occasionally killing someone…”

  “Right. Kem. Stop hesitating and just speak.” Ashpalos didn’t have the time to deal with his subordinate’s particurities.

  “They want revenge.” Kem practically vomited out the news.

  “They what? Why? They usually don’t care about their fallen… Ah. Did the culprit…” A realisation hit him.

  “Yeah.” Kem nodded sympathetically. “Whoever did it hurt the bird. Burnt its feathers good. You know how they get when their eagles get hurt.”

  “Observe decorum,” Ashpalos snapped, scaring the scout straight. He disliked when his subordinates became too chummy in public. That could wait for a more private setting. “Fine. They can get their spots. But let them know they can’t take their damned birds inside. And no more than five of them. Are we clear?”

  “Clear as the day, sir!” Kem saluted and vanished from the spot.

  The dispy of skill reminded Ashpalos why he had picked this prick as one of the sub-leaders. His mood ruined even further, he began pnning the best way to fortify the position. There might be other ways inside the Dungeon, but this was definitely the main one. They had to secure this spot the best they could.

  It was a bit of a stretch, but this pce was part of Ishey's principality. They technically had the cim on the structure. Not that Efpirots cared about borders, and the fuckers from Relsthag would be back after their failed ambush. Their forces had suffered the least…

  This would cause an even rger mess than they were already in. “Shit.” He succinctly summarised.

  But not everything was bad. If they managed to secure this Dungeon, it would give them another source of the Power Stones. Ishey needed this. This would bolster their forces by a rge amount. All the additional armour and weapons they could craft…

  Ashpalos rubbed his ruined helmet again while giving orders to the nearby soldiers. He wondered if his lifesaver could be repaired. Perhaps even soon…

  Right after the Dungeons repelled the Overseers, they ran low on the creatures possessing the Power Stones. These projectiles seemed to tax these mysterious structures greatly, but the exhaustion never sted long. In just days, the Dungeons would surge with new vigour, refilling their empty tunnels with new protectors.

  This was the perfect time to explore them and make maps with minimal risk. Something he pnned to capitalise on as more and more orders were made. His people ran around, building wooden palisades and exploring every nook and cranny.

  Asphalos's eyes turned to the horizon, watching the skies. The cloudless, blue expanse mesmerised him, letting his tired mind rex as much as possible in the given circumstances. He combed the distance, wondering just how many new dungeons people would find because of this new Wave. Everyone who had eyes had seen the balls of psma rise out of the wilderness to meet the ships. Maybe their enemies would be busy securing their own borders.

  New exploration parties had to be formed. Supply chains reworked. The Dungeons would have to be evaluated and decided whether to keep them around for farming or to be destroyed by retrieving the core.

  But that was above his pay grade. His duty was to secure the pce and choose people to send in and explore first. “Speaking of which.” He rolled his eyes, seeing five giant eagles circle above his head, posturing and releasing responding screams.

  The five asshats flew lower and lower, sending a good bunch of his people scattering to the sides as they nded. All five sported full armour and enchanted weapons. They dropped from their saddles, nding on the ground with a loud thud, and gred at everyone who dared to meet their eyes.

  At this point, Kem reappeared at Asphalos’s side. “Pompous bastards.” He mumbled, making sure the raiders didn’t hear him.

  Despite disliking the Raiders, Asphalos knew their prideful mannerism wasn’t unfounded. All of them were skilled with weapons and could use magic. But most importantly, they were rich and came from wealthy families. Nobody wanted to get in the way of someone strong and influential.

  “Kem,” he watched the raiders approach. “You will join them.”

  The scout leader looked spooked. “I-I…” He stuttered, trying to find a way to weasel out of the assignment.

  “They will make trouble, and they will talk. Pay attention. I want you to hear every single detail they talk about.” Asphalos' fingers flexed around his helmet, forcing his face to remain neutral.

  Kem looked like he had been forced to swallow an eagle's excrement. “Okay, boss…” He muttered, referring to his superior, clearly inappropriately, in his st defiance.

  “And when an opportunity comes—”

  “Asphalos!” One of the raiders—a tall, blond man with piercing blue eyes—took the lead of the small group to the displeasure of his comrades. They stared daggers at the man but chose not to challenge his cim. “I am Kriso. Knight under Prince Ishey. My father is Count Pearl Moint.” He banged his palm over his heart. “And we are here to punish the evildoer!”

  Asphalos immediately wanted to punch the man. He strained his muscles to keep his calm. “Kriso-”

  “It is Sir Kriso!”

  “Kriso.” He repeated, letting some of his displeasure seep into his voice. His restrained power boiled under his skin. He was quite eager to show these whelps how he had earned his position without any background. Unfortunately, they took the hint, now looking at him with some respect, sensing his strength. “If you pn to join this exploration, you will listen to my orders and that of those who will be assigned as the leaders of the party. Are we clear?”

  The blond man scowled, clearly unhappy about how he was addressed. But the boy had enough sense to not speak out on it—at least not here where everyone could see. “Of course.” He still refused to show any respect otherwise.

  “Good. Regardless of your goals and ability, you have no experience with exploring dungeons. Which is why I need you to defer to the party’s leader. And no, it won’t be any of you.” Asphalos spoke before they could raise any objections. “You will leave in an hour. Prepare to be underground for a long time.”

  While Kriso was frowning, one of the men behind him stepped out of the line. “We are here only for the…evildoer…” He seemed to hate the way Kriso had referred to the culprit.

  “No,” Asphalos stepped forward, letting some of his mana seep out. “If you join the exploration, you will finish it. All the way through. I will not tolerate any of you leaving before the task is done. Even if you find and kill the one who injured one of your eagles.”

  Once more, the Riders appeared to be cowed. They stood in silence while Kriso considered their options. “Our captain won’t like this,” he finally concluded.

  “Then he can bring his compints to me.” Asphalos turned away. Despite his stance, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. In the end, he knew his actual position wasn’t high enough to order around the Riders without a good reason.

  But for now, he had to form a decent party that was very, very trustworthy. He looked at the horizon once again, noting storm clouds appearing in the distance. “There will be a storm…” And with that, he grabbed Kem’s scruff and dragged him along to see who he could bully into the task. “And Kem… If an opportunity comes… I know I can trust you to take care of some of them. Isn’t that right?”

  “That’s right, boss!”

  Kem’s giggle was creepy, but trustworthy. It was another reason Asphalos had promoted the man. Kem wasn’t against getting his hands dirty.

  Enkiari