The dungeon entrance is situated at an obtrusive section in the dwarven city. Right between a public potty and the remains of a garden, it is unnervingly close to the residential area and a mile away from the closest shopping alley. The reason for the awkward placement of buildings near such a dangerous area where monsters could escape at any time is the frightening fact that dungeons grow ever so slightly every month that after a couple of years a new tunnel might emerge.
The dungeon entrance had been barred by heavy dwarven construction that without a certain measure of strength it will be impossible to open.
A group of ten stepped into the darkness fearfully. Well, not exactly, because there are two girls amongst the group who were excited instead, Princess Relestia and Princess Sparrow. The two have volunteered to protect the eight new recruits that will be exploring the dungeon today.
Perhaps princesses tend to have similar spirits of adventure?
They carefully descended, fully wary of the monsters that might spring out from the shadows, but the scene they saw was unexpected for these amateurs.
Torches that burn monster fats lined up the road ahead. The figures of people could be seen in the light and the familiar sound of merchants made a continuous stream of noise as the group approached.
Two soldiers stood at a bend welcoming them.
“Newcomers?”
Relestia nodded towards them and one of the guards chuckled.
“No need to be surprised to see people here, little miss. There are weapons to repair, hot food to sell, and money to be made.”
“That’s right, and we need to prevent the dwellers from escaping.”
“Dwellers?”
“We call the monsters that spawned in these parts of the dungeon as dwellers,” the soldier said. When he saw Relestia not truly understanding the slang, he decided to explain more to this beautiful young lady.
After all, stationed here there is not much chance for him to impress anyone.
“It seems like you’re not from around here. Well, you must have heard that the dungeons sprawling across the Axis are continuously growing, but did you know what drives their expansion?”
Not waiting for her to reply, he excitedly continued, “Mana! Each region has its own type of mana which forms dungeons and spawns unique creatures. We call ours the dwellers because they are all cavern creatures, but I’ve heard of crawlers, ravagers, skeletons and golem dungeons.”
“The expansion wasn’t because of some powerful person like the elf king?” Relestia asked innocently.
“Nah, don’t be fooled by rumours, missy. The elf king may be a god, but he is not interested in the destruction of us pitiful mortals.”
“A god?!”
Relestia was shocked. She had assumed that term had been used rather leniently instead of having any truth. There are plenty who had a habit of loosely using the word and more than one God-king had appeared in both Gaia and Axis Mundi.
A frightening thought appeared. Could Veritus have descended from the celestial realm? The royal family had records of godlings that fell to the mortal realms in the past. The reasons for doing so are obscure, ancient records claim that it is to get believers for their power of faith, or a pantheon of benevolent gods who protect the mortals, or simply because without mortal recognition some gods will fade away.
Whatever the reason, all the documents claim that most of them will retain a good portion of their power but cannot use it except to preserve their selves. According to the legends, the gods fear a being called the True Lord who holds absolute power over all worlds. Should any of them abuses their strength, they will face a terrible punishment that will turn godlings into dust and white ash.
There are exceptions of course. There are fallen gods who reached the brink of their existence and sought refuge in the mortal realms. Those beings are found after the divine wars or the war to seal the devilkin. In fact, Kairos and his brothers had encountered one before in the Ghost Maw Forest – Enki the mad god who taught them divine arts like the Eternal Empyrean technique.
Relestia had envied such an encounter but never thought to meet another ex-resident of the celestial realm herself.
Whether Veritus is one of the gods who willingly descended or a weakened divinity that crashed on the Axis, Relestia knows that no matter what they must not face him directly.
If the legends are true, these beings can only use their divine power when provoked but weakened or not a single breath of theirs could annihilate any mortal.
In fact, if the condition to use their powers is to preserve themselves, then a wounded god will be far more likely to react… and far deadlier.
The soldier grunted distastefully, “Indeed he is a god. Without a shadow of doubt too, missy. Too many had died to prove it.”
Looks like the Axis does not have many records of gods in the mortal realm, otherwise they would dared carelessly challenge Veritus. He is not someone who would be slain by a couple of teenagers summoned from another world.
Stationed here, the soldiers were starved of conversation and did not mind explaining things to a newcomer. They assumed Relestia to have been holed up at home because of overly protective parents. Heck, if they have such a pretty daughter, they would also be wary of letting her interact with strangers.
Still, they have to collect fees for passage. Rather than profiting, it is used for the soldiers stationed here and to ensure no creature could leave this dungeon alive.
The group stepped past their post into a long narrow passageway. From the looks of it, two men is sufficient to hold back a horde of creatures long enough for reinforcements to arrive.
They continued a good half an hour until the tunnel opened up into what seems like a small town. The main street is busied with merchants peddling monster parts and blacksmiths selling and repairing equipment while the adjacent tunnels are used as residential areas.
Because the monsters do not spawn next to places with human activity, the area is considerably safe.
Noticing the size of this place, Relestia turned around and stared pointedly at the way they came in.
Sparrow anticipated her question, “They narrowed the tunnels artificially. The dungeons will automatically repair any damage to itself, otherwise over the years it would have been collapsed to a manageable size. Destroying it will be impossible, but we can put stuffs there to block certain paths. Of course, if left unmaintained, the creatures that spawn will destroy any obstructions in their way.”
Relestia squinted. She can understand the need to defend here, but with a narrow path back up to the city, few will be able to escape if the monsters overrun this place.
“Why not fortify the place and place more guards?”
Sparrow shook her head sending her hair whipping.
“The dungeons are alive and changes its shape every moment. To have a fort will make the cost and logistics involved almost impossible.”
“But if there is a monster horde, won’t the people here…”
Sparrow sighed, “They can handle most outbreaks, but if not… They know the risks. Hey, we should focus on the most important thing now.”
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“What thing?”
“BEER!” the small dwarven girl roared.
“Oh… okay, I don’t mind a sip,” Relestia chuckled.
There is no doubt that everyone living in this dunk and deary place are risking their lives because there are profits to be made. Instead of worrying, it would be better to participate in the drinking. After all, there is no way to stop a dwarf from her mead and it might actually do the new recruits some good to drink a little.
Their pale faces and trembling are making this exercise look like an execution instead.
The moment the group of ten stepped into a rowdy bar, all eyes fell upon them.
Relestia shivered. She could feel the eyes on her and unease seeped into her heart. The princess felt that she was watched the moment she had entered this place although it was rather mild, but every moment that feeling increased until it peaked when she stepped into this building.
Perhaps the people are curious to see such a ragtag group here. Still, she could not shake off the feeling.
“What’s wrong?” Sparrow asked.
“I don’t know. But let’s not stay too long?”
“You’re feeling something’s wrong?”
The dwarf placed her hand on her mace as her eyes brightened. Brawling is the next best thing to drinking.
“I don’t really know. I just have this feeling that someone is watching us.”
“Hmm, I think everyone is watching us. Don’t worry too much, let’s just drink to it.”
“I-I’ll take a sip but one of us better stay sober.”
“Anything you say, boss,” Sparrow smiled.
The mood lightened somehow, and they all sat around a table. Booze and roasts on sticks were served and Relestia had serious contemplations on whether to take a bite of the meat but on seeing everyone heartily wolfing it down she did not bother to ask if these came from those … dwellers.
*Uwaaa*
Puffing out hot alcoholic breaths, the red-faced Relestia dizzily excused herself. The others, only more drunk than her, did not leave the table.
Relestia who had one sip wobbles over to next door where the inn is. The drink is characteristically strong, since this is dwarf territory, but she is a cultivator with physical aspects exceeding any dwarf. Clearly, she had overestimated her alcohol tolerance because multiplying zero is still zero.
As the princess of Saint Empire almost scoot into a frontal somersault trying to get out of the bar, she stumbles into a child. At that moment, she had a burst of clarity and wanted to apologise for her mistake, but a strange chill overtook her and her skin prickled.
The child, unnaturally quiet, did not seem to mind the bump and continued her way.
When Relestia looked to make sure the child wasn’t hurt, she thought that she saw a freakish smile.
Goosebumps rose on the back of her neck. The words of concern she wanted to say was stuck like a fishbone in her throat.
Something felt wrong since she came here.
The next day, after a major synchronised hangover guild event, the group dragged themselves to the armorer like any sensible dungeon delver would before a dive. The new recruits will need equipment and it is better to know the prices of the monster parts to bring back. Of course, after the exercise, these purchases will be returned to the guild stores and whatever they sold they must give a portion to the guild. Rather than being stingy, the Snowdrifts – and any other guild for this matter – will not freely give new recruits expensive things because the sense of belonging needs time to build up.
As for giving the Snowdrifts a cut from selling the monsters they risked their lives to hunt, none will feel being taken advantaged because no one else will invest in them and rent them weapons. Instead, because the portion they are asked is meagre, they are thankful to be in this dungeon despite being rather frightened.
More importantly, they will not be going deep into the dungeon where the real dangers are, and besides… if a kid and a grandpa is tagging along, it wouldn’t be too perilous, would it?
Not knowing nor caring what they thought, the Snowdrifts need them to have a first-hand learning experience on how to fend for themselves, regardless they are in the combat unit or not. Back in Saint Cadets Academy, that is what is taught to the children and that same policy was adopted by the guild.
The child … well… he is not supposed to be here, but Relestia is terrible at saying no and the kid wanted to come along no matter what. That’s why this trip had changed into a sightseeing dungeon tour instead. Still, they will need to be careful.
When they entered the armourer, they were greeted by a dark room with weapons piled up haphazardly in the corner. Some of the better items are put on the wall, while the armours are fitted on dummies. Of course, there will not be any full suits to be purchased, since those items need to be custom-made to fit, but there are plenty of armour parts like greaves, hand guards, chest plates and helmets that could suit a range of sizes. There are things even for the smallest gnomes.
The shopkeeper who is also the resident blacksmith is a greasy bald dwarf with a hulihee, shaven chin, pouty red lips, and a scar across his right eye. Rather than natural, being bald is a cultural thing for the smiths since the place they work in is blistering hot but combined with his moustache and scar, the dwarf looked like a difficult person.
“Haaaaaaa lowwwwwww my lovelies! What can this humble one do for you today?”
A high-pitched welcome almost broke the glass. Oh, wait, there is no flimsy glass in this place. The storekeeper had experienced a great shattering before, didn’t he?
“I- I wuuu, bit mah tongue…,” said Relestia who stumbled in effort to stifle a bubbling laugh.
“I have that effect on people,” the dwarf noted.
The others also tried their best to not be brought down. It is disrespectful to laugh at first meetings.
Perhaps only the child did not feel anything funny. His eyes are already on the shiny items all around. The grandfather who is holding his hand relented slightly, allowing the kid to pull him towards the armour pile. There are sharp items all around, even the grooves and leather straps might catch a shard and hurt a child, but the grandpa allowed the boy to grab onto a helmet.
The storekeeper’s eye sparkled. A good portion of his sales came from children baiting parents or grandparents into buying.
“Young sir, you have a good eye. That will be a nice helmet for your grandfather. And, look! I have one for you as well,” he exclaims while pulling a tin helm out from the shelves behind.
The helmet that the kid picked out is for adults, oversized and rather heavy for him. The smith offered a dwarf helm that could fit a human child snugly and not too weighty.
Usually, only the poorest dwarf would pick such a thin armour that would break after a few glancing blows, but it will fit a child perfectly. The smith did not want to sell an item that would cause harm to the customer and ruin his good name, even if he wants the sale.
The child, however, was attached to the helmet he picked and refused to put it back. The dwarf had to remove the visor and the gorget and add cushion paddings inside to make it fit, but the weight also decreased substantially. The boy happily wore it with the oversized thing hanging over his head down to his shoulders, as he squealed with laughter.
A child’s laughter is a cure-all for mental ailments. The stress over the new recruits fled like thieves seeing a sheriff, and they eased into the shop looking for weapons and armours they could use. Though all the houses are small because of the limited spaces in the dungeon, the shop managed to accommodate all of them.
Meanwhile, Relestia and Sparrow busied with asking and writing down the day’s prices for materials. The blacksmith happily told them everything they needed to know.
As Relestia stepped closer for the convenience of hearing better, the smith suddenly changed his tune and spoke in a deep voice, “Young missy got an inquisitive mind indeed. It is better for missy to leave this place as soon as your business is done, lest…”
The dwarf shot a sharp glance her way, “Lest the darkness of the dungeon consumes thee all.”
Afterwards, his voice reverted to his high-pitched effeminate tone and the smile that was ever-present returned. He continued reading out the prices as though nothing had happened.
Relestia only felt a chill run down her back. When she looked at Sparrow, she noticed that her dwarven companion had not heard anything.
The group left the armourer fully equipped. Even the boy has a small dagger on his waist. Only Relestia remained listless and worried. A frown appeared on her brow. The uneasy feeling had only increased since they stepped into this place.
It is only when they stepped out of the dungeon town and into the spawning grounds that the strange crushing feeling of someone looking at them disappeared.
…..
Sagrado Araw, the proud captain of the new recruits bravely led everyone down into the darkness of the dungeon. Everyone shot him looks of confidence, but he felt like he was bringing them into certain doom. The confidence boost given from the two tiny girls following behind was a flat zero, and then there are the grandfather and child pair.
Somehow or rather… THEY CAME ALONG!
Here. In the deep, dank, dark, dungeons!
With MONSTERS!
This isn’t a hunt where fathers will bring their Three-Year-Olds! This is a dungeon spawning magical creatures that people die every single day!
Ain’t children supposed to be fearful of monsters? And are they certain that the grandfather over the age of eighty can keep up if they were to run away?
Incidentally, their group are made up of mostly humans, a super small dwarven girl who is the vice-captain, and a single elf teen. Desperation is the one common trait among the recruits, or they would not have risked their lives and be here. Despite being a dwarf city, only one of the bearded ones applied to the guild. They are quite strongly united and would help each other out while the gnomes are wealthier than their cousins, so it is no surprise that only a curious one is here. As for the vice-captain, she is an exception among the dwarves.
Sagrado looked at the grandfather waving his cane around like a sword and the three-year-old wearing an oversized helmet and squealing excitedly every time a shadow moved and felt like he had aged ten years in an instant.
The training will end when they reach the third floor of the dungeon, but for today’s mission, it is to hunt one goblin…
It will be eight, no six, warriors against one and they are allowed to use arrows and magic.
Rather than anything dangerous, it is to let the people not be afraid of the dungeons because this place is both a source of income and a training ground for warriors. In the future, the guild’s Axis Mundi branch will have to frequent all the dungeons.
However, being in this place where monsters could spring out from any corner, there is no guarantee for safety!
What if the first monster they encounter is not a goblin? What then? Who will save them if it is an acid snail?