Peter knew exactly why he had been chosen to head into the swamp with the second evaluation team, and he was not happy about it. As the only person to ever see the true entrance, it was his duty to lead this group to it. The team honestly scared him a little.

  Their warrior was Greg, the alligator-kin. Greg had moss-green hide and was nearly as big as Ian had been. He even wielded an anchor. Who wields an anchor? Greg was here because he had both water and earth affinity. Alycia was considering him as the head of the new branch of the Adventuring Guild to be placed in the local town once it was finished being built.

  Representing the Mage’s Guild was Cresh, the falcon woman—a wind mage, if Peter remembered correctly. With how violently she tore into her jerky, Peter did not want to catch her eye.

  Hank was the representative of the Alchemist’s Guild. Peter knew next to nothing about the porcupine-kin. He at least seemed aware of his surroundings, and he had no qualms about snapping off his own quills to use them to poke things.

  Peter never got the names of the two rogues. One represented the Thieves’ Guild and the other the Assassins’ Guild. From what he could tell, they were twin rat-kin, and they kept to themselves.

  The ferret-kin ranger surprised Peter the most. Mary was here representing the Ranger’s Guild. She had a confident strut that Peter had trouble looking away from.

  Peter’s saving grace was that he was not in charge of this group. That responsibility belonged to Zala, a shark-kin woman. She was both a mage and a spearwoman. If Peter recalled her class correctly, she was an Aqua Lancer. She stood a good foot taller than even Greg, and her body rippled with power as she moved. Her eyes would slightly dilate every time she looked at the swamp.

  “All right, let’s form up,” Zala called out. “Our goal is to get farther than the original survey team. From all reports, things have only gotten more chaotic in Vitalmire. From the amount of blood I can casually smell, I have to agree.”

  “Is penetrating deeper our only goal?” Cresh asked.

  “I mean, I would like more samples too,” Hank piped up.

  Zala nodded. “We are to try to gather as much as we can. I hear there is a lesser hydra, and I personally don’t want to pull back until I have gotten a chance to test myself against it. But I have been told to let Hank and the rogues collect as they see fit. Peter here is our representative of the local druid circle—the first druid to bond to the swamp. It is how we know its name. He also reported seeing both the hydra and the entrance.”

  They all turned toward Peter, and the meat he was chewing suddenly tasted like ash in his mouth. He swallowed heavily before nodding. “I did indeed. The entrance is not actually hidden; it is just very deep into the swamp.”

  “Is it true that the swamp is getting bigger?” Greg asked.

  Peter nodded. “It is roughly twenty percent larger, expanding away from the town. It seems that the vitality of the dungeon is spreading, thus allowing the swamp to expand as well.”

  “Vitality?” Zala asked.

  “The dungeon seems to have two boundaries to its influence,” Peter explained. “The first feels like a thin bubble of mana. The second—for those of us who can feel it—feels like a field of raw vitality. Either you will notice it or you won’t. There is no middle ground.”

  “We will see,” Zala declared as she eyed him. “Let’s move out.”

  The group made small talk among themselves as they advanced. Peter stayed up front near Zala, as it was his duty to help guide them. As they crossed the first boundary of the dungeon’s influence, it seemed everyone noticed. Most of the conversation died.

  “You call this a thin bubble?” Cresh criticized.

  “Only because I can feel the second,” Peter admitted as they continued forward.

  As they crossed the second boundary, Peter took a moment to bask in the sheer lifeforce pouring off the swamp. To his surprise, the entire group had stopped. It seemed that they all could feel it. The reactions were split: for some it was elation; for others, it triggered their fight-or-flight response.

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  Twin growls rang out from Greg and Zala as they looked at each other and grinned.

  “Okay, I see what you mean,” Cresh squeezed out. “I see why you would call it vitality.”

  “Keep formation. We are moving in,” Zala called out.

  They pushed deeper into the swamp. Peter frequently had to fall back and explain particular fungi to Hank. Every time they found a poisonous variety, the twins scampered over to collect their own samples. They seemed most interested in a particular variety of red, finger-like mushrooms that were especially toxic.

  Peter did his best to keep the party advancing. At least no one argued with him when he led them around the territory of several massive turtles. Fights against monsters never really lasted long. Anything smaller than a troll was simply killed in a single hit, and trolls only took a few more. It seemed like every person here would have been fully capable of clearing the place alone. Peter also noticed that none of them were holding back, which made him wonder if they would burn out before too much longer.

  Peter reached out and plucked a large ant from the muck while Zala fought her third swamp troll. The carapace crunched between his teeth as he watched dispassionately.

  “How can you eat that?” Mary asked as she walked up next to him.

  “The dungeon does not seem to mind all that much,” he said with a shrug. “Here, try some.” He snapped off an antenna from the small, dog-sized ant.

  To her credit—at least in Peter’s eyes—she did not hesitate.

  “That is actually not the worst thing I have ever eaten,” she admitted. “I actually quite like the crunch.” With that, she snagged one of the legs.

  “There are also a ton of spices scattered throughout the dungeon if you know where to look,” Peter continued. “I have built up a bit of a pantry—thirty different herbs and spices and counting.”

  “For a druid, you are rather food-oriented,” Mary noted slyly.

  “Indeed,” he admitted. “Is it wrong for me to enjoy the bounty of the land? I don’t think so. In fact, I think my appreciation for the variety of bounties from this place actually deepens my connection with it. For everything we eat becomes a part of us.”

  “That is a little deep for me,” Mary admitted. “But variety *is* the spice of life.”

  Zala let out a cry of victory as she froze the swamp troll solid before shattering it with her fist. With her victory secured, the group moved on.

  Despite Peter’s best efforts to make their journey as easy as possible, the group still seemed to start flagging before too much longer.

  “Maybe we should rest,” Peter offered. “We are not that far from Elizabeth.”

  “Elizabeth?” several of the group asked.

  “The lesser hydra boss,” he explained.

  “Is she called Elizabeth because Liz is in the name?” Greg asked. “Do we have another dungeon that thinks puns are funny?”

  “I think a short rest would be for the best,” Zala agreed.

  Peter erected an earthen dome around them and began pulling various items out of his spatial necklace.

  “What is all this?” Hank asked as Peter handed him a stool.

  “May as well fortify ourselves with a meal before a boss fight,” Peter said cheerily as he pulled out a large round table and set out the various dishes he had prepared. He loved that his food stayed warm in his spatial necklace—still the best platinum coin he had ever spent.

  “I think I like you,” Greg teased as Peter also pulled out several barrels of beverages. One was fruit juice, one was wine, one was spiced mead, and one was water.

  “I was told to be your host for this trip,” Peter informed them. “In my mind, you can’t be a good host without offering a proper meal. Oh, and all the meals here are made with only local ingredients.”

  The teasing comments stopped as everyone took in the impressive feast he had laid out for them.

  “Don’t let it go cold—help yourselves,” he encouraged.

  They all collapsed upon the meal like the predators they were. Peter did not fault them; he would have been famished too if he had been tossing around mana like they had.

  “This steak tastes familiar,” Zala noted.

  “That would be because it is rabbit,” Peter said as he began loading his own plate.

  Zala looked at him in disbelief. “No rabbit has this much meat on its entire body,” she countered.

  “The ones here do,” Peter explained calmly. “They only recently began leaking out of the dungeon. These rabbits are the size of large canines.”

  Everyone stopped eating to stare at him. The bewildered looks made him chuckle.

  “The local beast goblins were evolved from rabbits—probably for their prolific ability to breed,” Peter said with a laugh. “I think at this point the dungeon is just trying to see how big it can make the rabbits.”

  Everyone resumed eating, but the mood seemed more sober all of a sudden.

  “Is it that much of an issue?” Peter asked.

  “From what I know, dungeons only experiment when they have excess resources,” Cresh answered.

  “Ah,” Peter said, finally understanding. “Those giant turtles I had you avoid are not denizens of the dungeon. They predate it. The dungeon has been waging a bit of a war against them, but they keep adapting and breeding faster than it can deal with them.”

  “So the excess mana is from harvesting turtles?” one of the twins asked.

  “Indeed,” Peter reassured them. “Not once have the denizens of the dungeon attempted to attack the settlement. Not once have they even tried to leave.”

  At that, there was a commotion outside the wall Peter had erected. With a touch more will than he wanted to spend, he made the wall see-through. On the other side, a massive dire snapping turtle was fighting a very dedicated group of beast goblins.

  “Dinner and a show,” Greg cheered.

  The group continued their meal as the grisly fight played out. To everyone’s surprise, they all found themselves cheering for the goblins.