I Must Defend the Dungeon

Chapter 3: Part 2

I went to my bedroom after dinner and was pleased to finally have some time alone to think. In the silence of my room, I tried to come to conclusions about what was happening to me, what my "power" to remember meant, how I should use it, how the dungeon worked, and countless other worries.

I needed more information. I did not even know if it truly mattered whether humans got past the first floor. If they were all being killed on floor two, and we were all being reborn, did it matter that we kept dying? Dying was painful, humiliating, and it erased the others' memories. I hated the humans more every time they murdered us, but if it was somehow part of the plan, to lure them to their deaths on floor two, then at least our deaths were contributing to the dungeon's safety.

The next day, I woke up determined to learn what I could, and to stop the humans.

"Warden!" I called out as he was about to smack a worker with his staff. He looked at me fiercely, as if daring me to stop him. I tried to put on a face that hid my disgust. "Can I ask you a couple of questions? Information to better protect you," I added respectfully.

He eyed me suspiciously and asked, "What?"

I had to make sure he genuinely believed I was concerned for his safety. "You've survived for a long time, right? You must know some clever ways to fool the humans, yes?" I made sure to sound praising.

He laughed. "Humans are fools. Three months I've been alive, never once have I failed to trick the idiots. They never bother to check all the tunnels. If they're determined to kill the warden, I just give my helmet and staff to one of these weaklings and the humans don't know the difference. Idiots."

"Clever!" I wanted to hit him. "And after they leave for floor two, do they ever come back? If they get past us, it might be best to set a trap for them on their way back, if they do." I appeared to have won him over with my compliments.

"More often than not they come back through, with full bags. Usually worse off for it, though, hehehe. Covered in blood and dirt, injured, sometimes one or two dead. A trap might not be so bad, but you can't use any of my materials! If you make it you'll find your own. And you better die defending me, not just run or hide. That's your job!" His attitude toward me flipped mid-sentence, from respect to suspicion. It was almost impressive, in its own way.

Deep in thought now, I forgot his rudeness, thanked him, and slowly walked back toward the mine's entrance to rejoin Long-Ears and Frowner. So they usually make it back alive? Do they run for their lives, or clear the whole floor and turn around after getting what they want? Do they really manage to invade, kill us, and then leave with full bags?

The answers did not matter. What mattered was that they were leaving the dungeon alive, which meant my failures to stop them truly were failures. It was time to change this flawed strategy, and damn the plans planted in my head. I told myself then, Humans will never make it out of the dungeon alive again!

"Raaaaaaaaagh!" an angry roar echoed from a distance.

The sounds of combat in the distance entered my ears. Damn it, no! I thought. The timing could not be worse. I sprinted out of the tunnel to the main cavern and saw Long-Ears shooting arrows, a fierce look in his eyes. Good! I knew he was reliable.

But as I turned past the wall I saw the battle. Five humans were there, unharmed. One was heavily defense-focused as usual, two were attacking on the front line, and two in cloth stood back. One wore familiar light cloth, and the other wore dark robes, the likes of which I had not seen before. It appeared to be speaking in a low voice, but I could not make out the words.