Dungeon Growth Log, Volume 2: Dungeon Growth Log, #2

Chapter 32: No Way Out

Whether it was realizing that dropping weapons would prevent attacks, or noticing peculiar big rats carrying away shattered bones while the Skeleton Soldier kept coming, at some point, defeat swept through like a gale, taking over all the remaining living souls here.

The captain tried his best to gather the remaining troops, the disorganized soldiers awkwardly retreating under the officers' command. Everyone put in every ounce of strength, ensuring they ran faster than the dead – the only consolation for the living was that the dead were stiff and slow, unable to run.

Captain, are we not going the wrong way? the lieutenant caught up and asked, This direction isn't...

We're not wrong, the captain interrupted, This is the nearest city.

It indeed was the nearest city, but in theory, going north would have been the correct route. To the north was Colonel Benson's headquarters, where there were enough supplies, weapons, and soldiers to report directly and have the army respond swiftly.

We need a doctor, the captain said again.

There are special military doctors at the base too, the lieutenant responded with doubts, but having followed his captain for many years, he knew when to keep quiet. He nodded and did not raise any objections.

The captain indeed had other considerations, but he couldn't tell anyone.

Colonel Benson was not only the commander of the Aryan Southeast Garrison but also the younger brother of the Governor of Tasmania. Both were supporters of General Shirel, in other words, they were staunch hawks whose life's purpose was the fanatical pursuit of rooting out non-humans and destroying them. Look at this time, the Clean Edge cannon fell into the hands of the Hybrids, and the mysterious Wither Gas spread among the human army, causing the terrifying consequence of human corpse mutation. Everything involved was enough to unsettle them.

The captain worried that if he brought back the remnants, instead of getting treatment and answers, he would face punishment.

He feared that the blame for the defeat would be entirely placed on him, or worse, all the soldiers who had been in the Wither Gas area would be dealt with by those obsessive about cleanliness.

They arrived at Red Gum County before nightfall, and the guards were surprised to see them. The mayor didn't ask too many questions and arranged housing for the troops. Since the establishment of the Aryan Empire and the expulsion of powerful human enemies, the military had always held a special status.

The captain ordered the bitten individuals to be isolated. The appearance of a new group of zombies among the residents of Deer Horn Town made him have some very bad thoughts, and he hoped he was wrong.

Then came the report.

Before, the report wasn't handed in on time. The new report is harder to write than the last one. The captain described the situation in a neutral way, trying not to question the weapons directly. What did you provide that put us in danger without our knowledge? He couldn't raise this issue to his boss, even though he wanted to.

Writing the report was very difficult. The captain wrote it as quickly as possible and had a messenger deliver it to Colonel Benson in the northern camp. There is a small and difficult path between Red Gum County and the camp, which cannot be used by large armies. If the messenger is fast enough, they can make the round trip in a day.

The captain had a restless sleep that night. He woke up several times, dreaming of zombies, dreaming of his family back home, dreaming of his family turning into zombies.

The next day, without waiting for the messenger, two bitten people turned into zombies, and the guard killed them. Some others who were bitten started falling into a deep sleep. By dusk that day, the captain could not wait any longer and sent out several scouts to the northern camp.

The scouts returned the next morning, missing one person and others injured. They said a new checkpoint had been set up on the main road between Red Gum County and the camp. Guards were stopping everyone and refusing to explain why. An argument broke out, and when someone tried to force their way through, they were shot with a crossbow.

We tried going around to other places, but it seems barriers have been added everywhere. We don't know how long they are or how to get past, the scouts said.

The captain felt a sense of absurdity, then a chill ran down his spine.

Is Colonel Benson going mad? Does he want to keep everyone on this side? How could that be possible? But thinking carefully about the possibilities, Red Gum County is as remote as Deer Horn Town, with the sea to the south, a vast desert to the west, and the place where the Druids are to the east. If Benson informed his brother, who is the governor, under the orders of Governor Tasmarin, the southeastern corner of might be cut off from the map.

They threw the residents of Red Gum County and Deer Horn Town together with these wounded soldiers on this side, along with the Wither Gas, Clean Edge cannons, and those extremely dangerous creatures that can control trees and corpses. Not only did they abandon these soldiers, but also, to prevent the spread of contamination, anyone who came into contact with the soldiers, even those who might be infected, were left here as well.

They were abandoned.

Is there any news scarier than this?

Yes.

In Red Gum County, there appeared a skinny crazy person biting people everywhere. When they brought the body in military uniform to the captain, he saw a familiar face. It was a young officer, full of responsibility, who would never hide his own bites. This young man was not isolated, he suddenly fell asleep on the street, taken in for the night by a kind person mistaking him for a drunk. As a result, everyone had already seen it.

How did this person get infected? When?

The captain once again checked the army, and all the officers were ordered to count their responsible soldiers. Some absent soldiers were found lying on beds in the room, unconscious, while colleagues previously thought they were just tired. After the horror of Deer Horn Town, soldiers were exhausted and fell into deep sleep, which was understandable.

However, after a few days, no matter how much they shook, they couldn't wake up, plus their skin started to dry and wrinkle... This was not normal.

Perhaps on the night when they slept on the withered land, the Wither Gas had already seeped into the bodies of every soldier. It lurked quietly and erupted when the host was exhausted. Who knew? The adults never mentioned what the real dangers these weapons could bring to those who touched them, or was it just a clerk's oversight? When they sat in the office moving their fingers, they never thought a minor mistake would cause consequences for soldiers thousands of miles away.

Terrifying rumors spread in the army, the captain tried to suppress them, feeling exhausted. He racked his brains for a way to solve the dilemma, but couldn't come up with anything coherent and felt drowsy. Suddenly, he jumped up, his heart pounding, and ran quickly to the mirror. The withered face in the mirror made him scream in horror.

Commander?

The deputy walked in, looked around, then turned back to carefully look at him. The captain glanced at the mirror again. He looked tired with dark circles under his eyes, but not like a withered corpse. He just hadn't rested well for a long time, worried about too many things, and feared he might never wake up once he falls asleep - the longer he stayed awake, the higher the risk of not waking up became.

The deputy left with worry, leaving the captain alone once again, despairing about how to escape the predicament.

Need help?

The captain drew his sword and turned around. The sword pierced through the translucent figure in front of him. A faceless ghost floated in the air, like a nightmare.

I might be asleep already, murmured the captain to himself, Or maybe I'm going insane.

Neither, the ghost replied, You released poison into our forest, ran around chased by skeletons and zombies. You shouldn't be too surprised by a ghost's appearance.

But I've never read about faceless ghosts in the textbooks, the captain thought. But are the textbooks really reliable? They say Druids who can control plants protect nature, and Necromancers who control the dead are their enemies. What he faced was quite different. Countless descriptions and ways to vanquish ghosts and spirits raced through the captain's mind; currently, he was powerless.

Suddenly, he swung his sword again, watching it pierce through the ghost once more. The captain gave a bitter smile and sheathed his sword.

What are you up to? he asked.

I'm here to offer help, the ghost said.

Captain let out a sigh and said, Why are you helping the enemy?

Because you are cornered, and you being alive is more useful to me than dead, the ghost said. In fact, I am offering you a choice.

If he were twenty years younger, the Captain would have angrily refused. If this had happened ten years ago, the Captain would have negotiated with ambition and arrogance, believing he could benefit from it. The forty-five-year-old Captain just sighed and said, What choice? Just so you know, I am a top graduate of the Aryan Military Academy, so don't waste our time with children's tricks.

Tasha smiled silently, enjoying the deep weariness in the officer's eyes.

A negotiation partner worn out in spirit meant more gains.

On the third morning of the human army's arrival in Red Gum County, the dungeon's influence had already reached there. Before that, the ghost had quietly followed along, invisibly gathering a lot of intelligence – this tracking revealed to Tasha that the ghost's activity was indeed related to the dungeon, with greater distance from the dungeon resulting in more energy consumption, slower speed, and eventually dissipation.

Regardless, she saw the plight of these people.

Has the area been blocked off above? A ghost is watching from the closest point to the checkpoint. The checkpoint is very well fortified, made for defense rather than offense. It seems Tasha doesn't need to worry about a nuclear blast cleaning up zombies for now. In that case, these abandoned people are practically being handed over to her.

With the enemy's assistance, Tasha reached an agreement to stop the war and temporarily control one county and town under the conditions of not attacking each other and ensuring the infected people won't turn into zombies.

Yes, in fact, Tasha couldn't continue the fight.

The dungeon is running out of magic.

War is a costly weapon, even the Skeleton Soldiers, who can be reused, are costly to maintain. Converting Skeleton Soldiers into zombies, using Natural Aura to sustain the Amazonian's life, covering all expenses when the dungeon residents cannot forage on the surface, expanding the dungeon and setting up Trap Doors, repairing the wolf-headed body... all of them require magic. The significant consumption reduces the magic reserves at an astonishing rate. If the battle doesn't end soon, Tasha will have to stay behind closed doors pretending to be dead and farming.

Moreover, her initial concern upon waking up has become a reality. After moving a distance away from the center of the dungeon, the Magic Stones found are becoming scarcer. In Deer Horn Town, they are almost impossible to find. All magic relies on slime production, and even though more slime is created, magic production still needs time.

Due to humans' lack of understanding of the dungeon situation, Tasha managed to maintain the appearance of a victor and even deceived some interest after achieving her goals.

Great! Victor exclaimed happily, Truly a dungeon I trained!

...hehe, Tasha chuckled.

A demonic pact appeared in the air, written in a very sincere language. I'll give you my soul after death, it's only fair, the captain read the contract, chuckling to himself. We never know what will happen after we die anyway.

He picked up a pen and signed his name: Halite. The golden contract shimmered, and then...

Nothing happened.

Chapter 33: Magic

Is that it? Captain Halite asked in confusion.

Tasha's contract was genuine, signed by both parties correctly. The captain didn't see any point in deceiving at this obvious stage. But the contract, which should have self-combusted after completion, showed no reaction, with no indication of the contract being fulfilled in his mind.

What's going on? Tasha passed the ball to the natives of the abyss.

He's already a captain, yet he doesn't even have the rank of a soldier? Victor said in disbelief. It doesn't make sense, getting a title out of nowhere and riding on the military achievements of noble ancestors at least has some bloodline connection...

The rank of a soldier?

He's just a commoner!

But he is a soldier, Tasha objected.

A 'soldier' is just like a blacksmith or a tailor, it's just a commoner profession, Victor said.

Unfortunately, common knowledge in this world couldn't be installed like a language with the click of a button after making a pact, Tasha thought with a frown. This aspect was really bad; she always needed to discover what was happening before retroactively going to ask about it.

Thankfully, the communication speed with Victor in her mind was very fast; otherwise, having the captain waiting on the side would surely disrupt the mysterious and powerful aura that had been built up previously.

When Victor mentioned professional soldier, the profession he referred to was not about a means of making a living.

Distinguishing between a commoner and a professional adventurer wasn't about choosing their livelihood, but about extraordinary powers. Even the lowest-level Professional made significant progress akin to a complete transformation compared to regular people. Entry-level professions like thieves also needed years of training and combat experience; the people in this world were not like heroes born at Level 1 in the newbie village, becoming a hero itself required qualifications. They were more like NPCs with long growth trajectories—although the growth rate of human Professionals had surpassed that of most other races by far.

The problem returned to before.

The captain's hands had calluses from years of using weapons, his eyes sharp, his movements quick, his judgements in battle timely and wise, making him seem like a well-trained and experienced warrior. Why wasn't he considered a warrior, not qualified for signing contracts? It made one wonder, those soldiers who had no resistance to corpse poison before, were they not considered professional warriors either?

Degenerated to this extent because of a comfortable environment, huh, Victor sneered.

Because you haven't killed monsters or the Celestial Clan? Tasha asked.

Victor paused for a few seconds, then said, I never expected you to have such a connection with the clan of killers.

It's not that Tasha had any strange admiration for killing, people on Earth exposed to video games had some preconceived notions: players kill monsters to earn experience points → experience points increase to level up → strength increases and skills become more proficient. Looking at it this way, the key to getting stronger was not so much about training or fighting, but about killing monsters.

Aryan seemed to have no more monsters left.

Now wasn't the time to ponder these questions. Tasha set aside this tangled mess and continued, So how can I make a contract with him?

You pay with magic, Victor said, flipping through the pages of a book, It'll cost about this much.

The basis of a demonic pact is that both parties have some sort of extraordinary power, like magic, bloodline, or rank. It's like a ticket and qualification. If one party lacks qualification, the other party has to make up for it. It's like how a notary agreement requires both parties to pay a deposit or fee, if Tasha's chosen party can't pay, she has to pay a lot of money herself.

It's a really, really big sum. If Tasha can pay, she might as well keep fighting.

Why is it so much? Tasha gasped, I just wanted to make a deal with a regular human!

I told you before, the world is so bad now, like a zero magic zone. You need to pay all the energy needed to make a connection by yourself! Victor said, And in the past, making a deal with a regular human required a huge cost. It's a protection measure from the Primary Material Plane against higher beings, darn trade barriers. If not for this, demons would have taken over the world by making deals with weak-willed individuals. You have no idea how many weak people there are and how much they can do!

True, if it were as easy as trading your soul for power just out of resentment, it would be too easy. Humans are social creatures, if all the heroes were bought by the abyss, in a world where everyone is an enemy, no one could fight. Tasha sighed and crossed out her plan to unite the world for a better future.

Is there...a problem? the captain said cautiously.

It seems the captain lacks sincerity, the ghost said flatly.

I just signed my full name on a demonic pact to sell my soul, Halite gritted his teeth, I know darn well what consequences there will be, the teachers at the military school and the me from before would be happy to hang me in front of the school because of this, and you're talking about lack of sincerity...

You're holding back, the ghost said softly, Let me think, is it because of your wife and son? Do they live up north? Oh, that's a nice place.

The captain looked very pale, his voice stopped abruptly, as if someone was choking him.

Relax, let's turn this page together.

The faceless ghost chuckled lowly as it waved its hand, taking back the ineffective contract. Another green contract appeared in front of the captain, much looser than the previous one, not requiring a soul, but covering all the remaining soldiers under the captain's command. Beads of sweat appeared on Halite's forehead, he blinked his eyes and stared at the sinister contract.

I am not qualified to make decisions for those people, the captain said tensely, Perhaps you misunderstand, I am just their superior, I do not own them.

But they respect you, trust you, and are willing to be loyal to you, right? the ghost gently coaxed, You deserve their trust too, because you are the only one who can keep these soldiers alive under your command. Besides you, who else cares about them, who cares about you? If you promise to watch over them and prevent any foolish acts of betrayal, I will provide refuge for you all. For these soldiers, isn't working for someone a job in itself? I can swear not to make you fight against your former comrades - of course, if they come after you, then that's a different story, I need to defend myself, right? - I can also assure you...

The gray ghost floated forward slowly, its looming figure in front filled with pressure and persuasiveness. It had no face, no eyes, yet Halite felt himself being enchanted in its gaze.

The ghost said, "I promise you, I will not harm your wife and children unless they oppose me. If