Chapter Nineteen: Summoning, the Slayer of Populations!

While the Black Onyx Stone City was making feverish preparations, Jen was hardly idle either. The dark elf believed Jen was courting death, but he himself thought otherwise. True, attacking merchant caravans would inevitably attract the attention of powerful forces—a troublesome affair for any denizen of the Underdark. Yet, everything has two sides. For Jen, the aftermath was of little concern for now; what mattered most was that, at last, he had amassed enough materials for summoning. Wasn’t that the most important thing?

“What a nuisance…”

Gazing at the resource quantities displayed by the system, Jen shook his head and sighed. His decision to raid the caravans had been made with a single purpose: to stockpile sufficient materials for summoning creatures beyond the necromantic. In his previous battle with the mind flayers, Jen had observed that the banshees served well enough in support, but when it came to direct confrontation, ghostly entities were of little real use.

Thus, he needed to summon other races to help defend the dungeon!

“So, what should I summon…”

Standing before the summoning crystal, Jen squinted at the dim light glimmering from its facets, weighing his resources as he muttered to himself.

As a veteran player, Jen understood well the relationship between dungeon resources and summoned monsters. Each resource possessed unique properties, and the type of summoned creature varied depending on the amounts invested.

For example, ore represented physical attack and defense. The more ore one used, the more likely the summoned creature would excel in brute force.

Quicksilver stood for magical attack and defense; a greater investment there would yield a summoning specialized in magic.

Gems indicated the summoned creature’s special constitution, though this did not mean physical strength per se, but rather the uniqueness of its form. The more gems invested, the more likely an unusual variant would emerge. When Jen summoned banshees previously, he had used fifteen gems, which resulted in spectral monsters.

Lastly, crystals represented the summoned creature’s “appetite,” as well as its rarity. Generally, when uncertain, players tended to err on the side of excess, funneling as many crystals as possible—since rare creatures, as a rule, consumed more. Of course, if one’s luck was abysmal, there was always the chance of summoning a dungeon mascot instead. Beyond that, appetite was also entwined with the physical attributes of the summoned creature: feed it too little, and the beast would be frail. This, too, demanded careful attention.

Additionally, players could use [Wood] and [Sulfur] to modify certain attributes. More wood meant a higher chance of summoning surface or elven creatures. More sulfur, on the other hand, increased the probability of abyssal fiends.

His earlier decision to summon banshees had been born of necessity. Goblins, the dungeon system’s default monsters, were good for nothing but digging and mining, with the fighting prowess of a wet rag. Thus, banshees, as offensive undead, had become Jen’s natural choice. But now, after robbing five caravans in succession, Jen was well-fed and clothed, having attained a modest prosperity—his standards had naturally risen.

[Dungeon Resource Inventory: Ore (5600), Quicksilver (3800), Gem (2000), Crystal (6000)]

[Special Resources: Sulfur (300), Wood (5)]

“Should I go big… no, should I make a grand summon?”

Narrowing his eyes at the readout, Jen reached up to adjust his glasses, murmuring under his breath.

Such was the perennial flaw of players: once in possession of ample resources, the urge to test one’s luck became irresistible—even though Jen had already tweaked his rare summon rate to one hundred percent. After all, even among rare creatures, there were those blessed by fortune and those plagued by misfortune.

“Forget it, better to follow the usual path.”

In the end, Jen restrained himself—not that he had a choice. Only by upgrading the dungeon to level three and transforming the summoning crystal into the Dark Sanctuary could he attempt a grand summon. For now, it simply wasn’t possible.

With that thought, Jen shook his head and raised his hand. At his gesture, the crystal’s glow brightened, dazzling as ever. Moments later, the system interface flashed before his eyes.

[Summoning crystal activated. Please insert materials.]

Now that he had support banshees, it was time to summon something adept at close combat. Ore would be the primary ingredient.

[Ore (500) inserted]

As for magic… creatures of the Underdark generally boasted high magic resistance; low-level spells were all but useless. A token amount would suffice.

[Quicksilver (100) inserted]

Constitution, of course, should be as high as possible. Whatever the summoned beast, the more mutated, the stronger—a truth universally acknowledged by players.

[Gem (350) inserted]

Appetite must neither be too low nor too high. Too little, and the creature would be frail; too much, and he couldn’t afford to feed it.

[Crystal (150) inserted]

As for [Sulfur] and [Wood]… better to save those for a grand summon.

[Resource selection complete. Proceed with summoning?]

Summon!

Watching the system prompt, Jen nodded firmly.

A deep hum filled the chamber as the crystal’s radiance intensified. The air shivered, spatial ripples unfurled, and soon, a rift yawned open between the three crystal pillars. Jen fixed his gaze upon its depths, awaiting the birth of a new summon. At that moment, a guttural sound echoed from within.

A deep, resonant roar.

Damn it!

That sound was all too familiar—Jen’s eyelid twitched involuntarily. Could it be…?

Thud… thud…

Before he could ponder further, heavy footsteps resounded. Out from the rift strode a hulking, pitch-black figure.

They stood between two and three meters tall, their whole bodies obsidian. At a glance, they appeared humanoid, but their forelimbs were far more powerful than any human’s, with elongated, sinewy bones.

Their bodies were sheathed in an armor-like exoskeleton, beneath which rippled taut, knotted muscles. Tubes resembling veins coiled along their frames, and a long, barbed tail swung soundlessly behind them, as supple as a whip, undulating like the tail of a fish gliding through water.

But the most striking feature was their heads: eyeless, elongated skulls stretching back over their spines, more like the canopy of a fighter jet than any animal. When they opened their mouths, viscous drool streamed between razor-sharp teeth, pattering to the ground below.

“What are these…”

Even Enoya, standing nearby, could not help but widen her eyes in astonishment. She could sense the overwhelming aura of murder exuding from these black monstrosities. They were living engines of destruction, the likes of which not even the demon realm had ever produced.

But unlike the astonished Enoya, Jen, scanning the creature’s data, wore an expression of wild delight.

[Xenomorph (Silver Elite SR-1)]

[Number: Three]

[Level: 1]

[Attack: ★★]

[Defense: ★☆]

[Special Ability: Xenomorph Parasitism (given a few days, they could wipe out an entire planet—Production +30)]

[Special Ability: Autonomous Evolution (Blood is the currency of the soul, flesh its vessel—Self-evolving)]

Xenomorphs! Actual xenomorphs?!

Although Jen knew he could summon rare creatures with absolute certainty, he had never expected to summon xenomorphs. Their presence in the dungeon system, however, was no surprise. The game itself had partnered with numerous companies, and on its anniversary, the dungeon had indeed introduced limited-edition Gold and Silver Xenomorphs to entice players into spending.

Still, Jen could hardly believe he had actually summoned such a thing!

To be fair, xenomorphs were perfectly suited to dungeons. Any player who had seen the films knew their specialty: hunting prey within dark, twisting corridors. In the Underdark, such places were everywhere—a veritable paradise for xenomorphs. Even three of them could rival an elite, well-armed military unit.

Alas, this summon came with a fatal flaw—its infamous nickname: “Population Killer.”

A dungeon’s population cap was finite. Now that Jen’s dungeon was level two, he could only summon a maximum of twenty of each species; exceeding that risked catastrophic collapse. That was why, after summoning the banshees, Jen had chosen not to call up more. The number of summons was fixed: the banshee squad, for instance, took up ten out of twenty undead slots, and though they could convert other undead, they would not do so without Jen’s command.

But xenomorphs were different. Everyone knew that besides killing, xenomorphs loved to breed, and their numbers increased geometrically. Leave a single one on a spaceship, and within days, you’d have an infestation.

Jen had once seen a forum post: during an event, a lucky player summoned a Gold Xenomorph and boasted about it online. Two days later, he returned in despair—the creature’s destructive prowess was matched only by its fecundity, and in no time at all, his thirty “aberrant creature” slots were completely occupied by a horde of xenomorphs. He couldn’t summon anything else and nearly died of frustration.

Fortunately, the developers patched this bug, making it so that only an upgraded Xenomorph Queen could allow further population growth. Players simply had to promote one to queen, and their slots would be safe from being devoured. Thus, the nickname “Population Killer” stuck. Though only three stood before Jen now, who knew—by morning, there could be twenty scurrying around his feet.

“Are they really that formidable?”

After Jen’s explanation, Enoya frowned, scrutinizing the xenomorphs before her. For now, they sat obediently on the ground like puppies, “looking” up at the pair. Clearly, toward their summoner, these “little blacks” were quite docile.

“Of course.”

Jen nodded, a faint smile curving his lips.

“But seeing is believing. Allow me to show you just how fearsome they truly are…”