Mulberry Grove

  The dungeon’s plans all went out the window the moment the human moved to solve its first puzzle, the door that finished the bare minimum required requirements for a trial challenger.

  By that point, the Mulberry Grove, had finished flooding the next chamber, its core chamber, with enough plant life and mana to accelerate its growth in a controlled but rapid manner to finish setting the stage for the farce of a trial it was presenting.

  Before the human began working on the puzzle, the dungeon’s goal was clear. Have the human use his unique skill on its hearth fruit spawn, the mulberries that littered the dungeon, to show the dungeon the way forward for evolving its bonded hearth tree which was intrinsically linked with its core.

  Since the dungeon’s bond had long been slayed, it had been forced to link itself with a not-quiet sapient mulberry tree to prevent any of the sapient races from forcing a bond of slavery upon it using that open path. Unfortunately, one of the very few ways a dungeon could expand its domain and powerset was usually through tandem growth with their bond, something the non-sapient mulberry tree was incapable of.

  With any luck, though, whatever the human created for the dungeon in an attempt to pass the trial would allow it to reverse engineer and forcefully upgrade its hearth tree’s base form, therefore increasing its power and ideally letting it find more chinks in the church-generated prison. Any chance at expanding upon its personally liberties and finding a path to freedom needed to be explored to their very ends.

  The cornucopia which composed the primary component for its false trial, was intentionally set up to be too difficult for the human to completely finish so that the dungeon could recoup much of the required costs for kidnapping the human by penalizing its reward for noncompletion. It had observed the rate at which the creature regenerated its anima and knew it would be physically impossible to fill the cornucopia’s plethora of alcoves with suitable creations within the realm-law imposed time limit.

  Lucky, the realm laws didn’t seem to care allowing the dungeon to get one over on them. Or so the Mulberry Grove thought, but the realm laws obviously knew something it did not. That much was made evident when the human went to merge the bramblekin horns and created something new. Something pure. Something the dungeon would never have been capable of.

  Everything changed in that moment as the dungeon instinctually opened the valve on all of its energy storage and sped up its thinking processes as fast as possible to modify its plans.

  The human combined three previously merged bramblekin horns and instead of the outcome being a larger, more energy dense form of the bramblekin horn like the previous iterations of the human’s skill had made, it had evolved the outcome.

  Perhaps evolve was the wrong word, but the Mulberry Grove lacked the elaborating information about the human’s skill to draw another outcome as it observed the glowing horn in the human’s hands, radiating a partially unfamiliar mana signature.

  It still felt the same level of connection to the horn as it had the bronze coin the human had brought into its dungeon, as well as the upgraded goodberries the human had created, but the elemental wavelength that was radiating off the horn was one that the dungeon didn’t have access to.

  The dungeon had access only to the nature affinity that it had spawned into consciousness with, as well as a small capability wielding the beast affinity like most dungeons eventually learned. What the horn was radiating was something wholly new to it, outside of its capabilities to naturally create. Obtaining it was several leagues more important than the generic upgrades it hoped to obtain for its hearth tree.

  Unfortunately, the rules that were dictated by the ever-present realm laws meant that the dungeon couldn’t just take the horn away from the human. It could only watch as the human packed the horn away and continued to solve the door puzzle the way the dungeon had intended while it tried to change the requirements for solving the cornucopia.

  Unfortunately, with the human already engaged with the trial, changing the parameters for success was impossible. It could only incentivize turning in evolved creations by offering bonus points toward objective completion.

  From there, the dungeon was forced to watch as the human explored the new chamber, having successfully completed the door puzzle by merging the requisite level of bramblekin horn to use as a key, and started fumbling its way through the puzzle contained within.

  Quickly, the human discovered the initial way the dungeon had intended for it to solve the puzzle but was completely missing out on the Mulberry Grove’s new objective of obtaining as many of the ‘evolved’ creations as the human could pump out. It cursed the realm law’s restrictions on overtly revealing its own sapience, wishing it could leave signs with the human language demanding its tithe or at least listing the alternative completion possibilities.

  As time ticked away on the realm law-imposed time limit, the dungeon found itself panicking at the possibility of not obtaining a single upgrade. The human hadn’t even attempted to merge any of its hearth fruits yet like it had initially wanted, seemingly treating them as nothing more than ample ambient lighting.

  As it searched for a way to clue the human in to the trials secrets without having its core cracked wide open by the realm’s backlash, it sensed something. The longer the human spent in its core chambers, absorbing the purest mana and anima the core could radiate off, the more the core was able to sense something off about the human’s aura.

  Each ‘merge’, as it had heard the human label them while mumbling to himself, absorbed a little more of the dungeon’s energy and allowed it to sense abnormalities with how the human’s aura was affecting the realm around him. Almost like a pseudo domain, plainly visible in the moments preceding and following a merge.

  The Mulberry Dungeon discovered it was able to exploit those moments when the human’s aura contracted during the merge, and slip subliminal messages. It plugged frequent reminders about how time was running low, instilling a sense of urgency that it felt the lethargic man lacked.

  When the human finally got to a tier of the cornucopia that required the higher-leveled merges, the dungeon watched with excitement as the first evolved specimen was created. A fungus, of all things, evolved to contain an energy it recognized as acidic mana.

  The dungeon made sure to slip in subliminal hints to try and submit the ‘mutated’ creation, as the human called it, and was amused as it realized that the subliminal messages it was slipping into the human’s aura seemed to be interpreted as a voice in the man’s head that he would bicker with aloud. Apparently, it did not appreciate being rushed.

  When the human then merged two more evolutions of the mushroom, the dungeon was confused and concerned. It had managed to tweak the trial so that it wouldn’t reward duplicate submissions, hoping to prevent a scenario where the human might try to turn in three or four of the same mutation. In trying to guarantee a variety of submissions, the Mulberry Grove had inadvertently locked itself out of exactly that due to lacking the knowledge that more than one evolution would be possible.

  Then the human managed to baffle the dungeon once more, for the umpteenth time that evening, by merging together three of the evolved fungus. It was so sudden and shocking that the dungeon didn’t even manage to impress its will upon the realm’s akashic records to prevent the human from giving the new creation a silly name once more.

  Calculations started running through the dungeon’s mind as it realized that in creating something so magnificent, the human may have guaranteed itself an enormous reward from the dungeon. The newly created fungus weighed so heavily, magically speaking, to the dungeon’s senses that it wasn’t convinced it wouldn’t instantly fill up the cornucopia’s point requirements and prematurely end the trial.

  Even as a small part of the dungeon’s mind spun off to convince the records that it’s brain static wasn’t a good name for the new fungus, successfully swapping the brand new entry over to something far more systematically organized thanks to subconscious help from the human who’d been reading the dungeon’s submissions for names all night, it was trying to force locks to prevent an automatic completion for the trial.

  Wouldn’t you know it? The realm laws were not pleased with that at all.

  The Mulberry Grove tried every tip and trick it had picked up throughout its many centuries of existence to convince the unconscious entity that it was only fair, that completing the dungeon’s trial so frivolously wouldn’t be within the spirit of the challenge, and nothing was working.

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  It could feel the realm’s resistance, almost as if it was rubbing the Mulberry Grove’s nose into its own misdeeds throughout the day as it had flaunted the system time and time again.

  It could only resort to brute forcing the problem, by increasing its reward even more.

  As far as the dungeon was concerned, it didn’t matter how long it was forced to hibernate. It could spend every bit of accumulated energy it had stored so long as it could guarantee more upgrades for its flora. Even if the human didn’t get around to upgrading the hearth fruits, it could try and absorb the energy in the plants that were still intrinsically connected to it and learn new powers that way.

  Learn to wield new magic. Magic the church wouldn’t expect.

  Worse case scenario, it could even try to kill off its hearth tree and gamble that it’d survive another bond’s termination. The Mulberry Grove had survived as much before, long before it was ever called such, and was willing to roll those dice once more for a chance at freedom.

  Though, if it could be helped, it hoped the human would merge another powerful plant that wasn’t a fungus. Something with stronger connections to the entire growth cycle of nature appealed more to its base nature, rather than something like the fungus, especially of an acidic nature, that bled feelings of rot and decay into the ethereal surrounding it.

  After convincing the realm laws that the Mulberry Grove was willing to sufficiently balance out the scales of reward for once again modifying its trial, it was able to dedicate its thought process toward the anima problem.

  The human had clocked it after the Mulberry Grove had, but the creature was incapable of restoring its anima in a timely enough fashion to carry the trial to completion. This was, naturally, by design since the dungeon didn’t want to have to pay out for full marks on its trial, but it was starting to realize that it was going to get even less submissions than it had anticipated.

  The ‘merges’ that lead to the evolved flora seemed to consume exponentially more anima than the dungeon had calculated based off its sample size of one bramblekin horn, and trying to re-merge the evolved creations, which it was sure the human was going to do after seeing how rewarding it was, would cost even more.

  The anima cost was, of course, entirely worth it as far as the dungeon was concerned. It made sure to reinforce that thought through its subliminal messages during the human’s skill-induced aura contractions.

  The dungeon wanted more, though. If it wasn’t going to get an evolved groveberry, which it was still hoping might happen considering it managed to slip it in as the required final alcove key, it wanted a variety of powerful or unique plants to choose from instead.

  The human had already proved its expertise at potion making, which the dungeon had inferred from it’s bandolier of unique potions as well as the careful way the human was harvesting potion reagents on the first floor of its dungeon. It needed only provide the human with the required reagents to make a potion for anima recovery.

  Luckily, as the human was turning in the first evolved specimen to the cornucopia, the dungeon was able to convince the realm laws that the cornucopia was not only a ‘separate room’ as far as dungeon modifications went, but that the mulberry mint plant also constituted a reward for a job well done.

  This not only alleviated some of the fate-bound debt that the human was bound to incur between the two of them, but also drastically reduced the energy requirement to grow the plant and create a few more tools for transporting flora around the floor.

  The human once again proved how clever it was by instantly creating a new potion using the mint and the concentrated powders its kill sometimes produced. Powders the dungeon discovered it was unable to interact after they'd been left over yonder where the human had been merging mushrooms.

  It tried not to let that bug it.

  From there it watched as the human merged plant after plant, evolved flora after flora. Had it a mouth, it would have been salivating. It made sure to keep plugging in messages to rush the human, to convince it that sleeping wasn’t worth it at the cost of progress. It did notice as it did so, however, that something was taking notice of its interference. It didn’t feel like the realm laws though.

  Something older, more powerful, and conscious seemed to be stirring at the pokes of the human’s aura, so the dungeon’s interference began to taper off.

  The dungeon managed to control itself, even as it watched the human complete the first six segments of its trial’s magnus opus. It watched as the human struggled to figure out how to fill the last alcove of its puzzle and began debating which of the submissions it would attempt to grow and transfer its bond to.

  Admittedly, it was distracted when the human began merging the groveberries together, convinced it had finally figured out the true puzzle. Filled both with anxiety about the astronomical debt it would owe the human upon success and also excitement about the idea of its impending freedom, it watched with full attention until it realized the human was only creating a stronger light source for itself.

  Its thoughts spun off several streams after that, spending a large portion of its processing power designing and creating ‘rewards’ for the trial completion and the rest planning its bond-transition and schemes to prevent the church from noticing until it was too late. It wouldn’t be able to start experimenting with the trial submissions until after the human left since it would need time to figure out what each of the evolutions entailed and how that would affect its existing processes.

  While thinking those problems through, the dungeon’s attention was forcefully ripped to the cornucopia once more. The human had placed the enlarged groveberry into the final alcove and the rejection protocols required input from the dungeon. Did it want to accept the merged mulberry, or reject it in hopes that an evolved specimen would be offered.

  The dungeon glanced at its internal timer as it waited for the human to notice the last hint it had been able to smuggle through the realm law’s attention, and decided that should the human notice the oddity that there was still time for it to merge an upgraded dungeon groveberry. Even if it didn’t notice, the larger groveberry wouldn’t offer the dungeon the range of upgrades that trying to swap its hearth bond over to would. It rejected the offering but didn’t force the specimen off the alcove.

  Thankfully, the human noticed. Staring past the mint leaf on its nose, the dungeon could see the exact moment that the requirements to complete the puzzle clicked in the human’s mind.

  It didn’t need a reminder to act with urgency either, the dungeon’s reminders having long since begun to reinforce themselves in his mind.

  With excitement, it watched as the human began to earnestly combine the dungeon’s groveberries again. The number of thought processes spooled off to plan for a bond-kill scenario dropped by over ninety percent.

  With awe, it watched as the first evolved specimen was created after a fifth tier merge, the highest yet. Four hundred and five dungeon groveberries, concentrated into a single specimen and evolved past their base capabilities. The dungeon dropped all thoughts of gambling its life on swapping its bond over to one of the other plants.

  With trepidation, it watched as the human kept going, working toward a secondary evolution again like it had with the fungus. The dungeon realized that if the human succeeded, it would almost certainly be forced to form a secondary bond with the human. One that would be very much in the short-lived mortal’s favor and would weaken the Mulberry Grove’s long term potential until after the creature expired and it recovered from its death. A couple hundred years of slowed growth was still worth it though.

  With relief and regret, the dungeon watched as the human merged two more evolved groveberries, each of obviously different elements and properties. It was relieved that its fate-bound debt wouldn’t be ratcheted as high as it feared but regrated that it’d only be able to get a single one from the human. Without being able to dissect and experiment with all three samples, it’d forever wonder if one of the two it didn’t gain was a better for its hearthbond.

  With confusion, it watched as the human began merging the peppers once more. It was even more confused when it managed to merge together three peppers that didn’t look like it would succeed as far as the dungeon’s internal calculations about the human’s skill were concerned. Then the potion brewing started and the dungeon spaced out again, thinking about its future plans and trying to create three different sets based off the assumed elements of each of the berries. It needed to start planning now or it’d drive itself crazy with the anticipation of the human’s eventual trial submission. It made sure to spool off a few more trains of thoughts as far as rewards went from the human. It’d need a bigger prize pool.

  Then, finally, with terror it watched as the human drank the potion and tried to do something far outside its capabilities. It attempted to merge the three groveberries together.

  Not only was the dungeon sure that would cause the destruction of the tree berries, but the unstable potion was sure to kill the human even if the merge itself didn’t. It totally looked like the merge was going to though. The human’s aura contracted far more than it had any time previously, bleeding its anima pool dry, then its mana pool, all of the esoteric energies that were contained in the humans body, and finally started with its health.

  The dungeon then did something stupid, far stupider than it normally would. It threw the full force of its own anima and mana into the mix.

  If previously it had been dripping a faucet into the human’s aura while trying to pass it messages, it was now pouring a deluge of torrential rain instead. The force it felt stirring before awoke completely, but the dungeon wasn’t willing to stop. It NEEDED the merge to succeed and was willing to roll the dice.

  The force that the dungeon awoke seemed to pause time at the critical moment of failure. The dungeon could feel its self being read, the surroundings, the past and the future in the vicinity. The mysterious force seemed to even be able to read the intentions of the realm laws, the force of power that was above even the gods.

  It was judged and found guilty. It felt as the force bit a large chunk out of the dungeon’s vital energies, inflicting a soul wound to it as punishment. A lenient sentence to be sure.

  Then the merge completed, succeeded even. The dungeon felt the berry’s presence weigh heavy on its conscious even as it dedicated ten percent of its mental processing to preventing its soul from leaking out of its new grievous wound.

  The other ninety percent was dedicated to rewards. It had barely survived the attention of whatever presence lurked within the human’s aura, it needed to make sure whatever it offered would allow the realm laws to spare it as well.

  There was balancing to be had, and the dungeon could only hope that one of the bespoke classes it was creating was accepted. It wasn’t sure that it could survive the alternative.