Commander Donald in his rage gripped his sword and stepped through the chaos of the men trying to kill each other. 

 

A few of the possessed men tried to swing their weapons and Donald but the white aura that protected him made  their attacks look more like a pat on the shoulder. 

 

Donald walked up to the fungus and placed his hand on the plant. 

 

“Be gone!”

 

Donald only whispered two words but the white aura around danced in an unprecedented manner. The energy danced and cackled around Donald like bolts of electricity. 

The fungus despite its size was instantly covered in a wave of dancing white electrical arches. 

 

The air was humming at the intensity of the electricity in the air until a bright light flashed and only the smell of burnt plants remained. 

 

In a split second the fungus was burnt from existence. 

 

The men that were busy attacking like wild beasts fell to the ground lifelessly while those that were being attacked were taken by surprise by the end of the onslaught. 

 

“Follow me!”

 

Commander Donald took the troops from their dismay and led them to the lower floors. 

 

The army was a little taken aback. Up until now commander Donald had led them by a more laissez faire kind of leadership. He had let the army do as it pleased to deal with the dungeon. 

 

But now he was leading from the front without even the captain by his side. It showed that he no longer took this as a common practice but a serious battle. 

 

For the commander at his age to take the helms of the battle really showed how serious he had gotten. 

 

Beyond the doorway was the lower floors, floors 10-20. Unlike the previous floors that were a giant forest and jungle these floors actually looked like a cave system. 

 

After looking at the giant space in the cavern and inspecting it closely for traps himself the commander looked at the exhausted and traumatized troops behind him. 

 

The commander looked at Cassandra and gave a conceding nod. 

 

“Dig in! We are resting here for the next five hours!”

 

Cassandra shouted the orders and feeling almost like the burden of the entire day had left their shoulders the army fell to the floor. 

 

“Oii section leaders establish a guard detail! We won't be caught by surprise this time!”

 It had to be noted that up to this point the army was far worse than exhausted. Since the moment they entered the dungeon they have been tormented by a slow crawl through each floor. 

 

Mentally the army was drained. They had spent last night worrying they would die in their sleep only to spend the day worrying they would be brainwashed and then killed. 

 

If their minds had a mental battery they would be at about twenty percent at this point. 

 

-

 

A week before the invasion of the dungeon. 

 

“Guildmaster, are you saying my daughter Cassandra isn’t competent enough to deal with a dungeon?

 

Are you aware that we’ve already gathered one hundred and fifty men?”

 

The guildmaster shirked under the words of the viscount. 

 

“Sir, there are quite a few things we do not know about this dungeon yet. 

 

I am only suggesting you have someone look over her, should any issues arise.”

 

The viscount sat on his sofa drinking a cup of wine as he listened to the guildmaster. 

 

Ordinarily he wouldn’t pay the guildmaster much attention but now that he was only two weeks away from his retirement he questioned why the guildmaster would suggest such a thing. 

 

Viscount Lander had long since known the guildmaster and knew he wasn’t an idle man. If he came all the way here to warn him there might be more to the dungeon than meets the eye. 

 

But he couldn’t wrap his brain around it. A gold rank dungeon Boss wasn’t considered much of a threat in the grand scheme of things, in fact he was more of an ant when compared to the higher tier creatures. 

 

Sure in this little backland of territory it might seem as some great beast but among anyone born in the cities or great kingdom he would be considered cannon fodder. 

 

The viscount got up and looked at the portrait of his daughter that hung on the walls of his mansion and fell into deep contemplation. 

 

His daughter, Cassandra, wasn’t by any means a talented lady but she had been raised in the cities her entire life and her combat standards compared to the average fighter here were leagues above them. 

 

“But the guildmaster truly did have a sincere look…”

 

Viscount decided to swallow his pride and accept the warnings of the old guildmaster.

 

Before long he had abruptly summoned Commander Donald to his mansion. 

 

Commander Donald was a little taken aback by the request. 

 

“You want me to take over the raid? But it is just a gold dungeon. 

 

I’ve taken down stronger dungeons by myself, this is leagues below my rank.”

 

It had to be understood that as a commander ordering a three section army was below his privileges. At his current rank he was used to having at least three hundred men below his command with three captains by his side.

Donald had a perplexed expression.

 

Viscount Lander understood the reservation but he felt he had to put it into perspective. 

 

“This isn’t a battle. It’s a training exercise.”

 

Viscount Lander tried to explain. 

 

“You want me to train your army?”

 

Commander Donald was a little confused. 

 

“Oh, heavens no. This is a training exercise for my daughter. I couldn’t care less about those pesky foot soldiers.”

 

Hearing these words remind Donald why he always hated politics and stuck to the battlefield. 

 

“Listen, I want my daughter to come back stronger and it’s your job to make sure of that.”

 

“And what about the men?”

 

Donald asked with a hint of disdain. 

 

“Just don’t let me look bad. Do with and treat them as you please. If by some miracle they come back stronger that would be fairly decent as well.”

 

Viscount Lander waved his hand in a nonchalant manner. 

 

“Yes Sir!”

 

Donald was only a knight and despite the fact that he was years older than the viscount the disparity in standings would leave his head rolling if he ever spoke what was on his mind. 

 

Donald clenched his fist and swallowed his retort before leaving. 

 

“Nobles are always trying to play with the lives of commoners like they are just numbers.”

 

Donald punched a statue blowing it into smithereens.

 

“At Least now that I am in charge I can make sure most of them come back safely to their wives and children. 

 

Heaven only knows what that youngling of a woman would cause to befall the men should she have been the only voice of leadership. 

 

At Least under my command I can make sure they come back in one piece.”

 

Sir Donald smiled, feeling that the gods were favoring the scruffy little army to put him in charge.