Forgotten Dungeon

Uno

Despite preparing to leave and pretty much throwing the elven troop out Lord Hawk himself still roamed my boss's room. With a steady gait, he walked from one half-broken wall to another, stopping by each column, trying to read or maybe just remember what was carved on them. His hands touched reliefs made by the Sculptor with strange reverence as he muttered quietly under his nose.

“Interesting. And weird. I remember similar designs… But these look like a child’s play when compared to the old masters, not to mention some unsightly influences marring the overall beauty.” He paused. “And yet the feeling of pride and power is still present in the stone, even if the people it describes are long gone.”

He closed his eyes, whistling a haunting tune under the mask.

The melody swirled and danced for a few long moments, echoing off the chamber walls. Was it magical? I couldn’t tell. Yet, despite no words being spoken I could feel the elation and longing contained within. Soon the tune came to an end, the human invader just swaying his head in denial like a beast shaking its fur dry.

“It doesn’t matter. The past will remain but a memory.” His fingers clenched into a fist. For a long while, he simply stood there, contemplating in somber silence. I really wished he stopped and disappeared from my dungeon. Preferably right now. “Gotta live in the present.” After saying these words Lord Hawk straightened his back, turning the attention towards slowly regenerating Berserker. “It makes sense that more than five minutes are needed when the weapons are still lodged in its flesh, hmmm?” He squinted, observing my minion with interest. “Remarkable. If I could mass-produce them…” His voice trailed into the darkness.

With a sharp motion, he pulled out his weapons, the unmistakable sound of cut flesh and chopped bone filling the air. A moment later he shook them clean with a single, crisp movement.

“Too little, too late.” A mutter so quiet that it was nearly impossible to hear escaped his mouth.

After saying these last, parting words Lord Hawk turned around, leaving my wounded monster behind. Berserker’s heart was beating slowly, as his bones were mending and flesh was slowly regrowing. There was still some time left before he would be ready for action again, which was a blessing in disguise.

The scary human would be out of the dungeon by then, leaving my last floor boss livid, but alive. His mood was of no consequence - only the peace returning to the dungeon mattered.

I was glad that Lord Hawk ended his dilly-dallying. My drones were already trembling with excitement, a promise of work filling them with enthusiasm. This display of emotion was a rare thing from usually solemn diggers. Due to the lack of facial features and their puppet-like shapes, it was hard for them to convey their feelings clearly. Thus most of the time, they simply refrained from doing so.

Yet right now they were stomping in place, raising their claw- and shovel-like arms in the air, while making a surprising amount of noise. My earlier declaration seemed to touch a certain chord in their minds, forcing them to announce their will to the world.

That to build was their purpose.

That they desperately wanted to create.

And, last but not least, that after so much time had passed they had something to do.

Only a single week had passed, by the way.

Their single-minded desire was adorable to watch.

Amongst them only Sculptor stood still, common looks hiding a mind much more complicated than his Anima Drone brethren. A sharp spectator would discover, however, that instead of the digging tools he was armed with knife-like metal fingers. And, while he appeared to be calmly waiting, these deadly appendages trembled from time to time, reflecting the Electrical Chandeliers light and betraying his agitated state of mind.

Seeing the amount of work he put both into the boss chamber and the third-floor trial I was sure that he’ll continue enriching my dungeon as soon as the pesky invaders leave the premises. And probably confuse the hell out of them with his weird reliefs. I had to put aside some free time to review them. My only worry was that he would wander off to the first or the second floor, where our enemies were sure to gather.

Ah, but then again - Sculptor was an immortal existence within my dungeon.

To change gears I started to plan where the fourth-floor entrance should be. My options were fairly limited: it had to be placed either in the Greed trial chambers, behind the boss golem, or by adding a secret door in the back of the Fake Core room.

In the end, I decided that the latter would be the best. In case of discovery, I could always pretend that it was built before my destruction. Not to mention that according to sentients knowledge, the staircase was supposed to have a guardian beast standing in the way of any intruders.

This role would be taken by Berserker as soon as he was able to, thus effectively blocking the humans from accessing my deepest and newest floor. Unless the real monsters like Lord Hawk decided to pay me a visit.

This decision meant that my drones had to wait for invaders to trickle out of the third-floor tunnel, and - preferably - the whole dungeon before starting their work. It seemed like my choice of digging only a single serpentine route was not as correct as I thought at the beginning. In the future, I need to consider this problem more seriously. Adding secret tunnels or just crisscrossing them with larger amounts of subterranean roads was also an option. I still had some time to decide.

At least with this turn of events, the humans and half-elves should leave me alone. I needed time to grow, to gather forces. And, most importantly, to understand this dangerous world I was thrown into. Gather intelligence. Plant spies. Before I was mostly ignoring the great outside but this simply couldn’t continue. People like Lord Hawk were a danger I wasn’t going to underestimate again.

Comparing him to a dungeon monster... was he an A-class threat? S-class? Or… *shudder* something even stronger?

Even a simple intelligence net on a surface would be sufficient for now. As for operatives… the undead were out of the question, same with my more monstrous creations. I guess the rats were the best choice. Small, smart, and adaptable. The evolution of their technical and magical know-how brought a grin to my face. The only problem I had with them was the worrying direction they were currently pursuing. My thoughts raced, as I planned for the future… and then somebody disturbed my concentration by contacting me through a mental link.

[Smell. Familiar. Enemy.] It was rare for Non to willingly communicate in this manner. She still much preferred talking over sending her thoughts away. I once asked her about it, and the revenant simply answered Human. Remain.

I was merciful enough to not point out that there was nothing left in her that was considered human, with her half-metal, half-undead body, completely black eyes, and frenetic desire for revenge...

[What is it?] I still answered, trying to delay the inevitable. Lord Hawk was one of the beings she had a grudge against. I remembered his description from before - a human so powerful, that the undead assassin had no choice but to escape before achieving her goal. Normally that would be a small matter, but Non’s very existence was determined by fulfilling it, so I had to be a bit deceitful.

[Enemy?] She asked again, her tone a bit confused.

[Well, yes. There were some human adventurers and a bunch of elven ones too.] I said, trying to distract her.

[Geinard.] It was curious how a mental message could be so full of hatred.

[We already talked about it.] I fumed. [Hold it in long enough for the powerful ones to leave. After that I don’t care about your little vengeance, just don’t get caught!]

[Smell. Stronger.]

[Of course it is! Do you think humans sent some weaklings to save the expedition?] My mind was spinning, searching for facts, trying to convince Non before she did something irreversibly stupid. [It would end just like your journey to Shieldstar. The sentients are much stronger than you give them credit for.]

[Powerful. Few.]

[So what? These few are enough to thoroughly kick your ass! And one of them is right here! Don’t be a child, and try to learn properly from your mistakes - knowing your strength and that of your enemy are the basics!]

[Coward.]

[Ha.] I scoffed. [Even if I am - so what?] A full force of my disdain hit her hard. [Did your so oh-not-cowardly-retreat into my home go any better? Escape and fight another day. You did that too!]

Only the disagreeing silence answered my words, but I could feel that her confidence was shaken. So I continued my speech.

[Let me ask you this - would you rather use any means necessary and fulfill your goal in the end, or rather fight honorably and die halfway?]

My attention turned, slowly moving through the soil, rock, and tunnels of the dungeon. This new mode of transportation was pretty irritating, yet there was not much I could do about it at the moment.

[They say that the revenge tastes best cold.] I continued my sermon. [Do you want to die in a blaze of glory, barely damaging the enemy? Or…] I stopped, keeping the tension up. [Or do you want to grow powerful and cripple them, destroy their hopes, and annihilate any strength that they possess?] I asked viciously. It was all an act, of course. While I didn’t like sentients and their Dungeon Core enslaving agenda there was no hot emotion of revenge burning in my heart. I would exploit them when possible, kill and devour their mana whilst growing stronger.

But to rule the world?

Destroy humanity?

Who cared about these?

This was not personal in the slightest. Unlike what the revenant felt.

A mental nod came back from Non’s side. [Grow. Stronger.] She repeated obstinately. These few minutes were just enough for me to arrive at her location - the hidden room on the third floor, just beyond the Glass Progenitor’s greedy tentacles and the underground lake.

Much to my surprise, she wasn’t alone. A small, pale lizard-like creature was currently desperately trying to avoid her jabbing fingers, twisting its body in an exhausted manner. The kobold, riiiiiight. I had pretty much already forgotten that these little fellows even existed. And, more importantly, that one of them stubbornly clung to the revenant girl. Out of sight, out of mind.

Seeing her actions I mumbled, more to myself, than anyone else.

[What the hell are you doing?]

“Training.” She answered serenely, still poking the barely dancing - should I say dodging? - lizard.

“Squeee!” It called out, begging for mercy, but the metal fingers didn’t stop or even slow down in the slightest. Seeing that the kobold clenched its feeble hands and continued the “training” that looked suspiciously similar to torture. On the bright side, the creature that chose Non as her caretaker was free of visible disabilities, unlike his brethren trained by Guardian. Yet his thin arms and legs, combined with fragile bones meant this didn’t account for much.

It was weak. Even an Anima Drone or a simple, unmodified Ratling would be able to beat it. Then again, for now, it was only a child.

[How long since you started training this fellow?] I asked from idle curiosity.

Non turned her head, brown, braided hair gleaming in the subdued light.

“Beginning.” She answered. This took me a moment to process. A half-minute later I continued the interrogation, my words subconsciously sharper. I could taste an incoming headache.

[Wait. Do you want to tell me that you trained this kobold hatchling non-stop since last week?]

“Weak.”

[That’s beside the point! Still, it’s unreasonable to keep him training without rest!]

“Why.”

[Because it’s not efficient!]

Non shook her head in denial, her completely black eyes somehow following my figure, despite her current ethereal state. “Eat. Not.” She spoke. “Pee. Not.”

[What about simple sleep, though? I know that technically their bodies don’t need it, yet it’s not necessarily true! A mental strain is as dangerous - if not more - as physical damage!]

“Rest.”

[How much?]

“Three.”

[Three hours a day?]

Once again she shook her head. “Minutes.”

[Three… minutes per hour?] I asked incredulously.

A simple nod was my answer.

[Are you insane?]

“Alive. Still.” She pointed at the creature, now lying on the ground with its tongue out. It gulped for air as its exhausted body trembled with each breath. The kobold seeing the undead’s attention turning back to him squeaked weakly and tried to crawl away.

Both I and Non observed his reaction with amusement. There was something cute in its desperation.

The revenant strode forward, quickly pinning the creature to the ground. It fought her metal arm, but Non’s body hid a surprising amount of strength, making the struggle completely futile. The kobold calmed down after a while, seeing as he wasn’t forced into another training session. Instead, he curled up and went to sleep causing normally expressionless Non to lift her eyebrow.

[See?] I asked. [Just let it rest for a few hours a day.]

The revenant once again tilted her head in thought and nodded a minute later.

I breathed out, noticing that Lord Hawk and other invaders already left the halls of my dungeon. Non’s mad charge had been prevented and the consequent destruction delayed indefinitely.

Great.

With a smile on my face, I turned towards the fourth-floor entrance, where my drones were already hard at work, slowly digging downwards. Unlike the earlier levels, the soft soil had been already fully replaced by a much sturdier grey rock. It gave me hope to adequately protect my subterranean kingdom, and at the same time slowed excavation down to the crawl.

A few more hours passed, as I worked on ideas on how to make my minions work faster. Yet all of them - explosives, drills, or even lasers were either impossible to create, too loud, or too dangerous. It would be bad if the surface races somehow discovered that a supposedly dead dungeon was still building floors.

In the end, I decided to simply wait.

Time was, after all, something that I had in droves at the moment.

It was already the morning of the next day - according to my Evil Eye cameras - when a commotion above ground happened to gain my attention. People were shouting, soldiers - preparing their equipment, and Lord Hawk was currently talking with both Charles and Princess Agnes. Their faces looked a bit pale so I immediately started eavesdropping.

“...And because of that, we’re going straight back to the capital, Princess.” The superhuman monster said while smiling faintly. “I must ask you to gather your things, get your followers ready, and come with me, your Highness.”

After sending a suspicious gaze his way Agnes opened up her mouth. “Can you at least tell me the real reason, old man?” She purred like an angry cat.

“I too don’t want to force you out of your love nest so soon, you know?” He joked lightly making both Agnes and Charles turn a bit red.

“How--?”

“It’s the smell.” He laughed even harder while touching his nose with the tip of his finger.

“I surrender! I don’t care anymore!” The girl only shook her head while sighing but her gaze refocused after a mere second. Her smiling eyes turned cold once again. “The reason, then?”

Lord Hawk reflected her change of tone immediately turning serious like his joking countenance was but an illusion. “A message arrived from the capital.” He said in a hushed tone. “He painted a pretty bad picture.”

“Details.”

“I don’t want to spread panic.” Lord Hawk said while scratching his freshly shaven chin. “It seems like the armies of the Three had been… stopped.”

“Details, old man. Really... I’m a Princess and I need to know this stuff!” She complained while keeping a cold expression.

“Yes, yes. Just remember that this needs to stay between us. The Green Succubus was stalled in Frist when her counter-offensive stumbled upon a large army of undead.”

“She is known for her mental magic, which is useless against the dead. But she can always fall back on the nature spells which is probably why she can still hold the fort. Frist is the closest battlefield - maybe we should reinforce.” Princess nodded while adding a few words. “How’s Iron Hand faring then?”

“Yorin started to rebuild Grode, but a massive horde of nature and elemental creatures took him by surprise.”

“Golems aren’t very good at spotting enemies after all.”

“Currently they’re being besieged. At least the walls had already been rebuilt by the old monster. He remains as obsessed with the order as always.”

“So he is safe then. Good.” With a gulp, she asked the last question. “And how is Hekkan of Ash faring?” Hearing her words Charles also turned towards Lord Hawk with an interested gaze.

“The scouts are not sure.” A grumble escaped from both Agnes’s and Charles’s mouths. “What they can say is that he is probably battling against some type of ice mage or similar ice creatures.” The older man continued in a soft tone. “We knew that sending that fucking force of nature out there was equal to wiping Kojin out of the map. We hoped that by sending the Blueflame patriarch outwards we would contain the damage. Yet now it seems like our predictions were all wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“The northern reaches are the Kingdom’s richest grain province. Many farms have already been annihilated and many more will follow.”

“Our people will starve.”

“Yes.”

“Is there no hope?”

“The king is mustering a militia army to beat either the undead or the nature creatures horde. It was not yet decided.”

“Many will die.”

“Yes.”

“This feels wrong.”

“I know.” Lord Hawk’s tone turned dark. “Using the lives of our soldiers, of those who need to be protected as a---”

“No, you misunderstand.” Agnes shook her head. “I just find it weird that all three of our great generals found their match so quickly. Something like this hasn’t happened in decades.”

“More like never.”

“Is there some greater, sinister force behind these events?”

“Girl…” Lord Hawk sighed. “I’m sure that both the court and the king are trying to work out this coincidence right now.”

Agnes nodded, her short blond hair shaking. “I understand. Does that mean we are to join the expeditionary force?”

“That is the plan. With your levels and the aid of my subordinates, there is nothing to fear.” The muscular man hesitated for a moment, before turning towards the former noble. “Charles.”

“Yes, sir?” The red-haired man answered through his clenched teeth.

“Do you want to come with us?”

After a moment of hesitation, Charles answered. “Although the Patriarch is currently fighting on the battlefield I... must refuse. My place is here. I am no longer a Blueflame.”

“I see.” A fleeting smile appeared on Lord Hawk's face. “Since you want to stay in the Silver Oasis I’ll let you on something good. On the third floor, I discovered a trial. Use it to become stronger.”

“Thank you, sir.” This time Charles’s words were full of sincerity.

“Don’t thank me yet. These fucking elves managed to wake the dungeon’s sweeper. It’s a high-level regenerating beast. Intelligent too. Much too strong for your level.”

“But--!”

“Don’t worry Agnes, it should remain in the Core Room.” Lord Hawk immediately soothed her worries. “And if by some twist of the gods will it would abandon it then just escape to the second floor. It can’t pursue you.”

“Thank you for sharing your valuable knowledge, sir!”

“Haha, don’t worry about it, little lover.” The man grinned under his helmet. “I’m sure that with time you would have discovered it yourself. I just sped up the process a bit.”

“Even if I did manage to do so, days, weeks, or even months would have passed by then. A power gained now belays power gained in the future.” Charles was still bowing deeply and remained in this position until Lord Hawk grunted approvingly and left the vicinity. As soon as he left the surroundings the red-haired man whispered. “I just don’t understand him.”

“Are you ready for goodbyes, Charles?” Agnes smiled sweetly.

“There still should be some time left.” He laughed crookedly.

“I like your enthusiasm.”

They clasped each other’s hands and departed. The soldiers were still screaming, supplies were being moved out, children were crying and civilians gazed at the ensuing chaos with wide yet dead eyes. Nothing immediately interesting was happening.

I would rather watch stairs to the fourth level being carved by my drones than wait for something to happen on the surface.

And I did.

Two more weeks passed quickly as I observed the slow desolation of the Silver Oasis. More and more people were leaving, and the remaining soldiers and civilians were barely holding on. The former noble constantly led parties of his soldiers downstairs, sometimes even taking a few civilians along. They killed my monsters, and harvested meat, iron, leather, bone, and every single other useful thing that could be squeezed from the dungeon.

I was observing the slow work of my drones while looking after the magical plants that sprouted on the third floor. Well, magical plants were a bit too grand a descriptor. There were six new types in total, one of them being a mutation of already existing species.

The two most interesting additions were Azure Potato and Rock Fruit. The former was just that - a bright blue-colored potato plant. It grew underground and the edible part had a bit thicker skin. It carried a weak poison which when consumed led to stomach pains and diarrhea. This could be easily remedied by boiling the potato for extended periods, yet doing so also destroyed most of the nutrition contained within, lowering its usefulness as a type of food.

The Rock Fruit reminded me of the coconuts from my old world. It was circular and brown, covered in thick hair. The outer part of it was pretty sturdy and contained both white plant flesh and the equivalent of coconut water. These fruits grew on something I could only describe as bamboo plants covered in short, bristly leaves. Unlike the potato, it didn’t contain any poison… it was only that the edible parts were unbelievably bitter and only poor or desperate would try eating them.

On their own, both plants were barely passable as food crops - that is if one didn’t mix the white coconut flesh with blue potato. As soon as the plant juices come into contact a miraculous reaction happens, neutralizing both the poison and awful taste. What remains is a nutritious white paste that could be boiled or even eaten raw.

A clear success.

With these additions to my dungeon, Ratlings could try their hand (claw?) at agriculture! To tell the truth, they were already working on the seeds, countless figures covered in brown robes were either darting around carrying supplies or presiding over strange rituals.

Nothing to see there.

The rest of the plants were more defense-oriented.

For example, something that I called Spewing Root was a mutation of a carrot. It was mostly growing underground, with a periscope-like growth sticking out of the soil. The innocent-looking stick was in truth an organic dart gun. Its ammo was a breed of paralyzing needles that Spewing Root produced on demand. The older the plant was the more growths there would be. Still, there was only a single dart contained in each “gun”, and any that were lost had to be replaced over time.

The root itself was edible, rather good tasting, even. This time without any caveats.

Clinging Thorns was a wood-devouring parasite ivy that evolved from a simple berry bush. It preferred to cover vertical surfaces, doors, chests, lost shields, etc. over normal soil. It could grow on living trees too. The thorns weren’t poisonous but instead produced a maddening itch in places where they pierced the skin.

Some berries could also be spotted among the thorns, tempting the adventurers stupid enough to reach for them. While small, and not very nutritious their taste was pretty unique since they contained minute traces of caffeine.

Which was interesting, as I didn’t notice anything that resembled coffee amongst the items used by the sentients. Of course, there was always a chance that those who gathered above my dungeon were of much too low station to have access to such luxuries.

Then there was Compost Gem - a very gently named plant with a terrifying ability. It looked like a pumpkin - a small, obsidian-like fruit. When disturbed (which was surprisingly easy to do) it sprayed the surroundings with a disgustingly smelly liquid. Calling it a Skunk Plant would probably be better… It was so overpowering that the victim continued to cough, vomit, and cry for hours after exposure. Not to mention that the aroma had to dissipate naturally...

How do I know that?

I saw brown-robed Ratlings make that mistake.

The last one was a mutation of the plant called Spike Sundew. Unlike its above-ground cousin, my Dungeon Sundew was grey, had a rock-like camouflage, and preferred to live in tunnels, not open spaces, climbing along the walls and the ceiling. It also produced spikes when stepped on, skewering anyone standing close. Because of it, false doorways started to appear on the third floor of my dungeon.

A few more days passed, as I observed Ratlings busying themselves with plants. They moved some of the specimens, groomed and culled others, working in what I could only describe as a zealous frenzy.

Anima Drones weren’t far behind, their constant clinking slowly crushed the stubborn rock, making space for rooms, tunnels, and - most importantly - my laboratories.

This also meant that I could start on my new pet project - a half-living, half-mech hybrid a bit similar to how the last surviving Dwemer was depicted in Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind. The reason for it was simple - I needed a species with dextrous hands and at least mediocre intelligence. Which sadly disqualified both Ratlings and the undead.

As to how I gained access to mechs?

Well… I can recreate anything that dies in my dungeon. And Ratling egg-mechs most certainly did!

More importantly - I don’t need to understand how something works if I was only stea--, I mean - copying it! These cranks, clockworks, handles - not important! The sliver of crystallized Anima in an engine-like machine - also not important! Copy it all!

The only problem I had with it was how explosive it was…

But… It’s going to be fine!

For sure!