As soon as they split up, Gem turned his attention back to Chesu. “So, what can I do with the staff?”

Chesu shook his head. “Not much right now. After your dungeon is empty, one way or another, I can show you how to make gear. For right now, you’ll only be able to recreate the weapon as is. But in the future, after some levels, you can gain the ability to separate the ability from the weapon, and thus make other things that have the Amplify Magic property… or whatever else you absorb.”

“Make drops, of course!” Chesu laughed as if Gem had set up the best joke. “As much as I’d love to say these folks are here out of the goodness of your heart, we both know that’d be a lie. They’re delving into your dungeon because Sleyn is dying, sure, but really they’re here for two things: gear and glory.”

Gem sent a distorted image of a nodding crystal.

It wasn’t fair to assume these adventurers were more altruistic than any others. In some way, they knew they’d be instrumental in saving the world. But ‘saving the world’ was such an intangible goal. Becoming more powerful or getting more gear was far more obtainable. It was a thing they could set their sights on without needing to believe in some cause or greater power. Because they would become that greater power.

“Well, good news, bad news. Looks like they’re carrying on.”

Gem returned his attention to the group. Likara was sobbing into her open palms while Dinara comforted her with a side hug around the shoulders. Mark was conveying to Tabeth and Lars that the staff was gone.

“Maybe the dungeon absorbed it, or one of the creatures took it and ran off. These little bastards haven’t exactly been playing by the Rules of the Dungeon.”

“No such thing,” Chesu said quickly. “Or, well, not in the way he’s portraying it.” The wisp waved a hand through the air. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Tabeth nodded solemnly. “Alright. Let’s head out then. Maybe we’ll come across it later, if a mob took it. But no use delaying even more. We only took out two packs of mobs.” The Swashbuckler walked off, followed by Lars.

“Father is going to kill me,” Likara wailed.

Mark appeared at her side, all smiles and soothing words. “Let’s worry about that when we get out of here, Lini. For now, you just keep yourself safe, alright? No more tears, now.”

The Enchanter wiped at her eyes, a bright smile on her face.

Dinara gripped her shoulder tighter as she glared around her sister’s golden braid.

Gem wondered what the drama was there, but no one said another word. Mark just tipped them both a wink and scampered off after Tabeth and Lars.

“Gets better over time. If people survive your dungeon, they’ll come back and run it again and again.”

Gem wasn’t sure if he wanted this group to survive. They were absolutely entertaining, but they also seemed to be way too absorbed in their own dramas to be useful. Maybe they would grow with time. Mature and become fascinating creatures that could take down the Ostrum and win the day.

He just hoped they had time to wait for it to happen.

Down below, the adventurers continued forward through the dungeon. There were no more packs of mobs in the first room, so the group explored around a little before continuing into the second. Here they faced two separate packs of mobs, each containing a Cicadossum and a Goosalope.

Because they had already seen such a group in action before, the adventurers were able to take them out with brutal efficiency. Likara was functionally useless, of course, but her companions did their best to cover for her severely reduced capabilities.

Once the second pack was down, the group took a bit of a break to recover mana and hit points. Chesu assured Gem this was normal dungeon delving behavior, and that he would even gain experience points slowly for each bit of mana adventurers gained within his dungeon. It didn’t sound like a whole lot, but perhaps with his mysteriously multiplied experience gain, increased over all the time folks ran his dungeon, it would equate to a lot.

Or, at least, Gem hoped.

When the party had rested—or, rather, when they had finished teasing each other long enough for everyone’s mana to recover and wounds to heal—they set out towards the ominous entrance to Magi’s room.

Gem felt a shiver of anticipation run through his core.

He was excited to see Magi in action against a coordinated team, instead of just the flying Ostrum. Additionally, Gem knew there was a single ambushing Goosalope hidden just outside the entrance, and it would attack just before everyone opened, throwing off their rhythm. Would they wait longer to go in to the boss fresh? Would they waste more time recovering and potentially open themselves up to other attacks, say from the Cicadossums they left alive after Feign Death kicked in?

Or would they—

“Wait.”

Mark’s voice rang crisp and clear through the air, halting everyone in the party.

Chesu leaned against Gem’s crystalline surface, excitement clear on his face.

“I think I see something. It’s… not… yes. There.”

Gem expected to see him pointing towards the Goosalope who was nesting in the bushes ahead. But instead, Mark was pointing off the path, to the north end of his dungeon.

To where a trap room lay.

Chesu made an excited noise and drummed his hands across Gem’s surface. “Ohhh, I was hoping this one was smart! Or, you know. Smart. With air quotes and everything.”

Gem responded quietly, as if answering at full volume would alert the Rogue of the mistake he was about to make.

“Here’s hoping!” The wisp laughed, but there was nothing humorous about the smile on his lips. Too many teeth showed.

Below them, Mark led the others towards the hidden door, even if they swore there was nothing there.

“It’s subtle,” he said, even as he continued to push forward. “I almost missed it except for a subtle difference in the stone textures. You see, this stone here is a different material, but it vanishes behind this other material but the block lengths don’t quite line up. I think it’s a door.”

“Well, who would blame you? He’s not a Sleyn native, or at least Tabeth seems to be really convinced he’s from Dirt. But if he’s an Issy, he’s at least been trapped here since the Ostrum arrived. He’s had a lot of time to look at blocks.” Chesu laughed again, as if he made a funny joke.

“Many reasons, but not an insignificant amount of it is class based. As a Rogue, Mark’s used to looking for hidden things. Seeing the small differences that can mean a trap or worse.”

Gem thought about it for a moment.

The wisp shrugged. “They aren’t subtle, I’ll say that much. But who knows. Maybe he’s one of those who struggles to see what’s right in front of him.” Chesu looked down at Gem’s crystal surface with a grin. “He does seem the type.”

It didn’t take long for the adventurers to figure out how to open the door. Once faced with the awe of the water-filled room, Mark started shucking his gear off and storing it in his inventory.

“What the hell are you doing, Dirtworlder?” Tabeth’s voice took on a higher pitch than normal, and Gem could tell by the turn of her head that she was embarrassed to see so much of her companion’s skin.

The twins giggled and one of them whistled.

Mark grinned at them before turning to look at Tabeth. “Someone has to investigate, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like sitting around and waiting for my armor to dry. I also don’t feel like fighting a boss with soggy leather on, so this is faster.” He stripped off his pants, slowly bending at the waist to pull them off in an unnecessary way that forced the others to look at his behind.

Gem was amused to see he was wearing shorts under his leather pants. They were marked with little brown and green squares that looked a lot like Gem’s dirt blocks with grass on them, but these were spotted, as if compiled of their own miniature blocks.

When his pants were off and his gear all secure in his inventory, Mark strode forward with confidence.

“Wait!” Tabeth shouted after him. “What if there’s a trap? Or a monster?”

Mark put a hand to his chest and mocked a tender look. “Aww, Tabeth, I’m touched. You’re actually concerned for me? How sweet.” He did draw one of his daggers from his inventory and waved it at the Swashbuckler. “This better? Or would you rather be my big strong bodyguard and protect me from all the bad things?”

She frowned at him before looking away quickly as if to avoid staring at all of his exposed flesh. “I just want you to know that I very much hope you die in there.”

“Promises, promises.”

Chesu tapped his hands on Gem’s surface again. “Let’s hope it’s a promise that gets kept.”

Gem said with an image of a frowning crystal.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just so excited. We might see our first death here.”

Gem didn’t say anything, but the comment worried him. It was one thing to theorize about dungeon theory and how his designs and actions would potentially lead to the deaths of those who stalked his halls, but it was another to actually watch it happen. Would he feel guilty? Distraught? Excited?

Chesu seemed excited.

But the wisp wasn’t exactly the kindest creature at base. Perhaps he was just bloodthirsty. Adventurers had likely harmed his cores before, otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

Mark was about halfway from the door to water by the time Gem looked back. He approached the pool with caution and dipped his feet in. His companions either shouted words of encouragement (in the case of the twins) or tried to coax him away (this from his healer and tank). The Rogue was showboating, making a grand gesture of wading his way through the waist-high pool of water.

It ended when his foot came down on the first pressure plate.

The look of elation dropped from Mark’s face as the spike trap launched from the wall and into his side.

“Oooh,” Chesu said with an audible wince. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”

The Rogue scrambled away from the pressure plate, but in the wrong direction. Another trap sprang and this time Mark tried to dodge, but the serrated tip of the spike trap still gouged a wound in his unarmored back.

“Get out of there, you idiot!”

Tabeth stood in the doorway, concern written all over her face. The twins cowered behind her, Likara’s face buried against her sister’s shoulder. Lars was trying to push past, likely to get in range to heal, but Tabeth put out a hand to stop him.

“You can’t. If you get hurt, we can’t save you.”

“I only need to go in half as far as he has.”

Tabeth shook her head furiously. “And what if there are other traps he missed? The whole place could be littered with them!”

A look of fear crossed Lars’s face. Likely not just because he was worried about his own safety, but the safety of their Rogue if he sprung too many traps.

“Mark. Please. Come back. Listen to Tabeth.”

“Shut up you guys!” The Rogue pointed ahead of himself, to the dais where the trapped Mob Heart waited. “There’s loot over here! And look. No more traps.” He slammed his foot down in one of the un-trapped spots to prove it. “I’ll be fine.”

But he wasn’t fine. By the time he made it to the dais, he’d sprung two more traps and was bleeding profusely from multiple wounds. His determination won out, however, and he grabbed the lava-filled Mob Heart with both hands.

“Do it.”

“You have to do it. They know the risks coming in. And this is the trap you set. Break the heart.”

Gem knew he couldn’t let Mark get back to his group with the heart. And he couldn’t risk the Rogue bringing it into the water, because he didn’t want to turn this room into a block generator.

With a heavy sigh, Gem broke the Mob Heart, just as Mark was holding it over his head in victory.

The screams that emanated from the Rogue were unlike anything Gem had witnessed before. Alongside the bubbling noise of his skin melting and the sizzling of his hair, it was too much.

If Gem had a stomach, he would have lost all contents of it across the Core Room.

He got the notification of death just moments later. It was unnecessary.