Ian was at home, having used the teleport crystal the caravan had been carrying to jump back. He had just finished taking a hot shower when a familiar scent tickled his nose.

  "It is not nice to break into the homes of your subordinates," Ian called out as he finished drying off.

  "If you did not want me here, you would not keep my favorite booze in an ice box," a feminine voice challenged from another room. He heard the cork pop out of the bottle as he pulled his pants on. As she had invaded his house, he figured he could get away with not wearing a shirt yet. He had spent too long on that damn wagon.

  "It is still kind to knock," he chastised.

  "And I am the kind of person to ask forgiveness, not permission," Allicia, the guild master of the Adventurer’s Guild, brushed him off. Ian had no idea how old this kitsune was, since they basically stopped aging once they gained their ninth tail. Alycia had been around when the Empire was founded some five hundred years ago. There were elves who spoke of her like she was a boogeyman.

  With a sigh, Ian joined her at his table. His favorite chair did not even groan under his weight—money well spent. "What do I owe the pleasure?" he asked as he pulled a mug of mead from a spatial storage ring.

  "I am conflicted about your reports," she admitted after her third sip of sake. "That dungeon sounds like a war zone. Dungeons that wake up into that tend to be dangerous. And that is before we count the ants."

  "I know," he agreed. "But you read the reports. It was actively protecting us—only letting controlled encounters through. Even the mobs not under its control were managed brilliantly. I am pretty sure only the scouts, druids, and I noticed. Honestly, I would not be surprised if our presence caused it to breach early."

  Alycia sighed and finished her bowl before pouring another. "That is what worries me. It is high-functioning. So either it has one hell of an assistant, or it spent its first few months drilling goblins."

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  "I know this decision weighs heavier on you," Ian said, "but I think you should give it a chance. You were not there. The sheer vitality of that place—it was like standing before the Dragon Emperor again."

  That made her stop and look up at him. "Really? That much? A dungeon that young should not give off that kind of feeling."

  "It was not just the dungeon," Ian continued. "It was like the whole thing was a single organism. The turtles and leeches are a mild infection it is dealing with. I have no doubt it will handle them in time. But you should know that all things take time."

  "I might need to visit it myself," she mused. "I have been buried under paperwork for so long. But no one else mentioned feeling that kind of vitality—not even the druids."

  "Well, how many of them have met a dragon?" he countered before taking another sip.

  "I see your point," she sighed. "So it had vitality—but did it have anything else?"

  "It had a sense that the deeper we went, the more it would challenge us," he answered. "I felt like it was learning us. Memorizing us. If I went back, it would remember what I had put on display. One day it will be the kind of place that gives in equal measure to what it gets. It will not outright try to murder people, but it will push them. And the more rooted it becomes in its knowledge, the more comfortable it will be in challenging those who enter."

  She nodded slowly. "So you are suggesting we send raw recruits—those who cannot dive anywhere else. Give it some chaff to chew on, to regulate its expectations, before sending another proper team in to inspect it again?"

  "Sounds like as good a plan as any," he said. "But swamps are not my scene. You should send someone with a water or earth affinity. They will have a much easier time pushing deeper."

  "Fair," she conceded. "But if I do not send you back, where will you go?"

  "Training," he replied. "Not sure where yet. But I want to be strong enough to delve that swamp. Something tells me I need to. That I need to reach the heart. My instincts tell me I am not ready yet. How crazy is that?"

  Alycia looked directly into his eyes for a long moment. Her silver gaze seemed to take in everything he was, dissecting him piece by piece.

  "That is not a statement to be made casually," she said at last. "It seems I really should visit this dungeon in person." With that, she emptied her bowl and stood.

  "You should," Ian agreed quietly. "And once you do, maybe you will understand." He watched her leave the room. It was rare to see her walk rather than teleport.