Aran rolled over with a groan as the last remaining Manta finally dissipated into motes of mana. His stamina was so utterly drained he only barely registered the ping from the System about them receiving the bonus reward, instead choosing to just lay there and revel in the joy of not having to move for the moment. He’d read the report by the investigation team lead by that Cleric discoverer, but hadn’t truly believed in his assessment of the level of danger until just now. After all, the investigation had managed to clear it with two freaking level 6’s in the party. To be fair they had one more member than he did, so he supposed it could maybe be said to even out. Maybe. Even still the way the dangers had been described for this first Floor had been too preposterous to believe, especially when compared to what the initial report from the Hallmaster had been. Changes that large just didn’t happen on Floors this low level, if ever.

Only in this case it seemed they had, and it was only thanks to Riya’s favorable Lightning element spells that they were even able to fight the bonus room encounter properly. A trait he was almost certain Noracin and his team didn’t have, considering Riya only got access to it at Tier 1 due to her Glyph.

How did they beat this? Was there some hidden mechanic? Maybe there was some puzzle that made the doors to the room open without having to fight the Mantas in the water that they ‘forgot’ to tell other people about?

Aran shook his head at that stupid thought. There was no way a Guild investigator would lie like that, and even if they tried it probably wouldn't even work. He knew better than most that there were Skills higher Tiered people could use to learn if you were lying. Some could even force you to tell the truth against your will, though he didn’t think the Guild used them. Or if they did they sure didn’t do it openly. A shiver ran up his spine as old memories forced their way back towards the surface, and he quickly forced them back down.

“Alright.” He said aloud, focusing on the present in an attempt to think of something, anything, else. “What’s the situation everyone? HMS?”

Troy was the first one to answer, starting with a groan. “Health at 111, Mana at 32. None stamina.”

Vin coughed a laugh as she sat up from her previously prone self. “That’s one way to say it. My situation is 167 Health, and 85 Mana.” She paused for a moment. “Stamina wise I’d call myself better off than Troy, but still pretty drained.”

“Of course you’re better off than me.” Troy said. “You’re built for running around and stuff, I’m not.”

Vin snorted and opened her mouth to reply, but Aran cut her off, sensing an imminent argument. “Guys, no fighting in the Dungeon. Riya, what about you? You were the main focus of the fight after all.”

The only answer he got was a groan and a thumbs down, which to be fair told Aran all he needed to know. He thought for a long second, then took a deep breath and spoke with a reluctant acceptance in his voice.

“Alright I’m calling it. We retreat. We’re in no condition to fight the Guardian, even if we spend some time resting before the fight. We need more than just to recover our Health.” He paused, then added. “We got the bonus reward at least, that’s something.”

He expected more annoyance and to have them argue, but surprisingly everyone seemed in grudging agreement with his decision. And if anything was a sign from above that they were in no condition to continue the Challenge, was this team all agreeing with each other about a lack of their own abilities.

***

I watched as the team trudged back the way they had come. They were the fifth party to enter since Noracin’s, and so far every one of them had given up either after the bonus room or at the latest upon reaching Stalker’s chamber and seeing her hanging there. Menacingly, it seemed. I suspected, both from my observations and from the Challenger’s conversations, that they had been warned of the dangers of my Floor before entering, and were taking things extra carefully. Every party so far had moved with extreme caution, and had been on high alert for my traps. Especially once they'd discovered that the traps would change sometimes. That had really caught the third party who entered off guard, causing the only fatality since the cheaters. Aran’s party had actually done pretty well for themselves up until the bonus room fight, but a poor initial strategy had drained their stamina well beyond what the fight should have taken. And they also had the sense to call it quits there and not push beyond their capabilities due to greed or foolhardiness. Them pushing themselves was good; that was why the Challenge was there in the first place. But there was a difference between undertaking a difficult Challenge with the intent of growing until you eventually managed to overcome it, and throwing your life away due to overconfidence. In fact I was getting more and more sure that was a large part of my purpose as a Dungeon; I wasn’t only supposed to Challenge people to help them grow, but the Challenge was also supposed to lure in those who were too greedy for power to the point that it impaired their judgement. Those were undeserving of the power they so desperately sought. I paused and frowned mentally.

…I’m not sure I would have thought like that even two days ago. The sentiment would probably be pretty similar, but I’m not sure I would’ve articulated it that way before. Since the Challenges started happening more frequently I could feel myself… expanding? No, that wasn’t quite correct. I knew expansion, and while this felt close it wasn’t the same. It was growth of some kind though, I was sure of it. What I wasn’t sure of was why it was happening. The only thing I could think was that it was due to there being more people entering than ever. Two parties a day, sometimes with only a few hours in between, made me much busier than I’d ever been before. Maybe being bombarded with many more perspectives and new experiences made Dungeons grow faster?

Whatever the reason, it was happening, and I didn’t seem to be able to change that. At least it didn’t seem harmful, in fact quite the opposite, though the experience still felt strange. I was thinking… more, in a way that was hard to describe. Maybe this was what growing up was like?

I shook myself and brought my mind back to the present. With the party leaving I had a few hours at least before the next ones walked in. By now I was pretty happy with the first Floor, having spent some time over the last few days working on the balance of the encounters and traps. But just sitting around doing nothing had proven to be too difficult for me. If there wasn’t an active Challenge, I felt the need to work on something. But since the Quest prohibited me from leveling, and I didn’t want to start the next Floor until I could do that, it left me with little choice than to make small changes to the design and layout of the Floors I already had. And with the first Floor being the only one that was being actively Challenged so far, it was naturally the only one I had any actual feedback to base any changes on. I didn’t change the major features; the locations and overall layout of the traps and encounters were left the same. But I did some tweaking on where each individual bat would be in Stalker's chamber and bonus room, as well as work on the levels of my creatures to make the encounter more interesting. I wasn’t under any illusion that what I did would make much of an actual difference during a Challenge though, I just wanted something to do, and just carving murals in stone got boring after a while. It was a strange feeling. Even though there were more people now, I was also more bored than ever. It was to the point where I was tempted to change the difficulty and lethality of my traps, just so I could get the damned Quest finished. All I had left were the defeated challengers and the rewards part, since for some stupid reason it only counted when they died or completed the actual Floor. If I just moved some more enemies into the Challenge room I was pretty sure I could finish the ‘defeating challengers’ portion on the next few Challenges, and it would also leave Stalker very vulnerable so any party that made it there would be able to finish the rewards section as well. Then I could finally get back to expanding and building again.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

…Of course I wouldn’t ever actually do that. It would undermine the very core of what I was trying to do, and what a Dungeon was supposed to be. Sometimes the thought still wormed itself into my mind though. Brought about by restlessness in the face of purposeless work. I had to think of some other way to distract myself. Perhaps Morrígan had some ideas. She always seemed to have an opinion on how the Challengers, or my creatures, had done after a Challenge, and some ideas of what I could do to improve for the next Challenge. I sent her a message while I waited for the time to pass by.

***

Katherine frowned at the report in her hands. Another party retreating after the main, or only encounter really, of the first Floor. Six parties had attempted the Floor now, and not one had succeeded in their Challenge. No one had even tried to fight the Guardian. Worse than that was that if the reports were to be believed the parties had been correct in their judgement to avoid that fight. She shook her head. She’d known this Dungeon was special, and special usually meant more dangerous, but even with her lower expectations they weren’t making progress as fast as she’d thought. She should have expected something like this to happen after Noracin’s report looked so different from what she’d experienced. It should have made it obvious to her that even her own initial assessment had been selling the Dungeon short, at least in terms of cognitive ability and a desire for change. At least he hadn’t changed much since the investigation, and he didn’t seem to be vindictively trying to make the Floor as deadly as possible, adapting to counter a strategy a party used to defeat it to try and catch the next Challengers off guard. In fact she thought he if anything seemed to encourage the formation of such strategies, though she wasn’t as wholly convinced about that as the Dungeon scholars were. Regardless though it meant the Floor was dangerous and difficult enough to have the Guild’s most experienced Tier 1 parties in the area stumped for several days without playing dirty, which was a much more notable feat than the other way around. It meant his tactics and designs were just naturally more dangerous and tricky to deal with than most Dungeons. She was sure her parties would get the hang of it eventually, they always did, but she was worried too many would die before that point, or it would take too long for the headquarters taste. It was a bit of a double edged sword; she wanted them to advance faster, but she was also keenly aware that it was due to her own advice that they were being extra cautious in their Challenges, thus resulting in the progression slowing down. It was frustrating, but something she had to accept if she wanted to preserve her adventurers' lives.

A knock at the door pulled her attention away from her thoughts, and she looked up.

"Come in." She said. The door opened and her assistant Yerin walked in with a frown on her face and a letter in her hands.

"What's the matter?" Katherine asked. The [Scribe] took a deep breath, then handed the letter over. Katherine scanned through the contents, then tsked as her face too contorted into a frown. It was a short letter that politely but firmly letting her know to expect a visit from Bishop Nicomedes and several parties of Order representatives to the Dungeon camp shortly. It even apologized for the short notice, and promised compensation for any amenities the Guild would have to use before the Order's own supplies arrived. She tossed the paper down atop the report with a frustrated shake of her head.

"How long do we have?" she asked.

"The message came this afternoon," Yerin said. "I had our people check the situation in town while it was transcribed, and they reported that a caravan of Order 'adventurers' left two days ago, but they didn't think much of it until the Bishop himself left this morning."

"The same time the message went out, no doubt." Katherine said. "The man wanted to leave us with as little time as possible to prepare. If he hurries he's going to arrive before nightfall."

"I figured that as well." Yerin said. "But what I don't get is why. Seems kind of a petty thing to do for not much benefit."

"Could be any number of different reasons with that old fox." Katherine said. "Maybe he wants us off balance for some reason. Maybe he wants us not to have enough time to send for a higher Tier representative from another city. Right now I'm the highest Tier here, but once Nicomedes gets here he'll be highest. That alone will provide him with some pull to try and get his way, regardless of the fact that the Guild has priority on the Dungeon for over a month." She shook her head. "Or he might just think it's a funny prank to come surprise us. Honestly I can't tell what he's thinking sometimes."

"So what do we do?" Yerin asked.

Katherine frowned in annoyance, then sighed. "What else can we do but prepare for the Bishop's arrival. Even if he's an annoying old man, he's still one of the most influential people west of the Kiari Mountains, and not someone we can treat poorly." She paused for a moment. "Send a message to the Alash City headquarters, let them know what the Order's doing, that they might try to impose on the Guild's new Dungeon during our priority time. If I know Hallmaster Raven at all, he won't just accept that without doing something about it." Not that he's much better than Nicomedes. She thought to herself.

"As you wish Hallmaster. Should I send for Samuel before I leave?" Yerin said. Katherine tapped her finger on her desk repeatedly.

"Probably for the best if you do." Katherine said reluctantly. "I'm not the most suitable for preparing a 'proper welcome', but you got to do what you got to do."

Yerin nodded and stepped outside, leaving Katherine alone with her papers once more. She looked down at the report from Aran again and let out a sad sigh. With the Order coming, they couldn't afford to be so careful in their Challenges anymore. Lack of progress meant a lack of influence, regardless of any supposed 'priority access'. And the winds of politics were fickle at best. She rested her head on the back of her chair and stared up at the ceiling. This was going to get very annoying, very soon, she could just feel it.