Moros's crew made it back in one piece — hauling a frantically thrashing subterranean spider with them, no less. The dungeon erupted into cheers and applause. The players welcomed them home like conquering heroes: Moros, Arthur and the gang, and... xX_ShadowBlade_Xx's corpse!
"My lord! My lord! Come out and help with a rez! We brought back a body!"
BurningChestHair stood outside the dungeon core hall, hollering at the top of his lungs.
Sharlock had been busy laying out his dungeon — he'd gotten as far as the interrogation room, and had started daydreaming about luring adventurers down from the surface world in the future, then capturing them for the full interrogation-and-torture package, raking in endless magic stones! He hadn't even gotten to the part of the fantasy where the magic stones started rolling in before BurningChestHair's voice interrupted him from outside.
Sharlock stepped out of the hall to look, and there was a huge crowd of players gathered around gawking, with a corpse dumped outside the hall — xX_ShadowBlade_Xx's corpse.
Sharlock glanced at xX_ShadowBlade_Xx on the ground, a hacked-off spider leg still jammed in his belly. Obviously, the guy had died out on a quest.
Moros was back too, wearing a face full of guilt plus confusion plus shock plus heaven knows what else. One look and Sharlock could basically guess what had happened: Moros had definitely been rattled by these players from the other world — their fearlessness in the face of death, their laughing attitude toward mortality, or, more accurately, the way they treated their own lives as completely disposable.
Sharlock looked over the crew that had gone out with Moros — every one of them grinning ear to ear except Arthur, thrilled at the completed quest — and understood exactly what was up! Yep, definitely spooked by these otherworld players' attitude toward life and death. For normal folks, dying means your soul gets carted off to the Realm of the Dead, no returns, no refunds. But these otherworld players don't go to the Realm of the Dead at all — they hang around in the dungeon core. If there's a corpse, you repair it and they revive; if the body's totalled, Sharlock just spends his mana to summon them back from the other world. The academic term over there is "rerolling a character."
Sharlock thought it over, repaired xX_ShadowBlade_Xx's corpse first, and xX_ShadowBlade_Xx resurrected right in front of Moros. The players huddled up to celebrate completing their first special quest, and subjected the iron-chain-mummified subterranean spider to a merciless wall of gawking — after all, most of the players had never seen a subterranean spider before.
Sharlock then called Moros into the dungeon core hall. Moros hurried in after him — the guy was completely lost at this point, with far too many questions that needed the Dungeon Lord's explanations.
"You saw it all, yes? That's right — my servants can revive. No trip to the Realm of the Dead required. Even if the body's completely gone, I can summon them back anew. Don't ask why — I'm simply THAT powerful. I am a high-tier demon, after all. The fundamentals of my nature are beyond your comprehension." Sharlock sat down, propped his chin on his hand, and said as much.
At Sharlock's words, a fanatical look bloomed across Moros's face. He was about to speak when Sharlock raised a hand and cut him off: "Don't talk. I know what you're going to say. You can't revive limitlessly the way they do — you don't meet the special requirements. As you can see, my dungeon is a little different from the average dungeon. If you'd like to keep working here, you're welcome to continue training them and finish your probation. Of course, if you've been scared off, you're free to leave."
The moment Sharlock finished, Moros dropped to his knees and bellowed: "Your Lordship! My admiration for you is beyond what words can carry! If you'd allow it, I would gladly sign a soul contract with you — to serve you for this whole life and the next!" This chapter is updated first at novelping.com.
The soul contract was the highest tier of contract there was — basically an indenture. You became the lord's most intimate retainer. Sure, you still collected your wages, but "quit whenever you feel like it" was off the table. Unlike an ordinary servant, who can just turn on his heel the moment the job sours, a soul-contract signer first has to figure out how to dissolve the thing — and after dissolution, there are certain... sensitive memory issues to handle. After all, once you've signed a soul contract, you ARE the lord's most intimate retainer.
Moros was passionate about it, sure, but Sharlock had zero intention of signing a soul contract with some gnome on a whim. Besides, what year did he think it was? Who even does soul contracts anymore? They're a nightmare to dissolve and flat-out embarrassing. Demon Lords of the new era attract their retainers with generous benefits and standout personal charisma — everyone's interests aligned, everybody getting what they need. That's how it goes, for the most part.
This text was taken from the author's official posting without permission; the published chapter supports its creator when read there.
Sharlock had no interest whatsoever in a soul contract with Moros. As a demon, privacy and a sense of mystery are important! Ever since he'd activated the dungeon core Bru, the guy popped into his skull for a chat at the drop of a hat — he IS the dungeon core, so that couldn't be helped. But add a Moros on top of that? That was a lifestyle Sharlock could not endure.
And Sharlock understood exactly where Moros's head was at, too: the man had watched those otherworld players revive without limit and felt the envy eat at him. Honestly, who WOULDN'T be tempted at the sight of unlimited resurrection? Ordinary creatures die and get carted off to the Realm of the Dead, after all — not everybody's born a high-tier demon.
"No need for the soul contract. You've got a wife, a family. I know it's not easy going out to earn a wage, but stay strong, keep your chin up, and stop daydreaming about selling yourself into bondage." Sharlock hauled Moros to his feet, ushered him out of the core hall, and added: "If you want to stay here, work with an easy heart. Once our Eternal Kingdom dungeon really takes off, the benefits WILL follow — insurance, housing, the works. Someday, even bringing your whole family over to live here isn't out of the question. Wasn't Frostlake City dug out bit by bit too? Alright, back to work. I've got high hopes for you."
By the time he finished talking, Sharlock had already walked Moros out of the dungeon core. The second Moros emerged, the players swarmed him in a heartbeat, chirping and chattering and waving their copper coins, demanding training.
Moros looked around at the goblins. He'd originally assumed Lord Sharlock was simply a rich Dungeon Lord — recruiting this many goblins in one go took money, after all. But now he realized His Lordship Sharlock was no mere wealthy Dungeon Lord — he possessed miraculous powers like THIS. Could he be the Satan of legend?!
As for the goblins in front of him — Moros had held nothing but contempt for them at first, dismissing them as newbies. But now, Moros packed that contempt away. If all these goblins could revive without limit, and stood that close to Lord Sharlock... the heights they might reach in the future were honestly too scary to imagine!
And the reason Lord Sharlock said he couldn't revive limitlessly like them — that he didn't meet the conditions — the thing he was missing had to be LOYALTY! Moros settled it in his heart: once Lord Sharlock got to know him, knew him as a loyal, hardworking servant who never complained no matter the load, His Lordship would surely grant him the same treatment as these goblins! So Moros firmly believed.
And the first step toward winning that glorious honor — toward standing at Lord Sharlock's side and sharing in his immortality — was to follow Lord Sharlock's instructions and train these goblins into proper warriors!
"Let's MOVE! We're going to train! But heads up — training costs money from here on out. One hundred coppers a session!"
Sharlock watched Moros lead the otherworld players back to the training grounds and put them to work. That was when the dungeon core, "Bru," picked the moment to speak up:
"With this setup, Moros's loyalty should stay guaranteed for a good long while. I'd actually thought Your Lordship would explain to Moros that these players come from another world — instead, you went and hid it from him. Are you trading on that to buy his loyalty?"
"That's one side of it. But mostly, I'd rather my secrets didn't leak out." Sharlock asked: "Bru, I'd wager there's not a second dungeon core in existence that can summon servants from another world like you. These otherworld players are a hundred times easier to boss around than the creatures of the Underworld. I can see that plainly — and so can every other Dungeon Lord. If they found out, how long do you think my dungeon could hold out against the other lords?"
There was a smile in Bru's voice as he replied, with total certainty: "Your Lordship might well escape with your life. Me? I'd get swiped on the spot. After all, it's not like I have anywhere to run."
"Well, there you go." Sharlock shrugged, then looked at the dungeon map displayed in the core — a good chunk of it already marked up with his plans. He asked: "We need to power this dungeon up, and fast. By the way — how many more of these otherworld players can you recruit?"
"Truth be told, one hundred is already my limit. To recruit any more, Your Lordship would have to upgrade me first." So said the dungeon core Bru. "Of course, we'd also need to post an announcement on the official forums. A recruitment expansion, in the other world's lingo, would be CBT2. By then we'd need to open up more areas and more gameplay in the dungeon to lure them in. And by gameplay, I mean varieties of work!"
Upgrading the dungeon core would require another dungeon core to fuse with — meaning either spending serious money or conquering someone else's dungeon. Neither was within Sharlock's power, so he let the thought drop. He'd been hoping to recruit a big batch of otherworld players at once to help build the dungeon; for now, he'd just have to shelve the idea of recruiting more.
"Eh. A hundred players is plenty to build my dungeon for now. Let's wait and see whether we hit a magic stone vein before worrying about it."
With that, Sharlock looked out beyond the core hall. Most of the players had spent their coppers on combat-skill lessons; a small remainder were hard at work mining, hauling, and laying flagstones. But out in the flowerbed, the life-skills player he'd seen before — "Charlie" — was still tending her plants. Or rather, the seeds she'd only just planted. Off in the distance, the little pixie huddled in the corner of her bed, sneaking glances over. Since arriving at the dungeon, the little pixie hadn't moved an inch. Sharlock hadn't restrained her with an iron cage — there'd been no need.
Sharlock was staring at the little pixie, lost in thought, when one of the mining players suddenly hollered from outside:
"Damn! Come look at this! Look what I dug up!"
══════════════════════ DUNGEON LORD'S NOTE ═══════════════════════
One soul contract offer, instantly declined — Sharlock told Moros to stop daydreaming about selling himself into bondage, and Moros walked away concluding the goblins' secret is loyalty. Is coach Moros's loyalty theory adorable or heartbreaking? A 5-star rating with a short review is how dungeon comedies get noticed out here. No pressure. Okay, some pressure.