Chapter 17: Anger

The dungeon that had dominated the edge of Marshalldale's territory for decades was known simply as the Verdant Depths. Unlike many of the other dungeons in the region, the Verdant Depths was ancient, its roots digging deep into the land, spreading in slow, methodical tendrils through the earth. It wasn’t flashy or fast, but that’s what had made it so effective. The dungeon’s slow and steady expansion had allowed it to cultivate its traps, grow its creatures, and embed itself into the very fabric of the territory it called its own.

The Verdant Depths thrived on patience. Its core pulsed with a deep green light, like the heart of an old tree, each beat sending ripples through the labyrinthine tunnels it had carved over decades. Its minions were creatures of the forest and stone—earth elementals, rootbound guardians, and treants that moved like shadows among the vines. The dungeon had long since learned that to rush was to invite mistakes, and so it bided its time, slowly expanding its reach into the outer lands of Marshalldale.

For years, its only competition had been the occasional upstart dungeon that foolishly tried to establish itself in its territory. Those weaker cores were easily absorbed or forced into retreat. The Verdant Depths had grown comfortable with its dominance, confident that no rival could ever truly threaten its carefully built empire of twisting passages and deadly traps. But that was before Brent appeared.

At first, Brent's presence was hardly a blip on the Verdant Depths’ radar. A tiny, newly-formed core was nothing to be concerned about. Such dungeons came and went, often collapsing under the weight of their own ambition or being snuffed out by adventurers before they ever had the chance to grow. The Verdant Depths had watched many would-be rivals crumble, their energy consumed and repurposed to fuel its own growth. It barely gave Brent a passing thought.

But then something changed.

Brent expanded. Fast.

The Verdant Depths felt a tremor in the System’s network—a signal that one of its peripheral sensors had been overtaken. Then another. And another. The rate of Brent’s expansion was unlike anything the Verdant Depths had ever encountered in its long existence. This newcomer wasn’t merely growing—it was devouring the land around it, greedily consuming territory that the Verdant Depths had planned to slowly envelop into its own domain.

"Impossible," the Verdant Depths muttered to itself, its core pulsing with irritation. "How can a newborn expand so quickly? It defies logic. It defies the rules."

As days turned into weeks, the Verdant Depths watched in growing disbelief as Brent's dungeon expanded to become the new edge of Marshalldale's dungeon territory. The land that the Verdant Depths had so meticulously planned to incorporate into its own became blocked off, claimed by Brent’s domain. For the first time in decades, the Verdant Depths was forced to halt its expansion, confined by an invisible wall that now stood between it and the resources it coveted.

The core of the Verdant Depths thrummed with unease. It could feel the System’s cold touch as it reinforced the boundaries of their respective territories. There would be no more easy expansion to the east, no more unclaimed space to devour. The System itself had drawn a line in the sand, and Brent stood at the center of it.

"This is unacceptable," the Verdant Depths growled. It had never encountered a rival that was capable of forcing it into a corner like this. The realization sent a pulse of bitterness through its core—a feeling it hadn’t experienced in so long that it almost didn’t recognize it. Frustration.

For a time, it tried to dismiss Brent’s presence as a temporary inconvenience. Surely, the newcomer would falter. Its rapid growth would attract powerful adventurers who would storm through its halls and crush it before it could solidify its hold. The Verdant Depths had seen it happen a hundred times before. The upstarts always burned bright and fast, and then they burned out just as quickly.

But Brent didn’t falter.

The expansion continued, relentless, systematic. Brent's dungeon seemed to thrive on chaos, evolving and adapting at a rate that defied all expectation. The Verdant Depths felt something inside itself twist—a knot of unfamiliar emotions that tightened with each inch of territory that slipped from its grasp. It wasn’t just frustration anymore. It was envy.

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"How does he do it?" the Verdant Depths murmured, its voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "What trick has this upstart found that I haven't? What secret gives him such speed and strength?"

The dungeon’s core flared with a surge of emerald light, pulsing faster and hotter than before. Its anger simmered just below the surface, a slow boil that threatened to explode if it couldn't find a way to curb Brent's growth. It couldn't stand the thought of another dungeon eclipsing its centuries of work. All the cunning traps, all the carefully bred minions, the years of planning and execution—overshadowed by a mere fledgling core that didn’t even respect the traditional ways.

And then there was the insult of the System itself. The Verdant Depths had been an obedient servant to the rules set by the System, expanding at a measured pace, earning its rewards through slow, deliberate progress. But Brent seemed to bend those rules, growing at a rate that suggested some kind of loophole or hidden blessing. How was that fair? How was it just?

"The System has betrayed me," the Verdant Depths hissed, its voice echoing through the labyrinth of its tunnels. "After all these years of loyal service, it allows this upstart to grow unchecked, unchallenged! I will not be usurped by a nameless child!"

A crack appeared in the stone surrounding its core, a physical manifestation of the growing rage that churned within. Tendrils of green energy snaked out, wrapping around the surrounding stones like strangling vines. The once-patient and methodical dungeon now felt the pull of something darker, something it had not embraced in years: vengeance.

The Verdant Depths fell silent for a long moment, the anger boiling into a cold, calculated fury. It would not allow its legacy to be trampled by Brent. It would not stand idle while its destiny was stolen by some arrogant upstart who had no respect for the time-honored traditions of dungeon-building. No, it would reclaim its territory. It would crush Brent’s fledgling dungeon and absorb every last fragment of its power.

It wasn’t just a matter of reclaiming the land anymore. It was personal.

"Brent," the Verdant Depths said slowly, as if savoring the name. "You will pay for what you’ve taken from me. I will show you what it means to challenge a dungeon that has survived centuries of war and strife. I will make you regret the day you dared to step into my territory."

The dungeon's core glowed with a venomous light, its energy crackling through the network of tunnels like a storm on the verge of breaking. It reached out with its senses, probing the outer edges of Brent’s domain, testing for weaknesses, looking for any sign of vulnerability. It wouldn’t strike yet—not until it was sure of its victory. It would bide its time, as it always had, waiting for the perfect moment to unleash its wrath.

Plans began to form, dark and twisted, growing like poisonous vines in the shadows of the Verdant Depths. It would use every trick it had learned over its long existence, every cunning tactic and cruel stratagem to undermine Brent’s progress. If the System would not enforce its rules, then the Verdant Depths would take matters into its own hands. It would use the System itself against Brent if it had to.

"This isn’t over," it said, its voice a low growl that echoed through the darkness. "I have not come this far to be dethroned by a child. You may have blocked my expansion, Brent, but you have not seen what a true dungeon is capable of. I will expand again. I will become the greatest dungeon in this land, and I will consume everything you have built."

The Verdant Depths pulsed once, a final, defiant surge of energy that rippled through its domain. It would not rest. It would not falter. It would strike with the patience of a serpent and the force of an avalanche. And when the time was right, Brent would know what it truly meant to face a dungeon that had stood the test of time.

The light around the core of the Verdant Depths dimmed, its power consolidating, gathering strength. It would wait for the perfect moment to make its move. And when it did, Brent would understand that he had made a grave mistake by daring to expand into territory that was never meant to be his.

The dungeon’s final words echoed in the still darkness, a promise of vengeance and an omen of war.

"You will regret ever crossing me, Brent," it said, its voice dripping with malice. "I am the Verdant Depths, and I do not forgive. I do not forget."

And as the dungeon settled back into its silent vigil, there was a cold certainty in the air, a sense that something dark and terrible was about to unfold—a storm gathering on the horizon, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The Verdant Depths was coming for him.