Chapter 12: Gather Your Party Before Venturing Forth.

The three doors pulsed, smug as always.

Bert lumbered toward the middle one, dragging his cleaver like it was a security blanket. “This one. Middle means boss. Boss means loot.”

He shoved the door.

Nothing.

Then a voice boomed from nowhere, echoing through the chamber with the subtlety of an avalanche:

“YOU MUST GATHER YOUR PARTY BEFORE VENTURING FORTH.”

They froze.

“…What?” Bert asked.

Leo adjusted his glasses. “Fascinating. Some form of cooperative lockout mechanic.”

Harlada, scowling, stalked to the rightmost door and shoved it instead. The stone lit up, then the same voice thundered:

“YOU MUST GATHER YOUR PARTY BEFORE VENTURING FORTH.”

She slammed her hands against it. “I am gathered!”

Leo, sighing, tested the rightmost door. Predictably—

“YOU MUST GATHER YOUR PARTY BEFORE VENTURING FORTH.”

The lava far below hissed in mocking applause.

Harlada snapped. “AHHHH—HOW ABOUT SOME HELP HERE!”

The dungeon obliged.

With a triumphant chime, the crystal screen bloomed into a massive HELP MENU. Words cascaded down in glowing, painfully tiny text.

***

HELP SCREEN

Welcome, pitiful adventurers! You have unlocked the Tutorial Assistant. This feature is non-optional.

* Movement: Walk in the direction you wish to move.

* Combat: Strike enemies to cause damage. Being struck causes damage to you.

* Jump: Yes, you can jump. Try it now!

***

“Wait—we can jump?” Bert’s eyes widened like a child on his birthday. He crouched, leapt straight into the air, and smacked his head on the low ceiling.

-1 HP.

The screen helpfully scrolled:

Warning: Jumps are not immune to ceilings.

Harlada groaned. “This is hell.”

***

Leo, already reading ahead, pointed out a section halfway down. “Look. Loot mechanics. We could have been gathering currency from enemies this entire time.”

Bert’s jaw dropped. “You mean—frogs had gold?”

“Apparently,” Leo said primly. “Zombies too.”

Harlada punched the air. “I knew those seals looked rich!”

They scrambled back to the goblin’s corpse. It hadn’t despawned, unlike the others. A glowing prompt hovered above it:

[Press ‘Loot’ to loot.]

Bert jabbed it with a finger. The body dissolved into smoke, leaving behind a single pouch that jingled with tragic thinness.

Currency Acquired: 5 Bronze Coins.

The crystal screen updated:

Dungeon Shop available!

A glowing vending machine shimmered into being beside them. Its offerings scrolled slowly:

* Healing Potion: 5 Coins.

* Nothing Else: Priceless.

They bought the potion. Harlada immediately tried to drink it. Bert wrestled it from her. Leo tried to divide it into thirds with a quill. The bottle shattered on the floor, soaking their boots.

Achievement Unlocked: Financial Idiots. Reward: None.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

***

Still fuming, Harlada skimmed further down the help screen. “Oh, great. Listen to this: ‘All party members must unanimously agree which door to take before progression to the next level.’”

They stared at one another.

“Middle,” Bert said.

“Right,” Leo countered.

“Neither!” Harlada snapped. “I want the one nobody wants.”

They glared in a triangle of petty stubbornness.

Finally, with synchronized groans, they turned toward the tarnished leftmost door.

The screen pulsed with smug satisfaction:

Consensus Achieved. Door Selected: Progression Recorded.

The door yawned wide, darkness beyond.

They stepped through.

***

They woke gagging.

Chains rattled above their heads. Iron cages dangled from wooden scaffolds, each one swaying precariously. Instead of lava below, there stretched a vast marsh pit. Black sludge bubbled, reeking of rot.

The cages creaked, lowering inch by inch.

“Not lava,” Harlada whispered hopefully.

“Worse,” Leo muttered. “Swamp gas. Methane pockets. Statistically fatal.”

Bert rattled his bars. “I’ll smash us out!”

The moment he heaved, the cage sank faster with a sickening slurp. The sludge lapped at their boots.

The crystal screen pulsed cheerfully:

Level 2c: Marsh of Regret. Attempt: 1.

The cages shuddered. The swamp burped ominously.

Then the first one tipped sideways.

They screamed together as the black mire surged up to meet them.

And with a wet splash, Dungeon 2c claimed its first lives.

***

They reappeared instantly, coughing swamp water in their new cages.

The screen blinked:

Attempt: 2.

The marsh bubbled in laughter.

The cages creaked lower, swamp gas bubbling hungrily. Harlada clung to the bars, eyes wide. “We’re going under again—”

Leo scribbled frantically even as water lapped at his boots. “Note: Cage mechanics based on progressive descent. Likely solvable via timed sequence or—”

“NOPE!” Bert roared. His muscles bulged like boulders in a storm. He gripped the iron bars, veins straining, and with a guttural scream he wrenched.

The entire cage groaned. Chains snapped like brittle twigs.

With a colossal splash, Bert’s cage crashed into the marsh. Black sludge surged up his chest—but the impact also tilted the scaffolding above. The other two cages jerked sideways, snapping free and slamming into the swamp with bone-rattling crashes.

For one terrifying moment, all three were submerged in choking mire.

Then Bert’s head broke the surface, roaring triumphantly. He lifted the cage above him like a trophy, mud dripping from his hair. “SEE? MUSCLES FIX EVERYTHING!”

Leo spat up a lungful of swamp water. “Statistically improbable.”

Harlada coughed, slick with mud. “I don’t even care. Just… never hug me.”

The crystal screen pulsed reluctantly:

Achievement Unlocked: Brute Force Idiot. Reward: None.

Bert flexed anyway, mud sliding dramatically down his arms. “You’re welcome.”

The swamp bubbled ominously. Something beneath the surface croaked. Loudly.

Leo’s quill froze. “…We may have attracted attention.”

The marsh water rippled. Dozens of yellow eyes blinked open in the darkness.

***

The swamp stilled after Bert’s triumphant breakout and their collective near-drowning. The yellow eyes blinked once more, then faded into the mire as if even the swamp couldn’t be bothered.

A pedestal rose slowly from the sludge, dripping reeds and muck. Atop it lay a single piece of equipment: a battered wooden shield, its surface warped and streaked with swamp slime.

The crystal screen pulsed:

Reward Generated: Swamp Shield. Passive Ability: Always Damp. Durability: Questionable.

They gathered around it, dripping wet.

“Finally,” Harlada muttered, wringing out her gloves. “Something that might actually keep us alive.”

Bert snatched it up immediately. “Mine.”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “Statistically speaking, defense should be allocated to the strategist, who is least likely to dodge.”

“Exactly why it’s mine,” Bert said, strapping it proudly to his arm. It immediately sagged under the weight of the mud. “Perfect fit.”

The shield dripped onto his boots.

The crystal screen blinked again:

Achievement Unlocked: Bad Decisions. Reward: None.

Before they could argue further, the far wall rumbled. Three new doors slid up from the muck, mist curling around their edges.

The first bore a crude carving of a rat, whiskers etched in jagged lines. A faint squeaking echoed from within.

The second showed a bird in flight, wings spread wide, distant caws filtering through.

The third was stranger: a swirling knot of symbols none of them recognized, twisting and unreadable. It pulsed faintly, almost alive.

The crystal glimmered smugly:

Choose Wisely. The Dimension of Rats. The Dimension of Birds. The Dimension of ???. Only one path advances.

The adventurers exchanged a long, wet silence.

“…Not birds,” Harlada said firmly.

“Not rats,” Leo countered, scribbling notes that immediately smeared with swamp water.

Bert grinned at the writhing, unreadable sigil. “I like the mystery one.”

The swamp bubbled ominously, waiting.