Antelligent Design

66. The Oppressive Sense

After we leave our little slice of Dungeon, cores fully charged and feeling fresh, we make our way to the capital in earnest. We’d done a few sweeps out this way before, but had resisted the urge to push too close in case we attracted the wrong type of attention whilst there were still people that could be saved, and roving bands of monsters that could be cleaned up toward the south.

Those things have been checked and delivered, so there’s nothing to stop us making our approach. Moving cautiously, we keep low, avoiding the main roads with Morrelia directing us west into the large forest south of the city. Moving back under those leafy branches is nostalgic to me. On the north side of this forest is where the colony set up our first nest on the surface. Not far from the village where I bit off Beyn’s arm. Ah, memories.

I wonder if the Branchies are still around?

Morrelia takes care that we stay hidden and out of sight as we continue north, displaying a level of woodcraft I hadn’t expected to see in such a bloodthirsty warrior. When I, perhaps unwisely, comment on it, she snorts out a laugh of derision.

[You think roaming the wilds is as simple as killing everything you find? If you don’t know when and how to hide yourself, a hunter will wind up dead and eaten before they can blink.]

[That’s a little surprising to me,] I reply honestly. [I haven’t seen anything on the surface that could hope to put a scratch on you or me. Is there really a need for that kind of caution?]

Morrelia continues to move and scout as we speak, her eyes shifting without pause and her feet placed carefully.

[Don’t get a big head. Surface monsters are much weaker than Dungeon monsters, that much is true, but there are still powerful creatures on the surface. Why else do you think the entire surface is yet to be reclaimed? Probably half of the landmass of Pangera is still considered wildlands, with no sapient race laying claim to it.]

[But why?] I exclaim. [I just don’t understand. If you have fighters that are able to battle in the Dungeon, then you can surely spend some of that strength on the surface? Don’t people want to rid the surface of monsters? Wouldn’t that be safer?]

[The key point you aren’t grasping here, is whether or not that land is valuable.]

[Well. You need land, right? For farming… and… living?]

Morrelia laughs, a harsh barking sound that suits her warrior’s demeanour far more than a girlish titter would.

[Oh aye. For regular folks, land is critical. Need to farm, grow families, fell lumber, mine. The wealth and prosperity of the common people is built on land, certainly. What about the elites? What about the rulers of those mighty nations? What do they need land for?]

The ire is rising in Morrelia and decide I should keep my mouth shut until she’s finished. Wisdom showing itself in me once again!

[The truth is, to the truly powerful, territory in the Dungeon is a thousand times more valuable than territory on the surface. Rare materials, monster components, cores, experience, these are the things they’re willing to fight for. The greatest empires of the surface don’t measure their strength by how wide their lands are, but how deep. The regular people on the surface are left to fend for themselves, when they aren’t being drafted into some new crusade beneath the earth.]

[So that’s why you spent your time hunting in the south? You wanted to use your Skills and strength to try and help out where others wouldn’t.]

She hesitates, just for a brief moment, but I catch it nonetheless.

[Yes. Amongst other reasons, I wanted to try and do something to assist people on the border. My crew and I would take commissions to hunt from the monarchy, bounties basically. It wasn’t much, but we made a living and got to feel that we were doing something worthwhile.]

I feel like it was a bit of a waste of her Skills. If she’d been doing something more like what she was doing now in the village, training people and escorting them into the Dungeon to allow them to build up the strength to defend themselves, it would have been a more effective way to protect the people on the border. You know the old saying: give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and he’ll kill monsters in defence of family and property.

Or something.

I make my opinion known to Morrelia and she seems to reluctantly agree.

[It’s possible,] she concedes. [I’ve greatly enjoyed training the refugees, more than I had expected I would. I never thought I’d have the patience for it. I’m not sure if it’s something I could have done before. Access to the Dungeon was restricted in Liria, just like everywhere, and finding people in the villages who were willing to flout that rule and fight for themselves would have been hard before this mess occurred.]

[Why is access to the Dungeon so restricted anyway? Wouldn’t it be good if people got a little stronger and advanced their classes?]

Morrelia smiles grimly, her eyes shifting left and right as she scouts for danger. [That’s exactly why. They don’t want people getting stronger, advancing their classes and potentially creating their own centres of power outside of their control.]

I sigh internally. Even in another world, people are still this petty and selfish. This kind of thing just reinforces to me the wisdom of the colony way of life. The idea of a worker trying to seek some sort of advantage over another worker is almost enough to make me laugh out loud! If anything, they would scheme to ensure they themselves were sacrificing more and working harder than others.

Our conversation has run its course, so Morrelia and I fall into a companionable silence. It will take quite some time for us to make our way through this forest, particularly since we don’t want to be seen. I’m not even training any mental Skills as we travel, wanting to maintain my mental energy in the event we run into trouble.

Fortunately, we don’t. After extended travel without rest, we manage to make it to the northern side of the forest. Somewhat sadly, we don’t spot the old anthill. I think we passed somewhat to the east of it, but the trees begin to thin out the nearer we come to the edge of the forest.

My nerves grow apace. I’ve heard a lot about Garralosh since I’ve been reborn, and her stupid children have scared the willies out of me on more than one occasion. I’m ready to lay my eyes on the culprit.