The great hall of Knighthelm felt unusually small that night, even with only a handful of people gathered. The hall rarely used. The stone walls kept the cold at bay, but the fire in the hearth seemed incapable of warming the tension that clung to every corner. Lars stood at the head of the long oak table, his shoulders squared but his gaze distant as he waited for the final representatives to arrive.

  The doors opened and Sir Darvish entered first, his boots leaving faint marks on the polished floor. Behind him came Scar, the village head closest to the mountain paths, followed by Andrei, who offered a measured nod as he stepped into the light. Three more representatives arrived shortly after, minor heads from settlements farther out, all bearing the windburned look of those who lived in the harsher outskirts.

  Those gathered today are all the Representatives that fall under Duke Nox and sections of the North.

  Lars gestured for them to sit. There were no servants present and no refreshments prepared. This was not a meeting for comfort.

  They took their seats quietly, each trading glances that said they understood the seriousness of the summons. After a brief silence, Lars spoke, his voice deep and steady.

  "I thank you all for coming so quickly. What we discuss tonight stays in this room until we have verified everything. The North has long been free of corruption. None of us have seen a corrupted beast in our lifetimes, and perhaps our grandparents barely remember the tales. But Sir Darvish and my son encountered something in the mountain tunnels today. I will let Darvish explain."

  All eyes turned to the knight. Darvish stepped forward, placing a parchment on the table but not bothering to open it.

  "A corrupted monster," he stated plainly. "A spider the size of a small horse, pitted with blackened chitin and veins that glowed with a sickly green bile. Its movements were unnatural. Its blood hissed into the stone. It attacked without hesitation, as if driven by an intelligence that did not belong to it."

  A few of the representatives shifted in their seats. One of the minor heads cleared his throat.

  "Corruption here? After so many quiet generations?"

  Scar rubbed his jaw with a slow motion. The scar that earned his name caught the firelight. "A single corrupted spider does not make sense. Are you telling me they are crossing the Frostwall? The mountain range is the protection we rely on from the monsters across that wall."

  Andrei placed his elbows on the table. "There hasn't been a single adventure group to traverse through the mountain in years. Who knows what is going on over there, unreported and uncontested.

  Darvish nodded. "Exactly. This was not a warped creature or a lone mutation. The corruption was old, settled in its flesh. The creature moved quick. Within an hour of the Vulpe Matriach deaths the Spider had moved in, probably a scout or looking somewhere to settle down for more of its kind to nestle in.

  Lars watched the room carefully. No one interrupted now.

  Darvish continued. "There is also a scent of corruption, faint but distinctive. A stench that sinks into the air. The tunnel carried that scent deeper within the mountain. Not a single creature’s trail. Something more."

  The minor head from the eastern settlement leaned forward, his brows tight. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"

  "I am suggesting the presence of a Corrupted Dungeon forming near our lands," Darvish said.

  A heavy silence washed over the table.

  Even Scar, who was known for his loudness, went still. The fire crackled. Someone exhaled sharply through their nose.

  Andrei broke the tension first. "A corrupted dungeon? I thought corrupted dungeons collapsed centuries ago. The old histories say the cold prevented them from taking root. Our warriors of old pushing back and eradicating all traces of corruption so none could take root again"

  "That is what the scholars believed," Lars said. "But belief does not shield us. If there is a dungeon forming, even a small one, it changes everything."

  Scar leaned forward. "Tell me exactly what you saw at the end of the tunnel. Every detail."

  Darvish took a moment to gather his thoughts. "There was an unnatural warmth, barely noticeable but out of place in the mountain depth. The stone felt slick in places, like something had passed through recently. And there were the remnants of webbing. Not natural spider silk. It shimmered with an oily sheen. When Lance touched it with mana, the threads pulsed as if responding."

  Andrei grimaced. "Dungeons are living things in their own way. Feeding. Growing. Shaping the monsters that reside within."

  One of the minor heads spoke next. "Sir Darvish, you said the corruption smelled deeper. Did it fade or intensify as you moved forward?"

  "It intensified," Darvish replied. "Steadily. While the tier 3 guard was no pressure to me, I had no way of knowing what else was around. In my lonesome I searched on the edges. The tunnel branches off into older veins that the dwarves abandoned long ago. If a dungeon is forming there, we cannot rely on dwarven records to show where it first appeared."

  Lars nodded. "Which means the source is within our borders. Possibly very close."

  The minor head from the west pinched the bridge of his nose. "My hunters mentioned unusual webs near the tree line last month. We thought it was just a growth of northern forest spiders. They are rare but not unheard of."

  Scar turned toward him sharply. "And you are just mentioning this now?"

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "It did not seem dangerous at the time," the man replied defensively. "The webs were large, yes, but they were not corrupted. Not yet."

  Not yet.

  The words lingered like frost on a blade.

  Lars addressed them all. "We need to focus on locating the source. If there is a dungeon forming, we must identify where the corruption is thickest. Corrupted Dungeons are different from our normal hunting dunegons. They eat into the land. They poison wildlife. They twist roots, stone, and air."

  Andrei raised a cautious finger. "Have any of your people reported strange animal behavior? Birds avoiding an area? Tracks that move in patterns that make no sense?"

  Scar answered first. "My northern hunters said the wolves have been avoiding the ridge for two weeks. They refuse to cross it. I thought it was due to storms. Now I doubt that."

  Another minor head spoke. "My settlement has seen an unusual number of dead hares. No wounds. No frostbite. They simply collapse. I sent for a mage healer but he has not arrived yet."

  Darvish’s gaze sharpened. "Animals sense corruption long before we do."

  A chill settled in Lars’s stomach.

  One corrupted spider would be frightening.

  Multiple signs across different settlements pointed to something far more dangerous.

  Darvish continued. "There is more. When the spider died, its abdomen split. Inside were egg sacs. Too many for a creature acting alone. But they were not ready to hatch. They were waiting. Growing. Infused with corruption that came from a deeper source."

  Scar sat forward. "Are you saying there is a Broodmother? A corrupted matriarch?"

  Darvish did not answer right away. When he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of hard experience.

  "A Corrupted Dungeon does not form without an anchor. Sometimes it is a rift. Sometimes a relic. But the most troublesome are anchored by a Broodmother. A creature that births corrupted monsters to guard the forming dungeon. If one has taken root near the mountain paths, then the spider you fought was a child. A scout. The true danger lies much deeper."

  Lars felt the room tense. He could see the dread grow behind the eyes of each representative.

  Andrei spoke softly. "A Broodmother would not reveal herself until the dungeon is nearly complete. If she is already producing children, she is protecting something important. Possibly the entrance would be my guess."

  Scar clenched his hands. "How long before more come crawling out of that tunnel?"

  Darvish shook his head. "There is no way to know. Could be days. Could be weeks, hell depending on how long the broodmother takes to birth it could be years, but once the dungeon stabilizes, corrupted monsters will spill outward much more aggressively."

  The minor heads exchanged anxious looks. Lars forced the room back into order.

  "We cannot afford panic. We must think strategically. First, we narrow down possible locations. Scar, your hunters know the ridge better than anyone. I want them to mark areas animals refuse to pass. Andrei, your settlement lies closest to the old dwarven canal routes. You will search for signs of mana disturbance or unnatural warmth along the outer caverns."

  Andrei nodded. "I can do that. My hunters are trained for tracking and have skills and classes to match."

  Lars turned to the three minor representatives. "Each of you will monitor your borders and send scouts. Quietly. No one outside this room learns of the dungeon until we know exactly where it is."

  Scar frowned. "You expect us to keep this from our people? If the threat grows stronger, they deserve to know."

  "They will know when it is time," Lars said firmly. "Until then, spreading rumor would only cause fear and error. The North survives because we act with discipline."

  The room held its silence long enough to make it clear they accepted his reasoning.

  Darvish spoke again. "When we locate the highest concentration of corrupted mana, I will lead a strike group into the tunnels. We must confirm the existence of the dungeon before we make any public decision. If a Broodmother is present, we must estimate her strength and the depth of the formation."

  The western representative swallowed. "And if she has already entrenched herself?"

  Darvish met his eyes. "Then we prepare for war beneath the stone."

  Lars drew in a long breath. "We will not use that word unless absolutely necessary. But the possibility is understood."

  “Has anyone notified the dwarves?” one of the representatives spoke up.

  “Not yet, I plan on heading to our outpost to the east and talking to the dwarfs there, let me them and see if we want to create a united front. After all from what we can tell, they may be using their old tunnels.”

  “Lastly, I will inform the Duke. Depending on his response he can send reinforcements if we deem the problem too great for us.”

  The hall nodded in agreement, while the possibility of a fledging Corrupted Dungeon being strong enough to contest with a Tier 5, several Tier 4s and a unit of Tier 3s from Lars milita the possibility still wasn't zero.

  No one argued.

  The meeting stretched on with detailed planning for scouting routes, signals, and safe escape paths in case corrupted monsters appeared above ground. Scar agreed to station lookouts along the cliff paths. Andrei would reinforce the southern tunnel mouths with light wards. The minor heads would create rotating messenger lines to ensure that any sighting could be reported to Knighthelm within hours.

  The fire burned low as the night deepened. One by one, they confirmed their tasks until the meeting reached its end.

  Scar rose first. He placed a hand on the table and looked Lars straight in the eye.

  "If there is a Broodmother hiding in those mountains, Baron, we will find her nest. But be prepared for what that means. My hunters may not return unharmed."

  Lars bowed his head in respect. "Your service honors the North."

  Andrei stood next, calm as always. "I will have my scouts ready by dawn. If the land is shifting, they will feel it."

  The minor heads followed, each giving their brief vow of support before stepping out of the hall.

  When only Darvish remained, Lars finally let the strain show in his voice.

  "Tell me honestly. Is it truly a Broodmother?"

  Darvish paused before answering. "I have read about the patterns before when we were in the academy. Not in the North, but in the central plains during the corruption wars. The signs match. The creature you and your son encountered was not wandering. It was guarding the path. And brood guardians never stray far from their mother."

  “Then what do we make of the Bile Spitters we encountered those few years ago?”

  I believe those are native to the dungeon as well, after all it wasn't all that far from the Matriachs cave where I found the Spider. What I do not have an answer for is why they never showed again. A dungeon can have several monster types, and these two so far both seem to enjoy being underground.”

  Lars stared into the dying fire. "Then the dungeon is already forming then, possibility for several years already.”

  "Yes," Darvish said. "And whatever lies at its center will not stop growing unless we cut out its heart."

  Lars closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of generations pressing upon him. No corrupted dungeons had touched the North in centuries. His ancestors had spoken of them with reverence and fear. Now he would be the one to face one rising beneath his lands.

  He opened his eyes.

  "Prepare your fighters. Quietly. We begin the search in a weeks time. Let the village heads and representatives do what they need too, when Scar gives his scouting report we move."

  Darvish bowed and left without another word.

  Lars stood alone in the hall as the fire burned to embers. Outside, the mountains loomed unseen beneath the night sky. Somewhere within their depths, a Broodmother stirred, guarding her unborn children, feeding on the mana of a forming dungeon.

  What worried him the most was not the corruption though, it was something he heard while on his travels as a soldier.

  Hard times create strong men.

  While his son gaining a legendary Class is a blessing, it also may be an omen.

  A Bad one.

  The North had been quiet for generations.

  But that peace had ended.

  And Lars would soon discover whether the North was ready for what slept beneath its stone.