“You’re going to want to see this,” I conveyed to Bertha.
She glanced around after I’d broken her meditations. “What do I want to see?”
“Keep your eyes peeled for the bat sculpture,” I said before turning my attention to my imp champion. I focused, relaying my silent message to him. “Puck, I want you to trigger my new trap with a shadow-sphere. Can you do it without destroying the trap?”
“I can modify its power,” he replied. “Simply tell me where to throw it, Master.”
“It’s on the third stone tile in front of the Forge Chamber, ten tiles from the south wall.”
“Yes, Master.” Puck cooked up a sphere and then hurled the object at my desired location.
The ball of darkness glanced across the trigger with only a little pressure, but it activated all the same. With an explosive clack, five blades whipped out of the bat decoration’s mouth and fanned out in a wide arc. They lost momentum after about ten feet and skittered to the floor, but I swallowed them instantly.
“By Lilith, what was that?” Bertha gaped.
“Fresh developments, my champion,” I chuckled.
The blades weren’t cleavers like I’d laid down on the side-altars in the twisting hallways of the Pretzel. No, these were just iron blades—thick, heavy, and sharp enough to slice through troll skin. Taking what I’d just consumed, I reconstituted the substances and reloaded the blades into the new-and-improved trap.
I still had enough essence to try a few other traps, so I built two simple spikes. I made them almost five feet long and gave them the same design as Bertha’s original poleaxe. I already had names for them: Ceiling Spike and Floor Spike. I placed troll iron variations in the last passage leading out of the Pretzel beside the First Floor’s entrance.
Zagorath built Floor Spike (Troll Iron)
Cost: 800 Physical Essence
Zagorath built Ceiling Spike (Troll Iron)
Cost: 800 Physical Essence
One would slide out from the floor, straight into an unfortunate Adventurer’s underside. The other would drop from the ceiling with enough force to punch through a neck and chest, and maybe even enough force to split the skull of your regular, working-class human. I didn’t like my chances against trolls, but then I had my own troll who’d make short work of them. Well, half-troll, but I figured I liked her better that way.
I doubted I would be this strong without her, or without Puck’s mobility and magic. I might’ve been the brains, but they were the last line of defence against any adventurers who could bypass my traps and minions. Their place would be beside my jewel’s pedestal, ready to chop down any survivors.
I hadn’t discovered what Soul Essence could be used for yet, but I knew it was related to making my dungeon and avatar stronger. I could feel its power even though the method of activating it was a mystery to me.
That was a problem to be solved later. Besides, Gavin’s friends would bring me a whole lot more Soul Essence, and maybe I just needed a higher quantity before I could use it.
Time passed in Zagorath as it waited for a second wave of adventurers, but none came. That didn’t mean the inhabitants did nothing; we trained, and farmed, and perfected the dungeon in anticipation of our second kill.
I still hadn’t taken Bertha, and I could feel myself starting to grow eager, but my mind was still focused on adventurers. She seemed equally focused on training, and I put her and Puck to the task of farming Hellbats. Both champions committed to almost constant battle against the spawned minions, and I was brimming with 2,500 Infernal Essence by the end of it.
We’d become much more efficient in our farming methods, and before my champions retired each day, I ordered them to spar each other. The half-troll’s new halberd wasn’t quite capable of cutting through the imp’s shadow-spheres, but she could divert their trajectory a little by catching them in the flat of her blade. Surprisingly, Puck was capable of dodging her swings and swooping beneath her guard. They didn’t pull any punches, and I found myself repairing their wounds quite frequently.
The two champions were my best recourse for any adventurers who bypassed the Spring Traps and Hellbats in my antechamber, descended the first flight of stairs, and made it through the Pretzel. I would keep Puck and Bertha in the First Floor, between the corridor and my dais.
Twenty Hellbats were hidden away in their secret tunnels, and I figured they were plenty for now. Five perched above the antechamber, ready to roll out the welcome carpet for any Adventurers stepping down into my depths. Ten others nestled in the small alcoves above the side-altars, and the last five were stationed in the corners of the First Floor.
I performed more excavations while my champions rested. I didn’t make the rooms any larger but played with the detailing of the walls until they looked like they were formed out of giant obsidian bricks. I continued polishing the floors to make them glisten and reflect light like pristine pools of black liquid. It was a time-consuming endeavor, and I had to slowly consume and redistribute Physical Essence to make it work, but it was all worth it.
The time spent farming and excavating helped me consider what to do next, and I decided my dungeon wasn’t complete without rewards. If my gaming days taught me one thing, it was that adventurers only plundered a dungeon for loot. The mountain hadn’t provided me with a single vein of metal ore yet, but I still had the composition of troll iron tucked comfortably away in my memory-bank.
I poured Physical Essence into six cleavers, identical to the one Bertha had gifted to me. My consciousness fashioned the weapons and sharpened them to razor edges. I gave each a size variant but that was about the extent of what I could do with my limited knowledge.
