I wake up to a smell of slightly burned pancakes and sunny-side up eggs.

- Darling, get up~

- ...who the hell are you?

Bonk.

- Oi, watch where you swing that ladle!

- Breakfast will be served shortly, come eat while it's hot.

So she says before trotting out of the bedroom. What's with the naked apron outfit anyway? Gotta check up on her later, I'm afraid she might've hit her head on a rock when I wasn't looking.

A surprising change happened overnight: before this place looked like an utter shithole, truly deserving the title of a small time gang's hideout. Now, however, revenants and ghouls are running around with makeshift brooms and mops, tidying the place in lickety-split fashion; some awkward but sturdy bird rests are assembled before my eyes, with undead birds promptly taking their sits and freeing up the space; chairs and a table for two is procured from somewhere.

Since when were undead so proactive? The answer arrives promptly as I notice Amelia bossing the blighters around like nobody's business. Why in the blazes are you even listening to her, I'm supposed to be the one who raised you from the dead, oi!

I'm picked up from two sides, seated, dishes are served, a small stack of papers is neatly left at my side by the gang's deceased boss and we are left alone.

Looking at the girl sitting across me with those unblinking eyes and an unnatural grin plastered on her face makes my skin crawl for one reason or another. Those roaches living in her head must be rioting again.

- So uh... Nice weather we are having today?

No response.

amelia.exe got broken again?

- Cough. Looks great, I'll just dig in for now?

With a valiant effort to ignore the awkward mood, my arms are naturally drawn to the papers prepared by the rotters. Handwriting is shockingly good and it seems like everything was written by the same person. Was this an accident, or they deliberately chose a scribe representative amongst them? Whatever the reason I'm not going to complain as long as it's convenient for me.

Absentmindedly operating the fork with my left hand I send food down my gob as I read the reports. They are mostly nonsensical, but there's quite a bit of trivia that might prove useful - guard patrol routes, list of safe/unsafe inns, crude map of the city with different gang turfs marked on it, names of the famous merchants and artisans of the city... Apparently, Jordan is one of the influential people in this place. Despite being the top dog, mayor Gaspar has to listen to the voices of such people, as they brought in quite a bit of revenue to the city and helped develop and support it.

Among the roster of these important people I've singled out another person simply known as Grizelda. She's an old sack o' bones alchemist that spent decades in this town concocting potions and salves that saved many people yadayadayadaboringstuff. There are just two things I'm interested in. For one, it is possible to earn favor from another city's VIP: her grandson, the last of her remaining family, has been slowly wasting away for the last three months and is currently on his last legs, getting ready to meet his maker. All she needs to prolong the inevitable (and possibly even cure him) is a certain herb that can't exactly be bought at the market due to how bloody rare it is. However, she has a hunch where it is. At the very same dwarven fortress that I wanted to drop by! It's written that she promised an exorbitant amount of money as a reward, but the locals immediately got cold feet as they heard of the destination. Even drifters got spooked after the natives shat into their brains with superstitions.

Alrighty then, let us proceed with setting roots in this city.

After finishing the Most Important Meal Of The Day we drop by Jordan's place to say hi and return the copy of Ice Magic before he notices its absence. Following instructions from the reports we locate Grizelda's rustic-looking shop and hop inside.

Dozens of smells mixed together assail my nostrils, stolen knowledge of Herbalism and Potioneering allows me to recognize most of them. Seems like the wooden carcass of the house itself was thoroughly contaminated with scents of various ingredients over the decades, I doubt anything could deodorize this shack.

- Who the hell is it this early?

- Top of the morning to you too, oldie.

Not the most enthralling beginning for a future beautiful friendship, but I've already roughly figured her character from the descriptions. Plus, having you last descendant pretty much on his deathbed prepared to wear white slippers for the rest of eternity isn't exactly the most joyous of occasions. Anyone would get cranky from that.

- Siiigh. What is it you want? No, let me guess. You look like a boorish ruffian, an eyepatch, a rotten look in your eye, decent equipment. Adventurer, to put it short. Healing potions and salves, am I right?

I take a look at the wares she has on display and smile to myself after spotting something clearly out of place among the other merchandise.

- Wrooong. A stimulant for my manhood please. Something strong, to let me go for hours on end.

Grizelda has an incredulous look on her face, then takes a look at Amelia (with her head barely above the high counter), who wilts under her stare with a flushed face, ears drooping down.

- You are a sick bastard.

- Yeah-yeah, whatever. Hand over the goods already.

Grizelda heaves another theatrical sigh at my beckoning give-give hand gesture and pulls out the exact potion I wanted. You sly old hag you~

- That will be 8 silver coins.

- Hold it.

I give it a critical look, frown, shake the bottle, open it and take a whiff. Then I jam the cork back and slam the bottle on the table, taking care not to break either in the process. In a low growling voice I question her:

- Do I look like a moron to you? It ain't nice trying to scam your customers, lady.

- Humpf. I'm an honest artisan. I gave you exactly what you asked for.

- Sure. Sure you did. You forgot to say that it is about...let's say...about four months overdue? It is clear as day that it was made from largo fruit, silverbarrow fish's scales and taiko grass. Largo fruit, among others, has the property of having its properties enhanced as it ferments. However, from that point on it will gradually decrease to zero and even go into negative, effectively turning into a weak gastric poison. The dark hue, the spicy smell... I know you have to keep your shop in the black, but such things should be thrown out immediately instead of being used to con your customers. Shit, out of the four bottles three are expired. Either reduce the price so that people actually start buying your stuff or change the component to the similar faeroot that is dirt cheap, admittedly has less of an effect, but at the same time stays fresh for up to a year - courtesy of being a common weed.

Grizelda's looks astonished, then her eyes grow sharp and she pulls out random unmarked vials from behind the counter.

- Tell me your thoughts on this.

- It's shit, you clearly botched the boiling process for whatever this was. It was supposed to be a bloodclotting potion that temporarily makes blood thicker to help stopping bleeding, I guess? There would be no effect though, as the excessive heating ruined it to the point of dramatically changing its color. Did you daydream of something while making it?

- Now this one.

- Oooh, now THIS is a fine piece of work. Textbook example of semi rare mana rousing potion - light blue color with azure hue of the powdered minerva stone; spikefern's spores changed their color from red to black, meaning that their poison was fully extracted away; the sparkling particles in suspended floating position from the emerald beetle's carapace that is very hard to work with, considering its hardness. I only wonder why you went out of your way to make it, as I've only seen just one mage in this city so far.

Old witch kept testing me with numerous other concoctions of hers, her sullen expression brightening more and more with each answer, eyes filling with a hopeful light. As if I would be fazed by something on this level. My bullshit eye power is simply providing me a cheat sheet with descriptions as deep and complex as I want to as long as the related skill is there.

- May I have your name?

- Kain. Just Kain.

- Grizelda. Just Grizelda.

We shake on it.

- You are also in the business, I take it. Came to size up the competition?

- As if, I'm not cut for maintaining a shop. Boooriiing. Let's just say that I picked up a few pointers from my teacher.

- Is that so? I'd like to meet him.

- That would prove...difficult. He's long dead after all.

I can't help patting shrunk Husk who is attached to my belt from behind like one of those leather bum bags tourists use to keep their IDs close. Must be my imagination, but I can almost hear Medrek's swearing from inside.

- What a shame. If student has such a wealth of knowledge and such sharp eye for the ingredients, I wonder how what his master was capable of... No matter. Can I interest you in a little one-off side job?

Heh, gotcha. Lots of time could've been saved by just going to the guild and directly taking the assignment, but this is different. Instead of the cold "I'm an electrician who came to fix your shit, took the pay and left forever, never to be seen again" approach, this is much more personal. Which is exactly what I need. Having a person who is high in this city's hierarchy directly owe me a huge favor is worth far more than any monetary gains. And it's not like I'm short on the coins anyway.

I join my hands in a steeple on top of the counter and lean forward with a friendly smile.

- What an unexpected turn of events, I'm interested in what it is you want me to do. Care to elaborate?

- Kain, have you ever heard of the blackroot?

- Blackroot? What an uninspired na... Ah. You mean the Cynthia's Lament flower, the one that grows only in places with abnormal amounts of mana in the air?

- The one and only. You even knew the original name, I'm impressed! Such extensive knowledge of rare plants at your age is remarkable.

- Still, why would you want it? I know it's a damn rare plant, but its value is low, considering the limited amount of highly specific potions it is used in.

- Truth is... My grandson is dying from a malady that plagues our lineage. I somehow survived the bite, but my grandmother, father and son all died when it struck. Now my only grandchild got unlucky enough to be struck by it at the gentle age. He's not going to make it without the direct cure, as of now all I can do is barely keep him alive.

I make a concerned expression.

- Damn... Fine, of course I'll help you out ma'am. But seeing how rare it is, I've got no clue where to start searching.

- I have a lead. There is a place in this forest that MUST have at least a small patch of those flowers.

- That's great! However, couldn't you just ask the adventurer guild to post a notice? They'd help you.

- Bah! Spineless cowards, all of them! Rushed in all high and mighty after seeing the payout, then run away with their tail between their legs when they heard of the destination.

- It's that bad? Did a dragon make a nest there or something?

- No, they are just a bunch of chickens afraid of a scarecrow. So tired of them, ugh...

After hearing the very rough explanation of how to get there, we set off and leave the city.

- [Erde, send me a map of the forest, stat.]

...

- [Erm. Pretty please? With a cherry on top?]

Weird. During our trip to Berg we were frequently sexti...texting, but ever since yesterday she stopped responding.

...she didn't kick the bucket and went to see archangel Michael just yet, did she? Now I'm needlessly getting worried.

With no map and with a lush forest blotting out the sun it took us nearly ten damn hours to find the place, despite it actually being quite close to the town. Now that think about it, it would be infinitely easier to initially climb up the tallest tree and scout for the bloody ruins.

But hey, at least we got to see jackalopes mating season, with males participating in spectacular one-on-one fights, powerfully clashing with their horns. It's weird how it is the second bunny-type UMA we've encountered this week. I could go down in history if I brought one of these little bastards back home alive.

As we neared the mountain range, Magic Perception started picking up on the gradually increasing concentration of mana in the air. Squinting my eyes I can see the azure particles clearly. We follow the trail to one of the overgrown mountains and arrive to dilapidated stairs leading to a prominent passage inside the mountain. Dwarf Fortress... I'm having high hopes for it. It must be something magical and majestic, I hear Grieg's Hall of the Mountain King playing in my head already.

- ...bordel de merde! When was the last time someone cleaned this pigsty?!

So much for magic and wonder - this place is like a crack den! Seventy seven layers of dust carpeting everything, broken glass, overturned rotten furniture, torn and burned gobelins, dark smudges that were probably left by food that rotted away to nothingness centuries ago, rat&bat guano... This place might use a cat or two to resolve the rodent problem, but who's going to deal with the cat piss then? It's a vicious cycle.

Thankfully, I see no ants or cockroaches. It would be ass gravy if we got any of those undying pests proliferating in our basement when I take over the place for my needs.

- This place is in such a sorry state. I were looking forward to see location similar to where my father was born, but this...

Yeah, that sucks. I pat her on the back for comfort.

- We'll tidy this place up, worry not. It is unhealthy to live in such a dusty place, so might as well do some spring cleaning.

- What do you mean by that? We'll live here?

- Yeah, it will be our house from now on.

- Our house?

- Uuuh. Yes? That's what I said?

- Ehehehehe...

- G-get off of me! Crazy woman, what the hell is wrong with you today?!

Going further into the halls we start encountering dozens of corpses strewn around - all of them being bleached or dirty yellow skeletons. I scan every single one, yet none of them seems to be undead. No idea how's that possible, my bet is on the thick clouds of vibrant mana choking this place. I have nothing to back my claims with, but I never seen such a mana-rich place before.

Corpses themselves are peculiar: their conditions are all very different, but all have one thing uniting them - a line incision on their skulls, like... Like the coin slot in an arcade cabinet. Insert-a coin and get an extra laif-a, mamma-mia!

Honestly, they are somehow freaky to look at. It's too clean, as if someone burned them with a laser. No matter how sharp is your weapon, if you lodge it in somebody's skull, the bones around will have cracks around the wound. But these are silky smooth. What has done these suckers in I wonder?

Then again, it doesn't matter now. It has been decades if not centuries and the only fresh footprints I can see here are left by us and small rodents, there's nothing to be worried about.

As we wander the halls, Amelia pulls on my sleeve and points at a wall with a giggle. There's a fresco of a dwarf eating half a cheese wheel with entranced expression, surrounded by a heavenly light and chirping birds. Why?... Next to it is a dwarf in his undergarments trying to strangle a fox while a jackalope is ramming his ass with its antlers. Okaaay? The entire wall is painted, eventually we see a scene of horrified dwarf fishermen, a swarm of giant three meter long carps capsizing their boat and swallowing them and dwarven marksmen shouting and shooting the fish with crossbows from the shallow water. Now that's just silly, carps never grow to...

I have a sudden flashback to the horrors I witnessed at the flooded dungeon. Fuck the water, never again! Thanks for the heads up, shorties.

In all seriousness, when does this place end? We've been walking for ages and I feel like we haven't yet seen even 5% of the place. Already encountered several barracks with around a hundred bunk beds in each, plus various other rooms and facilities like a distillery/brewery, smithy with incredible tools, armory with tons (of mostly rusted and useless) of weapons, munitions and armor, gigantic kitchen, rooms with tools for various crafts...

Eventually we reach a clearing with lush vegetation and direct sunlight moving in. It's already sunset?

The entire clearing is enormous, around an entire kilometer in diameter. When I look up, I realize something as I peer in the giant roofless circle through which the dying light invades.

- Christ, why? This isn't a mountain, it's a damn volcano, isn't it?

- Master, what is it? You sound concerned.

- You see, the thing is...

I quickly educate her on the Earth...whatever-this-planet's-name-is...layers, tectonic plates, earthquakes and volcanoes.

- Th-that's horrible!!! We have to run!

- Relax, it's not that bad. There are three types of volcanoes - active, dormant and dead ones. It is clearly not active, so it is either sleeping or outright dead. And since everything was left untouched after the dwarves all died for whatever reason, it hasn't erupted in centuries. If it erupted now of all times and killed us, well... With such shit luck we simply don't have the right to live, don't you think?

What can you say about the chances of it erupting anytime soon, Mr. Intuition? What, nothing? Useless as always I see, keep up the good work.

Fumbling around the field we manage to spot a huge patch of blackroots. Rare flower my ass. There's enough to fill a pickup truck in here.

Checking one of the other passages we see a cave with an entire underground river inside - arches to the left and to the right, too low to swim on a boat however small it is or even if it's just a barebones raft. On the other side of this quite wide river are numerous tunnels leading god knows where. Hell, maybe even god knows not. I sure as hell don't want to jump into the dark water to find out.

Still, I bring myself to come closer to the surface after scanning the surroundings with Detect Presence and touch the water.

It's warm. Almost hot even. Nowhere near the hot spring level where you can pass out from sitting there for too long and there's no clouds of steam rising from the surface. Absence of the smell of sulfur and crystally clear water with seemingly nothing extra mixed in reinforce my suspicion of this place being built inside a volcano. There must be a singular pocket of magma somewhere underneath this place.

We return and start thinking in which room to crash for the night, when suddenly Husk starts acting up.

- What is it? Toilet?

- *clang! clang!*

- I don't speak treasurechestian, pal.

The damn thing noisily hops away and there's no choice to follow. I can't exactly let our wallet/wardrobe/armory prance away wherever he likes without any supervision.

Husk jumps onto a nondescript room with nothing in it and spits out the dungeon core.

- You want to plant in here?

- *chomp! chomp!*

- Fine by me.

- Master, so cool! You really understand everything it is saying~

I don't.

- Dungeon Core, activate!

...

- Install?

...

- ...grow?

...

- [Erde, how about some help over here? A dungeonkeeping manual would be nice.]

...

Screw you guys, I'm going home.

We find a richly adorned single room nearby with a huge, soft and fluffy princess bed that is way bigger than any dwarf might need. I'm not complaining, as the once transparent, now covered in dust, curtains of the bed are really good at blocking away said dust, leaving the insides clean and pristine. Goodnight, us.

____________________________________________________________________________

We wake up to a horrible hair-raising chill.

- Uooooo...

- Eeeek! What IS that?

- Don't ask me, I've just woke up.

There's no way for me to cover up my irritation. What lousy little loach dares to disturb my beauty sleep? I sit up and vent my anger by scratching my naked ass. God, do I need a bath right now.

- M-M-Master, b-b-behind y-y-you.

- What's-s-s with the st-st-stut-t-terring? Cat got your tongue?

I look back and...

- Eh?

...there's a transparent bearded face covered in blood, staring at me crazily.

- SHORYUKEN!!!

I deck it in the face with my fist clad in light mana without hesitation.

It gets exorcised with a bloodcurdling scream.

- I'm going to pee myseeeeelf!!!

- Don't even think about it, I like this bed! Keep your bladder in check woman, you aren't THAT young goddamn it!

Now I regret my latest decision on what new skill to bestow to her. Since she is incapable of wielding any magic at the moment, I'll have to manage on my own while protecting her if any more ectoplasmic voyeurs show up. Well ain't that peachy?

It wouldn't do us any good to stay cooped in a room when the opponent can straight up phase through walls, so we dress up and exit the room to find the reason of the latest happenings. To the Mysterymobile!

Right off the bat we run into a skeleton of a dwarf with maxed out Blacksmithing. Thank-you-very-much! We proceed to gleefully pound him in the ground when a light bulb switches on in my head.

Aren't I a necromancer? There must be a way to tame these guys instead of wastefully killing them off, right?

Try as I might, there's no knowledge on the subject matter in my head which means in would be useless to try asking the old fart for advice. You'd think that someone who lived for centuries would at least ATTEMPT to do the first most obvious thing.

After stealthily skulking around the tunnels and dodging big groups of undead, we finally find our prize of a lone skeleton. I creep up on it, grab it by the arms and force it on the floor as Amelia hogties our guinea pig.

- Ouch, you shithead! Careful, this thing bites.

We drag it into the nearest room and close the door. Now, how to proceed from this point on?

I try imagining my will as a thread that creeps up its body and enters the skull, forcing it to submit. Skeleton starts shaking as if in pain or in fear and I can feel my mana getting drained at an alarming rate. The skeleton twitches for the final time and falls limp.

...

After a moment of silence eerie blue soulfire ignites in its empty eye sockets, illuminating the room. It turns its head towards me and stays still.

Unsure of what to do next I try poking its face and quickly retracting my finger, baiting it into biting, but it remains unmoving.

- Uhhh. Friends?

- ...

- Well then.

Eh, screw it. Might as well take precautions and just get it over with.

I cut the ropes and jump back, ready for it to pounce. However it simply stands up like a mannequin and persists in doing jack diddly squat. You are one boring fellow, aren't you?

- You, do a crab shimmy and put your hands in the air like you don't care.

- Master, I don't think it would understand.

Skeleton dances away with gusto.

- Success? I think?

Things started picking up from that point on - with our new little friend we proceeded with abducting other lone undead and dragging them away for brainwa...reprogramming them for the Great Cause. As soon as our numbers went over a dozen, we started aiming for small groups - two on our team double teaming single opponents and forcing them on the ground as I took my time with tampering with their (nonexistent) brains in order. There were some setbacks however.

For one, it took a toll on me to convert the undead, as each and every one sucked away almost all of the mana my body could store. It wouldn't be such a big deal as I almost always used the mana floating in the air, but surprisingly there's none to be had - a perfect zero, a barren wasteland! This is the first time such a thing happened to me in this world. Thank god for Manafont I suppose.

Ghosts were another disappointment for me - somehow I couldn't convert any at all. After examining them I noticed that they surprisingly aren't considered undead. Instead they were labeled as Spirit - Ghost, Spirit - Wraith, Spirit - Banshee and so on. It sucks, but I was forced to exorcise all of them. Such a waste of talent.

About two hours later we must've subdued all or at least all of them, as I got bold to the point of assigning teams to scout out and drag back anyone they could find. They took it a tad too seriously and too literally, bringing back any living or unliving life form, including rats. I thought of throwing them away, but instead killed them off with weak curses, raised them back as undead and ordered to go hunt down any other rats that reside in the nooks and crannies of the fortress. Might as well do the same with the vampire bats later.

Tired but content I observe an infantry company worth of skeletons, standing at the ready in neat rows, patiently waiting for orders. God this feels good. Goodbye Corporal Norman, greetings Captain Kain.

After losing myself in the afterglow for some time as we all stand there awkwardly in dead silence, a thought crawls into my mind.

- It's great to have competent minions on my beck and call, but... The hell am I supposed to do with you now?

- ...

- Ehem! Forget about that. Just... Go and make yourself useful to us, okay? However, you are prohibited from leaving the premises of the fortress. And choose someone to stand guard on the other side of the door of our bedroom. Now scoot along, I need my beauty sleep that you guys so rudely awoken me from.

Without as much as a word they march off in different directions in orderly fashion. No noises, no commotion, no chaos. Only inhuman efficiency.

Great, I think I'll enjoy working with them. Please work yourselves to the bone for my benefit until you die for the second time, little ones~