***Anther’s POV***

It took a minute or two for Myla and Kasser to adjust to the high mana density near the dungeon. When their flushed faces and red ears had returned to normal, Anther guided them through the last patch of foliage between them and the door. On seeing the elegantly carved stone doors and the plaque set above it in an imposing manner, the two newbies unconsciously stopped to stare in awe. Anther folded his arms and grinned at the looks on their faces. He’d found this place, so their shock was partly his merit.

Myla ran her hand along the stone, searching for the grain of the cut, but not finding any such thing. Kasser murmured over his shoulder, “So how do you open it?”

Anther proudly pulled a notebook out of his bag and waved it in front of them. “I wrote it all down here.” Then the boy stuffed it back, grinning slyly. “Now let’s see how far you guys get.”

Myla whipped her head around, her eyes wide. “Are you serious? You have the answer, but you’re going to make us solve it anyway?” She folded her arms and pouted, “that’s cheap.”

Anther frowned. “I worked hard to solve this puzzle! Before I just give you two the answer, I want you to know how hard it was to get. That way you’ll appreciate me more.”

Myla rolled her eyes. “Alright already, you can stop. We’ll figure it out.”

Anther watched while Myla and Kasser tried to figure out the puzzle. They looked all over the door, then searched around the surroundings; they even tried to decipher clues from the plaque above. Until they started feeling randomly for switches on the face of the stone, they had no idea what the puzzle was that they were supposed to be solving.

“Hey, these move,” Kasser exclaimed, feeling one of the letter tiles slide.

Anther had to stifle his laughter. It took these guys so long to figure it out; he was struggling not to give them a hint.

After failing the sliding puzzle once, the two stood around in confusion, wondering why some of the tiles were stuck. They tugged on them to try and force them to move. When creaking sounds started coming out, Anther panicked.

“Stop! You’ll break it! If the tile gets stuck, that means it’s in the right place!”

“What? But we can’t move any other tiles past it,” Kasser groaned.

“If you need to move something past it and you can’t, then you failed the puzzle. If we step away from it, it will reset on its own, and you can try again.”

Anther let his friends keep trying the puzzle for half an hour. Because he already knew the answer, he was feeling antsy the whole time, wanting to give clues and hints, and feeling impatient that they hadn’t solved it yet, but he wasn’t the one who caved first.

“Just open it already!” Myla shouted, stomping her feet in the grass.

Yep, they gave up. It was a hard puzzle, after all. Anther fished his notebook out of his bag and followed the diagrams to smoothly fit each tile into its proper place. A pleasant thump sounded out as the door unlocked.

“So it was supposed to say 'Open,'” Kasser mused, admiring the pretty calligraphy.

You didn’t even know that?

Before opening the doors, he couldn’t resist saying something ominous. “It’s a hard puzzle, but it’s worth it. You'll see.”

Then he pushed open the double doors, his friends swallowing in anticipation. With just a single step inside, they were hit with the air of an entirely different realm. All three of their heads were flooded with hot liquid and washed clear by cool wind. They felt groggy and drunk, but alert and invigorated at the same time. As if they had agreed on it ahead of time, the three closed their eyes and basked in the feeling.

Kasser groaned, “I get it now. There’s no way a place like this is dangerous.”

“What even is this place?” Myla whispered. She breathed deeply through her nose, enjoying the scent of an ancient forest. “It’s like a paradise.”

When they had recovered from the sudden shift in atmosphere, the children took a look around. The rich and diverse foliage on the ground reached up to their knees in most places. With a peculiar skill, they moved around in a way that didn’t damage the plants at all. The glowing moss on the ceiling provided enough light to see by.

Myla knelt down and fingered some leaves, “Black pepper and bee balm.” Her eyes drifted over to a pale blue plant with spiky leaves, “And ice ferns?! There are so many good things in one place!”

In the shadows behind leaves and plant stalks, an abundance of well-groomed animals scurried to hide. With deft ease, Kasser reached his arms out and picked up a cute black rabbit, holding it under its armpits. The lop-eared and blue-eyed creature panicked and kicked its back feet, but couldn’t do anything to flee.

“Hahaha! Look, isn’t this rabbit cute?” Kasser held it close to hug, but the creature found a gap to wriggle away. The boy stared at his hands and pondered. “Their fur is so nice, and they can't really run when they're crowded in this small space,” he said and started to string his bow.

Anther hurried and grabbed Kasser’s arm, “You can’t! Those rabbits belong to the dungeon!”

Myla approached the two, her arms full of ice fern, black pepper, and bee balm. “Didn’t you read the sign?”

“What sign?”

“There. By the entrance.”

Anther furrowed his brow and went back to the entrance. Half hidden in the foliage was a simple wooden sign: “It is natural and expected for people to claim any treasures they find in dungeons.”

“Eh? Really?”

“It’s like a reward for getting inside,” Myla called. “My dad says that most dungeons offer rewards to the people who can take them. That’s the whole reason there are so many explorers diving into them.”

Anther still felt a little uncomfortable about it, but he picked a few ice fern leaves, thinking his great-aunt Januiil could use them for something. He wanted to take some pepper too, but Myla had already gathered an armful, and he felt bad taking any more. Both of his parents still had plenty of meat, so he didn’t bother hunting the rabbits.

After harvesting some of the dungeon’s treasures, the children turned their attentions to the double doors at the end of the tunnel. They were carved with stylistic pictures of what looked like winged foxes, fourteen of them. In the very center of the carving was a wide hole that tunneled at an angle into the doors. Anther gave the doors a push, but they didn’t open. Kasser and Myla joined him, pooling the strength of three elf children, but they still didn’t budge.

“I guess it’s another puzzle,” Anther stepped back and said.

“It’s a pain that there’s another puzzle right away,” Myla muttered, despite the fact that the sack over her shoulders was good and stuffed with valuable plants.

Kasser folded his arms, looking over the surface of the doors once again. “I don’t get it,” he mumbled.

“The pictures must have something to do with it, right?” Myla guessed.

Kasser pointed, “What’s this hole for?”

The three stood around and thought about it, thought, and thought some more, but they were completely stumped. They started to try random things, like pushing on the winged fox carvings and reaching into the hole. Unlike the first set of doors, everything on this one was fixed in place. Anther could only figure that it was some sort of riddle, rather than a mechanism, but there weren’t any words, only pictures. He didn’t know what the riddle was, let alone the answer.

When even calling into the hole did nothing, they tried pushing one last time, and then they gave up. Anther called out a cheerful goodbye to the dungeon ceiling, and the three children turned to take their spoils home. The doors at the entrance had closed when they approached the next set, but they opened again on their own to let the little explorers out.

***Archimedes’ POV***

Archimedes threw himself into his construction to distract from the obvious lack of challengers. He had already finished digging out his fifth room. Because it was the last room on the first floor, he didn’t put a puzzle door at the entrance. Instead, since there would be a spiral stairway in the middle of the room leading down, he dug a shallow hole to hide his core in and made a puzzle out of the trap door above it. The puzzle was in the shape of a thick stone square, housing a large dial with many rings, all carved with images of celestial bodies, numbers, and diagrams. Surely, the challengers would recognize at least one as indicating dates and times.

The puzzle was simple: match the dials to the current time, and the trap door would open. The only challenge was that time in this room flowed differently than time outside. The laws of nature in Archimedes’ dungeon were entirely under his control, so achieving something like this was astoundingly easy. Actually, he had gone to the trouble of raising his rank to D just so that he could pull this off with less effort.

When someone entered the room, the dials would all remain locked for five minutes of outside time, allowing the challenger an opportunity to feel things out and maybe notice that something was off. The top edge of the trap door had the words carved, “You may proceed now, if you know what “now” is. But first, rest a little.” And below, there was a small mechanical timer embedded, counting down from five minutes. If the challenger was too focused on the timer and didn’t notice that the real flow of time had changed, they would enter the wrong answer for sure.

And the best thing about this puzzle was that Archimedes could use it to cheat. He could change the flow of time again whenever he wanted. Without technically breaking the dungeon rules and making an impassable path, he could create an impenetrable puzzle to protect himself. He had his only Red Bat stationed in this room in case anyone tried to break through by force. Building his second floor would leave Archimedes at his most vulnerable, so he had to have at least this much protection.

After that, there was nothing else for Archimedes to do. He wanted to dig his second floor, but he couldn’t risk it while an army was likely approaching. Out of boredom, he waited while decorating his would-be boss room with elegant wall carvings and floating spirit lights. Just like with the area outside of his first door, he didn’t let his Fertile Cave Biome spread into this room, so the stone surfaces remained smooth and polished once he tidied them up.

Just when Archimedes was thinking that he really should dig his second floor after all, the long ear boy returned.

This boy! How dare he make me wait so long!

He certainly wasn’t happy to see that annoying person back, but a dungeon couldn’t help but feel a little lonely when nobody visited, so he wasn’t unhappy to see him either.

However, Archimedes reached out his senses carefully and counted the number of people who had arrived, and there were only three including the first boy.

“You took ten days to gather two people, you stupid long ear?!”

Just what was the environment like outside that that was all he could manage? All of that stress, for nothing!

The two newcomers were the same type of creature as the long ear boy. One was another boy, and the other was a girl. None of them were yet at childbearing age, though the girl was partway through that process, and all of them had the same irritating ability to charm the thoughtless mana in the air just by existing.

At first, the first long ear boy refused to share his answer to the first puzzle and made the other two work it out on their own. It was a pleasant surprise for Archimedes, since he had been worrying about how to keep the solutions to his puzzles from spreading. However, the first became impatient and opened the door in the end. Archimedes could only sigh and think that it couldn’t be helped.

Thanks to the two newcomers and the sign he’d put out, the rewards Archimedes had left were looted as intended. It was more natural like that. What person would waste time and effort on something that didn’t benefit them in any way, right? … Somehow, it was a little lonely.

Archimedes was looking forward to an outsider’s first attempt at his second puzzle. He still thought it was tragically simple compared to his other open-ended riddles, but he was eager to see how long it could hold up against the long ear people.

Never did he dream that it would stump them so thoroughly. The children fiddled about for almost an hour and achieved absolutely nothing to show for it. They also seemed to think that Archimedes’ Wolfbats were “winged foxes.” Archimedes didn’t want to blame his artistic ability for that. No, it was certainly because Wolfbats had puffy tails similar to a fox’s. Any person who didn’t know about Wolfbats might think they were foxes. Anyway, it was a small matter that shouldn’t even bother him—it didn’t bother him.

When the children finally gave up on the second puzzle and made to leave, the long ear boy shouted his goodbye at the ceiling. "I promise I’ll come back if I can sneak out again! Once the inspection proves that you’re safe, I’ll come all the time!"

Archimedes' head turned at blinding speed. “Ah, I understand. So that's what happened.” Like the boy said he would, he surely told everyone he knew about Archimedes. Similar to his last world, the people here had a process for evaluating dungeons. Until that process was complete, they probably didn’t want anyone going inside. So the boy had snuck out to come see him.

It's not like I'm happy he snuck out to see me, but I am grateful for the information.

Archimedes would be on his best behavior for the inspection. If only he knew what their procedure was.

The first puzzle automatically unlocked itself and opened up for the children to pass. That was exactly what happened if a dungeon tried to put an impassable obstacle blocking the way to the core or the exit; it was against the rules.

Archimedes didn’t know who made those rules. It certainly wasn’t the gods, since gods couldn’t interfere inside a dungeon unless they were given permission by the dungeon itself. Most likely, it wasn’t that kind of rule at all. It was more like the “rule” that a human can’t put a blockage in their windpipe. If they tried, they would cough to dislodge the object. Their body was made to do that so that the human wouldn’t die. Dungeons were probably the same. No, it was totally the same. Archimedes thought back to the notification he’d gotten right after being reincarnated.

Warning! Incomplete path to dungeon core. Creature creation has been disabled. Item creation has been disabled. Ether harvesting has been disabled. Please immediately complete the path.

To Archimedes, that situation was similar to being suffocated. It was almost certain that there was some vital process that his body had to sustain which required a solid connection to the outside. Archimedes was ashamed that after thousands of years, he still didn’t know what that was. His best guess was that it had to do with mana diffusion, the process where the area near a dungeon becomes more saturated with mana than their surroundings. Was that mana a waste product of his body? If it wasn’t able to go outside, would it make him sick?

Could I die if I did that?

That was what Archimedes wanted, after all. He was only pursuing an answer for the voice of the world’s behavior because he couldn’t reliably return to that floating nothingness. If there was a way to do that, he would use it.

You mustn’t. That will be a hellish and painful limbo, not death.

A weak window fluttered into view, causing Archimedes to sigh internally.

“So you’re finally talking to me again. It’s been days since I saw anything that wasn’t a standard notification. Instead of just giving me reasons not to kill myself, can’t you give me a reason to live? Don’t you have some kind of grand revelation for me?”

Revelation…? Then this: Vow. It is the name I have chosen for myself. It is… a nickname. You may call me by it.

“Vow? As in, an acronym for 'voice of the world?' Well, it does sound more like a name than that mouthful. But you know that isn’t what I was asking, Vow. Why did you send me here? Why am I a dungeon again?”

Two windows was already pushing it, in Archimedes’ experience, but a flickering third box appeared this time.

I ‘ m t i r e d .

Archimedes willed the box away and sighed, staring at some insects buzzing around just outside his boss room. “So that was it. Even after living this long, it seems I’m still much too impatient. I apologize, Vow.”

It seemed like it took a good deal of effort for the voice of the world to talk to him outside of the standard notifications. If it only had one window to waste on him, and he was back to thinking about killing himself again, of course the window would be wasted on preventing that. The reason Vow hadn’t explained anything to him after a month was his own fault.

But it wasted one of those windows on giving itself a nickname, he grumbled, then felt like slapping himself. He remembered how terrible he had felt after being reborn and realizing that his name had been stripped from him. Having a name, a sense of identity, was important to sapient beings, so that window wasn’t a waste.

Archimedes would try to remain positive until the next time Vow could speak to him, and then he would hopefully get some proper answers to his questions.