Panic was the only thing that I registered for several seconds.

I moved to the entry room to find out what the hell was going on.

Ten men and twelve women had entered the room. The men were spread out, dropping packs and looking around. Soon, two were lighting a fire. The men were armed with long daggers and a few swords. They were dressed in what looked like tough and rugged clothes. What stood out to me were the women. They were dressed in white dresses with flower embroidery and herded into a section next to the room’s cupboards.

I was very interested in these packs for new materials. I desired the one carried by the oldest man, whose beard and hair were grey/white with a bit of black. It had books!

The fact that they were shackled to each other made me pause my investigation.

“What is this?”

Watching them move around the room and the apparent split in the group, it is evident that this was not the “raid” I expected to find. I turned my attention to the roof and sensed the rain falling on it.

“Travellers, sheltering from a storm then. But why the shackled women?”

The question’s answer quickly became clear from my knowledge of Earth’s history. The men were a raiding group and the women were slaves/captives.

Larry was watching everything from the rafters, avoiding being noticed.

“Good idea, Larry. Stay hidden for now.”

At first, the men made no move to travel further into my Dungeon. According to the alert, I could gather my minions and flood the room.

“I would not kill all of them. No, that is too risky. Got to let the wine do its job if they find it.”

As my plans were to remain hidden for as long as possible, a direct fight would be nasty. There would be survivors and word would spread if they returned to whatever “civilisation” was out there.

“What about the women?”

Another complication.

Gather the first-floor wasps. That was the first thing that needed to be done. Like with Larry, instructions could be given and they gathered in the first room that held any of them. While this happened, I kept aware of what the intruders were doing. I had slowly become more used to my ability to “see” everything in my Dungeon’s influence.

It was apparent they were planning to stay the night and were preparing for some “entertainment”. It did not take a genius to figure out what that would be.

One of the younger men was looking through the cupboards and found my little surprise. The coins and bottle were quickly taken by an older man whom I assumed was the leader, as they called him captain.

“That bottle is truly a beautiful thing!”

The captain sent the boy who found it and another as a “punishment” to explore the rest of the building. Looking at them, I think they are between sixteen and eighteen at most. They lit two torches from the wall and headed to the tower’s base.

I listen to them as they decide what they will do.

“If there is anything else left, it will be in the basement.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. The basement is the best chance, anyway. It will be easier to look there first and then move up.”

“You lead the way then.”

“Why? Are you afraid?”

“No. Hurry up before the others eat everything!”

They continued bickering down the stairs. They were not expecting anything dangerous from their relaxed postures. They had not even drawn their weapons.

Watching them advance was stressful, as this was the first time anyone had made it this far. The wasps and the floor boss had gathered in the first room that was occupied and they were getting agitated. Their voices were echoing a bit. I had them crawl into position and not fly so as not to alert the two walking down the stairs.

“Got to keep them calm. Can’t have them attacking too soon!”

My attention was split between keeping the wasps controlled and the progress of the two young men. They walked down the corridor and into the room with the copper vein. Looking around the room, they ignored the vein or were unaware of it as they had yet to comment about it.

“Nothing here.”

“Look. Another doorway.”

“Yes, I see it. Let’s look.”

Their torches illuminated most of the room, but it still took a few seconds for them to make out the exit to the next corridor. The wasps were becoming harder to control with them so near now.

“Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.”

This corridor had a surprise with a pitfall trap. As soon as one stood on it, I will release the wasps. Barely containing my excitement, I watched them enter the corridor. The one leading had a buckler shield strapped to his arm, but his dagger was still in its sheath like the other.

“Come on. Just a little further.”

Each step they took was agony. They were so close!

As he walked forward, the boy’s left foot touched the fake stone covering. As he put his weight onto it, it went straight through.

“Aarghhhhhh!”

The painful scream filled the corridor and the wasps were freed to attack. The other boy was stunned by his companion’s cry and was not even close to being ready as the wasps streamed from the room to the corridor.

Inspecting the injury was revealing, to say the least. The foot had collapsed the thin stone covering and the flint-headed spikes had ripped right through his foot. Blood was pumping from it as he collapsed to his knees. His foot was pinned in place.

“Ilinia’s mercy, Help me.” The first cried out. The second moved up to start, too, but the roar of wasp wings caused him to look up. What he saw made his face turn white.

“Tan, protect me!”

“Not today, sunshine!” Cackling as my wasps swamped them. The floor boss was coming but had to crawl through the doorway as its wing span would not allow it through. “Wow! These wasps can climb around fast!”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The injured boy tried to defend himself, swiping at the wasps with his torch and buckler. He was trapped in place. The second just ran. The wasps split between them.

The bars appeared above all of the wasp’s heads as they entered combat. The injured boy put up a frantic defence, killing a wasp and injuring three others. Unlike the stories, the body of the dead wasp remained. His fate was sealed when he fell into the trap and died. I ignored the notifications but felt the essence rush.

The second ran into the next room and tripped over some debris, which had been left around to give the room that abandoned vibe. Dropping his torch, he looked for it. He reached out and grabbed it with his hand and returned to his feet. By that time, the wasps were on him.

He fought frantically like the first, swinging the torch as a weapon. The wasps were taking damage but were striking back as well. His reinforced clothing was blocking some of it. He was backpedalling and was saying…..

“Tan, protect me!” Over and over.

“I wonder who Tan is?” Watching as the floor boss, now in the room, took flight and attacked.

The other wasps scattered as the floor boss swept in. The boy was turning to face it but was not fast enough. It’s a much larger barbed stinger punching into his shoulder. He screamed in pain and dropped his torch as the other wasps swarmed again.

His death was of no interest to me as the essence rushed into my core. The other eight were now my priority. The next part of my plan was to instruct the wasps to gather at the stairwell.

The entry room was full of men frantically arming themselves. This was going to be more challenging and I might need to bring……

One of them fell over dead.

……….

Everyone else suddenly stopped and looked at the now-dead man.

“The wine. Hahahaha.”

Five more of the men quickly followed. The captain was clearly not doing well, but the oldest was still standing strong from not drinking. One woman was scrambling for something, the rest cowed by fear. The odds were now heavily in my favour, but I still needed to be smart.

The essence rush was intoxicating, but I had to focus.

“Larry, secure that bag.” The book satchel was my main priority at this time. Larry began moving as I sent him an image of him sitting on it and guarding it from being removed. Next, I will get the wasps up into the….

One of the women was stabbing the old man in the neck with a blade. His shocked expression would mirror my own if I had a face. He died drowning in his blood. His killer was covered in it. The man called the captain moved towards her but keeled over and died like the rest of his crew.

“Ok, what do I do with you, lot?” The women were freeing themselves as fast as they could. The one who had killed was ordering them to get weapons and supplies. Larry had been descending from the rafters and using his natural hiding abilities and was now sitting on the books.

“Good job, Larry.” The women were making to leave and had noticed him.

“Do I let them go?”

This was the big question. Two options were my answers. Killing all or most and gaining more essence or letting them go. If any escaped, my location may become known. The second option led to a possible reveal as well.

They are slaves who are seeking freedom.

They are food and a risk to me being discovered.

Slaves or Freedom.

Secrecy or discovery.

I thought over this and my previous life.

………..

I decided to let them go.

They were not here by choice. They were not seeking adventure or challenge. Sure, I could use the free essence to grow, but it did not sit right with me.

The violent woman got the women to leave now but stopped to get something else. She made to walk to the books but found Larry. She tried to scare him away, but he snarled at her. The wasps were an excellent incentive for her to leave, as I got them to buzz about having the sound echo up to the entry room.

She took one last look at the room before leaving into the night and from my vision.

Raid Alert!

Your Dungeon is being raided!

The raid has ended!

Result – VICTORY!

Your defences killed a total of 9 raiders.

………….

Minion room/floor restrictions have been restored and your Dungeon has been reset!

“Fuck!” The alert appeared in my vision, startling me.

“Hang on? What! No bonuses or rewards?”

No answer.

“God damn useless system!”

“Hold up! Why only nine?”

In the corner of my vision were numerous alerts; one was a level-up notification.

“Fuck yeah!………. But not yet. Got work to do first.”

Looking about, it was apparent I had to clear it up.

“Larry, take the bag to my core.” Images were sent explaining what I wanted. He hopped off and began dragging it away slowly.

The main doors were closed and locked. Checking the wasps, they were returning to their original rooms and new ones were spawning. Larry was managing to get the bag down the stairs with some issues. The dead wasps disappeared just before the new ones appeared.

“Good. Now the bodies.”

Absorbing them was easy. The women ransacked many supplies. The rest were absorbed, along with any remaining weapons. This included the bodies on the first floor. The blood was also removed and the entry room returned to its original state. The fire was left burning, but the firewood was replaced.

“Looking good.” I said to myself after I checked everything before turning to my notifications.

Alert!

A level 5 Human has died in your Dungeon.

A level 4 Human has died in your Dungeon.

A level 8 Human has died in your Dungeon.

A level 9 Human has died in your Dungeon.

A level 9 Human has died in your Dungeon.

A level 9 Human has died in your Dungeon.

A level 10 Human (River Raider) has died in your Dungeon.

A level 14 Human (River Sailor) has died in your Dungeon.

A level 21 Human (Raider Captain) has died in your Dungeon.

“River raider? Sailor? Captain? What the hell?” Ok, I was perplexed by this.

The stuff they left behind was nothing special. I got access to hemp rope (common) and what money they had on them was below the quality I already had. The food could have been more interesting. It was mainly a hard-tack biscuit designed to last on long voyages.

Overall, their weapons were of low quality. The only thing that stood out was every man’s Devnear Long Dagger. They were well made, rated as good quality by my system and a contender for my dungeon loot list.

Checking and clearing the other alerts was easy. There were notifications of injuries and deaths among my minions. The floor boss had gained essence from the fight and killing but not enough to achieve a level. The rest shared the essence from the kills they were involved in, but split between their numbers meant little overall.

The level-up alert was flashing, but I ignored it.

“Where’s Larry.” Got to distract myself.

I found him dragging the bag down the final steps to where my core was now hidden on the second level.

“Good work, Larry.”

He abandoned the bag at my core and retreated upstairs. I knew where he was heading, so I left the fire burning.

“Books! I wonder what we have.”

I absorbed the bag, leaving the three books in a pile on the floor. The book is leather-bound and well-made. Until the modern era of the printing press, books were expensive and treasured by the owners. Reading the first title as I absorbed it.

“The Paths of Ascension. Ok. No idea on this one, but let’s find out.”

Absorbing it caused a cascading torrent of information to slam into my mind.

“Fuck! That was painful.”

I knew new things.

The Paths of Ascension was a level instruction guide for the people of the Old Empire. Levelling in this world differed from how I did it in most respects. They used a cross-between cultivation and stat system. They absorbed essence by killing monsters/people or performing tasks. The more challenging or complex fight/task and success leads to more significant essence gains. It was possible to grind levels by repeating the same thing, but this led to diminishing returns.

After gaining a level or a step on the path, as they call it, they must meditate and focus the essence they have gathered into their bodies to improve the “stats” they want to increase. They don’t get the same notifications I do and “sense” when a new level is reached. They only share that they can see the three bars representing their health, stamina and Mana. So, they call levels steps; the further you walk along the path, the stronger you are. As with most things in life, you can change your path, but the system’s goal was ascension. Ascension to what it did not say.

“Ok, that makes sense to me.”

Talking about Mana, I now realise how much Oda screwed me even more. The locals have some affinities, but most have generic Mana that they funnel into spells. They use affinity mana more for enchantments on items/armour/weapons. As well as casting specialised spells.

“Damned motherfucker! Oda, you useless excuse for a God, you screwed me!”

Skills were gained by performing tasks and being recognised by the system for reaching the required criteria. They can be increased by grinding with repetition with diminishing returns or actions.

Classes were represented by (Raider Captain) and were gained at the tenth level, no tenth step as they call it. I need to get into the habit of thinking like the locals on this. Evolutions could happen at twenty and every ten above that, depending on the person’s actions.

“So, the last three kills had classes. Now I get it.”

Pissed was an understatement over the mana issue. Leaving the other two books for the moment, I opened the level-up alert and triggered it.

My vision twisted as I fell into my core and blackness.