The five E-rank adventurers pressed deeper into the cavern, their torches flickering against damp stone. The faint smell of earth and something feral clung to the air.
"Stay sharp," their leader muttered, sword raised. "This doesn't feel like any bandit den I've cleared before."
The mage trailed behind, her brow furrowed. "No… this is different. The mana density here—it's… alive."
Before any of them could question further, a chilling howl shattered the silence.
From the shadows, pairs of glowing eyes blinked into existence. Wolves—larger than any natural beasts, their fur bristling with unnatural mana—emerged from hidden tunnels. Their growls reverberated through the stone, surrounding the adventurers in a tightening circle.
"Monsters!" the archer shouted, loosing an arrow. It whistled through the air and struck true, burying in a wolf's chest. But instead of falling, the creature lunged forward, jaws snapping with unnatural strength.
Steel clashed against fangs. The swordsman gritted his teeth as he held his ground, shield buckling under the impact. Another wolf darted past, tearing at the scout's leg. Screams echoed, sharp and panicked.
"They're too strong!" the mage cried, flames bursting from her staff. Fire licked across the beasts, yet the wolves endured, snarling through the pain.
One after another, the adventurers swung, cast, and bled. They fought bravely—desperately. But Kael, watching through the Dungeon Core, wasn't seeking their victory.
No. This is only the prelude.
The wolves pulled back suddenly, melting into the shadows as if commanded by an unseen force.
The adventurers panted, bloodied and shaken, weapons trembling in their hands.
"What the hell? Why'd they stop?" the scout gasped, clutching his torn leg.
The answer came with heavy, deliberate footsteps.
From the darkness, a towering goblin strode forward—green skin stretched taut over muscle, scars crisscrossing his body, eyes glowing faintly red. He carried no shield, only a massive, rune-etched axe that gleamed in the dim light.
"W-what is that thing?" the archer stammered.
The mage whispered, horrified: "That… that's no normal goblin."
Graknar, Kael's chosen champion, stood before them. His aura pressed like a storm against their chests. He grinned, tusks bared, and slammed the axe against the ground, sparks scattering.
"Fight… or die."
The swordsman, shaking but resolute, charged first. His blade swung in a desperate arc—only to meet Graknar's axe, cleaved clean through.
The swordsman's body followed, bisected in a spray of blood.
"Roran!" the mage screamed, her fire bursting in a torrent. Flames engulfed Graknar's frame, yet when the blaze faded, he still stood. His flesh was charred, but his eyes burned brighter. He lunged, one massive hand clamping around her skull.
A single crunch silenced her cries.
The archer loosed arrows wildly, each one shattered midair by Graknar's swinging axe. The scout tried to drag himself away, leg useless, mouth babbling prayers. But the goblin warlord's shadow fell over them both.
Two more strikes. Two more bodies.
Until only silence remained, broken only by the drip of blood against stone.
Their corpses dissolved, flesh turning first to motes of black mist, then streams of radiant mana that flowed upward—drawn inexorably toward the Dungeon Core.
Kael felt the rush like a river bursting through new channels. The dungeon's halls grew sturdier, its mana veins thickened, its pulse steadier. The cavern no longer felt hollow—it breathed, hungered, thrived.
[Dungeon Core has absorbed 5 souls.][Mana Flow Increased by 8%.][Dungeon Stability Enhanced.]
Kael leaned against the glowing orb, eyes narrowed."Good… even a handful of E-rank adventurers can nourish you this much. Imagine what stronger prey will bring."
Graknar stood in the cavern, axe dripping, his chest heaving with pride. Through the bond, Kael's voice echoed in his mind: Well done. You are my executioner, Graknar. Let the world learn to fear the name.
The wolves returned to drag what little remained of armor and weapons into the darkness. Already, the dungeon was reclaiming every trace of intrusion.
The cave mouth outside fell silent again, looking once more like nothing more than a forgotten hole in the rock.
But now, for the first time, Kael's dungeon had tasted blood.
And it wanted more.
The cavern was silent again. The five adventurers were gone, their mana absorbed into the Dungeon Core.
Kael rested his hand against the glowing orb, its surface warm with newfound power. The dungeon pulsed like a living heart beneath his palm. He could feel the difference already—mana channels stronger, walls thicker, the faint sense of presence growing deeper.
But the world outside was dangerous. Rumors would spread about this cavern soon enough.
Kael's eyes narrowed.Then let's make sure no one else stumbles upon it so easily.
He raised his hand, focusing mana into a ripple of intent. The cavern's mouth shimmered as a translucent veil snapped into place. Where once there had been bare stone and a gaping hollow, now there appeared only an unbroken cliffside, moss draped across its face. A camouflage barrier—perfect for deterring curious eyes.
But Kael wasn't finished.
Through the Dungeon Core's authority, he expanded another outlet: a tunnel winding beneath the land and opening into the depths of the village river. The water swirled unnaturally for a moment before calming, the rippling surface now hiding a gate of black stone.
Here, he stationed Aquara, the Water Sovereign. Her serpentine form coiled gracefully through the current, silver-blue eyes glowing like lanterns in the depths. The fish and river beasts fled her aura, leaving the place eerily still.
Guard it well, Kael told her telepathically.Aquara inclined her head, voice like rushing currents in his mind: This river is now mine, Sovereign. No intruder will pass without drowning in my embrace.
No sooner had Kael reinforced his dungeon's entrances than another voice brushed across his mind—deep, rumbling, earthen.
Kael, came the voice of the Earth Sovereign. The ground trembles with unwelcome feet. Sinners gather near your village's border. They carry blades, greed, and the stench of blood. Shall we act?
Kael's eyes sharpened. His lips curled into a dangerous smile.
"Bandits, is it?" he murmured aloud, rising from the Dungeon Core chamber. His voice carried a cold finality."Then their doom begins tonight."
He extended his will outward, and shadows answered. The goblins, already prowling the forest outskirts, stirred at his call. Wolves spawned by the dungeon slunk into the undergrowth, fangs bared. Even the treants beyond the village's borders began to stir, their bark creaking with the promise of violence.
From his vantage point atop the dungeon's hidden balcony, Kael gazed toward the village in the distance. Lanterns flickered along its edge—peaceful, unaware of the vultures circling just beyond the treeline.
But Kael was not unaware.
His aura rippled outward, a sovereign's decree. His summons surged toward the forest edge like hounds loosed from the leash.
In the dark, the first scream split the night.
The bandits who had come for plunder… found themselves swallowed instead by the abyss.
And Kael, watching through the eyes of his Sovereigns, whispered coldly:
"Welcome to my domain, sinners. This is the last night you'll ever see."