While the boy was sitting at the edge of the cliff, enjoying the sound of magical rain falling, a group of people enters my territory.

There are five of them, two males and three females, all teenagers aged sixteen and seventeen. One of them is the teenager who passed the first floor a few days ago, “Looks like she brought her friends,” I smile when I see her new class.

The group stops before the dungeon tree and starts taking selfies, but the girl just goes down the stairwell without a second thought. She is carrying with her a plastic bag full of bottles. Each of her friends is carrying a similar bag, and they put down their phones to follow her down when they see her disappear.

They point and exclaim when they see what is waiting for them down under. Each of them takes a bottle or a can and lifts it up for a cheer. “Happy birthday Lacy!” they yell and start to sing.

The [Mage] finishes her bottle and takes another one. She is handed a cigarette which she puts into her mouth after downing her second bottle.

The group is having fun. Drinking, talking and playing music. Two of them begin to kiss and a third joins in. The [Mage] ignores the others while she takes out thick waders from one of the bags. Putting it on, she stumbles down the stairs and into the sea of mushrooms.

“Get out of there,” says the one who didn’t join the horny trio.

“Don’t worry,” she spins in place.

“I’m not,” he says, “I just think there are better things you could be doing than playing around down there.”

“Oh really now? And what could that be?” she asks, cigarette still held between her lips.

“For starters,” he steps down the stairs and reaches his hand for her to take, “You can always play around with me,” the boy says with a perverted smile.

“Hmm, doesn’t sound so tempting”, she says and moves farther into the sea, “Maybe after I smoke this joint.”

“Oh?” he holds up a lighter in his hand, “How about you get out of there and I light it up for you so we can share?”

“Nah,” she twirls in the mushroom sea, sending the glowing caps rippling like waves, “I’ve got my own fire now.”

“Do you now?” the boy moves to the edge of the platform and crouches down to stroke the girl's cheek. “Since when does daddy’s little girl risk getting caught with a lighter on her? Does she want another spanking?”

Slapping his hand away she takes a step deeper in, “Who needs a lighter when I’ve got magic!”

Her hand lifts up and her palm glows red hot, “[Ember touch], quite useful for setting things on fire,” she lights up and takes a deep puff, “I almost burnt my room down when I got it,” she says with a chuckle, “you should’ve seen my dads face when he came running with the fire extinguisher,” the chuckle turns into laughter when she sees the boys scared face.

A laugh that turns into a scream once her leg is pierced by a Lancetail. She jumps up on one leg and has her other foot pierced as well. She falls and the lizards turn her into a pincushion.

Achievement!

First sentient species killed by the dungeon

[Comprehend Languages] awarded

+100 dungeon points.

Congratulations!

You can now create Humans.

Peeing his pants the boy runs away with the others on his heels.

For a moment I think of sending my creations after them to prevent my existence from spreading but the girl's face is burnt in my mind and her scream is still echoing down the floor. I thought I was prepared but this was nothing like how the other animals died.

“Is it because I was human once?”

For the dungeon to reward me for killing the girl and even give me an achievement leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I see no value in killing those who come to me. An abrupt end to their adventure means an end to my entertainment as well. I much rather they survive and get stronger so they can tackle harder challenges. “If too many die… will others even come?”

Bringing me down even more is that if I follow my tradition I now need to summon an exact copy of the girl.

“I don’t know what scares me more, that she’ll turn out to be a mindless zombie or an actual human being…”

While my mind is busy brooding, the girl's body has been devoured and only her bones are left, so I decided to put them away for safekeeping until I know what to do with them. There’s no way I’ll be adding actual humans to my dungeon and I think that a proper grave for the girl would be nice. “And for that matter, while she’s the first to die she’ll certainly won’t be the last so a graveyard of some sort might be a grim but needed addition.” A place where people can come to visit and remember the fallen.

Distracted while thinking of how I’m gonna go about adding a graveyard, my curiosity gets the better of me and I check my skills to see how much would creating a human even cost me. Surprisingly I find the option inside the [Monster Creation] menu, for the cost of twenty thousand mana. Both an expensive and extremely cheap price to pay for the creation of a human life.

More surprising is that when I check to see how much mana I have I see it is full and I can choose to level. Meaning that the girl's death gave me quite a huge boost. “A great source of easy mana, but is it because she was human or because she was a [Mage]?”

Congratulations!

You have reached level 11.

Next level up at 50,000 mana

+25 dungeon points

Tempted by the new source of mana, the mental struggle against my own greed is interrupted by a familiar sensation. Someone has entered my territory just as the sun was beginning to set.

Jumping into one of my mice in the area I see that it's not the teenagers but the [Hunter] whos returning for another round. Watching him limp through the forest with a huge pack on his back and a determined look on his face I feel my mood getting better the closer he gets. Unlike the last time where he had to babysit the kids, his attitude is telling me he won’t be holding anything back.

“Wait… the girl called him ‘Daddy’, didn’t she?” I address the female fox who lifts her head up from a fresh hare carcass to look in the direction of my core, blood blending almost perfectly with her red fur, “So either there was some serious age gap shenanigans going on between the two or, more likely, he was her father. Which would mean he’s here for revenge?”

The female fox returns to her meal while I return my attention to the dungeon to use the few minutes I have to order my creations around for the upcoming fight. Although it still saddens me she died the way she did, it was her fault for playing around in a dungeon and I have no intention of going easy on her father due to empathy for his situation. Monsters and animals waiting and ready I’d love to do some last-minute structural changes but my mana pool is empty from the level up. Instead, I jump back into one of the flying squirrels following the man and watch him limp his way to me.

The [Hunter] rushes down the stairs and not wasting a moment jumps down into the mushroom sea. Setting a fast pace forward with some liquid spilling from the bottom of his large backpack, leaving a wet trail behind himself.

The first Lancetail moves towards him but doesn’t get too close, the telltale sign of mushroom stalks parting over it earns my creation a shotgun blast from the keen eyed adventurer. Multiple pelts rip it to shreds as the gunshot spooks critters into a frenzy of multicolored motion everywhere on the floor. I wonder how he didn't deafen himself and notice him pushing an earplug deeper into his ear canal. Pausing to check his kill he lifts it by its sharp tail and looks at the mangled body before throwing it away and continuing deeper into the floor.

A few more Lancetails are killed, not even the ones who tried to sneak up from behind him made it closer than three meters. Now, however, he reached the hanging worms where I hoped they would provide a good distraction for the Lancetails to rush in. Without even slowing down he switches shotguns and empties his weapon from afar, killing and wounding the worms with a wide spread of small shotgun pellets, clearing himself a path. The ones who aren’t dead curl up to the ceiling with a pained hiss.

Guessing the outcome in advance I tell some of my ceiling snakes to drop on his head, trying to time it with the Lancetails going for his feet, but as I expected he isn’t even surprised by the attack. Moving his body out of the way the moment the snake detached from the overgrowth on the ceiling he swivels on his good leg, shotgun aimed low with one hand while the other grabs a machete from a holster on his thigh. Perfectly timed, he unloads a shell that catches two Lancetails with its pellet spread, cuts the falling snakes in half with a move that would make ninja’s envious and just when I think the last Lancetail will get him, he finishes his maneuver with a downward movement that hurls his weapon at the ground. The machete goes through soft flesh and impales itself into the ground with a thud.

“It’s like he has a sixth sense or something,” annoyed at the nonchalant way he flicks his arm to clean the weapon from blood I decide to forgo tactics and just overrun him with sheer numbers. “While I don’t have too many adult Lancetails the number of Spearheads, snakes and salamanders on my first floor is no laughing matter.” Commanding my creatures I wait for them to assemble while the [Hunter] continues deeper into the vinefield, one shotgun spread at a time. “There’s good reason as to why adventurers form parties when delving into dungeons. No matter how strong a person is, his resources and stamina aren’t limitless.”

Proudly, I watch more and more creatures stream from the larger side caverns into the main path. Hundreds of them already encircling the enemy from all sides with hundreds more on their way. I wait for the [Hunter] to start reloading his gun before I send the signal to attack.

The whole swarm moves at the same time and I watch with great joy as the man finally loses his poker face and shows genuine surprise and hints of fear that don’t last as long as I would’ve liked. His calm demeanor returns as if it was never gone and he lets go of the shotgun in his hand, letting it fall to his side, hanging from a strap. Hands free, he reaches behind him and I hear a click as he unclips the bottom of his backpack and a large jerrycan falls to his feet and a puddle forms as the man takes out another one. Ignoring the animals falling on his head and the Spearheads climbing his feet he quickly opens the container and holding the jerrycan upside down with one hand he flicks a Zippo into the air and starts to run.

Approaching the Lancetails in a limping sprint he shoots two and jumps over the rest just as the lighter's flame falls down to the puddle around the jerrycan and an explosion follows, setting its surrounding on fire and creating a beautiful giant ripple in the mushroom sea from the blast of hot air.

Some of the Vineworms are set ablaze and with a pitched hiss they thrash around in pain, setting more of the surroundings on fire. Dozens die from the blast of fire and many more are burning, running around and spreading the quickly growing inferno.

The line the [Hunter] left behind himself, a trail of gasoline that leads back to the entrance, ignites and helps spread the fire. Temperature rising fast I’m slow to handle it because I see that the long stalk mushrooms that form the sea aren’t very flammable and while the wildfire is dangerous, my main concern right now is the man who started it and is carrying at least ten more liters of fuel with him.

Focusing my attention on the swarm I see them following him as he struggles with the Vineworms now that his shotguns are out of ammo. Surprisingly he isn’t much slower without them, swinging his machete with great speed and uncanny instinct, hitting most real Vineworms and barely any of the decoys. If he wasn’t limping my defenders would never be able to catch up to him, but since he is, the swarm is almost upon him. And apparently he knew it as well as once he exited the curtain of Vineworms he dropped his backpack, grabbed from it what turned out to be a folded spear, stood atop of the jerrycan as it emptied itself into a puddle and prepared to fight.

Machete in one hand and spear in the other his motions were a blur as he cut and impaled anything that approached him. His face and hand became riddled by bites while his torso was mutilated by small shallow cuts. While he killed anything he could, his focus was the Lancetails which he impaled one after another with his short spear.

For almost a minute the fight raged on and just as he was starting to slow down he threw his machete and jumped towards his bag. While in the air another Zippo was flicked and as it fell to the growing pull of gasoline the [Hunter] rolled on the ground and hid behind his large backpack.

This explosion was bigger than the first one. If that wasn’t bad enough than the fact that my swarm was more concentrated around it, was. Almost a hundred of my various creatures were caught in the blast, most dying immediately, while many more were burning.

Immediately I tried to extinguish it but the source of water didn’t come. “What? Why? I have more than enough mana!”

I tried again, putting all my focus into the task and this time a trickle of water appeared over the raging fire but disappeared into mist before hitting the ground.

The [Hunter] didn’t stay idle, quickly putting his backpack on and rushing away from the fire. Spear tucked under his armpit as he reloaded the shotguns while moving. Burning Spearheads were following him as fast as they could but most were slowing down as their flesh melted. Sacrificing themselves in their attempt to protect me, all they managed was to spread the fire even more.

Canceling all the water sources that filled my second-floor reservoir I again tried to extinguish the fire, succeeding this time. Only to realize that it wouldn’t be enough.

I could barely focus enough to summon even one source of water, hardly enough to douse one fire let alone two. So much mana was being released from all the death that it filled my mana pool and kept on going, and by now the first fire became so big it reached the walls of the cavern and cut off the entire corridor.

It was the walls that really turned the fire into an uncontrollable inferno. The shelf mushrooms I liked so much turned out to be easily flammable, with the polyporus caps catching fire and quickly engulfing everything with it.

Seeing that the fire was starting to spread to the side caverns I slowly managed to close off the passageways, cutting off any easy escape routes my creatures had. Adding to my sorrows was the smoke that was starting to fill the cavern and leaving through the only exit it had. Rushing through the spiral staircase and leaving through the entrance of my dungeon tree. Something I wouldn’t think twice about if not for the fear and panic the tree was sending to me through our shared connection.

As I never even thought it was alive, or at least smarter than a regular tree I panic feeling one of its unripe fruits wither and drop. Hurrying to save the other fruits I open another exit directly over the fire and in my desperation I make the opening too big and lose consciousness as the smoke bellows out together with all the ambient mana that was concentrated into the first floor.

Greeting his teeth Liam tried to shift more of his weight to his left foot as he used his folding fishing spear as an impromento crutch.

The combat boots underneath the rubber waders did an amazing job at keeping his heel stabilized but they couldn’t do anything against the growing pain and swelling. Pain wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Pain would keep him focused. Pain he could ignore and push through. As long as he could move, pain was meaningless.

Mind empty and jaw clenched he considered stopping and treating his cuts but a quick look at the raging fire behind him was enough to change his mind. Resting can wait. The wounds wouldn’t kill him.

One step at a time.

Step with the left foot and use it to jump forward slightly, keeping weight off the sprained right ankle. Speed is important but rushing is forbidden.

Another glance back. Nothing pursuing him. Why? Where did they go?

Keep moving. If anything comes [Hunter's Instinct] will announce it.

Get rid of the bag? No, still needed.

There’s the edge. Is that rain? No, drops from the ceiling to make it look like rain. Is it dangerous? Doesn’t matter, no other way forward.

Hammering three anchor points into the ground Liam connects a long rope to it and pulls a couple of times to see if they’ll hold. Next he takes another rope and attaches it to his backpack, using it to lower it down a few meters before letting it fall on to one of the large mushroom shelves.

Now it’s the hard part. It’s been years since he did any wall climbing and he’s hoping it’s like riding a bicycle. Standing at the edge he runs through the actions in his head while staring at the drop. He’ll need to take it slow and compensate for his right side.

Trusting his weight to the rope he slowly leans back until he’s almost perpendicular to the cliffs wall. Resting his injured foot on one of the mushroom shelves makes it crumble, unable or not wanting to hold him.

A small nod of approval at the consistency of the dungeon, he begins to rappel down the cliff using small jumps, compensating for the pain by redirecting most of the force from each impact to his left side. The descent is slowed down even more by his need to crumble any mushroom platforms underneath him and move his backpack down every time he reaches it.

By the time he’s reached the small cave in the midpoint where he can rest a little, his clothes are drenched from the falling droplets. Which is weird considering any drop that hits his bare skin dries up almost immediately. Even weirder is that his cuts have stopped itching and barely bleed anymore.

He wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t decide to spend his short rest treating and bandaging himself up, but now that he did he puts the bandages aside and decides to test things further. Grabbing a cap from his water bottle he holds it out of the cave until it fills up and pours the glittering liquid on one of his wounds, a large gash the length of his finger from one of the lizards with knives for a head. The result isn’t very noticeable but he’s pretty sure that the wound got a bit smaller than it was.

Rummaging through his backpack he takes a small plastic bag that held some dried jerky and sets it up outside to gather raindrops. Giving it a few minutes to fill up he uses the time to rest, refill his weapons and check inventory. Done, he uses a pen to mark the edges of a cut and pours the liquid on the wound, slowly and carefully, and sure enough, it works. The cut is smaller and when shining a flashlight on it the redness around it is also decreased.

With eyes narrowed and mind rushing with possibilities there’s one more thing he needs to check before the rest stop is over. The plastic bag is set up again and the combat boot is taken off to reveal a swollen and bruised ankle. Sliding his legs away from the edge he lets the drops fall on a pained and pulsing appendage.

Relief isn’t instantaneous, it comes slowly, barely noticeable but clearly visible. In the ten minutes it took him to bandage and disinfect the worst of his cuts and bites the pulsing in his leg seized, the swelling diminished almost completely and the bluish bruising turned yellow. If not for the pain that still shot through his leg everytime the ankle moved he would think it was healed.

Maybe a few more minutes would get rid of the pain as well but the rain was slowly getting weaker and its glittering colors more muted, so the combat boot went back on and it's laces tied securely. The water that accumulated in the bag was poured on the sock giving him an uncomfortable sloshing feeling in his toes but hopefully, the healing properties would delay the ankle from swelling again. As there were a few drops left on the bag he pressed it to his nape and it eased the tingling sensation left from the heat blast.

Attaching himself back to the rope he continued to descend with more ease than when he started, the recovered ankle allowing him to be less careful with his jumps.

Stepping on to the sparkling mushroom at the bottom he secured his backpack and weapons, ready for the next part of the damn dungeon that took his daughter from him. This mushroom that twisted his ankle was a reminder of why he was here, and with the memory surfaced his guilt as well, making him blame himself for bringing her to this forsaken place.

A place he’ll do anything to destroy. Even if it costs him his life.