The gash across the planet's face, a raw, livid scar, paled in comparison to the stark, unsettling void where a sliver of the moon should have been. It was a cosmic amputation, a missing tooth in the celestial smile, and it whispered of a power that defied comprehension.

  How could she wield such force? The question hammered at Kieran Ely as he crouched, trembling, behind a gnarled oak. His old life, the life of comfortable normalcy, had been obliterated, replaced by a terrifying reality where armies materialized from thin air and the very fabric of existence seemed malleable.

  The forest, once a tranquil haven, had become a grotesque theater of war. An army, a vast, writhing mass of humanity, surged forward, their faces grim, their weapons gleaming. It was a spectacle that would have been a breathtaking special effect in his old world, but here, it was a terrifying, tangible threat.

  But the army was only the opening act. The forest pulsed with a bestiary ripped from the pages of a fever dream. Giant, hairy spiders spun webs thick as ropes, their multifaceted eyes gleaming with predatory hunger. Packs of snarling wolves, their fur matted with blood, stalked through the undergrowth. Leathery bats, their wings spanning impossible widths, filled the twilight sky. And amidst it all, a viscous, undulating sea of slime creatures oozed and pulsed, a grotesque, living carpet.

  And then, the Assassins. They moved like shadows, their forms flickering in and out of sight, their blades whispering through the air. These were not the jovial townsfolk he watched behind glass. They were lethal, efficient, and utterly merciless, carving through the human army with a balletic grace that was both beautiful and horrifying.

  But it was the woman, the young woman with eyes the subtle shade of emerald, who had truly shattered Kieran's perception of reality. The annihilation beam, a searing lance of pure energy, had ripped through the space where King Aldus and his elite guard had been, leaving behind a smoking crater and wiping out a small portion of the army. The missing sliver of the moon was a testament to the raw, untamed power she commanded.

  Kieran's own meager control over time, a few precious seconds of stasis, seemed pathetically insignificant in comparison. He shook uncontrollably, his teeth chattering, his breath ragged. The world had become a kaleidoscope of impossible events, a nightmare painted in vivid, terrifying detail.

  Then, the sound of combat echoed from the east as the woman disappeared, a cacophony of steel and bestial roars. An irresistible urge, a morbid curiosity, propelled him forward. Why? He asked himself, but his legs carried him onward, his mind a whirlwind of fear and fascination. He used his time manipulation, brief, desperate pauses, to observe the carnage, each fleeting moment a snapshot of brutal beauty.

  He reached the source of the noise. A portal, a gaping maw in the fabric of reality, spewed forth an endless tide of demons. They were grotesque figures, their skin a patchwork of scales and chitin, their eyes burning with malevolent fire. The Assassins, a thin line of defense, fought with desperate ferocity, their blades flashing in the gloom, but they were being overwhelmed.

  Kieran felt a surge of self-loathing. He should have fled, returned to the relative safety of the mountain dungeon. His parents, he imagined, would be frantic, their faces etched with worry and disappointment. He could almost feel their disapproving gazes.

  He was a coward, a country hick in his drab tunic and pants, utterly out of place in this world of magic and monsters. He yearned for the cool, effortless grace of the Assassins, their movements a symphony of death.

  One of the guards, his eyes narrowed, registered a fleeting blur, a momentary ripple in the air, as Kieran sprinted past, his time manipulation dropping momentarily. He raced through the residential district, past the familiar landmarks of Lucinda's Liquids and Ali's, his heart pounding in his chest.

  The Academy of Dark Arts loomed ahead, its stone walls a stark contrast to the verdant forest. He remembered the crowd, the hushed whispers, the sense of foreboding as they had been led to the dungeon entrance.

  He plunged into the darkness, the tunnels and caves swallowing him whole. He hoped, with a desperate, childlike faith, that the Assassins could hold back the demonic tide, that the green-eyed woman could vanquish the king. He wanted his parents, their scolding voices, their warm embraces. He wanted to be grounded, to be safe, to return to the illusion of normalcy.

  He wanted to forget the missing piece of the moon, the raw, terrifying power that had carved it away. He wanted to forget the demons, the armies, the carnage. He wanted to forget the day that had shattered his world.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Kieran Ely, Time Mage

  Dungeon Stories Volume 4

  Noble Vampires aren't hindered by the same debilitating effects as their lessers. The first tier burst into flame the moment the come into contact with the sun. Even the artificially created dungeon sun turns them to dust.

  Which is about par for the course.

  Then you've got the second stage. They're able to withstand the everyday day aspect of life somewhat. They still set on fire if they come into direct contact, but are fine as long as they're covered up or under a parasol. At least they're able to carry out missions and aren't useless 16 hours a day.

  The third evolution, however, has risen a step higher on the evolutionary chain. Finally able to walk the sun-covered streets without setting aflame, Noble Vampires are truly the pinnacle of their species. They're also ridiculously good on the eye, my Goddess of Beauty title is really showing it's worth, and more often than not I find myself captured by their beauty.

  Not that being perfect is a bad deal. It should help with their mission. Some people will do anything for a pretty face, even going as far as to change their ways completely. Which is what we're aiming for really. The less we have to reform the better.

  For now, all of the Vampires have been sent to Tune and will stay there until I reach Ishda. Their job for now is to infiltrate society and learn anything they can because everything is important when it comes to changing the world.

  The Noble Vampires will be the new heads of society and will set the pace for the standard of living. Not just for themselves, but for that of everyone within the cities they're based. Regular Vampires have been designated as butler and maids, keeping them confined to the mansions where they're less likely to combust until they evolve. Their kind are able to use control magic to influence people weaker than them, which is almost everybody since gaining levels at the Coliseum has become a mandate.

  Plus, they have no problems in that front. Unlike the Triplets.

  Magical mind control will hopefully reduce the number of people visiting the Towers of Torture. Taking time to make people see the errors of their ways by letting them have a few days with Samantula and the Arachnids also works wonders, but scaring their souls back to grey isn't the most proficient way to go about what we're doing. Although, it still beats the cycle of reincarnation hands down.

  Who wants to wait fourteen years for someone to reach adulthood only to find out they're close to having an orange soul because they've lived negatively to survive? No one, that's who. It's better to solve the root of the problem.

  The way of living life itself.

  Hence why Tune and Orad have had a multitude of features built for them. Food supply easily surpasses the population's demands meaning there should be no one going hungry in either of those cities. Other issues were also addressed, new residential areas and orphanages created in both cities, because housing and food go hand in hand.

  According to Light, Orad doesn't have any other issues and barely has a dozen kids in their orphanage. There's more Assassins in the building than kids. On the other hand, Councilman Raff asked me to build a second one in Tune as theirs had filled before they could solve the problem.

  The housing and homeless problem was much easier to solve. Adults are more capable of taking care of themselves than children so it was a boost in quality of life for them. No longer yellow and with a skip in their step, a good percent of Tune turned a better shade of soul overnight.

  Those Vampires should do well too. More so in Ishda, but Tine will be a good trial run. There's no need for them in Orad since it's a beacon of the community.

  But speaking of Ishda, I'm about three-quarters of the way towards the region's capital. On the way, I pick up whatever farms and homesteads we see, slowly increasing my allowance in the process. It's not the explosive takeover of a city, but a quiet accumulation of power, a slow, deliberate tightening of my grip.

  Slowly but surely, they say.

  However, I've just realized another problem. One that I hadn't considered before. When the triplets and the rest of the Oblivion Dragons evolve, are they all going to become like Rebecca, the drum-playing Dragon of Rebellion?

  That is going to be hard.

  Although, I don't really want the triplets to change. Their personalities are what make them unique. I doubt Amber would lose her love of food, but I could do without them wanting to do the opposite of anything I say.

  That's another one of those bridges I'll have to cross soon. The problem is, I feel like these bridges are held together by yarn. Not the tightly woven kind, either. I'm talking single, fragile threads, each one vibrating, threatening to give way under my weight.

  Anyway, the Vampire I put in charge is named Jezebel. She manages the brood that will mind-fucking Tironians into being better people and reports to the councilman daily. Raff, in turn, reports her progress to me during the morning meetings in Varona.

  Fun times.

  Other than my Vampire test projects, which are going well, I've also been visiting the Cathedral of Confession since its recent upgrade. Cardinal Carn was adamant that I show up every now and then to reinforce the belief of his flock. Not that they should need it after we beat the King's army, but I don't particularly mind.

  It's nice to be appreciated.

  The visits consist of me saying a few words, Amber stuffing her face, Blondie being every single person's best friend, and Violet showing off the oversized Bear. Which, believe it or not, people are getting used to. Then again, an Oblivion Dragon riding a Bear is not the strangest sight my city has to offer.

  Of the many odd sightings that can be found around Varona, the multicoloured mountain that houses my dungeon is by far the winner. The sight I've come to know as home is breathtaking while being utterly impossible at the same time.

  Its growth alone is something that doesn't stand to reason, but the fact it changes and becomes more with every floor, Boss and Mini-Boss, is something else.

  Still, I wouldn't change it for the world.