A Dungeon’s Survival

The King of the Forest

Claws, teeth, fur, and bone flew in a scene that'd already haunted my dreams for ages. The abomination before me, once the individual I respected most, had been reduced to merely a husk of what they'd once been. Even in this state, mind and soul erased as they were, her might was undeniable, and as she bore down on me, a deep, overwhelming regret threatened to consume all that I was.

This was all his fault. Had I only recognized the threat sooner, everything could've been avoided, but now, it was far too late. All that remained were traces of his lingering, foul magic, destruction that stretched for as far as the eye could see, and the stench of death that permeated the forest.

That stench! That accursed, unbearable odor, I could remember it as clearly as the first day I'd taken it in. It was the reek of rot and decay, but not only that, there was a wrongness to it that couldn't be found in nature. It was the scent of foul magic that thought itself above the natural order and left only a mockery of life in its wake. It was unforgettable, yet now, something about it felt off in a way it never had before.

No, this isn't right.

Somehow, as bad as the smell always was, as I took in now, it was worse than ever. Still, there were the noticeable undertones of faux life corrupting all that it could, but now, there were additional notes to the scent. There was the odor of char, a nauseating reek that felt as though it was trying to assault my very mind, and, behind all of it, was the underlying and unmistakable medicinal stench that always accompanied the alchemy of mortals. This was not the smell that had haunted my dreams for longer than I cared to remember. This was wrong. There was more to it.

With that realization, the air stilled and world around me ground to a halt. The Queen of the Forest froze midair, claws extended toward my throat and teeth snapping shut. The droplets of blood soaking my coat ceased to drip, and my surroundings began to waver. Like that, the flicker of a memory began to fade around me. I was waking up, but the smell remained, or to be exact, only the unfamiliar tang that had tainted it did. That part had not been a dream.

* * *

Noctis

I had moved as fast as I could, but the light of day was doing all in its power to stunt my progress. Ordinarily, attempting to move around in broad daylight would've been tantamount to suicide, but thanks to the alchemist of the master, it was only proving difficult.

Momentarily, I took shelter in the shade of a low tree and discarded yet another empty vial. I couldn't help but to worry we had underestimated how much it would take, but there was no going back now. The creator was relying on me, so instead of allowing myself to be bested by my fears, I instead drew another bottle of Liquid Shadow from the sack I carried and unsealed it. Immediately, the liquid within began wafting out of its container in the form of a dark, gaseous vapor.

Not much further left, I thought as I moved, allowing the contents of the potion to do their best to conceal me from the light that sought to dispel my very body.

Despite leaving the moment my creator bid me to, my trip was taking far longer than I'd initially hoped. Finally, though, my destination was coming in to view. Before me lied the cave of the Onikuma.

I couldn't help the shudder that ran through my amorphous body as I approached the hill. Just like the time I'd attempted to break into the home of that alchemist, Sir Peter Gyle, every fiber of my being was screaming at me to turn and flee. It was the same reaction I'd had when I first discovered this place alongside Prism, and it was the same reaction I'd had in the early hours of the morning when I'd returned to make my preparations. It was a deep and visceral feeling, shaking me to my core, yet I could not heed it, for I had work to do.

It was not the mouth of the cave that I headed for once I arrived. Instead, I made my way to the other side of the hill where I'd stashed what my creator had given me ahead of time. There, we hoped my target would be unable to sniff it out. Considering the fact it was still there, intact for me to find, it seemed to have worked. Just as I'd left it, there, tucked away, sat a large metal cauldron full of a dark and foul substance: the remnants of failed experiments. It was to be my weapon against the bear, but first, I needed to collect it.

It was no easy task hauling it from its recess in the hill. Without the Elixir of Minor Strength I'd been given, I doubted I'd have even been able to manage it, especially considering my need to open up another vial of Liquid Shadow as I did so. Two arms was not enough to lug that basin of horrific toxins around, but for a brief period of time where I needed to withdraw my second pair from the task, I was forced to make do. I nearly managed to dump the entire thing on myself during that time, something from which there would've been no coming back from, such a blunder meaning complete and utter failure, but despite my close call, I managed.

Once I renewed my protection against the harsh sunlight beating down on me, I was able to drag the cauldron the rest of the way up the hill. That was the place where my mission truly began. It was also where I couldn't help but to waste a precious minute as I struggled to work up the nerve to do what came next.

It's do or die, I told myself as I wasted another vial of Liquid Shadow, despite not having enough that I could comfortably afford the luxury.

Eventually, I did manage to work up the nerve, however; though, after what came next, I almost wished I hadn't. The moment I phased the basin through the ground and past the thick layer of stone that separated the bear's den from the surface above, I saw it. The beast was stirring, and not even a moment later, it began to rise, jolting upright with its head snapping in my direction.

The intense look of hatred in its eyes was almost enough to cause me to falter in the last moment, but the consequences of failure were far too dire for that to be an option, so in spite of the terror coursing through me, I held true to my mission. With almost no time to correct my aim, I thrust my payload forward, dropping it atop the monster's head. It did not turn as it fell, however, instead landing upright upon the beast's skull.

If the creature felt the force of the impact, it showed no sign of it. It merely continued to stare me down, its intent to obliterate me evident in every aspect of its demeanor, from its fierce, soul-chilling glare to the deep rumble building from the depths of its throat. It wanted me dead, and there was nothing that would stand between it and my absolute ruin, nothing except for the container that, after crashing down on the beast, sloshed and bounced, finally coating it in a repulsive layer of sludge. Where all else failed to faze the creature, that triggered a reaction.

“Graah!” it roared out loud enough to cause the small cavern to shudder.

In a single moment, all of the terror I'd been pushing down shot back into the forefront of my perception. This was not the kind of beast I could hope to stand against. Even now, fleeing from it as I tried to lure it back to my home felt like an impossible task.

As I shuddered, I could only bring myself to think a single thought, I am going to die.

I didn't wait around any longer after that. In my panic, I no longer cared if I succeeded. I no longer cared to make sure it followed me or even to see if it consumed the potion my creator had gifted it. All I knew was that if I didn't take advantage of the single moment of distraction my unexpected ambush had bought me, I would soon perish, likely for good.

Knowing that, I allowed my body to move on its own, instinct driving me in place of the rational thought I could no longer muster. Nothing else mattered. I only need to flee as quickly as I could, and that is exactly what I did.

* * *

Fable

Boom!

I gently rubbed my temples. I had healed the damage we'd taken from wading through the Failed Mind Enhancement Fluid along with what we'd had spat on us by birds, but despite my best efforts, I had been unable to fully alleviate our headaches, a problem that was only worsened by all of the explosions set off during our advance. It was nearly enough to make me exclaim in excitement when we finally broke through the last of the verdant barrier that'd been hindering our progress–nearly enough.

“It's okay. You can be at ease,” I forced myself to say as we set foot in the next room, which just so happened to be a surprisingly peaceful, grassy hill with a tree at its summit, “There's nothing here. I'd still recommend watching your step, but we're not about to get ambushed again.”

“It's not that I don't trust you,” Sean responded hesitantly a moment later, “but after what I've seen of this place, I'll believe it when I see it.”

“Good. Adventurers who get careless don't tend to live long lives. Refrain from wearing yourself down more than you have to, though. When subjected to too much mental pressure for extended periods of time, people often start jumping at their own shadows. Indulge in what limited sense of security you can.”

“Ha,” he laughed uncomfortably, “with the shadows in this place, I think it might be just a bit too late for that.”

“Ha, you're not wrong, but I really don't sense anything in here, not even a drop of mana above the ambient levels. The ceiling above us is clear–well, it is comparatively to the other rooms we've passed through–and there aren't any magical traps in the area. I can't entirely dismiss the possibility of more explosive gas, but so far, I've noticed magical winds to be accompanying pockets of the stuff, winds that are noticeably absent from this room. It appears, in large part, to be safe. I am unable to say as much for the connecting rooms, however.”

“Are they bad?”

“Mm, some, relatively.”

“Ugh, speaking of which, which way should we go from here?”

It was a good question. Visible from where we stood, there were three paths available to us: one in the back of the room, one in the center of the ceiling, and one off to the side. It took a bit more effort than usual for me to get a good idea of where each one might lead, my Mana Sense requiring the equivalent of rubbing debris from my eyes and squinting to get the readings I wanted, but the real path forward was unmistakable.

“Forward leads to the Dungeon Core,” I announced, “There are also a few mana signatures coming from the top of the shaft. One I think is that Horned Draco from earlier, but the other two are muffled. There's likely a wall between them and us. As for the path to the right, it seems to be a shortcut to the surface.”

“Wait, did you just say a shortcut? Seriously?” astonishment and disbelief entered his voice, “You're telling me we didn't actually have to go through all of that?”

“It would seem that way, yes,” I gritted out, similar feelings to his welling up from deep within me, “I suspect the baron withheld information about it in order to sabotage us, as he has clearly done with so many other things.”

The look on Sean's face twisted into a complicated mixture of emotions that mirrored my own. I was also feeling an undignified amount of resentment toward that old man right about now, but worrying about that in the moment wouldn't get us anywhere, so I continued.

“Ordinarily, I would suggest that one of us remains in this room while the other clears out whatever is waiting for us up above–it's never a good idea to leave yourself open pincer attacks–but we have neither the manpower nor the resources to spare for the time being. Instead, I believe we should continue onward in an attempt to deal with the core as soon as possible. Once that is done, the rest of this Dungeon will cease to be a concern.”

“I see,” he responded, “Well, you are the expert. Should we get going then?”

“Yes, but first, allow me to give you a warning. I'm sensing more powerful mana signatures from the next room than we've seen so far. Expect a fight the moment we walk through that passage.”

“Great. Got it.”

“Also …” I hesitated.

“What is it?” he turned back to face me, which only made things worse.

“Don't rule out the possibility of second-tier monsters,” I quickly said in order to distract from what I'd been about to say, “This Dungeon is far more dangerous than it's supposed to be.”

I'd been conflicted from the moment I'd felt it. On one hand, I wanted to tell him, but at the same time, I couldn't afford to risk distracting him. Regardless of how I felt, he needed to remain in the dark for the time being. The alternative was far too risky.

As we'd been making our way through the last passage, the ambient mana levels had risen by small amounts, not once but three times. There was only one thing I could think of that could lead to such a thing. Ivan, Cudgel, or the both of them, at least one of the pair had died; of that, there was little doubt in my mind.

I wasn't sure if telling him now or later would be worse. Either way, I suspected he'd end up blaming himself and, rightfully, me. I had objected to us going back and helping them, after all. This would likely be enough to destroy any friendly relations between us and would almost certainly cloud his judgment. That was why, even if I feared it would make things worse in the long term, I decided it was something I'd need to hide from him until after all of this was over.

“Treat this as a far more dangerous Dungeon than we have been,” I said in way of covering my true thoughts, “Going forward, expect anything.”

He gave me what was possibly the most serious look I'd ever seen from the man and answered, “Understood.”

A pang of guilt hit me at that, but I quashed it down and took a step forward. There was neither the time nor use for those kinds of thoughts in such a dangerous place. The situation called for complete, unwavering decisiveness, and that was exactly what I intended to give it. I only wished my headache would abate already. It was making that far harder than it should've been.