Sera - A Dungeon Revival LitRPG

Sera walked across the desolate landscape with Aermo following close behind. The beastkin observed their surroundings with curiosity and wariness. "What are we looking for exactly?" he asked, ears twitching as he looked around.

Sera squinted as she spotted a stone platform in the distance with a gray crystal hovering above it. "There."

The two approached the platform. Its weathered stone surface was etched with intricate runes that glowed faintly. The crystal above it hovered, spinning slowly and casting light on the ground below.

Aermo stepped onto the platform and tapped it with his foot a few times. "Is this supposed to do anything?"

Sera took a few measured steps back as she appraised the stone platform before her. "This is a dungeon teleportation platform, a remnant of the former artificial core. Now, kindly step aside. I intend to make a few improvements."

Aermo nodded and stepped off the platform and took one last curious glance at the structure. Sera, meanwhile, took a deep breath to center herself. She made a cut across both of her palms using the sharp end of her antlers, causing viscous sap to ooze from the wounds.

The elder dryad knelt down and pressed both of her hands firmly against the barren soil. Instantly, black roots surged from her palms and burrowed into the ground. The roots coiled around the stone platform, causing cracks to spread across its surface.

The roots continued to tighten their grip, squeezing with relentless force. Until finally, with a sharp, echoing snap, the crystal shattered into countless fragments that scattered across the platform.

But Sera's roots weren't finished, they then continued to break down the stone platform until it was reduced to nothing more than rubble. As the last remnants of the platform crumbled away, the black roots slithered back into the earth and left the ground bare.

Sera stood up as the black tendrils receded back into her palms and dissolved into her skin. The wounds on her hands knitted together seamlessly, healing in mere seconds. "Now, we wait."

For a good while, nothing happened. Aermo glanced around, brow furrowing in confusion. "Sorry, but, am I missing something here?"

Sera shot a sharp glare towards the beastkin. "Just wait."

Gradually, the ground beneath them crumbled, the vibrations subtle at first but steadily growing in intensity. Until suddenly, a brilliant green magic circle manifested on the ground where the platform once stood. Intricate runes pulsed with vibrant light, casting an ethereal glow across the space. The patterns spread outward from the center and waved together to form a web of glowing vines and leaves.

A silver-leafed flower grew rapidly in the middle of the circle. Its stem shot upward, twisting gracefully as it reached for the sky. The flower soon stood as tall as one's hips, its petals unfurling with a silvery glow.

Aermo stared at the scene. "What is this thing?"

"Stop asking questions and just follow me." Sera scoffed.

She stepped onto the magic circle, the glowing runes illuminating her path. Aermo hesitated for a moment, then followed her lead and stepped onto the platform with slight reluctance.

Soon, roots emerged from the ground, wrapping tightly around Aermo's legs. A detached, monotone voice echoed through the chamber.

Welcome, new user. The dungeon is currently in an inactive state. Please wait until further notice.

Aermo tensed, but before he could react further, a similar set of roots enveloped Sera. The voice spoke again, this time with a different message.

Welcome, administrator, unlocking all dungeon permissions now.

"Can you take us to the next floor?" Sera asked.

This action can be completed, but further movement beyond the next floor is restricted due to lack of data.

"That's fine, take us there." Sera said.

With that command, the magic circle beneath them glowed intensely. The air around them crackled with energy, the humming sound growing louder as the light intensified.

***

Only moments later, Sera and Aermo found themselves standing on a similar magic circle, its glowing runes fading into the darkness around them. Yet, the air was much cooler, carrying a damp chill that clung to their skin.

The only light came from the sparse remnants of torches lining the walls. Most were dark and lifeless, their metal sconces cold to the touch. Sera approached one of the torches, fingers brushing over the frigid surface. Recently extinguished mana-torches, likely sapped of their strength since I destroyed the original dungeon core.

Aermo looked around, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow. "Where are we?"

Sera's gaze swept over the shadowed corridors."We're on a new floor of the dungeon. This one appears to be some kind of maze."

Aermo's eyes narrowed, his muscles tensing instinctively. "I don't like this place, something doesn't feel right."

"Just stay close to me and keep calm."

They moved cautiously through the maze, the echoes of their footsteps the only sound in the eerie silence. The walls were close, and the path often narrowed, forcing them to walk single file. Sera led the way, occasionally touching the walls, feeling for any hidden traps or clues.

After what felt like hours, they reached a particularly narrow passageway. The walls seemed to close in, the rough stone brushing against Sera's shoulders as she squeezed through. She paused to check behind her to make sure that Aermo was still following. But she soon noticed how his footsteps were slower, and his breathing had grown noticeably heavier.

"You can't possibly be exhausted already."

"My bad, just... tired."

Sera stopped and turned to face the beastkin. "We need to keep moving, but if you need a moment—"

Aermo's legs buckled first, his knees hitting the hard ground with a dull thud. His body followed, crumpling into a motionless heap as if every ounce of strength had been sapped away in an instant.

Yet, Sera didn't rush to his side as her senses prickled with awareness, attuned to the faintest of disturbances in the air. Her gaze shifted as she looked throughout the labyrinth's darkened recesses.

A tiny movement caught her attention, something moving against Aermo's neck. She spotted a fly there, its wings catching the faint light in iridescent patterns. This insect is abnormal, born from magic rather than from biology.

As Sera took a slow step forward. The fly sensed her approach and took flight, vanishing deeper into the maze. When she knelt down to check on Aermo, she saw the lingering traces of magic on him like wisps hovering in the air. Demonic magic, very refined too. Its wielder must no doubt be very capable.

Sera rose to her feet, but as she pivoted, her eyes caught the fluttering movement of another fly rounding the corner before it darted away into the shadows. Her gaze sharpened as she realized that she was likely being watched or possibly tracked.

For now, she grasped Aermo by the shoulders and dragged him to a secluded corner. She positioned him carefully, ensuring he was well-hidden behind a protruding section of the wall.

Her fingers brushed against his neck, feeling for the steady rise and fall of his breath. Satisfied that he was still breathing steadily, she took a moment to gather her thoughts. The intruder is nearby.

She moved back through the maze quietly. Her fingers brushed against the rough stone, feeling the vibrations of the labyrinth around her.

Suddenly, Sera stopped as she heard the sound of armored boots striking the ground, accompanied by the murmur of voices. She pressed herself against the wall and listened intently as the sounds became more clear.

"Madam Zoha, isn't there a chance that the dungeon core just hasn't fully set in yet?" a masculine voice said.

"And there's no way anyone else but us knows about this dungeon anyway, it's too new," another voice added.

"Quiet down, there are other people here with us," a feminine voice spoke, her tone sharp and commanding.

Sera moved closer to the wall, seeing the faint light of torchlight growing brighter. She made a cut on her palm using the sharp end of her antlers as she inched herself closer, preparing for an inevitable confrontation.

The second she sensed that the group was close, Sera turned from the corner and unleashed dark tendrils from her palm. Each one shot out with deadly precision, impaling straight through the chests of the armored men in front of her. Their eyes widened in shock before the light faded from them as they collapsed to the ground.

While her tendrils retracted into her palm, Sera walked forward and observed the corpses with a scrutinizing gaze. The armored men lay sprawled on the cold stone floor, their lifeless eyes staring blankly into nothingness.

Sera knelt beside one of the fallen men, fingers brushing against the cold metal of his armor. She felt the rough texture of the chainmail beneath her fingertips to confirm its solidity. Then, she kicked a few of the bodies, their weight shifting with a sickening thud, but none of them flickered or dissolved. The bodies were real, their blood staining her feet as she moved. These are not illusions.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed behind her, breaking the silence. Sera's head whipped around, her senses on high alert, as a figure emerged from the shadows.

The woman was shrouded in a black hooded cloak that draped over her entire body, blending seamlessly with the darkness. White colored bandages wrapped around her from head to toe, leaving only her face and part of her upper neck exposed.

Her face was pale and almost ghostly, the skin so white it looked almost as if it were glowing faintly in the dim light. Her eyes were the most unnerving feature: hollow, pupil-less voids that stared unblinkingly. They were like bottomless pits, devoid of emotion or life.

Sera's fingers twitched, ready to summon her tendrils again if necessary. This one is dangerous, I need to plan my next moves as carefully as I can.

The woman's lips stretched into an unsettlingly wide smile. "I never expected that my next meal would be this delicious."

"Your arrogance truly astounds me, demon."

"It is not arrogance, just confidence."

The demoness charged towards Sera, her movements a blur of speed and aggression. In the blink of an eye, she closed the gap. The elder dryad barely had time to react before a searing pain shot through her. She gasped as she felt her arm being ripped off, sending pain coursing through her body.

Yet, Sera still managed to turn around and spotted the demoness, who had already started eating her arm with grotesque delight. The demoness bit into the flesh with razor-sharp teeth, black sap dribbling down her chin. Her eyes glinted with a sadistic pleasure as she consumed her prize.

Seeing this, Sera managed a smile despite the pain. Looks like it's my victory.

Black tendrils sprouted from the arm the demoness was eating, emerging swiftly and sinuously like serpents awakened from a deep slumber. They coiled around her body with astonishing speed, each tendril winding tighter and tighter as they wrapped around her torso, limbs, and neck. The more she fought, the tighter the tendrils squeezed.

Yet, suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of countless flies buzzing as the demoness's body collapsed into a swarm of flies. They then converged into a space nearby, coalescing into a single, grotesque form.

Gradually, the demoness re-formed into her true appearance. The first part of her body to reform was her hair, each strand shifting from a dark shadow to a bright, silken white, falling to her shoulders in a cascading wave.

Her eyes were next, followed by her limbs which were segmented and insectile. Each one covered in a pristine white carapace that glistened like polished ivory.

Large, black wings emerged from her back, the thin membranes between the veins shimmering faintly. The wings buzzed softly, emitting a low hum that resonated through the air.

The ornate black dress she wore appeared as if it were woven from the finest silk threads. The fabric flowed over her body with intricate patterns that appeared almost alive, shifting and changing with each movement.

The demoness stood before Sera with a cruel smile playing at the corners of her lips. "You are resilient, I'll give you that."

Black tendrils sprouted from the torn stump of Sera's arm, weaving together to reform the "muscles" that formed the arms before pale skin seamlessly covered the new limb. "I could say the same for you."

The demoness paced around lightly, segmented limbs moving with an eerie grace. "What are you really? I thought you were some new breed of elf at first, but that doesn't seem right."

Sera stood completely still, her eyes tracking the demoness's every movement. "I am what I am."

The demoness shook her head. "So be it." With a sudden motion, she vanished into a cloud of flies that dispersed throughout the area, filling the air with a frenzied buzzing.

Immediately, Sera closed her eyes, focusing intently to sense the demoness's presence among the chaotic swarm. With her senses heightened, she could feel even the faintest disturbances in the air. Eventually, she pivoted on her heel and spat out a seed into what initially looked like empty space.

The seed bumped into something mid-air and instantly sprouted into a series of silver-thorned vines. The vines grew rapidly, twisting and curling as they wrapped around an invisible form.

The demoness reappeared in the middle of the vines, her hollow eyes wide with anger. She gritted her teeth as the vines constricted around her, the sharp thorns digging into her segmented exoskeleton.

The demoness struggled, wings flapping furiously. "What in the world are these vines made out of?"

Sera took a few steps closer to the demoness. "Pure nature magic, perfect for containing beings made from magic such as yourself."

"You... you're a dryad."

"And you are a fool."

Sera then knelt down on one knee. "However, since I'm feeling generous. I'll give you two choices: die the most painful death you can imagine, or serve me."

The demoness's reaction was immediate and visceral. Her hollow eyes widened in stark terror, darting frantically as if searching for an escape that didn't exist. Her segmented fingers trembled, the joints clicking softly in her panic. "I-I will serve you, Mistress."

"A wise decision."

Sera stood up and made a deeper cut across her palm using her antlers. She then drizzled the thick, black blood around the demoness's body in a precise circle. With her other hand, she dipped her fingers into the black sap from her wounded hand and drew intricate runes and sigils around the ritual circle.

Once the ritual circle was finished, Sera stood up as the wound on her hand healed rapidly. "We are going to formalize our partnership with a contract, but first, tell me your name."

The demoness nodded meekly. "Zoha."

"And your true name?"

Zoha hesitated. She glanced around, as if the shadows might offer some form of escape. Her wings twitched, the faint buzzing a whisper of her internal conflict.

Sera's foot tapped impatiently against the cold stone floor, the sound sharp and echoing in the silence. "Your true name, now."

"I-it's Zohalyntharael."

"Good. Now, we can begin."

Sera stepped just outside the ritual circle and lifted her hand, a soft glow emanating from her fingertips as she traced an invisible line in the air. "The following stipulations constitute the terms of our contract: First, you are to conduct yourself in a manner that unwaveringly aligns with my best interests."

As she continued, Sera paced slowly around the perimeter of the circle. "Second," she said, pausing to look directly at Zoha, "you are expressly forbidden from intentionally causing harm to any entity or object that I deem valuable, unless explicitly instructed otherwise by myself."

She stopped and turned to face Zoha fully. "Lastly," Sera declared, extending her arm towards Zoha, palm up, "you shall obey and execute any command or directive issued by me, irrespective of the potential harm it may inflict upon you. Now, Zohalyntharael, do you accept these terms?"

Zoha hesitated again, causing Sera to tighten the hold of the vines, the thorns digging deeper into the demoness's segmented limbs. "Y-yes."

Sera clasped her hands together. "I, Sera, Scion of the Spirit Tree, bind you, Zohalyntharael, to this contract. You are to serve me faithfully and without question, for as long as I deem necessary. By my will, this contract is sealed."

The ritual circle glowed brightly as its radiant energy seeped into Zoha's body. The light mended every injury she had sustained. Cuts closed, bruises faded, and her strength returned.

As the ritual reached its climax, the vines that had held the demoness in place loosened. They retracted slowly, releasing their grip and sliding back into the ground. The sigils and runes etched into the circle flared with one final burst of light before burning themselves into her carapace.

Zoha stood still for a moment, her body pulsing with the remnants of the ritual's magic. She looked down at the marks on her skin, tracing the faint lines with awe. The ritual was complete, and the binding contract was now a part of her very being.

The demoness slowly got up and bowed her head deeply. "I'm at your service, Mistress."

Sera turned her back on the demoness, her gaze fixed ahead. "Grab your belongings, afterwards, follow me."

***

Sera and Zoha stood inside the Spirit Tree's chamber. The air was thick with the earthy scent of damp soil and the faint, sweet aroma of the silvery leaves.

Zoha knelt down, her fingers trembling slightly as she tentatively touched the sapling's leaves. The leaves glowed softly under her touch, their delicate edges catching the light and reflecting it like tiny mirrors. "Is this really the Spirit Tree, Mistress?"

Sera nodded as she stepped closer. "Unfortunately, that will be its state for the foreseeable future. You will be helping me in aiding its growth, Zoha."

The demoness stood up and bowed her head. "I'll do my best, Mistress."

Sera glanced at Aermo, who was sitting slumped against the wall, his chest rising and falling with slow, labored breaths. "Before that, what exactly did you do to him?"

"The beastkin? I injected him with venom, nothing lethal though. He should return to consciousness sooner or later. Shall I wake him now?"

"Leave him be for now. I wanted to ask you a few questions regardless."

"Of course, Mistress, what would you like to know?"

"First of all, where is this dungeon located?"

"The dungeon is located within the Kingdom of Lizeria, roughly around the outskirts."

Sera glanced at the neatly folded pile of clothes, bandages, and a small leather satchel behind Zoha. The items were arranged with meticulous care, the bandages wrapped tightly and the cloak draped smoothly over the bag. "I take it the bandages and cloak were part of your disguise?"

Zoha nodded. "They are. I've actually been living amongst humans for a long time. The disguise allowed me to move freely, to gather information and resources without raising suspicion."

"Did nobody ask questions about your eyes? Or why your body needed to be covered in bandages?"

"Actually, it wasn't that difficult to convince the humans that I had a rare illness. Besides, I rarely venture out during the day and always avoid crowded places."

"And why did you disguise yourself as an adventurer?"

"It's quite the useful profession. If you're high-ranking enough, people won't question you as much. And if you lose a party member or two during a difficult mission, it can all be chalked up to… unfortunate circumstances."

"Were those men with you part of your adventuring party?"

"No, Mistress, they were hired mercenaries I had planned on eating eventually."

"Were there any other mercenaries that came with you?"

"I had a few more on standby on the first floor."

"Excellent," Sera said, her lips curling into a slight smile. "Bring them and the ones I killed here, then return to standby on the first floor."

Zoha bowed her head in acknowledgment. "As you command, Mistress."