At first, I was hopeful about the situation with the dungeon. After all, despite the increased mysterious energy due to Drakkan tricks, the dungeon had been operating smoothly, and I hadn't been able to detect any side effects.

After all, with the breach stabilized and gates in place, the dungeon could finally turn into a passive asset that continuously generated mana rather than a source of constant trouble.

Those hopes seemed to be rather premature. I noticed something was wrong the moment the moment I crossed the gate and arrived at the fifth floor. The ambient air was different, the mist denser. Not just denser, but actually faintly hostile, signified by the restless sounds of the insects.

Even without deep meditation, I could sense the dungeon was in trouble.

I meditated on the connection, doing my best to identify the source of the problem. The good thing, it had been easy to identify. The dungeon's ability to hold the mysterious energy seemed to reach near limit. Unfortunately, rather than slowing down the intake, the dungeon continued to absorb it greedily.

No, not greedily, I corrected myself as I felt an echo of a context from the dungeon. Aggressively was the better word. Like the dungeon was running on red alert.

Whatever that mysterious energy was, the dungeon was treating it even more hostile than I had realized. A theory floated to my mind, but I hoped that it was wrong, and instead searched for evidence.

Evidence that didn't take long to discover. All that I needed was to follow the sense of wrongness, and soon, I came across a dungeon monster that sent alarms through me. A mere small insect … but with a fleshy, distorted shell, one that reminded me of two things. The heretics, and…

The dream; one that I had experienced when I had first linked with the dungeon, where I had seen the monsters spilling out of the sky.

A slash had been enough to destroy the monster. But that was just the beginning. Soon, I came across more unfamiliar beetle variants, their carapaces unnaturally reflective, scurried beneath rot-twisted roots. They weren't supposed to be like this.

"Alright, the smug attitude of that bastard makes more sense now," I said. I had expected their trick to be merely about empowering the monster wave, but apparently, the real objective was to overcharge and corrupt the dungeon, turning their presence into a three-pronged attack.

I shivered, realizing the nature of the crisis we had avoided thanks to Maria's timely arrival. Without her, this could have easily turned into a disaster, especially after the nightfall, where the natural accumulation of the energy made things even more difficult.

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Especially if I had depleted the mana reserves of the dungeon to slow down the process even more.

I walked around the fifth floor, killing while observing the monster generation.

The first problem was the spawn rate. No matter how many I killed, they respawned faster than the usual, the mist almost overcharged. But once I conducted a massacre, I realized it was not exactly a problem. Because, once I killed enough of them, the hostile aura in the mist lessened significantly. Too bad it was limited to my immediate surroundings.

And, the fifth floor was almost eighty miles across.

It was unsustainable alone, but luckily, I had thousands I could deploy, which would be happy about the leveling opportunity.

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A quick trip to the other floors showed that the situation wasn't as bad as I feared. The hostile transformation was somewhat present on the fourth floor, but was yet to spread to the first three floors.

At the third floor, I paused, examining the endless fields of decay plants, transforming the previous desert into a bright green oasis, glad that the plantation process had been going on aggressively. The enhanced decay aura helped the dungeon significantly to process the mysterious dark energy.

Without them, the situation would have been much worse.

The only good thing was that, with the gate of the fire dungeon blocked, there was no sharing of the energy, which kept the process somewhat manageable.

"It looks like I can't delay establishing fire dungeon anymore," I said. Having the second dungeon handle the overflow was more critical than handling the strategic vulnerabilities of opening the gate, all things considered.

Still, when I went outside, I found Eleanor first, who had been leading the training of a team of spearmen. "Follow your instincts. The weapon is a part of you —" she was shouting, pausing once she saw me. "Something wrong?" she asked.

I established a mana field around us before speaking. "Yes. Whatever the Drakkan did to overcharge the monsters is corrupting the dungeon. I need at least a thousand fighters there, constantly killing monsters."

"You want me to babysit them, right?" she asked.

"Think of it as hands-on training," I said. "The monsters are coming out corrupted, and I'm afraid of what would happen if a boss monster comes out tainted."

"And, you need the big bad ascended warrior to handle it," she said, her smile widening.

I nodded. "Exactly."

"Fine," she said. "But, it'll cost you?"

"How much?" I asked, unable to keep my smile from growing.

"Ten spars. Proper ones."

"Fine, but only when things calm down," I said, preparing to leave, before I remembered something else. "Also, take a hundred blacksmiths with you, and establish some metal forts with cannons, just in case. Then, do the same for the fire dungeon."

"Really, you think a thousand warriors wouldn't be able to handle it."

"I want to be prepared in case of another attack forcing us to shift our forces. Also, the boss monsters hate such fixed positions, so they will attack them first, giving the warriors a chance to retreat."

"Fine. I'll babysit them as well," Eleanor complied. "What would you be doing?"

"Establishing a new dungeon entrance," I said.

Her eyes widened. "Really, do you think it's wise?"

"Frankly, no," I said. "But, it's better than seeing what would happen if a dungeon gets fully corrupted. I have a feeling what they did was magical equivalent of chemical warfare, and I don't want to underestimate it."

Most of my fears were coming from the dreams I had due to the dungeon. The signs of corruption was dangerously similar to monsters I had seen, which had destroyed a magical civilization with scary ease. While the source of the dungeons — or the System, for that matter — was mysterious, the warning was clear.

The corrupted monsters of darkness were a great, planet-destroying threat, far worse than Cataclysm ever was.

After talking with Eleanor, I went to find Harold. It was easy, as he was rushing to find me due to mobilization factors. "I have just received the word about mobilization, sir," he said. I gave him a brief description. "That's bad," he commented.

"It's one way to put it," I said. "Were you able to get the scouting reports," I said.

"Only the preliminary ones, from our flying scouts. The land scouts are yet to depart."

"Anything interesting?"

"We have some signs of human movement, enough to show we weren't the only ones who thought about establishing a base there."

"City forces?"

"No, most likely refugees from other towns. Or maybe bandits."

I paused, measuring the risk of bandits versus a potential dungeon overflow, and decided a potential planet-destroying, Lovecraftian nightmare took precedence. "That's a risk we have to take. I'll depart in a few minutes. You have the command, and unless it's an emergency, keep my disappearance a secret," I said.

"Will you be left alone?" Harold said, disapproving.

"Unless I take Eleanor or Maria with me, the numbers won't matter," I replied. "And, we can't move them."

That was the extent of Harold's protest. One benefit of being a warlord, I supposed.

With that, I returned to the dungeon, and only spent enough time to completely change the looks of my armor, and hid my sword and hammer in a box I carried on my back, instead arming myself with a spear.

Not the best disguise, but I didn't have much time. I much rather establish the gate of the fire dungeon before the darkness.

After a trip through the tunnel, I was once again in the wilderness, running wildly…