Dungeon Master (Karma System)

The Golden Axe Guild spent three weeks preparing for its second defense challenge.

Lord Titters’s sponsored group used the first reservation ahead of them. They survived nineteen hours before their group was overrun by those green menaces.

The mixed group of twenty adventurers and five last-minute recruits lasted fourteen hours. Their individual parties fought well. They never agreed on who commanded all twenty-five people. It was obvious that their coordination wasn’t on the same level as the first two groups.

Matthew intended to learn from both failures. He stood inside the defense dungeon while his guild unloaded supplies from the starting wagons.

”No single outer wall. We build three positions and we retreat before each one becomes a grave.”

The fortifications spread around the merchant wagons in layers. Archers had marked ammunition for specific waves. Repair crews carried hammers instead of swords. Every adventurer knew which position to defend and where to go if it fell.

The first horn sounded.

[Defense Challenge begun.]

[Participants: 25]

[Completion requirement: Protect the merchant caravan for 48 hours.]

The early goblins remained weak and poorly armed.

Golden Axe did not waste its best ammunition on them.

The first waves tested positions and consumed time. Matthew ordered damaged barricades repaired during every hour of rest. When dungeon coins appeared, the merchants inside the protected wagons opened their inventories.

The goods were overpriced and limited. Golden Axe bought every bundle of nails.

By the sixth wave, they had also purchased arrows, bandages, and two simple traps. They ignored the better weapons. Replacing a sword would not matter if the fortifications collapsed.

Night changed the dungeon.

Torches appeared in the distance before the attacking force. Goblin archers fired burning arrows while small groups crawled through the dark grass toward the wagons. Golden Axe withdrew from its first position before flames consumed it.

The second line held.

[Challenge duration: 16 hours]

[Participants remaining: 25]

Matthew allowed himself to believe they could finish.

Hizon watched from a control chamber beneath the battlefield.

Stone panels displayed every defense position. The Golden Axe Guild appeared as clusters of blue lights. The hobgoblin boss’s attacking forces moved in green, and the protected wagons glowed gold at the center.

He did not command individual goblins after a wave began. Their officers followed prepared objectives, and the adventurers changed those objectives simply by choosing where to stand. Hizon decided which wave came next, how long the merchants remained open, and which limited supplies appeared for sale.

One of his hobgoblin assistants pointed at the guild’s second line.

”They will leave before the walls break.”

”They learned that from the rich lord’s group.” Hizon replied.

”Should we send the bullet ants early?”

Hizon shook his head. ”Early surprises teach them too soon. Let them think they know the order of the enemies.”

He approved the normal night waves and saved the giant bullet ants that could serve as mounts.

At twenty-one hours, the dungeon merchants opened for seven minutes. Golden Axe arrived with coins sorted into labeled bags. One adventurer bought supplies while the others repaired, ate, or slept.

They did not argue over enchanted weapons.

Hizon watched them buy every water barrel, bowstring, bandage, and hammer handle.

”Good customers.” He said while they were paying for the over priced goods and sending the dungeon coins directly to his pocket.

Then he added the bullet ants to the first daylight attack.

At twenty-four hours, the sky brightened.

Exhaustion mattered even when resurrection waited outside the level. Golden Axe divided itself into shifts, but nobody truly slept while the ground shook beneath attacking monsters.

The second day introduced armored goblins, bullet ant riders, and crude siege frames. The guild abandoned another position and formed around the final fallback line.

They were still ahead of every previous group.

At thirty hours, two attack horns sounded from opposite sides.

Matthew expected a distraction. He committed the reserve fighters to the southern line while the northern repair crew continued working.

Both attacks were real.

A group of shield-bearing hobgoblins struck the south. At the same time, fire carriers rushed the damaged northern barricade. The repair team stopped the first three. The fourth fire carrier reached the wall.

Flames spread through the fresh timber. Adventurers moved north, weakening the southern line. One of the merchant wagons caught fire while the healers tried to cover both sides.

Matthew ordered everyone to the final circle around the remaining wagons.

They fought for another hour.

The last wagon broke beneath a siege hammer allowing ranged attackers to lay eyes on the merchants for the first time. They didn’t live long.

[Primary objective failed.]

[Challenge duration: 31 hours, 18 minutes]

[New progression record established.]

Matthew left the hospital carrying several sheets of notes.

His guild gathered around him.

”The northern reserve was too small.” One adventurer said. ”We need more manpower there during the 7th wave.”

”We bought the traps too early.” Another argued. ”If we saved those coins, we could have reinforced the third line.”

”We need a separate fire crew, to make sure everything doesn’t go up in flames.”

Matthew wrote down all three suggestions.

The assistant guild leader waited until the first rush of ideas slowed. ”Thirty-one hours is a major improvement.”

”Seventeen hours short.” Matthew replied.

The Hall displayed the new record before anyone could argue.

{Longest Defense Maintained}

{Golden Axe Guild — 31 hours, 18 minutes}

{Farthest Defense Dungeon Progress}

{Waves completed: 9}

Matthew looked at it once and returned to his notes.

”Reserve us another slot.”

The request could not be scheduled for several weeks. Other groups had already claimed the next weekly openings after seeing Golden Axe’s progress.

Matthew accepted the delay. The guild needed time to replace equipment and test new barricade plans. More importantly, it needed rest from an attempt that everyone remembered in full and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to raise their levels either.

Before leaving the Hall, he divided his notes into four lists.

Fire response. Night discipline. Merchant purchases. Retreat timing.

***

Hizon waited inside the Undercity counting the dungeon points generated by the attempt.

”Thirty-one hours and they bought almost everything the merchants offered.”

Max checked the sub-dungeon records. ”And they still did not clear it.”

”Best kind of customer.” The hobgoblin opened a second menu containing rows of goblin names.

”I have made progress on the conversion to eternal souls. All my hobgoblins were already done. Now I have converted four hundred and twelve regular goblins.”

Max looked through the list. Hizon had selected merchants, engineers, healers, and several later-wave commanders.

”You still have more than five thousand to go.”

Hizon’s ears lowered. ”You make it sound bad when you say it like that.”

”The dungeon stays weekly until the creatures can reset. Once they are converted the Golden Axe Guild can try multiple times a week if they want.”

”I know. I am putting most of the profits back into them.” Hizon closed the menu. ”I did not improve the early waves either. Weak goblins make adventurers comfortable. Comfortable adventurers waste things.”

Hizon led Max into a training chamber below the control room.

Converted goblins practiced in organized groups. When one died during a drill, its body disappeared and reformed near a small sub-dungeon anchor. The goblin shook itself, collected a replacement weapon, and returned to formation.

Unconverted goblins trained on the other side of the room. Their officers stopped every exercise before an injury became fatal.

”Eternal ones can learn from dying. The progress they make after just a few deaths is actually impressive” Hizon said. ”Regular ones only die.”

That difference explained his order of conversion. Merchants and engineers needed to remember every attempt. Healers and officers improved the entire force. Later-wave soldiers died often enough that restoring them saved resources.

”Why these twelve?” Max asked, pointing toward a squad wearing plain armor.

”They survived Golden Axe three times in one challenge.” Hizon smiled. ”Good instincts. Worth keeping.”

The squad saluted when they noticed him.

For Hizon, eternal souls were not simply extra lives. They were the difference between weak goblins and building an army that accumulated experience.

Max approved. The opening waves were supposed to look manageable. Hizon’s growing eternal force would strengthen the later portions without changing that purpose.

***

Max’s final stop was the Gibble-Hammer workshop.

Five assembly lines filled the warehouse. Mechanical hands poured metal, removed cast pieces from molds, sharpened edges, and packed finished products into crates.

Hammer met him beside a mountain of construction nails.

”The Core accepted the latest wholesale batch.” The runesmith reported.

Gibble stood near the sword line with his arms folded. ”Nails made more profit again.”

”That is good. Why do you seem angry about it?” Max said.

”They are nails.”

”Profitable nails.” Max reiterated.

”Nobody sings songs about a legendary box of nails.”

Hammer picked up a bar of silvery metal from the worktable. ”The profits bought enough moonsteel for two proper projects.”

Gibble’s expression improved slightly.

”Fine. The nails may continue.”

Hammer led Max past the lines while Gibble explained every flaw the automated hands had introduced since their last appearance.

The dagger line produced one uneven edge in every forty blades. The arrowhead molds wore out faster than expected. Short swords required manual inspection because a mechanical hand could measure balance without understanding whether the weapon felt wrong.

”And the spearheads?” Max asked.

”Perfect,” Gibble admitted unhappily. ”The machine makes them exactly the same every time.”

Hammer opened the wholesale ledger. The Dungeon Core purchased every completed batch at a fixed rate. Once sold, they entered the Core’s supply system and could appear in rewards, shops, or future construction orders in any dungeon spread across the multiverse.

The arrangement kept the workshop profitable without turning it into the Undercity’s private armory.

”We can add a sixth line next month.” Hammer said.

Gibble looked toward the crates of nails. ”Armor rivets.”

Max expected another complaint.

”More profitable than nails.” The blacksmith added.

Hammer smiled. ”He has been studying the ledgers.”

”I hate the ledgers. That is why I intend to defeat them.”

Max left before the dwarf changed his mind.