This was the memory of an unknown soul.
Nothing of his past was shown—only that, to join the Abyss Watchers, he had to extinguish three beacons as his trial.
Darrick was trapped inside the man's body, unable to move, forced to watch everything unfold through his eyes without any power to interfere.
No one knew which era this memory belonged to. At that time, Farron Keep was not yet the poisonous, decaying swamp it would one day become. The forest was lush and full of life—beneath the green canopy waddled clumsy, adorable mushroom creatures; healthy animals darted between trees; and clear rivers sparkled among fields of wildflowers.
Darrick remembered the countless mushroom corpses he had found when exploring. What had turned Farron Keep into such a corrupted wasteland?
Was it the Abyss?
Though the owner of this vision carried noble ideals, the brutal truth was that he was weak—so weak that he repeatedly died in ridiculous accidents while trying to extinguish the beacons. If not for his Undead nature, joining the Abyss Watchers would have been nothing but a hopeless dream.
The Undead—adventurers still didn't truly understand the nature of their immortality. The bonfire visions hinted it was tied to the Dark Sign, but if that were true, why were there no Undead in the current age?
Forced to witness the man's countless deaths and rebirths, Darrick's mind gradually fell into torment.
Sometimes, he wanted to seize control himself and show the fool how it should be done!
From frustration, to agony, to numb resignation—by the end, one thought consumed him:
How could such a weakling ever qualify to join the Abyss Watchers?
Time blurred. Just as Darrick's mental strength neared its breaking point, the man finally extinguished all three beacons.
The great gates of the fortress slowly opened—a symbol of his success.
But one task remained.
Darrick watched "himself" approach a massive wolf slumbering beside a gravestone. The beast's emaciated body looked almost mummified—it was hard to tell if it still lived.
Under its silent gaze, "he" knelt, forming a pact and becoming one of Farron's Guardians.
Then came the final trial—he was given wolf's blood.
Darrick heard "himself" scream as the body began to twist and mutate.
A flood of memories surged through—
A homeland consumed by the Abyss, loved ones dying in agony, a village swallowed in flames.
So that was it—the man had once suffered under the Abyss and sought power to fight back, joining the Watchers for vengeance.
Darrick felt a sudden pang of kinship. Their pasts were far too similar. He found himself silently rooting for the man.
But hope soon turned to horror.
Amid his agonized screams, the man transformed into a grotesque hybrid of man and wolf—not a beastman, but something far more warped. He failed the test of wolf's blood, his sanity devoured by madness. The Watchers drove stakes through his body and crucified him on a wooden frame.
So that's where all those crucified corpses by the roadside came from…
Even corrupted, he was terrifyingly strong—so strong that Darrick shuddered. Yet when he faced the true Watchers, he was struck down instantly, powerless before them.
Darrick couldn't imagine how many others had failed the trial, mutating into monsters and dying this way. A wave of sorrow welled up within him.
Would I… accept wolf's blood for power? he wondered.
To fight monsters… must one become a monster?
When Darrick returned to himself, he was back inside the dark cavern—the wolf pup that had been beside him was gone.
No scent of beasts lingered anymore. Perhaps that meant the place was safe… but Darrick didn't care. His eyes were unfocused as he staggered forward.
(***)
The day the mutation in Sein Dungeon began, adventurer enthusiasm exploded. Countless explorers swarmed into its depths.
When enough people gathered, secrets couldn't remain hidden for long. With so many eyes searching, discoveries were inevitable.
Take the Gourmet Zone, for example—its location had shifted. This was the only map in the dungeon that ordinary civilians could enter, a valuable resource area.
"Boom!"
A muffled blast sounded—an adventurer screamed as his teammate was launched into the air.
Wait—what? He had only stepped on a strange-looking potato! Why did it explode?!
Because that potato's name was Potato Mine.
Hearing rustling, the adventurer turned—and froze.
A Squash half his height glared at him with murderous intent.
The Gourmet Zone had been extracted from the swamp—now Farron Keep—and relocated beside the forest region. The aesthetic finally made sense.
After all, putting a food map right next to a rotting swamp was like building a café beside a public restroom.
At first glance, the Gourmet Zone looked unchanged. But every adventurer sensed something different—this "safe zone" didn't feel so safe anymore.
Large monsters like the Barbecue Pig and the Caste Lion were still separated across the river, but even inside the safe area, new hazards lurked.
Step carelessly into the grass and you might trigger a Potato Mine.
Trespass into a Squash's territory and you'd be pancaked.
Even innocent-looking cabbages might lash out violently!
Adventurers panicked—until someone noticed a pattern:
"As long as we don't go near them, they won't attack!"
Indeed—danger could be avoided. And sometimes, risk meant reward.
High-value ingredients often grew around these hazards. For instance, a rare Endurian was surrounded by Potato Mines. Adventurers with courage—and precision—could secure gourmet-grade materials usually found only in high-danger zones.
Still, such treasures were limited. To get more, one had to delve deeper into the Gourmet Zone.
And what lay further within? Only exploration would tell.
But ingredients weren't the only surprise.
.
..
...
An adventurer stared into the vacant eyes of a chubby yellow duck. Neither moved, locked in a silent "Red Light, Green Light" battle of wills.
"What are you doing?" her teammate asked.
"This monster's not attacking me," she whispered, stunned. "I'm a beast tamer—but I don't sense any hostility at all. That's so weird."
"How is that a bad thing?"
"It's not that! It's just… even weak monsters have some level of awareness. But this duck…"
She frowned. "Its eyes are full of… pure stupidity."
The Psyduck tilted its head. Somehow, it felt insulted—then bonked her shin with a headbutt.
"Ah! Now it's attacking me!"
"It's a trap! Run!"
Aside from the dazed Psyduck, adventurers also found:
Bread-bodied Dachsbun, swarms of Beedrill, nauseating Gloom, towering Exeggutor camouflaged among trees, and flopping Magikarp by the riverbanks.
That's right—Pokémon from the forest region had been moved into the Gourmet Zone!
Food and Pokémon—two lighthearted styles—but surprisingly compatible.
And with that, Pokémon officially entered the public eye.
Wade had always wondered—he had placed Poké Balls in the forest before, so why had no adventurer except Vilde and Roger ever get one? Why no hype at all?
He later realized the problem: the forest's mixed monster ecosystem had been too lethal. Pokémon thrown in there were basically meat fed into a grinder.
And since most Pokémon caused mischief rather rarely death, adventurers didn't view them as threats—or prizes.
Once Wade understood, he changed strategy.
Originally, Pokémon were meant for traps and ambush tactics. Now, while keeping those, he introduced harmless, adorable Pokémon as rewards to attract players.
The Mana for one Crucible Knight could instead summon hundreds of "decorative" Pokémon.
He even set rules:
• Poké Balls guarded by strong but non-elite monsters
• Pokémon vanished if forcefully removed from the dungeon
• Penalties for harming Pokémon—such as being hunted by elite creatures
A foolproof business model.
Of course, deadly dungeon traps were still profitable. So why add cute elements?
Because sometimes you needed a break. Constantly designing new ways to kill people was starting to damage Wade's mental health.
He would let the Souls-like traps handle the brutality. Pokémon and food would be his small acts of mercy.
"Hey, that monster looks like Vilde's pet!"
"It really does! Maybe it's the same species—I want one too!"
"Heh, now Vilde won't get to brag anymore."
With Pokémon relocated, the Undead Settlement remained linked to the mines through the great hollow.
But the forest's population shifted—Monster Hunter creatures became far more common.
Weak mobs were purged, replaced by rarer, powerful individuals—minimum threats like Arzuros or Yian Kut-Ku.
The region's final boss? A creature capable of instant "Turtle Fist" attacks—though only in its normal form.
Wade carefully selected compatible species to create…
An ecosystem!
Fragile, yet real—and his.
The more he designed, the more he realized how complex a "mixed" dungeon was to manage. So he made a decision—separate them.
The mines, swamps, and future expansions would hold Soulsborne content—deadly, intricate, the main energy source.
The forest would house Monster Hunter creatures—focused on solo hunts and high-intensity duels.
The Gourmet Zone would combine food and Pokémon—open even to civilians.
It was a solid plan. The dungeon's ecosystem was the key.
In theory, Dungeon construction had no limit—given enough Mana, he could build an entire world.
But a soft cap existed: exploration speed.
The dungeon's daily shutdown limited progress. Explorers had at most ten hours inside—too little to explore a vast world.
Random teleports could solve that, but with his "original" storyline growing, narrative continuity mattered. Random entry points would break immersion.
So either he find a way to removed the time limit…
or expanded into new territories.
Wade looked at the letter atop the altar, thinking of the upcoming match with the Hive Nest Dungeon.
If he won, he would claim full control over that dungeon—a new canvas upon which to create.
He could even make it an extension of his own Dungeon.
For example, Farron Keep had reached its narrative capacity—no room for more plot or relics. But its lore linked to many others: the Cathedral of the Deep, Lothric, Anor Londo…
What if those appeared in separate dungeons instead?
Not only would player engagement skyrocket, it would also give Sein's story greater authenticity—make it feel real.
This world… was one great cycle of fire.
When his strength grew, he could assign entire dungeons to each universe—one for Monster Hunter, one for Toriko and Pokémon, and so on.
In the end, the entire world would bear Wade's mark.
That was his ambition.
—Main story, please bear witness.