Chapter 17: Too Many Adventurers (Part 1)

Early the next morning, Zion heard the dungeon entrance open and immediately moved his attention toward Floor 1.

Four adventurers stepped through the stone tunnel, none of them familiar.

Their equipment was better than Finn’s but noticeably worse than Gareth’s party. They wore mismatched pieces of leather armor, carried inexpensive weapons, and generally looked like people who had spent just enough money to avoid appearing completely new.

Zion was still trying to decide whether he should be concerned when one of them spoke.

"You’re sure this is the place?"

A young man carrying a spear looked across the pasture. "Has to be. How many sheep dungeons do you think are around here?"

The woman beside him laughed.

"I still don’t believe it sold for that much."

"It didn’t sell," another corrected. "They only had it appraised."

"For over a hundred gold."

Zion didn’t have to guess, he was sure they were talking about the necklace.

The spear user whistled quietly as he looked toward the distant barn.

"From the first floor too. If they’re dropping enchanted accessories here, imagine what the deeper floors have."

Zion didn’t particularly like the way he said that. There were no deeper floors. Technically, there was a Floor 2, but at the moment it contained nothing except empty stone and his increasingly expensive plans.

Before he could listen any further, another notification appeared.

[Visitors have entered the dungeon.]

[New Party Instance created.]

[Entry Essence acquired: 12]

A second view of the pasture appeared beside the first.

The terrain was identical in both versions, down to the same hills, creek, fences, barn, sheep, and Horned Ram.

But a completely different group of adventurers had just emerged from the entrance.

"What?"

He shifted his attention toward the newcomers. The first party was still there.

Zion looked between the two versions of the pasture, trying to understand what he was seeing. The floor hadn’t physically doubled, at least not in any way that made sense to him, but the dungeon appeared to be creating a separate version of his design for every group that entered.

That answered a question he’d never thought to ask.

If twenty adventurers showed up at once, apparently they didn’t all pile into the same pasture and beat his sheep to death together.

That was good to know.

Another notification appeared almost immediately.

[Visitors have entered the dungeon.]

[New Party Instance created.]

[Entry Essence acquired: 12]

A third pasture opened. Then a fourth. By the time Zion adjusted to watching several groups at once, the entrance opened again.

Notifications began appearing quickly enough that he stopped reacting to each one individually.

[Visitors have entered the dungeon.]

[New Party Instance created.]

[Entry Essence acquired: 12]

[Visitors have entered the dungeon.]

[New Party Instance created.]

[Entry Essence acquired: 12]

Apparently, Gareth’s party had talked far more than Zion expected.

He watched his essence balance climb as new groups continued appearing across separate copies of Floor 1.

Some stopped immediately to inspect the sheep. Others entered already discussing the enchanted pendant and seemed to know exactly why they were there.

One party argued over whether the hundred-gold appraisal had been exaggerated. Another insisted someone at the guild had personally seen the item. A third claimed they’d traveled from another town after hearing the rumor the previous evening.

Zion was beginning to think one hundred and seventy-five essence might’ve been the most successful mistake he’d ever made.

[Current Essence: 506]

He stared at the number for several seconds. No party had even reached the Horned Ram yet. All of that had come from people simply entering and beginning to move through the floor.

For the first time since creating the dungeon, Zion felt almost wealthy.

"This is actually working," he said, watching the instances pop up with excitement.

Then he noticed one of the parties. There were only three of them, but unlike most of the groups arriving that morning, they didn’t slow down when they saw the pasture.

Their armor was polished and marked with matching insignias, while their weapons looked nothing like the rusted swords and worn spears Zion had gotten used to seeing.

The man at the front carried a broad sword almost as long as Mara was tall.

A sheep wandered into their path.

The swordsman swung once without even stopping. The sheep disappeared that very instant.

Another sheep charged from behind the hill when Pack Mentality activated, but the woman beside him casually raised one hand and released a thin line of fire.

The sheep vanished before it came anywhere near them.

A third approached from the side. An arrow struck it from halfway across the pasture. It disappeared too.

The three adventurers kept walking.

Zion watched them cross a section of Floor 1 that had nearly overwhelmed Gareth’s party on their first attempt as though they were taking a pleasant morning stroll.

"That’s not good."

The swordsman reached a larger flock.

Zion expected them to at least slow down slightly, but the longer he watched the more frightened he became.

The man ran directly into the sheep and cut through the entire group in seconds. His sword flashed several times before five monsters disappeared almost together.

Zion’s attention remained fixed on the sword even after the last sheep vanished.

He’d spent days thinking about how to make them dangerous through terrain, positioning, and Pack Mentality.

That man had erased an entire encounter before any of those things had time to matter. These people were a real threat.

Gareth’s party had been manageable. They were competent enough to show him how Floor 1 behaved against experienced opponents, but even after learning its mechanics, the Horned Ram could still hurt them.

These three were different. If the Founding Grace disappeared and someone like that reached his throne room, one point of Vitality wasn’t going to help him.

Neither was Clatter.

Zion’s attention drifted toward the unfinished Floor 2. The excitement he’d felt from watching his essence climb suddenly seemed much less important.

"Sheep aren’t going to be enough. Nowhere near enough."

And these probably weren’t even the strongest adventurers out there. That thought made him feel worse.

If he wanted to survive, he couldn’t just build stronger individual floors. He needed distance. As much of it as possible.

Zion looked toward the empty floor below the pasture.

He needed to bury himself as deep inside the dungeon as he could.