The Strongest Spellblade

There was a muffled scream from behind the wall. I woke up and made my way to it. I brought out my Reforged Beginner’s Blade.

”Vibration Blade.” I drove it into the dungeon wall and cut out a large section ahead of my trap.

”Ward. Light Orb.” I kept my sword pointed forward in front of me. There was a struggling monster in the wall. It had clothes, but some monsters had clothing and weapons. What was interesting was that it was in a little cart that had become stuck.

The small, bearded humanoid creature looked at me with fear. It had to be around the size of a small child.

”An Abnormal, how interesting.”

My Danger Sense wasn’t spiking, so I wasn’t worried.

”Ah, no. No,” it said, slurring the word no. It spoke. The only monsters that could speak with their own intelligence were demons. I didn’t lower my sword.

”A demon. A weak one,” I said with a grin.

I would torture it heavily and question it. Getting a fresh demon would be great for extracting skills from it Alchemically.

”I am a gnome, not a demon, you halfwit human,” it shouted with fear.

”A gnome? Living in the dungeon’s wall? I have never heard of gnomes. Climb out. Any funny moves and I will kill you.”

”Peace. Peace. What do adventurers say? Peaces and fists?” it asked as it slowly climbed out of its little cart and out of the opening I had made.

”It is peace for peace, first for fist. Now what is a gnome?” I asked while Ozy kept watch from overhead.

”I am a gnome. A humanoid creature that can think. Not a monster. Not a demon.”

Its nose was slightly bigger, with no pointed ears. He was like a small human child.

”And what are you doing in a small tunnel in the dungeon wall?”

”Can’t say.”

”Can’t say or won’t say. It looks like you were sneaking around and trying to ambush me,” I replied and rested my blade on the gnome’s shoulder.

”No, peace.” It looked nervously at my blade and seemed like it was about to burst into tears. While I felt sympathy, sneaking around in the dungeon walls was something I was concerned about. What if these gnomes attacked? What were they doing? I wanted answers.

”Then talk.”

”We gnomes are secretive. To hide from others in the dungeon, we all swear to reveal nothing about our people. Can you let me go? Please?” There was a hidden society living in the dungeon. That was hard to believe. How would they even get food? And what of the monsters and the dungeon itself?

”You have a choice, mister Gnome. I am not letting you go. But you must pay a fee for me to release you. You can pay the fee, or I could speak to someone who can? What if I follow one of these tunnels?”

”There are checkpoints. We gnomes are careful. You might have caught me, but you won’t get the rest of us.”

I let out a sigh. The gnome in front of me was weak and clearly intelligent. There was no need to create more enemies.

I put away my blade, and Ozy landed on my shoulder pauldron to rest. ”Very well. You are free to leave, but I would be open to trade. I have food and other supplies. Knowledge as well. I am Justin Burnstock.”

The gnome was staring at Ozy and then back at me. ”You control that monster?”

”Yes, that is my pet, Ozy. It obeys me,” I said and scratched his head. The tension was leaving the area as it was clear there would not be a fight. I wouldn’t give a demon a chance, but this gnome didn’t feel like a demon.

I was using every sensory skill I had on it, and it was a physical creature. That was the confirmation I needed to be sure it wasn’t a demon trying to fool me. There might be a skill that could do something like that, but its clothing and cart showed that there was some kind of civilization.

The gnome finally introduced himself. ”I am Borwass Spryclick.”

”If you wish to leave, you may. I was concerned that you were a monster. Please pardon my harsh actions in questioning you. But we are in the dungeon, and I have never heard of or seen gnomes before.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

”Understandable. We prefer to avoid meeting with the other races. This entire line will have to be abandoned,” Borwass said with a sigh, looking at the wall I had cut open.

”I can fix it.”

”No. It has been compromised. They will remove the entire section, and I will be put into isolation for a long time just for talking with you.”

”Is there no way I could meet with other gnomes to discuss the possibility of trade of some kind?”

”Absolutely not. We have survived this long due to not dealing with others.”

”It makes sense since you are siloed in the dungeon section beneath the beastkin’s continent. You wouldn’t get so many people down here. Their skills are lacking, especially since they seem to struggle on the surface.”

I observed Borwass’s reactions to what I was saying.

”Oh, that is interesting. Very interesting. It is hard to get any kind of news down here.”

”How about I wait here? You go back and speak to whomever you want to. I would like to open a friendly dialogue.”

It was a risk if they had a legend that could target me or some other method, but I was too curious about these gnomes.

The discovery of an entirely separate race hidden in the dungeon was monumental. I could only imagine the shockwaves that revealing the information would cause. Adventurers would rip up walls everywhere trying to find the gnomes.

Borwass looked conflicted.

”Is there a problem? I can give you some items as an apology for what I did.”

While they might not seem like a threat, one gnome wasn’t enough to determine that. It was better to make friends than enemies.

”No. Just thinking. You remain here. I will be back in a day or so.”

I nodded and watched as he easily leaped up to the opening I had made in the dungeon wall. I had Ozy dissolve the glue substance so his cart would move freely.

After manually pushing it across the gap, it shot off with Borwass inside of it. Some kind of spatial manipulation was my best guess. I got out my portable cook set and began making a larger meal. I was hoping to share food with any gnomes that returned.

That would be a good way to make peace. At least, that was my hope. After the beastkin I wasn’t sure what to expect.

I just didn’t want to fight a race that lived in the dungeon in secret. That sounded like a nightmare.

I took time to chop up the food and use the spices I had from before to make a slow stew, letting the flavor seep into the meat I still had. The beastkin hadn’t given me any meat, and I wouldn’t have trusted it even if they had.

I noticed that all their clans were named after predators. If peaceful vegetarian beastkin existed, they were wiped out long ago. As I watched the stew slowly simmer in its pot, I also focused on my Danger Sense.

While Borwass Spryclick didn’t seem powerful, and I wanted peace with these gnomes, I wouldn’t let my guard down, in case they decided to silence me permanently. If I were in their position, it would be a serious consideration. While I could run, where would I even go?

They lived in the dungeon, which meant they had methods of navigating around. The wall tunnel was an obvious example of this. The fact that they used it a second time after my Danger Sense activated showed that they did not build it only once.

As for hiding, the beastkin moved in groups based on my understanding of their adventurer teams. They would form teams young and fight their way down, not replacing members. Each team would remain separate from the other teams.

It was an interesting strategy to ensure trust. Also, any losses were felt keenly, and the beastkin would help their injured teammates. A lone beastkin would really struggle on the 11th layer, where monster groups got much larger. They would likely die or wouldn’t be able to get back out.

They just didn’t have the range of skills to handle different situations like a spellblade could. They were pure melee fighters with the occasional spell skill. This lack of versatility was their biggest weakness. While it created a more uniform culture and dungeon combat system, they clearly hadn’t pushed melee combat to new heights.

The beastkin didn’t seem to have tier 4 and higher skills. I am sure their legends had a few, but they hoarded knowledge, and that was what made them weak as a culture and society. The College of Advancement was a paradigm shift from the days of the Eldarin Empire and hoarding basic knowledge. To the beastkin, a tier 3 skill was impressive and something to be treasured.

As for these gnomes, I didn’t have enough information just yet to make a judgement about them. But living in the dungeon carried enormous risks. Other groups and nations attempted to copy the Last Bastion, and all of them were lost.

The dungeon didn’t like permanent settlements, and there were logistical issues. Growing food in the dungeon consumed Mana from enchantments, which meant killing monsters to get their cores. If there were many people in one place, it made finding monsters more difficult and locked down a larger part of the dungeon.

That is why they sealed off the Last Bastion, using a single entrance that they closed most of the time. The dungeon could shift the location around and didn’t get annoyed.

It was a topic of debate whether the dungeon was truly alive, or more like the weather, just a complex system reacting to various stimuli. There were arguments for both suggestions, but referring to the dungeon being annoyed meant it would adjust things in a non-standard way.

Like sending our team to this part of it.

I blamed the warmech. The thing was cursed. It had potential, but it was just asking for trouble from the dungeon. The most important variable of them all was the one variable that nobody could control.

I continued to wait and let the pot of stew keep simmering. While it was tempting to pack up and leave after a day, I was hopeful of making peaceful contact with the gnomes. My father didn’t include them on his list of threats, meaning they were either very well hidden or not a threat.

They also spoke the Eldarin language, which was surprising. I would have thought they might have spoken Demonic or High Vostner. Or maybe even their own language. They could have their own language, but that implied a set of runes.

It could also be why the beastkin didn’t have any skills related to their culture either. No unique sets of runes.

If I returned, I would bring back a wealth of information for the College and cast the beastkin on the Eldarin Continent in an unpleasant light. I thought of Judy, who liked to cook.

Was it in their nature to be cannibals or was it a cultural thing?