"Four out of ten," I spat, staring at the sigil I drew on the floor. With my arms folded and sitting cross-legged on the ground I was fully aware that I looked like a petulant child, but I didn't care. "Because of whatever bullshit this is."

Moose snorted behind me. He had been silently watching me draw, unlike Cojisto who kept trying to make small talk. The Arcane Wrestler had eventually made his way to Ferrisdae, leaving me with the animal.

I don't know if Moose was trying to say anything in particular, so I decided to explain the magic circle I drew in an attempt to calm my mind. "This sigil is ritual magic that anyone can do, though no one but the Department of Dungeons does so because it destroys what is essentially a gold mine of magic crystals," I explained. “The circle is the best structure for capturing magic, and the lines drawn inside emulate the world’s natural ley lines.”

Inside the circle, surrounded by a multitude of lines, were four symbols. I pointed at them one by one.

"Dungeon, magic, crystal, growth," I said. "I suppose most people wouldn't expect that sequence, either. Dungeon at the upper left and magic at the upper right indicate what the sigil will be siphoning from and what it siphons. Magic is just about the only thing that works in a dungeon, but that depends on a lot of things that aren't pertinent. With me so far?"

Moose stamped his foot. I was pretty sure Cojisto said that meant yes. "Okay. So at the bottom right is growth," I continued, tapping at the sigil. "That's how it knows what to do with the magic. It gathers all the magic that was released from our fight that would normally dissipate back into the dungeon, and instead forces it to grow into the last symbol on the bottom left, a magic crystal."

I swiped at the chalk I had set down in front of me and jabbed at the sigil. "And it's supposed to work," I said, causing many errant marks. "Which means the Dungeon Master is-"

Moose grunted.

I stopped and looked up at him. "Did you just say the last part of his title?" I asked, eyes narrowing.

We locked eyes and it took a moment, but Moose shook his head. I didn't believe him.

"Whatever," I sighed as I stood. "It means he's doing the impossible. Again. I'm going to have a lot of words for him when we finally meet. Or when I see Himia again, which I feel is a lot more likely."

Moose snorted again and followed me when I headed into the tunnel we had come from. Ferrisdae had set up there to identify the magic items. Neither of us had a clue what would happen to them if the ritual had worked, so she had left with them. Maybe that had been a bad idea.

Cojisto ran to Moose as we approached, holding up the crossbow. "Moose! Look at this!" He ran his hand over where the bolt was supposed to lie, his finger glowing with his Fluid Force. The energy didn't dissolve, but stayed where he drew it. The string of the crossbow also pulled back effortlessly. Pulling his finger away, Cojisto raised the weapon to aim at the ceiling and fired.

The glowing projectile only made it roughly 10 feet before disappearing, but Cojisto laughed like it was the greatest thing in the world. "Isn't that just the neatest thing?" he asked Moose, who nodded enthusiastically.

I stopped next to Ferrisdae, who was holding the emerald-tipped staff. "Did Cojisto get an item made specifically for him?" I asked incredulously.

Ferrisdae shrugged. "It looks like it, but it can shoot regular bolts, too," she said. Her voice lacked its usual chipper tone. I wasn't going to push her, though. Not here.

Cojisto and Moose might be fine with the recreational murder that came with being adventurers, not that I would fault them for that, but if Ferrisdae didn't sling a single Shooting Star this subjugation run I would not complain. Though, her overall lack of casting any spells was still worrying.

"What about the staff?" I asked, tapping the wood. It was dark, and had a hollow sound as I flicked it. Very lightweight, I realized. Perfect for a spellcaster.

"Increases the effect of defensive spells cast through it," Ferrisdae said. She kept spinning the staff between her fingers. "Both power and duration."

"Hmm, that would explain why the Shield spell the Avian cast was so resilient," I said. Ferrisdae made a small noise of agreement. Reaching up, I knocked my fist on her elbow. "Between that and the crossbow, it seems-"

I was interrupted by the boundless energy that was Cojisto practically skidding to a stop before me. He stuck his finger in my face. "Corpse, magic, create, item!" He yelled.

I stared at his finger before pushing it away with my shield. "What are you talking about, Cojisto?" I snapped.

"Moose said you were talking about the sigil," he explained, drawing a circle in the air with his finger. "Dungeon, magic, growth, crystal, yeah? What if the Dungeon Master, Master of Dungeons, has some sort of magic attached to his dungeons that acts like a sigil, but it's corpse, magic, create, item?"

I stared at the grinning Cojisto for a few moments before looking at Moose, who stamped his foot. Lowering my head, I thought it over. If it was like that, or something similar, then that would go a long way towards explaining why the dungeon was fractured the way it was and why the bodies were disappearing on their own.

"The idea has merit," Ferrisdae said, suddenly perking up at the chance to latch onto something strange. "And if it only uses the corpses, then the people aren't actually dead. Their soul, for the dungeon's resurrection, might not belong to this particular dungeon since it's gone on its own, but instead to the… what should we call it? The layer of dungeon over everything, I mean. The overdungeon?" She looked down at me for confirmation.

"Sure," I agreed, shrugging. "That's what we'll call it. But I don't like that we aren't actually shutting this dungeon down if that's correct. It means that being here is a waste of time."

"Unless it gets us out of the overdungeon," Ferrisdae pointed out. "We just have to complete the story, right?"

"Not much of a story," I snorted. "Go to mine, make it safe. End of, hopefully."

"Unless it's setting up the other dungeons," Cojisto said. "And they have stories, too."

I felt a headache begin to form at the thought of doing this three more times. Completing dungeons wasn't why we were here, it was just a waste of time. "I sincerely hope you're wrong, Cojisto," I said as I rubbed my temples. He continued grinning.

"How about we keep moving?" Ferrisdae suggested, noticing my growing ire. "The faster we clear this out, then the faster we'll find a path that leads to the exit."

"A fine idea," I said. I retrieved my horseman's pick and started walking towards the room we just cleared out. There was a path leading deeper into the mine, and we were already committed to the left-hand rule.

Cojisto hummed as he fiddled with the crossbow's string behind me, but stopped when I glared back at him.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

We turned into a tunnel just barely wide enough for Moose's antlers to fit through. This one led south, but turned north after a couple of torches. I stopped underneath one of them and looked at Ferrisdae. "Map?"

Ferrisdae unfurled the map from around the staff, having placed it there so that it wouldn't get in her way. When I took the map, it showed our location as the green dots, but the room we just cleared out had a check mark in the center.

"That's new," I said, tapping the check mark.

"I assume it's because we already cleared it out," Ferrisdae suggested. "But that doesn't mean that it'll stay safe.”

“You’re right, we really don’t know what’s going to happen here,” I admitted.

“What an exciting time, am I right?” Cojisto asked.

My attention turned to Moose as I ignored Cojisto. “Are you still fine being in the back?” Moose stamped his foot, and I nodded. “Okay, let’s get moving, then.”

The natural caverns of the mines twisted and turned, leading deeper into the ground. The lit sconces continued to light our way, and as we turned a corner we saw two paths, one to the left and one to the right. The path right would have us going back to one of the other two initial tunnels, and we continued to the left.

After another twenty or so feet we arrived in a large room with several lit torches rising out of the ground. Silver chunks sparkled brilliantly along the walls, and a neatly laid row of pickaxes lined the ground against the far wall. I pursed my lips, but Cojisto didn’t seem to think anything of it.

“Oh! This is where we’re supposed to use the scrapy stone thing, isn’t it?” He asked loudly. “There’s picks, but that magical item would make getting the silver much faster, right?”

“No, this is a trap,” I said evenly. “One that the item, which is called a Stone Scraper, not a scrappy stone thing, would probably have parties jumping on.”

“How do you know it’s a trap?” Cojisto asked, squinting as he looked around. “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.”

Sighing, I waved my hands to the walls, indicating the chunks of silver. “This is a silver mine, so there should be silver, yes,” I started explaining. “But silver isn’t mined in chunks. Silver ore actually contains more copper than it does silver. And, okay, sometimes you might actually find nuggets, but in a quantity like this? Absolutely not.”

“It’s a good thing we have someone who knows what they’re doing,” Cojisto said with a nod. “I would have jumped in there and started digging, honestly. Well, if it didn’t belong to the camp, you know?”

“So what do you think they are?” Ferrisdae asked.

“Earth elementals, probably,” I answered. “They can hide in the walls because it’s made of solid stone, which they can pass through, and they like to collect gems and precious metals to adorn their bodies. So, eight out of ten, but honestly using silver nuggets is pretty lazy. Just let it be how it normally is, this silver wouldn’t belong to adventurers anyway.”

As I said it, the room started changing. I lifted my shield and horseman’s pick as I expected my words to be right and that we would be under attack. The silver chunks did start to move, but not in a way that I expected. They began to spread against the walls as if they were being pulled apart like a piece of bread. I realized that the nuggets were changing into silver veins, which was how they were naturally found. The dungeon was reacting to the words I said.

“You son of a bitch, are you watching this?” Rage filled my voice as I shouted at the ceiling. I threw down my horseman’s pick and unlatched my shield, dropping that too. “Get the fuck down here right now! I don’t care if you’re Himia or the dungeon guy, we’re having words!”

My shouts echoed through the large room and I waited, eyes darting to every shadow as the torchlight flickered. Nothing happened.

I threw my arms out to my side. “We can wait for the bad end, if you want!” I yelled. I didn’t care if the Avians would hear me. Not anymore. “Just head back to camp, eat and drink and wait it out. We are not here to entertain you, or complete your dungeons, we are here to do our job. Right now, you are obstructing that purpose. Get the fuck down here, NOW!”

I felt Ferrisdae put her hand on my shoulder, and I turned to look at her. Concern was written on her face. Before she had a chance to address things, a voice addressed us from the tunnel behind us.

“The Dungeon Master, Master of Dungeons, has heard your plea, Dungeon Inspector Badger,” it said. We turned around to see Himia in front of a free-standing door. It was open, revealing a forested area on the other side. Ferrisdae’s hand on my shoulder gripped tighter.

“Oh, so now we’re graced by his presence?” I spat at the woman. No, at the Information Elemental. This was no person.

“The Dungeon Master, Master of Dungeons, has been very busy lately, but he now has time for you as per your request,” she said in her usual tone. Of course showing visible anger wouldn’t work on her.

I tried moving towards the door, but Ferrisdae’s grip kept me from moving. Tearing my eyes away from Himia, I looked at her. She looked genuinely terrified at the thought of meeting with the one who changed the core of her magic.

“Badger,” Cojisto said with unusual quietude. “Perchance, could Moose and I continue through the dungeon? It is still the Department of Dungeon’s whole affair here, we know, so perhaps Ferrisdae would like to supervise?”

I turned my gaze to Cojisto. He wasn’t looking at me, but at Ferrisdae. His face was laced with concern, too. “Is that okay, Ferrisdae?” I asked, taking her hand from my shoulder and squeezing it. Her knuckles were white. “You don’t have to meet this asshole if you don’t want to.”

When she spoke, it was barely a whisper. “I don’t want to meet him,” she whispered, turning her head so that we couldn’t see her face. “I don’t think I can do it yet.”

“I understand, Ferrisdae,” I told her. “You stay with Cojisto and Moose, and I’ll go see him. I have a lot to say, believe you me. You’ll be in good hands with these two.”

Ferrisdae nodded, and I let her hand go. She clutched onto the staff and held it close as if it were a lifeline, and my heart dropped. I looked at Cojisto and mouthed, “nothing happens to her.” He nodded.

“It’s just me, Himia,” I said out loud, walking towards the door. I didn’t bother grabbing my weapons, my sole focus was getting Himia away from Ferrisdae as fast as possible.

“Of course, inspector, right this way,” she said cheerfully, oblivious to the emotions rising in the room. No wonder she called herself artificial; there was nothing sincere about her.

Without giving her a second glance, I walked through the door. It closed behind me, but I didn’t look to see if it disappeared.

The scene in front of me was transcendent. High from a mountaintop, I looked down at the world that seemed increasingly smaller as it stretched into the horizon. Swathes of green and blue mingled and consorted with one another in a beautiful display of nature. If it had been under any other circumstances, I would have happily taken in the view. Not now, though. Not today.

I looked around the clearing I found myself in to see a man in purple and green with a large, matching hat sitting at a table with two chairs and two teacups on it. The man stood up. I blinked a few times, but his face and hands never focused for me, like he was some kind of illusion. His skin was blurry, but Corez’s description had been spot on.

The man wore a purple coat that reached almost to the ground behind him and had several straps on the arms. It was open, revealing a dark green vest over a black shirt. His pants were black as well, as were the heavy boots he wore. His hat had a wide brim, though I didn't recognize the style, and was made of the same purple leather as his coat with a green band that matched his vest.

He looked fucking gaudy as hell.

“Dungeon Inspector Badger,” he greeted. His voice was full of bravado, but had an almost hidden nervous quality to it. “I have been waiting to meet you ever since you entered Oristrella’s dungeon.”

“You’re the Dungeon Master?” I asked, approaching him.

“Why, yes I am,” he said.

“Master of Dungeons?”

“That is who I am,” he repeated. “The Dungeon Master, Master of Dungeons.”

“So you are the guy?” I asked one more time.

I stopped in front of him and looked up at his face. It was even more unnerving up close, like a mask. Why was he hiding his face? What could he possibly gain from that? He certainly did have the proportions of a Human, though, so Oristrella was right about that one.

“Er, well, yes?” he almost asked, as if uncertain now. “I’m the guy, this is my dungeon.”

“That’s good, because I have a lot of things to say to you. But first…”

I gave him what I hoped would be a joyful grin, and held out my hand. The Dungeon Master looked at it for a moment, hesitating, before reaching out and taking it. His hand eclipsed mine, and I hated the feeling.

My hand clamped down on his and I pulled him down towards me. It was easier than I expected; he seemed, physically, very weak. He grunted in surprise as he fell to one knee. That was just to get him on my level.

With my other hand, I formed a fist. I slammed it into the Dungeon Master’s face, feeling the man’s cartilage shift as I busted his nose.

“That’s for Ferrisdae, you sick son of a bitch.”