Forgotten Dungeon

Uno

The longears arrived unseen, their stealthy troops making short work of the sentries that the Fallen Tribes horde had dispatched. Well, calling the random assortment of the lesser races anything like guards was a stretch in itself, but then again they fulfilled this role with surprisingly high effectiveness.

I was sure that the rangers wearing the green and brown armor would get discovered soon, considering that the horde didn’t lack monsters with a superior sense of smell. Yet somehow their advance was unhindered, long, straight daggers reaping life after life.

Even so, they stopped once the stragglers were taken care of, as the rest of the sleeping enemies were in groups far too big to quietly overwhelm. Only a few hundred were left on the surface now, about the same amount surging angrily through various parts of my dungeon. My first and second floors contained small, wary groups of monsters wandering through and occasionally battling against my creations. A surprisingly large part of their number was concentrated near the place where the humans holed up, the Colosseum, and a newly dug-out tunnel turned into a bloody battlefield.

I was wondering what the elves were up to, these two hundred soldiers getting on my nerves like Damocles’ sword. My few remaining cameras were stretching their half-biological stems to survey the surface. It didn’t take long to notice the commotion - a few richly clothed elves were vehemently arguing with an important-looking girl. Somehow they managed to do it in relative silence too. Color me impressed.

The said girl had long, blonde hair curled into locks and a pair of piercing, neon-green eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. Her small body was clad in greenish-blue leather armor. I ascertained it was a magic item of some kind, mostly after seeing the seams shift lazily every few seconds. She wore a leather helmet too, complete with boots and sturdy pants, while a wooden wand rested in a belt loop on her thin waist.

Currently, she was listening to the other people's arguments with a bored expression on her pretty face. I could barely hear them, but it didn’t matter anyway. They were using a foreign language I was not privy to. I guess my constant contact with humans had me at a disadvantage when it came to other races.

Just behind the bored blonde, a large, no, more like - gigantic - man was standing quietly, his blue eyes surveying the surroundings with a calm sense of caution. He was clad in leather armor strengthened with metal plates, a bit different from the people surrounding him, but that wasn’t the source of the incongruity he emanated.

Only after a few minutes, I understood what was so strange about him. All the people around had sharp, knife-like ears... but not the giant! That’s what it was! A human amongst elves. Rarity. And, considering the disdainful glances thrown in his direction every few moments, the other people weren’t entirely pleased with his presence. He ignored them splendidly though, not wasting any attention on the surrounding soldiers, instead of focusing more on the outside.

Not much was visible under his armor, but what flesh peeked out was scarred and tough, like the man himself. A veteran. His weapons of choice were a sword and shield combo, right now both hidden in their sheaths.

The quarrel between the girl and the other elves didn’t look like it would end soon, so I shifted my attention downstairs, to observe the human underground encampment.

A constant battle raged in a small and now damp corridor, which was technically no longer a part of my domain. The monsters were mostly getting slaughtered, orcs or lizardmen no match for a few powerful human fighters remaining. From time to time a bolt of magic or a blast of otherworldly energy cut off the constant stream of challengers, making sure that the defenders had at least some respite.

A small, slender man in a red bandana was currently fighting, his butcher’s cleaver carving chunks of meat out of attackers. He laughed loudly staring at the incoming enemies. His clothes were splattered with red blood, both fresh and old and a few cuts marred his muscular body. A desire for blood and battle emanating from him was a clear deterrent to the advancing monsters, but also his own troops.

The few remaining human soldiers and adventurers were already pale, their dead eyes and slow movements a clear sight of exhaustion. Most of all the fear they felt - both because of the boisterously laughing man and the advancing horde - was clearly visible on their faces.

“Come! Come, fuckers! Join us in this bloody dance!” Shouted the man in the red bandana, his sudden voice startling both his allies and enemies. “My blade wasn't fed enough today! Neither was I! Come and quench our thirst!” He continued.

The monsters stopped in their tracks, trying to decide who would be the courageous one to lead the advance. For a few seconds, a silence ruled over this small piece of hell... until a roar resounded from the back.

Something big was starting to make its way toward the defenders, monsters howling in elation… until they understood that for the new champion to appear their own lives had to be forfeited.

The tunnel wasn’t big enough to let it safely plow through, after all.

With a sound of exertion, one of the orcs was pushed forward, tumbling down in the process. And another one, and another after that. Each of them met their end under the human’s blades and spears. Their howls turned resentful, forced to die without purpose.

And then it appeared.

A large, obese monster that once resembled an orc - but not anymore. It has lost its tusks, the green color it was born with faded long ago. What remained was a mass of flesh, vibrating with each step it took. Pale flesh, with visible folds of fat underneath, was slapping against each other. Plop, plop, plop. Unlike the champion’s sickly-looking skin, its hands had turned into fearsome weapons - enlarged, serrated claws made from bone. The beast raised its arm, letting the claws touch the walls and amidst screeching noise, a long scar appeared on the rock.

“Damn, our weapons weren’t even able to scratch that...” Mumbled one of the adventurers in a fearful daze.

The orc champion roared once again, sending the remaining monsters into a frenzy, as they rushed forward, practically throwing themselves at the defenders' blades. Yet, as was the case when attacking without considering one’s safety, their reckless charge managed to kill and maim three out of eight warriors in the room. The screams of the wounded filled the air as the bandana-wearing man commanded.

“Get the wounded to the healers! This bitch is mine!” A wild, wide smile appeared on his face. “Come here, fatty! I wonder how you’ll taste!” As if to emphasize his words he licked the butcher’s cleaver comfortably resting in his right hand. A large amount of blood ended up in his mouth, enraging the opponent and pushing the human forces for a quick retreat.

“Guild Master Lois really lost it, huh?” One of the escaping soldiers scowled, only to get reprimanded by his companion.

“Shut it! Do you want to end up as an unnecessary casualty like that one guy before?” Hearing the adventurer’s words, the disgruntled warrior only shook his head in silence.

Right, that was the bandana-guy name - Lois! The new Guild Master of the Adventurers Guild. I knew I had seen this man somewhere before… Ah, but then again his figure was much more gallant at that time, not to mention he wasn’t fighting like a maniac.

Not my business though.

With the butcher’s cleaver in one hand and a sting-like dagger in the other, he waited for the fat orc champion to fully emerge from the tunnel. A useless, but gentlemanly move - that was what I thought at first.

Then, as soon as the pale monstrosity breathed in to roar its challenge - he struck. The long and thin dagger easily delved into the monster's stomach - only to get stuck.

Lois retreated immediately, leaving the weapon stuck inside.

This time it was the monster who laughed, slapping its flabby stomach and jumping forward with speed unbecoming its mass. The human Guild Master wasn’t taken by surprise, though. He deftly avoided the incoming claws, retreating a few meters to the back.

“Throw me some daggers, people!” He ordered not even looking back. “We’ll be having some skewers tonight!”

The men complied - swords, daggers, and even spears thrown into the impromptu ring. Lois laughed loudly, picking up a rather heavy-looking sword. He swung it around with one hand, swishing noises showing how much strength was contained in this thin frame of his.

Pale orc roared in anger, not understanding the contents of the speech, but clear on the mocking tone. It charged forward, once again trying to kill the annoyingly buzzing fly. This time however Lois wasn’t content with just avoidance. His silhouette flashed and disappeared, only to emerge behind the monster.

“A little appetizer, for now!” He laughed again, chopping down on the flabby flesh. The new sword cut deep inside the beast’s back, but in the end, it didn’t manage to sever it. Lois grunted, forcing it even deeper, only to get swatted by a large arm.

He flew away, bouncing back from the chamber’s wall. Then, for a long moment, he was just lying there, while the pale orc roared in delight. Blood started to pool nearby, while the soldiers and adventurers under his command looked at each other, before nodding deeply.

“He might be a son of a bitch…”

“And a dastardly fucker!”

“But he saved my life more times I can remember!”

“Brothers, with me! Save the Guild Master!”

Their screams were cut short when with a grunt, Lois lifted his battered body.

“Don’t kill me off just yet, boys!” A grin escaped his lips. He licked his bloodied arm. “Salty. Now, let’s pay you back, fatty!” He roared back his words of defiance and the soldiers responded in kind.

“ENOUGH!” A loud voice shattered their celebration.

It was Charles, the noble leading these survivors. His red hair and eyes were alight with magic. “Fireball.” A large ball of flame flew forward, staggering the beast and scorching its flesh. “Firebomb.” Magical energy landed on the ground, soaking the stone. The fat orc roared in confusion. “Fireball.” Another flame soared through the air and exploded. This time however the enemy was prepared, shielding his scalded face with pale arms. The attack still did some damage but didn’t manage to stop it from moving. With another roar, the champion charged. Charles mumbled under his nose, seemingly ignoring the advancing enemy.

“Hey, hey! Look out!” Lois couldn’t stop himself from screaming.

It seemed however that the red-haired noble planned for this attack. As soon as the fat orc stepped on a stone a few meters away the magic that soaked it suddenly activated. For a split second, I could see a complicated magical circle appearing and then an explosion pretty much cut and maimed the monster’s legs. Just like an anti-infantry mine would.

The orc roared in pain, slowly dragging its body towards the chanting mage, still stubbornly clinging to life.

“Greater Fireball.” He finished the chant and a large ball of flames appeared in his palms. A moment later he threw it unhesitatingly, betraying the solemn grace of a person already used to decimating his foes. The orc was swallowed by the fire and turned into ashes without any ceremony.

Like a tense battle that Lois had to go through was just a lie.

Then, in one swift motion, he turned back to the tunnel, where the next wave of monsters was already coming. Seeing the decimation they staggered though, casting fearful glances on a powerful human fire mage.

This was a mistake on their part. Charles mumbled under his nose again, quickly unleashing another powerful magic.

“Wall of Flames.”

Instantly the tunnel was filled with fire, burning and killing any monsters inside. As I expected it didn’t create a single-tile horizontal blockade. No. Instead, it started at the entrance of the tunnel and ended just before the defensive chamber. It was perpendicular…

Ingenious.

“I never grow bored of these magics of yours, Charles.” Mumbled Lois through his bloodied mouth.

“And I believe, Guild Master Lois, that we had a deal.” The red-haired noble answered in a cold tone, making his companion twitch uncomfortably for a moment.

“Hey, hey, I didn’t know they’d send a champion this early.”

“But they sent it. And, according to our defensive strategies I was to be informed of such intrusion.” The mage continued. “May I remind you that while you were playing games our men were dying?” His voice trembled for a moment. “May I remind you…”

“Charles, Charles…” The Guild Master interrupted, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Charles!” His words snapped the mage's attention to himself. “I was not playing games. You and Master Vincent are our aces in the sleeve, but… look at you.” He pointed towards the mage.

It was only now that I noticed that the noble eyes had been not only red but also bloodied from a lack of sleep. He was swaying on his feet, trying to keep straight and proper.

“Look at you, friend. You need to rest.” Lois continued in a quiet tone. “How much did you sleep through these two weeks? A few hours? A day, maybe?”

“It was enough.” The red-haired mage stubbornly refused. “I leveled up, so…”

“No! Believe me, I know that leveling up fills you with power, but it doesn’t replace a need for sleep!” The slim man grabbed the mage by his shoulders. “Go to sleep! We’ll manage!”

“I…”

“For Bella’s sake! Please!” The Guild Master bowed and remained in that posture. The soldiers and adventurers behind him heard the whole conversation and their voices echoed Lois’ sentiment.

“Please, sir!”

“We’ll manage!”

“For the Geinard Kingdom!”

“Believe us and rest, sire!”

“Sir!”

Seeing the whole room bowing Charles sighed loudly while combing his red hair with an impatient hand.

“Yes, yes, I heard you… I’ll go.” He frowned. “But remember to call me when something powerful comes through. We cannot… fail.” He stumbled only to get caught by a few adventurers. “The wall will burn for about half an hour. Prepare accordingly.” Charles added while slowly returning to his quarters.

After he left a silence ruled the defensive chamber. It was Lois who broke it.

“Get the wounded out of here! Ask the tenders for water and food!”

“And change the shift!” A new voice appeared from behind him.

“Molan!” Lois laughed loudly, seeing the once-proper captain of the Geinard Kingdom army, Molan Duree, casually walking through the tunnel, flanked by his subordinates. The prim and proper soldier was wearing a damaged uniform, yet somehow managed to stay clean in this hellhole.

“Hello, Lois.” The man nodded seriously, before laughing loudly. “You should take care of yourself, before reprimanding our fire-wielding maniac.”

“What are you talking about?” Frowned the Guild Master.

“It was our turn to stand guard two hours ago.”

“It’s not a competition.”

“Yes, but remember that these shifts were assigned this way to let the common soldiers rest.” He squinted. “I’m not talking about monsters like you.”

“What are you…”

“You nearly took on a champion by yourself, didn’t you?” The man grinned.

“Yup.” A similar grin appeared on Lois' face.

“Then, how’s leveling?” A quiet question.

“Close to level tenth.” An even quieter answer.

“Good!” Molan clapped his back, then spoke out loudly. “We’re taking over!” Then he added even louder. “Let’s show these folk how the army does things, boys!”

“““Yes, sir!””” A choir of voices answered.

Interesting.

On the surface, it would seem like the obstacles on their path forced the sentients to come together and fight for their collective survival. To abandon preconceptions and fears while presenting a united front to the enemy.

It was only on the surface, though.

While the soldiers fought the civilian population was forced to live in squalor and manage on the pitiful rations. Food was after all reserved for those who defend them.

No matter how sheep-like the common man was he would turn rabid once forced into a corner. Through my rats, I felt the masses shift. Women cradling their children and asking their husbands for salvation. Cold and cruel beatings were administered to those who dared to speak out.

I had heard the whispers in the dark.

I had heard the murmurs of food and weapons going missing.

I had seen the new tunnels being built - away from the defensive line, deeper into the wall, and then - up. Always up.

But their tireless escape had been blocked - by me. More escape tunnels breaching the surface meant more entrances - something that I wasn’t too keen on. To prevent that I focused on growing the roots of my silvery trees. Yes, they were cut down to build the defensive outpost, but nobody bothered with pulling out the stumps.

Any mana that I managed to gather and wasn’t immediately funneled back into my defenses was sent over to the root network. The plants grew sturdier, their aboveground parts changing to accommodate this evolution.

The Silver Ironbarks they were called once, were large trees with dangerous leaves. Some of them remained - too far from the former outpost to be used by the workers. They grew even now, left to their own devices. But many more were destroyed, their flesh used in sentient’s constructions.

Over these few days, I had forced them to grow, to stay alive. Their network expanded and intertwined, covering the ground with steel-like growths, just below the surface. No more drilling holes in my dungeon! No more people simply digging to reach me!

There were two unexpected changes to the plant itself, though.

One was pretty minor - the root network accepted my other creations, giving space and sometimes even sustenance to grow them. However, this treatment didn’t cover plants like wheat, rice, or whatever other food was normally grown in the Geinard Kingdom. This meant that the experiments with Ratling agriculture had to be moved forward in time.

The second one rather baffled me. The remains of Silver Ironbarks turned into natural traps - the stump simply dissolved into a flat, circular plate directly connected to the roots. Innocuous, right? Except that when something - or somebody - stepped on it a large number of spikes would appear, skewering the victim and thus allowing the plant to feed. I decided to call it Spike Sundew, due to how it reminded me of this certain insect-eating plant.

Copper Grass often grew nearby, covering the otherwise easy-to-spot flat surface of the plant. After a few successful hunts, the bodies of the fallen were additional bait, so I left the Spike Sundews alone, happy with another way to thin out the attacking horde.

Well, here I was, going off-tangent again.

The point was - these humans weren’t going to hurt me like that again. The mana on the first floor was still thin, but the additional entrances were healing. Slowly. An invisible membrane was forming over them, retaining most of the spent energy.

I guessed that something similar must’ve happened when I explosively made my surface entrance, but now I had an opportunity to observe how it all worked - in slow motion too! That said I was still far away from creating a dome, or a magical equivalent of it (a barrier maybe?) and thus conquering the surface.

But a Dungeon Core can dream, right?

A few more hours had passed and the elves came to an agreement.

Their forces started to move towards the human encampment. The proud elf girl said a few harsh words but lifted her hands in a gesture of surrender. At least that was universal. A moment later she left with her human in tow.

Once the decision was undertaken the silent warriors attacked without warning. Most of the monsters died in their sleep, rarely getting up and screaming before being cut down anyway. This, of course, woke the remainder of the invasion force but seeing the elves eliminating their comrades in a professional fashion was too much. The monsters broke away and ran.

The longears didn’t pursue.

What happened afterward was the bloody and tiring work of clearing the eastern tunnel and contacting the humans. Once the survivors heard the sounds of battle their morale had returned and an attacking force was immediately formed.

Hours later the last monster was dead and the warriors and mages were wading through a mixture of invader’s flesh and blood reaching up to their ankles. In these circumstances, a meeting between Geinard Kingdom forces and the elven expedition came to be.

The elves were represented by the girl, shadowed by a large man from earlier, while humans had Charles Blueflame flanked by Captain Molan Duree, Guild Master Lois, and Master Vincent on their side.

“My name is Minnalea Luna, third Princess of the Royal Family.” She bowed graciously, her foreign accent nearly impossible to discern. “I have come to your aid according to the Northern Kingdom's pact.”

“We welcome your aid, oh fair Princess.” Charles, even as tired as he was, remained a true blue-blooded noble. “Charles Blueflame of the noble house Blueflame greets you!” The mage’s bow was much more pronounced and servile than hers.

“Good.” A cold smile appeared on the girl’s face. “Then let’s start. Our arrival here wasn’t a random occurrence after all. We know that this place…” She wildly waved her hand while scrunching her pretty face in disgust. “Harbors a Forgotten Dungeon. Our aim is simple - to destroy it, to smash its core. After all, no technology from the forbidden era may remain, according to Luna Kingdom’s law!”

“I refuse to let that happen!” Answered Charles simply, while observing the incredulous expression on the Princess’ face. “We’re on Geinard Kingdom’s territory and your laws don’t mean anything here, Princess.” He once again bowed deeply, a trace of contempt hidden under the mask of gallantry.

The temperature froze.