When the rabbit-kin had entered the dungeon, Nicholas, Fuzem, and Errazorrus simultaneously received a notification.
[Invaders detected! Direct manipulation of dungeon has become unavailable. Manipulation only possible through Avatar and champion monsters.]
It surprised both Nicholas and Errazorrus, as neither had realized they could directly manipulate the dungeon's structure. Fuzem had to remind them that they had already shaped the stone directly using the nexus when they first hid it.
What none were expecting was the later notification after Atu's rooms were constructed by the simultaneous effort of Azotreh and Nicholas.
[Invader has been transitioned to denizen status!]
[For obtaining a denizen through natural means, your dungeon has earned 1,000 DP and DX. Your dungeon has acquired perks: Denizen Comfort I, Denizen Specialization I, Denizen Growth I]
[Denizen Comfort I: By giving denizens a home they consider comfortable, you will earn DP in accordance with comfort. Comfortable denizens will have additional poten growth within your dungeon!]
[Denzien Specialization I: Denizens within your dungeon or the aura of a champion monster always carry an instance of Mighty Body, Mighty Mind, Mighty Soul, and Mighty Core.]
[Denizen Growth I: Denizens within your dungeon progress through the ranks and grades 1% faster. Denizens within your dungeon advance in any general concept based on the root concepts of Mana, Black, Dragon, and Black Dragon 10% faster.]
[You have gained titles: Safe Dungeon I, Dungeon Home.]
[Dungeon titles gained by denizens will also be granted to Dungeon: Azotreh Nightshade]
Yet another aspect of the dungeon Errazorrus had never heard of. The dragon's fragmented memories weren't anywhere near complete, but they still held little to no information on dungeons or their inner workings.
Far away on the central continent, in the small city of Nyunhur, a small light began to flash in the pocket of Jack Crimbrew.
Jack was an outcast of his own volition. The eighth son of the former lord Gary Crimbrew, Jack was more than content with his role as the master of this branch of the guild.
Except for on days like these. His incompetent brother, Harold, was once again contacting him for some reason. How such a moron managed to become branch leader of the Dungeoneers Guild was beyond Jack.
He pulled the small gem from his pocket. The rough texture of his blue coat scratching his fingers in a way he was more than happy with. The wonders of modern technology always surprised Jack, even as he entered his second century.
The sight of his older brother appeared, hovering in the air before Jack. Around the image seemed to be a notification window of the holy system. Yet another great part of joining the guild were the system integrations and privileges he received.
Harold was sweating more than normal. The skinny man, despite being a rank higher than Jack, still managed to carry the utterly mediocre features of his mother. How Jack's father could fall for such a woman, he would never know.
"Brother-"
"What do you want, Harold? I'm busy." Jack said, his tone clipped and eyes slightly narrowed.
"I have received a vision from one of the divin-"
Jack's face contorted in anger for a second. Yet another reason he detested his brother, his failure to see the one true god. No matter the blessings Harold carried from his so-called 'dungeon gods,' there was only one divinity that mattered.
Harold let out a soft groan before continuing, his voice filled with slight pain, "I have received a vision from the black dragon dungeon saint."
"And? You receive visions from the dungeon saints every day, more than a hundred of them. Any dungeon that appears on the continent, you know about. I don't care."
"Wait! This one-" but before Harold could say another word, Jack cut off the connection. Jack wanted to report Harold to his higher-ups for this incident, but Harold wouldn't face any consequences. He was apparently a once-in-a-generation genius when it came to interpreting the wills of the dungeons.
Dungeons were invaluable to the kingdoms of mankind, thus why the true god hadn't wiped them and his idiotic brother from the faces of the world. If any of Purity's faithful heard such open blasphemy for the sole divine, they would have smote the entire Crimbrew bloodline from the central continent.
Jack would have taken it in stride, obviously. He was faithful and would clearly not be struck down like his heathen sibling.
The idea of sharing blood with such a man made him sick.
Harold Crimbrew seethed at the cut-off communication.
Fine. If his brother was too short-sighted to even care about involving the adventurer's guild, then Harold wouldn't invite him. No need to waste time on trying to convince the number two hardass in the kingdom, right?
He had received a vision of a dungeon manifest near where their young nephew was currently exploring. But was not warned to destroy or conquer said dungeon.
Most dungeons across the continent, and across the world, were subjugated for the continued expansion of the civilization that held them. Whether that be the empires and kingdoms of humanity, or the grand warfront of the daemon hordes. There were even rumors that the existential threats to the north often subjugated dungeons rather than destroying them.
Dungeons were parasites, surviving off the deaths of the brave souls who delved them, but were also gold mines, often literally. Dungeons carried renewable resources rarely found elsewhere. If the parasite gives its returns, it's no parasite, but a symbiont. At least, that's what the higher-ups in the dungeoneers guild told Harold.
What was important was that dungeons had to be explored, cleared, and then stripped of their resources. Truly valuable ones had to have someone within for 23 flips at a time. Strangely, after 24, the dungeon would simply vanish with the human inside.
Dungeons manifest were different, since they couldn't close the portal to their realm. They had no such portal, only having natural entrances through stone or another surface. They were real goldmines, or real dangers.
However, the vision he'd received from the divine lord black dragon had been clear: a possible alliance rather than subjugation or destruction. It had apparently appeared under the strangest circumstances and was already allowing invaders to stay within.
The vision did show some violence towards humans, but the location of the dungeon alone would probably be a great indicator of why such an event occurred. Nightshade, the region under an eternal twilight.
Harold pulled out a different communication crystal. This needed to be handled carefully. If they barged in and made demands or killed the denizens of the dungeon, they might lose out on its resources. He had two calls to make.
One to his nephew, and one to a party member of his nephew.
Mason was jolted awake by the slight buzzing from his inventory. How an object managed to make such an irritating noise while spatially isolated would forever be beyond the young man.
He was back in the accursed forest. After the near encounter with the three things coming from the orcish horde, he had been sent in for further recon missions. Or rather, Leo and Maria were asked to send their team back in, and Mason insisted that he join them once more.
He was regretting that decision with every step he took through this strangely muggy part of the forest.
The sounds of small insects around him made his hair stand on end, and the sudden feeling of something small digging mandibles into his flesh was worse than any experience he'd ever had.
He kicked at what turned out to be an ant. Its mandibles were dug into his ankle, just between his shoes and the hem of his pants. His robe had apparently slid off his shoulders as he slept and was now dangling from the branches.
The ant, along with a small line of identical beasts, was crawling up the tree from the forest floor to bite him.
He stood up, crushed another beneath his heel, and then leapt to a nearby branch. It wasn't hard. The canopy was denser than the rest of the forest, apparently keeping the water beneath its branches. The only reason the trek was at all manageable was due to that. They didn't need to remain on the floor the whole time.
He remembered why he had woken up as he cast a pair of basic cleanse spells on himself.
He pulled the encrusted gemstone from his inventory. It was faceted identically to an awakening stone, though with inlaid crystals in various shades beyond the blood red of such a stone.
It also could not be used like an awakening stone, since its power was used for a singular purpose.
A system window opened, revealing the smiling face of… Hugo? No, Harold. His uncle, Harold, leader of the Dungeoneers Guild.
Mason grimaced when Harold's face appeared before him. He didn't like talking to this uncle. Harold had some strange ideas about the lord's power and spent some time attempting to prove his theories.
He also held some strange belief in a pantheon beyond the truth. Even though some humans worshiped the saints like Flora as a goddess rather than a subsidiary of the true god, they at least knew some of the truth. Uncle Harold believed in some gods beyond even them, making Mason always wary of the man.
"Hello, uncle," Mason said, his voice conveying both a question and utter disregard.
"Hello, Mason. I have a task for you and that party of yours."
Mason puffed up his chest at that. Even a heretic understood who truly led the party, though Commander outside clearly didn't see it that way. Even so, Commander was more likely to speak to the married couple anyway, considering their age and higher rank.
"There's a manifested dungeon somewhere in the nightshade region. You all need to find it and establish communication between me and it."
"Why would I do something so beneath me?"
"You would be helping your father greatly if you could convince a dungeon to work under our power.
That was a startling assessment, but not untrue. As Mason thought about it, he soon realized the truth behind his uncle's words. If he could not only pull a dungeon into the power of the Crimbrew family, but pull it in willingly, the rewards both to him and his father would be immense.
He nodded before cutting off communication. He didn't know which branches the others had set up in, but he had a new quest for them. Just after they finished this one, of course. The lord could not be left waiting for long in any of his plans.
Alabast awoke to his communicator lighting up.
The communicator was a real master work of the arcane. Using the outer layer of a dungeon core's crystal, an awakening stone, and twenty different kinds of essence crystal inset into the stone, the communicator could reach nearly anyone anywhere.
Due to the infusion of dimension essence into each stone, it could also communicate over such distances instantly. If they weren't worth more than some legendary-rated magic items in the emerald-tier, he would have broken his apart to see the circuitry hidden perfectly within.
He pulled it from the bag at his hip. Keeping it spatially isolated in the inventory caused the item to light up and let out its irritating buzzing right into the mind of its owner. He was a capable mage, but capable did not mean he would tolerate something buzzing in his head like a swarm of angry wasps.
The moment his finger found it, he felt a small amount of his mana drain through his wrist into the gemstone. With verification of who had it, the object began to display a system box containing the face of his old friend, Harold Crimbrew.
"Harold!" He said warmly, though still masked in his own soundproofing array, no one else could hear him.
"Hey, Bast," Harold said, some tension visibly draining from his shoulders as Alabast picked up the call.
"What's up?" Alabast asked, clearly talking about the stress Harold was carrying.
"Jack was an assole, as normal. And unfortunately, it seems Mason will be following in those footsteps."
Alabast winced. Jack Crimbrew, younger brother of Harold Crimbrew, was a stick in the mud if there ever was one. He was ruthlessly competent, but deeply unpleasant. Especially to mages like Alabast.
"I can attest on the Mason front, the kid's got far too much of his uncle compared to your or his old man." Alabast attempted to console his old friend.
"He always has. Indoctrinated early and not able to leave it behind." Harold replied, a slight sadness in his voice. He continued, "I hope the job I have for you two will put him right, even just a bit."
"You have a job? We're already on a job. A job for the church, too."
"I know, I had your statuses pulled for me."
Alabast looked at his colleague with a flat look.
"It's standard procedure, Bast," said Harold with a hurt look.
"I know, but it still feels like an invasion of privacy."
"Blame the adventurers, not us."
Alabast had heard–and said–that line far too many times to not just brush it off as Harold said it. Blame the adventurers for the way the dungeoneers acted. It was true, but Alabast always hoped that the dungeoneers would be better than the adventurers.
"So why did you want to put another job on us when you knew we were doing a quest for the church?"
"Because mine is more important."
Suddenly, a new system message appeared in Alabast's face, surrounded in a box of black scales rather than the normal flat blue of the system.
[Dungeon Quest: A Dungeon Manifest]
[An anomalous dungeon has appeared in the nightshade region of the central continent. This dungeon manifested rather recently, and already carries more champions than some old dungeons. In addition, it has its own avatar.]
[Objective: Seek out dungeon: Azotreh Nightshade (0/1), Ally with dungeon: Azotreh Nightshade (0/1), Give dungeon communicator to dungeon: Azotreh Nightshade.]
[Rare]
[Dungeon]
[Reward: Blessing of the Black Dragon Dungeon God (Ruby), Favor of the Dungeoneer's Guild.]
[Penalties: Lowered reputation with the Dungeoneer's Guild.]
[Time Limit: Until the barrier closes once more.]
Alabast's eyes shot wide open as he looked at the new window. He rapidly looked to his old ally, sticking his tongue between his teeth in concentration.
"Don't forward that quest to Mason or my party!" He shouted. Harold almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden shout. He turned back to Alabast.
"Why? Don't you want your whole team in on this?"
"Azotreh is one of the targets of our divine quest. If they find out that they're the dungeon, we won't just ally with the dungeon; we'll pick up the avatar and run, regardless of what that does to either."
Harold's eyebrows raised, and then he made a closing motion with his hand, "Alright, I won't give it to the rest of your party. But does this mean I can trust you to handle it?"
"Yes. They don't know how to put aside their pasts and seek out the truths of the universe. I do."
"Grand assumptions from you, Alabast."
"Just the truth."
Harold sighed, then looked back at his friend, "Just don't die out there, got it?"
"Got it," Alabast responded with a cheeky smile before cutting off communication. This job just got exponentially worse.