Chapter 317 — The Hollow's Riches
The council chamber buzzed with an energy it hadn't carried in months. The table was covered in maps, hastily drawn by Varik during their descent into the dungeon. Each floor was laid out with jagged lines and notations—ore veins circled in ink, fungi marked with symbols, crystals highlighted in blue, and the occasional warning scrawled in bold script: CHIMERA. ACID DRAKES. GUARDIAN PRESENCE.
Kael stood at the head of the table, one hand resting on the parchment, the other clenching and unclenching at his side. His eyes scanned each mark as though memorizing them.
"Every floor is a vault," Varik said, leaning forward eagerly. "Mana crystals, iron veins, rare herbs—things we've never seen this close to the surface. We can't leave them sitting there."
"And we won't," Kael replied. His tone was sharp, commanding, but not unkind. "But we can't strip the dungeon like bandits. It has its own rules."
Zerathis smirked from his place near the wall, arms crossed. "Rules, yes. Like the beasts that return as soon as you climb deeper. A dungeon that bleeds its mana into flesh and fangs. I'd wager something below is feeding it."
A hush fell across the table. Azhara broke it, her voice soft but steady. "Then every expedition must be timed. We clear a floor, harvest its resources, and leave before the respawns consume us."
Kael nodded. "Exactly. We'll send gather teams down one floor at a time, protected by fighters. Each team will extract ore, crystal, fungi—whatever Varik's notes point to. Then they'll pull back, resupply, and descend again. A cycle of harvest, rest, and return. Each floor becomes manageable."
Fenrik cracked his knuckles. "So the militia gets real combat experience, too. Fighting monsters, not just drills with wooden blades."
"Controlled exposure," Rogan agreed, his gruff voice laced with approval. "They'll bleed, but they'll learn."
Thalos frowned, fingers tapping the table. "But the mana surge Zerathis mentioned… If something is filling the dungeon, it means endless beasts. What if the deeper floors spawn things we can't handle?"
"Then we find out on our terms," Kael answered. His tone was final, brooking no debate.
Lyria, seated beside Azhara, raised her hand slightly. "We'll need supply lines. Food, bandages, potions—more than before. If the gather teams go in without support, the Hollow will lose more people than we gain resources."
"Then you'll oversee it," Kael said, turning to her with a look that softened for a heartbeat. "Weapons, supplies, logistics—make sure no team enters without being prepared to survive."
Azhara added, "And I'll put together healer cadres. Not all of them can fight, but they can tend to wounds, patch armor, and send people back alive."
Selina, quiet until now, leaned forward with a sly smile. "And the magics found below? If you let me study those fungi and crystals, I might weave enchantments this Hollow has never seen before. With a stable supply, I could arm every recruit with mana-forged steel."
"Then it's settled," Kael said. His gaze swept the room, locking eyes with each council member in turn. "The Hollow grows stronger with every descent. Not by recklessness, not by conquest alone, but by building. Floor by floor. Resource by resource."
Varik's grin stretched from ear to ear as he tapped the table. "We'll map the dungeon as thoroughly as the Hollow itself. A living, breathing resource."
"Or a trap," Zerathis murmured, his crimson eyes glowing faintly. "But one worth bleeding for."
Kael let the daemon's words hang in the air before speaking again. His voice lowered, becoming thoughtful.
"One thing still troubles me. Each time we pushed deeper, the beasts above returned. Not just similar creatures—the same kinds, the same strength. Almost as if the dungeon breathes… regenerates." His hand tightened on the table. "Something below is pouring mana upward, seeding life where there should only be stone and silence."
Rogan's brows knit. "Then what happens when we reach the source?"
Kael met his gaze, unflinching. "We find out. And when we do, we'll be ready. This Hollow is no longer just surviving—it's growing. And I'll see to it that nothing, not this dungeon, not the church, not the daemon lords themselves, will stop that."
The chamber fell silent. Not with fear—but with a shared, burning determination.
The Hollow had taken its first step toward mastering the dungeon.
And Kael knew the deeper floors were waiting.