Riven

Riven stood at the edge of the portal chamber, his arms crossed and his eyes blazing with fury. His mana flared faintly around him, causing the dim room to pulse with an eerie red glow.

“Well? Did they leave or not, you inept bastard?” he snarled, his voice echoing off the chamber walls.

Darnel squeaked nervously, nodding frantically as if his head might fall off from the effort.

“And…” Riven’s voice lowered into a dangerous growl, his eyes narrowing, “you let them take the mana with them!?”

Darnel froze, his beady eyes darting left and right as if searching for an escape route. He let out a shrill, panicked squeak, shaking his head furiously in denial—only to stop halfway and begin nodding instead, his entire body trembling.

Riven’s gaze darkened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. His mouth twitched with suppressed rage as he stared down at the wretched creature, piecing together the obvious truth.

‘Wait… Was he just about to lie to me?’

The thought ignited his temper even further. Riven leaned forward, his voice a venomous roar. “DARNEL! IF YOU LIE TO ME, I SWEAR I WILL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO LIE ABOUT!”

The kobald squealed in abject terror, immediately throwing himself into a groveling position at Riven’s feet.

Riven straightened up, his anger simmering dangerously as he looked down at the pathetic creature. “You let them walk right out of here, didn’t you?”

Darnel’s squeaking grew louder, almost pleading now as he shook his head violently, gesturing toward the hallway as if to say, I tried, Master! I really did!

Riven sneered, his sharp teeth flashing. “Tried, did you? Tried and failed.” He let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temple. “Do you know what that means, Darnel? It means they’ve taken my mana—MY mana—and waltzed off without a care in the world!”

The kobald whimpered, curling further into himself, his trembling form somehow managing to look even more pitiful than before.

Riven paced in a tight circle, his boots clacking against the stone floor as his frustration mounted. “I give you one job, Darnel. ONE. JOB. Guard the floor. Keep the filthy humans out. And what do you do?” He spun around to glare at the creature, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You let them take my precious crystals like they’re on some kind of free shopping spree!”

Darnel let out a low, pitiful squeak, clearly unsure how to respond.

Riven scowled, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “You know, I should punish you for this. I really should. But the problem is…” His eyes swept over Darnel’s hunched form, from his patchy fur to his crooked snout. “You’re already the ugliest thing I’ve ever had the displeasure of looking at. There’s really not much more I can do to make you suffer.”

Darnel let out a hesitant, hopeful squeak, as if daring to believe he might escape further torment.

“…But don’t think for a second that I’ve forgiven you!” Riven snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. “I’ll think of something, don’t you worry. You’ll pay for your incompetence.”

Darnel whimpered, lowering himself even further until his snout practically touched the ground.

Riven sighed, his anger finally starting to cool as he crossed his arms again. “Get up. Stop groveling like a worm and go back to your post. If you screw up again, I will think of something worse. Understand?”

The kobald scrambled to his feet, nodding so frantically it looked like his head might come loose. With a final squeak of acknowledgment, he scurried off into the shadows, disappearing down the hallway.

Riven watched him go, his lip curling in distaste. “Pathetic.”

He turned back to the throne and slumped into it, staring at the glowing portal before him. His mind raced with thoughts of those humans who had dared to rob him blind—again.

Riven froze mid-thought, his eyes narrowing.

‘Blind?’

The word echoed in his mind as he replayed the events in his head. His gaze flickered to Darnel, who was still cowering in the corner, rubbing at his eyes and squinting as if trying to focus on the darkened room around him.

‘Wait… Darnel looked like he was struggling to see.’

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Realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.

‘Was it the same humans?!’

His claws curled into fists, his whole body stiffening as his anger boiled over once again.

“GAH!” he shouted, the sound bursting out of him before he could stop it. His frustration ricocheted off the walls of the chamber, causing a faint tremor to run through the room.

Darnel let out a panicked squeal from the corner, huddling even smaller in the shadows, his trembling form barely visible in the dim light.

Riven whipped around, pointing at the pitiful kobald with a finger. “SHUSH, DARNEL!” he barked, his voice laced with venom. “We have a pest problem—and you didn’t solve it! So I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses!”

Darnel whimpered, his head dipping lower, but Riven didn’t care. His fury wasn’t directed at the useless creature anymore. It was directed at them.

‘Those filthy humans got past my skeletons,’ Riven seethed internally, pacing back and forth in front of his throne. The image of their audacity burned into his mind. The same pests that had embarrassed him on the first day, again daring to intrude on his floors.

This wasn’t just a failure—it was an insult.

But as much as his anger burned, it was tempered by a cold, calculating thought: this failure wasn’t just Darnel’s. No, it was his.

‘This just proves I need to act,’ Riven realized, his pacing slowing as his eyes fell to the potion sitting on the nearby table. The translucent liquid shimmered faintly, its power waiting to be unleashed.

‘The skeletons,’ he thought. ‘They need this.’

The potion, his first experiment in the lab, had been designed to give the skeletons just the boost they needed—enough strength and resilience to contend with adventurers, but not so much that it would wipe out every party that wandered onto the second floor. It was meant to slow them down, drain their mana, and encourage them to retreat without costing him his harvest entirely.

But now, it wasn’t just about efficiency. It was personal.

But… he had to wait until the day’s harvest was over.

Riven sighed, leaning back against his throne as he glanced down at the glowing map displayed on the tablet in his hand. The red dots—the humans—were scattered sparsely across the dungeon’s first and second floors. None of them were even near the portal to his management floor.

The two most concerning dots—the ones that had so brazenly stolen his mana crystals—were now retreating, steadily making their way out of the dungeon.

Riven glared at the map with frustration, his claws gripping the tablet tightly. He didn’t like waiting.

“What are you cowards running for?” he muttered bitterly. “Afraid of a little challenge? Weaklings.”

But his irritation quickly gave way to a glimmer of an idea. His lips twisted into a sly grin as he leaned forward, his sharp teeth glinting in the faint light of the room.

There was one thing he could technically do during the harvest.

Laughing softly to himself, he stood up and grabbed the potion from the table beside him, the faintly glowing vial cool to the touch.

Riven knew he wasn’t supposed to leave his management floor during a harvest. The rules were clear: the dungeon master remained on their floor to oversee operations unless there was an emergency.

But who was to say what counted as an emergency? Surely the blatant incompetence of his skeletons was an emergency. If it wasn’t, then those insufferable humans returning to the portal room again definitely was.

Besides, he wasn’t going to let some bureaucratic rules stand in the way of fixing his dungeon.

“Rules are for lesser beings,” he muttered smugly as he strode toward the glowing portal.

Potion in hand, he stepped onto the swirling platform, his crimson cloak billowing behind him as the magic of the portal whisked him away to the second floor.

When the world reassembled around him, Riven found himself in one of the second floor’s darkened hallways. The faint hum of mana pulsed in the air, the faint sounds of shuffling skeletons echoing in the distance.

He glanced down at the potion in his hand, its clear liquid shimmering faintly.

“This better work,” he muttered, the memory of the goblin rebellion still fresh in his mind. “I’m not going through that again.”

He moved purposefully, stepping toward the center of the floor where the skeletons typically regrouped when no adventurers were nearby. The atmosphere of the floor was thick and cold, and the faint glow of distant torches illuminated little in the endless stretches of stone walls.

Riven paused in the middle of the hallway, tilting the vial in his hand and eyeing it thoughtfully.

Then, with a flourish, he uncorked it and tipped it forward, letting the liquid pour onto the cold stone floor.

The clear potion splashed against the ground, pooling briefly before beginning to evaporate.

The reaction was immediate.

The air in the hallway shifted, growing heavier, almost charged. The potion didn’t remain as a puddle for long—it seeped into the floor, vanishing as if the dungeon itself drank it up. A faint mist began to rise from where the liquid had been poured, curling upward and dispersing into the air.

Riven stepped back, his crimson eyes narrowing as he watched the effects take hold. The mist swirled faintly, moving unnaturally as it spread throughout the hallway. It clung to the air like an invisible haze, diffusing further with each second.

Then, in the distance, a low, groaning creak echoed.

Riven turned his head sharply, catching movement in the shadows. A skeleton stepped into the faint light, its hollow eye sockets glowing faintly with a new, eerie intensity. The brittle, clumsy gait of the skeletal creatures seemed steadier now, its movements more purposeful, more… threatening.

“Ah,” Riven murmured, his lips curling into a satisfied grin. “There we go.”

Another skeleton emerged from the shadows, then another. Each one carried the same faint glow in its eye sockets, the subtle but unmistakable presence of the potion’s effects coursing through them.

Riven clasped his hands behind his back, observing his newly enhanced minions with a sense of pride.

“That should make things a bit more interesting,” he said, his tone laced with satisfaction. “Let’s see those pests get past this.”

The skeletons stood at attention for a moment before beginning to shuffle back into position, their clattering bones echoing down the hallway.

Riven took a deep breath, letting the charged air fill his lungs before turning sharply on his heel. He made his way back toward the portal, his footsteps echoing softly against the stone.

As he approached the swirling light of the portal, he glanced back one last time, taking in the faint mist lingering in the air.

The humans thought the second floor was dangerous before?

They hadn’t seen anything yet.