DD5 ~ Chapter 11!

I had just been given an interesting plant as a gift from the first Wood Elf I had ever seen. I really wanted to eat her to see what the difference was between the subsets of Elves, but she didn’t stick around. Next time. The plant was a complicated herb that had some seriously potent medicinal properties, but that wasn’t even why I was so excited about it. 

The main plant could absorb corruption from the air, cleaning and purifying it. Its roots had structures on them that allowed the plant to release the earth corruption it was taking out of the air, and the rest of the corruption was used to boost its growth and properties. This sounded similar to standard plants, but this one was way more effective. I’d say it produced clean air at least fifty times as efficiently as another plant its own size.

The first thing that I did with this miraculous plant was to freshen up my dungeon. There's only so much that regular ferns can accomplish when you get deep enough into the dungeon. Within hours the monsters roaming around or breathing deeper, actually physically strengthened by the clean and fresh air. I was worried that anyone throwing a fireball around would be up to twice as strong as usual, but I think that the trade-off was worth it.

Next, I pulled a sample of the plant into my soul space and started planting it in unobtrusive locations. Not only would this help to generate new air, but when people did start arriving, I assumed that the quality of air would drop precipitously. This would help to mitigate that factor, and it was a timely addition to my collection. I took some time to roam around, inspecting the area and watching the earth seemed to slowly creep upward on the horizon. It was very fun to watch, very pretty, and if it had been anything or anywhere else it would have been very disturbing to see this happen.

A thought crossed my mind, and if I would have had a brow it would have furrowed. I had not increased in rank, even with the massive gains of Essence, Mana, and the rapid expansion of my soul space. I was doing everything I had been instructed was needed, I had more energy than any other being at my level: I was positive of this fact. So, why was I not increasing in ranking? I thought back over conversations and my personal studies. I knew that higher tiers of power required greater amounts of understanding and energy to advance... was the difference truly this drastic? 

I looked at the amounts of energy I was taking in. No matter how I looked at it, I could not be taking in enough energy yet even to keep up with even a fraction of what the world produced. While my Ley lines had certainly changed and regulated the flow of power in the world, it was not like I was taking all of that in at once. Was there a better way to collect the power? As powerful as I was, I was still taking in nearly as much energy as I could handle at once, every second of every day. Even still, I was always able to take in refined energies from anyone who had fallen within my influence.

Perhaps that was the key to this. Currently I was taking in as much raw energy as my Core could handle. Was there a way to process, to refine, to make better in any way my raw consumption? This led me to a chilling thought: dungeons were absolutely stuffed with refined Essence and Mana. I had very little issues with any dungeon core that I had been fed, but what if I was not the first to realize this? What if dungeons as a construct were created for that Express purpose, to feed some greater being?

If that were the case... well, even if it were what would change for me? I would want to grow stronger? Find a better place to hide? I had all of that, and of my contingency plans, already set. How could I use this information to my own advantage? Every Core that I encountered in the past I had already either befriended or eaten. The only thing that really concerned me was that everything I had encountered so far was always lower rank than I was. 

It could be that the world had hundreds or thousands of dungeons, and that they were simply deeper than my effects could reach. If I had time, I would eventually find them. Most likely, it would either end up as a fight or an uneasy coexistence. Or! Or, similar to Kantor, there could be stronger dungeons that simply were not on the surface of the planet, or even below it, like me... they could be flying. There was a scary thought.

I shook myself mentally, getting out of this tangent of thought. This planet had roughly three weeks remaining of non-destruction. Frankly, the reality was that I would likely never have to worry about encountering a stronger dungeon or dungeon-munching being. What I did need to consider and work on was passing through the A-ranks and achieving S-rank. Unfortunately... I felt my cultivation one more time before sighing. That was going to be a long way off unless something drastically changed.

~ Dale ~

Tom grunted in pain as the whip came down on his side. It was moving oddly, nearly slowly, and seemed to caress his body like a lover as it tore open a fresh line for blood to pour out of. Tom had been moving between grunting, silence, and screaming for hours at this point. The only interlude from the beatings he was taking was when a new Implement was chosen to use on him, or when he was force-fed his own dripping blood.

“All you need to do to make this stop is admit that you cannot actually control yourself.” The whip wielder told Tom for the umpteenth time. “Just let your base instincts take over. Show us the animal that we all know is in there. Show us the Berserker waiting inside of you.”

Dale was nearly sick again as he looked around the antechamber at the approving nods of the people who had gathered to watch. Apparently, there was some form of Runic system in place that allowed others far distant to observe what was happening as well. Dale could not reconcile was he saw here with the absolute stark beauty and advanced magical systems he had seen since he had arrived.

He had no idea how this people had been so mislabeled. To call them Barbarians, to scoff at their lack of advancement and militaristic society... it was obvious that their methods of hiding information were effective. Then, watching Tom being beaten, whipped, and healed slightly just so they could restart the process again and again? The dichotomy of this nation was making his head spin. Dale looked down at his friend, who was doing his best to hold himself up proudly even though his arms were tied to posts far above him. There had been several times where Tom had fallen and been forced to rely on the bindings to keep him upright, but he always got back to his feet under his own power.

“I say once again, I have defeated the affliction.” Tom somehow Managed to say this calmly, even if his words were broken by gasping for breath. “Outside of our own nation, this is such a common affliction that the treatment for it can be found with any who teach their students how to control fire. It is seen simply as a common risk of those with affinity for the flame. It is treated as such, just as a burn on the skin would be, with just as easy of a solution.”

For the first time since he had started this process, he got an actual response to his small speech. The man whipping him steps forward, “So you say. How thoroughly is this tested? We know the weak ways of Outsiders, how they coddle their children, how they do not temper themselves. Can you tell me that they have dug as deep as we have? Can you point at any of them who would test for the madness as thoroughly as we? If so, swear it upon your honor and we will be done with this. If not, stop trying to sway us with the words of a coward.”

“How is he being cowardly?” Rose whispered, burying her face into Han’s shirt.

The man with the whip waited a moment, watching Tom's face. When the young man did not respond, he simply nodded and resumed his position. A moment later, the whip landed on yielding flesh once more. This continued for hours longer, deep into the night before Tom's arms were suddenly released from their binding. He fell to the floor, unable to support his own weight. The hairiest healer Dale had ever seen stepped forward and closed any wounds that were life-threatening.

“All we have determined from this is that you have a high pain tolerance now. Possibly that you have somehow been able to find a way to resist the taste of your own blood tearing at your mind.” a man nearly as large as the warlord had stepped on the stage and approached Tom. “Now, we are going to take a look at you, and determine if you have been bound by another. If so, if you have not actually come this far under your own power-”

“Sir, I have no fear. I have nothing to hide, please commence the process.” Tom was slapped across the face hard enough to send him reeling. Interrupting an officer was always a bad idea, but Tom knew that the lecture the man was giving typically took a full ten minutes. It alternated between threats, bribes, compromises, all in an attempt to force the person on trial to give in to their baser instincts.

“Your impertinence knows no bounds.” The huge man stated coldly. “You have picked up the bad habits of the weak, of the lazy, of the undisciplined. It may be better for you and for us all, if you simply give in and allow us to simply put your name on the list of those that died with their honor intact. That is the deal I have been authorized to offer. Your exile will be posthumously revoked, and your body will be placed in the halls of the honored dead. What say you?”

Tom was silent far too long for Dale's comfort. It was obvious that he was seriously considering the deal. Finally, he shook his head. “No. As much as I do not fear dying for my people, I have made it my purpose in life to live for my people and to help them live on as well. I feel that I will not be able to-” 

A second slap across the face cut off Tom's impromptu speech. “Maggot, you will answer in the future with a simple yes or no! Binders, begin the process!”