The Impeccable Adventure of the Reluctant Dungeon

“Sir, I might have spoken too soon…”

These weren’t the sort or words anyone wanted to hear, let alone say. This couldn’t be truer for Spok. The spirit guide prided herself on being always available for assistance regardless of the circumstances. The entire purpose of her existence was based on that. The deities themselves had determined that every dungeon should be provided a spirit guide upon birth. Some might even call it an auxiliary existence. Normally, a spirit guide had no other purpose other than the survival and prosperity of their dungeon.

Having an avatar had significantly changed that. Even before her series of minor distractions, Spok had caught herself considering things that she never had before: the apparel she would wear, the people she wanted to have longer—or shorter—conversations with, the welfare of small—or large—cuddly animals. It was almost as if her avatar had come with a new series of needs and wants that were becoming just as important as the ones she had been created with.

In this particular instance, Spok felt a slight sensation of guilt and, even more surprisingly, concern. As a spirit guide, the only concern was supposed to be related to the destruction of her dungeon. Yet, the greater concern was as Rosewind being torn apart.

“Halt!” a voice sharply said.

At the far end of the entrance hallway, stood a knight clad in armor. A full helmet covered his face, although instead of a weapon, the man held a torch.

“What’s your business here?” the knight asked.

“Captain Ribbons,” Spok said with undertones of authority in her voice. “I’m here to have an audience with the earl.” She adjusted her glasses. “Of course.”

“The earl won’t be having any visitors,” the man said firmly. “I’m sorry, miss d’Esprit.”

“Let me talk to him!” Theo grumbled from Spok’s necklace. “Can you hear me, Ribbons?!”

“It is a matter of highest importance requested by Baron d’Argent,” Spok took a step forward. “He’s a member of the inner council, if you remember, and I’m here on his behalf.”

The remark had an instant effect. Being captain of the guard came with a lot of benefits. Mouthing out to determined nobles wasn’t one of them. If Ribbons had been dealing with the baron, he’d have put in enough weight to discourage the noble from proceeding. Spok, on the other hand, wasn’t someone he wanted to go against, not least because from what he had remarked, even Cmyk was careful around her.

“Thank you.” The spirit guide correctly interrupted the man’s silence. “Where’s the earl?”

“I must make sure you don’t have any letters.” The captain of the guard didn’t relent completely. “I cannot risk—”

“How very thoughtful of you, Captain,” a new voice said, as the earl emerged on the scene. He, too, was wearing a full helmet which clashed with his very expensive and entirely civilian clothes. “Splendid vigilance. There’s no need to worry. The baron is an exceptional wizard, as is miss d’Esprit.”

“I do not doubt that, sir,” Ribbons said, with the intonation that suggested the opposite. “But considering what is going on outside, I—”

“Splendid. Absolutely splendid.” The earl rubbed his hands. “Please continue the exceptional job you’re doing. Knowing you’re on the task makes me feel safe.”

Even Spok had to admire the manner in which Earl Rosewind managed to get his point through. There were no threats, not even implicit ones. He just drowned people with a combination of praise, compliments, and confusion, disarming them to the point that they couldn’t but do what he had in mind.

“Yes, sir, my lord.” Ribbons nodded. “I’ll make sure all the rooms are secure, sir.”

With a salute and a bow, the man went off along one of the side corridors of the main hallway.

“You’ll have to forgive him,” the earl said in an apologetic tone of voice. “He means well, but sometimes he could get a bit too obsessed with his job.”

“Of course, my lord.” Spok said with an acceptable curtsey. “The baron and I are relieved that you’re well.”

“Well, I can’t say the situation is without concern. Honestly… zombie letters?” he shook his head, causing the helmet almost to wobble. “I thought that only occurred in stories. Good thing my grandfather isn’t here now. He drove my father crazy. Refused to accept any letters in the castle.”

“He must have had his reasons.”

“I’m sure. Probably hiding from debt collectors,” the earl let out a chuckle. “That’s a joke, of course. In truth I never did find out why he was so afraid of them. He did have lots of full helmets made, so maybe he knew something after all. I take it the baron’s doing something on the matter?” he seamlessly changed the topic. “That’s why you’re here, I take it?”

“Precisely, my lord. After his ordeal, the baron feared that something similar might happen to others in Rosewind, which is why he sent me to discreetly check on the members of the council.”

“Ah, that noble quest.” The earl shook his head again. “Dreadful business. I must confess standards are slipping. There was a time when any such attempts would have been caught long before they got anywhere near an adventurer’s guild. And now? A cursed noble quest.”

Spok didn’t respond. Her knowledge on the matter was a lot less than she preferred it to be, but even if it wasn’t, she didn’t feel like nodding on to his comments. He probably had enough people doing that all day already.

“Might I ask what happened to your servants?” she asked instead.

“Oh, that. Well, it’s a rather long story. Might I suggest we continue it in my chambers? Not that I don’t trust Ribbons, but I would prefer not to keep you in this section of the castle longer than I have to.”

“I’d be delighted, my lord, but there’s no need to be concerned. I’ve acquired a few skills from the baron.” Spock gracefully used telekinesis to take out the handkerchief from the earl’s sleeve, fold it midair, then place it on the palm of her hand. “There’s no reason for you to keep your protection on, sir.” She offered him his handkerchief back. “Not while I’m around.”

There was a split second of hesitation. Most wouldn’t have even noticed, but Spok had been created to be fast and observant. From her perspective, the pause might as well have been a gasp.

The odds of Earl Rosewind taking her at her word were ten to one. Remarkably, the noble went against them, slowly pulling the massive helmet off. Layers of sweat covered his face and part of his hair, suggesting that he had worn it for a considerable time, none of it comfortable.

“You’re an honest gem, my good lady,” he said, taking his handkerchief from Spok’s hand and delicately mopping off the sweat from his forehead. “As useful as the helmet was, my grandfather wasn’t known for his practicality or fashion.” The earl then offered his elbow to the woman. “Shall we?”

“Umm,” it was Spok’s turn to display hesitation. Etiquette strictly forbade someone of her status to act in a familiar fashion with a member of the high nobility. Then again, etiquette was only broken if there was someone to see it. “Of course, my lord.”

“Splendid,” the earl offered a warm smile. Then, once Spok had taken hold of his arm, led them towards the second floor. “Regarding my missing servants. I’m sure they’re diligent and dependable in their own way, but when it comes to nosiness and gossip, some of them tend to get a bit carried away…”

While Theo’s spirit guide seemed to be having a far more pleasant experience with the earl than originally foreseen, the dungeon’s avatar was spending his time going through bone remains in the dark, cursed underground in search of cores. Had he been the one to have killed the three bone amalgamations, he would have earned a total of six thousand avatar core points. Unfortunately, that did not hold true if the death had been caused by the abomination itself. At best, the entity had shattered their cores, at worst, it had consumed them itself. Either option made Theo rage inside.

“Found anything?” Liandra approached the baron, glancing at the crushed remains.

“I think she used the blood to squeeze them to their shattering point,” the avatar replied. Officially, he was examining the remains for clues as to the abomination’s skills. “It’s safe to assume that we’ll need to avoid even a thin layer of blood. Meaning—” he glanced at the crimson carpet “—we’ll be flying at least three feet above it.”

“Good point.”

“Other than that…” the avatar shrugged. “There isn’t much left to reach any conclusions.”

“That’s fine. At least we won’t make things easy for it.”

Casting a flight spell on both of them, the avatar rose up in the air along with the heroine. The next thing he did was surround each in an aether bubble.

“Since she’s invited us, I’ll fly us right there.” He turned to the woman. “I’ll move us quite fast, so better be ready.”

“I’m used to your flying, remember?” Liandra smirked. “I’ll be up to it.”

“One more thing. Let me handle any skeletons along the way. I don’t want you to get distracted before we reach Agonia.”

In truth, all he was aiming for was to acquire all potential experience for himself. The fashion in which he phrased it, though, made it seem that he was concerned about her. What was more, he appeared to be thinking several moves ahead, planning several potential outcomes long before they took place.

Liandra’s expression hardened. “Don’t worry. I’ll be ready. One strike is all that I’ll need.”

Instantly, the aether spheres darted up out of the large chamber. Once they reached the level of the corridor, they changed direction, flying right into it. If there were any traps awaiting the pair, this was the point they would be triggered. As expected, they were.

The entire red carpet shot up, splitting the corridor in two like a crimson line. Its narrow width prevented it from filling the entire space, merely separating the baron and Liandra on either side. Crimson strands shot out sideways, shattering the aether protection. The avatar, however, was ready for that, meeting the attack with dozens of tip-blessed shards that emerged around him. Like heavy hail, they melted the blood strands, then continued on, shredding the wall of blood.

Having no desire to give up, the blood carpet patched itself up, occasionally proceeding with counterattacks of its own. Half a dozen strands managed to sneak through the barrage, getting dangerously close to the body of the avatar.

Suddenly, the strands made an abrupt ninety-degree turn, as Theo used telekinesis to force their trajectory along a different path. It was a spur-of-the-moment action that technically wasn’t supposed to work. Telekinesis only worked on objects and required increasingly vast amounts of mana to divert anything in motion, making it unusable in combat for ordinary mages.

You’re just an object, aren’t you? The dungeon thought as he severed the threads with a few more blessed-tip icicles.

“Then what do you think about this?” In a bout of inspiration—or random combinatorics—the avatar cast a fireball, yet instead of surrounding it with an aether sphere as he usually did, Theo blessed the flame.

By any logic, the flame couldn’t be considered an area, so the spell should have had the same effect as if he were to bless a patch of air. When it came to the rules of this world, it seemed that metaphors and physics had a way of coexisting in perfect harmony. Tossing the ball of flame on the crimson wall appeared no different than splashing a drop of acid on a sheet of paper. A massive hole gaped on the surface of the blood—along with the intense sound of crackling—just in time for the avatar to see Liandra slash through the air, slicing an even larger part of the wall.

Encouraged by his discovery, Theo cast a dozen more fireballs. Now that he knew the principle, he could easily combine them with his previous discovery, sending bubbled fireballs along a vast stretch of the wall.

Fire filled the corridor behind him. An entire section was torn off, causing the whole of the wall behind it to splash to the floor. A few moments later, the rest of the wall also pulled down, returning to its carpet state.

“It’s not playing around,” Liandra said, holding her grandfather’s legendary sword. “Are you sure you’ll be able to handle all the threats on the way there?”

“If the abomination didn’t feel threatened by us, it wouldn’t have tried to stop us reaching it,” the avatar said. The logic was flawed in more ways than anyone could imagine, but in the heat of the moment, it made enough sense for Liandra not to challenge it outright. “As long as we stay away from the blood we should be—

Hundreds of skeletal hands broke out from the walls, preventing the baron from uttering the last word. There was nothing special about them, just normal skeletal appendages, reaching out to grab anything close. The issue was that there were a lot of them. Fortunately, the cumulative effect of the swiftness spells the avatar had cast on himself made their actions lethargically slow, giving him more than enough time to cast a massive ice shield between him and the wall. Just in case, though, Theo cast a few more dozen swiftness spells onto himself.

SWIFTNESS – ULTRA

Allows you to acquire absolute reaction speed for one instant by using 20 Mana (Energy). During that time, you can perform any action almost at the speed of a deity.

A message appeared in front of Theo’s eyes. It was about time he had developed that skill to its ultra state. Unlike most of the ones he had recently received, this was rather useful. Eager to check it out, the dungeon triggered the skill.

From the perspective of his avatar, time almost froze still. Subconsciously, a timer started running, urging him to do something—anything—in the moment of eternity allotted to him, and so he did. A ten-foot chunk of ice emerged in front of the avatar, then propelled forward, tearing off skeletal arms from the wall, like a five-blade razor going through a beard.

On the other side, a similar slash attack from Liandra had a similar, though less flashy, effect.

“Lia!” the avatar snapped at her.

“Just helping out.” The heroine looked away.

Unwilling to take the risk, the avatar used his flight spell to pull in front. The entrance to the ballroom soon emerged, made even more prominent by the crimson carpet going upwards. Taking no chances, Theo blessed a few more fireballs he sent forward.

Before they could hit the target, the carpet pulled out, leaving the explosion to impact the corridor itself.

Propelling another fireball forward, the avatar used it to scry into the chamber. To his surprise, there were no enemies there. What was more, the structure of the room itself had changed. A new staircase had formed, leading up to a section that had markedly been sealed off the last time Theo had been there. Just as the fireball proceeded forward, a massive ivory spear emerged from nowhere, extinguishing it with one swift hit.

“There’s a skeleton guard,” the avatar told Liandra. “Stay here until I’m done with him.” And just to note the importance of his point, he slowed down her flight spell, bringing the heroine to a complete standstill. He, meanwhile, continued forward, flying out of the underground corridor until he reached the very ceiling of the ballroom.

Fortunately, there was no indication that any element of the blood spider had survived. The chandeliers were bare, like trees in autumn. Unfortunately, the guard he had glimpsed part of appeared a bit more impressive than initially expected.

The entity was nothing less than a knight clad in full bone armor. What the avatar believed to be a spear was, in all actuality, a jousting lance, coated in a layer of crimson red. The entire monstrosity was at least ten feet tall, blocking off the stairway out of the room.

“Let’s see what you are.” The avatar cast an arcane identify.

GREAT UNDEAD

(Unique Minion)

The product of generations, this minion contains all the combined magic of generations of necromancers. Created by multiple generations, the minion increases in power as the magic and bones of necromancers join its form after their deaths.

This Great Undead minion is the product of eight generations of necromancers, and has existed for over three centuries.

“Spok,” Theo said out of habit. “What’s a…” he stopped.

The spirit guide had more than enough on her plate. With Rosewind overflowing with panic and chaos, not to mention zombie letters, maybe it wasn’t the best time to bother her with details. All that mattered was that the great undead was a unique minion, which meant two things: danger and core points.

The lance split the air, moving faster than the human eye. Thanks to the effect of dozens of swiftness spells, the baron could see it clearly, even without resorting to his new ability variant. Floating to the side, he let the lance pierce through the ceiling. The precision, strength, and speed of the attack were beyond impressive. Even a hero would have felt fear when faced with a creature of that nature. However, if there was one thing that Theo could be confident about, it was recognizing a glass cannon when he saw one.

“If that’s how you want to play.” The avatar cast a spell.

A large block of ice appeared in front of him, quickly starting its fall to the floor. As it did, though, the size quickly increased so much that at the point of landing it was ten times as large. Limbs quickly emerged, as a fully grown ice elemental came into being. Given Theo’s past experience, and the fact that his mind stat remained at a measly seventy-seven, there was little doubt that the elemental would turn on him at the first opportunity. Yet, since the avatar was high in the air, there was a greater chance it would focus on the enemy in front.

Apparently, the great undead thought the same. The skeleton drew its crimson sword, then darted forward, piercing the elemental in the blink of an eye.

Massive cracks spread along the torso of the ice entity. For a moment, it almost seemed as if the fight had concluded. The cracks kept on growing until they covered the whole of the ice elemental. Just then, the creature grabbed the armored bone hand. A layer of ice and frost emerged, spreading quickly.

Perfect! From above, the dungeon’s avatar cast a series of blessed fireballs.

His initial plan had been completely different. What he intended was to let the two entities duke it off for a while, then use his entanglement spell on the weakened skeletal minion. He hadn’t expected a direct attack, far less the ice elemental anchoring the skeleton in place. Still, Theo would be a fool not to take advantage.

Explosions erupted as flames filled the ballroom. Since there were no people present, he no longer had to worry about collateral damage.

“Nice minion,” the baron said as he continued with his magic bombardment. “But can it survive fire?”

Instead of an answer, a bone dagger the size of a two-handed great sword emerged from the cushion of flames below, aimed straight at the avatar. The action was so unexpected that even swiftness couldn’t completely save him. The blade ripped through the avatar’s right arm, severing it completely as it hit the ceiling. Back in the dungeon’s main body, a massive spike in energy consumption was felt. Had he been human, this would have been the end.

Without wasting a moment, Theo surrounded his avatar in an invulnerable aether sphere. Two more bone daggers flew up, bouncing up the hard surface as they pushed it into the ceiling. The attack didn’t end there. Without warning, the lance and dagger stuck in the ceiling transformed into skeletal centipedes, then wrapped around the outside sphere. Each of their legs were as sharp as sword tips.

“Is that how you want to play?” the avatar filled the inside of the sphere with ice shards, aimed at the entities on the other side of the barrier. “Do you seriously think that you’re faster?”

The entities moved about, but didn’t get off the aether sphere, willing to take their chances. A tense stare off ensued. The seconds stretched to minutes until the aether bubble shattered.

Ice shards flew, striking the centipedes without mercy long before the things could twitch. It was obvious that they never stood a chance. Before Theo could rejoice, a giant armored fist struck his avatar, slamming him into the ceiling.

As a new energy surge spiked within the dungeon’s main body, he saw the great undead inches away from his avatar’s face. The bone armor of the skeletal minion was covered in cracks and had missing pieces the size of a small horse, but was still very much functional. Neither the ice elemental, not the bombardment of holy fireballs, had managed to finish it off.

This can’t be good, the dungeon thought.