The gate behind me opened, and I knew it to be an exit back to the surface. It closed again after I just stood there in silence, unwilling to take the opportunity to retreat.
Another few minutes and the gate opposite me opened again. Out streamed a party of five. Two mages, one ranger, and two warriors.
My instincts told me that they were around hero-rank in strength. I immediately went for the kill, and the ranger did have the speed to dodge, but everyone else was caught within my thorny roots. The two warriors resisted for only a few moments, but it didn’t take long for them to succumb. Even metal was nothing to a rozenmaidenless.
One mage tried to use fire on her bindings, and she burned alive because setting oneself on fire was generally a bad idea. The other tried freezing the roots, which I was able to power through easily, but I also didn’t think it would have helped. He only trapped himself further.
The remaining ranger never got the chance to even draw her bow, as while that one dodge was impressive, I had far more roots to give.
~~~
The next two battles were similarly uneventful, against the equivalent of heroes and slayers. Although to be fair, I was aware that the way this floor was organized completely played into my strengths. I was nigh unstoppable if given the opportunity to prepare like this.
Regardless, I was only one battle left toward moving on from this floor. The gates behind me closed, the ones in front opened, and I felt the power of the five new people that stepped out. All of them radiated the power of a savior-rank adventurer.
Seriously, does the dungeon have something against me or something? Parties like that are very rare!
There was a warrior with a katana, one that was a rogue, another a ranger, a tank… with two shields, and then a mage. A well-balanced team, all things considered.
I immediately went on the offensive, for the whole stage was within my range, my feet had remained rooted to the ground all this time. Their tank was caught in my offensive, but he managed to resist. The rest of my enemies managed to dodge, while the mage burned the area around her while she herself remained unharmed.
Seriously. Fire again. Does the dungeon want to kill me!? I asked, of the murderhole in the ground.
The rogue was the fastest, and she dodged all my roots, making a beeline toward me. Big mistake. Her possibilities narrowed, and she was caught by a wide bombardment of roots that suddenly rose up all around myself. One latched onto her ankle, and she quickly sliced it off, but another wrapped around her arm. Two more came before she could cut that off, and then three, then four. Until she was buried under the sheer mass of my power, ripped and sliced apart.
The warrior with the katana was close behind her, and he sliced my roots that were in front. He was agile enough to dodge when I tried to catch him by the legs, so we reached a slight impasse.
Their ranger was eager to bury me in arrows, and I barely managed to keep them away thanks to a wall of my roots. The tank was taking a lot of my focus to hold back, and the mage sent a big fireball my way. That caused my roots to back down, and an arrow was able to get through, striking me near the shoulder.
I hissed, the danger became more real. I pulled on my armor of vines which never managed to block the shot, weak as it was. But what it gave me was healing.
Vines sprouted out from within the wound and expelled the foreign object from myself. I was able to use my healing magic from the inside, repairing all the damage within seconds. That was the effect of my last major piece of gear.
I have to focus fire one of them. I returned my focus back onto the battle at hand, and chose the swordsman. I needed my roots for my defense too, and this way they could serve double duty.
The striking roots slumped around everyone else, and the tank pushed them away to protect her teammates. It was too little too late as the swordsman was swallowed by the tide, his hands bound and broken, unable to resist.
The ranger tried to circle around toward my back when the roots I had there also became inert, but I had already summoned at least a few from my cloak to protect both the head and the heart. The two arrows that managed to piece my back were inconsequential. I pulled them out, and swiftly closed the wounds. Another burst of fire attacked me from the front, but there was no one to follow up from the opening it created. The tank could resist my roots for some time, but she didn’t have any powers to actually threaten me.
I left just a few roots to slow her down while I focused on another opponent. This time it was the mage, who wasn’t actually able to move all that fast. She burned the roots around her and tried to run away, but I just buried her in more until she could no longer keep up. Charred and flaking roots grabbed hold of her, it yanked her hands and staff around screwing with her aim. She had no way left defend as I ripped her apart with my roots, even as they burned to ash in the process.
During this time the tank had pushed away the remaining roots I had on defense and made her way toward me. The ranger landed a couple more shots on me, but none of them were lethal, each one easily healed. The tank found herself helpless to do anything against an opponent like myself that attacked from below, as she could hardly block my roots for her teammates. I swallowed her up next, and she died a gruesome death. It was almost fortunate that they were ghouls, as they didn’t howl in pain, dying with a blank and neutral face to the bitter end.
Left alone against me, I buried the ranger under another tide of roots, and the battle was finally done. Two gates opened, one I knew leading to floor 5, but I just slumped at the ground, spent and done.
I decided to rest, because I was tired.
~~~
The world twisted again as I landed with a tense and ready stance. I did have knowledge of the fifth floor because of the intensive questioning done by Flowar to Meria a long time ago. Not that we were ever close to reaching that place.
Thankfully, the boss described in those stories was nowhere to be found. There were two additional floors, and I gravely hoped that none would come after what was once the fifth floor. I already wasn’t confident in beating that monstrosity, and I was just straight up dead if there was a next floor with an even worse challenge.
Or maybe that floor was scrapped in its entirety, and I don’t have to fight the abomination once described by Meria…?
I scoffed. I didn’t even try to entertain the possibility. It would only be gone if the dungeon had indeed come up with something worse.
Instead of all that, I focused on the now, the present. I was in front of a towering palace that put all others to shame. The time was of an eternal night, with a moon shining bright.
I straightened up and walked toward the entrance. There were two guards posted there that looked almost like humans, but I was not fooled in the slightest. The way they spoke revealed what they truly were.
““Greetings, esteemed guest. Welcome to The Palace. Please come over here and allow us to begin the extraction of your blood.””
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Their words were said in perfect unison and with utmost politeness, but it wasn’t at all convincing… for obvious reasons. Their actual intent was said in a very direct manner.
That was how the undead known as the vampires and the vampyrs were. The gestalt legend of vampirism was strong and pervasive, and it was a template copied over to any vampyr or vampire made. They spoke as one for they were all the same, and I was here to kill them.
The vampyrs took my silence as rudeness, and they spoke again for the final time.
““It is a shame that our guest is incapable of speech and civility. I see that we will have to take our rightful offerings for ourselves. So please, remain calm, there is no need to resist.”
Their bodies exploded with power, but I immediately wrapped them up with roots. Around as strong as a hero-rank adventurer, I could restrain them forever like this, but the process of actually crushing them was going a bit too slow. They had some very strong regenerative powers, and their vitality was high. It was strange why they were even classified as undead, but that was due to the process of how they were made. It required a dead body to raise, and some of the knowledge and meaning of their existence was preserved. Except that process was perverted, and they retained neither habits nor powers from their lives. They were all remade into the gestalt legend of vampirism.
It was actually very impressive, as they were actually brought back to life unlike a common undead. But the result could hardly be called the same at what once were, they only shared the same face.
I planted my feet into the ground and my shoed rooted within. That gave a massive boost to my powers, and the two vampyrs were crushed. I did not stop there, my range extended toward the inside of the building and I used it. Many more were entrapped, the life squeezed out them. Some wisened up, they tried to dodge, but the tide of roots were too many for them to fight off for long. Only one in particular managed to escape my grasp and made her way toward my position, which was certainly admirable.
I withdrew from all the vampyrs who were already dead and dying. All of my attention was then lavished upon this one singular vampire that approached. Buried under the weight of all my roots, she was crushed, and she died.
But that was still only one portion of this one dungeon floor.
I pondered my options, looking at how high the palace went. Making my roots grow on the upper floors of it was a bit complicated…
I decided to cheat.
~~~
The grass here was about as good as the second floor’s, but I wanted it to be the best I could get so I went ahead and used a patch of my robe. Once I had a spot of pure and lush grass, I plamted a seed of wurldboros. A wurldboros tree was a hilariously invasive plant whose roots could stretch for entire forests if left unchecked, thereby robbing every other plant of nutrients and turning the place barren. They were a species that was long eradicated… except of course there were seeds of it hidden away by kingdoms in vaults. It could be a force of war by itself.
So naturally, I made some deals and did some jobs, earning myself one single seed. I then planted and cultivated the tree until I had a good stockpile. Afterwards I killed the parent plant, and I was pretty sure it didn’t survive. Who ever knew for certain though, I farmed it in some very remote areas to avoid scrutiny.
I watched on as another wurldboros tree sprouted all the way into maturity. It shouldn’t be a problem here, inside of a dungeon.
Roots sank into the ground from my boots as I prepared myself for another slaughter. I laid my hand on the tree’s trunk, channeling my powers through its powerful roots, and allowing them to extend into the upper floors.
The roots snaked their way through the palace, the ground shook and the vampyrs panicked, but few even new where to aim their ire. Most never got the chance to even think as thick roots wrapped around them in a hug that proved to be their last.
The entire palace was invaded, the rare vampires were vanquished with prejudice whenever and wherever I found them. The entire palace transformed from a luxurious and exquisite behemoth, to a relic of the past, now overgrown with nature, and stained ominously with the blood of its former occupants.
I reached a particularly large gate, and I had a feeling the portal toward the next floor could be found within. I took care to kill every last one of the enemies first, before I invaded the final chamber in force. My roots brushed against the leg of what I assume was a person on a throne, and then my roots were obliterated.
My eyes widened, and I instantly redoubled my efforts, but this new enemy was moving very fast and I could barely catch them. Even when some roots reached their feet, they were each cut away with a single swing from this monster.
I began to sweat. They were clearly making their way toward me. I tore off more patches of my robes, upon which I planted two additional seeds. The enemy in the meantime was already more than halfway here!
They didn’t take the stairs, instead they just punched holes into the ground, and jumped down from there, repeating the same process over and over. It was a strength that was familiar, a ridiculous tactic that felt nostalgic. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that.
Instead, I hurriedly drew upon the power of the wurldboros again, manipulating the roots already there, and slowing the enemy down while they tried to literally cut their way through the floors. I grabbed at their arms, I tripped them up, I wasn’t even trying for a kill at the moment, but they just kept on coming and the new trees were not yet done growing.
They descended further down, reached the ground floor, and immediately made a beeline toward me. I found out why this enemy felt familiar, and it was because I knew her, even if we weren’t particularly close. She was Afla, the Imperial Knight Captain, from an empire an entire continent away. I had no idea she had made her way here, nor that she lost her life. The Eternal Dungeon really had attracted all sorts of people, with its promise of eternal life.
Not that I was someone who should be tossing stones about that from my own house of glass.
There was only one thing important in this situation, and it was that Afla was bloody fucking strong. She wasn’t an adventurer, but she would surely have been an immortal rank like me, and now here she was, an undead trying to kill me.
I only allowed myself to panic for the briefest of instants, before bracing myself against this known foe. A vampire might veer toward the side and be more unpredictable, but I could tell from her stance that Afla had at least kept her abilities and fighting habits. She would surely come from the front so I flooded that area with my roots.
One stroke of her sword and it went through the roots like a knife through butter. More roots followed, and these ones aimed for her limbs, to not allow her a good angle to strike them down. She crushed or evaded most regardless, but a few managed to ensnare her for a few brief moments, earning me more precious seconds that I sorely needed.
Yet still, in the end, she reached me. The wall of roots I’d made in front of myself fell apart and her sword was just about to impale myself.
I activated the true effect of my antlers. They grew into a canopy of their own, growing not normal leaves but cherry blossoms. They fell off and regrew into a whole storm, and when Afla thrust her sword forward, she found no purchase. She was too far and facing entirely the wrong way.
She seemed to think for a few seconds, before turning towards me and smiling.
Afla was a harsh woman. She was disciplined. I’d never seen her smile.
“Dinner that fights back. How delicious.”
Her own skills might have been preserved somehow, but her personality was now that of a vampire.
Oh well. She’s dead regardless. And I’ve finished my preparations anyway.
Maybe if she didn’t stand around to talk, I would’ve had to make some harder sacrifices.
I took my hand off of the wurldboros, and placed a palm each on the rozenmaidenless and the indomitree. The latter was a tree that grew in the everquakes, a continent where the crust of the realm was just constantly in flux and crushing everything. The indomitree was a tree that could withstand the crushing pressure of growing in that environment.
I took a deep breath and drew on the powers of both these trees. Roots both tough and damaging emerged from the ground, each draining my energy to maintain, but I bore through it. Afla charged forward just like before, but while she still overpowered my roots, it was not as handily as what happened prior. Her sword severed a few, but it was stopped at some point. Her weapon was wrapped up, she tugged on it hard and managed to free it but not before she was ensnared from her feet, the barbs already working through her armor and toward the softer flesh within. Afla cut them away, but more came and she could not keep up.
“This is disrespect of the highest order. I demand that you free me right this instant!”
That was not how the real Afla would have acted, but it occured to me that I didn’t actually know how the woman would have acted if cornered. I’d never seen it happen before, after all. It was worrying that the dungeon was even able to bring someone like her down.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to deny that request my lady,” I played along with the farce, “but I will thank you for your contributions to my hobby of gardening.”
The roots wrapped her up like a cocoon, and while it took minutes of her shouting highborn obscenities at me while I had to constantly replenish my roots, the boss of this floor finally fucking died.