I ignored the cup of tea that appeared with a table beside my chair, watching the Dungeon Master. Oristrella had pulled his chair closer and wrapped her arms around one of his. She no longer tried to sleep, but had her eyes glued to the stone rectangle with all the books on them. In true Dragon fashion, she was completely ignoring everything that didn’t matter to her.

  The Dungeon Master sipped his tea and paused, making a face. He spit the liquid back out. “Guess that’s what I get for not letting Himia make it. Don’t drink that, Badger, it’s disgusting” he said, apparently trying a joke.

  “Alright,” I answered, arms still crossed. It wasn’t as though I had made any move towards my own cup.

  “Sheesh, try to lighten the mood and this guy’s just a rock,” the Dungeon Master muttered, shaking his head. “But, for real though, don’t drink that. It is really bad.”

  “I believe you.”

  He set the cup on the table beside him and was about to lean forward, but found that he couldn’t with Oristrella hanging on to him. Instead, he simply adjusted. This couldn’t have been what he had in mind for this conversation, but perhaps he was aiming for looking like a fool. I had no idea why, but it was a thought.

  “How are you enjoying the Dungeon Inspector class so far, Badger?” he asked, gesturing towards me with his free hand.

  “If I’m being honest, it’s been useful,” I answered, but stopped there. He urged me to continue, and I rolled my eyes. “I particularly like the mapping ability.”

  “Yeah, the Minimap is one of my favorites,” the Dungeon Master said proudly, giving me a name for the magic. It didn’t really make sense to me since I had used it on Brackenhorst’s wall-sized map of the continent, but I wasn’t about to get him started on a potential tangent. “Himia told me you didn’t really care for Knowledge Check, though.”

  “It was a lot more palatable after I learned that it was the dungeon magic doing it and not you and her,” I replied, frowning.

  Right before dealing with Abara and his Endless Moment spell, which had locked the Forest Elf city of Athir in time, Himia had come to tell us what was going on. That was the first time I could confront them on anything, and I had done so about the ability. Then she told me it was called Knowledge Check.

  Whenever I was confused or had a question about something, it had a chance to activate and inject information directly into my head. It had felt like something was physically biting the back of my neck after meeting with Himia, but that disappeared after the first few times. I had accused them of tampering with my mind the same way they had disrupted Ferrisdae’s wellspring by making it bigger, but the Information Elemental had corrected me.

  Like the rest of my abilities, it was based on dungeon magic. The answers I received were stored in the energy itself and absorbed by me, only to be dispensed when I needed it. Any magic I absorbed would last for a short time after I left which, while odd, was a lot better than some guy and his secretary shoving things into my head.

  “When we designed the Dungeon Inspector class, we tried to make something that would be helpful, but wouldn’t be obtrusive,” he explained, gesturing towards my head. “We both figured out how private of a person you were, and we didn’t want to step on your toes. You really like your anonymity.”

  “Understatement,” I scoffed.

  “I mean, do more than a handful of people you work with even know you have a family?” the Dungeon Master asked curiously.

  “Why would they possibly need to?” I asked in return, arching an eyebrow. He put his hand up as if to placate me. There was plenty more that I could say, but I shook my head instead. “You want to know how the class is? It’s fine. I’m more interested in what happened after I killed Abara.”

  If the Dungeonborn had been excited about discussing the class before, he was flat out ecstatic now. He tried to shift in his seat again. This time, Oristrella tightened her grip on the Dungeon Master’s arm, and he stopped trying. This did nothing to damper his enthusiasm.

  “Alright, so in order to get into that, I need to know exactly what you saw,” he said before tracing a vertical line in the air. “Because Himia said you severed the connection point, the magical cord lining Abara to the dungeon he made, but was there more than that? Did you know you could cut it? Did you do anything special before doing so?”

  Loosening up a little, I thought back to that time. Abara had been a tough opponent that could shrug off different types of damage, but still fell in the end to copious applications of Smite Evil. It had been a thrilling experience, one that was etched into my mind forever.

  “When the Mimic had died and returned to their silver ooze form, I noticed a dark red string connecting the puddle to the cloudy sky where they were using the Endless Moment to set up another ritual,” I explained, shifting so I could lean forward. “I had asked Himia what it was, and she told me it was the dungeon’s connection point. She explained that was what you used to change dungeons and take control of them.”

  “That’s true,” he confirmed with a nod. “Taking one over is a fairly easy process, but changing them takes time, as you saw in Ori’s dungeon.”

  “Yes, because that definitely wasn’t a major screw up in every sense of the word,” I scoffed, scowling as I remembered how terrible it had been. Nothing had gone right for the Coldspring Tribe Kobolds that Oristrella called her minions.

  The Dragon raised her head. “It’s a shame Ferry hasn’t seen the new and improved version,” she said lazily. The Dungeon Master stroked her hair with his free hand. She seemed to enjoy his touch, and the smile on her face was a lot more gentle than I thought possible from a 400 year old evil monster. Then, she glared at me with a challenge in her eyes. “I have a feeling he’ll have to come as her mentor, but if it will shut down his insults of my dungeon, then he is welcome to my home one more time.”

  Coughing into his hand, the Dungeon Master tapped her rectangle and she returned to reading, seemingly content to leave it at that. “What about cutting it?” he asked as he tried to get the conversation back on track.

  I shrugged. “It was there, so I slashed it with my sword,” I answered honestly. “Didn’t do anything special. Didn’t feel anything different. I saw a string, I cut it, and there was a force that knocked me and Ferrisdae back. Himia was confused, and then she disappeared.”

  “That’s all in line with what she told me,” the Dungeon Master hummed, tapping the arm of his chair in thought.

  “It was something that was eventually planned for me that I wasn’t supposed to be able to do yet, I’m assuming,” I said.

  He nodded. “You are correct. As you probably remember, your magical affinity is skewed towards dungeon magic. Despite your current situation, it still hasn’t reverted over to holy even though you’re a paladin again.”

  “So you are using that information gathering magic on me,” I said flatly.

  “Please,” he snorted, giving me a look. “I can feel Cheroske’s influence all over you without having to resort to magic. In fact, I nearly cheered when you came in here because it meant we had been right, but also because—”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Enough,” I interrupted, holding a hand out. “I don’t need you to be self congratulatory, I need answers. How can I use this to fight CC?”

  Sighing, the Dungeon Master stopped tapping his armrest. “Because CC is a Dungeonborn just like me, there are very few ways to actually kill her,” he started slowly. “You can starve her out, like Berald had done to me, but that won’t do anything but make her go to sleep. Similar in process to hibernation, I suppose you could say. I survived hundreds of years that way, and she’s way stronger than I am.”

  “It’s just pushing the problem to a future that might not be prepared for it, like how we weren’t prepared for you,” I said.

  “Yeah, which would suck because she’s firmly steeped in the dark side,” the man said. “Dungeon Control, which is what we’re calling your final Dungeon Inspector ability, will let you alter those strings. Like we can. Take them, change them. Unlike me but quite like my sister, you should eventually be able to wrest control of the magic from whoever owns it.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You’re talking about stealing dungeons. If you can’t even do that, how can you make it so I can?”

  The Dungeon Master looked at me as though I were an oddity. I hated it. “I don’t know.”

  “If you don’t know, then how can you assume that I’ll get there?” I growled.

  “Because it’s not just that your affinity is for dungeon magic, but you have a natural inclination towards it as well,” he continued, bringing his hand up to rest his chin on his fist as he stared at me. “I mean, your years of working with them, raiding them, owning one—”

  “Really?” I asked with a snarl, standing up with enough force to knock the heavy chair over. Oristrella’s lidded gaze was on me, her body tense. I didn’t care. “What is with you and Himia? Frankly, I’m sick of both of you bringing up my past, especially in front of people that have no business knowing them. It’s happened twice so far, and that’s two times too many.”

  Looking at me from under raised eyebrows, the Dungeon Master blinked. It was clear he wanted to say something, but seemed to decide against it. “Thanks to various things, you’re very in touch with dungeon magic,” he said instead, his voice cold. “I did some things, offering you greater access, like being able to do one thing, and then also another thing.”

  I glared at him. “What are you saying?”

  “Not fucking much since I can’t use anecdotes from your past,” he complained.

  “No, you’re just being deliberately obtuse, like a child who isn’t getting their way,” I shot back.

  “And you’re any better?” the Dungeonborn argued. “Sit back and let your guard down for once, Badger. Nothing is going to happen to you except that my very tight lipped girlfriend here will judge you harder. I may have messed up with Ferrisdae, I understand that I have caused her a lot of pain, but you, and Cojisto, and Moose, and now everyone else I’ve imparted power to have had nothing but good things come their way. I’m trying, man. Not just for me and Himia, but for this whole damn continent. Even the people that put me to sleep. Where’s your natural curiosity?”

  We glared at each other. I felt the inclination to leave. To grab Tabs and Dalsarel and get out of here whether they were done or not. I didn’t need to sit here and take this from him.

  A little voice in the back of my head told me that I would be wrong to do so. I took a moment to make sure that wasn’t the DTER, the Dungeon Threshold Emotional response that I hadn't felt yet, influencing me. After a moment’s consideration I decided I wasn’t under any kind of suggestion or compulsion to stay. With an admittedly petulant growl, I sat back down and gestured for him to continue.

  “Thank you,” the Dungeon Master said before taking a breath. He stared off into the distance, as if seeing something, before snapping his attention back to me. “It's all speculation, but Himia thinks you're some kind of natural, watered down version of me and CC. Born against all odds, not made.”

  “A Dungeonborn,” I stated incredulously. “That sounds like a ludicrous theory.”

  “Given your…” He gave me a pointed look. “Past, it makes sense, stunted as you were by the lack of ambient mana in the air thanks to the Thousand Year Blizzard.”

  “Still sounds ludicrous.”

  “Then you can argue with her about it, Badger. She knows more about that than I do given that the power to steal dungeons is something CC has, not me.”

  I stared at the Dungeon Master, feeling like something was off. Like he had started performing for someone, and it wasn't me. He was surprisingly easy to read now that I could see his face, but that didn't mean I immediately understood his tells. I crossed my arms again.

  “So I can steal dungeons,” I said, putting that away for later. “How do I use that to destroy CC?”

  The Dungeon Master nodded. Now that we seemed to be back on track, he relaxed and Oristrella followed suit. “What you call the Southern Continental Dungeon isn't just one huge dungeon, but a cluster made up of several.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Your job is going to be taking over the dungeons and wresting control from CC,” he continued. “Her minions are going to be the ones with strings. They're the old owners, or new ones, so you'll have to defeat them or have someone else do it and then get in there before they revive.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “So you want me to use Dungeon Control on places the centuries old Dungeonborn has claimed, just trusting that I'll be able to output enough power to steal them?”

  “Hypothetically, the first ones should be easiest,” he claimed, and I didn't like his use of that first word. “Her power is going to be scattered, and she'll be paying a lot of attention to different things.”

  “And if she shows up to stop me?”

  With a grin, the Dungeon Master tapped his head. “CC'll be too scared to. You can hurt her, and we don't feel pain like normal people. She felt that once when you killed her body, and I doubt she's going to want to go through that again.”

  “Right, she was surprised you gave me the ability to do that,” I mused, remembering our one fight. “And why can't I just stab her?”

  “You can, and you probably will,” he admitted with a shrug. “But it won't kill her. The worst you could do is make her go to sleep. No, you need to take or destroy all of her ancillary dungeons, then steal hers. That will take the magic right out of her, killing her dead.”

  “And that's why you're so scared of her, because you don't have the skill or ability to kill her back since you don't have the power to take her dungeons,” I guessed.

  “Yeah, and also she's a crazy bitch,” the Dungeon Master snorted.

  “Okay, so steal early dungeons because she'll be less powerful,” I said before raising a hand. “But taking her last dungeon has to be near impossible, right?”

  I watched as the Dungeonborn perked up and tilted his head. “We're about to run out of time,” he said ominously.

  “Because?”

  “Because Himia is almost done and you coming here was hard enough to fit in with all the hoops your old ass director has me jumping through,” the Dungeon Master complained. He sighed, suddenly looking extremely tired. “I wanted to talk with you face to face before you left in a couple of days. Would have called you myself if you hadn't asked for this meeting.”

  “Well, thanks for taking care of the women and giving some direction, I suppose,” I told him, still watching the man, trying to figure out where the sudden change came from.

  He gently stood up from Oristrella's grasp, and she let him. I did the same. Walking over to me, he brushed his hand over his pocket and offered it to me.

  I eyed him warily, but I supposed I could give him that much. Our hands clasped together, but instead of shaking it he pulled me closer and leaned down. My first instinct was to jerk away, but he spoke first.

  “Keep it safe,” he whispered, and he touched the outside of my jacket. I felt something appear beneath it, and whatever it was slid slightly downwards before entering my Dimensional Pocket, disappearing. “Don't trust every order you receive, and stay vigilant. Not everyone is on your side.”

  I bristled at the warning, turning it over in my mind, but the Dungeon Master disappeared without a trace. One second he was still in hand, and the next he was gone.

  “What?” I asked the empty space before me.

  “He's putting a lot of faith in you,” Oristrella scoffed. She stood up, letting the blanket fall to the ground without a care, and stretched. “I don't see it, personally, but I trust him. You should, too, if you know what's good for you.”

  “Sure, I'll keep that in mind,” I said, frowning. Before I could follow up, the Dragon in Human form sprouted leathery wings from her back and flew off into the distance.

  “Badger!” Tabitha called, and I turned to her. She had a big grin on her face, and even Dalsarel seemed pleased as she trailed behind. “I think we're going to have some fun on this adventure.”

  I put on my best smile, hoping it wasn't too strained, and nodded. “We'll bust dungeons together, my dear. Just like the old days.”