It wasn’t long before the humans began to scatter throughout the dungeon’s maze-like tunnels, their red dots spreading across the tablet’s map like a swarm of ants. They would soon fill the dungeon’s cracks and crevices, hunting for the loot that Riven had carefully seeded across the floor with his limited mana.
He watched them scurry, greedily picking up mana crystals and low-level trinkets, oblivious to the fact that their very presence was feeding his dungeon’s power. He knew they believed they were getting the better end of the deal, that they were the hunters. But in truth, they were his prey.
"Yes," he murmured to himself, leaning over the tablet with a gleeful smile. "Take the bait, you greedy pests. Fill your pockets."
Every loot item they found, every trap they triggered, every skirmish with his monsters added just a trickle of mana to his reserves. Small gains, yes, but they added up. And with enough humans tromping through his dungeon, even those small amounts would start to make a difference.
The humans were happy “customers” in the grand halls of Riven’s Dungeon, sure, but that wasn’t the outcome he was truly after. What he really wanted was to keep them trapped here, enticed, tempted, until they fell deeper and deeper… until they had nothing left to give.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake he’d made last time. No human would reach his floor today. He’d prepared, planned, and now he would stand guard over the map, his eyes fixed on the screen, tracking every movement in the engraved 2-dimensional layout of the dungeon’s first floor.
“I won’t let it happen again,” he muttered to himself, a steely resolve in his voice. “Once you’ve tricked me, that’s it. You’re not getting away with it twice!”
He stared at the screen for a couple of reasons, both practical and personal.
Firstly, it was entertaining. Watching the humans blunder through his maze, encountering traps, creatures, and false leads, was deeply satisfying. There wasn’t much to do as a dungeon master in the early days other than observe, plan, and enjoy the show. Later, when he had a larger mana reserve, he could implement more complex security measures—alarms, motion wards, enchantments that would alert him to intruders nearing critical areas of the dungeon. But those features were prohibitively expensive for now.
More advanced security options could even allow him to take direct action, triggering traps remotely or redirecting humans toward more dangerous paths. The thought of having such power at his fingertips made his eyes gleam with anticipation. But for now, he had to settle for the basics.
The second reason, however, was less about entertainment and more about his own nervousness. Yesterday’s failure still stung. Those two adventurers had not only breached his floor but had managed to get away with a small fortune of mana that should have been his. The humiliation of it simmered in his mind, and he could feel a knot of anger tighten in his chest as he remembered the smug look on that human boy’s face as he’d flashed that blinding light spell.
“Damn beasts,” he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with disdain.
From somewhere in the hallway outside, he heard a low, offended grunt. Darnel.
Riven blinked and glanced up, surprised. “Did I… say that out loud?” he whispered.
He hadn’t realized just how worked up he’d gotten, but even the kobold seemed to have picked up on his frustration.
He grimaced but quickly shook it off. ‘No time to get flustered’, he told himself.
This was about efficiency, about strategy. Now that he understood the lengths humans were willing to go to reach the higher floors, he could mitigate the threat simply by watching the screen—by keeping a close eye on the portal and tracking the locations of the humans who wandered too close.
If any adventurer tried to approach the portal again, he’d have enough time to act. He could warn Darnel in advance, give his guard the signal to intercept any human foolish enough to come sniffing around his domain. Darnel’s job would be simple: escort them out… forcefully, if necessary.
Riven’s lips curled into a smile. He felt a surge of satisfaction just imagining it.
‘This is what Sorvax would have done’, he told himself, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.
‘And with Darnel here, it’s not just me against them anymore.’
He returned his gaze to the tablet, eyes flicking across the red dots as they continued their advance through the dungeon.
For a while, the day progressed uneventfully. Humans trickled in and spread through the dungeon’s winding corridors, wandering around, picking up loot, battling weak monsters here and there. Occasionally, a red dot would drift dangerously close to the portal leading up to his floor, sending a spike of anxiety through Riven—but each time, they would veer off down an alternate path at the last moment, oblivious to how close they’d come to discovering his domain.
He let out a breath each time they turned away, feeling the tension ease from his shoulders. He knew he had the strength to take on any adventurer at their current level—at least, in theory. But humans were a special kind of unpredictable, always pulling out strange and irritating tricks just when you thought you had them figured out. Like the one who had blinded him yesterday, making him look like a fool in his own domain.
‘Ugh! Let it go!’ he scolded himself, rubbing his temples in frustration. He could practically hear Sorvax’s voice in his mind, sneering at him for dwelling on a single mistake. Sorvax wouldn’t have tolerated this kind of self-pity. No, his master would have scolded him openly, probably for hours, until Riven was left feeling as small as a dust mote. And then Sorvax would have bullied him about it for days afterward, bringing it up at every opportunity with a smirk and a roll of his eyes.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
And yet… Sorvax would have eventually let it go. He always did. The scolding and insults were never personal, Riven had learned that in time. His teacher would simply forget about one failure when the next one came along, moving on to belittle Riven for a fresh mistake instead. Somehow, that had felt like a kind of forgiveness. In his own twisted way, Sorvax had taught him that mistakes were natural—as long as you learned from them.
“So why,” Riven muttered to himself, “am I so unforgiving of myself?”
The tablet didn’t respond, but he could almost feel the ghost of Sorvax’s exasperated scowl behind him, urging him to stop wasting time and get back to work. Deciding to shelve his self-reflections for later, Riven refocused on the tablet, tracking a particular group of adventurers moving through the dungeon’s hallways.
It was a party of four, and they were progressing at a steady pace, their formation tight and disciplined. They clearly knew what they were doing, even at their low level, carefully navigating traps and dispatching the weaker monsters without much trouble. They hadn’t come close to the portal yet, but they were nearing an area where he’d stationed one of his assassin goblins—a particularly vicious creature that had a knack for picking off stragglers with stealthy, calculated strikes.
‘Yes! Go that way!’ Riven thought, his fingers tightening around the edges of the tablet as he watched their dots creep closer.
This goblin was one of his better investments, specifically chosen to create a bit of chaos within groups, striking from the shadows before the humans had a chance to defend themselves. His heart raced with anticipation, a smug grin spreading across his face as he envisioned the outcome.
Just as the group passed the assassin goblin’s hiding spot, he watched the dot representing the goblin lunge at the adventurers. There was a brief, frantic flurry of movement on the screen as the party scrambled to respond—but then, one of the red dots flickered and extinguished, followed swiftly by the goblin’s own dot disappearing.
Riven stared at the tablet, a sense of shock and satisfaction filling him all at once.
“Yes! My first kill!” he exclaimed, feeling a thrill of pride.
An adventurer had fallen in his dungeon! The goblin had been defeated in the end, but not before it had taken one of the humans with it.
From the hallway, he heard a low, rumbling grunt. Darnel. The kobold seemed to be grinning as well, as if sharing in his master’s excitement.
Riven allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. Every dungeon master remembered their first kill, and it was a rite of passage in a way. A sign that his dungeon was finally achieving that balance of danger and reward. It meant he was doing something right—providing enough challenge for most adventurers to progress, but reaping a few along the way.
He felt a strange warmth in his chest, a sense of accomplishment that he hadn’t felt in a long time. For so long, he’d been in Sorvax’s shadow, watching and learning, always striving but never quite reaching his master’s level. But now, here he was, managing his own domain, reaping his own rewards. Sorvax’s voice still lingered in the back of his mind, scolding and guiding, but today he felt as though he’d taken his first real step forward on his own path.
"Yes," he muttered, eyes glinting as he continued to watch the screen. "This is how it’s done."
The surviving adventurers, shaken but undeterred, continued on their way, their movements a bit more cautious now. They lingered near loot spots, taking longer breaks between encounters as they nursed their wounds and regrouped. The loss of their companion had slowed them down, but it hadn’t stopped them entirely.
‘Good’, he thought with satisfaction. ‘Fear me. Caution is just another way to make you spend longer in my halls.’
Every additional minute they spent wandering through his dungeon drained their stamina, their focus, their morale. It made them easier targets, less likely to reach the portal. With each passing hour, they’d grow weaker, their resolve chipped away by the endless corridors, the hidden traps, the lurking creatures. And the longer they stayed, the more mana he could harvest from their efforts.
Riven settled back, allowing himself to relax—just a little. For now, the humans seemed to be staying well away from the portal. His tablet showed a handful of other parties progressing at various speeds through different parts of the dungeon, but none of them seemed to be moving toward the pathway that would lead to his floor.
‘Still’, he reminded himself, ‘there’s no room for complacency.’
He kept his focus on the map, his eyes darting between groups, watching for any sign of deviation. Adventurers were unpredictable, and he’d learned the hard way not to assume they would always take the easiest or most obvious path. If any of them even looked like they were considering heading toward the portal, he’d be ready to act.
But for now, he allowed himself to savor his small victory. His first kill. The first of many, he hoped.
"Thank you, Sorvax," he whispered softly, almost to himself, though he knew his master couldn’t hear him. "I’m learning. Slowly, maybe… but I’m learning."
As the day wore on, Riven watched with satisfaction as the red dots on his tablet began to thin out, marking the slow but steady exodus of adventurers from his dungeon. One by one, the parties began making their way toward the entrance, their pockets heavy with loot and their steps a little slower, burdened by fatigue from a long day of dungeon crawling. The halls grew quieter, emptier by the minute, and Riven felt a strange sense of calm settle over him.
He glanced up at the countdown timer above his throne, noting with mild surprise how quickly the day had slipped by. Time was running out for the filthy intruders—I mean, humans! he mentally corrected himself—for the humans to leave. Once the timer hit zero, the portal would destabilize, trapping any unfortunate souls still inside. Riven had to admit, there was a certain appeal to the thought of trapping a few stragglers, but he knew that letting humans leave on their own today would build the dungeon’s reputation. More would come tomorrow, drawn by tales of treasure and challenge, and they’d bring more mana with them.
In the end, though, every last adventurer managed to make it out safely before the portal closed. Riven watched the final red dot flicker out of existence, and the dungeon fell into silence.
A slow grin spread across his face. His second-ever harvest day had been a resounding success. Not a single human had breached his floor; no one had even come close to his portal. And the mana he’d accumulated was more than he’d dared to hope for. He swiped over to the Dungeon Management Menu on his tablet, feeling a surge of pride as he reviewed the day’s results.
Dungeon Management Menu
[Dungeon: Riven’s Dungeon]
[Floors: 2]
[Daily Upkeep: 157 MP]
[Available Mana: 2,632 MP]
[Time Before Collapse: 17 Days]
[Refill Loot Cost: 95 MP]
2,632 MP.
He hadn’t expected to gather so much mana in a single day, not this early on. The humans’ greed had worked in his favor, drawing them deeper into the dungeon, encouraging them to take risks. And the death of that single adventurer had been a bonus—a small but significant reminder of his growing power, and a warning to those who would dare to enter again.
Riven leaned back on his throne, exhaling a satisfied breath. The second day was an undeniable improvement over the first. He hadn’t had to rely on Darnel, hadn’t faced any unexpected threats to his mana reserves. Instead, everything had gone according to plan. And now, with over two thousand mana points in reserve, he was in a position to make real upgrades.
And with that, he returned his gaze to the screen, his mind already racing with ideas for future upgrades. This was only the beginning. One day, it would be a fortress—an empire of traps, creatures, and treasures that would make even Sorvax proud.
But for now, he could finally build the second floor.