Dakota Krout - Dungeon Born (The Divine Dungeon Book 1)

Dale decided he didn’t really want to get into a political discussion, so he returned to the sewer system, “Why does building it take so long? Seems like it wouldn’t be too hard to make a tunnel with Mana...”

“Ah, now you come to the crux of the matter, stonework is hard, and expensive, but when it is done right, it stays in place pretty much forever. Stone Mages convince the stone that this is the shape they’ve always wanted; it would take intense destructive power to convince them otherwise.” Hans sagely imparted wisdom, “The King does care about his working citizens though, which is the only reason this project is being successful. Since the cost is so high, short term planners don’t really see the worth of the idea, as the common citizens are the main beneficiaries of it.”

“Oh, well I guess I don’t really see why it's such a big deal if they can just cheaply wash it away every once in a while.” Dale suggested.

“There is the argument of the uneducated, my friend. Filth in the streets like that causes unrest, disease, and is a strong blow to morale. Not to mention, who likes shit on their feet?” Hans intently made eye contact, “The sewers will make the place healthier, wealthier, and happier for everyone . More so for cultivators like us, who may live here a very long time.”

Dale was quiet, considering Hans’ words. “Hans, why do you know these things? I mean, I know you’ve been around for a longer time than me but…”

Hans was quiet a short while, a considering look passing along on his face. Finally, he began softly, “Dale, I… Don’t want you to think poorly of me, but I’ll tell you a bit about myself if you’d like.”

Dale nodded, eager to learn about any of his tight-lipped squad mates.

“Alright, well, I grew up here.” Hans started as they walked along a palm tree lined street. “I was the lowest of the low, basically an orphan for how much I saw my father, my mother died before I ever knew her. Undisciplined, wild, and hungry, I joined the street gangs that roam the streets. Kids my age, governed by usually just one adult, someone who survived in the gang long enough to be called an adult at least. The guards are not... kind... to thieves if they are caught.”

Dale gazed on in surprise, he had never expected these revelations. He remained quiet, knowing an interruption might stop the flow of information.

“I… distinguished myself a little too much. I was careless, and boasted of my success. A thief, a real thief, from one of the hidden Guilds, approached me and offered training. It is not an offer you say no to - not if you plan to live. Soon after, I was being taught everything you would expect, stealth, legerdemain, better ways to pickpocket.” Hans glanced at Dale, to see if he had his attention.

“Anyway. Then I was suddenly learning things I didn’t expect. Numbers, letters, politics, current events, etiquette. They had a plan for me, to make a big haul. I ended up in the Guildhall, of all places, at a fancy dinner for the sons and daughters of nobility. We talked, danced, and ate fine food. They never suspected a thing, but always walked away with less jewelry, or coins.” Hans reminisced fondly. “Such easy marks.”

“But my real target was a cache of memory stones locked in the same rooms, the cultivation techniques of the great houses of nobility.” Hans caught the surprised look on Dale's face and grimaced. “Not all cultivation techniques are equal. The royal family draws Essence in as a raging river compared to the trickle of most commoners’ slow dripping. If someone had access to this outside of the royals, it would allow for even cultivation all around the Kingdom.”

“Why isn’t that the case then? Do they just like to subjugate their populations?” Dale spoke with heat in his voice.

“What? No!” Hans yelped, surprised. “The lifespan of Mages and above is measured in centuries. The entire time, they are capable of siring children. Can you imagine what would happen to us if we had hundreds of millions capable of living for that long? They keep their abilities so they can rule wisely, and justly, as well as being the last line of defense for their Kingdom. Their minds don’t wander; their bodies are strong.”

Dale was confused, all he had ever heard was that royals and nobility took and took and never gave aught back. Hans was saying that it was actually because they were trying to preserve their reliant citizens.

“Dale, everyone can cultivate, but as you know it takes time and effort. Also, lots, and lots of pain. People still go off to adventure, but a large portion of them die quickly. What if everyone was a full-time cultivator? No other professions would flourish, and civilization would stagnate. We need everyone, from the lowliest cleaner, to the mightiest warrior. Without all of what we are, we would all likely die off.”

Dale finally nodded in acknowledgement. “I see. So if we had no farmers, because they were more interested in becoming fighters, people would starve for their neglect. No clothing makers, no chefs, no cleaners.”

“Exactly! In fact, that happens when war breaks out, other jobs get forgotten, and the entire Realm suffers for it. It is a sad fact of life as a human.” Hans told Dale, clapping him on the arm with a happy smile. “Now, back to my story. I had opened the drawer with the memory stones, and was taking my leave of the party when a flesh Mage showed up.”

At Dale's incomprehension, Hans informed him, “A flesh Mage is a water Mage who specializes in changing, distorting, all around altering of bodies. Usually human ‘flesh’, you see? They can find anyone, anywhere, if they have even a drop of their blood. They can also follow people from the imprints they leave on the world. Since I had opened the cabinet last, they somehow followed my trail back to the thieves Guild.”

“They sound horrible.” Dale thought about what kind of a person you would need to be to willingly work on living people.

“They are actually rather popular. They are very good healers, and can make people look however they want, given time. Women go to them to remove blemishes or supposed disfigurements, or just to enhance their natural beauty. Men go to them for similar reasons. In my case though, they were coming for revenge.” Hans explained, looking a bit despondent.

“When they found it was a den of thieves, they carelessly massacred everyone there, but finding all the memory stones intact, they stopped caring about me and left, the only reason I am alive today. Instead of blaming them for the deaths of my ‘friends’, I was impressed by their ability to do whatever they wanted. I joined the Guild as soon as they would take me, years later.”

“When did that all happen?” Dale queried.

“Oh, forty-ish years ago, maybe forty-five? Who remembers, besides, we are here!” Hans exclaimed, pointing up.

Dale looked away from his friend and saw they were standing outside a garishly colored building, with suggestive yet refined paintings on the walls. His face got red as he made the assumption as to what kind of establishment this was.

“Hans-” Was all he got out before he was pushed inside by his grinning friend.

***

“Ok Hans, you were right.” Dale groaned as he exhaustedly waved a hand at his friend. “I never knew this could be so… amazing.”

“I told you this was the place to be.” Hans purred.

Dale moaned. “I will never not come back here. It could never be better.”