Chapter 310

All the Adventurers and the Knights that have come to Ashenmere for the Primordial Dungeon are currently gathered in the main arena of the city. There, at the center, there’s Sir Maximilian, the Knight Commander, in full regalia, with a serious expression on his face.

“We have summoned everyone here after the announcement of two days ago. All the teams have been recalled to the city and the new arrivals have been briefed on all that happened up to now.”

The Knight Commander’s voice is amplified by the transmission system of the arena.

“We have confirmed that not only people can’t go out anymore, but that the total number of people inside the city is not going to change anything toward this. To clarify, we confirmed that despite people dying in the Dungeon in these two days, no one was allowed to come to replace them. It seems that the Dungeon has reached a quota and, from this moment onward, no one will be able to leave until the Dungeon is cleared.”

There are normal Dungeons that work like this out there. It’s not a concept that people have not heard of before. Dungeons with numbers restrictions exist, but… they are usually communicated upfront and cannot change. A Dungeon cannot change, add, or subtract rules after one enters.

“It appears that this Original Primordial Dungeon works much differently from what we knew about Primordial Dungeons. We confirmed the presence of a Nightmare Juggernaut of Apocalypse in the Intermediate Grounds a few days ago.”

The people in the arena look at each other, with only the veterans of other Primordial Dungeons having a strong reaction to that.

“For those who don’t know,” the Knight Commander continues, “a Nightmare Juggernaut of Apocalypse is a late-stage Elite monster that one would expect to find only at the Advanced Grounds, close to the Boss. The fact that we discovered it in the Intermediate Grounds, far from even finding hints of the Advanced Grounds, tells us that in this Primordial Dungeon, there might be even stronger monsters.”

Hearing that, even those who have never waded into a Primordial Dungeon feel a shiver down their spine.

“I will not lie to you — this is a serious threat. There is no way of knowing what is expecting us on the other side. We have never been locked in by a Primordial Dungeon. This is new territory for everybody here.”

“What does the Headmaster say?!” a guy shouts above everybody else, amplifying his voice with Mana.

“We have lost all contact with the outside. The Headmaster seems unable to reach us for now. So, we will have to solve this on our own.”

Hearing that even the Headmaster, a nigh-legendary and omnipotent figure, has been cut off from the Dungeon silences the entire arena.

Even if the Headmaster very rarely interferes directly with Quests, it’s a common practice to send a message to him when a Dungeon poses an unexpected threat. And even if he doesn’t come personally to help in order not to mess with their Karma, he often gives advice and strategies to solve problems.

The fact that this resource has been taken away from them is a hard blow to everyone’s confidence.

“Still, we have enough teams that will allow us to slowly destroy the Dungeon. We’re Knights and Adventurers. This won’t be our end.”

The Knight Commander turns his back to the crowd and walks off the stage, leaving everybody to talk among themselves and slowly exit the arena.

“What a terrible orator,” Delefagus comments, sitting between Jacob and Korrath. “Doesn’t he have some encouraging words? Just we’re Knights and Adventurers ?”

“Not everyone is a born speaker. The progress in the Dungeon has been remarkable given the size,” Korrath says, shifting in the too-small seat and clicking with the back of his tongue.

“Our numbers are fixed,” Jacob says, turning toward Korrath. “We are not getting any reinforcements.”

Delefagus turns toward Jacob and looks at him with a frown.

“The death toll has been remarkably low. It shouldn’t be a problem. Especially with someone flooding the market with invaluable Runic Notations.”

“The coin economy will slowly collapse, Delefagus,” Nimirea says, sitting behind and putting her hands on their seats. “No more coin can be introduced in this system and it’s just a matter of time until the money stops circulating. It won’t take too long until martial law is established and the merchants will be forced to fork over everything they have. Unless you think this is going to be solved in a week.”

Delefagus thinks about it and sighs.

“ Fuck .”

Jacob remains in silence, thinking about all that he knows about the Dungeon.

This was triggered by the Cult of Apocalypse. They chose Ashenmere because… of the Mithril? And it’s also a very densely populated city.

Love this novel? Read it on to ensure the author gets credit.

It makes sense they would choose a place like this one. But then, why would they allow so many Knights to enter before shutting it down, unless they actually think the Dungeon is going to grind us all down.

But Dungeons have a finite number of monsters. How do they expect us to lose if we are just careful? Even with the Juggernauts… now that Sir Maximilian knows about the monsters, he’ll just rearrange the groups to make sure that they’ll be better equipped to take down a very tanky monster…

Jacob scratches his chin.

The war room is quieter than it should be at this hour. Sir Maximilian sits behind his desk, hands folded, watching Jacob the way a man watches a chess piece he has not yet decided how to read. Jacob stands on the other side of the desk, hands clasped loosely behind his back, and watches Sir Maximilian back. Janus, the scribe, sits at his own smaller desk in the corner, quill paused mid-line, doing his best to look like he is not there. Neither man speaks. The candle on Sir Maximilian’s desk gutters once, recovers. Then Jacob clears his throat.

“Team Six?” Sir Maximilian raises an eyebrow.

“Our contribution to Team Five is negligible. I believe that Captain Lagrange might have said something similar in his reports to you, sir. I would like to request autonomy to form our own team.”

After a long staring contest between the two, Sir Maximilian nods curtly.

“We’ll need to clear as many ruins at once as we can. I heard that your team is not that strong and, indeed, is holding back Captain Lagrange. On top of that, I am already taking Captain Lagrange’s best fighters to create another team and assigning him as many newbies as possible to get them up to speed.”

“That’s a smart idea, sir,” Jacob tells the Knight Commander.

For a moment, Sir Maximilian scrunches his face and averts his gaze. Then, he looks back.

“Cloud. Do you have any idea about what’s happening?”

Jacob, stunned at being asked directly by the prideful Knight Commander, slowly shakes his head.

“I don’t, sir. I am as puzzled as you are. The only thing that worries me, though, is where the Cult might be hiding. The monsters are somewhat predictable even in the Primordial Dungeon. But the Cult… Lord Ashenvale’s wife’s involvement worries me.”

Sir Maximilian nods.

“The members of the Cult of Apocalypse are few and elusive. They help spread the Dungeons but rarely stay. But with everything happening here, I don’t put it past them to hide in order to create problems for us.”

Jacob waits for the Knight Commander to say something else, but the man simply falls silent.

“So, I take it that I have now an official team, sir?” Jacob asks, looking back toward the door.

“You do,” Sir Maximilian says.

Jacob is about to leave when the Knight Commander gets up from his desk.

“And Cloud, I know that you’re up to no good.”

“Who, me, sir?” Jacob asks with a smile.

“Cloud,” Sir Maximilian says sternly. “If things turn for the worse and they kill me, you better be strong enough to step up by then.”

The ominous words take Jacob by surprise. But before he can say anything, the man says, “Get out, now. I have work to do.”

“Senior Brother,” Jacob says, hiding in an alcove in the mine, far from the entrance.

A shining, imposing handsome sculpture of a man appears from thin air.

“Junior Brother.”

“How do you locate the mines that Rafnov left behind? I think it’s time we get everything we can out of this Dungeon.”

Delefagus looks at the pickaxe that Jacob put in his hand.

They’re all inside one of the ruins that they already cleared. After Jacob had Team Six created, they re-entered one of the ruins, with him telling them cryptic things about treasure .

“Cloud,” Delefagus says, adjusting his glasses, “I do not share your fetish for mining. And where exactly would you expect us to dig?”

“Below this room, there should be a large ore vein,” Jacob tells them.

Nimirea, observing her own pickaxe curiously, frowns.

“How do you know?”

“I know that we’re all good pals, now,” Jacob smiles. “But I’d rather keep the specifics to myself since—“

“Rafnov’s legacy,” Delefagus says with a smile. “Rafnov’s legacy, isn’t it?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny it,” Jacob says with a smile. “Now, get digging.”

And so, Dark Champions and Champions join their hands in starting to dig into the hard floor of the room Jacob picked.

What Jacob hasn’t told them is that Rafnov left behind several of what he called ‘Compasses,’ later renamed ‘Rafnov’s Compasses.’ A Rafnov’s Compass is just a smooth Mithril marble that acts like a compass able to guide you toward the secret passages through the Intermediate Grounds of a Primordial Dungeon.

And, apparently, not only has Rafnov forced Primordial Dungeons to generate ore, but also to bear treasure in predictable spots. That means that Jacob has a reliable way to find the buried valuables of the place.

Soon, they have excavated almost ten feet of solid rock from the room. It’s so much that everybody looks at the debris piling up in the corridors and, even with their increased stamina and endurance, is starting to sweat.

“Are you sure about this?” Vyrrak asks Jacob. “As in, how sure are you it’s beneath here?”

“One hundred percent sure,” Jacob replies, using his pickaxe, the same one Rafnov gave him.

It takes twenty more feet and half a day until Jacob hits the very bottom of the hole and hears an empty thud on the other side.

“Everybody, stop!”

He calls Nimirea, who’s taking a break, and using Eye of the Prophet, she confirms it.

“It’s hollow underneath. There’s a fifty-foot drop and another room.”

“Kaelrik,” Jacob shouts. “Would you do the honor?”

Everybody turns to the young man who’s already taken out his sword.

“Does he dig with the sword?” Korrath frowns.

“He’s going to ruin the blade that way,” Veyrissa, the Elf, agrees with the sentiment.

Then, Kaelrik quickly slashes four times around the hole where all the team has gathered. For a beat, nothing happens.

“Is that all that you Champions—“ Zorathul, the gold-scaled Dragonkin, starts speaking when the hole suddenly shifts. “What’s happening—“

Before he can continue, a perfectly cut square shifts downward like an elevator. But, unlike an elevator, they freefall for about fifty feet and land in the middle of a room.

No one gets injured and they all land on their feet—which is to be expected at their Level.

Jacob immediately uses the Grimoire and starts looking around. From what Liuthkrav, the Mithril Golem, had said, they should have found an immediate series of chests — which usually only drop from a rare few monsters. And, on top of that, signs of rare, special ores that are incredibly hard to find outside the Dungeon.

But…

“This place seems to be empty,” Delefagus comments nonchalantly. “Is this what you had us come here for… more rooms?”

“Enemies incoming,” Nimirea frowns, turning toward a large corridor.

Where they currently are, unlike the gray and dull rocks of above ground, is a massive series of under-underground rooms and corridors made of reddish, ominous stone.

And, pouring from the two entrances of the room, arrive…

“Eight Archers! Ten Lancers! Sixteen Soldiers!” Nimirea shouts, her eyes widening.

That’s enough to wipe any normal team caught off guard in the blink of an eye.