It took nearly two days of waiting to fully refill my mana, now that my creatures on the first floor had been replenished and they could safely decimate the insect population that had been enjoying its vacation off and supplent my normal mana stream with their own small sparks. Plenty of other creatures had filtered their way in, mostly stone-backed toads and burrowing rats common in the area—and most infuriatingly, also the bat with its shrill shrieks, still too large for my cave spiders to wrangle and too blind for my luminous constrictors to distract. Fantastic. I hated it.
But it was two days of sitting and watching my floors react to their new strength, budding though it was; the fungal gardens were the most secure, of course. Not enough ti nor energy for a proper expansion so my changes had been more minor, and already my lovely beasts were thriving in it. The burrowing rats had safely located around a quarter of the jewels I'd set out for them and tucked them away in their dens, already on the hunt for more.
And in a beautiful twist of fate, it had created two subgroups of rats; those that hunted, and those that stole. A few of the more clever rats had figured that there was no need to brave the dangerous outside world full of snakes and bears when the jewels were just sitting there contentedly in their brethren's dens. A quick pop inside and now they could absorb sparks of mana from the jewel as it grew fat in my presence.
So now rats had to worry about finding food, finding jewels, protecting jewels, protecting their nests, and staying alive on top of it all.
The ironback toad would still be needed to defend those on the second floor, but the rats above were quickly developing a backbone. I couldn't have been more proud.
Down on the third, the greater crab had finally found a nest, safely sequestered away from all the various silverhead and silvertooths schools I'd been recreating whenever I had the spare mana—her missing claw had almost convinced so of the larger schools that she was an easy target.
Hard to believe that when she was still ten tis their size, but they managed.
She was still digesting the remains of her last attackers as she carefully released the eggs from her undersides, little orange-gold spheres drifting down to rest in a hole she'd dug in the sand. From what I'd picked apart from her schema, she'd sit and guard them for the handful of weeks it would take for them to grow—or sooner, as I had a pretty good guess my ambient mana vastly decreased incubation ti—and then they would be independent from their first mont out of the egg. Very helpful.
But now, with my mana counter settling up in the high sixties, I finally returned to my second floor.
Cracks in the walls from the removal of my ambient mana, vastly diminished creature count, a lingering presence of destruction. A right ss, really. I'd already shored up the walls the second the attack had finished but I fluttered around them again, growing listone to fill in the gaps, adding veins of iron right beneath the surface as so sort of way to strengthen it. Strong as I was, I doubted I could save my creatures from a total collapse if it happened. Terrifying thought, really.
I flew through the rest of my floor, inspecting the hordes left; the stone-backed toad and burrowing rat populations were fine; more than fine, really, given as they'd lost so of their predators in the luminous constrictors who had gone below and hadn't managed to co back out. I'd change that soon enough. The flora was still thriving, if a little shaken by the montary lack of ambient mana, with the notable… exception of…
What?
I slapped near ten points of awareness against the tree just to confirm. Yes, it was dead. Very dead, rather, its deep scarlet bark bare and hundreds of bone-white leaves littering the ground. The vampiric mangrove, first brought back after who knew how many centuries extinct, and I'd killed it.
Not great.
My other points of awareness flitted through the floor and found more; maybe a dozen dead and more weak, leaves wilting and thorns dormant beneath their bark. Fury surged through —had so bastard of a beetle perfectly built to kill my precious extinct species managed to enter my halls when I was otherwise distracted, or a disease I didn't know? Gods. I'd murder every offender in an instant.
I tore into the closest dead tree, ripping through its cells. Its strangely dehydrated cells, really, shriveled and worn–
Almost like what had killed my fish down below.
Ah.
Mangroves were capable of growing and thriving in briny water. But, ah, more so mangroves that had actually been exposed to it. I had given mine only freshwater and those within my halls were built to evolve; they'd slowly started to lose their ability to handle it.
Fantastic. I was fucking myself without even realizing.
That sped up my plans to introduce so brackish quality to the waters, though; these trees would have so level of resistance due to surviving the first batch, and hopefully I could get them properly content with salt by the ti they started laying their seeds en masse. My plans for a much-increased kobold population wouldn't do if the trees they needed for their tools were too few to help them.
So rcy, though. I pushed healing mana to those still fighting off the efforts of the saltwater, freshening their leaves and pushing water to cycle back through their trunks; they shifted in an intangible breeze in what I could almost take as thanks. Truly, I couldn't wait for their evolution. It would be beyond belief.
But for now, I had to take care of the dead trees; while it would be nice to give the kobolds an easy source of wood, I didn't want to make it too easy. I swept my mana through the clouds of white leaves at their base, sweeping them into the canal to decompose into little chunks to feed the algae.
The white leaves.
The very white, very pale leaves that covered the many spiking branches of the mangrove.
The point of awareness I had aid at the webweavers in their little corner of the second floor paused.
For the mont, I'd had them start to shape their web over a random stalactite in the corner for a lack of anywhere better to put them; already they'd swamped the listone in great bunches of pure white, twitching and writhing with bugs as their indistinguishable white bodies clambered all over it. But there was only so much they could do in a corner.
It wouldn't be a perfect disguise, of course. There was only so much that webs could look like leaves.
But if invaders had their attention elsewhere—say, on many attacking beasts—then perhaps a dead mangrove posturing as alive with its scarlet bark and white leaves would go unnoticed. Just long enough for them to get close.
Oh, I very much liked that idea.
I popped the suggestion into the lead webweaver's mind, laying down a relatively easy path for them to get to the first dead mangrove; she paused, mandibles twitching, but activated that little spark of mana connecting her to her brethren. Pheromones hit the air and they started talking about what I could only assu was the pros and cons of the scenario—far too much credit, they were still evolved from the idiot cave spiders—but eventually peeled their way off their nest, skittering like little ghosts over the ceiling as they made their way to their new ho.
Once I could get birds or the like in here, they would have to choose very carefully what branch they wanted to rest on.
Or the fucking bat. Whenever I could catch it.
Only five webweavers for now, enough to take one tree—but they were very close to laying their first clutch of eggs and I knew how fast spiders reproduced. A dozen or so dead trees would be an excellent start to this new trap.
And I could see them covering living trees as well, though perhaps not to the sa extent or efficiency; either way, just blurring the lines between what was safe and what wasn't. A dungeon's greatest dream.
I let them start their weaving process, enough pheromones drifting through the air as they planned that a few cave spiders lifted their heads in confusion. Still plenty of mana to my na to finish up. Billowing moss was the first goal; feathery fronds galore sprouted from stony soil, rolling hills of pale green to disguise various pit traps and thorned roots adorning the listone. It wouldn't do much to soone with any sense of awareness, since I imagined few adventurers were quick to trust stepping on sothing they couldn't see beneath in a dungeon, but I was rather hoping the rest of my floor would make it so they had other, more pressing things to concentrate on.
The vampiric mangroves were incredibly deadly and paired so very well with my silvertooths' blood-frenzy, but they still needed help to function. Their thorns were only so effective when the main trunks were rather stationary.
So billowing moss blood around their bases, waving willow leaf-esque fronds over their scarlet bark and trailing over the water.
The water I also needed to change, unfortunately.
The rrow showed I was being far too kind. For all my invaders, I'd given them such a choice of the environnt they wanted to peruse; with the fungal gardens, they could choose to stay on land with the shrimpy little rock pond I'd had before, and with this floor, there was a clear path to the ending where they could stay on land for all of it. At least until they needed to enter the canal to find the tunnel to the next floor, but still. Not exactly sothing that would let all my various creatures in the canal do their best work.
So I dug my mana into the listone and widened the canals.
Tricky work, considering all the dens that creatures had already claid in their walls, but eventually I managed to boost them out to a more proper river. Of the roughly ten rooms I had—including the massive one in the middle from my, ah, temper tantrum—I made it so three of them could only be traversed by entering the canal. One from the entire room being filled with water, one from the entrance to the next room being fully water, and one from a glorious little fallen stalactite like a felled tree blocking the land access.
If any prissy, too-good-for-water invaders wanted to rely take my creatures and leave, they'd have to get wet. And my truly flawless combo of the vampiric mangroves opening wounds and the silvertooths going into a blood-frenzy would nip that little problem in the bud.
Beyond terrain changes, I reached for my creatures; the ironback toad croaked and rose to attention in front of a den of his unevolved brethren, his battering ram face and iron-plated back blocking the entrance from a luminous constrictor frankly losing its mind as it tried to find a way past him. He needed to step up his ga and I took no qualms in telling him so; the kobold population was about to rapidly increase, and their favoured prey wasn't terribly great at defending themselves.
He accepted his mission with the sa honour and dignity as everything else in his life. Little suck-up.
The horned serpent raised her antlered head, digesting an electric eel she'd hunted; she hadn't made it to the water in ti to help with the rrow attack, lazy as she was, but she had seen the other constrictors slither in. The concept had stuck in her mind, ever since her first foray into water as she had crossed the rock pond to make it to the next floor.
Not to the level of the still-evolving silver krait, but I imagined she was still quite the aquatic predator. Her near fifteen feet of length and her psionic mana call ant few could resist her.
But if I was now going to let her hunt kobolds, that'd be competition.
Back when I'd been rather leery of creating any creature that took over a handful of points, I'd stuck to my three kobolds and focused on maintaining their number; no longer. I'd create as many as I could and let them run rampant. They weren't big enough to pose a serious threat to either the horned serpent or the bears upstairs, but their pack hunting would start to decimate what my creatures had previously taken as bountiful prey. Soon enough, they'd have to start hunting each other.
And oh, that would be a glorious sight to see.
She hissed, flicking her pale tongue out. Her antlers flashed with light. She uncurled from the nest she'd claid—one of the best in the dungeon, of course, sprawling with a fresh pool of water—and poked her grey-black head out, scanning her surroundings.
She'd figure it out. I had the utmost faith in her.
In terms of her twin evolution, the jeweled jumper was only imnsely happy at the thought of new prey. His constant movent and rich venom ant he was a gluttonous beast comparable to his size, and a kobold would be a few days worth of food. An excellent target.
With all that sorted, I gathered my roughly fifty points of remaining mana and started shaping kobolds.
My last three had all been fire-drake descendants. Theoretically fine, but that didn't exactly an I was pleased with it; sea-drakes were superior in every conceivable way and there were dozens of other subspecies that fit better with my mountain ho. I reached through my connection to the Otherworld and thought of deep places, cool water, coral fields–
The first kobold ca out the deep red of magma with igneous horns and claws. Fantastic.
I concentrated harder.
The next was a pale grey, shorter than his brethren but with pebbled scales like armour; stone-drake, presumably. Another ca out with the rich erald hue of the deep jungle, eyes a gleaming gold. One with twisting, layered horns like shards of glass and the pale silver colouration of ice-drakes, two with the pale blue scales and long limbs of the sky-drakes.
In the end, I had ten more kobolds; five were still fire-drake descendants, because of course, but I had a few new faces to explore. They all blinked, glancing at each other and running dull claws over their bodies with quiet awe.
A whole new world they were trapped in, full of dangers and mystery, but they were kobolds. They were rather used to being the smallest man.
With a tug of my mana, the other two kobolds erged around the corner to see their new siblings; the female with the branching horns who had always been more focused on discovering tools was the first to step forward, churring and chittering in the primitive, halfway draconic language they used. The male who had co up with the rat idea stayed to the side but he added a few words here and there as the leader kobold explained what was going on. A right little tribe they were building.
Within minutes, the leader—she was clearly already the chieftess, it wasn't a question—started leading the others back to their original den, the one I'd dug out for them. I paused.
I pushed a guiding thought into her mind. She cocked her head to the side but accepted it without question, leading them a different route—to the very last room and the den that Seros had once held.
He barely left the third floor anymore, and slept in my core room. He'd be fine without it.
I widened it to fit their new numbers, carving facsimile beds from stone with layered algae and tugging a tunnel from the river to drip steadily down the wall for water. A little paradise, if they could defend it.
Depending on the horned serpent's competitive streak and whether one of the lunar cave bears would be banished to the second floor, that was a monuntal if.
The first kobold stayed silent in my core room, Seros curled around her, still evolving. I doubted she'd end up in the tribe, too much of a lone wolf, but she'd probably still defend them. Her warrior instincts would need tests.
I couldn't wait to see her in action.
With my creatures handled, I darted back to the third floor; no ti like the present, even with my asly five points left, to start that salt plan. I couldn't just snap my taphorical fingers and make everything change to partial saltwater, unfortunately. My powers were awe-inspiring and majestic and incredible, but still rather limited.
What I could do, however, was find a small, most isolated corner of the floor and create a block of salt. A lumpy, misshapen chunk of pale white with a current running overhead; within seconds I could see the water tugging fine little grains off its surface and dispersing them to the wider world. Excellent.
I'd keep a close eye on it for salt levels, but worse ca to worse I could force all the salt back outside the ocean entrance and try again. I only needed a small amount of brackish water.
Hopefully I could keep it low enough that my terrestrial creatures could still drink it, but if they couldn't, I could just create little oases off the original river. It'd be fine.
Around the second floor, my creatures bustled around, adjusting to their new life and the circumstances with it—webweavers spun, kobolds planned, the horned serpent hunted. All a new wonder of life in my newly honed floor. Honestly a work of art. Subli genius, if I did say so myself.
Hmm. Art was normally nad, wasn't it?
I hadn't heard of dungeons naming their floors, but I had also never interacted with many dungeons before. Hells, I'd never so much as poked my snout in one before Calarata. But if I could Na my creatures, surely I could give a title to my floors?
I hoped it didn't absorb more of my mana.
My second floor glittered before , greater than any silver or jewels; the water, lapping quietly at the stone walls; the trees, both those alive and those clustering with spiders; the kobold tribe, those setting up the cave and those out hunting. All working in a beautiful tandem.
It ca down to water, and it ca down to the vampiric mangroves. The defining features, I felt; when the ti ca, I knew the kobolds would eventually migrate down into further levels, as while this space wasn't exactly cramped they would still be increasing at a very steady clip. Mangrove canals was far too boring,
Blood, maybe? Bloodwater canals? Or bitter?
I thought of Lady Luthia, the Bronze-ranked adventurer who had so easily bested my cave bear falling to the water, of the jeweled jumper leaping from tree to tree to strike from above. All of their prey fell down. Most of it was dragged to the canals.
The Drowned Forest.
Mana burst out of .
I felt the na settle in—not a Na, not like Seros, but a true title, rooting deep into the stone and laying claim to those within. The Drowned Forest, hideaway of murderous trees and fatal waters, land of death.
And then I felt a ssage scrawl across my core.
Congratulations! Your floor has attracted the attention of the gods.
So wish to beco the Patron of the Drowned Forest. Please choose from the boons they present.
What.
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