The soft, rolling hills outside the carriage window blurred as we passed them by. The lush greenery, dotted with patches of wildflowers, should have been a feast for the eyes, the kind of serene beauty one rarely has the luxury to enjoy. And yet, despite the incomparable comfort of the cushioned seat beneath me, far more forgiving than the saddle of any horse, I found no pleasure in the scenery. My mind, restless as ever, refused to be lulled by the passing landscape.

  Unable to restrain my curiosity any longer, I turned to Dungeon Master 07 seated across from me. His expression, as unreadable as always, only fueled my need for answers. "Du coup, qu'est-ce qu'il y a de si spécial à propos de ce Dungeon? Parce qu'il est spécial, non?" ("So, what’s special about this dungeon? Because it is special, isn’t it?") I asked, the question slipping from my lips before I could second-guess it.

  "C'est comme tu l'as dit," ("You’ve guessed it,") Dungeon Master 07 responded in the same language I had used to ask the question. It wasn’t the common tongue spoken by men, nor was it any language from Fiendfell. It was a language known only to those from our world, Frank, the language of those who speak of wine and bread, or at least I believe it once was. Frank was the official language of Frankland, the country we Dungeon Masters were born in, the country I was born in.

  This switch to our native tongue was deliberate, a precaution taken out of Dungeon Master 07’s concern for confidentiality. After all, we were in a carriage with two coachmen who shouldn’t be privy to our conversation.

  "The thing about this dungeon," Dungeon Master 07 began, still in Frank, his tone even more rigid than usual. It was partly due to the seriousness of the subject, but also, I could tell, because of the language. "...is that it’s been discovered to have, as spawns, Mechanical Constructs."

  In our time as Dungeon Cores, there were two main things that the Dungeon Core’s interface seemed to expect of us as Dungeon Cores, three if you considered the harvesting of G.P., the very resource Dungeon Cores are after. But less than being an expectation, harvesting G.P. was more of a goal. The two primary responsibilities we had to fulfill in order to gather that sweet G.P. were, first, to maintain our domain. This meant building it to cater to the needs of our spawns, constructing it as a labyrinth so treacherous that any invader bold enough to enter would never make it out alive.

  The second responsibility was maintaining our spawns, the entities roaming our domain and serving as our main striking force. It wouldn’t be wrong to say that spawns were the closest thing a Dungeon Core had to limbs, limbs that allowed us to firmly grasp onto any invaders and, by eliminating them, convert them into that sweet G.P. that we are after.

  When it came to domain maintenance, we had several options, including manipulating the entire dungeon domain to cater our need: expanding it, shrinking it, reshaping it in ways that would confuse intruders, and creating spots where our spawns could properly launch surprise attacks, something we Dungeon Masters excelled at setting up.

  But the options available for domain maintenance were nothing compared to what spawn maintenance offered. Spawn maintenance was a complex task that could mainly be divided into two major types: the first being the choice of what kind of spawns you wanted populating your domain, and the second being the assignment of the chosen spawns to a spawning point, along with giving them behaviors to follow within the domain.

  This might sound like an easy task, but it wasn’t, especially the former, for the simple reason that to choose one's spawns, the Dungeon Core system interface offered a catalog to choose from. Within that catalog was a list of all known monsters roaming Fiendfell. Needless to say, with how many monsters there were, the catalog easily contained thousands upon thousands of spawn options, countless, if you factored in variations like elemental inclinations, which, for example, made a ThunderFlame Ursus different from a Stonegale Ursus, or an evolution that made a one-eyed Frostfang Serpent something entirely different from a regular Frostfang Serpent.

  If one were to go a step further and consider the fact that their levels were entirely adjustable, the options were beyond countless. Choosing a spawn would’ve been an insurmountable challenge if not for the system interface’s consideration in neatly categorizing them into two main categories: Monsters and Sentient Beings. Of course, each of these had subcategories as well. The Sentient Beings category included subcategories like humans, elves, dwarves, beastkin, angels, and demons. Meanwhile, the Monsters category was subdivided into Animalistic Monsters, Eldritch Beings, Celestial Beings, Deep Sea Monsters, Elemental Creatures, Familiar-Type Monsters, Forest Creatures, Mythical Beasts, Shadow Creatures, Undead, and, last but not least, Mechanical Constructs.

  While I could boast an extensive knowledge of how dungeon mechanics work, assuming that all dungeons of Fiendfell operate similarly, I was humble enough to acknowledge my limited understanding of dungeons beyond our own. Since my first incarnation, my only flesh-and-blood interaction with another dungeon was the one I stumbled upon in that Pass. And to be honest, if Dungeon Master 07 hadn’t reported to us beforehand about the fact that Dungeon unintentionally produced spawns outside their domain, I back then would have assumed I’d somehow been teleported into a dungeon. As dungeon cores, we were clueless about that aspect of us, because as Dungeon Master 07 reported to us, that applied to our domain as well, we just had no idea that it happened. To be frank we never had any particular reason to consider what we might look like from an outsider’s perspective, having always existed as Dungeon cores, so we just never did.

  Dungeon Master 07, upon his first reincarnation attempt, brought some of this outside perspective to us. He taught us what the Fiendfell’s perspective of dungeons was, what behaviors dungeons have that we were unaware of, and how many of them there were out there. The knowledge he brought about humbled me back then, and now remembering still humbles me right now.

  That humility prompted me to ask, "Is it that rare? A dungeon that spawns Mechanical Constructs?"

  "It is rare," Dungeon Master 07 replied, his voice still stiffly serious, "but it’s not really about how rare of a sight it is. It’s more about what it is." He paused, as if teasing, then leaned in closer to Dungeon Master 09 and me, his voice dropping to a whisper, as though anyone here could possibly decipher the language he spoke in. "It has more to do with the fact that, as a servant of the Seraphim of Love, as Vittorio, a Divine Emissary, I am expected by our highest order to be on the lookout for anything related to Mechanical Constructs, whether it be the real thing or dungeon spawns. In this case, it’s the latter. My orders are very simple: banish them from the surface of this beautiful world."

  "Highest Order..." I repeated. There was only one thing that could be referred to as the Highest Order by a Divine Emissary like him: the Seraphim of Love herself, the angel because of whom a fellow reincarnate of ours forsake Might K.R.U.L, our savior and the mission he bestowed upon us. In other and much simpler words, an enemy of ours.

  "The truth is," Dungeon Master 07 continued, "it’s not something exclusive to me as a Divine Emissary and those beneath me. It applies to my fellow Divine Emissaries as well. But it also applies to my colleagues, the High Reverend of the W?hppr Faith and the Oracle of the Keysbrügr Faith. In other words, this order to be on the lookout for anything closely related to Mechanical Constructs is something that applies to all members of the three angelic faiths."

  I kicked my brain into full gear, trying to figure out a possible explanation for this, but I couldn’t find one. There didn’t seem to be anything special about Mechanical Constructs that could make the faiths so obsessed with them. Considering the angelic nature of the faiths, I’d be more inclined to think they’d be more adamant against, let’s say, undead or demonic types, which, now that I thought about it, made me realize they’d love the dungeon I discovered the location of in the past as it featured spawns of both category.

  Anyway, despite my best efforts, I couldn’t figure anything out.

  Despite being as humble as I was, I was confident in my knowledge of Mechanical Constructs, and with good reason. Back in my dungeon core days, I spent hours upon hours, years upon years, decades upon decades, centuries upon centuries, and easily millennia skimming through the seemingly endless and heavily detailed monster catalogs. Mechanical Constructs was a subcategory we, as Dungeon Masters, paid special attention to.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  Yes, now that I think about it, there was one thing particularly special about this subcategory.

  Unlike any other subcategory of monsters within the catalog, the entries in the Mechanical Constructs list were regularly updated.

  From the moment that category became an option, for it was a new addition, as initially there were only ten subcategories of monster: Animalistic Monsters, Eldritch Beings, Celestial Beings, Deep Sea Monsters, Elemental Creatures, Familiar-Type Monsters, Forest Creatures, Mythical Beasts, Shadow Creatures, Undead, it began with just a handful of options for spawns, but over time, it expanded significantly in the number of available choices.

  Coming up with a theory, I glanced at Dungeon Master 07, and asked, "Does the faith’s obsession with Mechanical Constructs have anything to do with the fact that this category suddenly popped up in our catalog somewhere along the way?"

  Dungeon Master 07’s eyes widened as he nodded. "You catch on fast."

  "So it really has to do with that."

  One thing that happens when a "human" becomes a dungeon core, the entity behind the dungeon, is that they’re stripped of many things, but the first thing you notice is the absence of your body. It takes some time to adapt to, but it’s easily noticeable. There are other things, however, that are difficult to notice, like one’s sense of time.

  So, when I said that the Mechanical Constructs subcategory was an addition that appeared somewhere along the way, I simply wouldn’t be able to pinpoint when in our long existence as a dungeon core that happened. And by long existence I really mean it.

  I knew for a fact that as a dungeon core, we’d been around for at least 5,000 years, 3,000 years if I felt a little humble. The thing is, we went 92% of that time without realizing how much time had passed.

  Sure, we slowly developed doubts about it, but we never got actual confirmation of it until we dealt with a certain maniac who kept dying in our dungeon and reincarnating, growing up to a certain age he’d throw himself at us again and again. It was only then as we dealt with him that we got confirmation that as Dungeon Cores, we operated on a strange time clock. What felt like an instant was actually centuries.

  What happened was that we just felt nothing when it came to the passage of time.

  "Did you figure out how this connects to an authority on your own," Dungeon Master 07 asked, breaking the short silence that set. "Or should I explain?"

  "Frankly," I sighed. "I can’t figure anything beyond this point. The best I could provide would be baseless speculation. So go ahead."

  Dungeon Master 07 chuckled. "To tell you two the truth, what I’m about to tell you is based heavily on speculation too." He then continued, "As you both know, I built my career as a Divine Emissary on three major achievements. The first was making a name for myself at a very young age, passing as a sort of wonder child. The second was the strength I’ve achieved in my lifetime. And the last, easily the most important one, was the extensive and unparalleled network of intelligence I built for the faith. These three factors propelled me to this rank, and it was because of them that, upon ascending to the rank of Divine Emissary, I was was allowed to form the , an elite group tasked with handling a particular problem that the Seraphim of Love had become increasingly concerned about."

  Dungeon Master 07 glanced at me and Dungeon Master 09 with a knowing chuckle. I could see where this was going, so I jumped in, "Authority wielders? Reincarnate?"

  He nodded, then leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if to make sure no one else could hear, "But they have another word for those people, those summoned from hell with reality-bending abilities. The angels call them ."

  I echoed, the word feeling heavy on my tongue.

  "The mission I’ve been given as a Divine Emissary," Dungeon Master 07 continued, "was to hunt them, these Hellspawned, to carry on the work begun by our treacherous fellow reincarnate 'Jason.' But unlike him, my mission didn’t just involve searching, it also encompassed annihilation."

  The mention of Shun Nagumo brought back memories. The first thing I have ever heard about that traitor was that he was a sort of pacifist, one who, for some reason, believed that the authorities, the powers we reincarnated with when arriving in Fiendfell, would bring destruction upon this world. He was on a quest to find our fellow reincarnates, trying to convince them to surrender their authorities to him. One such reincarnate he made contact with was the previous wielder of Greed and Resurgence. And of course, there was that authority wielder who was said to have invaded the dwarven continent and made it his own.

  I couldn’t help but smile as I imagined how the encounter with the latter had gone. I didn’t have the exact details, but we knew that it ended with Jason and the Seraphim of Love being driven out of the dwarven lands that this authority wielder had claimed as his own.

  "It wasn’t in light of these two duties," Dungeon Master 07 said, his frustration palpable in the language he spoke, "that I, along with my Executare Vicaris, was stationed for a large part of my mandate as a Divine Emissary at the border between the land of men and the dwarven continent. We had confirmation that there was a beyond those borders." He took a deep breath, his fist clenching as he went on, "But despite that, we were never given the order to initiate anything in those dwarven lands that we knew had been conquered by this . I and my were just ordered to hold the line, on the lookout for any suspicious moves."

  The frustration was clear in his voice.

  I could feel it too, knowing that beyond those lands was a fellow reincarnate, someone who might not have forgotten why we were reincarnated into this world in the first place. Someone who could help us retrieve those authorities that ended up in treacherous hands. Yet, despite all of that, there was nothing he could do to reach him.

  I glanced at Dungeon Master 09, sitting silently beside me, attentive throughout the ride. It was clear that he was absorbing every word, perhaps trying to piece together the complex web Dungeon Master 07 was weaving. The weight of the conversation lingered in the air, so I decided to take a leap. "What about sending me to the dwarven lands?" I suggested.

  Dungeon Master 07 chuckled, a sound that felt somewhat insulting. "You know," he said, "there was a time I considered sending Dungeon Master 10. I should've done more than just consider. If I had, his previous incarnation would still be alive."

  The mood inside the carriage turned heavy, thick with the memory of a fallen comrade of ours. Death didn’t mean much to the likes of us, we could recover from it by reincarnating, but there were losses that simply couldn’t be undone. Dungeon Master 10 suffered one such loss. He, in his previous vessel, had unlocked the longevity skill at an early age, a rare and precious feat. Anyone who acquired that skill and leveled up as quickly as Dungeon Master 10 did was bound, provided they didn't die prematurely, to one day become like Cleon the one and only. That was the reason for which the emperor swooped in, nipping that potential in the bud.

  Dungeon Master 07 let out a heavy sigh, turning his attention back to my suggestion. "I appreciate your offer, and rest assured, I will consider it, especially given the latest intel I’ve received."

  "Latest intel…" I echoed.

  At his words, something clicked in my mind. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place. The image wasn’t fully clear yet, but I could see the chunks starting to connect. "Wait," I said, leaning forward. "Dungeon Master 07, is this dungeon we were talking about earlier related to that authority wielder, that Overlord?"

  As I had finally caught up to where he was leading us. Dungeon Master 07 displayed a large smirk, confirming, "It seems it is. Why do you think I, a Divine Emissary appointed to deal exclusively with Hellspawned, would be heading to some newly discovered dungeon?"

  In that moment, everything connected. It was all linked, the faith’s obsession with wiping out anything related to Mechanical Constructs, Dungeon Master 07’s duty as a Divine Emissary, and this particular dungeon. "I think I get it," I said, the realization dawning on me. "Could it be that the authority wielded by our dwarven colonizer fellow Hellspawned, is the one that spawned Mechanical Constructs as a monster subcategory?"

  Dungeon Master 07 smiled, confirming my suspicion. "That’s what I believe is going on here."

  I sat back, trying to process the implications of what he was saying. I mumbled to myself, "A power that allows its wielder to create a whole subcategory of monsters…"

  "Sounds inconceivable, right?" Dungeon Master 07 interjected.

  "Yeah," I agreed, shaking my head in disbelief.

  "Yet that’s just how authorities are," he continued. "They take what seems inconceivable and make it reality."

  He was right. That’s just how authorities were, they took what seemed inconceivable and made it reality. Having come from a modern world without class, without level, without magic, without skills, without abilities, and most importantly, without the system, I had since my reincarnation seen heaps of things that might, at first, feel and sound inconceivable. But the closer I looked, the more I realized that this world, the magic, everything, followed a certain logic. The system gave all of this a sense of coherence, a framework that made sense of it all.

  But when authorities were involved, that logic seemed to be thrown out the window. And I couldn’t help but wonder if that wasn’t the very purpose of authorities in the first place. Could it be that authorities were designed to bend, or even break, the rules established by the system? They were, without exception, interfaceless, there was nothing particularly telling you that you wielded one in the first place. It was almost as if they were like a glitch, forcing the system to adapt to the changes they brought.

  At that moment a word came to my mind, "...Corruption."