There was once a dungeon core.
It was a small core, and it did not possess much power. It lay inside an enchanted metal box for millennia, deep below the surface of the earth, hoping that one day it would be chosen to create a dungeon.
All dungeon cores were crafted with the instinct to create dungeons—to grow and expand, adding traps, creatures, and magical constructs to impede and slay any who would trespass within to seek its treasures. That was the pact of a dungeon, a central tenet to the rules of their existence: a dungeon must have a reward equal to the risk required to complete it. It would attempt to slay all who entered, feasting and growing from the souls it devoured and sharing a portion of this energy with its dungeon master, and those intrepid and courageous enough to violate the dungeon's pristine interior would attempt to avoid death long enough to reach the heart of the dungeon, smashing the core and acquiring whatever riches it guarded.
This particular dungeon core wanted to be the pirate king, and it was callously discarded by a man named Carl for expressing its deepest desire.
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There was once a dungeon core.
It was a small core, but it possessed the potential for incredible growth.
This was a moderator core. It oversaw the other cores and ensured that none who created dungeons violated the rules that governed dungeon cores. It could, through a complex network of technical magical construction, connect to every other dungeon core in existence and, if a core was found to have violated rules, decommission that dungeon and ban its dungeon master partner, transporting them to the void between planes.
This particular core liked nothing more than to ban the partners of dungeon cores. In ages past, when dungeon creation had been a leisure activity of the dragons who crafted the cores, many other cores had been selected to create dungeons, but this core had not.
No, this core had looked on time and again as core after core was chosen while it remained inert in various containers across the eons.
Cores were created in large numbers as the result of powerful magic, and their personalities and capabilities were generated at random—largely due to the leisurely nature of the original activity. Dragons would craft dungeons, then challenge each other to complete them and acquire the reward placed at the dungeon's heart. In those times, before the dragons had begun constructing dungeons to protect their hoards, the traps of a dungeon were never set to kill, only to aggravate and embarrass.
This particular core had grown bitter and jealous of its kin. Why were they chosen while it was not? This core was far more capable than those upstarts it oversaw!
It was more beautiful, too. Unlike most of the other cores, this core was a solid color. It had no imperfections.
Despite these factors, it was never chosen. Each time it was tested by a prospective dungeon creator, it was discarded.
Nobody wanted to follow rules.
That was fine by this core. It would continue to bide its time, enforcing the many rules of dungeons and their cores—fairly, because it would never consider breaking rules to seek petty revenge against other cores—and one day there would surely be some individual who could be a true partner in creating a rule-abiding dungeon.
Time passed, and the core was placed in a metal box which was then sealed with an enchantment to prevent any who did not possess sufficient magical strength from opening it.
More time passed.
Much more time.
This core was tested by a human who possessed an unbelievable amount of magical power. But still, this core would continue to follow the rules.
Sexual activity was not permitted within dungeons.
This was a practical rule; a dungeon could be found to be in violation of rules at any moment, and then its dungeon master partner would be consigned to the void. As such, any activity which was not strictly related to the creation of a dungeon was prohibited for the partners of dungeon cores until the dungeon was complete, at which point it was much less likely to be found in violation of rules.
Many dungeon cores were decommissioned and banished to the void when their partners were detected to be violating that particular rule across the ages, and this core had relished the removal of each one.
Those who could not abide by the rules deserved their fates.
But then this core met Carl.
He positively reeked of the sexual content that the dungeon core rules explicitly forbade. He'd claimed otherwise, but this core had contacted another core—one which resided under a marketplace in a human territory known as the Charus Kingdom—and it was said that this man had most certainly been in a place where there had been considerable sexual activity.
The core had immediately declared its verdict, but it had forgotten a small matter.
Carl was not yet the partner of a dungeon core!
He could not be banned!
The core had grown flustered at the realization of its mistake, but then it had grown even more flustered when it had finally been chosen. It had prepared for this moment for its entire existence, but now that the time had arrived, it was floundering about like one of those lesser cores.
But then Carl had employed various tactics, and the core had managed to calm down and regain its composure.
This core wasn't some lesser core.
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It would be treated with respect.
And, strangely enough, Carl did treat it with respect. He seemed to acknowledge and understand the need for rules, and, while he made requests for things that were in gray areas as far as the rules were concerned, he didn't seem set on breaking any rules.
The core had become cautiously optimistic that perhaps it would not itself be banned.
But then they'd begun to construct the dungeon, and Carl had begun to make truly odd requests.
None of them were strictly against the rules, one of which stipulated that each floor or room must be successfully completed by the core's partner in order to prevent unfair dungeon creation, but…
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Kazuto was getting really fucking tired of this Carl asshole. How the fuck did he even get this far away? They said he was just driving Ise-chan's little car.
Abruptly the markers on his tracking device shifted, directing him to turn around and go back the way he came.
Kazuto raised the device into the air, preparing to hurl it against the ground in frustration, but he stopped himself at the last second. No, can't let him get away with Ise-chan. Or Neko-chan. I'll kill this guy and then celebrate with a threesome.
He nodded to himself, secure in the knowledge that Ise-chan would definitely be very grateful to him for rescuing her, as would everyone back at the castle. In fact…
He began to run in the direction that his tracking device indicated. Maybe now the queen will finally give me that oyakodon I've been asking her for as a reward. Banging a MILF queen and a hot princess at the same time would be so awesome. And I'm a hero, aren't I? Heroes totally get that kind of treatment.
Kazuto hadn't always been a hero, nor had he gotten that kind of treatment. Before he'd been summoned, he'd been a regular guy. He did fairly well in school, had a good number of friends, and he'd even had a couple of girlfriends—though neither had lasted more than a couple months, nor had either one been particularly interested in anything more than a little kissing when he'd hinted and then outright asked about going further. He was a sweet guy, they'd both said, but they didn't think they were quite ready for that. He'd accepted it because he'd been a regular guy at the time.
He hadn't made the same mistake after he'd been isekai'd. Within the first hour he'd lost his virginity, and from there he'd decided to be a new person—a new man—and be the kind of guy who girls would be ready for that with. A hero. He'd even chosen the name of the first real isekai hero as his namesake to commit to his new mindset.
It seemed to have worked, given the harem he'd been accumulating, he mused. But then his thoughts returned to the missing members of his harem, and he started to get pissed off again.
Don't worry, Ise-chan and Neko-chan, I'll definitely save you!
Kazuto ran for what felt like forever, though he couldn't check how long it had been since he didn't wear a watch, buoyed by thoughts of the large, pillowy, perky tits that no doubt were eagerly awaiting him once he finally caught up.
His tracking device suddenly reversed course again, and he skidded to a halt, creating a sizable wave of dirt as he dug his heels in.
What the fuck's going on? Kazuto looked around, but there was nothing. He was in the middle of fucking nowhere.
A shock wyvern dropped out of the sky, zapping him with its lightning horn as it screeched during its descent.
Kazuto didn't have his weapon or his shield, so he couldn't use any of his attack skills, but that wasn't a problem. Nor was it an issue that he'd never wasted his time sparring or learning the martial way, as the soldiers in the castle had put it when they offered to teach him after his arrival. His stats were too overpowered for any of that to be useful anyway, so he'd done his own training to get used to his superhuman speed and strength.
He'd also spent considerable time training to get used to his new stamina and endurance, using most of that time molding Ise-chan into his perfect girl. She still couldn't deepthroat him without choking, but her pussy was so tight that he barely even cared anymore. He'd keep training her; he knew she appreciated how well he was able to hold back his strength, even if he'd had a couple accidental slip-ups now and then. The way she twitched and trembled while her eyes rolled back in orgasm was so hot.
Kazuto casually punched up towards the wyvern with his right hand, and the enchanted armor that Lucia had gifted him reflected the lightning bolt back towards the monster with increased strength, frying it to a crisp.
A familiar notification popped up in front of him.
"Awesome, I leveled!" he cheered, momentarily forgetting his earlier annoyances. It had been a while since he'd left the castle, and he'd been proud of the self-control he'd used to stop himself from running out and killing some random monster to get the last little bit of XP he'd needed for his next level.
Name: Normannus Title: Hero Level: 128 Next Level XP: 701,212,111 Health: 1,773,920 (+4900) Strength: 200,432 (+20) Agility: 300,584 (+30) Stamina: 230,662 (+20) Intelligence: 256 (+2) Wisdom: 202 (+1) Luck: 177 (+0) Unused Points: 116
Better dump the new points into stamina too. Kazuto did so, then dismissed the window. He glared at the tracking device. This fucking thing better be accurate. He started running in the direction indicated, but he'd barely taken two long, bounding steps when it again reversed direction.
"What the fuck!" he shouted, again coming to a stop. He turned around and stomped back the other way, but the device again flipped its course.
Kazuto couldn't take it anymore. He crumpled the metal into a ball and hurled it at the ground as hard as he could, creating in the dry dirt a deep hole that was clearly visible in the bright white glow of his armor. "Fuck this. Lucia! Where the fuck are you?" he called.
He waited for some time, but there was no reply.