A few minutes had already passed since that ambush the Dungeon had set up for Luki.
At the moment, he was leaning against a wall, his backpack open in front of him, the small medical kit scattered across the damp floor. He folded a bandage with fingers still stained with blood, trying to keep his breathing steady while cleaning the deep scratches on his face.
The cuts left by the second goblin's claws still burned. Thin red lines ran down to his jaw, pooling at his chin before dripping onto the stone floor.
For a second, he even thought about using one of his potions. But he quickly gave up on the idea.
They were just scratches. Painful? Yes, but far from life-threatening.
The three potions he carried were far too valuable to waste on such superficial wounds. Expensive, hard to find, and much more useful when things truly spiraled out of control.
He let out a low groan as he applied alcohol. The liquid met his wounds as if seeking revenge.
— Tch... — the sound escaped through clenched teeth, his eyes shutting reflexively. The strong stench of alcohol mixed with the smell of dried blood and the Dungeon's grime, creating a bittersweet haze in the air.
After a few minutes, he finished the dressing with a wide bandage wrapped diagonally across his face, from the right side of his forehead down to the left cheek. The white cloth already showed crimson stains in some spots and pressed lightly against his battered skin. A second piece of gauze covered the deepest gash just below his eye, clumsily held in place with crooked tape.His hair, still sweaty and messy from the fight, clung to his temples, and some strands had hardened with dried blood.
It didn't look pretty. Nor was it comfortable. But he was alive and for now that was enough.
As for the bruises at the back of his head... well, there wasn't much he could do except hope they wouldn't make him dizzy later. He still felt a dull ache there, a throbbing that grew sharper every time he bent forward.
— Tomorrow this headache is going to remind me of every damn second... — he muttered, finishing the last knot on the bandage.
He sighed.
It hadn't been the worst battle, not the most brutal either, but something about it unsettled him. The strength, the cunning, the surprise. It had all been too intense, too fast.
Luki rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment.
— I think this is the first time I've been hurt like this.
Even when Luki made that stupid mistake on his last incursion the week before, he hadn't been injured like this. Back then, the blows had been scattered across his body, shallower. With natural Resistance, food, and a good night's sleep, he would have been as good as new by the next day.
But now, even with the wounds concentrated on his head, mainly his face, the depth was greater. That meant...
— I just hope it doesn't leave a scar — he said, running his fingers softly over the fabric covering the wound.
Thinking of the pain, his mind inevitably returned to its cause, and everything that had happened before and after.
Luki turned his head and stared at the three goblin corpses sprawled across the floor. He frowned and studied the corridor.
His eyes landed on two distinct points.
On the ceiling, much higher than he remembered from last week, there was a fissure visibly closing. And, just a few meters behind the zone of conflict, another fresher crack was opening in the floor: the exact two spots where the last goblins had appeared.
— There really wasn't any sound. Not once, but twice. That's no coincidence. Sound was my main warning for this kind of thing.
He sighed in frustration.
— Now I'll have to pay twice the attention to not get caught off guard again. Fucking Dungeon.
His tense expression slowly faded, replaced by a curious, almost childlike gleam in his eyes.
— Come to think of it... that's pretty ingenious. The Dungeon's mechanics had pretty much all been figured out. Nothing new, no secrets left.
He shifted against the wall, his words flowing like an inner speech turned into a monologue.
— That's why rookie adventurers from big Families die far less. They have access to information, tips, strategies... Even if a veteran says little, it's enough to save lives.
His gaze wandered through the shadows of the corridor as he continued, almost without pausing for breath:
— If the Dungeon just made the monsters stronger, the adventurer's community would adapt. Groups would hunt on higher floors, gain more XP, and that's it. Time and resources saved.
— But no. A silent spawn? That changes everything. Anyone can get ambushed. The death rate's going to skyrocket. On every floor. And the Dungeon only stands to gain.
— And there was another trick: the corridors are wider. More room for more people, more groups. Looks safer... but it isn't.
— Because the more people, the smaller the cut of loot. Greed rises. Infighting breaks out. Teamwork goes to hell.
— Then, when everyone's distracted, fighting, or too relaxed... bam! Goblins from above. Bam! More goblins from behind.
He gestured with his hands, carried away by his own reasoning.
— And who's going to care? The Dungeon doesn't answer to anyone. Adventurers die all the time in Orario. One less group? Less competition.
— The cycle repeats. Number of adventurers goes up, death rate rises even higher. In the end, the Dungeon wins.
— Very clever. Very clever indeed. Whoever came up with this deserves a prize... Wait.
He froze.
— They say the Dungeon is almost alive. What if it really is conscious?
A shiver ran down his spine.
— If gods exist, why not a living and rational Dungeon? Maybe that earthquake was it evolving. The Dungeon as growing, and Orario, sitting on top of it all, only got the leftovers.
He mumbled, tilting his head slightly:
— If that's the case... Congratulations, Dungeon. You're a genius.
TAC!
A rock fell right in front of him. Onion-sized. Dust rose, startling Luki.
But he didn't move. Didn't even reach for his sword.
He was alert. Fully.
When the dust settled, he saw something drawn on the rock. Facing him directly, as if it were a message.
An... emote?
Two eyes, one open and the other winking. A smiling mouth. A silly tongue sticking out.
It was as if the rock had just winked at him.
Or rather, as if the Dungeon had just replied to his praise.
...
— Holy shit... — he muttered, face blank, tone completely flat.
...
Ignoring what had just happened entirely.
Luki stayed there for a few more minutes, breathing deeply and letting his body rest. The ache at the back of his head throbbed faintly, and the bandage on his face had started to itch. Nothing new.
When he felt stable enough, he stood, grabbed his sword, and approached the goblin corpses.
Something he had noticed before the fight caught his attention again.
For some reason, the monsters hadn't dissolved into particles of light as usual. They were still there, lifeless, rotting with all dignity, or as close to it as a goblin could get. But there was something even stranger.
The first goblin's body was partially sunk into the floor, as if the Dungeon itself was trying to swallow it back. The stone around it looked... soft?
— Trying to pull back the investment, huh? — he said, before composing himself again. — Not today!
For a moment, Luki almost lost himself in this new mystery, on the verge of launching into another internal monologue without realizing it, a habit he still didn't know he had. But he held back. There was work to do.
With his sword in hand, he began dissecting the corpses as efficiently as possible, trying to extract the mana shards. The blade was far too long for this sort of task, which made him realize firsthand why people in games and movies always used small knives.
— Uhm...
Luki stared at the three mana crystals in his hand. They shone brighter than usual, and that wasn't all.
He picked one up between thumb and forefinger, narrowing his eyes at it suspiciously, as if it owed him money.
— This is definitely bigger than it should be.
It was common knowledge that larger crystals came from stronger monsters, the goblins on the fifth floor, for example, were a quarter larger than those on the first.
And although he had never gone beyond the fifth, he could imagine what to expect from the lower floors.
But this fragment was far too big. Considerably larger than it should have been based on its strength, even compared to what you'd expect from a tenth-floor monster.
— I have a strong suspicion that the goblin's abnormal intelligence influenced this too. Raw power must only be part of the equation.
A greedier thought crossed his mind, and a comically satisfied grin spread across his face.
— Hehehe... this should fetch a good price — he said, before carefully storing the crystals in the leather pouch strapped to his waist.
Since the bodies were still there and the Dungeon wasn't in a hurry to swallow them, Luki figured there was no harm in making the most of the moment. After all, how often do you get the chance to loot a goblin at leisure?
Well, maybe in this world, never. Until now, monsters had always disintegrated. But who cared?
Since space was limited and he outright refused to dirty his backpack with monster parts, Luki was selective. He only took what was most valuable:
Sharp teeth, claws... and, of course, the most traditional item of all.
— Ears! — he exclaimed, almost as if presenting a prize on a game show.
Goblin Ears, a sacred item among adventurers. More valuable than any fairytale ore. A proof of triumph, almost a graduation trophy from the ordinary world to the extraordinary.
'I swear on my life, if these things didn't probably rot, I'd have framed my first goblin ear to show my kids in the future.' he thought, almost tearing up at the idea of not being able to keep such a treasure.
In the end, he looked at the goblin remains, now mutilated, and let out a soft whistle, as if to say: "deal closed."
— If every ambush pays off like this, keep trying, Dungeon. Just don't wink at me again, or my heart won't take it. — he murmured with a half-smile.