Al was the king of bug extermination—no other title would do. He marched ahead, gripping two blue spray bottles like guns, with my light ball floating above him. He squeezed the triggers at each intersection, releasing a liquid mist into the air. The spray’s sharp, herbal scent mixed with the tunnels’ earthy smell. I walked behind him, my job to call the wind. I summoned it, feeling it stir and whip through the passageways, carrying the potion into every crack and crevice. After a minute or two, we rushed in to convert the bugs into crystals. If any dared to keep moving, Al was quick to aim and spray again until they stilled.
The tunnels were perfect for practicing my wind control; the air was thick and ready to move. At first, I had to whisper and coax, urging the wind to blow where needed. Sometimes, it hesitated, and I’d have to ask again, feeling the reluctance as it pushed forward. But as we delved deeper, it became easier, more like a conversation than a command. My gestures grew more confident, my hand slicing through the air as the wind obeyed, rushing ahead without hesitation. After an hour, I didn’t even need to ask—I just pointed, and the breeze surged into the burrow.
The Warren just kept going, with new tunnels appearing at every turn. Time blurred; hours passed, and the path ahead twisted and turned with no end in sight. Mahya walked behind me, with her light ball above, sketching the map as we advanced, her pencil moving quickly over the paper. She paused at every intersection, her eyes darting from the walls to her map, marking each twist and turn. When the tunnels doubled back on themselves, she’d tap her pencil on the paper, muttering to herself as she adjusted the lines. Sometimes, she stopped, frowning and squinting at the map, muttering unflattering words about those “stupid drunk bugs that can’t dig straight.”
Rue walked last and wasn’t having a good time. The burrows were tall enough that Al only had to stoop occasionally, but Rue’s broad frame made each turn a tight squeeze. His fur brushed against the walls, turning from white to brown, and he growled, his discomfort radiating in waves. Bored and restless, he kept complaining, “Rue want levels. Al take all levels! “
I scratched his ear, feeling the tension ease as he leaned into the touch. “Hey, don’t worry, buddy. There are plenty more dungeons to come. This one’s Al’s, but the next one—or the one after—will be yours. Remember the cat dungeon? You took down all those cats, no problem. There’ll be more like it.”
He huffed, sending me a wave of dissatisfaction so strong it almost felt like a punch. But for nearly twenty minutes, he stayed quiet, trudging forward despite his annoyance.
The hours stretched until we’d been in the burrows for over ten hours. Despite that, the boss and core were nowhere to be seen. Mahya paused again. Her brow furrowed as she examined the map, tracing her finger over the tangled pathways. “We should have found something by now,” she muttered, turning the map to me. It seemed like we had explored every loop and turn, with the passages crisscrossing like a spider’s web. The air was still, and in the last stretch of the tunnels, no more bugs scuttled across our path.
Where the hell were the head bug and the core?
“Ideas?” I asked, glancing between them.
“Get your core out and let it harvest the dungeon. Maybe it’ll expose the bugger,” Mahya suggested, her hand resting on her hip as she studied the tunnels.
“Wait,” Al said, crouching down. He grabbed a clump of dirt, squeezed it between his fingers, and rubbed it thoughtfully. Without hesitation, he sniffed it, then took a quick taste.
Mahya and I exchanged a look, our noses wrinkling in unison. Rue’s voice echoed in my head with a sharp, “Yuck!”
Al stood, brushing his hands off. “I wish to collect this soil,” he said. “It is much better than the soil I have from the dungeon in Lumis. If you help me collect, it will go faster.”
I sighed, pulling out an empty barrel and a shovel. “Fine.” I started scooping the soil into the barrel, the earthy scent rising as I worked. Meanwhile, Al and Mahya placed their hands on the ground, storing the soil directly in their storage.
Al held up a hand now and then, signaling us to stop. He crouched again, inspecting the soil critically before waving us off some patches. “Skip this area,” he muttered, moving on.
After I had filled three barrels and packed six crates, Al straightened up, brushing the dirt from his hands. “That is enough,” he said.
He turned to me, his expression thoughtful. “If you insist on storing everything we collect in containers, it might be a good idea for you to go back to Earth and buy some more metal ones, like the one you gave me for the ash.”
I shook my head, leaning on the shovel. “I don’t want to go back there. Maybe we’ll find something suitable in this world.”
Mahya glanced up from her map, raising an eyebrow. “Or you can ask your house to create some.”
I paused, considering it. “You think it’ll work?”
“Why not?” she shrugged. “It created gold coins from those flakes. Give it the container as an example and ask for more. The Spirits know it absorbed enough metal,” she said, her voice confident.
“Good idea,” I said, nodding. “I’ll try it after we finish the dungeon.”
I took out my core and ordered it to absorb everything. As usual, the surroundings warped, colors blending and flowing into it like streams of acrylic paint. The ground trembled, and the soil shifted beneath my feet. I barely had a moment to react before a massive shape burst out of the tunnel wall—a giant bug. It looked like a grasshopper, but much bigger, with eight sword-like legs whipping through the air, slicing way too close for comfort. We jumped back, the blades missing us by inches.
“Watch out!” I yelled, my heart pounding as the bug’s mandibles snapped with a sharp, metallic click.
Al jumped into action, lifting one of his spray bottles and firing. The mist hissed through the air, coating the bug’s armored shell, but it didn’t slow down. The bug lunged, its legs slicing through the narrow tunnel, carving into the walls and floor as it charged.
I dodged another swipe, feeling the air whip past my arm. Mahya moved in sync, her eyes locked on the bug, dodging each attack with quick steps. Rue barked and tried to bite it but couldn’t get close enough with all those swinging legs.
“Keep it moving!” Al shouted, spraying again, his brow furrowed in concentration. The potion spread across the bug, but it shook it off like nothing, its eyes flashing, mandibles snapping furiously.
We led it through the tunnel, the tight space forcing us into a quick dance of dodging and weaving. The bug’s legs lashed out, gouging the ground as it charged. Al stayed close, finger on the trigger, spraying whenever he got the chance, but the bug kept lunging forward, relentless.
I ducked under a swipe, feeling the blade graze my shoulder. “It’s not going down!” I shouted, frustration creeping in.
“Just keep moving!” Mahya snapped, pulling me around a corner just as the bug’s leg crashed into the wall, sending chunks of dirt and stone flying.
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Al circled around, eyes locked on the bug. He aimed again and unleashed another spray, drenching the bug’s face in the potion. It screeched, flailing its legs wildly. One of them slammed into the ceiling, knocking loose a cloud of dirt.
Finally, the bug’s movements slowed, its legs twitching as if its joints were locking up. Al kept spraying, not letting up. The bug stumbled, its legs buckling. It tried to lunge one more time, but its body wobbled, and its eyes dimmed.
With one last shudder, it collapsed, its legs curling underneath it.
I let out a long breath. “Well, that took longer than I’d like.”
Rue growled, the sound vibrating through the tunnel as he nudged the fallen bug with his nose. He slapped it with his paw and muttered, “Stupid big bug.”
I cast the harvest spell on it three times and now had two medium crystals. We then walked back to my core, following the streaks of acrylic paint-like trails to find it.
“Always feels weird watching that,” Mahya said, her eyes fixed on the scene as the last bits vanished into the core.
We stood in a round space with hazy borders, another core resting about ten meters away. I quickly stored mine so it wouldn’t try to absorb the other, and then we reached out and touched it.
“Gold again,” I grumbled, shaking my head. “What’s with these stupid dungeons in Zindor? I want cool stuff, not gold.”
As the reward materialized, we each got five gold coins. I scowled. Stupid dungeon!
“Gold is considered a good reward,” Mahya said, pocketing her coins. “Adventurers make fortunes in dungeons that give gold.”
“Forget about the gold,” Al cut in, his voice urgent. He pointed to the left, eyes wide. “Look!”
I followed his gaze and spotted it—a portal of doom embedded in one of the dungeon walls.
“What the hell?” I asked, frowning. “Dungeon in a dungeon?”
“Not exactly,” Mahya explained, tilting her head as she studied it. “It happens when dungeons are close together. Sometimes they connect. It’s not inside this one but linked to it.”
We stepped inside, and the first thing that hit me was the sudden drop in temperature. In the narrow corridor, Rue had barely enough space to walk without brushing against the rough stone walls. The air was stale, clinging to everything. The only sound was the faint echo of our footsteps.
“No smells. Rue not like it.” He sniffed the air, his nose twitching.
“You and me both,” I muttered, scratching his ear. “Stay close, alright?”
A faint click under Mahya’s boot was our only warning before a row of spikes shot out from the wall, missing her by a hair’s breadth as she jumped back, landing in a crouch. She looked back at me, eyes wide.
I bent down to inspect the floor. “Pressure plates. Looks like they’re scattered across the entire hallway.”
“We could jump over them,” Al suggested, scanning the floor, but Mahya shook her head.
“There are too many, and some are barely visible,” she replied, crouching low and squinting at the uneven stones. “We’ll have to find them visually.”
“Or we could fly over them,” I suggested.
They both looked at me, and Mahya nodded. “Or we could fly over them.”
I carried them both across. The passage was too tight for Rue to carry Mahya.
“That wasn’t so bad,” I said. “Let’s hope the next section is simple.”
The stairs leading down to the next level were old and covered in dust. I barely took two steps before Rue’s voice cut through the silence. “Floor smell bad. Very bad. John careful.”
I froze just as the floor shifted beneath me. I yanked my foot back in time to see a stone tile sink, and a row of darts shot out from the wall, one whistling past my ear.
“Darts this time,” I muttered, shaking my head.
Mahya inspected the darts lodged in the wall. “They’re not ordinary darts. Look at the tips—they’re coated with something.”
I leaned in, noticing the black liquid dripping from the barbs. “Poison, most likely. Great.”
Al glanced at me. “Fly?”
“Yep.”
At the bottom of the stairs, we moved forward cautiously, each step deliberate as we scanned the floor and walls. Mahya spotted subtle seams and cracks that might trigger traps. Not all of them were tied to the ground—when Al passed a certain point, a set of swinging blades activated and sliced through the air. He barely raised his shield, deflecting the blades with a loud clang.
“At least it’s not monsters,” Al said, his voice tight as he lowered his shield. “Not sure I’d be able to dodge both blades and claws at this rate.”
Rue, trotting along behind us, huffed. “Monsters better. Rue can bite monsters.”
The next stretch was a pitfall that could have sent us tumbling Spirits know where. Once again, I became the mode of transport, carrying them both across.
The last trap was the most intricate. A long corridor stretched before us, with rows of ceiling-mounted spears poised to drop. At the far end, a shimmering door beckoned—if we could make it.
I flew us across, and we stood in front of the door. Al pushed the door, and a hail of arrows flew at us. I cast my new shield spell while Al held his. We stopped the arrows together, but it cost me over 3,000 mana. We tried approaching the core, but a force field blocked us.
Mahya cursed in some language I didn’t recognize.
“Let me guess,” I said. “We need to go back and spring or clear all the traps we bypassed?”
They both nodded. Mahya looked pissed, and Al seemed gloomy.
“Do we need to spring them personally, or can we use magic?” I asked.
“I believe magic will suffice,” Al said. “As long as the traps activate, it should count.”
I shrugged and launched a wind blade at a wall. They followed my lead, and we hit the floor and walls with wind blades until all the spears fell.
We stored the spears, and I flew Mahya back to the starting point and then returned for Al. Rue trotted over, his ears perked. “Rue guard core,” he announced and settled for a nap.
“Sure, buddy. Whatever you say,” I replied with a grin.
We stood at the starting point of the dungeon.
“Ready?” I asked, raising my hand, eyes scanning the hallway.
Al and Mahya nodded, their faces set. We cast the wind blades, sending them slicing through the air. They slammed into the pressure plates, and spikes shot out from the walls, rattling loudly. After a few more casts, no more spikes appeared. The corridor now looked like a wrecked maze, worse than the city streets outside.
We collected all the spikes, and I flew them both over to the stairs, hovering just above the debris. We triggered all the dart traps, each one firing off in a quick burst. Unfortunately, one trigger set off a total collapse of the stairs, sending stones tumbling down in a noisy crash.
Al sighed, rubbing his temples. “Please collect all the darts for me,” he asked, his tone serious.
I tilted my head, giving him a curious look. “Why?”
“I want to study the poison,” he replied, inspecting a few lodged darts with a focused expression.
“Okay,” I said with a shrug and gathered the darts one by one.
We made our way to the core room again, activating the traps from afar, collecting all the trap components, and me carrying them over. The pits were a bust; they were too deep to collect anything from them, but the rest of the dungeon enriched us with spears, spikes, arrows, darts, and blades.
This time, there was nothing around the core.
“Looks like it worked,” Mahya said, relief softening her expression.
“About time,” I muttered, moving forward toward the core. “Let’s hope this thing gives us something good. If it gives me gold, I will use it as a soccer ball.”
I touched the core and received a crossbow. I inspected it and couldn’t find any runes on it or feel any embedded spells. At least it was pretty. The design was intricate—golden filigree wound around the frame, etched with swirling patterns that seemed to catch the light. Inlays of blue and turquoise stones accented the curves, giving it an almost regal look. The wood felt polished and sturdy, and the details on the grip made it comfortable to hold.
Identify only told me it was a crossbow. No shit, Sherlock.
“Well, it might not be enchanted, but it’s high-quality,” I muttered, running my fingers along the carvings. “Looks like someone put a lot of effort into making this thing.”
Mahya leaned in, studying the crossbow with a critical eye. “Functional art, maybe? Looks like something crafted for a noble’s collection rather than combat use.”
“Maybe,” I replied, testing the string. It felt taut, the tension perfect for a precise shot. “But it’s no good to me if it’s just decorative.”
Al tapped his chin. “Try firing a bolt. Sometimes these things have hidden mechanisms that activate under use.”
I shrugged and drew a bolt from my quiver, slotting it into place. “Worth a shot.”
I aimed at a distant target—a piece of broken stone on the far wall—and pulled the trigger. The crossbow’s mechanism worked smoothly, releasing the bolt with a soft thrum. The bolt sailed straight, hitting the target dead center. Nothing else happened; no flash of magic or burst of energy.
“Well, at least it’s accurate,” I said, lowering the crossbow. “Still better than gold coins.”
Mahya and Al each received identical crossbows, and even Rue got one. He stared at it and sent me a powerful wave of confusion.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll take it off your paws and trade you something good for it later.”
Mahya took the core and inspected the surroundings. There was no other exit. “Store the core and get dumped outside, or retrace our steps?”
“Store it,” Al and I said in unison.
“But let’s exit invisible,” I added.
The dungeon deposited us in the middle of slime territory. Although it was the middle of the night, I recognized the area immediately. No slimes were visible, but the place was familiar—this was where I collected all my “bait.”
Al got on my back, and we flew out of the city. When we landed near our hills, I said, “It was kinda fun.”
“Next time, monsters,” Rue said, his tail flicking. “Monsters easier.”