How to Control Dungeon

One week had passed since Alex's awakening, and the chamber buzzed with a different kind of energy. Gone was the frantic activity of gathering coins; instead, an air of anticipation hung heavy in the air. Alex, seated upon his throne, exuded a newfound power, his eyes gleaming with a focused intensity. Beside him, Frey stood guard, her gaze unwavering as she monitored the console displaying the dungeon's CCTV feed.

The screen flickered, revealing a familiar sight: the entrance to the dungeon. A group of adventurers had gathered, their figures silhouetted against the setting sun. Amelia, stood at the forefront, her fiery red hair a beacon in the fading light. Beside her stood Gregor, his axe glinting in the dying embers of the day. Lyra, her eyes scanning the shadows for any hidden danger. The others, a mix of seasoned veterans and eager newcomers, formed a motley crew, their expressions etched with a mixture of trepidation and determination.

"They finally come..." Alex murmured, a hint of a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

He watched them with a calculating gaze. These were the Elera people, the ones he had sworn to protect and, eventually, rule. He had chosen this moment—their arrival at the dungeon—for his grand entrance. It was a stage, and they were his unwitting audience. He, the Bloodied Adventurer, the newly awakened being, would make his presence known in a bony, rattling way they would never forget.

"Now…" Alex said, his voice rumbling with newfound power, "I want you guys to come to the end of the stage… and witness my action, and make me your god…"

With a flick of his wrist, Alex activated the monster summon program, sending a surge of magical energy through the intricate network of summoning circles embedded throughout the dungeon. In every corner, from the deepest chambers to the hidden passages, the dormant magic stirred.

***

Groan! The unmistakable clatter of bones against stone followed a low groan that reverberated throughout the dungeon.

A skeletal hand emerged from the shadows, then another, and another. A level 1 skeleton emerged, its bony frame barely held together by frayed rags and its empty sockets glowing with a eerie green light.

"Everyone, be careful!" Amelia shouted, her hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of her sword.

The other adventurers, their initial surprise giving way to cautious determination, drew their weapons and formed a defensive line. This was no ordinary dungeon entrance; something was different, something far more ominous.

Amelia, ever the leader, stepped forward, her gaze unwavering. "Don't worry, Alex," she called out, her voice echoing through the passage. "We'll find your body here."

She took the lead, her boots crunching on the dusty floor as she ventured deeper into the dungeon. The rest of the party followed close behind, their faces grim but resolute. They were prepared for danger, for the unknown, but they would not abandon their friend, not without a fight.

The passage stretched before them, a dark and foreboding tunnel leading deeper into the unknown. The flickering torchlight cast long, grotesque shadows on the walls, amplifying the sense of unease that clung to the air. The only sound was the rhythmic crunch of boots on stone and the occasional drip of water from the unseen ceiling.

As they ventured deeper, the skeletal horde grew in number. More and more of the bony creatures emerged from the shadows, their empty sockets fixated on the approaching adventurers. The initial skeleton was quickly dispatched, its brittle bones shattering under the combined might of the party. But it was just the beginning. More skeletons shambled forward, their numbers growing with each passing moment.

The adventurers fought with practiced skill, their blades flashing in the dim light. Amelia, a whirlwind of fiery determination, cut through the skeletal ranks with a ferocity that belied her petite stature. Gregor, his axe a blur of deadly force, smashed bone after bone, his booming voice a rallying cry for his comrades. Lyra, her movements swift and precise, weaved through the skeletal onslaught, her bow finding chinks in their defenses.

Despite their valiant efforts, the sheer number of skeletons threatened to overwhelm them. The passage became a chaotic dance of death, the rhythmic clang of steel against bone a grim symphony of struggle. The air grew thick with the stench of decay and the metallic tang of blood.

Suddenly, a guttural roar echoed through the passage, shaking the very stones beneath their feet. Amelia spun around, her eyes scanning the darkness.

"What happened?" she demanded, her voice tense.

The skeletal horde faltered, their mindless march momentarily disrupted. In their place, a new wave of creatures emerged from the shadows. These were no longer the brittle bones of skeletons, but the wiry, muscular forms of goblins. Their beady eyes gleamed with feral intelligence, and their clawed hands clutching crude weapons.

The change in enemy tactics was immediate. Unlike the slow, lumbering skeletons, the goblins were agile and cunning. They darted in and out of the shadows, their scimitars flashing in the flickering torchlight. Their high-pitched shrieks filled the air, a cacophony of bloodlust and battle cries.

"Wait… it's stage 2!" one of the adventurers behind Amelia exclaimed, his voice tight with tension.

"This stage 2?" another echoed, confusion etched on their faces.

A young woman, clearly the party's mage, stepped forward. "Yes," she explained, her voice laced with concern. "Usually, an A-Class dungeon like this has structured monster waves increasing in difficulty as you progress."

The adventurers, caught off guard by the sudden shift in enemies, scrambled to adjust their formations. Amelia, her eyes narrowed in concentration, barked out orders. "Shields up! Archers, loose!"

Gregor, his axe held high, roared a challenge, "Come on, you green-skinned runts!"

Lyra nocked an arrow, her aim unwavering, "Let's see what you've got!"

The goblins, sensing a momentary vulnerability, charged with a feral screech. Their scimitars flashed in the dim light as they hacked and slashed at the adventurers' defenses. The air filled with the clang of steel—a chaotic symphony of SHING! CLANG! and the desperate cries of both sides.

"AAARGH!" A goblin fell to Amelia's blade, its scimitar clattering harmlessly to the ground.

"YAAAGH!" Gregor met a charging goblin head-on, his axe splitting its skull with a sickening CRACK!

A goblin lunged at a young mage, its scimitar flashing in the flickering torchlight. The mage, barely a man, yelped and stumbled back, his staff clattering to the ground. Before the goblin could strike, a blur of leather and steel intervened. Lyra, the elven archer, materialized beside him, her dagger flashing in a deadly arc. The goblin's surprised shriek was cut short as the blade found its mark, burying itself deep in its chest.

A warrior, his shield emblazoned with the sigil of a griffin, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Gregor, their combined might forming an impenetrable wall of steel. A goblin, emboldened by the sheer number of its kin, charged at him, its scimitar aimed at a gap in his armor. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he deflected the blow, his own sword finding purchase in the goblin's exposed side. A sickening crunch echoed as the blade sliced through flesh and bone.

The passage was a whirlwind of desperate combat. Each clang of metal against flesh was a grim counterpoint to the goblins' guttural battle cries and the adventurers' desperate shouts. Blood splattered on the stone floor, painting a macabre mural of the struggle.

A goblin, its eyes crazed with bloodlust, managed to slip past Amelia's defenses. It lunged, its scimitar aimed for her exposed back. But before it could strike, a crossbow bolt materialized from the shadows, piercing the goblin's throat with a sickening THWIP! The goblin crumpled to the ground, its life extinguished before it even hit the floor.

THWIP! Lyra danced through the chaos, her arrows finding their mark with deadly precision A goblin crumpled, its lifeblood staining the stone floor.

Despite their valiant efforts, the sheer number of goblins threatened to overwhelm them. The passage became a chaotic dance of death, the rhythmic clang of steel against flesh a grim symphony of struggle. The air grew thick with the stench of blood and sweat, the desperate struggle for survival etched on every face.

Beside Amelia, Gregor, a whirlwind of fury, cleaved through the goblin ranks. His battle axe, a blur of deadly steel, found its mark with sickening THWACKS, sending goblin limbs flying and spraying blood across the stone floor. A goblin lunged at him because of his bloodlust, but Gregor met him head-on.

CLANG! His axe slammed into the creature's scimitar, sending it clattering to the ground.

CRACK! He followed through with a brutal headbutt, the sickening echoing through the passage as the goblin crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Lyra, the party's elven ranger, danced through the chaotic fray with the grace of a phantom. Her emerald eyes scanned the battlefield, and her movements were a blur of green and leather. Her bowstring sang with each release, the sharp TWANG followed by the satisfying THWIP of arrows finding their mark. Goblins fell around her, their high-pitched shrieks fading into whimpers as life drained from their bodies.

***

A cold smile played on Alex's lips as he watched the carnage unfold on the CCTV screens. His eyes, glowing with an unnatural light, flickered across the various feeds, tracking the adventurers' desperate struggle. The symphony of battle—the clang of steel, the guttural roars, the desperate cries – filled the control room, a twisted melody to his ears.

Frey, still stood beside him, her gaze fixed on the screens with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Finally, she spoke. "What are you going to do now, Master Acomalaka?"

A low chuckle rumbled from Alex's chest, sending shivers down Frey's spine. "Call me Alex," he said, his voice a chilling rasp.

Frey gulped. "But..."

"They know me as Alex," Alex continued, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. "That's the name they'll remember."

"Did you change your name…?" Frey stammered, the confusion evident in her voice.

"Yeah, kind of," Alex replied, his tone dismissive. "It's just... from now on, call me Alex, okay?"

Frey, still grappling with the revelation, simply nodded, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and fascination.

"Frey..." Alex began, his voice laced with amusement.

"Yes..." she hesitated, unsure if she should address him without the usual title of 'master'. "Alex...?" she finally ventured, the name sounding strange on her tongue.

"Huh... kind of weird hearing you say it without 'master'," Alex chuckled, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"I-if you want so, I'll call you master," Frey stammered, clearly uncomfortable with the informality.

"Well... if there are people around, just don't say 'master'," Alex conceded. "It wouldn't do for them to know the true nature of things."

"Okay..." Frey murmured, still grappling with the revelation of his changed name.

"Can you change?" Alex asked, a glint in his eyes.

"Change?" Frey echoed, unsure what he meant.

"Yeah," Alex elaborated, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I want to make it seem like this dungeon isn't mine. I want you to look like a lost woman..."

Frey, understanding dawning on her face, gave a curt nod. "Understood."

With a determined glint in her eyes, she turned and walked towards a side room, leaving Alex alone with his twisted amusement.

The adventurers finally reached a semblance of respite, and the goblin horde was momentarily subdued. Exhaustion settled upon them like a heavy cloak, the stench of blood and sweat clinging to their clothes. Before them stood a towering wall, its surface etched with cryptic symbols that pulsed with an eerie luminescence. It was clearly a doorway, but one that seemed to demand something more than brute force.

"What is all of this...?" Amelia muttered, her voice heavy with fatigue and the grim reality of the battle they had just endured.

The remaining adventurers gathered around the wall, their faces etched with confusion and a hint of trepidation. The young mage, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of discovery, stepped forward.

"This is a puzzle," she declared, a hint of excitement lacing her voice. "Let's check the goblins we killed earlier. Perhaps there's an item we can combine to unlock this."

A wave of agreement rippled through the group. They turned their attention to the fallen goblins, meticulously searching their mangled bodies for any clues. The task was gruesome, the metallic tang of blood filling their nostrils, but the promise of progress spurred them on.

Gregor, his axe still slick with goblin blood, knelt beside a fallen creature. With a grimace, he ripped the goblin's leather jerkin open, his calloused fingers probing through the exposed chest cavity. His search yielded nothing but a handful of crude coins and a pouch of foul-smelling dried meat. He tossed them aside, moving on to the next body.

Lyra, her movements efficient and precise, kneeled beside another goblin. Her fingers, nimble and sure, darted under the creature's tattered tunic, her keen eyes searching for any hidden pockets or pouches. With a sigh of disappointment, she straightened, finding only a crudely sharpened bone and a handful of jagged teeth.

One by one, they examined the fallen goblins, the grim task revealing nothing but the expected: crude weapons, scraps of scavenged food, and the occasional trinket of dubious value. Discouragement began to creep in, the weight of the puzzle pressing down on them.

Just as despair threatened to consume them, Amelia, her brow furrowed in concentration, stopped beside a particularly large goblin. With a determined glint in her eyes, she plunged her dagger into its chest cavity, the sickening squelch echoing in the silence. Her fingers, slick with blood, explored the creature's insides, her touch was methodical and precise.

Suddenly, her fingers brushed against something hard and metallic. With a triumphant gasp, she pulled out a small, tarnished key, its intricate design unlike anything they had seen before. A spark of hope flickered in their eyes. The young mage, her face alight with excitement, hurried over, examining the key with a practiced eye.

"This might be it," she murmured, her voice filled with cautious optimism. Approaching the wall, she carefully inserted the key into a small, almost imperceptible slot hidden within the intricate carvings. The symbols on the wall flared with renewed intensity as a soft click and a low hum echoed through the passage. With a grinding groan, a section of the wall slid open, revealing a dark passage beyond.

But the movement stopped short. The wall had only opened halfway, leaving a narrow gap that barely allowed them to glimpse the inky blackness within. Confusion washed over the adventurers. They had solved the first part of the puzzle, yet the door remained stubbornly shut.

As they scrutinized the newly revealed section of the wall, a glint of metal caught Lyra's sharp eyes. Nestled within the intricate carvings, near the grinding mechanism of the door, was another keyhole. This one, however, was unlike the one the mage had used. It was a spiral-shaped indentation, its design was unlike anything they had encountered before.

"Guys, look at this," Lyra announced, her voice sharp with discovery.

"What is mean?" asks Gregor.

"It's mean theres another item we can put in here!"

A wave of realization dawned on them. The key they had found was only the first step. This second keyhole hinted at another, potentially hidden key, shaped like a spiral. The disappointing realization that they were still far from gaining full access made their initial victory feel hollow.

Disappointment hung heavy in the air, but the adventurers were a seasoned group. They knew that giving up was not an option. They turned their attention back to the fallen goblins, their eyes scanning for anything that might resemble a spiral-shaped object. Perhaps another key awaited them, hidden amongst the carnage, waiting to be discovered.

Suddenly, the young mage, her eyes widening in comprehension, spoke up. "Wait! This isn't for an item, it's for magic... mana. Someone needs to use their mana to activate it-" She stopped, realizing that she was the only one among them who could wield magic. A sigh escaped her lips. "Fine!"

And then she put her hand in the spiral-shaped keyhole. As the magical energy pulsed through her veins and surged into the intricate mechanism, the wall ground open further, revealing a sight that sent shivers of primal terror down the adventurers' spines. Beyond the narrow gap, their eyes fell upon a colossal figure bathed in the dim light filtering through the passage. It was a Titan, a creature of legend whispered about in hushed tones, a being of immense power and ancient lineage.

A choked gasp escaped Amelia's lips. "What the..." The oppressive silence that had fallen upon the passage caused her voice to falter.

The Titan stood hunched over, its massive form dwarfing the passage. Its skin was a rough, obsidian black, each ripple of its muscles radiating unimaginable strength. Glowing red eyes, burning with an intelligence that was both fascinating and terrifying, scanned the adventurers with chilling curiosity. Its presence filled the air with an oppressive aura, the very ground trembling beneath its immense weight.

The adventurers stood frozen, their initial triumph replaced by a suffocating sense of dread that squeezed the air from their lungs. They had faced goblins, ferocious and numerous, but this was something entirely different. This was a force of nature, a living legend, and it stood between them and their objective.

A cold sweat slicked their skin, their hearts hammering against their ribs like trapped birds. The air grew thick and heavy, with the stench of ancient power clinging to it. Even the seasoned warriors among them, their faces grim and pale, couldn't help but feel the weight of their own mortality pressing down upon them.

Amelia, her voice barely a whisper, broke the stunned silence. "Is that... a Titan race!?"

The young mage, her face etched with a mixture of fear and morbid fascination, could only stare. This was beyond anything they had ever encountered, a challenge that threatened to consume them whole. Yet, even in the face of this overwhelming power, a spark of defiance flickered in their eyes. They were adventurers, and they had faced impossible odds before. This Titan, however, was a test unlike any other, a guardian of untold power standing between them and the secrets that lay beyond. But as they stared up at the colossal being, a single, horrifying question echoed in the minds of every adventurer: could they possibly hope to defeat a Titan?

< Chapter 9 > Fin.