You have entered the dungeon, [Atlantis].

‘A dungeon? Here?’ I muse at the system notification. ‘I wonder if it’s natural or artificial… Well, probably the former. I doubt Mimir would’ve allowed another artificial dungeon to exist.’

I scratch my chin and lean forward onto the rail to watch the Deadheart’s plank drop. The moment it hits the dock, Jenah rushes down and weaves through the skeleton [Sailors] bustling about. The quality of the undead catch my eye. That one, carrying some boxes, is a fine specimen. Solid white bones with nary a crack or decay, magical reinforcements threaded from the toes to the cranium, enchantments designed to soak up the ambient mana inundating the island so as to not drain the [Necromancer]’s mana pool…

I could throw something like that together pretty quickly, but it’s not the individual skeleton that impresses me. Every single one of the skeletons down there has the same, in-depth and thorough, enchanting scheme. That, that takes dedication, or a very specialized skill.

Pulling my eyes away from the cadavers, I try to spot Jenah again, but she’s already disappeared off to wherever she was running to. I think. Probably. Oh well. I forget about it and let my gaze wander the docks. We’ve got the undead workers doing stuff, ships moored all along the docks, and what do we have here? That’s a big boat. Like, holy shit, that’s a big fucking boat. I could probably stuff a couple cruise liners in there. What is that made of? Treant wood and dragonbone? The white dragon skull below the prow would suggest so.

Curious, I reach my aura out to the ship, only to have it brush up against a potent barrier of aura surrounding the craft.

That’s when things go sideways.

The dragon skull wakes up, an intense speck of light bursts into unlife within its eye socket that turns to stare at me. A hundred-ish broadside cannons spout from the side of the ship and every single one points directly at me. Below, every undead [Sailor] stops whatever they are doing to unsheathe clearly enchanted cutlasses in my direction.

“Oops,” I say and quickly retract my aura. When I do, the [Sailors] sheathe their weapons, the ship retracts its cannons and the glowing skull powers down.

“Okay… Sentient ship or something. Probably not a good idea to mess with it.”

A loud Bang! noise startles me away from the dangerous ship, only to find Abernick running out of the ship's hold, across the deck, and down the plank, where he finally falls on the pier and yells, “LAND!”

I raise an eyebrow as I watch the [Prince] attempt to hug and kiss the stone floor while the skeletons ignore his existence.

“Abernick!” I call out from the ship, “There is a time and place to pursue your new sexual interests with the island, and I don't think that time and place is now. You might want to wait for introductions, maybe even permission from the [Guild Leader] first.”

Abernick rises slowly and spits whatever had gotten into his mouth. He turns to face me and lifts an accusing finger.

“Fuck you, and fuck your stupid enchantment.”

“Umm, what?”

He takes a deep breath, still somewhat dizzy from his rapid disembark.

“I said, your stupid enchantment! I couldn’t touch the damn ground, I couldn’t push myself towards the floor, I was floating alone in your hellhole of a magical achievement. It was worse than the waves. I threw up and the puke floated around me. I screamed for help but nobody came. I’d rather be tortured than go through that again!”

He finishes his peace and falls to the floor, defeated, relieved, and exhausted.

“Floating? What do you mean by floooohhhhhhh, oh, oooooh.” I clap my hands together in realization. “I forgot to add artificial gravity to the room.” I snort and shake my head, “Sorry about that. I’ll apply the enchantments before we depart, and then you go back to the ro–Abernick? You okay? You’re looking a bit…”

But Abernick has already let himself collapse to the ground to enter the realm of dreams. His snores are barely audible over the click-clacking of the skeletons.

“Well… that’s something.”

“Quasi,” Jessica calls my name.

I turn around. She joins me at the railing, a study of feigned indifference and poorly masked curiosity.

At least she’s not angry anymore.

“What's up, Jess? Something on your mind?”

Her lips quirk upwards, but she suppresses her smile.

“Are we in a dungeon?” she waves her finger in the air, pointing at the announcement I’d also gotten from the system.

I nod. “Yup.”

She raises an eyebrow. “And you’re not curious?” she asks.

I lean my back on the ship’s rail. “I absolutely am curious, but I’m also wary about going up the stairs, finding out what’s happening, and then somehow getting blamed for whatever’s happened.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “You’re going to get blamed for this, regardless,” she says as though a meteor or whatever crashing on this island is somehow already my fault.

I release an annoyed breath, “Just because amazing things happen around the amazing me doesn't mean that I cause all of it.”

“But it’s always your fault,” she counters.

I shake my head . “Look, Jess, your accusations are unreasonable and unfounded. Whatever fell from the sky and crashed into the mountain isn’t going to have any relation to me.”

“It probably does,” she says resolutely.

I rub my temples. “Jess, if you think it's my fault, how do you think I did it?”

She shrugs, “Maybe you paid someone to do it?”

“Really? That’s your idea? You think I gave a whole bunch of money to someone, and then they somehow magically caused a meteor to smite an island I didn’t even know about?”

She pauses, frowns. Taps her chin. Looks me in the eyes… and then nods. “That's probably how it happened.”

“Really?” I exclaim, flabbergasted. ”You really believe that?”

“Yes.”

I stare at her, trying to see a smile, or any indication that she’s joking. However, her reply seems genuine.

“Are you going to believe any story I tell?”

“Only if it's crazy.”

“Crazy? Really? So if I said that the meteor was really a golem created by an ancient civilization to smite their enemies and [Guild Leader] is fighting it right now, you’d think it was true?”

“Yes.”

“No, it's not. I just made that up.”

“Doesn't matter,” she shakes her head, “since you said it, then it's true.”

“Fine then!” I raise my hands. “Let's go up there and I’ll show you how wrong you are.”

_______

As Jenah rushes up the stairs, she can't help but frown at the lack of other living people. Normally, the guild’s inner chambers are filled with members training or practicing the dark arts, all to one day become a [Deathsea Captain] and be awarded one of the master's underwater crafts.

As she reaches the top, she leaps over the last few stairs in a single bound, only to be hit by a wave of noise. The entirety of the guild, a few hundred people, are sitting around on chairs, watching the battle unfold beyond a glowing barrier of bone shards.

Said scene they are watching involves the [Guildmaster] floating in the air with a shroud of hundreds of bone chains wrapping around a pulsing crystal and metal golem. The golem attempts to move and break its restraints, but the master raises his arm and easily suppresses such an action. He floats above the golem, staring down at the thing like an angry god of death. In turn, the crystal core of the golem glows as it attempts to cast a spell, but the master's chains glow in reply, releasing a pulse of energy that completely disrupts the spells formation.

“YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!”

Jenah and some of the nearby members turn around to find Quasi yelling and staring at the Master and Golem, all while Jessica stands next to him with the cheekiest smile Jenah has ever seen.

_______

How in the cinnamon toast fuck did I manage this? How did Jessica know? How did I know?

Wait–No. No. No!

“Is this actually my fault!?”

“Yes,” Jessica declares without missing a beat. I turn and glare at her, which only makes her smug expression grow smuglier, like revenge smug, like the smexiest schaudenfreud ever, thoroughly enjoying my discomfort and the contest between golem and zombie.

But speaking of the fight, it’s time to get a good look at the combatants!

In the left corner, at over 2,000 pounds of pure metal and steel, we have–

Atlantis Level 3,158

Atlantis is the first successful artificial dungeon created by a team of seventeen [Artificers]. The dungeon, named Atlantis, was used as an energy source to create and power a floating city with the same name.

Atlantis, the artificial dungeon slash city slash giant golem! The what-the-fuckery levels have risen off the charts, and we haven’t even gotten to its opponent!

And in the right corner, hovering in the air in all his necromantic glory, we have–

Davy Jones

Level 615 [Death Sovereign Guildmaster]

Level 512 [Deathsea Admiral Overlord]

Level 437 [Necrotic Shipwright Artificer]

Level 837 [Archlich]

If you are reading this, Fuck Off.

…

…

…

He seems like a nice guy.

“Who are you?”

I look away from the fight to view my interlocutor. An older woman in an azure robe and a massive afro that looks dense enough to be used as a helmet studies me.

“I’m–”

“Quasi, you can’t be up ‘ere without th’ master's say so,” Jenah cuts me off, noticing me.

I raise an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me that.”

She opens her mouth to rebut, but stops when she realizes she’d forgotten to mention any rules. She’d been so focused on finding out what happened that she completely forgot.

Her lapse is not lost by the afroed crone.

“Jenah Jones,” old afro barks, her aura tumbling out with authority. “The rules forbid outsiders on the island unless you have gained the master’s express permission.”

“[Instructor] Shanice, I saw the explosion and was worried about the master,” Jenah explains, but Shanice only sneers.

“What help can you give the master? Hmm?” Jenah withers under Shanice’s words. “Nothing, that's what. If the Master were to truly be in trouble, you’d have only come to your death.”

Jessica steps forward with a frown on her face. “Jenah rushed here to help her master. Even if it was stupid, you shouldn’t reprimand her so harshly.”

Shanice points and her aura tumbles over Jessica like a flood. “This does not concern you, outsider.”

Jessica steps forward, hands on her hips, unbent by the deluge.

“I’m making it concern me,” she glares back.

Oh shit. Is this going to be a catfight? Wait, how strong is this woman?

Shanice Jones

Level 237 [Deathstorm Necromancer]

Level 89 [Guild Instructor]

Shanice Jones is a high ranking member of the Necromancer Guild, holding the position of [Instructor]. She specializes in combat magic and close quarters spell fighting.

Well, their main class levels are similar, but it's clear Shanice has far more experience in combat. Then again, Jessica’s been getting some very aggressive skills. Whip skills… Hm. What would that look like? Ah, crud. I kinda want to just let the fight happen, but if Shanice aims to kill, then she could trigger a Mule summoning. Yeah, let's avoid that.

“Whoa, both of you,” I step in between the two women. “Clearly we’ve got a bit of a misunderstanding. Let’s just relax, breathe, and then talk it out after the golem over there is subdued.”

Jessica looks at me, and then pouts. “Fine.”

Shanice turns her tempestuous glare on me. She opens her mouth, and I pump enough pure mana through my eyes to be visible to even someone without a mana sight skill. My scowling visage is illuminated in violet, a color only possible among those with the highest dark affinity; just like the glow within Davy Jones’ skull.

Shanice slowly nods. “That is acceptable.”

I hear an annoyed click come from Jessica's mouth. A surprise, considering Jessica is usually a proponent against violence… Well, unless it's violence directed at me. Though, even that has been a more recent incident.

“Who's that you have with you?” a plump man with a big belly steps beside Shanice with a smile on his face. “New member or...” his gaze focuses on me, “a new instructor to replace Bradely?”

“Neither, Osber. They are outsiders,” Shanice explains.

I take a glance at the guy.

Osber Jones

Level 271 [Grand Shipwright Necromancer]

Level 61 [Guild Instructor]

Osber Jones is a high ranking member of the Necromancer Guild, holding the position of [Instructor]. He specializes in applied necromancy to ships and water.

“Did somebody say we have a new instructor?” another man shows up. A dwarf with a long beard and a single normal eye. The other eye, dead and gray, glows magically as it moves on its own to focus on me.

In return, I focus on the dwarf.

Beggad Jones

Level 299 [Deathsea Admiral]

Level 91 [Guild Instructor]

Beggad Jones is a high ranking member of the Necromancer Guild, holding the position of [Instructor]. He specializes in underwater combat and movement.

“He’s an outsider!” Shanice tries to explain again, but the dwarf is clearly not listening.

“If he’s to replace Bradely, then he’ll need to be experienced with advanced bone enchanting.” Osber smiles, his glowing eye now fully focussed on my [Divine] rank cane.

“He does feel powerful,” Osber adds, to the annoyance of Shanice, “though I doubt he would be as knowledgeable as Bradely.”

“Then a test!” Beggad exclaims and points to the one-sided fight between the golem and the Master. “Explain how them chains work.”

“Beggad, this is unprofessional,” Shanice hisses, but the dwarf continues to ignore her.

“Well, newbie?”

This just got very weird… but you know what. Let's roll with it. I look over at the multitude of chains Mr. Jones is swinging around and give a grudging nod of respect.

“Each link of dragon bone in that chain is enchanted with several [Rare] rank enchantments with a multiplier set bonus. Considering the set bonus is obtained from linking it all together, then it’s always active and boosts each individual enchantment to [Very Rare]. Throw in individual skills that boost bone and directly connect it to your body, and that should boost every link of the chains into the [Legendary] rank, maybe even [Divine] rank depending on the skill and level of the user.”

Shanice’s mouth drops open in surprise while Osber simply stares. The dwarf only smiles cheekily. He had been eyeing my staff, so he probably made some sort of smart deduction using a special kind of [Analyze] skill. Clever little bastard, but if he thinks that annoyed me then he’s wrong.

“You may now applaud,” I tell the peons magnanimously.

Before they can begin complimenting me, a pulse of mana erupts from Davy Jones as his chains fully wrap around Atlantis’s crystal core and the core goes silent.

You have left the dungeon, [Atlantis].

With the crystal core suppressed, Davy Jones unwraps his chains and returns them into his body, filling up his hollow insides and wrapping his bones in a protective chain armor.

He floats over the cheering guild members and hovers. His skull blazes violet as his aura crashes down on the crowd.

“WHO’S THE FUCKING WHORE THAT ANALYSED ME!?”

…Oh.

The cheering abruptly ceases. All that can be heard is the quiet echoes of water dripping.. A silent moment passes.

“Oi.” I call over. I raise my hand and wave.

Then I lower four fingers.