Chương 5: You Break It, You Buy It

I vomited behind a tree, far away from the commotion of the celebratory feast. The musician's dead eyes never left me. My stomach groaned, layers of guilt forming in my gut. Despite the hunger pangs, I don't think I could have forced myself to take another bite. The goblins were distracted now, at least. If there was a chance to get away, this would be it. But where would I go? The musician said the nearest settlement was days away, but I could only guess at the direction.

Daylight had entirely faded, leaving me stumbling through the dark woods, only the faint glow of moonlight above offering me any comfort. If I could find my way back to the road, I would pick a direction and stick to it. A wolf howled somewhere up ahead, sending a chill down my spine. I reached for the blade at my side, holding it in an unsteady grip. Power coursed through the blade, and the etched sigils running down the center glowed a deep red, illuminating my surroundings like a torch.

Energy coursed through the blade, and it seemed to tell me that if I picked a direction and swung, it would handle the rest. My hand shook regardless.

"Who's there?" Bushes rustled behind me, followed by soft footsteps running off back into the dark woods. I set my jaw. After all of this, would I just run? Leave it all behind? No matter what I did, I was stuck being a Necromancer. I was brought to this world to reclaim the dungeon. What would happen if I denied that calling? Would the dungeon forever rot beneath the earth? Or perhaps, would someone much worse than me stumble across it one day?

I needed to think, and there was only one place in this world that I was familiar with. Another distant howl pushed me forward, and I left the sounds of the festivities far behind. I kept to the hills, following the light of the moon. I don't know how long I walked, but a faint urging told me I was headed in the right direction. The yawning cave appeared like a black portal in the night, a faint breeze blowing my hair into my face.

"No sense in putting it off," I said, and stepped inside. The cave embraced me like a distant relative. Cool air washed over my skin, and a dozen ratty eyes stared up at me, glowing red. They skittered away as I moved forward, their tiny paws echoing down the rough stone floor. I took a deep breath to keep my cool, and made my way down through the winding cave system. I bumbled into a few dead ends and got lost in a few winding turns. The deeper I went, the more the cave breathed. In… out… in…

I followed the source of the shifting wind until I found the tunnel that Stick led us through. I stepped inside, trying to remember the knocking pattern. Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap. Taptap. A heavy stone rolled shut behind me, locking me in. I would be safe here until morning. My throne awaited me. The skulls of my past reincarnations stared back at me, still stuck on spikes.

"Hello, past me. Me's, I guess." Their empty eye sockets remained unmoving. Part of me wanted to destroy them. Shatter the skulls and be done with it. This was all one big mess. A nightmare that refused to release me from its wicked grasp. The continuous push and pull of air rustled the red and black flags hanging from the ceiling, and I sighed, collapsing onto the throne. Could I do it? Claim the dungeon for myself? Perhaps try to make something good out of this curse that had been thrust upon me?

The soft breeze blew up my pantleg. I blinked. A small gap appeared between the throne and the stone floor, as if the ground were crumbling away. I prodded it with the tip of the sword, sending more chunks of stone clattering down below. I stilled. My safe haven was falling apart. Had things changed so much in these last few hours? I hopped off the throne, heaving it a few inches to the side to reveal an even wider hole, releasing even more wind into the room.

Pale green light glimmered upward, illuminating a set of stairs leading deeper below. The hole was barely wide enough for me to crawl through.

"Not much of a seal," I said. I bit my tongue. Was I about to do this? I kicked, sending more rubble downward until I could descend beneath the earth. Dread. Unease. Uncertainty. The last time I had been down here, the dungeon core had engulfed me in flames. I hoped it didn't hold a grudge. As I descended, any trace of the cave above disappeared. Heavy gray brick lined these walls, stained with layers of dust and cobwebs. The torches that lined the walls were dead now—snuffed out by time and neglect.

I lost track of the steps downward—lost track of time entirely. The green light grew brighter, coming ever closer with each step. I held my breath as I reached the bottom and entered the ancient temple. The ancient pillars rose by the dozen all around me, carved straight from the stone itself. At the very center of the room, a stone dais rose upward. Floating above it, with no chain or rope, the massive crystal spun, rising a mere foot off the ground.

The green light radiated from the crystal's center, bright enough to overpower the red glow of my blade. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Between each pillar, statues depicted various monsters posed in positions of power. A goblin, spear held high. A burly ogre, large club settled between massive hands. A werewolf, howling at some unseen moon. A man with his arms crossed, grin widening to reveal two long vampiric fangs.

Wind spiraled around the chamber, and each step towards the crystal brought a new pulse of energy. A steady hum emanated from the crystal, becoming almost a roar as I stood next to it. I placed my hand on the crystal. [Dungeon Core of the Carrion King] [Attune?] The reason I was reincarnated here. The wound from where I had punched it had faded—not a scratch nor dent now marred the smooth surface. If I attuned to this gem, what would it mean for me? Would I remain myself?

Or would I be lost to the ancient power within? This was a way out. It was this, or I could turn away—run back up those stairs and never come back. I could. But the crystal resonated, pulsed with each of my heartbeats—and I accepted the attunement. [Welcome, Dungeon Keeper] [Attuned: Dungeon of the Carrion King] [Level 100 Dungeon] [Dungeon Essence: 100/100] The light inside the crystal sparked to a new, heightened intensity. Not a sickly green, but a bright neon star.

My consciousness split into a thousand different shards. A heavy pressure built up in my head, but instead of a headache, a new presence settled in. I no longer saw the crystal in front of me, or the dungeon around me, but instead felt it. Knew it, as if it were an extension of my body. The cave entrance. The throne room. The dead-end hallways. The room I stood in. Every crack and crevice, I felt like I'd sprouted a dozen extra fingers, a million different arteries.

My cognition delved deeper and deeper beneath the earth. The dungeon below was no mere dungeon—it was a world. A reality beyond this one. And in that reality, the darkest temptations of humanity. Anger. Death. War. Death. Hate. Death. So much death. I smiled. Rivers of blood. Legions of the dead. Kingdoms ablaze. I pushed back against the images.

"No!" I screamed. The images grew brighter. They dug through me like a knife, slowly excising any part of my mind that showed disgust or disapproval.

"I will not be this! I refuse!" [YOU HAVE BOUND YOURSELF TO ME. YOU WILL BOW. YOU WILL BREAK. YOU WILL BECOME.] I grasped for my new sense of self, taking hold of my expanded consciousness. If each room of this place were a hand, each floor a muscle— I flexed my cognition, pushing against the entity in my mind. The room shook and the dungeon moaned, fighting against my influence. But my cognition grew greater still.

"I will not!" [WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU CANNOT RESIST ME.] I squeezed, and my thoughts send me deeper below the crust of the earth. The veins of the dungeon spread further than I ever could have imagined. Catacombs, churches, sewers, kingdoms, fields of darkness… How could one place be so… much? [RELEASE YOUR GRIP AND BEND. SAVE YOURSELF THE EFFORT, FOR IT IS INCONSEQUENTIAL.] And I did. The pressure lightened as I stopped squeezing. Maybe this was what I was meant to do. To submit to those higher than me.

To be a thumb below yet another machine. Valencorp. Evil Dungeon. What was the difference? [YES. SUBMIT.] I took a deep breath, ready to let everything go. One by one the threads of my being unwound. Easy. Simple. Everything left me until I was holding only a single thread. The last part of my will—the part that begged me to be different—the part that marched through that construction zone. I don't know what channeled through me. Pent-up rage and guilt? Regret for past choices?

My life before all this had been wasted. To have slaved away for years at a thankless corporate job—to have lost my hobbies, my friends, my home —all to be tossed out without a second thought? I couldn't give up, not again. [MORE RESISTANCE?] Something like anger flooded through me. Rage. I'd never been an angry person, but I'd never had a reason to be, either. With what cognition I had left, I pulled. The rooms shifted. The dungeon barked out in pain—no—we both barked out in pain. [WHAT ARE YOU DOING?] The dungeon screamed.

"I claim this dungeon!" I shouted back. [YOU MESS WITH THINGS YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND—] The black tower of Valencorp appeared in my mind's eye. The image of me, carrying my stupid milk crate, accepting that I was a piece of trash to be tossed into the wind. I would not live this way here. I clenched my fist, and my vision grew hot—red and white all at once. The dungeon's screams became a faint whimper, pleading and desperately clawing to steal back its control. I would not be broken. I would be a hammer.

Something erupted around me, and everything went black.

"Where did he go?" Stick asked as he paced around the outskirts of the town, a full moon hanging high above the night sky. Hollow shook her head.

"There was something in his eyes. I'm not sure he is quite the man you expected him to be, Father." The celebration feast continued—cheers, and uproarious singing filled the forest around them. It was everything Stick had dreamed it would be. All that was missing was the man himself.

"Do you think we offended him?" Stick asked.

"You work yourself up too much. If he is truly the man of legend, he will have a plan. The most we can do is wait for him to return."

"Yes, but his mind is still numb. Until he is guided to the dungeon and reconnected with his core, he will not fully become himself. If he has gone out into the world wearing nothing but ragged clothing, a stray arrow could have taken him out. You said Grelgo's men have been seen scouting again? Our feast will bring more eyes…" Hollow headed back into town, one hand resting on the hilt of her dagger.

"Whatever happens now, happens. If the Carrion King can be taken out by a stray arrow, that is not your fault. Now come on, let's get more to eat. If he has not returned by morning, we can send out a search party."

"Okay. You're right. It's just been so long. This return has been anticipated for generations and—" The ground rumbled, knocking Stick off his feet and sending him into the dirt. The music in town fell silent, worried cries and shouts taking its place. His old, brittle bones roared in complaint as he used his staff to prop himself up. Even Hollow leaned against a tree to keep herself steady.

"What is going on?" she cried. The earth shifted, and a loud crack split the air. More screams. Hollow rushed over to Stick, helping him forward and into town. A building collapsed. Fire spread. Were they under attack? Did Grelgo have mages now, capable of shifting the earth? Of sending fireballs raining down upon them?

"What is that?" Hollow said. A tremendous weight filled the air, an ever-growing black shadow blocking out the stars and moon. Clan members fled from the enormous pillar of black, running past Hollow and Stick, eyes wide.

"We're all going to die!" Hollow grabbed one by the shoulder.

"What is happening?"

"The…the tower! It came from nowhere! Are we being punished? Have we offended the Carrion King?" Hollow relinquished her grip on the man. Stick stared up at the growing tower, eyes wide, jaw slack. Black, twisted metal rose ever upward, lifting the tower's peak to impossible heights. The chapel collapsed. A home became a fireball. The statue in the town's center crumbled to dust.

"By the Gods," Stick said.

"Did he…unearth the dungeon?" Two iron doors lifted up from the ground at the base of the tower. Two statues stood on either side, depicting black-armored men holding up torches. The torches ignited into bright blue flames.

"Is that even possible?" Stick nodded.

"The Carrion King is sending a message to the world, it seems. He has returned. And he wants all to know."