The tense standoff had ended; the bow of submission did not last long, as the construct stood up straight once again and observed its surroundings. Good. It looks like many of the creatures' instincts had been preserved. He had discovered a minor problem, however; after the beast began to move around, he felt that the originally steady flow of mana returning to him had reduced. It was about half the original strength that it used to be. So he could probably only support one massive construct at a time.

  Warbeast, he said to himself. That is how he would refer to this creation in the future. “Your name is Fenrir,” Amand said to his creation. “Guard the place well and you are free to do what you want.” The beast took its leave; he could feel it as it barely fit through the tunnels. Its iron sides scraping the walls. Perhaps an expansion is in order, he thought. He used what little mana he had left to expand the main tunnels so the warbeast could maneuver through the halls somewhat effectively.

  He was low on mana but could still get some souls into the little beetle constructs; let's call these Watchers, he thought to himself. He felt some pride in his work and they deserved an appropriate name. He put some blank souls into them and told them of their purpose: wander the halls and find any source of disturbance while remaining hidden. The goblin tried his best to share the way to do so but was not sure how to go about it exactly. He just told them to run through the maze and follow any noises that were not him or Ferris.

  With that done, he finally sat down in his large leather armchair and took a long-deserved breath of air and slowly exhaled it. He wasn’t sure of the warbeast’s battle capabilities, but he had high hopes. The goblin stared at the crackling purple flames within the hearth; the dungeon core that had been basically invisible when he first moved here had expanded to an orb about the size of his head. It lazily floated there within the flames. Finally feeling a bit safer, he nodded off to sleep. The nap wasn’t long but it was far more invigorating than any night of sleep he had so far.

  He awoke with a start, not expecting the sudden nod-off, and he quickly analyzed the state of the dungeon. It was just the same as it was. Fenir was endlessly patrolling; the 11 beetles were scattered and skittering through the labyrinth. He exhaled once again; perhaps he would finally be able to have a quiet life of peace. After everything, he was in dire need of something relaxing; he got up and made himself his favorite dinner. He even summoned the raw ingredients and cooked them himself.

  He had abandoned his self-care routine when his dungeon was invaded and it was about time to return to it. The goblin finished his meal, cleaned up, and soaked in the bath. Finally grabbing a book from the shelf, he decided to indulge in some dwarven literature today, Love Stuck Gold Smith. Quite literal, much like the dwarves, he mused to himself. Perhaps he can indulge in some elven love tales too, but there's no point in thinking too far ahead. He opened the book and began to read till he could read no more.

  That night he was visited by someone new, a figure with large golden horns, glowing veins, and a serpent’s tongue. Despite those features, overall the figure was quite handsome. “Please sit,” the figure waved as a chair and table rose from the molten, craggy ground beneath them. Armand looked a little confused but followed suit; the horned figure in turn sat down. With a click of his fingers, two cups appeared before them. He summoned a teapot; curls of thick black smoke floated from the spout. The visitor poured from it into each of the cups; the fluid was dark with glowing streaks within. The figure lifted the cup and took a deep drink of it. Armand tried to mimic him but his hand phased through the cup.

  “Sorry, I forget sometimes that most visitors are merely astral bodies.” The being said with a smile, one that said he clearly knew that this would be the result.

  “Astral?” Armand asked, clearly curious about who he was dealing with and what situation he found himself in.

  “I can answer both your questions,” the being said with a coy smile, and the goblin cocked his head quizzically. “They are written on your face and echoing through your mind.” He set the cup down and crossed his legs while leaning back. “I am one of the nine archdevils of hell, Mammon of Greed.”

  “A devil!” The goblin couldn’t help but exclaim; he knew of their reputation, and the fact he was not witnessing endless tortures—the thought of this individual being such a creature had never crossed his mind.

  “Indeed,” Mammon replied, “mind you, most devils are exactly as you think but with sufficient strength such behavior is no longer needed. Perhaps we should move to your next question. After all, your time here is limited. In sleep, the soul can become detached from the body and explore the various planes; those also in extradimensional are also more likely to experience it as well.”

  “So I came here when I slept?” The goblin asked.

  “Indeed… now, to business.” The devil changed the direction of the discussion. “There is an up-and-rising demon that is threatening our circle; we ask you to summon and bind him to your dimension.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Excuse me?” Armand was clearly confused about this.

  “Yes, some background is needed.” The demon casually and quickly extended one of its thin pointed fingers and tapped the goblin on the forehead before he could react. Information flooded his mind; demons grow in power through torture, subterfuge, and general chaos, feeding off the emotions that were created by their duplicitous actions. They often give their powers to people in exchange for their eternal soul, which could be tortured for an endless supply of power.

  The more souls a demon collected, the better. Demons were inherently immortal as long as their names were remembered; however, that was also their greatest weakness. Demons were all born with two names, their title and their true names. Titles were how they were summoned, for example, Mammon. However, all demons held a true name; if called by said name, they could not resist any commands and were essentially enslaved by the holder.

  “You caught up,” Mammond patiently waited for the information to settle within the goblin’s mind.

  “I believe so.” Armand replied.

  “Good, you just need to summon him and then speak his true name to bind him into your service.” The demon said, “His true name is He Who Seeks Above All Else Knowledge.”

  “How?” The goblin asked.

  “It should be in the information I transferred to you.” Mammond reminded him.

  “Oh ok, I guess why then?” The goblin asked.

  “Well, consider it a deal. Upon summoning and binding the Demon of Knowledge, you will gain access to its immense well of information throughout the years. We get him out of our hands and you get a powerful assistant.” The demon tried his best to sugarcoat it all. Armand didn’t really have a reason to fight against it but he knew there was probably some hidden cost behind it all. “Seriously consider it, Amand.” The voice of the devil began to fade away as he was being pulled back to his body; only then did he finally hear the faint screams emanating from the cup of black fluid on the table, and the last thing he saw was the face of petrified horror of some poor soul within the cup.

  He sat upright with a startled expression but calmed once he realized that he was within his bed. The goblin did not particularly like that visitation but now he finally understood what was happening in his sleep. He was wandering the dimensional realms in his sleep. His first thought was maybe finding a way to prevent future accidental excursions, but he couldn’t visit the various gods who blessed him then. He did need to read into it, however. To the shelves, as he went to the Magic Section of his library. After some searching, he found a small leather-bound book, Plane and Simple: The Art of Astral Projection. He went to the kitchen and set the book down on the table; he summoned some bread and began to munch as he flipped through its pages.

  Most of what the demon had shared had been correct, a rarity amongst them. He could gain control over where he went with some practice. It also recommended shielding the soul through some spells or his soul could be corrupted by planes he visited or his astral form could be tortured or shattered. Considering he recently visited hell, coming back unscathed was quite impressive, apparently.

  "Hell and back" was quite an appropriate phrase, he chuckled to himself. He took the last bite of bread as he closed the book shut. He got the idea to confirm something else so he stood upright and carried the book back to its spot and headed over to another section. Ah, he smiled; he had seen this book before. He had wanted to read it and now he had a good reason to. The book, Hell's Bells and Whistles, Demon Summoning and Magics.

  He returned to his armchair and began to flip through it; all the background information in regard to devils was correct. However, he found an issue; the summoning circle he was to use was not that. It was a possession circle, one that would bind a devil to the body of the summoner. If the ritual was done without sufficient sacrifices as well, the summoner and demon would die due to lack of sufficient demonic and magic power.

  If he had done this like Mammon wanted, the devil in question would indeed be out of Mammon’s hair, and so would he. He closed the book, always paid to double-check, especially when dealing with devils. However, the book did contain a legitimate demon summoning ritual, usually used for summoning lesser devils to create familiars but he could easily summon a greater demon as long as he had its true name.

  Truth be told, he had been thinking about summoning a demon anyhow. He had limited materials for crafting, but he had read in one of his blacksmithing books that there was a special type of metal made by forging steel from hellfire and mana. The special metal was known as Hellforged Steel; it was significantly stronger than regular steel and highly resistant to magic. But before that, he needed to address the mana shortage in the dungeon core. Previously the flow of mana had increased by enlarging the tunnels so he needed to do so now.

  After all, apparently he needs to have enough mana to summon a wanna be archdevil. He began to enlarge the passages to the extreme; he kept the overall shape of the labyrinth the same and just scaled it up. His mana reserves had grown quite vast through repeated practice and he also made another discovery. During his reading he began to explore the properties of stone, after which he discovered as he worked with stone that it required less mana than before. The better he understood something, the less mana it took to create it; he had similar results with iron, wood, and of course stone.

  After enlarging it all to the extreme, the halls look far more like caverns than halls at this point. But the mana was still about the same; perhaps it had to do with the doorway? He focused in on the wrought iron door to the outside; perhaps he could enlarge it? He imagined it large and it grew in response and the mana poured in.