After I’d finished levelling Nar-shesh, I sent him back upstairs to help the others get settled in for the duration of their stay. It seemed they were still discussing how long that would be, in light of my declaration of war on Literally Everything - which, y’know? Fair enough. They were ordinary people with ordinary-people problems. They had lives they could try and go back to, however hard or tragic. I, on the other hand, had incredible magical power and literally nothing else to do with my time. Honestly, the gods - or whoever else had brought me here - had no one to blame but themselves. You know I had to do it to ‘em.
I set [Dungeon Domain] back to passive mode. Hopefully it would help me dig out these limestone caves a little more. I hadn’t really experimented with the passive mode yet: when I was digging out the main shaft, I’d kept it in active mode to refill my azoth as fast as possible. This would be an experiment to see how passive mode actually impacted my recovery rate, and find out what I could expect from its autonomous dungeonforming.
In the meantime, I had a chunk of skill points left to spend. For that matter, I still hadn’t fully investigated all the skills I already had. I pulled up my skill list and set about correcting that.
Skills
[Dungeon Core]
* [Boss]
* [Eternal]
* [Grain Avoidance]
* [Unsleeping]
* [Valuable]
* [Domain Awareness]
* [Dungeon Domain]
* [Bind Minion]
* [Empower Minion]
* [Azoth Mutation]
* [Fast Reshaping]
* [The Heart Speaks]
* [Apophic Tongue]
* [Greater Azoth Pool+]
* [Greater Azoth Respiration+]
[Friend to Goblins]
[Lily’s Charm]
[Monster]
* [Humanslayer]
[Overkill]
[Scholar]
[Trapper]
[Underdog]
[Greater Azoth Pool+] and [Greater Azoth Respiration+] seemed self-explanatory, and a quick read confirmed as much. They offered, respectively, both a big static increase and a tiny percent-scaling boost to my azoth pool size and azoth recovery rate. Given how frustratingly slow my recovery rate had felt up until now, I wondered whether that sluggishness was normal, or if my pool was just so ridiculously large (and [Dungeon Domain] so ridiculously costly) that my boosted regeneration seemed slow by comparison. With the system still not showing me any actual numbers, I supposed there was no way to know.
Nar-shesh had confirmed that my version of [Trapper] worked the same as his earlier: whenever I set a trap, it would have a higher chance of successfully ensnaring a victim and a slight increase to damage. He hadn’t been able to offer any insight into the rest of my skill list, unfortunately. He’d explained, somewhat defensively, that the plague that killed his father had devastated the elder generation of the tribe, and took a huge swathe of their accumulated institutional knowledge and historical memory with it. It clearly bothered him that I might think of his people as ignorant or incurious, which I sympathized with. Back on Earth, I’d often wished that I could violently murder people who were condescending to me. I supposed I could murder them now, if I wanted, which was a small silver lining to this whole situation.
In any case, I continued reading down my list of skills.
[Lily’s Charm]
You are an initiate of the subtle mysteries shared between women. Small bonus to certain social actions [⚢]. Some [Women ♀] will be friendlier towards you.
Hm. Hm! I probably shouldn’t have felt as validated by that as I did. Remember, Persephone, not half an hour ago you were declaring the system your irrevocable enemy. Don’t go calling backsies just because it said your pull game is insane and chicks dig you. That said, the odds of giving some deserving girl her lesbian awakening at some point during this isekai, despite having been cruelly robbed of the villainess-otome-game setting I deserved, were looking better by the minute. Hang in there, hypothetical hot dragon butch. Your dungeon femme is on her way.
[Overkill]
Those who stand against you are utterly annihilated. Whenever you kill a foe, if you dealt excess damage equal to or greater than their maximum HP, regain a small amount of azoth.
Alright, that was pretty cool. Who didn’t love making big numbers happen? And now there’s additional incentive? Sign me up. It probably wasn’t actually all that good, though: definitionally, if I was overkilling someone that hard, then the fight was probably easy enough that I didn’t need a little extra azoth. Maybe the intended use-case was recouping the cost of making big area attacks against hordes of weak enemies… Hm. I’d have to experiment with it later, I supposed.
[Scholar]
You are broadly-read and diligent in your studies, but most of all you know how little you yet know. Tiny increase to system access. Significant increase to reading speed. Rare chance to refund 1 skill point upon gaining a Knowledge skill.
This was what increased system access looked like? Half the damn menu is still either access-denied or only labelled with question marks! Fucking bullshit. An ordinary person in this world might as well not even have system access, apparently. And significantly increased reading speed, huh? I’d already been a pretty fast reader when I was a human, and I hadn’t really noticed a difference. A skill point refund on knowledge skills was appealing, at least. Hopefully the gains on that would really add up over time - though, with only a rare chance, and not having any idea about the relative utility of knowledge skills compared to other options, I supposed I’d need to wait and see. Couldn’t let the seductive allure of meme builds interfere with my optimization. The refund hadn’t proc’d when I bought [Apophic Tongue], which had been keyworded as a Knowledge skill. That was kind of a bummer, but no use crying over spilled milk - spilled skill points? No use crying over skilled points. There we go. I’m hilarious.
Last on my list of skills was [Underdog], which I’d gotten for killing an adventurer more than ten levels above me. I was absolutely confident that would have been impossible in a straight fight: hopefully, the reward for doing the impossible was appropriately juicy.
[Underdog]
They shouldn’t count you out just yet.
…Bruh. That was it? That’s all I got? What the hell does that even mean? Don’t get me wrong, it sounds cool, but was some actual mechanical detail about what this skill did too much to ask for? I couldn’t stay mad for long, though. I was a sucker for that cryptic shit, and I knew it. Something this cool was practically guaranteed to come in clutch at a critical moment when I’d all but forgotten about it.
Besides, I still had skill points to spend! Twelve whole skill points, in fact, which was a lot. I began browsing my list of new options, of which there were a truly daunting number. Like, truly daunting. My mind went blank as I scrolled, and scrolled, and scrolled down the list.
Okay, Persephone, don’t get overwhelmed. You know how to tackle this. Remember, focus on what will give you the biggest short-term power boost. Survival comes first: you can optimize later. With that in mind, a few skills caught my eye as good candidates.
[Deadly Labyrinth]
Prerequisites: [Dungeon Domain], [Trapper]
Cost: Low
Keywords: Modal
Duration: Permanent/Instant
PASSIVE: Your domain will automatically generate traps consistent with your dungeon mythos. Trap spawn rate is very slow.
ACTIVE: Spend azoth to instantly reset traps. Azoth cost scales with number of traps, trap setup difficulty, and trap materials cost.
Hm…traps were a key part of any dungeon. Not having to micromanage them was an appealing thought: my attention could only be in so many places at once. An instant reset of all my traps could be lifesaving during a large incursion. “Automatically” worried me, though. If I was going to have traps, I wanted to intelligently incorporate them into my strategies. Plus, what about the goblins? I couldn’t risk having one of them walk into a spike pit I didn’t even know was there, or some other equally horrible thing. Could I set my traps to not be triggered by bound minions? But then, even if I could, what about the ones who didn’t want to bind themselves to me? I wasn’t going to make my protection contingent on their servitude: that would be an abuse of power, plain and simple. No, I couldn’t afford to give up control in that way. [Deadly Labyrinth] would have to wait until I was confident I could manage its effects.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
[Spontaneous Generation]
Prerequisites: [Azoth Mutation]
The fecund azoth of your domain will automatically give rise to new minions, consistent with your dungeon mythos. Minion spawn rate is slow. Minion starting level range determined by ????.
Alright, adding “fecund” to the list of things I’ve been called by strangers that made me uncomfortable. That said, this seemed like a solid pick, ominously obfuscated text notwithstanding. Maybe that had something to do with my mysterious class quest? [Spontaneous Generation] appealed to me because it directly addressed an urgent problem, which was manpower - or goblinpower, in this case. Due to the nature of my existence as a dungeon core, I couldn’t hide, retreat, or strategically maneuver. I was obliged to mount a defense of a static position, which was inherently disadvantageous for a smaller and weaker force. This would let me at least begin to remedy the “smaller” part of that problem. I went ahead and purchased [Spontaneous Generation].
Another skill that branched from [Azoth Mutation] caught my eye next.
[Mutagenic Domain]
Prerequisites: [Azoth Mutation]
The corruptive azoth of the dungeon core twists its minions into increasingly horrid forms. Creatures within your domain have a small chance to develop mutations consistent with your dungeon mythos. Mutation check interval is very long. Minions may also develop mutations upon level-up. Level-up mutation chance is increased.
Hm. Hmmmmm. That was very tempting. It was exactly the sort of passive growth-booster that I liked to pick up early on in games, to give its effects more time to compound. I still didn’t know what a “dungeon mythos” was, though. Given how often that was coming up, it felt like a bigger and bigger blind spot, and was making me more and more nervous.
I resisted the urge to stop what I was doing and go hunt through my status menu for an explanation. Focus, girl. Skilled points. We are skilling points right now.
A very long wait between each chance to trigger a mutation obviously went directly against my need for maximum short-term gains. However, I had a gaggle of goblins and various flavors of wildlife with levels ranging from 0 to 3, and I intended to have as many of them as possible at 10 or higher by the end of the week. Then there was the new drip-feed of minions from [Spontaneous Generation], too. With all that power-levelling going on, the increased chance of mutation on level-up seemed pretty relevant.
Fuck it, might as well. [Mutagenic Domain], go! Ten skill points left: what else seemed interesting?
[Trap Affinity: Earth]
Prerequisites: [Trapper]
Keywords: Mythos (Earth)
Your affinity for the element of [Earth] empowers your traps. Small increase to damage and disarm difficulty of your [Earth] traps. Small decrease to setup difficulty of [Earth] traps. Shifts mythos towards [Earth].
Okay. Oh-kay. A theory was starting to take shape, now. [Trap Affinity: Earth] was the first skill I’d read that influenced my mythos as part of the skill effect, rather than referencing it to determine the skill’s effects. On instinct, I called up the description for [Dungeon Domain]: sure enough, my increased system access had granted me some new information about the skill.
[Dungeon Domain]
Prerequisites: Dungeon Core Lv. 0+
Cost: High
Duration: Indefinite
Keywords: Modal, Class-locked
Gradually reshape your surroundings in a large area around yourself.
– ACTIVE: Reshape your surroundings as you please, consistent with dungeon mythos. Viable path to core must exist. Certain other restrictions apply.
– PASSIVE: Azoth cost significantly decreases, xp gain decreases, rate of effect decreases. Surroundings are automatically reshaped according to dungeon mythos.
So, posit: a mythos is a personal legend, the aggregate of someone’s competencies and inclinations as expressed through their skills. I didn’t know if the mythos only cared about skills, what it did, or how else I could use or interact with it, but I now at least could guess at what my skills meant when they said “consistent with dungeon mythos.” Hopefully, all that meant was “consistent with your general vibe.” I suppose time would tell if it was, in fact, more restrictive than that.
That said, as amusing as specializing myself as the “drop rocks on people” dungeon was, did I want to make a commitment to an [Earth] mythos so early, before fully understanding what it entailed? Probably not. I decided to pass on [Trap Affinity: Earth] for the time being. As I continued to read through my skills, though, I started noticing others that would shift my mythos in one direction or another. [Healing Spring] allowed me to imbue water features with health-restoring magic, and shifted my mythos towards [Water]. [Thick Walls] required [Durability], which I didn’t have, but it would have made all stone and earth within my domain more resistant to damage, making it harder for adventurers to just smash through them: it would shift my mythos towards [Earth]. [Domain of Nightmares] afflicted everyone within my domain with the [Nightmare] debuff whenever they slept - including my minions - and shifted my mythos towards [Dream] and [Dark]. From that, at least, I inferred that my mythos could be aspected in more esoteric directions than just the classical elements, which was intriguing.
Giant Mutant Owl (Minion) has killed Guard Dog - Lv. 5. Gained xp from xp sharing!
Hey. Hold on. Giant Mutant Owl did what now?
----------------------------------------
The day started going wrong, in a completely different and unexpected way than it had already gone wrong up until that point, shortly before they reached the house. Pacifica had stopped crying. She felt hollowed-out, numb, like her body had left her behind back in the woods. Mom was still screaming at her, probably, but Pacifica’d be damned if she heard a single word the woman was saying.
She’d probably be damned regardless, honestly.
They were maybe twenty feet from the house, close enough for Faithful to start growling at her from the porch like he wanted to rip her throat out - his customary greeting. The dog seemed aware her parents’ attitude towards her, and imitated it as best he knew how. He started barking, though, which was not typical - harsh, urgent alarm barks, living up to his system designation as a Guard Dog.
A shadow passed over them. Mom wheeled around with a [Fireball] already in hand, the hair-trigger reflexes granted to her by [Alertness] finally being put to use for their intended purpose rather than for whirling around to snap at Dad when he stepped too close to her in the kitchen. Something large and feathered flapped its massive wings with a curiously silent blast of air, and a notably un-silent squawk of dismay, as it dodged the human woman’s magic attack by crash-landing in the muck of the courtyard.
Pacifica, the feeling that she was lagging several seconds behind events exacerbated by said events’ sudden turn for the chaotic, distantly noted that they had just entered battle with a Giant Mutant Owl - Lv. 7. Wow, level 7. That was pretty high. Even Mom was only level 5.
The owl let out an eerie trill, flaring its wings and raising its tail in a threat display as it circled them. “Pacifica, get behind me,” her mother snapped, another [Fireball] at the ready in her hand as she turned to keep the owl in front of her. The owl's eyes were eerie expanses of mirror-black in its face. Pacifica could see her mother's skill-flame reflected in them, like inverse pupils.
Faithful's barking had stopped at some point, and it became clear why when he let loose a guttural snarl and attempted to savage the monster-bird's wing. It took to the air to dodge the dog's attack, screeching angrily at him as he leaped after it. The sight would have been comical, in another situation. Mom hurled her [Fireball], and missed, but the owl was already flapping away from them. Was it retreating? Had she driven it off?
Pacifica's mother grabbed her by the arm again and took off running for the house. Pacifica stumbled along after as best she could. Then, the shadow passed over them again, and she just had time to throw herself out of the way before the azoth mutant’s talon-first pounce completely obliterated the porch railing. She was sprawled in the dirt: her mother had landed in the doorway. The owl was between them.
Mom tried to dart around the owl to get to Pacifica, but it sidestepped to block her path, making that trilling threat-display again. She juked the other direction, and the owl blocked her again. It's keeping her away from me, Pacifica realized. Why? Why not just start eating me? With a yell of frustration, Mom charged directly at the owl, spending deep from her azoth pool to conjure two more [Fireball]s, one for each hand. It screeched and batted her away with a wing, sending her tumbling head-over-heels away from the house. By this point, Faithful had re-entered the fight: he and the bird circled each other, looking for an opening.
"Pacifica, get inside!" Her mother yelled, struggling to her feet and cradling an arm bent in the wrong direction. It was amazing how pissed-off she still managed to sound, under the circumstances. Pacifica was shocked from her terror-induced stillness through long-conditioned reflexes of instant obedience. As she began to move, some childish instinct of compassion shoved the thought into her head: I need to get Faithful inside too. The owl might hurt him.
Without a moment to think it through - he was still in a standoff with the bird and distracting him could be fatal, he was more than twice her level anyway and didn't need protecting, he was a guard dog and this was what he was for - her hands reached for his collar.
Faithful, predictably, who had never liked her and was at the best of times mean and half-feral, reacted as dogs often do under extreme stress by whirling and sinking his teeth into her arm.
Oh, she thought, in the moment before the pain began.
Then there was a deafening screech that felt like it was right by her ear, and a sickening crack as the owl pounced on Faithful with its full weight, snapping his spine and digging its talons deep between his ribs. The dog instinctively released Pacifica, turning to strike at the owl in his last dying moments. The owl's merciless beak flashed forward, spearing through an eye-socket into brain, and Faithful went limp.
There was a strange moment, then. The owl, its unsettlingly large head and inhuman face mere inches from Pacifica's own, just…looked at her. The eerie blackness of its eyes flicked to the sides, revealing irises of mesmerizing gold. Blood dripped from its beak, and both of their chests heaved for breath, but the whole world was as silent as if it was holding its breath.
Then Mom's latest [Fireball] actually hit it, as it was distracted and had its back turned. With an incongruously pitiful and warbling cry of pain, it launched itself into the air and fled, trailing smoke and embers, back toward the forest.