Ethan’s focus remained on the adventurers as they cautiously advanced through his dungeon. Their discipline was leagues beyond the reckless charge of Ryn’s group. This wasn’t a band of desperate hunters—it was a professional team. And that made them a problem.
Before he could act, Chip spoke up, his tone unusually serious.
“Alright, before you do anything stupid, we need to talk about something important. You cannot kill these guys.”
Ethan frowned. “Why not? If they’re a threat—”
“They’re not just random nobodies like those hunters. This is an Adventurers’ Guild team. That silver-ranked guy? He’s a veteran, and veterans don’t just disappear without someone noticing. If he dies, the Guild will send more people, and those people won’t just be here to investigate. They’ll be here to wipe you out.”
Ethan tensed, his mind racing. That… complicated things. “So what, I just let them waltz in?”
Chip sighed. “No, but you need to understand how things work outside your little dungeon.”
A system prompt flickered in Ethan’s mind.
[System Information Accessed: Power Stages & Adventurer Ranks]
Stages of Power:
- Mortal Stage (Tier 1 - Tier 10): The foundation of all power. Every human starts at Tier 1, gradually improving until they reach Tier 10, at which point they can ascend to the next stage.
- Saint Stage (Tier 1 - Tier 10): A significant leap in power. Only the strongest major factions possess Saint-tier individuals, and none exist in this backwater region.
- ???? Stage (Tier 1 - Tier 10): A secretive third stage known only to the strongest factions beyond this region. No one here has reached it, but it exists.
- Ascended Gods’ Records mention seven total stages, but most of them remain a mystery.
Adventurer Ranks:
- Bronze Rank: The lowest tier of professionals. Many never progress beyond this.
- Silver Rank: More experienced and capable of handling mid-level threats.
- Gold Rank: Strong enough to handle powerful monsters and dungeons alone.
- Jade Rank: A step above Gold, often acting as elite specialists or commanders.
- Diamond Rank: Few reach this level. Capable of changing battlefields single-handedly.
- Disaster Rank: The strongest individuals, only called upon in crises—or when they cause one.
Ethan absorbed the information quickly. So adventurers here barely scratched the limits of the Mortal Stage, and the highest rank he might see in this region was probably Gold at best. But if he made too much noise, higher-stage individuals from more powerful factions might take notice.
He exhaled slowly, irritation prickling at the back of his mind. “I don’t want my home turned into some training ground for random adventurers.”
“If you start killing adventurers,” Chip continued, “the Guild will see you as a rogue dungeon. And rogue dungeons get eliminated.”
Ethan clenched his jaw. “So what am I supposed to do? Let them loot my dungeon? Take my constructs apart?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Chip’s tone took on a sharp edge. “You fight them. You challenge them. But you do not kill them. Give them a fight that’s tough enough to make them respect this place, but not enough to make them see you as an existential threat.”
Ethan considered that. It was… frustrating, but logical. If the Guild saw his dungeon as dangerous but manageable, they wouldn’t destroy it. Instead, they might do what they did with other dungeons—treat it as a controlled hazard.
Ethan watched them closely, his awareness stretching through his dungeon like a network of unseen threads. The adventurers were sharp—more disciplined than the hunters who had come before them. Their leader, Gareck, didn’t act recklessly, nor did he underestimate what he was seeing. That was both good and bad. Good, because it meant he was dealing with someone rational. Bad, because it meant any misstep could escalate things beyond his control.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
He had to handle this carefully.
“Chip,” he muttered internally, “if they’re this cautious, can I still push them back without killing them?”
Chip hummed. “Possible. But you need to be precise. If you make them think they can’t win, they might retreat. If you make them desperate, they’ll fight to the end. And if you kill that silver-ranked guy?” His voice darkened. “The Guild will not take that lightly.”
Ethan ground his metaphorical teeth. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid—becoming a constant target. He wasn’t some mindless core waiting to be looted, nor was he interested in being a training ground for adventurers he had no control over. If he let them treat his dungeon like just another hazard to be cleared, they’d come in waves.
No. He needed to set terms.
His voice rang out again, carrying through the entrance chamber. “Turn back. This dungeon does not welcome outsiders.”
Gareck stopped mid-step, his posture guarded but not aggressive. “We don’t mean harm,” he called back, “but we have a job to do. The Guild needs to assess this place.”
“And I have a home to protect.” Ethan’s tone remained even. “I will not be a training ground for strangers. I will not be a resource to be taken. This dungeon is mine.”
A tense silence followed.
Lirian, the younger adventurer, scoffed under his breath. “Dungeons don’t own themselves. They exist to be conquered.”
Ethan’s response was immediate. “Conquer me, then.”
Gareck’s stance shifted ever so slightly. Not quite aggressive, but more alert. “Is that a challenge?”
“It is a warning.”
Another silence. Then, surprisingly, Gareck smiled. It was a sharp, knowing expression, like someone recognizing an opponent worth respecting.
“Alright,” the veteran said. “Let’s see if you can back that up.”
Ethan’s constructs moved as one.
The first wave came from the walls—Scavenger Golems darting forward with unsettling speed, moving like a coordinated strike force rather than the usual erratic lunges of dungeon creatures. They weren’t built for direct combat, but their numbers and precision made them a serious threat.
Gareck reacted instantly. His sword lashed out in a controlled arc, severing one construct’s leg and sending it crashing to the ground in a heap of metal. Saria’s staff flared with mana as she conjured a pulse of force, blasting back a cluster of smaller constructs. Lirian, less composed than the others, swung wildly, narrowly avoiding a strike from a skittering drone.
“Watch your footwork!” Gareck barked.
They were skilled, but Ethan wasn’t trying to win outright. He was testing them. Watching their reactions. Understanding their limits.
And, most importantly, making them work for every step.
The Scavenger Golems adapted quickly, shifting their attack patterns as Ethan adjusted their directives. They feinted, they flanked, they forced the adventurers to stay moving. Every time one fell, another took its place, unrelenting but not overwhelming.
Gareck’s expression remained steady, but his eyes flickered with something that Ethan recognized.
Recognition.
The veteran knew this wasn’t normal. Knew that these weren’t just random dungeon mobs.
Then, without warning, Ethan escalated.
A deeper, heavier sound echoed through the chamber as the Combat Strider stepped forward. Taller than a man, its reinforced limbs carried it with a predatory grace. Its clawed feet scraped against the dungeon floor, its glowing eyes locking onto the adventurers with cold precision.
For the first time, Gareck hesitated.
“That’s not an ordinary construct,” he muttered.
Lirian cursed under his breath. “What is this place?”
The Combat Strider lunged.
Gareck moved to intercept, meeting the construct’s charge head-on. Metal clashed against steel as the two forces met, sparks flying as the veteran’s sword scraped against reinforced plating. The adventurers held their ground, forced to fight as Ethan pressed them, testing their responses, their endurance.
But he didn’t kill them.
He pushed them.
He made them understand that this dungeon was not just another obstacle to clear—it was alive. It thought. It fought back.
And, eventually, he made them retreat.
Lirian was the first to falter, his breath ragged as he barely avoided a strike. Saria followed soon after, her mana reserves running low. Gareck held the longest, but even he knew when a fight wasn’t worth pushing.
“Enough!” he called out.
Ethan halted the assault instantly. His constructs froze, motionless once more. The chamber fell into silence.
Gareck exhaled, stepping back carefully. His gaze flickered toward the nearest construct, then back to the unseen presence controlling them.
“You made your point,” he admitted. “You’re not just another dungeon.”
Ethan didn’t respond immediately. He let the weight of that statement settle.
Then, finally, he spoke. “Then carry my message back to your Guild. I will not be conquered. I will not be exploited. But if they are willing to negotiate, then I may be willing to listen.”
Gareck studied the still forms of the constructs. He gave a slow, measured nod. “I’ll relay your message.”
The adventurers moved carefully, retreating the way they had come. Even as they left, Ethan remained on edge, watching them until the last footstep vanished beyond the dungeon’s entrance.
Only then did he finally let himself relax.
Chip’s voice broke the silence. “Well. That was interesting.”