It was possible that this was all my fault. Not that I was blaming myself, but I was starting to appreciate that the attitude of King Alexandros was based on more than just prejudice. Crazy as it sounded, it was possible that some god had primed this dungeon to emerge in my path, either as a roadblock or as some way for me to improve my situation. No gain without pain, after all.

Or maybe they were doing it for laughs.

It was a scary thought, that my actions could be predicted that closely. Or even worse, that they couldn’t, and whoever was responsible had whoever knew how many other roadblocks primed for where I might go.

The villagers were being pretty good about it. Even though one of their own had died, they hadn’t brought it up with me. They hadn’t even brought up my status as a Champion, even though I was pretty sure they knew. My best guess for how was Reynard blabbing to his hunter mates, but as long as they didn’t ask, the whole thing could remain unspoken.

Still, even if no one was blaming me, I couldn’t help but feel partially responsible. Between that and the fact that I couldn’t go anywhere until it was fixed, I was happy to help.

“So, what is the goal here?” I asked the meeting.

“I’m not sure,” Chief Urnmor admitted. “We’re not familiar with dungeons, or how they work.”

“Right now, the dungeon is in the middle of a Break,” Reynard said authoritatively. “That means it will pump out monsters until it runs out of mana. How long that takes, depends on how big it is.”

“Which depends on how much mana it has access to, and how much time it’s had to grow,” I said with a frown. “I think we can assume it doesn’t have much experience, at least.”

“What do you mean?” Urnmor asked. Reynard was giving me a puzzled look as well.

“Dungeons use mana to grow, but they get experience the same way we do,” I said. “They get levels, and they get… perks as their levels increase. Things like spatial manipulation and extra monster types. My guess is that this dungeon won’t have anything other than fungal monsters. Maybe some simple traps.”

“That still gives it a wide variety to work with,” Reynard said. “I think you can have a fungal version of most sorts of monsters.”

“They’ll all have the same weaknesses, though, won’t they?”

“True,” he agreed. “And they tend to be weaker than whatever they’re copying.”

“Right. So as I see it, there are three basic options. We can bottle it up and kill the monsters until they stop coming. Then you keep delving it regularly to keep it under control. That’d be the Kingdom approach.”

I looked around to see how the village council was taking that idea. Not well, was what I judged.

“Or,” I continued. “You can send a party down and reach the core. If we get there, I know how to stop the break.”

“That’s what you did in Talnier,” Reynard put in. “Just what did you do?”

“Guild secret,” I said smugly. “Pretty sure you’re the last person they’d want to know.”

He scowled, and I looked around at the rest of the meeting, who weren’t looking very happy.

“Or, we could go ahead and destroy the core, and end the dungeon,” I said. Bearing in mind, that one will probably form again, given that the mana snarl is still down there.”

“We should destroy it,” Turem, the leader of the hunters, spoke up. There were some grunts of agreement around the table. Looking at me, he tried to explain. “I know your people see dungeons as a resource but we don’t want one so close to our settlement.”

“You don’t have to justify it to me,” I said. “However you want to play it.”

“We might be able to redirect the mana flow from the base of the dungeon so that it flows more smoothly,” Serenal said thoughtfully. “We’d need to discuss it with—” the owl-kin stopped, suddenly startled by something. “Yoroly!” she exclaimed.

All around the table, the villagers erupted into a chorus of variations on “Yoroly!”, “We should have—” while looking guilty.

“Who’s Yoroly?” I asked.

Chief Urnmor winced. “Yoroly Willowshroud is our shaman,” he said. “We really should have invited her.”

Of course, nothing would do other than to immediately bring her in. And for some reason, I was the best person to do that.

“She’s old,” Serenal explained as she led me down the flower-lined path. “And quite eccentric. We really should have sent someone to check on her when the attack happened, but she doesn’t live in the village proper.”

Indeed, we were travelling past the outer ring of trees that I thought of as the village.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” I asked.

“She has her wards, and she is level seven,” Serenal said. “She’s probably fine, and she doesn’t like company.”

“So no one likes her, is what I’m hearing.”

“It’s not a matter of liking her,” Serenal said, with some frustration. “She’s just difficult. If I went out to see her, she wouldn’t leave without an explanation of what was going on. And when I told her, she’d insist on meeting you before going anywhere with you.”

“So by bringing me in from the start…”

“Cuts through several layers of delay,” Serenal sighed.

The path led us to a small clearing. Despite the open ground, the canopy overhead was completely grown over with foliage, leaving the forest as dark as I’d seen it during the day. Or at least it would have been if not for…

“Are those flowers glowing?” I asked.

[Identification]: - Glowstone Blossom (mature)

“Yes, they’re very pretty,” Serenal said. “The nectar is an alchemical ingredient. You’ll want to climb that tree over there.”

She pointed at a lone treehouse, about thirty metres up its tree.

“No lift?” I asked.

“There is one, but she keeps it at her level, and won’t let it down for visitors,” she said. “If she likes you, she might let you go down on it.”

“Right.” I moved towards the tree. Serenal made no move to follow me. Not a matter of liking her. I thought. Right.

At least the was a ladder of sorts. At first, I thought that planks had been nailed to the tree, but on closer examination, I saw that ladder rungs had somehow been grown out of the trunk. Druid magic, probably.

I started to climb, my System-enhanced body making short work of the vertical distance. About halfway up, I caught a glimpse of a face looking down at me through the hole in the platform. It didn’t look old.

She’s probably got a granddaughter or some other kid looking after her, I thought to myself and kept climbing. I didn’t see her when I got to the top.

The ladder led to an open platform that formed a ring around the tree. The actual house occupied the other half of the platform and, presumably, part of the tree as well.

“Hello?” I said walking around to what looked like the front door. “Elder Willowshroud?”

A cry came from inside the house. “Who’s that talking? That you, girl, messing about?”

“No,” I shouted back. “You’ve got a visitor!” I knocked loudly on the wooden door.

“Oh, you weren’t lying were, you? You think I’m fooled that easy?”

The door was flung open, and an old squirrel-kin, her fur a mixture of white and grey, looked me up and down.

“Not even a convincing illusion,” she sneered. “A human, here? Do better!”

That was a new one. I blinked in surprise and then reached out and flicked her on the forehead. She reeled back, allowing me entry into the house.

“A physical illusion? Girl, just what have you been playing at?”

“Rude,” I told her, and then cast [Blind]. Then, because it was a little dark in here, I cast [Light], sending it up to the ceiling and increasing the brightness until I could see the room clearly.

The old woman took to being blinded fairly calmly. Or maybe it just seemed that way since the spell blocked out sound. She didn’t seem to have panicked, but she pulled out a knife and started swiping randomly around her. I made sure to stay out of reach.

There was another person, a young squirrel-kin girl, who was looking at me with frightened eyes.

“Is there a reason she thinks I’m an illusion?” I asked in a casual tone. There was a table and chairs, and I judged one of the chairs to be out of knife range for a little while. I sat down. “Are you some kind of budding [Illusionist]?”

The girl flicked her eyes at her master before responding. “Shamans can do anything, long as they’re taught. But I can’t—” she waved at me— “So I know you’re real.”

“Very wise,” I said and cancelled the [Blind] spell.

“-and every misbegotten whore that claims to be your friend!” Yoroly yelled. She looked around wildly and fixed her gaze on me.

“You!” she exclaimed. “You’re not an illusion!”

“Ah, progress.” I deadpanned. “No. I’m a visitor. The village was attacked, your council is needed.”

“You attacked the village?”

“No. I was in the village when it was attacked.” I said patiently.

She eyed me with hostile intent. “You think I can’t take you? You don’t have my power!”

“I think you need to chant your spells, or you would have dispelled my [Blind] spell,” I pointed out. “I’m not here to fight, but I don’t think it would go well for you.”

Just to be clear, I hadn’t randomly started bullying old ladies for the fun of it. [Charm] had told me, as soon as I saw her, that the old woman responded positively to rudeness and direct opposition. Given how accommodating the rest of the village had been, I could see how they might not get along.

The old squirrel-kin glared at me for a moment more and then seemed to deflate. Only once she’d decided I wasn’t a threat, or a victim, did she actually consider what I’d been saying. “Who died?” she demanded.

“Just one, so far. Ikini,” I said, letting [Memorise] bring back a name I’d only heard once before. “A dungeon popped up, and they need your help to get rid of it.”

“Don’t be daft, human girl,” Yoroly scoffed. “There’s no way I’d let a dungeon get anywhere near…” she paused, glared at me again, and started chanting a spell. [Charm] didn’t read her demeanour as hostile, so I let her.

Her eyes glazed over for about thirty seconds. Then her whole body jerked, her ears standing up straight. Then she was glaring at me again.

“There’s a dungeon that just popped up!”

I rolled my eyes. “Nothing gets past you. Now that you’re caught up, let's get you to the council.”

“I’m not done yet,” Yoroly complained. “I still have more questions.”

“You can ask them at the council,” I said. “Let’s get going.”

I looked over at the squirrel-kin girl.

“Bring your apprentice too,” I said. “If nothing else, she can check to make sure her family is all right.”

Yoroly’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded. [Charm] was telling me that she didn’t like being told what to do, but she respected me for doing it. Weird.

“Get my bag, Luluti,” she said. “We’re going to the village.”

She said it like we were going to Mount Doom or something, but Luluti just nodded and grabbed a leather satchel crammed with… junk. Yololy herself grabbed a staff, a gnarled and twisted stick of wood, topped with a large green crystal. Curiosity got the better of me.

[Identification]: - Staff of Shydaru - Quality: Perfect - Properties: Focus (Theurgy), Protection, Range Increase - Created by

That’s new, I thought. I wanted to ask what a focus was, but the basics seemed pretty clear, and I could wait to learn the details.

I got to take the lift down. I had to do the hauling so it didn’t feel like much of a privilege. We joined Serenal, who hadn’t approached a step closer from where she left me.

“Oh good,” she said with a brittle smile. “You managed to convince her to come.”

She bowed to Yoroly. “I’m sure that now you’ve joined us, your wisdom will help everything go wonderfully.”

Yoroly didn’t pause, clumping her way along the path at a steady pace, about half the speed of what I would consider walking pace.

“Yeah, yeah, stick it up your butt, slut. I don’t like it any more than you.”

She kept going on to the village. Luluti, following along behind, shrugged as she drew even with the druid.

“Sorry,” she said and walked on.

Serenal looked at me. “Thank you so much for convincing her.”