Four types of dungeons existed, each built by the four types of monsters, the Mockeries, the Undead, the Demons, and the Abominations.

The Mockeries, monsters in the perverted form of the Enlightened Races, constructed their structures around their dungeon hearts. The Undead lacked a survival instinct and suffered decayed recollections, so they inhabited derelict ruins. Demon dungeons rarely existed. They required someone to build it in their stead, as they were parasitic and incorporeal.

Finally, Abominations demonstrated alien practices. None organic acted with a humanoid form, or, if they did, they were not organic. Their dungeons reflected their disposition.

"So, the most useful ingredients are sourced from abominations?"

"Well, useful in an alchemical sense," Duan explained to Walter, "If you can, seek out mimics. Something interesting ordinarily springs from their bellies. You could get rich."

Rebecca listened in as the party marched the well-worn path to the dungeon. Duan and Walter invariably talked on the march, ever since Walter asked about his favorite subject, druid spiritualism.

How can you not know all of this?

I mean, I didn't know Duan believed the world existed before the gods, but I didn't care, either, and it doesn't matter.

"I'll keep that in mind. You mentioned earlier monsters didn't stray from their dungeons, right?"

"Yep."

"Then what about the roaming goblin tribes?"

"What about them?" Duan asked after he shifted Walter's supplier pack onto his other shoulder.

"I mean, how do they create more of themselves?"

"The usual way, I'd imagine, making little goblin kids."

"Wait," Walter's voice broke, "They don't kidnap women to do that, do they?"

Elin stopped mid-march, lowered her head, and, after an exasperated exhale, said, "Of all the things."

"What could you possibly be thinking about, Walter?" Rebecca demanded.

"Nothing! I just thought, since there are no female goblins--"

"You don't see the females because they don't come out of hiding! We're not even the same species, you jackass, why would you think we could birth goblins?!"

It's hard not to feel sorry for Elin right now, putting up with this deviant.

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Loneliness crushed Rebecca's spirit at the Mage's University. Day after day, she attended lectures and performed the required practices. When the official study ended, she slinked off to the library to read. She convinced herself it was about learning and not hiding. No one talked to her. She harbored no fears of being singled out at the guild, but rejection is what she avoided.

At the farm, no one contested my status as the prettiest girl. Yes, it might have brought me misfortune, but it's because those women were vain. It's proof I'm better. They might have been faking it, but at least they interacted.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

University taught her some hard truths. She was not the most beautiful, and the politeness and smiles she once enjoyed shifted to callous indifference. What's worse, no one expected much from her. Women blessed with heroic looks also enjoyed an abundance of power. The two were independent but went hand-in-hand.

One of her female professors explained it to her, "You're not ugly, you are good looking, but you have to learn to present yourself. You hide all the time because you're afraid someone will take advantage of you. I'm telling you, if you hide it, men will take it, but if you properly represent yourself, it'll filter them. You don't see men tearing down works of art because they admire them, do you?"

Under her professor's tutelage, Rebecca learned how much damage she could do.

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Walter knocked on the resin at the dungeon's maw. "Huh, I expected an archway or stairs."

The hole that served as the dungeon's entrance was oval.

"How would they build them?" Erik asked, "No hands and no feet. The slimes probably dissolved what was in the way and left behind that secretion."

"So, it's more of a hive than a structure?"

"That's an apt way to describe this one," Adem said.

"Here you go," Duan grinned as he passed off Walter's supplier pack, "You're welcome, but I need to be light to fight."

"Be careful of the flooring," Erik pulled out his short sword, "No one accuses slimes of being excellent builders. Keep in mind there will be traps. The abominations will use their bodies to make them."

"Let's keep the chit-chat to a minimum," Adam tapped his shield with his mace.

Why are you ignoring me?

Progression into the Abomination dungeon went much slower than usual. The floors rolled and dipped, creating hard-to-see shallow potholes. Travel dictated caution, especially from the vanguard, who wanted steady footing to fight on. The resin itself diffused light from the entrance, and it permeated quite a ways inside, so Adem didn't order Duan to light his lantern.

One of the mounds on the floor started shaking and then hopped. Erik, unseen from ahead, swore. His shortsword cut the midsized slime in half, and he shimmered like a mirage from his [Invsibility].

Both halves of the slime rolled to the side, like a fruitcake, and constricted in a death throe. Exposing the interior of the monster seemed to kill it.

"I think they can see me," Erik whispered to Adem.

"The ones at the capital didn't."

Erik shrugged, "Well, that's there, this is here. Do we press on?"

Adem nodded and sent Erik to the back with Duan.

They proceeded into the dungeon with Adem advancing on mounds, waiting for them to expose themselves, and Elin ending them.

"You don't think slimes attach to the ceiling, do you?"

Walter called out so suddenly and loudly that Rebecca nearly jumped out of her shoes.

"Don't do that!" she hissed.

Elin made eye-contact with Walter, squinted ahead, and then pointed at an irregularity on the ceiling.

"I don't like that," Adem grumbled, "The guild didn't have information about it. If it had attached to my face, then I would have been in real trouble. I'm calling it here. We have enough parts to make up for the expenses of the day."

"Wait, we do?" Walter whispered.

Rebecca nodded, "Slimes are good money. The Alchemist's Guild buys them at good prices since their bodies are essentially a sack of useful chemicals."

"Then why doesn't everyone kill them?"

"There's a priority waiting list."

A beat of silence went between them. Walter said, "You never cast any spells."

"What do you mean by that exactly? Why? Are you curious?"

"A little."

Ah, I finally got your attention again.

Rebecca removed her pointed hat and ran her fingers through her hair, another practiced move. Her bosom raised higher. Now that I think about it, all my flirts are about shoving my breasts forward. "Have you never seen a mage cast a spell? You get what you're asking of me, right?"

"Uh," Walter floundered, "No, not really."

"Promise to take care of me after, and I'll think about it."

His face paled, and her ego soared.

I win, dog-paladin. He doesn't make this face with you.

Realization dawned on her.

He looked through her, at something possibly outside the dungeon.

"They're coming!"