The Divine Dungeon Complete Series (The Divine Dungeon #1-5)

by Dakota Krout

“Well, little Core with pure Mana.” Barry’s lips were twitching, he was smiling so hard. “Thank you for being the filter that I use to siphon all the power of the multiple races into myself. And… goodbye to all of my faithful followers. Your sacrifice will not be in vain.”

Just like that, my Core shattered, and I died.

I ran, and the blocks started moving faster in response to my own speed. Gah! Why was I so amazing at trap design?

I had a moment of ‘why didn’t I just make a new Core and use it’, but I had to shake that thought off. I knew that the Core below was a perfect replica of myself before my Core was demolished. Anything that I made on the fly would simply be subpar and likely to be destroyed by the forces I would need to bring to bear on it. I couldn't trust my shaky hands and human frailty to design a container for my mind and soul. Too dangerous, and I really wasn't trying to disparage myself.

With the firing of the cannons, all sound stopped, and the world went silent. The blood flowing from my ears told me that it was due to my eardrums bursting, and that by itself let me know that the actual volume must have been on another level. After all, I was still a Mage.

“You’re alive!” I called out. His eyes rested on me, and The Master raised a shaky hand and pointed it at me. “Dale, I swear myself to your service and the rules you have in place.” That was all he could manage before collapsing to the ground. I opened my mouth and said ‘I accept’, but an instant before I did so, Barry’s lips moved. He only said two words, but I felt horror as I realized what the phlegmy sounds were. “Me too.” Chapter Fifty-Two Two swirls of power lifted into the air, and the bodies that had once been renowned and terrifying S-rankers or higher… withered into nothing. All that remained of the two were their souls, minds, and the barest modicum of their power. The two streams vanished upward, and after a moment, Dale felt the portal into his Soul Space widen to the absolute limit and permit these two access.

“Got the Core, got the sacrifices, reached the pinnacle of SSS, wrapped the power source in chains of chaos… I guess we just start!” He lifted me up, positioning the much larger Core on his chest, and began to chant. I didn't feel anything, but I was at least faintly concerned. I was wrapped in chains of chaos? Where had I seen that before…? Rose. She had used that to hold a monster in place. The effect… was… the target couldn't affect anything around them, move, but was still aware. The spell would last for… a chaos determined amount of time. It could be one second. It could be forever.

“This chase has gone on long enough.” Xenocide was standing still, his hand cut off and a sword through his chest. Kere, The Slayer of Shades, stood behind his father. Xenocide smiled, looked down at the sword, and leaned back. “Oh, I have missed this father-son bonding time! Want to go play catch? There’s a giant ball coming at us right now!” Kere lifted his sword, attempting to take the blade up the body and through Xenocide’s skull… and Xenocide didn't bother resisting. As the sword cleaved through his skull, the man simply reformed the damaged areas and calmly turned around. “You know what really hurts me about you stabbing me like this?” “I cannot imagine,” Kere replied, holding his sword aloft. “Being stabbed, you little brat!” Xenocide was suddenly behind Kere and knocked him to the floor with a slap.

“I want you to let me hunt the Wolfmen,” Odin demanded, glaring at Aiden Silverfang, who offered a rude gesture in return. “When I arrived, he was hunting and killing Amazonians! They have all made a commitment to me, to serve as my Valkyries until both our people are restored!”

I cut into the outbreak with a thunderous clap. “So instead of a paradise for all of you, you want to kill each other and hold ancient grudges so that only a few of you survive?” The instant ‘Yes’ still took me by surprise somehow. “Great, well… I guess I’ll split you all up and let you get at it then.”

“Let’s call you ‘Occultatum’, then,” I offered easily. “It means ‘holder of hidden and forbidden knowledge’. Work for you?” “Perfectly,”

The Master/Ramset

Sit on that stool. We’re gonna shave ya.” Ram sat down, nervousness running through him as master Dylan pulled several cleavers from his belt. “Not that thi– I mean to question you, sir, but… are those the, um, best tools for the job?” “Hmph.” Dylan moved close, pulling at Ram’s thin yet shaggy hair. “Haven’t even started working as a novice yet and you are asking questions more befitting a seasoned apprentice. You would typically be correct that a cleaver isn't that great for having a pretty hairstyle, but we are taking it all off… and I am an Expert.”

“I’ve never had to teach down to this level of basics before. Maybe it will be good for me? Make me a better teacher?” She motioned to a chair and sat down on the other side of the small desk. “I’m… sorry,” Ram mumbled. “I’d like to know how to do those things, though.” “Oh, really?” Chandra looked at his serious face. “Interesting. Daddy brought me a butcher boy who actually wants to learn what I have to teach him, not just someone who wants to beat meat all day?” “I really do want to learn,” Ram promised earnestly. “Why don’t you just leave learning to whatever woman decides to keep you?” Chandra prodded with an unfriendly tone. Ram was taken aback. He had heard this statement in various forms his whole life. “I just…” Then he did something he hadn’t since meeting master Dylan. He lied a little. “I only want to know so that I can do whatever job your father wants me to do. He has been so kind. I will do anything to repay him. He asked me to learn.” “That’s… reasonable.”

“The ‘G’ has that little line! Look! If you can’t see a little line, how can you make a precise cut along rib meat worth two silver!”

“I’ll tell you if you keep it between us?” She glanced at him. Ram quickly nodded. “I really like to… cook.” Ram stared at her, exceedingly confused. Women didn’t cook unless they had no other choice. “Don’t stare at me like that!” Chandra demanded heatedly. “I don’t like coming to this smelly building every day. I like things that smell good or are tasty! As a matter of fact, I want to open a restaurant someday.” Ram relaxed a bit. “Oh, well, I see, if you–” “I want to be the cook, too!” Chandra finished triumphantly. Ram nearly choked as he thought about the idea of a woman working to make someone else a meal. Straight. Up. Outlandish.

The room went quiet as Chandra scrunched up her forehead in concentration. Ram sat around, waiting for her to finish. His head started to bob as the work of the day, and the warm fire next to him conspired to push him ever closer toward sleep. He blinked his tired eyes, and for a moment, he thought he saw a green haze moving from the plants into Chandra. “Pretty,” Ram muttered softly. Half-asleep, he looked around and saw multiple colors in the room, including a deep black that was leaking in from the cracks of the doorframe. He frowned, stood up, and weaved on sleep-laden feet toward the enticing darkness. His face moved closer until a wisp of the shadow entered his nose. “Bleh!” He almost gagged as the scent of the butcher shop entered his nostrils. It had been well hidden by the plants, but he had taken a large nose-full somehow. He felt very awake now.

Chandra had said that cultivating made women stronger and smarter. It was well known that a grown man could never defeat a woman in a contest of strength or skill, even though they were so much smaller than their male counterparts. Was this the secret? Cultivation? Ram had to find out!

Master Dylan told us that if we don’t wash them regularly, we will get sick.” Ram scoffed at the old husband’s tale. “That’s just a myth! An extra layer of dirt helps you stay warm.” Chase nodded wisely. “That’s what I said, but he told me that women wash all the time, and we never see them get sick.”

“You the butcher?” “I am. Got some cows for me, then?” Dylan grinned at the slow-speaking farmer. “Nah, these are chickens. Just fed ‘em too much.” Dylan started laughing. “Ah, I walked into that one, didn’t I?

“Why were you so happy to pay that price? That was a lot of silver, wasn’t it?” “Good beef is worth it, and this is great beef. One of the other important things to look for to judge the quality of the meat is to see how willing the owner is to part with it for less than the price they wanted. If they go too low, there are only two reasons. They are a fool, or the meat is not worth the price they asked.

He worked quickly to empty out the individual stalls, then moved on to scraping out the room the pigs were kept in. “Careful, lad.” Ram looked up to see one of the journeyman butchers in the room. “Only go in the empty rooms. Those hogs haven’t eaten in a day, and if you get into the midst of them, they will tear you apart.” Ram looked over the chest-level fencing to see a sounder of hogs silently staring in his direction. He shivered as he realized he had almost opened the gate holding them in.

He got to the edge of the sewer and looked down, noticing that there was a large mass that wasn't moving. Ram grabbed the poop-poking stick and started stabbing down, but on the second poke, the lump spoke. “Stop that!” Chapter Six Ram was pulled off his feet and into the sewer entrance. How? He had no idea. One second he was looking down; the next he was standing in front of a wild-eyed man with white hair. “You? That’s not supposed to happen for hundreds of… oh wait, you’re a child. Is this where we meet? Have we met yet?” “I…!” Ram was floating above the surface of the moving sludge. “I have no idea who you are! Please don’t–” “Blah, blah. Nice to meet you, little Ramset! I’m Egil.” The man stuck out a hand, and Ram took it even though there was literal crap on it. “I’m going to be the one you credit with rescuing you! Oh… look at that empty center. Mmhmm…” “What are you…?” Ram tried to pull away, but moving at all was as difficult as lifting a dozen cows. “I’m going to be running a little experiment on you, Ramset.” Egil smiled brightly, in no way showing bad intent. “I’ve been playing around with Cores, memory stones, and dungeons recently. You’ll make a nice distraction for me while I hang out in the sewer for a while. That silly organization is still trying to capture me, and I can't let that happen for…” The man looked away. “I think it is thirty-two years? Sounds right. Anyhoo,

Minimum threshold of Essence acquired. Initiating ‘Seed’. Corruption purge has begun. Hello, Ramset. Welcome to ‘Cultivation Revamped’. Egil Noslen has created a cultivation method for you specifically, and it is time to begin. First, your meridians will be mapped to the Core fragment in your left eye, and the best methodology for progression will be determined. You are currently in a comatose state as corruption is ripped out of you. There are two rules that you will follow at all times. You will grow as strong as possible in the shortest amount of time. You will never tell another soul about the Core fragment in your eye. If you do, your death will be more painful than anyone else can possibly threaten you with.