"I only speak the truth. Just look that way and wait for a moment," the goblin insisted, pointing toward an empty patch of purple fog.
Silence fell over the group as everyone held their breath, eyes locked on the swirling mist.
A low hum began to vibrate in the air, causing the dirt beneath them to tremble.
Then, the fog began to swirl violently.
A glowing orb materialized from the chaos, its surface shimmering with iridescent energy.
A burst of light erupted from within the orb, revealing a tiny, writhing figure.
It was a baby goblin, no more than two feet tall, blinking up at the sky with wide, innocent eyes.
"Oh my…," Lyssandra muttered, her lips parting as she watched the creature unfold its tiny limbs.
It took a shaky first step before falling flat on its face, then immediately popped back up to its feet as if the fall meant nothing.
"This is ridiculous," she whispered, shaking her head at the supernatural birth method.
Another orb appeared nearby, popping open with a sound like a cork popping.
Then a third.
Soon, a few more orbs were appearing all around the camp, each one releasing another newborn goblin into the world.
The clearing was now filled with squirming, cooing infants, a chorus of high-pitched wails filling the air.
Lyssandra stepped forward, reaching out to touch the skin of the newest addition.
"Feels warm," she observed, her fingers brushing the green, leathery hide of the infant.
"Yes, Great One, they come into the world fully formed and ready to hunt," the swift goblin informed her, looking proud of his people's resilience.
They could hear the sound of crunching bones in the background, a new group of newborns attacking each other in their first battle for survival.
"That is quite… violent for a nursery," Lyssandra commented, watching a trio of goblins tear into the meat of their siblings with gleeful enthusiasm.
The goblins ate and played in a chaotic scene of carnage and life.
Lyssandra sighed and let out a nervous chuckle, shaking her head at the strange new reality she had been thrust into.
"Will they be this small forever?" she asked, her gaze shifting back to the swarm of tiny goblins wrestling in the dirt.
The swift goblin looked at her with a mixture of fear and respect.
"No, they'll mature in a day," he said. "Until then, we can just watch, maybe herd them into a small enclosure so they finish faster."
Lyssandra listened to the swift goblin then she took a deep breath and commanded.
"Do it, go and build a temporary arena with walls."
Most of the goblins went to do it, they were eager to prove their loyalty.
The clearing was filling with the sound of clapping hands and cheering goblins as walls rose.
"Done?" Lyssanda, looking satisfied, waited for them to finish.
"Done." a hobgoblin shouted, his voice filled with energy.
She ordered the goblins to herd all of the newborn goblins into the newly built arena, leaving the killing for them to handle.
From her perch, she watched the violence below, her gaze sharp and unyielding.
"If the dungeon created these goblins, then wouldn't other races be born too?" she wondered aloud, her mind racing.
Luna, who had been watching silently, stepped forward, still in her humanoid form and wearing the same revealing clothes as Lyssandra.
Deep within her womb, the vast reservoir of white seed that Lyssandra had forced inside her earlier still churned with a slow, rhythmic pulse.
The volume had diminished since the initial filling, now occupying only half of her distended torso as her body greedily absorbed the potent fluid.
Her lower abdomen remained visibly swollen, a testament to the heavy load she carried.
Even as she walked, the fluid shifted beneath her skin, creating a wet, heavy sensation that seemed to weigh down her very steps.
"Indeed," she replied, her voice steady and calm, almost as if she was reciting a fact she had learned by heart.
"Many water slimes should be born near the underground stream now. Do you want me to kill them all, Master?" Luna asked, her tone as neutral as if she were discussing the weather.
Lyssandra glanced at Luna for a moment, then shifted her attention to the system interface hovering in her vision.
[Slime Tamer]: Captured slimes will become tame over time.
This title was a result of her intimate encounter with Luna, marking the beginning of a new evolution.
Her [Slime Mimicry] skill had now reached its full potential, allowing her to transform her very essence into a slime.
Instead of a heart beating in her chest, a glowing core pulsed deep within her, mirroring the very creatures she sought to tame.
"Weird," Luna remarked suddenly, her brow furrowing. "The number of goblins born today should be higher than this."
Lyssandra raised an eyebrow at her companion's observation. "How many goblins does the dungeon usually create?"
Luna shrugged and tilted her head slightly, a swift goblin answered instead.
"Normally around twenty or thirty, maybe even more on a good day, depending on how much mana the dungeon absorbs from the surface."
Lyssandra furrowed her brow as she listened to his words. "Is this normal?" she asked.
"No, this is highly abnormal," Luna said, her voice tinged with a serious edge.
"That only means one thing. The amount of mana the dungeon has been absorbing is now dropping to a critical low level."
She rubbed her temples as she spoke, her expression growing grim.
Now, Morgana joined the fray too, stepping into the light of the torch with an air of concern.
"This strange event must be related to the past incident," the Spider Queen remarked.
Lyssandra blinked, turning her head to look at the arachnid slave.
"What incident?" she asked, remembering she wasn't present during those times.
"You mean that earthquake before?" Luna interjected, her eyes widening slightly.
"Yes, it might be. Half a year ago, a strong earthquake shook this dungeon. I thought it was just a normal quake, but then weeks, then months passed. The mana concentration in the air was getting thinner."
Luna closed her eyes, her mind deep in thought as she recollected the memories.
"Do you know what caused that earthquake?" Lyssandra asked, her voice dropping lower.
"No one knows for sure," Morgana answered, her voice a soft whisper.
"I once sent my children to investigate every nook and cranny of this dungeon floor, but nothing strange happened."
She paused, looking down at the killing arena.
"…except," Morgana continued.
"Except?" Lyssandra prompted.
"The second floor of the dungeon," Morgana clarified, her six eyes glowing in the dim light. "It should have been wide open so that everyone even those nasty adventurers, could go in and challenge the Dungeon Boss. But when my children arrived there, the giant doors were closed."
Lyssandra's expression darkened, her brow furrowed as she searched her memory for details.
"Big doors?" she mused, her mind racing back to her arrival. "Oh, the big doors I passed through when I first woke up in this dungeon. Yes, they were indeed closed."
"This is a serious problem," Luna finally spoke after thinking through.
"I didn't notice at first, because the dungeon births new creatures once a month. It's been six months now, and their numbers have been gradually decreasing, so it wasn't immediately obvious. If this continues, then the dungeon will…"
"…collapse," both Luna and Morgana exclaimed simultaneously.
The word hung in the air like a death sentence.
"What should we do to avoid this?" Lyssandra asked, her voice firm.
Luna took a moment to organize her thoughts before answering.
"There are two ways. First, we simply leave the dungeon. Even though we were created by this place, we are each single individuals with our own will."
"Second, we have to somehow increase the mana intake of the dungeon. The only way I can think of is luring adventurers in, then killing them. Their mana would then flow directly back into the dungeon's core."
Lyssandra looked at Luna with a surprised expression, her eyes wide.
"How do you know all of this?" she asked, truly baffled.
"What do you mean?" Luna replied, tilting her head in confusion.
"Everything!" Lyssandra exclaimed, gesturing with her hands.
"I don't know. Maybe living so long has given me more intellect than most?" Luna shrugged.
"What about the mana flow from adventurers?" Morgana interjected, her six eyes blinking in curiosity. "How do you know that it goes into the dungeon?"
"Oh, you didn't know?" Luna asked, looking genuinely puzzled. "I thought everyone could see it. The purple smoke that gets sucked up into the sky every time a creature dies."
"No," both Lyssandra and Morgana spoke in unison.
"Then it must be me who is special," Luna said, a hint of pride creeping into her voice.
"Yes, you have always been special, my pet," Lyssandra murmured.
She raised her hand and began to gently stroke Luna's head.
"Of course, Master…" Luna giggled like a little girl, leaning into the touch and closing her eyes to enjoy the affection.
Lyssandra sighed and pulled her hand back, her thoughts returning to the situation.