[DanMachi/Percy Jackson] Prytaneum

Chapter 10: Torchlight​ part 1

The small green creature released a gurgling noise as I opened its throat with the tip of my blade. Its hands started shaking even as it tried to take another step towards me, but its foot seemed to slip on nothing, making the creature topple to the ground. It trembled and shook slightly, limbs moving feebly, but I simply stood back and waited for it to finish bleeding to death. I wasn't really the tip to try and draw things out, but there wasn't much point in trying to approach a dying creature and give it one last shot, however weak it may have been.

Instead, I took several steps back and crouched down beside one of its already fallen companions, keeping the dying monster in sight at all times. With what was already starting to become practiced ease, I slipped Annabeth's dagger from its place at my side, took a moment to aim, and drove it into the creature I'd started mentally referring to as a goblin. Given its missing head, I wasn't expecting much of a reaction, but I didn't let my guard down until the last goblin's gurgling ceased. Only then did I set Riptide down on the floor within easy reach and focused on my work.

Like most of the things I actually used in life, I'd learnt this from Chiron—though, of course, he'd been teaching me how to hunt instead of harvest magic stones. Still, the aftermath was fairly similar, though I honestly preferred this. While I'd never dis the usefulness of hunting for my own food where Artemis might hear me and it had honestly come in handy a few times, the entire process of gutting and skinning an animal was, frankly, kind of gross. Especially when you're a twelve year old trying not to look too closely at what you're doing and end up sinking your blade too deep and piercing things you're not supposed to. I'd take a good, old-fashion cheeseburger any day.

On that note, I paused in my work and took a moment to mourn the loss of Micky D's and the burgers I'd probably never eat again. Rest in peace, Ronald—I hope you're flipped patties in the Elysian Fields. I'd have to find someplace new to sate my hunger when I had time and money.

Speaking of which, I returned to doing what was actually my job now, and opened the goblin's ribcage just enough to turn my blade and pry up the magic stone. It was actually easier to slit open the belly, put my arm inside, and go up under the ribs, but the downside to that was...the entire process, really. I'd gotten tired of covering my arm up to the elbow in blood really fast. Breaking the ribs wasn't that hard.

The moment the stone was in my hands, the monster collapsed into dust, similar to what I was used to. For whatever reason, monsters didn't go back to Tartarus immediately after dying, only vanishing entirely once they coughed up the goodies. If they even went back to Tartarus; I had no idea at this point. I put the stone—or the 'shard', since it was apparently incomplete—in the cheap pouch I'd acquired after an earlier foray and glanced behind me with a sigh.

The entire hallway I was in was full of dead bodies; forty-six of them total, if I hadn't lost count. An annoying number, to be sure, but there was no point in complaining when I had work to do.

Already, I was starting to get a feel for how things worked. Like they had when I'd first woken up, monsters broke out of the walls and attacked me—this was, apparently, where they were born. Given the nature of 'Despair,' I assumed I was getting attacked more often than a normal adventurer, because I'd never encountered less than six of the goblins or dog-heads at a time, and that was the very, very low end. It had a tendency to spike abruptly, but there was a pattern to it. Or rather, two things that seemed to set it off.

First of all, if I ran into a dead-end, monsters spawned by the dozens from every direction, blocking the only way out. Unfortunately, I didn't have much choice given how I was trying to look around; I had to explore the Dungeon in-depth to make sure I didn't miss anything that might point to some sign of my friends. It was probably fairly unlikely that they would appear this high up—or, if they did, that they'd have too much trouble getting out on their own—but better to be safe than sorry. If I couldn't fully explore even the upper-most floors, what was I going to do deeper down?

Predictably, I hadn't found anything—at least, nothing pointing to other demigods. I had found a corpse of an adventurer on the second floor and carried it up to the tower above, but that was mainly just depressing. Most of his face had been gone and it wasn't like I would have recognized him regardless, but we were both adventurers and it had been sad to learn that someone had lost his life and dreams to the Dungeon on my very first day. But at the very least, I'd killed the dog-head that had done it and brought him to the Guild members above. At the same time, it was a reminder that I was surrounded by things that wanted to kill me.

On that note, the second thing I'd learned was that if I decided to try and leave, monsters spawned every step of the way. It didn't matter where I was; as soon as I headed for the stairs, it fought me every step of the way, spawning monsters in every room and hall. The first time I'd tried to leave, before I'd bought a cheap bag to hold magic stones and had simply filled my pockets, what seemed like every wall I walked past had started cracking.

But here was the thing—if I simply tried to move deeper into the Dungeon, it seemed to put up only a token resistance. After I'd finished exploring the entirety of the first floor, for instance, I went straight through to the second every time afterwards and only got attacked by a few packs of monsters along the way. That was when I'd seen goblins and dog-heads in groups of only six or so; noticeably less than when I was just wandering around. More than that, the monsters tended to spawn behind me, as if to push me deeper, like they wanted me to go further inside.

Which, actually, I was pretty sure was exactly what they wanted. Or, at least, what the Dungeon wanted. I'd already heard that the Dungeon was alive, but it went beyond the fact that it birthed monsters and healed its walls and such. There was no way to truly know, of course, but I was becoming increasingly certain that the Dungeon was aware.

And it hated me. Maybe all adventurers, but me in particular, probably because I was a demigod. To that end, it seemed to want me to go deeper and deeper into the Dungeon, probably because it spawned stronger monsters on deeper floors. The way it had been acting was too much to be coincidental; it was actively working against me.

Which made me wonder; the skill, 'Despair,' said that it's effect increased as I got into more and more trouble. Was that something inherent to me or was it because I was being watched? The Dungeon...it had a feel to it, like it was waiting for an opportunity. If it saw me on my last legs, I had a feeling it would go out of its way to try and knock me over.

Fun, fun, fun.

I finished harvesting the rest of the goblins, a process I was growing more used to by the hour, and then hefted my bag. It was about half-full, and there was still plenty of space in my money bag even after my previous trips to the surface. I'd finished exploring the first, second, third, and now fourth floor, a process that had probably taken...I dunno. Six to eight hours or so, counting the round trips? At this rate, I should probably get a backpack or something, because the trips back to the surface were by far the most tedious part of the process. Profitable, granted, given the sheer number of things that spawned to try and stop me from leaving, but still annoying. If it took me about an hour to get from the surface to the end of the fourth floor, counting the fights along the way, then it was going to take me at least two to get back. The bright side was, I'd probably fill up the rest of the bag by then.

Alternatively, I could call Mrs. O'Leary and just skip the entire process, shadow traveling right back to the surface. I hadn't done that so far only because it took a lot out of her and having her swoop in to save me was backup plan if something went wrong. I hadn't realized how much of a pain in the ass going back and forth would be, granted, but still. If I was going to have her pull me out of the Dungeon, it should only be for my last trip of the day. Tomorrow, I'd just have to come better prepared, with more room to carry stuff and more supplies. Going all the way upstairs to get food or water was annoying as well.

But for now, seeing as I still had the room...I might as well go a little deeper into the Dungeon. Ten or twelve hours should be enough for a day's work, I suppose. Longer than a normal job, but there was more than just a paycheck on the line, too—I might as well wipe out all the easy floors while I still could. I wanted to get at least five floors done today.

That decided, I finished up my 'break' and headed towards the way down I'd spotted earlier. There were promises and miles to go and all that jazz.