Chapter 12
"Ugh, my head..."
I groaned, bringing my hands up to my temples, only to feel the familiar curve of my horns beneath my fingers. Panic surged through me for a split second before my memory caught up—Right... demon, dungeon core.
Taking a deep breath, I shook off the lingering dizziness and tried to gather my thoughts. The last thing I remembered was Beatrix pulling me into that unexpected kiss, then an overwhelming rush of heat before everything went black. As I attempted to sit up, the familiar voice of the system interrupted me.
"Level up! You have reached Level 3."
"Level up! You have reached Level 4. Current template being updated."
A translucent panel materialized in front of me, its golden text flashing as my status was updated.
Dungeon Core Status
Name: Azazel
Level: 4 (Copper Tier)
XP: 0/750
Race: Demon
Aspect: Lust
Sub-race: Incubus
Class: Witch Doctor/Medicine Man
Class Abilities:
Dark Heal – A twisted form of healing that mends wounds by transferring pain elsewhere.
Jinxed – Places a minor hex on a target, lowering their luck and making them more susceptible to ailments.
Shadow Bolt – A dark energy projectile that deals minor damage based on the caster's level. Has a small chance to weaken the target's stats.
Detect Juju – Allows the user to sense curses, spirits, and enchanted objects.
Ooga Booga – A fear-inducing incantation that causes hesitation or panic in weak-willed foes.
Loa-Granted Abilities:
Honey Brew – Summons a sticky salve of honey with healing properties. Increases health regeneration and closes minor wounds.
Hive Companion – Summons a bee-based entity depending on the situation:
In Combat: A Bee Knight, whose power scales with the host's level.
Outside Combat: A Honey Medic, which spews honey that increases regeneration and heals minor wounds.
Dungeon Abilities:
Mana Creation – Uses mana to expand dungeon floors and carve tunnels.
Create Mob (3 Variants Available):
Crystal Snakes – Razor-sharp fangs capable of piercing armor.
Fang Attack: Deals 15 piercing damage per bite.
Ability: Constrict – The snake coils around its prey, dealing 5 grapple damage every three seconds until the target escapes or suffocates.
Crystal Mice – Small but quick scavengers with crystal incisors instead of regular teeth.
Chomp: Deals 8 piercing damage per bite.
Ability: Run, Run, Runaway! – When close to death, the mouse gains a desperate burst of speed (+30% to Speed stat).
Crystal Drone (Bee Variant) – Specialized drones for gathering and hive-building, with hardened crystal-layered skin for protection.
Armor: +20 against slashing attacks, but takes 0.5x increased damage from blunt attacks.
Abilities:
Diamond Stinger – Encases the stinger in hardened crystal, increasing piercing damage by 10.
Buzzing Underground – Allows the drone to detect ore deposits and underground threats.
After what felt like forever, the system's voice finally went silent, giving me a moment to process everything it had just said. I took a deep breath and reread the notifications carefully, not wanting to miss anything important. That's when I noticed something strange—my template was missing some key information.
Where are my health, mana, and stamina stats?
Even more concerning was the lack of damage output for Shadow Bolt. A sinking feeling crept into my gut. Was this a glitch? Or was something else at play? Either way, I needed answers. And if anyone could help me figure this out, it was Nike.
He had to be around here somewhere.
I left the room and started searching, making my way toward Room 3. After a few moments, I heard something—soft giggling echoing from up ahead. The sound was faint but familiar, and tension eased from my shoulders.
That has to be Nike.
Relaxing a little, I moved forward and called out, "Hey, Nike, you in there?"
The giggling stopped.
The sudden silence sent a chill down my spine. Something about it felt... off. Heart pounding, I hurried forward, my voice rising in urgency.
"Nike?"
Still no response.
"Nike!"
I stepped into Room 2, where the glowing mushrooms bathed the space in a soft, eerie light. Just as I took another step, something suddenly leaped onto my back.
A sharp burst of laughter erupted right in my ear.
I flailed wildly, instinctively trying to shake off whatever had attacked me. Panic shot through my veins as I stumbled forward, nearly toppling over. It wasn't until I heard that all-too-familiar snicker that realization finally struck.
"Nike!" I groaned, stopping my thrashing.
The little troublemaker clung to my back, giggling uncontrollably. "Gotcha!"
I let out a heavy sigh, my heart still hammering from the scare. This damn mushroom gremlin is going to be the death of me...
After taking a moment to gather what little dignity I had left, I slowly pushed myself up onto my elbows. "How's my favorite imp?" I asked, trying to sound composed.
Nike's grin turned downright evil before he suddenly shouted, "Attack!"
Before I could react, my hamster-sized crystal mice charged at me, their tiny paws pattering against the stone floor. One after another, they leaped onto me—not with malice, but with the unrelenting enthusiasm of a dog pile. I barely had time to register the weight of the first few before the rest followed, seven in total, swarming over me like excited pets.
Just as I thought it was finally over, the last one jumped—right onto my rear.
I froze.
Why... why did it jiggle so much?!
My dignity shattered like fragile glass.
"Nike! Please get them off!" My voice wasn't exactly angry, but it definitely carried an edge of exasperation.
Nike paused, his ever-present grin lingering for a moment before he crouched down beside me. "They're your mobs, Azazel. They'll listen to me, sure, but they'll follow you too. Besides, they're just happy you're back."
His playful demeanor softened into something warmer, a genuine smile replacing his usual mischief.
Taking his words to heart, I hesitated before speaking. "Mice, can you all get off me?"
One by one, they obeyed, scurrying back into the safety of the mushroom-covered room. I let out a long breath, finally pushing myself to my feet.
"Hey, Nike… can we talk? There are some things that aren't making sense to me."
He tilted his head, giving me a confused look. "What is it? Did you do something weird?"
Now it was my turn to be confused. "What do you mean by weird? I don't think so… I just noticed I can't see my health, mana, or stamina, and my only real damage spell doesn't tell me how strong it actually is."
Nike's smile faded, replaced by mild annoyance. "You're a dungeon core, born with a premade avatar." He stood up, motioning for me to follow as we headed back toward the core room. "And you never officially died, right? You went through some kind of… weird rebirth, evolution—something. No other cores have ever gone through that. Normal dungeon cores are made for this job, but you were changed into it."
I frowned as I absorbed his words, and Nike continued before I could respond.
"All the information you're missing is in your core. And honestly, you should be spending more time in your spirit form than in your avatar form. It'll help you expand your senses in ways you don't realize yet. For example, you'd be able to speak over vast distances, like making it sound as if the ceiling itself is talking."
I raised an eyebrow at that but ultimately just nodded, deciding to trust him for now.
"You'd also be able to read your mobs' stats, as well as your own, with more clarity. And as you grow stronger, new opportunities will open up—like creating a settlement race that lives in your dungeon and helps it grow, or bringing in monster races that willingly serve under you. Those would fall under the same category. And now that you have your class, you should be able to create two residents to assist you… assuming it works."
That last part caught my attention. "Wait—why wouldn't it work?"
Nike shot me a sharp look. "Because you're the first of your kind. On one hand, you have an advantage that no dungeon below Silver Tier has—an avatar and potential residents. But there's no telling what's different about you, and that is what scares me."
Something about the way he looked at me made unease settle deep in my gut.
"Maybe it's because I was brought here willingly," I suggested, "and not made for this like you said."
Nike hesitated for a long moment before responding. "We'll have to figure things out. Maybe you're right… but if you are, the other gods won't care. Either you're an anomaly, or a god played favorites. And if they realize two gods had a hand in your creation… they'll be outraged."
His voice lowered, turning serious. "They might even try to have you destroyed."