The Church of the Path is founded on the belief that all things born of the Dungeon belong to the Old Races. The resources that are found there, the territory and space, the mana and, perhaps most importantly of all, the monsters.

Monsters give experience when killed, allowing the slayer to grow stronger. They also contain valuable materials; their cores, primarily, but also the precious substances that make up their bodies, things that often cannot be found any other way.

A globe-spanning entity with adherents in every one of the old civilisations, the Church is a powerful entity with a simple mission: the complete and utter domination and exploitation of the Dungeon.

This view has put them at odds with other organisations, such as the Legion, who view the Dungeon as a danger and threat, but they remain undeterred.

Among the most important secrets of the Church has been their development of the Elixir, otherwise known as Dungeon Nectar. A miraculous beverage that can empower others simply by drinking it, the method of its manufacture is known only within the Church, though many would commit dark deeds to learn it.

- Excerpt from “Power and Influence: Church of the Path” by B.S. Wordsmith

The monster twisted in agony, suspended from hooks anchored into the stone ceiling. Senior Priest Alir tsked loudly as he looked up from his desk.

“Try to be still, stupid beast,” he grunted as he stood.

A quick tour of the chamber showed that the array was still functioning as intended. As he watched, another drop of golden liquid dripped down from above into the receptacle and he nodded, satisfied.

“You will serve your purpose in death, monster,” he said as he sat once more and turned his attention to the report that had filtered to him from the Cardinals.

Cardinal Horace had remembered Alir was the one to first report contact with the ants and ensured the document found its way to him. Quite considerate.

What he read was… fascinating, to say the least. Monsters, actively working with others, seizing territory, reports of a tier seven ant, the first in recorded history. Rather than a ravenous horde of mindless insects, these ants appeared to be building an empire.

Unusual, would be one way to phrase it, unheard of, another. There was something different about this, but then, these were unusual times.

Mana continued to rise across the Dungeon, repeated waves, so close together. The Church could clearly see what was coming. Thousands of years of preparation were coming to a head, any change or new factor had to be carefully considered.

What to do with these ants then?

It was hard to put them out of his mind. There had to be millions of them, most of them tier four, and a mythic as well. Such a resource. Should they be properly harvested, a veritable river of Elixir would flow through the Church. It could be just what was needed to fortify them before the Ancients rose.

Or it could come back to bite them. Kicking the anthill at the wrong time wouldn’t pay off, rather the opposite.

Alir glanced down at the letter the Cardinal sent.

There are plans underway already, but I value your input. In fact, I wish you to be a key component of our council. We must not make missteps at such a critical time.

It was a summons, drawing the High Priest away from his critical work. Still, he understood it, he was an Elixir specialist, and these ants would make a fine brew indeed.

He needed to think.

He stood once again and walked a slow circuit around the monster that continued to thrash weakly above. The array carved into the stone continued to burn with a dull light as it worked its magic on its target. The result of hundreds of years of research from tireless priests who demanded that the Dungeon yield to them, this array was one of the greatest achievements of the church, or indeed, of civilisation.

After all, why should a monster only yield a portion of its experience? The System was the Path on which all must walk, but who’s to say it could not be improved? Extract all of it, that had been the dream of those early pioneers. They had very nearly succeeded. The Elixir wasn’t perfect, but it certainly was close.

A million ants, just what would Alir do to get his hands on a crop like that. But how? They couldn’t be underestimated, that much was certain. They had survived an attack from the Legion, nothing to sneeze at. It would not be a simple endeavour to launch an undertaking of this magnitude.

They would need allies. It may be possible to draw on the Legion, though unlikely; they would be too focused on the upcoming cataclysm. The Ka’armodo, the Empire of Stone, perhaps even the underwater kingdoms of the Brathian, surely someone would be willing to assist if promised enough Elixir.

Alir chuckled darkly to himself.

With enough Elixir, the Church could make the whole world turn. Perhaps even the Tower, or the Golden City, could be made to move for wealth of this magnitude. Everyone knew what was coming, even the silver beards buried in their libraries had to be clear on the danger.

Now would be the worst time to have a burgeoning Ant Kingdom rising.

Yes. Yes, that was how he could sell it. This was a threat that needed to be extinguished now, before the Ancients rose and turned all monsters into their ravenous slaves. From that point of view, he could say that this mission wouldn’t be drawing away from their defence against the cataclysm, but striking an early blow against it.

It made sense, the logic worked.

He looked up at the monster twisting above, continuing to have its essence ripped away and dripped down into the pool below. Another three hours and this creature would no longer exist except as a husk, ready for the Dungeon to reclaim.

He stepped carefully to the centre of the array and reached down with one hand, scooping a small handful of the precious liquid and bringing it to his lips.

The taste was dreadful, as was to be expected from anything extracted from monsters, but that was hardly the point.

[You have gained experience.]

That was what made the world go around.