A stabbing pain jolted through my core, and my vision faded and whisked away to an endless dark void. Space surrounded me. Daunting in its endless expanse. Stars formed in the distance, dancing before my eyes and settling into a myriad of constellations that twinkled merrily in the endless void.
Three constellations neared. A sword composed of five inline stars. A kite shield with seven. A four-sided star with two of the edges upraised. Their luminescence lit the void, overshadowing the other stars in the background until the three were all I could see.
The stars glittered. First one star in the shield grew brighter, then dimmed as the topmost light in the star blinded me. Then the sword. Then back to the shield. The pulsing accelerated, until all three constellations were flashing in synchrony.
Pained, and confused, I barely noticed the constellations shift in space until they aligned with each other in a single tangled mess of stars. No clear shape was present in this new fused constellation. Just an amorphous blob of flickering starlight.
Deep in my gut, I felt a premonition. The stars abhorred this asymmetry. They shuddered, some stars going dark as others brightened and shoved their neighbors aside. Slowly, a shape took hold. Of a bottle, or vessel with a singular crack down its center.
Unstable Fusion:
Enchant an unenchanted item with damage or resistance
+1 to maximum gear slots
Crafted items of your tier degrade after 100 minutes
100 minute cooldown
I shuddered as my perception returned.
My dungeon was calm. Nothic stalked through the dark maze and my Treants grumbled as they repaired the last of the burnt forest in the dark of the night. The wind blew, rustling leaves and bringing with it the fresh scent of flowers and the crisp tang of moonlight shadows.
What the hell?
Another skill had been altered inexplicably. Of the three skills offered, Unstable Fusion was none of them, yet somehow a mix of all three. It allowed for the enchanting of items with damage or resistance and granted me an additional gear slot. The only difference was that the cooldown had doubled, and a dubious additional line of intent had been added.
The whole dream sequence with the stars was obvious in retrospect, but what confused me was the purpose of it all. I didn’t have a choice in my skills in the first place so offering me three random skills, then randomly changing them seemed pointless. Something wasn’t adding up. Contrary to my initial belief, there must be some sort of hidden selection process that I was not privy to.
Or at least only partially privy to.
Whatever. I would deal with this later. For now, I had way too much to do.
First things first, figure out the extent of the downside inherent to Unstable Fusion. Did it degrade all items I crafted of my tier, or did it only degrade items of my tier that I enchant with the skill?
I quickly crafted two daggers out of shadow. Both were at level ten and then enchanted the first one with physical resistance.
< You have crafted < Weapon > >
Weapon
Level 10
+41 life
< You have crafted < Weapon > >
Weapon
Level 10
+45 life
+26% physical resistance
The skill went on cooldown and I examined the item. Enchanted items had a very faint blue sheen that attracted my cilia, similar but opposite to how souls interacted with them. The effect was minuscule compared to the effect a soul had on my domain, and I had no trouble pushing past it to lift the item. It did spark some concern for me, though. Given what I knew about souls and mana, I likely collected mana from the enchanted item, and — given its lack of any recovery mechanisms — it would likely degrade after heavy use within my domain.
I then equipped the enchanted dagger and spun my perception out to my Treants caring for the grove of five enhanced trees. I had placed a Totem of the Roller Turtle in the center of the grove so the Treants would have the maximum possible resistance.
Treant
Level: 10
Level Acquired: 8
Life: 512/512
Resistances: 75% physical; 55% mental; 50% to all; 10% fire
Bash: 49-100 Physical Damage
Nurture Flora: 12-25 life restored
Vine Strike: 21-44 Physical Damage
Well, that answered that question. Instead of eighty-one percent physical resistance, my Treants only had seventy-five. So there was a hard cap on how much resistance could be acquired through items. That made sense considering that if I replaced the Dagger of Geas — which only granted 5% physical damage reduction — with another level ten crafted item, my creatures would be effectively immortal to physical damage.
Just then, both daggers melted into pools of shadows and my Treant’s stats dropped back down.
So Unstable Fusion applied to all items I crafted of my tier, not just items I enchant. That was...a bummer. I would still be able to use top-tier items in case of emergency but I would be sacrificing my ability to enchant anything in the meantime. For day-to-day use I would have to stick with tier-one items, since there were many things I wanted to enchant.
I crafted another shadow dagger and enchanted it with physical damage this time.
Weapon
Level 10
+43 life
+10 physical damage
My standard Nothic did 58 to 119 physical damage with their primary attack. On average, they dealt eighty-eight point five points of damage with each hit, so equipping the dagger would increase their damage output by slightly more than ten percent. That was a small but solid upgrade. I wouldn't equip that though, because a twenty odd percent bonus to resistance was more effective at this point in time. Especially since none of my minions were resistance-capped.
I crafted several daggers until I created one with the maximum roll for a level seven item, then enchanted it with fire resistance to shore up my Treant’s primary weakness.
< You have crafted < Weapon > >
Weapon
Level 7
+31 life
+19% fire resistance
Weaker, but not by a whole lot. The gap would grow as I neared the end of the second tier, but once I got to level fifteen, I would be able to equip a level fourteen item permanently.
I lined up several other level seven items I would enchant with other resistances once the cooldown of Unstable Fusion reset. The guards’ attacks appeared to deal physical damage, and I was excited to see how they would deal with an enemy with capped resistance against their damage type.
Just then my attention was grabbed by a scout flitting through the edges of my domain. There were a pair of them who had been circling around since the primary group had left. As far as I could tell, they were mapping out the edges of my domain, which seemed sort of pointless to me. I was more than capable of expanding — or even retracting — at the drop of a hat so figuring out where my domain currently was seemed like a waste of effort.
I wasn’t complaining though, as their constant movement in and out of my cilia had collected enough mana to level up again.
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
< Mana 1,369/1,369 >
< You have leveled up! >
< You are now level 11! >
< Mana 0/1,657 >
To Dust:
+4 to maximum creature count
Minions summon a hostile [Sacrificial Stone Golem] of the same level on death
Fragile Reconstruction:
+3 to maximum creature count
Minions gain [Reckless Recovery]
Voidcaller's Lament:
+2 to maximum creature count
Minions grant all other minions +1% to life and all resistances for 200 minutes on death
The options this time once again related to minions, which was nice. I liked the upgrades that increased my creature count the most as they felt like they had the greatest immediate impact. Once again there was the pattern of two, three, and four increase to the maximum creature count with a single additional effect related to each upgrade.
To Dust would make it so that my creatures would have a second life of sorts. A scan of my bestiary revealed that Sacrificial Stone Golems were rock golems that crumbled after some time. The bestiary had a single line suggesting that the duration of a stone golem's life was proportional to its level, though they were rare enough that no one had ever studied the creatures.
Fragile Reconstruction provided [Reckless Recovery] to my minions. The bestiary listed that as a skill that recovered health at the cost of resistances. 1% fewer resistances per 1% of life healed, and the reduced resistances would recover after several hours. The skill was instant with no cooldown and thus labeled as tier zero, but the book warned of its use as it enabled one-shots. I liked the skill as it would finally allow my minions to heal up, but weirdly allowed them to have a second — much more fragile — life like [To Dust].
The last skill had a different purpose. Voidcaller’s Lament seemed like a great horde skill of sorts. It would make it nearly impossible to blitz through my dungeon as the faster adventurers progressed, the more monsters they killed and the tougher all future monsters would get. On the other hand, if adventurers took my dungeon slowly, then Monstrous Generosity would kick in and make it difficult to progress. In that eventuality, Voidcaller’s Lament wouldn’t stack very high, but would passively increase the strength of my minions for the duration of the delve.
As appealing as Voidcaller’s Lament was, it clearly favored many minions to fuel its bonus. At ten minions max, the largest effect Voidcaller’s Lament could possible provide was a 19% increase to life and resistance to my final boss. Which would increase my Beholder’s life from around 500 to around 600. A solid increase but definitely not the same as spawning a whole new monster or giving the power to heal. Eventually, once I had many floors to fuel Voidcaller’s Lament, it would be superior to the other two, but I would have to get there first.
I dismissed the interface thoughtfully, planning how I would use each option should it come up then turned to my next task.
Pacify the adventurers before the sun comes up.
----------------------------------------
“Three queens! Suck it!” Christina crowed, tossing her hand onto the quilt.
Around her, three other members of her squad hunched over a small green lightstone that struggled to keep the darkness of the night at bay. They had just returned from their delve into the dungeon’s first floor, and were now hurrying up and waiting for their next operation.
“Full house,” Rance smugly leaned back as he flicked his wrist to show the others his hand. A collective of cheers rose from the others as Christina groaned and pushed a pile of small coins toward her subordinate.
“Interested in another round,” He collected the pile and waggled his eyebrows at her.
“Ehh,” Christina shrugged. “I think you’ll clean me of house and home if we continue.”
“Aww, you scared?”
“You wish,” Christina scoffed. She got up and dusted off her knees when Criel — another guard in her troop — ran up with a panicked expression on his youthful face.
“Lieutenant!” Criel hissed out in a stage whisper, gesturing to his shoulder which was auspiciously missing any form of identification. “My SSI’s gone!”
Christina furrowed her brow in concern. “Since when’d you lose it?”
“I don’t know, I had it this morning. It must have fallen off during the battle with the Treants!”
Just then a horn sounded out three mournful bursts from the command tent. Every Guard in the vicinity snapped their gaze to the tent, then relaxed when they recognized the signal.
“Alright, there’s an officer meeting now,” Christina said. “Take mine for now. The captain won’t chew me out as bad for not having one.”
She drew her dagger and — with several careful cuts — removed the insignia of a rearing horse from her shoulder. She gave the patch to Criel with an admonishment to sew it on more securely next time, then jogged over to the command tent and slipped inside.
Within the tent, Captain Arcturus stood over a folding table displaying a rough map recently created by the scouts of the nearby dungeon. At his side, Miranda languished on the only chair in the room, somehow making the rickety camp stool appear as comfortable as a plush couch. Two other guards — both lieutenants of the second and third squads respectively — stood at attention before Arcturus and his map. Without missing a beat, Christina joined them, saluted, and settled into parade rest.
“Good of you to join us, Christina. Where is your SSI?” Arcturus nodded at her gruffly.
“It fell off during the battle, sir. I was on my way to replace it when the horn called.”
“See that you do,” Arcturus said as he turned to the map. “I called for a meeting to discuss the dungeon. Rita, your thoughts.”
“The dungeon has intelligent monsters capable of ambush, and tactics, sir.” The middle-aged lieutenant with a smattering of gray hairs in her severe bun nodded. “Despite having superior combat strength, we suffered unacceptable losses against monsters four levels below our own. Despite Treant’s being relatively weak combatants, their tactics and the environment make for a dangerous combination.”
“I see,” Arcturus scratched at his chin. “What would you do with the core?”
“Destroy it, sir. The dungeon is too dangerous as a training ground, and we have several promising recruits who have been waiting for a tier upgrade within our ranks alone.”
“Armen?” Arcturus turned to the bearded lieutenant responsible for the second squad.
“Great uh strategic resource, sir,” Armen nodded. “But, I’m worried for the surroundin’s sir. With the dungeon expanding outwurds, it ain’t gunna be long ‘fore it’ll be within spittin’ distance of Krimta. I think with the danger involved, I’d uh guesstimate command’ll want us to leash the core ‘fore they make a decision on their lonesome.”
“I see...And your thoughts on delving to the core?”
“Eh,” Armen shrugged. “Sounded like a kill floor from the Lady’s report, but me men can handle it. ‘Specially if the monsters don’t go fer killing blows. With you and Lady Mier in the lead, we can do it.”
Captain Arcturus hummed in response and scribbled a note on the map.
“I would first like to entreaty with the dungeon before you children go about assuming what your commanding officers would or would not do.” Miranda casually uncrossed and recrossed her legs. “I have a great need to maintain an easy line of communication with the dungeon as the clarity on my daughter’s tier elevation is rather dismal at the moment. I trust I don’t need to remind you of the difficulties in forming stable relations with a dungeon once it has been shackled.”
“Aye, milady, but this here dungeon ain’t got a Fairy in the first place,” Armen said. “Even if ye wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to communicate with it on where it’s gunna expand.”
“Do you doubt my word, boy?” Miranda’s brow raised in amusement as if the very thought was ridiculous.
“No milady.”
“I see,” Arcturus said. “Is it correct that you are opposed to delving into the dungeon, Lady Mier?”
“Oh, do call me Miranda, dear. Though I suppose a more apt description would be that I believe I shall make an attempt at discovery before I endorse any mission to the core.”
“Christina, anything to add?”
“No sir, though I feel we should form a picket around the dungeon’s current domain with warning signs for civilians. I have an uncle who hunts in these woods.”
“Noted,” Arcturus said, jotting another illegible note down on the corner of the map. “While tactical enemies are a challenge, our near defeat today proves the need for such a training ground. The anomalous monsters of this dungeon are an invaluable resource that I will not squander due to fear. First squad will form a perimeter around the dungeon, while I take second squad to train against the Treants. Rita, you will take your squad and assist Lady Mier in whatever she requires. You are not to enter the cave system or approach the core under any circumstances. You are all to minimize the use of skills. Understood?”
“Understood, sir,” Armen and Rita saluted.
“With all due respect sir,” Christina said. “I believe you are making a mistake. The goddess would cry if Krimta fell to greed.”
“We exist in the realm of mortals, Christina. I am not responsible for the goddess, and will not have my men enter dungeons unprepared when an alternative exists.”
“I have family in Krimta, sir.”
“Are your orders clear?” Captain Arcturus said.
“Yes, sir.” Christina bowed her head, biting her lip in frustration.
“Good. Dismissed.” Arcturus waved his hand, but then gestured at Miranda. “Lady Mier, if you would?”
Christina ducked out of the tent, followed shortly after by the other two lieutenants.
“I can’t believe this,” Christina murmured.
“We’ll be fine, Christy.” Rita patted the younger woman on the shoulder.
“Aye, well. You gotta admit the man’s gotta point.” Armen gruffed as he tucked his long beard into his shirt.
“What?” Christina whirled on the big man. “I don’t have to admit to anything. The captain is entreating with a dungeon! Like! What don’t you understand about that?”
“Well—”
“No, have you read the histories? ‘Cause I have. The great Dungeon of Illusions pulled this exact same trick.” Christina scoffed sarcastically. “And you know what nearly a decade of peaceful monster farming gained us? We grew overconfident, and BAM. Out of nowhere, the monsters started killing. Nearly a quarter million souls perished in the resulting dungeon break, and it took the combined efforts of a tier eleven party to stop the horde. I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”
“Aye, the Black Brigad—”
“And that’s not the only event. It’s just one of dozens of worldwide tragedies which all started because people trust dungeons for some inane reason. Guess what have we learned from so much tragedy? Nothing! Absolutely nothing. The Great Goddess Deia tells us dungeons are dangerous. We experience it, so what do we do when another dungeon just happens to pop up right on our doorstep? We entreat with it as if we are the ones who will suffer from this decision.” Christina spat on the ground. “Might as well tell the good citizens of Krimta to bend over.”
Armen chuckled but was cut off by a glare from Rita.
“Orders are orders, Christy.” Rita patted the younger woman on the shoulder. “This dungeon is far from the country spanning strength of the Dungeon of Illusions. There are plenty of strong individuals in Krimta who can protect our home if something goes wrong.”
“Whatever,” Christina shrugged off Rita’s hand and stalked off to her tent. Various members of her squad called out to her to join this game, or help them in some way, but Christina waved them off. Not in the mood.
She kneeled on her bedroll, shoulders hunched to avoid touching the heavy canvas of the tent. She closed her eyes and bowed down until her head was touching the bedroll.
Then she prayed.
“Great Goddess of earth and sky. As but a humble servant of your grand design, I bow to you. Before my very eyes, I see a great tragedy unfolding. A dungeon once more is gaining the trust of the people around me. I ask nothing for myself, but my family does not deserve to suffer the folly of man. I pray you grant us the strength to survive what I fear will come to pass. Amen.”
A whisper of wind pressed against the sheer walls of the tent, bringing with it a hint of flowers. In the distance — so soft it was indiscernible — a child laughed with unrestrained glee, as in the empty space atop Christina’s pillow, a golden choker made of swirling starlight manifested.