I’m pretty confident the only reason Box hasn’t struck is because Katrina is still inside the Dungeon. Which makes sense, though Box hasn’t yet deigned to tell me exactly what is restricted when a human is inside - last time I only learned because it didn’t let me do it once I tried.

Biyaban can talk now! Wait, can he translate for me? This might be the best turn of events ever! Well, ok, learning about the horrible mistreatment by the corporate elite, or something like that, of a young woman isn’t great, but… Everything else at least!

[An adventurer dares to sully your halls!]

Sometimes Box is really melodramatic.

Glancing at the front, I can see a rather frantic looking Dutch marching his way towards my right hand door. Despite my recent improvements, I’m quite happy he chose Rule 2, because I’m pretty confident that even if my beefed up defenses were capable of combating him, their current state of disrepair would ensure my demise.

He rushed past the remains of all the wolves and yet-to-respawn undead. The really big wolf knew some kind of mana attack that dealt with my ghosts, sadly. Their constitution wasn’t exactly the greatest, I’ve learned.

My ‘grasping hands’ tunnel was already unearthed, so he sprinted through there as well, powered his way through the swamp and quickly emerged into Biyaban’s room.

His eyes took in the room quickly, eyeing the clearly more dangerous Biyaban for a moment before moving on to the still-standing phalanx of [Zombies] that had held the line against the wolves trying to get to Katrina. Once he spotted her he let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank the Gods, Katrina. I heard that you had disappeared in this direction right as Kurell told me the Dungeon was under attack by that pack. Here, let me get you out of here and back home.”

The phalanx parted immediately, allowing Katrina freedom of movement. I could practically hear the hesitance emanating from her, undoubtedly a valid concern as this ‘Gargaren’ family wouldn’t release her if they learned of what occurred. I decided to try and help, as well as seeing if communicating via Biyaban actually worked. I thought really hard about what I wanted him to say and directed him to speak to Katrina.

The young redhead had already begun stepping forward, but was intercepted by Biyaban, who stayed a ‘safe’ distance away, hopefully preventing his rather frightening countenance from negatively affecting her. When his voice emerged, it was still raspy and dry, but seemed to lack the presence he’d held before. Which made sense, based on the circumstances.

“Tell Dutch the truth. He is… Honorable. He can help you.” Which was true to the best of my knowledge. Even knowing he was being watched the entire time he was inside the Dungeon, he’d never shown any signs that he wasn’t exactly as he appeared. A rugged, old Dungeon-diving veteran. His interactions with John also told me much about him. The rest I had to extrapolate and really hope was true.

“It is not my secret to tell… But the great master will try and help you if you return.” It wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it was better than nothing.

Truth was, I couldn’t stop Dutch from taking her, and Biyaban wasn’t as verbose as I would need him to be to fully explain everything. But if she told him, then I hoped she would at least have a chance. Maybe.

Katrina gave Biyaban a sullen nod, her blank face returning, even though I could see pinpricks of water forming at the edges of her eyes. I really wish I could do more…

Dutch seemed curious, but was rather firm on getting her outside and to ‘safety’. Hopefully she could tell him the truth of the matter, and if he’d been a perpetrator of her abuse I expected she would have spoken up.

I watched them leave, departing my halls and rising to the surface. I really hoped things turned out for her, but I was just a collection of tunnels, rooms, and angry undead (plus a few faeries) that couldn’t communicate worth a damn. My very metaphorical hands were rather tied.

The moment their presence disappeared from my notice, Box ambushed me.

[You’ve successfully defended your Dungeon from attack!]

[Calculating Rewards…]

[Level Up!]

[You’ve reached Level 4.]

[Leveling increases your Mana Cap, Maximum Size, Minion Cap, and Mana Regeneration.]

[1 Trait point awarded.]

[New Trap and Minion options appear as you Level Up.]

[Mana refilled.]

[Experience Gained!]

It was kind of funny, I hadn’t even had a chance yet to spend my other trait point, so I now had two. I’m rich!

[Perk Acquired:]

[For I Am Legion]

The path of the Necromancer is fraught with peril, and allies are hard to come by. You’ve learned to make your own to better defend yourself and your interests.

For surviving against a physically superior force with the crushing weight of numbers, you’ve earned this perk. Quantity is a quality all its own, but why not possess both?

All undead units cost +2 mana. Doubles the amount of undead units spawned. Upgrade costs follow the same formula (double the cost, minus upgrade discounts).

[Death-Mana Alignment has been increased!]

Holy shit. The ramifications of the perk swiftly coursed through my head - as part of my testing on my second floor, I’ve learned that that ‘Minion Cap’ of each room and floor only counts the cluster of mobs spawned as one unit. An easy example is if I spawned a [Ghoul] and a pack of five [Zombies] in the same room, I’d have only increased my minion count by two.

For a little bit more mana, this perk effectively doubles the amount of monsters I get (at least, the ones taking part in my core defense). Sweet mother of pearl.

For some reason, [Cursed Sword] counted as an undead creature, which made sense to some degree. [Blessed Sword] did not, which I assumed meant that it was referring to the type of energy used to raise it? It did seem strange, because I had two units that were very similar to what I would call ‘Death Aligned’. Namely, [Lifedrinker] and the aforementioned floating sword.

If I was to hazard a guess before this, I would have said it was the type of sword being animated that determined the effect, whether it be holy burning or necrotic damage. Instead, it seems Life and Death mana both have ways of animating a sword, and the final result is identical except in terms of what kind of damage is dealt, and both also have a way of sucking the life out of people.

Which is odd, since one wouldn’t associate ‘Life Energy’ with taking it away. Granted, it makes sense to an extent, but I would have assumed it was healing or something. Which I did, and is why I invested in it with my 1st trait point.

I’ve since learned that everything Boxy deigns to give me will possess some way of killing somebody, and might have a way I can twist it to help people.

Since I’m this far in, and I really didn’t see any other traits that I think would help people in the slightest, I’m just gonna keep investing and hope. Fingers crossed!

Wait, I don’t have any. Damnit!

[Perk Acquired through unique actions!]

[Deal With The Devil]

In an attempt to foster relations with a human you could potentially use as a spy, you saved their life and defended them with all your might. Their desperation is your gain.

Katrina Desdemona will be offered a contract to gain a class, or subsume their existing one if she already possesses one. Should they accept it, she will be able to be summoned to your Dungeon at will. She will not lock any features of the Dungeon while inside.

You will be able to grant her a mana stipend to either assist her growth or help manage your Dungeon. To that end, you may grant her access to various Dungeon systems at will, usable while inside your sphere of influence.

In exchange, their classes' growth will be guided by the Dungeon.

Contract is irrevocable.

…

The name is incredibly accurate, at least. You know Box, I thought you couldn’t get any lower than you already were, forcing me to become a raiser of the dead just to survive, and yet, here we are.

Box truly is a cold, callous, calculating individual. It knows she's going to accept. In fact, if the specifics of this contract weren’t tailored specifically to her desires, then I’m secretly a faery of love, hope and joy in disguise.

Seriously. Firstly, it lets her just have an escape route to the Dungeon, or away from the abusive home for free. Secondly, she is given the tools needed to be really useful to me. Having someone else to bounce ideas off of, or help manage a big project I have no doubts I’ll be doing someday, will be incredible. Lastly, the ability to grow stronger. I’m pretty confident my rate of growth is significantly higher than an adventurers, which likely means hers will be as well.

Wrap that all into a package, tie it off with a bow and vow of eternal servitude, and BAM! A Deal has been struck.

Fuck me, this is too much.

If she knows what's good for her, she’ll decline it. Unfortunately for the voice of hope that wishes for that, the significantly larger voice of reason and logic tells me she’s definitely gonna take it.

I decided that since my perk was entirely out of my control, I’m better off just leaving it alone and dealing with the consequences later.

Not even an hour later, a faint pop could be heard from my core room as a scuffed up, blue-dress wearing redhead appeared without warning.

The depressing weight of her impending punishment was a familiar weight to Katrina. As the Dungeon had asked, she’d told Dutch a bit about her ‘family’. The Gargarens, though she was living alone and independent enough when they moved into town, had ‘adopted’ her shortly after they established themselves.

To the townsfolk, their son and her ‘falling in love’ was a fairytale ending come true - the Gargarens darling son and the daughter they never had getting married was truly a union blessed by the gods.

Of course, they didn’t know about the times when their son was overzealous with the fire poker and she had to stay inside for over a week. Everyone was happy when she recovered from her ‘illness’ and she came outside again. Or the time the Gargaren patriarch pushed her down the stairs, not out of anger, spite, or anything like that. No, he just felt like it. It brought him happiness.

The mother would whisper barbed insults into her ear at every opportunity - Things like how she should be grateful that they took her in and treated her properly. How her parents would be so proud of where she was today. Small things, nothing that immediately sounded cruel to any of the other villagers, but were stabbed into her like a knife and oh so gently twisted.

For Katrina, the worst part was that she didn’t know why they targeted her. She’d known of them before she left the capitol, but nothing in particular, merely rumors. Her own parents had died relatively young, in a freak accident that had left her alone. Nobody else in her family that she knew of was still alive. Perhaps there was another, somewhere, that would continue the line, but Katrina couldn’t have cared less anymore.

If the Desdemona line died with her… She would be happy.

It had brought her nothing but suffering, in the end.

Dutch, bless his heart, had already been at least minorly suspicious of her situation, and after Biyaban’s words he was even more so. There was nothing he would be able to do, however. Their village was fairly large, ranging to nearly 400 people. Being the only settlement on this side of the mountains meant everyone congregated together for survival. The Gargarens were a large part of that - they brought nearly 40 workers with them, some being skilled laborers and many knowledgeable farmers, as well the manpower to support them.

The rest of Home had varying skill sets - retired adventurers, like Dutch, families who didn’t want to live under the auspices of the crown, and others who’d fled the country for various reasons.

With the Gargarens controlling as many people in the village as they did… Saying whoever shouts the loudest gets heard was an understatement, if anything. They had the voices to drown out most dissenters, if there were any (there were not).

They play up the perfect family and hide their preferences behind closed doors to ensure nobody important ever realizes the truth.

So it was with a large amount of dread that Katrina witnessed Sindry Gargaren approaching, anger clouding her eyes as Dutch brought her home. A gentle smile graced her lips as she took them both in, an utter lie that whispered false niceties into the ears of all who saw it.

“Oh you gave us such a scare, Katrina! I’m so glad to see you’re alright and unharmed. And thank you, Dutch, for saving our little girl. How in the world am I ever going to make it up to you?” The Iron Knight had been suspicious since he’d heard Biyaban’s rasped words, but Katrina had not spoken since they’d started walking back into Home.

There was nothing he could do without proof, after all, and the Gargarens were, if nothing else, very careful in their predations. Perhaps if they were less important to the village, then he could investigate without compunction, but the impact of falsely accusing them would be far-reaching. Or at least, potentially make Home unlivable for its primary protector.

So it was with a harsh grip on her arm that Sindry led her into the large, opulent home the wealthy Gargarens had built for themselves. The moment they crossed the threshold of the door the mask disappeared, and the true Sindry appeared. A sneer, a far more natural look, dominated Sindry’s face, and the words she snarled out were pure poison and wrath.

“Idiotic trash. What were you thinking? That hellhole took our son from us, your future husband, and you went on to go give it a nice little visit? Trying to think for yourself is a punishable offense, oh daughter of mine. Perhaps one of these days we’ll succeed in beating the stupid out of you.” Katrina was quickly led to her ‘room’ in the large house. She didn’t have any good memories of it, as it was solely a place for her to sleep and to try and survive the attentions of her caretakers.

It was where she spent all of her time convalescing from the longer injuries she’d been given, and she suspected she was going to be spending some quality time there once again.

The moment she crossed the threshold Sindry gripped her dirty dress and pushed her over. Katrina stumbled, unable to catch herself with her still-weary legs giving out underneath her. It was only then that the matriarch of the Gargaren’s raised her voice. “YOU STUPID BITCH!”

Searing pain radiated from ribs as a kick designed to inflict as much pain as possible impacted her ribs. She gasped and clutched her arms around herself in an attempted protective measure, but prior experience said it wouldn’t matter.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN LIE TO US AND GET AWAY WITH IT?” Another kick lanced into her stomach, forcing the air from her lungs and leaving her gasping.

“YOU THINK YOU’RE ALLOWED TO THINK FOR YOURSELF?” Her head rang as it collided with the nearby bedpost. Katrina’s only thought was that Sindry must not have planned on letting her go outside for quite a while, if she was aiming for her head anywhere. Her voice dropped from a shrieking yell to a deadly whisper.

“Don’t you worry. Terrik is going to make sure you can never forget the truth of your status ever again, toy. In fact, I hear him now. Oh, how I look forward to seeing the faces you make when he breaks you. Give me a nice show and I’ll contemplate letting you sleep in your bed tonight, even. How generous am I?” She couldn’t answer the obviously rhetorical question, her breath not having returned yet and her vision swimming from the kick to the head.

The redhead was barely cognizant enough to realize the door had opened again, and the patriarch of the family, Terrik Gargaren appeared, a many-headed short whip in hand, built for punishing slaves and prisoners.

“Oh honey, I see you’ve already started disciplining our young charge. Would you mind if I joined you?” Their sickly exchange made bile rise in her throat - or maybe it was the second kick to the stomach Sindry happily delivered to her, causing her to hunch into herself even further.

“But of course, dearest. It would bring me great joy.”

It was likely only 10 or 15 minutes later, as their harsh beating continued, but Katrina could only guess that based on repeated and numerous prior experiences. Unlike the other times, however, they didn’t simply leave the room. With a massive expenditure of will, she forced her brain to process the words that were leaking into her consciousness from her ears.

“We own you, mind, body and soul. We preserved you for our son, a beautiful flower he could wear like a nice brooch, but now he’s dead. And off you went, cavorting into the same place that killed him without a care in the world. Well, since you clearly don’t care for our loss, then you shall pay us back with your body once more, in a new way.”

A meaty fist grabbed the back of her dress, and she was suddenly sent flying onto the bed with a scream of pain as her ribs creaked from the rigorous abuse they’d received. The sudden tensing of her back sent blinding streams of incandescent pain streaking through her head from the numerous and varyingly deep gashes she’d received from the cat-of-nine tails.

The hated sound of Sindry speaking right next to her ear brought her down from the throes of agony. “My husband is going to use you like our son would have, should he still be alive and here with us. Mayhaps this will finally teach you not to even think about disobeying us and leading us on as though we were utter fools.”

She continued to speak, but Katrina’s attention was stolen entirely by the System window that had appeared before her.

[Deal With The Devil]

What would you be willing to do in exchange for safety and protection? For a change of masters? Though your fate will be in another's hands still, they might be willing to protect you where your ‘family’ does the opposite.

The currently unnamed Dungeon that saved your life offers you a deal.

It will control your class. It will own you, in every way that matters. You will support it, and if it so chooses it will support you.

Accepting this deal will teleport you to the core room of the Dungeon to be finalized.

[Accept] — [Decline]

Even through Katrina’s pain-riddled mind, the consequences of what she saw before her eyes were immediately clear. The System, for all its hidden cruelties, ensured the recipient of its knowledge understood what they were looking at even if they could barely see to read the text. The Dungeon that had defended her and saved her life, and tried to offer her advice to some extent, was extending a metaphorical hand.

Be mine, it whispered.

Perhaps, in nearly anybody else’s shoes, they would have declined the offer. Katrina had heard of Deals like this before, and the one thing that was inherently true in all of them was that the more skewed the offer, the greater the opportunities, should luck favor the taker.

Potential growth and power were the farthest thing from her mind, however, when she gratefully selected her choice. The only things she thought of was getting away from the Gargarens, and being useful to someone, or something outside of being a convenient target of abuse.

She finally had a chance to give her life meaning, even if it was merely to give it to someone else.

[Deal Accepted]

The world spun around her and colors all coalesced into one giant stream of light, blinding her to everything else as she vanished from her room and fell to the ground with a pained grunt to the hard earth in a dark room.

Katrina had appeared in my core room just long enough to gently caress the crystal that I was fairly confident represented my physical form with bloodied hands, immediately collapsing into unconsciousness afterwards. Based on the ragged and bloodied state of her clothing, I assume the family members she spoke of didn’t take kindly to her machinations.

Which meant that she’d accepted the deal. Just like I knew she would. Idiot girl.

But based on her state, it seemed like the teleport function had actually saved her from something, so maybe she didn’t have a choice. Either way, she was my responsibility now, and seeing the evidence of what happened within an hour of returning to her ‘guardians’ would have left me trembling with fury had I a body with which to do so.

Unable to punch a wall, scream into the air, or otherwise vent my rage, my only choice was to focus and channel that raw anger into a cold, icy hatred. I might not be… human, or something like one anymore, if my memories were anything to go by, but I knew what I valued. Liberty, agency, the ability to choose for oneself.

Just like her, I was stuck, in a slightly different way perhaps, but stuck all the same.

Now we were stuck together, not that it made things better, but I understood her better than I ever thought I could.

If Dutch was forced to come and retrieve her again, I could always just teleport her back, so keeping her inside the Dungeon and safe from her ‘family’ was easy enough. It was if Dutch decided to accept ‘Rule 1’ that really concerned me. Which meant I needed to prepare, though I had some ideas in case someone did come looking without intending to murder me.

I moved the unconscious girl to a room immediately off my core room, laying on a pile of leaves and anything soft that Box offered to me through [Dungeon Manipulation]. It wasn’t the greatest bed, but it was the best I had for now.

Next, I decided I couldn’t just leave her in pain and with potentially life-threatening injuries. Each time I leveled up it told me it would change what monsters were available for me to summon, and it seemed like the Life-side had something to offer me now that was actually useful.

My options had expanded to include some of the more nature oriented types of creatures I knew of, but each one in some way shape or form had ties to various Life associated things. Rebirth, rejuvenation, restoration, and similar things.

I was interested in the [Spriggan] until I noticed its healing really only extended to itself, and the tooltip seemed to imply its only other magic was offensive in nature. The most interesting option that appeared to me, however, was the [Novice Shaman]. Shamans, from my prior memories, indicated it could go in one of two directions.

First was the more mystical variant that focused on medicines, visions, and offerings to the land. The second was the more magical version that worked with spirits of the land to channel their power, using it to cast elemental magic of varying kinds. Since this world was filled to the brim with magical shenanigans, I assumed it was going to be closer to the second option, though the tooltip was fairly generic and non-specific.

If it was, I sincerely hoped that included a healing spell. Or something that was useful.

Enough dithering, I supposed. Since they weren’t undead, they didn’t get the boost and cost increase from [For I Am Legion]. For a decent cost of eight mana, I summoned up the [Novice Shaman] in the room with Katrina, and commanded it to help her as best it could.

One thing I thought was odd was that the summon didn’t explicitly say what race the shaman would be, which meant I might get one of a different one the next time I summoned one. My first, as it was, looked exactly like a fantasy orc female would.

She was large, easily clearing six feet, with bulky musculature and a stocky frame. Her hair was threaded together with beads, a thick, coarse black mane that erupted down her back. She wore basic armor that looked like leather, with a shield and mace as her weaponry.

It was an interesting addition to my Dungeon, but I had no doubt she would be useful. I was proven correct when she started waving her hands about with a look of concentration on her face, droplets of water slowly streaming out of the air and between her fingers.

Several seconds passed, and the spell was finally complete with a grunt and a flung out hand. The water itself didn’t seem to move, but rather glowed green briefly and vanished while a green glow simultaneously suffused Katrina, and I saw the bloody streaks across her back through her torn dress begin the process of closing. The smaller ones closed almost completely, and the larger ones began to form scabs and ceased bleeding, the redness surrounding them easing off as the spell hastened the healing process.

That had taken a decent amount of the shaman’s mana, but they immediately began casting again, and I saw their total reserve tick back up by one. I added the additional commands to protect her in addition to healing her, though we were likely all screwed if something made it this deep.

Although the shaman didn’t really look anywhere, it acknowledged my commands with a bowed head and said “Yes Master.”

It took me by surprise, but I suppose Biyaban heard me to some extent as well.

With Katrina in… Safe hands, I suppose, I allowed my focus to expand once more to the hallways leading to my depths. [For I Am Legion] automatically applied itself to my existing undead, and I expanded the side rooms in Biyaban’s boss area because the already tight space had left them quite literally stacked one atop another. The other rooms were all fine, so I left them as is.

I had 192 mana to work with, and I needed to begin populating my second floor. It already held a decent amount of undead, also doubled in number now, but they were mostly the weaker variants. Instead of any brand spanking new units like I’d received in the Life-Alignment monster category, I’d gained the ability to specialize my squads of [Zombies] and [Skeletons] that had previously been totally random.

In addition, I’d gained skeletal casters, which meant I now had a good spread of diverse options when it came to attack rather than just ‘rip and tear’. While effective, being able to spam arrows and bolts of icy magic was arguably even better when added on top of that.

I was in the middle of separating and diversifying my skeleton troops when Box interrupted me with something pleasant for a change.

[Ore Deposit Claimed!]

[You’ve gained access to new crafting monsters!]

My skeletal delvers had been hard at work, and had made it to the vein deposit they’d found fairly quickly. It was my influence spreading over the tunnel they’d made that took the most time, and I’d returned them to mining out a third floor, or at least laying the groundwork for a large number of tunnels and the possibility of a larger room then I’d ever used before, that ate up most of my time. With my new level it spread faster than ever, and I had finally reached the actual deposit of what seemed like… Several things.

When my delvers finally made it, they also used their little mining hammers to find yet more veins in close proximity to the one they’d originally located. Now that their numbers had doubled as well, they were absolute machines when it came to digging through just about anything. I returned them to the second floor and had them begin plundering the first original vein they encountered.

[Iron Ore Mined!]

[Iron-Tier weapons and armor now available!]

I glanced through my menu to actually find the new crafting minions I’d unlocked and found them.

[Skeletal Smithing Crew]

Cost: 22 Mana

Comes with all necessary crafting stations. This crew is capable of smithing armor and weapons to equip your applicable forces. Armor and Weapons are automatically distributed, focusing on the lowest levels first and working upwards.

Despite its hefty cost, the fact it spawned me a skeletal crew was actually great, because it meant I got the benefits from them being doubled, and as I’d learned from the miners, a tireless, unending workforce.

I immediately created one in a vacant room on the second floor, idly lining everything with stone first. Various structures formed first, and forced me to expand the size of the room immediately, as it was all significantly larger than I originally thought it would be. A massive smithery with which to melt metal, multiple anvils, buckets of water and everything else they would need to make their finished products. Next, a large swathe of apron-clad, hammer wielding skeletons appeared, some appearing to be dwarven rather than human based, to my amusement.

They immediately sprang into action, sucking the iron ore directly from wherever it vanished off to and into their furnace, pumping bellows to stoke the fire. I immediately noticed a problem, which was that the smoke had nowhere to go, and had already begun forming a haze near the ceiling. The furnace had a basic funnel that directed the smoke up and out, but once there it had nowhere to go in the enclosed room.

My second floor had expanded out wider than my first had by a significant margin, so I could afford to punch straight up through the ground with both my influence and [Dungeon Manipulation], making a hole where the smoke could depart the smithing room. I used a cone of stone to wrap around the top, ensuring it captured as much of the smoke as possible. It was only when I broached the surface that I realized a hole with smoke pouring from the ground would be fairly obvious, but further contemplation didn’t reveal any smart ideas that I could use to hide it.

The village already knew I was here, and literally in their graveyard, so it was more having some sort of direct line into one of my rooms (even if nobody would ever realistically fit into the small tunnel). Instead, I got definitive proof that I was not stuck just under the surface as my influence expanded and I made a small vent protrude from the ground and added a wire mesh of sorts, while tilting the end of the pipe slightly towards the ground.

It would at least prevent people from dumping something down it with ease. If they destroyed the upper tunnel I would know as well, and even if they just buried the whole thing with dirt to prevent it from working, the only person who might suffer from smoke inhalation was Katrina.

I was confident I would solve any problems there might be with that before it could negatively affect her, so I wasn’t overly worried about it.

I spawned a second mining crew and had them begin their inexorable dig towards the other veins to at least discover what they are. With that all done, my crafters are set up, and my skeletons might not have such trash-tier gear now. Hallelujah.

My miners were hard at work, my crafters were going, and I’d spent a decent chunk of my mana on improving defenses. [Ghosts] became [Ancient Ghosts], my ghouls became quicker and tougher, though not to the level of an [Alpha Ghoul], and my groups of [Zombies] and [Skeletons] grew more specialized and stronger.

The undead definitely fit a theme of overwhelming numbers, and I had yet to find the time to expand the Orchard beyond its few [Skeletons] (though there were 10 now) and the one [Lifedrinker].

Helping out the townsfolk (besides the Gargarens, naturally) would currently have to be a distant second to improving my defenses, as it seemed my goal was forever going to be.

Maybe I would reach a point someday where I was confident in my ability to defend myself, but that day was certainly not today.

Since I’d created numerous rooms on the second floor, kind of like the first but larger, I decided to avoid any largely overarching themes and stuck to the spooky ones I already had, just expanded. For example, if I started a crypt theme, I extended it across several larger rooms, the dense fog present in each room making it hard to tell if the adventurers delving my depths had gotten turned around or not. With multiple entrances and hallways simply reconnecting back to the room they’d just left, I was certain it would frustrate someone at least once.

After that, I had the crypt transform into a more cave-like structure that seemed natural, with stalagmites and stalactites blocking large amounts of vision so it wasn’t simply possible to see where the next door was and walk straight to it. With those created, I even got a ‘loose stalactite’ trap that was kind of terrifying in its lethality.

I suppose that's what I needed, however, so I installed a few.

The caves were still filled with random coffins and loosely buried skeletons just waiting for the correct opportunity to emerge, and yet again were filled with fog.

One of the final rooms that would likely be the gate before my boss room when I eventually had another was just a large grassy room, the largest of all the ones I currently had. I had spawned primarily large swathes of [Skeletons] and a few [Zombies], with many ranged options. The false sun in the corner was cranked as high as it could go, directly behind my array of monsters. Whoever entered the room would be immediately put under pressure just from sheer numbers, if nothing else. A modicum of cover was provided, though it would force the adventurers into a strained position, as it wasn’t particularly large or tall.

The real attack would come when they were most distracted, whether that be because the numbers were pressuring them and they couldn’t break through, or because they were strong enough and were focusing on eliminating the chaff.

Any [Ghosts] and their various upgrades would use this room as their perfect ambush spot. Previously, the creeping fog and constant guards would make ambushs more difficult, though they would still have plenty of opportunities in the midst of combat. This room, however, was designed to push the challengers' focus to the limit, allowing multiple [Ghosts] the opportunity to strike.

If they failed, then the challenger’s attention would have to have diverted to the [Ghosts], allowing the rest of the forces to attack without a guard.

I would also add some cursed weapons to the battlefield once I had more mana.

Once I was done bolstering my forces on the first two floors I had some big plans for the third floor. Hopefully nothing catastrophic happened in the next couple days so I could actually make it to that point, but time will tell.

I remembered my two trait points, and decided to explore those options. Though I could expand my affinity type out even further, I wanted to focus on my niche, or at least help it further. None of the options I had were great right now, but there was one that caught my eye. I decided to save my one other trait point for now, and see how things went.

[Artificer]

You’ve started down the path of crafting, but lack the means to go beyond basic weapons and armor. Though useful, you know more exists beyond mere tools of metal.

Expands crafting options. Allows crafters to experiment and learn new methods.

If I was a Dungeon that had literally anything but tireless undead, this option would still be attractive, but because I was, it was amazing. Experimentation and growth took time. Time that was needed to be spent actually doing the work in question. Living beings needed breaks, they needed sleep, to eat and drink, to relax.

My crafters had none of those shortcomings. They could work 24 hours a day, every single day. The second limiter was materials - but once again, my miners were tireless, unending workers. They would rake in ore like madmen all day and all night.

Which meant this trait would, hopefully, become immensely powerful as time passed. I committed to making a second crafting area and more miners when mana permitted. Actually, I could afford yet more miners, so I added another pack of the crazy bastards near the delvers and had them go at it.

A twinge at the edge of my consciousness brought my attention to the shaman I’d left in the room with Katrina. It became obvious why when I saw her stirring, her wounds completely healed, though still clad in a blood-stained dress.

My feelings were mixed, and my primary hope was that I didn’t utterly ruin the life of this poor girl. At the bare minimum, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be worse than where she came from. Hopefully. The living conditions might be a little questionable, surrounded by the undead as she would be… Also how would I feed her?

I did learn my creatures can leave my area of influence without a problem when my delvers went off towards the ore so I could get some skeletal hunters or something.

Well, time to try and have a conversation via a terrible game of telephone.