Chương 53: Dungeons for Dummies

Dungeons. They are an interesting concept, especially for those who seek to get strong fast, like me. Their primary function is to contain and reduce the buildup of malice. They do this by very simply offering a place where people can slay a shitton of monsters in relative safety, while also gaining some treasures and whatnot as well. By relative safety, I mean just that. Upon entering a dungeon, you enter what is known as instanced space.

It is similar to that bakery I was in, where multiple people can experience the same thing at once without running into each other. Which makes sense, as the technology was adapted from the dungeons themselves. The dungeons do work a bit differently though. To put it simply, while inside, the entire rest of the world is cut off. Only yourself and those who entered alongside you are in whatever instance of the dungeon you are given. The only way to get out is either to 'die' or to complete a floor of the dungeon.

Of course, death in this context is not technically real. Any deaths in the dungeon will result in the person appearing right where they entered, in the exact state as before they attempted it. There are side effects of course, like not being able to enter another dungeon for a week, as well as losing any experience or treasures gained inside the dungeon. Any knowledge gained does stay though, so if you improve a skill or learn a new technique or spell, you do get to keep that.

Oh, and there is the less obvious consequence of having experienced being killed. Because of course, you are fully aware of the entire process as you die. Most hope that their death is fast and painless, but unfortunately, that is often not the case, doubly so in dungeons. To the typical person, this experience is extraordinarily traumatic. So much so that a majority of people that die in a dungeon swear never to enter another one again, in some cases even swearing off combat altogether.

There is also a small percent that are totally overwhelmed by the experience of dying. They then experience what is known as spirit death. Wherein their body gets confused on whether they should be dead or not. They then go completely catatonic, and their spirit dies. Which for all intents and purposes, is the same thing as death. Many think they are cut out for it, and are willing to try for the extraordinary rewards one can earn for running dungeons.

Which are truly great, if the book I bought is anything to go by. It thus makes sense that almost everyone tries to enter a dungeon at some point in their life. While very few choose to ever enter such a horrifying place a second time, those that do are called Dungeon Divers. Though most tend to consider them complete psychopaths, or so the book described very impartially. Now, I do not like the thought of dying one bit. Even if it is a fake death, I definitely prefer living.

So logically, it would make sense not to enter a dungeon, right? Any reasonable person would come to that conclusion. However, I threw reason out the window the moment I fought a sentient tree that could breathe fire instead of running the fuck away. Not to mention charging into that incursion, or any of the other frankly absurd shit I have done. All to get stronger, of course. To become not weak, and able to fulfill this obligation of being a hero that has been given to me.

Funnily enough, this just so happens to be exactly what dungeons offer. Extraordinary rewards, but at extraordinary cost. So, imagine how happy I was when the book listed out all of the dungeon locations in Carnia! There are several dozen of them, as it turns out. Most are artificially induced though, with processes that I cannot even begin to understand. Apparently there are some religious groups that say artificially creating them goes against the goddess's will or whatever.

But she hasn't smited anyone for making one yet, as far as anyone knows. The one I am heading to is one of the naturally formed ones, and is one of the main reasons Carnia was built in this location at all. The dungeon dwarfs everything around it. As I walk up the road, the shiny red tower just seems to stretch higher and higher into the sky. Rumors say that they simply go up infinitely, and never end.

Though most scholars theorize that the amount of floors is finite and if one were to complete all the floors of the dungeon, they would find a top. None have been able to confirm that theory, however, as the higher up one goes, the more dangerous it becomes. Dungeons are a bit strange as far as their difficulty goes. Each one is assigned a tier, initiate in the case of the one I am about to enter. The higher the tier of a dungeon, the more difficult the monsters are within.

Yet not by assigning explicit levels to monsters, it adapts, oddly enough. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. For instance, an initiate dungeon will provide you with monsters at about your –or your party's– level. Meanwhile an archon tier dungeon will provide monsters that are equivalent to many levels above your own. Naturally, higher tier dungeons also have higher tier treasures waiting within. Additionally, as one goes up the floors, the monsters do get stronger.

Not only because the diver is improving, but just straight up more powerful. Monsters become smarter, work together more, and rarer variants start to appear as one climbs. I figured I should start with something simple though. I am still pretty new to this world, and I definitely lack experience when compared to most people of my level due to how quickly I have leveled up. So here I am at the Caverns of Ignistone. It is quite a popular one, if the crowds entering and leaving are any indication.

As I step inside the bottom of the dungeon, I am greeted with a truly massive open space. The zeroth floor of the dungeon is basically a gathering place. Glancing around I notice all sorts of stuff inside. From taverns, to equipment shops, and everything a dungeon diver could need. Naturally the contracts to set up shops in such a high traffic space are insanely powerful, and expensive. Most are owned by a single massive merchant organization known as the Dungeoneering Guild.

From what I have heard, it spans across the entire realm, and holds a near monopoly on these spaces. Luma sits proudly on my shoulder, and I am a bit worried that she will suddenly jump off in search of food or something. But she does behave herself, thankfully. I already bought plenty of supplies earlier, enough for about a month inside the dungeon, if my math is right. Naturally, I will be entering alone. Any reasonable person would find a party to join.

But I think that will be difficult for me without revealing my spirit magic and such, which would inevitably lead to my hero-ness being revealed. As for how one enters a dungeon, well that is very simple. In the very center of the floor lies a massive gate, towering dozens of meters into the air. In the center lies a ridiculously complicated magic circle. One of divine power. Each hour, the circle opens up a gate into a new instance of the dungeon.

One separate from all others, and thus with new treasure and monsters to slay. It seems like I am in luck, as a cluster of people is just about to enter the dungeon. I quickly fall in with them, easily blending into the mass of several thousand people. Most of them are first time dungeon runners, though I see quite a few that look more experienced. I don't know how I can tell. Something about them just says 'I have done this before.'

Which is fairly common, as experienced divers are often hired by groups of parties to guide them through the early floors. It helps lower the early death rate, and makes it far more likely for people to get out alive–and thus with their sanity intact. But to be honest, that sounds boring. Like, how can it be fun to just have a super powerful ally sitting there making sure you are somewhat safe?

I imagine it also hurts their experience gains massively, as the experienced diver would get most of the contributions with ease. You are essentially removing most of the point of the dungeons, which is to push yourself and get stronger fast. If there is one thing I have learned about the system, it is that the goddess really doesn't want people to level without putting in work. As fucked up as it sounds, the system is designed to make people struggle.

To push themselves, not only to grow stronger, but to protect what they care about. If you fail to push yourself, you might just lose whatever people and things you have managed to find in this world. Perhaps that is simply a lesson one must experience firsthand. As I glance around, there are several people entering solo like me. One person particularly stands out. They are wearing some pretty heavy looking purple armor that emits a faint blue glow.

Their faceplate completely obscures them and they carry a long stick on their back, which I presume to be a weapon. Which is quite hilarious, as the stick is nearly as tall as they are. It reminds me a bit of the muskets that the church was recently adopting in my old world. For their sake, I hope it is just as powerful as those muskets were. What is more intriguing is that I can't seem to look away from them. There is just something about them that seems familiar, almost as though it is calling to me.

I do manage to look away when they glance in my direction, though. Staring is rude, after all, I can't believe I did it for so long… Just as I feel them start to walk over to talk to me, a loud bell rings out. All attention turns towards the gate, as a resounding crack kills all conversation. In a display that is both horrifying and enticing, the gate splits reality open, beckoning us inside. Perhaps I will have a chat with that strange person later on. For now, there are monsters to slay, dungeon-style.