The portal opened into a spacious room lined with smooth stone benches. A modest fountain burbled softly in one corner, its clear water a soothing contrast to the trials they had faced. At the center of the room stood a sturdy stone chest, the typical dungeon method for distributing loot. The chamber exuded an almost unnatural calm, a sharp divergence from the chaos they had just escaped.
Trulda turned back toward the shimmering portal that marked the entrance from the second floor. Her brow furrowed as she stared at the empty space. “Weylan and Selvara were right behind us,” she said, her voice tinged with unease. “What’s taking them so long?”
The trio exchanged anxious glances as the minutes stretched. They sat on the benches, their exhaustion palpable, but worry kept them from resting.
Skorr leaned forward, gripping the edge of his seat. “Could they have been attacked outside the challenge area? Or…” he hesitated, “… could there have been other delvers?”
Ulmenglanz shook her head slowly, her expression grim. “That’s impossible. This dungeon uses isolated instances for each party. There’s no way anyone else could interfere. And enemies outside challenge zones, after defeating the floor boss?” She paused, her voice turning doubtful. “That’s unheard of.”
Their uneasy conversation was interrupted by a sudden flare of light. A small, circular portal flickered to life, and Galadressa flew through with frantic energy. The dungeon fairy, usually vibrant and lively, looked visibly distressed. Her wings fluttered sluggishly, and her expression was clouded with worry.
“Can you understand me?” she asked sharply, her voice tight with urgency.
The trio nodded in unison.
“Good,” Galadressa muttered, half to herself. “That means you’re no longer counted as active delvers inside the dungeon. Perfect.” Her tone didn’t match the word, and she hesitated, wringing the hem of her robe as though gathering her thoughts.
The silence thickened until Ulmenglanz broke it. “What happened to our teammates?”
Galadressa landed heavily on one of the benches, her usual grace gone. She avoided their gazes, her wings drooping. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “They… won’t be coming.”
Trulda’s hands tightened around her club, her knuckles turning white. “What do you mean?” Her voice was sharp with barely restrained anger. “What happened?”
Galadressa sighed, the sound heavy with frustration and guilt. “Selvara couldn’t enter the portal,” she explained. “And Weylan refused to leave her behind.”
The dryad shot to her feet, the wood of her limbs creaking with tension. “Did you trick her somehow? Is this some fairy dispute?”
Galadressa’s wings bristled in agitation. “What? No!” she snapped, her voice rising. “I tried everything I could to help! But…” She slumped, her tone softening. “… it’s complicated. Fairy magic is bound by rules, and those rules prevent me from intervening or even communicating directly with delvers while they’re in the dungeon.”
She struck the stone wall with her tiny fist, the motion more futile than angry. “Believe me, if there were anything else I could have done, I would have.”
Trulda’s voice remained sharp, though her anger seemed to soften into frustration. “So, are they taking another way out?”
Galadressa hesitated, her shoulders slumping further. “You could… call it that,” she said quietly.
Understanding dawned on Trulda, and she let out a heavy sigh, loosening her grip on her weapon. “They have to delve the third floor alone, don’t they?”
Galadressa nodded grimly. “Yes. There’s no other way. They’re resting for now, but in the morning, they’ll enter the third floor. And…” She looked away, her voice faltering. “Most likely, they won’t survive.”
The group sat in stunned silence, the weight of Galadressa’s words sinking in. They discussed the situation in hushed tones, rehashing the same possibilities and methods Selvara and Weylan had likely already considered. Every option led to the same grim conclusion: they couldn’t help.
Eventually, Galadressa left, promising to inform them of their teammates’ fate once it was known.
That night, the remaining teammates passed a restless vigil in the side room’s modest beds. Sleep came fitfully, and when it did, their dreams were haunted by thoughts of Weylan and Selvara.
Morning arrived, though the room’s stillness did little to mark the passage of time. The three gathered at the fountain, speaking softly to distract themselves. The conversation turned to their level-ups as they sought something—anything—to focus on besides the danger their friends faced.
Trulda stretched her broad shoulders, testing her strength. “I hit level six,” she announced, her tone practical but lacking her usual boisterous energy. “Put my new attribute point into Strength. Brings me up to fifteen.”
Skorr, sharpening his war-pick, nodded approvingly. “Good choice. What about feats?”
She frowned thoughtfully. “Too many options. I could go defensive, but I’m tempted by a charge attack. Would help me get into range faster.”
Ulmenglanz, sitting cross-legged nearby with her staff resting across her lap, chimed in. “Think about synergy. Your job isn’t just to deal damage. You anchor the battlefield. Controlling enemies’ movement is just as important.”
Trulda nodded again but didn’t respond, her gaze distant.
After a pause, she scanned their party’s status information. Her eyes widened slightly. “Well… except for Skorr at level eight, we’re all at six.”
The others checked their own status screens quickly. Trulda broke the silence first, her voice laced with both relief and hesitation. “They’re still alive. That’s live, right?”
Skorr nodded, his expression serious. “I’ve never seen the connection drop unless…”
Ulmenglanz finished the thought for him. “Unless a teammate dies,” she said quietly. Her steady voice carried a somber finality. “No need to sugarcoat it.”
They waited in tense silence, their eyes frequently darting to the two names and their accompanying health bars. When both health bars suddenly dipped, they flinched, Trulda muttering under her breath, “Come on… You can do it…”
The damage indicators fluctuated slightly, minor dips that barely registered before stabilizing. Just as the tension began to ease, a triumphant fanfare of trumpets blasted through the air, sending all three scrambling instinctively into evasive rolls and drawing their weapons. A portal shimmered open, and Galadressa emerged, beckoning frantically.
“They made it! Come on over! I’ll transfer the loot chest to the third-floor debriefing room.”
Without hesitation, they charged through the portal, relief washing over them as they found Weylan and Selvara battered but alive. Laughter and tears followed, alongside a chaotic flurry of storytelling. The jumbled accounts soon pieced together the harrowing tale.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Trulda chuckled, unable to stop herself. “You actually managed to speedrun a dungeon! Do you remember me telling you that’s something you only try when you know the dungeon inside out and are at the upper-level cap for it?”
Galadressa flitted over, lightly patting Weylan’s shoulder. “Well, if he keeps pulling stunts like this, he might unlock one of those ultra-rare movement feats.”
Weylan turned sharply. “Wait, what?”
Galadressa shrugged casually. “There’s a tiny chance to unlock a rare class-specific movement feat each time you complete a dungeon within a certain timeframe and reach the boss without taking significant damage. You could also do it while sneaking, without detection or triggering traps, to possibly unlock a rare stealth feat.”
Weylan didn’t respond, already scrolling through his notifications. He was very good at getting rare things. Being undermanned, under-leveled, and cursed with a disadvantage giving him a higher chance of learning or encountering rare things… Sure enough, there it was:
Assassins Movement feat unlocked.
Assassins Movement (Temporal Effect. 20% speed increase in combat or while moving at maximum speed. Permanently enhances all movement skills and effects slightly.)
There was no waiting for approval. He took the feat, then looked at Selvara, who also seemed to read notifications. She facepalmed and groaned.
“What did you get? I’ve got the Assassins Movement feat. It’s awesome,” he announced proudly, turning to Selvara. “What about you? Did you get anything?”
Selvara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I got... something,” she mumbled, her reluctance drawing curiosity.
The others leaned in, pressing her until she relented. “Fine. I unlocked the Riding (Humans) skill.”
Their laughter echoed through the room as Weylan started measuring his shoulders. “Well, it should be no problem to include a saddle or something to my back armor.”
The dryad added playfully, “Bridle and spores, maybe?” Then she grew more serious, glancing at the chest. “Can we get to the loot now? I’d really like to see if there’s something good.”
Galadressa harumphed. “Good? The Dungeon of Alchemy is famous for some of the best and most varied loot in the kingdom.” With a snap of her fingers, the chest on the room’s side unfurled, its sides falling away to reveal an assortment of treasures arranged neatly on a table.
You have completed three floors of the Dungeon of Alchemy.
Additional loot has been approved for being under-leveled and undermanned.
Skorr arched an eyebrow. “Undermanned? We’re a full party of five.”
Galadressa grinned, pointing her thumb at Selvara. “She’s technically a familiar, not a full party member. That means you’re one adventurer short.”
Skorr whistled. “That could come in handy. Now we just need to find another adventurer we can trust.”
Ulmenglanz waved him off impatiently. “Less talking, more looting!”
Trulda smirked. “Didn’t expect you to be this greedy.”
The dryad shrugged unapologetically. “It’s not greed. I’ve never gotten loot before. Or gifts, for that matter. It’s not something dryads do. I want to know what it’s like.”
As she touched the chest, it emitted a soft click and unfolded further. A dazzling array of items appeared, most notably an abundance of potion vials.
Before they could inspect the items, a deep voice resonated in their minds.
Galadressa froze, confused, as one of the items, a sleek black cloak, disappeared, replaced by a crumbling, ancient papyrus scroll.
Weylan eyed the scroll suspiciously. The dungeon heart didn’t sound angry, quite the opposite. It was more like it was suppressing laughter. What was Trevisanus trying to do? Then it clicked. The dungeon heart used the pretext to choose something as loot, instead of letting the usual dungeon mechanics choose something at least partly randomized.
He untied the string and unrolled the scroll, half-expecting it to explode, throw a pie at his face or just contain something in a language he couldn’t read. It was the later. The words sounded vaguely Old Cathurian, but after a moment they rearranged themselves into clear sentences before glowing green and vanishing entirely. The scroll crumbled to dust in his hands. Did he just cast a spell? Which one?
You have read an Ancient Cathurian Spell Imbuement Scroll.
You have learned the spell: Shadow Gate (Apprentice I)
Shadow Gate (Level 3 Shadow Magic Exclusive)
Connect two shadows you can perceive to open a gate between them.
Weylan gasped. “I can learn spells? Why did no one tell me?”
Galadressa turned to Selvara, who looked sheepish. “I thought we did,” she admitted. “But there’s a catch. You can only use shadow affinity mana. Normal spellcasters can use mana of any affinity. If they use mana with a matching affinity, the spell costs less mana, the effects are a bit stronger or both. You on the other hand need a spell structure that has been specifically designed only to use shadow mana exclusively.”
Galadressa nodded. “Shadow magic, as well as all other affinity restricted casting traditions, is considered obsolete since the Cathurian Empire fell. It’s too limiting compared to modern magic traditions. Classes that use affinity mana get their spells and spell-like effects directly from their class.”
Weylan’s disappointment lingered as he re-read the spell description. “Wait, does this mean I can create teleport gates like you and Selvara?”
Galadressa shook her head. “Not quite. The mana cost depends on the gate’s size. Unless you possess much higher mana reserves than I suspect, you’re not yet ready to transport yourself. Still, it’s a versatile spell. Use it wisely.”
“A noble gift…” Weylan saw her warning gaze and changed his tone. “… would have been better than this useless spell. That must be ancient. Completely obsolete. There’s a reason shadow magic is hardly used any more.”
Galadressa nodded. Her tone clearly not matching her words. “You got what you deserved.”
Galadressa took Selvara and pulled her to the chest. “These set of six potions is ideal for you! The effect is the same as standard potions, but the potions are concentrated so they fit into these tiny fairy sized vials. And they come with this matching potion bag. You’ve also bottled up the potion from the second floor, that’s the same stuff, just a bit weaker, since you… well, didn’t follow the recipe exactly enough. Your stirring method is also quite hasty.”
Selvara scoffed. “I’ve been fighting for my life at the time!”
Ulmenglanz had been meanwhile scanning the loot and let out a low whistle. “That’s a skill crystal! I haven’t seen one of those in years! What’s in it?”
Galadressa turned to him. “That contains the crossbow skill. Your group sorely lacks ranged combat ability, so that seems to be fitting.”
The dryad looked around, but everyone else shook their heads. Grinning broadly, she touched the crystal to her head.
You have learned the Crossbow skill (Apprentice V)
You have unlocked the Fast-Reload (crossbow) feat.
You have unlocked the Mobile Archer feat.
Weylan looked at her. “I could have shown you how to use a crossbow too.”
“Sure. But it would have taken precious time. I also unlocked some crossbow feats I can take with my next level up. Now I just need to buy a crossbow. A real one.” She pointed at the spread-out loot to a small crossbow, barely longer than two hands. “Not a toy like that.”
Galadressa looked at it. “Oh, I haven’t seen one of those in our loot in ages. That’s an Assassins’ Hand-Crossbow. It’s not much use without poison or magic bolts, but its range and precision are much higher than you’d expect for its size.”
Weylan made sure no one else wanted it and took it up reverently. Next to it he found belt-quiver full of bolts. He took that too and looked around for targets to try his new toy on.
Galadressa sighed. “Just use one of the benches. They’re easy to repair.”
He grinned went away to get out of the way of his teammates sharing up the rest of the loot.
The dryad meanwhile whistled happily while she sorted the potions and stored them in her bag.
Trulda had been amusing herself by watching her team members, but now she too looked at the items presented on the chest-table. After a brief discussion with her team, she put the 50 gold coins into the team fund. There were two other items left. A short axe and a belt made out of flexible metal. “Hey Skorr, can you use a throwing axe?”
“Never tried it. But since we really need to increase our teams ranged damage, it would be a good idea to learn. Thrown weapons scale their damage with the thrower’s strength. Which could be useful for me.”
“Okay, then you take the axe and I take this… Whatever is this thing?”
Galadressa came over and glanced at the item. “Oh, that’s a Belt of Strength. Increases your strength attribute by 2 permanently while wearing it. Classic dungeon loot, no need to mention it.”
“An artifact giving attributes? You know how rare those are? How often do you spawn those?”
“Oh, maybe once or twice a week. Gives a lot of experience, since we do get xp if the delvers kill each other over loot while still inside the dungeon.”
Trulda stared down at the belt, then looked around. She met only grinning faces. Weylan was the first to actually put it in words: “If that’s not something for a barbarian frontline fighter, I don’t know who else should get it.”
The grinning barbarian put on the belt. Its color changed to match perfectly with her Adventurer’s Dirndl.
Galadressa arched an eyebrow. “Looks like Trevisanus added a fashion enchantment as a bonus. That’s unusually considerate of him. Well, that’s it. About as good a haul as you can expect from a dungeon of this level. Come back when you’re all at least level 8.” She turned to Selvara with a knowing smile. “Oh, and you and I will be seeing each other much sooner. There’s an invitation waiting for you at your dungeon. I’ll meet you there.”