Chapter 51: Silver Hoard

Chapter 51: Silver Hoard

The notification scrawling across my core was very expected and very welcome.

Your creature, a Burrowing Rat, is undergoing evolution!

Please select your desired path.

Ratking (Uncommon): Commander of the lesser rats, it uses its long and powerful tail to bind them to its will, forcing all those in the vicinity to serve it with reckless abandon whether their lives are kept or lost.

Arcane Ratkin (Rare): Harnessing various gems, this creature uses its growing skills to command mana as it pleases, choosing from its collection of jewels for which it wants to use at any given moment. Though it has no specializations, it can use any attuned mana-gem, given they are full.

Mage Ratkin (Rare): Unlike its arcane brethren, this creature chooses a specialization in only one branch of mana, and can now generate their own attuned mana to use as they see fit. As they study and train, their power can grow to be reminiscent of a true mage.

Huh. Honestly, it'd been so long since my little tycoon rats had had any need of burrowing or hiding that I'd truly forgotten that was what they were.

Nevertheless.

It was curious; similar to the kobold's evolution, where the second options were both ratkin with just different positions within that species. No... spectral rat, or groundbreaker mouse option, for reference. Only slight variations of ratkin. Did that mean she was approaching sapience?

In that case then, ratking was entirely out. Ignoring the intelligence, this particular rat had been the one to forsake her family and others of her race, ignoring them to run wild and collect jewels of her own. She didn't exactly seem the type to sit back and wait for others to finish her jobs for her. Not when she had her own powers to shoot for.

And besides, I couldn't just ignore her newly-formed addiction to magic.

That left the battle between arcane or mage.

Arcane seemed like it would have the most potential in the long run, granting her the ability to use any magic as long as she kept her dependance of using jewels in order to cast magic. Not a large disadvantage, but one that I could see being a problem moving forward; if she were to keep casting bigger and bigger spells, the gems would limit her.

Mage, on the other hand, removed that problem by making her generate her own mana; all creatures consumed mana and used it for either food, evolution, or their abilities, but generating mana meant that while they had to consume more to fuel that, they weren't constrained in their magic.

I knew that the horned serpent could replenish her own mana, and Seros as well; most others in my halls were still underevolved and couldn't yet reach that peak. As wonderful as an all-rounder arcane rat could utilize my endless array of mana-filled gemstones, I couldn't pass up the opportunity for specialization. She had already... consumed a jadestone, which was certainly a unique option I hadn't thought of and didn't know if it would work for others. She had chosen what power she wanted.

So I selected mage ratkin.

She curled up, light bleeding over her form, tucked in a den in my stone jungle; I made soft algae bloom beneath her and fresh water spill from above. Not a clue how large she would grow from this evolution, even though she was already enormous compared to a regular rat, but this would serve as a temporary home. Later, she would lay claim to this entire stone jungle and could find her own den.

But another evolution.

Her other brethren would join her soon, I thought; though they gathered mana slowly, only able to collect fractions of points every time they touched their gems, it was still infinitely faster than their previous methods of nibbling on mushrooms and praying they survived. A small population was already on the fourth floor and quickly nearing evolution, though none had tried the method of just eating a jewel. Maybe I'd suggest it.

I had just turned back to my fifth floor, ready to settle up some final touches, when one of my points of awareness pinged to life.New novel chapters are published on

As one evolution began, three more finished.

Back on the first floor, tucked away in little dens I'd had to fully close off just to make sure that the damn bears hadn't eaten them, pale light finally died down to a trickle as five bugs opened their new eyes.

I couldn't help but purr. Where once they'd been mere specks below my observation, just bugs scampering for scraps, now they were threats. The mantis rose to a new height of two feet tall, her once grey carapace now a deep emerald green, her claws wickedly sharp and long enough to grab at anything within eyesight. Still spindly and easily crushed, but there was a power in her movements. Her wings, still thin and poorly designed for actual flight, were now an iridescent white, scintillating and brilliant; a lesser flash from the luminous constrictors. Just a distraction so her claws could rather quickly remind her prey why that was a mistake.

The platemail bug lumbered to his nearly five foot long life, black eyes looking curiously at his surroundings; with the scales overlapping over his back and his dozens of feet below, he looked like a truly strange commodity in the halls. Scavenger, yes, but similar to the armourback sturgeon; if anything else managed to kill him, they'd get quite a tasty treat of mana.

And then the eyeblight butterfly. Still caterpillars, still rather small at only a foot long, but they roiled with potential; what had once been faint eye-like spots on their side were now detailed ovals inlaid with pockets of mana, similar to the electric eel's lightning-attuned spots, and their antennae, which had once been slightly fuzzy, waving things were now enormous leaf-shaped tendrils, stretching almost higher than the rest of their body, just bursting with psionic mana.

Still more lithe in the water, but that certainly didn't discount his agility on land. He padded over cautiously but without fail. His tail dragged on the stone behind him, the frills twitching; it was a touch too dry for his tastes but I could be persuaded to add water later. Maybe below?

He arrived on the second island and poked at it, nosing at rocks I hoped would soon hide greater threats and carefully centering himself to avoid letting the slope carry him off the edge. Going fast through this floor would hopefully prove impossible.

I was very pleased with his reaction to my floor. His thoughts were full of wonder.

Seros peered curiously over the edge of the island, flicking his tongue out; then he promptly walked over the edge.

My scream probably shattered a few eardrums upstairs.

But there he was, clinging to the side of the stone; his claws found the porous stone rather easy to latch onto, even with his weight, and he casually meandered his way around the side of the island before popping back up top. His thoughts were smug.

Laugh it up, I groused, but did examine my islands more closely. For anything capable of climbing, while the mushroom cap-shaped islands would prevent a bit of a problem for being able to get back on top, they wouldn't be impossible. Looked like I'd be growing some razorleaf lichen over the sides and putting plenty of dens and dangers down before for those foolish few who fell.

And that was why I had brought Seros.

-

Aloma wasn't coming back.

Lluc sat outside the Alómbra Mountains, staring quietly at the dark entrance leading further inside; it had been three days, and he'd seen neither hair nor hide of the member of the Dread Crew.

Neither her nor the brat he'd sent in to die.

The first day, maybe they'd just been spending their time exploring; the second day, maybe lost or the dungeon was larger than he'd thought; but the third day, they were dead. The dungeon had killed them.

He was Gold ranked. It was an accomplishment he clung to fiercely; it was easy for those Unranked fools to assume that it was a linear pathline, that becoming Bronze took the same level of growth that it did to reach Silver and so on. It couldn't have been less the case. Each jump up in the rankings took an astronomical amount more power than it did to reach the previous level. There was a reason why so few Electrums existed, and why Mythril heroes were more treasured than the kingdoms that paid their entire treasuries just to keep them on their side.

Being a Gold meant something.

For a dungeon to take down a Silver, that meant it was strong. Was it strong enough for him? Probably not. He was a High Gold, not as specific as the difference between the different ranks but showing that he wasn't some wet-behind-the-ears Gold, and very few dungeons had the power to contend with him. Especially not one that had barely existed for a few months.

But still the thought lingered in the back of his mind.

Most dungeons were born from the world, guided by the gods above and quickly discovered; sentientborn dungeons were killed quickly as they expanded too rapidly and too greedily. He didn't know of any ley line crossovers in this area and there certainly hadn't been any fallen stars; it was probably the dragon leading the dungeon. It was sentientborn.

That meant it was both dangerous and unknown.

So as much as he believed in his own strength, as much as he knew he was Gold and much more powerful than the many peons running around Calarata, he didn't want to risk it.

But he had been given a job, and his first attempt had already failed.

Varcís had only wanted him to investigate the dungeon, to see its level of intelligence and the lethality of its floors. Lluc could pretty safely say it was dangerous.

So either he could keep exploring, or he could go back to Varcís and say that not only had he fed the dungeon someone Silver ranked, but he also specifically had no further knowledge other than that it was dangerous and powerful.

He remembered blood splattered over worn leather gloves.

Lluc turned on his heel and strode back to Calarata. No. He'd take this damn dungeon down and present its bloody heart to the Dread Pirate himself.