The World-ruling Dungeon

Lighting rods are one of the most basic of all magical tools. Magical items imbued with mana-infused stones, either gathered from monsters or mined from the ground. Manastones are graded by various attributes: Power, Concentration, Efficiency, and Stability. The issue that plagues the modern world was the uncertainty on the supply of such stones; In his workshop, Gustav knew this very well...

 

"How do I deal with this..."

 

Gustav was the last remaining tollsmith of a forsaken region called Mailard. Mailard was nothing. Neither a country, nor a state, not even a vassal. Mailard was a grey zone, desired by none of the surrounding countries. A single independent city and its adjacent territory sandwiched between two warring countries and flanked by the Great Lhusian Plains. Don't underestimate the size of Mailard, its size was not only huge, but immeasurable. The problem was no one knew for sure it's size.

The whole region was plagued by constant monster stampedes, which fueled the ever-burning-out economy. Despite its name, the Great Lhusian Plains were not plains. The huge land, covering almost a quarter of the whole continent, was dotted with forests and Demonic Gardens; nests from which demonic beasts and monsters sprouted and corrupted. The plains, however, had its own power structure, and only weak monsters gushed out onto human territory. The fertile lands made it a perfect target for expansion, which had been tried thousands of times over the millennia, only to be crushed by the constant stampedes.

In those lands, the power of Manastones was crucial to protect the land and maintain the status quo.

 

"I am very sorry master!" an apologetic apprentice knelt beside the workshop table where his master was sat, frowning, pausing whatever he had been building.

 

"I told you to not skimp this time! It's the fourth time they don't return! I told you to hire 4 parties and gave you the money to do so! Instead, you say you hired two groups of two?!"

 

"I am very sorry master!" The apprentice repeated himself, prostrating on the ground, his head touching the floor.

 

"There's no "sorry" here! How the fuck am I supposed to pay you if I can't produce shit because I get no stones from your stupidity!"

"You are not getting paid until I receive the next delivery! And pray they come back alive this time!"

 

"Tch-" The apprentice bit his tongue. His greed costed him another week with no money... He was certain hiring two groups would increase the results and thus warrant him a raise... The opposite had happened though.

 

Not a single adventurer returned alive. Some of their bodies were eventually found and that's how he became aware of the problem...

 

"Haah... There's almost nothing left in the stock... The supplies are thinning out and I need to sell cheap, so the city keeps buying from me... I wonder if the time has come to finally move out of here..."

 

Gustav let his honest thoughts come out as words.

 

"But Master! There's nobody else here who makes tools! The whole Mailard will collapse without the tools!"

 

"They should've thought about that before sending adventurers to guard the borders of that shady country as a deal! I'm not gonna stay behind just so they get away with doing stupid crap."

 

"If you are closing... Please take me with you."

 

"What the fuck? Of course, you idiot. You are smart like a duck, but I have taught you for many years... I won't let all that time and money go to waste. Now go to the fucking guild, and this time, HIRE THE AMOUNT I TELL YOU TO HIRE! You moron!"

 

Gustav yelled at Bahr and threw a couple silver coins.

 

Bahr caught them and quickly left...

 

'I wonder how they're gonna deal with the stampedes...'

 

Gustav thought to himself as he saw his helper leave. His tools were paramount for the insufficient military to keep up with the sheer amount of monsters.

 

'They should’ve thought that before firing me and paid me what I asked back then... That's no longer my problem.'

 

He went back to assemble a shoddy looking Lighting rod.

 

The small pile of those next to him was the proof of today's hard work...

 

'Haaah-... I miss the days of making actual powerful tools...'

 

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"Please! Please! At least spare my daughter!"

 

A woman covered in blood and grime screamed while crawling out of a large pit, full of festering bodies.

 

"GET BACK IN THE TRASH!"

*Prak*

 

The woman collapsed, her eyes white and mouth foaming. Her arms and neck unnaturally spasming after having her neck snapped in half by the Imperial Soldier's kick. The once beautiful woman, disfigured by the atrocities, was quickly swallowed by the tide of half-dead demi-humans, her child's mourn as a grievous addition to the choir of moans and dying screams.

 

The soldiers, unmoved, blankly waited for the executioner squad sent by the Holy Church. Their job was just collecting the trash and throwing it into the pit. Now everything was the Red Priest's responsibility.'

 

Only a minute passed before their arrival, 12 acolytes fitted in red robes, each carrying a large book black and a golden wand. Their faces were hidden behind cowls that matched the color of their attire. A single priest slowly leads the group, dressed in a luxurious white robe, decorated with gold threads and red garments.

 

"THY INFIDELS SHALL BE PURIFIED BY HOLY FLAME OF GOD OUR SAVIOR! MAY YOUR SOULS BE EXCUSED FROM THIS DISGUSTING FORM AND EVOLVE INTO THAT OF BEINGS MADE IN THE IMAGE AND LIKENESS OF OUR MERCIFUL GOD OF CREATION!" The priest's voice echoed in the forest, all soldiers falling to their knees, putting their closed right fist in front of their heart as they fell into prayer.

 

""May the holy flame burn the sins and bodies of the sinful and purify thy souls of the sin of living as beasts, Holy Fireball"" The incantations of all twelve acolytes echoed in choir as the moans of the demi-humans turned into wails of despair.

 

The yellowish fireballs soared through the air from the wands of the acolytes. Quickly turning the pit into a pyre.

Those inside slowly stopping to move as their body carbonized from the flames under the inebriated eyes of the acolytes and priest.

 

"May God's will be carried to its fullest extent!" The priest exclaimed as he turned away from the huge flames, exacting the prayers from the dozen or so soldiers and the acolytes.

 

""We are but pawns who carry out God's will""

 

The acolytes and soldiers responded. The acolytes now turning around following the priest back to wherever they came from.

Most of the soldiers going back to their job, of tracking down the remains of the Demi-human village...

 

A single man remained behind, staring at the burning flames.

His job was to ensure nobody survived the fire, although he knew it was impossible...

Tears flowed under his closed helmet as he once again assured himself survival was simply impossible.

He hoped it wasn't, for he'd just seen his own daughter being burned alive... Together with more than a hundred of his friends, neighbors, colleagues, and family... All for the sake of an imaginary God.