My Dungeon Life: Rise of the Slave Harem-Chapter 1608

After defeating the boss, both doors opened back up. Whatever the Fae had done to keep the door closed had seemingly reset itself upon the death of the dungeon boss. I just which I understood how they did it. The Fae seemed to have a better understanding of dungeons than even I did. I supposed that made sense in some ways. After all, they had been dealing with dungeons as their mortal enemy for many years. They had to have picked up a few tricks along the way.

I left most of the group in the boss room while I went into the safe room. As long as they stayed there, the boss room wouldn’t reset. Once we left, the doors would close again and would open in a few hours after the boss regenerated. I wasn’t sure if the door to the safe room would reopen, or if whatever trick they used only made the exception in this particular instance of the boss being defeated.

Thus, I decided I would hurry. It would be a shame if the door closed behind us and I was stuck on the wrong side permanently. The door wouldn’t be able to open again until another moonlit night. Just looking at the entrance to the safe room, I could see that the night was nearly over and the sun would be coming up soon. I made sure to register with the kiosk just in case, and then my eyes landed on the mosaic. It was the mosaic that was the main reason I told everyone to wait up.

“That’s pretty,” Cici spoke up next to me.

Chance and Cici had been the ones to follow me into the safe room. I admitted that I was quite curious about this dungeon. Now that I knew it held so many secrets, I was more eager to learn about them than I had been original. Since I had to go through all of the bosses anyway, I wanted to make sure I understood as much of the story as I could.

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“What does it mean?” Chance asked. “It’s confusing.”

The dungeon mosaics were just one or more images referring to a part of the story. They didn’t necessarily exist in order, and most of the details on them had been lost with time. The people were often faceless, only providing you enough context to get pick out the kind of person they were. Even their sex was often obscured unless they were wearing a dress or something obvious.

After that, it was all guesswork. I had found I was particularly good at guessing, but even if I guessed the lore being told from the dungeon, there was still another problem. The dungeons were sometimes wrong! Their very nature corrupted lore, so it only stood to reason that the longer they remained, the more degraded the lore would become. Things that were once princesses became giants, and honest men became foul beasts.

I wondered what that spider we had just killed represented. It could have been a house spider someone accidentally stepped on, which with time had grown larger and larger until it was as big as a horse. These kinds of exaggerations, inaccuracies and even deceit came with any story. It reminded me of a few chain letters. One person would send the letter, and each retelling caused the story to be grander and more abstract. It was just that in dungeons, these kinds of stories became reality.

“Master, what does it mean?” Cici asked.

It had been some time since I had last articulated my thoughts on a dungeon story I had encountered. I remembered a time when Lydia, Miki, Celeste, Terra, and Shao would all sit down and patiently wait as I weaved a story out of a hand full of images. With these literal children, I’d guess I had to give it another go.

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“Let’s see… it starts with a war.”