The meeting room at the adventurer’s academy was unusually quiet. Ulrick and his team stood at attention, flanked by the academy’s guild leaders. The room’s heavy wooden door remained firmly shut, muffling the sound of bustling activity outside.

Ulrick’s group had been summoned to report on their most recent dive into the dungeon, their insights about Lucy, and any other findings that might benefit future expeditions. Gale shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flitting between Brill and Nole, while Vin stood silently, his expression unreadable as always.

The guildmaster, a gruff man with streaks of gray in his dark beard, cleared his throat. “So, you’re telling us that girl… Lucy… is tied to the dungeon somehow, but you’re not sure how?”

“That’s correct,” Ulrick replied. “She interacts with the dungeon creatures like she’s one of them. Even the monsters obey her. But we don’t believe she’s hostile.”

The guildmaster frowned. “She could be an invaluable ally—or a dangerous liability. You did well to avoid provoking her, but her existence raises questions we don’t have answers to.”

Before Ulrick could respond, the door to the room slammed open, and the guildmaster’s words died in his throat. All heads turned as two figures strode inside.

The first was a tall man in gleaming armor, adorned with the sigil of the royal family. His presence demanded attention, his every movement exuding arrogance. His deep blue cloak trailed behind him like a shadow. Following closely was a younger man, his second-in-command, clad in lighter armor but wearing an equally smug expression.

“Ah, so this is what the academy calls a leadership council,” the armored man said, his tone dripping with disdain. He scanned the room, his gaze lingering on Ulrick’s group. “I expected more… professionalism.”

The guildmaster’s jaw tightened. “Lord Alden, we were not expecting you to arrive so suddenly.”

“That much is clear,” Lord Alden replied coldly. “Your academy has grown complacent, wallowing in mediocrity. When His Majesty learned of this dungeon, we were sent to investigate and ensure proper order is maintained. That starts with a personal inspection.”

The guildmaster clenched his fists but said nothing.

Ulrick’s team exchanged uneasy glances. Gale whispered, “This guy’s worse than I imagined.”

Lord Alden turned his sharp gaze toward Ulrick’s group. “And you are?”

“Ulrick, sir. My team has been tasked with surveying the dungeon.”

“And what of this ‘Lucy’?” Alden asked sharply. “Is she a threat?”

“We don’t believe so, sir,” Ulrick said carefully. “She seems tied to the dungeon but hasn’t harmed anyone.”

Alden scoffed. “Naïve. Any creature tied to a dungeon is a threat. If your so-called adventurer guild won’t deal with this, then we will.”

The guildmaster stepped forward. “Lord Alden, I must insist—”

“You’ll insist nothing,” Alden interrupted. “We’ll enter the dungeon at once. My men are all but Tier 2, and we will not be delayed by the incompetence of this… institution.”

He turned sharply on his heel, his second-in-command following without a word. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving a heavy silence in their wake.

“They’ll get themselves killed,” Nole muttered.

“They’ll cause more harm than good,” the guildmaster said, his voice filled with resignation. “Ulrick, follow them. Observe their actions. If they stir up too much trouble, use this.”

He handed Ulrick a gleaming silver horn. Its intricate carvings glinted in the dim light.

Ulrick stared at it. “The signal horn…”

“Exactly. If they push the dungeon too far, sound it. Every adventurer will know to leave immediately.”

Ulrick nodded, slipping the horn into his pack. As he turned to leave with his team, Brill whispered, “This is going to be a disaster.”

As the massive stone doors of the dungeon creaked open once more, Ulrick and his team stepped into the shadowed maw. The usual damp, earthy scent was mixed with something else today—a sharp, metallic tang that made the air feel heavier. Gale immediately noticed the difference.

“This doesn’t smell right,” he muttered, his hand already gripping the hilt of his sword.

“It’s not just the smell,” Nole added, crouching beside a clawed corpse. The body of a quillbug lay sprawled near the entrance, its carapace cracked open like a brittle shell. Venom dripped from its broken stinger, forming small pools on the mossy ground. “They killed this thing and didn’t even bother taking anything from it.”

“They’re leaving everything behind,” Ulrick agreed, his eyes scanning the dimly lit path ahead. “Why? No loot, no materials—this is just a slaughter.”

“It’s a show of strength,” Brill remarked, his voice tinged with disdain. “They’re not here to collect. They’re here to prove they’re above all of it.”

Vin knelt near the body, brushing his fingers against its cracked shell. “Efficient kill. No struggle. Group organized. Very dangerous.”

The group advanced cautiously, following the trail of destruction deeper into the first floor. Every few meters, they encountered more bodies—venomwings, crawlers, even a flesh crawler queen, whose lifeless bulk was sprawled across a clearing.

“Unbelievable,” Gale muttered, eyeing the fallen queen. “That thing took us an entire day to kill the first time we ran into it, and they just… walked right over it.”

“Don’t let it get to you,” Ulrick said, though he couldn’t hide the tension in his voice. “It’s not just the monsters they’re killing. It’s the balance. Everything’s out of sync.”

They pressed on, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the damp moss underfoot. The faint hum of dungeon life—distant croaks, the rustle of leaves, and the chirp of hidden insects—was oddly subdued. It felt like the dungeon itself was holding its breath.

By the time they reached the edge of the second floor, the scale of the destruction had grown staggering. Bloodied trails marred the swampy terrain, and the occasional burst of lightning from the storm overhead illuminated the carnage. The air was thick with tension, and even the usually bold Nole fell silent.

“They didn’t just kill monsters here,” Brill said grimly. He gestured toward a mangled bloodroot tree, its bio-matter sacs slashed open and leaking their glowing contents onto the wet ground. “They’re ripping apart the dungeon itself.”

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Ulrick clenched his jaw, his knuckles white as he gripped his weapon. “They’re heading for the labyrinth.”

“What’s their plan, Ulrick?” Gale asked, his voice low. “What do they want with Lucy?”

“I don’t know,” Ulrick admitted. “But if they’re willing to tear apart the dungeon to get to her…” He trailed off, his expression dark. “We need to catch up to them. Fast.”

With that, the team quickened their pace, following the trail of broken bodies and torn earth toward the heart of the dungeon. They moved in silence, the weight of the unknown pressing heavily on their shoulders.

The delegation stepped into the stormlit swamp, their boots sinking into the damp, spongey ground. Lightning crackled above, illuminating the strange bioluminescent glow of the swamp floor. The delegation leader, a tall man with gleaming silver armor, scoffed as he surveyed the eerie landscape.

"This is it? The dreaded second level? Looks like a frog's garden." His tone carried both arrogance and dismissal as his party moved forward.

Their path of destruction began almost immediately. A glowing swamp crab scuttled too close and was swiftly crushed beneath an armored boot. Quillbugs fell to slashes of swords, and even the harmless croaking of luminescent frogs was silenced by arrows. Every strike left the swamp quieter, darker, and less alive. A mage in the group hesitated.

"Captain, killing indiscriminately will disrupt the balance here. The dungeon ecosystem—"

"The only balance worth having is the one we control," the leader interrupted coldly. His blade cut through another creature as if to punctuate his point.

From atop a cluster of glowing mushrooms, Lucy watched in growing horror. Her five legs shifted restlessly, the storm’s light reflecting off her insectile lower half as she descended quickly. She rushed forward, waving her arms to catch their attention.

"Stop it! You’re ruining everything!" she yelled. Her voice carried both anger and desperation.

The delegation turned, their leader arching an eyebrow at the strange figure approaching.

"What in the gods' names..." one of them muttered.

Lucy reached them, her insect legs carrying her quickly over the uneven terrain. She stood firm, her eyes blazing.

"The creatures here aren’t all dangerous! Killing so many will upset the dungeon. You don’t understand—this place has balance. It’s alive, and you’re breaking it!"

The leader stepped forward, his expression shifting from curiosity to disdain.

"And who are you to lecture us? What even are you, child? A beast? A dungeon creation? Whatever you are, you're coming with us for questioning."

Lucy froze as his words sank in.

"No! This is my home! You can’t take me away!"

But two guards were already moving, their hands reaching for her. She tried to back away, but the glowing ropes they carried shimmered ominously.

As she struggled, panic set in. They were too strong, and her cries for them to stop fell on deaf ears.

A piercing scream broke free from her lips—a sound so raw and filled with fear that the swamp itself seemed to hold its breath. The sound echoed, bouncing off the towering mushrooms and distant trees.

Then, silence.

A moment later, a deep, guttural roar shattered the stillness. The delegation froze as the swamp itself seemed to tremble. The sound was distant yet undeniable, growing louder with each passing second.

"What... was that?" one of the knights asked, their voice shaking.

Lucy, still held in place, suddenly stopped struggling. A glimmer of hope crossed her face.

The roar grew closer, a relentless drumbeat of heavy footsteps echoing through the swamp.

Adrian:

Adrian seethed in frustration, his thoughts racing as reports from his remaining oculnids painted a grim picture of the second floor.

System Alert: Venomwing swarm neutralized.

System Alert: Oculnid destroyed. Reassigning observation points...

System Alert: Quillbug colony exterminated.

Each alert struck like a hammer blow. His precious creatures weren’t just being avoided—they were being hunted. Adrian felt their deaths like dull pangs through the dungeon, each one a piece of himself ripped away.

“Who the hell are these people?” he growled, his voice echoing in the core chamber. Overseer Dronis hovered nearby, its translucent wings buzzing softly.

“Master,” it replied in its usual monotone, “the intruders exhibit advanced combat techniques. High-level coordination and power signatures detected. They... do not act as normal adventurers.”

“No kidding,” Adrian muttered, his gaze narrowing on the visualization of the second floor. A path of destruction cut across the swamp: corpses, uprooted flora, even toppled Bloodroot Trees. “They’re not adventurers—they’re vandals.”

He pushed his focus deeper into the second floor, searching for the culprits. His vision zeroed in on a group of armored figures slicing through the swamp with terrifying precision. Every movement was calculated, their attacks merciless. They didn’t just kill; they eradicated.

One figure caught his attention—a smug leader wielding a blade that glinted with sickening confidence. Adrian’s vision blurred momentarily as the man struck down an oculnid without hesitation, severing its connection to the dungeon. He clenched his metaphorical fists.

“They’re killing everything,” he hissed. “Do they not understand balance? No, of course not. They just see numbers and loot.”

Dronis tilted its head, its singular eye unblinking. “Shall I redirect resources, Master?”

Adrian paused, his voice dropping to a simmer. “No. Wait. I want to know where they’re going. Why are they here?”

The answer came in a scream.

Lucy’s cry tore through the labyrinth, raw and panicked. The sound didn’t just echo—it reverberated, shaking Adrian to his core. His thoughts turned to fire, searing away reason and replacing it with rage.

“Dronis,” he growled, his tone sharper than a blade. “Divert everything onto them. No exceptions.”

The Overseer’s glow dimmed, its usual monotone carrying a darker edge. “Yes, Master.”

Adrian barely noticed the quickened pulse of his dungeon heart, its rhythm syncing with his fury. Then came another sound—a bone-rattling roar that reverberated through the dungeon.

Corpsemountain’s roar.

A wicked grin twisted Adrian’s expression. One thought rose above the chaos:

Good. Nobody touches Lucy.

Ulrick and his team:

Ulrick and his team sprinted through the dungeon, their breaths heavy as they followed the unmistakable trail of destruction left by the delegation. Every step brought fresh horrors into view—burn marks scorched into the ground, towering Bloodroot Trees splintered and toppled like mere twigs, and the lifeless bodies of creatures strewn across the swamp. It was an eerie, harrowing sight, a stark contrast to the usual balance of the dungeon.

“This is madness,” Brill muttered, his voice barely audible over the squelching of their boots in the damp ground. “What kind of group does this much damage?”

“They’re not just adventurers,” Ulrick spat, his gaze locked forward. “These are soldiers. But what the hell do they think they’re doing, torching the entire floor?”

As they reached the entrance to the second level, a piercing scream froze them in their tracks. The voice was unmistakable—Lucy. Ulrick’s stomach dropped like a stone.

"That’s her," Gale whispered, his hand tightening around his weapon.

Before any of them could move, the bioluminescent plants that covered the cavern dimmed. A brief but profound silence fell, broken only by the faint crackling of distant lightning. And then the chaos erupted.

From the tunnels behind them, a torrent of monsters from the first floor surged forward, their guttural cries filling the air as they rushed past the team. Venomwings buzzed overhead in swarms, Flesh Crawlers scuttled in droves, and even the typically sluggish Quillbugs charged ahead with uncharacteristic fury.

The adventurers stood frozen in place, weapons half-raised. The creatures paid them no mind, their singular focus locked on the source of the disturbance deeper within.

“Oh shit,” Gale shouted over the cacophony. “The dungeon’s gone crazy!”

“Move!” Ulrick commanded, dragging the group forward. The sheer volume of monsters surging toward the second floor made it impossible to stay in one place.

When they finally reached the sprawling swamp of the second level, the sight that greeted them was nothing short of a battlefield. In the distance, they spotted the delegation surrounded by swarms of monsters, locked in a brutal fight. The delegation fought valiantly, their movements precise, their power evident as they cut through waves of creatures with practiced ease. Yet the dungeon’s rage was unrelenting. Monsters hurled themselves at the intruders, their screams a symphony of fury and desperation.

“There she is!” Nole shouted, pointing toward the delegation. In their midst, Lucy struggled against two heavily armored guards holding her down, her cries of panic ringing out amidst the chaos.

And then, something changed. A shadow loomed in the distance, massive and unmistakable. The adventurers’ hearts sank as mushrooms fell one by one in a straight line, crashing into the swamp like toppled dominoes. The ground shook with each impact, and in the dim light, they saw it: Corpsemountain.

“Oh no,” Ulrick whispered, sweat dripping down his face. The monstrous guardian was a force of nature, its massive form tearing a path straight toward the delegation.

There was no time to think. Ulrick pulled the signal horn from his pack and blew into it with all his might. The sound reverberated through the dungeon, a haunting wail that carried far and wide. Every adventurer knew that signal, and its meaning was clear.

"Retreat!" Gale yelled, echoing the sentiment.

They could only hope the others heard the warning. For now, they had to move—before the dungeon’s wrath turned its gaze toward them.