The recent death of that soldier has given me a big boost in mana. Alone, this wouldn't be enough for me to feel comfortable starting work on Gu's new home, but there's another source of extra mana. I noticed that while the soldiers were fighting the goliath toads they were leaking far more mana than usual. It was coming off them in waves every time they fought.

  While I can't say for certain, I'm pretty sure that means visitors release more mana when they're experiencing something intense. Is it danger specifically? Does stimulation in general have the same effect? I've not been paying close attention until now, so I have no idea.

  The specifics will have to wait--I have my son's home to make, after all.

  I start by carving out a suitably large cavern. The cavern is round and domed like its predecessors, with the same kilometer wide interior. Unlike the other areas I've created, this one isn't going to be above ground.

  The walls and floor of the space are lined with a blend of rock and soil. The lower down the denser and more common the stone is, the floor itself being solid rock. The upper portions of the walls are made of soil that gets softer the higher up you go.

  As for the ceiling, I populate it with wood modeled after huge roots. Tangled snaking lengths of this wood wind down in organic patterns. I ensure they're perfect mimics, resembling roots in all but function. They're not alive in any way.

  The final touch to complete the top of the cavern is to add a variant of sky rock--this version depicts a bright golden glow. When this sky rock is combined with the wooden root lookalikes it produces a breathtaking effect. Rays of golden light shine down as if coming through from a forest high above.

  Now, all that remains is the actual terrain. The cavern has its borders, but no contents.

  Water and roots are how I imagine a place like this could be carved out from the earth. With this in mind, I fill the entirety of the space with dirt and rock. Then, slowly, I begin to carve away the material in a natural looking manner.

  Winding tunnels which follow the faux roots lead deep into the earth. These tunnels narrow and peter out around the stone layer. As for the water, I already have the water rocks I used to create the waterfall in Green Valley.

  I place several chunks of water rock in various parts of the upper walls of the cavern, mimicking natural streams. Following the flow of the water, I carve a believable path for it to have eroded through. These tunnels are less traversable than the ones I carved around the roots, but they go far deeper. Some tunnels get quite close to the very bottom of the cavern's designated area.

  With the basic shape of the area finished I can finally begin adding the details.

  Plant life is important, and those false roots I made aren't going to cut it for the whole of the region. My previous experience making plants pays off yet again, as I quickly whip up a few varieties to populate the area. Small roots hang from the ceiling of the softer earthy tunnels. Ferns grow in the spots lit by the golden sunlight peeking through from above. Mosses and fungi fill the areas where sunlight has trouble reaching, living off the nutrients in the soil and the trickle of water from above.

  Something about the plants is still lacking. I think it might be the lack of viable food sources, at least ones I can recognize as your average human--well, former human.

  To fill the lack of obvious plant based foods I decide to create a special kind of mushroom. My hope is they'll thrive in this kind of damp shaded interior. The mushrooms are the kind that grow most often on the sides of things. They resemble little organic shelves, their orange hue making them stand out against the browns and greys of the tunnels. Hopefully Gu and his friends-to-be will enjoy them.

  Now for the fauna. Since this place is mainly for gremlins I won't be adding any proper monsters. I don't know what I'd do with myself if Gu got hurt by something I created!

  With safety and diet in mind, I spawn a plethora of small relatively harmless animals in the grotto. There are bats, which will likely be eating any bugs- Wait a minute, are there even any bugs in my dungeon?

  A quick check of Green Valley and Flathoof Haven reveals there are some bugs, but not ones I designed. They don't affect my influence at all. I'm not sure if that's because they were born within my dungeon or if that's just how bugs are.

  It kind of bothers me that something I didn't make is living in my dungeon. I know it's not a big deal since they're just stuff like grasshoppers and flies, but it frustrates the perfectionist in me. Why should I let my animals get infected with fleas and ticks from the outside world? Those bugs are the worst!

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Mana leaks out of me as I take a long look at each and every little intruder I can find in the dungeon. Sure, their parents are the intruders--they were technically born here--but I don't want them here. Would killing them be wrong?

  Whatever. I don't have to kill them to get them out of my dungeon.

  The mana I've been pushing out of me is forming into a stone obelisk. An unpleasant amount of mana is being expended as I carve the thing, my attention stretched thin as I focus on the bugs and what I want to happen to them.

  Finally, my mana stops flowing, and an odd popping sound rings throughout my dungeon. Everything stops for just a moment to observe the strange noise. Then, as if nothing occurred, everything goes back to its business.

  I finally realize why that obelisk took so much mana when I look at the stupid thing. It's in Green Valley! That wouldn't be a problem, except there are people in there right now! I just shoved mana at the interference until it let me through. Ugh, what a waste.

  On the upside, I now have a deterrent against little creatures sneaking into my dungeon. Whenever anything that matches my idea of an unwanted bug enters my domain it's instantly removed. Now, the embarrassing part is that I don't actually know what happens to them.

  In my defense I was under a lot of mental strain! Doing anything in the vicinity of a human is like trying to speak while drinking water.

  But, where do the bugs go? All of them have vanished from the dungeon.

  ~

  There truly is nothing like a hot bath after a long day of dealing with the rabble. When I first arrived here in Daywark, I had suspected there would be not a hint of luxury within its unimpressive walls. I have since been proven quite wrong!

  The common folk may not have access to it, but here in the late Lord Fredrick's estate there is a respectable porcelain tub. There is a dedicated stove in the adjoining room for easy access to hot water. The servants keep the water and firewood topped up, so all I need to do is light the fire and turn the valve.

  Candlelight illuminates the room in a pleasantly gentle light. This is how things are meant to be. No strange dungeon nonsense, and no lantern stones. Though I must concede that lantern stones are somewhat useful for long nights in the office.

  I think there is only one thing missing from this evening.

  The tender embrace of a beautiful lady.

  Reaching out of the water, I grab the bell from the shelf beside the tub. I give it a good ring to announce my need for a servant. Within a few minutes one does arrive. Frankly it's ridiculous how slow the help is here--Royal servants are much more punctual!

  In walks a rather disheveled young maid. She looks nervous, as one should be in the presence of unclothed royalty. I check to ensure my modesty is preserved by the bubbles before motioning for her to come a bit closer.

  She does, albeit haltingly, her eyes wide and like that of a skittish doe.

  "W-What can I do for you, Your Highness?"

  "Relax, girl. I'm not going to bite you."

  I swear she thinks I'm lying. That look in her eyes is the one a rabbit might make at a fox who's insisting it can be trusted. The only difference is I haven't set my sights on her just yet. I am no beast--I am a man. And men distinguish the difference between a lamb and a full grown sheep before they feast.

  "How old are you?"

  My question appears to have caught the girl off guard. She hesitates, her eyes darting from me to the floor. I can tell she's trying to figure out what she is supposed to say.

  "I-I'm nineteen, Your Highness?"

  Well, she is of age at the very least. Though I can't say for certain whether or not that means she will accept my offer. It is astonishing, but some women refuse my advances. Why? I haven't the foggiest idea--I'm the most attractive male specimen in the country!

  Collecting myself, I tilt my head at an angle. I begin to speak to her in a softer tone. A gentle voice that indicates I'm looking for something more than a simple back rub.

  "How would you like to earn a little extra silver, fair lady?"

  The maid looks downright terrified now. I lean back somewhat as she twitches like a bug caught in a spider's web. Good lord, has this girl seen a ghost? Now she may be somewhat charming, but by no means do I want to bother if she is too afraid of my status as royalty to engage with me. How unhelpful.

  "Y-Your Highness, I-"

  I cut her off with a raised palm. She flinches as if expecting me to hit her, and I arch my brow.

  Lord Fredrick was not an abusive man, even the maids attest to such a truth. So where did she learn that sort of reaction? I suppose it isn't relevant.

  "You needn't provide an answer. I can see you're unfit for this task."

  "N-No, I'm sorry, please-"

  "Young lady, I will not be needing anything from you. You may leave."

  The girl looks stuck between wanting to stay and profess her usefulness, or to run and hide from me. She should really learn to stick up for herself. Seriously, would it kill the girl to just say no?

  An unsettling popping sound suddenly fills the room.

  My ears are ringing from the bizarre noise. The maid is also wincing in pain, her hands covering her ears. I can't hear a damn thing. Lifting my hand up, I intend to check my ears for any sign of damage, such as bleeding. Instead of cleanly pulling my hand from the water I feel something squirming in my palm.

  The bathwater feels a lot colder to me all of a sudden.

  Resting in my hand is a collection of bugs. I can pick out a confused looking grasshopper twitching near my thumb. There's a frighteningly large spider with its legs curled up as if it's dead--I can tell by its twitching fangs that it is not. An especially squirmy earthworm is wrapping itself around my fingers.

  An ear piercing shriek is the first thing I hear as my ears return to normal. That maid I propositioned is clearly frightened by what she's witnessing. Looking down, my own reaction is to start squealing like a freshly born babe.

  Filling my bathtub is an assortment of insects, slugs, and all manner of pests.

  Thus, as any brave man would, I faint.