The Dungeon Without a System

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The Dungeon, Medea Island, Kalenic Sea

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As I deflected a probing strike from Instincts, I sent it yet another message. This is getting us nowhere. Surely you understand that? I insisted, once again trying for diplomacy. If we don't resolve this soon, we are going to die. Both of us.

The dungeon's original soul ignored my entreaties as it had all the others, completely and utterly.

When I'd named the other soul Instincts, it was a joke. Now though, I found it quite apt. The soul ignored every word I said to it, despite the fact it could understand every syllable. Growing up in my shadow had... more adverse effects than positive ones.

It was like putting a baby's mind in an adult's body. It almost had the power and ability I did, but without the experience and intelligence to use that power for anything but flailing around.

Case in point; I came up with new methods and techniques in our fight for supremacy over this enormous gemstone, but Instincts was quick to mimic me. We'd already moved on from the previous 'push against the other's mana' methods. I began experimenting almost immediately after returning from my short contact with Paragon.

While mana was easily manipulated by souls, It was only really good for pushing other mana around. Only souls could touch other souls, and so I had started lashing out through the mana at Instincts with my own soul, managing half-a-dozen hits before it managed to replicate my attack. Then I started mixing a thrust of mana in with my attacks, pushing it back further with every strike.

It mimicked me and started pushing back.

At this point, I realized that unless I found a way to destroy the other soul entirely or cripple it in some way, the stalemate we'd found ourselves in would continue until we both died in a crystalline explosion of continent-shattering proportions.

Yes, continent-destroying. I was confident that if I died, the space-expansion enchantment on the Eleventh would fail catastrophically, and you can't compress water. It would... be absolutely devastating to the planet.

I needed to figure out how to end this stalemate.

I had three-no. Four options.

The first is that I would somehow manage to kill the other soul. Which was near impossible, especially at my level of strength. Therefore, I decided to operate on the assumption that souls were immortal and killing one was impossible. This option wasn't one, considering that. I couldn't kill it, and it couldn't kill me.

The second option was using mana to force Instincts into the tip of my core and... break the tip off, with Instincts inside it. Even thinking about this option made my soul shiver. I instantly knew this was probably the worst idea I'd ever had. Nope. Bad Idea. BAD IDEA. Not an option. More than likely, the breaking of the crystal would cause a cascade that shattered the core, killing us both and everything else in the region.

My third option involved convincing Instincts to return to the previous status quo. Except now, we would be two distinct souls controlling a single dungeon, rather than one working and the second looking 'over my shoulder.' The idea has its advantages and disadvantages. Being two souls, we could focus on different things simultaneously, doubling our work speed. Given previous experience, we would frequently clash on design philosophy and our approach to human invaders. The biggest obstacle to this option was that neither of us would trust the other to keep our word, and I wasn't sure Instincts would agree to this option regardless.

The fourth option was an... amicable merger of our souls. It was entirely theoretical. I wasn't sure if it was possible, but absorbing Instincts into my soul would no doubt create a new being, an equal balance of us both. Again, this was something I was unsure was even possible. If souls are meant to be immortal, this would certainly count as a net loss in the number of souls in the world.

And thus, none of my options were viable. No. There had to be something. My mind raced, even as I deflected another blow from Instincts and sent back a cursory probe.

Then, I was reminded of my golems and the manabeings that inhabit them. Creatures of pure mana, living inside a manacrystal... If I could get a monster to bring me an empty manacore and place it against my core... I could push Instincts into it.

I haven't exactly performed a side-by-side comparison between my dungeon core and monster/human cores... Still, theoretically, they're both manacrystal that house the 'spark of life,' as I once put it. Given the reality of my situation, I'm sure it's been the souls of the guilders I could only glimpse a portion of before.

If it was possible... No souls would be destroyed. No cores would be shattered, and both of us would have cores of our own to occupy. I had no idea what introducing a dungeon core's soul into a monster's manacore would create, but it seemed the only solution.

Once again, I tried to contact it. This time I sent mental images of the consequences of it not listening. Listen to me! We ARE going to die if this keeps up. The core we're fighting in will shatter, and the dungeon will be destroyed! Given that neither of us can force the other into submission for long... I think I have a solution that leaves us both alive and in our own cores.

There was a few beats of silence... Then the soul responded.

Listening.

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The Seventh Floor, The Dungeon, Medea Island

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Auora Isirtine trudged through the mines of the seventh with the aura of one who considered themselves damned.

After two days out on the peak, it had taken a little while for her to find the path that led back to the entrance. She'd moved slowly, caution the foremost concern in her mind. She kept her eyes scanning the snowfields around her for the slightest hint of movement. Once or twice she thought she saw something, but whatever it was disappeared before she could get a second look. She checked rock faces and ledges for loose rock, saving her life on three occasions.

Even though she was leaving, the dungeon wanted her dead.

"And why wouldn't it," Aurora grumbled to herself.

Her mood was dismal, her morale gone. She felt betrayed, and though she hadn't been close to Hallmark or Xerat... Through one line or another, they were cousins. Family. Not much of a family, she had to admit.

She gritted her teeth as she thought of 'The Plan,' which had been explained to her only when Xerat had been loose-lipped enough to reveal its existence.

Hallmark had never intended on leaving the dungeon until he shattered it. While Xerat reluctantly followed the plan, Chana had been all-in from the beginning. She'd never intended to return the map she'd stolen. They planned to remain a floor or two ahead of the rest of the guilders, pushing on relentlessly, using the restricted wideawake potion to reduce their need to sleep.

She'd never know how they thought they could hide this from her. She could only assume they would have engineered a noble, or ignoble, death for her. Eventually, she'd have asked questions, and they'd have given her platitudes to assure her... then they would have struck.

With Chana dead, and Auora returning to the surface... Xerat was right. Their plan was in tatters, no matter how ill-weaved it had been. Perhaps because of it, actually.

She'd hoped Xerat would return with her and leave Hallmark to whatever fate he found for himself, but Hallmark held the water mage's strings tightly. One of the reasons he'd gone along with their plan in the first place, no doubt.

She was brought out of brooding when she noticed the tunnel she'd entered was already occupied.

To her astonishment, two groups were waiting in the large room she remembered as the entrance to the Seventh. One group comprised six lizard monsters, two of which she instantly recognized. One of the pickaxe wielders was the lizard among the first group they'd encountered, the one who'd called her party monsters. The second was the mage; It was pretty hard to forget being struck by lightning, and she'd caved in the skull of the monster standing before her. The other four she vaguely recognized as monsters that had faired decently against her in the last Guardian fight.

Next to them, but still entirely separate, was an eleven-strong raid group of guilders. Auroa remembered all eleven of them as belonging to the group that had delved the deepest beyond her and her once-party-mates.

"Auora Isirtine. I am here to charge you with multiple crimes against the Guild and to take you into custody. Will you return to the surface with us peacefully?" The woman blessed with manasight announced, her blindfolded eyes no doubt focused on the lone guilder. She thought the woman's name was Irid or something similar.

While she was confident in taking on up to three or four of these lower-power platinums by herself... Taking on eleven of them? Even with the majority recently assessed as worthy of the title, as tired and worn as she was, she didn't like her chances. Add to that the lizards and their familiarity with her style... Actually, speaking of the lizards.

"So the Guild consorts with monsters now?" Auora commented, eyes flicking between the lizards and the guilders.

"Consort is such a strong word, with many negative connotations," the lizard-mage interjected. Auora didn't flinch. She'd known for days that the monsters could speak. "Unlike you and your fellows, these fine guilders acknowledge we're people too. We have families and lives beyond defending our home. I have two sons among the current lot of Juveniles, and I am quite pleased with them." Auora could hear the pride in his voice.

"The Medea Island Guild has, indeed, recognized the sapience of certain species within the dungeon," 'Irid' admitted after the robed monster finished. "Beyond some basic and informal trade, we have not 'consorted' with any of the monsters in this dungeon. We have formalized no alliance with them," the woman glanced sideways at the monster. "We have no intention of halting delves, and I'm sure any true alliance would make that a non-negotiable condition. Am I correct?"

"You are," The monster nodded. It and its guard's gazes never drifted from their rigid fixation on Auora.

"You haven't answered my question, Auora," Isid reminded her. "Will you come quietly, or will we have to subdue you?"

Auora said nothing for a minute, worrying her lip slightly as she glanced over the assembled guilders and monsters. The longer the silence continued, the higher the tension in the room. Guilders and monsters alike began raising their weapons.

She sighed, her shoulders slumped, and she closed her eyes. If she was completely honest with herself... she'd decided as soon as she'd seen them. Slowly, Auora pulled her warhammer from her back and placed it, head-first, on the ground. With a gentle push, the handle fell, making a loud clack as it smacked the grey stone ground.

"I'll come quietly."

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Above the Second Peak, The Eighth Floor, The Dungeon

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Pyry gazed down at the insolent cockroach as he climbed down the other side of the peak with frustration in her eyes. Not only did he not have the decency to die properly in the blizzard, but he'd used a magical artifact to avoid his fate on the bridge.

From where she was flying near the cavern's roof, Pyry cursed to herself as the man came to the crossroad... and turned onto the longer path. While she would have more opportunities to arrange ambushes and airstrikes, he had more room to fight, dodge and avoid her gaze.

But, it would take him more than a day to cross the mountain going this way. That meant he would again have to cower within a cave like a wretch. They could cover all but one cave, and force him to use that one. They could set a trap inside, with the few snowbolds bonded to a respawn crystal lying in wait.

Pyry took the time to quickly visit the nearest snowbold village to relay this plan and information, as well as the human's current location so they could put some Ice Foxes on his trail. When she returned to the sky, he'd made it to a section of the path with a significantly sized overhang. Said overhang had thousands of icy stalactites hanging that she could use.

As he passed the center point of the overhang, Pyry dove. She flew parallel to the icicles, and with a flex of her ice magic, the icicles fell as she passed them. The human spotted her as soon as she dove into view and, seemed enraged at her appearance, drew his sword. This was the closest she'd ever been to him, and he looked just as disgusting as she'd expected.

His armor was heavily dented and tarnished, even sporting several holes. The temperature-regulating cape was tattered at the ends. As Pyry glanced at it, the glowing runes along the edges flickered briefly. His sword had several chips in the blade, but the enchantment seemed to be going strong if the intense glow the runes gave off was any indication. His helmet had, apparently, been abandoned at some point, freeing his long, wild, greasy-looking blond hair. His pupils were blown wide open, and his green irises were little more than thin rings.

"Fight me, you damned bird!" The fool all but screamed at her as she flew past. She scoffed in her head. As if.

Of course, she wouldn't fight him here. If he managed to make it to the Third peak and climbed up to her roost, they would do battle. Pyry doubted his chances of harming her without a ranged weapon. Though she couldn't dismiss the possibility he could have some enchanted weapon in his pouch that could strike or ground her somehow. He'd had an item to redirect her lightning, after all.

The Icicles fell, and the human raised his longsword to deflect them as Pyry flew off, then circled around to see the results of her work.

He was panting and had a thin icicle embedded in his shoulder. It had penetrated through a hole in the left pauldron and seemed painful, given how the man clenched at it. He fell to one knee and, with a pained shout, pulled the ice free. The human pulled a red-silver potion from his bag and emptied it. He was moving forward again in seconds, between and over the shattered icicles in his path.

Pyry shrieked, and though he didn't respond, she knew the human was stewing in impotent rage.

Good. The angrier he was, the more reckless he'd be. This would allow her opportunities to slow and hinder him, enraging him further.

Over the rest of that day, Pyry attacked another two times. Once, she triggered a small avalanche that buried him. Unfortunately, he managed to dig himself out and continued on his way. Another time she triggered a trap that collapsed vast chunks of a cliff onto the path. She'd been a bit too early, and he'd managed to dodge it by returning the way he came. Still, it'd taken out a fair amount of the path, and he'd been slowed further by climbing the unstable rocks that covered the way through that remained.

The great Thunderbird had managed to slow the human's progress enough that night fell just as he passed their prepared cave. Predictably, he ducked in as the winds began to howl.

Pyry herself returned to her roost. Her job was done. Now, it was up to the brave snowbolds who would confront the human when he was most vulnerable.

When he was asleep.

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Jhinat Military Port, Bahrain Empire, Hillia

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"Admiral!" the messenger exclaimed, bowing at the waist and holding out a scroll. "We've received a bird from the southern navy," he said as he straightened and stood at attention, waiting for a response.

Grand Admiral Almaanz Shakih, the overall commander of the Bahrain Empire's navy, took the scroll and quickly unfurled it. His eyes danced over the text, and he soon let out a low chuckle. Rolling it back up, he smirked with a vicious glint in his eyes.

"This is excellent news. Take these scrolls and send them to every captain in the fleet." He ordered, waving a hand at the wax-sealed scrolls on the table beside him. After collecting the scrolls, the messenger gave another bow and quickly left the room. Almaanz turned to face the other men in the room.

"My friends, It is time," he announced. The other admirals bore smiles of their own.

"The Invasion has begun."

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© Max Porteous, 2021