Uno
It was chaos.
I tried my best to attend to three places at once - to keep Non contained and not foolishly attacking the invaders, while also preparing her for an operation. At the same time, I was checking on my newly evolved minion, and charting the longears' progress.
While I was certainly capable of some multitasking this was still a bit too much.
[Why can’t I simply be left alone?] A word of complaint escaped my mouth, the only recipients being Non and Guardian. Both didn’t answer, as the former was busy squirming, trying to loosen my ropes and the latter was observing his new pets. Or rather their eggs as not one of the kobolds had hatched yet.
I focused on binding the unruly revenant down, more and more copper tools being prepared to deal with the dangerously pulsating bright thing. That arm of hers was already lost, both flesh and metal devoured up to the shoulder.
The only thing I could do was to cut it all off and dispose of or isolate the corrupted tissue. The only thing that remained looked like a half-translucent, pustule-like growth, which somehow reminded me of jellyfish.
My first choice was to contain it inside a big glass receptacle. I still didn’t know what this weird substance was, but the ability to devour both metal and flesh seemed interesting, if rather dangerous.
This, however, meant that it could be weaponized - maybe in a similar fashion that the person who hurt Non did. Which was a piece of information that I should drag out of her as soon as she became less delirious. On the other hand, if handled improperly the material could very well devour my dungeon…
Bah. No risk, no gain.
Just to be sure I stationed a few of the Ironflame rats nearby, deciding that in the worst-case scenario they were to be used as an impromptu sterilization unit. The good ol’ fire should be enough.
Afterward, a small part of my consciousness was left in the temporary operating theatre, creating tools and ordering minions. Soon I could feel the saw slowly grinding down Non’s flesh. The living metal, her supple muscle, hardy bones - I felt it all. At the same time, I could also tell that my copper tool had to be constantly regenerated if I wanted to shear her body all the way through. Of course, it would take time, but I was anything, but patient.
I turned my attention toward the tunnels where the fight against the sneaky invader took place. My cameras displayed a scene of total carnage. There were scraps of flesh, broken bones, and fur, with headless and armless corpses strewn everywhere… to add insult to injury various Ratlings were thrown about like dolls destroyed by a petulant child.
And blood. Blood everywhere - painting both the ceiling and walls crimson red. Slowly the scene was getting cleaner, my constant devouring of foreign materials starting up now that the sentient was dead. Only the scars and crumbled rock would soon remain as a silent witness to the destruction. The human was dead, his haughty body crumpled like a useless rag - his head torn off the torso by a monstrous force.
My first evolved minion was still nearby, his muscular body breathing heavily. A reaction to winning the fight, or maybe the evolution? Who knew? The system called him Berserker - and he really looked the part.
I observed him for a second. He looked similar to the video game character from… Vermintide, was it? At least I thought so. A rat ogre - I believe that's what the monster was called. The current form of Berserker was certainly similar, but there were also differences. For example, his face had a shorter, more human-like snout with teeth reminiscent of the shark instead of the rat - a few rows of scary fangs, ready to tear the flesh from the bone.
The hands also looked different - the claws were still there, but in a more subdued form, with an ability to wield weapons and perform complicated maneuvers. Not simply weapons, but tools. That said my Regenerator Mutant still had a lot of bestial features, including the overgrown muscle, vicious expression, and green, glowing eyes. And the mane. Yeah - a lion-like mane formed from brown fur, reaching down to his shoulders. At least now it could walk on two feet, which put it at little more than two and a half meters of height.
Savoring the sensation I spoke.
[Analyze.]
Regenerator Mutant
called Berserker
A surprising effect of overusing a never-before-seen magic drug. Its primal form was a simple rat, but after the enforced evolution the final effect is anything but ordinary.
This large, vicious rat humanoid has nearly unlimited ability to regenerate, but unlike its distant cousin, troll, neither fire nor acid will disrupt its function. Instead only destroying both the brain and the heart at the same time will slay the beast.
Some of the magic still remains in the creature’s bones and as such further mutations are possible. Despite becoming a member of a completely different race, Berserker still considers himself a Ratling. As a progenitor of a new species, he has been graced with enhanced intelligence and emotional capacity.
Threat level: B--
Lovely.
A real monster.
I had already decided on a perfect role for him. As indestructible as he was Berserker seemed a perfect fit for the third floor’s Boss position.
Especially if I equipped him right. Some cursed armaments would feel just right. I couldn’t wait to try my hand at kiting him out!
Right now the newly evolved monster was slowly making its way to the battlefield - eager to stop the longears invasion. I was giddily waiting for his arrival, expectantly waiting for both the aggressors' reaction of horror and perspective of quickly approaching carnage. In the meantime, my attention turned toward the second-floor entrance room. I had to make sure that my newest enemies weren’t pushing too hard.
And with this came a surprise.
I did order the Lebirs to hold their ground. To keep the attackers busy with something. Anything. They were expendable, after all.
But…
The forces trying to keep the elves in check were mostly comprised of ordinary Lebirs, a few Lebir Captains, and even fewer Lebir Exploders. Some Ratlings also joined the battle, helping my creatures with both sneak attacks and covering fire.
Normally each of these minions would be doing their thing.
Exploders would be charging.
Lebirs would be charging.
Captains would be charging.
Most of the Ratlings would be charging also.
Yeah…
Pretty much all my creatures would recklessly run to their deaths, catching the defenders' arrows with their faces and squishy parts. Not ideal, right?
And yet this time it seemed like my rats were taking command. That in itself was not a surprise - they were one of my most intelligent creatures, save a few unique beings spread around the floors. What was, however, unexpected was the fact that the undead were actually listening to them.
My Lebirs usually tried to fulfill their orders in the simplest way possible and of course - to the letter, while ignoring anyone or anything trying to distract them from the task. This was their greatest strength and their greatest undoing. And now they simply… stopped doing so?
I was stunned. How did the rats manage to override that trait of the undead?
My shock lasted a few more seconds - until I noticed something else out of ordinary. While most of the Ratlings were simple rank and file, some of them looked different. For one on their heads, they were wearing metal circlets with small, green gems.
What’s more the sensation I felt from them was familiar. And very so. The green aura they radiated… The power so similar to my own… Ah. Crystallized Anima. Of course. The thing that the rat-kind seemed to covet so much. Lebirs would surely listen to somebody who felt just like a smaller, weaker me.
Wait.
Did I just witness the creation of a necromancer caste?
Well, they weren’t able to raise dead, so maybe that was a not entirely accurate description. Ratling dark mages, then?
When I debated how to call this addition to the underground rat empire the Ratlings in question continued the attack. They squeaked orders right and left, pointing their little paws in the direction where the undead were meant to go.
And the Lebirs obeyed, working in small teams to disrupt enemy defenses, jumping from cover to cover like they were on the beaches of Normandy. It was clear that this change came not too long ago because longears were in full panic mode.
“Shoot the blue ones!” Screamed one of the defenders. “They explode!”
“What do you think I’m trying to do? I can’t get a clean shot! They’re being shielded by the other undead!” Answered another with a frustrated tone.
“Princess!”
“I know.” The blonde mage barely grumbled, sending a long sharp beam of light towards the advancing undead. The ones in the front were cut in half, falling on the ground like damaged dolls. It didn’t stop their advance though.
The defenders curled up, expecting an explosion… but nothing happened.
“I-it… didn’t…?” Asked a confused elf.
“What the...?”
“It was a decoy! Keep your eyes peeled!” A spotter shouted, reacting earlier than others.
“A decoy?! How the hell are they learning so fast?”
“Goddess bless us! More are coming!”
Chaotic screams filled the air as one of the Exploders (dyed with ash to hide its color) approached the defense line.
“A blue one!”
“Brace!” A command followed.
“Fuck that! Hide!” The shouts of warning echoed as Minnalea softly spoke to the accompanying human knight with a grumble clearly noticeable in her tone.
“Are you alright, Jake? Another one is coming.”
A grunt of acknowledgment was the man’s only answer as the silent warrior steadied his posture, took a deep breath, and extended the shield once again. I could tell that this wasn’t the first time he did so during this battle. And that it was taking its toll.
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The undead started to run, an electric weapon lighting up in its hand, covering the surroundings in a blue, unearthly light. After a few seconds, the speeding Lebir hit the half-translucent barrier, his body exploding in a blaze of glory.
The chamber shook heavily. A few pieces of dirt fell from the ceiling and another crater was added to the room’s decorations.
The defender’s only response was another grunt, but the shield held still. Still too weak I mouthed bitterly, but my mood instantly improved as I zoomed on Jake’s face. My camera had discovered a speck of blood forming in the corner of his mouth. The man immediately swallowed it down, throwing a quick glance in his master’s direction. Seeing as she was still absorbed in studying the advancing enemies his calm gaze too turned toward the battlefield.
“Where are the reinforcements?” She whispered under her breath, sending another beam of light at my minions.
I didn’t know if it was an effect of her reckless attack or maybe a tactical decision made by the Ratlings, but most of the Electrical Chandeliers had been destroyed, not being able to reappear for as long as the sentients occupied the hall.
My undead, however, could see perfectly in the dark, the Ratlings being not much worse at it. Their enemies - the elves - also seemed to have some semblance of night vision, but it was of a lower quality than the one used by my creations. I judge so mostly because their arrows became devilishly accurate only in a small circle of light remaining around them.
The surrounding darkness stirred and elven soldiers echoed its activity.
“Something’s coming!”
“Prepare your bows!”
“Wounded, get back to the healer!”
“Check your ammo!”
One of the warriors was especially religious - or maybe even a priest - as he started to chant. I stirred, but no magic lights appeared from nothingness. It seemed to be a purely morale-raising tactic.
“Oh, our Goddess! Mirabelle! You who watch over our world! Our eternal Guardian! Patron of the sacred swords! The defender against corruption! Light in the Darkness! Bless us, as we stand in your name, protectors of the Luna kingdom, shields of the sentient races, luminaries of knowledge, servants of peace!” He stopped to take another breath, only to continue his obnoxious preaching in an even louder tone. “Bless us, as we praise your name and cut away the darkness! Oh, our Goddess! Mirabelle!”
A moment of tense silence followed, interrupted only by a few Ratling squeaks. The longears didn’t know it, but orders were given to the Lebirs.
Only a dozen or so invaders remained, not counting the princess and her shield knight. On the other side of the room about thirty undead slowly were getting in formation - the common variety upfront, their square shields at the ready. Behind them, a few of the remaining Captains joined shoulders to cover a single Lebir Exploder, currently being covered in dirt and ash.
The rest of my reinforcements were still coming. Lebirs, Ratlings, the Regenerator Mutant.
Another few nervous minutes passed, both sides preparing for the unavoidable conclusion. I could see the sweat forming on their brows, widely opened eyes scanning the darkness surging with activity. The elves were full of fear, their hearts beating louder and louder as the silence dragged on...
And then a noise came.
One, two.
One, two.
The undead’s feet struck the ground in perfect harmony, like soldiers on a parade.
“A-are they… marching?” Asked one of the elves, his voice strained.
“By the Gods! What is happening here?!”
“Oi, how fast are they learning?”
Soon from the surrounding gloom, a dense mass of Lebirs appeared, their rhythmic march getting on the invaders' nerves.
“I was afraid of this. The Forgotten Dungeon has access to military data.” Minnalea muttered under her nose. “There is no other way, we have to change our attitude. It’s no longer simply a dungeon conquest. No. This is war. The only question is how deep this rabbit hole goes… Did it only find some books, maybe magical aids or…” The princess trembled.” Or did it find a damaged, or, Gods forbid, fully functioning Strategos.” She shook her head, clearing the grim expression. “I will analyze this later. Survival takes priority. For now…” She coughed, her voice growing sharper and louder. “PREPARE YOURSELVES, MEN! FIRST RANK - FIRE! SECOND RANK - READY FOR MELEE COMBAT!”
Her command woke up the remaining elves, their bodies quickly reacting to the orders, even though their minds were still in chaos.
“What is our motto, men?!” She screamed.
“Never again!”
“I didn’t hear you!”
“NEVER AGAIN! WE WILL PURGE THIS DARKNESS!” A vigorous shout answered her.
“EVEN IF!”
“EVEN IF ALL THAT’S LEFT OF US ARE BONES!”
Soon a first volley was sent loose and, in answer to that, the Lebirs were ordered to charge, their once neat formation quickly breaking out. From the gaps Captains with heavier armor and better equipment could be seen trying to get to the front.
Many things could be said about the Lebirs, but there was no coward amongst them.
Then again, do undead even feel fear?
Elven sharpshooters added a few more arrows to the mix before switching to their daggers and knives. With a shout the second line stepped forward, shielding them and clashing with my undead.
The sound of colliding metal and gasps of pain filled the air.
“Give them hell!” Minnalea shouted while cutting down an undead after undead.
Her men followed, suddenly devoid of fear.
The battle raged on.
I could easily infer that in pure skill they were far above my minions, their blades cutting, shearing, tearing Lebirs, breaking their bones. Their reaction speed, coordination, and morale were all top-notch. I even saw one of the frail things kicking the undead Sparta-style, sending the undead tumbling down.
But how do you fight against an opponent who doesn't stop even when you cut off both of his arms?
Who doesn’t tire?
Who doesn’t fear death?
And most importantly who has the numerical advantage… and doesn’t care about the casualties?
“BLUE ONE!” A terrified scream cut through the air as the half-elves spotted my little surprise.
The Lebir Exploder was advancing in the thick of the battle, surrounded by my Captains and a few dark mage Ratlings sitting on their shoulders.
I silently thanked them for their sacrifice.
They will be remembered.
“DEFEND!”
The hoarse order sounded and then, following it, an explosion happened.
*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM*
A monstrous detonation cut through the sentients and undead alike, raising a cloud of dust that filled the entire room. A few moments passed, the sound slowly returning to the chamber.
Yet the sight that greeted me was once again not what I expected.
Two barriers were glinting in the weak light.
A yellowish one created by the shield knight and… a green one?
I gritted my teeth.
It didn’t matter. The barrier meant that the princess survived. That was bad. She seemed to be a force behind this invasion and this ambush failed to eliminate her. I started to hurry up my forces, bent on killing her off before she escaped to the surface.
And then I stopped.
“Your Highness! Are you alright?!” A concerned voice cut the air. I knew that voice. It belonged to the half-elf - Agric Oakbound, the royal aide.
Fuck.
“Your Highness!” He screamed, his large, muscular figure moving cautiously.
“Oh shut up.” A tired voice answered him. The dust settled, showing that - as I thought - Minnalea survived. No serious wounds could be seen on her body either, barring a few scratches. She was currently clutching the kneeling knight's back, the man throwing up large amounts of blood. “I told you to not overextend yourself.” She spoke quietly to the human while ignoring the surroundings. “Why do you always do this, Jake.”
The knight's only answer was a weak smile, followed by another bout of puking out blood.
“Your Highness…” The leader of reinforcements started to speak, suddenly looking much less sure than before. The men behind him - I counted at least fifty - shuffled hesitantly.
“WHAT?” She asked in a sharp tone.
“What are your orders, princess?” He squeezed through his throat. A moment of silence followed. Jake puked out some more blood.
“Kill them.” She answered in a cold tone, not turning her gaze in the slightest. “I WANT ALL OF THEM DEAD.”
“Your wish is my command!” Agric shouted, turned around, and led his team to clear out the chamber. It was clear that he wished to be as far away from the royal princess as humanly possible. Yet he didn’t forget to leave a bunch of guards in the chamber, before going off to fulfill her demands.
Thanks to leaving so eagerly he didn’t notice that Minnalea’s hand was tightened so hard, that it turned white. Jake, however, was able to see it. With a slow and careful motion his gauntleted hand reached for hers and one by one her fingers were pried loose.
Only then did the princess's gaze soften.
“You fool.” She whispered.
All that romance happened while in another part of the chamber, my minions were getting slaughtered. To tell the truth, most of the survivors were Lebir Captains and the dark mage Ratlings. Currently, they were retreating east in a tight formation. One or two lacked limbs and the rats had their share of their own shrapnel wounds (which meant that their shields were completely foolproof), but that didn’t stop them from steadily moving back. All around them heavily damaged Lebirs were doing their best to slow down the attackers.
“What the hell is this?” Asked one of the elves.
“Yeah, are we fighting the dungeon monsters or thrice-cursed mercenaries?!”
“Stop your nagging! Pursue! You heard the princess, didn’t you?”
“As did you.” One of the officers grumbled. “I also heard that another batch of soldiers was sent for.”
“What? But it’s already too much for a dungeon dive.”
“Are you daft?” The man said indignantly. “What part of this massacre looks like a dungeon dive for you?!”
“Bah. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Fool.” The elf summoned an earth spike slamming it against the Ratling’s shield. The poor creature screamed, but the green barrier still held. “See? That’s what a Forgotten Dungeon is capable of. On. The. Second. Floor.”
“They’re running!” A shout cut the conversation short.
Indeed, my minions decided to change their strategy and legged it. I blamed the decision on the Ratlings, as the Lebirs didn’t have any self-preservation instinct to speak of. And yet the pursuing sentients followed right behind them, but their efforts were hindered by a slow drip of Lebir reinforcements.
A few more minutes passed and the escapees left their pursuers in the dust.
I wanted to turn the situation around when another batch of soldiers descended the stairs. This time they were led by Ian Sleekit, the second aide - a delicate looking, but dangerous man.
“My princess.” He bowed. “What are your orders?”
“We go after Agric.” She spoke curtly, her human knight already healed, though still looking a bit pale.
“But… we don’t know if he went in the right direction. Shouldn’t we map the space independently? Isn’t that the standard procedure?” He asked while raising an eyebrow.
“Normally I would agree.” Minnalea nodded, now calm and composed, the earlier murderous rage nowhere to be seen. “But it seems like the dungeon had devoured not only the technology but also… tactics manuals.”
“Are you sure?”
“There is no other explanation.” For a moment the princess’s face contorted. After a brief inner conflict, she sighed and beckoned the man to come closer.
“Princess?” He asked curiously but listened anyway.
“There is a probability that the dungeon has devoured a Strategos.” She whispered into his ear.
“Truly?!”
“Calm yourself!” Minnalea chided the man immediately. “It is only a theory. The changes in its behavior might be also an effect of devouring some magical curio containing the necessary knowledge.”
“Yes. I understand now. We must reinforce Agric immediately! We cannot let the past repeat itself!”
“Yes.” She nodded seriously. “Sure, this is not an insect dungeon, so the consequences should not be so severe, but… it’s good to see you’re not a complete fool, unlike your friend.”
“Ah, Agric can be a musclebound idiot sometimes, but he is like a brother to me.” Ian smiled abashedly, scratching his head.
“I see.” A long sigh followed. “Let’s go then and hope we are not too late.”
“Yes!”
In the other part of my dungeon, the man in question was currently screaming out orders.
“Keep up the ranks! Do not let them surround you!”
“Sir, what are these things?!”
“By the Gods, I don’t know, but they look dangerous!” Agric responded while sweeping the legs from under a Ratling contraption.
If I had to describe what it looked like… ‘an egg with two pointy legs and arms’ would probably be most accurate. In the middle of the said egg, there was a small slit radiating a green glow, but I could also glimpse a sweaty Ratling pulling levers and buttons at a breakneck pace.
I tried to analyze this thing, but the only result I got was that common Ratlings were piloting these… mechs. Were they mechs? I hesitated to use this word. At a height of about fifty centimeters, they swayed like drunks, not capable of moving in a straight line. On the other hand, their steampunk-looking lower limbs were fitted with a mass of gears and transmissions which somehow worked despite being obviously overcomplicated. This contrasted with how the upper arms - I hesitated to use this word - looked. It felt incongruous - they were after all only simple metallic rods with sharpened ends. Did they not have time to finish these machines? Or was it planned to be this way?
Their method of attack was also unsophisticated - simply bashing their armor against the half-elves' knees or trying to pierce them with their arms. After the first moments of confusion, the invaders started to laugh.
“What the hell are these things?” Shouted one of them.
“Aren’t they clumsily cute, when you look closely?” Another added in a relaxed tone.
“Look how they try to keep balance.”
“Haha!”
“Do you think the commander will allow us to take a few of them back home?” Grinned another.
The merry atmosphere continued as my Ratlings tried their best. I felt bad just looking at them.
And then…
The situation changed, the laugh dying in the invaders' throats.
A mini-mecha exploded, killing both the Ratling pilot and the enemy.