Sometimes I think that I’m a bit of a heart-breaker, you know? But don’t ask me why I think that.
I leap, my boot kicking off of the jagged spire of rock which crashes up out of the ground towards me. It might just be my raging self-confidence, honestly.
As I fly through the air, my cape billowing wildly behind me, I see the world around me become illuminated in a bright, yellow glow. The lance swings out to my side, cutting through the ball of magical energies that someone sent my way, slicing it in half. The world behind me explodes as the broken spell crashes into the wall. I only catch a glimpse of it, as the momentum of the impact sends me flying off in a furious spiral that I somehow manage to control, spinning through the air and then landing on the ground next to a surprised elf.
An elf? Cool! I didn’t know there were elves around here.
A glint of silver shines in the air, the morning dew that pearls on its sheen surface reflecting the jubilant light that shines through the distant gate, washing us all in a soft glow that leaks through the corrupted purple fog. There is a loud clambering as my arm shoots out and I grab the blade in mid-air, the dew, much like the sweat on her pale skin flying all around us and capturing the sunlight. Not much on me to cut, you know?
I flash her a wink, signaling my desire to be her friend as I leap, pressing my shin into her gut and sending her flying back, crashing into an approaching party of adventurers. That’s what winking means in human language, right, guy? Yeah, thanks. I wasn’t sure for a second there. Wouldn’t want anyone to think I was a creep, haha!
Sparing a second to look at the sword that is still in my hand, I drop it in distaste, listening to the metal ring out as it rattles against the ground. I don’t do swor-
The world spins as I am sent flying back to the side and I crash against the wall, listening to a loud ringing as my hollow armor cries out like a mourning bell on the sudden impact. I feel my spine cracking in half, severed as something breaks through it from the right side. Pressing my hand out, I grab hold of the arm that is pushed into my core and I look at the monk.
Wait. You’re not my monk.
I narrow my eyes in distaste at the other monk. Some random adventurer. Pressing my foot against the wall that I’m being jammed into, I leap, sending us both flying a few feet. Enough to make him lose his balance. As I rise into the air, my other foot presses onto his shoulder and I leap again, kicking off and sending him crashing into the wall that I was just pressed again. Something cracks, but I wouldn’t worry about it. I think it was just his arm.
My spine pops back into place as the dungeon heals me. He’ll be fine. I’m sure the dungeon will just heal him too in a minute. Or maybe the priestess will. She’s nice like that, you know?
As if having sensed my thoughts, the world around me erupts into a crystalline shimmer as I fly through the air, mid-jump. Glass walls, no, white-magic walls appear all around me, suspended in mid-air as they pop up on all sides of my flying body and then, before I even start falling, they press themselves together, crushing in against me from all sides.
In a second, before they close in, I twist the lance, holding it sideways. A wall crashes against the blade, another against the bottom of the shaft. The other two walls crash against the first two, sealing me in a rectangular cage. Swinging myself up, I press my boot onto the lance and leap up into the air without it, OOH! - flying through the opening above my head. The white-magic shatters, breaking apart as a massive fireball erupts where I was just hanging a second ago in free-fall. The lashing tendrils of fire shoot up towards me and reach for my ankles like reaching hands of the things in the bad-water. Long, creeping fingers of fire rise out of the inferno, as if trying to drag me back down into it.
My body shakes as something else hits me. Something hard and small. Many somethings.
I fall, flying through the fire and the white-magic that cascades all around me, looking at the four arrows that stick into my breast, having been shot in quick succession. Wow! I haven’t seen an archer in a long time. A loooong time!
Actually, I haven’t seen any adventurers in a long time, now that I think about it. Just the hero-party really. But we used to have all sorts come down here. Ah… I really missed it, actually, guy.
I plummet through the air, spiraling out of control as I gaze around the room in that time-slowed second. My eyes dart from one face to the next, as I look at every single one of them, as I gaze at every single, glossy, shining, lustrous eye that stares towards me with such intent. With such fixation. With such… with such…
Thook-thook.
I smash against the stones, rolling to the side, leaving a blue smear behind me on the rocks as I escape the barrage of stones crashing down against where I was just laying. A geomancer? WOW! There are so many cool adventurers here today! Dungeon-master! Dungeon-master! Are you watching? Are you seeing this? Am I doing a good job?
My slide comes to a halt, I jump up to my feet, avoiding the cascading rubble that crashes down all around me, lifting my hand to catch the lance that falls down my way a second later, glowing with a radiating heat that hisses like an agitated viper as it touches my gauntlets, the metal still stained with a crystalline, wet morning-dew. Did I look cool? I hope so. I tried really hard.
I am surrounded by smoke and particulate and I hear their frantic shouts and screams as they try to organize themselves, as they try to come up with a plan to stop me as they are noticing that I’m one tough cookie. I’m not, honestly. I’m really sensitive and delicate, you know? I just want someone to stroke my head and tell me that I’m good. But I’ll have to earn that if I want it.
There is a silence as nobody sees anything anymore, because of all the destruction that needs to come to a rest first. The quiet is broken by one thing however, by me, by the sounds of my heavy, clanking boots ringing out as I rise up the pile of broken rubble, dirt and bricks.
Thook-thook.
It’s kind of an unfair fight, one versus twenty-something plus the hero, who hasn’t even gotten involved yet. But that’s okay. Rising to the top of the hill, I stand there and crack my neck, feeling the warm wind cascade past my back as it runs up the stairs and blows out towards the dungeon gate as it always has, as it always will. The warm breath that stems from the deepest recesses of the world, where I too come from, pushing out towards the expanse beyond, as if a guideline, as if it were a red string of fate for me to follow from start to finish. Thanks wind!
As it blows, it carries away with it the cloud of dust and smoke that encapsulates my silhouette. Okay. Okay. Breath. Breath. This is it. This is my big moment. I feel my legs shaking, but I do my best to keep them steady as I tighten my posture and lift my head. I need to make a good show out of it. Everyone is watching me, you know?
I hear worried whispers. I hear a worried shuffling of boots and metal. I hear a frustrated clenching of teeth, I hear… I hear a heavy thudding, coming from the inside of my own breast, one that shakes my body more than any sense of fear or anxiety ever could.
I just realized something, guy. Am I a boss-fight? Wait… no… no! Oh boy.
OH BOY!
Guy! I’m a boss fight! I have to be, right? One dungeon-dweller versus a whole raid of adventurers? I’m… I’m…
My body shakes as my free hand, scorched and blackened, covers my left eye, smearing my skull with ash as I gaze out at the two dozen fearful faces staring up my way. Humans. Elves. A dark elf or two and hey! Check it out! There’s even a dwarf back there! Wow! Guy!
Guy, I’m not… I’m not just a trash-mob or a sub-boss. Guy. I think…
- I think I’m the end-boss?
Dark lord forgive my doubts. Dungeon-master! You’re the best! You’re the best! I could cry.
I drop the blade of the lance, letting it strike against the stones with a loud ring.
Ding.
The fog of war dissipates, the interlude to our fight coming to a close as I make my grand entrance. Or, in technical jargon, as I enter my second phase. The wind blows at my back, gently tousling the light fabric of my cape past my side, as if it were ruffling my hair. They all look at me. They all watch me.
Ding.
The lance strikes against the rocks again as I can barely contain my excitement. My fervor… My… my…
I watch as they all shift uneasily. A few of them take a step back in fear, clearly intimidated by my commanding presence. It’s so embarrassing, guy! Everyone is looking at me!
Ding.
I hope they don’t think I’m ugly.
Ding!
I hope they don’t think I’m weird or stupid or anything like that. I really want them to like me. I really, really do.
Ding!
The crowd disperses, splitting apart and running away into different directions as they make a panicked plan, though I’m not really sure what their problem is. I’m just hitting the rock with my lance. They don’t seem to like it though.
Ding!
You think if I fight really hard, if I look really cool and dramatic, that they’ll all be really impressed? Do you think they’ll want to be my friends? I really hope so!
DING!
My body swings in a light arc, getting ready to do something, though I honestly don’t even really know what exactly it is that I’m doing. I’m just following my muscle memory here, guy. My body knows what it’s doing. Have a little faith, okay?
DING!
A group, who I presume are all their healers and supporters combined, come together at the front of their lines, holding their hands out towards me. What’s that? You want to hold my hands? I’m so embarrassed! But I don’t have enough hands for all of you!
DING!
Maybe the priestess first?
DING!
We go way back, you know? So I can start holding her hand. Then uh… I guess you there, elf-shaman-lady, with the big earrings, you can be next. I like your hair.
DING!
My arm arcs back as I make my mental list of the order of hand-holding to come.
DING!
Maybe after that, the monk? She’s not a supporter and she’s there in the back, but… you know… I feel my cheeks grow flush and rosy as I feel a little gigglish. Maybe… maybe I can hold the monk’s hand with one hand and the priestess’ with the other? At the same time? OOOOOH! I’m so embarrassed, guy, don’t look at me!
DING!
My eye spasms. “DON’T LOOK AT ME!” I scream, as I swing the lance out forward towards the raid of adventurers. The world flashes bright, the dungeon shakes, my body shakes, my bones, my spirit, my eyes shake, as I let out the hero’s strike, the monstrous wave of energy crashing towards them, as its back-draft of force streams back my way, pressing against my body as if it were trying to blow me back down into the darkness from which I have crawled.
But I am not going back.
I am never going back.
Not alone. Not together. Not with or for anyone. I’m so close. I’m right here. I’m right here.
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!"
WAH I'VE BEEN STOCKPILING CHAPTERS FOR A BIT TO BINGE AND THIS IS THE CHAPTER I CHOOSE TO CATCH UP ON GJSDKJFSDF I'm afraid I played myself a little with this cliff!
Anyway, its been a WHILE since I read the early chapters and there's a lot I probably missed, but to sum up what I think I've gathered before we possibly get some answers:
-At some point in the past the dungeon existed, and the hero party would attack and clear it. Based on the metaphors thing it seems like the original purpose was to try and teach moral lessons to summoned heroes? Lance hero was an anti-hero summoned by the gods who felt that the dungeon mobs deserved better and tried to save them.
-Something went horribly wrong and he died. Maybe he tried to stop the hero party for good and overstepped his bounds? Either way, he was punished after death by being sealed at the bottom of the dungeon. At least one of his party survives in the form of Susurrant/thief girl? Our skittering friend may also be related?
-The cultist group, headed by the lane hero's former master, struck an agreement with the dungeon master to try and resurrect lance hero, with the logic that a redemption arc would be a good story/metaphor for him. Perhaps the resurrected hero is intended to escape as a soul using the hidden stairs? Something goes wrong somehow, and the dungeon is trapped in a time loop without the hero properly resurrected.
-Our MC begins their cycle of respawns. I THINK that the original MC is who the protagonist has been calling "Eyeyoume"? And was legitimately just a normal trash mob of some type? They certainly seem very happy to just. Be part of the dungeon. But I'm not 100% sure on this. They may also be a fragment of the lance hero's original personality/soul, but it seems less likely with how poorly Nichodemus seemed to look at them. Or something else entirely.
-MC encounters the lance hero's corpse. Lance hero's soul or remnant will or something bonds with their soul, weakening the seal and the fungus around his corpse begins to corrupt the dungeon. Maybe a side effect of the resurrection ritual? Or maybe his very being at this point is antithetical to the dungeon.
-MC begins their quest to escape, driven by lance hero's desire to go back home. They aren't aware that his personality and thoughts are corrupting theirs. The encroacher breaks into the weakened dungeon, likely in search of the dead hero soul.
-Things go badly, Susurrant dies (?), MC is punished by the dungeon master (the dungeon master maybe thinks that they're the lance hero at this point? Sussurant certainly did) etc. Lance hero's will continues to corrupt or merge with the MC, resulting in their continued madness.
-Dungeon master refuses to let MC respawn, but the dungeon takes measures to preserve its integrity from the corruption he brings and forcibly places him in the skeleton of his original body. Or maybe the lance hero forces the resurrection by sheer force of will. The process completely breaks the seal on him, resulting in the corruption moving FAR faster and from this point out the "lance hero" personality takes center stage in many ways.
-Whatever's left of lance hero is highly unstable, resulting in the MC's irrationality, forgetfulness, and mood swings. "He" takes steps to try and save the dungeon denizens, despite the fact that they seemingly just want him gone before trying to escape as quickly as possible.
-The hero party, whose job it presumably is to make sure he remains sealed in the dungeon by regularly clearing it, recognizes "him" (or the fact that MC is carrying his soul and body?) when he clashes with them at the mill, and stops trying to clear the dungeon in favor of hopefully killing him. Realizing it's impossible they fall back to stop him at the entrance.
-They do seem to realize that the original MC is somehow separate from lance hero, at least that seems like the most logical way to interpret the priestess saying that they can't take "it" to the surface. Or perhaps there's another detail i missed, like lance her's body or lance being the true thing they're trying to seal or his body containing something dangerous used to resurrect him that's the "true" source of the corruption. Or the corruption is something that came along with him when he resurrected.
-Lance hero's personality becomes further unstable. The original MC's thoughts and feelings start to dominate again, but an uneasy balance is struck by the slime girl - she may have been shaped by both their feelings and those of the lance hero. It falls apart after she's left behind, and lance hero's attempts to reassert himself grow increasing self harming until seemingly nothing is left of his personality and all we have is a horribly unstable original MC. However, they take up his literal and metaphorical cape and go to fight through the last floors to try and escape.
Still not totally sure on a lot of stuff obviously, like im not sure what the lance hero's original relationship with the miller was, or how much of the symbolism is related to his personal struggles and backstory, or stuff like that... it might be more clear on a reread haha. But those are all my main thoughts and theories on what's going on, thank you so much for the fantastic wild ride so far! I. Sincerely did not except something this wild when i read through the first tenish chapters on a whim and found the MC's personality likeable enough to wanna keep reading XD
Omg thank you. That is more cohesive than anything I came up with. I eventually gave up on making sense and hoped everything will be explained at the end like a detective show.
@Tsuno HAHA no problem im probably wrong on some of the details, but i think i got the overall gist, at least as far as lance hero influencing the MC's personality even before his skeleton was possessed and him being the source of the corruption/blue mold.
Also, if you want my almost entirely hypothetical theory about MC's identity? I think they're someone close to the lance hero who died because of (or even too!) the sword hero's party. Maybe a girl who was a member of lance hero's anti-party but had a crush on sword hero? After she died, lance hero kinda lost it and attacked sword hero directly but lost the fight and died. Then when time came to resurrect him, he refused the resurrection and redirected it at her instead.
But her soul was so tattered by that point that she'd lost all of her memories, and with no body present she just started attaching to random dungeon mobs and started assimilating pieces of their souls and personalities, resulting in the unstable, childish, dungeon master obsessed, trash mob MC we see at the start of the story.
That's why EVERYONE hates or at least seemingly dislikes her. Dungeon master blames her for the lance heroes death and the ritual isn't fully over until she escapes the dungeon like he was supposed to, and the cultists (notably nichodemus) don't hate her, but they would much rather have the lance hero back to save them instead of this barely functional lost soul.
The exact source of the corruption and time loop isn't quite clear with that theory ofc. Maybe upon finding out about his resurrection the hero party somehow sealed the dungeon in the past before it happened? It would explain why nichy and the cultists seem to think the ritual hasn't taken place yet when MC possesses them... The lance hero also could have used some forbidden item to try and kill the sword hero, or maybe its just magical side effects of a resurrect ritual breaking something. Lots of crazy theories I can come up with, lemee tell you guy XD
@RavenTears Jesus christ dude, I think your breakdown is longer than the chapter itself haha. Really cool, thank you!
You're pretty close to the mark in a lot of ways. I'll give you a little secret for your trouble since I don't want to leave you empty-handed. Remember when MC talked about emergence, about things that aren't alive coming to life? Like the dungeon? That applies to more than just the dungeon.
At first 'guy' was just a phrasing that MC used to talk to themselves, but along the way that word turned into an imaginary friend/tulpa which then later on turned into the fuzzy, soft warm and snuggly 'guy' we have now after it 'emerged'. Much like the dungeon, the corruption has also come to life.
@Razmatazz *groans* something kinda similar occurred to me, but I dismissed my own idea . I didn't recall talk of emergence tho. Hmmm now if I take that idea to the next level....
@Razmatazz OHHHHHHHHHH I TOTALLY FORGOT ABOUT THAT thank you for the secrets!!! that would absolutely explain a lot of things wouldn't it c: It's a pretty major theme with the dungeon too, things coming to life, back to life, or becoming for lack of a better word "humanized" through their lived experiences...
ngl I really wanna reread the whole thing now GKJNSDFKJNSDKF I went back to some of the earlier chapters and found all sorts of intriguing possible hints - for example, ol' Nichy accuses MC of being not even a dungeon creature and describes them as some kind of "soul-worming parasite". Which raises the possibility that MC themselves was something else entirely that the dungeon gave sentience. I don't think its the most likely theory, given that the dungeon master does seem to blame them for. Well. A lot of stuff, even if somewhat unfairly, and they did say that they were waiting around for MC to find the stairs and start climbing...
But again, its hard to read too much into any one thing or tip because of the way other characters seemingly regularly mistake MC's identity as is and the hints we get from their own thoughts are often, well, rather chaotic. Very eager to see more revealed XD
@Tsuno I JUST LOOKED IT UP ITS IN CHAPTER 105 AND:
"Or another example, the pale white-blue luminescent fungus we have scattered around the dungeon on some of the worse off areas. We didn’t make that. It grew on its own, independent of the resets even; it just keeps spreading. It turns out that it grows out of areas filled with an extraordinarily high amount of magical residue, the Hero-Grave, the Moonlight-Arena and other such places. It’s been spreading around further and further despite our attempts to cull it."
IS IN THERE NARY A HALF DOZEN PARAGRAPHS BEFORE:
"The dungeon, all dungeons follow many of the same rules that govern all of the life around us. And one of the big factors in a dungeon is the property of emergence. Little things make up one big thing. Hundreds of muscles make a body, ten-thousand droplets of toxic sludge make a puddle, one-hundred and one core floors make up the dungeon. But there is a side effect, an unintended side effect. The muscles become a body that spasms and moves, the puddle springs to life and becomes an ooze, aware and feeling anguish at its own existence, the dungeon… well… it sometimes kind of does its own thing too, you know? Actually, a lot more than we like to admit. There’s a ghost in the machine if you will.
People would get spooked if they knew, honestly. But the truth is the dungeon itself has… emergent properties in a sense. It’s living and breathing in a way I can’t explain. These moving shelves? We aren’t doing that. It’s the dungeon. We don’t know why it does it, but it does and we just kind of play along because we have a show to run and at the end of the day it’s good for us too. "
@Razmatazz you sneaky legend you, it was right in front of our faces the whole time!( •̀ ω •́ )
irrationality, forgetfulness, and mood swings.
Sounds almost like altered brain chemistry. You know what else would cause altered brain chemistry, irregular violent/suicidal behavior, and ultimately death? Viruses (rabies) and parasitic infections. Most likely vector? Maybe the invasive, pervasive, mana leeching mold that's covering the whole dungeon? He was fully consumed as a slime, it may have exacerbated pre-existing conditions, and given the magic component, might carry through incarnations.
And why we haven't seen the hero and suddenly found a bunch of hunters with a notable number of white and fire mages? Biohazard cleansing. Kill everything with fire and hope the spores don't survive.
Or maybe skitters killed them all on a skipped floor and this is a recovery team and there's no impending apocalypse that spear's subconscious was attempting to warn the hero about.
Yeah, that sounds right
No worries.
IT'S TOO LATE. ALWAYS TOO LATE
@schuldraigh well, then I gotta apologize for my salt and give author more credit. Successfully writing an authentic change of self is harder than you might think. It is not like one can slip into the mind of a very different person for perspective. This is why works from the same author have similarities, and maybe similarities to the author.