Chapter 1423 – Safe Haven

How do the Krath regard each other? There’s a very simple answer to that question: we don’t know.

As far as the Magio-Scholars of the Tower are aware, there has never been a successful capture and interrogation of a Krath. Not even a cursory mind reading, since such things are impossible to perform through the mana of the fifth, which degrades everything that attempts to move through it, even magic.

As violent and as brutal as they are, we have to imagine that the Krath treat each other somewhat poorly. It’s difficult to imagine the Krath engaging in trade, for example, where trust and equivalent exchange are necessary for the practice to flourish.

However, one truth must be considered above all others: in the most hostile environment in the Dungeon, the Krath not only survive, but thrive.

Surely this wouldn’t be possible without some level of cooperation between them.

– Excerpt from ‘The Savage Tribes,” By Magio Scholar Erinus.

“You were actually telling the truth,” Zluth grunted before spitting a dark glob of acid onto the stone floor. It sizzled pleasantly, emitting a thick, acrid smoke that tickled the Krath.

“If you don’t tell the truth every now and again, no one will ever believe your lies,” Goszi said wisely, his eyes betraying his glee.

“Are you that pleased, you old slug?” Zluth said.

“Of course. I get to live, after all. Gugugugugugug!”

Chortling away, Goszi moved away to claim a space for himself before the best homes could be taken.

Despite the length of time the Slimeground had been unoccupied, it was in surprisingly good condition, no doubt due to the cunning location the Suggoth had chosen to build it. Despite being relatively in the open, the entrance had been woven into the fold of the tunnel so well it had been almost invisible, an opening only ten centimetres across, just enough for a full-sized adult Krath to squeeze through. Then, winding tunnels concealed the cavern within behind dozens of metres of thick rock.

Even Zluth had to admit it was clever.

“Krath’lath,” a voice called, and Zluth tried to conceal the moment it took to recognise they were speaking to him by turning slowly to face them, with dignity.

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“Trissith, what seems to be the problem?” he asked.

A young Krath, but full of hunger and ambition, as all Krath should be, Trissith had been acting under him as part of the scouts.

“The Slimeground appears to be secure, Krath’lath,” she reported, her voice bubbling savagely.

“And what of the captives?”

“They’ve been secured, as you instructed.”