Chapter 57: Trapped

Thursday, April 6th, 11:44 AM

Dungeon Ciara

Rachel awoke naked, by herself, in a dark, unfamiliar room. Nearby, she spotted the T-shirt she’d used as a dress while making her rounds.

The world felt strange, as if it were in motion.

She sat up, looked down, and goggled at her breasts in the dim light that filtered in through a circular window.

Rachel smiled wide as she massaged them and found they’d retained their sensitivity.

They’re huge! Goodbye, A-cups!

She tweaked her nipples to check them as well.

Mm. Still got it.

She furrowed her brow, wondering where she could be.

Oh, that’s right. Five guys this morning. This room… must be on a boat in the harbor?

Thinking back to her morning activities, Rachel smirked.

They all finished inside…

Rachel stared at her chest again.

Wait. My tits aren’t any bigger than they were after I did Professor Miller. I let three more guys shoot inside me, so why isn’t—

Rachel shifted position on the bed. Something rubbed differently from how she was used to, and she sucked in a breath.

What the hell?

She touched her sex and found the issue.

Rachel stared.

Why is it like that?

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Colonel Hart listened intently while Mike talked inside the fuselage of one of the Chinook helicopters.

Hart bared his teeth, then asked, “So, this drake-creature, Sven—can we trust it?”

Mike replied, “Unknown, sir. But if he’s right, and we don’t act—”

“That’s above our paygrade. I just need to know what to report. Do you have reason to believe this Sven’s words?” Hart asked.

“Aye, sir,” Mike and Joe responded.

“Sonofabitch. I hope to God you’re all wrong,” Hart’s mouth tightened.

“I hope so as well, sir,” said Mike.

Joe nodded gravely.

But I don’t think we are wrong. Joe tightened his lips, stifling a grimace.

“The two squads will remain here to secure the area. That was already ordered from above once this site was spotted. Because there are more than a thousand civilians present, I am placing you in charge, Elliott. It’ll be both our asses if shit goes sideways.”

“Aye, sir.”

“This site may be the most important discovery since the advent of pussy, gentlemen. All options are on the table to prevent it falling into enemy hands.”

“Aye, sir. Permission to speak freely?” asked Mike.

“Granted.”

“Ciara—the Dungeon—is more capable of defending this location than we are. Her immortal creatures will assist in the event of an attack, likely preventing the loss of personnel or civilian lives. Furthermore, this place may allow marines to become strong like us if they train inside. Requesting permission to send the squads inside to train, sir.”

“So long as you do whatever is necessary to keep the people safe and this location secure, you may do as you please. I have faith in your judgment.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Sorry again about your retirement, but it’s damn good to have you back. Dismissed.”

Joe and Mike saluted, then exited the helicopter and rushed to the Crow’s Nest to meet the squads who’d been ordered to remain.

“Okay, marines,” Mike addressed the fifteen men and three women who stood at attention in front of them. “The first order of business is getting your asses acclimated to our situation. At-ease. Follow Gunny Schimpf to the castle. The Dungeon’s putting you all up in style.”

They entered to find enough beds in the castle’s four unclaimed rooms to sleep everyone present, with the women housed in their own room.

When their load-bearing equipment had been stored, Mike issued each of them a Dungeon-appropriate weapon based on their preference. After word got around about Mike’s show with his bow, every single one of them opted for a bow of their own. Since they’d also need melee weapons, he provided a short sword or dagger to each as well.

Following that, Joe took the marines on a tour of the Dungeon’s first and second floors, allowing them to hunt minions as a team. Of course, they performed much better than the civilian parties had, since all of them had trained and fought together.

Even against the tiger-sized cats they encountered at the bottom of the redwood forest, the marines remained cool under pressure and slew the deadly felines with volleys of arrows. Half their projectiles missed, but there were enough that in both cases where a big cat had attacked, one or both of its eyes were pierced, and that was that.

Enough minor essences were gathered to imbue each of their weapons with four essences remaining, though none of the marines had gained a class.

At Ciara’s request, her basement was kept secret, and they exited the long way, via the entire first floor.

On the way out, they passed a group of twelve who’d just slain two brown rabbits and one that was white.

Corporal Larson asked, “Gunny Schimpf, how can we shoot arrows like Master Guns?”

Joe replied, “I told you before, it’s about need and passion. You have to want something bad enough that you can taste it, or require it just as much. That’s the best info we have, regarding earning a class. Once you do, you’ll be a hell of a lot stronger than you are now.”

“Strong enough that Siobhán won’t level his ass with a single strike?” asked one of the women, patting Larson’s shoulder.

Joe chuckled. “No. She’ll still kick the shit out of all of you. See, there’s these Ranks…”

The marines were stony-faced after being told about the huge difference in power between Ranks.

“Show us how fast you can run, Gunny Schimpf?” another woman asked.

Joe shook his head. “Soon enough. You’re gonna train and run this Dungeon until every last one of you earns some kind of blessing or class.”

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Of course, while the marines did their thing, I was also busy. A mix of five magical and nonmagical traps lined each roughly straight, 125-meter leg of an S-shaped hallway between the third-floor Schwarz bear caverns and my core room.

In a new, isolated test cavern deep below my basement, I learned it was possible to infuse mana into ice, creating rimestone. Not only did that stop the ice from melting, but it hardened while its temperature dropped significantly.

The first hallway housed massive rimestone spikes in the ceiling that would drop if any of several pressure-plates were triggered.

Second, a column of water was held back by a stone gate that I could manually trigger to wash invaders back to the first hallway, where the water would quickly freeze in contact with the deep chill of the ice spikes.

Infused copper became arcstone, which held a significant electrical charge. I embedded the third hallway with six large strips of arcstone along one side and corresponding strips of normal copper inside the other.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

The trap was a series of electrodes mounted on a spike-trap-like system connected to the arcstone side. They could move in as far as I wanted or remain hidden to keep the passage safe.

Anything or anyone conductive that shortened the gap with the electrodes deployed would receive an impressive jolt of electricity. Arcstone took a few minutes to recharge, but I liked it so far.

Hearthstones were embedded in a shallow trench on either side of the fourth tunnel’s walkway, though I hid them in large pieces of tungsten to conceal their glow. A tall chimney that reached the surface provided enough ventilation to prevent the hallway getting too hot. The actual trap, in this case, was a large damper I could close to insulate the hallway and render the heat unbearable.

The final trapped hallway wasn’t technically trapped. At least, not inside its length. Pointing into it, I had fashioned something more sinister than Mike’s bow, using silk from my Mental-augmented Canopy Crawlers. It turned out that Dire Widows received stronger venom, while Canopy Crawlers made enchanted silk.

Making use of elastic silk usually reserved for the radial trap on their orb webs, I fashioned a massive, hidden, steel-tracked slingshot that fired a sizable tungsten bolas down the length of the hallway at tremendous speed, with a thin but strong cord of spidersilk connecting its weighty balls.

A pressure chamber drove a catch that could draw the sling back in one minute, and I had a magazine of three separate projectiles that could be launched if given time to prepare between shots.

Since I didn’t know how to automate the magazine, I’d need a minion handy to push each bolas into position before firing, but I liked that my Canopy Crawlers were up to that task.

A series of four unlit, 200-meter-long passages branched away from the end of that hallway. Each had holes in its ceiling and walls where my spiders or other small minions could reach out and touch anyone foolish enough to come after my core. Three of those connected with one another at 120-degree angles so it was difficult to tell which way was which. The fourth led to my core room.

Right. That’s better.

I had taken a few days to plan my traps, including some discussion with Sven before he stopped showing himself.

While pondering my third boss so I could start on my fourth floor, I looked upward.

The Adventurer’s Guild gathered martial artists, a bunch of excited gamers, and business people together. They’d drafted a rough outline for how to handle things in a way that made sense while money was essentially nonexistent.

For the first time since they’d arrived, humans other than my residents were training on the beach as hundreds lined up to learn martial combat skills from those who knew how to teach.

Frequent mutterings about riches and magical abilities were uttered and passed around as they practiced basic stances.

The allure of power and wealth. Humans fall for it almost every time.

At least they’re doing something aside from mating, grieving, and eating.

Construction proceeded on the frame of a sixth Elven-style house under Bruce’s direction, while some who’d worked as roofers followed up with new and unfamiliar materials.

Two other dwellings took shape in disparate styles as well, as several more humans had gained classes that made things go more smoothly.

These included two more Blacksmiths, a Tanner, a Painter whose concoctions strengthened and could even apply shifting camouflage to structures, and two more Carpenters—one of Dwarven variety, who had magic to shape stone, and another whose Fuutsuban style appeared similar to traditional Japanese architecture.

While the marine squads did laps on the beach before heading back into the Dungeon, Siobhán passed them from behind to run beside Joe. She pressed her lips and her eyes flicked frequently in his direction.

“Sorry if I’m interrupting. I just—I know you’re training them, but I—”

“It’s fine,” said Joe. His tone was strictly business, but there was warmth in his eyes.

Siobhán wore a bashful smile as her cheeks flushed. She waved a hand to shoo flies away from her face.

A slight grin crossed Joe’s lips, and they continued.

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“No way!” Michael held his hand out, but the tiny mantis nymph Rihelah found leaped and plummeted to the pavement.

“Whoa, little one,” He ducked to put a hand in front of the tiny insect, shooing it toward his other hand, then stood after it climbed on.

“What species is it? Can you tell if it’s male or female?” Rihelah asked, leaning near Michael’s hand to stare intently at the tiny mantis as it stopped to clean its tiny forelegs like a miniature kitten.

“I don’t think I can—wait. Wow. I didn’t know my eyes were this good. It’s a girl—she’s got five segments beneath her abdomen. The only species I’ve seen in this area is religiosa, so that’s probably what she is. But she shouldn’t have hatched so early in the year—especially after that big winter storm we had.”

“Huh. That’s weird. Professor, are you listening?” asked Rihelah, grinning at Michael.

[I’m here, Ryebean.]

“Do you have any mantids, yet?” Rihelah pressed her lips. Her dark brown eyes locked with Michael’s.

Michael’s lips twisted in a half-smile as he chuckled, then he ducked to kiss her. The tiny female mantis jumped away and they lost track of it.

[Actually, yes. I have two mantis species already—californica and religiosa. I hadn’t thought to check for those since they’re small and uncommon in this area.]

Rihelah smiled. “I know this is kind of a weird request, but… could you make the biggest female mantis possible for Michael?”

Michael furrowed his brow and shook his head in silence but Rihelah just smiled and squeezed his arm.

[He’s not going to mate with it, is he? I can’t make a mantis large enough to handle his—]

“What? Not for that!” Rihelah snorted.

Michael squeezed his eyes shut and snickered.

Rihelah said, “It’s because he’s always liked them.”

[Hm. I could, but aside from the obvious aesthetic value, what would be the point?]

“I don’t know if I told you this, Professor. Michael’s been a total mantis-brain since we were kids. He’s kept dozens of mantids as pets and he’s the reason I’m not afraid of them. Maybe it’d help Michael to unlock a class like Sio’s?”

[Hm. I suppose I could make something like that, though I’ll need to make sure it can help to defend the Dungeon.]

“What do you mean?” Rihelah cocked her head.

[In this case, I’ll be adding scorpion venom sacs in each foreleg, with a modified telson—that’s the stinger—replacing the sharp tip of each raptorial limb. They’ll also receive a Stealth augmentation so they’ll have an easy time with ambushes.]

“Uh, that sounds dangerous.” Rihelah frowned.

[That’s the idea, Ryebean. Dungeons are supposed to be difficult. That’s how we’ll train people to prepare for what’s coming. I’ll make two, so you can each have one.]

Rihelah hugged Michael’s arm, causing the baby mantis to jump away again. “Um… I don’t know if—ah! Already?”

Two seven-inch mantids with dark-green bodies landed in front of them.

Michael kneeled and held his hand out while Rihelah backed away.

[Yep. I spawned them in a small exit nearby. Yes, they are venomous, but you’re residents, so they won’t harm you.]

“Did they have to have venom?” Rihelah furrowed her brow as she watched one climb onto Michael’s outstretched hand.

[How else will they help when it’s time for us to go to war against the other Dragon’s forces or whatever? I already have those crickets and rabbits that can barely do anything.]

“Ugh. That’s a good point. I just…” Rihelah watched wide-eyed as Michael brought the first mantis up and let it perch on his shoulder.

“They’re gorgeous—and beefy.”

“Figures, Mantis Brain. You always loved the beefy ones.”

“Not true. I’m marrying a petite woman,” Michael winked.

Rihelah rolled her eyes with a smile and leaned closer but stopped short of hugging Michael when her eyes fell on the venomous mantis again.

[Michael, would you like one for each shoulder until Rihelah realizes it’s safe?]

“Heck yeah!” Michael blurted out.

He reached toward the second mantis and it leaped onto his arm, then raced up to stand opposite the first.

“They’re beautiful. Shadehunter mantis, eh?” asked Michael.

[Yep.]

Michael rubbed his chin. “I like how it sounds. But why Shadehunter?”

[Watch this.]

“No way.” Michael’s forehead wrinkled when the mantids’ bodies became semi-transparent. “Active camouflage…”

[What the hell?] Ciara sounded furious.

“What happened, Professor?” asked Rihelah.

[Rachel!]

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Floors: 3

Minions: 316/360

Residents: 12/16

Denizens: 365072

Traps: 11/15