Dungeon Desolation (The Divine Dungeon Book 4)

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Dungeon Desolation (The Divine Dungeon Book 4) Page 2

by Dakota Krout


  <…I’ll get him next time.> I promised myself silently, knowing that it was likely a promise I couldn’t keep.

  Chapter Two

  Dale was sitting in the ground, yes, in the ground, coated in rock up to his neck. Right now, he was supposed to be working on his control of an earth technique but was finding it hard to concentrate with his grumpy old Moon Elf instructor slapping him every few seconds. Blood leaked from Dale’s broken nose, and he was pretty sure a few teeth were getting loose.

  “You’d better get yourself out of there soon, Human,” his teacher punctuated the last word with a particularly vicious slap that left Dale seeing stars, “or I am going to start using something that will really hurt.”

  Dale’s eye flicked to the bucket of something bubbling over a fire behind the Elf. He was pretty sure that there was some form of tar in there. He redoubled his efforts, managing to form his most well-practiced technique. As he began to send the shaped Essence into the stone around him, a particularly vicious smack and a harsh tone stopped him. “Fool! You are trying to shatter the stone that you are coated in? Are you trying to kill yourself? Thousands of stone shards shooting into you will accomplish that nicely. You probably think you’re a wit, but you’re only half right! Stop trying to cut corners, and do this properly.”

  The verbal abuse kept mounting, and the slaps began increasing in severity to the point Dale was actually worried that he would be killed from one of the blows if they continued. With a burst of inspiration and power, Dale shoved the stone away from him. Unlike the barely-controlled explosion of energy leaving his body, the stone sank away smoothly. The slaps and acidic voice stopped, and Dale was allowed to clamber out of the hole he had been in.

  “Finally.” The Elf seemed to be more exhausted than Dale was, but Dale knew the Elf was at least a Mage and so must have been acting. “You have finally taken your first step upon non-somatic casting. Now, do you understand that all of your enormous motions and gestures for using your techniques are merely a crutch that you should not rely on?”

  “I understand that I apparently don’t need to make the motions, but… I’m not sure how to replicate what I just did.” Dale winced as he spoke, knowing that it was likely that the pain would soon begin again.

  The Elf glared at him, only relaxing after Dale was fully panic-sweating. “Good. After all, that is what this training is for. Now that you have had a taste of the proper way to use your Essence, it will be easier for you to accept the teachings we will impart to you. Once something is shown to be possible, the body and mind will accept it much more easily. Let’s continue with the next exercise, but you may need some pain reduction if we are to continue. Stefan! Get over here and administer a swelling reduction potion; he needs to be able to see for this next part.”

  A man Dale had never met before came walking over at what seemed to be a laborious pace for him. Dale had never seen someone who embodied absolute exhaustion like this ‘Stefan’ did. “Did I hear pain relief?”

  “Don’t worry about that; I changed my mind. Swelling reduction only.”

  “Yes, dark lord.” Stefan groaned as he reached into a bag at his side. Dale honestly thought the man might be a zombie. “I have been making up more potions, but-”

  “We are busy, Stefan. When you graduate from Pharmacist to Alchemist, we will speak again. Until then, you are just an assistant and will be regarded as such.” The Moon Elf’s tone was bland, but his words were so sharp Dale was surprised the man didn’t start bleeding. “Dale, drink that and get ready to dodge.”

  The sun was coming up by the time Dale wobbled on unsteady legs away from his brutal instructor. He felt entirely drained of Essence, and his meridians felt abused. Then again, he had functioning meridians, so he really shouldn’t be complaining too much. Overusing the ability to crush and absorb the power in Cores had caused him to burn out his meridians, which had led to his recent death. Also, the loss of all of his weapons and armor, which was almost as horrifying. Dale stumbled into his bedroom, dropped onto the bed, and cursed the fact that stairs existed. Everything should be on the same level so that when he was exhausted, he didn’t need to bother with such inconvenience. He looked out of his window and saw only an expanse of blue, reminding him of his next unpleasant task.

  “Cal,” Dale groaned into the air, hoping that the dungeon would respond before he passed out. They had recently discovered that they were originally the same person and had been trying to get on better terms. It had been a very confusing time and involved a portal through time and space generated via chaos. Something they literally could not intend to happen… had happened. On the plus side, Dale no longer had an irrational fear of the dungeon. “Cal, buddy, my other half, we need to talk.”

  The voice resounded in Dale’s head.

  “You always say the nicest things.” Dale closed his eyes, the stone ceiling above him not interesting enough to continue keeping his eyes open to stare at. “Question for you: why are we out over the ocean instead of hunting the undead and their masters?”

  the voice trailed off, so Dale hurried to keep the dungeons attention.

  “Cal, hey! Don’t go running off. This is Mountaindale.” Dale waited a moment, but there was no instant response, so he decided to play along. “How about a ‘skyland’? Combine ‘sky’ and ‘island’, and I think you are the only one.”

  The voice was back, so Dale quickly jumped into conversation.

  “I don’t think people would call us a ‘Neverland’; they don’t have any context for understanding the name. Plus, what happens if someday you have to touch down? Listen, Cal. I need a few more details from you about why we are out over the ocean.” Dale paused and stopped speaking entirely, something that he knew bothered the dungeon. It did not like to waste time.

  Dale nodded in confirmation.

  “I see. So this will benefit you and, indirectly, us, correct?” Dale spoke thoughtfully. “Also, even the memories I did get from you are… vanishing.”

 

  “Pretty sure I get that arrogant tendency from you,” Dale muttered while tapping at his mattress. “That’s a pretty large benefit; I should be able to get the others to calm down with that information. I have a small issue, though. If there is something we need to fight at this location, I have
nothing to fight with or defend myself with.”

  Dale rolled his eyes at this statement.

  “We both know that there isn’t anyone that can match the quality of the gear you are able to provide. If I leave here and die outside of your influence, you lose a chunk of your soul, and I am gone forever.” Dale knew this argument was guaranteed to produce results. The dungeon was nothing if not concerned about self-preservation, and adding on flattery didn’t hurt.

  Dale nodded and closed his eyes, his exhaustive training assuring that he was asleep in moments.

  Chapter Three

  Screams resounded through a small town as orderly ranks of the undead closed in on them. The gates were barred, and any cultivators in the area moved to a defensive position. Protecting the people was their duty, their calling. Heavy feet pounding, exposed bone scraping over stone, and moaning zombies all ensured that a cacophony of sound nearly drowned out the cries of fear.

  All at once, the undead stopped. The echoes of their movement reverberated for a long moment, but total silence fell within seconds. A few of the undead shuffled out of the way, allowing a festering demon to stalk toward the town. As soon as it was seen, the people behind the walls understood that they were dead. There was no one around this small population center that could fight on equal terms with something like that.

  “Human filth.” The demon called lazily. “I am here as an ambassador of The Master. I have been instructed to give you all a choice. You are to join us, or you will die. These are your only options, and not choosing or delaying will ensure your demise. You have one minute to answer.”

  Frantic shouting came from the town, and as the seconds ticked away, they became more furious and louder. The Demon decided that enough time had passed, and spoke once more. “Your choice?”

  There was a pause, but then one of the people on the wall shouted, “We’ll never join you!”

  “Incorrect, but I am so glad that was your choice.” The Demon took a step forward, and the ranks of the dead did the same. The wooden walls surrounding the town were demolished in seconds. The highest ranking cultivator in the town was a C-ranker, everyone else being a D-rank, F-rank, or just a normal person. All of them joined the ranks of the dead that day.

  The Demon, coated in rapidly drying blood and viscera, gave a happy sigh as he bit into a femur and crunched on a chunk of bone. “I love it when they struggle like that. It makes everything so much more… satisfying.”

  CAL

  I snorted a soft chuckle as Dale passed out. I suppose his previous career of counting sheep made it really easy for him to fall asleep whenever and wherever he was.

  I continued to grumble as I spun aluminum thread into a set of silvery clothes. I used his nearby uniform as a model and even went so far as to put his crest in the proper place, seeing as he couldn’t exactly pin it onto this outfit.

 

  I made shoes next, then a balaclava. I was pretty proud of this piece. It looked similar to what the Moon Elves wore to hide their features, and since the material was so thin, Dale could wear it around his neck and still have it hidden beneath his collar when it wasn’t in use. When he needed to protect his head, he could just pull it up and have it cover his entire head. There was a layered portion so he could leave his eyes uncovered if he wanted to, but given the fact that eyes were such a weak point… I wanted to give him the option to protect them.

  Gloves came next, but I made the material much more sturdy and rigid, turning them into battle gauntlets. He would need to take them off when he didn’t want to be in combat, so I added a hook for them to hang on his belt in the same place a weapon such as a sword or mace would typically go. That covered the puny human’s needs pretty well, so it was time to wake him up and explain the gear to him.

  I screamed into his mind. For some reason, he woke up violently, a wave of earth Essence rippling out from him and shattering the walls, floor, and ceiling around his bed. I was actually impressed; that would have caused serious harm to anyone that was actually trying to get the jump on him. Of course, he was showered with rubble but was still mostly unharmed since I had created the armor around his sleeping form.

  “Ow!” he coughed wetly as a large chunk of stone landed on him. Oh right, this gear mainly protected against piercing and slashing effects. Sadly, it wouldn’t do too well against kinetic impact. You really needed something sturdier for that. He should go get armor that would fit over this, though his mobility was his strength…

  I called happily into his mind.

  “Ow,” Dale repeated obnoxiously. Seriously, he did it to himself. “Just… where is it?”

  Exactly as I had hoped for. No one should suspect that he was covered in a continents’ ransom of Mithril.

  “I see that I am wearing an odd head wrap and gloves. Did you make my armor invisible?” Dale voiced quizzically.

 

  “…Yes?”

  I paused a moment to let him admire his new weapons, then continued to praise myself.

 

  < Let’s see… blunt force trauma is going to be your biggest weakness since this has no real sturdiness. So… you might want to get a helmet or something. Also, try not to get crushed. This would protect you enough to keep you from becoming a pancake but not enough for you to survive the experience. As for the armor itself, the weave of the cloth is so tight that you could drink water out of a sewer and the liquid should be filtered well enough to leave behind only pure water. Actually, you should test that; I’d like to be sure.>

  “Hard pass.”

 

  “Why can’t you make me some armor to go over this that will help if something hits me?” Dale kept the whine from his voice, but I still detected it.

  I de
cided to show my ire with words.

  “You killed two parties of people to make this?” Dale looked down at his clothing with disgust.

  I really had to go; there were lots of things to get done, and Dale talked really slowly.

  Perhaps it wasn’t that he spoke slowly; it could be that the enhanced cognition and processing speed associated with not only being a Mage but also being a Dungeon Core caused everyone to seem so slow. Well, not my fault they couldn’t keep up. I had golems to design! Well, that wasn’t strictly accurate. The golems were designed, but I was continuing to fail at creating a more potent version of them. I had some greater success with the golem controlled by the mind of a bunny-loving Elf that had died here, but while she was an impressive fighter, there were just too many flaws in her body.

  Mainly, she was fragile. Not… well, certainly not to an average person but to a Mage that was able to make the trek to her? My Boss was a challenge to them, sure, but not a serious one. The issue was: I hadn’t been lying when I said that Mithril was expensive to make, and that was the only thing I could think of right now that would increase her durability. That created a problem for me because if she was defeated and taken as treasure while coated in Mithril… someone would be walking away with a vast power investment. She just wasn’t deadly enough to justify the potential loss. To fix my issues, I was trying to boost the density of Mana packed into golems by using our newly discovered materials, but at a certain point, they would just explode.

 

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