John stood before his new abode, and the sight that unfolded before him took his breath away. It wasn’t just a house, or even a mansion; it was a majestic palace, sprawling and grand, extending as far as his eye could see. As he surveyed his surroundings, taking in the details of this new environment, he was greeted by a sky of the clearest, most vibrant blue he had ever witnessed. White, fluffy clouds, like puffs of cotton candy, meandered lazily across the azure expanse, casting gentle shadows on the landscape below. The scene bore such a striking resemblance to the surface world, to the world above the dungeon, that John was momentarily taken aback, a sense of disorientation washing over him. He almost felt as if he had been teleported back to the surface, not deeper into the dungeon. He pondered whether this was truly the entrance to the tenth floor he had heard so much about, the legendary level that was said to hold wonders beyond imagination. He hadn’t fully grasped, until this very moment, its uncanny similarity to the world above, the world he had left behind. Yet, despite the stunningly realistic sky, despite the convincing illusion of open space, John knew, deep down, that there was a roof overhead, a tangible barrier separating him from the true, unfiltered sky. This subtle but undeniable knowledge gave the scene a slightly artificial feel, a sense of being in a carefully crafted simulation. This led him to wonder, a strange and unsettling thought creeping into his mind: did the surface itself, the world above, have a ceiling unbeknownst to him, a vast, invisible dome casting an illusion of infinity, a trick of the light that made the sky seem endless? His gaze then shifted from the sky to the palace itself, and his breath caught in his throat once more. The structure was truly impressive, a towering edifice that resembled a colossal tree, its branches reaching towards the simulated sky. But upon closer inspection, John realized that the entire palace, from its base to its highest “branches,” was crafted from blocks, distinct and separate units that were unmistakably artificial. Yet, despite their artificial nature, the blocks exuded an aura of serenity, a calming presence that John found profoundly comforting, a welcome contrast to the unsettling thoughts that had just crossed his mind.

As John drew closer to the imposing, tree-like structure, the air around him buzzed with a palpable energy. He was greeted by a lively throng of people, a diverse mix of adventurers, merchants, and curious onlookers, all immersed in spirited conversations, their voices mingling together to create a vibrant hum. He overheard snippets of their discussions, fragments of sentences that painted a clear picture of the excitement and speculation surrounding his new abode. “Who could possibly be the owner of this magnificent edifice?” one individual wondered aloud, his voice filled with awe as he gazed up at the towering structure. “It’s simply breathtaking!” “Certainly, a person of extremely high stature,” another chimed in, his tone conveying a sense of respect and admiration. “Someone with immense power and influence within the dungeon.” “And let’s not forget,” a third voice interjected, “the dungeon’s recent reveal of ‘Hell’s Bells’! That song has drawn crowds here from all over, people coming solely for the tunes, eager to experience the music within this unique setting.” Heads nodded in concurrence, a murmur of agreement rippling through the small group. “Truly,” another person added, his voice tinged with a hint of disbelief, “the real estate values in this area have soared too tenfold, maybe even more! Who would have thought that the tenth level, once considered a mysterious and inaccessible place, would turn into such a sought-after locale, a prime piece of real estate within the dungeon?” Moreover, John noticed various distinct factions lingering nearby, some dressed in the worn leather armor of adventurers, others in the fine silks of merchants, and still others in the plain clothes of commoners. They were all united by a single common goal: to discover who would be granted access to the magnificent tree-like palace, to witness the arrival of its new resident.

John walked towards the tree-like structure, his footsteps echoing slightly on the stone ground. He was alone now; the crowd having dispersed after his harsh but necessary lesson. All eyes, however, remained fixed on him, watching his every move with a mixture of fear, awe, and curiosity. Suddenly, a very loud bell rang out, a deep, resonant chime that seemed to vibrate through the very foundations of the dungeon floor. It rang throughout the entire tenth level, echoing off the walls and reaching even the furthest corners. To the onlookers, those who had dared to remain at a safe distance, it felt as if the dungeon itself was greeting an old friend, welcoming a familiar and respected presence. The massive, tree-like structure began to shake, a slow, deliberate tremor that ran through its entire form. Then, as if in response to the bell’s chime, all the leaves on the tree, countless in number, detached themselves from the branches and began to fall from the sky. They didn’t simply plummet to the ground; they descended slowly, gently, twirling and swirling in the air as they made their almost heavenly descent towards the earth. As they fell, the leaves began to swirl together, drawn to a single point in the air. They coalesced, merging and reforming, until they finally came together, solidifying into the form of a girl. She had glowing white skin, radiating a soft, ethereal light. Long, flowing green hair, sharp and pointed like thorns, cascaded down her back, creating a striking contrast with her luminous skin. But the most striking feature, the one that immediately caught John’s attention, was her eyes. They were exactly like his own, the same piercing intensity, the same unusual shape, but instead of green with blue patterns, hers were blue with a vibrant green circuitry pattern swirling within them, like tiny veins of emerald light. She was wearing a flowing white garment that shimmered and moved as if it were made of floating clouds, constantly shifting and reforming its shape. The contrast between her ethereal white attire and John’s stark black outfit, which looked like flowing shadows, was sharp and dramatic, a visual representation of their opposing natures. John knew instantly that it was Max, appearing in the physical form he had envisioned for her. She had talked to him before about the possibility of creating guards for him, and during those conversations, John had come up with the idea of how she could form a temporary body using a combination of spirit energy and nanomachines, a vessel that could interact with the physical world.

“It’s so wonderful to finally see you in the flesh, Max,” John declared, a genuine warmth in his voice as he reached out and wrapped Max in a heartfelt embrace. The contrast between their forms, her glowing white and his deep black, created a striking yin-yang shape, a visual representation of their opposing but complementary natures, signifying the deeper meaning of their unity, the balance they brought to each other. Together, they walked towards the massive, tree-like structure, their footsteps echoing softly on the ground. As they approached, the front of the tree began to shift and change, the bark splitting open as if a hidden door was being revealed. The opening widened, resembling a cascading waterfall of wood and light, parting down the center to reveal the interior. Inside, two magnificent throne-like seats, carved from the same wood as the tree itself, beckoned them, inviting them to enter. As they stepped inside, crossing the threshold into their new home, the tree closed seamlessly behind them, the two halves of the bark merging back together without a sound or a visible seam. The sudden closure left the spectators outside in awe of the spectacle they had just witnessed, a collective gasp rippling through the crowd. The moment the tree sealed shut, the surroundings erupted in a burst of activity, with people rushing forward, trying to get a closer look at the now-closed entrance, whispering excitedly to each other about what they had just seen. However, John paid no heed to the commotion outside, his attention completely captivated by the interior of the tree. His gaze was fixed not on Max, who stood beside him, but on the structure before him—the elegant steps emerging from the tree’s side, spiraling upwards in a majestic ascent, disappearing into the upper reaches of the palace. The steps themselves seemed to be carved from a single piece of wood, polished to a gleaming sheen, and illuminated by soft, ethereal light that emanated from unseen sources. The sight of the spiraling staircase, disappearing into the unknown levels above, overwhelmed John’s thoughts, filling him with a sense of awe and wonder. Questions about the cost of such a magnificent structure, about the resources and magic required to create such a place, briefly surfaced in his mind. But he quickly dismissed them, pushing those practical concerns aside. He chose instead to simply relish the moment, to bask in the sense of safety and tranquility that permeated the air within the tree, a perfect sanctuary, a perfect place for his cultivation, a place where he could finally focus on his own growth and development without any distractions.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

John settled into one of the throne-like seats, the smooth, polished wood cool against his skin. Turning his attention to Max, he made a request. “Max, do we have any more beast cores available? And also,” he added, a thought occurring to him, “have we received any mana stones as payment for the dungeon’s services? I’d like to try using one, to see what they’re capable of.” “Sure, John,” Max replied instantly, her voice clear and efficient. With a flick of her wrist, two level three beast cores materialized in her hand, glowing with a faint inner light. She then produced five mana stones, each one pulsating with a soft, rhythmic energy. “Here you go,” she said, offering them to him. Just as John reached out to take the offered items, a youthful male voice echoed through the room, startling him slightly. The voice was light and high-pitched, almost like that of a child, but it carried a strange weight of ancient power. John couldn’t pinpoint the source of the voice, but he instinctively knew, deep down in his soul, that it was the dungeon speaking directly to him. “I really want to thank you again for your help,” the voice said, its tone filled with genuine gratitude and earnestness. “You’ve done so much for us, for everyone within these walls.” The voice paused for a moment, as if gathering its thoughts. “We only have a few days left before the new song’s release,” the dungeon continued, “so why not take this time to train and familiarize yourself with this place, to truly make it your own? I believe,” the voice added, its tone becoming slightly more persuasive, “that if you choose to cultivate here, within the tree, you’ll progress much faster, much more efficiently, than in any other area on the tenth floor. The mana density within the cultivation rooms, specifically, has been significantly increased for you, a small token of my appreciation.” The dungeon paused again, then added in a slightly lower, more confidential tone, “Also, when you eventually reach the higher floors, the truly dangerous levels, I’d really appreciate your assistance, your strength and your experience. But” the voice quickly added, as if not wanting to pressure him, “we can discuss that in more detail once you’re strong enough, once you’ve reached your full potential.”

John felt an instinctive urge, a deep-seated need, to fortify his physical body, recognizing it as the fundamental cornerstone of all his endeavors, the foundation upon which everything else was built. Without a strong and resilient body, his spirit and his mind could not reach their full potential. He reached into his pouch and retrieved one of the level three beast cores, holding it for a moment before consuming it. The moment it passed his lips and landed in his stomach, an intense heat erupted within him, like a small sun had ignited in his gut. The heat spread quickly, radiating outwards in waves, causing him to gasp slightly. He then began to consciously channel the raw energy released by the beast core, guiding it through his body, allowing it to circulate freely, without any artificial constraints or restrictions. John understood, through years of dedicated practice and study, that in the delicate and intricate process of bodily cultivation, it was absolutely crucial to trust the body’s innate wisdom, its inherent understanding of its own needs, to optimally distribute the newfound energy. The body, in its infinite complexity, inherently knew precisely what it needed, where the energy was most required, and how best to utilize it. It was often the mind, with its constant stream of thoughts and worries, that complicated matters, interfering with the body’s natural processes. However, with his mind now tranquil and focused, honed by countless hours of meditation, John was able to completely defer to his body’s natural intelligence, allowing it to take the lead, to guide the flow of energy. He had deduced, through careful observation and experimentation, that the optimal sequence for reinforcing his body, for maximizing the benefits of the beast core’s energy, was to start with the blood, the very life force that flowed through his veins, nourishing every cell. From there, the energy would naturally progress to the skin, strengthening its defenses, making it more resilient to physical damage. Then, it would move deeper, into the muscles, reinforcing their fibers, increasing his strength and power. After the muscles, the energy would flow to the bones, hardening them, making them denser and more resistant to fractures. Finally, the energy would reach the organs, the vital core of his being, strengthening them, fortifying them from within.

As the energy from the beast core surged through him, John could distinctly sense his skin becoming tougher, more resilient, almost reaching its current limit, the point beyond which it could not naturally improve without further cultivation. Satisfied with this initial improvement, he withdrew one of the mana stones from his pouch, its smooth surface cool against his fingertips. He shut his eyes, focusing his mind, and began to consciously channel the energy contained within the stone. The sensation was unlike anything he had experienced before. It didn’t feel like the energy was directly entering his body, nor did it feel like it was affecting the passage of time in any tangible way. Instead, it seemed to fill an unknown void within him, a space he hadn’t even been aware of before. Yet, despite its intangible nature, the sensation was profoundly buoyant, uplifting, as if a weight had been lifted from his very being. He absorbed five stones consecutively, one after the other, and with each one, the rejuvenation he felt was amplified, becoming more and more intense. It was as if the mana stones were not just healing his physical body, but mending something deeper, something within his very soul, repairing unseen wounds and restoring a sense of wholeness. His thoughts then shifted to the arcane and complex art of time magic, a field of magic he had only recently begun to explore. Observing the clock’s hands as they whirled around the clock face, a tangible representation of the passage of time, he entered a state of deep cultivation, focusing his mind and drawing upon the subtle energies that governed the flow of time. Within his cultivated state, time stretched infinitely, expanding outwards in all directions, becoming almost meaningless. And yet, paradoxically, it also seemed to halt completely, as if the very flow of time had frozen in place. What felt like an eternity to John was, in reality, a mere few seconds in the outside world. With this focused practice, John realized with a growing sense of understanding that as his power expanded, as he grew stronger and more attuned to the flow of magic, his perception of time would inevitably decelerate, allowing him to perceive and react to events at a speed that would be impossible for others. John then took the last remaining beast core from his pouch, holding it tightly in his hand for a moment, gathering his focus and preparing himself for the next stage of his cultivation. He consumed the core, feeling the familiar surge of heat within his stomach, and began to channel the energy once more, this time focusing on breaking through the current limitations of his body cultivation. Max, observing John’s rapid progress, his intense focus, and the subtle shifts in the energy around him, understood what was happening. She was aware that he had metaphorically returned to fishing, casting his line into the waters of cultivation, patiently waiting for a bite. The inhabitants of the dungeon, those unseen forces that governed its workings, were keenly watching the lure on the water’s surface, metaphorically speaking, waiting to see what John would catch. Now, Max knew, all John needed to do was wait for a bite, for the moment of breakthrough, which shouldn’t take much longer. There were plenty of “fish,” plenty of opportunities for growth and advancement, ready to be reeled in, just waiting for him to make his move.