I watched attentively the first performance of my floor boss, the hastily improved orc. Surprisingly, improving a monster was simple yet complicated at the same time.
I had to use almost all the mana I absorbed, which halted my DP accumulation for summoning more goblins. Every gram of energy that entered my domain I diverted toward Ravenous, leaving my counter stuck at zero.
To improve Ravenous, I first had to reinforce his body: denser bones, more elastic and resistant tendons, faster nerves, compacted and restructured muscles. I used my will like a sculptor using clay, molding every fiber, every organ, every centimeter of his being.
I also made him grow. He went from a two-meter-ten orc to an imposing two meters fifty. His skin turned such a dark green that in the room's gloom it looked black, blending with the shadows dancing among the columns.
His core, that small sun of mana inside him, also grew. It increased by about ten centimeters in diameter and now glowed with an intensity I had never seen in any of my monsters. I could feel the power accumulated there, waiting to be released.
With this improvement, I was sure Ravenous wouldn't be eliminated so easily. But to add more difficulty, I summoned thirty additional goblins that fell under his direct command. Lackeys, cannon fodder, but also tactical support. Ten of them were archers, armed with small short bows and arrows I had bought from the shop.
The whole process took me two hours and left me with zero DP. Zero. Nothing. But it would be worth it if these hunters fell.
Now came the field test.
I felt their approach through the walls. Their tired steps, their labored breaths, their hearts beating with that mix of fear and determination. They reached the doors and stopped, admiring the carvings I had made.
—Your opponents approach —I said through the mental link I shared with all the monsters inside my dungeon—. Prepare to fight.
The response I received from Ravenous was unexpected. Worship. Pure, almost childish happiness, mixed with a violent desire to please me. It was a bit disconcerting to feel that devotion coming from a two-and-a-half-meter beast with an axe larger than my smoke body.
When the group arrived before the doors, I opened them. I watched them enter cautiously, their eyes scanning the circular room, the columns, the shadows. And then they saw Ravenous.
The orc rose from the throne with deliberate, terrifying slowness. The axe rested on his shoulder. His yellow eyes gleamed in the gloom.
I closed the doors behind them. The sound of rock sealing the exit echoed through the room. There was no turning back now.
My goal for now was to see Ravenous's capabilities and, hopefully, eliminate one or two of them.
---
The battle began.
Ravenous didn't wait. He charged directly at the group with a roar that made the stalactites vibrate on the ceiling. His steps were tremors, his presence a mountain hurling itself at them.
The tall man, the one who seemed to be the leader, shouted something while raising his sword. I didn't understand his words, but the tone was clear: an order. The other warrior, the one with the spiked weapon, positioned himself at his side. The mage stepped back a few paces, raising her staff, her eyes glowing with arcane power. The stealthy man vanished into the shadows, appearing seconds later on a flank, his daggers ready. The woman in nun's robes began murmuring something, and a golden shield enveloped the group.
The thirty goblins emerged from behind the columns, from the shadows, from the recesses I had prepared. Ten archers positioned themselves in the elevated alcoves, arrows aimed.
Ravenous crashed into the two warriors like a hurricane of steel and muscle. His axe descended toward the leader, who barely managed to block with his sword. The impact sent shockwaves through his arms, forcing him back a step. The other warrior took advantage to attack with his spiked weapon, which spun in a deadly arc. Ravenous deflected the blow with the axe handle and responded with a knee strike that sent the man flying into a column.
The mage shouted something and launched a fireball directly at Ravenous. The orc tried to dodge, but the projectile hit him in the shoulder, burning his armor and the skin beneath it. He roared in pain, but didn't fall. His core glowed more intensely, and the wound began to close slowly.
Meanwhile, the stealthy man danced among the goblins. His daggers were a whirlwind of death, slitting throats, piercing eyes. The goblins fell around him, but more arrived. Ten, fifteen, twenty. It didn't matter how many he killed, there was always another ready to attack.
The woman in nun's robes maintained the golden shield over the group, but her forehead was beaded with sweat. Maintaining that protection while healing the minor wounds the goblins managed to inflict was exhausting her quickly.
The stealthy man shouted something while stabbing another goblin. The leader responded without taking his eyes off Ravenous.
I didn't understand their words, but the rhythm of the battle spoke for itself. They were coordinated, skilled. But they were also tired.
The battle stagnated. Ravenous kept the two warriors and the mage at bay, but couldn't land a decisive blow. The warriors were skilled, and the mage kept him at distance with her spells. Meanwhile, the stealthy man had already killed a dozen goblins, but the remaining ones kept pressing, keeping him occupied.
I needed to break that balance.
I observed the formation, analyzed their weaknesses. The woman in nun's robes. She was the pillar that kept the group standing. Her healing, her shield, her moral support. If she fell, the rest would crumble.
But she was well protected, in the rear, with the warriors between her and Ravenous, and the stealthy man covering the flanks.
Unless...
—Goblins —I ordered mentally—. Ignore the stealthy one. All of you against the woman in white.
The response was immediate. The fifteen goblins still fighting the stealthy man simply turned and ran toward the nun. The stealthy man, confused for a second, was slow to react.
He shouted something, a sharp warning sound, but it was too late.
The goblins swarmed the woman. Their daggers, small but sharp, began opening wounds on her legs, her back, her arms. She screamed, her concentration broken, the golden shield flickering and disappearing.
The leader turned his head at the scream.
He shouted something, a name perhaps. It was just a second of distraction.
But for Ravenous, it was enough.
The orc's axe described a perfect, unstoppable arc, driven by all his enhanced strength. The leader tried to raise his sword to block, but the blow came first.
The axe sank into his chest.
The sound was horrible. Bones breaking, flesh tearing. The blade pierced armor, skin, and ribs, opening a huge wound that immediately gushed blood.
The leader fell to his knees, eyes wide, hand uselessly pressing the wound.
The mage screamed something heartbreaking. She lost concentration. The fireball she was preparing in her staff flickered and dissipated into a cloud of harmless sparks.
At that moment, an arrow whistled through the air.
One of the goblin archers, taking advantage of the distraction, had aimed carefully. The arrow struck the mage in the chest, right between her ribs. The woman opened her eyes in disbelief, looked at the projectile protruding from her robe, and fell backward without a sound.
Ravenous didn't waste time. While the other warrior stared horrified at his fallen comrades, the orc turned and delivered another blow. This time there was no defense. The spiked weapon tried to block, but the axe was too large, too powerful. The weapon flew away, and the next blow split the warrior's skull like ripe fruit.
Two dead in less than ten seconds.
Meanwhile, the goblins had cornered the woman in white. Without her shield, without support, she tried to defend herself with her staff, but it was useless. A dozen small daggers found her again and again, until her body stopped moving.
The stealthy man was the only one who reacted. He saw his companions fall, saw the mage dead, the leader dying, the nun disappearing under a mass of green bodies. And he made a decision.
He ran toward the leader, who was still breathing weakly on the floor. He grabbed something from the leader's belt: a small metal disc that began to glow with blinding light.
—No! —I tried to shout, but it was too late.
The flash of light filled the room. When I could see again, the stealthy man and the leader had disappeared.
The goblins looked around confused. Ravenous roared in frustration, his axe striking the empty floor where the survivors had been.
—Damn it! —my voice echoed off the walls.
Two dead. Two. The leader and the stealthy man had escaped. But the mage and the other warrior lay dead on the floor. The nun too.
Not bad for my first battle.
But I needed to make sure.
Immediately I moved outside, merging with the terrain, extending my consciousness beyond the dungeon entrance. My senses swept the forest, searching...
There.
A few hundred meters from the entrance, a flash of light dissipated, revealing two figures. The stealthy man was kneeling, gasping, clearly exhausted from using that artifact. And the leader lay beside him, barely conscious, the wound on his chest still bleeding profusely.
The leader began to speak. His voice was a hoarse whisper, but I could hear him thanks to my domain. The language was strange, completely incomprehensible to me. Harsh, guttural sounds mixed with more melodic ones, as if they were using two different languages at once. I didn't understand a single word, but the intonation was clear: pain, rage, despair.
The stealthy man responded, also in that strange tongue. His tone was more urgent, more desperate. They argued, or at least it seemed that way. The leader coughed, and I saw blood stain his lips. The stealthy man began pressing the wound, clearly trying to stop the bleeding.
The leader managed to sit up slightly, his eyes scanning the forest. He said something more, a few words, and his voice broke at the end. A name, perhaps. That of the mage who had died in my room.
The stealthy man didn't respond. He just helped the leader to his feet. They walked slowly, painfully, away from my dungeon, disappearing among the trees.
I could have pursued them. My goblins could have gone out and finished them off. But something stopped me.
They had learned their lesson. And besides, two bodies lay in my boss room. Two sources of information, of experimentation.
I let them go.
I returned to my dungeon, to my boss room, where Ravenous stood over the bodies of the fallen, waiting for orders. The goblins swirled around him, excited by the victory.
—Well done —I said through the link.
The wave of worship I received from Ravenous was almost overwhelming. The goblins also rejoiced, their small minds full of pride for having served their master well.
But I was already thinking about the future. The guild, or whatever they have in this world, would know about me now. More would come. Stronger, more prepared.
I needed to expand. I needed more floors, more monsters, more traps. I needed to be stronger.
I looked at the bodies of the mage, the warrior, and the priestess. Their cores. If I could extract them, study them, perhaps I would learn more about this world.