Two weeks had passed, and Adrian observed his swamp with a sense of satisfaction. The ecosystem he’d built was thriving—if you could call something so grotesque “thriving.” Bio-matter levels had reached 786, the traps and monsters functioned seamlessly, and even without adventurers venturing into the swamp, everything seemed stable.
But what captured Adrian’s attention most during those weeks wasn’t the dungeon itself—it was Lucy and Chomp.
Lucy had transitioned from fear and despair to forming an unbreakable bond with the very creature she’d initially feared the most. Watching Chomp leap and bound through the swamp with Lucy clinging to his back—alternating between laughter and terrified shrieks—was a bizarre sight. It was a strange, heartwarming scene, set in a nightmarish swamp. Lucy treated the dungeon like a playground: petting Flesh Crawlers, picking Corpsecap mushrooms and giggling like they were toys, and even dangling from vines. Stranger still, none of the monsters showed aggression toward her. Adrian noted this, wondering if her connection to the dungeon marked her as part of its ecosystem in a way he didn’t fully understand.
Speaking of the Corpsecaps, Adrian had made an interesting discovery. The traps didn’t just kill—they multiplied. Any time a Corpsecap claimed a kill, a new one sprouted from the corpse. If two kills occurred near each other, two Corpsecaps emerged. It seemed the traps were integrating into the swamp’s ecosystem in ways he hadn’t predicted.
Another strange occurrence caught Adrian’s attention that day. A Bloodroot Tree had produced what looked like an acorn. The tendril holding it lowered to the ground, and then something surprising happened. One of the Flesh Crawler queens emerged from its nest, unsteady but clearly driven by instinct. It picked up the acorn delicately with its mandibles and carried it off into the swamp. Adrian watched as the queen chose a spot, buried the acorn, and settled over it like a hen with an egg.
Over two days, the acorn grew into a small, ball-like proto-tree, rooted in the swamp and sheltered by the queen. Tiny Flesh Crawlers emerged, scavenging for plants and insects to nourish the tree. Adrian watched with a sense of warped pride. His creations weren’t just surviving—they were evolving.
Adrian was just about to admire his work further when the calm was broken by five heavy thuds at the swamp’s rim. He felt them before the oculnids confirmed it: five adventurers. Adrian zoomed his attention through the network of eyes and immediately recognized them. It was the same group as before, though their gear looked significantly improved. Their presence wasn’t unexpected, but it was unsettling.
Without hesitation, Adrian issued a command.
“Chomp, Lucy, come back to the hollow tree. Now.”
Chomp, who had been performing his usual gravity-defying antics, immediately bounded toward the hollow tree with Lucy clinging to his back, protesting, “Aww, but we were having fun!”
Adrian felt an odd unease. These adventurers were no strangers, but two weeks was plenty of time for them to prepare. And this time, Adrian had no intention of underestimating them—or letting them underestimate him.
Adrian observed through the oculnids as the adventurers hesitated at the edge of the swamp, their curiosity piqued by the eerie, unmoving spider-like creatures. The oculnids were perfectly still, their singular purpose to provide Adrian with vision, but their unnatural design unnerved the group. He felt the faint vibrations of their voices ripple through the swamp’s humid air. Concentrating, Adrian realized he could almost make out what they were saying—an ability he hadn’t consciously noticed before.
"Eyes seem to follow me, that's absolutely creepy!" The female adventurer's voice was laced with irritation and unease. "I don’t mind people looking at my behind when I walk by, but when monsters are watching me, that's enough!" Adrian smirked inwardly at her candor.
Then, a more analytical voice broke through, its cadence peculiar and halting. "Eyes follow motion, all eyes same target. Maybe swarm? No. No function for swarm watching target together. Eye spider immobile, always watching. Counting three at rim. Visual system for dungeon? Possible."
Adrian paused. The adventurer’s observations were unnervingly accurate. His strange speech pattern and focused deductions caught Adrian’s attention. Is that one autistic? Adrian wondered, not out of disdain, but fascination. The analytical adventurer’s perspective was unique, logical, and efficient—qualities Adrian respected.
"Whatever they are," the leader, clad in half-plate armor, interjected, "they don’t seem to do anything. Just ignore them. If those are the eyes of the dungeon, I don’t want to make it mad by killing them. Okay, guys, fall into formation. This is Expedition Two into the cursed swamp. Hold your eyes open. Always."
Adrian noted the authoritative tone. The leader was cautious but clearly not afraid. This was someone who commanded respect and expected to be followed—a good quality, Adrian thought. Perhaps too good. This group had learned from their previous foray into the swamp. They weren’t underestimating the dangers this time.
Adrian shifted his focus away from their words, observing their movements instead. Let’s see how they handle the dungeon this time, he thought, his dungeon heart pulsing faintly with anticipation.
Adrian observed the adventurers as they moved cautiously through the swamp, their footsteps squelching in the mud as they skirted the deeper pools of water. His improvements to the swamp's ecosystem had borne fruit—there were more creatures, more danger, and more complexity. Yet, this group seemed more prepared, more coordinated than before.
It didn’t take long for them to stumble upon a Flesh Crawler nest. Adrian watched as the female adventurer, quick on her feet, nocked arrows and sent them flying with precision. Four of the unsuspecting creatures fell before they even realized they were under attack. The remaining six surged forward, screeching and clattering their sickle-like limbs against the wet ground.
The leader stepped forward, intercepting the charge. His shield clanged as two Flesh Crawlers slammed into it, their frenzied attacks momentarily halted. Another two were drawn to his bold movements, focusing their aggression on him. The remaining two veered toward a man radiating an aura of confidence. His hands erupted into flames, and with practiced ease, he sent a continuous stream of fire towards the incoming creatures. Isolated from the rest of the swarm, the Flesh Crawlers stood no chance, falling one after the other in a blaze of crackling heat.
Meanwhile, a young adventurer, barely older than Lucy, hefted a two-handed sword and swung it in a wide arc. His strike connected with one Flesh Crawler, splitting it cleanly. Despite his inexperience, his strike was decisive. Adrian noted his raw potential but also his reckless pride.
The leader, locked in battle with the final three Flesh Crawlers, managed to keep them at bay with a combination of his shield and axe. He sustained only a shallow cut to his upper thigh, the claw slipping through a gap in his armor. Two arrows whistled through the air, taking down one of the creatures. The remaining two were quickly dispatched by axe and flame.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Adrian's attention shifted to the robed man standing motionless at the rear. His lack of participation puzzled Adrian. A mage who doesn’t cast spells? Adrian mused. Or perhaps… a healer? The thought intrigued him. The team dynamic was robust, and their roles seemed well-distributed.
The battle won, the adventurers scanned the area, weapons ready, but found no immediate threats. Their vigilance did not falter as the fire mage turned his attention to the Bloodroot Tree. Flames licked at its base, the fire spreading quickly through the symbiotic organism. The eggs in the queen's chamber popped under the intense heat, and a high-pitched, guttural scream echoed through the swamp as the queen met her agonizing end. Adrian felt the queen's life force dissipate, a faint pang of loss for the creature he had created.
This is going much better for them than last time, Adrian thought.
The adventurers were doing well, all things considered. Their progress through the swamp was steady, and their adaptability was commendable. Adrian watched with an odd mixture of pride and amusement as they faced the challenges his dungeon presented. This was the dance of dungeon and adventurers, a symbiotic relationship of danger and growth.
Ulrick’s cautious approach was paying off. He was clearly leading with his experience, though the group's discomfort with the swamp's nature showed in every step they took. The river crossing had been particularly entertaining for Adrian. Watching Nole deal with leeches and the prideful mage fuss over his sodden robes was a small delight. It wasn’t as deadly as some parts of the swamp, but it served as a reminder that nature itself could be its own hazard.
The clearing of Corpsecaps was the highlight so far. Adrian couldn’t stop the amused pulse that rippled through the dungeon as the mushrooms detonated in a fiery chain reaction. The adventurers had been cautious, but not cautious enough. The sight of them wiping mud and debris from their faces was priceless.
"Good effort, but always check for clusters," Adrian mused, as though giving them silent advice.
He glanced at his bio-mass. 796 and climbing steadily. Not bad. It wasn’t an enormous haul yet, but his patience was paying off. This group was both a source of entertainment and a measure of his dungeon’s effectiveness. The fact that they were aiming for the center intrigued him.
“Well, let’s see how far you can go,” Adrian thought, already curious about their next move.
Adrian’s focus sharpened as he observed the aftermath of the Corpsecap explosion. Emerging from the murky undergrowth was something he hadn’t noticed before—something he didn’t even know existed within his dungeon. The sight made him pause, and when Chomp’s voice echoed through their shared connection, Adrian felt his curiosity peak.
“Crooki!” Chomp laughed, the guttural growl of his voice surprisingly light. “That one’s strange, master! Crooki’s fun to watch!”
Adrian concentrated on the lumbering creature making its way toward the adventurers. It was a bizarre amalgamation of life and death, a skinned alligator that seemed almost spectral under the dim swamp light. Its snout bore a jagged scar, and the once-lifeless body was now animated, not by its own will but by the Corpsecaps that adorned its back. Spores drifted from the mushroom caps in a haunting mist, carried by the slight movements of its body as it shuffled closer to the clearing.
The adventurers froze, their faces pale as the blood drained from them. Whatever this thing was, they knew it. Recognition flashed in their eyes, mingled with disbelief and horror.
"Crooki," Adrian murmured, amused by the name Chomp had given it. He concentrated further, prompting the system to respond with a cold, factual message:
> Corpsecap Cluster:
> This advanced form of Corpsecap emerges when sufficient biomass is absorbed by the fungus. No longer capable of exploding, the cluster uses the corpse it has grown upon for mobility, attack, and defense. The mycelium threads reinforce the host’s muscles and bones, animating the body as a vessel for survival. Spores are released to further propagate the Corpsecap species.
> Challenge Rating: Medium for lower-level adventurers.
Adrian couldn’t help but admire the morbid beauty of the creature. The Corpsecap’s clever adaptation to its environment was fascinating, and it stirred his scientist’s mind. However, the adventurers didn’t seem to share his appreciation for nature’s ingenuity.
They snapped into action, their earlier confidence giving way to nervous precision. Nole loosed arrows, finding purchase in the soft tissues of the reanimated beast. The fire mage ignited Crooki’s back with bursts of flame, burning away the mushrooms and blackening the alligator’s exposed flesh. The melee fighters worked in tandem, slicing through the reinforced muscles until the Corpsecap Cluster collapsed in a heap.
The fight was over quickly, the adventurers leaving the grotesque form to rot where it fell. Adrian was slightly disappointed, but he reminded himself that this was the nature of the dungeon—a test, not a slaughter.
“Master?” Chomp’s voice broke through Adrian’s thoughts. “Why not help Crooki? He was funny.”
“No,” Adrian replied calmly. “The adventurers need challenges. Crooki served his purpose. Let them have their victory.”
Adrian watched the group move on, the swamp absorbing their noise as they ventured further. He felt a twinge of curiosity about the connection between Crooki and the adventurers. They had recognized the creature, but how? That question lingered in Adrian’s mind as he prepared for the next phase of the dungeon’s performance.
System Notification:
Bio-Matter: 800/1000
Level-Up Available. Cost: 800 Bio-Mass.
Adrian felt a rush of excitement. He hadn't expected the level-up system to work this way, requiring him to trigger it manually. But spending nearly all his bio-matter at once? That seemed... risky. And then, a wild idea struck him. If he could grin, he would have. Instead, Lucy and Chomp heard an eerie sound ripple through their connection with him—a laugh, something between a maniacal cackle and the thrill of discovery.
“What’s going on?” Lucy asked, looking at Chomp.
Chomp tilted his head. “Master laugh weird... what he plan now?”
Adrian simply replied, “Just enjoy the show.”
The two exchanged confused glances, left to wonder what their master was up to this time.
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The adventurers moved cautiously through the swamp, their senses on high alert. Another bloodroot tree loomed ahead, its Flesh Crawler defenders already bristling with aggression. The team prepared for battle, and though they managed to overcome the creatures, it wasn’t without cost. Gale and Ulrick bore fresh wounds, but Vin’s healing magic patched them up well enough.
Finally, the group stood before the massive dead tree at the swamp’s center. Its hollowed, gnarled trunk loomed like a sentinel guarding the heart of the dungeon.
“This must be it,” Gale whispered, his awe evident. “This is where the heart is, right? Inside the tree?”
Ulrick nodded. “You can hear it, can’t you? The heartbeat. It’s louder here.”
Before they could decide their next move, movement caught their attention. A swarm of small creatures—Flesh Crawlers, but far more numerous than before—emerged from the shadows, encircling the tree. The adventurers braced themselves, falling into defensive stances, but the creatures didn’t attack.
A tense silence hung in the air. The only sound was the rhythmic pounding of the heart.
Then, the ground began to tremble. The heartbeat quickened, echoing like a war drum.
“What’s happening?!” Brill shouted.
The party watched in horror as the dead tree began to grow. Twisted sprouts burst from its bark, and leaves, vibrant and green, pushed their way out of the lifeless wood. At the same time, the roots below the tree tore through the swamp floor, plunging into the earth. The entire structure grew taller and more imposing, as if the dungeon itself was coming alive.
Lightning split the sky and struck the tree directly at its center. For a moment, the world stood still. No flames, no scars, just a sudden, unnatural silence.
And then, as if nothing had happened, the swamp returned to life. The croaks of frogs and the buzz of insects resumed, breaking the stillness.
The Flesh Crawlers that had surrounded the tree began to disperse, retreating into the swamp without a sound.
“What in the name of the gods just happened?” Brill muttered, his voice shaky.
“I... I don’t know,” Ulrick said, his eyes fixed on the now-living tree.
Gale pointed at the roots. “Did you see that? The roots... they went straight down. I think I saw tunnels forming. Could it be a new dungeon level?”
Ulrick met Gale’s wide-eyed gaze and nodded grimly. “It’s possible. But that’s not our concern right now. We’re leaving. Now.”
No one argued. The group retraced their steps as quickly as possible, the swamp seeming even more hostile in the wake of what they’d witnessed.