The cliché group was certainly interesting.
At first, I sent a small wave of simple goblins without weapons against them, but they dealt with them easily. Then I sent the second and third waves one after another, which also posed no problem.
The cliché group advanced slowly, encountering enough resistance to challenge them. It also made me realize something—the goblins were weak to cold. Something strange, since my first floor remained in a cool, somewhat cold environment at all times. Definitely something I would have to fix later… and implement on the second and third floors.
After about two hours of combat, the cliché group used some flasks that I deduced were healing and mana recovery potions, judging by how the mage regained more mana than before.
Occasionally, I would drop a sharp rock from the ceiling, keeping them constantly on edge. The lack of large enemy waves made them more cautious.
The goblin waves had slowed down, appearing only from time to time.
Finally, three hours later, after traversing several shifting passages within the labyrinth of tunnels, they reached the boss room—Bastion the Relentless, successor of Ravenous the Voracious.
The battle was surprisingly quick.
In the end, Bastion died.
Since I had prepared for that possibility, I had bought something interesting—something called Water of Vitality. It cost only a few hundred points, and after making a goblin drink it, I noticed its body filled with vitality and greater strength than before.
The cliché group looked at the bowl of golden water and filled several flasks, no doubt intending to study it and determine its components.
When they left my dungeon, the woman in white—whose name was Miri—seemed to be waiting for them. Seeing that no one had died, she relaxed slightly.
---
The next day, another group—different—attacked me.
They also managed to clear the first floor and left with the Vital Water.
As for the first-floor boss, I stopped giving them names. Since they would die continuously, I decided not to name them—or if I did, I would simply assign a numerical designation corresponding to the current boss.
However, the first boss of each main floor would have a name—like Cadmu.
The pattern continued for six days.
Until the seventh day—something changed.
A new caravan arrived, bringing more humans and hunters. The walls were about 72% complete, and simple houses had been built. Among them, a large mansion was under construction for the lord of this land, along with the guild building.
The new group consisted of seven people.
Seven new hunters—with arrogant airs.
Which I did not like.
Apparently, the guild leader didn't like them either, judging by the arrogance they exuded.
The hunters who had previously entered my dungeon did so with caution and respect, so I didn't send too many goblins against them.
But these?
Oh… this was personal.
---
Esthepan sighed in annoyance as the sixth wave of those little green creatures emerged.
As they approached, he and his group launched into attack. He moved alongside three other warriors, while the others extracted magical cores.
After finishing off the last goblin, Esthepan turned toward his sister.
"How are we doing?" he asked.
His sister, Aleya, looked exhausted—she had already spent most of her mana on spells.
"This isn't good. I'm out of mana, and our potion reserves are running low. The cores are small, but the large quantity might cover the cost of the potions we used," Aleya breathed. "We should go back."
"No," Esthepan said.
"We keep going. I heard the guardian has a large fire-attributed core—and that special water sells for a high price in the city!" he declared loudly, greed evident in his tone.
"Who's with me?"
The hunters, exhilarated by their victory over the goblins, shouted eagerly. The other mage—a water mage—drank a mana restoration potion in one gulp and nodded.
"Good! The next cavern should be the last before we reach the guardian. Stay alert," Esthepan ordered, then led the group into the dark, winding passage.
---
After eliminating three more waves of goblins—led by a goblin mage and a larger goblin—they reached the massive doors of the first-floor guardian's chamber.
Esthepan glanced at the engravings on the door and ignored them, pushing it open abruptly.
The room beyond was dark.
As he stepped inside with the group, Esthepan didn't have time to react—
A massive axe slammed into him, cutting from his shoulder down to his stomach.
His last thought was:
What just happened…?
---
After the leader's death, the rest of the group managed to kill the floor boss—though not before it took several hunters down with its flaming body ability.
In the end, of the seven, only three remained.
They took the Vital Water and left—while multiple yellow eyes watched them from the darkness, accompanied by laughter that made their skin crawl.
The three survivors were:
The fire mage, a warrior, and a priest.
The water mage, two warriors, and their leader had died.
Esthepan had been arrogant.
And that led to his death.
Did I feel bad?
Of course not.
After all, I am now a Dungeon Master—managing my own dungeon and defending it from invaders.
Once I processed the memories, I realized that the leader had been the older brother of the fire mage.
I felt a little bad…
Just a little.
In the end, I hoped she would overcome it—and move on with her life.