The Survivor Becomes a Dungeon

Reyvyre Eldestent POV

"T-That snake around Basti's neck... That's a Juvenile Titanboa. Isn't it? The scale colorations are unique, but the shape of its head and the style of the tail are. It's unmistakable.." She says to Reonim, who gives an uncertain shrug, not nearly as worldly as the 2 ½ century old elf woman. She glances around, noting the three undead taking up the group's rear; they're so calm and behaved. It's unnerving, especially with the blood and gore dripping from their maw and bodies.

She shook her head, just trying to ignore her nerves. Though she can't help but consider that if this dungeon were any more malevolent, she and Reonim would probably be among their ranks. She then glanced over at the battered lizard man among the enslaved people. Despite his condition, the young elder kept pace as they ascended the mountainside.

"How much further are we going?" She asks Basti, the boss prowler. Basti glances back but, of course, doesn't speak as she turns ahead once more. It wasn't much longer until they passed the cave she and Reonim exited, but they were going higher still.

Zasutir POV

What was he getting himself into? The Mage and Minotaur were a big help in aiding the other beastkin slaves to escape from slavery. But now they were following a prowler with an undead escort up a mountain? It's obvious the monsters and the undead are under the influence of a higher power, but he didn't realize he would have to climb a mountain.

Hell, what was he going to do now? It's not like he can go back home... He's been declared dead, not to mention he would get snatched up again, wouldn't he? What about the other people? The orphans? That's right, now he remembers what spurred him to follow these people, he needed to either secure passage to the empire or somewhere to keep his people safe, and the best chance for that was by following these people. With renewed determination, he pressed forward, much to the protest of his old knees.

Suddenly after reaching a certain height, a staircase began forming before their very eyes, making the ascent much more manageable even if the stairs zig-zagged along the mountainside to counter the steepness.

Reyvyre Eldestent POV

They were high up now, the steps making the latter half of the trek almost manageable. Before long, they came across a sculpted entryway. Briefly, she's worried that Reonim would be made to wait outside, though the triangular entrance parted further, allowing the young minotaur to duck inside as they entered.

Before them was an ornate dome-shaped atrium, her attention was grabbed by the core in the center of the chamber, the emerald gem glimmering with three rings of light inside of it. Considering the 15 people taken down by its monsters, half of them were acolytes and holy knights. She shouldn't be surprised by the amount of energy coursing through that core, despite its young-looking size.

She was so focused on the core for a moment that she almost didn't notice the four prowler cubs watching her off to the right, Basti strolling through the sand of the room until she plopped down into a sleeping area.

Not to mention how the undead walked past the core, standing in the sand on the other side of the chamber before being engulfed by the ground and disappearing. She swallowed, wondering how many monsters were in the sand around her.

Her head began to throb, and she could see the others holding their heads when the dungeon spoke. 'Now that the caravan has been dealt with and the slaves saved, we should discuss how we should be moving forward.'

Reyvyre nods, stepping forward to address the core. "I agree, and first of all, I thank you, Vitmori, for honoring us with the privilege of standing in your core chamber. When we first spoke, you asked that I teach you, yes? I'd be willing to do so to secure further cooperation." She offered, hoping to secure a good deal for her Emperor.

The Core was silent, the green gem before her pulsing with mana and power, though soon it continued, the strain on her head lessened compared to earlier. Perhaps he's learning to manage his voice?

'I hold no good feelings towards raiders, slavers even more so... I will continue to attack caravans from both kingdoms once I confirm that there are, in fact, enslaved people in their cargo. In exchange, I want good relations with this Empire of yours... As a gift of goodwill, I offer these diamonds to you.' He explains as she hears quiet thumps, turning to see many gems falling from the air into the sand.

Her eyes widened as she looked them over from where she stood. The gems in question were varied in size. Some were as small as grapes, while others were as big as strawberries and even one that could be compared to a plum. They were beautifully cut and pristine but also multicolored. "T-those are diamonds? Truly?" She asked, not believing her eyes. There were many colors; a lot were blue, and others were white, purple, yellow, green, and even black! She'd never seen diamonds with such variations and hues.

Vitmori spoke up, and she could sense mirth in his voice. 'They look good, no? I'm sorry I could not make them purer or bigger. They were a rushed job in the end.'

Reyvyre gulped a bit, trying to consider the implications of that statement before clearing her throat. "We appreciate your generosity Vitmori, and I promise to do my best in securing good relations between you and the Empire." She gushed; Reonim was not getting what was happening but going to collect the array of gems as he procured a pouch from his stuff and began plucking them out of the sand.

Before she could continue, though, the dungeon spoke up again. 'I also shall grant you two names, I like you, and it seems naming bestows a measure of power to those named.'

Reyvyre blanched at that; she was about to get pure, processed mana straight from a Dungeon core. Would this be the tipping point to settle another ring around her mana heart?

Vitmori continues, his voice no longer even a pulse in her head. 'Reyvyre Eldestent, I grant you the name of Wintry. From now on, your name shall be known as Reyvyre Wintry Eldestent for your elemental ability... However, I also have some knowledge for you to consider in improving your magic.' He explains suddenly, the headaches return as her skull throbs.

Concepts flashed through her head about a gas that can be pulled from the air to form ice that can be even colder than water-based ice. Letting out a huff from the stress, she's flooded with vital warmth. It was almost overwhelming as she had to clench her staff and shut her eyes, focusing on the mana entering her as she guided it around her body and to her heart. The three rings of concentrated mana she had spent the last couple hundred years slowly forming were shuddering. However, despite the dungeon's apparent inexperience in handling mana, she managed to use the mana given to her effectively and wrangled the gift of mana to form a fourth ring. This advanced her power level a hundred years earlier than she could've managed, without a doubt!

"V-vitmori! I thank you for this most generous of gifts!" She exclaimed, her eyes bursting open and dropping to a knee and bowing to the core as she felt exhilarated after what just happened. She didn't even realize one of her blue eyes was now Emerald green.

Reonim POV

Reonim watched with odd fascination before looking to the core for his turn. 'Reonim, I grant you the last name of Cretan; may you be known as Reonim Cretan and grow to be a fine warrior. Do not let your losses stunt your growth. Move forward and learn through them.'

The bull staggers under the weight of the mana coursing through him, but he soon recovers, one of his brown eyes turning emerald green. He could feel his manaheart pound and throb with vigor; his vitality outright felt like he could topple a mountain if he tried, but probably not really. He goes down to one knee anyways, bowing his head. "I thank you for this gift, Vitmori. I'll do my best to serve once we return."

He goes to stand, grinning at an equally ecstatic Reyvyre, who smiles up at him when he hears the cough and clearing throat of the lizard man who had been patiently waiting for his turn.

Zasutir POV

The battered old lizard steps forward, clawed feet clattering against the stone as the Mage and Warrior step aside. "Oh great and powerful, Vitmori, hear my plea. We Beastkin, who the Gaian Theocracy has cast out, have no home to return to, and while I'm sure these kind Empire folk will be willing to bring us with them, there will no doubt be more Beastkin coming through your territory as enslaved people. If it is your will, allow us to settle in your land to build a haven for ourselves under the shadow of your protection." He begged with silent desperation, getting down to his knees and prostrating himself.

The core was silent for a good while again before speaking up in their minds. 'Yeah, sure, I don't mind.'