The days passed in a blur. The lack of sunlight quickly eroded all sense of time as Sam pushed deeper and deeper into Ghūl territory.

  More and more frequently, he found himself beset by [Nightseekers], and only his steadily improving grasp of [Arcane Eyes] kept them from catching him unaware. He also ran into sporadic Ghūl patrols. Those fights were fast and bloody, and more than ever, he felt the power from his increased skill tiers. Monsters that had nearly overwhelmed him when he’d first entered the Dungeon were now simple obstacles to overcome.

  He pulled his battered spear from the corpse of a [Ghūl Juvenile] and checked his tafla. He wanted to feel elated from his gains, but the nature of the killing made it hard to celebrate the wins. Regardless, he couldn't deny he’d made incredible progress.

  Name: Samuel Lin

  Race: Human

  Patron: N/A

  Class: N/A

  Rank: Iron

  Titles

  [Child of Babel]

  [Deific Mark]

  [Rodent’s Resilience - Tier 4]

  [Apostate - Tier 4]

  Achievements

  [First Blood]

  [Frugal Beastslayer]

  [Frugal Usurper]

  [Skill Morph]

  [Mana Network]

  Enhancement Skills

  [Basic Constitution - Tier 4]

  [Basic Regeneration - Tier 5]

  [Basic Stamina - Tier 4]

  [Basic Strength - Tier 4]

  [Arcane Eyes - Tier 2]

  [Basic Mental Resistance - Tier 2]

  Martial Skills

  [Basic Shield Proficiency]

  [Simple Melee Weapon Proficiency]

  [Spear Mastery - Tier 4]

  [Light Armour Proficiency]

  [Spira: 3,230]

  As soon as he’d been able, he’d purchased the armour skill. The sensation was bizarre. His tunic felt stiffer, his boots more robust. The second he removed the item of clothing from his body, it lost some of its ephemeral lustre, but as soon as he re-equipped it, it moulded to his body as if it were made for him.

  Most of his skills were right on the edge of reaching level five. The choice to purchase six skills at once was biting him in the ass, as it meant he’d need to do some serious triage when it came to choosing which skills to evolve, and in what order. He’d exchanged a few brief messages with Arther, though they hadn’t been overly helpful. Without knowing how the skills would evolve, it was nearly impossible to prioritize them.

  The other downside was that the skills didn’t absorb spira while they were waiting to evolve, so the longer they stayed there, the more potential was wasted. He almost regretted purchasing the armour skill, but he was desperate to try and keep his ragged attire together. His clothing was shredded, and his [Enchanted Warrior Cuirass] was beginning to look like a block of Swiss cheese. He didn’t need to look at his tafla to know that the durability was dropping rapidly.

  At least in the short term, he had a clear path forward for his next purchase. [Basic Regeneration] had reached tier five after a particularly nasty fight against a pair of [Ghul Apex Hunters]. They’d coordinated a vicious set of attacks, darting out from between the ruins with ruthless coordination.

  Once again [Arcane Eyes] came in clutch, and more and more, he was thankful for the bizarre set of circumstances that had allowed him to unlock the skill. Arther was still being cagey with the particulars, and Sam was determined to pry them out of him as soon as he got out of the gods–he was getting used to saying gods–damned Dungeon.

  He pulled up his talfa for what was probably the fiftieth time and reviewed his options for the skill evolution.

  [Standard Regeneration - Iron - Common - Upgradeable]

  Further increases healing and stamina recovery.

  Cost: 1,500

  [Standard Meditation - Iron - Uncommon - Upgradeable]

  Passive: Retains the effect of [Basic Regeneration].

  Active: Allows for the use of restorative meditation. While meditating, significantly increase the efficacy of natural regeneration. Cannot be used in combat.

  Cost: 2,000

  [Battle Healing - Iron - Uncommon - Upgradeable]

  Passive: Retains the effect of [Basic Regeneration].

  Active: Grants the user a significant burst of healing and stamina recovery.

  12 Hr Cooldown

  Cost: 2,500

  The choice of [Mana Sight] had been an easy one. While the other options had their uses, it had been far and away the superior skill. The morph into [Arcane Eyes] had been a happy accident, but he’d have made the same choice regardless.

  This decision, however, was far less cut-and-dry. His eyes had immediately been drawn to [Standard Meditation]. Being able to reduce the downtime between fights would have massive repercussions over the course of the War. Even over the past few days, he’d spent hours holed up in great discomfort, waiting for his injuries to slowly mend. Any time not fighting was time falling further behind. At a glance, it seemed like the weaker choice, but he knew it was stronger than it looked.

  In contrast, [Battle Healing] felt like the reactionary decision. While the burst of healing from the potion had undoubtedly saved his life, was that not exactly the purpose of a potion? Would he waste his upgrade on something that an item could easily replace?

  At a glance, it seemed powerful. If used correctly, he could activate it when an enemy thought him weak. A sudden influx of stamina could catch them unaware. Something like that could be the difference between life and death.

  But the cooldown was oppressive compared to meditation, which he could use at any time. Both skills had their clear advantages; it came down to what he needed right now.

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  He let out a huff and closed the tafla. He’d only taken a few minor scrapes from his run-in with the Ghūl patrol, and the skill wouldn't make a difference in either case. He settled down on a pile of stone, taking stock of his surroundings.

  The Crypts had transformed as he pushed farther into Ghūl territory. The mausoleums themselves were all but destroyed, creating rolling hills of broken stone. In the valleys, large mushrooms grew, needing no light to sustain themselves.

  He’d identified the first one he’d encountered, impressed by how useful the skill was.

  [Giant Redcap Mushroom]

  The Giant Redcap is one of the most voracious fungi on any settled world. Able to grow in almost complete darkness, this hearty mushroom is the basis of many subterranean ecosystems.

  Properties: Edible

  He’d picked the first few that he’d come across and nibbled at the distinctive red cap. To his shock, it was spicy, reminding him of something between a serrano and habanero pepper. The texture was rubbery, but not unpleasant. He’d made it a habit of picking the larger ones as he crept between the mounds.

  It was the blatant destruction of the Crypts that had given him the first indication that he was no longer alone in the Dungeon. Just over a day had passed from his battle with the Patriarch when he caught his first glimpse of torches suspended halfway up the wall of the distant cliff. They had appeared roughly in the middle of the Dungeon, and had hung suspended for a long time before eventually making their way down among the towering edifices.

  His immediate reaction had been to douse his own light, only to remember that the [Mooneye Gem] wouldn't be visible to anyone but him. The small chunk of rock had already saved him on multiple occasions. More than one ghūl had thought themselves hidden among the ruins, only to reveal shocked expressions when Sam had looked directly at them.

  The open expanse gave him a clear view of the cavern walls, and he’d spied two more parties making their way down over the following day. He was sure they'd encounter both sides of the faction war soon enough.

  He needed to hurry. Unlike a video game, he suspected that things wouldn't simply reset if the quest was completed. These were real, living creatures. He wasn't even sure if the Dungeon would remain open.

  He stored his weapons and broke into a light jog, keeping to the valleys as he made his way towards the end of the cavern. The path had become easier once he realized that his quest to kill the Matriarch had tracking enabled. The slight tug in his gut brought him resolutely towards the far wall—though he probably could have figured that one out for himself.

  All paths led towards the towering edifices carved into the rock. It reminded him of pictures he’d seen of Petra in Jordan, though this more resembled a traditional palace. It soared overhead, the tops of the columns lost somewhere in the gloom.

  More [Great Nemesian Bloodroot] dotted the landscape, bathing the scene in a ruddy light. Their roots snaked through the mounds of rubble, winding through the hills like ancient serpents. It was truly an otherworldly sight. In some other context, it might have been beautiful. The trees swayed in an unseen breeze, their pale bark glowing like burnished metal.

  He paused to catch his breath, and on a whim, checked the Ring countdown.

  [Ring Purge Initiates in 44:02:06:18]

  The line of text no longer elicited the same gut-wrenching reaction, but he couldn't help but stare as the digits ticked down.

  How had it only been six days? Six days, and his life had completely changed. It seemed ridiculous to think, but he wasn't the same person he’d been. The man who’d awoken in the forest seemed so juvenile to him now, a boy with all the wrong priorities.

  If the Spire was good for anything, it was good at hammering home what was truly important. First and foremost was survival. He understood why so much of humanity was considered weak by the other races. How many people were dropped in like him? With no basic skills, no tools to survive?

  He shoved the thought aside and continued his march, being sure to stay in the shadows, aware that he’d be marked as soon as his silhouette broke the tops of any of the rugged hills. His one saving grace was that there didn't appear to be any kind of hive mind among the Ghūl. His small skirmishes remained isolated, and no army poured forth from the Halls of the Ascendant Dusk.

  As he cleared the final few mounds, the stairs to the vast palace rose in front of him. He couldn't spot any guards, but that didn't mean they weren't lurking in the shadows. The entire place was saturated in mana, rendering [Arcane Eyes] all but useless.

  The only sound was that of rustling leaves. This was supposed to be the seat of Ghūl power, but it felt abandoned. Sam’s hackles raised, staring out at the flat expanse of stone before the vaulted entryway.

  The whole thing felt like a trap.

  The no-man’s land felt like an invitation to be riddled full of arrows…assuming the ghouls were even capable of using bows. How did they even manage small tasks with their outrageously long claws? He shook his head and checked the far walls for any safer routes.

  He felt like Frodo, stealing himself to take a run at the Black Gate. If there were a secret path, he’d take it, even if it meant fighting a giant spider. Despite his thorough inspection, no such route appeared, and he summoned his weapons as he prepared himself to make the charge towards the gate.

  His shield was hanging on by a thread; the wood splintered and chipped. The metal rim was riddled with dents, and the whole thing bent uncomfortably around his arm. He’d likely have to replace all his gear. His fighting style meant he was always in the thick of the action, his armour the first line of defence. It also meant that it took the brunt of the impact. He was likely going to be in a constant state of cycling through armour and weapons, at least until he found something of higher quality.

  Before setting out, he opened his tafla, eyes once again returning to the available skill evolutions. He’d given it a lot of thought over the past day and realized he’d missed a key element to one of the skills. It had been a critical oversight, one he was glad he hadn't overlooked.

  With a grimace, he made the purchase, wincing as the skill burned through his [Mana Network]. The sensation was becoming familiar, and each new skill hurt less and less.

  Satisfied that he’d done all he could to prepare, he took a deep breath, rose, and sprinted across the open expanse towards the stairs.

  The only sounds were those of his footfalls and the rush of his breathing. No cries came from the balconies overhead. No flight of arrows or javelins descended on him.

  He threw himself into the shadow of one of the looming pillars that flanked the entrance. The design was consistent with the brutalist style he’d seen throughout the Crypts, only this one was savaged and marred almost to the point of structural instability.

  The whole palace looked to have suffered the same fate. What kind of rage could have driven the Ghūl to take out their anger on a pile of rocks?

  Sam caught a whiff of the [Bloodroot] pollen on the breeze, answering his own question. The rage he’d felt would have driven him to do anything to hurt his foes, even something as stupid as hacking at thousand-year-old carvings.

  He peered around the pillar, eyes adjusting to the relative darkness inside the main hall. The vaulted ceiling extended upward for nearly a hundred meters, giving the sense of staring into some ancient cave. No torches burned in the sconces that dotted the walls. No tapestries of finery decorated its cold interior. It was a vacant, empty thing. A maw ready and waiting to swallow anyone stupid enough to set foot inside.

  He wished that it didn't include him, but he didn't see any alternative. In an ideal world, he’d thoroughly scout the place, watch for patrols to enter and exit, and mark their timings and numbers. He’d get a sense of the structure’s population, maybe create some sort of distraction to draw them out.

  He’d debated setting fire to one of the trees and doing exactly that, but he feared drawing other parties to his location.

  He was out of time.

  The longer he waited, the higher the chance that other Warriors would appear, and the quest timer on [Matricide] continued to count down. He still had a few days remaining, but he couldn't afford to risk it.

  The only way through was forward, and the only way forward was straight ahead. He let out a deep sigh and willed the [Mooneye Gem] to rise to its maximum height, giving him the largest field of visibility.

  He cranked up [Arcane Eyes] as far as he could reasonably sustain, bringing everything into a sharp, radiant focus. The building was infused with a bloody aura, but he hoped that the brighter life energies of the Ghūl would stand out against the gloom.

  He set his jaw and crept through the gate. His senses were pushed to the max, but the only sound was that of dripping water. No horrors of the night leapt from the shadows. No bloodthirsty nightmares pounced from the recessed alcoves that dotted the walls.

  He was completely and entirely alone.

  It was during that haunt across the hall that he realized the stress of waiting to be attacked was worse than actually getting attacked. Some small part of him wanted to end the charade and issue some sort of challenge. He figured the chances of them not knowing he was there were precisely zero, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

  He reached the other side of the main hall without incident, though the feeling of being watched only continued to intensify. Three doorways exited off the chamber, with passages leading up, down, and straight ahead. The tug in his gut from the quest clearly indicated the Matriarch was yet farther below.

  Reluctantly, he pulled back the [Mooneye Gem] and sent it down the winding stairwell. Again, nothing pounced. Resigned, he descended. The smell of damp earth rose to meet him as he corkscrewed downwards, being careful not to trip on the loose piles of bone.

  The passage levelled out, and he tentatively peered out into the corridor beyond. Rather, he’d expected it to be a corridor. Instead, he was met with a vast cavern, a warren of twisting passages converging in a natural den. Roots hung from the ceiling, illuminated by the light of bioluminescent mushrooms. Crude huts and shacks were built into the walls, and he thought he could make out pens that contained stunted livestock.

  The cavern was a village. Crude, haphazard, and poorly planned, but clearly a village. Of all the things he expected to find beneath Halls of the Ascendant Dusk—it wasn't this. He could make out the impression of distant movement, figures walking between the ramshackle houses. Had he truly entered completely undetected? Did they really have no security?

  Shocked, he crept forward, keeping low as he slunk along one of the cavern walls. The stone beneath his feet was the last remnant of whatever the original chamber had been, a lone path that led towards a large opening in the far wall.

  He only got three steps into the room before triggering the trap.

  The stone shifted with an all-too-familiar clunk, and he let out a groan as the sounds of clanking gears echoed from the walls around him. Thick iron bars slammed down behind him, blocking the entrance to the stairwell. The impact sounded like a cannon in the enclosed space.

  The silence that followed was the loudest he’d ever heard.

  You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.

  A lone howl rose from the village, followed by a third, and a fourth. A chorus of rabid yips and yelps joined the din, creating a rabid cacophony of violence.

  A high, keening wail joined in the song, overpowering all others with its fervour. The rest of the pack harmonized with it, then fell silent. The only sound that remained was that of distant footfalls, and beyond, a barking laugh that rose to the rocky ceiling overhead. It was a taunt—a challenge.

  The Matriarch had come.