Chapter 250 - My SI Stash #50 - Is It Wrong To Be the Dungeon? by Cambrian (Danmachi)

-The Pimperor Cambrian's new work, thank god for Asanagi's doujins (specifically, the one with the Amazoness)~ SI as the Dungeon/Monsters!

Synopsis: ???

Rated: M

Words: 8.3K

Posted on: forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/is-it-wrong-to-be-the-dungeon-danmachi-si.11787/ (Cambrian)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1-2 (exceptional)

The first time I 'woke up', I was a goblin, thrusting my way out of a wall. It was a violent birth to say the least, followed by an incredibly violent, incredibly short life. There was a man there, wearing some armor, and I had to attack him… but he swung his sword and I died, just like that. No chance to act, no opportunity to do anything besides throw myself into his blade.

But that, as it turned out, wasn't my last life. The next time I awoke, I was a kobold, a dog-headed monster, and I was once again forcing my way out of the wall. It took a lot of effort to get out of the wall each time, but luckily it didn't take as much effort as it would have if the wall didn't seem to already be in the process of giving way before me. As a kobold, I found myself among a number of other kobolds. Together, we formed a pack… together, we launched ourselves at the human who dared to invade our sanctum.

This human wielded a bow at first, firing with unerring accuracy and killing several of my fellows before we could even reach him. By the time we got to him, it was just I and one other, and even as we swung our claws in his direction, he was drawing a dagger that he used to slash across the throat of my comrade, while blocking my attack with his bow. A moment later and that dagger was buried in my throat as well, and with that I died again.

The third time I wake up, I'm… a lizard? A Dungeon Lizard to be exact, my claws even stronger then my previous two forms. I skitter up the wall instead of falling down from it this time, ending up on the ceiling as I crawl along, searching out my enemy, the human who has spawned me with his very presence in this hallowed place. When I find him…

He's distracted, I immediately notice… distracted cutting into the bodies of a group of downed kobolds. I can see my body, or the body I just got done inhabiting, on the ground behind him, the chest cavity of my former kobold form torn open, despite the fact that he'd killed me with a blow to the throat. I watch as he, with his back turned towards me, cuts into one of the kobolds he killed with an arrow and pulls out a glowing gem of some sort.

Crawling along the ceiling, I waste no time in acting on my instincts. Falling atop the dagger-wielding archer, my powerful jaws close over his head, and as I chomp down, I also yank, a satisfying pop answering me as I kill him just like that, not even a single sound, beyond a cut-off shout, managing to leave his throat. He dies, and I can't deny that I feel strangely fulfilled, like the start of something new is coming.

"Hah! Idiot overplayed his hand!"

And then an arrow strikes me in my eye just as I whip around with the corpse still in my powerful jaws, to see another human with another bow firing another arrow into my other eye, killing me dead. The last thing I hear is him running up, ignoring both me and my kill in favor of the bag at the corpse's side, a bag filled with those glowing gems from before.

The fourth time I come to consciousness, I feel… fat. As I pushed my way out of the wall, it was not with the claws of a kobold or a goblin or even a lizard monster. A low ribbit exits my throat, as I ultimately slop out onto the ground. A Frog Shooter, a monstrous amphibian with one large eye, I hop along until finally coming upon the adventurer that has brought me into existence. Or rather, adventurers.

This time, there are two of them. Two girls, as a matter of fact. They're both looking around carefully, eyeing their surroundings with expressions of concern on their faces. They know they're in danger, but the mists are heavier here, and the light dimmer. They don't notice me until it's too late and they've come into my range.

Once again, instincts take over. My large mouth opens, though this time I have neither powerful jaws nor sharp rows of teeth to chomp down on my foes with. Instead, I have a massive tongue that shoots out of my maw, slamming into one of the girls and wrapping around her as she lets out a startled cry. I pull her in close, almost wishing I could swallow her whole… but I'm not that big. Instead, as she reaches me, still scrambling for her weapon, I slam my weight into her, pinning her to the ground, even as I wrap my tongue around her face and begin suffocating her.

Her squirming is delicious, just as delicious as the sensation that ran through me when I crushed that man's skull as a lizard monster. I wanted more of this, wanted more of this feeling of conquest, of control, or destruction. Unfortunately, it was not to be. I was single-minded… and right now, I was facing TWO opponents. With a war cry that was more like a girlish shriek, the second female adventurer nevertheless brings her sword down upon my head, cleaving right through my eye.

It doesn't kill me immediately, but she keeps at it, cutting and slashing in a truly haphazard manner until my tongue's grip finally loosens with death. The last thing I see before I die THIS time is her pulling her friend out from under me, the first girl sobbing in relief, unfortunately still alive despite my best efforts. Maybe next time…

Things continue on like this for… a long time. I can't say how long, because I really have no concept of time, at least at first. I live what feels like a thousand-thousand lives, but most of them last only scant seconds. It all depends on what creature I find myself awakening as, truth be told. There are the goblins and kobolds, the lizards and frogs, and then there are creatures made of shadow with terribly sharp claws. Or massive moths and butterflies with poisons and healing powders.

There are orcs, there are imps… there are even dragons and minotaurs. Sometimes I awaken alone, pulling myself out of the wall into a darkened, dimly lit corridor, only to find an interloper, an intruder, one of those filthy, stinking adventurers nearby. Sometimes, I awaken with more of my kin, from a handful to dozens, depending on the circ.u.mstances. Sometimes my opponent is alone, sometimes they're in a party. Sometimes I get a kill or two… but always, I am inevitably put down, though I find myself living longer when I'm a dragon or a minotaur, then when I'm a goblin or a kobold.

It's existing as those tougher, hardier monsters, that eventually allows me to realize who I am… or more accurately, what I am. I'm able to piece myself together, and when I finally die as them, I'm able to hold myself back and… explore, rather than immediately respawning as yet another monster in this… the Dungeon beneath Orario.

Yes, it was a startling realization for me too. I'm in the Dungeon, the massive sprawling complex of floors and monsters that adventurers in the world of DanMachi explore for experience, riches, and fame. But it's more than that. I'm not just in the Dungeon… I AM the dungeon. It takes a while for that to properly sink in, but I chalk that up to the trauma of my sudden change in existence.

Going from being a human in another world, an introverted writer who shut himself in and interacted with most of the world through the internet… to the intelligence behind a massive, genocidal Dungeon was certainly a big alteration. It took time for me to acclimate to my new environment, and in a way, I imagined that my unconscious mind was helping me along by forcing me into the bodies of the monsters that I was spawning, teaching me what I could do through actions, teaching me what I was facing through direct experience.

The adventurers who constantly intruded upon my existence with their filthy presence, invading my sanctum and slaughtering my defenses so they could delve ever deeper into my depths… they deserved to die, all of them. Or was that the Dungeon talking? But then, wasn't I the Dungeon now? From what I knew of DanMachi, it was commonly agreed upon that the Dungeon was… intelligent. More than that, that it was a malevolent intelligence.

… I certainly felt a little malevolent now. But I was also who I was, at the end of the day. Sure, I had some new instincts, but that didn't override my old instincts. I refused to let it. All the same, some of my old instincts were somewhat defunct in the face of my new existence. I was no longer human; I was a Dungeon. Or rather, I was THE Dungeon.

This wasn't like all those stories I'd read about waking up as a Dungeon Core and having to build from there, farming mana off of adventurers and growing new floors and new monsters based off of that mana. This wasn't some upkeep economy game I found myself thrust into. If I had a core, it was buried so deep within me that it didn't even matter. I didn't get mana from the adventurers that died within my Dungeon either… but I did get SOMETHING.

As far as magical power was concerned, I had an unending font of it, it seemed. My reserves were endless, allowing me to create monsters as I liked, each of them powered by a magic stone, which in turn was harvested by the adventurers to be used for a variety of purposes in the city up above. Comparing this to one of those Dungeon Core stories… I was already in the endgame there, already at the top of what one of those could ever hope to become.

Not to say that my space was endless though. From what I remembered of the setting, no one had ever gotten past the fifty-ninth floor. That was the lowest floor that any familia had ever reached, as far as I was aware. But of course, sixty floors was… a dumb number for a Dungeon as magnificent as I to have. In truth, I had a hundred floors to my name, and the things in my deepest, darkest depths… oh they were truly magnificent, to be sure.

But… it was likely that no one would ever see them, and in all honesty? I was perfectly okay with that. I didn't need adventurers plumbing my depths to stay powerful and mighty. Frankly, the gnats that invaded me and constantly killed my monsters were annoyances more than anything else. After all, they were stopping me from spreading to the surface, from going UP.

But then, I recalled that from the setting of DanMachi as well. The Dungeon… it was being contained, wasn't it? If I focused, I could actually feel the God behind the Guild and the whole concept of adventurers in the first place, Ouranos. Located underneath the Guild in his Room of Prayer, I could sense him using his divinity to prevent my monsters and thus myself from leaving the Dungeon.

That wasn't to say some of my monsters hadn't made it out before, especially back when there were entrances to the Dungeon from the sea… but because of Ouranos, I was cut off from those monsters that made their home on the surface of this world. They were likely all still quite mindless, but they were no longer MINE. That rankled something fierce.

Speaking of monsters that weren't mine… I could feel the Xenos within me. In their hidden places, they existed, keeping away from my monsters and doing their best to search out more of each other in my darkest depths. No adventurer had ever gotten past the fifty-ninth floor, but that didn't mean intelligent life hadn't reached further. Xenos… I didn't like them, I ultimately decided.

Whatever had been in control of the Dungeon before me, because I could tell there'd been something that I had either usurped or replaced with my arrival… it'd let the Xenos exist, lazily sending monsters to try and kill them once in a while, but not even bothering to hunt them as vigorously as it hunted adventurers. It let them have their little hideaways through its own apathy, something that I don't think I'd emulate.

No, I've made my decision… the Dungeon is mine and mine alone. And while I will eventually turn my eyes towards the adventurers that pollute my upper floors, and their Gods and Goddesses who empower them while lounging around all day on the surface above, keeping me contained… I need to start off first by cleaning house. That means the Xenos must be dealt with… one way or another.

-x-X-x-

Ray could hardly believe what was happening. The Hidden Village was supposed to be safe, on account of well… being hidden. But as she flees, the Xenos encampment burning behind her, filled with the screams of her kind, she reflects that they'd never really stopped to think about exactly what they were hiding from. The adventurers from the surface, ostensibly… but also, weren't they all quite aware that the Dungeon disliked them, given the way common monsters sought to kill them at every corner?

So then why was their Hidden Village allowed to exist in the first place? Why did the Dungeon let them get away with said village, if it was truly out to get them? The answers to those questions, whatever they were, seemed to be entirely moot now, because it was clear that the Dungeon had decided to enact a purge. Perhaps if she'd just been by herself, she could have taken to the air and fled to a different level… but as it was, the Siren was stuck on the ground, dragging Arles along behind her.

The white-furred, red-eyed Almiraj Xenos was stumbling as they rushed away from the Hidden Village, her broken pocket watch bouncing with every fast-paced step, her large scavenged jacket fluttering behind her. Almiraj were supposed to be fast, but she'd been clipped early on by a Troll's landform club, leaving her limping and even whimpering at the pace that Ray was forcing her to take.

Still, they had to get away. The Siren Xenos knew that if she didn't get them out of here, they would be just as dead as the others. She'd watched Gros get swarmed by a number of monsters, and the last thing she'd seen of him was blood caking the left side of his face as the Gargoyle told her to take Arles and run. So, that was what she was doing… or at least, it was what she was trying to do.

The Siren's plan involves escaping through the nineteenth floor and finding her way to the eighteenth with Arles at her side. If they can just make it to the safe floor, then the only thing they'll have to contend with is the humans who hunt them on a regular basis anyways. Better to face those humans then the Dungeon, was Ray's reasoning.

But just as she's dragging Arles off of the twentieth floor and onto the nineteenth, Ray finds herself having to skid to a halt, her way blocked by a veritable army of monsters. From bugbears to battle boats, from Lizardmen to Firebirds… they're everywhere. She can't escape, or rather, they can't escape. So long as she insists on taking Arles with her, she's never going to manage to get away.

And yet, even as this certainty crystalizes in the Siren Xenos' mind, her beautiful golden feathers near standing on end from the concentration of INTENT directed her and Arles' way… she does not give into fear. Out of all three of the Xenos' leaders, Ray was probably the warmest, the friendliest. She was kind, sometimes to a fault, and cared a great deal for the well-being of her kind. She would go to any length to protect her kin.

If Gros hadn't told her to take Arles and flee when he had, she would have stayed back and fought to the end alongside the rest of them. But now it seemed her final battle would take place here instead, with only Arles at her side. Pursing her lips together in a thin line, the Siren straightens her back, flaring her nostrils… and prepares for battle as she changes from warm and friendly to bloodthirsty and murderous in an instant.

Not that it does her much good. Oh certainly, she fights. She fights, and she evil kills, though the Xenos doesn't truly view the mindless monsters of the Dungeon, so lacking in the intelligence of her kind, as being truly alive. For someone like her, a monster who could think and talk and laugh and live, who could long for the sun on her feathers, those mindless automatons were even less in her eyes then they likely were in the eyes of adventurers.

But they still defeated her, in the end. And yet, to Ray's surprise, they did not kill her. Nor did they kill Arles. They secured the two of them, taking the two female Xenos captive and dragging them down… down… and down some more. At some point, she succ.u.mbs to her injuries and falls unconscious for a time. When she wakes up again, her surroundings have changed entirely.

Wherever the monsters have brought her and Arles… it's not like any part of the Dungeon Ray has ever seen before. She can only gape at the undulating, breathing walls around her, the way that veiny appendages float off of them, questing through the air as if looking for something. Or rather… someone. Ray squawks as she's thrown into one of these walls face first, Arles tossed beside her.

The wall, as it turns out, is a portal of sorts. Ray finds herself dragged through, coming out the other side, only to stop dead as the tentacles hold her fast. Arles ends up beside her, held in the wall as well, appendages of all shapes and sizes clutching at them, pulling their clothes off, stripping them down. As Ray's eyes adjust to the dim light, she's horrified by what she sees.

There, in the walls all around them, the entire fleshy chamber jampacked… are her fellow female Xenos. There's Laura, a Goblin Xenos, though her red hat is nowhere to be found. There's Fear, a Harpy Xenos, crying and writhing in her own bondage. There's Ranye, an Arachne Xenos, her upper body that of a beautiful human woman and her lower half that of a spider. She's always had a harsh, stubborn sort of personality, being completely unwilling to trust adventurers, given their actions towards their kind. And yet, now it's the Dungeon itself that's trapped her, holding her fast just like the rest of them.

And then there are female Xenos that Ray doesn't even recognize. Oh, she always knew that there had to be more than just their Hidden Village, but it's still a surprise. There's a mermaid Xenos, for instance, that is crying and wailing and squirming as well, only to be silenced by an appendage thrusting itself right down her throat. There were many, many more then just her to, all of them trapped in the walls of this massive, fleshy chamber… just as Ray herself was.

The more she looks, the more fear the Siren Xenos feels. And then she begins to feel the physical touch of the Dungeon as it prepares to do to her and Arles what it's already doing to all of her kin. Tentacles slide up their legs, and along their arms, moving to their private parts. Ray gasps and shudders as the molestation begins, unsure of what the ultimate goal here might be.

But whatever that ultimate goal is, the Dungeon's short term intentions are obvious, as the tentacles begin to penetrate her orifices, just as they're penetrating the orifices of every other Xenos in the room. She cries out, her melodic voice echoing through the chamber and drawing many eyes as her cunt is taken, filled with one of the appendages. Ray feels shame, able to see the despair and heartache in the eyes of those from her village, those she was supposed to lead, supposed to protect.

Beside her, Arles is squealing, the white-furred Almiraj struggling, but in the end, she can't do anything, none of them can do anything. Their mouths are soon occupied just like the mermaid Xenos that Ray doesn't recognize, all of them silences and pulled all the more securely up against the walls of this hell they find themselves in, as they're mercilessly used and f.u.c.k.i.e.d nonstop by the Dungeon itself.

-x-X-x-

It takes quite a lot to take down the Siren, which from what I can tell is just a Harpy with some sort of sound wave attack. But with endless resources at my command, she fell as easily as all the rest, in the end. After that, putting her and the Almiraj to work in my new farm was simple enough. I'd developed this part of the Dungeon for a very specific purpose… breeding.

It was a cross between a farm and a laboratory, at the end of the day. I wanted to know what I could do with the female Xenos, because truth be told, I was loath to kill such s.e.xy, fine-ass monster girls. The monster 'guys' so to speak, I'd slaughtered to the last. There no longer existed a single male Xenos within me, not on any of my hundred floors.

Honestly, it was probably for the best that I'd enacted the purge when I did. The strongest of the Xenos I'd killed and captured had been comparable to a Level Five adventurer, if I had to guess based off of what data I'd managed to acc.u.mulate so far. The Siren Xenos that I was f.u.c.k.i.n.g even now, was undoubtedly the strongest female Xenos, and that village of theirs on the twentieth floor of MY Dungeon had had two more male Xenos that were also around Level Five, to use the system they used up top.

But those weren't the strongest Xenos I'd purged today. There were more powerful monsters who had been born with their own will and their own intelligence, deeper in my depths. Past Floor Fifty-Nine, there existed creatures that could not have a level put to them, mostly because I had no adventurer to compare their power to. They would have easily slaughtered a Level Seven, I was pretty sure… but in the end, the weight of the Dungeon itself turned against them left them broken and destroyed as I created monsters in the lowest of my floors that no human had laid eyes on… possibly ever.

Unfortunately, none of them were female. All were male, and so all of them died. The females were the only ones I left live, solely so that I could test certain things. I was going to breed these female Xenos and see what sort of monsters I could create off of them. Would they all have their own intelligence, or would they be mine to control? Was it possible that I could dominate their minds, taking control of them and building an army of even stronger monsters over time?

I could create some truly powerful monstrosities… but only in my depths. I was limited in a way, after all, by whatever system or intelligence had come before me. If I wanted to make a Minotaur that could contend with a Level Five for instance… I couldn't. Not yet, anyways. Or if I wanted to make a goblin horde capable of bringing even the strongest adventurer to heel, that too was out of my reach.

But maybe with some time, and some experimentation, I could do something. Maybe, if I played around with it some more, I could change the face of this world. Not necessarily for the better… though in the end, I figured it really depended on who you were asking. Certainly, for the better… for me.

-x-X-x-

A/N: Alright, putting this author's note at the end so as to not taint the reader's view before they've read the piece. If you've gotten this far, I definitely want your opinion.

Is this worth continuing? I'm really not sure if I have something here or not. I do have some ideas, mostly based around concepts from the hentai doujin "Jezebel Amazones" by Asanagi.

Chapter 2

A/N: Here's Chapter two. Featuring three characters from Danmachi's browser game, to ease ourselves into things. Today's stars are:

Emma Flores, Iris Bennett, and Oriana Drake!

I did not manage to involve a male adventurer in the fun though this chapter. Probably going to cover that next chapter, I suppose. I think I can still make it Ged Raish, and perhaps Liliruca is with him... but should Lili manage to escape and leave Ged to 'die' or should she be captured as well...

As always, hope you all enjoy and I'm definitely still looking for feedback and suggestions and all that good stuff!

-x-X-x-

"Don't slack off girls! You're the ones that wanted to come this far down with me, so I'm expecting you both to pull your weight. Otherwise, you're no better than a pair of glorified Supporters~"

Oriana Drake's words might seem harsh, but in truth there's a teasing not to them and no real heat behind what she's saying. That doesn't stop Emma Flores, one of the two women she's talking to, from puffing up a little indignantly, pushing out her chest and straightening her back as she squares her shoulders.

"Oi! You don't need to worry about us, Oriana! We can handle ourselves just fine, even down here on the tenth floor! Isn't that right, Iris?"

The last of their little three-woman party, Iris Bennett, smiles and nods, causing the large cowbell around her neck to jingle ever so slightly. Even down here in the Dungeon, where stealth was usually preferred, Iris continued to wear it. Still, neither of the other women brought it up… even if they both secretly thought it was a little perverse for a cow girl to be wearing a bell around her neck like… like some beast.

Regardless, she wasn't a beast, despite her cow-like features. The horns atop her head, the ears right beneath them, and the tail swishing back and forth behind her might have marked her as a cow girl, but the sword sheathed at the small of her back marked her as an adventurer, just like the two women she was with. All three of them were adventurers, and they were down here on the tenth floor of the Dungeon to do what adventurers did best… kill monsters, collect magic stones, and level up!

Or at least, that was what was going through Emma Flores head as she licked her lips, looking around curiously. Despite being the Captain of their little Familia, she was only Level One still… while Oriana was Level Two. But then to be fair, the golden-haired, blue-eyed Knight had come to them from another Familia through what was known as a conversion.

Even if she'd been teasing them before, it really was thanks to her that Emma and Iris could even come down this far. Otherwise, Emma wouldn't have risked going any further then say, Floor Eight or Nine. And that was WITH Iris by her side, without the cow girl, if she were say, alone, she would have stuck to the top seven floors of the Dungeon for sure.

But then, that was how the Dungeon worked. The further down you got; the more dangerous things would be. And that was where parties came into play as well. The more people you could gather, so long as you had good teamwork and fought together well, the further down you could go together. A party was a force multiplier, allowing Level One adventurers like her and Iris to follow Level Twos like Oriana down to the tenth floor… and perhaps even lower.

Though, that all depended on how things went here, first and foremost. Something Oriana brings up as the Knight gets down to business.

"Right, so it's like this. On the tenth floor, we should encounter mostly Orcs, Imps, and some Bad Bats. We'll kill some of those for a while, and if I feel like you two are up for it, then we'll try Floor Eleven, where we might run into a Silverback or Hard Armored. Just… remember to rely on my experience, okay? With a party like ours, Floors One through Nine were a breeze… but now it's time to get serious."

Emma and Iris both nod at that, trusting in their Familia's only Level Two to have the expertise to see them through. After all, Oriana had a Monster Rex Goliath under her belt, from her time with her previous Familia. There was no doubt that the Level Two knew what she was talking about, at least when it came to the first seventeen floors of the Dungeon.

Just as she's finishing what she was saying, there's a sudden sound up ahead in the mist. And then there are a whole bunch of red eyes, causing Emma to tense up as her comrades do the same. In unison, Emma, Iris, and Oriana all draw their weapons. For Emma, it's a pair of twin swords. For Iris, a single short sword. And for Oriana, a big, nasty multi-pronged spear.

Oriana is definitely the tank of the party and would be even without her higher level. She's got the most armor after all, while both Emma and Iris are currently wearing skirts, and not even a b.r.e.a.s.tplate between them. Still, this was because they were both agility types, the sort to move fast and avoid any and all hits where they could. Not like Oriana, who as a Knight, strove to plant her feet, stand tall, and take on all comers from where she stood, weathering the storm until her spear had ended her enemies.

All the same… they were a team, despite any differences in their fighting styles. And in the end, they knew each other well enough that they complemented each other, rather than getting in one another's ways. Even as Emma stares at the hulking orcs with their pig-like snouts striding out of the darkness and mist of the tenth floor, she calms her nerves, knowing that together, the three of them can definitely take on this challenge, no matter what.

"Ready girls? Let's go!"

-x-X-x-

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the Dungeon, along with muffled screams and squealing. There's also the incessant jingling of a cowbell going up and down. It's in the midst of this that Oriana Drake's spear falls from her grasp, the Level Two adventurer finally succ.u.mbing to exhaustion and falling to her hands and knees.

"No! N-No, s-stop! NOOOOOO!!!"

There's a ripping sound, and then a thrusting squelch. Oriana can only watch, wide-eyed and horrified as she takes in the scene in front of her. It… things weren't supposed to go like this. She'd never heard of anything like this happening in the Dungeon before. If anything… t-they were supposed to die, not… not this.

In front of her, her friends, her allies, her familia… are currently being defiled. At first, the orcs had seemed more than manageable. Together, she, Iris, and Emma had dealt with around ten of the beasts, in waves of two or three. They'd killed them as they came, harvesting their magic stones. But then… then things had gotten bad. Out of the mists had come a whole troupe of orcs, over a dozen of them all at once.

Even this shouldn't have been impossible for them to handle. After all, Oriana was Level Two, and neither Emma nor Iris were slouches for still being Level Ones. But along with the twelve orcs had come dozens of imps. The little demons, around half the size of most adventurers, had scattered and begun to make nuisances of themselves, even as they'd sprayed some sort of gas into the air.

It wasn't until Iris had dropped her sword and fallen to her knees with a wanton m.o.a.n that Oriana had realized something was truly wrong. Something about the Dungeon had fundamentally changed. She'd tried to go to help the cow girl, only for more and more orcs to show up and cut her off. She must have killed dozens, but it didn't stop one of the orcs who Iris had been fighting from picking the cowgirl up and tearing off her clothing.

And the worst part was, the cow girl hadn't even fought it. She'd tossed away her weapon, letting the orc tear her light wool sweater off of her body, along with her belt, her green skirt, and her leggings. At this point, all she was wearing were her sleeves… and that damnable cowbell, bouncing up and down with the rest of her as the orc bounces HER up and down on his massive, bulbous green member.

Iris has her arms wrapped around the orc's neck as he sits there, letting her ride him… and ride him she does, squealing and screaming into his mouth, their tongues dueling with one another, her ass bouncing and jiggling with the rest of her in very purposeful, seemingly consensual motions. But no, Iris… Iris was no s.l.u.t, she w-wasn't a pervert. O-or at least, Oriana didn't think so.

Only… Emma seemed to be having a very different reaction to whatever it was the imps had dosed them with. The pink-haired girl, the Captain of their Familia, had ultimately been pinned down by one of the orcs, her twin swords sent scattering across the ground. She was red-faced and fl.u.s.tered to be sure, but still she fought, even as the orc used it's massive weight and overwhelming strength to hold the agility-focused adventurer down beneath him.

Her legs are spread, and her skirt has been torn, along with her panties. From the way the orc is humping away, even if Oriana can't quite see the exact place where they're joined from her position… she knows that Emma is currently being abused, being f.u.c.k.i.e.d, being r.a.p.ed. It's just… this shouldn't be possible. This shouldn't be happening.

Monsters in the Dungeon don't **** adventurers. They kill them, sure. Any monster, even a lowly goblin or kobold, would gladly kill any adventurer dead if given half an opportunity, no matter what race or gender. But the fact that the Dungeon had always only killed before had always been the great equalizer.

Whether you were woman or man didn't matter, because in the end all that really counted was your Level and your Stats. Oh sure, there were misogynistic, chauvinistic male adventurers out there who tried to look down upon female adventurers. Hell, there were even Gods like that, Oriana knew. But it wasn't supposed to matter, because the Dungeon treated all interlopers the same.

… Until now.

Oriana's view of Iris and Emma's defilement and degradation is suddenly blocked off, obscured by one of the small imps suddenly standing in front of her defeated form. She blinks up at him, still on her hands and knees, still utterly exhausted… and thus, is not able to dodge in time as he cackles at her and then coughs a fresh cloud of that gas, right into her face.

Unable to help herself, Oriana reflexively inhales, far too late to try and hold her breath as her nostrils flare. She'd been feeling the effects of whatever it was they were lacing the air with throughout the fight, to be fair. It'd made her feel warm and a bit fuzzy around the edges, and her gaze had flickered to the orcs' loincloths far more than was appropriate.

After Iris had gone down and then… submitted to the monster she was currently riding, Oriana had glanced over at that scene of debauchery more times then was appropriate during the fight as well. Her excuse was that she was worried for the cow girl, which of course, she was… but still…

With a concentrated dose of the gas going right up her nose and into her lungs, all Oriana can do is cough uselessly as the effects are magnified ten fold for her in that moment. Her entire body spasms, and a gasp leaves her lips, followed by a truly wanton m.o.a.n. She shakes her head, trying to ignore the effects, trying to fight them off… only for the imp in front of her to suddenly shove his c.o.c.k into her face, slapping it against her cheek and rubbing it all over her features.

Oriana whimpers, her lips instinctively parting and her tongue slipping out to try and get a lick of the monster's d.i.c.k. It's not very knightly behavior, she knows that deep down inside… but with the concentrated dose suffusing her being, it's getting harder and harder to think straight. And at this point, neither Iris' muffled squealing and screaming as she screams herself, nor Emma's crying and begging for it to stop as she sobs to herself, are helping matters. In fact, both women's reactions to their defilement… turn Oriana on tremendously.

When the Imp grabs her by her golden-haired ponytail and thrusts his c.o.c.k into her mouth, the female Knight sucks. She sucks enthusiastically, slurping and winding her tongue around his c.o.c.k, because f.u.c.k her ideals, f.u.c.k her honor… it was f.u.c.k.i.n.g delicious, and she wanted more of it. For a while, her entire world zeroes down to sucking this monster's d.i.c.k. This monster, who she could have easily killed in a one on one fight. But that doesn't matter, not anymore.

Vaguely, Oriana is aware of more of the small demons crowding around her kneeling form. Their tiny hands begin to work at the straps of her armor, removing her b.r.e.a.s.tplate, her greaves, her gauntlets… all of it. They take it off of her piece by piece, and then they tear her clothes away from her body with their tiny claws for good measure.

Oriana can only m.o.a.n at the rough treatment, her eyes lidded in pleasure as she continues to dutifully suck the imp d.i.c.k in her mouth. That particular imp growls, holding onto her hair with both hands now, greedily humping away at her face. With how energetic he is, Oriana can be excused for failing to notice the one getting into position behind her, surely. She only realizes he's there when he finally grabs hold of her h.i.p.s and thrusts forward, penetrating her cunt from behind.

A muffled squeal emits from the Lady Knight's mouth as she's spit-roasted between the two monsters, f.u.c.k.i.e.d from both ends by the imps. But of course, that's far from the end of her disgrace and degradation. Her hands are yanked up and soon wrapped around the c.o.c.ks of two more imps, and in the midst of her mind broken l.u.s.t, Oriana happily, gladly even, jerks them both off. Her motions are inexperienced of course, but that doesn't seem to be something the monsters mind all that much.

Eventually, even her final orifice is taken, not even that last bit of her dignity left to the beleaguered adventurer. A fifth imp jump up onto her back, gripping her ass and resting his feet on either side of her h.i.p.s as he crouches, and a moment later his c.o.c.k is inside of her back door, stretching her anus wide. It's painful, and for a moment the pain breaks through the haze of pleasure as Oriana's blue eyes widen and she fully realizes the situation she and the other two are in.

But the moment she begins to fight, the moment she yanks the two imps in her hands closer to her and starts to struggle, every single one of the damnable little beasts coughs on her, expelling more of the gas into her face, across her n.a.k.e.d body. She inhales plenty to put her back into a pliable state once again, leaving her m.o.a.ning and mewling like one of Ishtar's whores, rather than the Knight she's supposed to be.

Eventually, the imps c.u.m, both filling her holes and covering her body. She's passed over to an orc after that, and f.u.c.k.i.e.d face first into the ground, plowed mercilessly from behind as she squeals and shrieks and groans and m.o.a.ns, almost begging for it, though luckily, she can't find the actual words to do so. Emma though… Emma has had a change of tune, while Oriana was distracted with her imp gangbang.

"Oh yes! F.u.c.k me harder, Mister Orc! Give it to me! OH! OH! OH!!!"

The Captain of their Familia is currently riding one of the orcs reverse cowgirl now, her beautiful pink dress mostly torn from her at this point. She has one of her arms reaching back to wrap around the orc's fat neck, even as he holds her by the waist, bouncing her up and down on his c.o.c.k. There's a truly stupid look of pleasure and ecstasy on Emma's face, eyes rolled back in her head, tongue lolling out of her mouth, even as she continues to beg for more. The pink-haired, pink-eyed adventurer is completely disgracing herself… not that Oriana is judging her, nor does the Level Two have room to judge.

"I don't care about my sister anymore! I don't care about anything up there! I just want to get FUUUUUCKED! Don't stop Mister Orc! Don't stop for even a moment! YESSSSSS!!!"

As Emma c.u.ms her brains out while being impaled upon the orc's c.o.c.k again and again, his bulbous, massive member bulging out of her belly visibly with every thrust, Iris is still practically making love with an orc off to the side, though whether it's the first one still or not, who can say. The cow girl's face is flushed red with heat as she lovingly kisses the orc she's currently riding, bouncing up and down on this one's c.o.c.k just as enthusiastically as any that came before him, her massive milk jugs smooshed against his fat belly all the while.

Truly, the three of them make quite the sight. The view is wholly and utterly debauched… and no one is coming for them. Not even Oriana, experienced Level Two adventurer that she was, had noticed that the orcs, as they'd fought in the beginning, had managed to lead the party of three over to a lesser traveled portion of the tenth floor. Around a corner, out of sight, all three women are completely and utterly destroyed, dominated s.e.x.u.a.lly and broken down until nothing of the proud adventurers they once were remains.

All three of them had plans, all three of them had goals. Emma wanted to find her sister. Iris hoped to be able to make a living as an adventurer and never be in debt again. Oriana simply wished to follow in the footsteps of her family and strive to become the greatest knight that ever lived. None of that is going to happen now. None of it can happen now.

Even if the monsters who have the three women in their clutches did decide to let them go once, they were done… none of them can go back to the way things were after this. All would seek out further ****, further degradation, further domination at the hands of monsters. Even if it led to their deaths, they wanted more… they wanted to be f.u.c.k.i.e.d and used and abused by the monsters of the Dungeon.

Perhaps then it was almost merciful that the monsters, or rather the Dungeon that created and controlled them, had no intention of letting any of the three adventurers go. Instead, the trio of women are dragged off, pulled into the walls of the tenth floor itself, the only things left behind being their weapons, their armor, and tattered remains of their torn clothing.

Not a single one of them resists, as they're walked into the shifting walls while still bouncing up and down on orc c.o.c.k, each of them wrapping their limbs around the massive green-skinned monsters as said orcs hold them close. They've finally found their true purpose… and they wouldn't trade it for the world.

-x-X-x-

I hum, even as I have the orcs hook up my latest catches to the wall of one of the newly spawned flesh chambers I've made. Much like the breeding chamber slash laboratory I have on a lower floor for my Xenos, this breeding chamber is for female adventurers. The three that are now properly installed in the walls and being f.u.c.k.i.e.d by tentacles as they happily accept their fates are the first… but I intend to bring them plenty of friends soon enough.

More importantly, the experiment was a great success! It was something I got off of an imp Xenos, as it so happened… the ability to give imps, which were supposed to be demonic creatures bent on corruption, a signature move called L.u.s.t Breath. I'd waited until a party made up entirely of female adventurers had showed up to try it out, and it had NOT disappointed.

Though, I was pretty sure the cow girl succ.u.mbed so fast not because she was the weakest of the three, but because she was secretly a pervert who fantasized about being dominated by a big strong man. The orc that she'd lovingly made out with while it claimed her v.i.r.g.i.nity and bounced her up and down on its c.o.c.k had been enough to count as one, once she'd inhaled that first whiff of L.u.s.t Breath, it seemed.

The other two had fought longer, though the most armored of the three had fought the longest. My suspicions on why that was were now confirmed, even as I felt the female adventurers integrating into my system, so to speak. Put simply, I wasn't just breeding them all when I stuck them in the flesh chamber… I was draining them as well. And now that I'd started, I could definitely see the quantifiable differences between the three.

The lady knight who'd fought so much harder for so much longer, and who had needed multiple uses of L.u.s.t Breath before she'd properly gone down, was a Level Two. The other two adventurers were Level One. Was and were, were key words here, because as it turned out, they'd all soon be Level Ones with zeroed out stats, as it were.

I couldn't destroy the Falna etched into their souls, but I could drain them of every bit of excelia that they'd managed to collect so far on their journeys as adventurers. So, that was exactly what I did. And mm, let me tell you something.

It was delicious.