A Dungeon’s Survival

Lance

My blade pierced the goblinoid's bark skin, but it didn't go much deeper than that. The thing was tough and larger than it should've been, but it wasn't some massive beast, nor was it even on par with a giant in terms of size. Still, it was closer to the height of a human than any other member of its species I'd seen so far and much bulkier in build. More than just that, however, there was a strange contrast to it that made no sense.

Though powerful, its attacks were clumsy. Its movements were unrefined like a person who'd never swung a weapon before, and it was inaccurate enough to make me wonder if its DEX stat was even in the double digits. In fact, it seemed so bad at fighting that I would've needed to stand still just for it to have a chance at landing a solid hit against me. That was our saving grace in this fight because, as inept at fighting as it seemed to be, each swing of its club still carried a tremendous amount of force with it.

“Ha-ho! I fear it will take much more than that to slow me down!” the creature jovially exclaimed as Dan's spear stabbed into it, doing little more than leaving behind a small crater in its wooden skin.

Then, the thing released one hand from the spiked weapon it wielded. I immediately jumped to capitalize on the opening to try to disarm it. It wasn't until after I moved that the reality of what it was doing settled in, though.

“Hmm, I wonder how effective this will be in live combat,” it mused as a wave of magical spores burst forth from its empty palm, but there was something different about its use of magic than the others of its kind.

Instead of simply shooting forward in a spray like I'd seen happen so many times before, the red cloud the monster produced moved with intent. Splitting into two separate streams of powder, one moved toward Dan and the other toward me. I didn't see what happened with the other part of the attack, but as for the portion of it that targeted me, it flowed through the air with no resistance and homed in directly on my face or, more specifically, on my eyes.

Red filled my vision as it became impossible to see through the mist. I roared out in pain as it stung at my eyes, but even in spite of that, I swung my blade. I knew that if I could only rip that club free from the monster's grasp, the fight would be trivialized. Unfortunately for me, the Trenti was too strong. Even wielded with only one hand, the club remained firmly in its grasp.

“Interesting,” it spoke as my sword slid off its weapon, “In my testing, the spores created by the Spore Wave spell were much easier to control. I wonder if its due to the distance at play here or if the magical weight of controlling something so powerful makes exerting influence over anything else that much harder. Truly, I will need to perform more tests when the opportunity arises.”

There was something about the way that this thing was monologuing in the middle of the fight that pissed me off. It was like it wasn't taking any of this seriously, and more than that, it was only treating us as some sort of experiment. What was worse was that it was able to do so. I didn't think it was that much stronger than me, yet my slashes had little effect on it, and I was easily deprived of my sight with only a single attack. It was an embarrassing display on my part, and I knew it.

Regardless of that, though, if it gave me an opening, I was going to take it. With that as my intent, I used the direction of its words to reorient myself as it spoke. Then, I activated Slash and Piercing Strikes. Immediately, I felt my blows doing more damage, sinking further into it with each consecutive strike. The difference was immediate and immense; that was until something sharp and heavy impacted my side. Immediately, my sword fell free of my hands as the wind was knocked out of me and I was sent tumbling.

“Right,” I heard the word come from the Trenti, followed by the clang of metal on metal, a skidding sound of something scraping across the ground, and a pained yelp from our party's frontliner a good distance from where he'd just been.

“You'll have to excuse me my distractions. Combat is not a particular specialty of mine, and disconnected from this fight as I am, I am finding it quite difficult to concentrate on all that needs to be accounted for.”

I had no clue what the mushroom creature was going on about, but from what I'd heard of static monsters, the ones that could speak often spoke nonsense, so this much was to be expected. I wasn't even sure if there was meaning behind its mad ramblings. I just knew that with each word it spoke, its voice was getting closer.

“Now, I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me how your group increased in might so rapidly, would you?” it asked.

I coughed in response. Then, I froze. Actual, coherent dialog between adventurers and static monsters was unheard of, but this one was actually asking me a question? From everything I knew, that should've been impossible. Beyond that, though, the nature of the question it was asking was incredibly concerning and carried with it certain implications.

“How would you know how fast we're growing?” I gasped out in way of buying time as I staggered back to my feet and tried to catch my breath, “We've never seen you before.”

“Hmm? When you come here on the daily, isn't it only natural for your sudden growth to be noticed?”

On the daily?

By no means should the monster have known how often we came here. The fact that it did was either a lucky guess, or it implied that it'd somehow been observing us without our knowledge all this time. That was an unsettling thought.

“How do you know how often we come here!?”

“Ah, it would seem that we both desire answers. Might I propose a trade of information? A question for a question, if you will.”

I halted at that. This was wrong. Dungeon monsters didn't make deals, or at least, everything I'd ever heard about them supported the idea that they didn't.

Is this a trap? I wondered, but beyond that, I doubted the trustworthiness and sanity of the Trenti.

“Should I take your silence as an indication of unwillingness?”

I took a deep breath as thoughts raced through my mind. I was in a bad position, likely blinded for the duration of this fight, and disarmed. The entire operation here had been a mistake as far as I was concerned. We'd underestimated the Dungeon, and now, we were paying the price. Still, I could neither dismiss the deal out of hand or trust the one offering it.

Eventually, after a handful of seconds had ticked past, I gritted my teeth and said, “Permanent enhancers.”

I had no expectations for the creature to give me an honest answer in return, but I figured that I could at least buy a moment to brace myself and prepare for the messy fight that was about to ensue.

“Permanent enhancers?” it echoed.

“Yes, permanent enhancers. So, how do you know so much about us?”

“Hmm, well, I do suppose that was an answer, if an incomplete one. Very well. Through the power of the mis–erm–the Dungeon Core, as you would call it, I remain informed of all the important goings-on within the Dungeon.”

That answer actually sounded plausible. It would have also made a lot of sense if it was true. That fact should have been comforting to me. Instead, it only set off alarm bells in my mind. Had it actually just followed through with a trade of information?

“Now, I don't suppose you'd be willing to elaborate on those permanent enhancers that you mentioned?” it continued speaking, “From context clues, it would be my assumption that they are advanced alchemical concoctions put together by the human man, Baron Gyle, who rules over the town of Firmsoil outside. Would that conclusion be accurate?”

A shiver shot down my spine at his words.

“How could you know all that?” I blurted out in pure shock, unable to think through the ramifications of basically confirming the monster's suspicions.

“I'll take that as confirmation, then. To answer your question, though, with all that I've learned from the tales regaled to me through his apprentice's notes, it was an easy conclusion to come to.”

Lawrence's journal!

I wanted to slap myself as the realization dawned on me. It had been a little while since it happened, but Lawrence had lost his journal in here. I'd assumed it had just gotten absorbed by the Dungeon, but considering the fact that I also recognized the spiked club this Trenti was wielding as the same one that one of the bandits had carried back when they'd attacked town, it seemed reasonable to think this thing had also somehow ended up with it. That was worrying for a number of reasons.

“Might I propose one last trade?” it offered.

At this point, I felt like I'd already said too much, so I fell into the best approximation of an unarmed stance as I could manage. It was still too late to turn back completely, though. Because of that and more out of curiosity than anything else, I responded, “What?”

“If you would be so kind as to gift me the formulas to those permanent enhancers, I could ensure the survival of your group here. They are not faring well against the Dungeon's other defenders, I'll have you know.”

The words hit me like an Onikuma's paw to the face. The deaths of half of my party were still too fresh in my mind. Even the thought of losing Flur and the others physically pained me. For that reason, I almost agreed on the spot, never mind the fact that I knew nothing about alchemy and had no clue what went into the creation of the enhancers. It was just too much.

I had to forcibly calm myself after that and remember that I couldn't take the creature at its words. I didn't know if it even could stop the snake or lizard if it wanted to, and I had no clue how the others were actually faring. I was still blinded. I did know that, the last I saw, Flur wasn't doing too well, but I'd also seen her survive impossible circumstances too many times to count. I needed to trust her, and I had to keep in mind the matter of why this thing would even want those recipes in the first place.

“How's about I sweeten the deal for you?” it asked in a tone that seemed completely at ease, “You see, I fancy myself something of an alchemist. If I can properly recreate those enhancers of yours, perhaps you might even be able to find them available down here from time to time.”

If my eyes weren't squinted shut and burning from magical spores, they doubtlessly would have widened at the offer. Rather than the potential of it and blind greed, however, my mind went to the monsters found in the Cave of Absolution instead. What would happen if they, especially the already powerful static monsters here, got a hold of permanent enhancers? The mere thought of it sent a shiver down my spine.

“No,” I muttered at first before raising my voice, “Never!”

“Ah, what a shame. Oh well. Shall we continue, then?”

Before the words had even finished leaving the thing's mouth, I was already blindly rushing toward it. I didn't care if I was without my sword. I was going to rip it apart with my bare hands if I needed to. That Trenti was dangerous in a way that I'd only ever thought people could be. It had to be stopped.