Meanwhile, deep beneath Noviel…

Ruprecht probed at the space where his influence ended, like a recent dentist victim probing the empty socket where a tooth used to be. It itched, that hole in his awareness. He could feel that there should be a part of him there, but instead there was nothing. A gap.

The chink in his armour through which the invaders had come, and had very nearly shattered him. He had driven them off in the end, even managed to kill a few himself with his gem bombs.

Ruprecht was very proud of his gem bombs. They were small and exploded into lethally sharp shrapnel when greedy hands plucked them from their resting places.

Amaranthine hated them. She thought they’d drive away too many adventurers. Ruprecht saw that more as a feature than a bug, at this point. Intellectually he understood that adventurers were meat and drink to a living dungeon like himself, and he would need a steady supply of them to grow in power and influence…but he’d come so close to being shattered. He wasn’t ready for this new life of his to end.

He didn’t see anything wrong with a few tricks to protect himself. Ruprecht could litter the outer portions of his dungeon with easier treasure. His inner sanctum he was protecting with every dirty trick he could think of. There were rules he had to follow, and follow them he would, to the letter.

But no further than that.

And he’d twist them until they screamed in protest to make sure he was safe.

Honestly, he understood why he had to have an access point to himself. It was part and parcel of feeling the rest of himself, and key to his amassing a proper flow of magical energies. But mazes and traps and rotating walls could keep him connected to the larger environs of his growing dungeon whilst still messing quite handily with any adventurers who might dare try to broach his inner sanctum.

‘You have got to be the most paranoid dungeon I’ve ever heard of,’ Amaranthine said, not for the first time as she zipped through the maze that surrounded his inner sanctum. ‘My wings are going to fall off if you don’t install some kind of shortcut for me.’

If I make a shortcut for you, the adventurers are going to find it and use it. Or abuse it.

Ruprecht was certain of that. He wasn’t quite certain why he was so sure, but he was. Maybe it had to do with some of his fragmentary memories.

Amaranthine huffed but chose not to argue. At this point she knew better than to press Ruprecht when he really had his heels dug in. He was, unsurprisingly, as stubborn as a rock.

‘Do you still feel it?’ she asked instead.

Yes. Someone is coming.

Ruprecht didn’t know how he knew, he just knew. Someone was coming. They were drawing closer now. For a long time it had been like a storm on the far horizon, something you knew was coming but were never quite sure if it would arrive or if a kind wind would blow the storm away and spare you.

But now Ruprecht could feel the oncoming storm.

They…no…He! He will be here soon.

‘How soon?’ Amaranthine fluttered her wings nervously. ‘Will our defenders be ready in time?’

I don’t know.

The walls rumbled with Ruprecht’s frustration. A few of the coin piles around him—treasure mimics—sprouted legs and edged nervously away.

The shapeshifters were one of the first monsters Ruprecht had ‘unlocked’ when exploring his new abilities. They were so versatile! And higher evolutions of the baser form developed so many useful abilities.

He and Amaranthine were waiting for the latest batch of evolved mimics to awaken from their ascension slumber. Ruprecht was really hoping for a bit more salience in this batch. The ones he had right now were useful enough, but some minions more capable of tactical thought would really round out his defences.

More conversation options than Amaranthine would be nice as well. Not that there was anything wrong with the fairy’s company, but she was very focused on the job, advancement, and increases in power. Some casual conversation would go a long way to help keep himself sane.

A prospect that was becoming increasingly important as his sanity faced the repeated shocks of adventurers and wandering monsters from the undercity all charging into his demense and disrupting his existence.

And through it all was the feeling of someone coming. Ruprecht didn’t sleep anymore, but if he did, his dreams would be the restless kind. It was a constant distraction.

We should place more traps around the entrances. I don’t like how exposed we are.

‘You’ve already layered so many traps there, it’s a miracle we get any visitors at all,’ Amaranthine huffed. ‘It’s as safe as we can reasonably make it. Any safer and you’ll starve.’

Ruprecht felt a pang of anxiety. She was right. As it was, his development felt sluggish. It was an uneasy balance, using the magical energies he harvested to grow his influence and create minions to populate his dungeon while also concentrating it to upgrade himself and advance his evolution as a living dungeon.

And through it all was the distraction that someone was coming.

I need to get back to work on my next surprise.

Amaranthine’s face flickered between delighted interest and wary fear. The last time Ruprecht had surprised her with a custom magical item of his own creation, she’d ended up phasing in and out of this plane, vibrating like a plucked harp string.

The time before that had been Ruprecht’s invention of his gem bombs.

It was a good thing Amaranthine was nigh-invulnerable when within the bounds of Ruprecht’s influence. Otherwise she might have had a small scar from the experience. Not something any self-respecting fairy would be happy about.

Ruprecht had felt bad at the time. If he had enough attention to spare, he might even feel bad now. But he didn’t.

Someone was coming.

And Ruprecht would be ready for them!