Dungeon Master of Gods

Chapter 10: Hunt

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The weight of the dungeon core pulsed against my back, sending waves of jagged energy that seemed to portend imminent danger.

Through the eyes of my specters, I saw Eleanor Valcrest advance, step after step, into my domain. She wasn't the first adventurer to pass through my gates, but she was the first to make my insides tremble, as if the dungeon were crumbling before her, a sandcastle before a relentless tide.

Eleanor didn't advance like a scout or move with the caution of a frightened warrior; her steps were slow and deliberate, exuding an almost preternatural confidence. Her sword, wreathed in spectral fire, seemed to absorb the very darkness around it, devouring magical energy with lethal voracity.

It was rumored that, in one of her raids, she had burned three dungeons to the ground in a matter of hours, leaving behind a trail of destruction and an echo of agonized screams.

As I watched her, the murmurs from the dungeon seemed to intensify, whispering inhuman commands: Run. Hide. Escape.

I shook my head hard.

"No. This is my domain," I murmured, barely audible, as if my words were trying to reassert my control.

But the inner voice, riddled with paranoia, grew more insistent: What if I couldn't stop her? What if her blade, the Eye of Torment, not only cut, but consumed every drop of accumulated DE, turning it into its fuel?

Anguish consumed me. I felt as if invisible hands were running over my skin and strange shadows slithered in the corners, as if the dungeon itself were spying on me.

"Lord," Camila chimed in, kneeling beside me, her voice trembling but filled with an almost fanatical devotion.

Her gaze, transformed into a blue glow, was fixed and disturbing. It made me doubt: had I done the right thing in converting her? Or was she simply a puppet, an imposed reflection of my own obsession?

I couldn't afford that doubt now.

"Camila, divide the shadows into groups of three and deploy the Wyverns as harassers. Keep the golems in position until the signal is given," I ordered firmly, though my insides roared with uncertainty.

"Understood, my lord," she replied, but her words sounded almost mechanical, lacking the spark of conviction that had once characterized her.

From the depths, my specters followed every movement. Suddenly, a Guild archer fired an arrow at the wall. A spell at its tip illuminated the corridor, causing the ethereal shadows to momentarily retreat, revealing their nature as shreds of living darkness. Yet as soon as the light faded, they regrouped, thrumming with an uncontrollable hunger.

Eleanor turned her face slightly, and in that instant, an intensity in her gaze chilled my blood.

"Don't waste resources on distractions," she ordered in an icy, almost mocking voice. "This is a hunt. And we are not only hunters, but also prey."

The archer swallowed and nodded. My specters vibrated, and in that moment I understood: she knew we were watching her.

Eleanor stopped. Her gaze scanned the walls, analyzing the uneven patterns on the floor and the faint vibrations in the air. Then, with a smile reminiscent of a predator on the prowl, she murmured, "This isn't it."

And, in an instant, she swerved to the right, just as an illusory wall tried to block her path, effortlessly destroying her.

As she advanced without drawing her sword, traps were triggered in her path, but she dodged them with the precision of someone who had already studied them thoroughly.

My stomach sank.

I'd heard rumors, but none mentioned that she could anticipate the dungeon's every move.

And then, I understood:

Eleanor Valcrest didn't just kill Dungeon Masters; she studied their every move, delving into the mind of her prey before delivering the final blow.

She was learning how my domain worked, how I thought, how I reacted.

Her every step was like a scalpel, dissecting me bit by bit.

A chill ran down my spine. How much did she already know about me? The voices in my head intensified, screaming:

Run away. Hide. Escape.

I put a hand to my forehead, feeling the paranoia become an almost tangible presence.

The core of the dungeon flickered, not like a fleeting flash, but like an eye peering at me from deep within, a gaze that hadn't been there before.

My own dungeon... was staring at me.

No, no, no...

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. Madness was my enemy as much as Eleanor. If I didn't think clearly, my hold would crumble without her even having to draw her sword.

I closed my eyes, letting the paranoia transform into strategy.

If she was studying my weaknesses, I had to show her exactly what she wanted to see.

"Camila," I ordered, with a determination that masked my hesitation.

"They will never see another dawn, my lord. I swear it," he replied, his voice now imbued with fanatical resolve.

"It's time to play with the huntress."

A dark smile touched my lips.

Eleanor Valcrest longed to know my dungeon, and I would have her lost in a labyrinth so intricate that not even her mind, however cunning, could escape.