A Dungeon’s Survival

Lawrence

My situation wasn't as good as I was making it out to be. I hadn't lied about the functionality of the orb in my hand per se, not that I knew of at least, but I may have been overselling it a bit. The truth was, I didn't know. Gyle hadn't even seemed certain of how well it'd work.

Supposedly it was a military-grade prototype he'd held onto from his time as the royal alchemist. Not only was it unfinished and unreliable; I didn't even know the specifics of how it worked. For all I knew, he'd given me a strangely glossy black rock and made the whole story up as a countermeasure against any truth divination the mind mage may have still had working, or it could've been something else entirely. I just didn't know, and that made it all the harder for me to act confidently as I used it to threaten monsters I wasn't sure even had the intelligence to listen to me.

Still, I intended to follow through with my threat should it come to that. If this mage had ties to Drulin, them getting a hold of a strategic asset like this Dungeon could only spell disaster for the kingdom, no matter what their intentions for it were. I only hoped that, if I did end up activating it, whatever it did was enough to get us out of here intact. That was why the Trenti's next words were such a relief to me.

“They are not.”

I almost sagged in relief, but I caught myself before I could. Without Flur, I knew we wouldn't stand a chance against the two-headed snake or the green Horned Draco under normal circumstances. If relying on the uncertain protection of the orb was at all an option, I would gladly take it. My friends, on the other hand, seemed less enthused with the entire situation.

“I did not sign up for this!” Octavia strongly objected.

“Lawrence, you didn't tell us about this. What's going on?” Lance asked.

A surge of guilt hit me at their words. I hadn't been able to tell them the plan due to the risks involved. I hadn't had a choice, but the reality of the situation still hurt for me to accept. Then, one of the remaining two people spoke up.

“Are you sure about this?”

It was Autumn's voice, and it came from right beside me. I jumped slightly at it, but unlike the others, there was no accusation in it. As far as I could tell, it was a plain, honest question. A quick glance spared over my shoulder revealed her with her bow undrawn but at the ready and an alert expression on her face. Her brother was standing just behind me on my other side, an equally serious but also equally resolved look about him.

I gulped down my hesitation; then, I responded, “Yes, I'm sure. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you about his beforehand, and assuming I make it out of this alive, I'll explain everything to you later. You guys don't need to be here for this anymore if you don't want to be, though. I'll understand if you want to go. I should be fine–”

“–Nope, not going. I'm assuming old man Gyle has his reasons for this, and he's done way too much for us for me to just run off now,” Autumn cut me off.

“If I left, who'd drag you out of here once you incapacitated yourself?” Dan added, and my heart swelled at the pair's support.

“Thanks,” was all I managed.

“I'm not leaving you three here,” Lance stated.

“Ugh, fine! Whatever! I'm getting enough drinking money for this, and who cares if I die down here anyway. It's not like that'd be too bad a way to go out,” Octavia, too, surprisingly relented.

I smiled at that and firmed my resolve. I gave the room around us another look to make sure no monsters were actively sneaking up on us. I couldn't be sure the powder was working properly, after all. Then, I turned my focus back to the situation at hand.

“So, the will of the Dungeon, huh? What is that?”

* * *

Connie

Fortunately, immediately after hitting us with that massive threat, the apprentice alchemist decided that was the best time to have a sappy moment with his friends. I capitalized on that, using those precious moments to internalize the situation and shake off the immediate shock I'd felt. I had a choice to make.

Technically, sending Vie and Pee in to either assassinate the adventurers or the Trenti Archie was stuck puppeteering was a possibility, but at this point, it carried too much risk for me to do it. That was fine. I had other other options.

Lawrence had clearly stated that he'd activate the bomb if he saw any of my awakened monsters. That made the solution obvious: just have Vie and Pee kill Archie instead since he was out of sight. I could resummon him later, and doing so would be enough to extricate ourselves from this situation. Additionally, I could pull something similar to what I'd done back when I'd been forced to play dead, effectively disconnecting myself from my Dungeon as a whole for a time. By all means, I figured that would be enough to ensure the apprentice alchemist had no reason to activate his possible bomb.

I could even take it a step further than that and relocate myself if I truly felt the need. By having Prism, the only familiar I had that could actually touch my core without dying due to my Shade Lurkers' weakness to light, carry me, I could go anywhere I wanted. The only downside to that would've been losing all of the progress I'd made on my Dungeon so far and, more importantly, my unawakened monsters. The fact that I'd lose my Lizard Men crafters was the only reason I was opposed to doing so. Still, the option existing was enough to ground myself and give me the confidence I needed to handle this situation.

Why didn't I immediately do everything short of relocating my Dungeon itself then? It was because I had a choice to make. Sure, that would've solved some of my short-term problems, but the more I thought about it, the more I saw this situation as having the potential to work out to my benefit. Also, I could keep temporarily sacrificing Archie and escaping as my plan B, so aside from the mental pain I was being subjected to, I couldn't see a reason not to at least give building a narrative that would benefit me a try. That was why, when Lawrence asked what the will of the Dungeon was, I began to spin a story vaguely rooted in the truth.

“The will of the Dungeon is the force responsible for how a Dungeon develops.”

I was responsible for how a Dungeon, my Dungeon, developed. If I chose the right phrasing that suggested I wasn't the Dungeon itself, that could only benefit me, and it was their fault for misinterpreting Archie's words.

“Who controls this will of the Dungeon?” Lawrence followed up.

I do. Ha!

I laughed after involuntarily answering the question myself. Had I accepted that contract I'd just been demanded to, the answer would've been the Fairy Council. Now, however, nobody controlled me.

“No one.”

And I had Archie answer to that effect.

“Is the will of the Dungeon an organization?”

“No.”

“Is the will of the Dungeon a person?”

“Not in the way you consider a person to be.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The will of the Dungeon can think and reason, but they are no mortal or monster.”

That last question had been a bit tricky to come up with a good answer for, and it had taken me some time to do so. Still, I was satisfied with the cryptic nature of it. Apparently, the time it had taken hadn't gone unnoticed, though.

“Why aren't you answering my questions immediately?”

Ooh, now, that I can spin.

“The System will not allow me to divulge information that the will of the Dungeon does not first approve of. I am at the mercy of the mistress's will.”

Silence met that answer. It stretched for a short time. Then, Lawrence asked something a bit trickier, “Do you or your mistress have ties to any organizations?”

* * *

Lawrence

This didn't make any sense. By all means, the answers I was getting hinted at an external force controlling or at least manipulating the Dungeon to some extent, but when directly asked about it, the Trenti before me was denying all such allegations. More than that, though, it was clear that the answers he was giving were being curated in a misleading manner. It was annoying, but there was a silver lining.

Unless the mage I was interrogating was just messing with me because he could, the absurdity and continuity of his answers was enough to lead me to believe his words were at least based in some kind of truth. Going off of that, I'd decided to ask questions that could hint at what that truth may be. After doing so, I found myself wondering if he really was just messing me. His last answer was just so out there that I couldn't believe it was based in any kind of reality.

“Yes. The will of the Dungeon has ties to the Custodians, ancient beings who hold power over the System. Due to the secrecy surrounding them and the rest of the System's inner workings, however, I will not be allowed to share further details.”

What does that even mean?

It sounded like gibberish to my ears. Custodians? Power over the System? Somehow each claim seemed more outlandish than the last. I was about to disregard everything he'd just told me and mark the failing point down as the mage being able to lie. Before I could, however, another voice spoke up.

“Wait, the Custodians are real? Really?”

I, along with every other head present, turned toward Oct. Her mouth was gaping, and her eyes were bulging from her head. There was something there that only she understood.

“Yes,” came the Trenti's response, “but once again, I can not elaborate further.”

“Um, Oct,” I started, “who are the Custodians?”

“Um, wow. That is a loaded question. According to most scholars, they don't exist. Uh, are you familiar with the legend of Skortch the Brave?”

We all shook our heads.

“Most people think he's just an orcish folktale, but there are historical ruins that suggest he actually existed. Basically, he was an ancient Hero in the distant past that was supposedly loved by the System itself. The, 'Custodians,' as he called them, were immortal beings that resolved the System's errors and gave him a deeper understanding of its inner workings than anyone else alive at that point in time. Supposedly, he even hit the fifth tier of power and is still alive to this day, but there's no solid evidence to support those claims.

“I think one of the insectinoid tribes also has a story about them fighting in some war that raised them from monsters to mortals or something like that, but I'm not too familiar with that one. Maybe ask Flur? On second thought, maybe not. A lot of them have similar legends, but the exact details are inconsistent between tribes. Hers probably doesn't mention them.”

We all continued to stare at our resident drunkard.

“What?” she asked defensively.

“How do you know all this?” I asked.

That earned me a roll of her eyes and a snarky response, “I'm a Loremaster. My family has been studying and preserving history for generations.”

“Didn't you say you didn't like history?”

“Eh, I'm more of a visual learner. You try growing up having thousands of ancient myths and legends shoved down your throat when you'd rather go out and play. No, I don't particularly like reading about history, but I still know it. Exploring it firsthand though, now, that is another matter entirely.”

Slowly, my eyes drifted back to the Trenti. I still didn't trust it, but I was beginning to see it in a new light.

Maybe, just maybe …