“If it were not for cores being able to warp reality as a whole within their domain, I would more closely question how an entire arena was perfectly replicated underground.” Drell mused. The orc stretched as she walked, appearance refreshed after her brawl with the Warforged. “Now, mind you, I appreciate the look of it all and the commitment to a singular theme here, but it seems to be a massive cost in resources.”

Veska shrugged as the two eased down the carved corridor. Her eyes carefully gauged every marble pillar and draped banner they walked past, on guard for some form of treachery. 

“Where are all the traps?” She bluntly demanded. “We have passed several branches in the hallway so far, and not a single enchantment or mechanism has sprung up to hinder us.”

Drell rubbed the back of her head. 

‘Oh yeah, about that. Minotaur thing. Always pick the right path in a maze by instinct. Traps tend to fail in my presence.”

“I suppose some deity is to be thanked in response for this.” Veska groaned exasperatedly. “Well then, reveal who.”

Drell shrugged and grabbed a banner from the wall as they passed. She paused to wipe some blood from her wounds, then tossed it aside. 

“Truth be told, I know little of minotaur heritage, their legends and whatnot. Didn’t have much in the way of parentage. Don’t much care either.”

Veska sighed in exasperation and shuddered, a baleful glare directed at the tight walls that surrounded them. 

“I’d forgotten what express hatred I have for underground tunnels.” She muttered. “And before you ask about my being a dungeon guardian, I never left my high-ceiling guardian room.”

Drell stopped, hand clapped upon a wooden doorframe that promised to lead eve further into the cramped darkness.

“You. An immortal succubus of the hellish planes. Are scared of tight spaces and darkness?”

Laughter trickled from her throat before Drell bit it back down and her expression sobered. 

“That is…wholly understandable. My condolences.”

The door simply broke and toppled inwards as Drell abruptly shoved it. The succubus brushed past and stepped inside, her own weapon drawn and at ready. She sniffed the air, and her tongue tasted the bitter tinge of magic. Drell blinked as a single Veska became four. 

“Illusions.” She muttered.

The four succubi strode to different corners of the room and Drell sauntered in herself and spared a glance around. It seemed to be a gladiator’s barracks of sort, though she was sure it served no purpose. 

“I will admit, it is wholly strange to me that we have yet to encounter any opposition with the tunnels. One would think that the core would have thrown waves of its minions upon us by now, in hopes that we will be defeated or break and flee before them.”

Four simultaneous replies assaulted Drell’s ears. 

“It is very possible we are being lulled into a false and entirely fatal sense of security.”

“I do not disagree.” The orc returned, kicking a bunk in the vain hope something interesting might fall out. 

“Such as what lies within this very room.” Veska continued, her spear raised. She placed one hand on an innocuous table near the wall. That hand was swallowed a moment later as the wooden surface transformed into a mass of gnashing teeth and a whiplike tongue. The illusion vanished as the mimic attempted to swallow the unreal in vain hunger. Three more stepped to take its place, and the creature screamed as a trio of cruel spears pierced it. It writhed beneath the barbed blades, surprised by the very creatures it sought to ambush. 

“A deadly adversary when faced with inexperienced fools,” Veska disdained. “Useless against anyone who might have been experienced enough to make it past the Warforged.”

“You can’t blame the dungeon for trying.” Drell shrugged. “I suppose it might have worked if we had chosen to rest in the bunks for some unforeseen reason?”

Veska sneered down at the limp puddle the mimic was currently busy being dissolved into. 

“I could run this dungeon far better than whatever fool core is in charge of this place. All this useless extravagance curls flesh in disgust.”

“As I recall, your own guardian room was perhaps a bit lavish.” Drell teased.

“Certainly,” The succubus stared at her flatly. “That is because I draw power from such things.”

She gestured one clawed hand around in vague disdain.

“All this is? Useless. Someone wanted to create an underground arena and little else. No secret tunnels for minions to circle behind adventurers and pincer them, no actual creative traps. “Mimics are what has become the absolute height of outthinking your foes? What is this blasphemy?”

"Pathetic." The succubus spat. 

"I suppose you would be offended by shoddy trapsmanship.” Drell smiled easily as the Mimic’s body dissolved. The succubus yanked a rusted cuirass from the goo, eyes full of distaste. With a sigh of disgust, she tossed it aside and shook her head. 

“Pathetic.” She repeated. “Where is the lure, the economy? Dungeons are built around treasures and prizes to lure adventurers in. Temptations to pull them back in once they have left, to chance death for greed and glory. What does this putrid hole have to offer?”

“That was a bloody good brawl back there.” Drell shrugged, unconcerned by the stark lack of loot as she kicked over another bunk. “For my part-”

A stiff, pointed finger cut her off.

“You are the exception, not the rule. Hush and let me rant.”

She obliged willingly. 

“Where are the corridors that lead to nowhere, the trapped statues, the spawn pits that open once a fool has passed, the debilitation artifacts, the hordes that should roam the tunnels, the cursed prizes, the…anything?!” Veska raved, her hands thrown up in disbelief. “I slaved for years to prove myself worthy of proper dungeon management, and this…buffoon of a core gets to survive on being this stupid?”

There was sheer malice in her eyes as the succubus turned to Drell. 

“No longer. It is an affront to me, and I will see it purged from this world.”

A toothy grin was her reply. 

A grin that remained as the demoness kicked upon the far door, triggered a spike trap that swung downwards and was promptly torn from its hinges by an enraged succubus. Some inner part of Drell absolutely delighted with giddy glee as she watched Veska stomp down the corridor, engulfed in rage. A pride filled her as traps that otherwise would have failed in her presence were summarily dismantled and left in ruin. She was venting, and that was good.

The orc lazily followed the trail of demonic destruction, only paused to admire how often spike traps were repeated. Perhaps Veska was correct in that this core lacked any ingenuity if it chose to repeat a simple trap over and over. 

The ghostly crowd was ready to roar once more as the two entered the another arena, a trail of shattered traps to their backs. Veska looked on sourly while Drell grinned and waved to the apparitions, their adoration her fuel. 

“Smile,” Drell hissed. “It literally gives us an advantage.”

The succubus groaned, rolled her eyes and burst into the sweetest smile Drell had ever witnessed. Thunderous applause came from the specters as Veska flew around, kisses blown in her wake. 

Once more, an ornate gate was raised upon the opposite end, and their foe strode through. Drell raised an eyebrow as she took in the gangly form of a human dressed in little but a loincloth. An expression shared by Valencia for a heartbeat. The succubus smiled blithely at their opponent.

“At least this shall be easy.”

No sooner had she spoken that then the pudgy poltergeist from the previous arena appeared, voice booming through the cool air. 

“MY DEAREST GHOSTS AND GREMLINS, I PRESENT YOUR CHAMPIONS!” He stood upon the air, short arms upraised. 

“THE CHALLENGERS.” He indicated towards the two and refused to elaborate. A scant few cheers followed his announcement, followed by a glare from Drell. 

“AND YOUR CHAMPION,” He threw his arms toward the unhealthily thin figure that swayed as if a stiff breeze would knock him down. “THE BREAKER OF MOUNTAINS, THE ELEMENTAL FURY, THE WRATH OF GAIA!!!”

An enraged cacophony of frenzied cheers drowned out the rest of the man’s name,and Drell was hurled skyward as a tidal wave of earth exploded beneath her. Unreadied, the orc was unprepared as boulders crashed through the sky. The earth below shattered as eruptions of stone sprayed the sky. She rolled and twisted in the air, pummeled by earthen fury.

She realized with scant horror that she faced an immensely powerful earth mage. One that burned his own body for fuel, given how gaunt he was. The crowd cheered as she twisted around a pillar that was hurled at her like a stone spear, air so thick with debris she barely saw Veska blur past. 

All ceased a moment later as the succubus darted down from the sky and impaled the mage upon her cruel speer. She hoisted the thin sack of flesh and bones into the air and hurled him into the stands. 

Drell, followed by several tonnes of earth, collapsed back to the ground as the crowd booed in disapproval. 

“As I said,” Veska coldly noted in utter disregard for the ghostly disapproval. “Easy.”

The scant few coins that lay within the victory purse they received indicated that the crowd found their ease of victory unassuming. Drell decided she was inclined to not to care as she rubbed the aches and pains upon her body from the wholly unfun battering she had received. 

“Mages.” She growled, “Fuckin hate em. Never any fun to fight.” 

“I would make some witty quip about how only orcs judge battles by the fun factor, but amusement fails me.” Veska bluntly stated. “Let us forge on and end this place.”

That, Drell had no issues with. 

The two traversed the shattered earth and left the arena, with Drell only paused to inspect the murals upon the tunnel walls. They showed a now-obviously female minotauress that wrestled with enemies of all breeds, always victorious. Her admiration was ended when Veska stomped past, slapped her ass so hard it stung and barked at her to hurry up. Rear end sore, the orc obliged. 

The things she did for her lover…

And not so far away, in the darkness, a figure observed the duo as they traveled through more rooms of plain barracks. It shivered in pure, unbridled excitement. Impatience writhed through its form as it viewed the bickering duo. Soon.