Chương 59: Outsourcing

As soon as Angie made it back home, rather than returning to her master and turning in the herbs that had been collected, Angie raced back to the house she shared with her family. While Mabel claimed to be a shaman and encouraged people to ask for her to tell their fortunes, Angie knew that it was all fake. However, that did not mean that Angie believed that everything that Mabel did was fake, but rather that the old shaman had no idea how to do such things properly.

The first thing she did was grab a cup of tea, bones from a recent meal, and a bowl of water. It was still midday, so she would have to wait for the stars to come out, but those were the four standard methods that Mabel had taught Angie to scam the other villagers. She focused inwards, trying to feel what the dungeon had changed inside of her when granting her those powers it called Concepts. She was certain that the power of time could let her see the future, and she would do whatever it took to see that happen.

Walter had been a knight in service of his king for two decades before being dismissed by the noble ruler's boorish son and his waspish wife. Not knowing what else to do with his time and skills, he had decided to dedicate himself to protecting the priests and priestesses of Hedon, the god of healing, as they traveled to the various towns and villages throughout the Kingdom of Erdon and the neighboring nations.

The healers were bound by their oaths to heal all who required their skills, but this meant that there were many who wished to take advantage of their oath. There had been instances when healers had been captured by enemy nations or even by bandits and forced to heal while imprisoned. Their oaths to their god to heal all who required their skills meant that so long as someone was in front of the healer and needed treatment, they were required to heal them.

For this reason, the healers had started to travel with protectors who would keep them safe and also help them to avoid situations where they would need to heal people who the world was better off without. Walter had great respect for the healers, even if he did find their oaths to be foolish. The good that the selfless men and women accomplished in their service to Hedon always amazed the former knight, and if he was being honest, he envied their abilities.

It was so much better to save a life than to take it, even if Walter understood there was a need for his own abilities. There was too much evil in the world. There were nine other warriors escorting the three healers to their next destination. Unfortunately, the only way to reach the Prindel Province was by passing through the Howling Mountains, which were known for hiding bandits. Normally, each healer would only have a single protector, but to pass through the mountains, the church had insisted on more.

Unfortunately, the recent plague in the province meant that the healers were in a hurry, so other than Walter, all of the other guards were relatively young and inexperienced. In fact, Walter was certain that he was the only guard who was over level 30, let alone anything better than that. Given the fact that Walter had reached level 73, he felt that he was essentially working with children, and he was very worried at how effective the other guards would be when they were attacked.

After all, in the Howling Mountains, it was a matter of when, not if. Sure enough, they were attacked on the third day, just before they were ready to make camp for the day. The bandits knew their business, attacking when everyone was tired and their guards were lowered. The only better time to attack was after second watch at night, when everyone was sleeping the heaviest. Walter's sword was out even as the tree was still falling across the trail, his shield grabbed from where it hung on the side of his horse.

Unfortunately, the other guards were much slower to react, and their horses were startled by the commotion. Horses reared and whinnied, though luckily, the tree fell far enough ahead of the travelers that no one was hit by the branches. As soon as the tree was falling, Walter heard the snap of a rope being cut and the twang of bows. A second cut tree fell across the trail behind them, and arrows were already cutting down the other guards. Screams rang out from men and horses, as well as the priestess.

Walter was already moving, placing himself between the attackers and his charges.

"Ivan, Blake! Get on the other side! Owen, Robert, get the wounded over here!" A bit of order returned from the chaos as Walter shouted out commands. Unfortunately, two of the guards were clearly already dead, and five of the horses were down, dead or crippled. It would be impossible to escape from the ambush with the beasts, and trying to send the healers on ahead would only condemn them to death or capture deeper in the mountains. Walter's frustration mounted.

He knew he would survive this battle, just as he did all of them. That was what his skills gave him: survivability. Still, what good would that do him if everyone else was dead? If only he could share his survivability with his companions. If only he could grant them his strength. Anger and frustration fed into him, touching something that Walter had never understood how to use. Years had passed, and he had basically forgotten the Concepts he had been awarded after helping the former king on a dungeon delve.

Order and stability were such vague Concepts, and Walter did not understand either of them at all, even after eight years with them. At this moment, various emotions, skills, Concepts, abilities, and experiences merged within Walter, and his Ethereal Shield ability suddenly spread out from his own body, not to his shield, but to surround and encompass the people he was protecting.

Virgil had been so excited when a mage had finally moved to the village. She had chosen their village due to the fact that they had a dungeon nearby, but had also recently gained access to a gate that led to something simply known as the Tower. The Tower could only be accessed by those who were chosen, but all who went there returned changed drastically.

Years could pass within the tower while days passed in the village, and the knowledge and training available there could not be matched by any nation or empire in the world. The mage wanted to take advantage of that knowledge, despite never having been chosen to enter the Tower. She also refused to speak to Virgil, due to his caste and job. As for Virgil, he had inherited his uncle's blacksmith shop, and while he loved working with metal, Virgil yearned to learn magic.

The idea of controlling powers like fire and lightning was more exciting than anything else the blacksmith could think of, and he even allowed his dreams of magic to inspire his work. This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. He had started making some works in his spare time that were his own, and he made blades that he tried to make look like flames, spearheads that he tried to make look like ice, arrowheads that could strike like lightning.

One day, Virgil thought he would try something different. Instead of make a blade that looked like a flame, he would etch the flame into the blade. As he worked, his mind was pushed into a unique state where he felt as though he was guided by the universe, rather than guiding his own hands. Unconsciously, he tapped into the Concepts he had been awarded in his youthful treks into the dungeon, and stability and space showed him the shape of the magic he wanted to draw.

Aaron had no idea how many centuries he had lived as the master of the dungeon. For that matter, he was not even sure if it was correct to say that he had lived, given that he had not had a real body for nearly that same amount of time. So long as the stone that held his soul remained safe, Aaron was able to come back again and again, no matter how many of his bodies were destroyed. However, throughout the ages that Aaron had been active, never once had he felt so enraged.

These Ascendants of the Tower had decided that Aaron's dungeon was evil and needed to be destroyed. They were not only shattering his skeletons, slaughtering his zombies, and dismembering his ghouls, they had found a way to use some mysterious combination of magic that prevented Aaron from reclaiming and reusing any of his fallen minions. Some of those minions had been with Aaron for centuries, and Edgar the Fifth had been so close to developing a mind of his own before he had been put down.

Fortunately, Edgar the Sixth was showing similar promise. Aaron simply needed to give Edgar the time he still needed. Level by level, the people who called themselves "Ascendants" descended through Aaron's mountain, leaving nothing but utter destruction in their wake. They were simply too powerful for Aaron's minions. He needed some way to weaken them. Finally, it was time that he could take personal action.

As Aaron had gained power, he had also been given corresponding limitations, and he was forbidden to take action in the first layers of the dungeon when there were visitors. Aaron had once loved to have visitors, but given how rude and uncouth they always were, he no longer enjoyed having guests. It was much better to try to perfect the latest generation Edgar. His soulstone hidden, Aaron moved out. Edgar the Sixth was placed to protect the stone, while the rest of the Edgars moved with Aaron.

Maybe some of them should have different names… The archer Edgars were already in position, but the sword and shield Edgars moved with Aaron, and the mage Edgars would follow behind. Each floor that Aaron moved up, another restriction fell upon him. His spells became limited, the amount of magic he was allowed to access decreasing. Eventually, he was only able to actively direct his minions, as he was unable to use any of his active spells or skills.

"There it is! That's the lich that rules this dungeon!"

"Careful! Don't rush. There are at least a hundred skeletons with him, and more are coming in behind. Some of them look like they can use magic, which we haven't seen before. We can't rush."

"Shove off, Brolin! None of the undead we've seen in this dungeon have been any threat at all. These ones aren't going to be any different."

"Sam, if you rush forward, I swear I'll tell Jackie to stop healing you. I won't let your bull-headedness put the rest of us at risk." A shaggy man with two axes flushed red, clearly trying to restrain himself from saying anything further or recklessly charging into the horde of skeletons.

"Greetings, guests. I'm sorry for the cold welcome, but I really must insist that you leave now. You've harmed some of my friends so badly that I won't be able to bring them back anymore, and so you are no longer welcome here." Aaron had learned his lesson years ago, and so several shield Edgars stood in front of him whenever he addressed visitors.

"The lich can talk? I don't remember hearing about that."

"Doesn't matter what's changed, Sam. We cleanse this place regardless."

"But Brolin, it talks. It'd be rude to not at least listen." Brolin, another man, and two women all stared at Sam. None of them could understand the man's logic, though they also found it incredibly difficult to argue with him.

"Well, at least one of you has some manners, though you've all been quite rude thus far. I really must insist you leave. You've made such a mess of my home that I have quite a bit of cleaning to do now, and I really can't entertain you any longer." Aaron was quite happy to learn that at least one of the visitors understood a bit of propriety.

"I don't suppose you might be willing to die with your skeletons instead, would you? Well, die and not come back? We were sent here to make sure that the dead stay dead. Quite a few people find it rude that you use the bones of their dead loved ones."

"Ah, I see. I can't really understand that, as I find the opposite to be quite rude. After all, you and your friends are preventing me from bringing back my beloved Edgars." As Sam spoke with the skeletal lich, his companions grew increasingly perturbed by the exchange. The two were completely in sync, and seemed to understand each other perfectly. Even if that was a benefit for communicating with the lich, it left everyone quite disturbed over the implications at play regarding their own companion.

As the conversation continued, Brolin finally regained his wits and started positioning the others and having them prepare to renew the assault. After all, there was no reason not to take advantage of the lich's distraction.

"Well, I believe that we find ourselves at a bit of an impasse. Tell me, young man, how do you suggest that we proceed?" Aaron was quite curious to see what the burly man might propose.

"To be honest, I don't see any way forward other than for us to fight it out. You want to bring the dead back, while we've been sent here to make sure they stay dead. I can't see any way for us to both get what we want, so I think we're going to have to fight it out. What do you think?" Sam appeared to be genuinely interested in the lich's response, much to Aaron's delight. It had been far too long since he had been able to speak with anyone other than Edgar, and none of the Edgars were a good conversationalist.

"I believe you may be right. In that case, when should we conclude this argument? While we could do it right now, I believe everyone would enjoy a bit of rest, no?" Even as the lich was asking the question, Brolin was gesturing for Sam to start the attack, only for the ax-man to completely ignore their leader.

"Unfortunately, I think my friends would prefer to start now, so I'll have to say no. You have our thanks for being so understanding, but we're going to have to crush your army now." Aaron felt a tiny flicker of disappointment, as he had simply been hoping to prolong the conversation. At the same moment that the man finished speaking, he and three others started attacking Aaron's minions, wiping out dozens of the most powerful sword and shield Edgars in an instant.

Suppressing his disappointment, Aaron prepared to direct his army to repel the invaders, as they were no longer visitors. However, before he could send any orders at all, Edgar the Sixth entered the chamber. The sight both thrilled and terrified Aaron. He was thrilled, as the fact that Edgar had disobeyed a direct order meant that the minion had finally risen from being a mere minion to having a mind of his own.

The terror came from the fact that the newly arrived Edgar instantly became the target of the invaders, and a spear of blazing fire pierced Edgar's skull less than a moment before a burst of healing energy surged out and purified the bones so that Aaron could never use them again. Another minion fell from enemies being too strong. Aaron's madness, loss, and fury spiked, and he pushed against the limitations that had been placed upon him.

With his power unable to rise further, it spread out, reaching new avenues that had never appeared before. All of the lich's hate fused with his desire to preserve his minions and weaken his enemies. The Concepts of space and chaos empowered that desire, and the lich cursed his enemies, weakening the dungeon's invaders.

The core was surprised at how much progress it was making by allowing mortals to test various combinations of Concepts. Learning that things like astrology, fortune telling, runes, auras that could offer buffs to allies or curses to enemies, and many other abilities and types of spells started to appear, and, naturally, the core started to further disseminate those beyond their originators.

Fusing Concepts and combining them in new manners led to all kinds of developments, and the core was finding multiple new things to explore and experiment with. Additionally, it was time to once again attempt to reach out to a kaiser dragon or a primordial phoenix to investigate what other creatures who stood at the same level as the core were capable of. Who could say what sort of things such creatures had come up with throughout the eons.