《George of the Dungeon》


 Prologue: Dungeons know no maths

    One could argue that a Dungeon was an intelligent being. After all, the difference between intelligent life and any other was an intentional use of mana, and anyone that has studied a Dungeon would agree that they had a particular penchant for mana and its use.


    The Dungeon situated at the base of Skull Mount was no different. It has withstood the trying test of time that new dungeons regularly go through after their seemingly popping into existence out of nowhere. Some scholars have provided differing theories about how or why Dungeons exist and how they are ¡®born¡¯ in a lack of a better term, but no unifying agreement between said scholars existed. All that the people living on Belerem knew is that Dungeons exist and that they were ravenous mana-bound creatures.


    Thus we return to the Dungeon at Skull Mount, as it was called by the sapients of the area it lived in. This wasn¡¯t a particularly old Dungeon, but neither was it inexperienced. It already withstood several attacks and tried to make itself better at defending.


    Naturally, a creature made and bound by the world¡¯s mysterious energy that permeates through it also feeds and grows by inhaling more of it, and thus the primary concern of Dungeons¡¯ existence was made pretty clear to the various sapient races. Dungeons wanted to take up space and kill things.


    The other sapient races didn¡¯t like something not-so-sapient intent of taking all their living space, even though they frequently take each others¡¯ just as easily through many wars that happened over millennia. Thus, they decided to somewhat shelve the idea of conquering each other and work together in stopping Dungeons from their voracious land-grabbing.


    Soon enough, the Dungeons and sapients were in a sort of an attrition war.


    The Dungeons would pop into existence, as they always do, and start grabbing land to get access to more ley lines of mana. As they did, the less intelligent creatures would make their way into Dungeons as they cleared parts of the bedrock within them to house the mana reserves.


    The sapients would then try and kill the Dungeon by making their way through the mazes and traps Dungeons use to protect their vulnerable parts, namely the mana reserves the sapients call a core.


    An invasion of a Dungeon would prompt heavy recourse from the Dungeon itself, as it started to use its mana reserve to strengthen its inhabitants and direct them to the invaders, sometimes even able to use advanced magical techniques the sapients use. They called them spells, but to a Dungeon, they were a way of ¡®life¡¯, if a Dungeon could be called alive.


    Thus we¡¯re back to the Dungeon of Skull Mount. One party of invaders actually got to one of its cores and desecrated it, reducing the eastern portion of the Dungeon to rubble until more mana could be spared to restore it. The invaders didn¡¯t think of the consequences of the ceiling collapsing in on them as they pierced the core with a heavy metallic object they called a sword. Sadly, their mana was dispersed into The Great Nothingness as the Dungeon lost claim to the area. It would have benefited greatly from such donation of life.


    The Dungeon didn¡¯t like losing, as it would mean that it would eventually die. It learned pretty quickly that most beings consider dying really really bad, and didn¡¯t want to go that route itself. So it had to plan new avenues of defence.


    It did try at first to just bury the core deep underground and be done with it, but to its chagrin, the mana flow to and from such core diminished to the point of inaccessibility, which was counterproductive.


    The sapients, of course, learned pretty quickly of the phenomena that Dungeons had to have their cores exposed to make use of them and to feed and grow.


    Thus, the Dungeon had to find more original routes to victory against the sapients. The fleshbags that were currently living in it could also be called sapients, but it liked making the distinction between friend and foe. But the fleshbags, as notorious and effective as they were, were starting to become underwhelming for the waves of intruders.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The Dungeon did realize pretty early on that it was great at moving things around. Perhaps it could move more fleshbags from somewhere else. It would hurt to try, as everything the Dungeon did to protect itself ironically meant it had to use the mana it stored. But it would be ultimately be used to survive and thrive, and thus it was a calculated risk.


    Nobody told it that Dungeons knew nothing about maths.


    Thus, the Dungeon set itself on recruiting more fleshbags. It thought long and hard about how it moved rubble and stone around and figured that it shouldn¡¯t be that much different from that.


    It started pulling mana from one of its cores, trying to see if that could provide a sight of a distant land to pull fleshbags from. Far sights were a lovely thing for early defence, as it meant the Dungeon could plan in advance whenever it saw invaders coming from afar.


    However, it was apparent that no sight appeared. A lot of mana was sunk into nothing. Actually, the Dungeon realised that the mana was sunk into something, as there was a sizeable chunk of it glowing about the dungeon hallways. It just didn¡¯t know what.


    The Dungeon then sensed something wonderful. A fleshbag. It didn¡¯t know how or why, but the chunk of floating mana actually saw a fleshbag. It was ugly and vastly different from other fleshbags living in it, lacking any protective apparatuses such as scales and serrated teeth, looking similar to the invaders instead. It didn¡¯t understand where the fleshbag was actually, but that didn¡¯t matter in the long run.


    The Dungeon pulled. It used the chunk of mana it had collected and pulled onto the fleshbag. Then the fleshbag was nowhere to be found.


    Infuriated, the Dungeon seemingly gave up on trying to pull more fleshbags from apparently nowhere and decided to make a spike trap and more hallways to extend its maze with. At least it knew how to do that well. And it always worked.


    The Dungeon didn¡¯t keep a tight count of signatures of life inside it. The fleshbags, while important, would constantly go up and down in numbers so it didn¡¯t think much of it when there was suddenly a new signal of life inside the Dungeon. It didn¡¯t really bother to check where it was, as it was currently concentrating on figuring out whether spikes should come from the floor or the ceiling. Experiments with the past invaders have so far proven inconclusive as to the effectiveness in either method. The Dungeon thought that maybe one of the walls would be a better place for the spikes.


    Feeling pretty happy with the new arrangement, and still mad about the fleshbag pulling being an utter failure, the Dungeon went into slumber as it always does to conserve energy and gather more for future endeavours.


    It still didn¡¯t check the new life signal. Maybe it should¡¯ve.


    <hr>


    The Gods of Belerem were mysterious beings. They heralded and herded their subjects, but decided to stay far from them and influence them directly in only the most special circumstances. They spoke through their Priests and Champions, but that was a rare occasion and the subjects considered being approached by a God as the greatest honour.


    One of Gods realised that suddenly, there was a subject where there shouldn¡¯t be one. Apparently, one of the Dungeons did something to it, and now a human was transported deep inside its territory.


    No God knew who the human worshipped, or who the human was. But they decided to go along with it. Semira, the Goddess of Life could glean that the man¡¯s name was George and that he had come from a faraway land. She didn¡¯t know how or why he decided to appear here, but she decided to help him nonetheless, and thus left him with an arcane book. Her priests would use the book to store incantations and discover new things about the world, and she hoped that it would aid the human in the quest against the Dungeon it had been mercilessly put into.


    Usually, the arcane books were bound to a particular God and the subjects would be bound to the God as well. However, since there was no obvious binding in George, and Gods couldn¡¯t force people to bind to them, the book would be unbound as well.


    Semira hoped that George would find his way. She liked to see life flourish, and life flourishing in the Dungeon would be a paramount task she would be proud being a part of.


    <hr>


    Scholars in Belerem knew of the spells to transfer people from one place to another. They also knew that some other planes existed, such as those that house Demons or Gods. They did know that Demons knew how to transfer between Belerem and their native plane, and the priests frequently told of Gods pulling mortals into their realm when the time was right.


    What happened to George was nothing of the sort. You see, George lived in neither of these planes. So it was confusing to all parties involved when he blinked and, instead of his bedroom in the city, found himself alone in a dark damp cave corridor. A moment later a flash of light appeared and a book was plopped into existence right in front of him.


    That was all he saw before he passed out.

 Chapter 1: Spider Sense

    George woke up when he felt cold drips on his face. He hauled himself up in a hurry, then took a moment to look around.


    He didn¡¯t know why he blacked out. It hadn¡¯t really happened before. Maybe he should go to a doctor. If he knew where he was at the moment.


    He clearly remembered being in his room moments ago. Well, if you don¡¯t count time passing when he was unconscious. For him, it was moments.


    Then, he was¡­ here, wherever here was. He couldn¡¯t see much, that was for certain. It felt damp and it was definitely cold. There really wasn¡¯t much he could see, but he could feel cold rock, and when he touched the floor, he could feel more rock and dirt and some mud.


    His instincts said he was in a cave. Where he got those instincts he didn¡¯t know, but he decided to go with that until proven otherwise.


    The place wasn¡¯t pitch black, which is something that should be unusual when you¡¯re in a cave. However, he did realise that there was indeed some sort of light on the ceiling. It looked like small specks of glowing rock. The ceiling was unfortunately too tall for him to reach, so he gave up on the idea of grabbing one. He also didn¡¯t have any extraction tool with him to actually get the glowing rock out of the ceiling in the first place.


    The cave he was in, or at least the part of it he currently occupied, seemed to be empty. Except for the large book that was at his feet.


    He distinctly remembered the book popping into existence with a flash of light before passing out. He thought it was probably how he got where he was as well, as unconvincing as that sounded. Then again, moving from one place to another in the blink of an eye was definitely convincing him to that idea.


    He picked the book up, figuring since there was no one else here it was meant for him. If it wasn¡¯t, then it definitely was now.


    The book looked new but ragged. It was weird to him how a new book could look ragged, but it was. There were no obvious stains or marks of use on it, but the leather, or what he assumed to be leather, covers and the bindings looked like they¡¯ve seen better times.


    The front cover showed a large circle with various geometrical shapes inscribed inside it, but no discernible letters. The bookmark was held on the very first page, so he decided to open it, seeing as the cover was utterly useless at telling him what the book was about.


    The dim light of the ceiling was barely enough for him to read.


    To the glory of ___________


    Well, that was useless. The glory of what? This book was starting to give more questions than answers. The second page held a rather large swath of text.


    Heal


    Divinity Spell, No Domain


    To call upon this spell, the caster must concentrate on and will his power through the wound he wishes to close.


    The stronger the connection to the Deity, the more power surges into the wound and it is mended better.


    Current Domain - None. No further benefits.


    The rest of the page contained various inscriptions on how to properly focus on the wounds, and which wounds should be prioritised. It seemed less like medicine and more like what he would consider alchemy was like.


    There were several hanging issues here.


    The most obvious one was that this was apparently a book of spells, and it seemed to belong to no one, as apparent from page one. Maybe it was his book of spells.


    George considered the implications of a spellbook in his hand. He still hasn¡¯t got over the fact that he has literally blinked into his place, but if that was also a spell, it might be useful to think of it as such.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.


    So, George¡¯s first revelation was that spells exist.


    Of course, George was in his early twenties and played games. He knew what his versions of spells were, in games. Having a spellbook actually sat in his hands was a wholly new experience.


    The book said that Heal was a Divinity Spell. Considering that the likelihood of the book belonging to him was high, he figured that he was not actually a sort of divinity, but more that he was, or should be, working for the Divine, or a Deity, as there was a mention of one.


    Maybe there were multiple Deities. The colloquial usage of the definite article could mean that this was supposed to be either one Deity as a whole or a Deity in particular.


    There didn¡¯t seem to be more information about Deities and belief systems in particular on this page.


    Then there was the part of the domain. Several games liked to talk about domains, mostly in regards to how magic was classified. If his spell currently had no domain, and seemingly so, no benefits because of it, then there had to be domains, and the spell would get benefits when it got one.


    His musings about domain got interrupted when the relative silence around him was broken for the first time. George almost completely forgot where he was for a moment, but the dimness of the corridor reminded him that he was in an unfamiliar place.


    He could hear sounds in the distance, but the corridor bent rather quickly up ahead. The sounds seemed to get closer though, so whatever was making it was approaching. He could discern that the noise was actually of something, or things, moving across the cave floor rather hurriedly considering the frequency of the pace.


    He didn¡¯t really want to get out of the relative safety of his empty corridor, and had briefly considered going the other way, but decided to stay put and see what was coming his way. Maybe it wasn¡¯t so bad, and it could help him get a feel for this place.


    What came around the bend and into his view didn¡¯t seem friendly. A spider the size of a dog skittered towards him, then stopped at an arbitrary point about two meters away from him, perhaps because he was noticed.


    George read that, all things considered, spiders didn¡¯t really have that good of an eyesight. Then again, spiders usually didn¡¯t grow to the size of a dog.


    The spider made a clicking noise and propped itself on its hind legs, rather large fangs showing. It looked like it would hurt. And most spiders were venomous.


    George started backing up, trying to inch slowly from the spider. He thought that spider would perhaps leave him alone if he backed off.


    The spider didn¡¯t seem to budge until George took a larger step back, then immediately got down on all eight legs and seemingly leapt towards him. George didn¡¯t know if spiders could actually leap, but this one did its very best to try.


    In a bout of panic, George grabbed the only thing he had at hand and swatted at a spider with his book. The leather cover of the book struck against the fangs and seemingly stopped the spider¡¯s initial assault.


    George had hoped that that would mean the spider would give up, but he had no such luck, as the spider only recoiled then went at George again, this time aiming for his leg.


    George was usually slightly afraid of spiders back home, but something took over him, probably one of those instinct things he fostered deep inside. So he took the book and swatted the spider squarely across its face. But not before the spider bit him.


    George yelped. He was in pain before but was never bit, especially by a spider the size of a dog. The sharp pain made him buckle down at almost eye level with the spider.


    That, however, didn¡¯t stop him from repeatedly hitting the spider with the book, even while the spider¡¯s fang was still puncturing his right leg.


    He repeatedly shoved the book into the space between the spider¡¯s eyes until its head started to burst and bleed. After what seemed like ages of battering the spider¡¯s head with a highly unqualified weapon, the spider dropped down and the fangs slightly released their hold on George¡¯s leg.


    George hit the spider a few more times for good measure, then extracted the fang out of the leg.


    The leg started gushing blood as soon as he did that and George remembered that you should never take things out of you if you got stabbed.


    Lamenting the lack of common sense, he remembered one useful thing he had ¡ª a heal.


    He took the book, now slightly bloodied from both him and the spider, and started repeating the motions he saw on the first page.


    The book told him to concentrate on the wound, which was incredibly easy as there seemed to be nothing else he could concentrate on.


    The harder part was trying to figure out what willing his power meant. He imagined the wound closed, which didn¡¯t produce anything. Then he imagined something closing the wound, which produced nothing as well.


    Then he just focused on the wound as it was, ugly and gushing blood, and wished it closed.


    And then something happened. The wound lit in a flash of light, not dissimilar to the one that produced the book, then¡­ mended. It first stopped gushing blood out, then slowly started to close, leaving a huge scar across his lower leg, but George decided he didn¡¯t really mind a scar, considering he lived.


    George took a while to compose himself afterwards. He was dropped into a place he didn¡¯t know, that apparently had real magic and Gods and spiders the size of dogs. He wanted to be home.


    Then he heard more skittering coming from where the first spider came.


    For the first time since he came to this place, George spoke.


    ¡°Damnit.¡±

 Chapter 2: Let There be Light, or Not

    Two more Dog Spiders and one Heal later, George was doubled down against a wall. It was incredibly fortunate that they came one after another instead of both at the same time, as he didn¡¯t think he could take both spiders at once.


    The first one also managed to bite him before he killed it, which required another use of the Heal. That time, however, he was a lot quicker in doing it and didn¡¯t make the mistake of getting the fang out before he was ready to Heal himself.


    The second spider he decided to try and prepare for, immediately charging it with the book in his hands as soon as he saw the spider. That seemed to surprise the spider and allowed George to take care of it that much easier.


    George wondered what to do with 3 spider corpses strewn about, but before he could come to a conclusion, something new happened. A sloshing sound came from the other way, and a few moments later, something slimy appeared in view.


    George chuckled, ¡°Of course this place had slimes! Why wouldn¡¯t it? I mean, there¡¯s the magical book, the large-ass spider, of course there¡¯d be slimes-¡± he sighed, talking to no one in particular, perhaps the slime itself.


    George took a long look at the slime. It was utterly stereotypical. A large green slime that wobbled with what looked like a hard bit in the middle. According to the usual games, you killed a slime by removing or destroying the hardened core.


    But George decided to just watch what the slime was doing. The slime¡­ oozed slowly, like a transparent slug, in the direction of the dead spiders, then slowly started to envelop one.


    Then, something unexpected happened. The slime plopped out a coin. It bounced just out of George¡¯s reached and glimmered in the dim light.


    George propped himself forward and picked it up. It looked like a coin or as much of it as a coin would. There weren¡¯t really any discerning details on it, as it was just a flattened piece of metal, but calling it a coin seemed sufficient.


    He put the coin in the pocket of his now rapidly deteriorating pants and considered how weird this would be if he didn¡¯t get dressed before getting here.


    The slime repeated the oozing and the enveloping of the other spiders, but produced no more coins, then went onwards. There was nothing left of the spiders when the slime was done with them. George decided not to mind the money-producing slime, as weird as that concept was, and just sat back down against the wall.


    He reopened the book, considering that was his only belonging apart from his clothes and, now, a single coin of indeterminate value.


    The book was by now wet from the blood of the spiders, even though arachnids didn¡¯t have, or shouldn¡¯t have, much blood in them. He quickly browsed through the Heal page before flipping to the next one.


    Holy Light


    Evocation/Divinity Spell, No Domain


    Calling upon the Holy Light requires the caster to focus on a point, object, or creature he wishes to bathe in blessed light.


    Current Domain - None. No further benefits.


    Just like with the Heal, the rest of the page contained details about the spell, including relevant information that isn¡¯t included in the incredibly shortened description, such as that it protects, or as the book says ¡®wards¡¯, against the undead, or how long the light lasts, which was an hour.


    ¡°Took them only two pages to mention the undead¡­¡± George sighed as he read through the details of the Holy Light spell.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    It seemed straightforward enough. Point to a spot, imagine a light, and there would be light.


    Required component: a firefly, glowing gem, moss, or orb, or a piece of flame.


    George stopped after reading that line. Why that wasn¡¯t even mentioned in the overview was bizarre. Anyone sane would think to put something essential or required in the briefing.


    Then he realised that there wasn¡¯t even a mention of how he¡¯s supposed to use the component or what happens to it.


    George sighed again. The book provided both questions and answers, but so far pointed more of the former.


    He flipped the page again. The fourth page was empty.


    This was starting to get annoying.


    He flipped the entire book to get to the end. Empty. He threw the book out in frustration, then went and picked it up again after realising it was the most valuable thing he owned now.


    Considering that there really seemed to be nothing in this part of the cave, George decided to make a move. He considered which way to go but quickly decided to go towards where the spiders weren¡¯t.


    The corridor looked barren enough for him to just walk through without paying attention to the surroundings much, his steps resonating through the cave.


    After a minute or two he finally saw more light than the few dim freckles from the ceiling. The corridor suddenly opened to a chamber and the increase in light was mildly disorienting after his eyes got used to the dimness.


    There were a few slimes oozing about on the floor, several large mushrooms growing from what looked to be looser soil, and glowing moss spread on the wall. The chamber looked to be at least several meters tall, wide, and long, and was roughly circular.


    George could spot several that lead beyond the large chamber. But his mind was focused on one thing ¨C the moss.


    The book said he could use glowing moss to make light. Not really knowing how else to extract it, he scooped some of the nearby moss with his hand and started casting the spell.


    Considering it needed a viable point of focus, he decided his other hand would have to do for now. The spell did mention that a creature could be focused, which should logically include himself.


    Focusing on a bright light somewhere inside his mind, his hand slowly started to shine in a bright light that did a much better job of illuminating the area around him.


    In fact, you could say it did too well of a job, as the nearby oozes started going towards him. Unlike the previous green slime, these took on a reddish appearance and looked a tad more menacing.


    Considering his options, he decided to cancel the spell, hoping it would stop the slimes, only to realise such an option didn¡¯t exist.


    The slimes seemed slow enough for him to outrun, so he started going back into the corridor he came from, his hand still lighting around him.


    The slimes followed him, ever so vigilant, until he started to run, watching the slimes disappear into the distance.


    Before long, there were no slimes behind him in sight. He slowed down, eventually stopping to a halt, glad that that was over, but annoyed that it happened in the first place.


    He thought about killing the slimes but considered that, if what he assumed about them was actually the truth, his book wouldn¡¯t be sufficient to destroy the core. He needed something sharper and pointier, like an actual weapon.


    He considered going the other way, where the slimes weren¡¯t but decided to just wait out the light as it seemed it brought him more trouble than it was worth.


    An hour, and another dead spider, later, the his hand stopped glowing and George was back on his merry way. The spider died the same way the previous three did, in a swift clobbering by book, and the green slime returned, seemingly able to find anything dead close by and devour it. The green slime didn¡¯t attack him, refreshingly, and didn¡¯t seem to be agitated at all by the light, so he figured there are different types of slimes.


    Still only one coin and a book rich, George decided to go back to the slime area.


    The chamber was the same as when he left it, the slimes back to mindlessly oozing about. George decided to not spend any time admiring the chamber, considering he had no clue about the edibility of the mushrooms inside, and just swept some moss with his hand again and did the only thing he could to preserve it by shoving it into the pocket without a coin in.


    He slowly got to the other side of the chamber, spotting three similar corridors to go through. Considering that the one behind him had spiders in it, he decided to go left. He liked left, but was unsure why.


    Three minutes later, he came running back with three spiders following him.


    ¡°It had to be spiders.¡±

 Chapter 3: Book to Spider Combat

    The Dog Spiders, as he had grown to call them, were catching up to him and the prospect of going down another unfamiliar corridor didn¡¯t entice George, so he decided to fight in the chamber.


    One of the spiders leapt at him and he managed to swat it away with the book. When he found a way, he vowed he would get the edges of the book to be sharper.


    He didn¡¯t know if he could take three spiders at once, especially since one of them seemed to be really angry now. He also didn¡¯t know if he could take on the slimes.


    But he had an idea.


    He took the moss out of his pocket and started focusing on one of the spiders. He imagined a wisp of light going out from the spider and a few moments later, the spider was illuminated in light.


    The slimes immediately took notice of that, while the other two spiders looked disoriented by the sudden glow. George counted that as a double win.


    He pummeled the first spider to death with the book, while the slimes converged on the spider that was glowing. The spider actually shrieked while the slimes were engulfing him, obviously in pain. Apparently more than whatever the book did to them.


    The third spider bit deep inside one of the slimes, its fangs easily going through the soft ooze and pierced the small hardened core. Although it looked only like it was cracked, the slime surrounding it almost immediately pulsed, shimmered and then flowed into a pool.


    He was unsure if this was just a lucky shot by the spider, but he didn¡¯t waste time to think about it and brought down the book on the spider¡¯s head, crushing it instantly.


    ¡°Ha, the book is mightier than the sword.¡±


    The battlefield cleared, and what was left were three reddish slimes, three dead spiders, and one slimy core. The slimes again went on their merry way and George took a moment to examine the core of the slime. It was fairly round and didn¡¯t seem to serve many purposes, so he didn¡¯t bother picking it up.


    The next thing he did was try and shake one of the fangs out of the spider¡¯s head, and it managed to fall out rather quickly.


    The fang was just large enough to be considered a dagger, but he was worried about the structural integrity of it. It seemed hard enough, and it looked like it could pierce a slime¡¯s core, but he had no real way of testing anything beyond that. It certainly wasn¡¯t usable for cutting, but only for piercing.


    Having acquired a new weapon, George considered his options. He was starting to get hungry and thirsty, and he didn¡¯t think anything around him was edible.


    He decided to not venture into spider territory. But before he could go anywhere, the book he was holding started to glow. He opened the first page again. And now, it had changed.


    To the glory of ___________


    Please choose a Domain


    Please choose a Deity


    ¡°Choose a Deity? But where is the choice? Zeus?¡± George thought of the first Non-Christian God that came to mind, but nothing happened. Obviously. It would be too weird if it did.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    He was unsure of how the choice is made even. Or why the book was asking him for one in the first place.


    It started to look like a really weird game and he skipped the tutorial.


    He was intrigued by the prospect of choosing a Deity he knew nothing about but decided to shelve the idea for later.


    He flipped through the book, and nothing else had changed. ¡°Maybe more things get available if I choose a Deity.¡±


    He went back to deciding where to go. He assumed left would take him to more spiders, and he probably had more than enough spiders for a lifetime, he decided to go right.


    The corridor was silent, but he still held the fang up in one hand and the book in another. Maybe taking a second fang would¡¯ve allowed him to not use the book as a weapon, but he couldn¡¯t carry the book that way.


    The corridor made a few slow turns, but then visibly started having an incline. There didn¡¯t seem anything peculiar about the corridor, it looked no different between one section and the next.


    A few minutes of slowly going upwards, the terrain levelled again, and George was hoping that meant there was something more than just corridor.


    He was right.


    The corridor lead into a huge chamber, but it was almost pitch black. He considered the risks and had to take it. Going back down then back up another corridor was both time and energy consuming and likely to produce similar results.


    He took out the moss, that was still glowing faintly, from his pocket and started casting the Holy Light spell. The incantation was fairly innocuous and he wondered if the language actually made sense. He also wondered how he knew how to pronounce it correctly. But none of that mattered when the light shined up from the fang.


    The other side of the chamber was not even visible in the distance with the light on. Unlike the previous one, this actually looked more like a proper cave, with a lot of stalactites from the ceilings and as many stalagmites down below.


    He slowly went around the chamber, touching the walls as if they would somehow tell him secrets or open hidden doors.


    He walked to the other side of the chamber, looking around all the while, but stopped when something cracked under his shoe.


    There was a conglomeration of bones strewn about on the floor. It looked like a long forgotten battlefield to George, not that he had ever actually seen one. George counted a total of 6 skulls, peculiarly, of various shapes and sizes but most looked similar to a human¡¯s. The sixth skull looked more elongated, like an animal of some sort. He could only guess what it belonged to, so he didn¡¯t bother.


    Curiously, bones were all he found. There was no clothing, weapons, armours, bags, or anything useful at all, just bare bones. Usually, weapons don¡¯t decay as easily, so someone or something must¡¯ve cleared it all out. An image of green slimes passing over dead bodies only brought him a shiver down the spine.


    He entertained a thought of healing the overly dead bodies for a moment. Maybe he¡¯d become a necromancer or the like. But decided it wasn¡¯t worth the time.


    He was unsure about the precise detail, but the bones didn¡¯t look dirty. In his mind, old bones would gradually decay with time, but these ones looked like the models in biology class, apart from having various cuts and shatterings. To him, that signalled that they were relatively fresh, which made him both curious and afraid.


    He had to stop having useless thoughts that didn¡¯t bring him any closer to any answers and just continue. There was absolutely no sign of life around him, which was both a blessing and a curse. Something alive would mean that something can survive here apart from spiders.


    The chamber had a multitude of corridors, but he decided to go for the one opposite from where he went from. He hoped that would get him out of the cave sooner by some weird logic that might not even apply.


    After one curious dead end, George went through a corridor that actually looked different. It was a lot wider than the previous ones and he could even see small patches of mushrooms growing from the sides.


    And then finally, there seemed to be light from the end of the tunnel. His Holy Light still burned bright, but he decided to put the fang in the shirt and try to avoid the slime scenario.


    Walking out of the corridor, he took a long look at where he was and gulped audibly as he finally found something that wasn¡¯t a slime.


    It was a tip of a spear next to his neck, and a huge lizard holding it.

 Chapter 4: Tipped Off

    The large, or overgrown, lizard snarled at George. And he wasn¡¯t alone. There were a few more like him that George could spot without turning his head, or his eyes, from the spear.


    It looked rather sharp.


    The lizard snarled at him again. If he was speaking, George was a terrible listener. He just smiled and not nod in response. Seemed like an obvious thing to do when you didn¡¯t understand someone.


    George had instinctively held up his hands but was now contemplating on just giving the book in hopes it would net him his life. Maybe.


    He inched his arm down, but a small jab of the spear near his throat and another snarl put it back up again.


    Considering that he couldn¡¯t do much and that there was obviously a language barrier, George decided to at least have a good look at his executioners.


    The lizards were walking on two legs, something obvious from the fact that they were holding weapons. They had a colourful ridge of scales, similar to a mane, going from their forehead to the back he couldn¡¯t see, and they were mostly green otherwise, with a slightly yellowish chest and belly.


    After a few more snarls, even the lizard realised there was a major language barrier. He then turned to another one and produced less guttural and elongated snarls, as if making a proper sentence in another language.


    George was still in a dire situation with no way out. If there was a Deity that could help him, now was the proper time for one to appear.


    ¡°Look, can¡¯t we figure this out-¡± George spoke, then was promptly shut up by another jab with the spear.


    The stalemate of George¡¯s throat being near a spear tip continued until two lizards appeared. George assumed that one of them was returning, but they all looked terribly similar to one another. George realised that was a bit racist. Or speciesist.


    The ¡®other¡¯ lizard looked a lot slimmer than the few around him. George postulated that was a female, based on preconceived notions about lizard people gender differences.


    She stood right across him, being a bit taller than he was, and put a hand on his forehead. Then she started chanting in a completely different language, but it sounded similar to the chant he used for the spells.


    After the chanting stopped, George could feel a jolt on his forehead and his ears rang.


    The lizard opened his mouth again, but this time it was different.


    ¡°Who are you Human, and how did you get here?¡±


    That was a wholly different experience for George. The language didn¡¯t seem to change, but he could understand it now. It was obvious they weren¡¯t speaking English, but he clearly understood it as such.


    ¡°Ummm,¡± George gulped, trying to figure out if there¡¯s an actual answer, ¡°I¡¯m George, and I¡­ walked?¡±


    The lizard made a grimace, as much as his face could contort into one. ¡°Don¡¯t lie, Human. Nobody lives below us. How did you get here?¡±


    At least George was right, he was getting upwards. That still didn¡¯t help him to clarify.


    The woman lizard, or what he assumed she was, answered for him. ¡°Oh let it go, Kr¡¯Thuk.¡± The last part came out weird, and more snarly than English. Maybe whatever he was on, probably a spell, couldn¡¯t translate names well.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°You see he bears the mark of the Guardian. Let him go.¡± George was even more confused by that. He bore the mark of what? What was the mark? Was it the book?


    ¡°Hmpf,¡± the spear-holder did his best impression of disapproval and took the spear away from George¡¯s throat.


    George ushered a quick ¡°thanks,¡± then continued, ¡°but what is the mark, and what is the ¡®Guardian¡¯? And how do I understand you?¡±


    The lizard woman looked all over George¡¯s body and then into his eyes, then at the book. ¡°You have no idea where you are, don¡¯t you?¡±


    George just shrugged in response.


    The lizard woman looked more amused than anything. ¡°Astonishing. Humans usually say they know everything. You are weird,¡± she said with a chuckle. ¡°Follow me.¡±


    George and the lizard woman started walking slowly, making way through the cavern. Now that his life didn¡¯t seem in immediate danger, he could slowly get a glimpse of his surroundings.


    ¡°Umm, I still have no clue what you are talking about. And what did you do, with the forehead and me understanding you?¡± George¡¯s stance changed from alarmed to inquisitive.


    They passed at least several tents and more lizards. Whatever this was, these lizards were living here.


    ¡°Are you not a holder of a spellbook, George?¡± Her way of saying his name was a lot more like ¡®Grrrg¡¯ but he decided not to say anything about that. ¡°How can you not know spells?¡±


    George tapped on the book, which was somehow getting cleaned from blood by itself. ¡°It¡¯s mostly empty.¡±


    George could feel the lizard woman get more intrigued by him as he spoke. Perhaps he should start making more sense.


    ¡°Then maybe it isn¡¯t your spellbook,¡± she said bluntly, ¡°powerful magic surrounds a spellbook, and nobody but the owner can glean into its contents. You don¡¯t look like you could steal one, but looks can often be deceiving,¡± she spoke while looking directly into his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s a great boon if you have killed a sorcerer that would go against the Guardian, and you should be rewarded by him.¡±


    George decided to not provide more about the book until he knew more about everything. His mind wandered when he smelled burning meat. Like a barbeque.


    ¡°Before all that, could I have something to eat?¡± he asked, hoping that whatever they were doing was equivalent of making friends.


    The lizard woman just chuckled. ¡°Ha, humans, always wanting something.¡±


    She showed him towards one of the larger tents, and he followed her inside. The tent had a lot of, well it could be called furniture. There were pots, some sprawled out skins, some weapons, and a few really short tables.


    The lizard woman sat down at the table at the centre and motioned him to sit opposite her, so he did.


    ¡°I am Kr''thra, and we, the Grolari, welcome you as a fellow comrade.¡±


    George struggled to understand her. ¡°Wait, how are we comrades now?¡±


    ¡°We all bear the same mark of the Guardian,¡± she said, then pointed to a large tattoo on her side. It was nothing he had seen before and looked like one of those tribal tattoos that were ever so popular to get.


    A lizard entered a tent carrying some bowls and laid them in front of George. One had water, or what George hoped was water, in it, while the other had some grilled meat.


    He looked at the water bowl and saw his reflection. The same tattoo that the lizard woman, Kr''thra, had on her side was sprawled across half his face, going back down his cheek and chin and continuing towards his neck. It was both bizarre and cool at the same time.


    So, he was marked by something. And he¡¯s apparently buddies with the lizard people. Could be worse.


    ¡°But who is the Guardian?¡± George asked. Maybe it was the Deity he was supposed to choose for the book to ¡®work¡¯ in a sense.


    Kr''thra just opened her arms and waved at the air. ¡°Everything around us is the Guardian. We defend the Guardian¡¯s power, and in turn, he provides us with shelter and food.¡±


    So, not exactly a Deity. George is more like a slave. That just became worse.


    <hr>


    The Dungeon at Skull Mount woke from slumber and Far Sighted around it. It learned to do so every so often to be prepared for any invasion that might come its way. It cost a lot of mana to do so constantly, but an occasional one was great for gathering information.


    It saw a large band of people travelling from the east, the same direction the ones that took out the eastern core came from. They were surely coming to try and finish the job.


    The Dungeon started putting more traps on the entrance and alarmed its inhabitants to keep watch for enemies. It was only a few hours until the invaders came, and the Dungeon was adamant to win this time.

 Chapter 5: Take This and Live

    George wasn¡¯t really happy about being a glorified servant or a slave. The lizard people seemed to have little problem with it, but George wasn¡¯t really convinced.


    ¡°So, what, we defend-¡± George waved his arms similar to what Kr''thra did just before him ¡°all of this and then what? What exactly does ¡®all this¡¯ mean?¡±


    ¡°The Guardian provides us with a place to live and makes our food. What more could we ask of him?¡± Kr''thra shrugged and continued with her tale. ¡°The Guardian is powerful, and his stones of power are an object many covet for themselves or wish to destroy. That¡¯s why people like your kind come here and threaten our lives. And that¡¯s why we fight them.¡±


    That last part came a little too aggressive compared to the easy-going attitude she had. The ¡®your kind¡¯ part was almost threatening in a way. But George thought that if they wanted him dead, he probably would have been.


    ¡°So, why don¡¯t you just move away and live somewhere else? You can grow food and live anywhere you want. Why here, with the Guardian?¡±


    Kr''thra laughed heartily, then stopped cold. ¡°There¡¯s always a Guardian. Anywhere we would go, there would either be a Guardian or your kind. And your kind is much worse.¡±


    George didn¡¯t like the contempt he was getting, but he felt he couldn¡¯t really fix interspecies relations in a single meeting. Even less so when he didn¡¯t know anything about said species.


    ¡°So, we protect the Guardian here,¡± Kr''thra ended on a bit solemn note, then nudged the bowls towards him. ¡°Now, then. Eat.¡±


    He didn¡¯t really want to ask what the meat was. He was almost certain he wouldn¡¯t like the answer. So he just put the piece of roasted meat in his mouth.


    It could¡¯ve been anything at all, but at that point, George didn¡¯t care. At that moment, meat was meat and that meant food. He swallowed the piece in a few bites and gulped down the water as if he were in an eating competition.


    Before he could relax, the left side of his face started burning up in excruciating pain. He knelt down grasping at his face, wishing he kept the bowl of water to pour it on. He briefly got up and saw that the tattoo on Kr''thra¡¯s side was shining brightly, but that didn¡¯t seem to discomfort her even slightly.


    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± He asked between the yelps and screams.


    ¡°The Guardians is under attack, and is calling us to protect him.¡±


    ¡°Fine, fine, I¡¯ll do whatever, just make this stop,¡± George pleaded. He was momentarily rethinking his choice of refusing to be a slave if this kept up.


    The pain stopped just as suddenly as it started, and George wobbled back up, still grasping the left side of his face in his hands. ¡°That hurts. A lot.¡±


    Kr''thra just shrugged silently. ¡°It only does the first few times.¡±


    Then she jumped up and got out of the tent, and George followed her. The camp outside was busy. Lizard people, or people, as George thought of how to start calling them, were moving about, packing some tents away, exchanging weapons, strapping on some skins that probably served as armour. There was even a corner where they would put on paint across their face.


    ¡°So, what do we do now?¡± George asked silently as he followed Kr''thra who waded between her people. She stopped in front of a large lizardman, even compared to the ones he saw before.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Gaz¡¯Ruk, this is George. Give him something to do,¡± she said plainly. And thus, George was apparently left at the mercy of someone else, again.


    Gaz¡¯Ruk turned towards George, his stocky body making him look like an alligator with absurdly long limbs. That walked on two legs, of course.


    ¡°Grrrg,¡± he said plainly. George guessed that was his name from now on. ¡°You fight with me.¡±


    He turned around, grabbed something, then turned back and presented George with a spear. ¡°Take this. Live.¡±


    The spear was at least better than the fang he still had under his shirt but didn¡¯t know the first thing about spears. Actually, that wasn¡¯t true. He knew which end hurt when you put it in people. Now, how to put it in people was the hard part he would need help with.


    Gaz¡¯Ruk started walking about the camp, seemingly gathering troops, and George followed helplessly. He didn¡¯t feel like he had a choice in the matter. If they were getting attacked, he didn¡¯t know of a safer place than here, considering everything else was barren, had Dog Spiders, and didn¡¯t have anyone he could call an ally. Considering only one person tried to kill him here, he was pretty sure these were the only ones in the ally category.


    A few minutes later, a band of several lizardmen and one George had grouped up and travelled a few corridors away to another cavern. It was similar to the one he saw before with the pile of bones and he was unsure if that was a coincidence. He also realized that one of the skulls in that pile looked to be of a lizardman, which did nothing but scare him. It meant that one of them could die, and he was really concerned that, according to how these guys looked, that would probably be him.


    He was strapped in a loose-fitting piece of leather that hung around his shoulders, but everything else was what he brought with him. A book in one hand, and a spear that required two hands in the other, he followed the group of angry looking lizardmen silently.


    Gaz¡¯Ruk didn¡¯t seem big on words, preferring to issue commands with as few words, as translated in English, as possible. The group was to wait here and kill, not fight but kill per his brief words, anyone that came their way that didn¡¯t show the Guardian¡¯s mark, as they called the tribal tattoo.


    The few torches they brought with them were spread evenly across the cavern to provide enough light without needing to carry, and the group set about making an ambush. Per Gaz¡¯Ruk¡¯s words, the only way to get into this cavern from the outside would be from one specific corridor, and that was the one they were trying to ambush.


    George asked him about making an actual trap, but Gaz¡¯Ruk simply dismissed the idea. ¡°The Guardian uses traps.¡± That was it, concise and to the point. George wasn¡¯t sure if that was simple or difficult to understand.


    Nothing happened for a really long time, and then another sear of heat started across George¡¯s face. This one lasted shorter than the previous one but wasn¡¯t any less painful. George only had to look up to Gaz¡¯Ruk, which was far easier considering the lizardman was at least a head taller even while kneeling down in waiting, to get a short answer as usual.


    ¡°They have entered.¡±


    George couldn¡¯t hear much, and where he was sitting he could see even less, so he just set about to focus on what the lizardmen were doing and wait for their signal.


    What seemed to be a few minutes later, screams echoed through the corridor, then a lot of other noises, some voices and a lot of clanking. He even thought he heard fire blazing in the distance.


    What George thought to be a minute later, figures started to appear in the corridor, and voices could be heard more easily. He, of course, understood none of it but guessed this was the hard part.


    George gripped his spear tightly, which was probably not the correct way to do it but his mind decided to not figure that out until later, and left the book on the floor, covered in a loose piece of cloth he brought with him.


    The figures approached nearer, and he could discern four voices, all of them slightly ragged. He peeked from above the stalagmite they were hiding behind.


    All of the figures looked to be men. Two were in metal armour, carrying a sword and a mace respectively, each with a shield, the third had a bow in his hands and what George assumed to be a quiver strapped on.


    The last guy had a staff. An honest to... whatever Deity he was supposed to pick, a staff. And a large hat. And robes.


    This was looking more and more like a game. He looked over the group of lizardmen.


    And in that game, he seemed to be the bad guy.


    Gaz¡¯Ruk growled something incomprehensible, the lizardmen leapt over the stalagmites, and George realised something important.


    Allies probably needed to speak the same language for this to work.

 Chapter 6: Going in Blind

    George just sat and watched as seven lizardmen charged the four ¡®intruders¡¯ as they called them. He himself contemplated about joining them but then another idea popped up in his mind.


    What if he joined with the humans instead?


    Whatever this Guardian thing was, it was clearly not benign. And he was basically more or less a slave. These guys came here to destroy it. Perhaps helping them destroy the Guardian or whatever he was would set him free.


    This line of thought continued for a while as George absentmindedly watched lizardmen exchange blows with the two humans in the front.


    But how sure was he that the humans wouldn¡¯t kill him? The lizardmen seemed to take him as almost one of their own just because he had the tattoo on him, who was to say the humans wouldn¡¯t kill him for having one?


    George watched as the human in the back, the one with a bow, shot an arrow at a lizardman and hit one of its legs.


    George knew extremely little about where he was. Way too little to start switching sides, especially without knowing what the sides where.


    The guy with the staff did¡­ something, like a chant, similar to what George did when he cast his spells, and a literal ball of fire started moving from the tip of the staff towards the group. It hit the ground between them and even George could feel the eruption of rock and heat that followed.


    This was bad, but George had to make a choice, and he had to make it quick.


    To hell with it. Better with the people that didn¡¯t kill you at first sight.


    George was still not a fighter, but he thought about what he could do.


    He had but a few options. The spear was probably the worse one, as he was sure he would get his eye out faster than anything else.


    He had a book with spells. He might as well try to use it.


    He remembered what Holy Light did against the spiders. Maybe something similar would work here and now.


    He crawled to the nearest lit torch. He needed a piece of a flame, but it was never specified how literal that had to be.


    He started powering up the spell, focusing on the staff of the robed person, a wizard as he dubbed him. Holy Light required a stationary target, so if he could wait until he set the staff down¡­


    No, he could do it while the ¡®wizard¡¯ was casting a spell! Maybe.


    The ¡®wizard¡¯ started chanting again, putting his staff forward. That was the precise moment he could strike. Well, figuratively. George released the spell, focusing on the tip of the staff and imagining a small sun. If he was going to do it, might as well go all in.


    Before the wizard could stop chanting, a blast of light erupted from the tip and irradiated the cavern, blinding even George. Everyone present closed their eyes in shock.


    Luckily for George, the lizardmen seemed to get a hold of themselves first, getting back up and continuing their assault. One of the armoured humans was overwhelmed by lizardmen and George opened his eyes just in time to see the lizardmen digging spears into the breaks in armour.


    Horrified, George backed down behind the stalagmite. He just helped kill someone.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    He killed the Dog Spiders just a few hours before, and he was threatened even, but this was something different entirely.


    He tried to clear his head. This was apparently his life now. There was no longer going back. In fact, he was sure that there was no going back as soon as he opened his eyes for the first time in this darn cave.


    George took a moment to take a deep breath. In and out. In and out. It was time to get back out there.


    He wasn¡¯t sure what more he could do. The light was still shining, although not in full force, but the fighters seem to have adjusted.


    He saw a lizardman lying down in a small pool of red and another sitting down with arrows sticking out of him.


    Well, that made it pretty obvious what to do.


    George grabbed to book, as if that would do him any good, and ran to the lizardman with arrows sticking out of him. He powered a healing spell and started pulling on the arrows to get them out of the lizardman. At that point, he looked like a scaly pin cushion and George was determined to solve that.


    He hoped that Heals weren¡¯t speciesist and focused on the opened wounds. He had to do a few separate Heals since it quickly became apparent that one of them would only cover a small area at a time.


    He heard shouting coming from where the others were fighting and turned to look. The bowman nocked an arrow and George was pretty certain he was the target.


    Luckily for George, he provided enough of a distraction for Gaz¡¯Ruk to leap onto the bowman, making him miss a shot as an arrow whizzed past George¡¯s head and into the distance.


    Looking to the other side, the rest of the lizardmen were making short work of the remaining armoured human, and the wizard seemed to be impaled on a spear of his own already.


    George went over to one of the lizardmen with a nasty gash across his chest and started healing him.


    Soon, though, he felt short of breath. Any attempts to focus on the healing would result in dizziness, and he could barely walk. He tried to talk to the lizardmen, but just dropped down and lost consciousness.


    <hr>


    The Dungeon at Skull Mount was really happy at the progress. A lot of the people were cut down by its ingenious placement of traps, and some have lost their lives by trying to be cocky and make their way through the unstable ground it purposefully placed.


    The fleshbags seemed useful, taking out what it counted to be three separate groups of invaders. It was maybe wrong to call them overwhelmed just yet. One of the groups even seemed to have lost only one fleshbag to the invaders. That was a wonderful boon, and it wondered how it could make the others do the same.


    Soon enough, every invader would die and the Dungeon could feast on the life essence they left behind.


    Then, it would try to create more traps, and make itself even more secure. Maybe it was time to start making a new eastern core.


    <hr>


    George could feel a jolt on his forehead and winced as he opened his eyes. He had hangovers before and this was worse than any of them. He barely managed to sit up.


    He was back at the lizardman camp, and several lizardmen in cuts, some bandaged, were in front of him. A few of them were missing an eye, or a hand, or a part of the leg. But it seemed all would survive.


    He tried casting a Heal but a large pang inside his head notified him that would be a terrible idea at the time.


    He finally looked up.


    Kr''thra and Gaz¡¯Ruk towered above him.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t tell us you could cast spells,¡± Kr''thra said with an inquisitive tone to her voice.


    George winced and smiled. ¡°You never really asked.¡±


    Kr''thra smiled back. ¡°So, the book¡­¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s mine,¡± George answered curtly, and Gaz¡¯Ruk tossed it back at him.


    ¡°Good job, you lived,¡± was all he said before walking away.


    George turned back to Kr''thra. ¡°How long was I out?¡±


    ¡°A few hours,¡± she responded. ¡°We lost a total of seven people. Good people. We will mourn tomorrow.¡±


    George sighed. He helped kill a person. Or four actually. And one of the people he fought alongside died. Is this going to be the rest of his life now? Endless fights in which people died?


    He looked back at the book and opened the first page.


    To the glory of ___________


    Please choose a Domain


    Please choose a Deity


    He turned back towards Kr''thra. If he was going to play the game, he better learn all the rules. Back to square one.


    ¡°Do you know anything about Gods?¡±

 Chapter 7: Of Gods and Lizards

    A few hours and one painful headache later, George felt good enough to hold a proper conversation.


    Kr''thra and he were sitting back in her tent. George assumed this was her tent, although what she exactly was he had yet to learn. He seemed to be giving away more than what they did, but what little they told him would be pivotal to his understanding of where he was and how to survive it.


    Kr''thra seemed to be contemplating something, but George didn¡¯t know what. He didn¡¯t want to ask, though. He had asked her to tell him about Gods, and she just walked him into her tent.


    ¡°The Goddess that sustains us is called Korotha,¡± Kr''thra started speaking gently, slowly. ¡°She is the All-Mother of all the Grolari. She protects us from the uncertainties of this world, guides us as we struggle against the elements.


    ¡°She led us towards the Guardian,¡± Kr''thra continued. George had realised this sounded more preachy than the regular gaming infodump at the start. He was more used to God X does this, God Y does that, choose one.


    He was, of course, used to religion back home. He didn¡¯t partake in it much, and his family wasn¡¯t really particularly religious, but he understood the gist of it.


    ¡°Does your Goddess speak to you?¡± He interrupted Kr''thra.


    ¡°The Goddess does not speak to us directly,¡± she answered, ¡°but she guides us through the world. She leaves signs for us to find, visions of our past and future. She protects our children and cares for the lost.¡±


    It was difficult for George to truly understand what she was talking about. A lot of these could be a coincidence. He thought for a time that a god exists because people believe in it. That kinda metaphysical crap you look up on the Internet every once in a while.


    But if people think that someone created them, then they make the creator, it could be possible that the creator existed in the first place. Some sort of paradoxical situation that something exists because it had to have existed. Or something like that.


    George decided to lay off the philosophy of God¡¯s existence. A very real magical book was telling him to choose a God, so they must exist in one form or the other.


    Supposedly, if the Goddess of lizardmen existed, according to them, that must mean there are more Gods to choose from. George didn¡¯t feel like choosing this particular Goddess. He was sceptical that the book, or the Goddess maybe, would let him choose another one if he made a choice there and then.


    Kr''thra didn¡¯t say a lot about their Goddess. It seemed a bit generic even, a Goddess protector of a single race. It was starting to sound like a convoluted game to him.


    ¡°Well, do you know about any other Gods?¡± George asked. While he could probably sit here listening to what Korotha did or did not do, she didn¡¯t sound like a solid choice for the book.


    ¡°Your kind speaks of many Gods and Goddesses, George,¡± she answered briefly, ¡°but we do not partake in their affairs. Korotha protects us against them, and Korotha is the only Goddess we know.¡±


    Well, this was useless. George wondered if it was possible that there was only one God and different people called it different names, but then it would be counterintuitive based on what the book said.


    George didn¡¯t know why he went with the book so much. Sure, it apparently allowed him to access spells and provided questions and answers about what he was doing here, but books could be wrong too.


    He opened the book on its first page.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    The same three lines stood there, black ink that wouldn¡¯t be smudged. He kept wondering how the book work, but it just stood there, mocking him for all he knew.


    The only apparent way he knew of getting more information was to choose a Deity. He currently knew of one Deity and had no idea if there were any more Deities.


    George sighed. Was a rash choice that gave more options better than a calculated one you weren¡¯t sure when to expect?


    He hated this game.


    He turned to Kr¡¯thra again and found her drinking something out of a bowl. He didn¡¯t even notice the bowl there or anyone bringing it in. Even if she couldn¡¯t tell him about the Gods, she could probably teach him about a lot more.


    ¡°Teach me. Teach me about your people, the world, this place,¡± George waved at the air.


    Kr¡¯thra emptied the bowl, stood up, and beckoned him towards the outside. Time for lesson one.


    ¡°We came here dozens of moons ago when the Guardian was but small and weak,¡± Kr¡¯thra started talking as they made their way around the little camp. George wondered just how many lizardmen were in here.


    ¡°The Guardian showed us kindness, and provided us with shelter from the overworld and the people that chased us into here¡­¡±


    There was a lot to the story George would probably forget and have to ask again, but it was intriguing nonetheless. Apparently, the Guardian, or as George would understand it, the cave itself, is like a living creature, and they were similar to the immune system. It was a weird analogy, but it made sense.


    Of course, George remembered what he saw in the fight he had. It was so darn stereotypical. Four people, each one with a different weapon, fighting against something that wasn¡¯t human, and George apparently, inside a large cave.


    He was in a dungeon. Not the castle-y kind from history, but the ¡®filled with things that want to kill you¡¯ kind you encounter in games. It was that simple really.


    And George was a dungeon mob.


    With a book.


    What brought him to this place, he didn¡¯t know. But he was unsure if he wanted to stay here. After all, he knew what happened to dungeons. They get cleared.


    He already saw a part of that earlier today. Or yesterday. He had realised he lost track of time. It was evening back home when he appeared here.


    Kr¡¯thra told him about the camp they were in. Apparently, Gaz¡¯Ruk was leading this particular camp, but that was obvious at a glance. It seemed that there were a few camps like these throughout the dungeon, and George wondered how big it actually was.


    At his question, Kr¡¯thra just said: ¡°the Guardian is constantly growing, expanding, and so we grow with him.¡± George wasn¡¯t sure what part of that was figurative and what wasn¡¯t. It was weird how people that guide other people liked speaking in vague sentences.


    ¡°Now, I answered some of your questions,¡± Kr¡¯thra stopped next to a tent. ¡°It¡¯s time for you to answer ours.¡±


    There was no such thing as a free lunch, George chuckled.


    ¡°I¡¯m not certain I¡¯ll be of much use, to be honest. All I know is that I got here, somehow, and with this book,¡± George waved the newly ragged book in front of the lizardwoman¡¯s face.


    ¡°But you can cast spells,¡± Kr¡¯thra said, almost accusingly.


    ¡°I can cast two spells, yes,¡± George ceded. ¡°And I¡¯m not even sure how I can cast those spells. I mean, they¡¯re in the book, but that¡¯s it.¡±


    ¡°Books of spells are a strange thing, George. We¡¯ve seen some, as your kind frequently uses them. They are always shrouded in mystery, and what is written in them we never understood.


    ¡°But,¡± she pointed at the book, ¡°none of them look like that.¡±


    George thought about what she said, then realised that one of the people in the group that attacked them threw fire out of a staff. It would be safe to assume he cast a spell. So maybe he had a book he could learn from.


    ¡°Wait, did you keep any of the books from the people that come here?¡± George asked, hoping that lizardmen appreciated literature. Or had it in the first place.


    ¡°I do not think you will find much in the book if Ru¡¯rok couldn¡¯t do it himself,¡± she answered plainly, ¡°and we don¡¯t trust you yet to show youour birthing grounds, even with the mark of the Guardian on you.¡±


    George couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that there was an odd line he would have to cross between trust and familiarity he was skirting. Sure, he was technically together in a battle with these people already, but even he was still cautious of them.


    ¡°I will have someone bring you a book we have salvaged later,¡± Kr¡¯thra said plainly.


    ¡°But for now, you¡¯ll be staying with us,¡± as she said that, George realised they were near Gaz¡¯Ruk. ¡°And you will have to train to fight.¡±

 Chapter 8: No Reading Allowed

    Before he knew it, George was facing off against a lizardman. Both of them carried a long staff, similar in size to what their spears were.


    Around them were most, if not all of the lizardmen in the camp, somewhere around thirty in total, forming a natural circle around George and his trainer.


    ¡°Do I really have to do this?¡± He asked Gaz¡¯Ruk, who was staying on the side.


    ¡°You don¡¯t know how to fight, Grrrg. So we must teach you. Every Grolali knows how to handle a spear.¡±


    They explained this to him yesterday, but George was still not convinced.


    By yesterday, he meant before George found some sleep, as he didn¡¯t like to count passing out as such. It was weird, staying in a camp surrounded by people he didn¡¯t know.


    But he had no time to think about that. Now, he was armed with a staff, and he would be trained how to fight properly.


    ¡°But can¡¯t I just stay back and help? You see what I can do already.¡± Even while squaring off against his opponent-slash-trainer, George was adamant about complaining to the last moment.


    ¡°And you¡¯ll be useless when someone catches you alone, Grrrg.¡±


    That was horrifyingly true. Considering the only things he actually fought against were Dog Spiders, which was probably not their actual name but he kept forgetting to ask, he had no experience in anything remotely real in regards to fighting. He couldn¡¯t smack people down with a book, he was pretty sure of that.


    ¡°Now, try not to get hurt much,¡± Gaz¡¯Ruk told him, and George could spot the lizardman on the other side of the circle leap into action.


    The fight was over in seconds. What George was doing couldn¡¯t be really considered fighting. He was just trying his best to hit the enemy with the end of the stick. He failed magnificently as the lizard, whose name he, amusingly, understood as Go¡¯troll, just shoved one end of the staff into George¡¯s guts.


    He would end up doing that repeatedly, over the course of what seemed to be hours.


    Outclassed wouldn¡¯t even begin to describe how George felt as he was bruised repeatedly.


    On the fifth try, he actually managed to knock the staff away with his own, just to be hit on the shoulder instead.


    On the tenth, he got a concussion because he managed to slip and get hit by his own staff.


    On the twentieth, he was already done.


    He had already used Heal a few time, even if there was only some bruising involved and not an actual wound. Each time he would do that, the crowd would watch meticulously in awe as George performed the spell. He was already getting used to concentrating quickly on it and could feel that, unlike combat, he was getting better at casting the spell.


    The crowd quickly dispersed at meal time, and George was privy to another meal of questionable meat and water.


    ¡°Where does the meat come from?¡± He asked, eyeing the piece of a drumstick, talking to no one in particular as people chewed on their pieces.


    ¡°The birds, of course,¡± the lizard next to him answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.


    George didn¡¯t bother to ask further about his meals. He didn¡¯t really want to know anyway.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The Grolali seemed somewhat similar to lizards of his old world. They had huge meals after which they were mostly dormant. Which did explain why a small number of them didn¡¯t eat with the rest, in case there was something urgent that needed to be taken care of.


    George¡¯s estimates of time were thrown out of the window since he came into this place for the first time. There was no distinction between day and night, torches and campfires instead filling the role of producing light and heat in the large cavern they were in. The smoke billowed upwards, then disappeared when it reached the high ceiling, George being unable to discern where it came from. He chuckled at the thought of smoke coming out of the ground like a small volcano.


    After that meal, a group of lizardmen came from the corridor, carrying bags and pushing a small carriage with what seemed to be supplies. A single lizardman approached him and dropped a book into George¡¯s lap. Finally, George had something to work with.


    While most of the lizardmen lazed about, George sat in a corner, holding his incredible wealth of two books and a coin of indeterminate value. He completely forgot to ask about the coin, but that would have to come later.


    He traced the cover of the book, it being vastly more intricate than the ragged leather of his own. If there were letters on it, George definitely couldn¡¯t understand them.


    He opened the book, and it revealed large splotches of ink line after line. Whatever this language was, it was completely unreadable to him.


    He flipped through the pages and pages of writing. The owner, or the author, of the book certainly had small handwriting and wasn¡¯t keen on leaving pictures or illustrations in his work.


    George sighed audibly, at which point Kr¡¯thra sat next to him.


    ¡°Can you translate this?¡± He asked her and got a gurgle in response.


    After the spell that allowed him to understand her was cast again on him, eliciting the same spark on his forehead, Kr¡¯thra answered.


    ¡°No, none of us know what the writings in the books are, and none have managed to make sense of it.¡±


    George seemed lost. If they couldn¡¯t translate the books that were coming from the outside, and they seemed to have none of their own that would be useful to him, there was no other way for him to get the information he needed.


    He wondered what kind of a maniac would put him into this place, with a bunch of people that he could only understand if a spell was cast on him.


    And he couldn¡¯t learn that spell. He actually asked before he went to bed, and as soon as he started repeating the words Kr¡¯thra said were the spell¡¯s incantation, he started getting a headache. So, that was out of the realm of possibilities as well.


    The dormancy didn¡¯t seem to last long, after which the camp got rowdier, and George spent some time thinking about his predicament. He had an entire night to think about the book and what it meant to him.


    Even though he didn¡¯t want to admit it, the fact that the lizardmen seemed to be almost always combat-ready seemed to indicate he would probably need to catch up quick, either in combat or magic. And his magic seemed limited.


    He assumed picking a God would unlock, in a weird sense, more spells, or at least grant him more information from the book.


    Even if that meant serving the Goddess of lizardmen for what could possibly be the rest of his life.


    At least that would probably make the Glorali trust him more. So, that seemed like a decent choice to make.


    He opened his book on the first page again. Nothing had changed in the book, which was disappointing considering he actually was in a fight.


    George just wondered what consequences his actions would have, as he laid his hand on the page and spoke clearly. He imagined a lizard woman as if that would help in any way. He constantly lamented how little instruction he was given.


    ¡°Korotha.¡±


    The book started glowing, the writing on the page distorting quickly as ink moved about.


    He hadn¡¯t actually seen that before and it was fascinating to watch as the glowing page rearranged.


    Then he got up and threw the book away.


    He was done with the stupid thing for today. It was time to punch some things, and he had already killed a few Dog Spiders. They will have to do.


    He glanced towards the book, which managed to open itself on the first page while facing him, and sighed.


    Deity incompatible.


    Please choose a Domain.


    Please choose a Deity.


    He stomped to the spear rack, took a random spear out of it, then rushed out of the cavern, a lizardman or two following him out, perhaps out of curiosity, but George didn''t really care, or mind that.


    ¡°Where are you going, Grrrg?¡± asked one of the lizardmen, carrying a spear of his own.


    ¡°As Gaz¡¯Ruk said, I need to train to fight,¡± George answered bluntly.


    ¡°And right now, I really want to punch something.¡±

 Chapter 9: The Power of Three

    George wandered through the winding corridors, going in and out of the empty or mushroom-filled caverns.


    The two lizardmen behind him followed closely, muttering things between each other that George was too distracted to concentrate on.


    Finally, after several corridors, he spotted something. A lone Dog Spider wandered about, seemingly aimlessly, around a corridor.


    George stopped several meters short of the spider, eyeing it closely. The spider picked up on there being someone in the corridor and turned to face the three of them.


    George pointed the spear at the spider and rushed at it. It took him only a few seconds to reach the spider and fewer for the spear to lodge itself cleanly into the spider¡¯s head.


    He was unsure of how or why he was so precise, but he didn¡¯t care. He pulled the spear out, the spider¡¯s sticky blood coming out with it as well, and just moved on.


    He glanced at the lizardmen behind him, who just shrugged, grabbed harder onto their spears, and followed him further into the corridor.


    The next time he saw a Dog Spider there were three of them grouped up. The closest one noticed them and stood on its hind legs to show his large fangs.


    George yelled something incomprehensible to even himself, possibly reminiscent of a warcry, then ran into the spider with the spear.


    George thought that this shouldn¡¯t take too long, then looked towards the other two spiders, who immediately leapt at him.


    He somehow managed to avoid the first one by dodging to his left, but the second one caught his leg with one of the fangs.


    George yelped, half in pain and the other half in frustration, then speared the spider that bit him, so to speak.


    He glanced to where the third spider was but saw it already dead with a spear piercing through its abdomen and a smiling lizardman behind him.


    Considering he already learned the incantation for the Heal spell, he powered it up with one hand and used the other to pull the fang out of his lower leg.


    Blood gushed out of the wound and George pressed the glowing hand to it, trying to stop the flow and the pain from searing through his leg uncontrollably. He focused on the wound and it slowly started closing, leaving only a small round speck on the skin.


    He glanced at the lizardmen, who watched him with their eyes and jaws open in awe, even though they had seen him perform Heals the entire ¡®morning¡¯. But this was the first time there was an actual wound involved.


    With a smirk on his face, George got on his feet and carried onwards. He may not have been the best of fighters, but at least he¡¯d use what he was given.


    He wasn¡¯t really sure why he was smiling. He was angry at the world. It made no sense whatsoever to him.


    He was literally branded by something he clearly didn¡¯t understand well and seemingly had no way of communicating with, he was given a book that didn¡¯t answer anything and pose too many questions at once, and he was living with literal overgrown lizards. He wasn¡¯t racist, and he repeated that sentiment in his head a few more times, but it was unnerving to have them.


    And humans seemed to actively want to kill him.


    So it was a real surprise as to why he was smiling ear to ear as he walked through the dimly lit corridor with two lizardmen at his heel.


    But he enjoyed it nevertheless. He somehow felt free.


    He remembered how his life was before. He wasn¡¯t poor, nor was he particularly rich. He had some interests and hobbies, some form of a social life and whatnot, and his hobbies in games clearly were either helping him or guiding him the wrong way in all this mess.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    George didn¡¯t really mind, though, at this moment. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but he didn¡¯t mind being angry at the world he still knew almost nothing about, but could guess was complicated in its own right.


    He stopped thinking about the world and how little or much sense it had when he finally saw the corridor widen.


    The three of them stepped into the next cavern, and George finally lost the smile on his face. It was teeming with Dog Spiders of various sizes. They skittered about, each apparently with a purpose of its own.


    He couldn¡¯t see much, largely because there wasn¡¯t almost any light present, the few ¡®natural¡¯ sources of it on the ceiling covered in thick webbing.


    Still facing the pile of spiders in front of him, George asked his companions behind him bluntly: ¡°Just to make sure, they are not venomous?¡±


    ¡°They are not, Grrrg,¡± one of them answered, ¡°they usually use their numbers and sheer force.¡±


    The spiders have apparently noticed them by now and had started moving towards the three.


    George was still angry at the world, but in that anger was just a tiny bit of fear. That, unfortunately, kept growing as time went by.


    He gripped the spear tight in one hand and pointed towards the ceiling with the other.


    The incantation for Holy Light was much more complicated and required a few precise hand movements, and George was pleasantly surprised that he could replicate them perfectly only after a single night in this world.


    He wondered if that was the book¡¯s, or this world¡¯s, doing but shelved the thought for later.


    There were spiders to kill around him.


    A bright yellowish light irradiated the cavern, and George could see far more clearly around him. The large oblong cavern stretched for some dozens of meters, the other side covered in webs and threads and strands of silk. There even appeared to be some egg sacks put next to walls or hung from the ceiling.


    But that didn¡¯t really matter to him at the moment. What did matter was that the group of spiders did a collective hiss and pointed their fangs at them.


    There were at least twenty spiders in the cavern, if not more. George audibly gulped.


    Maybe this wasn¡¯t such a bright idea.


    He glanced at the two lizardmen, who gripped their spears tightly and nodded slowly at him.


    The spiders ran at the three of them, and the three of them ran back.


    George was instantly and visibly overwhelmed. He would jab at the spider in front of him, only to have another one swipe at his legs.


    He sucked at dodging so much that by the time he killed two spiders, he already had a fang in each of his legs.


    He stumbled down, unable to stand with so much pain radiating from his limbs. A spider leapt directly at his face but George managed to move the spear directly in front of him, the leaping spider skewering itself on the large metal tip.


    But George couldn¡¯t get the spider off the spear quickly enough and was promptly jabbed in an arm.


    Yelping in pain, he shook violently, managing to get the spider off by some miracle, and immediately started Healing the wound. He didn¡¯t even concentrate hard, just enough to alleviate some of the pain.


    After tugging on the spear again, he managed to get the skewered spider off and jabbed at the next spider.


    Then the two spiders that caught his legs started to pull, knocking him forwards. He tried to shake either one off but was unsuccessful, the spiders slowly pulling him through the dirt floor.


    He glanced to his sides and saw the two lizardmen quickly dispatching the spiders they were against, each one much more suited at this job than George was, but still receiving wounds of their own.


    He screamed for help, at which point one of the lizardmen noticed him and limped towards George, immediately spearing one spider when he got in range.


    Now that the pulling slowed down, George managed to punch the spider, but that didn¡¯t stop it.


    George started turning and more pain came when the fang inside his leg started pressing on the sides of the wound. With a pop, the fang came out and more blood gushed out.


    He immediately started the Heal, disregarding that there was a dead spider with a fang inside his other leg.


    The Heal took him a while to do properly, as this was the most ambitious one he¡¯d done on himself. Finally managing to relieve the pain, George could look at the battlefield once again.


    The spiders were either dead or about to be, and the two lizardmen had a wound or two to themselves.


    George pulled the fang out of his other leg, used his Heal again, not even closing the wound completely that time since he was already feeling weak, then went towards them.


    Each application of the spell took him more and more time and left him feeling increasingly tired, and by the time he was done the lizardmen only had minor scarring where the piercing holes have been.


    Exhausted, he fell onto the floor, surrounded by dead spiders and very much alive, and laughing, lizardmen.


    Hearing their guttural laughs made George laugh as well. He lived. Not without some serious help, but he survived, even if it was only against spiders.

 Chapter 10: Death and Slimes

    George laid on the dirt floor, aching from combat, exertion of using spells, and laughing aftwerwards. He watched the two lizardmen slowly get up on their feet, and he could hear something approaching them, if ever so slowly.


    He turned towards one of the corridors and saw a green slime slowly oozing towards the dead spiders. The first time he saw the slime, he was curious, and that curiosity didn¡¯t wane yet.


    He slowly got up, trying to get a better look at the slime. He moved closer to it, clearly seeing its dark green, rocky core inside the bubble of slime that was protecting it.


    The slime surrounded a dead spider, the carapace dissolving quickly as the ooze made short work of the corpse. It didn¡¯t take long for the gooey slime to darken in colour, now becoming more olive instead.


    There were a few more slimes coming from the corridors, and the dead spiders were completely gone after at most a few minutes. George wondered what would happen if he were to touch one, but decided against it after seeing how quickly the corpses were dispatched of. It wasn¡¯t an unreasonable assumption that the slime was toxic, acidic, or both.


    At that moment, the slimes spat out a few nuggets of metal on the dirt, and George curiously took one. It was similar to the coin he had in his pocket, a featureless circular lump of metal.


    Picking up the other pieces strewn on the floor, George was now five ¡®coins¡¯ rich, even if he didn¡¯t know how much they were worth if anything.


    He asked one of the lizardmen that were idling by. ¡°How much are these things worth?¡±


    He realised he hadn¡¯t learned either of their names.


    The lizardman came up to him and plucked the coin with his rough fingers, then eyed it intensely.


    ¡°It could be melted down into something useful, maybe. We have seen these before, and the invaders seem to have them in throngs, but we don¡¯t know what for.¡±


    He bit on the coin, the metal giving way to the sharp teeth. ¡°It looks too thin for anything useful, would have to get smelted properly. But I don¡¯t know much about it.¡±


    The lizardman handed the now deformed coin with a side of saliva to George, at which he just grimaced. ¡°You can keep that one.¡±


    The lizardman shrugged and put it into a pouch on his hip.


    George looked around the cavern, now devoid of spiders. There were a lot of webs around, and the egg sacks laid in corners. George approached one of the sacks slowly.


    The spiders didn¡¯t seem all that useful, but George didn¡¯t really want to do anything to the sacks. If there were smaller spiders inside and he pierced it, they¡¯d just end up with crawlies on the floor that would get in the clothes.


    ¡°Do we burn them?¡± He glanced at the lizardmen and pointed at one of the sacks. He wondered if slimes would come again if they did so.


    ¡°Although it may not look like Grrrg, the Hunting Spiders are a part of the Guardian. We probably should have avoided killing them in the first place.¡±


    George finally learnt how the spiders were called, at least by the lizardmen. If they were hunters, he wasn¡¯t sure of their efficiency.


    He was curious by what the lizardman meant about the spiders being a ¡®part¡¯ of the Guardian. He remembered Kr¡¯tcha telling him that the ¡°Guardian was everything around them¡±, but couldn¡¯t put his finger on what exactly that meant.


    The Guardian didn¡¯t seem to be a Deity, and he wasn¡¯t sure what exactly it did, but the Grolari seemed to indirectly worship it as something more powerful than them.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    If the spiders were a part of the Guardian, and the Grolari were dependent on it, what did that make him exactly?


    He touched the left side of his face, remembering the tattoo on it that sprawled towards his neck. There was so much more he needed to know.


    And he didn¡¯t know of the time.


    ¡°Let¡¯s just go back then, I guess,¡± George sighed as the three of them picked up their weapons and left the now almost empty cavern, just as the light on the ceiling gave out.


    <hr>


    The Dungeon was confused. There were a few traces of life next to several rapidly disappearing ones. The fleshbags weren¡¯t supposed to be fighting one another.


    The dying creatures were nothing special, and he could see that investing more in the Spiders was a futile effort. When it was a fledgling, the Spiders just appeared nearby, and it had considered that they would be enough to start with.


    It could feed off their dormant energy, slowly growing in size and influence in the ground while the Spiders lived and died on their own accord.


    The first invasion saw the Spiders being killed left and right, while only a few invaders had died. The loss of life was nowhere near enough to be comfortable to the young Dungeon.


    The slimes were made to clean everything up after all the death. While the Dungeon revelled in death, it didn¡¯t appreciate being surrounded by the remains of it after the energy was siphoned from the bodies.


    The slimes seemed to be suitable for that task. It didn¡¯t know how or why it knew how to create slimes, just that it did.


    In essence, the slime was a really minute version of a Dungeon. Just like the Dungeon stored energy in its cores that it hid around the caverns it had to make, the slimes protected their little core in, well, slime. They fed on the dead, and in some cases the living, just like the Dungeon did, and the Dungeon of Skull Mount was proud of making the few varieties of slimes as it developed and learned.


    It wasn¡¯t until long since it had started living that the Dungeon learned that some humans could be bargained with. They seemed to have a love for metal and ore, particularly in incredibly thin circle shapes.


    Compressing useless metal into small lumps wasn¡¯t particularly hard to do, and making the slimes carry them was even easier.


    Distributing the lumps to the humans was a tricky task. The Dungeon hoped that it could protect its cores by giving the Humans some when they killed anything else inside, from Spider to fleshbag, to another invader. The latter seldom happened to the Dungeon¡¯s lament, as that would mean fewer invaders to worry about.


    Some people would pick up on the metals, and leave the Dungeon alone when they killed Spiders in the few upper chambers. The Dungeon was happy with this arrangement but still wished more invaders would die in the process. It would grow much slower if it had to spend time giving metal away for no apparent return.


    But there were only a few people like that approaching the Dungeon. A lot of them seemed intent on the cores.


    And such was another large group that approached it from the west, especially so soon after the previous one.


    Traps would need to be set again, and the fleshbags inside put to use again. The large number of fleshbags near one of the cores seemed to be doing quite well off, and no invaders reached them yet. They even managed to make weapons similar to the invaders¡¯ and distribute them to other fleshbags.


    Maybe the fleshbags could be rewarded more for keeping the invaders in check. They even managed to lose less than usual yesterday. But right now, they needed to be put to use again.


    Maybe later though, as the Dungeon needed to focus on the defences and the group seemed far away still. The western side seemed easier to see far into than the others, but it didn¡¯t know why. The Dungeon learned a new trick, though. The invaders didn¡¯t like being on fire. And fire was easy enough to make.


    <hr>


    Kr¡¯thra wondered where George stormed off, his fleshy face turning red as he did so. The humans Gaz¡¯Ruk told about seemed dangerous and menacing, but George seemed helpless at times. He couldn¡¯t even fight properly and seemed to be lost.


    She had wondered how he got here, or why. And why was he intent on learning about the Goddess that much, then throwing it all away.


    She knew Humans were a different sort, but George was different from them still. She could feel something weird about him, but could also feel that he was a part of the Guardian just like everyone in the tribe was.


    He still needed to be watched more before he could be trusted completely, and she would definitely do that.


    He was useful, that was for sure, as what Gaz¡¯Ruk told her when he got Varash back from near death was unimaginable. They knew of magic, sure, they¡¯ve encountered Humans who used it as well, and many of her friends fell to it, but it was the first time they had someone that used that kind of magic on their side.


    She felt a tingle down her side. The Guardian would be calling them again soon.

 Chapter 11: Falling Short

    Somewhere along the fourth corridor, while George was heaving as he walked back towards the camp, sweat visible on his face, his face started burning again.


    He fell over, already exhausted from using his Heals repeatedly, and clutched at his face. It was a familiar sensation, even if it was slightly weaker than the first time it had happened.


    George was in mild shock, sweating and swearing profusely, and the two lizardmen behind him slowly picked him up and started supporting his steps.


    He couldn¡¯t even fathom what was happening. He was exhausted, and he was now apparently going to get used as a line of defence for his malevolent contractor. There was no way he was capable of being of use to these people.


    They made their way to the camp, only to see the lizardmen already running about, clearing tents, picking up arms and gathering in tight groups.


    Gaz¡¯Ruk appeared before them, took a single look at George, and shouted something at someone far away.


    ¡°I¡­ can¡¯t do anything,¡± George slurred the words as the world around him spun in pain.


    ¡°Nonsense, Grrrg,¡± Gaz¡¯Ruk replied. ¡°You just need some good stuff.¡±


    George¡¯s curiosity and disorientation had peaked as he saw someone handing Gaz¡¯Ruk a small vial with greenish goo inside.


    Gaz¡¯Ruk opened George¡¯s mouth forcefully, George¡¯s feeble attempts at defending himself moot, and shoved the contents of the vial into George''s throat.


    George gulped, swallowing the sticky, sour goop. Almost immediately the pain in his head stopped completely and he could feel coherent thoughts forming in his head again.


    Whatever that was, George would need to learn to make it. It seemed invaluable, even compared to him being able to Heal wounds away.


    Before he could voice any concerns, questions, or comments, Gaz¡¯Ruk replaced his gooey spear with another one, put some sort of a leather piece that should function as armour for his chest, and gave him his book back.


    Apparently, they considered the book a part of him, and George couldn¡¯t but agree that there was an attachment towards the book in some way.


    He noticed Kr¡¯thra among the crowd of lizardmen running about and gave her a quick wave. He could hear her say ¡°good luck¡± before Gaz¡¯Ruk and the group he was apparently with started walking into a corridor, prompting him to follow them.


    The group, now counting ten, made a makeshift ambush to wait for invaders in the same cavern they did before, George considering they¡¯ll utilise similar tactics as before. He wasn¡¯t nearly as sure in what Gaz¡¯Ruk was thinking at any point in time, but it would appear that the rest of the group went along with it regardless, so he resided to do the same.


    Another sharp pang coursed through George¡¯s face as he tried his best to reserve his spells for later, realising that his adventure with the Hunting Spiders could have serious, and dire, consequences.


    He sat down and tried to calm his thoughts, looking through the book for any possible advice. He remembered why he went to kill the spiders, in anger for being denied one single avenue he knew of getting more information and help.


    At the same time, he thought what would constitute a compatible Deity, but decided to not delve on the matter for long. He didn¡¯t even know of any others, let alone what he¡¯d have to do to get the book to acknowledge them.


    The group sat mostly in silence, occasionally exchanging a word or two, but generally waiting to hear something significant coming their way.


    None of the corridors seemed to be interesting or lively for a while, and then one of them didn¡¯t.


    It was a similar situation from last time. Yells and screams could be heard in the distance as other sounds rose above them, namely of clashing metal. The sounds continued, slowly getting closer and more intelligible.


    The corridor was then lit in a bright orange light as a sound of a fire swept through it, eliciting more yells from whoever was in the corridor and gulps from George. Whatever these people were doing, it seemed they were not having a good time.


    He wondered what exactly can the Guardian do and if it was behind such things. These looked to be traps, but George was certain he didn¡¯t notice, or trigger, any on his way through the corridors. He considered that not all of them would be trapped but that would seem bizarre. If he were to be defending something, there was no reason to put traps in only a few of the routes.


    He could now distinguish steps out of the corridor and peeked above the stalagmite he was sat behind.


    There were eight people in front of him, and not all appeared to be human either. One was too short to be one, although the huge beard and a stubby body made was a telltale sign of George¡¯s worldview of how Dwarves looked in fiction.


    The other non-Human was tall, lanky, and had long ears. That, alongside him having blond hair and carrying a bow, made George ever so curious if where he was wasn¡¯t actually a game all along, and he just glitched out.


    But the pain he felt before was definitely weird.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The eight people just outside the corridor looked around the cavern as George¡¯s own group lay in wait, until Gaz¡¯Ruk made a slight noise and all of them got up and charged at the ¡®enemy¡¯ as George would brand them for the time being. After all, the people next to him helped him lots, and the people on the other side were coming here to kill the Guardian. That made them enemy enough for now.


    George gripped his spear and lied in wait again, trying to see if he could reproduce what he did the first time. He found a spellcaster, by his standards, in the enemy¡¯s ranks. This time there seemed to be two of them, as there were two people in too little armour to be warriors like the people with large weapons in front of them.


    He picked one of them and charged the Holy Light again, trying to focus on something that didn¡¯t move much or at all. He decided to go for the cowl of the robes of one of the people, the one that looked to be oldest in the bunch and imagined a light beaming out of it.


    He didn¡¯t focus on the extravagant amount as the last time, seeing as there appeared to be limits to it, and settled for remembering the Holy Light from his first encounter with humans.


    A moment later a bright light burst from the wizard¡¯s cowl and everyone dropped what they were doing momentarily until people started to adjust.


    George thought that he could possibly be of more use if he could actually delay the spellcasting of the enemy more instead of retrying the same old tricks.


    He powered up a Heal and ran quickly to the first wounded lizardman he saw, eliciting some shouting from the enemy. He glanced towards them and saw a snippet of confusion on their faces, before steeling his resolve, gripping the spear, and charging headfirst into the closest human he could find.


    His spear didn¡¯t connect, naturally. In fact, it didn¡¯t even come close. A sword came between him and the target and George was forced to stop and look at his new enemy, a large heavily-armed human in shiny armour.


    He spotted Gaz¡¯Ruk by his side and hoped the lizardman could help him if George managed to attract enough attention.


    In hindsight, maybe he should¡¯ve considered his actions better. The human in front of him swung his sword towards George, and he tried his best to dodge in return.


    The blade reached just far enough and searing pain lit up the right half of George¡¯s face. The next thing he saw was Gaz¡¯Ruk¡¯s blade going through the human¡¯s neck.


    He immediately grasped his face and backed down screaming. Everything around him was covered in red. The pain coursing through his face was insufferable. Whatever the Guardian had been doing was nothing by comparison.


    George immediately started the Heal spell. He couldn¡¯t see the wound to concentrate on it, but there really wasn¡¯t anything else to concentrate on.


    Light erupted from his palm and removed what little sight he had left for the moment.


    He staggered back to his feet and touched around until he could lean against a wall. He started stumbling in what was to him a random direction.


    There were screams and grunts and clashing behind him, and that was enough. He was moving away. He wasn¡¯t made for this, and cursed through his yelps as he staggered on.


    His left hand, the one that grasped his face, was warm and wet. The Heal couldn¡¯t even work properly when he needed it the most, apparently. He was utterly useless at everything.


    George turned just in time to spot Gaz¡¯Ruk impale someone with his sword. But the lizardmen were still overwhelmed. He turned back and staggered again, his face still in agony.


    He powered the Heal once again, already starting to feel the familiar fatigue. His breaths were shorter and shorter. He wished there was more green goo to gulp down.


    Another sear of pain erupted from his lower back and George fell to his knees. What little he could see was the blood that dripped from his hand and face. He tenderly touched his back with the other arm and felt hard wood sticking out just above his right hip. He looked to his stomach and a tip of the arrow stuck out.


    He glanced back towards the fight. There seemed to be more chaos and screaming than before. He could no longer discern who was fighting whom or who his allies were. They were all a mesh of screaming and clashing.


    He saw a lizardman fall just a few meters from him, arrows sticking out of his chest. He turned back, staring at the end of the cavern where his book was.


    George knew he shouldn¡¯t take the arrow out, but it just hurt so damn much. His breaths ragged and shallow, he crawled towards the book on two legs and his free hand, each crawl another piece of agony, still grasping at his face, futilely trying to Heal himself.


    Reaching the book, he took a final glance towards the fight. Gaz¡¯Ruk was still standing, but barely, surrounded by two people he couldn¡¯t discern. There were a few more lizardmen around, one sat against a wall, and a few more people around them.


    He turned towards the useless book. Page one was still as useless as ever, the three lines stood unmoving in their mockery.


    To the glory of ___________


    Please choose a Domain


    Please choose a Deity


    He started yelling.


    He yelled at the world, at whichever God might be listening, at his life. But mostly, he just yelled.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know any fucking Gods that work! What kind of a stupid book is this!¡±


    On his first day here, he thought this was so similar to a game. Everything just looked too unreal to be true.


    Drops of blood splattered on the yellowed page, slowly staining it red before the book started cleaning itself.


    ¡°This is crap! Does this look like a game to you?¡± He shouted at the air, hoping someone would hear.


    George knew this was so far off from a game.


    His breaths became more ragged as he tried to yell some more. He put the bloodied hand away from his face and onto the first page of the book.


    He was losing and they were most likely going to die. And this was not a game.


    He needed someone to help him. Anyone. Someone strong. He needed salvation.


    He needed a victory.


    Because this wasn¡¯t a game, but war.


    And he couldn¡¯t afford to lose. His mind started scrolling through images as if anything would help.


    He thought of women in scantily clad clothes on wings with swords in their hands, old wise men with spellbooks and staves. People with bows, axes, hammers, swords, tanks, and piloting aeroplanes. Fearless warriors with nothing but a weapon challenging many.


    He imagined whatever he thought a battle would be, blood and chaos and yelling and death. He wasn¡¯t sure why he was obsessed with those images, but there was no real reason to think of anything else.


    The book started glowing in a bright yellow light, the pool of blood on the first page distorting slowly, and George winced as he tried to look at the pages.


    Written in blood-red, bold letters were three words:


    ¡°Domain chosen: War¡±


    George¡¯s consciousness gave way and all he could see was white.

 Chapter 12: What is War

    Gaz¡¯Ruk glanced at his fallen allies and wept a single tear of sorrow before returning all his attention to his foe.


    The enemy has come in greatest numbers yet, and he had feared for what would happen if they fell in this cavern. The others would be barely protected, so he must be the one to protect them instead.


    An arrow narrowly missed him, rousing the air nearby instead, and Gaz¡¯Ruk lunged at his opponent with his blade. They appeared equal in skill to him, but the same could not be said for Gaz¡¯Ruk¡¯s own group.


    He feared he would be outnumbered, and tried to make any sort of plan as he moved his left leg just out of the way of his enemy¡¯s blade.


    Gaz¡¯Ruk was already cut and bleeding from one side and glanced away to see if Grrrg was nearby, but couldn¡¯t find him. A blade came down on him and he was forced to block it with his own, metal clashing against metal as the sounds didn¡¯t die down for a while.


    He could hear grunting and screaming and yelling all around, his men either fighting or dying or both.


    Grrrg was either supposed to fight or help, but he was nowhere to be found. Gaz¡¯Ruk sighed in his thoughts and continued onwards.


    By a stroke of luck and his enemy¡¯s carelessness, Gaz¡¯Ruk managed to find an opening in his defences and shove his blade as deep as he could. The foe yelped in pain and briefly held on to Gaz¡¯Ruk¡¯s sword before he pulled it out.


    He watched as blood started running down the enemy¡¯s armour but couldn¡¯t afford to spare time idling.


    By that time, most of his men were not in a condition to fight, and there were still three enemies on the other side of the cavern.


    That wasn¡¯t right. He was sure there was another one nearby. He turned back and saw another enemy lean forward, probably looking at something. He couldn¡¯t get a decent view but went for him regardless. If there was one of his men down, he had to make sure to save at least him.


    He rushed forward and could now see Grrrg splayed down, covered in blood and with an arrow in his back. The enemy was just about to stab him, and Gaz¡¯Ruk tried to help by putting his sword between the two.


    At that moment, Grrrg¡¯s body glowed red and both of them fell to their knees. The air felt heavy, Gaz¡¯Ruk struggling to breathe.


    His eyes locked on Grrrg as the lanky man slowly stood up, as if without a care in the world. He traced the arrow on his back, still facing away from Gaz¡¯Ruk, then broke the arrow off and pulled the halves out.


    Grrrg then turned towards their enemy and Gaz¡¯Ruk could see that his eyes were glowing bright red.


    Grrrg picked up Gaz¡¯Ruk¡¯s sword, then deftly sliced at the human in front of him, who was at that moment staggered.


    Blood poured out of the human¡¯s neck where his head used to be and the lifeless body thumped down loudly as Gaz¡¯Ruk¡¯s eyes went back towards Grrrg.


    Whatever he did, this seemed like a completely different person.


    The heavy air around Gaz¡¯Ruk slowly glowed bright and he could feel his pain alleviate and his bleeding slowly stopped to a halt. He felt rested and ready to fight again, even somehow eager to do so.


    Grrrg dropped Gaz¡¯Ruk¡¯s blade and he picked it up energetically, looking towards the three remaining humans who were staring at the scene in shock and fatigue.


    He charged them and was confusingly faster than he used to be, his legs lighter and his breaths shorter as he pulled his sword to sweep at the first enemy in range.


    His eyes caught Grrrg slowly moving towards one other human with a sword in hand, slowly watching as the enemy stumbled into a fighting stance of sorts.


    Gaz¡¯Ruk¡¯s blade cut deep into the enemy who seemed too terrified to even move properly in response.


    He wasn¡¯t sure what was going on of what Grrrg did, or if this was even him, but he was thankful.


    He watched as Grrrg, one eye glowing red and the other looking just like a gash on his face through which the same light emanated, slowly went up towards the human, shoved the enemy¡¯s sword out of the way and pierced his own squarely in the stomach, grinning all the while.


    Gaz¡¯Ruk looked around, but couldn¡¯t find anyone else, the coward probably running off in the meantime.


    He looked at his injured men, then back at revitalized Grrrg as the latter slowly moved around the battlefield and healed the ones that were still alive. It didn¡¯t look like enough to save them completely, but it must mean they still had a chance.


    They had won, and Gaz¡¯Ruk audibly cheered. Grrrg turned towards him, the air around them thinned, his eyes stopped glowing, and he dropped down like a doll on the ground.


    Gaz¡¯Ruk rushed towards him and checked to see if he was still breathing, then sighed in relief as he felt slow breaths from the chest of the young man.


    Kr¡¯thra was right like she always was, the man was a mystery. And he wanted to keep the mystery on his side.


    <hr>


    The Dungeon at Skull Mount was both pleased and horrified. Pleased with the result and horrified of how it came to be.


    The enemies were mostly defeated and it would seem they won¡¯t manage to advance towards any of the cores, which was a good thing. However, there was something different about one of the caverns.


    The mana inside it felt wrong. The Dungeon knew what kind of mana it could produce and supply the residents with, but this energy was all sorts of different.


    The sudden surge of mana in one cavern was completely unnatural and uncontrolled and caused the Dungeon to focus all its attention towards it.


    The energy seemed to radiate from one of the fleshbags, and it was almost sure it was not an invader. The controlling mark on its skin seemed to fight against the energy, and the Dungeon could feel the energy fighting back.


    Then, it was over just as quickly as it started. The energy was gone, there was only a trace of mana left that was slowly dissipating around the cavern, and the fleshbag seemed just like before.


    The Dungeon could feel it still held on to the fleshbag with its mark, but something like that had never happened before. It was unsure of what to make of it, but it was certain it had to now keep some focus on that particular fleshbag as well.


    If it turned out that there was a threat coming from that energy like before, the fleshbag would have to be disposed of. And it was a simple task of letting go of the mark. The traps would probably do the rest shortly.


    But for now, the fleshbag should be studied. It seemed much more powerful than the rest, of course not as powerful as the Dungeon itself as that would be a silly thought to anyone, but it would have to be kept under watch.


    Letting go its attention at the peculiar fleshbag, the Dungeon looked towards the camp of invaders that were outside the main entrance.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    It was unsure, but it had a bad feeling of what was soon to happen. And there always had to be consequences when a Dungeon was threatened.


    <hr>


    George woke up with a scream. He grasped at his face and tried to feel what had happened to the right side of it. Then he noticed he was no longer in the cave.


    He was pretty certain he was fighting, or losing a fight, in a cavern. What he was looking at was an open field with weapons and bodies strewn about.


    It looked like a much bigger battlefield than the one he left.


    He got up on his feet and looked around. The bodies of people looked unmoving, dreadful but peaceful in a way. He then just noticed that the sky was red. Even though it wasn¡¯t supposed to be that colour, he still cheered at this place having a sky.


    He saw something shaped like a large chair, or a throne possibly, a bit farther away, and decided to go towards it. He wasn¡¯t sure why, but he felt he needed to go there.


    As he walked, he could see that there were two people in front of him, a man sitting on the throne and a woman leaning on one of its sides.


    He chuckled when he saw the woman. He couldn¡¯t see her face properly yet but did see that she wore a revealing white dress that fluttered in the wind George couldn¡¯t actually feel.


    He still walked forward, the people in front of him coming into more of a focus.


    The woman¡¯s face was¡­ perfect, in his mind. There didn¡¯t seem to be a flaw. It wasn¡¯t particularly beautiful as it was flawless and unnervingly symmetrical, but that didn¡¯t lower her attractiveness.


    The man that was sitting on the throne was the epitome of what people imagined a Spartan would look like. Almost stark naked with perfect muscles and skin that seemed to shimmer from sweat and/or oil, with a helmet that covered his face well enough so George couldn¡¯t see any features except for the eyes that glowed red.


    The only piece of apparel he wore on his body was a skirt that went down halfway his large thighs.


    George knew Gaz¡¯Ruk was a warrior, but this was A warrior.


    The two people didn¡¯t seem to make any movements or speak, just watched him as he slowly walked towards the throne. George stopped at an arbitrary distance, one that seemed just close enough but not too close for comfort. His comfort, that is.


    The woman was the one that spoke first.


    ¡°Welcome, George. It is nice to finally meet you,¡± she said in a gentle, loving voice while smiling at him innocently.


    She then turned towards the warrior. ¡°I told you he was different. Do you believe me now?¡±


    The man didn¡¯t answer in any way, only moving his head slightly, and George felt uncomfortable, like he was being inspected.


    ¡°Hmpf,¡± the sound that came out of the helmet was more than audible, in fact, it seemed to resonate throughout the entire field. ¡°He¡¯s weak.¡±


    He stood up and slowly walked towards George, the red glowing eyes aimed directly at his face. George had felt small before, but this was on a completely different scale.


    The man circled slowly around George as George tried not to focus on anything in particular and tried to stand as tall as possible. He was still shorter than the man, but not by much, but there was a definite difference considering the man looked like straight out of an advertisement for underwear.


    He pushed George slightly on the shoulder and George almost lost his balance, staggering back to his feet.


    The man turned towards the woman, and just repeated what he said before. ¡°Weak¡±.


    The woman shrugged and laughed it off. ¡°Hey, he was the one that decided to bind himself to great Keroteon, God of War, Victory, and Bloodbaths.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s just War, Semira, and you know that. The mortals have just lost their way in what that¡¯s supposed to mean. And I don¡¯t lose.¡± He sounded like he gritted the last part out of his teeth.


    George tried to keep his focus, but this was both horrifying and funny. He had not forgotten what was going on just a few minutes before when he was in a cave, but now he was apparently meeting Gods.


    He wondered how he managed to do that and if the book had decided to actually work.


    He glanced at the man. If this was the God of War, that must mean that whatever the book picked up on when it said the Domain seemed to be chosen, this was it. This man was a personification of War, through and through.


    The woman came up to George, while the man went back towards the throne.


    ¡°You¡¯d have to forgive Keroteon, he was never big on manners or introduction,¡± she spoke softly, and George couldn¡¯t help but be calm.


    ¡°I am Semira, and some mortals like to call me the Goddess of Life. Now, I know your name, George, and I can tell that you come from far away, but I cannot see anything else about you. You are¡­ too mysterious for a mortal.¡±


    She turned towards the War God. ¡°I think you will like him, really. He seems to like you.¡±


    George wondered if she had read his mind and tried his best to contain any thoughts he had at the moment.


    ¡°Now then, you must be wondering why you are here,¡± she said and pointed at the field around them. ¡°When you first got in that Dungeon, I had sent you one of the arcane books.¡±


    George was surprised. Why was he that important that she would help him personally? He didn¡¯t actually voice this concern, as the book had already prolonged his life so far, so all he had to be was be thankful for it.


    ¡°T-thank you,¡± he stammered, unsure of what to say in front of two Deities.


    ¡°But, since you do not seem bound to any God or Goddess, I have decided to leave that to be your own choice.¡±


    What the Goddess was talking made some sense in a weird way, but was long from giving a proper explanation into what exactly was going on.


    Suddenly the man went back towards him again and got right in front of his face. That close, George could spot some of the rough skin that the helmet didn¡¯t cover, and he could distinctly see the glowing eyes.


    The God stared directly at him for a while, then simply asked him, ¡°what is a war to you, boy?¡±


    George gulped. Was this a part of a test? He glanced towards the woman, who sighed and looked away, and wished he knew what she was thinking as if that would help his situation.


    The God still stared at him intensely, and George wasn¡¯t that used to men staring him down.


    He thought long about the simple question he was asked. George thought that sometimes a long deep philosophy would be good for him, and this seemed like the time to test it out.


    He cleared his throat and started in a meek, almost incomprehensible voice.


    ¡°Life, sir?¡± His answer came out more like a question, so he gulped and tried again.


    ¡°L-life is a war, sir. It¡¯s always you against the world, someone else, people that hate you.¡±


    The man didn¡¯t stop staring at him, which in George¡¯s mind meant he should continue with whatever line of thought he started.


    ¡°Life is a war, because you keep fighting throughout the entirety of it, and then you die. But how you die is whether you won or lost.¡±


    He didn¡¯t know how to continue and just tried staring back at the God. He didn¡¯t even notice until then that his sight was somehow off. It all slanted to the left a bit, and he couldn¡¯t discern how close the God¡¯s face actually was to his own.


    He tried to appear as menacing and stoic as possible until the God moved away and slapped George on his shoulder.


    The God turned towards the woman. ¡°He¡¯ll do,¡± he said, then went back to the throne.


    At that moment, George was engulfed in red light, and he looked towards the man on the throne. He opened his mouth to ask what was happening to him but didn¡¯t have time to do so before the man answered.


    ¡°From now on, you¡¯re bound to me, Keroteon, God of War. You¡¯ll do as I tell you to do when I tell you to do so and you¡¯ll spread my word throughout the world of the mortals like yourself. Do so and you¡¯ll be rewarded. Break this bond and you¡¯ll be punished.


    ¡°It seems that you¡¯re still too weak to actually be a fighter, as your battle has shown, but that will change. Now, you can go back. And you¡¯re welcome.¡±


    Before George could ask anything else, he was surrounded by red.


    A moment later, he was staring at a wall of a cavern, his head hurt like in a bad hangover.


    He looked around and was immediately greeted by Gaz¡¯Ruk.


    ¡°We won, Grrrg. Thank you.¡±


    He looked at his surroundings, and the battle seemed over. There were a few lizardmen wincing in pain around him that were still alive, but everyone else seemed that. It was eerily reminiscent of the field he was just in.


    There was no shortage of questions in his mind, but before that could happen, he was greeted by his book again, which seemed to just fly towards him on its own.


    It was far more elaborate than before, with bright red coloured covers that now had metallic edges. The front of it depicted an axe and a mace behind a shield with a familiar helmet in the middle.


    The book opened on the first page, and could only spare attention to focus on the opening sentence.


    To the glory of Keroteon, may he lead to victory.


    He looked up into the ceiling of the cavern and ushered a silent ''thanks'' to the air. His chest tingled in response, and George pushed his shirt away to see a tattoo in the liking of the book cover on the right of his chest.


    He was still certain that the tattoo on his face didn''t move, but couldn''t see it without a mirror or reflecting surface.


    He served two different people now, a Deity, and whatever the Guardian was.


    His life was getting complicated.

 Chapter 13: Focus

    George barely managed to stay awake as he trudged from one wounded lizardman to the other, checking on the severity of their wounds, based on what little basic knowledge he had about wounds and anatomy.


    Gaz¡¯Ruk asked a question or two, mainly regarding what George supposedly did while he was away on his Deity interview. He wasn¡¯t sure about that himself but had to hazard a guess that was a favour from Keroteon himself.


    He was also unsure how many favours he would be given. Based on how short his stay in wherever was, he doubted there would be many more of them for the foreseeable future.


    He wanted to take a look at the new and improved book that he held close to his person at all times but was just too tired for new revelations.


    The few lizardmen that could walk, or shuffle awkwardly on two feet, dragged the rest of their living comrades towards the camp. He asked Gaz¡¯Ruk about what would happen to the rest, and he stayed silent. Perhaps there were no funeral rites in this place.


    The camp was sullen and almost empty. Kr¡¯thra ran up to the group as they came, looked over them once, sighed audibly, then helped everyone lie down.


    George considered his choices, opted to leave everything for tomorrow, then lied down on a piece of leather.


    He wasn¡¯t sure why or how he woke up, but he was certain he didn¡¯t dream anything, which was highly unusual. Even his previous night he could swear he dreamt something, but this sleep was barren.


    He looked around and the rest of the people lay about, mostly woken up and trying not to move because of their injuries.


    He got up to look at the camp as a whole. If there were about thirty of them yesterday, today there were dozen people at best, and most of them were injured.


    Kr¡¯thra and Gaz¡¯Ruk were off to the side, talking to one another. Considering they were the ones he had the most contact with so far, George decided to join them.


    As soon as he stepped near the pair, they both turned towards him and the conversation halted.


    ¡°So,¡± George started meekly, ¡°what now?¡± He was genuinely lost. He had no real way of imagining what these people felt. He wasn¡¯t that knowledgeable about them or incredibly close to them. And he knew that there were many losses the day before, but he didn¡¯t know how to approach the subject.


    The lizardmen looked battle ready and somewhat hardened and untouched by this entire thing, but George was certain that they were mourning, somehow.


    ¡°What did you do, Grrrg?¡± Gaz¡¯Ruk asked, again, and George felt he couldn¡¯t evade the question anymore.


    ¡°I met the person that gave me the book. And the person that helped us yesterday.¡± George didn¡¯t know if he should reveal that they were Gods or not. After all, Grolari had their own Goddess, but he was uncertain if the reveal that he was in the service of another one would alienate him from these people.


    ¡°I think I can be stronger now,¡± George continued, then looked over the camp, then back to Kr¡¯thra. ¡°Maybe we can avoid this from now on,¡± he said while gesturing towards the emptiness of the camp.


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if you trust me yet, or if you ever will. I know that the story about the Guardian and all that stands true, but I know that you have no real reason to trust me. So, I¡¯ll just try my best to do my best.¡±


    Kr¡¯thra looked at him oddly, then stared into what George mused would be his soul considering her extreme focus, then just smiled. ¡°You¡¯re really different from other Humans, George.¡±


    He smiled. ¡°I¡¯ve been told that before.¡±


    George took a moment to think about all what had happened to him. He was suddenly in a different place, meeting creatures that should be impossible, doing magic which should be non-existent, and meeting Deities he has long before stopped believing in. Yet here it was all the truth and reality. He could see the lizardmen, he saw magic, he met the Gods.


    He maybe could touch them even.


    He dispersed some thoughts from his head and focused on the present. There was still something he hasn¡¯t looked at.


    George paced back to his sleeping area and picked up the book.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    The book no longer looked ragged. The covers were clean, the edges metallic ¡ªand sharp, as he cut himself on one quickly¡ª and the emblem on the front of it, the same one he had on his chest, he could swear glowed slightly as he touched it.


    He was greeted by the first page, now completely different from the sight he was used to.


    To the glory of Keroteon, may he lead to victory.


    Greetings mortal. You are now in perpetual service to the God of War. As a cleric, it is your duty to spread the belief and faith in your Deity throughout the mortal realm. Accomplishing this would lead to the strengthening of the Deity¡¯s grip on the mortal realm and your personal growth. If you act against the wishes and beliefs of your chosen Deity, the repercussions will be severe.


    Cleric - Divinity - Domain: War


    Deity information: Keroteon - God of War, Victory and Bloodbaths.


    This is an arcane book. It is a gift from the Deities to mortals they consider worthy.


    There was still some writing beneath, but it was too smudged to read properly. George considered if that meant he¡¯d need to get to know more before ¡®unlocking¡¯ the rest of it. The book apparently decided to come with a separate DLC, he sighed.


    He wasn¡¯t sure what this all meant to him. He met his Deity for a grand total of moments, and most of those he was stared at and stared back. In fact, he distinctly remembered that he ¡®will do¡¯. He wasn¡¯t sure whether he was supposed to be happy or angry at that. Sure, he was grateful, but still, a little decency wouldn¡¯t really have hurt there.


    He flipped to the first page.


    Quick Heal


    Divinity Spell, War Domain


    Activated by focusing on a wound that the caster wishes to close.


    Must maintain sight of the target.


    Effectiveness raised by the strength of the connection to the Deity.


    War Domain:


    Heal replaced with Quick Heal.


    The user no longer has to touch the wound to channel the spell to it.


    The user can focus the spell on a creature to close the most severe wound.


    What the brief description didn¡¯t cover was that there was no longer an incantation to perform the spell, which seemed like something radical and noteworthy, but George wasn¡¯t the one writing the book in the first place. He wondered who was. Keroteon didn¡¯t look the bookworm type. Then again, maybe being a Deity was actually boring enough and writing these books was a way to pass the time.


    But these descriptions did look oddly like a game, too specific at times, or too¡­ neat, he chirped. They even changed, the style of the ¡®brief description¡¯, as he called it, reduced to short sentences, while the rest remained flowery. He could probably spend the entire day thinking about that particular subject but decided to move on.


    He flipped through the second page and read through the description of the Holy Light.


    Holy Light


    Evocation/Divinity Spell, No Domain


    Activated by focusing on the object or creature.


    Wards against weak undead for the duration.


    War Domain: No further benefits.


    The descriptions just¡­ shrunk, even. George was a bit disappointed that the spell didn¡¯t seem to get better because he got a Deity.


    The paragraphs down below did have a singular change, though:


    Required component: firefly, glowing gem, moss, or orb, or a piece of flame. The component can be replaced with a focus - see ¡®focus¡¯ in the glossary for more information.


    George was confused. Why would whatever this book was use a separate glossary, and what was a weapon focus?


    Somehow, his question seems to have been heard by whomever out there and the book flipped to the near end.


    A golden glow surrounded the red letters of the capitalized word GLOSSARY on the top of the page.


    The page started out blank, but quickly ink appeared from nowhere and sentences started to form.


    Focus


    As a Priest or a Cleric of the Divine, you may carry a focus. This is usually an object or a symbol that describes or is associated with your Deity.


    Deity: Keroteon


    Focuses available - one-handed weapon, blessed by Keroteon. Weapons include short sword, mace, spear, javelin.


    Focuses available - any small to medium shield, blessed by Keroteon.


    Focuses available - a preserved trophy of a notable slain enemy, blessed by Keroteon.


    George didn¡¯t understand how to get a weapon to be blessed by a Deity. Nothing more appeared in the glossary, and no further attempts to provide vague questions to the air yielded any change to the page.


    Still, this wasn¡¯t a bad thing. He didn¡¯t need to keep a check on having moss or flames available when he wanted to cast a spell. He just needed one of the specific objects at hand, blessed by a God who didn¡¯t really seem to like George much.


    ¡°Can I get some help over here?¡± He asked the air around him, not really considering what would be the proper way to commune with a Deity. After all, he didn¡¯t really get a proper introduction to all this.


    Nothing happened, as he expected, and George sighed, then went back to the book, looking over the remained of the Holy Light description and trying to jog his memory if anything else changed.


    Maybe he should stick to gathering moss for now.

 Chapter 14: Concentration

    The book was still clearly not giving its secrets away freely. But at least there was so much more he could learn from it. The glossary of focuses would be helpful, sure, but surely it wasn¡¯t the only new thing that was brought with the rest of the changes.


    Going back towards the page that described Holy Light and trying to read onwards made George a bit dizzy. He was certain letters are harder to focus on, and there was a definite difference with the way his arm moved compared to what he could see.


    He ran a palm across his face, the left side producing a small tinge of heat as he glossed over the tattoo, while the right side harboured a heavy gash across where his eye was. Or had been.


    He ran his fingers over his eyelid and he could feel the softness of the skin and flesh compared to the more stringy feedback of an eyeball. He didn¡¯t want to look for a mirror, but this was confirmation enough that his right eye was completely and utterly gone, replaced in part by what felt like soft flesh and a large scar that ran from his forehead across his entire cheek. There was a groove in the bone where his brow was. It was all a telltale sign of his pitiful combat performance.


    He shook his head, trying to focus his eyes, or eye, as he should probably get used to using the singular, on the book ahead of him. It certainly could¡¯ve gone worse, and this book had helped saved what he had left of his miserable face.


    His eyesight still shaky and void of any real focus, he flipped onto the next page. Before everything, this was blank, but now a cacophony of red letters awaited him with what would supposedly be a first real prize for being chosen, or choosing a Deity.


    Battle Rage


    Enchantment/Divinity Spell, War Domain


    Give the target Barbarian¡¯s Rage. Increases damage resistance, viciousness, and reduces reason.


    Initiated by eye contact with the target, or targets, and willing the Deity¡¯s will to fight.


    Lasts until manually cancelled.


    War Domain: Doesn¡¯t require concentration. Can affect multiple targets at once.


    Well, that was indeed an interesting one. He didn¡¯t actually need to fight himself all that much, which was a boon considering his newfound lack of proper vision.


    Below the incredibly concise and not nearly explanatory text was a long-winded description on how exactly Barbarians approached combat and the revel that a fight against one was. Shrugging off wounds and arrows like flies was mentioned in a curt passage.


    Where his previous skills were more utilitarian and supportive, this one certainly got the point across that he was meant to look for trouble, whether he liked it or not.


    The description also clearly mentions that the afflicted would receive a red glow either in or around their eyes, as George couldn¡¯t exactly translate the floweriness of the passages that he went through, and his impending headache from trying to focus so much on them certainly wasn¡¯t helping.


    While he slowly read through the page, he almost failed to notice Kr¡¯thra sitting down next to him, only realising she did so once he felt leathery scales next to his arm.


    He glanced up to see her at eye level with him, trying to read the book.


    ¡°Can you read it?¡± he asked slowly, unsure how exactly the spell she regularly performed on him in order to communicate actually worked on writing. He certainly couldn¡¯t read other books, but they didn¡¯t belong to the Grolari in the first place. He had yet to see them actually write something.


    She shrugged and shook her head while mouthing what would be a negative. Well, there went reading comprehension towards the unrevealed script.


    She stopped trying to interfere with his attempts to read the book, which George found odd. In fact, the entire scene, or the entire cave felt sombre in a way. Of course, with everything that happened so recently, it was understandable.


    ¡°It says a lot of things about Barbarians and battles and rage and whatnot-¡± he started without any prompt from her, guessing that she was as interested in the contents as he was.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ¡°I suppose that they gave me this to fight, and there¡¯s no other way around it,¡± he sighed, not bothering to look away from the book and into her face. There seemed no need for that at the moment.


    ¡°You know, where I¡¯m from, they speak of this only in tales and stories, and games,¡± he chuckled, imagining what kind of a game would have systems this shitty.


    ¡°Games?¡± she asked, almost incredulous.


    ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s very different back there,¡± he gestured at the small group of people around them, all of them loitering about the cave aimlessly in respite. ¡°Most of us don¡¯t need to fight or fear for our lives on a daily basis.


    ¡°There¡¯s also nothing like this,¡± he pointed at the book. ¡°In no way could I do anything like this-¡± he pointed towards the ceiling and concentrated hard on lighting the cave up, even by little, and a bundle of stalactites were lit in a bright yellow glare.


    The people in the cave turned to watch at the ceiling, then at George, with a slightly dazed look on their eyes.


    He forgot that he didn¡¯t know how to turn it off, so resigned himself to just waiting it out, even if it brought him ire from the other occupants in here. They could use some light.


    Kr¡¯thra mouthed something he didn¡¯t hear and George continued, now looking away from the book.


    ¡°So, what do we do now?¡± he asked her, still not completely aware of his position in all of this. He gave them some of their secrets, and hopefully, in return, he would receive a few back. It would definitely not be of equal value on someone¡¯s end, but he was sure there was no helping that particular situation.


    Still, he was alive, mostly well, without an eye, in a cave. There wasn¡¯t much more that could go wrong.


    She stood up, seemingly embroiled in one thought or another, while George was still sitting down. Whatever the Grolari¡¯s decisions were, he would be ready.


    For now, though, it was back to the book.


    It was contradictory. Everything that happened thus far was utterly terrifying. Things wanted to kill him, repeatedly, and he had to fight. He didn¡¯t even know how to fight properly and was thrust against creatures and beings he clearly didn¡¯t understand. The entire situation was slanted against him.


    Yet there was that feeling of cheerfulness and discovery when he read onwards into the book. Magic was real and it was at his fingertips and the book was the way towards learning more of it. His excitement couldn¡¯t be contained by a grim reminder that he could easily die. He already beat some odds, even if it required literal divine intervention to do so. He would just need to be better next time.


    He flipped onto the next page


    Divine Shield


    Abjuration/Divinity Spell, No Domain


    Summons a defensive shield around the caster or creature, shielding them from harm.


    Alternatively, reinforces the defences of the caster.


    Requires concentration.


    War Domain: Affects up to two creatures, including the caster.


    Well, this was late. Where was this spell when he needed it? Maybe he didn¡¯t need to lose an eye then.


    And what was this mention of concentration? To the glossary it was, then.


    Concentration


    Some spells require concentration. The caster must focus on keeping the spells active for the duration. Trying to cast another spell breaks concentration. Refer to the spells¡¯ descriptions for ways to maintain concentration.


    So, there was essentially a limit. More powerful or effective spells couldn¡¯t be used together, or had greater requirements.


    The Shield required him to stay focused on the appearance of the actual defenses or on the will to defend from harm. What that meant was beyond George¡¯s current mental faculties, but he was certain it would come to light in no time once he actually had to use the skill.


    Still, this gave him a defense. His spell selection, or rather, the spell ensemble he was given, was starting to look pretty balanced. If he were playing a game.


    George sighed. It would explain so much, being in a game, and yet there was no way that this was actually one. It all felt too real already. Even people dying.


    It was a strange thought. He could easily process people dying and creatures attacking him. Back home, a spider made his skin crawl, yet here he bashed several¡¯s faces in with a book and then skewered a few more like it was no big deal.


    Was all of it starting to get to him somehow? Did he lose something in that moment between him being in his room and the next where he was on the cave floor?


    Did he miss home?


    He wasn¡¯t sure. Part of him still told him this was alright and that it will pass, maybe he needed to cling onto it more. Denial was a powerful tool.


    He let his mind wander for too long thinking about things that didn¡¯t really matter at the moment. The book in front of him lured him with more to learn.


    He opened the next page, and glanced over the contents.


    George gasped, like someone reading a great plot twist in a detective novel. Did this world have detective novels, was the thought that went or would go through his mind once.


    For now, he was still not believing the things he read.


    ¡°No, that¡¯s not¡­ How-¡± he gasped like a fish out of water, blinking with his one good eye. ¡°Where do I find a mana crystal¡­ And why that specific size?¡±


    He slowly traced over the page and flipped to the next page. The information would be stored for later and there was no way he would ever get to use it.


    In a game, this would¡¯ve been a game changer. In here, it might actually be heresy.

 Chapter 15: Surfacing

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, Gaz¡¯Ruk, he¡¯s not going down there,¡± Kr¡¯thra argued with the brute. Gaz¡¯Ruk was a useful and smart brute, but was still a brute nonetheless. He might be in charge of the camp and defences, but she was the one that could give orders about George.


    George was a far too peculiar being to take either outside or down into the city. She could feel he was still too volatile to trust completely. So what if he had somehow helped them win against the enemy twice. His previous outburst going alone to just murder Wolf Spiders was telling that there was yet far too much she didn¡¯t know about him.


    He spoke of their home like it was some kind of a miracle or a puzzle. Who does that? No, he needed to stay here.


    ¡°We lack supplies, ¡®thra. We¡¯re also getting short on capable warriors,¡± Gaz¡¯Ruk grunted between her thoughts. That much was certainly true, but it was not enough.


    ¡°So what do you suppose we do, just let him do what he pleases?¡± she responded, trying to reason with someone that could rarely be reasoned with.


    ¡°Have you noticed that the mark has not faded completely, ¡®thra. I¡¯m sure you have, you were always good at that thing.¡±


    Kr¡¯thra noticed that first hand. She wondered what was going on. Certainly, the Guardian would sometimes do weird things, but this was reserved or attacks. They were certain they repelled them.


    ¡°Go to the surface, we need to figure out what¡¯s going on. And be safe. The Guardian will protect us inside, but out there, we¡¯re always hunted,¡± she responded slowly.


    Of course, Kr¡¯thra hadn¡¯t seen the outside except for once. She was always told it was far too dangerous, that the Guardian would protect them. It wasn¡¯t without heavy losses each time. She was already starting to get worried.


    The appearance of George could be an omen. He spoke of Deities and tried to learn more about them, what if Korotha has somehow guided him towards them? The Elders spoke she would work in mysterious ways.


    ¡°Fine, take him to the surface. At least that will give me time to think.¡±


    The day has come when Gaz¡¯Ruk actually beat her in an argument. Who knows where this world was going.


    -----------------------------


    George was still reading through the page. There was surely a reason he was given this. Was he really meant to somehow help these people?


    It was just too much at once. To think that he had so much at his fingertips, just needing whatever a mana crystal was, was unreal.


    What would they do if they found out about this? Would he be revered, or would they turn against him? He still didn¡¯t know how the world worked. Sure, the Grolari seemed to slowly trust him, but more as another combatant than anything else, and certainly only because he had this tattoo across half his face.


    This would be shelved for later. He¡¯d have to try and get the crystal somehow if, first, he learned what it was and where to find it.


    He had a headache, but he couldn¡¯t pinpoint why. There was something odd about it; it seemed to be mostly on the left side. There was something about this blasted tattoo again, he was almost certain about that, but what exactly?


    Someone stepped in front of him, but this time it wasn¡¯t Kr¡¯thra. Gaz¡¯Ruk¡¯s voice beamed from just above his head.


    ¡°There¡¯s something wrong Grrrg. I¡¯m sure you can feel it, too,¡± he pointed towards George¡¯s face. Well, it was not a mystery any longer.


    ¡°We go up, to check,¡± he grunted and walked away. The people around him were already shuffling about, the ones that were capable of waking.


    George still felt tired, even though it couldn¡¯t have been that long since he woke up and started this whole thing of learning about the book.


    Speaking of which, the rest of the book would have to wait, it seems. He hauled himself up, a tingle of a headache running through his head. Kr¡¯thra did say he would get used to it eventually.


    He had yet to properly learn the names of everyone in the camp, especially since they seemed to come and go, in more than one way.


    The group shortly assembled itself, lead by Gaz¡¯Ruk and composed of George and eight more lizardmen. He actually looked around, and Kr¡¯thra seemed to be the only woman or rather female Grolari in the camp. He wondered how the hierarchy and the leadership system worked in their case.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The group picked up a small number of weapons and some supplies and plotted a course for the surface, which apparently entailed going from chamber to chamber and corridor to corridor.


    The cave environment shifted between dark and damp to a more lively one as they went upwards towards the apparent surface. Veins of light lined the walls, providing a lot more natural lighting than when he had arrived.


    The walls also shifted in colours between places, splotches of yellow and red overtaking the usual nondescript grey. George considered that it could¡¯ve been some precious metals or minerals embedded within the cave walls themselves. Perhaps this whole place could be used as a mine.


    But his geology was definitely not a strong suit of his knowledge, so he shrugged and followed the group as they went about.


    The caverns were more or less similar to what he had already encountered, usually populated by docile slimes, several different varieties of mushrooms, and even an odd flower or grass here and there, something that should normally be impossible to grow underground.


    The lizardmen talked among themselves mostly, occasionally sparing a glance in George¡¯s direction before shifting away again. He felt both isolated, accepted, and tolerated. They didn¡¯t outright ignore him or shoo him away like an animal, but they didn¡¯t exactly seem welcoming.


    Then again, he thought about all the humans that went into the cave to kill the Grolari. It was probably not easy for anyone to have a change of mind that rapidly. It was purely a miracle he wasn¡¯t cut down the first time he saw them.


    He went to the front of the group and tried to ask Gaz¡¯Ruk some questions.


    ¡°So, what are we looking for exactly?¡± he tried to phrase his questions to be both as non-committal and direct as possible. He didn¡¯t even know the bare bones of how the world around him worked and was taking it in one large gulp at a time. Lizard people certainly didn¡¯t exist back home, he was still getting used to their existence.


    But the prospect of what the world in front of him held was definitely exciting. He came into possession of magic and was apparently bound to acquire more. Even if he ignored the fact that there was a Guardian, whatever exactly that was, and a literal God forcing him into their respective service.


    ¡°Intruders, Grrrg,¡± Gaz¡¯Ruk¡¯s voice was definitely more grunting than talking, ¡°we¡¯ll look for their camp. They must be still out there, and the Guardian can sense it.¡±


    George wondered how that worked. The Guardian seemed to possess some extraordinary abilities so far, he was marvelled into actually learning of how to go about it.


    This all really did seem like a really advanced game at certain points. But at others, it differed so much. He definitely needed to get out of that mentality of treating this reality like it wasn¡¯t one. Even if that maybe wasn¡¯t true. He noticed his thoughts started erring towards the side of philosophy again and chided himself mentally for going into those musings.


    ¡°What do we do when we find these¡­ intruders?¡± George asked tentatively. More often than not, the people they met, or rather fought, were like George. They definitely seemed to speak an entirely different language, and who knew how their culture was built, but there was still something off about grouping up with lizard people to stalk humans.


    ¡°What we always do with intruders,¡± Gaz¡¯Ruk rumbled in a short response and left the conversation at that. George wondered if him not talking too much was a blessing or a curse. He himself wasn¡¯t a type to be very social, and certainly appreciated the silent times, but it still seemed like he should be finding ways to have lizard people open up to him conversationally.


    The corridor changed abruptly to become partially lit by something other than night light coming from its walls and George actually saw sunshine for the first time he got in this place. It looked like it was either the dusk or the dawn, he couldn¡¯t really tell.


    The air got noticeably fresher and more breathable in a way as the group became more and more cautious of their environment.


    The lizardmen more or less snuck out of the cave corridor and George finally exited the darkness for the first time.


    It was disappointing. George thought he would be privy to splendour of nature, but all he got was some shrubbery and vast reaching plains.


    In the distance, there looked to be billows of smoke coming from the ground, and he could spot what looked like the makings of a camp.


    Why they decided to camp so far out was beyond him, but the lizard people around him seemed to have a goal of their own, as they slowly went to circle around the temporary settlement that lit up a campfire, going through the sparse foliage that surrounded whatever they just exited.


    He looked behind him and upwards, and the cave entrance he just exited from turned out to be digging into a steep mountain or a hill. Or maybe it was just a large mound of rocks. Then again, that was what a mountain or a hill were.


    He followed the group as they snuck about, slowly making their way towards the camp. Now that they were a bit closer, George could finally take in the actual development that occurred.


    The camp seemed less like the one you¡¯d find for an overnight stay and more for a semi-permanent residence reminiscent of towns you¡¯d see in movies about the Wild West back home.


    Planks were set up and house frames slowly built as a considerable number of people scurried about their various apparent tasks. The evening sun, which he confirmed to be setting down a few minutes ago, gave less and less light and more focus was on for the campfires and what looked to be crystals like the ones on the ceiling of the corridors.


    But most importantly, he saw the variety of people that didn¡¯t really look human. It really did seem like a more stereotypical fantasy world consisting of Elves and Dwarves.


    For a part of him, this was wonderful.


    For the other part, that realised that George would probably have to fight them for the foreseeable future, this was horrifying.