Year 158
“The peace we have today is one won by blood.” Edna explained to the young Valthorns. “The order we have today is held together by the bones of those who fell defending it. Peace demands blood. Order demands bones. The question is simply, are you ready to give your blood and bones for the cause.”
The entire blood and bones analogy was a little too much, and felt a bit like a blood mage or a necromancer trying to win others to their cause.
But it seemed to work for hot blooded young folks. Even the naturally calm treefolk seemed taken by the whole sacrifice schtick. In every generation, in every batch, there is a mix of dispositions, some more reserved, some more passionate.
As the one they would ultimately fight for, it’s my role to identify those who’s fire will keep burning, and burn brighter for decades to come. Based on what I’ve seen so far, there’s no real clear personality indicators to suggest which type of person will remain passionate and loyal to the cause for years to come. Instead, what we noticed is loyalty tends to be accumulated over the decades via little events, and events that increase loyalties for some individuals, do not increase them for others.
The young ones all practiced, and Edna adjusted their pose. I asked her to help with training, simply because they would just naturally level faster when someone of a significantly higher level is advising them.
Renewal is a constant, neverending affair. Just as a deciduous tree repeatedly grows after each winter.
“Class, today, we have Roon and Evin, two of our senior Valthorns! They’ll be providing guidance on archery, and fighting with weapons!”
Students grow and turn to teachers. Teachers change. A new generation takes over, hopefully, better than the ones that came before.
“Roon, is a Level 64 [Aeonic Sharpshooter], and Evin, a Level 61 [Champion Gladiator].” Edna introduced them. They were just as nervous as the kids. Roon was once among them, 15 years ago. Somehow, to return and be one of the teachers was a stressful affair. Kids.
Edna patted them both on the back.
“You’ll do fine. Just relax, have a cup of herbal tea if you need it.” She smiled at the two younger folks. Roon is a typical elf orphan, while Evin is a female half-dwarf who capitalised on her exceptional strength to win multiple arena battles, thus earning the Champion title. The Valthorns are allowed to compete in competitions, but only a limited number. So internally, within the Valthorns, there is a mini-competition before they even get to participate.
This is because we didn’t want to flood every competition with Valthorn Initiates, with our dedicated training and high levels. Yet, we do want a presence in these competitions where there are large spectator groups, so we want our good candidates to perform well and help improve our reputation. That said, our best-of-the-best never participate, and there is an internal rule that only those below Level 50 can participate in competitions.
I do think it’s a bit silly, but if the level of competition increases in the future, the level cap will be revised accordingly.
The two new trainers were uncomfortable at best. It was hard to connect with young children, it took effort, and practice to know how to speak and get young kids to listen and do things. Even if the Valthorn recruits were already a preselected crop.
-
The dungeons opened, and the Valthorns attempted them. The dungeons have some rules, despite the domain powers. For example, my ‘view’ of the dungeon is always delayed. I can only see what happened after each team completed their run of the dungeon, whether they failed, or they succeeded. Secondly, I can tweak the dungeon’s settings, but I have no ability to use my powers inside the dungeons.
It’s like I have a RNG dungeon generator, and I’m playing an idle game where I send teams out on expeditions and hope they succeed.
Patreeck was quick to generate a mathematical model though. After like 10 to 20 rounds of attempts, he already could estimate the chances of success for the dungeon, based on the squad strength.
-
The return of dungeons to the continent also brought a new lobbying group. Adventurers.
“We wish to petition Aeon for access to the new dungeons.” Adventurers wanted dungeons. After the borders were loosened, there actually was a ‘brain drain’ where adventurers left the Central continents for the other continents.
This was simply because there were no dungeons, and if there were no dungeons, adventurers had little chance of striking it rich by fighting a dungeon and earning a high tier reward. They were nothing more than monster hunters. Dungeons were a crucial element in the adventurer ecosystem, and previously, the adventurers had to suffer in silence, since, well, the borders were closed. They were not going to get themselves killed by travelling to a continent that killed anyone that came from the Central continent.
Not anymore.
The guild masters were quick to band together and demand the dungeons for the adventurers. Or at least, shared ‘slots’ where adventurers could attempt those dungeons for themselves.
It was a point I discussed with the Valthorns consistently, and after a while, we had a ‘carve-up’ system.
Certain dungeons were marked at Valthorn-only, and certain dungeons were free-for-all. Valthorns were free to join the adventurers on raids, and form their own parties.
“A 15% tax on all earnings is too high.” The Guild masters then shifted onto issue of taxes on dungeon-rewards.
“25% was the initial number, I believe.” Kavio walked.
The guild masters gulped but then presented that there’s actually at least a two-layer tax. Under most local and regional laws, dungeon earnings were subject to taxes at the local nation level. That meant adventurers had to pay a tax to the local state, and also to the Valthorns.
“Higher profits will allow the adventurers to get better gear and fight better. If Aeon’s goal is to get strength, please, consider supporting the adventurers’ in their pursuit of personal growth.”
I was rather torn. The taxes helped support the Valthorns, and the Valthorns do have a lot of spending. But I also agreed that for folks that risked their lives for money, a high tax does feel like bad taste.
“We recommend a door tax. A per-entry tax.” The guildmasters naturally preferred a flat tax, since all the potential upside accrued to the adventurers.
Kavio looked over the proposal. “We’ll submit this proposal for further discussion.”
-
“We’re running at a marginal surplus at the moment.” The Chief of the Valthorn’s financial and accounting records was Chancellor Brandak, a Treefolk Merchant turned Lord. He was the fourth treefolk [Aeonic Lord] after Kraveik, but soon found a home in the massive Valthorn machinery as our de-facto CFO.
The Valthorns’ bookkeeping function was frankly a mess as we expanded quickly, and we had revenue sources throughout the entire continent. Compiling income and expenditure reports on a continental scale was a challenge, and continued to be a challenge. This was despite my [artificial souls] monitoring all the transactions throughout the continent.
Simply put, there were simply far too many transactions at any given day, for artificial minds to keep up with, and over time, their role shifted to that of ‘auditors’, where they merely observed the practices of the Valthorns on a sampling basis. The complexity of revenue had also increased, as with the multiple layers of taxes and jurisdictions.
Brandak’s advise seemed to concur with the guild masters. “It would be administratively easier for us if we just impose a door tax. That way, we don’t have to calculate the adventurers’ earnings and participate in the highly subjective matter of valuing artifacts and salvaged equipment. As it is, we do spend quite a bit of money maintaining valuers and appraisals.”
Kavio, was on the other side. “Marginal, Chancellor Brandak. We could use the money for more recruitment.”
“A reasonably higher door tax would pretty much equalise our take from the dungeons, without the need for valuations. It would not be significantly lower, and the chances of high tier equipment is so low that it’s better to let that be the adventurers’ shot at the lottery. Let them have their winnings.”
One of the councillors wondered. “Is this related to that report on adventurer emigrations a while back?”
“Actually yes.” Kavio nodded. “There’s the issue of adventurers preferring work on the other continents as they had far better outcomes with dungeons. Monster hunter is a stable but not very lucrative job, but adventurers are all, in their hearts, looking for that moonshot.”
“Does Aeon have a view on this?” Another of the councillors asked. There are some councillors who just preferred to go with everything I decide. Bootlickers.
“Aeon has decided to abstain on the matters of taxation.” Brandak responded to the floor.
“Can’t we just override the local authority’s right to tax dungeon earnings?” One councillor from Freshka asked, which was swiftly slammed by the councillors from the respective kingdoms. None of the kingdoms wanted to give up their own rights to the tax income, yet, if the Freshlands Federal Authority shifted to a door-tax mechanism, most kingdoms will naturally follow, with their own rates.
I mentally spoke to Brandak and Kavio. “I’ll leave this matter to the both of you.”
They argued for two months, with multiple hearings and consultations with the adventurer guild masters, as well as some passionate views from certain kingdoms, and eventually decided to go for a vote. That resulted in a door tax.
Then came the next part of the dungeon-squabble.
“Councillor Kavio, we’d like to submit a petition for at least one dungeon in the Kingdoms of A to be converted to a public dungeon.” Well, there was a tax inequality where dungeons reserved for Valthorn use did not generate tax income for their host kingdoms.
Honestly, this entire debacle just reminded me why I hated bureaucracy with a freaking passion. It was a chore going through the numerous interested parties. I felt like being stuck as a project manager with different opposing stakeholders that refused to compromise.
I could, of course, steamroll this entire thing through.A few more months passed by. The councillors were pretty much bombarded with lobbies and petitions. The issue of dungeons had a whole lot more vested interests than I thought. Merchant groups who traded on dungeon equipment, crafters and workers who supported and supplied gear to adventurers all lobbied for public dungeons. Valthorns all used Valthorn-supplied gear, so their spending in the local cities are usually lower than adventurers, on a per capita basis.
Thus, Chancellor Brandak came with a proposal.
“We propose all dungeons be public dungeons, but all dungeons will have three months per year where the dungeons are exclusive to the Valthorns. All existing public dungeons will be rolled into this scheme. All dungeons will have a door tax proportionate to their difficulty. There will be no tax on Valthorn use of dungeons.”
“Fine.”
-
“These dungeons are cool.” Kei said, after she explored the dungeon as a golem with a group of Valthorns. “Right, Ikka?”
Ikka was one of the unfortunate Valthorns that are stuck as her ‘escort’. She’s a level 55 [Grand Knight]. “Yes, Kaide.”
Kei had a new name, Kaide. She wanted to distinguish herself from her old self, and also, help keep her secret identity safe. Very few people knew she was a hero.
“Are these dungeons normal?” Kei asked Ikka. Ikka shrugged. “I mean, fifteen floors seem a bit overkill for a dungeon, and I really liked that big boss fight at the end, and the miniboss fight.”
“There’s... a miniboss?”
“Yes. A few, in fact. There’s usually a miniboss at the end of the floor, too. Good for levelling, really. It’s almost as if the dungeon read your mind, Aeon.”
I wonder whether that’s just my will spilling into the dungeon-system.
“How frequently can you change the settings?” Honestly, none. Once I set the settings, the dungeon is locked, unless I destroy the dungeon. I can’t even set what kind of monsters can appear. My artificial minds helped to build a register of the dungeons’ and their monsters, but even then, the dungeons do spring surprises every now and then.
The dungeons are intentionally not letting me into their inner workings, beyond a RNG and challenge setting. For a domain ability, this felt... kinda annoying. “I can’t.”
“Oh. You can’t even tweak what happens inside, right?”
“Yup.”
“Hmmm... I think its’ because the levelling system requires genuine danger. The special dungeon experience multiplier only applies if there’s actually lives at risk, I suppose.” Kei speculated.
“Special dungeon experience multiplier...?” What the hell is that gacha raid shit?
Kei paused. “Oh. Maybe you don’t know, but when I entered dungeons, at least, when I was a hero, I could see I had a ‘passive’ experience gain buff. I don’t see it now, but I think the buff is still there. All dungeons have a thing where people gain levels faster when they struggle in them, I think.”
What.
“Wouldn’t be fair if you could tweak dungeons, and still enjoy the passive experience multiplier, ayy?”
Fair? If they want to talk about fairness, start with why in the flying fuck do heroes get overpowered level gains? They can reach level 100 within one year. ONE YEAR. There’s no such thing as fairness when it comes to gods and heroes. If they can stack the game and load the die, why can’t I do it too?
Kei paused. “Did I say something wrong?”
I didn’t reply. I still stewed over the concept of fairness.
-
“Aeon, are you mad that I’m slacking?” Arlisa asked one day. She... wasn’t the best student, despite her clearly blessed intelligence and natural talent. Somehow, she was blessed with martial talent that exceeded most, but here she is, slacking and dodging classes.
“Do you want me to be?” I didn’t want to push the responsibility on her. As far as I can tell, achievement can’t be forced, all you can do is offer opportunity. For Valthorns with nothing, they would naturally grab all the opportunities they can get. Arlisa, thus the spoiled 2nd generation, had the luxury of time and nobility to waste it. It’s sad, of course, but at the same time, that only meant I excluded her from my plans.
“I don’t know. Mom keeps telling me about duty and that because I am blessed, I should live up to it. I mean, I feel like I did enough, though.”
Her behavior was familiar, like the clever kid in school that studied just enough to do well, and then spend the rest of her time playing or doing other things.
“That’s why I wanted to ask you.”
“Many others on the continent would give up a lot to be in your privileged position. Whether you live up to your station in life, is up to you. It’s very fortunate that Lausanne is an elf, who would live very long lives naturally, it’s a safety net very, very few have.”
“I knew it.” She sighed. “All this following the footsteps of my mother is annoying. I want my own life.”
“Your life has always been your own.”
“I mean, I want to be able to choose the direction of my own life.”
“That has never been taken away from you. Whatever choice you make, it will just factor into the bigger picture.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it.” Arlisa frowned. “Even if I have the ability to choose whatever I want to be, the gears of the world will move against me. So, only certain choices are realistic choices. In that case, am I really able to choose?”
“It seems you are thinking far too ahead of yourself, my dear Arlisa.” I responded. “Are you slacking because all the choices scare you?”
She paced in her room, and then sat down. “That’s... a very good point.”
-
“You can create dungeons?” I wonder why no one ever presumed to ask why so many dungeons appeared suddenly throughout the continent. So, when I discussed the matter of dungeon configurations with Edna, she seemed really, really taken aback by it.
“Uh. Yes. It is a new ability I gained.”
She was stunned. “Everyone seemed to think that perhaps the God of Dungeons was suddenly magnanimous, so dungeons reappeared on the central continent.”
“I see.” Of course, me being me, I told almost no one, except Kei, about my abilities. I would have told Jura, but, well. “It seems I may have erred in my decision on this?”
“No. Wait. That meant all that squabbling with the kingdoms could have been just ended by telling them that the dungeons are all your creations?”
“I had the impression they were aware.”
“No. They were not. They guessed, but it was just a suspicion, and certainly creating dungeons is a level of ability that they didn’t think you have.”
“I find their lack of faith in your abilities, disturbing. Requesting permission for mind-attack.” Patreeck commented.
“Denied.”
“Should I say so?”
“I mean... uh... I don’t know. It’s a strategic decision at this point. If you could essentially hold the kingdoms at ransom by creating or removing dungeons...” Edna processed it.
“Ah.” That’s a good point. Access to the wealth of dungeons as a form of economic leash on the kingdoms is a very good way to keep these herd of cats compliant.
“We should discuss this with a wider council.”
-
Chancellor Brandak, Councillor Kavio, more senior Vallhorns, the Treeology Patreearches, the highest Lords and Kings were there, and of course, it was pretty much an earth shaking announcement.
“Aeon gained the ability to cause dungeons to appear, and the recent Dungeon Spring is entirely due to Aeon’s prolific use of his new ability.”
A diplomat was quick to display the risks of this news going out. “In the holy text of the Gaya church, it is mentioned that the powers of creating dungeons is one that is vested in the Lost Gods. By association, the Gayan faith will therefore consider Aeon to be one of the Lost Gods, the traitors who opened the astral way to the demons.”
“Then we must be quick to counter such beliefs.” A Patreearch said. “Our faith is independent of the other faiths, and so our God’s powers should not be linked to the text of another religion. I am of the view that the priesthood should go out and sing praise of this new power.”
“People die in dungeons, and that did not change. These dungeons, created by Aeon as they may be, remain a dangerous place.” One of the Lords had another opinion. “Associating Aeon with a place that causes death will make Aeon seem... cruel. Even if those are risks that the adventurers knowingly signed up for.”
That was also... a good point. Creating this place of death has reputational risk.
“In the history of our allied nations, there have been some Kings who had skills that improve a dungeon’s characteristics, or improve its’ levels gain and such...” One of the local Prince explained. Indeed, Kings have all sort of generic improvement skills, some of which, target the dungeons in their territory. “Such skills are not been associated with the Lost Gods, if one even believes in such hogwash.”
This particular local prince was a product of the FTC, and as such, has rather aggressive views toward the ‘outside’ religions. Kinda ironic, when we are the ones that displaced those religions.
“So do we tell, or not tell?”
I eventually decided that this was something to be shared among the leadership team, but not to the general public. They all swore an oath that day to tell no one outside that room. They should know my abilities to some limited degree, at least, I want to begin this process of forming a cohesive top-level force, and I can do that with only a reasonable level of trust.
We’ll see soon enough if the trust is reciprocated.
Year 158
“The peace we have today is one won by blood.” Edna explained to the young Valthorns. “The order we have today is held together by the bones of those who fell defending it. Peace demands blood. Order demands bones. The question is simply, are you ready to give your blood and bones for the cause.”
The entire blood and bones analogy was a little too much, and felt a bit like a blood mage or a necromancer trying to win others to their cause.
But it seemed to work for hot blooded young folks. Even the naturally calm treefolk seemed taken by the whole sacrifice schtick. In every generation, in every batch, there is a mix of dispositions, some more reserved, some more passionate.
As the one they would ultimately fight for, it’s my role to identify those who’s fire will keep burning, and burn brighter for decades to come. Based on what I’ve seen so far, there’s no real clear personality indicators to suggest which type of person will remain passionate and loyal to the cause for years to come. Instead, what we noticed is loyalty tends to be accumulated over the decades via little events, and events that increase loyalties for some individuals, do not increase them for others.
The young ones all practiced, and Edna adjusted their pose. I asked her to help with training, simply because they would just naturally level faster when someone of a significantly higher level is advising them.
Renewal is a constant, neverending affair. Just as a deciduous tree repeatedly grows after each winter.
“Class, today, we have Roon and Evin, two of our senior Valthorns! They’ll be providing guidance on archery, and fighting with weapons!”
Students grow and turn to teachers. Teachers change. A new generation takes over, hopefully, better than the ones that came before.
“Roon, is a Level 64 [Aeonic Sharpshooter], and Evin, a Level 61 [Champion Gladiator].” Edna introduced them. They were just as nervous as the kids. Roon was once among them, 15 years ago. Somehow, to return and be one of the teachers was a stressful affair. Kids.
Edna patted them both on the back.
“You’ll do fine. Just relax, have a cup of herbal tea if you need it.” She smiled at the two younger folks. Roon is a typical elf orphan, while Evin is a female half-dwarf who capitalised on her exceptional strength to win multiple arena battles, thus earning the Champion title. The Valthorns are allowed to compete in competitions, but only a limited number. So internally, within the Valthorns, there is a mini-competition before they even get to participate.
This is because we didn’t want to flood every competition with Valthorn Initiates, with our dedicated training and high levels. Yet, we do want a presence in these competitions where there are large spectator groups, so we want our good candidates to perform well and help improve our reputation. That said, our best-of-the-best never participate, and there is an internal rule that only those below Level 50 can participate in competitions.
I do think it’s a bit silly, but if the level of competition increases in the future, the level cap will be revised accordingly.
The two new trainers were uncomfortable at best. It was hard to connect with young children, it took effort, and practice to know how to speak and get young kids to listen and do things. Even if the Valthorn recruits were already a preselected crop.
-
The dungeons opened, and the Valthorns attempted them. The dungeons have some rules, despite the domain powers. For example, my ‘view’ of the dungeon is always delayed. I can only see what happened after each team completed their run of the dungeon, whether they failed, or they succeeded. Secondly, I can tweak the dungeon’s settings, but I have no ability to use my powers inside the dungeons.
It’s like I have a RNG dungeon generator, and I’m playing an idle game where I send teams out on expeditions and hope they succeed.
Patreeck was quick to generate a mathematical model though. After like 10 to 20 rounds of attempts, he already could estimate the chances of success for the dungeon, based on the squad strength.
-
The return of dungeons to the continent also brought a new lobbying group. Adventurers.
“We wish to petition Aeon for access to the new dungeons.” Adventurers wanted dungeons. After the borders were loosened, there actually was a ‘brain drain’ where adventurers left the Central continents for the other continents.
This was simply because there were no dungeons, and if there were no dungeons, adventurers had little chance of striking it rich by fighting a dungeon and earning a high tier reward. They were nothing more than monster hunters. Dungeons were a crucial element in the adventurer ecosystem, and previously, the adventurers had to suffer in silence, since, well, the borders were closed. They were not going to get themselves killed by travelling to a continent that killed anyone that came from the Central continent.
Not anymore.
The guild masters were quick to band together and demand the dungeons for the adventurers. Or at least, shared ‘slots’ where adventurers could attempt those dungeons for themselves.
It was a point I discussed with the Valthorns consistently, and after a while, we had a ‘carve-up’ system.
Certain dungeons were marked at Valthorn-only, and certain dungeons were free-for-all. Valthorns were free to join the adventurers on raids, and form their own parties.
“A 15% tax on all earnings is too high.” The Guild masters then shifted onto issue of taxes on dungeon-rewards.
“25% was the initial number, I believe.” Kavio walked.
The guild masters gulped but then presented that there’s actually at least a two-layer tax. Under most local and regional laws, dungeon earnings were subject to taxes at the local nation level. That meant adventurers had to pay a tax to the local state, and also to the Valthorns.
“Higher profits will allow the adventurers to get better gear and fight better. If Aeon’s goal is to get strength, please, consider supporting the adventurers’ in their pursuit of personal growth.”
I was rather torn. The taxes helped support the Valthorns, and the Valthorns do have a lot of spending. But I also agreed that for folks that risked their lives for money, a high tax does feel like bad taste.
“We recommend a door tax. A per-entry tax.” The guildmasters naturally preferred a flat tax, since all the potential upside accrued to the adventurers.
Kavio looked over the proposal. “We’ll submit this proposal for further discussion.”
-
“We’re running at a marginal surplus at the moment.” The Chief of the Valthorn’s financial and accounting records was Chancellor Brandak, a Treefolk Merchant turned Lord. He was the fourth treefolk [Aeonic Lord] after Kraveik, but soon found a home in the massive Valthorn machinery as our de-facto CFO.
The Valthorns’ bookkeeping function was frankly a mess as we expanded quickly, and we had revenue sources throughout the entire continent. Compiling income and expenditure reports on a continental scale was a challenge, and continued to be a challenge. This was despite my [artificial souls] monitoring all the transactions throughout the continent.
Simply put, there were simply far too many transactions at any given day, for artificial minds to keep up with, and over time, their role shifted to that of ‘auditors’, where they merely observed the practices of the Valthorns on a sampling basis. The complexity of revenue had also increased, as with the multiple layers of taxes and jurisdictions.
Brandak’s advise seemed to concur with the guild masters. “It would be administratively easier for us if we just impose a door tax. That way, we don’t have to calculate the adventurers’ earnings and participate in the highly subjective matter of valuing artifacts and salvaged equipment. As it is, we do spend quite a bit of money maintaining valuers and appraisals.”
Kavio, was on the other side. “Marginal, Chancellor Brandak. We could use the money for more recruitment.”
“A reasonably higher door tax would pretty much equalise our take from the dungeons, without the need for valuations. It would not be significantly lower, and the chances of high tier equipment is so low that it’s better to let that be the adventurers’ shot at the lottery. Let them have their winnings.”
One of the councillors wondered. “Is this related to that report on adventurer emigrations a while back?”
“Actually yes.” Kavio nodded. “There’s the issue of adventurers preferring work on the other continents as they had far better outcomes with dungeons. Monster hunter is a stable but not very lucrative job, but adventurers are all, in their hearts, looking for that moonshot.”
“Does Aeon have a view on this?” Another of the councillors asked. There are some councillors who just preferred to go with everything I decide. Bootlickers.
“Aeon has decided to abstain on the matters of taxation.” Brandak responded to the floor.
“Can’t we just override the local authority’s right to tax dungeon earnings?” One councillor from Freshka asked, which was swiftly slammed by the councillors from the respective kingdoms. None of the kingdoms wanted to give up their own rights to the tax income, yet, if the Freshlands Federal Authority shifted to a door-tax mechanism, most kingdoms will naturally follow, with their own rates.
I mentally spoke to Brandak and Kavio. “I’ll leave this matter to the both of you.”
They argued for two months, with multiple hearings and consultations with the adventurer guild masters, as well as some passionate views from certain kingdoms, and eventually decided to go for a vote. That resulted in a door tax.
Then came the next part of the dungeon-squabble.
“Councillor Kavio, we’d like to submit a petition for at least one dungeon in the Kingdoms of A to be converted to a public dungeon.” Well, there was a tax inequality where dungeons reserved for Valthorn use did not generate tax income for their host kingdoms.
Honestly, this entire debacle just reminded me why I hated bureaucracy with a freaking passion. It was a chore going through the numerous interested parties. I felt like being stuck as a project manager with different opposing stakeholders that refused to compromise.
I could, of course, steamroll this entire thing through.A few more months passed by. The councillors were pretty much bombarded with lobbies and petitions. The issue of dungeons had a whole lot more vested interests than I thought. Merchant groups who traded on dungeon equipment, crafters and workers who supported and supplied gear to adventurers all lobbied for public dungeons. Valthorns all used Valthorn-supplied gear, so their spending in the local cities are usually lower than adventurers, on a per capita basis.
Thus, Chancellor Brandak came with a proposal.
“We propose all dungeons be public dungeons, but all dungeons will have three months per year where the dungeons are exclusive to the Valthorns. All existing public dungeons will be rolled into this scheme. All dungeons will have a door tax proportionate to their difficulty. There will be no tax on Valthorn use of dungeons.”
“Fine.”
-
“These dungeons are cool.” Kei said, after she explored the dungeon as a golem with a group of Valthorns. “Right, Ikka?”
Ikka was one of the unfortunate Valthorns that are stuck as her ‘escort’. She’s a level 55 [Grand Knight]. “Yes, Kaide.”
Kei had a new name, Kaide. She wanted to distinguish herself from her old self, and also, help keep her secret identity safe. Very few people knew she was a hero.
“Are these dungeons normal?” Kei asked Ikka. Ikka shrugged. “I mean, fifteen floors seem a bit overkill for a dungeon, and I really liked that big boss fight at the end, and the miniboss fight.”
“There’s... a miniboss?”
“Yes. A few, in fact. There’s usually a miniboss at the end of the floor, too. Good for levelling, really. It’s almost as if the dungeon read your mind, Aeon.”
I wonder whether that’s just my will spilling into the dungeon-system.
“How frequently can you change the settings?” Honestly, none. Once I set the settings, the dungeon is locked, unless I destroy the dungeon. I can’t even set what kind of monsters can appear. My artificial minds helped to build a register of the dungeons’ and their monsters, but even then, the dungeons do spring surprises every now and then.
The dungeons are intentionally not letting me into their inner workings, beyond a RNG and challenge setting. For a domain ability, this felt... kinda annoying. “I can’t.”
“Oh. You can’t even tweak what happens inside, right?”
“Yup.”
“Hmmm... I think its’ because the levelling system requires genuine danger. The special dungeon experience multiplier only applies if there’s actually lives at risk, I suppose.” Kei speculated.
“Special dungeon experience multiplier...?” What the hell is that gacha raid shit?
Kei paused. “Oh. Maybe you don’t know, but when I entered dungeons, at least, when I was a hero, I could see I had a ‘passive’ experience gain buff. I don’t see it now, but I think the buff is still there. All dungeons have a thing where people gain levels faster when they struggle in them, I think.”
What.
“Wouldn’t be fair if you could tweak dungeons, and still enjoy the passive experience multiplier, ayy?”
Fair? If they want to talk about fairness, start with why in the flying fuck do heroes get overpowered level gains? They can reach level 100 within one year. ONE YEAR. There’s no such thing as fairness when it comes to gods and heroes. If they can stack the game and load the die, why can’t I do it too?
Kei paused. “Did I say something wrong?”
I didn’t reply. I still stewed over the concept of fairness.
-
“Aeon, are you mad that I’m slacking?” Arlisa asked one day. She... wasn’t the best student, despite her clearly blessed intelligence and natural talent. Somehow, she was blessed with martial talent that exceeded most, but here she is, slacking and dodging classes.
“Do you want me to be?” I didn’t want to push the responsibility on her. As far as I can tell, achievement can’t be forced, all you can do is offer opportunity. For Valthorns with nothing, they would naturally grab all the opportunities they can get. Arlisa, thus the spoiled 2nd generation, had the luxury of time and nobility to waste it. It’s sad, of course, but at the same time, that only meant I excluded her from my plans.
“I don’t know. Mom keeps telling me about duty and that because I am blessed, I should live up to it. I mean, I feel like I did enough, though.”
Her behavior was familiar, like the clever kid in school that studied just enough to do well, and then spend the rest of her time playing or doing other things.
“That’s why I wanted to ask you.”
“Many others on the continent would give up a lot to be in your privileged position. Whether you live up to your station in life, is up to you. It’s very fortunate that Lausanne is an elf, who would live very long lives naturally, it’s a safety net very, very few have.”
“I knew it.” She sighed. “All this following the footsteps of my mother is annoying. I want my own life.”
“Your life has always been your own.”
“I mean, I want to be able to choose the direction of my own life.”
“That has never been taken away from you. Whatever choice you make, it will just factor into the bigger picture.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it.” Arlisa frowned. “Even if I have the ability to choose whatever I want to be, the gears of the world will move against me. So, only certain choices are realistic choices. In that case, am I really able to choose?”
“It seems you are thinking far too ahead of yourself, my dear Arlisa.” I responded. “Are you slacking because all the choices scare you?”
She paced in her room, and then sat down. “That’s... a very good point.”
-
“You can create dungeons?” I wonder why no one ever presumed to ask why so many dungeons appeared suddenly throughout the continent. So, when I discussed the matter of dungeon configurations with Edna, she seemed really, really taken aback by it.
“Uh. Yes. It is a new ability I gained.”
She was stunned. “Everyone seemed to think that perhaps the God of Dungeons was suddenly magnanimous, so dungeons reappeared on the central continent.”
“I see.” Of course, me being me, I told almost no one, except Kei, about my abilities. I would have told Jura, but, well. “It seems I may have erred in my decision on this?”
“No. Wait. That meant all that squabbling with the kingdoms could have been just ended by telling them that the dungeons are all your creations?”
“I had the impression they were aware.”
“No. They were not. They guessed, but it was just a suspicion, and certainly creating dungeons is a level of ability that they didn’t think you have.”
“I find their lack of faith in your abilities, disturbing. Requesting permission for mind-attack.” Patreeck commented.
“Denied.”
“Should I say so?”
“I mean... uh... I don’t know. It’s a strategic decision at this point. If you could essentially hold the kingdoms at ransom by creating or removing dungeons...” Edna processed it.
“Ah.” That’s a good point. Access to the wealth of dungeons as a form of economic leash on the kingdoms is a very good way to keep these herd of cats compliant.
“We should discuss this with a wider council.”
-
Chancellor Brandak, Councillor Kavio, more senior Vallhorns, the Treeology Patreearches, the highest Lords and Kings were there, and of course, it was pretty much an earth shaking announcement.
“Aeon gained the ability to cause dungeons to appear, and the recent Dungeon Spring is entirely due to Aeon’s prolific use of his new ability.”
A diplomat was quick to display the risks of this news going out. “In the holy text of the Gaya church, it is mentioned that the powers of creating dungeons is one that is vested in the Lost Gods. By association, the Gayan faith will therefore consider Aeon to be one of the Lost Gods, the traitors who opened the astral way to the demons.”
“Then we must be quick to counter such beliefs.” A Patreearch said. “Our faith is independent of the other faiths, and so our God’s powers should not be linked to the text of another religion. I am of the view that the priesthood should go out and sing praise of this new power.”
“People die in dungeons, and that did not change. These dungeons, created by Aeon as they may be, remain a dangerous place.” One of the Lords had another opinion. “Associating Aeon with a place that causes death will make Aeon seem... cruel. Even if those are risks that the adventurers knowingly signed up for.”
That was also... a good point. Creating this place of death has reputational risk.
“In the history of our allied nations, there have been some Kings who had skills that improve a dungeon’s characteristics, or improve its’ levels gain and such...” One of the local Prince explained. Indeed, Kings have all sort of generic improvement skills, some of which, target the dungeons in their territory. “Such skills are not been associated with the Lost Gods, if one even believes in such hogwash.”
This particular local prince was a product of the FTC, and as such, has rather aggressive views toward the ‘outside’ religions. Kinda ironic, when we are the ones that displaced those religions.
“So do we tell, or not tell?”
I eventually decided that this was something to be shared among the leadership team, but not to the general public. They all swore an oath that day to tell no one outside that room. They should know my abilities to some limited degree, at least, I want to begin this process of forming a cohesive top-level force, and I can do that with only a reasonable level of trust.
We’ll see soon enough if the trust is reciprocated.
