Chapter 17

  The Adventurers' Guild hall in the nearby city was a sturdy, well-fortified structure—less an office and more a command center for those who made their living facing danger. Inside its main chamber, several ranking officials sat around a reinforced wooden table, deep in discussion.

  Gold-ranked adventurer Reiner Vaughn leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a deep frown creasing his face. “So, what’s the latest on that rogue dungeon?”

  Guildmaster Eldrin Kael, a broad-shouldered man with streaks of silver in his dark hair, exhaled sharply. “We still don’t know if it’s rogue. The first assessment was incomplete. All we know is that it killed Ryn’s group.”

  A jade-ranked woman, Vessa Myrr, tapped her fingers against the table. “If it is rogue, it needs to be put down. If it’s stable, we can establish controlled access for high-value expeditions. Either way, we need a full evaluation before we make a move.”

  The discussion continued, voices firm but measured—until the doors to the chamber burst open.

  Gareck strode in, his normally composed expression tight with urgency. His gear was scuffed, dust from the dungeon still clinging to his boots.

  Eldrin’s gaze snapped to him immediately. “Report.”

  Gareck took a breath, then spoke. “That dungeon is unlike anything we’ve seen before.”

  Silence fell.

  He continued. “It’s sentient. Fully aware. It speaks, it strategizes, and it doesn’t follow normal dungeon behavior. It didn't just defend itself—it challenged us.”

  That got a reaction. Reiner straightened, his brows furrowing. “Challenged?”

  Gareck nodded. “It fought us, pushed us back, but never killed us. It wasn’t just defending territory—it was making a statement.” His eyes flickered toward the Guildmaster. “And it made one more thing very clear. It will not be treated as just another dungeon to be farmed.”

  Eldrin sat back, fingers steepled. “Interesting.”

  Vessa narrowed her eyes. “That sounds dangerously close to a rogue dungeon.”

  “No.” Gareck shook his head. “If it wanted us dead, we’d be dead. It held back.”

  Reiner exhaled. “That’s not normal.”

  Gareck’s voice remained steady. “Nothing about it is normal. Its constructs aren’t mindless. They think, adapt. It’s creating an army. I’ve never seen a dungeon like this before.”

  Eldrin considered that. Finally, he nodded. “Then we escalate. We’ll send a Gold-ranked team for further evaluation.” His gaze hardened. “If this dungeon wants to negotiate, we’ll see if it has anything worth offering. If not…”

  His meaning was clear.

  The Guild would decide whether this dungeon would be an asset—or a threat to be eliminated.

  ___

  The road leading into Redroot was quiet, save for the steady clatter of hooves and the creak of wagon wheels. The assessment team moved with practiced efficiency, their eyes scanning the surroundings even as they neared the village. The tension in the air was palpable—this wasn’t just another dungeon check.

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  Vael rode at the front, his gold-ranked insignia catching the dim light. He had read the report from Gareck and the others, but reading something and seeing it firsthand were two very different things. A dungeon that thought? That negotiated? He had to see it himself.

  Dain, the scout, kept his voice low as he rode beside him. “You believe what they said?”

  Vael exhaled through his nose. “I believe they fought something they weren’t ready for. I also believe that if Gareck was shaken, we should take this seriously.”

  Another adventurer, a bronze-ranked warrior named Elric, scowled. “It’s still a dungeon. Even if it talks, it’s a monster. That doesn’t change.”

  Vael shot him a glance but didn’t argue. The Guild had always classified dungeons as hazards or resources. Either they were culled, or they were controlled. There was no precedent for negotiation.

  The village came into view. Redroot was small, but there were signs of recent unrest—gathered villagers speaking in hushed voices, wary eyes tracking their approach. News traveled fast in places like this.

  Marella, the village elder, was already waiting outside the hall as they dismounted. She wasted no time. “You’re here about the dungeon.”

  Vael nodded. “We are.”

  She gestured for them to follow. “Then let’s talk.”

  Inside, the air was tense. A few of the villagers sat on the outskirts of the room, but the real conversation was between the assessment team, Marella, and Gareck—who, despite his exhaustion, had stayed behind to make sure the report was properly understood.

  Vael got straight to the point. “You fought the dungeon. You made contact with whatever runs it. What are we dealing with?”

  Gareck leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Something new.” His tone was firm. “This isn’t a typical dungeon. It has structure, intelligence. It fought us without killing us. It sent us back with a message: it doesn’t want to be looted or treated as a training ground. But it didn’t act like some half-aware core lashing out in instinct. It was deliberate.”

  Vael studied him. “And you think it really wants to negotiate?”

  “I think it doesn’t want to be destroyed,” Gareck countered. “But it’s strong. Stronger than it should be. It’s not desperate.”

  Dain frowned. “So what? We report it and let the higher-ups decide?”

  Vael was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “We’ll assess it first. If it’s truly an intelligent dungeon, then we need to understand its limits, its strengths, and its weaknesses before making any decisions.”

  Gareck exhaled, leaning back. “Then you better be careful.”

  Vael’s expression didn’t change. “We always are.”

  Outside, the assessment team prepared to move. They wouldn’t be riding straight to the dungeon entrance—not yet. First, they’d observe. Study. And then, once they had the information they needed… they’d decide what came next.

  __

  Ethan’s awareness stretched through the dungeon, his senses filtering through the vision of his Scout Golems. The mechanical constructs skittered across the terrain, hidden within the underbrush and rocky outcroppings surrounding his dungeon’s entrance.

  There.

  Figures lurking at a distance, watching. They weren’t approaching recklessly like the first group. No, these ones were patient, calculating.

  Adventurers.

  They weren’t making a move yet, just observing. That was enough to put Ethan on edge. This wasn’t a raid—it was reconnaissance. They wanted to understand his dungeon before committing to anything.

  Smart. But not smart enough.

  A mental command pulsed through his network of constructs. Deeper within the dungeon, mechanisms shifted, stone walls giving way to reveal a concealed passage—one of several he had carved into his growing domain. It wasn’t large, barely wide enough for his smaller units to pass through, but that was the point. A hidden access route, built to allow his scouts to slip in and out without detection.

  He had planned this for a while. It was a necessary adaptation. His dungeon’s main entrance was a choke point, but that also made it a liability. He needed alternative paths—ones the adventurers wouldn’t easily find.

  His Scout Golems responded instantly, peeling away from their hidden positions and slipping into the passage. The walls sealed behind them as they entered, vanishing into the dungeon’s depths without a trace.

  Ethan exhaled, his core pulsing with quiet satisfaction.

  They think they’re watching me. But I’m watching them.

  Chip hummed. “I don’t know whether to call you paranoid or just efficient.”

  “Both,” Ethan muttered.