Chapter 11

Dungeon VI (Dungeon Core)

The three continued to traverse the corridors of the Deep. Using the key, Bidelia opened several locked doors, each creaking ominously as it swung open to reveal more darkness beyond. The air grew colder and more oppressive with each step, and Mags could feel the weight of the dungeon pressing down on her shoulders. Hallway after damp and stinking hallway, Mags thought, grumbling to herself as she pulled her cloak tighter.

Eventually, Bidelia stopped and turned to them, her expression grave. “The dungeon’s core is not far ahead. We need to be prepared. The core is typically the most heavily defended part of a Deep.” Her voice was a whisper, but it carried the weight of her warning.

Mags and Sabo nodded, tightening their grips on their weapons. They moved beyond another locked door and into another narrow corridor. Bidelia suddenly stopped, her head tilted as if listening to something only she could hear. Her eyes widened, and she turned to them urgently.

“Take cover, now!” she hissed, pulling them into a small alcove.

Mags stilled her body, not even daring to breathe. A small horde of goblins charged down the corridor, their guttural grunts and growls echoing off the walls. The stench of blood and rot wafted over them, making Mags’ stomach churn. She pressed herself against the cold stone, hoping the darkness would conceal them.

The goblins didn’t stop to inspect the alcove. They were focused on something ahead, their eyes gleaming with fervorous intent. Mags could hear their footsteps receding. After a few moments of silence, she dared to take a shallow breath.

After what felt like an eternity, Bidelia whispered, “It’s safe to move again.”

For a moment, Mags felt the warmth of Bidelia’s magic washing over her, a gentle reassurance in this hellish place. Bidelia’s eyes were hard as steel. “We have to follow those goblins. They’re headed to the core.”

The group moved in the direction of the goblin horde, eventually stopping at another door. Sabo glanced at it warily. “Is it locked again?”

Bidelia shook her head. “No, but the goblins are on the other side. We’ll take a different way. Can’t just go barging in.” She led them down another corridor and up a flight of stairs, which brought them to a balcony. “Stay quiet,” she whispered.

On the balcony, they watched a horde of goblins gather around the base of a flight of stairs. The goblins held pieces of raw and rotting meat, carcasses of other beasts or monsters, and some held small glimmering aether cores of lesser Maldrath. Mags’ eyes widened in surprise at that last bit. Were the goblins killing Maldrath in the Deep?

The goblins ascended the stairs one or two at a time. Some returned from the doorway at the top of the stairs empty-handed and rejoicing, met with raucous applause from the horde. Occasionally, a goblin would ascend and, moments later, the sound of its screaming, pained and guttural, would fill the air, causing a wave of discontent to wash over the waiting horde. When this happened, the goblin would not return, and the next goblin or two would ascend.

Sabo furrowed his brow, watching the bizarre ritual. “They’re coming back empty-handed. It’s like they’re making offerings. But to what?”

“Maybe it’s a goblin lottery?” Mags added.

Bidelia’s eyes were dark with understanding. “The dungeon core is through that doorway at the top of the stairs. Whatever they’re making offerings to, it’s guarding the core.”

Mags’ mind raced. She had heard tales of dungeon cores, the heart of a Deep, the source of its power. Whatever was up there, it was something formidable enough to command the fear and respect of an entire horde of goblins.

Bidelia led them off the balcony and into a small room that she noted should be safe to camp. “We need to rest before we confront whatever is guarding the core,” she said. “We’ll take turns keeping watch.”

Sabo started a small fire, the flickering flames casting a warm glow that was a stark contrast to the cold darkness of the dungeon. Bidelia dug into their rations, distributing dried meat and hardtack. Mags began tending to her wounds, all superficial but countless, covering her body—a grim testament to her journey in the lower bowels of the Deep.

As they settled into a tense but necessary rest, the weight of their mission pressed down on them. The silence of the dungeon was filled with the distant echoes of goblins and the ever-present sense that they were being watched. Mags’ thoughts drifted to the egg in her satchel. Its presence was heavy at her side. She wanted nothing more than to withdraw it and admire its beauty, it yearned to be unhidden. No. She pressed down the unbidden thoughts.

Bidelia spoke softly, her voice a balm in the oppressive gloom. “We’ll take turns keeping watch. Sabo, you take the first watch. Mags, you take the second. I’ll take the last.”

Sabo nodded, his eyes tired but resolute. He positioned himself near the door, his axe ready at his side. Mags lay down, her body aching and exhausted. The cold stone floor was a poor substitute for a bed. She closed her eyes, but sleep was elusive. The images of the goblins, the writhing Maldrath, and the unknown terror guarding the dungeon core played over and over in her mind.

Finally, her body too exhausted to fight it any longer, she drifted off into a restless sleep.

image [https://i.imgur.com/7P7JEZo.png]

Mags was walking down a narrow stone corridor. The subterranean hall was dimly lit by the lantern in her left hand. The flame flickered weakly, casting long, jittery shadows against the rough-hewn walls. Her right hand ran along the wall, feeling the damp, uneven surface beneath her fingers. The air was thick with the scent of mold and earth, the silence punctuated only by the distant drip of water.

She walked with a singular purpose, though she couldn’t remember why. The end of the corridor loomed ahead, and there it was: that familiar emerald green door, etched with intricate silvery runes that seemed to shimmer in the faint light. She wondered for a moment when they had gotten into this part of the Deep. Panic prickled at the edge of her mind as she realized neither Sabo nor Bidelia were with her. She spun around, but the corridor behind her was empty, stretching on endlessly.

Then it hit her—this wasn’t the Deep. No, she had been in this hall for a long, long time. Time that seeped from the ancient stones and was echoed in her bones. The realization was a punch to her gut. Why was she still there? Her eyes drifted back to the door. Ah, yes.

Suddenly, the shadows in the hall began to boil and writhe, coming alive with a feral hunger. An umbral tide of Maldrath surged down the hall, their forms a seething mass of darkness, devouring the space between her and that green door.

Mags’ heart hammered in her chest as she reached for Mithra, but her hand grasped at empty air. Her sword wasn’t there. She flinched, the Maldrath swarming her, their cold, insubstantial bodies tearing at her senses, filling her with a suffocating dread. The shadows flooded into her open mouth, tendrils clawing at her nostrils. Before her eyes were consumed, she glanced the door, which seemed to recede into the distance.

image [https://i.imgur.com/7P7JEZo.png]

Mags jolted awake, her body drenched in a cold sweat. The remnants of the dream clung to her like a dark fog, and she took a moment to steady her breathing. She was still curled near the meager campfire Sabo had started, its embers casting a weak, flickering light. Her heart was pounding, her senses still on edge from the nightmare. She glanced around, the familiar sight of the rough stone walls grounding her.

Sabo sat nearby, keeping watch with his axe resting across his lap. His gaze was alert, scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the lingering terror. “Is it time for my watch yet?” she asked, her voice rough from sleep.

Sabo shook his head. “No, Bidelia and I covered it. You seemed like you needed the extra rest.”

A pang of shame washed over her. She had wanted to be strong, to pull her weight, but instead, she had succumbed to exhaustion. Taking in Sabo’s appearance, it was hard to believe she needed the additional rest more than him. Pushing down the shame in her gut, she didn’t continue that line of questioning. Instead, she rummaged around for the waterskin, taking a sip and savoring the relief of the cool water running down her throat. “Where’s Bidelia?” she asked, glancing around for the mage.

“She went to investigate the room with the entrance to the dungeon core,” Sabo replied, his eyes never leaving the shadows. “Wanted to make sure it’s clear before we move in.”

Mags nodded, still feeling the weight of her dream. Despite herself, she couldn’t remember any specific details, just an impression that was more of a feeling than anything. She forced herself to focus on the present, pushing the nightmare aside. They had a mission to complete, and she couldn’t afford to let fear distract her.

A few minutes later, Bidelia returned, her expression thoughtful. She took a seat near the fire and took a sip from the waterskin Mags handed her. “The ceremony seems to be over,” she said, her voice low. “The goblins have retreated from the entrance to the dungeon core’s chamber. The coast is clear, but I can’t tell what lies waiting at the top of those stairs. I’d bet nothing delightful.”

Mags felt a knot of tension in her stomach. The unknown was the most terrifying aspect of the Deep. Her experience hunting stray Maldrath had grown her accustomed to their patterns and predictable behaviors. A weakness I’ve been overlooking, she thought bitterly. They had no idea what they would face beyond that door. But there was no turning back now. They had come too far. I’m not a coward. I’m not running away.

The three of them prepared in silence, extinguishing the fire, checking their gear, and readying themselves for whatever trial lay ahead. The air was thick with anticipation, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Mags tightened her grip on Mithra, the blade’s familiar weight a comfort in her hand.

Bidelia led them to the large room where the goblin horde had gathered. It was eerily empty, the remnants of the goblins’ presence lingering in the form of discarded bones and pieces of rotting meat. The smell was almost unbearable, a sickly sweet stench that made Mags’ stomach churn. A rumbling sound drifted down the stairs, which seemed out of place in the oppressive silence of the abandoned room. Mags stepped forward, offering to take the lead. Neither Sabo nor Bidelia protested. The three of them climbed the stairs, their steps echoing in the vast chamber.

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The room at the top was even larger, its ceiling lost in shadows. Columns lined the walls, and in the center stood a three-tiered altar, illuminated by a beam of false moonlight descending from the ceiling. The sight reminded Mags of the altar in the room where she had found the strange egg. For as mundane as the room was in its décor, what inhabited the space was anything but. A giant goblin sprawled atop the altar. The creature was at least twenty feet long, its rotund belly shaking with the sound of its snoring. Its sickly green and warty skin was made more grotesque by its stark nakedness. Its only article of clothing the bejeweled crown which sat atop its head, glinting in the pale light.

Sabo whispered, “I didn’t think a goblin could get so large.”

Bidelia’s face was pale. “They shouldn’t. Goblin chieftains are typically larger than the ordinary goblin, but only by a head or so. This beast seems like a different species entirely.” Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the scene. Mags felt the familiar warm pulse as Bidelia Navigated the room with her magic. Bidelia’s face blanched further. “The dungeon core is inside that goblin,” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of the revelation.

“Inside it?” Sabo asked, incredulously.

Mags felt a cold dread settle over her. The offerings, the carcasses, and the aether cores—everything made sense now. The goblins had been feeding their king, and in turn, it had become something monstrous. Mags recalled Bidelia explaining how Deeps fed beasts, making them stronger and more monstrous.

Steeling herself, Mags tightened her grip on Mithra and climbed the altar, approaching the goblin king. “I’ll retrieve the dungeon core,” she said, her voice firm.

“Mags, wait—” Bidelia began, but it was too late. Mags was already at the top of the altar, steadying her blade like an executioner readying his sentence. She raised Mithra above her head and brought it down in a brutal swing. The blade bounced harmlessly off the goblin’s giant stomach, not even leaving a mark. She barely kept herself on her feet from the momentum of the ricochet. Mags stared in shock, speechless. The goblin king continued to snore, undisturbed by her attack.

Fury welled up inside her, at the goblin, at her own ineptitude, at the entire damned Deep. She swung again. And again. And again. Each strike was as useless as the first, Mithra’s blade glancing off the beast’s hide as though it was made of Ivaldi-wrought steel itself. Mags panted and spat. “What’s this bloody thing made of?”

At that moment, the goblin rumbled awake, its eyes snapping open to reveal a malevolent intelligence. Growling, the gigantic beast rolled over, swinging a clumsy arm at her. Mags leapt backwards, avoiding its hand as it crashed onto the altar floor. She stumbled further to avoid the goblin’s crushing weight as it rolled onto its belly. With snarling groans, the goblin king hoisted itself to its feet. Yellow spit running down its cracked lips, it took in Mags and the room with beady red eyes. From where she stood, she had the most unpleasant vantage point of the beast’s privates. I hope it’s not standing to relieve itself in the middle of its slumber, otherwise I’m in for a rude surprise.

The goblin king moved with surprising speed for its size, its massive limbs swinging with devastating force. Mags dodged a swipe from the goblin’s enormous hand, rolling to the side and coming up with Mithra ready. The goblin’s eyes tracked her movements, a low growl rumbling from its throat. She felt a surge of adrenaline, her muscles tensing as she prepared for the next assault. Sabo darted in from the side, his axe aimed at the creature’s knee, but the goblin kicked out, sending him sprawling across the floor.

“Damn it,” Mags muttered, her mind racing. She needed a plan, a way to get through its thick hide. Are there any soft spots on this beast? The goblin lunged at her, its massive fist slamming into the ground where she had been standing a moment before. She used the momentum to leap onto its arm, running up the length of it toward its head. If she could get to its face, maybe—

A powerful jolt sent her flying through the air as the goblin shook her off. She hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of her. She struggled to her feet, gasping for breath, as Sabo charged the beast again. He swung his axe in a wide arc, aiming for the back of the goblin’s left knee, but the creature turned with surprising agility and caught the weapon mid-swing and wrenched it from his grasp. With a roar, it tossed the axe aside and backhanded Sabo across the room.

Mags saw Sabo’s body slam into the wall and crumple to the floor, unconscious. Bidelia sprinted to Sabo’s side. Panic clawed at her chest, but she forced it down, focusing on the battle. She couldn’t afford to lose control now. Not when so much was at stake.

“Bidelia!” she shouted, glancing toward the Navigator. “We need to distract it!”

Bidelia nodded. She pulled handfuls of jewels from the small pack at her side, presumably part of the loot they had collected earlier in the Deep, and began to wave them in the air frantically. “Hey, you ugly oaf, want another snack? Feast your eyes on this!” she shouted.

The goblin twisted its neck in Bidelia’s direction. The jewels’ reflection gleamed in its bestial eyes. Mags took the opportunity to dash beneath the goblin, making her way to the space between its two large, swollen feet. Not sure what else to do, Mags thrust Mithra upwards and into the goblin’s dangling privates. When all else fails and your life is on the line, fight dirty.

The goblin roared in pain, hands clawing at where Mithra’s blade had pierced. Mags stumbled back, nearly avoiding being stepped on. She gritted her teeth and swung Mithra again, aiming for the same spot she had struck before. The blade missed its target and hit the inside of the goblin king’s leg, glancing off harmlessly. She cursed under her breath. There had to be a way.

Mags didn’t notice the goblin’s arm windmilling towards her and was too slow. The goblin’s hand closed around her, lifting her off the ground. She struggled, kicking and slashing with Mithra, but it was no use. The goblin opened its maw, a foul stench wafting from its gullet, and swallowed her whole.

image [https://i.imgur.com/7P7JEZo.png]

Inside the goblin’s gullet, Mags sloshed around in black liquid. The stench was overwhelming, the heat suffocating. From the corner of her eye, she spotted something glinting in the darkness. A luminescent stone, larger than her fist bobbed around in the goblin’s innards. The dungeon core! Mags splashed her way in the direction of the faint glow of the core. She grabbed onto it, her other hand gripping Mithra’s slick hilt tightly. She knew she didn’t have much time.

image [https://i.imgur.com/7P7JEZo.png]

Sabo regained consciousness, his vision blurry. He shook his head, trying to clear it, and saw the goblin king looming over Bidelia. With a groan, he forced himself to his feet, ignoring the pain that lanced through his body. He needed to help Mags. He needed to end this. Where is Mags?

Bidelia answered his unspoken question. “That thing swallowed Mags!” she choked.

Without hesitation, Sabo charged the goblin king, his movements fueled by sheer determination. He had no weapon, but he wouldn’t let that stop him. He tackled the creature’s leg, trying to throw it off balance. The goblin snarled, kicking him aside with ease.

The goblin king’s movements became frantic, its roars echoing through the chamber. Sabo, bloodied and battered, managed to find his discarded axe. He hefted it, grimacing in pain, and using both of his hands, lifted it above his head and hurled it at the creature’s eye. The axe’s bit struck true, burying itself deep into the goblin’s socket.

The goblin king howled in agony, its massive form convulsing. Sabo smirked. That one’s for Mags, he thought. He stared down the hulking beast. The goblin king moved its hand away from its bloodied eye, snarling. It lurched forward, and Sabo felt his stomach lurch at the realization that he was likely a goner. Then, the goblin froze. A ripple quaked from its rotund belly. Sabo caught the slight widening of surprise in the beast’s glinting eyes.

image [https://i.imgur.com/7P7JEZo.png]

Inside the goblin, Mags could feel the heat in the air intensifying, the walls of the creature’s stomach contracting around her. She tightened her grip on the dungeon core, pulling it free from its gooey, fleshy confines. The goblin king shuddered, a violent tremor running through its body. She spat and gritted her teeth. “I hope your stomach lining isn’t as tough as your hide!” Mags raised Mithra, driving the blade into the soft tissue around her. She felt a surge of satisfaction as the blade finally found purchase, tearing through the goblin’s insides.

Mags felt the creature’s insides lurch violently. She braced herself, holding onto Mithra and the dungeon core with all her strength. The walls of the goblin’s stomach contracted again, and she knew she had to act fast. With a fierce cry and all her might, she drove Mithra deeper, slicing through the thick, slimy flesh.

image [https://i.imgur.com/7P7JEZo.png]

The goblin king’s stomach finally gave way, bursting open in a shower of black ichor and entrails. Mags spilled out onto the floor, covered in the foul substance but still clutching the glowing dungeon core. The goblin king let out one last, pitiful groan before collapsing in a heap, its massive form twitching once, twice, and then going still.

Mags lay on the floor, gasping for breath, the dungeon core clutched tightly in her hand. She raised it triumphantly, a wide smile breaking through the layer of filth on her face. “We did it,” she panted, her voice hoarse.

Sabo stumbled over to her, his face etched with relief. “You crazy, stubborn woman,” he said, helping her to her feet. Were those tears she noticed in his eyes? “You actually did it.”

image [https://i.imgur.com/7P7JEZo.png]

Bidelia joined them, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. “That was... incredible,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But we need to get out of here. Now.”

Mags nodded, still catching her breath. “Right. Let’s go.”

As they turned to leave, the black ichor that had spilled from the goblin king’s gut began to move, pooling together and forming into Maldrath. Mags’ eyes widened in horror as the shadows took shape, their feral hunger palpable.

“Run!” Bidelia shouted, her voice cutting through the haze of exhaustion. “We need to get out of the Deep, now!”

The three of them sprinted through the dungeon, Bidelia leading the way. The Maldrath surged after them, a tide of darkness that threatened to overtake them at any moment. The chase was relentless, their footsteps echoing in the narrow corridors as they navigated the twists and turns of the Deep.

Mags’ heart pounded in her chest, her lungs burning with the effort. She could feel the shadows nipping at her heels, the cold touch of the Maldrath almost within reach. She pushed herself harder, her grip on the dungeon core never faltering.

Mags could feel the warmth of Bidelia’s magic radiating from her body at a near contant rate as Bidelia led them through a series of seemingly identical corridors. Eventually, they burst into a large chamber, a staircase leading up to the surface visible at the far end. “There!” Bidelia shouted, pointing to the exit. “Go, go, go!”

They raced up the steps, Maldrath pouring into the chamber behind them. Mags could feel the temperature dropping, the air growing colder with each passing second. She glanced over her shoulder and nearly stumbled at the sight; hundreds of claws and teeth stretching and distorting beyond their limit as they rushed towards them, only to break and collapse, melting back into the raging tide of shadows.

Finally, they burst out of the dungeon and into the clearing in the forest. Mags gasped, taking in a deep breath, the fresh air a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere of the Deep. Bidelia stopped at the entrance, her eyes closed in concentration. Mags felt a surge of power emanating from the Soulsinger. Not the warm, tingling sensation she had grown accustomed to during their time in the Deep. No, this was a raging fire.

The entrance to the Deep collapsed, blocking in the Maldrath before they could reach the outside world. Mags watched as the stones began to almost instantly move, reforming the entrance.

Bidelia let out a grunt of frustration, extending trembling hands toward the Deep and exclaiming as she released her power again. This time Mags didn’t just feel Bidelia’s power, it was radiating off of the woman’s slight shoulders like waves of heat on a distant road on a midsummer day. Bidelia’s mouth open and a rasping scream escaped her lips as she pushed herself further. Mags was struck by the sight. Bidelia’s arms began to convulse and Mags swore she noticed Bidelia’s skin reddening, the edges of her shirt singed. Finally, the entrance collapsed once more, the stones that had been reforming stopping midair and falling uselessly back to the heap of gray stone. But the Deep was still there—an outline of its gate filled in with crumbled stone and debris.

Bidelia fell to her knees, tears burning in the corners of her eyes. Sabo placed a hand on her shoulder, comforting her and helping her to her feet. “We need to get away from here,” he said softly. “We can’t stay.”

Bidelia sniffled, giving him a sharp nod. “You’re right. Let’s go.” She stepped forward, only to stumble before Sabo readjusted to support her weight.

Mags took her other side, gently placing Bidelia’s arm over her shoulder. Bidelia was light enough that she suspected either her or Sabo could carry her on their own, but Mags understood pride more than anyone. Slowly, Bidelia walked with the support of the other two on each side.

As they walked away from the Deep, Mags glanced back one last time. The collapsed pile of stones was a reminder of the horrors they had faced, but also of their triumph. They had successfully retrieved the dungeon core and survived the ordeal. She turned back to her companions, a sense of determination settling over her.