Riven
It wasn’t long before the humans started making their way through the cracks and crevices of the dungeon, filtering in with a mix of caution and impatience. Some crept forward slowly, while others surged ahead at a reckless pace, as if the promise of treasure were a fire at their backs. Riven’s eyes flicked over the tablet, watching the tiny red dots marking their positions as they advanced, some stumbling straight into traps or unwisely charging right into groups of his creatures.
He giggled to himself, barely containing his excitement. This—this—was what being a dungeon master was all about.
‘Ah. It’s about the passion!’ he thought, eyes gleaming as he watched the adventurers struggle through his carefully designed floor. Riven was brimming with enthusiasm, the kind of heady excitement that came from finally seeing a long-held dream come to life. Even now, staring at the tablet’s screen, his fingers tracing the paths of the red dots on the map of the first floor, he felt like he was holding the reins of something grand and unstoppable.
The humans didn’t know it, but each reckless step forward brought them closer to serving his purpose. They were feeding his dungeon, funneling mana from their very souls into his traps, his creatures, his domain. They were the fuel that would build his legacy, and he relished every moment of it.
If he hadn’t had that stroke of luck—
"Uh, I mean, the terrible tragedy," he corrected himself hastily, his excitement dimming for a moment.
Riven’s smile faltered, his gaze softening as he remembered Sorvax. The exhilaration he felt was tinged with an undercurrent of sorrow. His teacher had been a monumental figure in his life, after all. Sorvax the Terrible, the legendary dungeon master, had chosen him as his apprentice. It was a choice that had surprised everyone, Riven most of all.
When he’d first received the news, he hadn’t believed it. He’d been one of hundreds of aspiring dungeon masters, each vying for the chance to learn from one of the greatest. And yet, Sorvax had chosen him.
It had been rough at first, of course. Sorvax’s lessons were… unorthodox, to put it kindly. Grueling, exhausting, and filled with cutting remarks that would have broken the spirit of a lesser demon. Riven could still hear his master’s voice, sharp and disdainful: “Incompetent! Clumsy! Do you have the memory of a dead fly?” Sorvax’s criticisms had cut deep, but they’d driven Riven to improve, to work harder and prove himself worthy.
Looking back, he could see that Sorvax’s harshness was his way of showing care—or at least, that’s what Riven had come to believe. Sorvax’s title, the Terrible, was a badge of pride, earned through decades of merciless dungeon mastery. But somewhere beneath the scorn and the gruffness, there’d been something almost… fatherly.
At least, Riven liked to think that was the case.
“I’ll have to do some research later,” he murmured, eyes distant as he mentally added it to his list. Sorvax had been a notoriously private figure, rarely sharing anything about his past or his accomplishments outside of dungeon management. In fact, now that Riven thought about it, he didn’t actually know much about Sorvax’s life beyond his role as a dungeon master.
“A true professional…” he said quietly, with a note of admiration.
With a determined nod, he refocused on the tablet. The screen displayed the first floor map in crisp detail, showing the adventurers’ movements. His gaze sharpened as he noticed a particular group of red dots inching dangerously close to the entrance portal.
"Huh… that group of humans is getting really close to the entrance portal," he muttered, a note of annoyance creeping into his voice.
The adventurers weren’t heading directly for it, which was a relief—if they somehow stumbled onto the portal and crossed it, they’d end up on his floor, and he’d have to… handle them personally. The thought made his skin crawl. While he was more than capable of defending the precious mana stores, the idea of actually touching a human was revolting. He shivered, the thought filling him with a sense of creeping dread.
Dungeon floors were designed to be labyrinthine, winding mazes meant to confuse and slow down the intruders. The corridors looped and twisted, with dead ends, hidden passages, and countless nooks and crannies to mislead even the most seasoned explorers. The layout was there to waste the adventurers’ time, sap their energy, and, of course, guide them into traps or creature ambushes. Humans weren’t exactly known for their sense of direction, especially in places like this. If he was lucky, they’d never find the portal at all.
‘They are kind of in the area of it, though…’ he thought, watching the red dots with a frown.
His fingers twitched with nervous energy as he considered his options. If they did happen upon the portal and make it to the next floor—his floor—he’d have no choice but to “persuade” them to leave. And in his line of work, “persuasion” meant force. He suppressed a grimace. The thought of having to physically confront a human, of actually interacting with their disgusting, fleshy presence…
He shuddered again, more intensely this time, and tore his gaze away from the tablet.
To distract himself, he glanced over at the row of large crates lined up against the far wall of his management chamber. These were his mana storage crates, enchanted containers where the dungeon’s harvested mana would crystallize into physical form. The crystals were the lifeblood of the dungeon, small and faintly glowing, each one representing the essence of the adventurers’ efforts, whether they knew it or not.
Walking over to the crates, he peered inside each one, counting his current reserves. Four of the crates were empty, their interiors dark and bare. But when he reached the fifth crate, he felt a surge of satisfaction. Nestled at the bottom were exactly twenty-three low-quality mana crystals, each one pulsing faintly with a soft, bluish glow. It wasn’t much, not by any measure of a veteran dungeon, but it was a start.
Straightening up, he glanced back at the tablet and pulled up the statistics screen, eager to see what he’d gathered so far.
Dungeon Management Menu
[Dungeon: Riven’s Dungeon]
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[Floors: 2]
[Daily Upkeep: 157 MP]
[Available Mana: 2,343 MP]
[Time Before Collapse: 14 Days]
[Refill Loot Cost: 87 MP]
He smiled, pleased with the numbers. He was on his way, slowly but surely, to building up a respectable dungeon.
“This should be enough to start a second floor!” Riven’s voice echoed with excitement as he examined the tablet in his hand, running through the possibilities for his brand new floor. The mana he’d accumulated was just enough to make the expansion worthwhile, and he felt a spark of pride as he imagined building out the next layer of his dungeon.
He began mapping out his plans, his mind racing. But as he visualized the new layout… he faltered.
‘…’
He realized, somewhat uncomfortably, that he didn’t actually know what he was doing. Sure, he’d muddled his way through setting up the first floor, but that had mostly been following Sorvax’s existing designs. This time, he’d be creating something entirely from scratch, and the weight of that responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders.
He looked up at the ceiling, as if his master might somehow be watching from beyond, scowling down at him as usual.
'What would you have done, Sorvax?' he wondered, his mind grasping for memories of his teacher’s methods. Sorvax had been a genius at designing dungeons—each floor was crafted with meticulous care, with layers of complexity that kept adventurers guessing. Riven’s own efforts felt embarrassingly crude in comparison.
“Ah hah!” he exclaimed, a sudden surge of confidence filling him as inspiration struck. “I’ll keep the same type of dungeon to stay consistent with the ‘lower floors’ theme. It’ll be mazier—yeah, that’s a word! More labyrinthine. Longer halls. More twists and dead ends to confuse those dumb humans.”
He paced the hallway between the entrance portal and his management chamber, talking aloud as he outlined his vision.
"What else does a floor need…? Oh! Monsters! Right, can’t forget those."
The undead and goblins he’d placed on the first floor had performed well enough, so why not continue with that tried-and-true combination? He tapped through the Creatures menu on the tablet, selecting Level 2 versions of skeletons and goblins.
The upgraded creatures would be stronger, faster, and—most importantly—cost more mana to maintain, but he figured the extra protection was worth the expense. With the stronger monsters in place, weaker humans wouldn’t be able to bypass them so easily, and the ones foolish enough to try would exhaust their resources just trying to survive.
He let out a small giggle, the thought filling him with gleeful satisfaction. He wanted to stack as much protection as possible between himself and the humans. Even though it was unlikely they’d make it to the portal on the first floor, he couldn’t shake the unsettling image of a filthy human stumbling onto his floor.
He turned to face the management chamber, the portal at his back giving a soft glow against the hallway.
‘What if one of them actually found the portal?’ he thought with a shiver. ‘I’d have to… touch them. Or worse, talk to them.’
As if summoned by his thoughts, a faint hum echoed through the hall, followed by the unmistakable sound of the entrance portal being activated.
His eyes widened, dread creeping over him like a cold mist.
“What?” he whispered, turning around, heart pounding.
Two humans stood at the end of the hallway, staring at him with wide, stunned eyes. The girl looked wary, already backing up with her hands raised in a defensive stance. The boy, in contrast, had a look of eager determination, his sword drawn and glinting faintly in the dim light.
‘WHAT?’ Riven’s mind screamed. ‘HOW ARE THEY HERE?’
Panic gripped him, his thoughts scattering in a frenzy. He’d barely had time to process the fact that they’d found the portal—his portal!—before his instincts took over.
Raising his hand, he summoned his magic, a red aura coalescing around his body as he prepared to deal with these intruders the only way he knew how: with overwhelming force.
The girl moved first, stepping back and chanting under her breath, clearly casting a defensive spell. At the same time, the boy advanced, raising his sword with one hand and beginning to channel a faint light with the other.
Riven sneered.
‘Pathetic’, he thought. ‘They think they can fight me?’
The red energy swirling around him intensified, pulsing with power as he prepared to unleash his magic. This was it—his first real test as a dungeon master, his chance to rid himself of these filthy humans before they contaminated his floor any further. He’d crush them, wipe them from existence.
Then he noticed the girl’s spell: a defensive shield, meant to protect the boy from Riven’s magic. Her casting was clumsy, amateurish—nothing that would hold up against his power.
But the boy… what was he casting? The light in his hand grew brighter, shifting from a dull glow to a iridescent flash.
And before Riven realized what was happening...
BLINDING LIGHT SEARED THROUGH HIS EYES.
“AHH! MY EYES!” he shrieked, staggering back as the light overwhelmed his vision, reducing the world around him to a painful, searing white.
Panic clawed at his mind, and he reacted instinctively, dropping into a crouch and throwing up a shield of his own—a barrier of dense, impenetrable magic that blocked out everything, sealing him inside a protective cocoon.
He could barely see. His vision was a blur of bright afterimages, his ears ringing with the echo of his own scream.
‘What… what happened? How did they do that?’
He’d been so sure of his power, so confident that he could obliterate them in a single move—and now he was crouched in his own hallway, blind and disoriented, hiding behind his own shield like a cornered rat.
From somewhere outside his shield, he heard the muffled, rough, grating voice of the human boy shouting to his companion.
"I’ve got him pinned! I can’t hold him forever though! He’s strong! Go get whatever loot the boss is protecting, quick!"
Footsteps pounded past him, running deeper into his floor. Riven’s heart plummeted as he realized what was happening. ‘They’re stealing from me!’
He wanted to lash out, to rip his shield down and attack, but he was trapped. If he lowered his defenses, he’d be left vulnerable, still half-blind and disoriented. If I drop this shield, they might kill me, he thought, bile rising in his throat at the bitter humiliation of it.
A moment later, he heard the sound of more footsteps—this time moving in the opposite direction, back toward the portal. And then the soft hum of the portal activating again, followed by silence.
Riven remained crouched behind his shield, waiting, his heart pounding as he listened for any hint of movement. Slowly, his vision returned, the blinding white fading into shapes and shadows until he could finally see the empty hallway once more. His hands shook as he lowered his shield, blinking as he took in the blissful silence of his floor.
“They… they’re gone?” he whispered, barely daring to believe it.
But the quiet was unmistakable. The filthy humans had left, slipping through his floor like ghosts, taking his loot and vanishing before he could even retaliate.
“That did not just happen!” he hissed, his fists clenching with rage and embarrassment. He’d been outsmarted—outplayed—by two weak humans who barely knew their own magic. His face burned with humiliation. Sorvax would be rolling in his grave if he’d seen that pathetic display.
Riven took a shaky breath, forcing himself to calm down. He couldn’t let this happen again. He’d let his guard down, underestimated them, and they’d taken advantage of his arrogance. It was a rookie mistake, one Sorvax would have scorned him for mercilessly.
“Fine,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice low and venomous. “If that’s how it’s going to be, then I’ll make sure the next floor is unbreakable.”
He glared at the portal, still fuming. He would build the second floor stronger, deadlier, with monsters and traps that even the cleverest human wouldn’t survive. If those adventurers dared to return, they’d find themselves in a maze of horrors beyond their worst nightmares.
‘This isn’t over’, he thought, his eyes narrowing with renewed resolve. ‘I’ll make them regret ever setting foot in my dungeon.’
With that, he turned back to his tablet, his mind racing with plans for a second floor that no human would escape.
But first… he had to go and see what he had left after the thieves left…