Draconic Karma Dungeon

Chapter 72: Letting Go of Leashes

I don't like this. It's too slow. I can't help them if I'm not there. With them.

Helping them.

After waking up from his adrenaline crash, Agtius had felt forced to go through the empty 7th Floor slow and steady. He didn't like having to do so, but the giant had no way of knowing just how long he would be out of it, should it happen again. According to the unexplained countdown above his head, he had lost over an hour last time he passed out.

An hour is a long time in a Dungeon this young. Long enough that the others should have been done by now! But clearly the Dungeon is still there. Still, keeping the goddess captive at its very core.

Wasn't there something about the Dungeon growing faster than normal? Must be why they haven't reached the end yet.

After all, the only other explanation for why it still exists would be that they died, and we all have way too high tiers compared to the Dungeon for that to happen!

The Hypnosis didn't let him consider that his fellow devotees might have fled.

No follower of The Order of The Broken Goddess was able to consider abandoning their duty to the broken goddess, after all, and subconsciously Agtius knew this.

Agtius wasn't afraid of admitting to himself that he had hit his limits. Taking it slowly was better for his health.

And he would have a hard time helping his fellow devotees if he was about to pass out.

It could be longer than an hour next time! And even half an hour would be too much wasted time!

Think positively! Moving slowly is better than not moving at all!

… Which is what would happen if I tried to force myself…

At least I don't have to worry about any monsters or puzzles on this Floor! I just have to keep an eye out for untriggered traps! Which might not be my specialty but I know enough to spot traps in a Floor of this low a tier!

Another dizzy spell hit, forcing the giant to stop in his tracks and take a deep breath before continuing.

I just wanna help…

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"No signs of any keys on my end." Mlartlar stated matter of factly. The half elf half vulpinekin preferred to joke around and laugh at life, but he was well aware that the middle of a dangerous Dungeon was no time to joke and acted accordingly.

But boy was he gonna have fun writing his report on the crusade!

Not that writing a report was something The Order of The Broken Goddess actually did. Sure, the leader of a crusade, bishop Marthox in this case, had to give a verbal report to someone of higher rank, but even that report was usually just a statement of whether the crusade succeeded, how many had died, and if they expected any future trouble from the locals.

No, Mlartlar wrote reports on his battles partly as a way to learn from his mistakes and his opponent's successes, and partly to share with his fellow 'battle nerds', as they affectionately called themselves.

Why 'battle nerds' and not something cooler?

'Cause it was essentially a book club. A book club, where they suggested books, articles, and monuments with each other, all gathered around historical battles, military and strategies. And where those of them who actually participated in battle - on the field or simply planning it out behind a desk - would share their experience in hopes of gaining additional insight.

And admittedly, it was often quite the confidence booster, as these days Mlartlar was praised more often than criticized for his reported actions. And he didn't even have to fiddle with any of the details, like he highly suspected some of the other battle active members sometimes did.

But to get the best possible report one needed to know what happened all over the battlefield, which was why Mlartlar preferred to stand on the edge of it. It gave a better overall view, where he could observe both allies and enemies and their strategy, strengths, and weaknesses.

Though, being able to accurately describe the battle after it was over wasn't the only reason for his strategy.

Admittedly it had started out as such.

But The Order had taken notice of how observant he was and his great - even as a young adult - knowledge of combat. Mlartar was then bought and taken out of slavery so he could use his abilities to aid The Order and their broken goddess.

So these days he used his knowledge and observation skills to Command his allies in the best action while in the middle of combat. Should they obey his Command they would receive a boost as they did so through his Class.

And as his advice was just about always good when it came to combat, the combination had led many battles to victory.

As such, Mlartlar standing on the edge of the battlefield was quite an advantage for everyone but their opponents.

Not that he feared getting into actual combat himself! Close combat was fun in its own way! It just didn't let him observe the battlefield as a whole as effectively.

"Huh?!" Bishop Marthox did a surprised jump as Mlartlar spoke.

Odd. I know he has Awareness in the fifties, he should have been 'aware' of my arrival. The internal pun made a slight smirk appear on the Battle Commander's face, before seriousness took back control. I wasn't even trying to hide my arrival.

The muskin bishop blinked rapidly as he tried to focus on the world around them and their current situation.

Ah! He was lost in thought. Mlartar gave a slight, self-satisfied nod as his observation skills had once again allowed him to come to a solution.

The bishop didn't get to say a word after regaining his senses, as they were interrupted by their three allies rejoining them and reporting their keyless results.

Huh… Ignoring the muskin suddenly stuttering to their allies, Mlartlar went to get a closer look at the door to double check what the corner of his eye had shown him.

And sure enough! The door wasn't actually locked at all! Between the door itself and the wall beside it, right by where the door handle and the keyhole were, could be seen a single metal rod.

One. The one meant to keep the door closed. Not two, as seen on a locked door.

Naturally, Mlartlar went to open said closed, but not locked door. And open it did.

Interrupting the bishop's awkward stuttering and confusing all 4 of them.

Mlartlar simply smirked teasingly at them and said, "The door wasn't locked," before turning around and walking through it.

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The secretly-not-a-bishop-anymore Marthox had no problem letting Mister Mlartlar lead… the group - no longer would he refer to them as a flock or as disciples - and he was even passively aware of how confused this made the elf-vulpinekin hybrid.

Normally Marthox preferred being the one in control and Mister Mlartlar clearly knew this. Miss Delonix-Regia had noticed the change in behavior as well, but it hadn't taken her long before she shrugged it off in a 'none of my business' sort of manner.

But Marthox's conscious thoughts were occupied by one simple question: 'What should I do, now that I'm free?'

The main thing was, of course, to ensure his own survival. But if he could ensure he ended up in an - at least somewhat - advantageous position, then that was naturally preferable.

Right now I'm surrounded by 4 cultists, three of whom I have personally initiated and can therefore let go off at any moment. None of them are good enough at the mind arts to have noticed I'm no longer one of them.

But once or if I release the other three, Miss Delonix-Regia will notice what has happened - there's no way all three can mask it - and she'll turn against us!

She's agile enough that she'll simply dodge any attacks we aim at her, while hitting us with her fancy, high quality arrows. Mister Alvarado might end up the only survivor then, simply due to his own fancy, high quality armor.

But… what if…? What if she's not near enough to notice?

With a - admittedly rough - plan in place, Marthox took back control of the crusade after the other 4 had cleared the second room of the 10th Floor.

"Disciple Delonix-Regia." The muskin demanded the attention of the elf constantly covering her face to hide her identity. Marthox knew The Order planned to use her identity - whatever it might be - to their advantage at some point, but he had yet to be told of their actual plan. Or what her actual identity was.

But identities aside, what made Marthox… cautious of attracting the elf's attention was her high level, gear, and her skills in combat.

Anything else could wait till he was out of the Dungeon and away from the influence of The Order.

"See if you can't solve the puzzle, while the rest of us search the room for any hidden keys." Marthox continued, hiding his… wariness behind a mask of calm and confidence. "The goddess wouldn't have gone to such a length to give us clues about keys, if there weren't any keys to be found."

Miss Delonix-Regia widened her eyes and gave a raised eyebrow as if to say 'Me? Why me?', before struggling and walking over to the door to the next room and its three accompanying colored orbs.

Marthox did his best to hide his relief at her simply obeying him.

To the other three - all whom he had initiated to The Order himself - he signaled to stay silent and follow him - making absolutely sure the Hunter's back was still turned and now focused on the puzzle door. Then he began leading them out of the room and into the previous.

And once that door was closed, he let go of every mental string he had ever made.

As he had made them in the name of The Order, they wouldn't be of any use to him anyway.

They would have obeyed the will of The Order, before they obeyed the will of their Hypnotist.

And if there was one thing Marthox still believed in, it would be that if you need to get something done properly, you need to do it yourself.

Or, you know, use your System-given Skills to make someone else do it exactly how you would have done it.

Not that Marthox intended to do that right now! No. As the process meant winning a mental battle with another during which both were quite visibly frozen in place, any attempt at such would immediately be discovered by the other two.

No. That would have to wait till he could get someone alone, whether that be one of these three or someone else entirely.

But Marthox would one day have his own followers, loyal only to him!

He was sure of that.

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At first Reid Alvarado simply looked confused at the muskin, who had led them back to an already cleared Dungeon room for seemingly no reason. Then a thought struck him: Why am I even in this Dungeon in the first place?

The human Paladin thought back to what had caused him to come to this Dungeon, only to end up even more confused. Why would I care what this 'Order of The Broken Goddess' wants me to do?

Thinking further and further back intill finally, he found his answer: Something had happened to him while he was alone with the bishop in front of him, while his twin delivered a secret message to a baron for her spy examination. Something which had switched his loyalty from his family, Kingdom, and community to a mind controlling cult!

He might still have cared about his people while under said mind control, but they were suddenly second priority to strangers who told him to lose all contact with anyone from 'his past as a heathen'.

Anger swelled in Reid. I haven't seen or heard from my family in years because of this asshole! And I had just reconnected with my sister!

How dare he!

Reid opened his mouth to shout out his anger and had just begun to raise his hand in what was sure to be a mighty slap, when a couple of details struck out to him from his memories: Everyone in the cult was equally devoted to their supposed goddess - though often in different ways and for different reasons. While not a single one of them ever expressed any doubt. And not a single one of them ever questioned the command of an Order superior, even if the request seemed sketchy or suicidal.

They were- are all mind controlled! Or at least the large majority! Even most of the higher ups!

Reid scanned his mind for signs that this bishop had been just as mind controlled as the rest of them and couldn't at first find any.

But then the bishop's most recent behavior came to mind: His sudden stuttering, how he had led them away only for the mind control to disappear as the door closed behind them. It might suggest the muskin had been under a now failed mind control, which let him release everyone else's.

Wait? Why led us away from… Is my memory faulty or was her name Talindra Delonix-Regia?!

…

I really wish Kathrin was here.