Chapter 19

  The chamber they were led to was unlike any dungeon core room Vael had ever seen.

  It felt deliberate—structured. The walls were smooth, reinforced with metal inlaid into the stone. A set of mechanical constructs stood at attention, unmoving but unmistakably watching.

  And at the center of it all, the core itself.

  It pulsed rhythmically, its faint glow casting sharp shadows along the floor.

  Ethan— that was what the dungeon core called itself—spoke again.

  "You’ve seen what I am capable of. I do not intend to be raided, looted, or treated like common dungeon prey."

  Vael crossed his arms. "That’s not how this works. You are a dungeon, whether you like it or not. If you exist, people will come for you. The Guild will send more adventurers, and they won’t stop just because you ask nicely."

  "And how many will you lose before you decide it isn’t worth it?" Ethan countered.

  Vael narrowed his eyes. "You can hold off groups like ours. But you aren’t invincible. A dedicated assault would wear you down."

  "At what cost?"

  That was the question, wasn’t it?

  Yes, Ethan would lose—eventually. But how much would the Guild spend to ensure that? How many adventurers would be wounded or killed before the dungeon core was cracked open?

  More than they’d like, that was for sure.

  Vael sighed. "Fine. Let’s cut to it. What do you want?"

  "Autonomy."

  Elric scoffed. "So you just want to be left alone? Not happening."

  Ethan’s response was immediate. "Then you want war."

  Tension thickened in the chamber. Vael held up a hand before things could escalate. "That’s not an option either. We need a middle ground."

  "And what would that be?"

  Vael thought for a moment before speaking carefully. "Regulated delves. Limited access. No more than a set number of adventurers per day. In exchange, we won’t treat you like a rogue dungeon that needs to be put down."

  Ethan was silent for a moment. Then— "And why would I agree to that?"

  "Because you’re already running low on resources, aren’t you?" Vael asked, watching for a reaction. "We know you’ve been scavenging. You need metal, enchanted gear, and who knows what else to maintain your constructs. Adventurers bring those things in—deliberately or not. A controlled dungeon benefits you, too."

  Another pause. Then—

  "And what do you expect in return?"

  Vael hesitated. He had his terms, but Ethan had revealed something interesting.

  This dungeon could think, could reason. And, more importantly, it had needs.

  He could leverage that.

  "We’ll want something beyond just loot rights," Vael said slowly. "The Guild is always looking for valuable partnerships."

  "Partnerships."

  "You said you don’t want to be looted and destroyed," Vael continued. "But that doesn’t mean you can’t trade." He watched the core closely. "You have something no other dungeon has—constructs that can be built, rebuilt, and repaired. You make things."

  Another pause.

  Then, something interesting happened.

  The chamber shifted slightly, mechanisms within the walls shifting. A small platform extended from the side of the room, and atop it…

  Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

  Equipment.

  Weapons, armor—some pieces simple, others clearly enchanted.

  Vael raised an eyebrow.

  "I can create," Ethan said, voice measured. "I can also enhance."

  The air in the room changed.

  Elric muttered, "That’s… not normal."

  Dain, now fully invested, stepped closer to examine the gear. He picked up a dagger, turning it over in his hands. "This enchantment’s stable," he murmured. "Better than most low-tier smiths could manage."

  Vael exhaled slowly. "Alright. That changes things."

  A dungeon that could make enchanted items? That wasn’t just valuable. That was game-changing.

  "I take it you want trade rights, then?" Vael asked.

  "If you want what I make, then yes."

  That… was interesting. It wasn’t just about survival anymore. Ethan wanted a system in place—something where he wasn’t just defending his dungeon, but benefiting from it.

  And Vael had to admit—there was potential here.

  Finally, he nodded. "Limited daily delves. A fixed tribute of materials—metal, mana-rich components, anything your dungeon needs to maintain itself. In exchange, you’ll provide the Guild with equipment—some as part of the tribute, the rest as contracted sales."

  Ethan considered that.

  "And in return, no interference beyond the agreed-upon delves."

  "Correct," Vael confirmed.

  A long silence stretched between them.

  Then—

  "Agreed."

  The deal was struck.

  ____

  Ethan watched through his Scout Golems as the adventurers made their way out of his dungeon, their movements careful but no longer hostile. The battle was over. For now.

  He let out a pulse of mana, triggering the concealed passages to close behind them. The negotiations had gone better than expected—he had secured his autonomy and established trade, which meant a steady influx of materials. That was a win.

  But he wasn’t stupid.

  They weren’t leaving because they couldn’t destroy him. They were leaving because they didn’t care enough to try.

  If the Guild truly wanted him dead, if they sent real forces—he wouldn’t stand a chance. Not yet.

  This wasn’t about power. It was about cost.

  They had weighed their options and decided that forcing a siege wasn’t worth the resources. It wasn’t because he was untouchable. It was because the effort required to wipe him out wasn’t justified when they could profit instead.

  That was the reality.

  He hadn’t won—he had bought time.

  Chip’s voice cut into his thoughts. “You look like you just swallowed something sour.”

  Ethan’s core pulsed slightly. “I just realized something.”

  “Oh?”

  “They don’t see me as a threat.”

  Chip paused. “…Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “No.” Ethan’s mana fluctuated. “Because if they ever do see me as one, they’ll get rid of me without hesitation.”

  That was the truth. Right now, the Guild saw him as a resource. A rare, intelligent dungeon that could be useful. But if he ever became a problem?

  They wouldn’t negotiate next time.

  Ethan turned his focus inward. He needed to grow. He needed to prepare. Because today, he had survived through strategy. Through making himself inconvenient to kill.

  But one day, that might not be enough.

  __

  The journey back to the city was silent for a long while. The other adventurers seemed lost in their own thoughts, processing what they had just experienced.

  Vael wasn’t much different.

  He had fought dungeons before. But never spoken to one.

  And that conversation lingered in his mind. The dungeon—Ethan—had been confident, even arrogant at times, but he had the power to back it up. Not overwhelming strength, not enough to make the Guild truly concerned… but enough to be inconvenient.

  And inconvenient things were dangerous in their own way.

  Dain, riding beside him, finally broke the silence. “What do you think the higher-ups will do with this?”

  Vael exhaled. “For now? Nothing. As long as it keeps to the agreement, the Guild won’t waste resources on forcing a conflict.” He glanced toward the sky, the fading sun casting long shadows over the road. “But that could change. Easily.”

  Dain frowned. “You think it’ll last?”

  Vael thought about the way Ethan had negotiated, the way he had secured his position rather than begged for it.

  “…No,” he admitted. “Not forever.”

  Dain grimaced but didn’t argue.

  Because in the end, dungeons weren’t meant to be like this. They were either tamed or destroyed. The Guild had chosen to tame this one—for now.

  But if Ethan ever stopped being useful? If he ever stepped too far out of line?

  The Guild wouldn’t hesitate to remind him that they had let him exist.