Matthias watched as his slimes descended upon the bone golems. It was not even a challenge. The acid slimes grouped up into bunches of five. Four targeted the elbows and knees. The fifth landed in the center of the golem's chest and slowly melted through it. It ended up being so one-sided that Matthias felt bad. It felt like bullying. It only took seconds, not minutes, to disable the golems. They were powerful, but far too slow.

  Once again, his slimes wanted to loot, so he told the acid slimes to move ahead while the other colors stayed behind to feast.

  When his acid slimes reached the dungeon, it was almost exactly what Matthias had been expecting. It was a large crypt complex, with storm clouds slowly circling overhead. Outside the gate were bewildered guild personnel.

  "That is Tom and Sherill," Alycia noted. "Are you going to eliminate that other dungeon? If so, I am going to need to reassign them. They have like six kids, so moving is a hassle for them."

  "Tell them congratulations on having so many kids," Matthias deflected. "How old are their kids?"

  "Youngest is four, I think," Alycia admitted. "Oldest is about twelve and dreams of being an adventurer." She chuckled sadly at that.

  "I know the type," Matthias admitted. A large basket appeared at Alycia's feet. "A present from me to them. Just some stuff to keep their kids distracted."

  Alycia began digging through the basket as Matthias studied the enemy dungeon. Inside the gate were rank after rank of skeletons. They were spaced out, and many held rocks, as though they planned to crush the slimes instead of trying to stab them. They were treating the gate like a funnel. But the crypt did not have a wall. It had a fence—a cast iron fence with widely spaced bars. It looked intimidating and would keep adults out, but it would not even slow down the slimes.

  The slimes diverted from the entrance and entered from every angle but the front.

  "I don't recognize all this," Alycia stated as she looked through the basket. "And these dolls would sell for a mint in the market."

  "They are called plushies," Matthias said. "Meant to be cuddled. As for the other stuff, just a collection of logic puzzles and simple toys. No board games, as it is easy to lose pieces."

  "Plushies?" Alycia asked as she held up the stuffed lion and inspected it.

  So Matthias made a kitsune plushie, a bunny plushie, and a beast goblin plushie and dropped them in her lap. He ensured all three were as cartoonishly exaggerated and cute as he could manage. She looked mildly offended at the kitsune plushie when she picked it up to inspect it.

  "Is this supposed to be me?" she asked.

  "Do you think it is you?" he asked back.

  "The colors are all wrong," she pointed out.

  "So are you upset that it is not you, or not?" Matthias asked. Before she could respond, he knew he had made a mistake. He quickly dropped another kitsune plushie into Sylt's lap—this one matching Alycia's coloration. That short-circuited Alycia's brain into a stuttering mess.

  It was the Arachne baby's cooing and clapping at the screen that made him look back. He idly gave the baby a spider plushie as he returned his attention to the battle. The acid slimes had encircled the enemy dungeon forces and were working their way toward the center.

  That was when Matthias sensed something enter his outermost layer of influence. It was fast, flitting from place to place, but Matthias managed to narrow his focus on it just before it reached his swamp. What emerged from the writhing shadow beneath his gaze looked like a demon made of shadows. Forcing his attention upon it seemed to pin it painfully in place.

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  "That looks like an Envoy," Sylt noted. "Should I?"

  "No," Matthias said coolly as he stared down at the demon. "The Unseelie court is for the celestials. I have the Seelie court for the infernal faction."

  That was when an elven beauty appeared before the demon. She was like a living beam of light trapped in mortal flesh as she lithely strolled toward the shadow demon.

  ---

  Rey had been born for this moment—quite literally, in fact—and she was proud of that. This was her narrative: to be an Envoy in this moment. So she carried herself with fluid grace and impeccable poise. She would not shame her court as firstborn. Rey felt that Sylt was a good firstborn fey, so she needed to be just as impactful.

  "Hail, Envoy," she greeted, curtsying at precise angles and depth. "And how may we attend to you this evening?"

  "Please," the demon gasped. It was pinned, writhing on the ground beneath the sheer weight of Matthias' gaze. "I meant no offense. I am here to deliver a message."

  With a silent communication between Rey and Matthias, the pressure on the inferior thing relented. It slowly picked itself up and dusted itself off.

  "It is rude to attack a messenger," it quipped.

  "Did you not hear?" she asked innocently. "A war is on. To come uninvited is a foolish gamble. Had you announced yourself instead of attempting to sneak in like a thief in the night, you could have enjoyed proper hospitality." She emphasized the last word.

  The demon's eyes narrowed for just a moment. "It seems I may have violated an unposted rule. Is there some elven custom I am unaware of?"

  "I am no mere elf," Rey replied with a chuckle. "I am what is known as a fey—elemental in power, immortal in mind, narrative in spirit, and bound by law."

  "And I thought my kin enjoyed talking in riddles," the demon sighed.

  Rey chuckled again. "Now, speak your message."

  "I am to speak it only before the core," he argued.

  "Do I need to ask my master to increase his focus upon you again?" she asked.

  "Is he too busy directing troops to listen to an Envoy?" the demon shot back.

  "I assure you," Rey promised, "his full attention is upon you now. He is simply entertaining other guests in his chambers—mortal guests."

  "So even as his troops fight, he lets his mind wander?" the demon sneered.

  "How else did he spot you?" Rey asked.

  The demon swallowed hard, finally remembering being pinned to the ground.

  "I am entitled to my master's demands," the demon tried. "I am going to the core room to deliver this message."

  "Thrice I say, and then it is done," Rey replied, heat entering her voice. "Speak your message, Envoy, or depart and never return to darken my master's door again."

  The demon's mouth flapped open and shut several times. His limbs shook—whether from outrage or fear, Rey could not tell. Then something came over him, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

  "It seems this one has failed," an older, more weathered voice said through the demon's mouth. "I humbly apologize for the foolishness of my Envoy. It seems I chose poorly this time."

  Rey bowed once more. "Nefertut, I presume," she said, carefully pronouncing the name.

  A chuckle came from the demon. "That trick of yours is quite the working of magic," he admitted. "It is fascinating. I cannot quite figure it out. There are pieces I am missing. It is quite novel to find that even I can learn something."

  "You are not upset?" she asked skeptically.

  "No, not at all," he promised jovially. "I think you will be a fine addition to this world, fey. I will remember your species. I cannot wait to see what you all do when you begin to expand. Does this dungeon intend to make more new things?"

  "I don't think he could stop if he wanted to," Rey admitted.

  A boisterous laugh came from the being possessing the demon. "Excellent! I abhor stagnation. It is only through change that we truly advance understanding."

  "You are not what my master or I expected from the eldest dungeon," Rey admitted.

  "Being old and grumpy is boring," Nefertut sighed. "Most of my kin become trapped in that role. They see everything as a resource. When you can create and mold anything to your whims…" he trailed off.

  "They lose that spark," Rey finished. "They stop seeking variety and fall back on the comfortable. My dungeon is fond of saying that variety is the spice of life."

  "I am stealing that," Nefertut admitted. "I feel no shame. I knew I was right to order everyone else to leave this place alone."

  Rey raised an eyebrow.

  "Right, my message," Nefertut said. "I ordered my entire faction to leave this dungeon alone. Urgnox violated our code of conduct and was punished. We are not savages. There are ways of dealing with things besides violence. I warned him that if he did not stop abusing his position, the mortals would move on."

  "So you are not opposed to my dungeon dispatching Urgnox?" Rey asked plainly.

  "Do what you must to defend yourself," Nefertut permitted. "Urgnox is a special case. He never grew—mentally stunted, stuck at Rare rarity. There is no potential left in him. Once he is gone, a new dungeon can be born."

  "That answers one of my master's questions," Rey said. "So there is a set number of dungeons. Dungeon wars are simply a way to refresh the roster and cycle in new talent."

  Nefertut grinned. "You are sharp. I will cover for you for now, new dungeon. Grow fast. I cannot stop the tide forever, and only through blood do we cement our places of power."

  With that, the shadow demon's body unraveled and was unmade.