The air of the abyssal world was thick with shadows, but within Kael's stronghold, a different rhythm thrived. Hammer strikes, the echo of picks against stone, the creak of living wood expanding — it was the pulse of civilization, built not by men but by the evolving summons who now walked with purpose.
Today, the spotlight fell not on Pyraflame or the other elemental spirits, but on the races that had proven themselves more than Kael ever imagined.
Once no taller than Kael's chest, the kobolds now carried the posture of hardened workers, their frames dense with muscle and their claws tipped with natural ore. Rare rank had given them clarity — their eyes glowed faint amber, allowing them to spot veins of ore even in the deepest dark.
The Miner class had reshaped the very foundations of the stronghold.
Ore Sense (C): allowed kobold miners to feel the vibration of metals in stone.
Earthshaper's Touch (D): hardened their claws for digging or carving stable tunnels.
With these, they had carved miles of tunnels beneath the fortress. Veins of iron, abyssal crystal, and rare stones now flowed upward through rails and lifts.
Above them, the Kobold Warriors sharpened their obsidian-forged blades, their scales now ridged like armor plates. They moved in packs, guarding the miners with a loyalty Kael didn't need to command.
It was the Kobold Foremen, though, who impressed him most. With barked commands and practiced gestures, they managed dozens at once, their instincts evolving into strategy. Where Kael had seen only raw potential, they had created an economy of stone.
The treants had grown monumental. At Rare rank, their trunks gleamed with veins of crystal, their bark reinforced with a metallic sheen. They moved slowly, each step shaking the ground, but there was power in their presence.
Their signature skill was what set them apart:
Sanctuary Roots (C): When rooted, they spread purification energy through the land, forcing the abyss back and creating small safe zones.
Within the stronghold, this meant the treants had established three great groves. Each grove pulsed with luminescence — glowing fungi, moss-covered stones, and clear streams running free of corruption.
Here Kael's people rested. Here, injured summons found recovery. The groves weren't just defenses — they were the lungs and heart of his domain.
Treants also evolved roles: some leaned into defense, becoming Barkwardens, their forms thicker, branches ending in spiked clubs. Others became Lifeweavers, channeling their roots into healing light, mending wounds with slow but steady radiance.
But the greatest surprise had come from the beastmen.
When Kael gave them the tools of crafting, he expected little more than relief for himself. Instead, the System had recognized their efforts, granting them classes and guiding their evolutions.
Now the forges roared day and night.
Forge Adepts worked like artists, shaping blades and armor that resonated faintly with mana. Their skill Rune Etching (D) allowed them to carve faint symbols that strengthened gear.
Ironblood Artificers blended combat and craft. They hammered weapons mid-battle, heating metal with their fists, turning the battlefield into a mobile forge.
Stone Builders laid walls, bridges, and watchtowers. Their skill Load-Bearer's Will (E) allowed them to work tirelessly without exhaustion.
The beastmen had evolved not into brutes of war, but into the backbone of Kael's civilization. For the first time, Kael realized he was no longer the sole architect. His summons were crafting a world beside him.
Together, kobolds, treants, and beastmen reshaped the abyssal landscape.
Kobold tunnels created endless streams of ore.
Treant groves carved sanctuaries against corruption.
Beastmen forges turned resources into weapons, armor, and tools.
Kael walked the avenues of this new domain — streets lit with crystal lanterns, kobolds hauling carts of ore, beastmen hammering sparks in their workshops, treants towering over it all like guardians of an alien forest.
The System pulsed, recognizing what had been wrought:
[ Civilization Progression Achieved ]
[ Summoner's Stronghold — Tier II: Dominion ]
[ Influence Expanded: 30km radius ]
[ Population recognized as Structured Society ]
Kael stopped at the edge of a treant grove, watching the roots pulse with life. It struck him: this was no longer just a dungeon crawl. No longer survival.
This was empire.
And empire meant responsibility.
Kael stood atop the watchtower, gazing over his stronghold. Smoke curled from the forges, roots glowed faintly in the treant groves, and kobold miners sang in rhythmic unison as they hauled ore carts up from the depths. His people — his summons — had become something far greater than simple tools of survival.
But beyond the walls, the abyss pulsed. He could feel it — the oppressive weight of the dungeon pressing in. For every grove purified, more corruption clawed at the edges. For every expansion of his stronghold, a new threat stirred in the shadows.
The dungeon wasn't idle. It was watching. Testing him.
Kael pulled up the dungeon's current status:
[ Remaining Challenges — Floor 9 ]
Mini-Bosses: 30
Bosses: 15
Thirty mini-bosses, each capable of leveling a small army. Fifteen floor bosses, each monstrosity enough to shatter even fortified domains. Any sane summoner would pick them off one by one.
But Kael wasn't sane anymore.
He had an army. Not of men, but of evolving legends.
Kobolds with oresense and armored claws.Treants whose roots created sanctuaries of light.Beastmen who hammered strength into every blade.And behind them, goblin warbands under the Chieftain Graknar, elemental sovereigns pushing toward mythic rank, and thousands of skeleton legions trained in endless drills.
For two years, he had prepared. Now it was time to test the culmination of that effort.
Kael closed his eyes and let his will spread into the summoner's link. A ripple ran through the bond, like a stone cast into a vast, invisible lake. From Pyraflame soaring high above to the kobold miners deep underground, every summon turned their head as Kael's presence pressed into their minds.
His voice carried through the tether, steady and absolute.
"My kin. My companions. My soldiers. We've built this world together. From shadow and stone, we have carved something the abyss cannot swallow. But now comes the time to prove our strength."
Visions pulsed through the bond — the thirty mini-bosses lurking in their lairs, the fifteen floor bosses waiting in the darkness.
"We will not hunt them one by one. We will not cower or delay. We strike them all. Together. Now."
The bond quaked with responses.
Pyraflame roared, embers shaking the air.
Luminara's radiant song echoed through the link.
Umbra's shadowy laughter slithered like a blade drawn free.
Graknar howled, echoed by the thundering war cries of thousands of goblins.
Kobolds banged their picks against stone, a drumming of war.
Beastmen roared from their forges, raising hammers like weapons.
Treants groaned, branches creaking as they uprooted themselves for war.
Kael's lips curled into a cold smile.
"Tonight, the dungeon will tremble. Tonight, the abyss will learn that we are no prey. Prepare yourselves. At dawn, we march to war."
The entire stronghold shifted in heartbeat.
Kobolds sharpened weapons and dug supply caches.
Beastmen hammered out final sets of armor, runes glowing faintly on blades.
Treants rooted near the walls, spreading protective wards across the land.
Goblin warbands assembled, war drums echoing like thunder.
Even the elemental sovereigns circled the skies and rivers, preparing their magic in silence.
Kael stood at the heart of it all, overlooking the countless fires that lit his dominion. He opened his status window one last time, eyes narrowing.
[ Summoner Level: 70 ]
[Active Summons: 16,384 ]
[ Command Capacity: Stable ]
[ Dungeon Floor 9 Remaining Boss Entities: 45 ]
His hand clenched into a fist.
"All of them. At once."
The abyss shivered in anticipation.