“They still haven’t entered the dungeon yet?” Viktor asked.

  [No, Master. I have been watching carefully ever since that day. But they have yet to appear.]

  Why? What was the point of going through all that trouble, traveling to Daelin, joining the Guild, becoming adventurers, if they had no intention of stepping into the dungeon? Wasn’t their goal to develop Dagnar’s Thaumaturgy? Was his assumption wrong?

  No. Maybe they were just being cautious. Dungeons were unforgiving, after all, so it made sense they wanted to take their time. Ask questions, gather intel, talk to the other adventurers who had already been there to know what to expect before stepping in themselves. Given Brynhildr’s nature, of course she wouldn’t want to walk into a dungeon blind.

  Yet, that meant his options were limited. There was only so much he could do outside the dungeon. He had considered breaking into their rooms to investigate, but unlike Azran and Lahmia, these two didn’t have a consistent schedule. There was no pattern, no routine to exploit. He had no way of knowing when they would return, and the st thing he wanted was to be caught red-handed while going through their stuff. Thus, he had to wait until they entered the dungeon before making his move, so that Celeste could warn him when they came back. That was the only safe time window for him to act.

  “Well,” Viktor said, “it can’t be helped. Let’s move on to other matters for the time being.” He turned to the glowing crystal at the center of the Core Room. “Celeste, give me an update on the construction of our little kingdom of sand.”

  [Yes, Master. I am reshaping the second floor as we speak. The desert is mostly done. It is just sand, after all. The real work is in the structures, since I have to build them according to Khenemhotep’s specifications.]

  “It’s fine,” Viktor said. “Just take your time. No need to rush.”

  The second floor used to be just a small area with the narrow maze and a couple of rooms. For quite a long time, he hadn’t figured out what he should do with it, so he simply kept it as it was. It served its purpose well enough. But after bringing the undead priest into his service, as well as unlocking Domain of Earth, it was time to give this floor a complete overhaul.

  It wasn’t an actual rebuild, though. The original parts were still there; he merely added more to the floor. Adventurers would continue to traverse the maze, oblivious to the transformation that was happening just beyond its walls. Unbeknownst to them, a much rger, entirely new section was being constructed, an area they had no access to yet. A domain scorched beneath an artificial sun, soon to be ruled by a certain High Priest.

  A new staircase to the third floor would be built there, at the heart of the desert. Once everything was finished, he would connect the old maze to the new area and dismantle the original descent path, which meant, from that point on, anyone who wanted to reach the water realm would first have to pass through Khenemhotep’s kingdom.

  [Master, the Guardians have arrived.]

  Viktor nodded, turning to the door just as it groaned open, revealing the towering Crocodilian whose massive frame nearly filled the entire doorway. “Master,” he said with his usual booming voice. Right behind him came Khenemhotep, who bowed deeply, reverently. “Sovereign of the Dungeon,” the undead priest intoned, his voice dry and hoarse, like sand scraping against ancient tombstones.

  “Sebekton, High Priest,” Viktor said, gncing over his new Guardian from head to toe. “You look quite different from the st time I saw you.”

  He indeed was. Around Khenemhotep’s withered body now draped yers of vish ornamental pieces. His once-bare skull was crowned with a tall headdress, forged of gleaming gold and engraved with various archaic-looking glyphs. A broad colr of golden beads encircled his neck, with golden amulets dangling below, and golden chains weaving a tapestry across his chest. His fingers were adorned with golden rings, his arms with golden bracelets, and his feet encased in golden sandals. The once fragile-looking undead priest now exuded the commanding aura of an ancient servant of a death god.

  “Blessed be the Dungeon’s Heart, for she has bestowed upon me the material I need to craft gear and trinkets of every kind,” Khenemhotep replied. “But behold, the gold is too much, with nothing else to be found.”

  [My apologies. Gold is the only material I am able to transmute.]

  “The Dungeon’s Heart need not apologize, for she has done more than enough. I am truly grateful for her kindness in granting even my selfish desires.”

  Viktor’s eyes traveled over the various items of many different shapes and sizes on Khenemhotep’s body. “So, sand isn’t the only thing you can manipute, but metal as well?”

  “Verily. But it is just a trick of the hand. All I can make are trifling trinkets to adorn myself. It is not the kind of gift that could help in true combat.”

  A pity, Viktor thought. He had seen someone use gold manipution to fight, and it was deadly.

  “Anyway,” he said. “How are you finding the floor I’ve assigned to you?”

  Khenemhotep’s posture straightened, and he gave a respectful bow. “It serves me well, Sovereign of the Dungeon. I am deeply grateful, for the Dungeon’s Heart has provided everything I need. The troglodytes have done their part, and the dies you sent are of great assistance.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Viktor said. He had been unsure whether those strange spider-women would fit into what the undead priest had envisioned for his kingdom of sand, but it seemed he had found some use for them after all.

  “Master,” Sebekton said. “We’ve met Kazyk outside. He and his men were assembling what appeared to be a giant crossbow...”

  “A ballista,” Viktor corrected him. “I tasked him with building it some time ago, and it’s finally completed. I’m going to test it today, and I want you both there to see it.”

  Their presence wasn’t strictly necessary, of course, as he didn’t really need their input on the matter. He doubted that they had much to offer in terms of technical advice on the operation of a siege weapon. But there was a reason why he had called them here. He wanted to give his top lieutenants an opportunity to interact and get to know each other.

  “This is the first time you’ve seen Kazyk, right, High Priest?” Viktor asked, turning to Khenemhotep. “How do you find him?”

  “Behold, the master builder of the Sovereign,” the undead priest said, spreading out his arms dramatically. “I found him to be a man of curious mind and diligent spirit. I have always admired those who create with wisdom and skill. I am truly gd at the thought of working alongside him in the days ahead.”

  “Good,” Viktor said with a nod. “Let’s head outside then, gentlemen. I believe he’s finished his final adjustments.”

  He strode forward, opened the door, and the familiar sights of the water realm unfolded before him. As his gaze fell upon the beach, however, his steps faltered. The st time he had stood here was also the st time he had seen Fianna. Now, she was gone. No sign of the mermaid could be found anywhere on this empty shore.

  “Master.” A cackling voice interrupted his thoughts, snapping him back to the present.

  He turned and found a small, wiry creature fshing a toothy grin at him. “Kazyk, it’s good to see you again. Has everything been finished?”

  “Yes, Master. The final touches are done. We can start whenever—” The gremlin paused, eyes widening as he stared at something behind Viktor. “Oh! I didn’t expect Lady Celeste to go out here as well.”

  Viktor turned slightly, gncing over his shoulder. Celeste’s crystalline form had just emerged through the doorway. She hovered forward slowly, without a sound, blue light pulsing from within her, rippling in rhythmic waves across her many surfaces.

  “I didn’t know she could move,” Sebekton said.

  “Of course she can,” Viktor said with a chuckle. “How else do you think she got from the old Core Room to this one?”

  No, not by teleportation. Celeste could teleport him and his minions around, but not herself.

  Normally, the Dungeon Core never left her room, for obvious reasons. After all, she had to remain in the safest part of the dungeon. Since she could communicate telepathically with everyone anyway, there was no need for her to go anywhere. But today, he had a specific task that required her presence on this beach.

  He walked toward the colossal siege weapon, its frame rge enough to dwarf even Sebekton’s imposing body. The ballista’s thick wooden beams were reinforced with bands of iron, and rge gears and pulleys could be seen nestled within the framework. Surrounding the massive contraption stood Kazyk’s crew. Other than his own underlings, there were also a dozen gnolls and goblins to help out.

  “To draw the wooden arms back, you need to rotate these,” the gremlin said, pointing at the rge wheels on the side of the ballista. “Four gnolls can pull together at once, but even with their combined strength, it’ll still take quite a while to fully retract it.”

  “Or we can just ask Sebekton,” Viktor said, turning to the Crocodilian.

  “Gdly,” the towering Guardian said with a grin, cracking his knuckles with a loud pop.

  The minions quickly stepped aside to make way for Sebekton, who marched forward and seized one of the wheels. As he turned it, the gears on the siege weapon began to spin, and the wooden limbs slowly drew back, ready to take aim at the distant horizon. Despite the sheer size and weight of the mechanism, the Crocodilian’s immense strength made the task look almost effortless.

  With a loud creak, the ballista’s arms locked into pce, fully drawn. “Done,” Sebekton said with a satisfied grunt. “Now, what’s next?”

  “Bolt?” Viktor asked.

  At Kazyk’s prompt, two gnolls hustled forward, hauling a giant bolt between them, their arms straining under its weight. The projectile was nearly as long as a tree trunk, its shaft thick, its tip gleaming with an iron sheen. With one arm, Sebekton lifted it like it weighed nothing. The gnolls stared with wide eyes as the Guardian casually carried the bolt to the ballista and lowered it into pce. “All set,” he announced.

  “The ballista’s ready to fire,” Kazyk said. “The release mechanism is very simple. Just pull that lever, Master.”

  Viktor gave him a nod. “Good.”

  There’s only one task left.

  Without waiting for his order, Celeste glided to the side of the ballista, her crystalline body floating just above the sand. Next to her y a single object.

  Clint’s bow.

  It was a Reliquary that allowed its wielder to control the trajectory of the arrow it shot toward anything they could see. No need to aim, no need to adjust. As long as their eyes could find the target, the arrow would follow. A perfect weapon for someone like Viktor, who saw everything within his dungeon. There was one problem, though. With this scrawny body, he couldn’t pull a bowstring worth a damn. So he immediately thought of using a crossbow instead. If he couldn’t pull it, he just needed to build something that could. But then another idea dawned on him. Why stop at a normal crossbow? Why not a crossbow the size of a house?

  [It is done, Master. I have transferred the power from the bow to the ballista.]

  “Thank you,” Viktor said as he reached for the lever. Theoretically, this should work. But theory meant nothing until it was tested. He would never know for sure until he actually gave it a try.

  His hand closed around the lever. And he pulled.

  The release was thunderous. The ballista shuddered as its arms snapped forward, and the massive bolt tore into the sky in a blinding blur of motion. The gremlins, gnolls, and goblins all cheered at the successful unch, but for Viktor, this was not a moment for celebration.

  He closed his eyes and sent his vision forward. It felt as if he were flying with the bolt, closely trailing it as it streaked ahead at unbelievable speed. He guided it toward the other entrance of the water realm. Once it passed the threshold, he curved its flight upward into a spiraling ascent. When the projectile reached the arena with the Cyclopes, he steered it through the hidden passage Bjorn’s party had once taken, as there was no way it could pass through the narrow maze without smming itself into the walls. Then he redirected it again, sending it up the staircase to the first floor. The byrinth here was a bit tricky, but manageable. He just needed to make sure he didn’t accidentally hit the walls, ceilings, floors, or anyone, be they adventurers or his own minions.

  Let’s see whether it can reach the dungeon’s entrance.

  Finally, as the bolt soared through the st hallway, the entry came into view, the very same archway everyone had to cross in order to reach his domain.

  He could see it now. So close. Just a little more.

  But then—movement.

  From the outside, a group of adventurers stepped through the threshold. And the bolt rammed squarely into the chest of the man in the front.

  “Kai, noooooooooo—!”

  An ear-splitting scream rang through his head, before he cut it off by opening his eyes. He found himself back at the third floor, surrounded by his minions, who were all staring at him in anticipation.

  “How was it, Master?” Kazyk asked.

  Viktor shrugged. “I’ve just killed an adventurer on the first floor.”

  There was a brief stunned silence, then the crowd erupted into cheers. Kazyk jumped into the air with a wild ugh. The goblins and gremlins bounced around like a bunch of overexcited children, while the gnolls threw back their heads and howled at the sky. Even Sebekton let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

  Calling the test a success would be an understatement. The bolt had traveled from the third floor to the first, evading all obstacles, and hit a target at the furthest point he could possibly reach. It was a result that exceeded all expectations.

  To that unlucky man, though. Oops! My bad.