Devi was too tired to feel angry anymore. She had fought for the Dungeon and came horn-span-near to death. Now that the rush of battle was gone, she felt drained. She didn’t have the energy to fight the dozen or so men as they escorted her to the headquarters of House Quinn. She had dropped Silverfang in the mushroom pit, so it would have been difficult to fight them anyway.

At first, she had thought that House Quinn came to hunt the Dungeon Core too. She had been mistaken. Tengi’quinn didn’t want to tangle with the local gangs; he had come in full force just to rescue her. The Lord of House Quinn brought two Players with him, as well as a squad of armed men who were born and raised in this world. Some of those men had traditional infantry equipment, others held control runes for the goleton beasts they brought.

Tengi’quinn was wise to Devi’s portals by now, so he warned everyone not to leave any of her puppets behind. He also cast his compulsion Ability on her, forcing her to reveal her Ability list to make sure she didn’t have any other tricks. He didn’t want to let her escape his protection again.

Had he been more clever, he would have realized that one-tenth of her mana was still reserved. She had a puppet tucked away in some dark corner of the Dungeon, ready to open a portal anytime. She just had to bide her time and wait until she was left alone—and so, she endured. She took comfort in knowing that escape was within reach.

“We’re almost there, little flower,” Tengi’quinn said from beside her. Devi pushed his hand off her shoulder, saying nothing. They were indeed almost there. The fortified mansion ahead of them looked rather imposing, but she definitely wasn’t glad to see it. At least the ring of soldiers around her eased up once they were on House Quinn’s property. They spread out in the lush garden to stand watch. Curious. Were they always so much on guard, or did they expect Randel to besiege their castle and attempt to rescue her?

The Sylven Players escorted Devi to the mansion and she was immediately struck by a sense of bitter-sweet home-sickness. She hadn’t really missed any of this, but there was something about Sylven homes that struck her as nostalgic. The architecture, perhaps? Humans put doors everywhere; they rarely had the inviting entryways that this place had. On the other hand, Human homes had big windows to allow natural sunlight in. Such windows were almost nonexistent in Ylvasil, where sunlight was scarce and environmental hazards tested the buildings often.

The Quinn mansion was also better decorated than most Human homes, though it was probably because of the Players’ wealth. She had yet to visit a Human mansion to draw comparison-lines about the decor. Many of the furniture were clearly Human-made, but as they walked room-to-room Devi saw many Sylven motifs too. A hand-woven tapestry depicted the sigils of the Great Houses. A wide painting showed a fierce battle somewhere on the rust-red fields of Ylvasil. Multiple sets of children’s clothes stood on displays, the clothing increasingly larger in size as someone’s son gradually outgrew them. They were a sure sign that women lived here too.

Tengi’quinn had been talking to her during the entire house-tour, but Devi paid him no mind. She probably should have – if for nothing else, to learn more about her enemy – but she felt she would lose her temper if she had listened to any more of Tengi’quinn’s boastful-prattling. Once she had spent a culturally-appropriate amount of time with the Lord of the House, she excused herself as being tired and was consequently led to what she called the breeding pen.

The women’s quarters were the fluffiest set of rooms in the entire mansion, and this time Devi definitely didn’t appreciate the resemblance to her birth-home. Just the mere sight of the place made her want to crawl away and escape, and she actually considered opening a portal right then and there. Perhaps she could jump through and close it before anyone had a chance to follow? Tengi’quinn said his goodbyes and left her as soon as they arrived, but another Player and a pair of guardsmen still lingered near the entrance. Unwilling to look like a frightened child, Devi moved deeper into the women’s domain.

The first room had a rounded table with bowls of various fruits. There were cushioned chairs with high backrests around the table, but the room also had other options of furniture to sit, lie, and relax on. Devi’s feet sank into the soft carpet that covered the floor, and she had to remind herself not to take off her boots. Trampling all over the clean carpet felt wrong, but she wouldn’t stay here for long and she definitely wouldn’t undress in any manner.

She wasn’t alone yet. The Player was still watching her from the entryway and a servant boy stood in the corner, ready to come to her aid if she required anything. He had a tray with sets of cutlery next to him—knives too, to slice her food up if needed. Devi eyed the boy; he had to be a couple of years shy of adulthood, yet the rigorous physical training already showed on him. Even so, Devi believed that in a fight she would be able to overpower him and take the knife. Not that she would need to. Analyzing the servants was an old habit of hers, and she had returned to it without meaning to. The boy fidgeted under her gaze, which she found odd; the servants in her memories were much more professional. But it was also true that her father had a larger pool of servants to choose from—and he had always chosen the best for her.

The servant boy visibly sagged when Devi stopped staring at him and moved on. The next room was equally as fluffy and nauseating as the first, but it had several creative tools for the women to practice their hobbies with. More importantly though, this room also had women sitting in it. Two of them.

Directly across the room sat an older woman who was past her fertility, if the wrinkles on her hands and the paleness of her eyes were of any indication. Judging by the shortened ends of her horns, she had outlived three or four husbands already. She was sitting in an armchair, knitting with the other woman who had her back to Devi. They were doing one of those useless shawl-like things, working on both ends at the same, eager and consumed by their work as if completing it would matter to the world in any meaningful way.

“Oh,” the older woman straightened in her chair when she saw Devi. “Oh! Greetings in our House, dear.”

“Thank you for your mercy,” Devi spoke the traditional reply of someone who entered another’s House—implying that she was only visiting.

“W-What?” the other woman asked. She almost fell out of her couch as she twisted around to look at Devi. She was young, probably younger than Devi, without any collar on her neck. Only the very tips of her horns were cut off, which meant that her first husband was still alive. She was plump, dressed loosely, and her stomach was rounded in pregnancy.

“By the Creator, welcome! Welcome!” the young woman gushed. “Are you going to be our new sister?”

“No, I’m just visiting.”

“Is that so?” the older woman asked. Her tone was rather dry, but she seemed to be intrigued. “My name is Leena’quinn, and this young lady is Aeri’quinn. What’s your name, dear?”

“Devi.”

“Devi’quinn, how wonderful!” Aeri’quinn cheered.

“No, just Devi.”

“Nonsense,” Leena’quinn said. “You are part of our family now.”

“Yes!” Aeri’quinn added. “Devi’quinn, come, come! You seem tired. And look how thin you are! You should eat more.”

“Aeri’quinn,” the older woman chided, “you shouldn’t say things like that, it’s not appropriate. You’ve never been out there, but I’ve told you many times that Nerilia is just as wild and dangerous as Ylvasil. No wonder that she looks so thin if she was out there without her House! It’s a miracle that she survived at all.”

“Oh!” Aeri’quinn’s face fell. “Forgive me, Devi’quinn, for assuming things. I didn’t intend to start our friendship with a misstep, I just—oh, you look so young! And I like your hair, how did you braid it so tightly?”

Devi pursed her lips as she considered her next words. These women were annoying as expected, but she hadn’t thought they would be so welcoming at the same time. Were they genuine? It felt so. These two women were very much unlike the ladies of the Royal Court … but then, this was a different world for her in more than one sense.

“My husband-to-be braids my hair every other day,” Devi replied to Aeri’quinn’s question. There was no Sylven equivalent for boyfriend, and so she hoped that this kind of answer would raise the fewest questions.

“Oh! You already have one? And he tends to your hair? Why would he do that—is it because he doesn’t have any servants? He could have hired human servants too, you know. House Quinn does that too sometimes when we hold large events—but never mind that! When are you getting married?”

Ugh. Instead of replying, Devi glanced behind herself and noted that the Player had followed her into this room. He was leaning against the wall now, keeping an eye on her—which made sense, considering that she was a new element here. Devi frowned, torn between staying here to learn more and hurrying back to find out what had happened to Randel. She had to trust that he could handle the rest of the intruders.

“Listen, I really-only came here to visit,” Devi said. “Before I go, can I ask whether you’re happy here?”

“Hmm? Happy about what, dear?”

“About your life here. Are you content, or is it perhaps that you’d rather live elsewhere?”

Aeri’quinn and Leena’quinn exchanged a silent glance, confused at the strange question.

“I don’t think we have any other options,” Aeri’quinn said. “There aren’t many Sylven communities in this world, and definitely none nearby! But life here is good. Peaceful. My husband takes care of me well, and I intend to give him many children.”

“What about you?” Devi turned to Leena’quinn. “You’re a Player.”

“Yes,” the older woman said, inclining her head. “The collar is a nuisance I’ve learned to live with. I’m glad that Aeri’quinn is free of this burden. That said, I have everything I need here. Every once in a while the men take me out to help me complete simple Quests. It’s stressful, but … manageable. I’m sure that in time you’ll get used to it too, dear.”

“Leena’quinn suffered a lot,” Aeri’quinn said. “She is cursed multiple times over, yet she—”

“That is quite enough, Aeri’quinn,” Leena’quinn cut her off. “No need to scare Devi’quinn further.”

“No, I’m interested,” Devi said. “What are these curses?”

Leena’quinn sighed. “They are Disabilities for not completing Quests often enough. I cannot drink water unless it has sugar in it, the wind on my skin feels like fire, and I’m paralyzed from the waist down.”

Devi stared at her in disbelief.

“How are you supposed to complete Quests if you cannot walk?”

“With help, of course,” Leena’quinn said. “My husband supports me still, even though I can no longer bear any children of his. But you shouldn’t worry about such things, dear! We won’t let any Disability befall you. You’re young, and by the looks of it, healthy—even if you look malnourished.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my diet,” Devi said. Once more she glanced at the Player behind her, but he hadn’t moved yet. “I need to use the lavatory. Could you tell me where it is?”

“It’s just through there, on the left,” Aeri’quinn said, pointing toward the other side of the room. “Oh! Shall I lend you some of my clothes? You should change out of that horrible armor as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” Devi said. “In case we don’t see each other again, I wish you happiness with your life here.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Aeri’quinn said, giggling. “It’s just the lavatory, you won’t drown!”

Devi walked around Leena’quinn’s seat, squeezing by the wheelchair behind it. She didn’t look back. As much as she hated the idea, it was most likely in these women’s best interest that they remained here. She wouldn’t be able to help them if they didn’t want to be helped. Devi walked out of the room and turned to the left, reaching the—

“My Lady.”

Devi froze for a moment. A moment only, then she whirled around, her hand reflexively trying to grab Silverfang on her belt only to come up empty. The Player who had been watching her had one knee on the floor, his head bowed.

“Lady Devi’lynn, I’m at your service.”

His voice was raspy and somewhat familiar, yet Devi couldn’t quite place it anywhere. There were so many wrong things with this situation that Devi didn’t know how to react. The two of them were alone on the gloomy passageway, but if she raised her voice it would carry to the room where the two women sat. Devi backed away a little bit, her back pressed against the door of the lavatory.

“Do I know you?”

The Player got back to his feet, tall and imposing. His light-amber eyes narrowed ever so slightly when Devi broke yet another cultural taboo by looking into them. The man had a pale scar across his jaw and left cheek, and a few other scars running down his neck, half-hidden by his collar and armor.

“My name is Haro’quinn,” he said. “You may remember me as Haro’lynn, one of your father’s esteemed counselors. But that was … a long time ago. Since then I’ve grown older, wiser, and more bitter. You look just the same as I remember, however.”

“I see,” Devi said. “Sorry, I have no idea who you are. And I have no need of your service.”

“I always hated you, you know.”

Devi froze again. What was this man trying to do? Was this about revenge? But then why had he knelt before her? Perhaps he just wanted to see her reaction. Perhaps he just wanted to see her squirm before he had his way with her. Devi steeled herself, ready to open a portal if he came any closer to her.

“You look so confused,” the man said, his lips twisting in an amused smile. “I’m just telling the truth that I always wanted to tell. You’ve been a political nuisance. Your father’s little girl, his only weakness. I had to mind what I said about you, lest I risked his wrath. But! But. No matter how much I dislike your person, I am loyal to House Lynn. It comes foremost in my heart. Ask, and I shall aid you.”

Creator above! Now that was truly unexpected—but only if Devi could believe what she heard. The man’s words implied that he was ready to betray House Quinn if Devi asked him to. Would he really do it or was this just a trick? Ultimately, it didn’t matter.

“I don’t need your help,” Devi said. “You’re wrong about my name too. I’m no longer part of House Lynn. I’ve exiled myself.”

“That’s adorable, Lady Devi’lynn, but it doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes plenty of sense for me, Hana’quinn.”

“Haro’quinn,” he corrected her mildly. “I see that you’re as willful as ever, Lady Devi’lynn.”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are. Headstrong, stubborn, undisciplined, foolish. You are all of these things, but it’s fine by me. Go, then. Escape. I’ve said my part.”

“Escape? Are you just … letting me go?”

“I don’t think we can hold you back by force. Even if you couldn’t open portals anytime, you would find a way to sneak off. You always did. I truly believe that you’re making a mistake by leaving this place, but I also believe that you’ll come crawling back. House Quinn is but a pale shadow of what House Lynn was, but it’s the best this world has to offer. You’ll find no home elsewhere, Lady Devi’lynn.”

“You’re wrong,” Devi said, clenching her fists. “Oh, you’re so wrong. Find a home elsewhere? Please. I’ll make my own home. Do you think that I’m helpless without you men? Do you think that I couldn’t live without you? Well, just wait until you meet my House!”

Haro’quinn burst into laughter. Devi barely held herself back from punching him. She heard worry-sounds from the women’s room—her shouting must have attracted some attention. Time to go. With a well-practiced mental command, she opened a portal between herself and Haro’quinn.

Devi stepped through the portal into a dark chamber, kicking her puppet angrily as she arrived. It puffed into smoke without much resistance. Devi willed her portal to close, but the Abyss-damned thing needed a couple of heartbeats to shrink down and disappear. It gave Haro’quinn enough time to throw one last barb at her.

“See you soon, Lady Devi’lynn.”

Devi was moving on as soon as her portal closed, navigating by her collar’s light. The chamber had a portal disk in its other end, and so Devi grabbed a piece of chalk and began to draw. She considered going back to the sparring rooms to retrieve Silverfang but decided it was too risky. Instead, she created a passageway to the control room and stepped through.

It was bright on the other side. Too bright. The first thing she saw was a woman in black clothes, which made Devi create a puppet by reflex. She saw Imaya right after, clad in armor but without physical-harm.

“Devi!” Imaya said with a relieved smile. “I’m so glad you’re okay! This is Jessie. She’s with us.”

“You allowed an outsider here?”

“She … uh, she earned my trust.”

“She also doesn’t like to be ignored,” Jessie said. “Nice to meet you, Devi. I’ve heard about you already, and I’m here to help.”

Devi eyed the collar around Jessie’s neck, her staff, her odd clothing. Perhaps coming here without Silverfang was a mistake. Could she trust this woman? Could she trust Imaya’s judgment? She had to—but not blindly.

“Nice to meet you,” she said, schooling her expression into polite-neutrality.

As Devi’s eyes adjusted to the light, she realized what its source was; morning had arrived and the walls around the control room reflected the bright blue skies outside. The fires around Randel’s building had been put out and the structure was still standing—the projection on the walls was still reflecting its rooftop. In the middle of the rooftop, the moving map of the Dungeon shone with glowing dots all over it.

“Where is Randel?” Devi asked.

“I knew that would be your first question,” Imaya said, her smile fading.

“Is he dead?”

“What? Oh, no. No, he’s alive but … changed. We met him and he wasn’t like himself. I think—I think his dagger is affecting him.”

Devi nodded. Good. Of course he wasn’t dead. Why was that her first thought?

“Where is he now?”

“He, um, took the control crystal from me,” Imaya said. “Before he left he said something about finally having enough Dungeon Points. He didn’t explain himself, but … well, I have an idea about what he is doing.”

Imaya pointed at the map of the Dungeon—more specifically, at a thin line that had a single glowing dot at the end of it.

“I don’t understand,” Devi said, but then saw it: the thin line was growing length-wise.

“He created a permanent portal into the upper ring of Fortram,” Jessie said. “Imaya told me that the Dungeon could create these portals to circumvent the rotating city segments.”

“Yes,” Devi said. That was how the monsters got through the outer wall when the shade attacked the city, and that was how Randel made a passageway to the middle ring after he deployed the new Dungeon. Tunneling to the middle ring made sense because that section of the city had many interest-points too. But why would he expand to the upper ring where only the rich lived? Perhaps Randel was heading toward House Quinn because Devi had been dragged there. She discarded that idea quickly. Randel trusted her to take care of herself and he wouldn’t waste Dungeon Points on a rescue mission.

“He is digging straight toward the World Seed,” Imaya said.

The three rings of Fortram rotated in opposite directions, which made the map fractured and difficult to interpret. But now that Devi knew what to look for, she realized that the straight line was indeed angled up to the top, stretching toward the axis.

“Why?” Devi asked.

“I think he will try to connect the Dungeon to it.”

“Is that possible? What will happen?”

“I don’t know,” Imaya said. “We’ll see soon enough.”

Devi looked at the two Human women. Both were watching with anticipation, but while Jessie seemed to be curious and rather laid back, Imaya was pacing worriedly. Devi wasn’t comfortable with this turn of events either. She suspected that connecting the Dungeon to the World Seed wasn’t Randel’s own idea. The shades were finally making a play, and Devi was afraid it would end up badly—for both Randel and the Refuge.

Those parasites scared Devi like nothing else. She had no idea how to help Randel overcome their influence, and she had no idea what to do if they decided to take control and never release him. Randel, and by extension Devi too, were at their mercy. Devi tried to put on a strong face in front of Randel, but at times like this worry gnawed at her resolve. Things weren’t alright. They were getting worse. Devi had just been pretending.

The line on the map stopped expanding when it reached Fortram’s axis. The three women waited. Apart from Randel’s dot blinking out suddenly, nothing seemed to happen. Randel had entered the extra-dimensional space of the World Seed.

“Well, that was disappointing,” Jessie said. “I thought the Dungeon would change.”

“It will,” Imaya said. “The World Seed emits mana. The Dungeon uses mana. If the two are connected … perhaps now we’ll have infinite mana to build with.”

“Eh, you already had lots of mana. You said that it’s Dungeon Points you need.”

“Well, yeah … but now we can forget about mana altogether. Plus we can now enter the World Seed through our own secret tunnel. That’s something too, right?”

Devi narrowed her eyes, thinking. If connecting to the World Seed meant free mana, why hadn’t the shades insisted on doing this sooner? Why had they allowed Randel to deploy the Dungeon in the lower ring of Fortram? It couldn’t have been a coincidence. They needed something first, something that they gained only recently. Dungeon Points, reputation, notoriety. Power.

“So, what now?” Jessie asked. “Are we just going to stand here and—”

She fell silent as the entire control room trembled. The projections flickered, the stone walls began to shake, and the tremor beneath Devi’s feet intensified.

“Earthquake!” Imaya shouted, looking up at the ceiling in panic. Devi opened a pair of portals at her sides and crouched down so that their upper-edges were above her head. She couldn’t turn them sideways to shield her from falling stones, so this was the best she could do. Jessie had planted a wooden staff into the ground and was shouting for Imaya to come closer. Devi couldn’t see what the staff did, but she guessed that it granted them some form of protection.

The tremors continued on, but the control room didn’t collapse. The Dungeon’s map seemed to be broken, however. The projection kept flickering as lines sprouted in every direction, filling the air, expanding upward and out like a vast, beautiful tree. It almost hurt to look at, there were so many details, and the lines were becoming too bright against her eyes as the light from the outside dimmed. The light from the outside…?

“The walls!” Imaya exclaimed. “Look at the walls!”

The scenery projected onto the walls of the control room was changing. Darkening. Although the viewpoint was still on the top of Randel’s building, there was now a ring of enormous dirt wall rising up just outside Fortram, higher than the city walls, blocking out the morning sun.

“Oh no,” Imaya said with wide eyes.

“He’s raising another big wall,” Jessie remarked drily. “As if Fortram didn’t already have enough of them.”

But Devi knew that it wasn’t that simple. For Randel to raise a wall outside of Fortram, the Dungeon would need to be extended over the entire—oh, Creator. Devi stepped back, taking another look at the jumbled-mess that the Dungeon’s map had become. The excessive number of lines and shapes representing roads and buildings. The thousands upon thousands of bright dots representing people. The map was not broken—it had merely expanded.

“He turned the entire city into a Dungeon,” Devi said. “That’s how he can raise those walls.”

“No, he’s not raising any walls,” Imaya said. “Oh god, this is bad. Very bad. We’ll get into so much trouble for this, I can feel it.”

Devi frowned, looking back at the walls outside. The shadows over the city deepened as the construct kept growing, its surface becoming increasingly stone-like. Impossibly high, bending over the city like a cocoon.

“What the—” Jessie mumbled. “The walls are closing over the city.”

Indeed they were, in a rapid-smooth manner—until they stopped. They didn’t seal them in entirely; a patch of sky remained over Fortram’s upper ring. The tremors beneath Devi abated soon after, and that was when she finally understood. Why had she felt the earthquakes down here? There had to be a reason. The city had become a Dungeon, and Dungeons lay underground. Imaya was right; Randel hadn’t raised any walls.

He had sunk the entire city instead.