262. Dungeons Spawning Everywhere Part 1

Lord’s Castle, Flask County, Mainland Ancorna, Ancorna EmpireSilence hung over the castle like a shroud. It was not the peaceful quiet of an empty home, but the heavy, suffocating stillness of a graveyard. The grand oak doors of the main hall stood ajar, revealing a cavernous interior that was devoid of life.

Kim City troops, their boots echoing sharply on the stone floors, swept through the rooms with military precision. They checked the servant’s quarters, the kitchens, the main office: nothing. Not a soul remained. It was as if the entire population of the castle had simply evaporated into the thin mountain air.

“The town at the base of the mountain is also dead silent, Captain,” David reported, lowering his binoculars as he stepped away from the window in the main office. His voice was low, wary. “No smoke from the chimneys. No carts on the roads. Nothing.”

Captain Hughes stood by the window, his gaze sweeping over the abandoned courtyard below. The wind whistled through the battlements, a lonely, mournful sound.

“That seems to be the case,” Captain Hughes muttered, his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of his sword.

Emma, seated at the large desk, flipped through a stack of heavy ledgers. Her brow furrowed in confusion. “This doesn’t make sense. The logs show activity up until late yesterday evening. Deliveries, guard rotations, kitchen inventory... they couldn’t have evacuated thousands of people in less than a day without leaving a trace.”

Aurora walked slowly through the room, her fingers trailing over the dusty surface of a bookshelf. “It’s so odd...” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “This is my home. The place I longed to reclaim for so long. And yet...”

She paused, looking at the disarray on the shelves, books pulled halfway out, papers scattered on the floor, inkwells left uncorked. It looked as though work had been interrupted mid-sentence.

“When I stand here now,” she confessed, hugging her arms around herself as a chill ran down her spine, “I feel nothing but an overwhelming sense of dread.”

“Come now, Lady Aurora, do not let ghosts spook you,” Ben, her stoic Chief Advisor, chided gently, though his eyes darted nervously toward the shadows in the corners of the room.

“No, Lady Aurora is right,” Captain Hughes interjected, his tone grim. “Ever since I stepped foot in this castle... I’ve felt it too. The hair on the back of my neck is standing up. There is an odd, heavy feeling here. Like we are being watched.”

He turned to his knights, his expression hardening. “It is unnatural for one of the busiest counties in the Empire to be this empty. Keep your rifles ready. Check everything.”

The search continued, the tension ratcheting up with every empty room they cleared. Finally, a shout echoed from the lower levels.

“Captain! The basement door is reinforced and locked from the inside!”

Hughes and Aurora exchanged a glance. “Let’s open it,” Captain Hughes commanded.

They descended the spiral stone staircase, the air growing colder and damp with every step. The heavy iron-bound door to the undercroft stood before them. With a nod from Captain Hughes, two soldiers stepped forward and shattered the lock with the butts of their rifles. The door creaked open, revealing a pitch-black descent.

They moved slowly, the beams of their magic lanterns cutting through the gloom. But before they could see anything, the smell hit them.

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It was a thick, copper tang that coated the back of the throat: the unmistakable, cloying stench of old blood.

“Be careful,” Captain Hughes warned, raising his rifle.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and the darkness gave way to the flickering orange glow of hundreds of candles. The sight that greeted them stole the breath from their lungs.

Aurora shrieked, her hands flying to her mouth as she stumbled back into David. Emma gagged, turning away instantly.

“One, two, three... four...” Captain Hughes began to count subconsciously, his mind trying to impose order on the horror before him, but the numbers blurred. He couldn’t count them all.

The basement floor was a mosaic of death. Dozens upon dozens of corpses: men, women, children, servants, guards were piled in a grotesque, concentric circle. Their limbs were twisted, their faces frozen in rictus masks of terror or ecstasy. And in the dead center of this ring of flesh, protruding from a crack in the stone floor, stood a single, pulsating black rose.

“What in the hell is this?!” Ben gasped, retching violently to the side.

“A Ritual! A Ritual for our Savior!”

The voice emerged from the shadows at the far end of the room. A figure stepped into the candlelight, his clothes stained dark with dried blood, his eyes wide and manic.

“SHE IS OUR SAVIOR FROM THE DISEASE THAT IS CONSCIOUSNESS!” he screamed, his voice cracking with fanaticism.

Aurora froze, her eyes widening in recognition. “Henry?”

It was her ex-husband. But the man before her bore little resemblance to the noble she had once known. His skin was gray and clammy, his veins bulging black against his flesh.

“LET THE WITCH OF THE WEST CLEANSE YOU!” Henry roared, throwing his arms wide.

As he spoke, his face began to distort. His skin stretched and groaned, expanding unnaturally as if a massive pressure was building beneath the surface. His eyes bulged from their sockets, and his jaw unhinged.

He took a few stumbling steps toward the center of the corpse pile, chanting through a mouth that was tearing at the corners.

“ABSOLUTION IS THE TRUTH!”

POP!

With a sickening sound of wet tearing meat, Henry exploded. A wave of crimson mist and visceral matter coated the room, and from the ruin of his body, a shockwave of heavy, chaotic mana erupted. The black rose in the center bloomed instantly, growing to monstrous proportions, tearing the very reality of the room apart.

“Get down!” Hughes and David shouted in unison, tackling Aurora and Emma to the ground. “A Dungeon is spawning!”

Malion Town, Malion Dukedom, Western Coastline of Ancorna Empire

The sea churned violently, stained with oil and debris from the shattered remnants of the Conley fleet. Princess Serena stood atop the coastal defense wall, her mage’s robes whipping in the gale, her staff glowing with residual heat.

The battle was all but won. The technological and magical superiority of the Ancorna Empire had crushed the invasion force. The few remaining Conley ships were drifting, their masts broken, their crews raising white flags of surrender.

“Cease fire!” Lord Malion ordered, wiping soot from his brow. “They are surrendering. Prepare boarding parties to secure the prisoners!”

Princess Serena lowered her staff, watching the flagship of the Conley fleet drifting dangerously close to the harbor walls. On its deck, a man in the regal armor of a Conley High General stumbled to the railing. He did not look like a man defeated; he looked like a man possessed.

He climbed onto the prow of the ship, ignoring the shouts of his own men and the warning spells of the Ancorna Mages.

“Do you think this is a defeat?” the General screamed, his voice amplified by Jasmine flower, echoing across the water with a chilling distortion. “This is merely the soil in which we plant the seed!”

Princess Serena narrowed her eyes. “What is he doing?”

The General’s armor began to creak and groan. His body was swelling, the metal plates buckling under the pressure of his expanding flesh. Dark veins pulsed visibly on his neck and face, throbbing in time with a low, humming sound that began to vibrate through the air.

“SHE IS THE CURE!” the General shrieked, his body deforming into a grotesque, bloated shape. “SHE SAVES US FROM THE BURDEN OF SELF!”

“Target him! Take him down now!” Princess Serena commanded, sensing the massive build-up of unstable mana.

But it was too late.

“ABSOLUTION IS THE TRUTH!”

The General’s body detonated with the force of a bomb. Black ichor sprayed across the deck of the ship and into the sea. From the epicenter of the explosion, a tear in space ripped open: a swirling vortex of purple and black energy that began to consume the ship and the water around it.

The sky above the harbor turned a bruised shade of violet as the pressure wave hit the walls.

“A dungeon!” Lord Malion cried out in horror, watching as the vortex stabilized into a towering gate of dark energy rising from the ocean itself. “A dungeon is spawning right in the harbor!”