“So, you’ve reached LV9?” Viktor asked.

  [Yes, Master.]

  “Show me your stats, then.”

  Path of the DungeonLV9Essence Point: 82/596Mana: 1,250Floors: 3/3Minions: 156/180Guardians: 1/1

  Skills:- Shape Terrain- Transmute Gold- Summon Lesser Minion LV6- Summon Water Minions LV2- Summon Greater Minions LV1- Summon Guardian

  He had 6,950 mana in total after the fight with Manfred’s party, which might have sounded like a rge amount, until he actually spent it. As it turned out, summoning five Cyclopes and ten Acolytes of the Deep alone had drained a staggering 4,000 from his reserves, and when combined with the cost of getting repcements for fallen minions and other expenses, he had burned through his resources much faster than expected.

  Fortunately, things had calmed down since that confrontation, and the dungeon practically ran by itself. After he pced the Cyclops under the staircase, the adventurers were basically stuck on the first floor. Only a few dared challenge the one-eyed monster. Some met swift and gruesome ends, while others quickly retreated. Thus, since Manfred, no one had reached the water realm again, and the Acolytes had not been called into action even once.

  In return, Viktor had tossed a few more shiny rewards throughout the first floor. Enough glitter to keep them interested, but not enough to make them grow zy. So they continued to rush in. A few returned with piles of gold, others empty-handed, and some, well, ended up being part of the scenery in the disposal pit.

  Now that Clovis’s deal was effectively dead and the discussion surrounding Gideon’s murder had fizzled out, the main topic in the Guild had shifted to more practical matters. Namely, how to kill the Cyclops and get to the riches beyond. Even Cedric’s party was also talking about taking on the brute just the other day.

  But then, that was the nature of adventuring. People who were driven by their thirst for wealth, fame, or the thrill of overcoming impossible obstacles put their lives on the line to get what they wanted. And as the Dungeon Master, it was his job to give them the appropriate challenges and rewards.

  “Let me check the skill Summon Lesser Minion,” Viktor said.

  [Yes, Master.]

  Summon Lesser Minion LV6:

  Spend 100 mana to summon one of the following:- 5 Goblins- 3 Dread Spiders- 4 Venom Spiders- 4 Froglings- 3 Gremlins- 2 Gnolls

  “Gnolls?” Viktor chuckled. He wondered how Noi’ri would react when he had to face his brethren. Well, considering that he was a Silver-ranked adventurer, he most likely had already fought them many times in the past. The kids, however, had never set foot in a dungeon before arriving in Daelin, and they were born and raised in Beryn, where gnolls lived alongside them as friends and neighbors. Now that would certainly be an interesting sight to witness.

  Putting that aside, gnolls were well-known as savage warriors, proficient with a wide range of weapons, from axes and swords to spears and bows. So if he could provide them with the right equipment, they would become the backbone of his dungeon, and the goblins could be gradually phased out.

  “Celeste, I’ve told you to set up a workshop for the gremlins. How’s it going?”

  [It has been completed. Kazyk and his team have moved in and begun their work.]

  Viktor nodded. “Good. Teleport me there.”

  The workshop was located on the second floor, but there was no direct access to it from that level. Instead, it was connected to the network of secret tunnels on the first. This design made sure that only small-sized creatures, like goblins or gremlins, could get in and out, transporting raw material as well as finished products, while keeping the workshop hidden and protected from any unwanted visitors.

  In an instant, the world around him shifted. He found himself inside a rge room, with long wooden tables stretching from wall to wall, cluttered with a variety of weapons, tools, and strange contraptions. Every ft surface was buried under piles of metal and madness, and anything that didn’t fit had been shoved onto the floor. He recognized Manfred’s mithril rapier leaning against the wall, next to some barbed harpoons belonging to the merfolk.

  “Master.”

  The gremlin boss was already standing before him, bowing respectfully.

  “Kazyk, it’s good to see you again,” Viktor said. “It seems your people have already settled in. How do you find this pce?”

  “It’s perfect, Master. It feels just like home.”

  Actually, this pce was far from what he would call comfortable. Despite the room’s considerable size, every avaible space was crammed with something, be it crates, parts, tools, or sweating gremlins. Custrophobic didn’t begin to describe it. And the smell here was terrible. It reeked of scorched metal, rotten leather, spilled oil, and sulfur sharp enough to sting the eyes. They all rolled up together, conspired with each other to choke the breath out of his throat. Then there were the sounds. All the hammering, cnging, and angry little creatures yelling in each other’s faces. He wouldn’t want to be here longer than necessary. Still, he walked through the room, passing row after row of long tables, eyes scanning the various items on top.

  While Celeste could reshape the terrain at will to create rooms and floors of the dungeon, it couldn’t produce any materials, except for the gold used to reward the adventurers. So the only weapons and armor avaible were those the creatures had brought with them when summoned, or what had been pried off the still-warm bodies of the ones who had come to find glory, only to meet a grisly end instead.

  With no way to craft new equipment, the only option was to modify and upgrade what was avaible. Goblins, merfolk, and other dungeon dwellers had already done this on their own, repurposing their old gear or scavenging new ones from the dead. But now, Viktor wanted to centralize the process. Everything would be brought here to be repaired and refined by the gremlins, the masters of tinkering, before being distributed back to the frontline soldiers. This was also the better way to use these creatures, instead of having them fight the adventurers directly.

  He eyed a pile of steel ptes nearby. He wondered whether these pieces had once been part of Redhead’s equipment, or perhaps the heavy armor worn by the bearded warrior who was killed by the Cyclops several weeks ago. In any case, both were dead and gone, their flesh either consumed by a certain Crocodilian or left to rot in the pit, and their fancy gear had been broken down and reduced to scrap. The ptes would now be reforged into several smaller suits of armor for the goblins. They might not be the most aesthetically pleasing, but they would work well enough.

  Kazyk walked beside Viktor, his small hands csped behind his back, eyes sparkling with excitement as he watched his master survey the fruits of his hard work. When they arrived at a table, the gremlin pointed at a peculiar tube resting among the other items.

  “Master, this is a new idea we’ve come up with. We can use these to immobilize and trap the intruders.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s very simple, actually,” Kazyk expined, grinning. “We extract the silk from the Dread Spiders and stuff it inside the tube. There’s a mechanism that allows it to be shot out like a projectile. Essentially, it’s no different from what the spiders themselves unch to ensnare their prey. But now, anyone can do it.”

  Interesting idea. Dread Spiders could only shoot their silk three times per day, and on days when there was no fighting, it went to waste. But now, their silk could be extracted when they weren’t using it, allowing the dungeon to store up a rge amount of “ammunition.” This opened up many new tactical possibilities. For example, a mass volley of coordinated fire could be devastating in certain situations. And these weapons could be used by anyone, goblins, merfolk, or the soon-arriving gnolls, making them highly versatile.

  “And this...” Kazyk reached for a different item on the table.

  “A mace?”

  “Yes, but not just any normal mace,” the gremlin said, and without any further expnation, he swung the thing hard.

  The spiked head of the mace promptly detached with a violent snap, flying off the handle and revealing it had been attached by a chain now whipping through the air like an angry snake. The metal ball hurtled across the workshop and crashed into a table, turning all of its contents into airborne debris. Tools, weapons, and parts cttered onto the floor, bounced off the walls, skidded across the room. The other gremlins stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide in shock as they stared at the ball, the ruined table, and the wreckage beneath it.

  “Nice destruction,” Viktor said. “But would you mind expining what, exactly, you were trying to do here?”

  “Well,” Kazyk said, scratching his head. “As you can see, the chain is coiled inside the handle. Normally, it works like your average mace. Just swing, and smash. But there’s a switch here, which allows you to release the ball mid-swing. In other words, the mace would suddenly gain both extra range and power. A very unpleasant surprise for anyone on the receiving end, ideally your intended target.”

  “Ideally. But tell me, how can you make sure that the ball will hit your foe and not, I don’t know, your own face, or your friends, or the pilr that supports the room you happen to be in?”

  “The wielder will need to train to get familiar with the weapon and learn to use it effectively. But... there’s still some luck involved, though.”

  “Of course. Luck. The essential part of every great pn.”

  That was gremlin for you. These creatures could look like geniuses for a moment, only to shock you with their insanity in the next. Even though his minions couldn’t hurt him on purpose due to their contracts with the dungeon, accidents could still happen. Perhaps this would be the st time he ever visited this workshop.

  “There’s no need to complicate things. Let’s keep it simple,” Viktor said. “If you want to make stronger weapons, you could... well, for example, coat them with poison or something.”

  “Poison? Ah yes, of course,” Kazyk said, rubbing his chin. “We can extract poison from the Venom Spiders and put it on the weapons, just like...” As if he had recalled something, he turned to Viktor. “I heard that you’ve used the vial I gave you st time. How was it, Master? Did it work as you expected?”

  “You’ve done an excellent job, Kazyk. You have no idea how much your contribution means to this dungeon.”

  The gremlin grinned. “I’m gd you like it. Do you need more, Master? I still have some here.”

  “No need,” Viktor replied. He had gotten rid of the vial and the needle, to make sure that no one could find out the connection between him and Gideon’s murder. “Destroy what you have left. If you’re going to make poisoned weapons, use the extracted poison as it is. Do not condense it.”

  If they kept using the enhanced version, sooner or ter, someone would notice that the adventurers dying in the dungeon succumbed to the same poison that killed Gideon, and would start asking questions. Of course, that wasn’t enough to suggest the dungeon was involved in the Guildmaster’s death, let alone trace it back to him. But it was always better to be safe than sorry. He needed to make certain there were no lingering issues that could come back to haunt him ter.

  Kazyk looked puzzled by the decision, but he nodded. “Understood, Master.”

  Looks like I’ve seen everything in the workshop. It was time to get out of here, before another gremlin decided to test its new invention.