“Celeste, give me the battle report,” Viktor said.

  [Understood, Master.]

  In an instant, the familiar, orderly stream of information unfolded before his eye.

  Looked like the only true losses were the four goblins incinerated by Pimm’s fireball. The ones bisected by Borin’s axe, on the other hand, had survived. Their wounds were messy, yes, but not fatal. After a week, they would be back on their feet as if nothing had ever happened.

  All in all, a very good trade.

  The casualties had cost him less than a hundred points of mana, in exchange for over three thousand gained. On top of that, he got to assess the battlefield impact of his new hex users.

  And Celeste had leveled up as well. Wasn’t that nice?

  “Show me your current stats.”

  [Yes, Master.]

  “Show me the details of the ‘Summon Greater Minions’ skill,” Viktor said.

  So it’s been upgraded, huh? Level 1 had granted him access to the Cyclopes. He wondered what Level 2 would bring.

  [Yes, Master.]

  “Ettin? The three-headed giant?”

  [Yes, Master. Even though they are smaller than true giants, they are still the largest among the giant-like humanoids. They have three heads, each with a mind of its own. They are ferocious yet surprisingly intelligent and cunning, far more than what their brutish appearance might suggest.]

  That Viktor knew. He had faced them before, after all, and he had found the way they fought utterly ridiculous. The three heads kept arguing among themselves mid-combat, bickering over practically everything, all the while delivering one devastating attack after another. Sometimes he wondered whether it was all an act, meant to make their opponents underestimate them.

  Well, just like every other creature Celeste could summon on demand, the most sensible thing to do with these new minions was to get a few and put them to the test. Trial and error had always been the most reliable way to learn stuff, after all. But that was a problem for later. Right now, he needed to review the results of the experiment he had just conducted.

  He had burned a thousand points of mana to convert twenty goblins into hex specialists. Each one of them could now cast “Hex: Fatigue,” a curse attack that drained strength and stamina from a chosen target, which they could use once per day.

  Before today’s formal trial, he had had them try it out on various dungeon residents. When the spell was used against the goblins, the curse landed roughly 65% of the time, and the unfortunate subjects of the test were weakened for about five seconds. Spiders fared a bit better, with a 50% chance and a weakening effect lasting more than four seconds. Against gnolls, it had a 25% success rate, with about three seconds of fatigue. Then there were the Cyclopes. The rate dropped below 10%, and the duration couldn’t even reach a full second. Sebekton had volunteered to be tested as well. And it turned out this curse barely affected him at all.

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  The conclusion was clear. Size and raw physical strength had a significant effect on resistance to the curse. Smaller, weaker creatures were more vulnerable, while bigger, tougher ones could just shrug it off.

  The tests also showed that distance played little to no role. Either the spell could be cast, or it couldn’t. As long as the target was within twenty paces and in clear sight, the goblins could throw their hexes. The casting range itself didn’t affect potency in the slightest.

  After digesting all those earlier results, Viktor had decided it was time to run the experiment on the adventurers themselves. And the three involuntary volunteers—Pimm, Borin, and Audrey—had gotten the honor of serving as his guinea pigs.

  Through Celeste, he had instructed the goblins to cast their hexes one at a time, instead of doing it all at once. That way, he could track exactly which goblin’s spell landed on whom.

  “So, what is the result?”

  [Master, the man named Borin was affected after five casts. Pimm after three. The woman, Audrey, after eleven.]

  Five and three, huh? That made Borin slightly better than the gnolls in terms of resistance, while Pimm was a bit worse. It did fit the expected pattern.

  Of course, this was only a single test. He could not take these numbers at face value. There was always an element of chance, a random fluctuation that could skew the result. True statistics would need thousands of repetitions. Furthermore, even the twenty-five percent chance that had been recorded for the gnolls was just an average, a reflection of the sample that had participated in the test. Individuals, be they humans or gnolls or goblins, could vary widely in resistance.

  Still, the data had value. It gave him a baseline, a rough sense of what mattered.

  Therefore, Audrey’s result—eleven attempts—was very interesting. Unless she had been ridiculously lucky, it suggested her resistance to the curse was far higher than that of her companions. Practically on par with a Cyclops. If physical strength were the only determinant of resistance, this would make little sense.

  Perhaps... mages have better resistance than non-mages? Looked like he might need to get some mermaids and Acolytes to join the next round of testing.

  As for how long the curse actually lasted on each subject after it landed, unfortunately, it was hard to say. Borin had been swarmed by the goblins the moment he faltered, which muddied the observation. Pimm knocked himself senseless with his own fireball. And Audrey... well, she tried to crawl away instead of flying, though Viktor suspected that had less to do with fatigue and more with shock and panic.

  Still, imperfections aside, the experiment had proven the value of the hex specialists. With just twenty of them, backed up by a handful of regular goblins, he had effortlessly taken down a party of three adventurers—probably high-Iron to low-Silver level—with minimal casualties. The fight was almost one-sided.

  The element of surprise had been a decisive factor, of course. The trio had no idea what was going on until it was already too late. But such advantage would not last. Once word got out in the adventuring community about these hex users, they would definitely prepare, adapt, and develop countermeasures. It was fine, though. That was how the game was played anyway.

  “Has Orloth finished his little chat with our guest yet?” Viktor asked.

  [Yes, Master.]

  “And?”

  [It is exactly as you suspected. The red gems embedded in that man’s gauntlet were indeed created from the Reliquary known as the Mourning Woman.]

  “How did he get his hands on them, then?”

  [He claims he bought them from the black market.]

  Viktor raised an eyebrow. “The black market?”

  [Yes. The gems were originally produced for the Pseudo-Mage Corps of Arstenia. However, it appears that there are several individuals within the military who have been diverting them for personal profit.]

  Corruption, huh? Viktor let out a chuckle. Well, that was something old as time itself. Gave someone a position with access, plus the belief that no one was watching, and they would start embezzling before the chair was even warm. And it was not a problem exclusive to the military. Soldiers, priests, merchants, bureaucrats. They would all do the same when the opportunity was right.

  “Does he know how many of these gems are circulating? And how much do they cost?”

  [Primm doesn’t know for sure. He believes the seller he dealt with had hundreds, but there might be other vendors. As for the price, he paid one gold for each.]

  That expensive? But then, Viktor recalled that those gems were not single-use. Not unless someone decided to ram them into an explosive. If used normally, they could last a good long while.

  Damn, the blonde literally throws gold at her problems, huh?

  Anyway, those gems might come in handy. Not only for the dungeon, but also for him personally. He had gotten his Thaumaturgy back, yes, but he was capped at Level 10 at the moment, so a little extra firepower wouldn’t hurt.

  “Tell Orloth to plant one of his parasites in our new friend’s head,” Viktor said. “Then make sure that he understands what has happened, and what will happen if he betrays us or speaks a word about the dungeon to anyone.”

  [You are going to release him, Master?]

  “Yes. Tell him to gather as many gems as he can. Both the fire gems and the wind gems. He needs to return to the dungeon once per month with whatever amount he manages to collect. We’ll buy them from him at two gold a piece. Give him five hundred gold coins as advance payment.”

  [Understood. I will relay the orders to Orloth at once.]

  After a while, Celeste’s voice returned with an update.

  [It is done, Master. Pimm has largely complied with our demands. However, he claims that coming back here once per month is impossible. A round trip between Daelin and Arstenia could take months.]

  “Tell him to find a Riftwalker.” Viktor chuckled. There’s one in Daelin, last time I checked. “Tell him we’ll cover the transport fees as well.”

  [Yes, Master.]

  Viktor leaned back in his chair, stretching his body. He felt his muscles unwind, and the tightness slipped from his shoulders. A sense of satisfaction settled over him. After the long, tedious waiting game with Dagnar, the world had finally returned to its proper orbit.

  The gears were turning. The plan was moving forward. As long as nothing unexpected happened, things would only proceed smoothly from here.