Chapter 24

  Ethan observed the flow of mana through his dungeon, his core thrumming as his vision stretched across the expanding chambers. The first floor’s layout had settled into something far more structured, but now the true challenge lay ahead. His second floor was nearing completion, and his constructs had already begun integrating the latest advancements.

  The modular power cores were the biggest breakthrough. Unlike the fixed mana sources that powered his earlier constructs, these cores could redistribute energy between units, extending their operational time and enhancing efficiency. A wounded Sentinel could now transfer excess mana to a nearby ally instead of shutting down entirely.

  His engineer golems moved in tandem, installing the cores within the reinforced frames of his Sentinels. The Mark I versions, which now stood stationed throughout the second floor, were designed to take full advantage of this system. Each one could alternate between melee and ranged combat, their dextrous fingers allowing them to wield weapons with a level of finesse his previous constructs lacked.

  Chip floated beside him, watching the modifications take shape. “I have to admit, this is a step up. I was getting tired of watching things explode as soon as they ran out of juice.”

  Ethan’s core pulsed with amusement. “Efficiency is everything. If I can keep them fighting longer, it means fewer gaps in my defenses.”

  “Right, right. And let me guess—you’ve already got some devious setup planned to make adventurers regret stepping in here?”

  Ethan didn’t answer immediately, instead shifting his focus to the second floor’s structure. The modular power cores weren’t just for his Sentinels; he had installed them in key mana conduits across the dungeon itself. Certain sections would subtly drain or restore energy, affecting both his constructs and any adventurers who relied on magical gear.

  The deeper they went, the more those shifts would become noticeable. Would a mage realize their spells were growing weaker until it was too late? Would a warrior notice that their enchanted blade was losing its bite mid-fight?

  He didn’t need to answer Chip’s question. The dungeon itself would provide all the answers soon enough.

  ___

  Corwin adjusted his grip on his shield, eyeing the sealed entrance of the dungeon with a measured gaze.

  It had been three days since the first floor closed off for restructuring, and in that time, he and his party had prepared for whatever came next. Their last delve had been rough, but it had proven one thing—this dungeon was evolving. Fast.

  Lena cracked her neck. “Can’t say I’m not curious. First time I’ve ever seen a dungeon shut down mid-cycle like that.”

  Renna leaned against her staff, her expression thoughtful. “Dungeons do grow, but not like this. It’s moving almost too efficiently. Normally, they expand in bursts, adapting after significant challenges, but this one… it’s more like it’s actively designing itself.”

  Derric smirked. “So we’re walking into a dungeon that might’ve learned from how we fought last time? Sounds fun.”

  Osric, ever the quiet observer, simply nodded. “It’s worth studying. If it’s adjusting its layout based on prior encounters, then it’s not just reactive—it’s strategic.”

  Corwin took in their words. Each of them had been in their fair share of dangerous dungeons, but this one was different. Their group had formed years ago, brought together by a mix of necessity and circumstance.

  Lena and Derric had been part of a failed adventuring team, the last survivors after a disastrous raid. Renna, once a scholar’s apprentice, had turned to field work when her mentor vanished in an unexplored ruin. Osric rarely spoke of his past, but his skill with a bow and eye for traps hinted at years of experience. And Corwin himself—he had once been a soldier, trained for formation tactics and battlefield endurance. That training was what held them together, what let them function like a single unit.

  And they would need every ounce of that discipline now.

  The dungeon entrance rumbled open, revealing the path ahead.

  No turning back now.

  ___

  The first floor remained familiar, yet the changes were noticeable. The flow of combat was smoother, the transitions between rooms felt deliberate. Instead of haphazard encounters, the fights had a rhythm to them, forcing adventurers to pace themselves rather than rushing headfirst.

  Lena cut down a scavenger golem with a precise strike, stepping back just as Osric’s arrow shattered another’s core. Derric darted between constructs, exploiting weak points with quick, efficient movements. Renna controlled the field, her concussive magic forcing golems into vulnerable positions where Corwin could intercept.

  They moved as a unit, adapting quickly. The first floor, despite its refinements, wasn’t designed to stop them—it was meant to test their cohesion. And they passed.

  The real challenge awaited below.

  The descent into the second floor was immediate. The moment they stepped onto the next level, the atmosphere shifted.

  Gone was the structured battlefield of the first floor. Here, the dungeon breathed. Walls subtly adjusted as they walked, and corridors led into branching paths that twisted in unpredictable ways.

  Derric clicked his tongue. “Yeah… this is different.”

  Osric knelt, inspecting the stone beneath them. “Some of these pathways… they’ve been designed to shift. The dungeon’s not just static anymore.”

  Renna extended a hand, sensing the mana in the air. “It’s not just shifting. It’s controlling the flow of energy. My magic feels slightly… dampened.”

  Lena grinned. “So it’s playing fair. We get tired, and it keeps going.”

  Corwin exhaled, raising his shield. “Then we don’t waste energy. We pace ourselves.”

  Their first encounter came swiftly.

  Their first encounter came swiftly.

  The construct that emerged from the shifting corridor was unlike anything they had seen on the first floor. It stood hunched, its frame covered in mechanical plating, multiple arms extending from its back, each one fitted with intricate tools and manipulators. Its eyes—small, glowing slits—flickered with an eerie intelligence.

  Derric stopped mid-step, instinctively tightening his grip on his daggers. “That’s not a combat unit.”

  Renna narrowed her eyes. “No… it’s something else.”

  The Engineer Golem moved with unnatural precision, its limbs shifting as it rapidly began altering the environment itself. Segments of the floor clicked apart, revealing hidden mechanisms beneath. Traps that had been concealed within the dungeon’s structure came to life—a line of embedded spikes emerged from the walls, and the lighting subtly adjusted, casting deeper shadows in key areas.

  Lena took an instinctive step forward, sword at the ready. “It’s reinforcing the dungeon—while we’re still in it?”

  Osric loosed an arrow. It struck the Engineer’s arm, but instead of staggering, the golem reacted instantly, its limbs folding inward as its armor reinforced itself, the impact barely leaving a dent. A second later, one of its spare arms snapped forward, latching onto a nearby ruined scavenger golem— and in moments, the broken machine began moving again.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Corwin’s breath slowed. “It’s… repairing them.”

  Before they could react, a familiar clattering echoed through the hall. The fallen scavenger golem, which they had destroyed moments ago, reassembled itself—its shattered eye flickered back to life, and it lunged forward without hesitation.

  Renna muttered a curse. “We need to destroy that thing first.”

  Lena was already moving. She dashed in, sword flashing toward the Engineer’s core—only for another sound to cut through the air. Heavy, calculated footfalls.

  A Combat Golem dropped from an overhead compartment. Unlike the scavengers or the Sentinels, this one was designed purely for destruction.

  It was quadrupedal, moving with a smooth, predatory gait. Bladed limbs dug into the stone as it landed, its glowing optics snapping to the group with immediate intent. Its sleek, reinforced plating shimmered faintly with defensive runes, and unlike the crude strikes of scavenger models, this one carried a purpose-built arsenal.

  Derric barely had time to react before it charged.

  Corwin intercepted, bracing himself—his shield absorbed the first impact, but the golem’s sheer momentum forced him back a step. A follow-up strike came instantly—a sharpened limb clawing toward his exposed side—but Osric’s arrow caught the golem’s leg joint, forcing a stagger.

  Lena seized the opening, her blade flashing toward the Combat Golem’s core. The attack landed—but instead of piercing through, the plating twisted, dampening the blow.

  Her eyes widened. “It’s not just armored—it’s adapting to impact.”

  The Engineer Golem, meanwhile, continued its work. More scavengers were already stirring, their damaged frames reassembling as if time itself had been reversed.

  Renna let out a sharp breath. “Then we stop playing nice.”

  She raised her staff, focusing her mana—a concussive wave tore through the hall, slamming into the Engineer Golem. Unlike its combat-ready counterpart, this one wasn’t built for direct confrontation. It staggered, its limbs convulsing under the force of the spell.

  But as it reeled, the Combat Golem reacted instantly—launching itself into the air, twisting mid-flight as its claws latched onto the ceiling. **A burst of mana surged through its core—**and before they could blink, it launched downward, an attack aimed straight for Renna.

  Corwin moved on instinct.

  He slammed his shield upward, catching the attack mid-air. The impact sent a deep shockwave through his bones, but he didn’t let it falter him. He pushed, using his own strength against the golem’s weight, sending it skidding back.

  Derric took advantage of the brief opening, darting beneath the construct—his daggers found a seam, sinking into a joint with precise, practiced force. The golem jerked, something in its movement faltering.

  Lena didn’t hesitate. She moved with perfect timing, pivoting with a fierce, decisive slash. This time, the Combat Golem’s weakened plating gave way.

  The construct shuddered—its mana core flickered once—then collapsed.

  Corwin exhaled. “One down.”

  But the Engineer Golem was already withdrawing, its remaining arms finishing one last sequence of repairs. More scavengers stirred—and then, as if sensing its own vulnerability, the Engineer activated something else.

  The air shifted.

  The walls around them groaned, and before any of them could react—the entire section of the floor beneath them gave way.

  ____

  The drop wasn’t long, but it felt like it. Stone gave way beneath their feet, and the group tumbled into darkness.

  Corwin hit the ground first, rolling with the impact to absorb the force. Lena landed in a crouch beside him, followed swiftly by Derric and Osric, both managing to recover with minimal damage. Renna was the last, her fall softened by a hastily conjured barrier, though she still let out a sharp breath as she hit the cold stone.

  A few seconds of tense silence passed before Derric let out a dry chuckle. “I hate this place.”

  Renna groaned, pushing herself up. “That makes two of us.”

  Osric scanned their surroundings. “Where… are we?”

  The chamber they had fallen into was unlike the previous corridors. The walls were smoother, almost polished, the stonework unnaturally precise. Faint blue lines of energy pulsed along the edges of the room, following the contours of the structure in intricate patterns. The only source of light came from these veins of mana, casting eerie shadows across the vast underground space.

  Lena turned, glancing back up at the hole they had fallen through. The floor above had sealed itself. There was no climbing back up.

  “That’s not good,” she muttered.

  Corwin adjusted his grip on his shield. “Then we move forward.”

  Something moved.

  A mechanical hiss echoed through the chamber, followed by the slow, deliberate sound of metal shifting against stone. The group tensed, weapons raised, as a figure stepped forward from the darkness.

  It was humanoid—taller than any construct they had seen so far. Its frame was sleek yet reinforced, a perfect balance of power and precision. Unlike the crude scavengers or the quadrupedal combat units, this one stood upright, its posture unnervingly human-like.

  Its head turned toward them, smooth and featureless save for two piercing, glowing eyes. Its hands were fully articulated, each metal digit flexing with a deliberate, calculated motion.

  Osric whispered, “That’s… different.”

  Then the Sentinel Mark I moved.

  The motion was flawless—not the stuttering, mechanical gait of lesser constructs, but a fluid, almost practiced stride. There was no wasted movement, no hesitation. It closed the distance in an instant.

  Corwin barely raised his shield in time.

  The impact rattled his bones. The force behind the strike was nothing like the scavengers’ or even the Combat Striders’. The Sentinel hit with the weight of something that understood how to kill.

  Lena moved on instinct, her sword arcing toward the construct’s side—but before her blade could land, the Sentinel twisted, its body adjusting in real-time. It dodged.

  Lena’s eyes widened. “No way—”

  Then it retaliated.

  A backhand strike sent her skidding across the chamber floor. She caught herself just before crashing into a wall, breath coming fast.

  Derric took the chance to strike from behind, daggers flashing. He aimed for the joints, where he had found success against other constructs—

  —but the Sentinel’s arm snapped back, catching his wrist mid-strike.

  Derric barely had time to react before it yanked him forward. The movement was brutally efficient, sending him crashing onto the stone.

  Renna’s magic flared—concussive force lashed out, slamming into the Sentinel’s side.

  This time, it staggered. Not much, but enough.

  Corwin pushed forward. He swung his shield in a wide arc, aiming to drive the construct back while Lena surged in from the other side.

  For the first time, the Sentinel didn’t dodge.

  It tanked the hit.

  The impact rang out through the chamber, but the Sentinel absorbed the force, its frame adjusting to distribute the shock.

  Then it pivoted on its heel, shifting from defensive evasion to full assault.

  Its hand opened. A mechanism within its palm whirred to life—and a blade snapped into place, extending from its wrist in a single, fluid motion.

  Osric’s breath hitched. “It has a weapon.”

  Lena barely managed to deflect the first slash. The Sentinel’s blade was impossibly sharp, cutting through the air with terrifying precision.

  This wasn’t just another golem.

  This was something else entirely.

  Derric groaned, picking himself up. “I really, really hate this place.”

  Renna gritted her teeth. “We need a new plan.”

  Osric didn’t respond immediately. He was watching. Analyzing.

  The Sentinel wasn’t mindless. It reacted, adapted—it fought with calculated purpose.

  Which meant it had patterns.

  And patterns could be broken.

  Osric exhaled. “I have an idea.”

  Corwin steadied himself. “Then say it fast.”

  Osric nocked an arrow. “It’s learning from direct combat. Adapting. But there’s something it hasn’t accounted for.”

  Lena wiped blood from her lip. “And that is?”

  Osric smirked.

  “Me.”

  He loosed the arrow—but not at the Sentinel.

  Instead, he aimed at the ceiling.

  The impact struck one of the mana veins, disrupting the flow of energy. The chamber shuddered.

  And for the first time—the Sentinel hesitated.

  That was all they needed.

  Lena moved first, her blade flashing in a vicious arc. The Sentinel raised its arm to parry—just as Derric struck from the other side, daggers burying into the joint.

  Renna followed through, magic surging as she amplified the disruption in the mana lines.

  The Sentinel jerked, momentarily destabilized.

  And Corwin—seeing the opening—drove his shield forward with everything he had.

  The Sentinel staggered.

  Osric’s second arrow found its core.

  A final tremor ran through its frame—its eyes flickered—

  And the Sentinel collapsed.

  For a long moment, no one moved.

  Then Lena let out a breathless laugh. “Holy shit.”

  Derric groaned. “If I never fight one of those again, it’ll be too soon.”

  Osric lowered his bow. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

  Renna pressed a hand to her temple. “The dungeon’s changing. Fast.”

  Corwin looked down at the fallen Sentinel, its intricate design, its almost-human form.

  He exhaled.

  “…And so are we.”