The Dungeon Without a System - Chapter 71

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Tear’s Forge, The Seventh Floor, The Dungeon

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It’d been two days since the humans began their exploration of the Seventh, and Tear could at least say that with every loss, they improved. Every squad not patrolling the mines was training. If they weren’t doing either, they were eating or sleeping.

The spark had been lit. Tear could see it in their eyes; the drive to improve. In that steely glint, the set of their jaw and the tense posture they’d all adopted. They barely stopped to recover before throwing themselves back into it. Of course, it’d only been two days. They wouldn’t suddenly have the power or skill to overcome the invaders relentlessly exploring and mapping their home. Every squad that encountered the four humans was slaughtered to a monster.

But each time they fought, they lasted longer.

With each fight, they learned more.

After every fight, the drake-kin who’d fought wrote down their experience, and Tear read every report thoroughly. He learned of their fighting styles, how they reacted, and any openings the drake-kin could spot. Training took up a lot of his time.

Thankfully, he’d already finished his armor and weapon.

He stood on a raised platform as his apprentices fussed over the armor, ensuring it fits perfectly. One of the apprentices, Jita Rubyeyes, pulled a strap on his arm tight, making the large monster wince. “Careful there. Don’t want to cut off circulation.” He cautioned, brow raised. The contrite girl nodded and loosened the strap a notch.

“Sorry, Master,” she mumbled, embarrassed. He just smiled patiently at her and gently patted the monster’s head. She was the youngest of his apprentices, only three weeks old.

“No harm done,” he answered. “Keep it in mind, and move on. I don’t have long before I need to fight.” She nodded thoughtfully and focused on ensuring all the pieces were attached correctly. Another apprentice, Gore Hardscale, approached with his weapon. The young drake-kin could barely lift the thing, struggling under the sheer weight. He managed well enough until he was only a few feet away.

He lost his balance, falling forward. In a single smooth motion, Tear reached down and gripped the shaft. The weapon’s momentum was stopped immediately, and Gore stumbled again at the loss of weight.

With an effortless air, Tear lifted the enormous warhammer and let his eyes check the craftwork. He’d taken inspiration from a particularly vivid dream and had done his best to replicate what he could remember.

The weapon’s shaft was as tall as he was, breaching the eight-foot mark. It was made of the Mithril-Moonsilver alloy and covered in glowing runes. With a flex of will, he let mana seep through his hands and into the enchantment, activating it. It was simple, and while far from his first enchantment, he was most proud of this one. The runes would accelerate the passage of mana passing through them. They would direct it to flow as fast as possible between wherever his hands were on the shaft and the head. It also worked in reverse, taking mana from the head and returning it to his hands.

And with the oversized head, Tear knew it would do some damage. Speaking of, the head was indeed enormous. At its heart, it was a two-foot, one-foot, one-foot rectangle. The edges were cut away at a 45-degree angle, and each side of the solid metal block was carved with runes. Unlike the shaft, these runes would increase the hammer’s weight the more mana within them. If he took mana out, it would decrease.

Tear couldn’t wait to try it out, and he let a vicious grin out as he tested the enchantment, nodding with satisfaction when it acted as expected. At that moment, all three of his current apprentices stood back, their jobs complete.

He was as ready as he could be.

Tear stepped off the podium, lightening the warhammer as he went, and swung the weapon over his shoulders. Gore looked at him with envy, eyeing the ease with which he hefted the hammer he’d been struggling with moments before.

“What are you standing around for? Get back to work,” Tear demanded, prompting the three youths to jump and immediately beeline for their stations. Each had a quota of basic Iron weapons to forge, and he would only let them work with Mithril once they demonstrated sufficient quality.

Satisfied, Tear moved to his quarters and knelt before the respawn crystal embedded in the wall. He didn’t have time to go through his regular ablutions, but this would do. As the sound of hammers on iron rang through the forges, he began his prayer.

“Oh, Creator, I confront the vile humans who invade our home today. I confess, I doubt I am the one best suited for the role you have granted me,” he stated. “I am no great warrior. I am a smith. I make tools of war, but I have never wielded one in battle. Despite this doubt… I believe you’ve chosen me for this role for a reason. Perhaps it is not yet obvious, but I’m sure it will be in time.”

His piece said; Tear reached forward and placed his hands on the crystal, letting mana flow into the glowing facets. After a minute of the glow slowing building, the crystal flashed and dimmed back to its average level. He stood, the candle of faith in his heart burning like a bonfire.

Suited or not. Worthy or not.

The Creator had faith in him.

Tear would not disappoint Him.

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The Guardian’s Area, The Seventh Floor, The Dungeon

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Auora Isirtine was… conflicted. The last two days had been a blur of exploration and slaughter. They had combed every inch of the mines, mapping as they went and taking samples of all the metals they came across. Of course, they fought every group of monsters that came their way. They were no challenge at first. They were slow and weak; killing them took barely a thought.

About twelve hours into their exploration, Auora noticed that she’d killed this monster before. She remembered the look in its eyes and the arrangement of its horns. The armor it wore was identical, down to the scratches and collection of feathers.

After that fight, she stared at the cooling corpse until Xerat touched her shoulder.

“You okay there, Auora? You have an odd look on your face.” He asked, concerned. She nodded, turning to face him.

“I’m fine. Do these monsters look familiar to you?” She inquired, with a raised eyebrow. The man glanced across the fallen monsters, and she saw when he realized the same thing she had. He glanced back at her with furrowed brow and a slightly dropped jaw.

“Yes, they do. Now that I’m looking, I distinctly remember these. They were the first group we found, the one’s mining.” He paused for a second. “To be honest, this doesn’t change much. They’re still monsters in our way. Besides, we already knew at least some of the Guardians… returned from the dead. That it’s not just the guardians is interesting, though.”

He walked away, rubbing his chin. Auora knelt to look at the corpse a bit more closely. This one… This was the one that called them monsters. Unlike last time, Auora herself had been the one to kill it. Where Hallmark had run it through with a sword, she’d hit the side of its head with her warhammer. Hard.

After that fight, every group they encountered was familiar.

And they got better.

This strange method they used to return from death, it clearly preserved their memories up until the moment they perished. She found them predicting her swings, though they weren’t quite fast enough to dodge. Instead, they brought up their shields at an angle to her strike to deflect it away without taking the full force of the blow.

The first time it’d happened, she’d been shocked. By the fifth, she was more annoyed than anything else.

No move worked twice. At least, never to the same degree. Auora’d had to get inventive, using moves she hadn’t even thought of in years. Despite the annoyance, Auora found it… refreshing. She felt like she was really improving, rather than overwhelming her enemies with her sheer speed and strength.

Near the end of the first day, they encountered the first non-lizard monsters they’d seen on the floor.

They hadn’t seen it at first and almost passed it entirely. Xerat had been tracing his hand along the right-hand wall when a section of the rock reached up and grabbed him. Their ambush sprung, a dozen manabeings emerged from the wall and attacked. Like the Sixth, these were most likely Spirits or Fairies. They were incredibly effective in the confines of the tunnel, twisting the rock under their feet in an attempt to unbalance the humans. Others pelted them with boulders, and yet more began to bring the roof down on them.

It was touch-and-go for a minute there, but they managed to clear the manabeings out before the roof destabilized enough to collapse, barely getting out of the way in time. They were bruised, sporting dozens of new rashes and scrapes, but they’d survived.

After that, the groups of lizards were occasionally joined by two or three of the manabeings. Their aid certainly made the fights more difficult. They acted in every way they could to trip, unbalance, and distract the guilders enough for the monsters to take advantage.

But that was over the last two days. Now, they had finally located the Guardian’s arena. Hallmark had been correct that it would be off in a strange corner. The door was through several side passages, each more decrepit looking than the last.

Once they’d gotten through that final passage…

The Guardian’s door was intricately carved with symbols and images, and the rock around the door was carved into the shape of bricks. This room was the most carefully decorated and carved one they’d encountered on the floor. Torches that burned with a teal light sat in stone sconces shaped like cupped hands, throwing strange shadows across the room.

“Let’s kill whatever the Guardian is, quickly,” Hallmark spat. His foul mood had not improved at the time it had taken them to get here, nor the slowing increasing capability the lizard monsters had shown. “If it’s another manabeing, I swear I’ll…” He trailed off into mumbling obscenities and threats, some of which Auora was sure were impossible to carry out.

After checking their gear, they pushed the doors open and entered the arena.

The room was unlike any they had encountered before in this dungeon.

This room was long and rectangular, whereas previous arenas were typically flat and circular. It was also tiered, with Auora and the others entering at the lowest tier. There were three tiers, with only one staircase moving from one tier to the next. Each set of stairs sat on opposite ends of their respective levels. On each platform…

Every single lizard monster they’d encountered was here. Some guarded the stairs with their picks, while others drew arrows on strange-looking bows. Some were robed in intricate-looking clothes and hefted staffs topped with glowing monster cores. At the top was a monster standing head and shoulders above the rest, a warhammer of truly ridiculous proportions slung across its shoulders. It was covered entirely by an intricate set of armor, one that glowed from the runic script scrawled across it.

“You are Judged!” It shouted, and its booming, masculine voice reached them clearly, despite the distance. “I, Tear of the Drake-Kin, name you Murderers and Thieves. You kill my people without remorse for no reason other than that you can. You take their armor, their weapons, and their personal effects. I name you Intruders and Invaders, for you are not welcome here!” It swung that ridiculous warhammer like it was weightless. Auora felt a sliver of fear amongst her growing caution and doubt.

The statues lining the walls began moving, revealing themselves to be manabeings. The largest of these, one more than double the size of the others, loomed behind the Guardian. Auora couldn’t help but feel that this fight… would be legendary.

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The Eleventh Floor, The Dungeon, Medea Island

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Wave sighed as he stared at the remains of the iceberg. Despite his efforts to preserve it, it was unsuitable as any kind of transport now. The glass had worked for a time, but it had still let the heat of the spirits through, compounding the fact that the waters weren’t cold enough to sustain the iceberg for long.

And so, he pushed the hunk of ice off the beach and let it float away. He’d known it wouldn’t work forever, and he had no intention of trying to make a new one. Ice wasn’t his primary element, and crafting the last ‘berg had exhausted him. He did not want to put himself through that every few days.

“Right. That’s plan B sunk,” he chirped, though he didn’t feel that cheerful. “Which means it’s time for plan C!”

“What’s plan C?” The Molten Golem he was standing beside asked, their mental voice hesitant.

“Why, Plan C is walking along the bottom of the ocean while maintaining a bubble of air to keep the water off you lot,” he stated.

He could feel the wave of terror that swept through the sprites surrounding him.

“… Can we just stay here?” One asked, to a chorus of silent agreement.

“Nope,” Wave said, popping the p and deflating their hopes,” I promised your Queen to get all of you over to Isla Fuego. And I will. I think this method will be much easier for me to maintain than the iceberg. Water’s my element, you know? Takes far less mana to manipulate.”

He turned to face the large group of sprites. They were in various forms, inhabiting bodies of stone and different metals. Some were just free-floating. “So, I’m going to take you over in groups of ten. Sort out amongst yourselves who’s going first. I need to prep the spell.” He turned away and smirked as the sprites all rushed to throw each other under the bus.

Wait… What’s a bus? Ah, never mind.

In less than ten minutes, Wave was ready and surrounded by the ten ‘Volunteers’ participating in this first crossing. They were all Magma Golems since, theoretically, they were the least vulnerable to the water. As long as they kept their mana constrained to a thin ‘skeleton-like’ structure through the stone, they could move and constrict themselves to their cores at a moment’s notice.

If his spell did end up failing and the bubble collapsed? They would be safe in their stone shells until he could rescue them.

He was faintly disgruntled at the lack of trust in his magical ability but let it slide. That they were even attempting the crossing in the first place was amazing. Fire manabeings, voluntarily moving underwater? It was a miracle, indeed.

“Here we go!” Wave stated, taking the first step. The golems all made sure to move in time with him. They approached the water’s edge, and Wave began channeling the spell. The waterline began to recede ahead of him, then moved out of the way. Then they were staring out into the ocean through walls of water. Then they got deep enough that he had to close the bubble, letting water flow all around them.

The experience was… breathtaking.

For Wave, it was beautiful. The sheer mass of water, as well as seeing the fish swimming around, was awe-inspiring.

For the Golems, Wave was sure it was breathtaking in the sense that they weren’t breathing from terror. Not that they breathed anyway; it was just an expression.

Either way, the trip lasted about four hours. The distance they traveled wasn’t great, but navigating underwater was a lot harder with how cloudy the water got after a certain distance. He may have gotten turned around a little, but next time would be much quicker!

Wave noted that it would be sunset soon as they broke the water’s surface at Isla Fuego. He’d have to spend the night on the island before returning since trying to walk the ocean floor in the dark sounded suicidal.

Wave noted that Agni was waiting for them as they approached the beach.

“Ah, Agni. I deliver unto you the first group of fire sprites to walk the ocean floor.” Wave felt the Spirit’s attention lift from him and settle upon the group of golems who had just stumbled onto the beach and knelt there as veins of magma reappeared across their bodies.

“Thank you, Wave. Your continued aid is greatly appreciated. They seem unharmed, but for the existential terror and relief at being once more under the open sky.” The Spirit relayed, humor in its tone.

“Oh, they’re fine,” Wave waved off. “Didn’t get a drop on ’em. And despite how long it took, it was far easier for me than trying to steer that iceberg. By the way, can I impose upon you for the night? I feel that attempting to swim back in the dark will be… difficult.”

The Spirit dipped in acknowledgment, and the recovered Magma Golems made their way up the path. It was a lovely path, lined with torches and even paved!

“You are welcome to stay. We have rooms prepared for visiting Children and would love your feedback.” Agni replied, sending Wave a mental image of a basic-looking dwelling superficial similar to those found in Kobold and Drake-kin villages.

“I’d be happy to. Also, I’ve had plenty of time to think up a few ideas on the trip over. Could I bother you for a large piece of wood? I have a project I’d like to attempt.”

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