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

by Dakota Krout

“Seriously, though, I have a feeling that things are about to get worse.” Hans made a face. “What tipped you off? The ground shaking or the underground thunder?” “Definitely the ground shaking.” “Cheeky brat.”

“Anyone need a hand?” Tom panted, then chuckled. “I… ha-ha… I got a spare arm now!” There were chuckles all around as people went back to defending. Someone called out, “I wouldn’t use that one; you have no idea where it might have been!” “Looks like we don’t need to give you a hand.” “Seems you have a good handle on things!” “Yikes, this fight is getting out of hand!” Rose shuddered. “You all need to stop.” Her statement was met with laughs. The laughing turned into loud cheering as Tom used the scavenged arm to beat a creature to death while the Dwarves worked to fix the wall and reinforce it.

<…> I sighed, a completely unnecessary noise, as I didn’t breathe.

“Now you are boring again. Oh well. Don’t worry, strange little dungeon. I’ll come back when you start doing interesting things again!” The man turned and ran at the wall. Not the door. The wall. He didn’t slow down, and as he hit the stone, it shattered from the massive pressure he was exuding. He ran in a straight line, destroying my cursed earth as he went. “Stealing my whispers! Dumbass dungeon!” I watched him run, creating a tunnel as he went. He eventually broke out of my labyrinth, reaching unaltered stone. He ran through this even faster, eventually popping out of the side of the mountain and entering free-fall with an echoing shout of “Wheeeeeee!”

Dale had been undergoing a rigorous training regimen designed by himself and a few experts to maximize his survivability as well as shape him into the best possible leader for the small community that had sprung up around the dungeon. He had just been released by his hand-to-hand combat instructor, a Moon Elf assassin who seemed to hold a grudge against all of humanity. This day's lesson was supposed to be about Dale shaping his Essence into usable formations while under attack and emotionally flustered. In reality, the training had consisted of Dale standing on a wriggly log and focusing on his Chi formations… while snowballs laced with stones had been thrown at him by exceedingly strong and accurate women. While he was naked. Dale was not in the most positive of moods right now.

redoubled my digging efforts and poured more earthen Essence into my deepening depression. To clarify, not the mental state. I mean depression as a ‘hole’. Tunnel. No, wait. If it is vertical, it is a shaft. I pumped Essence in an attempt to enlarge my shaft. Um… that still sounds wrong for some reason.

Dale switched his vision to an Essence enhanced version but didn’t detect so much as a ripple in the ambient energy of the world. “OhmygodIhatethis,” he mumble screamed under his breath.

“Must be nice to have permanently activated magical weapons on you all the time. Isn’t that right, Dale?” “Hey, now! Must be nice to use the bathroom without worrying that you are going to blast something back into you, isn’t that right, Rose?” Dale rebutted too loudly. He froze in place. “Not at all based off of actual life experiences, of course.” He grimaced sourly, realizing he had shared way too much. “Sinking your ship to put out a fire! While I would love to hear the origin of this story,”

“Dale, you make striking these Beasts look so easy!” “Helps to have both fists,” Dale muttered offhandedly, fully focused on using the nimble Bashers to train his pugilistic accuracy. He threw a few combination punches that stunned the Beast he was focused on, not bothering to use the Runes on his weapons to finish it off. Rose snorted loudly, attempting not to laugh at the unintentional insult. Tom’s arm was mostly regrown at this point, but he hadn’t had any work done yet to restore anything past his wrist. Tom lifted his handless arm in what was a poor attempt at a rude gesture.

yourself. I now know you have feelings and that loss affects you. Talking to you now… it feels less like talking to a psychopathic individual and more like talking to… I don’t know, a living force of nature?” <That’s a decent description of me. A psychopathic force of nature.>

I was in such a good mood. I’m sure messing with Dale had something to do with my joyful outlook on life too, though. I had been searching for a way to send out creatures that would seek Dani, and an idea had come to me after watching an anthill for a few hours. Bugs! Why did bugs do what they did? Why did they look for certain things or follow the same paths over and over? They were looking for something. In the case of ants, it was a small chemical trail. Others were looking for food, some for mates. I had no idea what wasps were looking for; as far as I could tell, they were just assholes. I liked wasps.

After opening their pens, the swarm of thousands began buzzing into the dungeon, moving toward the exit. They were only trying to get out, but the adventurers seemed to think that they were a new type of threatening Mob. “Oh, God! Flying spiders!” “Look at the size of those claws! Run!” “Ahhhh! They have stingers!” Well. I may have made them a little too versatile… “That one is the size of a dog! How is it able to fly?!” “They aren’t attacking! Just get down, and they ignore you!” Finally, someone noticed! Hmm. Was the size difference really that important? I thought that a larger version of something they saw all the time wouldn’t be too noticeable. Humans are so strange! They scream like children over a few bugs but go running at the Cat Boss—Snowball, a steam variant Beast—looking for a fight? Bizarre, I tell you.

Bob called my attention to a trap he had come up with. He made me promise not to look at it before it was sprung, but I didn’t need to wait long. Some bleary-eyed adventurers were happily approaching a treasure chest, and after thoroughly checking it for traps, they threw the lid open. Boisterously collecting the silver coins and assorted goods inside, they stood straight while chattering amongst themselves. <I’m a bit underwhelmed.> Bob rubbed his hands together. “Shh. Here it comes!” With a scream, a dagger-wielding Goblin was thrown out of the chest; a spring-loaded trap door on the bottom had concealed his hiding place. He impacted the standing human, his weight bringing them both to the ground. The adventurer took a half dozen stabs to the abdomen before the others—who seemed to be in shock—tried to attack the Goblin. Not sticking around to die, the Goblin jumped back into the large chest and slammed the lid shut, slipping into the tunnel underneath and sliding away down an incline. Even if a human found the tunnel under a chest like this, they couldn’t follow. <That… that was amazing!> I started laughing, and so did Bob. The gore covered Goblin entered the room Bob was in a minute later and was awarded a higher quality knife as a reward. “Glad you liked it!” Bob chortled. “I’ve been trying to find a way around their trap detection, but any wires or pressure plates are always detected by professionals.” I was smiling now. <Thanks, Bob! That really broke up the tedium!>

“I don’t wanna fight,” he muttered petulantly. “I like Cats. You know all the different words that have ‘meow’ in them? Meow, meows, meowed, meowing, homeowner. I don’t want to kill Cats right meow.” “You are a total child!”

“We thank you, we truly do, but, those trees…” Bob pointed at a new grove near his home half-hex. “Why are they screaming?” <That’s an insect called a cicada. It lives on the tree; it is not the tree itself. Minya brought me some as a present from the dry lands to the east. I was told people found the sound soothing. Not so much for you?> I explained with a chuckle. Of all inanimate objects I’d found, so far I’d only heard rocks scream. Screaming trees. That’s a good one. “The general consensus here is that they are rather terrifying.” He gave a weak smile. “Would you mind?” The cicadas stopped singing, to both of our surprise. “Thank you, that was fast.” <That wasn’t me. If a predator is nearby, they stop making noise,> I explained as a few humans popped stealthily out of the tree line. <It would seem you have visitors.> The Goblin paused momentarily, mind whirring. “I’ve decided we will live with the noisy bugs.”

“I have a lifetime’s experience handling poisons. A little plant like this isn’t going to be enough to–” Hans yelped as the vines of the plant swung at him. He easily dodged the fibrous assault and glared at the offending, innocent-looking plant. Hans drew and threw a knife, easily cutting down the entire bush with a single attack. The sap that poured out was similar to blood in its consistency, making them question whether this was actually a plant, an animal, or a hybrid of some kind.

<No, no, I already know how to fly. It is just falling with style, after all.

Bob smiled. “Ah, yes. Travel the world, see the sights…” <Absorb objects from faraway lands…> I agreed dreamily. I shook myself, knocking a few unprepared people off their feet.

“Everyone needs tough love sometimes.” He smirked as he leaned on his staff. “Even overpowered rocks, apparently.”

Was it common knowledge that a drop of blood caught in an Essence stream would make an erythrocyte swell to the size of a watermelon? This is what I imagine blood cells in continent-sized monsters would look like. Very squishy. Hmm… I might have to drop one of these on Hans, just to see his reaction.

Heh, that’d be a good trap name. Pitfall? Nah, ‘unexpected hole’!

Even if they stocked them from below, some cultivators were fast. I would become a laughingstock if someone noticed a Goblin’s hand dropping tokens through a hole in the back of a chest.

Unlike the others, he was an intentionally loud cultivator. “Uhhhhhgh. This feels so good. Oh, yeah, fill my affinity channels.” His antics always made Rose scowl and the others laugh.

“He’s still here. Don’t say anything you will regret.” Adam gestured at a corner they were approaching. The Elf reappeared, pointing a dagger-like finger at the cleric. “You will not give away my position in the future, or I will consider you a hindrance to my training methods.” The Elf glowered at Adam before vanishing. “This training is not for you, but I could include you.” “Sorry, Dale. You’re on your own.” Adam grimaced as a chill went down his spine. “It’s too bad. I really liked you.” “Don’t talk about me like I’m already dead. Just get me through the portal,” Dale whispered nervously, eyes darting around. He didn’t know it, but this type of encroaching paranoia was exactly what the Elf wanted to see.

He chuckled and watched the moving water, only to see the waves break against seemingly nothing a few feet from him. Confused for only a moment, his eyes widened, and he gulped. “Uhm. Teacher?” His eyes remained locked on the empty space. His Moon Elf teacher appeared in the large pool of water, a bitter smile on his face. “Pure luck. You brat.” He vanished again, and Dale watched as ripples of water followed an unseen form to the edge of the pool. The door opened and closed by itself. Dale held his bare knees and rocked back and forth while taking deep breaths.

Dale grandly nodded. “Yesh. Any advantage I can geht, I gotta take. You taught me that! They… why do so many people wanna kill me, Hansel bread? Khee-hee, Hansel Bread. Like gingerbread. Thatsh your new nickname.” “No, it isn’t,” Hans gently yet firmly disagreed, seeing the mirth in Tom’s eyes.

If you burn it, the smoke will make them come running. Careful with this.” Tyler handed a few to Hans, much to the horror of his comrades. “You say be careful with it, then hand it to Hans?” Adam spoke in a hushed tone.

Tyler cracked his knuckles. “It pays to have people from such differing backgrounds to work on these. We even have…” He looked around. “Don’t laugh, but we have a scientist.” Hans chortled against instructions, getting a glare for his trouble. “What is a scientist?” Adam asked the question everyone was thinking. Tyler started to reply, but Hans interrupted and took over the explanation, “A scientist is a person who tries to measure the world, saying that there are ‘immutable’ laws that affect everyone equally. Laws that can’t be broken. They try to explain things in terms of the effect they have, how ‘dense’ they are, or anything rather than by the Essences they are composed of.” Tyler rubbed his head. “He has some great ideas though. His work on gravity alone could–” “I’ve heard of that!” Hans interjected. “Yeah, gravity is real, but it isn’t a universal constant!” He picked up a rock, dropping it. It landed on the ground. “Dale, lift that rock with Essence!” Apologetically looking at Tyler, Dale lifted the small stone with a speck of Essence, and it hovered in the air. Hans looked smug. “Oh, look. Something gravity isn’t affecting. Theory disproven.”

‘Yes. I am all laws perfected, and all laws stem from me. Arrogance was a third-tier. Which you silenced, if you recall.’ I smiled. I had it now. <If you are all things, then you are imperfect! Refusing me because I am imperfect is denying yourself!> ‘Even your logic is flawed.’ <Your face is flawed!> I instantly retorted. ‘I don’t…’ I waited a while, but no further response seemed to be forthcoming. An hour passed, and right as I was about to try again, the law finally began to speak, ‘You are not going to go away, are you?’ <I will literally die first,> I agreed, settling in for the long haul.

“Well, you can have it!” Hans grumped, pulling his cloak tighter. “Let’s go somewhere warm! Not even a whole vacation. A day trip! We need a break.” “Thou doth need a break.” Tom released a booming laugh, getting Hans to stick out his tongue at the small giant. “This weather is already a vacation for the Northmen like Dale and myself!” Rose decided to join the conversation, “Dale lived here, way south of the northern kingdom. How is he a Northman? Also, while I hate to agree with Hans, a vacation to somewhere warm sounds nice.” “I can already hear the wedding bells!” Hans exclaimed while dancing in place. Rose closed her eyes. “And that’s why I hate to agree with you.”

“Boo!” Hans barked, almost making Dale wet himself. “Ha ha! Always fun. D-rank six, huh? First time boosting your aura? Feels a lot like letting out a fart after holding it in for a long time, yeah?” Craig slapped Hans to the ground. “Must you always be so crass?” “Uh-huh,” Hans affirmed, hopping to his feet and offering a hand to Dale.

“Well, actually, let me tell you about that…” Hans threw an arm around Craig and started walking away, explaining a few things he had learned recently. Craig stopped moving after a short discussion, turning and trying to chase after Dale. Hans grabbed his robe and held him back. “Let me go! I want him to talk to the dungeon for me!” “Ha! I already tried that!” Hans’ body began shaking from laughing at the struggling monk.

I followed the hole in the floor downward, extending my influence swiftly. I kept going and going. I was amazed by the depth of the hole; that ritual was worth every bit of Essence it drained from me! I finally found the source of the oil, a massive cavern over forty thousand feet below me! That’s twelve kilometers! Seven and a half miles! Why am I converting between Dwarven and human standard measurements? Because I am in shock!

“These are Runes that are forbidden in the cultivation world outside of actual wartime emergencies. If I were to have been found giving these to you, I would be hunted down for treason. As the lowest charge.” <The black market was that good?> I would be dancing if I had feet. A few nearby Bashers were forced to do it for me. They were pretty good, too.

Next, we have a sleep trap, a ‘slow’ trap, and a ‘speed’ trap.” I interrupted her, <Whoa, whoa! Slow down! What do those do? The sleep one is self-explanatory, but…> “The ‘slow’ trap is used to hinder movements. If you have a really fast animal you are after, and it goes through this, it will move like it is stuck in honey. Very slowly,” Minya explained impatiently. “The speed trap is just the opposite. Say you have a large, powerful creature chasing you. If it goes through the trap, its momentum is increased drastically in whatever direction it is moving. Suddenly, the creature sprints headlong into a wall or off a cliff. Useful for that kind of thing.”

I still expected the lever to be pulled, simply as a natural response to, well, a lever existing. Most people will pull an unknown lever or push a random button, just to see what happens.

“Alright, let’s do this.” My voice startled me; I was unused to my words causing vibrations in the air. I was also not used to the feminine vocal cords. “Words! Words. Speaking is fun. Words.” Bob seemed concerned. “Are… you okay?” “Yes. Ye-es. Words are fun to say.” Gah! I bit my tongue! The demon hopped over the wall at that point, a disconcerting smile on its face.

“Pff. Messed up some perfectly good rocks is what you did. Look at them! Have you ever seen rocks with anxiety before?” the Goblin demanded, eyelid twitching.

He shouted at a mountain of flesh that was rolling toward him and removed its kinetic energy, stopping it in place. Frank focused on blocking the motion of the abomination at a deeper level, and the flesh froze solid as the atoms were disallowed movement, the electrons freezing in place.

“Boring, boring, boring!” a voice cackled into the still air. “Killing people sitting on the ground doing nothing would have made for terrible karma.” The question of who the voice belonged to was resolved when a near-nude man stepped out from behind one of the few undamaged buildings. “I show up to try out some legendary Dwarvish bathhouses, and children like that go interrupting my fun!” The greasy old man grouched—now not quite as dirty due to a relaxing bath—and walked over to the dead Mages to retrieve his belonging still embedded in a skull. The others leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the artifact that could go through the skulls of three Mages without issue. “Ew. Now there is brain on my toothbrush.”

“I can see the sins crawling up your… huh?”

Also, you are wrong about one thing… I don't have any goals. They are more like… things I want to do for giggles.”

even tasting a new kind of snow for the first time. It had an odd yellow color, and I couldn’t understand why people talked about catching this on their tongues…

“Well, Sir, it is all because of the song! The ‘Ballad of the Slayer of Shades’ is quite popular around here. We have a bard from the capital that recently came to live here. Everyone can recognize you now!” Kere looked mortified, his face draining of color. “Please… please tell me you are joking.” In response, Dale burst into song, “The man puts up a dome of white, purifies the evil with his holy might. The ladies swoon as Kere stares at the moon…” Kere seemed to deflate, his knees buckling. “No… no!” The S-ranked man was pulling at his hair, almost collapsing to the ground.

Amber was looking at him like he had brain damage. Dale shrugged at her. Maybe he did.

<I call it a Manticore,> I jovially explained. “Why is that?” Bob wondered. <It is a ‘mutated amalgamation of nascent terrifying existences’ with a beastly Core!> I exclaimed proudly. I had been working to improve my naming schema. Bob thought about that for a moment. “Wouldn’t it be a Mant-e-core then?” <Quiet, you,> I grumbled. <Manticore just sounds correct. How about you just open the bag?>

‘Manny the man-eating Manticore’,

“Chests filled with Mithril? Ughh.” The Dwarves at the table shivered slightly and flushed a bit. The ones that were standing moved objects they were holding—not-very-subtly—so they could cover the front of their pants.

Did Dale have a brothel? Did he need one? Was it some kind of soup?

“Come on inside, Dale,” Hans cajoled his friend. “If you stand in the grain, you are going to get all wheat.”