So I may have gotten a bit distracted. Productively distracted, so that’s good! But uh, yeah I kind of forgot the whole ‘I’ve been discovered’ thing.
Point for me, I made myself less linear! Now I kind of look like a pokeball, if you were to see my layout from a bird’s eye view. I didn’t want to just connect my Terrace Garden and Ancient Forest zones though, and I didn’t want just a flat wall, so I ended up making a secondary route between them, for if someone can’t or just doesn’t want to do the water crossing puzzle in the Pondscape zone.
Speaking of which, I’ve been experimenting with that light enchantment, and I’m quite proud of my work! I was able to shift the enchantment from emitting photons to emitting sound waves (surprisingly similar, at least in the odd paint/programmer language enchantments use), which I overlaid on my miniature lake. That’s another odd thing, enchantments don’t necessarily have to be overlaid on a specific object, they can also be overlaid on an area, or even just the features that make an… ‘environment’, I guess you’d call it? It’s oddly both very flexible and very strict in how an enchantment works and what it can affect. For now I’ll internally refer to item-specific ones as enchantments, and area-specific ones as wards, for clarity.
But yeah, I have a MIDI-esque ward over the lake, tuned to copy the constellation reaction ward but in sound. I had to add some variables and tune the ward to make it actually sound good, but now that I’ve got a copy of that, I should be able to reuse that ward-program to other things fairly easily if I need it again. As for the ‘glass’ walls separating the Garden and Forest zones, I cooked up something special, using my material science major and my many hours roaming the internet, and exploiting the fuck out of being what is essentially a living atomic-level 3D printer.
Aluminium Oxynitride, or ALON. 3 basic, common elements, in the cubic spinel crystal structure, make a ceramic that is not only clear as glass, but can also stop bullets. Last I checked it was being tested in sensor and bulletproof material applications, but the manufacturing costs made it a bit pricey until mass production could be built up. Not an issue for me though! Right at each intersection of the zones, I make a big, half a foot thick slab of the stuff grow out of the walls, making sure to fuse them to the walls at the atomic level and reinforce the walls where they attach, just in case someone tries to dig around rather than go through.
I have to raise and lower the door by myself though, so for now the amulet that I’ve hidden in the Gardens is just a way to alert me to the fact that someone has solved the hidden item puzzle. The light itself is just a bunch of very fine light source enchantments smushed real close together and lit in sequence to make the light look like its ‘growing’ from the amulet. Also the ‘gold’ in the tungsten carbide amulet is just particularly good-looking pyrite. I don’t want to have to make it more than a few times, since I know for a fact someone is going to try and steal it to sell the ‘gold’.
As for my beasties, things are pretty normal. I metaphorically facepalmed when I remembered that the amber gave me just fragmented DNA that I reconstructed into one whole piece, which means I could literally just take a bit of fur from my Fennice to create more of them. Which I did! The true walls of the Terraced Garden zone now has several dungeon-born families of Fennice, so that the natural born family can continue to populate without needing to worry about genetic problems thanks to incest. I made at least 2 of each Aspect I know of in the male’s tails, including Info enchanting mana, which oddly enough made their tails naturally form braided fur, giving their tails a thinner, almost whip-like look.
The super mice have been progressing nicely as well, along with the gleamwing ravens. The older raven I made seems a bit grumpy though, not sure why. I think the ravens might be a bit obsessed though? All the other ones keep dancing at the foot of the tree protecting my Core, and at this point it looks like a ritual or something, they keep doing it before they eat. The mice at least seem less inclined to worship, the only mildly concerning thing is that the main leader of the mice wears the dazzling feather my adult gleamwing dropped like a particularly stiff cape. They’re very industrious though, the mice have already started making nest structures from the bramble’s wood.
Oh, and the air wisp-insect thing finally seems to have reproduced! They left a whole bunch of glittery, gemstone-looking eggs on the damp walls of the Pondscape zone, so I feel better about absorbing it for its blueprint. I wasn’t willing to try and absorb only a bit of it, since I’m not really sure what parts are important for it, and if it even uses DNA. With a pulse of mana through the root it was floating in, it unravels surprisingly easily, and I find quite the surprise.
So, for clarity, most every animal uses Aspected atoms for their DNA, since that’s another way to store data other than the basic biochemistry. That doesn’t necessarily mean the rest of them are made of Aspected atoms though. In fact, the vast majority of any lifeform is made of regular matter, with partially mana-based organs sprinkled in here or there, like how the Fennice have hair follicles in their tails that resonate with specific mana type to imbue the growing fur with that kind of mana. The wisp is on the other end of that spectrum, mostly magic with only hints of matter to hold it all together. It’s essentially living magic, which makes my wisp name closer to reality then I knew.
Before I can get into the R&D with the air wisp evolution though, I feel that ice-shiver feeling of intruders go down my metaphorical back once more. The main difference being that the first time, it felt like someone put an ice cube down the back of my shirt. This time, it feels like I got dumped with a bucket of ice water! My attention snaps to my entrance, spotting 3 new people, seemingly saying farewell to other people just outside of my view. It’s kind of hard to tell what’s going on when their auras feel monstrous though. I feel like I’m going to be eaten!
First off, lizardman. Well, lizardwoman. She has a short snout, scales that blend in well with my black stone, and a mane of feathers in a mix of oranges and reds matched with orange, slit pupils. Other than those and the tail, surprisingly human-looking. Her aura feels like many flavours of fire, and I know that sounds weird but that’s the closest analogy I can make. It’s like her aura just. Is fire, to the point that I actually see a few different variants of the Fire aspect just watching her mana interact with my air and stone. Next to her is what I can only describe as a bear werewolf, tall enough that his head nearly scrapes against my ceiling. He’s covered in thick fur and the occasional discolored scar, carrying a massive pickaxe of all things. His aura feels like the smell of an old forest mixed with an unstoppable force, like if he starts moving, there’s nothing that could stop him.
The last one is probably the oddest to my senses, and honestly would make me sweat if I could actually do that anymore. She’s sticking to the large bear-man like spiderman would to a wall, and she seems to have two different bodies overlaid on top of each other. One is a normal, slim human woman with short black hair, a tired look in her eyes. The other is a sinister-looking toad gremlin thing, only about half her size. They both kind of overlap each other? It’s a bit nausea-inducing to look at, honestly. They keep focusing and unfocusing into two distinct images and one hybrid fusion in my senses, and their aura feels like a slimy swamp trapped in a transparent cage. I think I can feel other things in the background of their aura, but it’s hard enough focusing on them so I’m not even going to try looking deeper.
In more positive news, I have more data on the blessing thing people get when they enter my dungeon now! I take a look at the lizardwoman’s charred scroll in particular, since she’s the least intimidating of the group.
=========================================================================================
Diver’s Boon: The Scholar (Miniscule)
Little is known of this aberrant structure, made of sculpted stone. The air here seems oddly tranquil, and the strange life inside is plentiful, perfect for a scholar to muse on the mysteries of the world.
Effect:
Mana-based skills form slightly faster than normal. All Scholar-Type skills gain a minor boost in effect while within this structure.
Note:
This Boon is withdrawn thanks to your affective strength being higher than Dungeon strength by a factor of 3 or more.
=========================================================================================
While they discuss the Boon itself, I find myself breathing a small sigh of relief. Even if it won’t amount to much, the fact that stupid-strong people like this won’t get a boon to screw me over even more is nice. I mean seriously, I’ve only been in this world for a few days, how the heck am I expected to scare away people like this?! As the group makes their way down my now much shorter entrance corridor, I send a mix of caution and warning out into my zones, essentially telling them all to be prepared. I tell the Fennice, Super Mice, and Gleamwings in particular to hide away, since I actually have an investment in the latter two, and the former are smol babies and I refuse to let them die, and you can fight me on that.
A sense of tension completely separate from my own fills the air of the dungeon as the trio walk into the Terraced Gardens, the wildlife seeming to both quiet down and get louder at the same time. The bear-man in particular seems the most intrigued out of them, taking in big, scent gathering breaths to take it all in. The lizardwoman seemed to get bored quickly though, starting to wander through the zone with a dull look on her face. Bearman and his gremlin(?) sidekick do the normal thing and go straight for the Pondscape zone in front of them, only taking a few moments to cross the archway between the two zones and activate the puzzle.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
They tense up as soon as they feel the detection ward, seeming more surprised than worried, but watch the little puzzle I put up play out. The reactions are...disappointingly minimal, I’m assuming they’re both the kind to show emotion in small ways. They speak for a moment, before the frog gremlin girl nods and jumps from his shoulder into the water with barely a splash. She takes to the lake like a duck-well, amphibian to water, though I do notice trails of...not exactly magic, since it isn’t using mana directly, but magic-like effects take place and her aura decreases by almost unnoticeable amounts, so I’m assuming she’s doing something magic-adjacent.
Either way, her water resistance pretty much disappears, and the water in a sphere about two dozen feet around her starts to move with her, apparently coming under her control. Thanks to that, she has free reign in my Pondscape zone, which feels somewhat unfair but is hopefully just a poor matchup. She uses the water to push the Lakelurker and Black Tangler grass away from her before they can tangle her up, and she swims circles around the macro-aphid crabs before they can do more than rouse from their spots. The only creatures that can even start to keep pace with her are the Otterverns, though they’re more mischievous than anything else.
Unharmed, she scouts out the bottom of the lake and the crossing columns, before returning to the surface on the entrance-side to talk with Mr. Bearman. I’ll need to figure out how to vary the Pondscape puzzle now that I think about it, otherwise people will be able to just do it whenever they want without even paying attention. I want it to be an easy puzzle, but I don’t want it to be that easy!
In better news, the reptile woman was amusing to watch. While the other two investigate my Pondscape zone, she wanders around the Terraced Garden zone, looking at all the plants and taking some samples, surprisingly enough. I didn’t take her for a collector or alchemist or something, but I guess that’s what I get for assuming. One of my Super Mice, despite the hunker down order, decides to be a little brat to the intruder. They grab one of the armored worms from the colony’s quickly growing food stash, silently climbs up to a mouse bridge, and when she crosses under it, drops the worm right into her feather hair.
Being what I assume is a high-level adventurer, she notices the weight immediately. Unlike what I’d expect from a professional, she promptly bursts into flame and screams. While she’s dancing in her spot and waving her arms, trying to get the already ashed worm out of her mane, the mouse runs off and I find myself panicking. Did I find a hidden weak point or something? Is she going to die? She’s on freaking fire and I can’t make water to put her out holy fuck-oh, Mr. Bearman just smacked her upside the head and she got put out, completely fine. Fuck that was scary! Wait, how did he-you know what, I’m assuming more non-magic bullshit and calling it there, I’m too stressed for this.
Other than some smoldering and smoking plants nearby, there’s thankfully little damage done to the zone, and the two of them start conversing. The lizardwoman seems more abashed than anything, with Mr. Bearman scolding her as the froglin woman pads up to them, apparently not having the speed bullshit the ursa werewolf displayed. Walking a few feet further along the ambling path, she spots the meeting point between the Terraced Garden and Ancient Forest, turning her head to look at her teammates, pointing as she speaks up.
The other two look from the froglin girl back to each other a few times, before walking over to see it too. The lizardwoman, faced with how close she was to a proper discovery, hangs her head and arms down in shame. If this was an anime, she’d have those straight purple depression lines hanging over her, it’s hilariously expressive! With a pat on her back from Mr. Bearman, the group makes their way down the rest of the path, the ursine taking the lead. Thankfully, bears are not known for having the best sight and he slams snout-first into the barrier.
If I had a mouth and lungs, I’d be dying of laughter right now! Instead a sense of the feeling surges through the dungeon, and a background of squeaky mouse laughs, barking Fennice joy, and the distant squawking and tweeting of birds acts as a laugh track. Mr. Bearman growls low in his throat before composing himself, sending little miss firewoman a glare as she snickers at the fumble. Froglin girl walks up next to him and puts her hand against the ALON, asking something of the two. Mr. Bearman says something while rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck, and I suddenly feel an ominous premonition.
He winds up a hit with his pickaxe, and within only a second or two layers multiple not-magic things (I’m going to call them skills, since that’s the closest thing I can think of) together. There’s probably at least 3 full-body skills that activate and merge together, visible as a tri-color film mixing in with his fur. Several more activate in his head and body, at least I’m assuming, considering his musculature bulges in unison for a few moments. More skill-power imbues itself into his pickaxe, and what looks to be runes light up along its sides (I don’t think it’s directly related to the pickaxe skill, but they definitely synergize). Then, he swings.
I’m very glad I decided to tell my more prized creatures to hunker down, because it’s like a hurricane decided to smash through the cavern. The water immediately around the trio just mists and blows away, forced farther into the Garden zone, along with most of the plants and soil in the three nearest circular terrace gardens. The two women, despite their proximity, barely have to brace against the winds to keep from being blown away. The ceramic glass, despite being half a foot of bulletproof-ness, shatters like fine china.
Most of it stays in large chunks, but a variety of smaller chunks, shards, sand and powder is made too. It all shreds through the new growth trees and plants in the Ancient Forest directly in front of the barrier for a good dozen and a half feet, along with crushing some forest rats and a nectar sparrow. As the racket calms down and Mr. Bear lets out a big breath of steam, I’m just. What. That’s some actual, genuine bullshit if you ask me! Like, big guy, some skills, probably going to put a big crack in the ALON, maybe take a chunk out, but just fucking obliterate the barrier?
Alright, alright, deep breath in, and out. What I need to do right now is pay attention to make sure I can get as much data as I can. For one, Mr. Bearman sways on his feet for a second before going back to normal, so he’s some kind of burst fighter rather than being able to do that continuously. Froglin girl gives him a flat ‘you done?’ kind of look, and he just looks a bit sheepish as they walk over and through the jagged mouth of glass left over from the barrier, looking at the evaporating glass-wait evaporating glass?
Huh, that’s...yeah, I guess I’ve never had something be destroyed by someone other than me before, this is a new instinct feeling thing. Despite the fact that I can’t willingly dissolve or create things, there’s an almost automatic twitch in my roots, kind of like when your leg twitches on its own, and the glass dissolves into little motes of light before disappearing back into my roots. The two rats and 3 nectar sparrows killed in the blast dissolve into light two, but something even odder happens there.
Some of the motes of light, rather than disappearing into my root system, gets sucked into Mr. Bearman’s chest like a funnel, adding to his aura in an inexplicably completing way, though the amount it increases his aura is barely noticeable. The thing that grabs the most of my attention though is the straight up loot that drops from my creatures. Some of the energy, instead of dissolving into light, transmutes into items, though only one from one of the rats and one from the nectar sparrows. The rat drops what looks like a still furred leather hand wrap, and the nectar sparrow looks to have dropped an arrow’s fletching, or maybe a bolt considering the small size.
It’s definitely interesting, and I plan on exploring the function later, but for now I’ve got bigger worries. I know for a fact now that there’s no way to even try to physically scare them off, but I’m not just going to let them stomp through my dungeon, destroy and disrespect my puzzles, and kill my creatures without at least creeping them out.
As the group starts walking into the Ancient Forest zone, I send mental orders throughout my dungeon, and things get ominous. All sound just stops, only the distant drips of water and the trickle of the Pondscape waterfall to fill the sudden gap in noise level. They pause, wary, with froglin girl slowly picking up the two drops and slipping them into one of her pockets. As they watch, the edge of the forest where the damage is minimal fills with dozens of eyes, forest rats, spear-beaked feathered raptors, bloodpeckers and every other animal I have perch or sit or stand, just watching them.
The trio, obviously, prepare for a battle, fire cloaking the lizardwoman’s hands and the froglin girl’s tongue poking out of her mouth and sprouting boney spikes, Mr. Bearman standing in front of them with pickaxe at the ready. The problem for them is that nothing actually happens, the tension simply increasing more and more as the wildlife all stares at them. After several long minutes, the ursine finally takes a slow step forward, and when nothing happens they start moving forward.
Once the group reaches only a few feet away from my creatures, they start to step away from them, in sync with their steps, keeping an even 4 foot distance from them all. Left in a bubble of silent stares, the trio start making their way through the zone, though the whole ‘being stalked by a mob’ thing kind of ruins the atmosphere. Lizardgirl even tries putting her-now unlit-hand out to see what would happen, but other than some hissing and moving farther out until she pulls her hand back in, my loyal minions don’t do anything else.
Eventually, they make their way into the small clearing with my Core and tree cage, absolutely bursting with plant life. Despite my Core instincts screaming in the back of my head at how close they are to me, I ignore it in order to hold back my creatures from attacking for the same reason. They look around cautiously, but Lizardgirl, being the most rambunctious of the trio, walks up to my core with little more than a cautious look at the animals still looking at them from the edges of the clearing. She looks at my core curiously, probably thanks to my odd shape and the tree surrounding me, holding up a hand and slowly bringing it closer. Mr. Bearman says something to her, but she waves him off, hand inching closer…
With a raucous caw, my adult Gleamwing raven flaps down from his hiding spot, flapping his wings and getting in her face, giving me a heart attack in the process. Thankfully for my non-existent circulatory organ, she doesn’t roast him alive, apparently aware enough of the situation-even if they could decimate my animal population without trying-to simply back up and flail her arms to try and get him away, blinking rapidly from the dazzle of his wing feathers. Mr. Bear yanks her away by the back of her shirt after another moment, and my raven ends up perched on one of my Core tree’s branches, ruffling his feathers pompously before giving the trio a stern glare and another screeching bark.
The three converse for a few more moments before Mr. Bearman gives my core an odd look, which I respond to with a quick prompt to my raven, who does the equivalent of a middle finger in their new dance-birdsong language. The group turns to leave through the quickest path, a straight walk through the Pondscape with froglin girl leading the way across the hidden columns. The water puzzle activates again as they cross the entrance side-right, I need to fix that-and they make their way to the dungeon opening. They stop there, still inside my area of influence, apparently talking to someone just outside of it, and lizardgirl seems ready to walk right out before Mr. Bearman stops her with a hand on her shoulder.
He looks back at the cave mouth of my dungeon, contemplating something before encouraging them to do the ritual thing my first group did. I guess some people are more into doing the ritual than others? That axe wielding guy certainly seemed more casual than the other two, so I guess it makes sense. None of this group actually do the whole kneeling thing, but I actually kind of prefer that over the almost worship-looking stance.
The ritual feels a bit more foggy this time, though I’m not sure if that’s because of their powerful auras or from the informality of it, but I get a sense of chagrined apology from Mr. Bearman, a faint amusement from froglin girl, and exasperation from little miss godzilla. From Mr. Bearman, I get a small totem-like carving, made from some kind of reddish-tan, very fine grain wood. Lizardgirl pulls a throwing knife out of a pocket that looks too small to hold it, made of a black hilt, bronze-colored pommel and guard, and a bright orange blade.
Froglin girl takes a moment longer to ponder, before rummaging through her pack. After a moment, she pulls out a small, articulated horse toy. It’s made of a mix of wood, metal, and different kinds of crystal, and looking deeper I can see a much more complex web of enchantments than the light stone I got. She presses a button on its back when she sets it down, and the horse starts walking around. It’s a golem!
Despite the fact I’m still a bit mad at them for the destruction, that golem horse toy alone makes me much happier about the whole ordeal. After they leave my influence and I start processing the stupid amount of new mana they left, along with fixing up the dungeon and absorbing the offerings, I can only hope I won’t have to deal with more senseless destruction for these prizes.