The sound of a branch snapping underfoot disturbed the dark forest. The way around Durence was long and more than once they had to cut down old spiderwebs, but the creepy thing was there were no spiders big enough to make the webs to be found anywhere. It was like they all got up and died or ran away.

“You sure they were heading here,” a gruff man asked over one shoulder.

“Definitely. My contact in the Capital Bank told me they’re opening a special account for this backwards place. That only happens when there’s profit to be had. That means Dungeon or some new god,” a thinner man in leathers with a red bandanna around his neck said with a smile.

“And this place is what? A farming village, cattle... candlemakers?” the third member of their group asked with disdain.

“It was just listed as ‘village’ in the local records. It was likely some old Baron’s villa that got fobbed over to the local peasants to keep them happy and they built shacks around it or something,” the first man snorted, a massive battle axe slung over his back with his arms rippling muscles. His bald head has a nasty burn scar going down one ear.

“Great, another shitty place getting the red carpet treatment because some hellhole Dungeon spawned under it,” the third person, a woman with a staff that had three snakes intertwined together until they all led up to a red orb at the top. The woman wore a shimmering purple robe that had a massive slit going up the side and her heels should be unsuited for the forest, but little magical platforms appeared under her feet every time she took a step.

Their last member didn’t speak at all, but their form was hidden under a cloak, their bulk bulging at the seams while the book they held had yellowing pages with the symbol of two eyes on the front. One blue, the other yellow.

“Halt,” the first man said abruptly, causing the group to come to a dead stop as they listened. Far ahead of them, a man walked around with a jar, picking up mushrooms. His dress-robe was expensive and he looked to be some scholar.

“Hazhur... remove or ignore,” the man in leather asked, drawing a wicked long curving black blade that began to immediately drip the moment he removed it from his sheath.

“Ignore. We might need the town to use as an inn or info source. No need to burn bridges before we use them. Put your blade down, Karn,” Hazhur instructed and the other man looked massively displeased but did so, the dripping stopping the moment it was back in the sheath. The ground underneath them hissed from where the magic acid ate into the plants and roots in the soil.

“We could just blast down into the Dungeon, make our own entrance and just pretend it was always there?” the woman suggested as she stroked her snake-staff as it glowed with intense energy.

“Don’t bother. Taxman already mapped out the first floor and Dungeon’s don’t make new entrances so soon. Just find the damn entrance and get on with it, Estal,” Hazhur barked as the man in the distance vanished into the trees, his weird jar with him.

Estal sniffed but waved her staff about, creating a dome of light around the orb that showed flowing lines of wisp energy. They all watched it for a moment. Estal frowned, tapping the staff a few times.

“I’m getting strong mana influxes from the village, but that must be those Royal Knights. Those monsters... but the other mana signature is coming from the opposite direction and it's definitely not human,” Estal pointed to a series of streams that she prodded.

The streams moved around her finger, as if she was something unpleasant.

“Follow the orange lines and we find the filthy hole in the ground,” Estal said with smug superiority at her work. Hazhur longed to point out that a twenty-minute search or a marked map could do the same result but she would get into a snit and Estal in a snit was worse than a Flesh-Leech stuck on his family jewels.

The last member of the group merely watched in silence from their shadowed cowl, gloved hands gripping their book tighter. Together, they moved as one through the woods, eventually being led by Estal towards a clearing where the entrance to the Dungeon was hard to miss. It wasn’t the usual skull maw or glittering jewel affair.

“Those... who say forfeit may leave?” Hazhur muttered, reading the carved words in the arch above the door.

“Cute,” Karn said before he walked up the closed stone door, spinning the series of symbols on various rings with a frown.

“I hate puzzles,” he declared abruptly.

“Any guardians or Dungeon Protectors?” Hazhur asked the cloaked figure who shook their head after a moment. They gave Hazhur the creeps, but their ability to perceive things was unquestionable.

Karn pulled his knife out and buried it into the stone where it sank like he was stabbing butter. He slowly moved his hand around the ring as the stone bubbled and black acrid smoke filled the air.

Moments later he shoved with his shoulder and the puzzle slid inwards, letting Karn dig deeper until the whole door groaned, opening with juddering movements.

“Everyone loves a one-trick man who only knows how to penetrate,” Estal yawned, waving the smoke away as she walked down past Karn who scowled at her back. He moved aside to let the cloaked figure down next.

“Estal I can be paid to tolerate, but the creep is setting off every alarm I have,” he muttered to Hazhur who slowed before him.

“They’re not human, but that doesn’t matter,” he said back and nodded for Karn to guard the rear as he went down the next.

Hazhur took the last few steps in time to see Estal kicking tables over in disgust.

“Gifts... tributes? I hate pitiful things,” she scoffed as she slammed the base of her staff down, smashing the round clay bowls into pieces. Hazhur grabbed her wrist before she could use magic to do more damage.

“Get a grip. The act was cute when you were in school being taught how to wipe your ass, but down here, you do what I say,” he reminded and she glared at him, her skin crackling, burning his fingertips. Still, Hazhur didn’t let her wrist go or look away.

“Fine,” Estal said finally and wrenched her arm free to sulk over by a wall. If the damn woman wasn’t so talented, so damn useful? Hazhur would have taken someone else.

But blood was thicker and all that.

“Well, you’re all off to a great start,” a voice said, dripping with sarcasm. They all turned to the tunnel leading deeper as something floated there. A demure tiny girl with dragonfly wings.

“What the hell...?” Hazhur said but before there was any more sounds, Karn flashed past them then the next thing they all knew, his knife was buried deep into the floating creature’s stomach, the acid smoking as she croaked in surprise.

“First blood,” he said triumphantly. There was a hacking cough, the sound of someone trying to dislodge something in their throat.

“My first day... no, my first clients and this happens?!” the fairy screeched, her skin melting off in rage as she yanked the knife clean out of her body with annoyance.

“Must be some Rule-Bound creature. Karn, stop being so rude,” Estal said smugly as she walked forward, stepping on the remains of her childish temper-tantrum, spreading the wooden and clay mess.

“Little monster, do you speak riddles, must we guess your name?” Estal asked in a voice that was akin to speaking to a child. Hazhur would be worried, but he could see the thick layers of magical defences over her body. Even if Hazhur swung with everything he had? Estal would likely shrug it off with ease.

The woman was a prodigy in barrier magic. Karn liked to joke she was so good at it, no one could actually get close enough to see if she had any likeable qualities.

The fairy inhaled, half of its face fixing itself, but one side of her face was still an exposed black skull. Something about that made Hazhur frown.

Black skulls... why did that remind him of something?

“Riddle me this, Riddle me that,” the fairy began, face turning serene which only made Estal appear even more smug.

“How does one even fit in that dress when they’re so damn fat?” the fairy’s tone turned as acidic as Karn’s knife.

Twin barriers appeared without a word in the air, shimmering blue as they pressed in on the creature as Estal’s smirk turned strained.

“Cute,” she said and to everyone’s surprise the Fairy gave a frustrated cry and... dark energy leaked out, smashing the barriers before they could squish her. The fairy panted before smoothing down her dress.

“Good, that made it into this body. I thought I might only have sarcastic clapping and my charming words left,” she said gruffly.

“Last chance, you foolish humans who ignore the cries of their seeds. I am Mharia, the Fairy of this Dungeon. I am the only friend you will have down here and if you reject me... I will bathe in your tears,” she warned, skull-socket igniting with dark fire.

Stolen story; please report.

“Get lost. The day we accept such an obvious trap is the day we deserve to die,” Estal announced. Hazhur didn’t quite argue, he was too concerned about this whole thing to be fully against or for the idea.

Dungeons were... tricky things. Sometimes they were so simple in nature that people couldn’t help but look deeper for trickery.

Which was it here?

He risked a peek at the cloaked member.

They simply watched Mharia with a long look before turning their head to Estal and he could almost feel the disdain coming off them.

“I know of your order’s feelings, but know you must follow your code of honour,” he said quietly so only they would hear Hazhur.

They finally spoke and the sound of it made him grimace. It was like windpipes softly blowing in a way that sounded like words. A form of mana-speak that vibrated mana rather than air.

“I won’t harm her for her disrespect, but I can detest her in my heart all I wish,” they reminded.

Hazhur really wished these kinds of people weren’t rich or resourceful. The Order of Silver was a pain, no matter how simple the task was.

Those who hunted the Silver God.

“Bunch of Dungeon worshipping nuts,” Karn said as Mharia took them all in and her smile was coy.

“My... and I thought I had a chance. You lot are just oozing with confidence. I shall enjoy watching it crumble. But... don’t kill, don’t steal, don’t harm and you'll come up richer than rich, but act as you are? Well... I’ve always wanted to see ‘her’ go all out. I think she even held back against me somewhat,” the fairy mused, floating back down the tunnel, her form turning translucent.

There was a force of magic in the shape of a fist flung down the tunnel, going through the ghostly fairy as Estal scoffed.

Mharia’s giggles were loud, clear... and sinister.

“Well, that sounded like a challenge,” Karn said eagerly as the cloaked figure wandered over to some mockery of the dead, some ‘memorial’ hall. Hazhur didn’t give it a second look.

Estal cast a protective barrier on Karn as he walked down the hallway, looking for traps.

“Fungus... but at least it's pretty,” Estal said as she eyed the soft glowing mushrooms on the ceiling. Karn yelled as something sprung out at him. His knife buried itself into a pop-out signpost.

‘Jumpy... aren’t you? Don’t piss off the Dungeon. - Nu’

The sign attempted to suck the knife into the wall with it, but with a flick of his wrist, the dark jewel on the knife pommel glowed and the thing snapped back Karn’s hand like an eager pet.

“Men who spend all their cash and time into a single object are sad. Do you have a name for it when you sleep?” Estal said with a hand covering her mouth. Karn slowly stepped back without looking at her.

“Nick,” he said flatly.

“Enough, any traps beyond the signposts?” Hazhur asked as the Silver Order returned, head bowed and looking sorrowful, but... also moved. It just solidified Hazhur’s choice not to go into the memorial room.

After clearing the tunnel, they moved ahead around the bend as one until they saw Mharia lounging on a beautiful bush, the fruit growing succulent and ripe looking. They grew in the middle of a garden of webs, strands as long as rope and intricate as magic symbols covered the four walls, only leaving thin paths for people to move about.

“We’ve agreed on no challenges for you. You all... what was it that Nu said?” she mused to the ceiling before going on. “‘They’ve already courted death as far as the Dungeon deals it’. Sounds exciting, doesn’t it?” Mharia giggled.

Estal went to do something, likely blowing up a storm to tear the webs apart, but Karn stopped her.

“Easy now. You don’t kick tripwires for fun. Spider-webs are just nature’s tripwires with glue on top,” he said slowly and Estal looked ready to argue until she saw how Karn’s eyes were a little vacant as he took the room in.

“A trap?” Hazhur asked him, reading his axe in case of action.

“It’s a room full of web, mate. It’s a bit obvious it's a trap.” Karn reminded.

He moved slowly, moving carefully around some webs, testing others.

“Only some are sticky, we’re meant to walk the path and I think the webs could be a massive trap. If they go then the ceiling crushes us or maybe we’re locked in here with a dozen eyeball-eating critters!” he said with an annoyingly chipper voice. Hazhur was just glad he sheathed his acid knife before going web diving.

“Wow, afraid of spiders. Yeah, you all will get far,” Mharia said as she took another berry to snack on.

“Don’t you have children to scare and teeth to collect for chump change?” Estal called over with clear annoyance on her face.

“I’ll collect your teeth for free here and now...” Mharia muttered back to her around bites of her rather delicious looking berry. Following Karn’s excitable self, they navigated through the maze of webs. It was awkward passages and Estal accidentally found a real tripwire by falling over it, but nothing happened when she fell into the webs other than some painful screeching on her part.

Mharia was beside herself in gleeful laughter. She had a grudge against Estal rather than Karn which was strange since Karn had stabbed her but Estal was just rude at first. They left the room and Hazhur had the feeling they were a hair’s breadth away from meeting something else in that room...

Mharia was lurking around them, easily avoiding Estal’s swatting or the Silver Order’s almost religious petting. The hallways had the vibe of a natural cavern, the musty smell of water, earth, and something more potent filled the halls.

Hazhur could almost smell... ale.

He chalked that up to his desire to drink as Estal and Mharia bickered.

Mharia floated before a break in the path. A path going left, one going ahead, and one to the right.

The fairy looked darkly amused.

“Now, esteemed ‘guests’,” she said, voice dripping with abrupt noble disdain that made Hazhur uncomfortable and Estal’s cheeks to turn red in anger.

“Your choice is your own, but let me explain before you moan. To the left are humble collections with a merry time,” she held her hand to their left, “but I heard the entertainment is far more sublime,” she grinned suddenly.

“Must you rhyme?” Estal asked, stressing the question.

“Not at all, it’s not needed in the slightest. However it helps explain things to those that are not...” she trailed off, smiling down at Estal.

“The brightest,” she finished.

She pointed directly ahead as Hazhur stopped Estal from trying to clobber the fairy with her expensive staff.

“Under the stars and moon, take a breather, take a rest... you’ll catch a fish soon. Then again, once in a moon so blue... the fish catch you,” Mharia said with a slight twirl.

Then she pointed down the last path.

“That way has mud, it's good for your skin,” she said lightly and kicked her feet up to rest in the air.

“The last one is a trap. I bet it's either a dead end or a Floor Mini-boss,” Estal spat and Karn looked far too excited at that.

The Silver Order was tilting their head and pointed down the other way to ‘sublime times’ in eagerness.

“Which way takes us forward?” Hazhur asked, seeing how much the fairy would spill.

“All of them. Some further than others,” Mharia said breezily.

“Which is the safest?” Estal asked and Mharia opened one eye before her smile grew larger and larger until her face deformed into something demonic.

“Oh... they’re all so safe it's pathetic. But so is fire until you throw fuel on it,” she cackled and vanished. A silence lulled over them, except for the excited ruffles of the Silver Order tugging them to the left.

This Dungeon gave Hazhor an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

That didn’t happen too often.

Something was very off about this place.

Something very wrong.

---

Nu watched as Delta turned in a sort of restful peace. Between defeating Mharia, upgrading the third floor, choosing the fourth-floor theme, and dancing her heart out... Delta was out like a light.

However, Dungeon Cores did not sleep often. The fact Delta could and Nu became... more, meant that, as long as Nu was willing to take on the burden of being the sub-core 一 like some sort of receptionist really for Delta一 then the core could have days off.

Nu would hate to be a bother and wake her up for something as unimportant as fools. No, Delta deserved the sleep and Nu deserved some stress relief.

It all worked out in the end...

Mostly in Nu’s favour, but who was counting?