A line of aether spheres floated through the wilderness at tremendous speeds. For the last few hours they had been tracking the invisible trail left by Lord Mandrake’s fleet of air carriers. Initially, the spheres had been high in the sky, but after several goblin squadron encounters, it had been decided for them to be as close to the ground as possible. At some point in the future, Theo was going to invest in an invisibility spell… or hope that his avatar would acquire one, eventually.

“Slightly to the east,” Nauska said.

Being the high-grade assassin she was, she had the means of tracking targets from huge distances. In this case, she was following the location of the items that had been confiscated after her capture. While Lord Mandrake wasn’t particularly interested in the possessions of her workers, he also was smart enough not to allow anything to interfere with the effects of the demon heart. As a gnome, he also had a tendency of snatching any gadgets that caught his fancy. Nauska and her sister, being on the job prior to their capture, had plenty of those hidden among their being, including several delicate “automata spiders” which were like catnip for a gnome.

“It’s close,” she added. “We should see it soon.”

“You’ve been saying that for an hour,” the dungeon’s avatar grumbled. “Are you sure this time?”

“She is,” Flail said, pointing in the distance. “I can see it.”

Winching, the avatar looked in the appropriate direction. Initially, all that was visible was a cluster of storm clouds in the evening sky. Even entities with excellent eyesight weren’t able to see anything more. However, when lightning cracked in the clouds, there could be no doubt that something was there. Instead of shooting down to the sky, the lightning bolt twisted, hitting something in the cloud itself. Upon doing so, its color changed from electric blue to deep purple, as the “something” pulled it in, as if it were a strand of spaghetti.

“Okay.” Theo reduced the speed at which the spheres were moving, then shifted them around so as to form a circle. “Any suggestions how we proceed?” he asked. “The carriers are made of some anti magic material, so I can’t use fire spells on them.”

People started looking at one another through the transparent aether barriers. Up till now, they had viewed Theo as an almost all-powerful wizard. To see him so utterly clueless required some time for readjustment.

In part, it was the dungeon’s fault for that. Due to his unique situation, his avatar had a combination of rookie spells and overpowered abilities with nothing in between.

“We need the carrier whole if we want to actually use it to carry people,” Theo clarified.

The reasoning was logical enough to receive a series of “ahs.”

“The easiest way is to make a hole in the thing,” Wolf said. He had kept more to himself than the others, but based on a few scant comments about skills and life, Theo was convinced that he had been a pirate at some point in his past. “Since it’s driven by a form of magic, it won’t be too much of an issue.”

“As long as we don’t damage the aether source in the process,” Dom the shield-bearer said. “I’ve seen many magnificent magical devices destroyed because of careless recklessness.”

The pirate crossed his arms, but said nothing.

“The idea is good, don’t get me wrong,” the old man continued. “But we must be sure to breach the hull in the right spot. If we don’t, we’ll need to find another ship.”

“Maybe that’s the way we go,” Alksa—a retired war veteran—interjected. “We know there are more than one of them. We experiment with this one and see what happens. If we get it—good. If not, we know what not to do for the next one.”

If Theo’s avatar had the ability to turn pale, it would have. It had already taken them this long to catch up to a carrier. If they missed their chance, it would increase the chase by days, and he really didn’t want the hassle. Of course, there was a chance that there were more than one carriers, but based on Lord Mandrake’s tactics so far, Theo doubted it. Maybe due to its gnome nature, the future ruler of the world had a rather weird strategic thinking. Instead of keeping his force as one solid group, Lord Mandrake had scattered dozens of small groups all over the place. The goblin squadrons, for example, were few in number and had the efficiency of mosquitos on a summer night—noisy, annoying, and providing no particular benefits when killed. Even now, after killing off dozens of them, Theo hadn’t consumed enough to get his avatar to level up.

“We don’t have the luxury of time,” the avatar said. “It’s all good and well for us to come up with the perfect plan, but think of the hundreds that are waiting for us. If we lose this one, who knows when we’ll reach the next? It might be weeks,” he exaggerated. “Can you honestly say that the people depending on us have that long?”

No one said a word. Pleased with the result, Theo did what any good manager would: combine everything that was said in a single proposal, adding just enough trivial, nonsensical details for him to claim as his own.

“Instead of breaching the hull ourselves, we’ll have them do it for us!”

Everyone stared at the avatar, like he had something stuck in his teeth. The trivial detail Theo had chosen to start with had turned out to be so distracting that it was no longer clear what exactly he had in mind.

“I mean, there’s a way for them to get in, right? A sort of entrance, if you will. If we trick them into revealing this entrance, or even better, open it, we can get aboard without risking the carrier itself.”

The silence intensified.

Crap! Theo grumbled. They weren’t falling for it.

“You mean lure them out?” Flail asked.

“Precisely!” Theo clung to the straw given to him. “We lure them out!”

“Hmm, I see.” Dome stroke his chin. “You’re quite the sneaky one, baron. Instead of using force, we’ll use trickery disguised as strength. If a small enough group lands on the surface of the carrier, the enemy would consider it an attempt at sabotage and will send out a strong enough force to deal with the issue. Then, the rest of us could swoop in directly into it and take the fight there.”

“Make the hunted believe she’s the hunter,” Nauska nodded. “We can use the clouds as cover. Three will be enough to make as much noise as possible. The rest will be hidden until the time is right. Baron d’Argent has shown he can move his aether shields at tremendous speed. The moment they reveal their hidden entrance, he’ll get all of us in. From there, we’ll do what we do best.”

“We still have to be careful how we fight, though,” the old man said, shaking a finger. “Things can be destroyed from the inside just as easily as they can be destroyed from the outside.”

“Might also be a good idea to keep some captives,” Wolf spoke up again. “We’ll need them to fly the carrier, or at least teach us now too.”

“That’s easy.” Nauska gave the man a glance of unrivaled superiority. For some reason, the two didn’t seem to get well along. “Baron d’Argent will use his aether bubbles to capture them. They won’t be able to join in the fight, but remain well enough for questioning later.”

“Indeed,” Flail agreed. “Shows why you’re leading us, Baron. Great plan.”

“And not only that. You didn’t want to impose your decisions on us because you knew we’d have second thoughts,” Dom said with a sly smile, as if saying, “I know what you’re doing.” “Now that we’ve come to this conclusion on our own, things are quite different. Magnificent strategic thinking. I definitely wouldn’t want to have you as an enemy.”

“Yeah,” Theo said, as everyone was nodding. “This was what I was thinking all along. Now all we have to do is do it.”

This wasn’t the first time Theo had seen a clueless manager get merit for something done by others. However, it was the first it had happened to him in this life and the past. Not willing to give any of the people a chance to think through what had happened, he put the plan in motion.

All spheres formed a tight cluster as they shot forward in the direction of the target. The speed would have been uncomfortable, possibly unbearable, for ordinary people, but none of the avatar’s present companions were.

Within minutes, the goblin carrier became a speck in the sky, then grew to the point that it could easily be recognized. As Theo had suspected, it was the only one floating on its lonesome. It seemed quite different from the ones that the avatar had faced so far—larger, bulkier, and slightly squarish in shame. Normally, that would be a concern, but at present it made things easier—the initial attackers had less of a chance of falling off.

“Nauska, I’m sending you and your sister to take care of the main attack,” the avatar said. Those were the first names that came to mind. “Think you’ll be alright?”

“We won’t disappoint you, baron.” With a flick of their wrists, a series of hidden knives appeared in the palms of their hands. Without a doubt, the clothes and weapons the dungeon had provided suited them well.

“Perfect.”

Without warning, the aether spheres with the assassins shot up in the direction of the massive carrier.

Meanwhile, the rest sped up along the ground. It wasn’t that the dungeon doubted the assassins’ ability to defeat goblins; it was the exact opposite. He feared that they might do too well, killing off vast numbers of them and depriving him of the monster cores’ experience. The objects were valued quite highly and even people who didn’t have the power to consume them preferred to gather them to sell later.

It’ll be fine, Theo told himself. I got this.

It was all a matter of timing. The moment the assassins got on the top of the carrier, the rest of the aether spheres would fly up into the clouds. There they’d stay for a while—a few minutes at most—before darting into the bowels of the metal beast. Theo’s avatar was going to lead them. Of course, he had to be close enough to control the spheres adequately. It was a tricky process that required a lot of skill, timing, and perfect concentration. A single delay or false movement and—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Someone knocked on the door of Theo’s main body.

“What the heck?” The dungeon grumbled. “I’m in the middle of a very complicated mission!”

This was unacceptable. Theo didn’t like being disturbed at the best of times. Having someone have the audacity to knock now made him want to create a pit beneath the front door and swallow the person up.

“Where’s Cmyk?! I bet it’s one of his no-good friends again!”

Err, your minion is planting seeds in the underground gardens, as you instructed him, Spok said.

“I know where he is!” the dungeon snapped. “I meant what’s taking him so long! Clearly, they aren’t here to see me. I’m not in Rosewind!”

Of course you aren’t.

“You know what I mean! Anyway, Cmyk, get the door! You can get back to planting later!”

Underground, the minion sighed. Cmyk enjoyed work as much as his creator did—which was to say none at all. Strangely enough, gardening seemed to be a notable exception. There seemed to be a certain charm to doing repetitive actions with an immediate result. In a way, it was close to gold spinning—another activity that Cmyk had gotten into the habit of doing every morning. Spinning meant gold, which equated to better drinks, a better time in the taverns, not to mention better items. The latter the minion had to cut back after a few stern words from Theo on the topic of over-cluttering.

“Now, Cmyk!” the dungeon urged, as the knocking started once more.

Taking one look at the neat rows of sprouts, the minion diligently placed his gardening tools in the corner of the underground chamber, then started his trip to the floors above.

It took him close to half a minute to reach the door. Once there, Cmyk wiped his hands in his work apron and opened the door.

The person outside was the familiar tax collector that had come to visit the first day of Theo’s arrival in Rosewind. Upon seeing him, both minion and dungeon thought the same thing: “Oh crap.”

“Ah, good evening,” the tax collector said with a large smile. “My apologies for the late visit. I trust you aren’t doing anything important?”

No, nothing important, Theo thought. Just organizing twelve people to capture a large goblin carrier in the middle of a thunderstorm.

“Might I come in?” he asked.

Unable to talk, Cmyk moved to the side. Still intimidated by the minion’s massive frame, the man slid into the house. Theo felt a sense of dread. Right now, he would have preferred a dozen heroes with flaming swords to a single tax collector.

“Quite a nice place,” the man said, looking around. “I understand why the thieves took a liking to it. Good thing that the baron is a spell caster, right?” he laughed in the way people who attempted to get on others’ good side did. Naturally, Cmyk remained unshaken and stoic as a statue. “Well, I’m here on the matter of registration. You remember our previous conversation, I hope?”

“The documents,” Theo whispered to his minion. “Bring the documents from the study.”

“Excuse me?” The tax collector looked around. There was no one there. “Did you say something?” He looked at Cmyk.

The minion looked back.

“I must have misheard. In any event, I’d appreciate if—”

Before he could finish, the minion extended his right arm, gesturing to the man to enter the living room—the door to which the dungeon had conveniently opened during the conversation so far.

“Ehh, I really don’t want to impose,” the tax collector began. “But since you’re offering.” He quickly walked in, not giving Cmyk even the chance to respond. “Do you have anything to drink, by chance?”

That greedy, good for nothing leech, Theo grumbled to himself. Despite that, he made sure to summon a carafe of brandy in the living room. There was a moment in which he considered adding a mild poison or strong laxative, but decided against it. The only thing worse than having a tax collector inside was having an ill tax collector there.

“Never mind, found it!” the man shouted as Cmyk begrudgingly made his way up the stairs.

“Spok, we must do something!” Theo said in semi-panic. “There’s no way Cmyk can pull this off.”

You do have the energy to create another minion, sir, the spirit guide reminded.

“Are you kidding? What the hell will I do with two Cmyks? You handle it!”

Me, sir? Suddenly the spirit guide felt the strange sudden need to sit down. I… I’m just a spirit guide—a sprite, a ghost, a discorporate entity. By definition, I’m not supposed to—

“I have the skill to make you an avatar, right?”

Well, yes, but it’s never been done. This goes against eons of tradition. It’s just not done. You’ve already given me a lot more than I can hope for. Having a body…

Theo took a deep breath, causing the curtains on the upper floors to flow towards the center of their respective rooms.

“Is there anything preventing you from obtaining a body?”

No, but—

“Are you subject to any restrictions if you were to obtain said body?”

I wouldn’t be able to leave the building. Unlike the common minions, I am linked to your physical presence, but not part of it. Anything beyond the limits of your domain is out of bounds.

“Good enough! Now make yourself a body and deal with the problem at hand.”

For Theo, this was just another annoying triviality. For Spok, however, this was a world-shattering event of epic proportions. Throughout all of existence, there had been various types of dungeons: cruel, aggressive, calm, secluded, even a few benevolent. However, none of them were anything quite like Theo. There were certain aspects of being human that just couldn’t be learned or mimicked. Unlike all the rest, Theo had retained all the knowledge from his previous life, and it showed. As grumbly and chaotic as he was, he still treated his minions as equal beings of lower standing, not just puppets bound to his will; he had granted them partial autonomy.

Threads of multicolored light appeared within the dungeon’s study. Combining together, they formed a nucleus, which then stretched into a humanoid shape. A bright flash followed, leaking through the window shutters and the bottom of the room’s door. When it was gone, the figure of Spok was in the room… and it was not at all what Theo had expected.

“Err…” the dungeon said. “You made a female avatar?”

“Was I not allowed?” Spok asked, her voice soft and clear, almost flowing.

“No, it’s just. I didn’t know there were female spirits.”

“Spirits aren’t male or female. We just are. This is what I felt I was, and this is what I became.”

There was nothing left to say. There was no telling where the spirit guide had obtained the image of the avatar it had created, but it had done an outstanding job, putting all previous efforts with Cmyk and the dungeon’s own avatar to shame. Standing six feet tall with porcelain white skin and long raven-black hair tied wrapped in a bun, Spok wore a dress that would feel at home in a Jane Eyre novel. A long sleeve shirt of flawless wide stood out against the deep blue of the long skirt and elegant work vest. Embodied in gold thread, the dungeon’s house of arms was visible on the right side of the vest, displayed with pride.

Creating a large mirror in front of her, Spok turned around, adjusted her hair to go one step beyond perfection, then put on a pair of while silk gloves and took the land deed and magic permit from the wall. Then, in the brisk pace of someone who knew what she was going, she left the room and headed downstairs.

“I have things under control, Cmyk,” she said as she passed by the minion, who was slowly making his way to the study. Mildly surprised by the presence of another avatar, Cmyk then shrugged and started his way back down.

By the time Spok reached the first floor living room, the tax collector had already managed to finish three cups of brandy and was on his way to gulp down a third. Upon meeting Spok’s glance, though, he suddenly felt like a child who’d been caught stealing cookies in the kitchen.

“Good evening to you, sir,” Spok said in a firm voice. “I see you’re enjoying the baron’s prized brandy?”

The tax collector looked down at his half empty glass, then back at Spok.

“Err… good mor… evening!” he quickly corrected himself, placing the glass on the nearest solid surface and standing in front, in an effort to hide his sin. “Good evening, I meant. I was just—”

“I am Spok d’Esprit, the steward of Baron D’Argent’s estates. I believe you’ve come regarding the permits you requested a week ago?”

“Erm…” If the man had a plan of action, it was not completely torn to shreds by the woman’s assertiveness. “Yes, yes, ma’am.” He stared blankly into the distance. “Err, no!” His mind slowly caught up to what was going on. “Actually, I’m here to inform the Baron d’Argent that the matter has been resolved.”

“Resolved?” Spok asked as she carefully placed the land deed and house permit on the table.

“Yes, resolved.”

Sweating profusely, the man grabbed the satchel hanging from his shoulder and started burrowing within. Moments later, he took out a rather plainly looking piece of parchment and handed it to the woman.

The parchment was quite large, containing several seals in the corner, including Earl Rosewind’s personal seal of authority. However, with the exception of that, the only other thing present was the name “Theodor d’Argent” written at the very top.

“The baron’s family tree,” the tax collector announced.

Retaining her composure, Spok looked at the parchment again, let out a hmm of disapproval, then rolled the family tree up.

“This is a blank piece of paper,” she said.

“That’s because it’s the start of the family tree,” the man said defensively. “As the baron’s family increases, more and more branches would be added. When the space runs out, an additional parchment could be obtained, for a nominal fee.”

“Doesn’t look like that will happen anytime soon.”

“All that remains is the extremely minor matter of a birth certificate. Normally that’s required, but due to the earl’s personal interest, everything’s dealt with. All that’s left is merely to know the Baron’s exact date of birth, so things are…” there was a slight pause. “Made proper.”

That was unexpectedly good news, for once. As long as Theo presented himself to be of reasonable age, he’d never have to deal with this annoying leech again.

“Say I’m thirty,” the dungeon whispered in the study.

Are you sure, sir? Spok asked. That might be a bit…

The screeching of doors indicated that was Theo’s final decision. As such, Spok had no choice but to go with it.

“The twelfth of the seven month,” she said. “Seven hundred and eleven.”

“Err…” the tax collector blinked, then went through his satchel again for an empty piece of paper and a piece of coal. “Can you say that again.”

“The twelfth of the seven month, seven hundred and eleven,” the woman repeated. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

“Actually…” the man began. Seeing Spok’s glance harden, however, was enough to make him contemplate the choices he’d made in his life. The baron seemed like a quite agreeable fellow, but his champion and steward were both terrifying beyond measure. “No, that’s all that’s required.”

“Good. In that case, I wish you a good day.”

“Yes, of course.”

The man did something between a nod and a bow, then rushed past her, heading for the exit. Doing so, he almost bumped into Cmyk, who was on his way to the underground gardens. It was pure luck that prevented a serious collision. The narrow escape made the tax collector hurry even more, practically running to get outside. Once he did, Theo slammed the door shut behind him.

“That’s at least one nuisance dealt with,” the dungeon said. “What do I do with the family tree thing?”

“You keep it,” Spok said as she picked up the deed and permit—things that the tax collector hadn’t even bothered to glance at. “It serves no purpose whatsoever, at least in the near future. In a few decades, you might start thinking about how to create the appearance of having a family, but until then, the document is best kept in the bottom of a drawer.”

“Okay, you deal with it, Spok. I have to focus on something else.”

“And what might that be, sir?” the spirit guide asked. Her new body made the question seem a lot more reproachful than it was.

“Oh, nothing much. Just trying to get twelve people into a flying goblin carrier after being struck by lightning. Nothing nearly as annoying as dealing with the leech just now.”

“I wish you the best of luck, sir. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go make my own room on the top floor. Please try not to be too reckless with your energy usage.”