Forgotten Dungeon

Uno

I nearly started giggling seeing the sentients’ expressions. Their shock-filled faces and sudden change of tone were very satisfying.

No more laughs and jests.

No more disrespecting my creatures.

Or they’ll pay the price in blood.

Most of the soldiers took a few steps back, instinctively gathering into a large blob of flesh and pointy armaments. Clearly, a human herd behavior at work. They stared wildly at their nearly dead companion.

The unlucky soldier gasped a few times his body still desperately clinging to life, before gurgling and slowly sliding down on his knees, falling into the bloodied dirt. I noticed that his crotch, chest, and face had been completely obliterated by the explosion, flesh shredded from the bone. It was both a vicious and effective way of getting rid of the opposition.

Not counting the death of a Ratling pilot.

Speaking of which - the state of his mini-mech was much worse than that of his victim. The upper part was completely gone the strength of the explosion turning the metal into murderous shrapnel. Bent and sharp metal shaped outward like a gruesome flower was a piece of clear evidence that the explosion originated inside the machine. Its two arms were still barely connected to the destroyed shell but could only dangle helplessly. The ‘egg’ insides were completely melted and covered in green glowing dust pretty similar to how radioactive waste was depicted in various sci-fi flicks I saw in my old world. Only flecks of flesh and bone remained of the rat pilot, the smell of burnt fur filling the surrounding air.

All in all an expected outcome for something that looked similar to reactor overload.

There was one thing that confused me, however, and that was the reaction that the Ratlings had. Instead of capitalizing on the invaders’ inability to act and attack they too stared at their former companion's metallic grave while squeaking to each other.

My social skills were lacking even when it came to reading humans, not to mention the bestial faces of rat-kins with their whiskers, fur, and squinty eyes. But there was something even I noticed.

Confusion.

Fear.

Hesitation.

These emotions were present in each of their actions. It slowly dawned on me that the mech pilots were as surprised as me, or even our enemies, by this explosion. In short, this course of events was an accident!

This changed my mind quite thoroughly.

While having self-destructing creatures in my roster was certainly nice (Lebir Exploders being a perfect example) it was a completely different case if I couldn’t control when they burst into a blaze of glory.

A ticking bomb - that’s what it was! Nothing more!

Even worse - if one of them could start a chain reaction…

I shuddered considering the consequences.

While I was in my own little world another Ratling force arrived as two sides were busy staring at each other, neither of them all that keen on starting the battle. An unusual commander was accompanying the army of reinforcing egg-mechs. Unlike the others of his kind, he was not piloting a metal contraption but rather moving through the skillful use of spider-like limbs attached directly to his back. His head was covered with a mass of metal, wires, and lenses forming something similar to a crude science-fiction helmet.

With his arrival, a new wave of squeaks followed, as surviving creatures joined hands with the newcomers, the volume lowering immediately as the mechanized rat spoke. His words were short and harsh, stirring the Ratling population present and turning them against the sentients.

The confusion was gone - a group of the machines readied their flimsy weapons and waited for the signal. On the other side of the room, sentients weren’t wasting time either. At least I could understand what their commands meant.

“Shield bearers to the front!” A thin line of elven warriors carrying round shields stepped forward, crouching and preparing to push back any attacker. Despite most of their soldiers preferring to use daggers, there was a healthy mix of various weapon types in the invasion force. “Spear troop! Follow up and support!”

A few more elves surged, efficiently executing the commands, a wave of pitiful spears suddenly poking out of the formation like a seriously bald hedgehog.

“Bows at the ready!” Another order was given, straightening the backs of the archers, each of them preparing to fire. Their role would be minimal in the upcoming clash, mostly because my creations were encased in a defensive layer of metal. The few who weren’t - including surviving Lebir Captains - were aided by Ratling dark mages instead. Because of that, my minions were protected against ranged attacks.

“Try to trip the fuckers, stop them from coming closer!”

“Remember your training!”

“Pierce their eyes, mouth, and balls - that always works!”

“Sergeant, they don’t have balls!”

“Bullshit, what are they using crotch protectors for, then?”

“Focus! Focus or you’re dead!”

A constant stream of encouragement, curses, and instructions was cut short by the hoarse and loud scream.

“By the Goddess sweet ass, is that a unique?!”

“A boss? What?! Where?!” Their leader, Agric, shouted even louder while running to the spotter position. “S-show me!” He gasped, while his subordinate pointed at the mechanized Ratling.

“It’s right there, sire! That weird one, covered in metal and stuff!” He spat on the ground, thick saliva mixing with dust. “An abomination! This place… it spews only monstrosities. It’s not a training ground granted by the Gods, but a curse! It should be destroyed!” He stopped speaking for a moment, before adding. “Goddess protects!”

“Yes, Goddess protects!” Agric nodded absentmindedly. “You’re right. Judging by the size it’s not a warrior type. We haven’t been drowned in fireballs, so it's not a sorcerer either. We wouldn’t even see a rogue coming, so that leaves only one choice. A commander.” He scratched his chin.

“What are your orders, sir?”

“Call our mages, we’ll try to snipe this bastard. According to my experience once we blow his head off the rest should panic and disperse. At least that was how it worked in other dungeons.”

“But these old rules don’t seem to work in this thrice-cursed place.” The spotter complained quietly but obediently turned back to fulfill his orders.

A few moments later a group of enemy soldiers wearing light armor converged on Agric's position. They were of various ages, their diverse-looking faces full of concentration and zeal. The elven leader started speaking immediately after they arrived.

“Earth mages, focus on blocking! Pull some boulders from the ceiling or ground, and try to make the terrain as rough as possible. These things seem to have a hard time walking on the flat ground, let’s make them work for it!” Two of the surrounding soldiers nodded, immediately moving forward and pelting my creatures with various pieces of rock and dirt. The damage dealt was minimal - a bent mechanical arm here, a scratched outer shell there. I was however worried about the mini-mechs crashing. I too noticed their unsteady movements.

“Jinji, concentrate on healing. Don’t waste your energy attacking, I don’t think water could help in this situation.”

“Yes, sir!” A slender and delicate elf saluted, turned back, and returned to the back lines. His formerly white gloves were already stained with blood and sweat.

“And you three…” Agric stared at the remaining faces. “I have a job for you. These monsters aren’t like the other ones we encountered. They have a chain of command, they fulfill orders, plan... and they have a leader. A general. An alpha. Whatever you want to call it. “The mages' expressions grew even sharper. I didn’t know it was physically possible. “Fire magic has a reputation of being the strongest and most violent out of the four elements. I want to prove that reputation today - cut off the hydra’s head! Burn it!”

“You can count on us.” Grinned the youngest one, his girly face twisting in an angry expression. “I saw the decimation that the royal entourage experienced. These creatures will regret attacking our forces!”

“It is the will of the Goddess to destroy anything connected to the Magi-Tech Empire blasphemy.” Said another one.

“Could you please show us the target?”

“Yes, of course. Let’s go.”

After a while, the trio of mages appeared on a temporary hill made up of boulders and loose dirt. Earth mages' job. From there elven leader pointed at my Ratling commander.

“I see the monster, Master Agric.”

“Me too.”

They immediately started to prepare for their long-range attacks. With faces full of concentration they coalesced the flames, slowly growing their size. A chant followed, like a strange melody begging the fire to form and mold into shape. Normally I would find the process fascinating, as ordinary magic was still beyond me, but I’ve been spoiled rotten by the Blueflame noble. His spells were stronger, keener, faster… more exciting to watch.

These sparkles?

They were on a level of parlor tricks.

My Ratling commander wasn’t one to take his chances though. He pointed towards the concentrating mages and let loose a string of commands. Following that a few of the Lebir Captains moved forward, the dark mages on their shoulders casting their greenish barriers, effectively stopping the assault before it even started.

The elven mages still tried, letting grunts of exertion as the spells flew through the air - arm-length arrows made up from flames. A beautiful sight. Yet the force behind them was laughably weak and was easily dispersed either by the sturdy shells of egg-mechs or the barrier.

“Pah!” Agric angrily kicked the ground. “No easy way out, then?” He mumbled. “We need to take the fight to the enemy… and do it skillfully.”

His soldiers weren’t very keen on advancing, the explosion and subsequent death of their companion filling them with a healthy dose of dread. On the other hand, my Ratlings were currently in the middle of waddling through the room, their egg-mechs pretty useless in rough terrain.

As the battle started to heat up I vividly felt two things. Firstly - the elven blonde princess was currently running towards the commotion, her soldiers reinforced with a new team straight from the surface. Secondly - the Ratlings managed to wake up Charles Blueflame, the Geinard Kingdom noble.

The man in question was currently sitting on his knees, retching.

I immediately changed the focus of my attention in order to observe his actions. Helping him was a long shot, but the risks were minimal and the more chaos could be stirred above ground the better. Considering the man’s character I was pretty sure he wouldn’t take this insult lying down.

The red-haired Blueflame spat out a few more times, thick globes of stomach acids mixed with something weird splattering on the ground. His face was twisted in an expression of disgust.

“What the hell is this green goop? It’s all over my face, worse - even my clothes are smeared with it… I smell like shit.” It was at this moment that he noticed my Ratlings making a strategic retreat. He stared at it for a moment, before yelling. “You little… GET BACK HERE!” Like in a comedy skit, he clamored to his feet, before unsteadily running after the rats. His gait was however much too slow and my creatures easily escaped into their tunnels.

Only after losing sight of them, Charles looked around, his face slowly brightening with an expression of understanding. And anger.

“What happened?” He spoke to himself. “We talked about elven equipment. Then I was… attacked. Drugged. Betrayed. My men… Master Vincent too.” His gaze jumped from one figure lying on the floor to the other before resting for a moment. “They want to destroy the Dungeon Core, even the whole dungeon, my work, my future... these fucking whoreson elves!” His eyes snapped open and his jaw clenched tightly. “They wanted to kill me! Me! One of the Blueflames! These sons of bitches, insane incestuous zealots… are they thinking that with all the shit that has been happening, we don’t have time to fight them?!”

He kicked one of the guards lying on the ground awake, the man curled up from the pain while coughing his lungs out. It was however enough to wake him up from his trance. Seeing this reaction I wondered what these Ratlings were doing to the sentients if the solution to waking them up was so simple…

“Get up!” Charles shouted and the human soldier redoubled his pitiful efforts to stand up. Only after seeing him scrambling did the noble turn to another one.

“I have to get back to the surface. To my forces. Organize an expedition. Get revenge.” His face twisted again, this time with a wild smile. “I’ll show you, bitches, that disappearing in the dungeon can happen to you too!”

With steadier movements, he started waking up to the rest of his companions. For the common soldiers, a solid kick to the noggin was enough - most of them groaning in pain, but quickly coming to their senses. The armor of the few was dirtied with green.

When it was Master Vincent’s turn Charles changed his approach to more delicate. He bent down, reached for the mage's shoulder, and started to shake him. The old man soon opened his eyes, and a brief moment of confusion was immediately replaced with resigned clarity.

“The young princess is a ruthless one. I see.” He smiled weakly towards the noble. “This was the most unpleasant surprise. How did you manage to avoid the effects of Green Poison, sir?”

“So that’s how it’s called? Fitting.” Charles nodded, suddenly looking calm and collected - if one failed to notice fire burning deep in his reddish eyes. “It was a fluke, really. These small rat monsters were nibbling on my face when I awoke. Fortunately, they didn’t focus on my vitals, trying instead to go for the meat. They probably thought I was dead.”

“I see. While it’s true that Green Poison cools the body and slows the breathing down it still shouldn’t...” The mage's expression turned complicated as he continued his mumbling for a long while. It was clear that he didn’t believe in the explanation, but decided to not continue the topic. “What are your plans then, sir Charles?”

“Let’s retreat for now. We have to get back to the surface. After that… I plan to kill off the elves there and lead an expedition to stop Minnalea from destroying the Dungeon Core.”

“It is a rash decision, sir. Why… it could even start a war.”

“Start?! Start?! Start a goddamned war?! Don’t you see?! We were already at war from the moment that elven b---!” Charles composed himself immediately. It was strangely artificial, like a brake attached to his mind. “Speaking badly of royalty never ends well.” He mumbled quietly, his jaw clenched tight. “From the moment these accursed elves tried to kill us and use this moment of weakness to destroy our - my - future!” He breathed heavily for a moment. “There was no need to hesitate! The knives are already out, mage!” He nearly hissed, his hatred of the situation exceeding the fear of the magician.

“As you wish, sir. But let me remind you, that technically the princess didn’t try to kill us. She could easily defend her actions as wanting us out of her way - for a time. What you’re trying to do, sir, on the other way… It could end badly. It can’t be misinterpreted.” The old mage sighed, securing his strange helmet on a bald head. “The truth orbs can only divine what happened in the past, not recognize future intentions. Our minds are fickle things like that.”

“Yes, yes I know. It doesn’t matter in the end. The time for words is long past.” Charles spoke impatiently. “Move out men, on the double! Gather in the first-floor forge room - right now!” He looked around. “We need to avoid elven sentries. Sergeant, send some men to scout.”

“What if we encounter Luna Kingdom’s forces, sir?”

“Retreat and return with reinforcements if they have a numerical advantage.”

“And if not?”

“Then slaughter them all.”

“Yes, sir!” The man saluted and started giving orders. Soldiers in blue-gray uniforms started to move under his command.

I felt another pull, this time from the hidden hospital room, guarded by the always-hungry Glass Progenitor.

It seemed like my work on Non’s body was nearly finished. Well, calling this crude butchery an operation felt overly pretentious… but I used whatever tools were necessary for the job. And this revenant, this strange, intelligent undead, was a tool I wasn’t keen on losing. Anyway - my focus returned since the coming-up part was going to be much more complicated.

Cutting something off was easy. As it usually was with destruction.

Creating however was another can of worms. Especially when I had to use my precious Anima to fill in the gaps. Knowledge. I didn’t know how reliant I was on something like a smartphone or internet access to understand even the basics of science.

At least I had no problems with replicating human limbs, considering the droves of adventurers that died in my dungeon and were summarily consumed. With their flesh turning into energy and experience I also acquired information on how they were built. While some weird restrictions stopped me from recreating them as they were before I still could build up from the sum of parts.

That was how Lebirs, Bile-brain Golems, and even Decapitator came to be.

Because of this, a prosthetic made from metal was a child’s play. Putting in the wires instead of veins, substituting meat and fat with mineral wool and skin made up from thin iron sheets.

Now the main problem.

Even if I had enough knowledge, experience, and confidence to attach this metallic arm to a living, breathing human how would I make sure that it worked on an undead? Did they even have nerves to connect to? No idea. If they had, would I need to connect the prosthetic while using electrical impulses, or something completely different? No idea. Would I need to add something to her brain for the newly created limb to function correctly? Once again - no idea!

Yeah, so... because of that I decided to just take this chance and entrust her future to my weird, greenly glowing magic. With this in mind, I tightened my grip on her body, countless mechanical appendages covering her flesh, making sure no slip-ups were possible... and started my work.

The limb was lowered and fitted smoothly - like a missing part of the doll. I even managed to add some hook-like blades to the fingers without inhibiting her dexterity. They would spring out of the arm, like claws from the cat’s paw, silent and deadly.

I smiled.

It was but a small touch, yet it still felt meaningful.

And then I let my mana flow, the green glow intensifying, covering not only Non’s newly created arm but also the rest of her body. She groaned, but my countless copper arms kept her steady.

Then came a scream - along with a hoarse moan filled with pain and a tingle of pleasure. The energy surged, somehow changing my earlier creation, and giving the cold metal a semblance of life.

It also stretched the metal, covering a part of Non’s shoulder and becoming one with the undead’s flesh. Another scream escaped the revenant’s mouth as I watched with fascination how she was becoming one with the machine. After a second of staring, I knew what was bugging me - it reminded me of Roman gladiators! There was probably some kind of fancy, old name for it, but I didn’t care.

The important part was that Non was already whole!

And with this, my forces received an upgrade!

Feeling a bit giddy I released my iron (copper, really) grip. The revenant opened her eyes, before staring at the ceiling.

[What are you waiting for?] I asked. [I managed to repair your arm. It should be alright now.]

Her head turned, taking in the grey gleam of metal - the iron slowly turning darker and darker. She didn’t smile, but there was a seriousness in her eyes.

[N-new?] She stuttered over the line.

[Yes, as good as new! Now, tell me how you feel!]

Seeing as the appendages retreated she sat down on the table and, a moment later, took a few steps forward.

Only to collapse immediately.

[Hey! HEY! What happened?] I yelled in panic, my investment suddenly turning worthless.

[H-heavy…] She grunted, her new arm stuck to the ground.

[Ah… now that you mention it making bones and skin entirely from iron maybe wasn’t the best idea?]

[Unwieldy.] She added.

[H-hey! I was doing my best! I even added claws to your design! Really cool like!]

[Claws?]

[On the tips of the fingers… I mean I made them, but the magic could have changed their properties. Just try to focus on the *ssshing* feeling!] I blabbed on.

Non kneeled for a long moment before slowly standing up. I could see her muscles stretching, trying to find a balance between her left arm made from metal and her right one composed of skin, flesh, and bone. A second later she curled up her fist and from the tips of her other hand razor-sharp needles extended, glistening with poison.

[Well, that’s something new…] I mumbled, shocked by the sight. [I still prefer hooks, though.]

[G-good.] Non answered while carefully examining her new weapons. This adjustment took her a few long minutes before her attention returned to the present. [E-enemy. Where.]

[Hey, wait, wait. First, please tell me about your little...escapade. Then we get you some weapons. And then you can go and hunt my enemies, okay?] Asked in an infantile tone, hoping to get through her brusque facade.

The revenant stopped, thinking. I could see the gears turning in her head. In the end, she acquiesced to my request.

In about fifteen minutes I was exposed to the recollection of the world’s worst storyteller. Her abrupt changes of pace, simply leaving out great parts of her adventurers and the need for literally forcing her to elaborate was absurdly difficult.

I managed to assemble the truth piece by piece. There were still unclear and straight-up insane parts of what she told me, but I didn’t have time to nitpick. The elves were getting deeper into the dungeon.

My Lebirs, Ratlings, and Rat Beasts were doing whatever they could to slow them down, but it simply wasn’t enough. What’s worse Berserker was going after them, but his slow march was not even close to the tempo that the blonde princess imposed.

I needed somebody to slow them down.

A dexterous and strong fighter.

I needed Non’s aid.

At least on the bright side, my drones already made a third-floor boss room and the Fake Core was being transferred there right now. This also allowed me to give Berserker Floor Guardian privileges and made him effectively immortal.

You gain some, you lose some I guess.

[From what I understand there could be some hunters coming after you?] She only nodded. Now, this was outside calculations. For a moment I felt the urge to throw her out, but that passed quickly. Non still had her uses. Not to mention her ability to speak and sneak was something that none of my other creatures possessed. [You still haven’t fulfilled your part of the deal too.] I was, of course, talking about what she promised Guardian after turning her into the monster.

[S-sorry. Will. Go.] She hung her head like a child. Now I felt bad for bullying her. Just for a moment, though.

[No, don’t bother. I have another proposition though.] Her ears perked at my suggestion. [There is a band of elves in my dungeon, demolishing level after level and being very naughty guests.]

[N-naugh-ty.]

[You see I would very much like it if somebody made sure they weren’t going to bother me anymore. Would you be willing to take up this task?]

[Y-yes. Non’s. Home. N-new. H-home. Friends.] She jumped straight up, lifting her hands into the air. A clear sign that the assimilation is going nicely. After a second her face clouded. [B-but…]

[What would be the problem?]

[No. Weapon.]

[Oh. You’re right. That’s not a problem.] While fancy stuff was beyond me, as long as I only needed to replicate something that sentients brought to my dungeon… easy-peasy.

Two daggers extremely similar to those that a rogue named Tinna once brought to my tunnels materialized on the floor. I only changed the color to a bit darker. Just to fit Non’s style. She immediately picked them up, trying cuts and slashes.

[Right. Good. Left. No.] With disappointment, she threw one of the daggers behind. Of course. Her new arm wasn’t going to be the same as the old one.

[What needs to change, then?] I asked, curiously not keen on simply guessing. Non scratched her head.

[Thick-er.]

[Thicker you say?]

[N-not. Enough.] She nodded.

[Hmmm… how about this, then?] I asked, summoning the serrated dagger that elves sometimes used. The revenant examined it for a moment, attacking an invisible foe, before shaking her head.

[No.]

[Does it need to be a dagger?]

[No.]

[A sword then. Or rather… a butcher’s tool. It should suit you.] This time I summoned something different. Something, that was left by that accursed human and I couldn’t fully absorb. It was similar, yet different from my cursed weapons.

While the options I had were all of the grandiose kind - “A Sword That Cuts Even Steel, Wielder Hands Included”, “A Tower Shield That Stops Any Attack - Once, At The Cost of the Wielder’s Life”, ”A Helmet That Allows to See In The Dark, But Makes Wielder Blind In The Sun”, “A Dagger Which Takes Life, But Half of the Damage Is Transferred to the Wielder” and so on and so on...

Nothing was really useful, so I wasn’t really worried if sentients managed to get their greedy mitts on them.

The butcher knife in question though… A marvel. Its effect was simple - to bestow a regeneration and reinvigoration effect on a wielder in exchange for heightened aggression. By how the numbers worked I guessed that it had killed many more than my own cursed toys would, since by the virtue of being… innocuous enough.

But, to be used by an undead seemed perfect.

It was also heavy enough for Non to wield it.

And, most importantly, she seemed to like it! As whooshing sounds confirmed.

[How is it?]

[T-thick.]

[Good. Are you ready then to visit our guests?]

[Yes.]

[Good. They’re… here.] I sent her their current location and she shadow-jumped immediately.

I observed lazily as she appeared at the back of the advancing troop.

The elves lost three of their people before even understanding they were under attack. Complacent, but understandable considering that their whole rear was covered by the silent knight’s shield. A whiteish barrier hummed and moved with each step he took backward. Quite a skill, really.

Two more lost their lives screaming in fear and confusion, their throats cut mercilessly. Before the rest arrived both the knight and my revenant were staring at each other. A second later Non sailed through the air, weapons ready to strike, only to bounce comically from the suddenly expanding shield.

She got back up immediately, tilting her head in wonder. With a wide swing, Non attacked, her butcher knife nicking the barrier, but not breaking it down. A few more brutal hits followed, but there was still no effect. The rest of the elves noticed that something weird was going on and they started to turn back, prepared to deal with an assailant.

[This thing blocked a powerful explosion.] I sent. [I don’t think that you’ll be able to break with just physical strength. Use your teleportation, girl.]

Non nodded, before jumping a few steps back and throwing her butcher knife at the barrier. The silent knight steeled his arm, tensing at the incoming attack.

Using this as a distraction the revenant jumped into the shadows once again, before appearing behind the human knight. Her dagger flew through the air like a snake, turning and moving.

There was nothing more he could do… but use his shoulder as a shield. With a grunt, the dagger dug deep into the flesh, the man’s shield failing as he fell on his backside. A lovely *snickt* sound resounded as poisoned needles emerged from Non’s fingertips. She came closer, a predator hunting her prey.

But it came undone in a second.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE, YOU BITCH!” A scream sounded and following it - a beam of light assaulted the revenant.

If she was any of my other creatures this would be her end.

But she wasn’t.

Without the slightest sound, she disappeared only to appear again a few meters back, her butcher knife already readied, while the dagger was still stuck in the knight’s shoulder. There was an expression of curiosity on her face.

“What are you?” Asked Minnalea, while coming closer to her defender. “An assassin from the Geinard Kingdom.”

“Geinard. Kingdom.” Non repeated her words, focusing on the hateful sounds. The princess however misunderstood her intention.

“Bah! So you are one of those blasphemers!” She spat on the ground. “To think that one army of the undead is not enough for you heretics!”

“Heretic?”

“Don’t lie to me! I can smell your undead, tainted nature even from here!” A wild sneer appeared on the otherwise beautiful face. “I will clean the world of your kin. Body after body will disintegrate in my blessed light!”

“Weird.”

“Y-you! You bitch!” Minnalea glowed. An explosion of light followed, scorching both the ceiling and floors. “Taste this!”

“What?” Non answered while attacking a few soldiers standing behind the elven princess. They defended desperately, their cries for help ignored by two women. “Light.” She pointed at the Minnalea. “Shadow.” She pointed at herself. “Nobody. Wins.”

“That’s what you think, heretic.”

“P-princess, no!”

“I AM BOTH LIGHT AND DARKNESS!” Her form blinked between black and white, strange energy focusing near a small space on the eastern part of my second floor.

[Run?] Queried Non, while pointing at the mad elven princess.

[Yeah! Of course, get back!] I shouted, wholly not amused by the perspective of having another part of my dungeon demolished.

Non blinked away and Minnalea let out her aggression, resulting in pretty catastrophic consequences...