Cmyk remained perfectly still in the middle of the study, still gripping the letter sent to him. The moment he had received it, he knew that something was wrong. Nothing good came out of letters addressed to him. Ulf and his other friends never bothered, choosing to pass by in person instead. Scrolls and letters came with obligations—unrefusable suggestions at best, direct orders to do work at worst. This one combined the two, coming from the person he feared the most in the world.

Please come to the mansion at once and bring the gnome with you.

Spok d’Esprit

That was all that the message contained. It was short, direct, and with enough unspoken undertones to make him grab Switches by the neck and rush back to Rosewind.

Now, here he was standing five steps away from the spirit guide’s desk, fearful of what might happen.

“The detail is really impressive.” Switches adjusted his large glasses, looking at a painting on the wall. “You’ve really gone all out. I can almost not see the magic that went into making it. Do you have art aspirations?”

“Well,” Theo said in a bashful voice. Despite his previous life and the current situation of his avatar, he remained weak to certain types of flattery. And while direct compliments made him seem suspicious, complimenting his work put him in a far more favorable mood. “I dabble.”

“I knew a dungeon which was very into art. It would hire renowned sculptors just to copy their craft.” The gnome slid a finger along the painting frame. “It was a huge scandal. It later turned out that the dungeon was creating identical replicas of masterpieces and selling them under its own assumed name. I tell you people weren’t able to distinguish between the fakes and the real thing. It got so bad that a few guilds to together and hired a hero to—”

“I created the decorations,” Spok said from her desk in an icy tone. “That isn’t the reason I called you here.”

“Oh? Pity.” The gnome sighed. “So, what’s up? You want me to report on the flying golem?”

The moment Switches said that, several doors and windows in the building quietly closed shut.

“Flying golem?” Spok asked, leaning back like a headmistress just hearing an incriminating account from a delinquent student.

“You definitely know how to give me a challenge,” the gnome said with a smile, shaking a finger towards the wall. “Making anything substantial with the stuff you gave me was impossible, so I improvised.”

“Switches…” Theo attempted to interrupt, but the gnome wasn’t having it.

“I mean, sure, maybe I could make a walking set of armor, but that just wouldn’t do. So, I improvised.” Switches grinned. “Had to cut through the sections of the airship and get the mana core. Was bloody difficult. Cmyk helped a lot.”

“Oh? Cmyk helped, did he?” The spirit guide gave the minion a glance.

Feeling the pressure in the air, Cmyk glanced at the oblivious gnome. Right at this moment, he felt as guilty and annoyed as the dungeon.

“You bet!” Switches continued. “He’s really good at cutting through steel with sharp instruments. It was like the whole thing was made of butter.” He grinned widely. “I’d say that with that mana source, I’ll be able to make a whole fleet of gliders, not to mention a massive metal colossus. Just as instructed.”

“I see.” Spok took off her glasses, put them on the desk, then crossed her arms. As a spirit guide, she didn’t need to do any of that, but as she had found, this was a subtle way of making her displeasure clear. By the looks of it, it was working rather well. “That might be a topic for a later conversation, but it isn’t why I called you.”

“Oh?” The gnome’s ears perked up in curiosity. “Not my magnificent fleet of gliders?”

“The reason is that I’d like you to make something for me.”

“Ah.” Switches grinned again, then rushed to the desk. Due to his height, only the tips of his ears were visible, which was quickly fixed by him climbing onto the desk. “You saw my fliers, didn’t you? I—”

A loud crunching sound followed. Time froze. Everyone in the room remained quiet as Switches looked down. Half of Spok’s glasses stuck out from under his foot. The other half had been mercilessly crushed.

Only the gnome’s eyes moved, shifting their focus between the broken glasses and Spok.

“It was impossible not to notice.” The spirit guide reached into the air, where a new pair of glasses materialized. “In any event, I want you to construct me a device that would allow me to venture beyond the limits of the dungeon.”

“You’re leaving?!” Theo asked, almost in panic. In his previous life, he had seen employees quit. In his experience, it was nearly always the good ones that did so. It was always sudden and without any prior warning, although in retrospect, one would say that the warning signs were there.

Could spirit guides quit? Theo had no idea. Up to now he had been left with the impression that they couldn’t, which was why he kept on delegating responsibilities to Spok. If his assumption turned out to be wrong, that would change everything. Just thinking of all the things he’d have to do on his own made the dungeon’s consciousness spin. While one might argue that he was starting to get the hang of acting like a dungeon, there were all the social interactions that came with living in a town. Spok handled his correspondence, dealt with money, talked with people, and generally ensured that everything was as it should be. Not to mention that she had actual knowledge of the world and Theo’s capabilities. Without her, he wouldn’t be able to learn a new spell, let alone create new chambers.

“I’ll have to in order to check for cursed letters, sir,” Spok calmly replied. “As you requested.”

“Oh, of course.” The dungeon felt relieved.

“A spirit guide leaving the dungeon.” Switches sat on the desk, then started tapping his chin with a finger. “That’s a new one.”

“I’m sure. But as you’ve seen, nothing related to Theo is ordinary.”

“Does it have to be you? I mean, minions usually take care of that. They don’t have location limitations for the most part. It would be easy for you to take over their consciousness and—”

Both Cmyk and Spok pulled back, disgusted and terrified at the thought. Even Theo found the idea mind boggling. Having the lazy minion walking about town with the intellect of Spok was an abomination that wasn’t meant for any universe.

“No!” the spirit guide said firmly, before Theo had a chance to.

“No?” Switches appeared confused. “Well, I guess you could use a living tunnel, then. Just create a path or tunnel that moves anywhere you need to go. Not the most elegant solution, but it works.”

“Switches, the idea is for me to remain incognito,” the dungeon said in an annoyed voice. “I don’t want the entire town to know.”

“No one will suspect a thing!” the gnome insisted. “Trust me! You just add a sign that reads ‘Magic Tunnel’ and everyone will—”

“Are you an idiot?!” All the furniture in the room shook. “Creating a building out of thin air is one thing. Having a stone tunnel move about is completely different! Besides, how do I get into buildings that aren’t part of me? I’ll break them.”

“Not if you’re good at controlling the size and shape of the tunnel. Besides, if you break something, it’ll be the perfect excuse to ‘rebuild it,’” the gnome said, making air quotes.

“Oh, so I’m to secretly invade and replace the entire town now?” If Theo had arms, he’d have crossed them. Since he didn’t, the dungeon twisted the entire wall behind Spok in similar fashion.

“No one will notice. It wouldn’t be the first time a dungeon has done it. Besides, what are they going to say? ”

“The point,” Spok said, raising her voice slightly to end the bickering, “is for me to go where I want. If I can only meet people within a… magic tunnel, people might start asking questions.”

“Hmm.” The gnome scratched his ear. This wasn’t something he had considered.

“The reason for which I had you brought here was precisely because there are no convenient ways of achieving this. You claim to be a genius, after all,” the spirit guide noted reluctantly. “Can you do it?”

“I have to think. It goes against a fundamental rule of nature. It’s impressive enough that you have an avatar…”

“As Theodor would say, money is no object. All that is required is that you do it fast.”

The latter was a given. Dungeons always wanted everything done yesterday, except when it came to covering their daily upkeep. Now, there were two challenges he had to deal with. On the other hand, if Switches were to do a favor for Spok, it was all but guaranteed that he’d get the job as a dungeon gnome. From a certain angle, this was a golden opportunity.

“I’ll need a few things from your main body.” Switches turned to the wall.

“Fine,” Theo grumbled.

“And a quick way in and out of my workshop.”

“I can’t make portals in my condition! Cmyk will carry you.”

“Works for me!”

“Anything else?” Spok adjusted her second pair of glasses.

“Gold.” Switches nodded. “As pure as possible. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Several stacks of glowing gold coins appeared on the desk next to the gnome. All of them were a result of Cmyk’s work and one of the best crops of hay from Theo’s underground gardens.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“Will that be enough?”

“Ooooh, glow gold!” The gnome snatched a coin and carefully started examining it. “Yeah, it’ll do great.” He stood up, then leapt off the desk. “Get that to my workshop. What’s the way to the underground tunnels? I must—”

Before he could finish, a hole emerged beneath his feet, starting the process of sliding him to Theo’s underground sections. A few seconds later, the hole disappeared, returning the room to its usual state.

“Was that a wise decision, sir?” Spok asked.

“He’ll be fine. He survived worse.”

“That’s not the issue, sir. Having a maniacal gnome roam within you is… daring, let’s say.”

“It’ll be fine. What can he do? Besides, if he tries anything, I won’t make that lab he’s been raving about.”

It made sense, though both Spok and the dungeon kept an eye on the gnome at all times. Theo, though, was somewhat distracted. Back in the cursed estate, his avatar and the group had shifted from fighting to running.

The skeletal minions, while an abundant source of core points, appeared to be never ending. That was one of the effects of Memoria’s tomb. Destroying them only meant that another batch would appear not too long after and continue from where the last one had ended. It didn’t help that the entities seemed to learn from their mistakes.

The new batch was in full metal armor, faster, stronger, and a lot more cautious when it came to direct combat. Liandra and Theo were still capable of dispatching them, but it was getting more and more difficult. According to the heroine, the minions didn’t have a lot more to go when it came to skill, but even if that remained their level, they were bound to overwhelm the group at some point.

“Are you sure this is the right direction?” Liandra asked.

They had been following the avatar’s directions up till now, with no indication they were getting anywhere closer to the tomb’s center. As far as anyone could tell, their surroundings seemed no different from those they had appeared in. The walls and floors had an identical material and texture, the corridors, platforms, and stairways continued in all directions, and even the torches seemed the same. And yet, Theo was certain they had gone through miles of the maze so far. Not only that, but he had used his flame scrying ability to explore even more.

“Definitely,” he lied, without a moment’s hesitation.

The woman looked at him with an if-you-say-so expression but said nothing.

“Anything else you know about the Memoria thing?” Theo asked, in hope.

“You should know more than me. It’s magic.”

“Mage towers are very strict when it comes to proprietary spells,” he lied again. “That’s why I don’t discuss why my home just appeared on an empty patch of land.”

“That makes sense.”

The dungeon was just guessing, of course, but given what he had seen of this world already, he wouldn’t put it beyond the mage towers to act like corporations. For all he knew, there might be a magic patent office in which spells were carefully patented for one reason or another.

A loud squawking sound filled the air again. The griffin was getting more and more annoying, though in this case, no one could fault him. The simple truth was that everyone, with the exception of Theo’s avatar, was getting thirsty and hungry.

“Hey, hey.” Avid kept on petting the creature’s side in an attempt to calm him down. “Don’t be like that. We’ll find food soon.”

“Is it a good idea to promise him that?” Amelia asked. Even so, she joined in, ruffling Octavian’s feathers. “He’s not stupid.”

“We’ll find food,” Avid repeated, not just for the benefit of the creature. “We’ll defeat the abomination and get out of here. Then we’ll have all the food we wanted.”

“Can’t you just make a magic tunnel or something?” Amelia turned to the avatar. “It’ll be a lot faster than flying through the maze.”

“My mana isn’t infinite,” the baron snapped. In truth, he faced a far greater problem.

For one reason or another, his room-shaping skills refused to work. Probably this was an unconventional space. He was still able to perform minor changes, but even those were getting less and less noticeable, as if the maze was adapting to his efforts.

“Spok,” the dungeon said back in its main body. “Do you know anything more about that Memoria thing?”

“Nothing more that would be helpful, sir.” The spirit guide braced herself. There was a nine out of ten chance that Theo had something in mind—something that she and every sane person would disapprove of.

“And it’s strong enough to keep an abomination locked up?”

“By the looks of it, not very well. If it was adequate, there wouldn’t be—”

“I mean, the abomination must be still here, right?”

“Theoretically speaking, I would assume so. Containment spells have conditions attached. Unless it’s a pocket dimension spell, like your ring.”

That was a rather good point. Unwilling to leave everything to chance, the avatar cast an arcane identify spell.

MEMORIA’S TOMB

(Memory Prison)

A powerful binding spell created out of memories. The spell has the power to imprison any entity for eternity, draining the energy from its captive.

WARNING! Memoria’s Tomb current captives exceed the spell’s original occupants.

“So,” the dungeon continued. “The trap was made for the abomination. If the influence of the abomination has leaked through, maybe we can use that crack to escape?”

Spok blinked.

“That’s a rather good argument, sir,” she had to admit. “It’s completely mistaken, but it’s a good argument. All of you have physical form. The influence abominations exert aren’t physical. It’s similar to the fear spell you cast at your previous location. Potentially, you might use it to send a call for help, but you’re doing that already. Besides, that will only attract the attention of more heroes and adventurers.”

Sadly, she had a point.

“What about the opposite, then? If the abomination’s here, can we track it down using its influence?”

Once again, the spirit guide remained speechless, as if struck by blessed lightning. It had taken a while for the dungeon to reach the stage of absurdity—quite a bit longer than usual—but ultimately, he had reached it, as always.

“You want to find an abomination by following its corruptive influence, sir?” she asked, just to make sure she had understood correctly.

“It’s not like I’ve got a lot of options, Spok. We can’t escape while it’s alive, and we can’t stay here. The best bet is to get to it and—”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned it a few times already, sir,” Spok interrupted. Her actual answer, however, required a bit of thought. “Following the influence isn’t like following a scent, sir. People affected by it are drawn to it and that in itself poses a risk. By approaching it, you risk getting corrupted faster, which defeats the purpose.”

“Spok…”

“If you insist, sir, the only way I can think of is to use someone as bait. You are out of the question, naturally, and I suspect so is Liandra due to her hero trait. That leaves…”

“The kids,” Theo finished the sentence.

As much as he believed himself to be a heartless mass of stone occupying half the town, he couldn’t just put any of the adventurers through this. If any of them got opened to corruption, there might be no turning back. In a best-case scenario, they’d become like the scores of puppets that had greeted them in the ballroom earlier. Even Octavian didn’t deserve to be used as bait. The bird had its faults—and from the point of view of Theo, there were many indeed—but even it had a tendency to grow on people.

“You’re not thinking of doing that, are you, sir?” the spirit guide asked.

“Thank you, Spok,” the dungeon said. “Let me not keep you from your work.”

For better or worse, a decision was made. Now it remained to be seen whether he could go through with it.

Back in Memoria’s Tomb, the avatar took a few steps to the nearest archway. A series of steps continued onwards, leading to a winding staircase as well as a corridor to a stone doorway.

“Liandra,” he said. “Can you come here for a moment?”

The marked tension in his voice was obvious to everyone.

Without a word, the heroine joined him, about thirty feet away from the rest of the group.

“Do you happen to have a chain or a piece of rope?” he whispered. “Or cord?”

“I have a chain. Why?”

The avatar didn’t answer immediately. The plan was logical. Objectively, it was the best option for everyone. As much as Theo hated the reasoning from his previous life, it had come down to a numbers game. Sacrifice one so that the rest might have a chance. Then again, it wasn’t a guaranteed sacrifice. Maybe the person could withstand the corruption until the abomination was destroyed? Or even if not, they could get restored afterwards? Paris owned him a favor or two. Once she returned, he could ask her for a divine blessing.

Since when have I become so sentimental? Theo asked himself.

“We must find the abomination in the next six hours,” he continued. “After that, we won’t have the strength.”

“Two,” Liandra corrected. “They are already exhausted, but just don’t want to show it. You’ve definitely made an impression on them.”

The last was meant as a compliment, but it rendered the dungeon furious instead. If they had simply said so, he wouldn’t have dragged them in search of the vault.

“Seems that I have,” he said with the worst fake smile possible. “Point is, we don’t have many options and a lot of time.” He paused again. “I think I have found a way out.”

“I never doubted it for a minute.” Liandra shook her head with a smile.

“It isn’t guaranteed and a bit controversial…”

“I thought so. So, what is it?”

“I’ll need the cursed ring,” the avatar began. “And a chain…”

In his mind, the dungeon aimed to tie the end of a long chain, or rope, round one of the kids’ waists, then use the ring to corrupt them enough so they could lead the rest of the group to the hidden abomination. Liandra, though, understood something completely different. Before the baron could continue, she took off a small gold chain from her neck, then retrieved the ruby ring from her pouch.

“Err, when I said chain, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine.” Liandra placed the ring on the chain. “My grandfather would have approved of me using it to destroy an abomination.”

“Right.” He looked at the chain. This was not at all what he had in mind. “Now, all we need to do is…” his words trailed off as the ring suddenly pulled away in a certain direction, as if attracted by a giant invisible magnet.

“It’s reacting,” Liandra said. Cautiously, she moved the chain around. No matter what, the ring would always pull in one specific direction. “You used the curse of the ring to turn it into an abomination compass,” she added. “With this, we can get to the heart in less than an hour.”

“That’s precisely what I was thinking. I just didn’t want to get everyone’s hopes up, in case it turned out wrong.”

“Theo, you really should have more confidence in your abilities.” Liandra gave him a tap on the shoulder. “You’re being too much of a mage. Don’t worry, though. I’ll make you a hero yet.”

The dungeon could cry through the smile.

“Let’s just get to it before more skeletons pop out,” he said.

Without delay, the heroine gave Theo the ring, then went to get the rest of the group ready. The glimmer of hope seemed to have the desired effect. Even Octavian stopped his usual complaining and eagerly flapped his wings. One could call it almost impressive if the griffin hadn’t been relying on Theo’s magic to fly through the maze of the prison tomb. That was probably the greatest downside royal griffins had: their high intellect made them extremely pampered. The person who had come up with the name had probably done so because they behaved like royalty, expecting everyone else to serve them.

A few minutes later, the hunt was on. Surrounded by spherical fireballs, Baron d’Argent and his group—located in their own aether spheres—flew through the three-dimensional maze that was Memoria’s tomb at great speed. Any skeletons that emerged were quickly ignored, even if more often than not seeing all the potential core points go down the drain caused physical pain to the dungeon. Still, he had to keep his eyes on the prize. With luck, the abomination would drop something as potent as a demon lord core. Then, he’d be able to convince Liandra to use her single hero scroll and send it to his main body, where he’d consume it to gain some much-needed core points.

Yet, there was something that troubled Theo. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was very wrong.

“Liandra.” He glanced to the side. “Do you feel anything strange?”

“Everything looks fine. There aren’t any signs of corruption as far as I can see.” She turned around. “Any of you feeling strange cravings?”

“Nope,” Amelia immediately replied.

“Nuh-uh.” Ulf shook his head.

“I’m not sure,” Avid said, giving his usual hesitant answer.

“It’s not them, it’s…” Theo frowned. “I feel like we’re forgetting something.”

“Collector’s syndrome,” Liandra explained. “Probably you’re upset that we didn’t get to kill all the skeletons the way here. It’s normal. It’ll pass once we get out of here.”

“No, that’s not it. I… never mind.”

The further they flew, the more their options diminished. Soon enough it felt like they were following a single twisting corridor that kept going on and on and on… until they finally reached their destination—a single archway with two hero statues placed on both sides.

Immediately, the avatar brought the entire group to a stop. The ring was pulling away so intently that it was parallel to the floor. There could be no doubt any longer—they had arrived.