Chapter 78

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Chapter 78: Accidence

For Tasha, this was a bountiful season.

Crowds poured in from all corners of Aryan, like animals emerging from the forest after an earthquake. Many people flooded into Tasmanian, although most of them didn’t have much non-human blood. In fact, after The Day of Red Rain, the distinctions between "humans" and "Hybrids" became less clear, as almost everyone was of mixed heritage.

Human lineage is more like a dominant gene rather than a dominant trait, it doesn’t overpower other parts. In terms of racial classification, Craftsman Dwarfs might be called "XX% human, XX% dwarf, XX% gnome, XX% Hobbit hybrid descendants". The specific composition of each Craftsman Dwarf varies, which makes it complicated to list. Therefore, for simplicity, let’s refer to those with noticeable non-human traits as hybrids, and those who appear human as humans.

"Do we… have to join the army?" a very tall man asked cautiously.

"Of course not!" the staff replied.

In a card game scenario, the arrival of hybrids would mean new troops, but in real life, the actual combat-ready troops were scarce. They were not warriors, but rather merchants, craftsmen, laborers, apprentices… refugees seeking refuge and peace away from their homeland. These weary visitors didn’t want to end up in prison or on the battlefield; they just wanted a place to stay.

It’s not like Tasha would let them go easily.

Every group of newcomers will attend the "Tasmanian New Resident Lecture", where staff will explain all the important things to know about living in Tasmania, focusing on basic rules like "no breaking the law". Although it seems like a routine lecture, it carries great significance. After the lecture, everyone must sign an agreement letter, promising to be law-abiding residents.

This is not an agreement to be signed lightly.

The agreement letter is full of tiny, hard-to-read words, similar to a product upgrade agreement. Most people don’t bother to read it carefully. The demonic pact blends in with the rest of the text, and by signing it, a person is essentially giving themselves over to Tasha.

The process of the demonic pact goes like this: both parties must agree on the conditions of give and take, with full knowledge and confirmation from both sides, no lying, and then sign the contract for the deal to be done. The lecture had already explained the conditions clearly to everyone, and they are reiterated in the agreement letter (party A to follow the rules, work diligently, obey orders in the dungeon, party B to provide shelter and financial support). The preliminary conditions have been met, making this contract fair and not deceitful.

Victor praised Tasha for the agreement, but his self-praise only earned Tasha’s disdain. Victor mentioned signing a group of templars previously, a complex matter summed up simply as committing fraud with a "demonic pact" in the final page of a delivery receipt.

This event directly led to the ancient Aryan delivery industry being choked off in its infancy, demons can be quite cunning.

Around a few dozen people refused to sign the pact. The spellcasters singled them out and had conversations with Tasha, eventually agreeing to a basic non-harming agreement. During this time, Tasha encountered the most witches and wizards since arriving in Aryan, some of them seemed to step out of a fantasy book, while others looked like regular gardeners.

It’s the season of great harvest.

In the palace of thoughts, new character cards kept increasing. Various skills filled the brain’s list longer and longer, and the complex cards spread out on the table one by one, giving Tasha a sense of achievement like collecting stamps. The sudden increase went on for a few days, until all the empty spaces on the table were filled with cards. Just when Tasha thought there would be new places to put them, all the cards suddenly floated up.

The lights flickered, the cards gradually dimmed, and their faces abruptly went out along with the firelight in the palace.

The palace of thoughts began to shake as if it had encountered an indoor typhoon. Unlike the tsunami-like wave of unlocking information in the past, the current shaking of the sea of divine sense had no direction, making it impossible to resist, only feeling dizzy. The dragon-winged body vigilantly looked up at the dungeon’s ceiling, where everything seemed peaceful, but at that moment, the dungeon’s core suddenly short-circuited. The all-knowing perspective in the dungeon suddenly went out.

The dungeon couldn’t see, hear, or feel anything, like a locked, narrow, and broken Dungeon Core of all beginnings. Tasha felt like she was caught in a whirlwind, spinning in the same place repeatedly, unable to escape.

"Warning… Incomplete dungeon-Tasha, covenant unit exceeded… Rustling… Current magic sufficient, proceed with merging and restructuring?"

Tasha heard the intermittent warnings.

She desperately tried to hear clearly what it was, but the vaguely worded phrase sounded like poor reception and had already finished on its own, with no repetition. The "system panel" that Tasha had adjusted was as dim as the character cards, like a dead button that gave no response regardless of which one was pressed. The connection between the dragon-winged body and the dungeon core had not been severed, yet Tasha could not sense any covenanters or any structures in the dungeon, this sudden loss of control chilled her heart.

For the first time, Tasha experienced the disadvantages of an incomplete core.

It was too late to regret, as in her consciousness link, only Ahuang remained, or more precisely, the fragment of the Dungeon Core that had separated onto this gnome. This fellow sniffled cluelessly, trotting beside Tasha as she passed by.

Tasha suddenly stopped, Ahuang bumped into her leg, unconcerned, circled around her, and crouched in place, frightened by the grim look on his master’s face.

Tasha stood under the light in the dungeon, staring blankly into the distant darkness – she never thought she would also have a day where she found the dungeon dark and deep. She realized she couldn’t go to the Magic Pool, partly because she couldn’t summon the gnome temporarily, and partly because the Book of Dungeons was there.

If Tasha had to command Ahuang to dig in to speak to Victor face-to-face, before any formalities began, he would immediately sense that something had happened. Was the current contract just temporarily inactive, or had it lost its effect altogether? If it was the latter…

Tasha was conscious of commanding a fierce tiger.

It’s more accurate to say that initially having the upper hand by signing a master-servant contract with Victor took full advantage of being the dungeon host. Even though Victor seemed cute, even though she sometimes treated him like a fool, as her understanding deepened, Tasha was very aware of how dangerous he could be when given the opportunity. A snake with its fangs removed is cute, a tiger locked in a cage is cute, a dinosaur in an electric net is cute, a demon bound by a contract is cute. With the current conditions no longer present, emotions were suddenly suppressed, and cold reason took over.

There could be no further delays.

"Proceed with the merge and reorganize?"

Tasha chose "yes".

The lights in the sea of divine sense lit up one by one.

The dungeon returned under Tasha’s control, the buildings and creatures within it restored, the indoor storm slowly subsided. Her mental palace remained tidy and bright. She sat at the long table, just like before the lights went out. But not quite. Tasha lowered her head to find only one card on the table.

Except for the dungeon card, all other cards were gone.

A large part of the mental palace remained dark, inaccessible. It was like a circuit breaker tripping after too much current flowed through. Now, it was as if shutting off some circuits to keep the central part running. She could feel a faint connection to the covenanters, confirming the existence of those contracts. But all the cards were missing, with no humorous descriptions or added skills. The dragon-winged body silently chanted "Calling Full Moon," but there was no response.

All the systematic and game-like conveniences brought by the contracts seemed to have vanished.

Perhaps not gone, just beyond her perception. A significant portion of her magical reserves had disappeared. Tasha sensed a large part of her sea of divine sense had been occupied, like noticing a slow computer suddenly loading files in the background.

Tasha picked up the only remaining card, the dungeon card now had only a very short line of instructions.

[Incomplete dungeon-Tasha]

Merging and reorganizing, Progress: ???

"Victor?" Tasha spoke through the connection.

Soon after, a response came quickly from the link to the Book of Dungeons, sounding completely normal as if unaware of the recent disturbance.

Tasha asked several other covenanters at the same time, and they also had no idea what had just happened.

"If the Dungeon Core is not complete, will there be limitations on the signed contract?" Tasha asked Victor.

"Who knows, I’ve never raised a dungeon," Victor said. "There may be? To be honest, your shabby dungeon reaching this level already deserves to be studied as a special case."

"Can’t a ‘shabby dungeon’ expand?"

"With the core shattered like this, there is no precedent for revival," Victor shrugged his shoulders.

"Give me some advice on what just happened," Tasha requested for the last time.

"What happened?" Victor asked blankly, "Is there a problem with the contract?"

"Yes," Tasha sighed, changing the subject, "Although this new batch of contracts is large in number, most of them are non-combatants."

There was no precedent, so asking Victor was pointless. Unfortunately, Victor didn’t know anything. Fortunately, Victor didn’t know anything. Now that the die is cast, all that could be done was to focus on gathering the Dungeon Core and wait.

Tasmanian had settled down, with established buildings and army units, and Tasha was not helpless without her skills. The skills she had acquired in the past were no longer indispensable, and the new skills she obtained had not been integrated into the dungeon system yet. It was better to lose the wood before it was heated than to have the house beams stolen after construction. Even if this state was maintained forever, it was just a decoration without substance.

Losing magic power was even more heartbreaking, but at present, the situation in the empire was even more chaotic than Tasha’s.

Upon closer inspection, Tasha discovered that the souls of the monsters she had devoured before had completely disappeared along with the magic power. It had not been fully digested, maintaining a semi-melted state, like a hairball stuck in a cat’s throat – it was quite disgusting to think about what it used to be. Its disappearance was probably the only good news in this incident.

Wishing for more was futile.

Let’s turn this page for now.

At this moment, new migrants were on their way to Tasmanian, filled with fear and hope. The barriers at the empire’s borders were becoming stricter, but the methods of crossing them were also becoming more diverse. People who wanted a better and safer life would always find a way, especially with the vast border between Tasmanian and other parts of the Aryan Empire, not as easily isolated as the southeast corner once was.

Along the long border, people with wandering thoughts gazed into the distance.

At this moment, the new residents of Tasmarin nervously carried their belongings, studied the local regulations, registered, obtained temporary accommodation, and then got to know their new neighbors. Some of them had been lonely for too long and couldn’t help but open up to people who smiled friendly. Others had been fearful for too long, even when they saw similar "outsiders" walking in the sunlight, they still chose to shut their doors and windows tightly, placing their packed belongings in the easiest escape route.

It’s okay, whether they are too loud and cheerful or too cold and distant, they will stay, they will get used to it, they are safe.

At this moment, the indigenous people of Tasmanian are busy. Besides weapons, the Craftsman Dwarfs who are skilled at making furniture are busy again. The enthusiastic Tack, who loves pillows, has started a bedding company. General Halite’s army, just like the Amazonians, are good at patrolling and maintaining order. The new recruits are doing well, but some newcomers get distracted when the dragon riders fly overhead.

During this wave of migration, people from all walks of life are busy and earning a good income. Only occasionally, when they have a chance to relax, they are surprised to think, when did they get used to dealing with "Hybrids"?

When you look at such a vast area, at so many people, your own worries become insignificant.

"So why do you want to keep so many useless people?" Victor asked, "For the so-called ‘cheap labor’? I thought those prisoners of war were enough for you."

"No, although they can also be cheap labor in the short term… but there’s a big difference between the two," Tasha replied.

Before those captured empire soldiers could realize the situation, they were just cheap labor, the most worn-out parts in the massive machine Tasha controlled. If they couldn’t change their mindset and let go of outdated ideas like "humans first", they would work until they died – of course, they wouldn’t be mistreated, Tasha would take care of them like maintaining parts, providing enough nutrition and rest until she squeezed out their last bit of value.

And now, these refugees who come to Tasmanian will be the future "cornerstones."

The influence of the dungeon is expanding again, from a base that could be wiped out at any moment to a territory, Tasha is transforming herself from a local bandit to a local lord. She has risen from hiding, and compared to the time spent lurking, it will take more time and effort to establish herself firmly. Standing as a minority in this land, surrounded by enemies, death is certain, at least nearby, they have to integrate with the majority.

That’s how the red rain came about.

Tasha believed that people would one day see racial differences like leaves on a branch, but for now, she needed more members who identified with different races.

If she couldn’t get rid of fixed racial concepts right away, she would use them to her advantage. Tasha believed that as long as she didn’t make mistakes like the others, they would be natural allies in the dungeon.

"Hasn’t the Abyss invaded the Primary Material Plane on a large scale more than once?" Tasha asked.

"Yes, the surface creatures call it ‘Decaying Disaster,’ and I’ve been involved in a few," Victor replied, reminiscing.

"As a soldier?"

"As a commander!" Victor said proudly, "After the first Decaying Disaster, I became a great demon."

Victor vaguely described the growth of a great demon from an Abyssal Demon Seed to the top of the Abyssal Demon hierarchy, a long and brutal journey. Tasha was puzzled by Victor’s abilities, wondering why someone like him would be causing trouble in the dungeon expansion.

"Tasha questioned Victor about their similar actions of overturning the dominance of the ruling group and establishing a new regime as minorities. She couldn’t understand why he seemed to disapprove of her actions."

Victor was surprised for a moment, then burst into laughter.

He laughed for quite a while, laughing so hard that the pages of the book slapped against the stone table, as if Tasha had said something silly. He said, "How did you figure out what we were doing?"

"Demons are like tempters, leading creatures from the Primary Material Plane astray, making them lean towards the abyss," Tasha reminded.

"No no no, you’ve got it wrong," Victor chuckled, "During the time of the Decaying Disaster, demons indeed did that to strengthen themselves, or just for fun, to hunt for food. But when full-scale war begins, who has the time to do that in already occupied territories?"

Demon contracts and deceits are quite intricate, yet their wars are very simple and brutal. Once a region falls into the abyss’s grasp, all living beings in that region have only one fate.

To be consumed.

Rebel? Be consumed. The most valiant warriors will become nourishment for the abyss the next day. Surrender? It’s fine, be consumed too. Demons don’t care whether you fervently devote yourself to the abyss or play mind games; nothing is more convenient and effective than being turned into nourishment. They will be consumed, transformed, and produce degraded replica armies, or become mindless puppets, materials for the abyss Magic Demons to create various monsters. The devouring function of a dungeon isn’t just a makeshift strategy as an outpost; it is a microcosm of the abyss style.

"Won’t such an abyss become a common enemy of the world?" Tasha asked, "Wouldn’t anyone who doesn’t want to die choose the Heavenly Realm?"

"The weak will undoubtedly perish, but not the strong. We still make contracts with the strong, those who willingly join will be linked to the abyss, gaining greater power, longevity, and the power to switch sides – the allure of the latter goes beyond your imagination."

The pages of the Book of Dungeons settled down gently and unfolded like a gentleman straightening his collar.

"Imagine this," Victor’s tone was calm and playful, "you are in a hopeless war, struggling every day as your comrades die in battle. Their bodies either get eaten or reappear on the battlefield the next day, standing opposite you. You can’t see the future, surrounded by numb people. Ironically, ‘hope’ seems to be in the abyss, while the monsters across from you are lively every day. When no matter how hard you try, lambs still die, the exhausted sheepdogs begin to doubt the meaning of fighting, and when they start to doubt and fear… with just a little push, bang! They realize that being a wolf is much happier than being a sheepdog."

"But aren’t the strong always a minority?" Tasha said.

"Indeed," Victor nodded, "but here lacks standards, it depends on how the high-level demons think. Powerful beings are not simply used as corpses, the Abyssal Magic Demon can almost completely transform Professionals into monsters, although the success rate is not high. This ‘transformation’ and ‘Abyssal connection’ sometimes are hard to distinguish, entities influenced by the Abyss become more bloodthirsty. So, people think there are more ‘strong ones plunging into the Abyss’ than there actually are, making everyone believe they could be the next lucky one to be seen differently, creating fierce competition among traitors."

Victor paused and continued, "Even if one is truly enticed by the Abyss, the connection with the Abyss is never as close as ours, the natives. Demons are the darlings of the Abyss, we are naturally favored by the Abyss, and the countless killings from Demon Seed to Great Demon pleases the Abyss. The Abyssal Will resonates in our souls, the power of the Abyss resonates with us, something other beings cannot achieve. Do you still think we are pitiful?"

Like the divine beings in the Heavenly Realm, the demon lineage in the Abyss can be considered the favored ones of the plane. Tasha experienced the feeling of being favored by the Will of Nature, the power was immense, making everything around feel friendly. Similarly, if faced with the more domineering Abyssal Will, the feeling of the world opening doors for you would be as satisfying as wearing a protagonist’s halo.

"Still pitiful," Tasha said, "not free."

"What? Listen to this, someone says the chaotic products of the Abyssal planes are not free!" Victor said incredulously, laughing, "The Abyssal army has no organization, the only rule is power, the pressure from high-level Abyssal creatures is the only reason for unified attacks. We have no boring principles, we never need excuses, we don’t have to obey anyone, as long as you can save your own life from stronger beings, you can ignore anyone’s orders. If this isn’t freedom, what does that make the rule-following bird people of the Heavenly Realm?"

"If all demons have to endure endless cravings for killing and devouring, like the feeling I sensed from your soul…" Tasha said, "then you seem no different from those Abyssal puppets, just slightly higher-level slaves."

"So, if what you say is true, humans are slaves to desire. Who is free?" Victor argued.

"But people can choose," Tasha said. "Choose the Heavenly Realm, choose the Abyss, choose nature, or choose to live life aimlessly."

This is the reason why Tasha likes humans.

Humans are neither angels nor demons, they can choose between good and evil. Endless paths lead to endless possibilities, with various races like the current Aryan, different groups, and Tasha herself, all choosing the direction of their future.

Victor fell silent, and after a while he hummed. "Maybe," he unexpectedly admitted, "So, compared to staying in my hometown, I prefer Aryan."

Tasha smiled.

The comfortable silence lasted for a while, until a sudden thought arose.

"When did I ever say you were pitiful?" she asked abruptly.

Victor remembered the trick he had left in his soul, guessing what "the other him" would do, but he had no idea what "he" had actually done, what had happened between "him" and Tasha.

But Tasha only said the word "poor" to that one Victor.

Long silence.

"I… I can’t remember?" Victor said, puzzled and shocked. "I don’t recall."

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