My Dungeon Life: Rise of the Slave Harem

We continued on for most of the first day.  Most of the 1st level was mapped out, and we were standing at the stairway to the next level. I had to heal a few people, but compared to the mob that had attacked the town, this was pretty light. If this was because most of the zombies were in the deeper floors or because the party before us had cleared them out, I didn’t know.

Despite all of that, I hadn’t leveled just yet. Yeah, leveling quickly became more expensive. By the time I reached level ten, I could imagine it taking months to level. By the time I’m level twenty, possibly years. I asked around, and most people had their job levels around twenty to thirty. Apparently, people couldn’t change their jobs either. That was one of the actions of a priest. That meant my job swapping ability must have been an exceptional result of my abnormal entrance into this world. Or maybe it was a particular part of the support class. I didn’t know.

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“This level wasn’t too bad.” The guild leader spoke to the party. “The undead are stronger at night. Let’s head back to the camp and rest. Now that we know the way, we’ll be able to take the second floor tomorrow without too much issue.”

“What about the other party?” One of the men asked, licking his lips.

“I haven’t seen any indication they entered. It’s possible that the guy was all talk and fled the moment he saw the entrance.” The guild leader said.

This caused a couple of chuckles. In truth, the undead atmosphere put a bit of pressure down on the group and was starting to wear the adventurers down. As a White Mage, I seemed to be able to push it off. The men all asked for another Refresh, which appeared to have a positive effect on the mental pressure they were receiving. With that done, we headed back to the entrance to take a break for the night. Of everyone present, I was probably in the best shape. I hadn’t once been in the front lines, and only had to cast spells. I was a bit sleepy, but Refresh could stave that off for a bit.

No one was upset by this. I had healed two curses so far, and my reputation among the other six was soaring. They all remarked that it was actually quite nice having a healer along. Even things you don’t think about like sore muscles and rashes can be cured with a heal spell, and I wasn’t in the least bit stingy in helping the men along. Their comfort was my survival. At least, that’s how I saw it.

We reached the entrance and headed out towards the camp. Immediately, something seemed off. First of all, the two men that were left behind were not present. Secondly, the fire had been allowed to die. The guild leader held up his hand to stall everyone at the entrance to the dungeon. He walked forward, approaching the fire that was only smoldering. If he wasn’t holding a lantern, I wouldn’t have been able to see him through the thick smog and oppressive darkness.

He kneeled down and picked up some of the cooled ash in his fingers, looking at it. I didn’t know if it was some kind of scouting technique, but it gave me some confidence in his leadership, and I relaxed a bit. Then there was a crack, and our eyes instantly shot to the darkness just outside his lantern light. Shapes were moving, and more and more of them were appearing by the second.

The Guild leader stood up as he eyed the darkness and then pulled his sword. “It’s a trap! Back into the dungeon!”

As he spoke, a couple hundred zombies and skeletons broke into the light, flooding towards the guild leader. This was a tad bigger than the army that had attacked the town the previous night, except there was no wall, there were a 1/3 the number of adventurers, and they were all coming at once. He drew his massive sword and with a single swing knocked a few away before backing up strategically into the dungeon. Everyone was backing up and drawing swords. It was clear the night would be long and difficult.