Nine minutes and fifteen seconds later, the Collector sensed the presence of the goblin swarm directly outside the dungeon cavern. They were quick, making their way without hesitation through the cavern and into the pit with a mass of charging, hurried steps.

The Collector heard a resounding war cry echo through the cavern depths, growing ever louder as the goblin swarm came to reach the edge of the pit.

"Fight! Fight for the king!" came the shout from the carrier unit, with rousing cries echoing the sentiment for battle.

The Collector heard as the carrier unit crossed the dive into the pit with a single large leap, landing heavily on the stone floor with four arms tensed up and ready to grapple or strike anything that remotely posed a threat to the Collector.

All the other goblin champions scrambled behind the carrier unit elite, hopping down the divide and landing on the stone heavily with weapons in hand or, if they had no weapons, their bare fangs and fists ready for the fight.

In response, the Collector turned around and showed the carrier unit and the swarm the grizzled stormbear, or rather, what was left of it. It held the stormbear's intact head in one of its hands while its bare spine and thinly flesh covered ribcage fluttered in the air.

"There is no cause for elevated concern. The battle has been fought and won," declared the Collector.

The carrier unit elite knelt down, and so did the rest of the champion swarm. They fell low to the cracked stone floor before the Collector's flaming form, their white skinned bodies giving homage and devoted respect to the living flame of strength and authority before them.

"As expected of our king," said the carrier unit elite with a deep nod. "O, you who are mighty and great and bright."

The Collector clicked its mandibles in satisfaction that these specimens were so devotedly loyal despite still possessing more individuality than it had been initially comfortable granting.

The only remaining test now was to put these specimens' trough the harsh trial of legitimate combat and see whether in the face of a true threat, their loyalty would remain unyielding.

Initially, the Collector had thought to allow the swarm to do battle with the grizzled stormbear, but it would seem that such an option would be risky. It had devoured the ursine many times over now, enough to reach the biomass threshold to reach the next level of metamorphosis, but attempting to continue spurring the dungeon to regenerate the stormbear specimen would likely lead to the dungeon's complete structural degradation.

Already, the Collector could bear witness to the fact that the dungeon's regenerative properties were distinctly finite.

The blue, glowing crystals dotting the pit were growing dimmer now, many of them lined with cracks, and the stone floor was starting to break apart with chunks of ice from the ceiling falling.

With two more regenerative cycles, the Collector estimated, the dungeon would collapse, and it did not yet desire for such an outcome.

"Your mastery over your native tongue has improved significantly," noted the Collector as it spoke to the carrier unit.

"With this new form that you give me," said the elite, putting the index finger on one of its hands to its temple. "My knowledge grows. I learn more. The elder teaches me our tongue, and I learn."

"The accelerated rate at which you grasp new information will prove highly useful in more efficiently commanding your swarm. See to it that you continue to nourish your mind," said the Collector.

"Yes, my king," said the elite.

"Choose a unit among you that possesses potent combat capacity," said the Collector to the carrier unit.

The goblin elite nodded, then stood up. His gleaming red eyes scanned over the swarm of kneeling evolved goblin champions in deep consideration.

"Bolg," said the goblin elite.

One of the evolved champions at the front of the rows of kneeling goblins stood up. In his hands, he wielded a large club of Everfrost, indicating physical strength worthy enough of allocating the rare Everfrost resource to his martial merit.

"Yes!" said Bolg with unbridled enthusiasm. His tusks jutted from his mouth as he smiled broadly at the Collector.

"Bolg is strong," said the goblin elite. "Strongest besides me."

"The density of musculature and magical energy does seem to support your judgement," said the Collector. "Approach."

"Got it!" Bolg contained his excitement and walked towards the Collector with almost skipping steps. "What I do?" he said when he got close enough in front of the Collector to squint his eyes at the Collector's light and heat emanating from its swirling flames.

"Show the king respect," said the elite.

"O-oh, sorry, king," said Bolg and bowed his head.

"Apologies are a waste of mental processing power. They are mere elocutions emitted in an attempt to soothe the mind of a mistake that has already occurred.

There will be no more apologies among this swarm," said the Collector, remembering how in the Darkwoods, it had given a similar explanation of its thoughts to the female daemon specimen. "Focus instead on actions. Do not state apology, show betterment."

The goblin swarm all nodded, taking the Collector's words deep into their hearts like it was the lecturing of some great philosopher or messiah come to tell a parable to save their souls.

The Collector thrust forth what remained of the grizzled stormbear to goblin champion known as 'Bolg'.

"Strike this specimen's heart," said the Collector, intending on transferring ownership of this dungeon to this evolved champion.

"Got it," said Bolg as he took in a breath, arcing the club back before exhaling and slamming the heavy end of the Everfrost weapon right into the stormbear's exposed ribs, crashing through them and splattering the heart within.

The Collector with this command attempted to observe whether transferal of the dungeon's ownership would occur and whether this was based upon solely whoever landed the killing blow. It felt finally as the stormbear's life faded away, entering into permanent death.

The Collector put a hand under the stormbear's torso to absorb the drizzle of heart chunks and blood dripping from its open ribs to see whether its core material possessed any Blessings attached to it, but there were none.

After setting down the stormbear's corpse, the Collector aimed its glowing yellow skeletal sockets at Bolg, analyzing the specimen for any notable changes. The dungeons energies not only supplied regenerative powers, but also some measure of strengthening that spurred various magical and biological growths.

Potentially, if this 'Bolg' were to receive these energies, then it would gain the potential to ascend further into another champion.

However, no such changes occurred.

"Tell me, do you sense any changes within your form? Do you feel this space funneling its magical energy within you?" said the Collector.

Bolg looked down at his body with a raised brow. "N-no?"

"Then it is not so," came the elder's voice. The kneeling goblins parted as the elder hobbled forwards on his walking stick, wrapped up in his cloak and skins. "O king, I tell you now what happens. I did say before that these dungeons are taken by beasts, and beasts that slay them gain dominion over them.

Yet, it is not the killing blow alone that determines this."

The elder shook his head as he made his way up beside Bolg and bowed his head to the Collector. "No, it is far more sacred, more primal. It is the submission of the soul."

"Explain further," said the Collector.

"The boss of this dungeon may have had his heart crushed by Bolg, but his soul did not submit to Bolg, it submitted to you, O king," said the elder. "Thus, you are the new boss."

Clamors and whispers began to spread among the goblin swarm.

"We get dungeon now?"

"No more moving around. We stay one spot now. Warm spot."

"We get own land. Our land!"

The Collector clicked the mandibles of its main skull as it began to feel the dungeon's flow of mana begin to circulate around it, currents of blue flowing from the mana crystals and swirling around the Collector's ashen form.

>>>

*Primal Density Gained (+5%)*

Primal Density: 20 > 25%

It recalled from the elder that specimen that became dungeon bosses became bound to them not only magically, but physically. However, it could not afford such geographical limitation for its mission required vast amounts of travel.

"I will not sustain continued ownership of this territory," said the Collector, and a disappointed silence arose among the goblins. It noted the presence of three frostboar corpses dragged along by the swarm, ready for consumption, and decided it would give them some time to recuperate their strength.

"Consume those frostboar specimen and regain your strength. The swarm's continued course of action will be determined soon."

The goblin swarm scrambled to sate their hunger with the Collector's command. However, the elite, Bolg, and the elder all stayed in front of the Collector, sensing its will.