Point of View: Tharok
The atmosphere was tense.
I could feel it in the air… heavy, suffocating.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing… and yet, I understood it.
We had reacted the same way at first.
But it was the truth.
The dungeons… were disappearing.
After a few moments of silence, my father spoke again.
"There's something that doesn't add up in what you're saying," his voice was firm, but sharper than usual. "Even if two dungeons disappeared… how is it possible that we're having economic problems? We still have others."
Marek looked at me.
It was my turn.
I took a deep breath before answering.
"Actually…" I hesitated for a second, "the amount of resources we've been getting from dungeons has been decreasing for a while now. It's been gradual."
My father frowned.
"Decreasing?"
I nodded.
"Every time we cleared a dungeon… when the portal reappeared, the resources were lower than before."
A brief silence followed.
Marek stepped in.
"At first, we thought someone was stealing from us," he explained. "That we just weren't noticing it. But when we asked other tribes in the alliance for help… we found out they were experiencing the same thing."
I continued.
"I confirmed it during my travels across other continents. It's not just happening here… it's happening throughout the entire main plane."
Some of those present clenched their jaws.
"Dungeons no longer produce the same amount," I went on. "And in many tribes… they've simply disappeared. Three, four… even more."
This time, there was clear concern in my father's voice.
"Then… will they all disappear?"
I slowly shook my head.
"That's what we thought at first. But after a few months, the phenomenon stabilized. Some disappeared… but not all."
My father let out a breath, visibly relieved.
"That's… better. Much better…"
But it didn't take long for him to tense up again.
"How bad is our situation, then?"
Marek answered honestly.
"With what we get now… we can cover the tribe's basic needs. The problem is resources for cultivation… and for future conquests."
My father clenched his fists.
He understood.
But there was more.
"Father… there's something else you need to know," I added.
He looked at me immediately.
"The rulers of the plane… haven't withdrawn their main forces from their conquests."
His expression changed.
"They haven't?" he asked, confused. "Then… how are they defending their cities?"
This time, even I couldn't hide my amazement.
"They are defending them," I replied. "And from what I've heard… the world they're trying to conquer isn't level one."
His eyes widened.
"They're trying to conquer a level two world…?"
I nodded.
"Yes…" I admitted. "It's impressive. Their power… is on a completely different scale."
Marek lowered his gaze, resigned.
"When that information spread… their influence only grew even more."
My father's face darkened.
"So… even if we conquer another level one world… we still won't catch up to them."
"I'm afraid not," I replied.
A heavy silence fell.
But I wasn't done.
"However… they're not doing well either," I added.
My father looked at me with interest.
"Explain."
I felt all eyes on me.
"I noticed this during my travels," I began. "I helped several tribes relocate. They lived near the rulers' cities… and wanted to avoid getting caught in the conflict with the abominations."
I paused briefly before continuing.
"I heard many conversations… and they all had one thing in common."
My voice grew more serious.
"The rulers aren't clearing their dungeons on time."
Some frowned.
My father narrowed his eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"Some… are only cleared one or two days before overflow."
Silence fell instantly.
"That's not normal," someone muttered.
"It's not," I replied. "But it makes sense. Their forces are occupied… they don't have enough manpower to cover everything."
My father was staring at me now.
Too intently.
"How certain are you about this?"
I didn't understand his reaction… but I answered honestly.
"Quite certain. On several occasions… I spent the night inside their dungeons."
Some tensed.
"It was risky," I added, "but safer than staying outside at night. Abominations appear more frequently."
My father fell silent.
Then he rested his hand on his chin.
Thinking.
"Son…" he said finally. "Do you know where those dungeons are located?"
I blinked.
"Yes…" I replied. "I wrote them down. I thought they might be useful to help other tribes in the future."
His gaze changed.
"Could you share that map with me?"
I hesitated for a moment.
"What do you need it for?"
He shrugged naturally.
"I'm the chief of the tribe. I need to know anything that could help us avoid problems."
It made sense.
So I nodded.
I opened the system and transferred the information.
A notification appeared before him.
He smiled.
"Thank you, son. This will be very useful."
I lowered my gaze, slightly embarrassed.
"It's my duty…"
Then he looked up and addressed everyone.
"My plan changes."
The atmosphere tensed again.
"We won't launch another conquest."
Some let out relieved sighs.
"I'm sure the other tribal leaders in the alliance will agree once we discuss it."
We nodded.
But then he asked:
"Son… how many people know about this?"
I frowned.
"Very few," I replied. "Only those who travel as much as I do could have noticed… and I don't think they'd make it public. It's dangerous."
My father nodded slowly.
Satisfied.
"Then… it's settled."
Marek spoke.
"What's the plan, chief?"
My father smiled.
And that smile…
I didn't like it.
"Isn't it obvious?"
He paused briefly.
"We'll raid their dungeons."
The world seemed to stop.
"And thanks to my son…"
He slightly raised his hand.
"We have a map."
I stood there in silence.
Unable to react.
But what disturbed me the most…
Was seeing the others…
Nod in agreement.