Phong texted Dominic before the giant had even crossed state lines.
[Buy basil seeds.]
[And dill.]
[Lots.]
Three dots popped up almost at once.
[You opening an Italian restaurant underground?]
[Strategic herb diversification.]
[Sure. I'll grab extra.]
Phong could almost hear Dominic grinning through the phone.
He slipped it back into his pocket and looked out across the plains of Floor One.
The G7 conference had created a vacuum.
Surface elites were busy posturing.
Josh and Olen were busy networking.
Media attention was aimed upward.
Which meant the underground was quieter.
And quieter meant opportunity.
He sent a formal message through moletato couriers to the Greencap scouts.
The reply came the next day.
The Knight Captain arrived in person.
Level 47.
Green-cap crest polished.
A flame-horn wildebeest waited a short distance away.
They stood under the lime-oak tree.
Treants watched from the perimeter.
Lizardman sentries observed from the canal.
The Troll King's emissary stood nearby in silence.
A summit.
Phong laid out his proposal without dressing it up.
"The civilian rabbits move here."
The captain's whiskers twitched.
"To your camp."
"To the ordinary camp."
Phong pointed toward the decoy farm near the treant border.
"Surface soil mixed with dungeon dirt. Near human territory."
"The restriction stopping you from growing carrots in dungeon soil should not apply to surface dirt."
The captain thought that over.
"You would teach us."
"Yes."
"And we farm only when no humans are near."
"Yes."
"And in return?"
"Some of your cavalry move to hidden positions between the treants."
He pointed out the natural ambush corridors.
"Only when prompted."
The captain's eyes sharpened a little.
"You expect war."
"I expect stupidity," Phong corrected calmly.
"When my human enemies come…"
"They will meet a Greencap charge."
The captain's ears tilted back slightly.
Not hostile.
Just judging him.
"You play a dangerous game, farmer. Allying with us. 'Killer rabbits,' as your kind calls us."
Phong snorted.
"I planted war crimes. Danger sounds like Tuesday to me."
Silence hung there for a moment.
Then the captain gave a small nod.
"You are… not like the others."
Phong let out a soft breath through his nose.
"I'm not that great."
"You did not hunt civilians."
"That's basic decency."
"For your kind, it is uncommon."
He didn't argue.
He just held out his hand.
The captain tapped it lightly with one paw.
The alliance expanded.
Civilian rabbits began relocating within two days.
Small wagons.
Carrot crests fluttering gently.
They took over the ordinary dirt plots with brisk efficiency.
Disciplined.
Organized.
Already planning irrigation.
One scholar rabbit nearly cried when Phong explained crop rotation.
The dungeon restriction did not trigger on surface soil.
They could grow carrots.
Real ones.
Without system suppression.
It felt less like strategy.
More like liberation.
At the same time, hidden Greencap cavalry units quietly settled into the treant groves.
Lightning zebras learned tree-line paths.
Flame-horn beasts practiced charging from concealment.
The treants approved.
The lizardmen stayed neutral but watchful.
The trolls found the whole thing funny.
Floor One was no longer a bunch of loose factions.
It was structure.
Alex had watched all of this in silence.
Then one afternoon she walked straight up to the Knight Captain.
"Spar with me."
The captain tilted his head.
"You seek instruction."
"I seek improvement."
They cleared a space by the pond.
Janet crossed her arms and watched with interest.
Alex summoned her psychic rapier.
The blade shimmered into being.
Controlled.
Precise.
She moved beautifully.
Clean footwork.
HEMA drills carved into muscle memory.
The captain drew twin short blades.
Fast.
Compact.
The first exchange was just testing.
Alex used telekinesis to flick a small stone as a distraction.
The captain cut it out of the air.
"Predictable."
They engaged again.
This time Alex layered pressure.
Feints.
Psychic shove.
Mental blade acceleration.
The captain flowed around it.
Not stronger.
Not wildly faster.
Just composed.
At one point he stepped inside her guard and tapped her shoulder with the flat of his blade.
"Dead."
Alex lowered her rapier, breathing steady.
"Pointers."
The captain sheathed one blade.
"You rely on singular focus."
"I fight clean."
"You fight narrow."
Alex frowned slightly.
The captain went on.
"You are Mindblade."
He gestured around them.
"Yet you use one."
Her eyes sharpened.
"Explain."
"On Floor Two," the captain said carefully, "there is a human."
Phong and Alex traded a look at once.
The captain continued.
"She controls multiple floating blades and paper talismans at the same time."
No name spoken.
None needed.
Yue Ting.
Level 35 Taoist Master.
"She fights with distance and depth."
The captain pointed at Alex's rapier.
"You focus here."
Then he gestured outward in widening circles.
"You must fight here."
He drew quick lines in the dirt.
"Primary blade."
"Secondary control."
"Third defense."
"Fourth, ranged pressure."
Alex listened closely.
"You want me to control multiple weapons telekinetically."
"Yes."
"At the same time."
"Yes."
"And a shield."
"Yes."
Janet raised a brow.
The captain nodded.
"Offense from many angles."
"Defense without commitment."
"If you can do this," he added calmly, "you may become nearly unbeatable in a one-on-one."
He paused.
"Provided you do not challenge those far above your class."
Alex smirked.
"I try not to pick fights with floor bosses."
"Wise."
They sparred again.
This time Alex formed a second psychic blade.
Unsteady at first.
Split focus.
Her rapier control slipped.
The captain pressed at once.
Testing.
Punishing wasted motion.
Alex adjusted.
Pulled back.
Focused harder.
A third construct flickered into existence.
Rough.
But real.
Phong watched carefully.
Her potential visibly widened.
Not just stronger.
More layered.
More dangerous.
When they finally stopped, Alex was breathing harder.
But she was smiling.
"That was helpful."
The captain inclined his head.
"You are disciplined."
"And?"
"You lack breadth."
She nodded.
"I'll fix that."
As they walked back toward camp, Phong leaned closer.
"Multiple floating swords."
She bumped his shoulder.
"Don't sound so excited."
"I'm picturing you going into battle like a one-woman weapon rack."
She laughed softly.
"I'm picturing not needing anyone to guard my back."
He squeezed her hand.
"You already don't."
She squeezed back.
"Still."
Greencap banners fluttered near the decoy farm.
Carrot rows pushed up through surface soil.
Cavalry hid among the treants.
Basil and dill seeds were on the way.
And for the first time, Floor One wasn't reacting.
It was preparing.
Quietly.
Systematically.
Against enemies who still believed everything important happened on the surface.
Training became routine.
Not casual.
Structured.
Deliberate.
Alex rotated sparring partners like a fighter camp training for a title match.
Morning with Janet.
Midday with the Lizardman Vanguard Captain.
Evening with the Troll King.
And every few days, the Bunny Captain.
Under the shade of the lime-oak, she refined her constructs.
One.
Then two.
Then three.
At first, her second construct flickered.
Unstable.
Split focus leaking into bad control.
Now three psychic constructs hovered around her almost naturally.
Primary: her rapier. Precise. Surgical.
Secondary: a compact mace head, swung by telekinesis for blunt interruption.
Tertiary: a floating shield, shifting angles to intercept.
It changed the battlefield at once.
Janet's buff aura spread wide.
Valkyrie radiance boosting stamina, defense, and impact.
Normally that would tilt any fight.
But now Alex attacked from several angles at once.
Rapier from the front.
Mace threatening the side.
Shield cutting off counterplay.
Janet's win rate?
Zero.
"Again," Janet muttered after another clean disarm.
Alex lowered her constructs.
"You're too honest."
Janet wiped sweat from her brow.
"I buff. I dive. I hit things."
"And you're turning into a floating armory."
The Troll King came next.
Massive.
Uncompromising.
Fourteen spars so far.
Alex had won twice.
The first time had surprised even her.
The second was cleaner.
The Troll King laughed like thunder after it.
"You grow sharper, Mindblade."
"Still not enough," she answered.
"Good," he said. "Confidence dulls blade."
Against the Lizardman Vanguard Captain, she had three wins so far.
Those duels were quicker.
More technical.
He adapted well.
But she was starting to own the space between them.
Then there was the Bunny Captain.
Level 47.
Precision made flesh.
Alex had not beaten him once.
Not once.
Every match ended with the flat of his blade tapping her neck or chest.
"Dead."
He didn't overpower her.
He didn't outmuscle her.
He was simply efficient.
He wasted nothing.
He punished every overreach.
After one long exchange, he stepped back and lowered his blades.
"You progress."
"And?"
"You are still predictable when tired."
She nodded.
Not defensive.
Just taking it in.
Then the captain's expression shifted.
"Your kind now sees our rings and jewels as loot."
Alex's jaw tightened slightly.
He continued.
"They strip fallen knights. Sell our craft. Wear our honor."
She didn't argue.
"They hunt civilians," he added. "Profitable target."
His ears twitched once.
"Thanks to your farmer, Pioneer Squad Twelve's losses have decreased."
He inclined his head slightly.
"I lead that squad."
Alex glanced toward Phong across the clearing.
"He didn't do it for thanks."
"We know."
A pause.
"Still. We acknowledge it."
She inclined her head back.
Phong heard part of that conversation.
He pretended not to.
He also made a point of not lingering on one fact.
If this was Pioneer Squad Twelve, then there were at least eleven more units like it.
Level 47 captains.
Mounted cavalry.
Spread across Floor One.
If humans kept hunting civilians, Floor One would erupt.
Everywhere.
He let out a slow breath and looked elsewhere.
Preparation.
He started expanding Camp Stymphalian toward the Floor Two entrance.
Not visible.
Not obvious.
Just closer.
Shorter travel time.
Faster response.
A second perimeter.
Treants helped stabilize the roots.
Lizardmen extended irrigation lines.
Trolls moved stone slabs around like furniture.
If possible, he also wanted access to flame-horn wildebeests and lightning zebras as mounts.
If his team could ride, everything changed.
He hadn't asked yet.
But the thought was there.
Rico returned dramatically.
As expected.
Nyx and Bruno flanked him like cadets back from academy.
Bruno was bigger.
Noticeably.
Level 12 now.
Denser muscle.
Confidence rolling off him.
He could handle goblins and wolves alone now.
No panic.
No hesitation.
Phong handed him the ringmail and axe from the bunny trade.
Bruno held them carefully, eyes wide.
"For me?"
"For you."
The puppy, not really a puppy anymore, stood straighter.
Nyx came next.
Level 11.
Mana control much cleaner now.
Her casting no longer bled extra energy everywhere.
He handed her the rings and necklace.
They glowed faintly when she put them on.
She lifted her hands and tested her mana.
Output stabilized.
Controlled.
Her eyes sparkled.
"Thank you."
Then Rico crossed his arms.
"What about me?"
Phong blinked.
"You're a raccoon."
"And?"
"And you don't use weapons."
Rico scoffed with full drama.
"You think I came back empty-handed?"
He turned around slowly.
Something small clung to his back.
A young treant.
Thin.
Green.
Wrapped over his shoulders like a living harness.
With a sharp hand signal, Rico barked:
"Henshin!"
The treant reacted at once.
Roots spread.
Branches unfolded.
Wooden plating snapped over Rico's limbs and torso.
Mana pulsed.
Glowing veins lit up across the bark armor.
A helmet-like growth formed over his head, his ears sticking through neat little slits.
He struck a pose.
Full wooden armor.
Lightweight.
Alive.
Breathing mana.
Phong stared.
"…You built a tree mech."
Rico puffed up proudly.
"I negotiated a symbiotic partnership."
Nyx clapped.
Bruno howled in approval.
The treant armor shifted and adjusted smoothly with Rico's movements.
"I can grow spikes," Rico said proudly.
"And a shield."
"And glide short distance."
Phong folded his arms.
"…I'm jealous."
"Good," Rico replied smugly.
Then he struck another pose.
"Protector of Floor One!"
"Knock-off Kamen Rider," Phong muttered.
Rico gasped.
"How dare you."
Little Fireball chirped loudly from the tree branch, unimpressed.
Alex walked over, her constructs dissolving around her.
She took in the returning trio.
Armor.
Rings.
Levels gained.
All of them growing.
All of them evolving.
Camp Stymphalian no longer felt like a refuge.
It felt like a rising faction.
Alex looked at Phong.
"You're building something."
He didn't deny it.
"Preparation."
"For what?"
He looked toward the distant plains.
Toward the second entrance.
Toward a future clash that hadn't happened yet.
"For when they stop playing politics and start playing war."
Alex nodded slowly.
Her three psychic constructs flickered back into place for a moment, hovering around her shoulders like silent guards.
Nearby, a raccoon in living wood armor practiced combat rolls.
A barbarian puppy swung a bunny-forged axe with clumsy enthusiasm.
A young sorcerer cat tested mana control with her new jewelry.
And under the lime-oak tree, a level 1 farmer stood quietly at the center of it all.
He couldn't say he wasn't proud.
He also couldn't say he wasn't getting ready for the day when pride would not be enough.