Chapter 13

  Ethan was oblivious to the encroaching adventurers, too focused on refining his latest dungeon expansion. His Omni Striders and Combat Striders were patrolling the halls, his scavenger golems were efficiently stripping resources from the forest, and his speaker system was finally working at an acceptable level. But that wasn’t enough.

  He had more space now, and that meant more opportunities to build.

  His current layout was functional but uninspired—a winding labyrinth with basic traps and strategic ambush points. It had worked against the first wave of intruders, but Ethan had no illusions that future enemies would be so easily caught off guard. The smarter ones would adapt. They’d expect pitfalls, blade traps, and mechanical ambushes. If he wanted to stay ahead, he needed something better.

  “Alright, let’s make this more interesting,” Ethan muttered.

  Chip floated beside him, his ever-present grin in place. “Oh? Got some grand new ideas?”

  Ethan scanned his domain. His control had expanded again after his last tier increase, giving him more room to work with. Now, instead of just adding more traps, he wanted to introduce something new—misdirection.

  Most dungeons relied on monsters to wear intruders down, forcing them through an endless gauntlet of attrition. But Ethan? He had constructs, not mindless beasts. His advantage wasn’t just numbers—it was control.

  “Decoys,” he said finally.

  Chip blinked. “Huh?”

  “Fake paths, false treasure rooms, misleading constructs,” Ethan elaborated. “Most people expect dungeons to be predictable. If I set up routes that look rewarding but lead them into dead-ends or traps, I can waste their time and resources before they even get close to me.”

  “Ooooh, devious,” Chip said, nodding in approval. “I like it. Psychological warfare.”

  Ethan smirked. “Exactly.”

  The first step was constructing false treasure rooms—chambers filled with seemingly valuable loot but guarded by overwhelming defenses. These would act as bait, tricking adventurers into exhausting their energy for worthless gains. To make them convincing, he repurposed some of the salvaged weapons from Ryn’s group, arranging them on pedestals or inside reinforced chests. The gear was useless to him until he perfected his replication process, so this was as good a use as any.

  Next, he altered the dungeon’s layout. Some corridors would loop back on themselves, while others would lead to heavily trapped sections disguised as shortcuts. His constructs would patrol in seemingly random patterns, giving the illusion of an organic, unpredictable dungeon rather than a structured mechanical system.

  And finally, the Omni Striders would be equipped with another modification—projection units. It was a crude system for now, but by using basic illusion runes, they could emit flashes of light, distort shapes, or even briefly mimic humanoid figures to disorient intruders. It wasn’t much, but combined with the new layout, it would add another layer of unpredictability.

  The system had even acknowledged his efforts and granted him another blueprint

  [New Construct Design Recognized- Basic Mirage Golems]

  He glanced at the Engineer Golem prototype, still deactivated in the corner. It would be a long time before he perfected that, but the idea of creating constructs that could build others still lingered in his mind. If he could pull it off, he’d break free from the dungeon’s mob limit entirely.

  But that was for later.

  Right now, he had a dungeon to defend.

  The scouting team moved cautiously through the forest, their senses alert. They had heard the rumors—the strange mechanical dungeon, the missing hunters, the unnatural presence lurking beneath the earth. For many, it was just another job. For others, it was an opportunity.

  The silver-ranked veteran leading them, a man named Garrick, wasn’t taking any chances. “Stay sharp,” he warned as they neared the dungeon entrance. “If the reports are true, this isn’t a normal dungeon.”

  One of the bronze-ranked adventurers scoffed. “It’s just some backwater ruin. The villagers are probably exaggerating.”

  Another, more wary, muttered, “You weren’t there when the Church wiped out that last dungeon near Iron Hollow. The core went feral and nearly took out half their paladins before they put it down.”

  Garrick didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the yawning entrance ahead. There was no ominous glow, no eerie pulsing of elemental energy like most dungeons. Instead, there was only cold, mechanical stillness.

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  Something about it unsettled him.

  This wasn’t a normal dungeon.

  And if that was true, then they had no idea what they were walking into.

  ____

  Ethan’s mana pulsed through his dungeon, his awareness stretching out to the very edges of his expanded domain. His constructs moved into position, the Omni Strider stationed near the entrance while the Combat Striders patrolled deeper inside. The scavengers, for now, were left to their usual tasks—there was no need to risk them in a fight.

  Then, movement.

  A dozen figures, heavily armed and armored, were approaching his entrance with the deliberate caution of professionals. Unlike the hunters who had blundered in before, these people moved in formation, their weapons drawn, their eyes scanning every inch of the surroundings.

  Ethan didn’t need to guess who they were.

  Adventurers.

  He had known this would happen eventually. The village wouldn’t just ignore his dungeon, not after the disappearance of Ryn and his group. Someone was bound to come investigating.

  But knowing it was inevitable didn’t make him any happier about it.

  His constructs shifted, his mana adjusting their positions. The Omni Strider remained at the entrance, its newly installed vocal system humming faintly as Ethan prepared to use it for the first time in an actual encounter.

  The adventurers drew closer.

  And Ethan spoke.

  “State your intentions.”

  His voice rang out, clear and mechanical, reverberating through the air.

  The adventurers froze.

  —-

  Gareck had been through plenty of dungeons in his time. He’d fought in ruins, labyrinths, and even once in the twisted remains of a dungeon that had gone berserk after its core was shattered. But this?

  This was something new.

  The voice that rang out wasn’t some guttural beastly growl, nor the mindless roar of an instinct-driven monster. It was precise, controlled—artificial. A dungeon core that could speak.

  One of the younger adventurers at his side, a bronze-ranked recruit named Lirian, tightened his grip on his sword. “Did… did the dungeon just talk to us?”

  No one answered immediately. The entire team stood tense, scanning the entrance for any signs of movement.

  Gareck’s eyes narrowed. “It did.”

  Another adventurer, a woman named Saria, shifted uneasily. “I thought only high-tier dungeons had cores that could communicate directly.”

  “They do.” Gareck’s voice was grim. “And even then, most don’t.”

  He wasn’t sure what unsettled him more—the fact that this dungeon core was talking or the way it talked. There was no malice in its tone, no overt hostility. Just a flat, mechanical demand for their purpose.

  It was controlled. Intelligent.

  That meant trouble.

  He took a step forward, keeping his stance open but wary. “We’re representatives of the Adventurers’ Guild,” he called out, his voice steady. “We’re here to assess this dungeon’s threat level and determine its value.”

  Silence followed. Then, after a long pause—

  “Assessment acknowledged. Do not engage in hostile actions.”

  Lirian let out a slow breath. “It’s… letting us in?”

  “No,” Gareck corrected, scanning the entrance. “It’s watching us.”

  He could feel it. That oppressive awareness pressing down on them—not malevolent, but present. The dungeon wasn’t just letting them in. It was studying them.

  That was the moment Gareck realized something else.

  This wasn’t just a dungeon.

  It was a mind.

  Gareck motioned for the group to stay sharp as he took the first step forward. The others hesitated, but they followed, their weapons at the ready. The entrance yawned before them, unnatural and precise—not a cave, but an intentional design. Smooth walls. Reinforced structures. No signs of natural erosion or typical dungeon growths. It was calculated. Built.

  As they moved inside, the first thing that struck them was the silence.

  No dripping water. No distant echoes of creatures scuttling through the dark. Just the quiet hum of something unseen, like the subtle vibrations of a massive, slumbering beast.

  Then, the first construct emerged.

  It stepped forward from a recessed wall slot—not from a natural chamber, not from an animal burrow. A humanoid figure, roughly the size of a person, but entirely mechanical. Metal limbs, reinforced plating, and a singular glowing eye at its center. It stood motionless for a moment before shifting its stance slightly. Observing.

  Saria inhaled sharply. “That’s not an elemental construct.”

  Gareck’s grip on his weapon tightened. “No. It’s not.”

  Lirian took a half step back. “I thought Ryn’s group said this was an elemental dungeon?”

  “They were wrong,” Gareck muttered.

  The construct remained still. No immediate aggression. No reckless charge. Just… waiting.

  Then, from the walls, more movement. Not just one, but several. Some skittered like oversized insects, others moved with the eerie precision of trained soldiers. They weren’t mindless. They weren’t rampaging beasts.

  They were organized.

  Gareck exhaled slowly, realizing just how wrong their initial assumptions had been.

  This wasn’t a dungeon filled with mindless monsters.

  This was a battlefield.

  And they had just stepped into enemy territory.