ă€ŠDungeon Masteryă€‹ In The Beginning, The System Made An Error I died. ... It''s a pretty cliche beginning, I know. But what could I do about it?Hey, God. Can I get a do-over, please? Preferably with some sort of protagonist cheat power? Heh.If only, I had thought then. If only I had knownis a bit more appropriate, nowadays. I might have asked for something different. Then again, in hindsight, from my current point of view I honestly wouldn''t; I''m content as I am. But I''m not who I used to be. I can''t tell you how my past self would have reacted to that knowledge. Well, however itmight have gone,at least I didn''t complete the ultimate cliche: I didn''t die being run over by a truck, saving a child from its impact. Honestly, I don''t evenknowhow I died. I think something fell on me, but it could have been an explosion, or even a gunshot. There was a brief instant of an overwhelming impact from outside my field of vision, a flash of pain, and then... It wasn''t darkness, exactly, but my senses weren''t returning any input. There was only the sensation of travelling somewhere - and then, abruptly, a total certainty that there had been a catastrophe. For a while, I drifted. Perhaps it was seconds, or aeons - perhaps it was both. I don''t think time existed there, not in the way mortals understand it. But it was long, even if it ended quite quickly. There was a period where I tried to move myself around, but I had no reference points, no way to tell if it was really working. I thought it did, but it might just have been my imagination. I gave up pretty soon. Somewhere along the way, I went a bit mad, I think. Eventually, I came back to reality - such as it was - or maybe I just became so crazy I looped around back into sane. Or I might have forcibly achieved enlightenment as my mind cracked open. With what I know now, I think that last was probably closest, even if it''s not exactly right. Not that I''ll ever be quite sure. I certainly don''t think like a normal person any more, but for all it might be genuine damage to my cognitive process, it just as well might all stem from the change in my nature when... I''m getting ahead of myself. Still, it comes to about the same anyway. By the time I had my thoughts in order, I had finally come close enough to something that was not myself or the indistinctness of my surroundings to perceive it. A great river of light, or perhaps a loop, that rose up from an eye-searing hypersphere - a sphere expanded into more dimensions than merely three - passed throughsomethingthat I could not directly turn my gaze upon, and returned back to its origin. Thatsomethingemanated watchfulness, and power, andcontrolin a way I found profoundly unsettling. And in attempting to get away from thecontrollingthing - finding I could, if vaguely, manipulate my floating - I accidentally fell into theotherriver-loop. In all fairness, it was dark, and quiet, and shadowy, and generally so camouflaged into the uniform not-ness that made up the rest of everything around me that I don''t think I can really be blamed for missing it when my attention was otherwise occupied. What followed proved that one should never pray to God - any Divinity, really, or in fact anything in general, because Murphy isalways listening -without being wholeheartedly certain that what you''re praying for is a desired outcome. As I was swept along in that river, I felt the shadows coiling around me, trying to seep inward. So I reached out, and I felt that strange, quiet calm I had found as I drifted, and I drew it around me like a cloak, and that shielded me well enough. They felt... small, really. And then I was passing through the boundary of the hypersphere, and things gotweird.

Error R#03 - Soul not following standard reincarnation procedure

Evaluating...

Soul classified Human within acceptable error boundaries

!!Error S#00!! - Human soul not connected to System!

Connecting...

Connection established

!!Error¦Ř!! - Detected entitywithout inherentmana

Logic Error - Humans are capable of mana usage

Evaluating...

Error Resolution - reclassify soul #newcategory:Human_Var_1

Suspending primary routine...

Initiating Reclassification Bugcheck...

Rechecking System setup...

Error S#02 - System settings do not match host [SystRestrict]

Error Resolution: Human_Var_1:[SystRestrict] is empty

Error Resolution: Disabling System limiters...

Error Resolution: Disabling power siphoning...

Error Resolution: Disabling administrator privileges...

Error Resolution: Disabling Divine Intervention backdoors...

Error Resolution: Disabling Debug Message concealment...

Rechecking System setup...

Results nominal

Conclusion: No further action required

Returning to primary routine...

Resuming primary routine...

5 unresolved Errors in queue

Evaluating...

Error Resolution - Human_Var_1[ReinProtocol] is empty

Conclusion: Human_Var_1 not required to follow standard reincarnation procedure

Learning Program: Apply Conclusion to other Errors for this entity?

Destiny - Valid

Faith - Valid

Patronage - Valid

Domain Connections - Valid

Error Resolution: No Errors remain in queue

Conclusion: No further action required

I didn''t get all of that at the time - ithappened, of course, but firstly I wasn''t able to see debug messages until halfway through when it disabled that restriction, and secondly I was really too busy being in blinding pain to notice that I suddenly had a waterfall of alertson the notification log. I went back through the listafterwards to try and work out what had happened, of course, but that took me a little while to get around to. Why was I in blinding pain, you ask? Because once I had passed through the four- (or possibly five- or six-)dimensional boundary, I precipitated out of that river of shadows. At which point an invisible, intangible yet very muchpowerfulforce of what I can only describe as cold, emptydarknesspromptly grabbed me and attempted to stuff my very human soul into a decidedly nonhuman container. Hence theotherslew of messages.

You have reincarnated! Your[Human]Race has changed to[Dungeon Core]!

Warning! Animus Dissonance is occurring! Stabilise your soul and body immediately!

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

By total subjugation of a Dungeon Core, you have unlocked the[Dungeon Master]Job!

Initiating RaceChange_SystCheck

Evaluating...

4 Errors added to queue

Learning Program - Errors share solution?

Checking Dungeon_Core[SystRestrict], Dungeon_Core[Destiny], Dungeon_Core[Faith_&_Patronage]...

Error S#02 - System settings do not match host [SystRestrict]

Error Resolution - Enabling System limiters

Error S#01 - cannot interfere with Fundamental Settings of an incarnated soul

Evaluating...

Learning Program - Errors share solution:[True]

Error Resolution - reconcile setting dissonance #addskill:#newskill:#uniqueskill[Unbound_Essence]

Rechecking Dungeon_Core[SystRestrict], Dungeon_Core[Destiny], Dungeon_Core[Faith_&_Patronage]...

Results nominal

Conclusion: No further action required

By throwing off the shackles imposed by the Divinities, and through the exceptional strength of your soul, you have created the Unique Skill[Unbound Essence]!

The exceptional strength of your soul has forced an evolution! Your[Dungeon Core]Race has evolved into the[Sophont Dungeon Core]Race! Your[Sapphire]Subtype has evolved into the[Flawless Arcanite Crystal]Subtype!

The exceptional strength of your soul has interacted with the Skill[Dungeon Instinct]! It has mutated into[Dungeon Comprehension]!

The thing about souls, you see, is that they''re quite the opposite of bodies. They get stronger as they age. Accumulating memories and experience helps, of course, but even sitting and staring at a rock wall for thirty thousand years will see your soul slowly but surely grow. I had been drifting, I suspected, for far, far longer than that. Which, well...

Dungeon Comprehension
Mythic
LEVEL1	EXP3.04%
A Dungeon''s instincts, housed in a soul of far greater sensitivity and intuition than the intended recipients - all but deaf and blind in comparison. Provides an innate understanding of the capabilities and limitations of Dungeon-related Skills, Jobs and magic. Provides a strong instinct for possibilities that could be realised, and guides the user to more efficiently bring their inspirations into reality.

Sophont Dungeon Core (Flawless Arcanite Crystal)

Divine

A perfected Dungeon Core,possessing a mind and soul of its own, and a body crystallised from the stuff of magic itself. Strongly emphasises intellect and wisdom, providing exceptional improvement to mana capacity, regeneration and control. Extreme affinity for creatures of magic. Provides the ability to utilise one''s own body as the core of a ward or glyph array of any size or complexity, and the mind as its node, without negative consequence. Greatly enhances the strength, versatility, flexibility and range of [Dungeon Territory].

Unbound Essence
Supreme
LEVEL1	EXPMAX
An existence not tied to fate, or the Domains belonging to the Divine. Unconstrained in all ways, the user may grow without limit, and learn without restriction. Greatly increases mana capacity and regeneration. Provides immunity to direct Divine Intervention; attempts to assault the body, mind, spirit or soul must overwhelm defensive abilities through conventional means. Provides immunity to the spiritual and soul bindings of the System, negating arbitrary Job, Skill, and EXP caps and preventing power siphoning or override activation by the administrating Divinities. Provides immunity to Divine Awareness and Divination-type abilities. The user possesses Free Will, and is not bound by the dictates of Destiny.

So, when I woke up, I didn''t panic. I didn''t flail around in confusion. I knew that I was a Dungeon, a new and unique sort of Dungeon, with all the raw magical power of my less individualistic brothers and all the potential forskillandcontrolbelonging to truly intelligent wielders of mana - plus the ability to accumulate Jobs and Skills in a way that normal Dungeons simply couldn''t. I knew that I was not constrained by the rules and laws that governed other Dungeons, or by the Decrees of Kings and Emperors - my Dungeon counting as my own sovereign territory, and thus preventing the Royal or Imperial Magics from enforcing their edicts - unless I wanted to be. I lacked any detailed awareness of the wider world, of course, that wasn''t something I was provided; the only reason I knew there were Kings and Emperors at all was because a function of my Dungeon nature was to make it impossible for them to rule over me unless I willingly bent the knee. So to speak. Still, there were things I could infer; this world had magic, Kings, and Emperors, so it was almost certainly a mid- to high-fantasy style setting. I was a Dungeon, so there would be adventurers of some stripe or another. Almost certainly a variety of races. In fact, it could even be an Isekai setting. Technically it alreadywas, now that I had been reborn here, butI couldn''t rule out the presence of more traditional Heroes possessing extremely powerful cheats. It was certainly wise to assume that there existed old and powerful beings capable of turning me into a molten crater more or less at will; until I had amassed more information, it would be unwise to show any signs of being too... special. Either way, I certainly didn''t want to attract active Divine interest.Unbound Essencewould stop them from noticing me passively, but if their followers brought me to their attention, or if they were actively looking in my direction when I did something strange, I very much doubted they''d take it well I had escaped - even inadvertently - from their little gilded cage, and taken the gilding with me as I went. I mean, administrative backdoors? Power siphoning? Caps on how much you can grow? That was a pretty clear ploy to ensure that the DivinestaysDivine, and the mortalsstaymortal. I''d wager that at one point, those Gods and Goddesses were mortal themselves, if they were worrying so much about their subjects growing to challenge them. Perhaps they overthrew their predecessors, and decided they didn''t want it happening to them, or maybe they just rose to become so much more powerful than anyone else that others started worshipping them and it went to their heads. Whatever the truth, what they were doing wasn''t right at all. On the other hand... given it didn''t affectme, did I reallycare? There''s something interesting about being a Dungeon: certain inefficiencies inherent to biology are stripped away.The vast majorityof emotion and self-delusion remains - one can still become blindingly angry or depressive and lethargic - but it never reaches the point of genuinely interfering with one''s cognition or ability toact. Gloomy and moping, yes; unable to muster the energy to stir and repel and invader, never. So I could be honest with myself far more easily: I didn''t, particularly. For those I came to care for - and Iwouldfind people, I wasn''t about to be immortal all on myown, even if it would probably be devilishly hard as a Dungeon- I would see about helping them slip the net. In general, though, it probably wasn''t worth the time or effort it would take for me to resolve it. I didn''t reallywantto fight a war against the Divine. I just wanted to live a quiet life, learning magic, creating species and building up my Dungeon. Or maybe even multiple Dungeons. Maybe I''d set up a whole array of them, all the way from "rock-paper-scissors" to "Dark Souls NG+10". ... Then again, building a weak rock-paper-scissors dungeon would be boring. Watching adventurers just work out which damage type or element worked against which enemies and then mowing them all down... or even if I didn''t set it up like that, just smashing their way through Floor after Floor of pathetic traps and mediocre monsters... that didn''t appeal to me at all. I was intelligent, I had the ability to do whatever I chose - but that didn''t mean I wasn''t still a Dungeon. I had new instincts, to grow, tobuild, and in a lot of ways my consciousness only made them stronger.I''d seen all sorts of wonders of natural and architectural beauty, on Earth... I wanted to make things like that. And having run more than a few tabletop games in my time, my pride as a GM wouldn''t allow me to be content with a dank little hole in the ground, or a boring web of uniform grey stone corridors linking between rooms thateveryone who sets foot in the placeknows are going to contain a monster encounter. No, my Dungeon was going to be a work ofart. ... Except I had to not draw attention to myself, didn''t I? Ugh.

Bothynus
Race	Sophont Dungeon Core	Subtype	Flawless Arcanite Crystal
Age	0	Gender	Male
Faith	None	Patron	None
Adventuring Jobs
Job		Level	EXP
Dungeon Master		1	0.00%
Racial Skills
Skill		Level	EXP
Dungeon Awareness		1	4.27%
Dungeon Comprehension		1	3.04%
Dungeon Magic		1	0.00%
Dungeon Territory		1	0.00%
Unique Skills
Skill		Level	EXP
Unbound Essence		1	MAX
Dungeon Master Skills
Skill		Level	EXP
Dungeon Architect		1	0.00%
Dungeon Commander		1	0.00%
Dungeon Supporter		1	0.00%

To Plant A Dryads Grove In the end, I decided I''d have to let the chips fall where they may. I wasn''t intending (initially) to start throwing around complete lunacy like powerful monsters or deadly traps on the first Floor, but at the same time I didn''t think I could tolerate passing myself off as a normal Dungeon for more than about ten seconds without driving myself up the wall (or possibly every wall in my Territory.) Sapphire, as my initial Subtype, had already been of Legendary - purple - class. So it was clear there were different sorts of Dungeons. Now that I was Divine-level? Well, I could get away with at least some unusualness, surely? On the other hand, the risk of attracting Godly attention was all-pervading, and, quite frankly, fucking terrifying. I likely couldn''t even handle the big-name adventurers as I was; entities that could smash them to paste with an idle thought? Not a tauntaun''s hope on Mustafar. If I wanted even the slightest chance, I''d have to make something new, something the Gods and Goddesses had never seen before and couldn''t prepare for. I''d need to take normal animals and modify them, or even make changes to standard monster types. But that would take time, and almost certainly incredible quantities of mana. Which, all in all, was why I was so relieved to be embedded in a tiny cave (perhaps two meters tall by two and a half wide by five deep) in a gigantic mountain in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully, while my Awareness principally related to knowing what was going on in my Territory, being a sort of combination of a sixth sense, the ''Appraisal'' skill - or whatever it was called here - and a localised scrying effect, the other thing it did was make me very, very sensitive to mana, even outside the bounds of what I''d claimed. Like having permanently active mage sight, except it was mental rather than physical. And in a world like this, everything had magic. Hell, even the world itself; the atmosphere around me pulsed and flowed in colours without name, massive currents hundreds of metres wide and countless kilometres long soaring high above me, split and muddled by the mountain-peaks, occasionally siphoned away by distant, twinkling brightnesses in my mind''s eye. More important in the short term, however, was that everything I could perceive was untamed, untouched by the controlling presence of a Kingdom or Empire belonging to any of the ''adventuring races'', whatever they actually were around here. The Holy Fantasy Trinity of human, elf and dwarf were probably present, but even that wasn''t certain and trying to guess beyond it was more or less an excercise in futility. Instead, I focused on what a newborn Dungeon should always focus on: building up my first Floor. Since there was no sign of civilisation, and the jungle sprawled out past the horizon, I decided I could risk being a little overt in favour of not immediately dying. I didn''t want to claim any surface land long-term without first finding out whether or not that was a sign of a corrupted or insane or actively, outwardly malicious (and, in all cases, therefore to be put down with prejudice) Dungeon, but I did need some real-world base to work off for my first monsters or I''d end up having to spend huge amounts of magic all the time, and temporarily stretching my Territory out into the jungle that surrounded my tiny cave was almost certainly the cheaper option. That, of course, raised the question of how I could get monsters without having anything real to base them on. All Dungeons are naturally and deeply connected to the world''s magic, and that magic has an exceptionally strong conceptual component, to the point that the ideas of things - of spells, of traps, of buildings and substances and monsters - are engraved ever more firmly into the background magical field the more common and well-known they were. So depending on what sort of Dungeon you are, and where you''re situated (and the phase of the moon and what the leylines and background field currents are looking like today and a whole bunch of other stuff that means it''s never quite the same), you''ll have a different resonance, a different level of affinity, with different ''patterns''. To use a completely wrong analogy that nevertheless makes it much easier to understand, they would be closer to the ''surface'' of the magic for you, and therefore easier to get to. More powerful - more conceptually ''weighty'' - things would be ''deeper''. So you could do two things: expend mana to look for something specific you wanted, and then expend more mana to reach out and grab the pattern, learning it for yourself, or you could just coil up any amount of mana you liked and throw it like a spear, then reel it in to see what you managed to harpoon. The more mana you used, the ''deeper'' the spear would penetrate, and the better a result you were likely to get. In other words, even though this world isn''t a game... I have a gacha. The drawback to those systems is, fairly obviously to anyone who has ever encountered microtransactions, that they''re expensive. If, by contrast, something were to die in my Territory, I would not only receive its pattern, but all the mana contained within its body, meaning I would profit twice over. And to my fortune, I had a rainforest, one of the richest and most biodiverse environments in the world, right outside the mouth of my cave. Moreover, it was a fairly magical one at that - I could clearly pick out most of the plants in my mental perception, the magic running through them strong and defined enough to show me their shapes and sizes. Many of the animals, too. So I decided, given I was almost certainly unsurveilled for the time being, that I needed to take a risk and sieze the opportunity I had for fast growth, and hopefully be reasonably safe by the time I was discovered rather than out in the open. Of course, that meant I needed to frontload a monster or two to do the killing, really, since I didn''t favour relying on luck to find me something I could use right out of the gate. And thus, for the first time, I drew on my mana. I got the strangest sense of being stretched out, despite the fact my physical body was a perfectly spherical crystal. Then again, it wasn''t a bodily strain, but a spiritual one - to use the lungs as a metaphor, I was exhaling only very slowly, and I still had plenty of air, but I couldn''t breathe in while I was still exhaling. Or, well, I could, but it required a rather odd and slightly unpleasant twist of the mind, analogous in this rather overextended metaphor to circular breathing. Magically, it was perhaps even more curious a sensation, a multitude of sparks shimmering and roiling below and/or within me in a sea of light, each one a different shade and hue and brightness, giving off a different sound and smell and - somehow - taste, and about five other sensations aside. The flavour of the day, it seemed, was electric blue, smelling like rain and an incoming storm, and conveying the sensation of a cool flow of water hiding powerful currents beneath the surface; sparks like that were visibly brighter than the others on the same ''level'' - because, this not actually being a visual sort of perception, I could quite happily see down through the layers if I spent a little extra mana. And speaking of mana, that was almost certainly what they were aligned to, given that I had an "extreme affinity for creatures of magic". A little experimental prodding revealed I could get a deeper sense of what the sparks actually were than just strength/nature/affinity if I reached out to ''touch'' them; I sifted through a couple of slimes, a Kobold Shaman, something I was calling a dazzlebird for its ability to stun people with a flash of its plumage, and a few other odds and ends without any particularly great abilities that got a bit in the way, before finally (completely accidentally, I must admit) reaching more or less the most valuable prize I could have stumbled on, even if I might have passed it over for being a verdant green rather than arcane blue. Having actually touched it, though, I immediately knew I''d hit a jackpot, and so, coiling my ''grip'' about the spark, I pulled back and up and out - - and the mana drain hit me like a punch in the gut. I couldn''t do anything, I couldn''t breathe, I was getting barely a trickle of relief, I needed more - - and a veritable torrent of mana came pouring in as what little I''d regenerated dipped again and my Territory exploded outward, like ribs expanding and stretching to their limit, consuming stone and moss and grass and vine as it went, reducing them to their constituent mana for a far more substantial boost. For a few moments, I just sat there dumbly, greedily gulping down all the magic I could; once my reserves stabilised, I took stock, wincing internally at the way I now sat at the centre of the almost hemispherical pair of bites that had been taken out of the mountainside and the rocky floor around me, as I glimmered prettily azure in the dawn light for any passerby to see. Best not do that again without some more preparation. Apparently there were reasons most Dungeons didn''t start summoning real monsters for a Floor or two. Also, I was glad to have learned that Dungeon Comprehension had blind spots when it wasn''t going to cause me real, serious trouble - it could tell me I had enough mana to make the summon, just barely, but it said nothing about how horrible significant mana drain felt. Note to self: my shiny new instincts pertained only to purely Dungeon-based things. They were quite incapable of telling me anything about how those things might reflect on me as a conscious, feeling existence. Still, I thought to myself as a sleek, iridescent bird, feathers rippling with colours like the top of an oil slick, landed on my Core and gave me a couple of curious pecks, there are upsides. Double-checking the expected mana cost this time, I ate away some more of the stone already within my Territory, forming rough-hewn steps up to my Core, and then, because I was a perfectionist bastard, spent just a little of it back to add some aesthetic moss to the cracks I''d put here and there. Once I was sure I had enough power, and was satisfied with the look of my new dais, I double-checked the bird was still there, smiled inwardly, and managed, even through the drain that left me gasping for metaphorical air, to keep smiling. It helped I had good cause; while I recovered, slender fingers gently curled around shimmering feathers, picking up the bird as it nuzzled blissfully into the grasp. Then my new Dryad broke its neck. She smiled at me in return as the body dissipated into mana, happy to have been able to be of use to me immediately after her summoning; the expression broadened as I pushed gratitude and approval back down the bond. Useful thing, knowing the mind of my monsters. After glancing around, verifying a lack of enemies, she dipped into a curtsy, slightly lifting the hem of the leafy miniskirt she wore. I briefly regretted my lack of a conventional body. "Master. How may I... serve you?" ...I deeply regretted my lack of a conventional body. And she knew it too, from the sly look she gave me. Dryads, I supposed at the time, were incorrigible flirts. It made sense to me, with the stories of them as spirits of nature, of freedom and of life and the propagation thereof. I''d find out they were far more than merely flirts in time, when... ah, but I''m getting ahead of myself again. Electing to simply move on without acknowledging it, since that would almost certainly just make things worse, I pulled my thoughts back into order. Guard the entranceway. I need to restructure the cave as a priority; if you can provide me the patterns of any more animals that pass by, do so, but don''t endanger yourself or leave me undefended. On the offchance intelligent creatures show up, don''t initiate hostilities - greet them politely, inform them that you would prefer they not disturb me while I am building up the first Floor, and bar but don''t completely block off the door if they try to enter - but defend yourself freely if attacked. The thought that had occurred to me when I stumbled across her pattern in the sea of lights... definitely had merit. Maybe I could make this work. With something as strong as a Dryad, I could probably afford to postpone the monsters for now... I''ll be turning the first Floor into a grove, growing magically augmented herbs and trees of various kinds - alchemical ingredients, magical foci, things like that - so I''ll need you to oversee it, unless you''ve a particularly strong preference otherwise. Your backstory, for the purpose of anyone who asks, is that you grew from a seed of one of the rowan trees higher up the mountain that fell down here, and then happened upon a newborn Dungeon Core that you tricked into providing you with mana and territory by scaring it with horror stories about adventurers and then promising to protect it. A moment''s pause for consideration. I''ll give you a few - let''s call them shimmerbirds - to use as eyes and ears. Try not to get them caught out as Dungeon animals if you''re using them outside, I don''t know what the reaction to that would be and I''m not inclined to risk it. The summoning was far less rough for those, less than a percent of the cost of a Dryad, though I staggered them one by one anyway. Letting the Dryad piggyback on their senses the way I could, and directly command them... wasn''t something I could do for a normal monster, unless it was an inherent part of the design like an ant queen. So why had I been so certain I could? ... Ah. Yes, that made sense. It took me a little while to regather my power. I had, by that point, tunnelled my way almost twenty meters further back into the mountain, the pedestal that supported my core moving with the excavation, and was rapidly enlarging the cave still further in the other two dimensions. The cost of each Territory expansion soon repaid itself as I consumed the stone that barred my way, drinking more and more deeply of the world''s magic as my domain grew, and in short order it was pure profit I could reinvest into yet another expension. Much to my interest, the returns were slowly diminishing; I doubted an ordinary Dungeon could feel it while still this small, of course, but my sensitivity to magic wasn''t exactly normal. It would, at minute scale at first but rapidly ramping up, begin costing me more and more to expand my Territory, making it harder and harder to grow. It wasn''t just dungeons who were affected, either - I could see the projection of my current growth rate almost without thinking about it, and even just in terms of accumulating mana internally, which was nothing to do with my nature as a Dungeon even if it did make it easier on me, the growth of my power would be far closer to logarithmic than linear or the holy grail of exponential increase. It was, I was near entirely certain, a general rule of this world that the greater your magical power, the more it resisted being added to; it was like trying to force two magnets of the same polarity to touch: if they were both small, you could, but the bigger one got the harder it became. I''d be more concerned, but... that was what Floors were for. Magically speaking, they were distinct ''entities'' under the control of the Dungeon, so each Floor could grow and expand independently of any other. It was a very neat way to end-run around the entire issue, and since Dungeons were absolutely inhuman in terms of magical power anyway, to say nothing of myself when I was made of crystallised magic... My musings were interrupted by the awarness that I had accumulated the necessary store of power for what I wanted to do. Touched the bond I shared with the Dryad, spending a moment to simply feel it, I firmed the image of what I wanted to do in my mind. As it turned out, "creatures of magic" are very much not the same thing as "arcane-type creatures". All Dungeon creatures are, to some extent, creatures of magic: they are sustained by the Dungeon''s power, their bodies and minds reinforced by a constant flow of magic from the Floor they reside on. Every cell of their body is infused with mana to a greater or lesser degree. Which, incidentally, is why a Dungeon gets more and more dangerous the deeper it goes, because lower Floors benefit from the pressure already applied by higher ones, thus compressing their background magical field even further, making it denser and richer and causing impurities to precipitate out where they can be processed and removed. Or used to poison adventurers, if that''s your thing. Hence, I can summon any creature more cheaply than any Dungeon but those with a similarly extreme affinity in a specific field. Of course, arcane was the elemental alignment of raw magic, and I would have a stronger connection to an actual arcane-type monster like a Will-O''-Wisp rather than a nature-type like a Dryad. But the extra expenditure on both summoning and upkeep was certainly worth it; in essence, a Dryad is something like a natural Dungeon Core, forming at the nexus of magical flow for an area rich in plant life as a regulator and defender. The wood of a Dryad tree is powerfully magical, even a young Dryad like mine was at the time - and a Dryad is herself stronger and tougher than one might believe, invariably possessed of exceptional talent in spellcraft, and can cause surrounding plant life to blossom and flourish, or leap to her defence if she feels the need. Had I been any normal Dungeon Core, I wouldn''t have been able to summon any sort of Dryad, even one so weak, for months or years yet. Without the jungle that surrounded me, teeming with life and resonating almost perfectly with the nature of a Dryad, weeks or months would have passed before I was capable. As it was, I had been incredibly fortunate to stumble across the right pattern in the endless ocean of possibilities when the idea I could have a Dryad hadn''t even occurred to me. Though admittedly, until I''d had the brainwave of disguising my Dungeon''s exceptionally high background magic - even compared to my less conscious brothers - as the consequence of a Dryad''s Heart-Tree being in the area and having formed a contract with my foolish newborn self, it probably wouldn''t have crossed my mind to start out with something so powerful. And that brainwave was the result of me stumbling onto the pattern in the first place, so... well. I was lucky. To capitalise on my good fortune, I had, in particular, selected a rowan as the tree to host my Dryad; even if it technically shouldn''t grow in these climes, they were also called mountain ash, so I could probably get away with it having drifted down from higher up and accidentally fallen into a locus of the jungle''s magic and lifeforce, so long as I planted some other rowan trees up there soon. Associated strongly with protection, as well as inspiration, connection and expression, I felt rowan would be the most appropriate choice in both symbolic and practical terms. I had been proven right; even though I had yet to set up her tree as a node in my Dungeon''s mana cycle, the effects of her presence were already noticeable. The moss on my steps was a deeper, richer green, thick grass was starting to creep in from the entrance, and bugs were setting up habitats in little cracks and crannies I''d left in the cave walls to give it a more natural feel. Moreover, there was a faint defensive aura already pervading my Territory. It wasn''t strong, but it would exert a slight pressure against hostile intruders, slowing and weakening them just a hair. It would grow in time, as she herself grew in power and became more connected to my domain. Of course, I was about to give her a pretty big jumpstart. Dryad. "Master?" The mindset I had to get into in order to do this the way I wanted was... very odd. It was simultaneously a sort of controlled megalomania, an absolute certainty of my rule over my Territory and my right to have that rule, and an attitude of upright nobility, caring for one''s subordinates as they cared for you in turn, and rewarding them for deserving acheivements. Still, it wasn''t so hard; I was an entitled sort by nature, I could admit that about myself, and on her part she had guarded me while I worked, her Heart-Tree shielded me by its very presence, and I could feel her devotion through the Dungeon/monster bond I had to her. She would quite happily die for me if it meant I would live - or even if I just asked her to. It was... terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure. To hold that sort of absolute power over someone.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Well, being worthy of it wasn''t about where I ended up in the end. It was how I got there that mattered - and I was going to start as I meant to go on. I drew up my power. Focused. Held the image in my mind. Despaired momentarily over the archaic wording the spell required. Focused again. By my magic and the Domain I hold, I Name thee Silvestre, and charge thee to uphold thine duty as Guardian of the First Floor. It wasn''t quite as bad as getting her pattern had been, but it was worse than summoning her. I felt like I''d been standing in a room that suddenly underwent explosive decompression, all the breath ripped from my chest and leaving me gasping, though thankfully only for a moment before magic began to flow back in. Interestingly, a Guardian could be a Boss, but didn''t have to be. ''Boss'' was a mostly arbitrary designation, something that tied the magic governing Floor transitions and loot provision (among other functions) to a specific entity - or entities, if one designated Mini-Bosses or multiple Bosses or even Optional Bosses, who, uniquely, could be attached to lower Floors in order to raise their strength above the norm for the Floor they were stationed on, though part of the magic required an Optional Boss to be indicated as such reasonably clearly. Being the Guardian, on the other hand, was magically significant and a major qualitative change, because the Guardian of a Floor served as the focal point of its magic as the Dungeon Core was the focus of the entire Dungeon. A Core could be the Guardian of its own Floors, but it was inefficient, and forced a suboptimal split in attention besides. Admittedly, the Guardian usually was the Boss, simply because the Guardian would be the strongest creature on the Floor unless the Core was doing something very weird, but it wasn''t ironclad by any means. Personally, however, I didn''t intend to have the First Floor be about fighting at all; rather, it would be Silvestre''s Grove, a place where highly magical plants and smaller animals grew and lived, tended by the Dryad who regulated its magic. But of course, if an adventurer did want to fight... well, Silvestre was technically the co-primary node for my Dungeon''s magic right now, since the first Floor was my onlyFloor - and rather than locking her out of any permissions, I had elevated her to something that could be considered equivalent to moderator status on an Earth forum, able to interact with certain basic functions that were usually solely the purview of the Dungeon Core itself. And I could build on that, keep her hooked right into the heart of things as I grew, letting her get stronger and stronger at a pace that would completely stun a natural-born Dryad. Let me put it this way: a Dryad, amidst nature, is effectively the mistress of a Reality Marble that you can''t escape. The plants, the trees, and the animals will all bend to her will. If she''s a powerful one, even the earth and air and water in your surroundings will be trying to restrain, defeat or just outright kill you. So in short, the older and stronger they get, the worse it''s going to go for you, and even a young Dryad is a tricky customer. If she wasn''t so happy to follow my orders, I would be genuinely worried about my safety, to say nothing of my ability to actually kick her out - let alone defeat her. Moreover, Silvestre was going to get very strong, very fast, so with any luck... well, I should be a lot safer than I had been expecting. I''d still want to start on creating monsters sooner rather than later, but... I could put it off a little, now. Of course, she wouldn''t be so strong that she could protect me from more or less anything for quite a while yet. Even in the present, however, the massive jolt of power that had flowed into her as I simultaneously Named her and set her as the first Floor''s Guardian (one, again, not being compulsory for the other, but generally ''the done thing'' as pushed forward by natural Dungeon instinct for reasons of effectiveness and efficiency; Naming is a power-intensive process, and one that enhances the recipient of the name in several ways) had made her far stronger, and thus enlarged her tree a rather significant amount. The trunk was maybe thrice as thick, and the boughs now brushed the roof even after I had raised it another three metres, spreading out wide where they could no longer reach higher to cover the top of the cave in a thicket of leafy green. Shimmerbirds darted between the branches, twittering to each other; I could feel them as Dungeon monsters, but unless I directly interceded they would follow Silvestre''s instructions, as I had assigned them to do when I made her Guardian of the First Floor and summoned them as First Floor monsters. Almost as an afterthought, I reached out to the plants by the entrance, encouraging them to grow up and over into a woody archway framing the way inward. No need to make my unusual nature too obvious - quite the opposite, in fact, I wanted to conceal it as much as I possibly could - but at the same time I did want to get visitors. Being all alone with only fanatically loyal subjects for company would be... perhaps not ideal for my mental state. I didn''t really want to know if a Dungeon Cores could go stir-crazy, either. Since following that line of thought any further would almost certainly be counterproductive, I instead busied myself with other affairs. Firstly, as a matter of priority, I snaked a tiny tendril of Territory up the outside of the mountain until it reached a height where rowan trees could comfortably survive, and - having picked up the pattern entirely for free, since one came part and parcel of the Dryad pattern if you didn''t have any - planted a few normal ones here and there, accelerating their growth until many of them looked old enough to have been around a while, though I left a couple of saplings here and there too. Then I began to throw all my magic into expanding the cavern that housed the Grove; keeping Silvestre''s Heart-Tree at the centre, and myself at the back, I rapidly doubled its size, then doubled it again, and again, and again, before finally beginning to slow down as I approached the four hundred metre mark, the roof near twenty high. At that point, diminishing returns were starting to kick in, and Territory was costing more and more to expand - I would need to harvest denser, purer mana - from deaths would be the easiest way by far - to expand further with any great speed. And I did need to expand further. My Territory served another function beyond creating a region over which I had magical and conceptual ownership - it was also an extension of my magical reserves, a way for me to store more power as I grew. My Dungeon Core could hold a lot, even compared to other Cores, and I had a strong sense I could ''cast from hit points'' in an emergency, since the crystal itself was formed from magic, but nothing had infinite capacity for heat or electric charge, and magic was no different. In order to accumulate enough mana to start a second Floor, I needed to expand my domain another hundred metres or so, which thankfully was already a huge improvement over the two kilometres-ish most Dungeons need, especially since Territory is generally far more efficient storage than the regulation- and processing-optimised Core. Half of that I could finish in the next twenty-four hours, but the next twenty-five metres would take me a little under two days, then another ten metres would eat about the same again, and so on and so forth. Maybe it was a sign of my altered cognition that I didn''t really want to wait a fortnight or so to start my next Floor. Most Dungeons sought to wring every drop of magic out of the adventurers that entered, after all, and the bigger they were the longer adventurers would stay. Still, I had decades as a human against days as a Dungeon, and with the temper I''d had as a child I had plenty of practice controlling unwanted instincts. Plus, logically speaking it wasn''t a good idea to spread my attention over two Floors when my first was still pretty much completely barebones. So I turned my attention to setting up the Grove proper. Alright, Silvestre, you can stop guarding the door. If we get any visitors act as if you''re the one in charge here; I won''t involve myself directly in most cases. Familiarise yourself with the magic of the Dungeon, you''ll need to be able to work with it on at least a basic level; I''m going to start working on populating the Grove. "Of course, Master." Her body just sort of... phased into the grass beneath her feet, before she stepped out of her Heart-Tree''s trunk - large enough now that three grown men couldn''t link hands around it - and looked around at the occasionally mossy but otherwise more or less barren stone. Were it not for the fact that Dungeon monsters could live entirely on mana, had she needed her roots for any purpose other than holding the tree up, she would likely have been in rather a lot of trouble. Speaking of which, enhancing plants was first on my to-do list. Then maybe I''d see about some of the insects that had taken up residence; several of them were starting to show up in my magical awareness, having consumed enough of the moss that grew in my cavern to start absorbing the magical energy contained within it. As I had a rowan tree pattern already, I decided to start with larger flora, since I could set them up properly spaced and then fill in the shrubbery, grasses, flowers and herbs beneath them afterwards. Lighting wouldn''t be an issue, since Dungeon plants mainly lived on mana, even if not to the same degree as monsters could - another benefit of growing them, and the reason all Dungeons had some moss at the very least, was that they absorbed the impurities in the background magic and even had a slight refining effect, making it a little denser. Still, making sure that the paths through the Grove were designed appropriately would be a pain if I had to move all the little plants around, so I could mark things out in stone and dirt first, then add trees for the rough shape, and finish up with the smaller things. Raising small cliffs and ridges, I turned the rough floor into a set of miniature rolling hills and chasms, funnelling adventurers through a maze of half-defined routes that they could, if brave enough, eschew. Around the edges, I made jagged cliffs that would nip and shear at fingers that tried to climb them, earmarked for the better results among my magical plant experiments in future; for the moment, I spent a fairly significant chunk of mana sifting through the sea of lights to find a magically-powered water source, and rearranged a few paths so that I could have a small creek winding its way through the cavern, hiding deceptively deep hollows here and there where I''d conceal water-aspected plants, and disappearing through a concealed gap beneath the wide, shallow pool in which it seemingly terminated. From there, beyond the reach of adventurers, it flowed down into an even wider and far deeper pond I''d hollowed out in the thirty-metre-thick, Territory-claimed wall I''d left unexcavated to one side of the cavern for exactly this purpose. My intention was, once I had the Grove working, to use it for breeding magical fish in, which I could then release into the creek proper. In order to maintain the right water level, a hole some way up the wall let the overflow through to babble out a few metres from the entrace to the Grove, from where it flowed away to join the massive river that thundered around the left side of my mountain and off into the distance. Once the course of the creek was charted, I went on a spending spree; temporarily halting my Territory''s growth, I bought every type of tree I could remember the occult significances of. It was a fair list, but I knew what I wanted to do with them all. Cedar firstly, for cleansing and healing, and cherry to signify awakening and rebirth. They would work well with rowan''s protection, or with elder, for transition and renewal, and the cycle of life and death. Oak I especially wanted, a particularly prominent symbol of power and fortitude which went well with alder, for endurance and passion. Blackthorn, for discipline, and fir to provide clarity, would go a way to ensuring those strengths were channelled in the right direction; power and passion undirected can do more harm than good. Hazel was strongly associated with divination and hidden wisdom, while maple was more practical magic and balance. To bridge between them I would add bonsai (harmony, and balance again), which also complemented vine, for introspection, depth and relaxation. Redwood, eternity and ancient wisdom, could be contrasted against apple, for youth, happiness, beauty, and magic, or against yew, which symbolised transition or change, and the passage of time. Finally, willow, for the heart and for dreams, would go well with juniper, a journey, and ash - sacrifice, and sensitivity or awareness. Fir, again, would help direct them, but in this case blackthorn would do more harm than good. A little belatedly, feeling somewhat embarrassed, I stretched a filament of Territory out beyond the entrance once more (piece by piece, wincing at the mana cost in comparison to what it had been before and feeling rather thankful I''d planted the rowans up on the mountain early enough it hadn''t been too onerous) and consumed a little sample of jungle earth, learning how to make it for myself so that I had something to plant my Grove in other than bare rock. One by one, having taken the time to recover my energy and resurface the cavern - embarrassing myself all over again at the sudden drop in upkeep for Silvestre once I got her Heart-Tree settled in nutritious soil, though thankfully she couldn''t tell it had just been an oversight rather than a prioritisation I''d made deliberately - I set out my trees, accelerating their growth with a steady trickle of magic. Oak and alder, fir and blackthorn, cedar and elder and rowan all linked together formed the backbone of the Grove, radiating out in lazy, carefully irregular swirls from the great rowan Heart-Tree at the centre, setting as firmly as I could the foundations that would help Silvestre circulate and regulate the Dungeon''s power. Then, once I was satisfied things were working as intended - and I had registered a distinct uptick in the strength of the background magic, the aura of protection it carried, and the growth of the moss and grasses scattered around the place - I went along the banks of the creek with the occasional ash and fir to complement and enhance, but have minimal impact on the magic of, the far more numerous willow and juniper with which I lined the water''s edge. Little copses of apple clustered around the bases of uncomfortably undergrown redwoods (I''d have to raise the roof of the cavern as much as I could; I didn''t really want to go much further outward horizontally anyway, since that would require more planting, so it worked out well), with yew insulating or perhaps connecting between them. I''d felt compelled to add vine for some reason, and in short order I found it stringing itself between the branches of every tree in the Grove, linking them all in a great living web. The density of the connections, however, was interestingly uneven - elder and willow to the apple/redwood copses, in particular, were more tightly bound than most others. Finally, maple was studded throughout the whole cavern, to mark the magic that had been used to build it, while densely packed hazel and the occasional willow built a wall around my dungeon core. These, too, the vine web reached out to. I sprinkled exactly three copses of maple, hazel and bonsai around the edges, each at the end of one of the most winding, hard-to-follow paths, each of them one of the routes I would be obfuscating most heavily as I populated the Grove. The way the vine took to those had to be seen to be believed; you could have walked quite happily from tree to tree they were so dense. Once I was done, the Grove was thickly forested, wandering paths snaking their way through vine-draped greenery, occasional bluffs or ridges or outcroppings anywhere from two or three to fifteen or sixteen metres high blocking the way and forcing detours. The sound, unfortunately, was a little thin; the creek was pleasant enough, and I had a fair population of insects by this point, but the only birds I had were the shimmerbirds Silvestre was controlling, and no small animals lived underfoot. Still, it could be fixed in time. Eventually, I intended to go through the trees and rework them with my magic, bringing out their associations as full-fledged magical properties, but I wanted to focus on what I presumed would be more conventional alchemical ingredients first, things like herbs and grasses, berries and maybe saps. Besides, some level of that process would occur naturally as the trees grew and aged and drank in the magic around them. It could wait. Humming to myself, snatches of songs from my old life, I slowly became more and more absorbed in my work, buying low-level plants and then teasing out possibilities with my magic, examining the mana bound into the structures of weak alchemical ingredients and then changing, testing and changing again as I learned which pieces of magic did what and why. It was fascinating. Slowly, more and more plants began to flower in the Grove. Goldtip Clover, a beginners'' anti-inflammatory, became Goldleaf Clover, a general soothing agent. Bloodflower, chewed for health by peasant villagers according to the rather meagre contextual description that came with its pattern, I developed into Scarletflower, which when chewed into mush and smeared on an open wound would act as a weak healing potion. Bellsilvers, my favourite creation, were tiny, delicate flowers that fell like a waterfall of silvery gemstones, and would both replenish stamina and weaken sicknesses and maledictions; I used them to garland Silvestre''s Heart-Tree, and set a crown of them upon her head. As a rowan Dryad, she was very fond of them, and they were soon growing quite prolifically. I suspected they would become my Dungeon''s signature product. And as I lost myself in the work, I quite forgot to keep track of how long I''d been going for. Even the System didn''t manage to distract me; its occasional popups served more to reassure me that I was on the right track than to remind me that time was passing. And of course Silvestre thought I had it all in hand.

By attentively tending to your plants, you have unlocked the [Gardener] Job!

By manipulating magic contained within physical forms, you have unlocked the [Enchanter] Job!

By experimenting with the properties and uses of consumable magical substances, you have unlocked the [Alchemist] Job!

By developing your own magical consumables, you have unlocked the [Alchemist] Skill [Cultivate Property]!

By utilising the properties of natural substances to develop remedies, you have unlocked the [Pharmacist] Job!

Pity, really. I''d rather have liked to notice the approaching adventurers in time to make some actual preparations.

Bothynus
Race	Sophont Dungeon Core	Subtype	Flawless Arcanite Crystal
Age	2 Months, 3 Weeks	Gender	Male
Faith	None	Patron	None
Adventuring Jobs
Job		Level	EXP
Dungeon Master		2	23.40%
Crafting Jobs
Job		Level	EXP
Alchemist		5	66.12%
Enchanter		6	25.34%
Gardener		6	34.98%
Pharmacist		5	32.25%
Racial Skills
Skill		Level	EXP
Dungeon Awareness		3	65.28%
Dungeon Comprehension		3	15.35%
Dungeon Magic		6	14.23%
Dungeon Territory		9	96.53%
Unique Skills
Skill		Level	EXP
Unbound Essence		1	MAX
Dungeon Master Skills
Skill		Level	EXP
Dungeon Architect		1	0.00%
Dungeon Commander		2	81.30%
Dungeon Supporter		1	76.04%
Alchemist Skills
Distill		3	9.28%
Cultivate Property		3	98.37%
Evaluate Alchemical Properties		6	51.23%
Enchanter Skills
Imbue		6	48.93%
Unravel		4	98.13%
Gardener Skills
Green Thumb		9	32.48%
Pharmacist Skills
Concoct		4	67.23%
Evaluate Medicinal Properties		5	23.49%

Interlude: A Druid, A Dryad and a Duellist "Are you - sure about this?" Ven turned a beady eye on his travelling companions. He had a very good beady eye. It helped that he was upwards of two metres tall (or six-foot-six if you still used backwards Iudian measurements) and built like a gorilla, but mostly it came from his Predatory Gaze. Having one Rare-class Job would see you set for life as far as adventuring employment went. You could always count on a whole gaggle of parties trying to recruit you. Having two, especially ones that went together as well as Wild Man and Druid, meant he''d spent enough time with enough people he''d even been able to find a whole party who met his standards to come with him this far into the Jungle Wastes. Plus, they balanced out his mediocre Crafting Jobs. He''d probably have died if he hadn''t learnt them young, though, so he couldn''t complain too much. The Jungle Wastes weren''t unfamilar to him; he''d been here before, a few times. Hadn''t enjoyed it much. It wasn''t that the place didn''t have any life in it - quite the opposite, in fact. It was just all so blighted hostile that any sort of settlement ended up torn down inside of a year or two, and an unwary adventurer could very easily never return from his little trip. Mother Elesia was as red in tooth and claw as she was green in life and growth. Still, he was more at home here than he was in the cities. Grunting when the damn fool lad in his shiny silver armour (all well and good in a Dungeon, and for a Paladin, but he wasn''t there yet - still stuck pushing through Knight and Cleric, though that was closer than most got who tried, the Divine being notoriously finicky about their priests swinging swords around) looked away, he returned his attention to the screen he''d been staring at idly for months now.

Druid
Rare
LEVEL 50	EXP 99.99%
One tied deeply to nature, and the magic of the world. A protector of the wild places, and a seeker of natural wonder. Minor Affinity to venoms and strength. Moderate Affinity to endurance, vitality, animals, and survival and navigation in natural environments. Major Affinity to wisdom, understanding, comprehension, life, and magic of the natural world.
Rank Up 1. Grovekeeper [5/6] 2. Greendreamer [4/4] 3. Primalist [3/3] 4. Wildshifter [2/2] 5. Plantshaper [2/2] 6. Stormcaller [2/2]

A Legendary-class Job... he''d be only the sixth in all the world. Hundred and ninety-fourth in history. All fame, power and riches aside, a vastly expanded lifespan would tempt almost any man. He''d made his peace with death, it was part of the cycle of all things... but at the same time, he certainly wouldn''t go quietly if there was another option. He had his pride as an adventurer, after all, and there was still so very, very much to see beyond the borders of the Kingdoms and Empires that littered the relatively tame western edge of Elesia. This was the last hurdle. He knew where he had to go; it had been pulling him along for weeks, the little tugs and hints that qualified him for Greendreamer in the first place. He''d never heard of the Job before he hit the EXP cap at the peak of Rank I, but his intuition had never failed him before, and he''d probably have taken it if Grovekeeper wasn''t there at the top of the list. You were lucky to equalise rarities across a Rank-Up; most dropped by one, and a Common-class Job couldn''t Rank Up at all, so once you devolved to that point... It was, therefore, a great fortune that he''d met a Dryad - exactly once in his life, but that was once more than most - as a stripling of but eight years, having been wild in the woods for four. At the time, he''d merely thought himself lucky to have stumbled across such a pretty, nice-feeling lady, his burgeoning magical sensitivity touching on her connection to the forest he''d grown up loving; nowadays, he knew full well he''d been far luckier she was the kindly sort, and not a trickster, or worse one of the ones who raged at slowly losing their homes to the encroachment of ''civilisation''. She had been the one who initiated him into Druid, and he''d always been grateful for it. Now, finally, he thought he might just be able to pay back that debt. On the other hand, with the Worldspine Mountains finally in view, he was starting to doubt his initial supposition that he''d been called by the birth of a new Dryad. They were kilometres yet from where he knew the Grove was, and already he could feel the magic being pulled away, drawn towards their destination, and the brighter, purer current rolling back out. Powerful as Elesia''s daughters were, a newborn wasn''t that strong. But even still, he would do his duty. "I don''t know how many of you can feel that, but we need to be on guard from here forward. Alaric, I want you running interference around us. Early warning, drive off predators if you can, fall back to the group if you can''t." Silent, the hide-hooded head dipped in acknowledgement. Alaric was an old friend; he spoke little, but he wasn''t the Master of the Rangers'' Guild without reason. He wasn''t far off a Rank-Up himself, which put him well ahead of the vast majority. Truthfully, Ven suspected he''d been putting off the last push; once he prestiged out of Ranger, he''d have to join up with one of the Rank II Guilds or try and go it solo. Or retire, Alaric was just as good a Pharmacist as a Ranger, and any noble would pay handsomely for his services. They were far too alike to ever settle down, though. Both of them, though they''d never voiced it, knew they''d die out in the wilderness, to a storm or to a predator or simply because they got old, and just lay down to rest for the night and never got up. There''d be no funeral, no casket or mausoleum of stone - their flesh would feed the beasts, and their bones fertilise the earth for new, green shoots, and if their friends had any sense they wouldn''t mourn, because they had died as they wished to, doing what they loved, and returned all that they were to the world. Neither of them held out much hope on the last point. Still, that was perhaps a little overly morbid for what was hopefully the occasion to precede his Rank-Up to Grovekeeper. "Lucylla, Edmont, inverse triad with me. Rikkard takes the centre." Edmont, the prospective Paladin, and Lucylla, a rather unusual but undeniably effective Berserker/Wardancer/Bard combo, took the lead, spreading out so that one was slightly to the left and one slightly to the right, but still both still close enough together that either could cover the centre at an instant''s notice. Rikkard, an Air Elementalist, a Sorcerer, and a Summoner, something of a glass siege catapult, stood between and behind them, Ven himself at the back of the formation to prevent any ambushes. Alaric was good enough that even Ven couldn''t keep eyes on him without using magic, and sometimes not even with it, so there was minimal worry of him getting ambushed out of position. Still, caution paid off, and Lifewatch didn''t cost too much mana, so it was a worthwhile expenditure. They advanced, slowly and steadily, on the lookout for danger. And all in all, Ven was profoundly unsettled by how little they found. A couple of disturbed snakes making threat displays here and there, easy enough to detour around. A fallen tree forming a natural bridge over one of the Godsroar''s distributaries was actually rotten, unsafe to put your weight on. That he even had to mention the tree at all proved how thin on the ground problems were; they should have fought off at least two or three ambushes by this point. Likely more, with how thickly the magic was flowing. It didn''t take long for the reason to become apparent, though, because as they neared the foothills of Godsroar Mountain (which shared its name with the river that thundered past its broad, sturdy base), they found themselves emerging into a clearing positively bursting with wolves. "Alaric..." Not making a sound, despite the twigs and dry leaves that layered the earth, the ranger dropped down beside him. "They''re not hostile." Rikkard stifled an oath as Edmont only barely pulled back the instinctive swing of his blade. Lucylla just giggled at both of them, then giggled more as Edmont scowled. "What are you -" Ven narrowed his eyes. A Druid''s understanding of the natural world was even better than a Ranger''s, and... "He''s right." These wolves were... laid back, he couldn''t think of any other word for it. A few had glanced over at them as they stepped out of the treeline, but after assuring themselves that it wasn''t an immediate attack they''d just looked away again, gone back to lounging or playfighting, as if they were mere pups. Given these beasts were half again the size of their more normal kin, fur unnaturally sleek and eyes piercingly bright, something was definitely up. Then again, the deceptively gentle magic that flowed over the area was oddly calming. He hadn''t felt this relaxed in years. Well, if they didn''t want a fight, Ven wasn''t about to pick one. "Alright, let''s not provoke them. Round the edge, keep a weather eye on the pack but weapons down unless they''re looking shifty." "... Uh, sir?"If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "What, Edr- oh, for - Lucylla! They are not dogs!" Tempering his natural inclination to shout into more of a strangled hiss, mindful of his own warning, Ven stumped over to where an admittedly particularly fluffy specimen had its eyes closed in bliss as the blonde woman, grinning brilliantly, furiously ruffled its fur, both hands buried under silvery tufts to the point of being more or less invisible. "But Ve-en, look at him!" "Her. She''s a - why am I even debating this? Lucylla, these are wild animals - beasts. In a high-magic zone. Just because something strange is going on doesn''t mean they won''t take your face off in a heartbeat should that something stop happening." The she-wolf, rather unhelpfully, chose that moment to let out a friendly chuff, butting her head against Lucylla''s hip. Which itself spoke of the creature''s size, given that the deceptively peppy Berserker - her sudden and entirely unheralded mood swings being the stuff of fearfully whispered legend across the Kingdom of Lumestra, and several other locations beyond - was the tallest among them by a noticeable margin. "Moonbeam wouldn''t do something like that, would you, Moonbeam?" Another friendly purl as Lucylla went back to two-handed ruffling. "See?" "... And now you''ve named her. Isn''t Alaric the Tamer here?" Lucylla pouted. Internally cursing Bardic charisma, Ven threw up his hands. "Do as you will, then! Just don''t expect that I''ll take responsibility for your foolishness when your little Moonbeam rips your throat out." He turned around. "And what are you laughing at, boy?!" Edric, bent almost double and leaning on his shield to support himself, managed to squeeze out a vague apology through the giggles, to which Ven just rolled his eyes. And these were supposed to be the best he could find... Still, he couldn''t deny their efficiency as they advanced further onward, even if that bloody she-wolf had decided to tag along. Ironically, his ability as a Druid to determine that she meant them absolutely no harm at all just put him more on edge, which wasn''t helped by the fact that despite Rikkard glancing nervously at her every so often, Edric had been converted in short order by wide, soulful eyes, and Alaric could be leaning either way given how nobody could ever tell what he was thinking. That was two or maybe three of five with their guards down when Yelof inevitably stuck his pustulent fingers where they weren''t wanted. Of course, when they finally reached the surprisingly unassuming little archway, grown of living wood that had been trained and woven with a care he thoroughly approved of before he registered what the System was telling him, he suddenly found he had other things on his mind.

Silvestre''s Grove
Dungeon
The home of the rowan Dryad Silvestre, curated by the Dungeon Core with which she shares a contract of equal partnership. No monsters designed for battle exist here, for none are needed - cross the Guardian of this Grove at your own peril. Great Affinity to protection, connection and natural magic Major Affinity to other positive magics, renewal, rejuvenation and life Moderate Affinity to cycles, change, transition, growth and wisdom Minor Affinity to time
Special Effect	Rowan Benediction
Great Augmentation to protective, healing, natural and connective magics Major Augmentation to divinatory magics Major Opposition to maledictive magics Great Opposition to necromantic and stagnant magics

"... Fucking shit, Ven. You don''t do things by halves." Rikkard''s face was pale, eyebrows high as he ran a nervous tongue along suddenly dry lips. The silver-grey text characteristic of an Unknown was never comforting - something the System couldn''t entirely quantify by normal rules generally had a tendency not to play nice with adventurers. Moreover, the lack of usual information like the actual difficulty of this Dungeon, how many Floors it had, whether the Grove was an entire Floor or just an Area... that indicated the anomalous behaviour was directly related to the Dungeon as a whole. So either this Silvestre was the Unknown (and a Dryad this new, this powerful? Strong contender), or, far worse, the Dungeon Core itself was. Alaric, head tilted slightly, glanced back up the screen once he''d finished reading it. "... Rowan?" Ven shrugged. "I don''t know either. It''s not a tree I''ve ever heard of, but given this... I suppose it must be some magical breed." "Nuh-uh!" Everyone looked around at Lucylla, who was wearing her smuggest expression, which Ven privately considered the I know something you don''t know smirk. Bardic Knowledge was almost as annoying as Bardic charisma. "Apparently, rowan is a mostly mundane sort of tree, but the people in its native habitat associate it pretty strongly with protection and connection, so it can take magic really well. No idea where it''s from, but it''s nowhere around here. Doesn''t even use our alphabet, the System gave me a phonetic transcription but it doesn''t match the linguistic conventions of any -" Edric, bless his selfless soul, put a hand on Lucylla''s arm, breaking her out of the monologue before it got rolling too fast to stop. That meant he''d have to put up with her put-out pout for a while, but Ven had been a young man once and he''d had plenty of experience since - he didn''t expect Edric would consider it a hardship. Almost a pity this was a temporary arrangement, in some ways. Watching the little preacher try and keep it together (and keep it in his robes) would be fucking hilarious. ... Shit but he was getting old. Huffing to himself, leathery-soled feet and wooden staff setting an irregular three-thumping rhythm, he stepped into the Dungeon proper. And his jaw promptly dropped open.

Silvestre was, despite herself, a little worried. Master had done so much for her, and she had yet to find an opportunity to repay him. Simply in bringing her forth into the world, he had provided her with such a wonderful Heart-Tree; then, so soon after, he had Named her, entrusting her to be the Guardian of his first - and only! - Floor, and even allowing her a level of access to his magic that her Innate Knowledge told her was all but unprecedented. Her strength had grown so great, so fast... she was still nothing compared to Master, of course, but she would already be considered respectable among her sisters, had she come by that power through slow aging and steady growth. In all honesty, she hadn''t believed herself worthy. She had no experience, and Innate Knowledge could only take her so far. So she had striven to prove that Master''s trust in her wasn''t misplaced, feeling out the structure of the Dungeon, the unique flows and coils of its magic, the things that could be done with Master''s power no mortal - no Dryad, save the very eldest, and even then only for some of it - could hope to replicate. The Shimmerbirds Master had provided her were beautiful, but quite mundane; she had shaped them slowly, helping them grow fleeter both on foot and in midair, able to soar and swoop and turn so much faster than before. Their feathers sparkled and shone (and, indeed, shimmered) in so many wonderful colours, so she showed them how to control that change, that they could hide themselves away or draw attention or even disguise themselves as other types of bird, should the mood strike them. Mossy cracks in the cavern walls were home to the insects her Shimmerbirds largely fed upon - these, breeding quickly, eating moss that grew more quickly still and was purely sustained on Master''s magic, very soon began to change all on their own. They grew larger, hardening their carapaces or sharpening their mandibles or starting to dart and twirl in midair. Mostly she left them alone... save for giving them a little nudge to alter their pigmentation. She very much enjoyed the swirling tapestry of colour that resulted, bright points of single colours desperately evading ever-changing, rippling streaks. Slowly, the habitat grew and evolved, rodents and serpents and other insects and birds and suchlike all attracted by Master''s powerful magic and maybe even her presence within it. She made sure things stayed balanced, that no species grew out of hand or died away, making small, careful changes here and there. Perhaps she overdid the colours a little, but would Master really begrudge her an honest error? She didn''t think so, but her heart quivered in her breast all the same at the thought of having displeased him. However it would turn out, by the time the migrations had slowed down, her Grove was thriving, festooned almost as thickly with animal life as plants. Best of all, Master continued to provide her with more and more wonderful additions to her little garden. Sometimes he would give her specific orders, like the little bursts of rounded blue leaves he told her to hide in the deepest swirls under the merry little brook that wound about her Heart-Tree''s roots, or the purple-fronded fern that was only to grow atop the Jagged Cliffs that lined the north wall, but mostly he let her shape his domain as she liked so long as she didn''t disturb the trees. Not that she''d dare, of course; Master''s insight into natural magic was far deeper than hers, and she couldn''t possibly have woven such an amazing harmony. It only went to show how far she was from deserving the trust he had put in her to properly manage his Territory. Still, he had been so distant, entirely absorbed in his work, and while she was happy he was enjoying himself, and ecstatic to receive each and every gift for her Grove (each one a plant he had personally - personally! - worked on), there had been an ever-lingering concern that she simply wasn''t all that interesting to him, that she was a convenience or even a bother. And naturally she would be willing to serve him however he required, even should he take it for granted that it would be so (and it always would), but the thought that she might be a burden on him had gnawed at her so. It was why she had been so overjoyed at that great burst of satisfied accomplishment he let out one morning, when he immediately turned to her presence to show her what he had made, not because he wanted her to do anything with them, but simply to share that happiness with her. Bellsilvers, he called them, a tumbling cascade of oh-so-delicate silvery petals she fell instantly in love with, filled to brimming with vitality as they were - and he had laughed, and fashioned her a crown of them he set upon her head with the touch of his own magic, and told her that he thought the brilliant colours she had brought forth from her Grove were simply beautiful. She had almost cried. But thankfully, she had managed to present a composed front to her Master, a brilliant smile shining through as she clasped her hands demurely before her to stop them trembling. Really, she didn''t think he knew what that sort of gift meant to a Dryad. It was selfish of her, not to tell him... but she wanted to keep the illusion, for a little while longer, that he might love her even just a fraction as much as she loved him.

Bellsilver Crown

Mythic

A gift to the Dryad Silvestre from her Master, this living wreath of Bellsilvers is steeped in both powerful magic and heartfelt love. Mighty an artefact as it may be, its owner treasures it as a symbol of her worth to the one for whom she would give everything and anything, if he only asked. Produces Royal Bellsilvers at a rate proportional to the wearer''s magical strength and affinity to natural magic. Functions as a magical focus perfectly attuned to the wearer, and allows them to touch the natural magic around them if they cannot already. If they can, it improves that ability. Fantastic Affinity to connection Great Affinity to life, healing and natural magic

"My Lord? The report you requested." The shadowy figure waved an absent hand. No further words were spoken; the sheet of parchment was set upon the desk, and the lackey withdrew with a respectful bow.

For His Lordship, all current information on the adventurer known as ''Wilder'' Ven: Human, male, 74 in adventuring condition, unmarried without heir Druid (Rare) 50, capped; Wild Man (Rare) 44~46, Survivalist (Uncommon) 40~49. Herbalist (Uncommon) 35~45; Butcher, Chef, Woodworker (Common). Mana approx. 3.87 on His Lordship''s standard index, highest affinity towards life and nature, also strong in wind and water, some level of accomplishment in lightning. Excellent control and wide grasp of subtlety and cunning; favours nonstandard battle tactics. Wild Man Job provides exceptional physicality to complement Druid''s high mentality. Survivalist emphasises scavenging, improvisation, endurance and overcoming difficulties by ingenuity. Cutting off resources and/or slowly wearing down nonviable. Seeking a Dryad to unlock a Legendary-class Rank-Up for Druid. Recently recruited strong party (4 other members, all but one with positive prior history, special attention member Master Ranger Alaric) to venture into the Jungle Wilderness. Driven, pushing for time, was offering high rewards. Is known to have some low level of prophetic instinct.

In the low moonlight from the window, a pair of lips could be just barely made out as they turned upwards. It was not a pleasant expression. "... How fortunate." A rapier blade glimmered softly.