The air was filled with the resounding clang of Gale’s sword slicing clean through a quillbug. Its segmented body split apart with a sickening crunch, and a few twitching legs signaled the end of its life. Poisonous quills were lodged in his shoulder, but Gale pressed on, fueled by adrenaline and the knowledge that Vin’s healing and the anti-venom in their packs would patch him up. The fight needed to end first.

The others were faring just as well. Around them, the remnants of a small swarm of venombeasts and quillbugs lay scattered, their bodies lifeless and punctured. Gale glanced at his sword, the blade slick with ichor, and nodded with satisfaction. His new weapon was worth every coin. “We’re getting stronger... better coordinated,” he thought, wiping sweat—and a bit of rain—from his brow.

“Why does it have to rain everywhere?” Nole’s grumpy voice broke through the aftermath of battle. She wrung out her drenched hair, glaring at the constant drizzle. “Seriously, we’re underground! Stupid dungeon puts a storm into an underground level. Who even does that?”

Sheltering beneath a large mushroom cap, the group set up a makeshift camp. Brill and Vin were busy tending to wounds—Brill handing out doses of anti-venom while Vin worked his healing magic. Ulrick sat nearby, scanning their surroundings with unease.

“You know what bothers me more?” Ulrick started, his voice low. “We haven’t seen a single herd of those deer-creatures. No guardians, no sign of their trails. After our first encounter, you’d think we’d run into them again—or hear about other adventurers doing so—but nothing. Where have they gone?”

Vin, as cryptic as always, chimed in, “Guardian ran. Took herd. Hiding. Guardian smart, maybe.”

That didn’t sit right with Ulrick. The guardians were intelligent, more so than the average dungeon monster. Their behavior felt deliberate—calculated even. But where could they have gone? And why?

The group agreed to take a brief rest before continuing deeper into the dungeon. Using some dried shroomwood, Brill sparked a small fire with his magic, the faint warmth a welcome reprieve from the persistent storm.

“This stuff is weird,” Brill remarked, holding up a piece of the shroomwood. “It’s like normal wood, but it absorbs water so efficiently—and it’s surprisingly flexible. Imagine a roof that waterproofs itself, or even clothes that dry instantly.”

Ulrick, still munching on a piece of jerky, looked thoughtful. “Huh, yeah, or an axe handle made from it. Flexible, absorbs sweat, and molds to your grip. We should definitely bring some back to the academy. Maybe the blacksmith can find more uses for it.” His enthusiasm was infectious, and even Nole seemed to perk up at the idea, though she still sat with her arms crossed, glaring at the rain.

The fire crackled softly, and for a moment, the group relaxed. But the unease lingered in the back of Ulrick’s mind, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. The missing guardians, the unnaturally coordinated monsters—they all pointed to something more. Something they weren’t seeing.

And somewhere in the darkness, beyond the reach of the firelight, the dungeon watched.

After an hour of enduring Nole’s relentless complaints—much to the group’s practiced ability to tune her out—they decided it was time to press on. Their mission remained unchanged: find Lucy and get answers to the mounting questions about this dungeon’s bizarre nature. If Lucy was connected to the dungeon, she’d likely be near its core, which, judging by the towering glowing tree, seemed to be at the labyrinth’s heart.

As they approached the tree’s base, its massive roots rose like natural walls, stretching nearly six meters high and pulsing faintly, as though alive. The roots formed an almost perfect circle around the tree, their thick growth intertwining to create an unbroken barrier. Wandering along the perimeter, they caught faint noises—hums, clicks, and the occasional deep growl—from within. With no way to see over the roots, the group stayed cautious.

Finally, they stumbled upon an opening, a gap in the roots that resembled an entrance. Relief turned to tension when they spotted what lay ahead—a large group of creatures clustered near the entrance, all on high alert. The sight was both intimidating and unexpected.

At the forefront, herd guardians sat lazily around a fire, their shroomwood clubs resting beside them. Nearby, a mixture of dungeon creatures loitered, from venomwings perched on mushroom caps to flesh crawlers half-burrowed into the damp ground. It was a defensive position unlike any they’d seen before—organized and, strangely, cooperative.

"I think we know what those noises were," Nole whispered, her voice barely audible. "And where the guardians and those deer things have been hiding."

Ulrick nodded, his grip tightening on his axe. “Looks like they’re working together. Guardians and monsters guarding… what? The labyrinth?”

Before they could deliberate further, movement from within the labyrinth caught their attention. The guardians immediately stood, humming in unison as they bowed toward a figure emerging from the depths.

The group froze.

Walking on five insect-like legs, a towering creature emerged, its bioluminescent markings shimmering faintly in the dim light. Beside it, the enormous bulk of the flesh crawler Lucy had ridden before—Chomp, unmistakable in his eerie, hulking presence. But it wasn’t Chomp that held their attention.

It was the upper half of the insectile figure.

“By the gods… Lucy!” Ulrick’s voice broke the silence, loud enough to echo faintly off the roots. His shout drew the attention of every guardian and monster present.

The reaction was immediate.

The herd guardians snapped to their feet, shroomwood clubs in hand, forming a defensive line in front of the entrance. Dungeon monsters growled, wings buzzed, and claws scraped the ground as they moved into strategic positions, ready to protect the labyrinth. Even the venomwings circled overhead, creating a menacing hum.

“Oh, the adventurers! Hey! Hello!!!” Lucy’s cheerful voice cut through the tension like a ray of sunshine breaking through storm clouds. She waved enthusiastically, completely oblivious to the chaos her appearance was causing.

The guardians didn’t relax. One of them—marked by darker markings on its skull and standing slightly taller than the others—hummed a deep, resonant tune. Lucy tilted her head, listening carefully, and then gave an understanding nod.

“Oh, that’s sad… Well, I’ll tell them to leave, so calm down, okay, Shini?” she said, addressing the marked guardian as though it were a long-time friend.

The guardian—Shini, as Lucy had called it—reluctantly lowered its club and returned to its seated position, though its eyes never left Ulrick’s group. Slowly, the rest of the creatures followed suit, their tension easing but their wariness remaining palpable.

Lucy skipped forward, her five legs moving fluidly as though she’d always had them. “Don’t worry, guys! They’re nice!” she called out to the guardians before turning her full attention to the adventurers. Her bright, childish grin didn’t match the gravity of the situation—or the monstrous changes her body had undergone.

Ulrick and the others stood speechless, still trying to process what they were seeing. Lucy… but not Lucy. What had the dungeon done to her?

Lucy cheerfully ushered the group a little farther from the labyrinth entrance, though the Wendren remained on edge. The guardians and other creatures watched them with wary eyes, their posture stiff and ready to react at a moment’s notice. Chomp, in stark contrast, ambled along happily behind Lucy, his tongue lolling slightly as if this were just another leisurely stroll.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Lucy spun around and perched herself on the base of a massive mushroom, her legs folding beneath her in a surprisingly graceful motion for her new insectile form. "So, what are you guys doing here? The labyrinth is off-limits, you know?" she asked, casually climbing the mushroom like a spider on a web.

The group's reactions varied between shock and disbelief. "What the hell has this dungeon done to you, Lucy?" Nole blurted out, her voice tinged with panic. "Can we reverse that? We have to get you out of here, back to normal!"

Lucy stopped mid-climb, her bioluminescent markings glowing faintly as she turned to face them. Her expression darkened slightly, though her voice remained light. "Oh, nononono! This is my home now, and you’re not taking me anywhere." She emphasized her words by tapping one of her five legs against the mushroom, which emitted a soft, hollow sound.

The group barely had time to respond before a sudden rustle in the underbrush made them tense. Gale instinctively reached for his sword, but what emerged wasn’t a threat—at least, not directly. One of the eerie oculnids crawled out from the bushes with deliberate, spindly movements. Its massive, twitching eye focused on them, examining the group with an unsettling intensity as it passed.

“That wasn’t random, was it?” Brill muttered, watching the creature as it latched onto the same mushroom Lucy had been climbing. The oculnid sunk its fangs into the stem and froze in place, its unblinking eye fixed on the adventurers.

“The giver of noms wants to see,” a deep, guttural voice rumbled from behind them. The group whipped around, their eyes landing on Chomp, who stood there nonchalantly. His words had come from his massive jaws, and the air around him seemed to hum faintly with an unnatural resonance.

"I still can’t believe this dungeon monster can talk," Gale muttered, his grip on his sword tightening.

"Ha! Well, technically, I’m a dungeon monster too, and I can talk just fine!" Lucy said, her cheerful tone doing little to reassure the group. She reached down from her perch and patted the oculnid affectionately on its smooth, chitinous shell. "And the Wendren talk all the time! Well, they’re not dungeon monsters, so I guess it’s different. Whatever!"

The adventurers exchanged uneasy glances. It was clear they’d stumbled into something far beyond their understanding, and the longer they stayed, the more surreal it became.

"A dungeon monster? You... you're a dungeon monster? And who is the 'giver of noms'?" Ulrick stammered, his eyes wide with confusion and disbelief.

The oculnid in front of them rolled its eye dramatically—a gesture that, unbeknownst to them, was likely happening all over the dungeon. Lucy tilted her head to meet the creature's gaze. "Oh, don't be like that! It's a title of honor!" she chided playfully.

The oculnid's eye focused on her for a moment before shifting back to the adventurers. Lucy groaned theatrically. "Okay, okay!" she exclaimed. Clearing her throat, she adopted a mock-serious tone. "The dungeon would prefer not to be called that. Call it what you want—anything but that," she said, making air quotes with her fingers.

"What the hell is happening here?" Ulrick couldn't contain himself. The situation was too bizarre. First, Lucy had an insectile lower body; then she conversed effortlessly with the guardians—the Wendren, as she called them. Now, she was talking to one of those eye creatures as if relaying messages from the dungeon itself.

"Lucy... what are you talking about?" he asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

She sighed, crossing her arms. "For some reason, the dungeon dislikes that title. He was quite rude about it just now," she said, casting a sidelong glance at the oculnid. Raising her voice slightly, she added, "There's no reason to be rude, oh great 'giver of noms'!"

The adventurers exchanged bewildered looks as a single venomwing swooped down out of nowhere, playfully knocking Lucy off the mushroom and into a puddle. "Ugh! I will get you back for that, just you wait!" she shouted after the retreating creature, shaking a fist.

The group began to relax slightly, sensing that the immediate danger had passed. They sheathed their weapons as it became apparent that no additional monsters were preparing to attack. Lucy stood up, wringing out her damp hair. "He's always so sensitive... needs to learn how to have fun," she muttered.

Ulrick, trying to process everything, took a deep breath. "Wait... are you saying the dungeon itself is intelligent?" he asked cautiously.

Lucy looked at him with an amused expression. "Intelligent? That's the biggest understatement of all time!"

As if on cue, the venomwing returned, landing gently on her head and delicately picking bits of debris out of her hair. She rolled her eyes but allowed it to continue. "Oh, so grooming me is acceptable, but a little teasing isn't? Typical," she quipped.

Vin stepped forward, his eyes narrowed in thought. "Intelligent dungeon—not operating on instinct. Huge problem," he stated bluntly.

"What do you mean?" Brill asked, turning to Vin.

Vin met his gaze. "Dungeon sentient. Born here. Therefore, citizen of the kingdom. Massive implications. Only intelligent dungeon in the world. Research immense. Resources immense. Could lead to war with other nations. We have to keep quiet."

Their eyes widened as Vin laid out the potential consequences. The weight of his words settled heavily upon them. An intelligent dungeon could upset the balance of power, attract unwanted attention, or worse.

"He's right," Nole agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. "We have to keep this under wraps. No one can know about this."

A low rumble interrupted their hushed conversation. "You got food? Chomp hungry!" Chomp blurted out, entirely oblivious to the severity of the situation.

The tension shattered like glass. Gale couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle. "Of course he is," he said, shaking his head.

Lucy laughed, her eyes twinkling. "Well, you did interrupt his lunchtime," she teased.

Ulrick sighed, a mix of exasperation and relief. "Fine. Let's take a moment. We can share some of our provisions."

As they began to unpack some food, the guardians and nearby creatures watched with cautious curiosity. The group sat down, the surreal nature of their predicament hanging over them. Questions still lingered, but for now, they shared a brief respite in the heart of the dungeon, unsure of what their next move should be.

As the group settled into an improvised lunch, the air of unease began to lift. Even Nole’s usual complaints were momentarily silenced as the scent of roasted chicken filled the air. Gale was halfway through his chicken strips when Chomp’s voice broke the relative calm.

"What is that?! That is yumi!" Chomp declared, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"These?" Gale asked, holding up a half-eaten piece. "Seasoned chicken strips."

"We need some chicken strips in the dungeon! Where can I get more?!" Chomp’s voice twinkled with pure delight, his tail wagging like a dog that had just discovered bacon.

Gale, unable to suppress a grin, responded thoughtfully, "Well, you’d need chickens first. You could buy some and let them roam around, I guess? Then you’d get eggs too, not just meat."

Chomp gasped, his excitement practically bubbling over. "Lucy! Lucy!! Can we make some chicken-buy-things?! I want all the chicken strips!"

Lucy, who had been sipping from her waterskin, almost choked as she burst into laughter. "Hahaha, maybe later, Chomp! Oh gods, you’re too much!"

The group shared a rare moment of relaxed laughter, but the calm was short-lived. A shadow fell over them as a hulking figure emerged from the labyrinth entrance.

Weapons were drawn instantly. Ulrick and Gale moved into defensive stances, while Brill prepared his flames. Even Vin’s calm demeanor cracked as his gaze fixated on the massive creature walking toward them.

“The predators who hunted my herd and killed my sister,” came a deep, resonant hum. Marked Skull loomed over them, his three glowing eyes fixed on the adventurers with a hatred that burned hotter than Brill’s flames. “Now, you sit here with Lucy of the Sacred Tree... what a strange and disgusting sight.”

The group froze, their gazes darting between Lucy and the towering wendren.

“Predators, leave now,” Marked Skull ordered, his voice booming through the clearing. “You will not be hunted today, for the respect you have shown the sacred messenger. But if you ever return, the wendren will hunt you as you hunted my sister.”

“Marky! I’m talking to them—don’t be rude!” Lucy’s voice cut through the tension as she stepped forward, her insect legs clicking softly against the ground. She looked up at Marked Skull, clearly unafraid. “They’re not bad guys! They’re just... confused and a little scared. Give them a break.”

Marked Skull’s three eyes narrowed, and his head tilted slightly toward Lucy. “I hear your words, Sacred Messenger, but I do not understand this alliance. These predators are sibling-killers. I do not want them near the village.”

Lucy sighed and patted one of Marked Skull’s arms. “You’re too serious, Marky. You need to learn how to have fun.”

“Fun...” Marked Skull hummed the word with clear distaste before turning his back on the group. “I have spoken. They leave now.” Without another word, he strode back into the labyrinth, his massive frame disappearing behind the pulsing roots.

Ulrick let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and slowly lowered his sword. “I think we’ve fulfilled our mission,” he said carefully. “We should leave. Now.”

Lucy’s face brightened as she waved enthusiastically. “Okay! Maybe I’ll visit you guys next time! That’d be fun!”

The group didn’t bother responding. They hastily packed their belongings, making sure to include a bundle of shroomwood, and began their trek back to the surface.

Lucy, meanwhile, turned to Chomp with a grin. “Well, buddy, let’s go check out the first floor. Maybe we can find those chicken strips you’re so excited about!”

“Yumi!” Chomp chirped happily, bounding after her as the pair set off for their next adventure.