Void System: Every Heroine Makes Me Stronger

The registrar turned toward the road.

Severin stepped out of the shelter with her. Behind him, Tressa told someone to pull the blanket away from the worker’s mouth. She did not follow.

The registrar glanced back once. "She saw the dungeon gate appear?"

"She has 2 patients. The 4 field workers are coming."

"Then I don’t need her here."

They crossed Mereford by the cart road. The village had not stopped for the dungeon. Smoke rose from cookfires. A hammer struck behind a shed. People looked up as Severin passed with the woman in the dark mantle, then returned to work more slowly than before.

Thin stakes marked the field beyond the last fence.

Fifteen low shapes lay beneath rough coverings where the beasts had fallen. The horse was gone, but a broken cart shaft and grain ground into the mud still marked the first attack.

Two villagers kept watch beside the road. One lifted a hand when he saw Severin.

The messenger arrived behind them with the other 3 workers. The older woman who kept Mereford’s village chest and books walked at their center, neither hurrying nor asking anyone to wait for her.

The registrar set her leather case on the cart’s surviving wheel.

"Who moved the bodies?"

"No one," the messenger said. "We covered them and drove the stakes where they fell."

"All 15 are still inside those marks?"

A broad-shouldered worker pointed across the field. "Seven from the first rush. Eight after he went through the gate. We count them every time the watch changes."

The registrar lifted the nearest covering with a gloved hand. Dark plates caught the late light. She checked another body farther along the line, then a third near the dungeon gate. She left the rest covered.

"Who saw the gate rise?"

Three men answered. The fourth raised a mud-stained hand.

She chose the man nearest the broken shaft. "Tell me what happened before anyone went inside."

He told her about the stone doors rising from the ground, the horse screaming, and the first beasts hitting the cart. His account wandered once toward the driver. The registrar brought him back with a question about where the doors had appeared.

The second worker confirmed that Severin reached the field after the dungeon gate appeared and before anyone crossed it. The third named him as the first man to enter. The messenger gave the hour he had left for Greycross and the road he had taken.

The registrar looked between them. "Did any of you go through the doors?"

"No," the messenger said.

"Did the System give any of you the dungeon’s name or Rank?"

They shook their heads.

"Did Severin Morcant threaten you, buy your silence, or steal another discoverer’s map?"

The broad-shouldered worker gave her a flat look. "There was no map. There was a cart on its side and those things trying to eat us."

A corner of the registrar’s mouth moved. "That answers it."

She turned to Severin. "Name and Rank."

"Faultroot Warren. Rank E."

The dungeon gate stood open behind the covered bodies. Two stone doors rose without a wall to hold them. Darkness filled the space between them.

The registrar closed her leather case but left it on the wheel. "I’ll step inside and see whether the System gives me the same answer."

She crossed the marked ground. One boot passed between the stone doors. Then the other.

Severin stayed outside, close enough to reach her before anything from the first bend could reach the field.

Her eyes fixed on empty air for a moment. Whatever the System showed her remained hers alone.

She stepped back onto the grass.

"Faultroot Warren. Rank E. It matches."

The older woman released a quiet breath. The worker nearest the cart repeated the name under his breath and looked at the dungeon gate again.

The registrar reopened her case. "You said you cleared it. What is still inside?"

"The guardian is dead. Two smaller dungeon beasts moved away from my path. Two other beasts are dead inside. I did not search every tunnel."

"No guardian body?"

"No."

Her pen stopped above the sheet. "Did you take or damage the Dungeon Core?"

"No. It is still in place."

"Has anything else come out?"

The messenger answered. "Nothing we’ve seen. Someone has watched the doors for 3 days."

The registrar wrote for several breaths. "Then I record it as cleared, not closed. The Core remains. At least 2 beasts are still alive inside. No new beast has been seen outside since the second attack."

"Accurate," Severin said.

She looked at him over the page. "You don’t need a Hunter badge to own the dungeon. Greycross can test you if you want an official Hunter Rank before you hire parties or sell entry."

"No."

"Then the dungeon goes into the Guild book without a Hunter Rank beside your name."

A public Rank would tell strangers where to begin measuring him. The bodies already told them enough.

The registrar moved to the next blank line. "Before I write the owners, does any witness here want a share?"

"No," the messenger said.

The broad-shouldered worker shook his head. "We saw it rise. He went inside."

The other 2 refused in turn.

"Has anyone who isn’t here demanded a share?" the registrar asked.

"No one," Severin said.

"Then give me the names and portions."

"Severin Morcant, 90%. Mereford, 10%."

Silence held for a breath.

The older woman looked at Severin, then at the registrar. "Is that 10% payment for these men?"

"No," Severin said. "Their wages are separate. Mereford owns 1 part in 10 of the dungeon."

The registrar set her pen to the next line. "Who decides who enters, what is sold, and whether the Core is touched?"

"I do."

The older woman considered him. "Mereford accepts the 10%. We are not claiming the dungeon gate."

"And the field?" one worker asked.

The registrar pointed with the end of her pen. "This paper gives him the dungeon. It gives him no right to the field, the road, the well, or the spring. Those must be settled separately."

The older woman frowned at the covered bodies. "Why give Mereford a share, then?"

"Your people live beside the dungeon gate," Severin said. "If the dungeon earns coin, Mereford earns coin. I would rather have the village watching strangers than helping them strip it."

Buying every warning, cart, and pair of eyes beside the gate would cost him more than 10%.

The older woman looked from the bodies to the stone doors. "Fair enough."

The registrar asked, "Who keeps Mereford’s coin and records?"

The older woman touched 2 fingers to her chest. "I keep the village chest and the books."

The registrar looked to the workers. "Do all 4 of you name her to receive Mereford’s share?"

The messenger answered first. "Yes."

The broad-shouldered man nodded. "She keeps the repair money and the winter stores."

The third said, "We know where every Copper goes because she tells us twice."

"Once when you ask," the older woman said, "and once when you pretend you forgot."

The fourth worker gave her a brief nod.

The registrar wrote 2 matching sheets and read the wording aloud.

"Discovery Claim for Faultroot Warren, Rank E. Severin Morcant owns 90%. Mereford owns 10%. Severin Morcant alone decides entry, sales, and what happens to the Dungeon Core. The Guild owns no share. This claim gives no right to the surrounding field, road, or water."

Severin signed both sheets. The older woman signed beneath Mereford’s 10%, and the 4 witnesses added names or marks below them. The registrar sealed both sheets with dark wax and the same small metal stamp.

"Accepted," she said. "The Guild copy goes into the Greycross book."

The wax darkened as it cooled.

She handed one sealed sheet to Severin and returned the other to her leather case.

Severin kept his copy in his hand. Anyone who tried to take the dungeon now had to challenge a sealed Guild record and the witnesses standing beside it.

The registrar closed the clasps. "Greycross can send appraisers, find buyers, and help you hire Hunter parties. Send word when you are ready."

"After I decide the rules."

A man shouted from the village road before the witnesses could leave.

He came at a run, one trouser leg wet to the knee. "The water in the north well rose. Two hand-widths since morning. But the spring past the east field is barely running."

The older woman turned. "It was normal yesterday."

The registrar looked toward the dungeon gate.

Severin looked at the mud on the man’s leg instead. "Who measured the well?"

"My wife marked it. The bucket touched water 2 hand-widths early."

"Mark it again now. Bring her and whoever drew from the spring at dawn. No one digs, diverts, or clears either water source before I see them."

The man nodded and ran back toward Mereford.

Severin turned toward the north well, the sealed claim still in his hand.