"Your Eminency, we have arrived," a voice announced from outside, pulling me back to the present as the carriage came to a halt. The door opened, and I was the first to step out, clutching onto my Staff of Impotence. Dungeon Master 07 followed, dismounting heavily with his great sword, shield, and armor in tow.

  I took a few steps toward our destination, surrounded by towering trees that seemed to reach endlessly into the sky, their ancient trunks twisted and gnarled. The dense canopy above filtered the sunlight into patches, casting a dappled pattern across the forest floor. The silence here was almost sacred, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. But in the midst of this natural beauty, the large entrance ahead stood out, a stark, man-made intrusion that felt wholly out of place. It was an elevation of concrete, cold and unfeeling, that jutted out from the earth like the gaping maw of some ancient beast.

  "So this is it, huh?" I asked, my gaze also locked onto the entrance.

  Dungeon Master 07 walked up to my side, "Yes, this is definitely it," he nodded, his eyes fixed on the entrance.

  No words were needed between us; we both knew what the other was thinking. This entrance was eerily reminiscent of an underground bunker from our world, a gigantic, gaping maw of concrete that seemed to swallow the light around it.

  Retracting his gaze, Dungeon Master 07 looked at me, concern evident in his eyes. "You know, it's not too late to back out."

  "What makes you think I want to back off?"

  "Nothing," he sighed. "Just that I'd be more at ease if you stayed somewhere safe, like Dungeon Master 09."

  "Well, too bad for you I'm not. I'm not… I’m not as as Dungeon Master 09, I can handle myself just fine. Besides, speaking of Dungeon Master 09, only he has managed to level up so far when it was supposed to be the both of us. I want my due; it's been months."

  "This isn't a game."

  "Which part of my behavior has led you to assume I ever considered this a game?"

  "..."

  He massaged his temple, clearly frustrated. "What a headache," he muttered, then heaved a heavy sigh. "Alright," he finally conceded, before heading over to the coachmen and our escort.

  At first, they insisted on staying, but Dungeon Master 07 made them understand that while the area was currently safe, thanks to the angel and his men who had exterminated all the spawns in the surrounding area, it wouldn't remain that way for long. New spawns would inevitably appear, and waiting here while we ventured into the dungeon for what could be days was a very bad idea. It took some time to explain, but eventually, they gave in and left, leaving only the two of us behind.

  From the moment I saw Dungeon Master 07 coming out of the faith with the sword, shield, and armor, I understood that he intended to personally explore this newly discovered dungeon. And understanding that, I knew I was going to tag along, whether he wanted me to or not. He obviously did not; earlier was not the first time he tried to make me give up the idea. But I was adamant, stubborn even, I was coming too. I wanted to level up and I wanted to see that dungeon for myself.

  Being a Dungeon Master myself, with thus a past as a Dungeon Core, I had a morbid curiosity about dungeons, what they felt like, what they looked like from "this" perspective, from what the dungeon core system refer to as an "invader'"s perspective. Dungeon Master 07, being a Dungeon Master as well, most likely understood that this was why I insisted on tagging along.

  After what happened in the temple, I genuinely felt like I owed him something. I wanted to be a good girl, to stay with Dungeon Master 09 while he explored the dungeon alone as he suggested I should. But regardless of that desire to do him right, I felt like an opportunity like this one, to explore a dungeon with a fellow Dungeon Master, was simply something I couldn't pass up.

  It wasn't just curiosity, though. I felt something swelling up inside me, something I had a feeling I could only fully unleash inside the dungeon, I genuinely wanted to get stronger.

  What happened in the temple was a heavy blow that would forever haunt me. I had acquired quite a bit of strength since I left the chateau. Sure, if you looked at the time frame, it had only been a year, but it was a lot of level-ups, a lot of sweat, and tears shed. So I had developed quite a bit of confidence in myself. But that encounter, it was humbling, and not in a pleasant way. It was frustrating. Which is why I wanted to use this opportunity to get stronger.

  We watched as the escorts and the coachmen disappeared into the distance. Once they were out of sight, Dungeon Master 07 turned back to the bunker's entrance. "Let's get this over with," he said, leading the way toward the dungeon.

  As Dungeon Master 07 led the way, I took a deep breath, gripping my staff a little tighter as we approached the entrance. The massive concrete structure loomed above us, its surface cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the wild beauty of the forest surrounding it. The closer we got, the more the air seemed to change, growing heavier with each step. It was as if the very ground we walked on was trying to warn us to turn back while we still could. But we pressed on, our footsteps echoing off the walls as we stepped into the shadow of the entrance.

  The inside was just as ominous as the outside. The tunnel stretched out before us, its walls lined with old, corroded metal and patches of mold, mosses. The faint light from the outside struggled to penetrate the darkness, creating a gloomy atmosphere only accentuated by the cold, damp air clinging to my skin. Dungeon Master 07 moved with a calm, practiced ease, his heavy armor clinking softly with each step. I followed close behind, my eyes adjusting to the dim light as we ventured further into the depths. The silence was thick, almost oppressive, broken only by the sound of our footsteps and the occasional drip of water from the ceiling.

  As we moved deeper into the dungeon, the surrounding darkness seemed to grow, swallowing the light completely. But then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, the opposite began to happen. A faint, ethereal glow emerged ahead of us, bathing the walls in a soft, blueish hue. The deeper we got, the clearer the light became, until finally, we reached its source.

  Embedded in the side of the concrete walls was a tensely clustered deposit of rock, shining with a sky-like blue light. The glow was mesmerizing, the way it flickered and danced along the jagged edges, illuminating the surrounding darkness with an otherworldly aura. Dungeon Master 07 and I exchanged a glance, both of us recognizing it immediately. As former Dungeon Cores, we were all too familiar with this substance.

  "Manacyte," I whispered, the word slipping from my lips like a sigh of relief. "Finally, something dungeon-like." I walked up to the deposit on the wall, reaching out to touch the crystal’s surface. It pulsed with energy under my fingertips.

  "You thought so too?" Dungeon Master 07 asked, his voice echoing softly in the narrow tunnel.

  "Yeah," I nodded, feeling the hum of the manacyte through the staff in my hand. "There's been something deeply unsettling about this place since we first stepped in. It looks—"

  "Too man-made?" he finished my sentence, nodding in agreement.

  "And too modern, too," I added. The sight of those concrete walls reinforced my understanding of why Dungeon Master 07 had to come down here.

  In the system we accessed as Dungeon Cores, we were encouraged to give our dungeons a general theme. For instance, back when there was only one of us, our dungeon was undead-themed. Then, as more Dungeon Masters spawned we were each handed a theme to take care of, for example, Dungeon Master 02 oversaw a domain themed around Eldritch Beings or Celestial Beings, while Dungeon Master 06 managed a dungeon themed after forest creatures. Each theme was tied to natural habitats, forests for Forest Creatures, Natural Cavities for elemental beings, flooded ravines for Deep Sea Monsters. There's a constant to each themes, all of them were environments that could naturally exist.

  But this? This was different. You don’t find something this man-made in the wild because it had to exist somewhere in the world for it to be an option in the system in the first place. Now, of course, it was possible for a dungeon to pull off an elven, dwarven, or even demonic theme, which could involve structures that looked "man-made." But that required the existence of a civilization that had an architecture like this one. And in this world known as Fiendfell, such architecture was unheard of, except by those who initially came from a world where this kind of structure was common.

  A reincarnatee like us.

  Reaching out, I forcefully dislodged a chunk of manacyte from the deposit before activating a skill.

  

  [Identification].

  [Status]- Object: Raw Manacyte Chunk

  - Material: Manacyte

  - Origin: Unnamed Dungeon, 47.215° VS, 112.530° TE

  - Age: 97 years

  - Condition: Raw

  [Expand]

  I turned to Dungeon Master 07 and announced, "I just used Identification on this manacyte chunk. It told me it’s 97 years old."

  "97..." he echoed, musing aloud. "This is new."

  I nodded, considering. "This dungeon is either very young, or this is just a newly spawned manacyte deposit."

  For human standards, 97 years was a lot of time, but despite my currently very finite nature telling me that 97 years was a significant amount like a human would, I had to accept the truth. Having spent tens of thousands of years as a Dungeon Core, I knew that 97 years was merely a speck in the lifespan of a dungeon, if dungeon core even have one.

  "Either way," I continued, tossing the manacyte chunk to the side, "we have to go deeper to confirm if that’s the case or not."

  Dungeon Master 07 nodded and led the way. As we walked, I noticed the concrete walls widening. Not that they weren’t wide enough before, but now it was on a whole new level. Intriguing and slightly worrisome as it was, this change was most welcome for the sorceress that I am. Casting from a distance was always preferable, and there was something claustrophobic about being stuck in a corridor-like place like this one. However, with how wide it had gotten, that sensation was simply gone. It still felt like a corridor, but now it was more like being in a large showroom, one that has thus far presented us with nothing except for manacyte deposits blooming along random sides of the walls. Sometimes up on the ceiling, sometimes right on the ground, or even in the walls, sometimes tucked away in the corners.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  I walked beside Dungeon Master 07, eyeing the manacyte deposits and using my Identification skill on them when a thought crossed my mind. "We haven’t encountered any spawns yet. Strange, right?"

  "I guess," Dungeon Master 07 said, sensing that I had a point to make, but not without first glancing apprehensively around.

  "They won’t suddenly seep from the walls, will they?" I asked.

  Dungeon Master 07 frowned at my question, looking around once again, clearly trying to figure out what made me ask that particularly. After a few moments, as he noticed the grin on my face, he finally understood. A chuckle escaped him, a chuckle that I could tell was partly self-deprecating. "Let’s hope they won’t. Tell me, you who have a good memory, there wasn’t any mechanical construct with wall-phasing ability, was there?"

  "Not that I remember," I replied confidently before adding, "but if there is, it has to be a very recent addition to the catalogue."

  In our Dungeon Core days, one of our most favored approaches to handling intruders in our domain was to create chambers that were conventionally inaccessible to any "invaders", for these chambers were literally sealed within the walls. We’d pack these chambers, usually near the dungeon entrance, with spawns that had the skills or abilities to phase through these walls, which looked normal to the invaders. They would make their way deeper into the dungeon, only to be ambushed from behind by monsters they had no clue were there.

  It was always a pleasure to see those red little dots representing the invaders being overwhelmed by the blue dots representing our spawns, followed by the notifications at the end.

  It was times like these that made me miss being a Dungeon Core. Back then, there was little to no worry about authority falling into the wrong hands or how many more of your fellow reincarnates had gone rogue. We didn’t even know about that stuff yet. The only concern we had was the possibility that someone like us might exist out there somewhere. Back then, it was just us, deep in a cave, scheming against anyone bold enough to step even a toe into our domain.

  Reminiscing about those days, we continued walking, Dungeon Master 07 still leading the way, until we stumbled upon an intersection that offered us three paths: one that led straight, another that turned to the right, and a last one to the left. We were in the process of deciding which path to take when a noise caught our attention. It didn’t take long to notice that it wasn’t just a noise, it was a sensation, a thud that we felt through the ground. The sound was rhythmic, so rhythmic in fact that it almost sounded robotic. Our early assessment was proven right when something started to close in on us through one of the passages we were considering.

  A massive figure emerged, easily above three meters in height. At first glance, it looked like a golem, but for very obvious reasons, it clearly wasn’t. The construct was partly covered in moss, with glowing blueish patterns embedded in its armor-like body, reminding me of the manacyte glow. It had a bulky frame, its arms ending in what seemed like oversized shields, and it moved with a mechanical precision that spoke all too well of its artificial nature.

  "This is..." Dungeon Master 07 began, trying to figure out what exactly the thing was.

  "That’s a P-23 Ritter," I answered for him.

  "I see," he nodded, "a knight then... and from the look of it, a defender."

  I nodded in confirmation.

  Mechanical constructs, like their undead, shadow creatures, and familiar counterparts, often mimic existing beings rather than have unique creatures of their own. This mimicking nature is particularly true for shadow creatures and familiar monsters. For instance, a shadow creature could only exist if there was once a non-shadow creature equivalent to it; it in its most natural form spawns as a reflection of something that had already existed. Familiars, too, are summoned entities that replicate the properties of existing beings. Mechanical constructs follow a similar precept, though they differ slightly from their shadow creatures, undead, and familiar counterparts. While these three are natural to this world, spawned because certain requirements for their existence were met, such as a corpse being left in the wild enabling the spawning of an undead, the mechanical construct in front of me was distinctly artificial, a product of the dungeon itself, and clearly modeled after a human creation, a knight, or more precisely, a Defender, as Dungeon Master 07 had mentioned, a special knight subclass focused heavily on defense.

  As the creature noticed us, it began to charge, its heavy footfalls reverberating through the chamber. Thud, thud, thud. The prospect of finally facing a spawn thrilled me. Pointing at the creature, I activated my [Hexed Frost Sword Conjuration], summoning ten shimmering swords of ice but unleashing only one. The first sword struck the charging construct, and for less than a tenth of a second, I saw its surface glow iridescently before it shattered into countless shards, yet not before causing the construct’s pace to slow. But it didn’t stop. 'Oh,' I murmured, intrigued by its durability. The construct quickly recovered and resumed its charge. This time, I unleashed two more swords, one after the other. The first slowed it again, and the second caused it to stumble, halting its advance

  Once again, I caught the fleeting iridescent glow each time my swords made contact. Frowning, I wondered what was causing it. It was then as I did that I noticed something that made me ask out loud, "Wait, what?"

  "What is it?" Dungeon Master 07 asked, stepping to my side.

  "I can apprai—" I began to explain when I noticed the mechanical construct preparing an attack that seemed out of character for a Defender. Aiming at us, a large barrel extended from the mechanical construct’s arm, and a ball of condensed lightning shot toward me. With a swift move followed by a firm stance, Dungeon Master 07 deflected the lightning with a backhand swing of his shield, sending it crashing into the wall beside us.

  "You were saying?" he prompted, turning toward me.

  "I don’t know how but…I can appraise that thing," I replied, pointing at the P-23 Ritter. Dungeon Master 07 frowned at my explanation.

  "You didn't have appraisal, right?" he asked.

  "Yes I didn’t and I still don't. I just have identification."

  Identification was useful for many things, like identifying the materials composing an object, detecting what skills or abilities were in use nearby, and even gauging the potency of attacks thrown at me. This last one made me adept at attacking with the right force and defending against incoming spells or magic. However, it was imperfect, as this ability only applied to external, non-physical attacks, I simply couldn’t gauge the strength of a physical attack aimed at me. Had I possessed Appraisal, I would have access to a complete analysis of living targets, their status, skills, and abilities. I’d also be able to gauge the strength of martial-type skills and abilities. But alas, I didn’t have that missing half of the analytical skillset; Identification didn’t extend to living beings, at least, it wasn’t supposed to. Yet, here I was, seeing an interface beside the creature’s face as if I had Appraisal.

  

  —

  [Identification]Name: P-23 Ritter

  Race: Humanoid Mechanical Construct

  [Status]- M.A.: 5780?/????1????4?????9????2????9???

  - V.D.F.: 1350?

  - Offense: Calibrating...

  [Skills]- D???a???m???a???g???e??? ???A???b???s???o???r???p???t???i???o???n???: Level 3

  - D???e???f???e???n???s???i??????v???e??? ???M???a???t??????r???i???x???: Level 4

  - S???h???o???c???k??? ???R???e???s???i??????a???n???c???e???: Level 2

  - E???n???e???r???g???y??? ???D???i???s???c???h???a???r???g???e???: Level 3

  - E???n???h???a???n???c???e???d??? ???D???u???r???a???b???i???l?????i???t???y???: Level 4

  - A???u???t???o???-???R???e???p???a??????i???r??? ???P???r???o???t???o???c???o???l???: Level 4

  - B???a???r???r???i???e???r??? ???G???e???n???e???r???a???t???i???o???n???: Level 4

  - E???l???e???c???t???r???o???m???a???g???n???e???t???i???c??? ???I???m???p???u???l???s???e???: Level 3

  - S???y???n???t???h???e???t???i???c??? ???A???r???m???o???r??? ???P???r???o???t???o???t???y???p???e???: Level 3

  - B???l???u???e???p???r???i???n???t??? ???D???e???f???e???n???d???e???r???: Level 4

  —

  "Though it's a very glitchy mess," I said, surprised. "But I'm positive I can appraise that thing with my identification skill."

  Dungeon Master 07’s gaze went from me to the P-23 Ritter. I half expected him to say this was normal for mechanical constructs, but all he offered was a puzzled "I see."

  Deciding to test something out, I unleashed another sword at the construct. As expected, the result matched my assumption, or perhaps not. I wasn’t entirely sure anymore. What was certain was that it brought a smile to my face:

  —

  [Identification]Name: P-23 Ritter

  [Status]

  - M.A.: 3218?/????1????4?????9????2????9???

  - V.D.F.: 527?

  —

  Grinning widely, I unleashed another sword. And noticed that each time my sword made contact with the iridescent membrane, it visibly reduced the construct's strange status value. In two more blows, I brought it down to "527." I readied myself to unleash one final strike, believing it would be the finishing blow. My fifth Hexed Frost Sword shot forward, closing the distance between us in a split second. As the construct tried to shield itself with its shield-like forearm, my sword penetrated the membrane, shattering it, and lodged deep into the knight-like mechanical construct.

  The Hexed Frost Sword had impaled the mechanical construct, but instead of the expected instant destruction, it pierced through its forearm and lodged awkwardly in its torso. The construct jerked and twisted, struggling to free itself, but the secondary effect of my Hexed Frost Sword had already taken hold. Frost spread from the point of impact, tendrils of ice slowly crawling over the construct’s metal frame like creeping vines. The once vibrant, iridescent membrane faded, leaving the construct exposed as the ice overtook its form. Despite its frantic efforts, the construct’s movements grew sluggish as the icy grip tightened

  I couldn't help but study the glitchy status interface again, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. As I focused on the construct, more information appeared, as if breaking through the membrane had unlocked a hidden layer of data:

  —

  [Identification]

  - Name: P-23 Ritter

  [Status]

  - M.A.: 3112?/????1????4?????9????2????9???

  - V.D.F.: 0

  - Condition: Heavily Damaged [Running at 27% capacity]

  [Material]

  - Unmeltable Iron

  - Refined Manacyte

  - Voidstone

  - Alloyed Manacyte

  - Shadowglass

  - Mystic Alloy

  - Volcanic Ore

  - Aetherium Thread

  - Stormsteel

  - Dragonite

  - Adamantite Filament

  —

  The list read like the ingredients on the back of a product, a subtle hint at what it would take to create something like this. I could almost see it in my mind, a blueprint forming from the materials listed. My identification skill was revealing not just what the construct was made of, but the exact percentages of each material. It was almost like a recipe. An ungrounded confidence bloomed within me, the feeling that I could somehow reverse-engineer something this mechanical construct. But deep down, I knew that was out of my reach, for I didn’t have the thing that enabled the creation of such monsters, an authority.

  The construct’s now visible status continued to degrade. The percentage capacity displayed on the interface kept dropping as the ice spread further, seeping into every joint and crevice, freezing it solid. As it reached a low of 0%, the construct's movements stopped altogether. The frost had claimed it, and with one final shudder, it "died".

  The moment the construct ceased functioning, it began to vanish, collapsing into itself as all spawns do upon defeat. The ice, now unsupported, crumbled into shards and dust. Amidst the rubble, something gleamed faintly, catching my attention.

  I stepped forward, curiosity guiding my actions, and sifted through the debris. Dungeon Master 07, who had been observing in silence, now moved closer, his eyes narrowing at the object I was reaching for.

  "This is…" he began, his tone curious.

  I carefully lifted the item from the rubble and appraised it with my identification skill:

  —

  [Identification]

  - Name: Marinette

  - Object: Standard Steel Sword

  - Material: Steel

  - Origin: Darius's Steelforge

  - Age: 73 years

  - Creator: Darius

  - Owner: Snakey

  - Condition: Well-maintained

  [Special Attributes]

  - None

  [Recommended Use]

  - Basic melee combat. Effective for cutting, slashing, and stabbing.

  —

  I stared at the simple steel sword in my hands. It was just a depressingly ordinary weapon for defeating a creature like that one, well-made but completely unremarkable. So much for a lot. I nonetheless gave it a few experimental swings before turning back to Dungeon Master 07.

  "Just a common steel sword with really nothing special about it," I said, shrugging, answering his earlier question. "Apparently, it used to belong to someone nicknamed Snakey, or maybe that was his name. A questionable name, in my opinion, but oh well…"

  I tossed the sword back down to the ground, uninterested. I had no use for such a plain piece of loot. My attention was already shifting elsewhere. From the distance, I heard the familiar thud of heavy footfalls, like the ones earlier, only this time there were several of them.

  I peered into the darkness of the chamber as the new threats emerged into view. Mechanical constructs, just like the one I had defeated, were coming into the light. There were at least five, maybe more. I grinned widely, excitement bubbling up within me. There was something strangely rewarding, no, exhilarating, about seeing the effects of my attacks displayed so clearly in-interface. I wanted to see more of it.

  "They’re all for me," I declared, as I stepped forward, already preparing another set of Hexed Frost Swords.

  Dungeon Master 07 chuckled, behind me. "Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to steal anything from you. Feel free to go nuts."

  "I intend to, my dear."