The Crafter's Darkness: A Dungeon Core Novel (Dungeon Crafting Book 4) by Jonathan Brooks (ebook reader with android os TXT) 📗

Dragonlings that were part of his Monster Classification.  That was normal and what he was contracted to do.  Best of all, he never tried to absorb or attack her, so she stuck with him longer than anyone she had stayed with before.

That all changed when his dungeon was invaded and basically taken apart by a group composed of all the races nearby, who managed to get to his Boss room and were just barely defeated before they broke through.  Winxa didn’t know if they were there to actually destroy Wester or just to loot all of the Monster Seeds left behind by all of the Monsters they slayed, but the incursion and near-destruction of his Core made Wester snap.  He was never the same again, and from what little she could understand of his paranoid ravings, he was going to make sure nothing like that could ever happen again.

He started to hoard his resources and expand his dungeon, accumulating enough Advancement Points to develop some nasty Monsters.  The differences didn’t stop there, as he started to attack settlements in the world above, which he had never done before, accumulating more and more Mana as he increased his AOI significantly.  By that time, he was nearly unstoppable, no one dared to even come near his dungeon anymore – and yet he wanted more.

It took the combined might of all four races to stop him, and the result of that battle was what turned the once-lush forest into what it was today.  Up until that day when his Core was finally destroyed, he never once talked to her again directly, though she stayed with him hoping that the old Wester would come back.  Now, it seemed as though Sandra was doing the same thing, and as much as she knew she should just abandon the Core instead of watch as her charge destroyed everything they had worked so hard to build, she couldn’t help but stay there and hope that the Creator would grant some miracle and turn Sandra away from the course she was on.

As she was hoping for a miracle, Winxa couldn’t help but think, Where in the world are Violet, Felbar, Echo, and Gerold?

Chapter 42

Violet paced back and forth in the room where she was confined, restless with the need to do something, anything, to get back to Sandra and her dungeon.  Looking down at the wooden floor she walked, she imagined that she was wearing a pathway into the floorboards, though she realistically knew that it would take a lot more time than just a few days for that to happen.  Still, the ache in her legs as she continued to walk without anything else to do told her that if she kept it up, she just might see a change in the wood sometime sooner rather than later.

She passed by the bed for the umpteenth time that day, thinking not for the first time that she was glad that she had such a luxury.  Back in Sandra’s dungeon, the beds that the dungeon core had made were serviceable – especially after she improved upon the pile of rancid leather skins that they had been previously – but they weren’t anything like the comfort of home.  The bed she was given was much more comfortable in comparison, just like everything else in the room and adjoining bathroom.  It was a richly appointed room in the palace, so she didn’t expect anything less…but it was also her prison for the time being.  A genuinely nice, amazingly comfortable prison where she didn’t want for anything and could ask for just about anything to eat, but a prison, nonetheless.  The only thing it lacked was a dose of freedom to continue her quest to help Sandra and her own people at the same time.

I wonder; is Felbar suffering from this same luxurious confinement?  She hadn’t seen him since just after they arrived via the giant bird that brought them, and she worried about what was happening with him.  He had been there for her to cope with the tragedy of most of her friends being killed in their village – once he woke up from his coma, of course – and always provided the greatest help with her projects, even though he wasn’t as knowledgeable about all of the technical enchantments she was used to.  He had been the father figure she needed, and gave excellent and timely advice whether she knew she needed it or not.

I could certainly use some of that advice now….

 

*         *         *

 

Echo sat back and stared at the branches swaying gently above her head, the roof of her “cell” comprised of multiple limbs woven together naturally, which left them free to move independently of her room.  She could tell that they were naturally grown, because they were just slightly off from being perfectly aligned, which meant that they had been coaxed to grow that way over the years.  It was an affectation she had noticed in the capital since she had arrived a few days ago; while growing the tree limbs could be done in moments with an application of Natural elemental energy, it was seen as much more prestigious to grow them naturally – as if that makes any difference whatsoever.

There were enough gaps in the roof that she thought she could probably climb out of them, though there would be no point.  The door to her room carved into the Royal Family Tree wasn’t locked, so she could technically walk out at any time; however, there were guards out there that would politely but firmly ask her to stay inside.  For her safety and all that, though she wasn’t exactly sure what she needed to be safe from.  All the problems were happening back by the wastelands and the dungeons near there; there shouldn’t be anything here that could harm her.  Well, maybe not anything, but perhaps anyone would