Emma was the first to wake.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she gazed at the green-glowing canopy above, a long moment passing before her memory crashed back.
Suddenly, she froze, her body stiffening as realization sank in.
“Oh no,” she whispered, a tremor in her voice.
Slowly, she sat up, her face flushing crimson from the neck up.
Dom leaned casually against a nearby tree, water bottle in hand, watching her with a patient, knowing look—like someone who had been waiting for this exact moment.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“You got really high, told me I was beautiful, called yourself and Noxie ‘gravitational,’ tried to feel my heartbeat, and then—pass out,” Dom replied calmly.
Emma buried her face in her hands, voice trembling.
“I want to die.”
Dom’s expression softened.
“It gets worse.”
“How could it possibly get worse?” Emma’s voice cracked.
Noxie opened one eye, her grin already forming despite her obvious hangover.
“I regret nothing.”
Emma peeked out.
“I’m going to live alone in the forest forever. Just me and the shame.”
Dom shrugged.
“The forest tried to kill us. You’d be alone with the shame and the monsters.”
“Still better than facing you after I—” She couldn’t finish.
Noxie stretched like a cat, fully upright now.
“Emma, relax. You were adorable. Like, ‘you’re beautiful in the forest light’ adorable. The chat loved it probably.”
“The chat saw everything,” Emma croaked, muffled.
“Everything.”
Dom stood, already moving on.
“We’re leaving. Drink some water.”
***
They followed the trail as the last light faded, and the forest grew silent around them.
Then, through the trees, a light appeared.
It was warm and flickering, like firelight.
And beyond it, the outline of something that shouldn’t exist in a dungeon: a village.
Dom stopped at the treeline, one hand raised.
Behind him, Emma and Noxie fell still.
“Is that…” Noxie squinted into the dark.
“Is that a village?”
“Something like it,” Dom said quietly.
The path led through a wooden gate, its posts carved with symbols that glowed faintly in the firelight.
Beyond it, a collection of small cottages clustered around a central square.
Lanterns hung from posts, their flames steady despite the still air.
A well stood in the center, surrounded by stone benches.
It looked peaceful.
Quaint.
It looked like a trap.
ActuallyADruid: that’s not normal.
villages don’t exist in dungeons.
GoblinSlayer69: @ActuallyADruid correction: villages don’t exist in dungeons you’ve survived to report on.
“Thoughts?” Dom asked.
“Could be an illusion,” Emma said.
“Or a nest made to look like a settlement.”
“Or it’s real,” Noxie said.
“And we’re about to get murdered by something that welcomes us, fattens us up, then turns us into soup. Or steak.” She paused, then smirked.
“With your assets, Emma, I’m sure you’d make a very tender cut.”
Emma stared at her for a beat.
“Wow. If your plan was to scare me, you’re doing a marvelous job.”
“What? It happens all the time in horror movies.”
Dom sighed.
“Ladies. Please try to focus.”
Lume drifted toward the gate, her glow soft and uncertain.
She chimed once, then returned to Emma’s shoulder, pressing close.
“Lume doesn’t like it,” Emma said quietly. Read this novel at novelping.com for the best experience.
“That’s usually a bad sign.”
Dom adjusted his grip on his blades.
“But we’re not going to clear the dungeon and find the exit by standing in the dark. We are going in. Stay alert.”
“Noted.” Noxie fell into step beside him.
“If I turn out to be right, just know I called it first.”
“And if you turn out to be wrong, I’m never letting you live it down.” Dom replied.
BussyBlaster9000: Genre just changed from Ecchi to horror
MomsCreditCard: @BussyBlaster9000 if we’re being honest though the fracture raid was worse.
PixelSlvt: Noxie acting hella sus though.
They stepped through the gate, and the moment they crossed the threshold, Dom felt it.
The weight in his hands vanished.
Not the physical weight—his blades were still there, still solid.
But the edge was gone.
The killing intent, the mana that made them more than just sharp metal—it just…
stopped.
His system flickered.
[Notice: Non-aggression field detected. Weapons have been neutralized within village limits. Host’s combat effectiveness against village residents is temporarily reduced to 0%.]
“What the hell?” Noxie whispered, staring at her baton.
The static crackled weakly, then died.
“My lightning’s gone.”
Dom tested his blade.
It moved through the air with perfect edge.
But he knew, with absolute certainty, that if he tried to strike one of the villagers, it would do nothing.
“Non-aggression field,” he said quietly.
“We’re disarmed.”
“Since when do dungeons have non-aggression fields?” Noxie hissed.
“We are learning a lot of new things today.”
ActuallyADruid: A non-aggression field inside a dungeon?
That’s…
unheard of.
GoblinSlayer69: @ActuallyADruid so the village is a safe zone?
ActuallyADruid: @GoblinSlayer69 or a very elaborate trap.
MomsCreditCard: Dom’s face says “very elaborate trap.”
The air smelled of woodsmoke and baking bread.
It was almost disarming.
The first villagers appeared from between the cottages, moving with that strange, shuffling grace.
Their too-wide smiles were wide with something that looked almost like joy.
“Welcome! Welcome, travelers!”
“Finally! You came!”
“We’ve been waiting so long!”
BussyBlaster9000: They can talk!?
Since when dungeon creatures talk!?
And why are they’re so…
friendly!
MomsCreditCard: @BussyBlaster9000 ikr!!
too friendly, like, suspiciously friendly.
ActuallyADruid: @MomsCreditCard every alarm in my head is going off.
The villagers crowded around them, but not threateningly.
They kept their distance, their hands clasped together or raised in greeting, their huge eyes shining.
It was like being welcomed into a community that hadn’t seen new faces in years.
Then the crowd parted.
A figure emerged from the largest cottage—the one nearest the central well.
It was tall, much taller than the others, its posture straight, its steps slow and deliberate.
The other villagers bowed as it passed.
“The Chief,” someone whispered reverently.
The Chief was old.
Its eyes were deep-set and knowing, and when it smiled, the smile reached those eyes in a way the others’ didn’t.
“You have come so far. We are honored.”
Dom inclined his head slightly.
“Your village is impressive.”
“Our home,” the Chief said.
“Or what remains of it.” It spread its arms.
“But where are my manners? You must be exhausted. Please, come with me. Let us speak somewhere quieter.”
Dom exchanged a glance with Emma and Noxie.
Emma gave a tiny nod.
Noxie shrugged, which meant why not.
They followed the Chief through the village, past the cottages and the well, toward a long, low building at the edge of the square.
It was built from the same warped wood as everything else, but its windows glowed with warm light, and the scent of food drifted from within.
“My home,” the Chief said, pushing the door open.
“Please, sit. Rest.”
The interior was simple but comfortable—a long table, chairs, a hearth fire.
The walls were lined with shelves holding jars and dried herbs.
It felt like a place where someone lived.
Dom didn’t relax.
But he sat.
The Chief spoke as they ate.
“We were not always here,” it said, settling into a chair at the head of the table.
“Our village was once part of a larger world. A peaceful one. We farmed, we raised our young, we worshipped our old gods.” Its eyes grew distant.
“Then the tower appeared.”
Noxie leaned forward, a piece of bread in her hand.
“The tower. That’s the thing in the center of the village?”
“Yes. It appeared one day, and when it did, it tore us from our world and brought us here. To this forest.”
“Why?” Dom asked.
“We do not know. But the tower demands tribute. The thing at its heart, the beast, it sustains itself on the energy of our village. It keeps us trapped here. If we try to leave, the forest kills us. If we try to fight, the tower suppresses us. We cannot even harm one another within its shadow.”
“So that’s why the weapons didn’t work,” Emma said softly.
The Chief nodded.
“The tower enforces peace. It keeps us docile. It feeds on that docility.” Its hands tightened on the table.
“We are prisoners in our own home.”
Dom studied the Chief for a long moment.
“And you want us to destroy the beast.”
“We want you to free us.” The Chief’s eyes met his.
“You are hunters, yes? Warriors. The first ones the tower has allowed through in years. It must have weakened, for you to reach us. Which means we have a chance.”
“A chance for what?”
“To end this. To go home.”
The room went quiet.
Dom’s system hummed softly in his ear.
[host. the system has analyzed the food and drink. no toxins or harmful substances detected. the food is safe for consumption.]
He took a slow breath, then picked up a piece of bread.
“What happens if we succeed?”
“The tower will release us,” the Chief said.
“The gate will open. We can finally return to our world, and you can return to yours.”
“And if we fail?”
The Chief’s expression didn’t change.
“Then you will join the others who came before you.”
Noxie swallowed hard.
“The others.”
“Brave souls. All of them. They entered the tower. They did not return.” The Chief paused.
“But you are different. I can feel it.”
“Different how?” Dom asked.
“You are still alive.”
The words hung in the air.
Then the Chief smiled, a warm, genuine smile that almost reached its too-wide eyes.
“Rest,” it said.
“Sleep. Eat. In the morning, I will show you the tower.”