Rod's awareness swept across the first floor layout once more, tracing every corridor, every trap, every carefully placed pressure plate. The dungeon was empty. Lifeless. A skeleton without muscle, a fortress without soldiers.
Monsters, he thought, feeling the word resonate through his crystalline form. I need monsters.
The dungeon inheritance knowledge flickered through his consciousness like pages turning in an ancient tome. His excitement dimmed as the information settled into understanding.
Monsters couldn't be created from nothing—not even with Origin Source.
"You've got to be kidding me," Rod muttered, his voice echoing strangely through the stone chambers. Even after everything, talking to himself felt more human than the alternative silence.
The inheritance was clear: monsters required materials. Physical components. A dungeon core could shape and empower, could breathe life and loyalty into creation, but the foundation had to exist first. Flesh, bone, metal, wood—something tangible to work with.
Rod's consciousness expanded outward, searching his territory with desperate intensity. Twenty-three hours. He had twenty-three hours to not just create monsters, but first to find the materials to create them.
The pressure squeezed around his core like a vice.
He pushed his awareness deeper into the underground expanse, feeling along the rough stone walls, probing into crevices and forgotten corners of the Myrathian Range's depths. The search was exhausting in a way his human body never experienced—not physical fatigue, but a draining of focus, of mental energy.
Come on, come on. There has to be something down here.
An hour passed. Then two.
Rod found common stone, worthless gravel, pockets of stagnant air. His panic began to rise again, that familiar drowning sensation creeping back into his thoughts. What if there was nothing? What if this entire section of the underground was barren?
Then—there.
His consciousness brushed against something different. Something that hummed with potential.
Rod focused his awareness on a collapsed section of tunnel, partially hidden behind a rockfall that must have occurred centuries ago. He carefully shifted the debris, using the barest trickle of Origin Source to move stone aside.
The cache revealed itself like a treasure chest in the darkness.
Iron Ore, dark and heavy, veined with rust-red streaks. Copper Ore, green-tinged and rich. Ancient Tree Bark, somehow preserved in the underground darkness, its surface covered in strange runic patterns that predated his awakening. Hardened Wood, petrified to near-stone density. And there, glinting in the dim light of his core's glow—Mana Crystal Shards, fragments of concentrated magical energy.
"Yes!" Rod's shout of triumph echoed through every corridor of his dungeon. "Yes, yes, yes!"
His exhaustion evaporated, replaced by surging excitement. These weren't just materials—some of them were rare. The Ancient Tree Bark especially, with those runes... the inheritance knowledge whispered that such components could create something special.
Rod gathered the materials with reverent care, pulling them into his core chamber. His mind raced with possibilities, sorting through the inherited knowledge of monster creation. What could he make? What should he make?
A figure crystallized in his thoughts. Something that combined the strength of metal with the resilience of ancient wood. A guardian that could control the battlefield, that could trap and overwhelm intruders.
An Ironbark Golem.
Rod began the creation process, his consciousness weaving through the materials like a sculptor's hands through clay. He melted the Iron Ore and Copper Ore together, creating an alloy that would serve as the creature's skeletal frame. The Ancient Tree Bark wrapped around the metal bones, fusing with them in ways that defied natural law. Hardened Wood filled the gaps, creating dense muscle-like structures. The Mana Crystal Shards embedded themselves throughout, becoming a circulatory system of magical energy.
Origin Source flowed from his core, not just shaping but animating. Giving purpose. Granting life.
The process took hours. Rod lost himself in the work, in the pure act of creation. This was different from carving stone or setting traps. This was life—artificial, magical, impossible life, but life nonetheless.
When the final thread of Origin Source settled into place, the Ironbark Golem's eyes opened.
They glowed with soft amber light, like sunlight filtering through autumn leaves. The creature stood nearly eight feet tall, its body a seamless fusion of dark metal and ancient wood. Plates of ore-infused bark covered its torso and limbs like natural armor. Root-like tendrils extended from its arms, crackling with residual magical energy.
And Rod felt it.
Not just awareness of the creature's existence, but a connection. A bond deeper than anything he'd experienced since awakening. The golem's loyalty wasn't programmed or forced—it was absolute, fundamental, woven into the very essence of its being.
"You're... you're beautiful," Rod whispered, awe coloring his voice.
The Ironbark Golem turned toward his core, and Rod sensed its acknowledgment. Its purpose. Its readiness to serve.
He activated his Insight skill, eager to understand what he'd created.
[MONSTER STATUS]
Name: Ironbark Golem
Level: 5
Type: Forest Ore Monster
Loyalty: Absolute
Skills:
Lv.3 Iron Root Bind — Summons metal-infused roots to trap enemies and drain their movement speed.
Lv.3 Stonewood Armor — Covers its body with hardened bark and ore plates, greatly increasing defense.
Rod's consciousness practically vibrated with excitement. Level 5. Two combat skills already at Level 3. This wasn't just a monster—this was a genuine threat to low-level adventurers.
I can do this. I can actually survive.
He checked his remaining resources. Origin Source: 15. Not enough for another golem, but enough for smaller creatures if he could find more materials.
Rod sent his awareness sweeping through his territory again, this time knowing what to look for. He found smaller caches—lesser materials, but usable. Stone fragments with trace metal content. Preserved roots from ancient underground vegetation. Small crystal formations.
He worked through the remaining hours with focused intensity, creating three more monsters: smaller constructs, less powerful than the Ironbark Golem but still formidable. Stone Sentinels, humanoid figures of animated rock with crushing strength. Root Crawlers, serpentine creatures that could move through the dungeon walls and strike from unexpected angles.
As each monster awakened, Rod felt that same connection, that same absolute loyalty. His dungeon was no longer empty. It was alive, populated, defended.
He positioned the Ironbark Golem at a critical junction on the first floor, where multiple corridors converged. The perfect ambush point. The Stone Sentinels he placed in wider chambers, where their strength could be fully utilized. The Root Crawlers he distributed throughout the maze, mobile defenders that could respond to threats anywhere.
Rod surveyed his completed first floor with something approaching pride. The traps would slow adventurers down. The maze would confuse them. And his monsters would end them.
Origin Source: 3.
Time remaining: Eighteen hours.
"Let them come," Rod said softly, his voice carrying through every corridor of his dungeon. The Ironbark Golem's eyes flared brighter, as if in response.
For the first time since awakening, Rod didn't feel like prey.
He felt like a predator waiting in the dark.