The Dungeon Without a System - Chapter 70

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The Seventh Floor, The Dungeon, Medea Island

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Auora Isirtine walked close behind Hallmark as they passed through the doorway into the Seventh. The rest fanned beside him when he stopped a few yards into the room. Her first impression was… that it was a mine.

Unlike every passage they’d seen on previous floors, the walls and roof had the tell-tale marks of picks. They’d seen brick construction and natural caves but no sign of digging. The room looked 30 yards by 30 yards, with four stone pillars equidistant from the walls and each other holding up the ceiling. Three tunnels split off, one from the center of each wall. The one directly across from the entrance was the largest and had a set of tracks most likely used for minecarts.

Half a dozen torches, lit with teal flame, provided enough light to mostly illuminate the room. The central pillars and wooden supports were the only things that blocked their light. Speaking of supports, there were wooden supports everywhere, and they were even in correct-looking positions. Auora felt that the roof might actually cave in if she damaged or destroyed enough of them.

Come to think of it…

“Be careful of the support beams. Might be a trap linked to them to make the roof cave in on us,” Auora commented. The others nodded and made agreeing noises. This dungeon went all-in on its themes, so she wouldn’t be surprised to learn they did collapse.

“Well, which should we explore first?” Xerat asked, eyeing each of the three tunnels.

“The middle one,” Hallmark declared. “The minecart track might be important. I doubt the Guardian Arena is near the track, but it’s likely central to the tunnel network. Best to map it out now and make it easy on ourselves later.” No one had any objections, so with some shrugs, they followed the man who was already striding away.

After grabbing a torch from the wall, they followed the tracks for a while. It wasn’t a straight tunnel. Instead, it curved back and forth. At some curves, a smaller tunnel branched off. Sometimes they visibly rose or fell, and others stayed flat. They decided to mark down the locations and move on. They would have plenty of time to explore them later.

Things got more interesting as they passed the sixth such split in the tunnel.

They began hearing the Clink of picks striking stone.

They were already moving quietly, but now they made an effort to make as little noise as possible. Completely silent, they moved down the side tunnel towards the rhythmic sound. It wasn’t long before they could see the source of the noise. Twelve lizard monsters of the same kind as the Third’s Guardian were swinging highly modified picks at the tunnel walls. Three were digging at the end of the tunnel, lengthening it, and putting supports from a pile on the ground into place.

Another eight focused on the walls, where Auora could see veins of glittery silver ore. The final monster was on watch, keeping an eye on the tunnel. To its credit, it noticed Auora and her party quickly. A barked “HUMANS!” later, and the other eleven monsters turned to face the party.

They formed up, pulling shields from their backs and shifting their grip on their picks, which drew Auora’s eye. The weapons were more than simple picks. One side of the head looked like a regular pick, but the back side was a blade arching down like a hand-axe. Their shields were circular and constructed of a greyish wood, clad in a silver metal that glinted not unlike the ore they were mining.

Hallmark took point, striding toward the monsters with sword drawn and face expressionless. Xerat stayed where he was and began pulling water from the expanded pouches on his hips, molding them into whips. Chana raised her bow from her position next to Xerat and loosed the prepared arrow. The arrow flew straight and true until the monster she’d aimed for raised and angled its shield. The arrow glanced off the metal edging with sparks and embedded itself in the ceiling.

Auora hefted her warhammer and followed Hallmark, charging to meet them as the monsters charged the guilders in turn.

They were surprisingly skilled with their pickaxes, one managing to deflect her overhead strike to the side, letting it slam into the ground with not-insignificant force. At her left, Hallmark cut down the first monster; his diagonal slice separated its head from its shoulders and then continued onward to sever the arm of the monster next to it.

As the headless corpse fell to the ground with the severed arm, the injured monster let out a wounded screech, and the other monsters cried out in despair. “Jivik, No!” “Get your Guard up!” “Get them!”

As the battle continued, the monsters got more and more desperate. With each monster cut down, the remainder swore revenge anew. Eventually, only one monster remained. This one had better-looking gear. Though bruised, battered, and handless, he glared at them with pure hatred in his eyes.

“Oh, well done. You must feel so proud of yourselves.” It spat out, its biting tone full of venom. “And you call us monsters. Heh. The only monsters I see here are yo-” Hallmark’s sword lashed out one final time and severed the monster’s head.

Auora looked around at the monster corpses in various states of dismemberment. This time, she really looked at them.

Their armor was adorned with colorful feathers, no two having the same number, pattern, or location. Their weapons were of decent quality and looked made to fit their claws. As did the armor. Rather than the ill-fitting leathers of the lizards on the third floor, these fitted them perfectly—Chainmail, leather, and the same glittery metal used in their picks.

They made this equipment, Auora realized. It wasn’t stolen or repurposed, as the lizard monster above had done. Instead, these were crafted just for the monsters, likely by other monsters. Blacksmithing was a challenging trade that only left a little time for other pursuits, so there had to be dedicated smiths making this stuff.

As they looted the corpses for some of that shiny metal, taking one of each piece of equipment, Auora turned over the concept in her head.

Perhaps… They were more than animals, parroting words or saying what the dungeon told them to.

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The Drake-Kin Village, The Seventh Floor, The Dungeon

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When the first drake-kin stumbled out of the barracks in her underclothes, looking down at her hand with fascination. The second appeared only thirty seconds later and became very emotional upon seeing his squad mate. He cried out, hugged her close, and she returned his embrace without hesitation.

It took a minute for Kata to realize what was happening, and another two drake-kin had emerged from the barracks before she did. She’d known that the warriors were connected to ‘respawn crystals’ by the du- The Creator, but she didn’t understand what it meant. The word respawn had no meaning. It was just a bunch of syllables smushed together. Snippets of previous conversations flashed through her mind.

“Heua. What does respawn mean?” She asked the slate-grey drake-kin. Her friend had been walking with her before they’d witnessed the ever-increasing number of drake-kin emerge from the barracks.

“It’s a word The Creator taught us that doesn’t have a direct translation in Phenocian,” Heua replied in a lecturing tone. “The closest translation would be… ‘Return From Death.’ Ah, You haven’t seen someone respawn, have you?” Kata shook her head, then raised a hand to gesture towards the twelve drake-kin in the massive cuddle pile on the ground.

“They returned from the dead? As in, the guilders killed them, and then…?” She trailed off, not knowing how to describe it.

“Yes. The Creator linked them to large crystals, and upon death, their mana followed the connection back to the crystal. After a time, the crystal created a new body for them; one entirely identical to the one they possessed when they last touched the crystal. No new scars, no missing limbs. Only the memories of their demise,” Heua continued sadly. “And memories of their squadmates cut down around them. The first to die is the luckiest, in that regard.”

They stood there for a while as Kata processed that.

She shook her head. “We should go see if they’re okay,” she stated.

Heua nodded, and they slowly approached the monsters. Upon noticing the approaching duo, the drake-kin quickly extricated themselves from the pile and stood. They looked wary of her at first glance but seemed to recognize who she was after blinking a few times.

“How are you all feeling?” Heua asked, “Holding it together?” The group all looked at one another for reassurance before nodding.

“Yes, Huea. We… we weren’t prepared for what being killed would feel like. Thought about it, sure, but we didn’t know.” One admitted to nods from his squadmates. Given the adornments on his armor, this one looked to be this squad’s leader.

“I’m not surprised. From what I’ve been told, It’s not something you can really prepare for.” Huea admitted, “If you want someone to talk to, the Kobold Hunters and Shaman on the Third have extensive experience with respawning.” The group drew some strength from that and muttered thanks.

“Thank you,” the squad leader replied with a grateful nod. “We should prepare our reports on the guilders we encountered” The drake-kin spat out the word Guilder like an insult, and Kata winced slightly. The speaker noticed her flinch and looked like he regretted his tone immediately.

“Sorry, Kata. Present company excluded, of course. You’ve proven yourself better than those monsters we fought. They didn’t even say anything. Just cut us down with those cold, dead eyes. I was the last one standing…” He took a deep breath and took comfort in the supportive claws placed on his back and shoulders. “I’m fine. We need to train more. They completely outclassed us.”

Kata frowned. “That doesn’t seem right.” She stated, bringing one hand up to bite her thumbnail and frowning thoughtfully. “I know you’re all decently strong and skilled; you should have fared better than you say you did.”

The drake-kin shook his head. “These are different. They’re not like that Platinum raid group. The Isid-Haythem-Cliche raid group, I think The Creator called them. These ones… there are only four of them. I think they’re the remnants of a larger party the Creator managed to disrupt a month ago.” He shook his head again. “They’re much, much stronger.” He shivered.

Kata and Huea stood there as the group wandered back into their barracks.

They were the first squad wiped that day, but far from the only one.

Another five squads respawned, and each said the same thing. A group of four guilders, incredibly strong and fast. A male water mage, an archer with enchanted arrows, a robed woman wielding a warhammer, and a man with a complete set of plate armor and a longsword. Their weapons pierced scale with minimal resistance; If that was the quality of the weapon or the strength behind each strike, it was unclear.

The close quarters of the Seventh meant that the archer and mage were restricted in how they could support the melee fighters, but it hardly mattered. To the drake-kin, they were indomitable.

The last drake-kin to respawn stated he’d overheard them speaking before he bled out. They were keeping score. Or, at least, the armored one was. He’d laughed as he bragged that he’d killed more than double that the woman had.

When Kata heard this, her temper boiled over.

She’d been hearing of how these guilders had slaughtered the drake-kin for hours now, many of whom she’d trained personally. In fact, those she’d trained were the ones who’d fared the best. Kata had found herself promising more intense training sessions with more than five dozen drake-kin that day.

Hearing of the callous cruelty, the rejection of even the concept that the drake-kin were rational, thinking beings… That they were keeping score of how many they’d killed for something as minor as bragging rights…

Kata made her decision.

“I reject them.” She stated emphatically, causing Huea and the group of drake-kin most recently respawned to stop and stare at her. “I reject the guilders, my fellow humans. This place is my home. It has become my home. You have welcomed me and treated me with respect and kindness. Despite the fact I once fought your cousins, the Kobolds. I killed them without mercy, and when Mushu captured me, I was your prisoner. But living down here, amongst you all, I’ve learned something. You’re people, just trying to live your lives.” Her voice faltered slightly, seeing the dozens of drake-kin who’d been drawn to her rant.

“You released me from my bonds. You’ve shown me trust and love. I’ve trained your youth. I’ve cooked and shared meals with many of you. Some of you I consider closer friends than any I made among my people.” She looked to Huea, who stood there, slack-jawed.

“I pledge myself to The Creator. To the Medea Island Dungeon.”

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The Eleventh Floor, The Dungeon, Medea Island

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Titan clung desperately to the iceberg as it drifted towards Isla Feugo. He wasn’t the first to make the crossing; that honor went gone to Igna and her personal attendants. After their cold vessel’s first voyage had ended with it half-melted and barely staying afloat, Wave had declared he would only make a few more trips before resorting to ‘Plan C.’ Maintaining the ‘berg and regenerating it was taxing to the shaman, ice not being his element even if it was related.

Titan was glad he wouldn’t have to experience Plan C. Being underwater and only protected from the ocean by a thin bubble of mana… The very thought terrified him.

As it was, He was once again in his smallest form. It was a most uncomfortable experience. He felt weak. Unprotected. Vulnerable.

To make it worse, he was clinging to the gently rocking glass surface of the iceberg, desperately holding in as much of his natural heat as he could to prevent it from melting. Melting meant sinking, which meant the water level rising around him, which meant-

Stop. Calm.

Titan did his best to close off his senses and focused entirely on his core within his molten stone body. Well, it was mostly solid; only a thin layer around the core itself was actually molten. Said core was probably one of the best things to ever happen to him.

Once one among uncountable sprites in the Realm of Fire, he’d become more here. He was unique among his kind. A Fire Spirit who had taken in Earth mana upon his transformation. A dual spirit of Earth and Fire. The elements had not combined to create metal as he had expected. Instead, they existed together, bolstering and supporting the other. Earth gave Fire a solid form, while Fire granted Earth its ever-changing nature. If he had to give this state a name, He’d call himself a Lava Spirit. He was able to move through stone and lava with unparalleled ease and manipulate the earth around him like it was his body.

In this self-reflective state, the rest of the trip felt like it’d passed in seconds.

The moment the ice hit the shore, Titan leaped into the air. He landed solidly on the stony beach and felt a wave of relief. He’d done it! And now that he was here…

Titan relaxed his hold over his internal fire, letting the molten area grow. Soon enough, the only solid sections were the plates of stone that moved across his body’s surface. With a flex of will, the rock he stood on began flowing into him, and he grew. Though, he noted it was much slower than usual. He found it harder to gather the stone, and iIt took a moment of observation to understand.

The ground beneath him was part of the expanded space. It’s edge. It was so hard because he was pulling in stone from outside the expanded space. When he reached a more respectable height, Titan stopped pulling the stone entirely.

Best not to take too much, just in case he messed something up.

Now satisfied, he let his senses sweep the area around him. To his embarrassment, Igna was hovering before him, radiating amusement. The other Spirits who had joined him on the trip were similarly amused.

“If you’re quite done?” Igna asked, sending the impression of a raised eyebrow.

Titan nodded, subdued. “I am.” He sent back. She turned and waved for him to follow, and he did so. His enormous strides shook the earth with each step, and the disgruntlement his earth-bound peers experienced brought him some small measure of joy. He turned slightly to wave at the smirking monster, who waved back.

“I am glad you’ve arrived.” Igna projected. “My attendants and I have made a start on our new home, but your help will greatly accelerate our progress. Yours especially, Titan. A great amount of earth needs to be moved if we wish to make a space able to house the rest of the court.”

Titan sent back his agreement, pleased with the compliment. As the only Spirit in the court able to manipulate stone, he wasn’t surprised at the request. They passed a forest of blackened, charred trees. Though one would expect them to be dead or dying, to his astonishment, they were alive and well, even thriving! He once again felt awe at the capabilities of their Contractor.

After passing the forest, they came upon the volcano’s foothills, where Igna stopped and began relaying instructions. Titan rolled his giant stone shoulders and got to work.

He reshaped the stone beneath him with each step; Flagstones came into being, marking the future road. He continued until the slope became sharper, and the road became a staircase. An hour later, he was at the volcano’s caldera, carving a path on the inside, down towards the lava level. He molded a bridge that widened into a platform, which sat at the center of the lake of lava. He pulled a Throne Igna’s size out of the far end of the platform.

It was simple, but it’d do for now.

He cracked his stone knuckles, the sound echoing off the caldera’s walls. If this place was to be their home, he would make it look like it.

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