A Dungeon’s Survival

Connie

I only hesitated for a moment. Shade Lurkers were potentially my most versatile monster, and losing my ability to summon them was going to hurt. There was no doubt about that. It wasn't enough to make the choice difficult, though.

As it stood, both Noctis and Loot still counted toward my maximum number of Shade Lurkers. That meant I'd only be giving up the potential to have one more anyway. Even if that wasn't the case, however, I'd been willing convert the species into an aspect so long as it was for my precious snakes since long before I'd summoned Noctis. The fact that it was Vie asking for it only made my decision that much easier.

With how little she asked me for, I would've been more than happy to give her just about anything. The only reason I hesitated at all was because of the current situation. I knew that, for her to be asking for such a thing, though, her current need must've far outweighed my own. For that reason, I hastily summoned the last Shade Lurker I ever would, converted the species to an aspect, and paid the steep price of 20 DP to give it to most faithful defenders.

“Our queen, thank you,” Vie's response came swiftly, something I appreciated given my current need for haste.

You've got this, I reassured her, I need to go now, though. Good luck!

With that handled, I wasted no time in redirecting my focus to the problem at hand. The pair of invaders had met back up and escaped my second room, and unfortunately that was both of them. For the briefest of moments, I'd let hope creep in and thought we might be able to take the Hero down before he became a problem. Unfortunately, while Adraugon's surprise attack had managed to smash him into a wall with enough force to down and disorient him momentarily, it hadn't been enough to outright kill him.

Worse, the woman apparently had healing magic because of course she did. At this point, after everything she'd shown herself capable of, I honestly would've been more surprised to see a type of magic she couldn't use. Still, that was clearly going to be a problem.

Ugh, I groaned inwardly, What now?

I hadn't actually been expecting to take one out this soon, but it would've been nice, especially since the remaining tactics and kill zones I had prepared were some distance off. I did still have tools at my disposal, but the question wasn't a matter of what I could do. It was a matter of what I should do along with what resources were worth using now versus saving for a better opportunity.

What are the chances you could ambush them again in the next room? I eventually asked Adraugon.

“Bad idea,” he hissed back, “Low on mana and too open a space. Not enough cover.”

That made sense. As impeding as the terrain in my bog could be, it was largely open, and with how dangerous the mage was, that was a recipe for disaster. Then, there was the issue of Adraugon's magical reserves. Now that he'd mentioned them, I took the opportunity to bring his status back up. I didn't like what I saw.

[Mana: 408/1,130 (1,300)]

Fall back, I made a snap decision, Restore what mana you can. Go to Rose and have her get you some mana potions. I don't know how much you'll actually be able to use with your size, but it should be better than nothing. Maybe have her try giving you a bath with them or something. I know you normally need to drink them, but it should be worth a shot.

Considering one Minor Mana Potion only restored fifty points of mana and was larger than the miniature dragon was, I didn't have high hopes he'd be able to get much out of them. Still, I was relieved when he huffed and reluctantly fell back. Any resources he could recover before the real fight would be worth it.

With that taken care of, I glanced to our enemies. Fortunately, they were still busy talking, taking a minute to catch their breath. That meant I had time, albeit only a small amount, to figure out what I was doing. To that end, I called on the two I'd be relying on for the next stretch.

Archie, Loot, status reports please.

“Mistress,” Archie began, “regrettably, I must inform you that the mana reserves of the Trentis are heavily diminished. Aside from that, we are at your disposal.”

“Master,” Loot followed up a moment later, “I am in position.”

Good, I said back to the pair, Archie, you're on potion duty. I want one or two Trentis shuttling them for you. Have the rest fall back to conserve strength. Loot, at my signal.

“Understood.”

“As you command.”

As if on cue, as soon as our preparations were taken care of, the last monster in my second room succumbed to the fire after killing everything else left in there. That meant as much DP as could be spared was freed back up for me. Now, I just needed to put it to use.

Hmm, what aspects should I use? Phase is now an option. I'm not sure how well the Record Memory and Inflict Memory combo will work next time, though. Ordering a Shade Lurker to freeze and having it inflict that memory on the Hero worked well enough, but how much of that was repeatable, and how much of that was just the element of surprise? Could I really risk trying that again?

With thoughts like that, I quickly returned to summoning whatever I thought might help.

* * *

Sean

I stared at Fable, in shock at her words.

“We need to head back and get them then!” I demanded.

“No,” she responded immediately, “Whatever I sensed heading toward them was powerful, yes; however, it was nowhere near dangerous enough to pose a risk to them. I'm doubtless; they'll catch back up in time.”

“But–”

“Also, that room is far too dangerous. My mana reserves have already taken a significant hit, and I would prefer not to spend any longer back there than absolutely necessary. I insist we make our way to the core instead, the sooner the better.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to accuse her of the same callous indifference I despised the nobility for. I couldn't. As much as I didn't like it, there was truth to her words. Cudgel was practically invincible, and the noble, regardless of how I felt toward him, was powerful. While, most of the time, he didn't seem to like getting his hands dirty, I'd personally seen him rain hell down on a group of bandits that made the mistake of attacking the wrong caravan on our travels. With the two of them together, there shouldn't have been a problem, except …

“Maybe, but do we need to worry about them killing each other?”

It was a meant as a joke or, at least, half a joke. The two of them had been at each other's throats more than usual ever since we got here, which was a point of concern. It wasn't so bad that I was actually worried about them killing each other, though. I'd mostly just said that to lighten the mood a bit. Unfortunately, my humor was either missed or flat out ignored.

“I don't believe we need to worry about that,” my companion responded in an entirely serious tone, “It isn't in Cudgel's nature to harm an ally, no matter his feelings toward them. It is the way of mercenary culture. As for Ivan–”

“–Ivan?” I repeated the name in confusion, inadvertently cutting Fable off.

She blinked at me. A brief glimpse of confusion that mirrored my own took hold on her face. Then, after a couple of seconds of silence, her eyes widened, and she burst out in laughter, a reaction that felt strangely unnatural coming from her.

“Wait, seriously?” she asked, “You actually didn't know his name? I thought you just refused to call him by it because of how much it got under his skin. You seriously didn't know his name this entire time?”

“Um, no?” I responded sheepishly.

That triggered more intense laughter from the partially elven girl. That had technically been what I was after when I told the joke that'd flopped earlier, but now that it was because of me, it just felt embarrassing.

“That is–ha ha–too good. Um, excuse me. Sorry for that. Anyway, I do not believe we have cause to worry about him. There would be too many questions should Cudgel come to harm on his watch, and I do not believe he has the guts to pull anything regardless.”

“That's good to know,” I responded, distinctly not mentioning that I hadn't been serious about that comment to begin with.

By this point, I could no longer hold onto any of the anger I'd initially felt at her suggestion to move on without our allies. Her reasoning was sound, and if it cost her mana just to safely exist in the room that stood between us, I could hardly demand we force our way back without an emergency. Instead, I picked myself back up and walked toward the entrance to the next room. There was something that was bugging me.

“Dungeons normally get more dangerous the deeper in you go, right?” I called over my shoulder, a bit louder than I'd meant to thanks to my having needed to talk over all that screeching in the room prior.

“Not always,” Fable answered, her amusement audibly leaving her voice as she spoke, “but more often than not, yes.”

“And this is supposed to be a weak Dungeon? Whatever hit me probably would've finished me off if it wasn't for you. Thanks for that, by the way. This can't be normal, right?”

“No, it isn't. This place is an anomaly. That's why it was condemned, at least officially. I know there was more going on behind the scenes I wasn't privy to, but even then, there's too much that doesn't add up about it.”

“Like that thing that jumped out of the wall at me?” I guessed.

“That is one example, yes. It isn't unheard of for monsters outside of a Dungeon's themes to appear inside of them on occasion. Other cases of it are documented, but they are usually only weak, local monsters. It isn't common knowledge, but the most common cause is enough of them dying inside of a Dungeon.

“Another way it happens is if a monster native to a Dungeon evolves into something distinctly different. As for whatever those shadows were, however, they're far too unusual and rare to be local. I am also certain they were only first-tier monsters, so that rules out the second possibility.”

“So, are we assuming outside interference?” I asked.

I felt like it was the most sensible conclusion, but Fable had a better mind for those kind of things than I did. Whatever she said, I'd trust her judgment on it over my own.

“Yes,” her answer was audible but distant, as though she were deep in thought, “To be more specific, I suspect the baron.”

“He was acting pretty suspicious, huh?”

“Yes, but that is not the primary reason I fear he is to blame, nor is it the secondary.”

“It isn't?” I perked up at her words, “What is then? Did I miss something?”

“Perhaps. There are two things in specific that point toward him being the culprit, even without accounting for his obvious motives. First, did you notice how he reacted when I pointed out the monster at the entrance?”

“Yeah, he claimed not to sense it.”

“Yes, but that isn't what I was referring to. I meant how he physically reacted.”

“What?”

“I was focusing on the monster, so I almost missed it, but I'm certain I caught a glimpse of him looking at it before I said anything. He noticed it. I know he did.”

“And that means what exactly?”

“Those monsters either aren't from here and are acting on his behalf, or he's procured and sacrificed enough of them to the Dungeon until they started appearing here naturally, which is illegal. Those are the two options I find most likely. Don't repeat them to Ivan or anyone else once we get out of here, though. We lack sufficient evidence, and it would only cause problems for the time being.”

“Politics?”

“Politics.”

I groaned at that. I hated politics and nearly everyone I'd met that engaged in them. Fable was probably the only exception to that rule. In many ways, she reminded me of a noble, which only made sense seeing as she was the great-granddaughter of the kingdom's branch of the Adventurer's Guild, but at her core, she was an adventurer through and through. I was pretty sure that was the main reason I didn't mind her as much.

“So,” I began after a brief moment of annoyance at the main source of all I considered to be wrong with the world, “what's the other reason?”

“This.”

I turned back to face her. In her hand was a vial. It was the one we'd found in the first room.

“The–what did you call it again? Permanent enhancer? What is that anyway?”

“You don't know?”

“Should I?”

“I would've assumed the military had pumped you full of them by now. They are an alchemical means of artificially raising your stats. They're exorbitantly expensive, especially for the higher grade stuff, but the noble standard is to raise all core family members' stats by at least ten points each, Ivan included. I, myself, have taken some of the best available, made by Felix Cornelius himself, enough to raise each of my stats by twenty points, the limit for someone in the second tier.”

My mind blanked at that.

“Twenty points?” I repeated.

“Yes.”

“Each?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn't that be like,” I paused briefly to do the math, “ten levels worth of extra stats?”

“At our tier, yes. The limit a person can benefit from them is ten levels worth according to their tier, so between levels one and twenty-four, someone could only get ten extra points per stat, but a person at level twenty-five could raise each by twenty.”

“Wow,” was all I could say.

“Did the military really not give you any?”

“Nope.”

“That's,” she paused, “odd.”

“You said they're expensive, right? Maybe they just didn't want to waste the money on me.”

“That's unlikely. If they consider you important enough to want to feed a Dungeon Core to you, they should consider you valuable enough to funnel some enhancers to, even if it isn't a full set. Believe me, whatever Felix paid the regional head off with to get you this one was more expensive than a full set of enhancers, and that's at the bare minimum, not even taking into account the fact that he himself can produce some of the best ones in the kingdom. He wouldn't have so much as needed to pay for the labor involved, and that makes up the bulk of the price.”

“Huh. Is it really that strange?” I asked.

“Yes,” there was no doubt in her voice.

“I dunno then,” I shrugged, “I mean, it isn't like they actually care about me. I'm pretty sure the military just sees me as an expendable weapon they can aim at the empire because of my Heroic ability. Against a nation famous for being ruthless and oppressive, having someone whose damage is dependent on how evil their opponent is sounds pretty useful, after all.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“I wasn't actually sure if you were aware of how they saw you. From what I've seen, your capacity to see through political motives can be …,” she trailed off.

“Nonexistant?” I offered, “Worthless? Less perceptive than a sheep is toward its shepherd before they butcher it?”

That earned me a giggle.

“I was going to say spotty at best, but sure, let's go with one of those.”

It was my turn to laugh.

“Anyway,” she continued, “yes, to be so crude, they do see you as a weapon. Anyone sensible, however, would want the best weapon they could get when preparing for war. That's why I'm shocked they haven't gotten you any enhancers yet.”

“Right,” I diverted, the topic at hand beginning to make me uncomfortable, “And that's one of those permanent enhancers?”

“Yes,” she answered, lifting the bottle up for me to see, “a Flawed Minor Mind Enhancement Fluid to be exact. Drinking it would give you two points in MIND.”

“You can tell all of that just by looking at it?” I asked, impressed.

“No,” her response caused me to deflate slightly, “I have a ring that mimics the effects of the Appraisal ability.”

“Oh, that's somehow more impressive, I think?”

“They're not too uncommon at higher levels and within the nobility, a bit pricey, sure, but not uncommon.”

“I see. So, the enhancer, is it good?”

“Not particularly, no. In fact, I'd say it's the worst I've seen. I suspect his apprentice made this. It's shoddy work, but all enhancers hold value. I'd offer it to you, but I'm going to need it for my report to the guild. My apologies.”

“Ah, no worries,” I waved her off.

“That does bring me to the third reason I feel so strongly that it's the baron that's set us up, however.”

“Wait, didn't you say there were only two reasons?” I asked.

“To be exact, I said there were two things that made me suspect him aside from his obvious motive, something I only feel stronger about after talking with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Simply put, I fear we may only be pieces in a much larger game. The baron was once the court alchemist, a title now held by Felix Cornelius, his old rival. It's no secret there are hard feeling between the pair, and rumors are plentiful that it was Lord Cornelius that was responsible for Sir Gyle losing everything. Now, that he's risen back to the rank of baron and is once more gathering political influence, it would not surprise me if Felix's interest in designating this Dungeon as condemned was only part of a grander scheme to quash his old rival before he could once again rise to threaten him. Likewise, it would only makes sense that Sir Gyle has gone to–let's say, 'extensive,'–lengths to protect what little he's recovered of his old life.”

My blood chilled before beginning to boil at her words. I was a tool, a weapon those in charge of this country were using for their own purposes. I'd already known that, and while it did bother me, I was fine letting that be the case so long as it still enabled me to do good. This, though, was something else entirely.

“So, I'm being used to destroy an old man's life!?” I asked indignantly.

She waved her hand in a lukewarm gesture in response before saying, “Yes but not really? I'd say you're more of a byproduct in all of this than anything.

“This Dungeon being destroyed isn't contingent on you being the one to destroy it. It's merely going to you consequently. If you haven't been provided enhancers, it shows how little he actually values you. Likely, it was only a matter of there not being a better candidate, and the man wanted his cake and to eat it too. He probably just saw the chance to have someone useful to him destroy it instead of a random adventurer and took it.”

I was still angry, but confusion at the way she phrased that took the place of some of that rage.

“No better candidate?” I asked, “What does that even mean? What about that noble? He sure seems loyal to him, and if I'm not valuable enough to even give enhancers to, why me?”

“That's simple. Ivan–er–that noble, ha ha, is fairly powerful; that's true, but he'll be less useful than you in the days to come. Also, he's at a low level. If he proves himself, Lord Cornelius may still find a way to provide him with a core, but it won't be for a long time. It would ruin his potential, after all.”

“Ruin his potential?” I repeated, not understanding.

She gave another lukewarm gesture.

“That may be a bit of an overstatement; however, it is true that having the Dungeon Slayer title heavily reduces the amount of experience a person gains. Customarily, they are funneled to people with levels in the high forties. It ensures they can benefit from the enhanced class upgrade without dooming them to never hit the third tier, treating the benefits of the title as a substitute for higher levels. It's common for people without the ambition to climb much higher than that.”

That made some degree of sense, but still, it gave me more questions than answers.

“What about you and Cudgel, though? You're only in the high thirties, not to mention me. I'm barely at thirty-three.”

“As we just established, you're viewed as a disposable tool. You're future potential likely doesn't matter to Felix. As for us, we both have our reasons,” she shrugged, “My elven heritage will ensure I live longer than a normal human, so I'll still have time to reach greater heights. Cudgel, on the other hand, plans to participate in the war through the Adventurers Guild. He wants it so that he'll be able to fight stronger opponents.”

“Ha!” I laughed, “That sounds just like him. You know, you're a lot more talkative than normal today.”

“Well, to be fair, I don't have Lord Cornelius's spy breathing down my neck at the moment, and I know you aren't one for all that's proper and stuffy anyway. I can afford to be a bit more lenient around you.”

The corners of my mouth twitched into a slight smile at that. I'd seen Fable as an ally up until this point, but maybe there was room for friendship there after all.

“Now, if you're done catching you're breath, shall we continue?” she asked as she walked up beside me.

“Sure,” I nodded, and as we made our way into the damp and oppressive atmosphere of the next room, I asked, “What do you plan on doing once the war really kicks off anyway?”

Instead of answering, she just said, “Talking in Dungeons is reserved for relatively safe areas. For now, be on guard.”

“Uh, right.”