I am in grave danger. But I am keeping the skylight.

My metaphorical neck is under the blade here and I can't spend any more, I've made two of the biggest tunnels I can, an absolutely awe inspiring room filled with everything I could summon. I've even tried upgrading my core, making an official core room under my original room (which now calls itself an entrance), complete with hidden tunnel switchback under my first tunnel, all just to spend the mana.

The box of hell says I can't claim the expedition rewards from the deep down dark below separately like it's worked for the surface ones, I suspect because my mana formed a sort of forward base down there. So instead to work off my surplus I have been doing decorating, specifically advancing and then using every stage of technology I can, entrance is still roots and dirt though. Keeps me sane.

---

Beatrice carried her former companion on her back, light as he was even in his full gear it slowed her party to hike with him on her back. The mountains at the edge of the world were known for their strange and hyperactive creatures. Not always monsters but almost always dangerous so when the party mage pointed out a strong mana signature the consensus was a it's a dungeon or their bounty.

Stomping along for hours against the morning fog was not her idea of grieving at the best or times. So far though, dealing with magical squirrels, spell slinging deer and ethereal wolves looked to be all the grief anyone was getting in till they found a place to bury their friend. To that end the dungeon would have its first corpse.

Looking down the last stretch of proper mountain slope she felt the mana, sort of a prickling at her nose, deep in her sinuses, and it was exhilarating. Down where the foothills started rolling up against each other with random boulders laying around there was a hole. The kind of hole you refuse to trust, not because of where but because of what was around it, or lack thereof.

Not a single tree for about 50 meters. Just grass, not even thistles or flowers.

"What we looking at Massa" She asked as she passed the party mage, taking point.

"A pain in the ass, that's just a straight hole, sure there might be dungeon in there but its just not an entrance" he told her back, sounding breathless.

For his part he was holding up well, with the lack of sleep and the mourning she half expected the preservation spell to give out or him to collapse. The frail mage was a little testy to work with most of the time, having questionable reserves of mana and stamina but he held the lion's share of damage potential. He did absolutely eat the most food and rest the most insecurely now though.

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To spite his shortcomings Massa could heal like none other, surviving crap no one has any right to. Rumors had it that his family was well off but refused some lord or passing knight and he ended up delving to put food in his belly.

With Massa occupied the party had their hands full just dealing with wolves where they use to have a man with six floating swords and a boom mage.

She lead the rest of the way down and stopped just before the hole, waiting for their support/utility fighter to catch up from collecting their dinner. He came running from the tree line with a bundle of logs and something angry following him.

Before anyone else could really do much he dropped the logs as a stag came stomping after him, intent on running the human through for some transgression before it and everyone else found out what the logs were for and why Georgo was grinning so big.

Two logs spread out to make a base for the third, when that third was stepped on the deer was almost gutted from the force of it springing up. Watching it fly up over Georgo in a beautiful, cathartic arch and land headfirst with a crunch was satisfying.

So many stags had pestered them from range getting here, taking ages to track down or pushing them against bad terrain. It was lovely to see one finally provoked enough to give chase and get punished.

"Work of art, as always Jo" The assassin and 'make this one thing dead now' person of the group called back, turning to go help retrieve the meat they'd be using for the next three nights.

She had her crossbow and a rapier with some limited magic used for enchanted bolts and fancy sword stuff. She couldn't hold her own against numbers but no amount of armor saves your midsection from a category 3 explosion. That was absolutely the only reason she wore a wide brim felt hat and 2 sizes too large raincoat, no other reason at all.

---

The box requests I spawn monsters, bah, I have better things to to, monstrous squirrels weasels and field mice are nothing next to the damning budget I have to spend. The decorations are getting to masoned stonework and critters offer a potential out.

[Please pick a monster type: tree crab, legged fish, shell mouse, woodland giant octopus, weasel warrior, squirrel raider]

Begone box, I have more important things to do.

Secondly, my hole in the roof is just ripe for exploitation, I could retreat from it and call it an entrance but I have a better idea. An idea the system seems intent to thwart me on. But I insist, thus planning.

I shall make a vast hellscape of craters and obstacles as a ring around me, populate it with land mines and trenches and have two types of monsters constantly fighting. I cant spawn two types of monsters, or more accurately unlock two without spawning the one first. The room shaping system balks at me putting them on the surface to widen the dungeon room into an open top pancake. There are no mines, just runic spells that trigger on step.

And the routing system doesn't like the idea of circles.