Chapter 67 Dungeon Master (Part ②)
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
”Um, well, that was…” Faris stammers, realizing their slip-up. They try to cover it, but Kanata pretends not to notice and keeps asking questions.
”So, what’re you doing in a place like this?” Kanata asks.
”You’re asking that?” Faris says, their tone lightening with relief as the topic shifts. “It’s a long story… wanna hear it?”
”Nope,” Kanata replies bluntly.
”No, wait, I’m kidding!” Faris cries, fake tears in their voice. “Please listen, I’ll explain properly!”
Kanata’s cold response shuts down Faris’s playful attitude, and they start talking, still sniffling.
”In short, I manage the Dungeon. But…”
According to Faris, they’re one of a dozen Artificial Dungeon Cores created by brilliant researchers from an ancient civilization. These researchers poured all their knowledge into a massive project called Artificial Dungeon Creation.
The catch? Luck played a huge role in making these cores. Over 300 years, they only managed a handful of successes, showing how reckless the project was.
”That project must’ve cost a fortune, huh?” Kanata says.
”Yeah,” Faris replies. “Records say it ate up a third of the national budget every year.”
”A third?” Kanata says, frowning. “Wouldn’t that money be better spent elsewhere?”
One core every 20 or 30 years, maybe? Kanata thinks. That’s absurd for such a gamble.
”Most people would think so,” Faris says. “But, Master, you don’t know much about Dungeon Cores, do you?”
”Not really,” Kanata admits. “Just that you use DP to make stuff.”
”That’s the gist of it,” Faris says, their voice distant, like they’re staring into the past. “Dungeon Cores exist to purify and cycle miasma [T/N: Corrupted energy] from miasma pools. But, honestly, we can’t exist without miasma. So, it’s like a survival instinct—we gather it.”
To collect miasma, cores create “bait” to lure prey. This bait includes artifacts—items even the ancient civilization’s knowledge couldn’t replicate—along with high-quality materials, potions, and ores.
Back then, people hunted Dungeons for these resources, which supported their entire civilization. But natural Dungeons were rare, and their resources took time to regenerate as DP built up.
As demand for resources grew, natural Dungeons couldn’t keep up. That’s where Project Dungeon Core came in.
If we can’t find Dungeons, why not make them? That simple, foolish idea sparked the project. If they could control Dungeon Cores, they could skip creating useless things like monsters and use limited miasma to produce only needed resources. It was a selfish dream, but it gained enough support to launch.
Normally, such a ridiculous project would’ve died out in a few years. But five years in, by sheer luck, they created the first Artificial Dungeon Core. It underperformed, but it was enough to fuel hope—and budgets flowed like water.
Of course, replicating that fluke wasn’t easy. For 50 years, they got nothing. Just as people gave up, thinking it was a one-off, a second core appeared, reviving the project. Every few decades, when the project faced cancellation, another core would emerge, like clockwork.
”When I was created, the civilization was already crumbling,” Faris says. “It collapsed soon after, so I only know the past from records.”
Faris guesses the civilization fell because of a massive rebellion by the artificial cores.
”They didn’t mean for us to have intelligence,” Faris explains. “Who wants a rebellious core, right?”
”Yeah, makes sense,” Kanata says, nodding.
A machine that thinks and acts on its own sounds convenient, but only if it obeys completely.
If it gains intelligence and defies orders, it’s useless to the user. That’s why research into “intelligent magic tools” faded, with most destroyed except for a few kept for observation or privately owned.
But somehow, Dungeon Cores, meant to lack intelligence, started gaining it. “How’d that happen?” Kanata asks.
”No idea,” Faris says. “You know that saying, ‘I think, therefore I am’? One day, I just… was aware. Can you pinpoint when you became self-aware, Master?”
”Fair point,” Kanata says, stumped. That’s a rabbit hole for philosophers, he thinks, brushing it off.
”Exactly,” Faris says. “But I’ve got some guesses.”
Faris explains that originally, Dungeon Cores and Dungeon Masters were a pair. The Creation Lord assigned Dungeon Masters—homunculi—to communicate with the cores.
But budget cuts made creating both too costly, so they revisited giving cores intelligence. By then, intelligent magic tools were becoming banned, so the research went underground.
”Researchers are weirdos,” Faris says. “Tell them not to do something, and they do it anyway.”
They suspect this secret research got baked into the cores. “In my case, I went into hibernation right after becoming self-aware,” Faris says.
By then, the artificial cores’ rebellion was in full swing. Feeling treated like slaves, the sentient cores sought freedom, spawning Magical Beasts as their hands and feet to fight the ancient civilization.
Dependent on artificial Dungeons for resources, the civilization had no defense. Within years, resources dried up, and it collapsed.
But the cores miscalculated. By destroying the civilization, they created a world overrun by Magical Beasts, which consumed miasma just by existing.
Dungeon Cores collect miasma by recovering the miasma released when Magical Beasts fight or by absorbing defeated beasts. But when the civilization collapsed, no one was left to defeat the beasts.
Magical Beasts sometimes fight over territory, but weaker ones can’t beat stronger ones and get hunted easily. This made miasma collection inefficient, and the cores quickly ran out of energy as the stored miasma drained.
To survive, intelligent Dungeon Cores put themselves into sleep mode, cutting miasma use to the bare minimum.
Faris, sensing a survival crisis right after gaining awareness, followed the stored data and entered sleep mode too. They only woke up recently when they detected a large movement of miasma.
After waking, Faris focused on understanding the situation.
The miasma surge came from a new Dungeon forming where none should exist, causing the miasma in their own Dungeon to stir. Beyond that, Faris knew nothing—except that they sensed an intelligent being in the Dungeon and waited for contact.
”So, you woke up because the Winged Dungeon formed, and its miasma flowed into mine?” Kanata says.
”Exactly!” Faris replies. “I’m starving for info, and you need my help, Master. It’s a win-win, right?”
”Don’t need you,” Kanata says flatly.
”Liar!” Faris cries. “You can’t get out of here without me! Is that okay with you?”
This thing’s annoying, Kanata thinks. He grabs his sword, ready to snap it, but Faris immediately starts whining.
”Sorry, sorry!” Faris pleads. “I got carried away! Forgive me! I’m the loyal type, Master—I’ll do anything you want!”
The sight of a sword groveling is so absurd that Kanata’s irritation fades. Anything, huh? His mind wanders to pinning down a girl he likes.
It’s been three days since the Winged incident, and a whole week since I’ve touched a real girl. I’m pent up.
”Fine,” Kanata says, shaking off the thought. “Can we actually get out of here?”
”Nope,” Faris says.
Kanata silently grabs the sword and slams it toward the ground.
”Wait, wait!” Faris shrieks. “Hear me out first!”
Kanata stops just before impact.
”You’re too impatient, Master,” Faris teases. “Being quick isn’t always good, you know♪”
”Hmph!” Kanata grunts, slamming the sword into the ground.
”Ha… ha… I’m… gonna break…” Faris gasps, still sounding lively despite the pounding.
Still has energy? Kanata thinks. “Maybe I’ll just leave you here.”
”No way!” Faris wails. “I’ll scream that you toyed with me and ditched me! You okay with that?”
What a pain of a sword, Kanata thinks, giving up.
He’s tired of slamming it anyway. The ancient civilization’s craftsmanship holds strong—not a scratch on the sword, though the supposedly tough ground is cratered.
”So, how do we escape?” Kanata asks. He’d learned earlier that the corridor he entered through is now sealed, cutting off his way back.
”Take me to my main body,” Faris says. “On the lowest floor, in the master room, we can rebuild the Dungeon’s structure to open an exit to the surface. Plus, if you register as my Master, we can link your Dungeon to mine.”
”Sounds like a hassle,” Kanata says, thinking about his food supply. Only a week’s worth left. Can I make it? “How far down is the lowest floor?”
”You’re on the second floor now,” Faris says. “Three more to go.”
Faris projects a map of the Dungeon into the air. Kanata stares, shocked.
”You can do that? This place is huge!”
The map shows the Winged labyrinth as the first floor, the altar area where they are as the second, but the second floor is twice the size of the first. The third floor is as big as the first and second combined, and the fourth is four times larger.
”I’ll run out of food before I reach the lowest floor,” Kanata mutters.
”No worries!” Faris says cheerfully. “With me, you can go straight to the lowest floor.”
Faris explains that stabbing the sword into the altar will open a direct path. “I’ve got a lot to say about that, but for now, one question,” Kanata says.
”What’s that?” Faris asks.
”Who named you Faris? You said you woke up by chance and went into sleep mode right after, right?”
”That’s so unimportant right now,” Faris says, exasperated.
”It bugs me, okay?” Kanata insists.
”Ugh, with everything going on…” Faris sighs. “My name comes from my sword’s ID: Fifth Ability Reactive Intelligence Sword—Faris. If you want, Master, you can give me a new name.”
”Nah, Faris is fine,” Kanata says. My naming sense isn’t great anyway.
”Here’s where I stab you, right?” Kanata says, eyeing the altar’s slot.
”Yes, but—too fast!” Faris yelps as Kanata jams the sword in.
The altar glows, a magic circle forms at Kanata’s feet, and light engulfs him.
In a flash, he’s in a new chamber. The altar is gone, and Faris is stuck in the ground.
Kanata looks ahead. A massive altar looms, and… “Is that a dragon?” he mutters, pulling Faris free.
”Technically, a magical weapon modeled after a dragon,” Faris says.
”It’s targeting me, isn’t it?” Kanata says.
”Yup, it’s a guardian [T/N: Dungeon protector], programmed to eliminate intruders,” Faris replies.
”So, I’ve gotta beat it?” Kanata says. “You’re the Dungeon Core—do something!”
”Don’t just demand stuff!” Faris snaps. “You didn’t let me finish talking, Master! I had a peaceful plan, but nooo, you rushed in! Take responsibility!”
”Whoa,” Kanata says, caught off guard by Faris’s outburst.
”Listen,” Faris says. “When the guardian’s durability or miasma drops below 50%, it switches to full defense mode until it recovers. That’s your chance to reach the altar. Stab me into the slot there, and I’ll handle the rest.”
Kanata nods, but he knows it won’t be easy. “Guess I’ve got no choice,” he says, gripping Faris and charging toward the dragon-like weapon.
”No way, no way, no way!” Kanata yells, retreating to the chamber’s edge.
”You’re kinda pathetic, Master,” Faris teases.
Faris lets out an exasperated sigh. “No way you’re giving up already, Master,” they tease.
”It’s impossible!” Kanata snaps. “The only reason I’m still standing is my ability!”
Kanata’s Dungeon Master ability makes him nearly invincible in his own territory. Even in this foreign Dungeon, it offers some protection, letting him withstand the dragon guardian’s attacks. But offensively?
He’s got almost nothing. Defensively, his ability’s decent, but after an hour of fighting the dragon-like creature, neither side can land a decisive blow. They’re stuck in a standstill.
”Can’t you use your power to get to that altar?” Faris asks.
”I’m trying,” Kanata grumbles. It’s over thirty meters away. One step forward, and the dragon’s breath attack would roast him. He’s pinned down.
Faris blocks the dragon’s breath with a Magic Barrier, and when it pauses, Kanata fires a mana bullet. If the dragon flinches, he advances a bit, throws up a barrier, and focuses on recovering. Once he’s ready, Faris shields him again, and he moves forward, repeating the cycle. But now, he’s at the edge of the breath’s range.
Any closer, and the attack’s power spikes. Faris’s barrier might hold briefly, but not until the breath stops. And surviving the dragon’s follow-up attacks? That’s on Kanata alone.
”I don’t have any skills that can hurt this thing,” Kanata mutters, checking his ability list.
His best tool is the thread skill from Kuu-chan [T/N: Nickname for a companion].
It’s enhanced, but weak to fire—terrible against the dragon’s breath. What else do I have? He scans his collected skills, and a few catch his eye.
Maybe… this could work? Kanata thinks, quickly calculating a strategy.
Notes:
• May – Blonde, soft-eyed shrine girl. ch14–15. Gentle and pleading (“Please… just let us go…”), timid but loyal, relies on Mina’s strength. Came with Mina to save Sara, but was disarmed and bound by Kanata as his captive maid.
• Kuu-chan – Arachne Queen who ruled her own dungeon until Kanata named her, forming a binding contract that shifted her loyalty and dungeon rights to him. Reminder: the dungeon master who became his by name.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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