My heart was racing along with my thoughts, but I kept my mouth shut. I wasn't yet ready to uncork that hellish demonic bottle, much less equip a violence-prone child with it. Most importantly... I needed to consult my books first.

I wasn't ashamed to admit that demon summoning was one subject I hadn't ever been interested in researching. Despite my curiosity, I'd heard of too many tragedies and horrors that had become reshelved as gruesome cautionary tales. Honestly, I wasn't yet certain I wished to risk even a peek into such treacherous waters that might drag me under.

Thankfully, Tom spoke before the silence could grow any more painfully awkward. "Lucky for us Grimmark is paranoid. We should have until August, right? The one-year checkup?"

"Probably," Hannah allowed. "A single-floor dungeon is mostly useless for real adventurers. And nobody can tell it's anything else without clearing the whole floor, right Rena?"

"Um," I said. "Not... exactly. It is possible to detect abnormally higher mana even from the entrance--"

"Wait, what?"

"In theory! But I doubt I would notice unless I was actively looking for it, and Duni also happened to be topped up on mana or close. It should be a nonissue."

"So... we have to hope we don't get unlucky."

"Really, really, ridiculously unlucky," I clarified. Why did Hannah still look less than reassured?

"Now you've done it," Tom said in a deadpan voice. "It might be unlikely to get unlucky, but everybody knows a million-to-one chance is a sure thing."

I stared at him. "Um, what? No, that is not how statistics work?"

"He's joking," Bessie said, though I wasn't so sure. "Been watching too many shows with Harold while cooking."

I was ashamed to admit it took me a few extra long seconds to place the name: Hannah's father. Shaking my head, I said, "Duni, can you tell if anybody is approaching your entrance? From outside?" I clarified, feeling its, whoops, their confusion.

the dungeon sent.

"You mean it costs mana to look outside yourself?" I asked, interested.

I frowned, wracking my brains for another interpretation, when Bessie asked: "Why don't you two do that mind writing thing?"

"Mind writing thing?" I repeated, amused, but it was a good idea.

Finally, Duni and I had a method for breaking our frustrating conversational deadlocks.

Closing my eyes, I didn't have to wait long:

BUY UPGRADE

The words lit up the back of my eyelids. It was a primitive means of communication, but it worked.

"Whaat," Bessie said after I'd repeated the message. I was still blinking a few times as to clear my vision, though it was more in my mind. "You mean you can buy Skills with mana, Duni?"

"You can't buy Skills?" I asked by way of confirmation. "And you're spending more than just mana? Oh, you mentioned this before. What resources other than mana do you have?"

My instinct when confronted with the possibility of new knowledge was to open my eyes wide; it felt decidedly odd to close my eyes in preparation instead. Duni similarly seemed to struggle with their own instincts before they shared:

CORE POINTS

"Core Points? What are those?"

But instead of an explanation:

SPECIAL POINTS

"Three resources including mana? Core has to be for Dungeon Core, right, and then Special Points would be..."

Blake interrupted my slow musings. "Feel free to quiz them all you like, later," he said. "Soon as we're done discussing how to save them."

I paused and stared at him. Looking around at all my friends, I realized: "Wait. But. No. You cannot tell me... you are not interested?"

"We are!" Bessie said. "Very interested in what Duni and all dungeons can do. You know, things that directly affect us as adventurers."

"But, but this is information known by nobody else! I mean, potentially. This could be history in the making!"

"If only we're allowed to sell the information," Blake drawled. "But what a pity nobody would even buy it without proof."

"I am sort of interested?" Hannah said. "Could you summarize the key points for us later, please?"

"To be fair, just talk, talk, talk can get kind of boring, you know?" Bessie said. "No offense."

"We can't even hear the dungeon," Tom agreed.

Any self-respecting Scholar would give their right arm for such an opportunity, and my friends couldn't be bothered to invest the time into a single conversation? I knew we had different interests, but their indifference towards groundbreaking research was a bit much.

On the other hand, maybe talking to Duni would go faster and smoother without having to keep them in the loop.

"Never mind the nitty gritty details of how exactly," Bessie said. "I want to know what kinds of upgrades are on offer. Like, Duni, could you move your entrance?"

"Figures. Hide your growth?"

"Hide your mana?" Tom said.

"Fake your death?" Blake said.

"Move your Core?" I added onto the piling suggestions.

But the answer continued to be the same: no, no, no, and no. Or rather, over and over.

Duni wasn't the only one getting frustrated. "What can you do?" Tom asked.

"Oh," I said, "That's what the typical Developing Dungeon does!" Sensing Duni's keen interest, I explained: "Rotate through every available Construct option on every floor, observe which ones are more effective -- they tend to attack and try to eliminate each other -- and make more of the winners. Starting minions very rarely make the cut."

"As soon as anybody sees not-a-rat, they'll know," Tom warned.

"Duni knows that," I argued on their behalf. "Or they would have made something else already. What have you been spending your resources on?"

"Oh! So that is how you have been developing abnormally quickly. Just by spending your resources on relevant upgrades... What?"

My friends had exchanged speaking looks. "Seems simple is all," Tom said, shrugging his burly shoulders.

"Still smarter than other Starting Dungeons," Hannah said. "But hardly takes a genius to buy available upgrades." I sort of felt like defending the eight-month-old dungeon, but she continued, "Well, maybe we can think of some way to help after all. What were you saying about moving the Core?"

"Yeah, how come they can't manage that on their own?" Bessie said.

"True..." I said. "Duni?"

I sighed and shook my head, but Hannah persisted, "So the Core normally jumps rooms and floors as the dungeon grows, but what if we tried manually moving it ourselves?"

"I haven't heard of any Core willingly changing floors before..."

But I supposed that wasn't evidence of anything. Mirroring my thoughts, she said: "But it is possible?"

"In theory. The Core can even be--"

I stopped short before I could mistakenly speak the restricted information aloud, but my mind whirled on. I had read numerous accounts of attempted dungeon relocations, which really meant picking up the Core, moving it out of the dungeon, and replanting it at a new location. All of which definitely entailed moving the Core.

I could feel myself growing more hopeful and excited, or maybe that was just feeling what my friends were feeling. "Nobody will ever even think of it!" Hannah said. "Soon as they see the Core, they won't suspect a thing. It's perfect!"

"We have to try, anyway," Bessie said. "Or else it's all over as soon as the third floor is found."

"Unless it's too risky to try?"

"No, I don't know," I said, still trying to think of some catch. "Duni? What do you think?"

The dungeon seemed as uncertain as the rest of us. "I think they don't mind if you try," I summarized. "If we think it will really help... which we do, Duni. Maybe."

The plan was audacious, unheard of... and it just might work. If we could make it appear as though Duni had just managed to start their second floor, say in a nice normal timeframe of nine months or thereabouts, nobody would go looking for a third floor for at least another two years. Which would only buy us two years... but also, two whole years!

But then I had a horrible thought. Yes, I knew this should be possible in theory, but not whether it would be possible for this dungeon. Wasn't it a little strange Duni couldn't choose to move their own Core?

"Wait," I said, "Let me just check... take a closer, comprehensive Appraisal of its bindings."

I should've done this sooner, honestly. But all this time I hadn't been looking too closely at the ugly magic, preferring to focus my gaze on the natural Core. I supposed I'd found that more polite, like looking past a major facial disfigurement, the source of much pain and self-pity, to stare instead into the victim's beautiful glowing eyes.

I hadn't shown my respect consciously. If I'd realized I was trying to 'preserve the dungeon's modesty' or such irrational nonsense, I would've curtailed my idiotic behavior sooner.

"Duni, do you know all of the restrictions placed on you?" I asked without much hope.

As I'd thought. Well, even if they'd claimed to know everything, I wouldn't have wanted to just take their word for it.

"So... any other suggestions?" Bessie spoke up. "Or should we all sit here awkwardly in silence while Rena works?"

"Sure, why not?" Tom said.

"She looks like she's staring into a glowing crystal ball," Hannah whispered.

I paused and looked up. "Oh... Duni has an idea. They're suggesting we help them gain stronger allies... stronger minions?" Again, I was somewhat oddly and incongruously reminded of a spoiled, self-entitled kid.

"Oh, do you know the different types of minions?" Bessie addressed the air.

I looked at her askance. "Of course..."

"...not?" I blinked. "How can you not know about other minions? Isn't that a dungeon thing?"

"Hey, we don't know all about humans either."

"...Fair."

"Um, I think they're saying they just pick things up unfairly quickly. You already know about Constructs, right?"

"Then what about Spawn?"

"They really are learning as we speak!" I marveled. Was this their superior translation ability at work? Where the 'translation' was no longer just between languages but directly into given knowledge?

I would be incredibly jealous if I weren't so fascinated.

"Great, that'll save time," Bessie said easily, without the least bit of awe. "Let me just list them all out: Construct, Spawn, Convert, Thrall, Summon... did you get all that?"

Hannah gave a short laugh. "This is so weird. I mean we talk about this stuff with adventurers, and now we're discussing it with an actual dungeon."

"So weird," Bessie agreed.

I tried to refocus on the Core's bindings and let their words wash over me. Obviously Constructs are out... don't have time to wait out breeding Spawns... not dominating any Thralls... leaves just Converts and Summons... I could feel Duni thinking, thinking, turning over more information than seemed to be under discussion.

"No idea how you'll convince super strong people to move into this empty cave," Bessie said.

"I can think of convincing at least one," Blake said.

The spike in emotions made me pay a bit more attention. "You mean a Contractor," Tom said.

"Plenty of Underworlders would jump at the chance. But honestly, I can't think of anyone I'd give good odds against Dominus Hellcaller. Can you?"

I winced. He was a Name even among Names. It almost felt unfair to attempt holding anybody else up to that standard. Such people did exist -- I might bet on the Librarian, personally, and I wasn't just thinking that because I was a Scholar -- but they'd be a Contractor already if they wanted to be.

Why would anybody like that put themselves out there for a measly Developing Dungeon?

They wouldn't, unless they could be convinced Duni's future potential was worth it. But here was another example of the unequal relationship between dungeon and Contractor: while dungeons were known to "upgrade" their Contractors -- even Herohall did; Knight Champion had gained his position from defeating his predecessor in honorable single combat -- I'd never heard of any case of the reverse. Their loyalty was unquestioned (making it all the more questionable).

"Wait," Hannah said, "How would we even manage to say a word to anybody so powerful?"

I could've spoken up and mentioned a certain Merchant. I didn't.

"Look, Duni is never going to make it by brute strength," Bessie said. "Not with Hellsfell in spitting distance. No offense."

"You mean...?"

"What we need is trickery. Deception. Can you think of any minions that can turn scouts around, swearing this is a normal dungeon?"

There was a pause, and then the words caught up to me, as I was finishing up my Appraisal. I interrupted their talk that had turned to the two foxes in Helulo National Park to say: "Won't work. Whoever comes in here will be at least Gold-Rankers. You can't count on simple tricksters, illusionists, or shapeshifters, which is what's normally meant by specialists in deception. Including magical foxes. And all the ones that directly target the mind leave the victim confused or insensible or otherwise acting highly suspicious."

I hesitated, but I couldn't just leave the topic there, unfinished. "I think we'd need the big ones. The masters of trickery and deception. Some vampires, genies, Fae... demons."

"No," Blake said. "We're likelier to get eaten than helped by them."

"Much likelier," I agreed with real relief. "Um, and I couldn't find any restrictions against moving the Core? I suppose it would be difficult without stopping the dungeon from growing at all."

Also, relocation was hardly the main concern when somebody approached the Core with unauthorized intent. I thought my friends were all thinking the same thing, but instead of saying so Bessie said, "Can we get on with it already? No more issues?"

I opened my mouth to join the chorus of agreements when Duni divulged, with an air of petulant reluctance:

I stiffened. "Oh no. Somebody else already invaded all the way in?"

"And you just thought to share this now?" Hannah said, mildly outraged.

"Who, when, how far along were you?" Bessie asked.

I shuddered, emerging from the memory of horror. I tried relating what I'd seen to my friends: "Um, the person was really creepy. Dressed in these gray robes covering every inch of skin and sort of floating off the ground."

I would've thought they were deliberately aiming to intimidate, except... well, there seemed little point in this dungeon except for scaring the rats, many of which had indeed broken and fled.

Wait a minute. Could this be around when they started fleeing on us?

"You mean an Executive Scholar dropped by for a visit?" Bessie said. "Poor Duni."

I opened my mouth, paused, and then closed it, realizing... of course she was right. The only logical answer was that the Scholars had sent whoever that was. And as much as I wanted to defend my presumed fellow Scholar, I had to admit just the memory of that person gave me goosebumps. "Did they try to talk to you?"

"Rena?" Bessie said when I was quiet for a while.

"Yes, um, they tried," I said. "I think. But Duni maybe didn't have the intelligence to understand them at the time? Not to mention... they were nearly mindless with terror."

"Poor Duni," Hannah repeated Bessie's words, shaking her head. Tom and Blake even seemed sympathetic as well.

I hurriedly refocused the subject. "You were on your second floor then, right?"

"How many rooms did you have?"

Duni promptly tried to send me what was probably meant to be a mental map, except perceived as the map itself. "No, stop," I said when they repeated the transmission, perhaps sensing my confusion. "Can't you just give me a number? Wait. Do you know how to count?"

And then I Scribed the numbers 1 through 100, adding 0 to the top as an afterthought, and presented this for the dungeon's perusal. Despite their disinterest in reading, I could feel their keen appreciation and enjoyment of learning.

No wonder, when they were so ridiculously good at it. Without any further explanation needed from me, they could reply to my earlier question:

5

"Five. That is not so bad. And they haven't visited again since?"

"I wonder why," I mused aloud.

"Makes sense to me," Tom said. "If they really wanted to ask this dungeon questions, they know they could just ask you."

"But why wouldn't the Scholars be more interested in a dungeon of intelligence?"

My friends didn't have the answers, and it became apparent they were also less than interested in favor of leaping into action as soon as possible. "No worries," Bessie said, "We'll just put the Core back if it doesn't work!"

"You're trying now?" I said.

"No time like the present!"

Without further delay, she strode toward the glowing white orb, set into the wall like a jewel in a crown, with a positive bounce in her step. By contrast, the rest of us were very nearly holding our breaths.

But then Bessie paused underneath, looking up at the Core that had maybe half a head on her. After another moment of hesitation, she shrugged to herself, braced one foot against the wall rather awkwardly, reached up with both hands... and then tried to pry the Core loose.

Did she think the Core would come popping right out?

After some more ineffectual pulling, she let her hands fall, set her foot back down, and turned around very calmly and dignifiedly. "Right. Anybody else want to give it a go?"

We exchanged a flurry of looks and faces conveying not it until Tom stepped forward, though I could tell he didn't actually expect any results, and sure enough he made no more headway than Bessie had. Duni by this point was radiating amused condescension, seemingly forgetting we were trying to save their life. (I supposed that was better than panic or despair.)

Then Hannah said, "Oh, fine. [Hammer Space]!"

I jolted. "What are you doing?"

"For the surrounding wall," she said. "I'll be careful, promise."

I could feel her suppressing her nerves, so this was less reassuring than she might've wished. But neither Duni nor I tried to stop her as she hefted her bulky weapon, drew back, and swung; at least she didn't hesitate. "[Weighted Strike]!"

The sound of impact was sharp and terrible, stone striking stone. I couldn't help flinching.

Duni's reaction was more pronounced. A familiar signal pulsed outwards, and in the next moment I felt an enraged swarm of rats rushing over--

"Duni! Call them back!" I cried urgently.

To my surprise, they actually listened. The accompanying hint of embarrassment suggested they hadn't meant to call the attack or waste mana like this.

I relaxed; the rats hadn't reached the stairwell yet. But then their momentum evidently carried them forward a few more paces, where the first few minions were pushed unwillingly over the edge.

One went tumbling and squeaking nearly to the bottom before it caught itself, instantly scampering back up like its tail was on fire.

"Um, it's fine now," I reassured my friends, who'd tensed and readied for battle. "Just a reflex?"

"Why did they open the stairs?" Hannah turned an accusing look on the glowing white Core.

I hadn't thought of that, and Duni seemed disinclined to explain. A moment's reflection later, I said, "Maybe they accidentally told Queen Rat to, and the stairs can't be closed that quickly?"

Really, what I wouldn't give to spend a day as a Dungeon Core. I thought the experience would surely be fascinating.

"I barely chipped the stone," Hannah said. "It'll take forever at this rate to dig the Core out. And is it going... Are they going to keep reacting like that?"

We gathered around to stare, making the Core slightly uncomfortable. As she'd said, I could tell the wall was barely no longer smooth, and lacking our Skills, our friends had to lean forward and squint to see the minuscule indent.

I backed up a pace and suggested, "We could use a Scroll of Stone Shape?"

I happened to know that would work; one documented experiment on dungeon relocation had explicitly stated using the Skill. The others mostly hadn't bothered detailing how the Core had been removed from the wall, as though such a basic step was a complete nonissue.

"I vote for that," Hannah said instantly.

Most importantly, Duni agreed. They hesitated and hated it, and it clearly went against their natural instincts, but they agreed. They might not be able to help lashing out, like jerking a hand out of fire... and yet they agreed. They were trying, giving it their best.

They even felt some curious fascination.

I felt... calmer, and not just because we finally had a plausible plan. I may have underestimated Duni, seeing them as a child that still hadn't realized how sunk they truly were. They weren't a Scholar, they didn't like reading; but they prized knowledge, enjoyed discovering new things, and their rate of learning -- or possibly, more likely that of all dungeons -- was, as far as I knew, incomparable.

I felt humbled.

I realized I was doing no one any favors by holding back. I'd heard the tales of arrogant mages dying ignobly to demons... but I could just avoid any Red or Black books in the Archives; I was sure I'd still find enough to satisfy myself on my research.

Also... how dangerous could some carefully curated extra knowledge be?