A few days later, a carrier pigeon brings a message to the Citadel of Light. It was written on two sheets of parchment with tiny letters. They were meticulously folded and barely fitted within a small bag attached to the bird's back. Rewriting it takes a whole day and ends on almost a yard-long scroll. When Archpriest and Dungeon Mistress of the Citadel read it for the first time, they didn’t know what to think about it.

  “Well. That was unexpected.” The old elf said.

  “Which part? Because for me, almost all doesn’t make sense.” Mistress asked.

  “True. It looks like Goods found someone special.”

  “Yes. And Archlich already made his first move.”

  “Hard to say it was him personally.”

  “Even if not, we should send knights to protect her.”

  “They are on their way. And she is safe. Read the description of her core floor.” Grand Marshal said. “Without a proper army full of mages, you will never go through.”

  “Undead aren’t affected by poisons.” Chino pointed out.

  “Yes. However, she has this enormous snake as a guardian and at least one more as support. And who knows what is hiding inside this jungle?” Gustav answered.

  “And she has five floors already. Three of them are full of monsters.” Archpriest said.

  “Not monsters. Robots.” Mistress said.

  “Robots? Here it is stated they are called golems.” The Grand Marshal was confused.

  “I know. I think I saw somewhere in some stories or games that term. It probably refers to a humanoid figure made alive through magic.”

  “Description fits.” Gustav shrugs. “And whatever they are, they are her defenders. Overall, she probably has a better defense than you, Mistress.”

  “Why?”

  “First floor full of traps. Zombies can’t dodge. And according to what was written, they work without magic. Skillful, high-level mages can freeze walls and floors for safe passage. Cultists are cowards and rarely have someone who could do that. The next three floors aren't any better. I can’t assess how good those golems are, but one thing is sure. Necromancers, demon summoners, or warlocks need parts of living creatures for their evil magic. But these golems aren't alive.”

  “And around the oasis is only desert. Cultist monsters will die in her dungeon, and cultists starve outside.” Mistress understood, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Yes. Also, remember they need to break through our citadels in the north, in the first place.” Marchal added.

  “And she had a lot of time until it happened.” Archpriest tries to reassure her. “We have, right now, the first month of a new year. Winter will last two months, three in the far North. Until then, nothing can travel to the citadel of the dead.”

  “Her appearance makes Archlich nervous. But nothing will happen until we don’t make moves against him.” Marchal added.

  “Yes, both of you are right.

  News about Naomi's creations started spreading like wildfire. Pigeons were flying nonstop, horses of runners had barely time for rest, and gossipers' imaginations ran wild. Naomi was oblivious to all of that, and she was very occupied right now. She was sitting with a few other people on the upper part of the arena, watching the fight between her golem gorilla and adventurers. She didn’t want to be here, but Paoli and everybody else were right. She needs to stop pretending this is some cosplay party. This was a brutal and deadly reality. So, Naomi was sitting and nervously watching how ten adventurers entered an arena. She was relieved when she learned that adventurers usually combine two or three teams to fight with the champion. They did this because adventurers had only two ways to return, after reaching deeper levels. Fighting against the champion, or pressing on to the next safe floor with a return ring. There are return amulets in Naomi's dungeon, but that doesn't change the fact that the fight with the champion will be hard. And after a few testing skirmishes, they know that. The golem gorilla was tall, and its armor was thick. The worst part was his ability to grab anything with his hands. An adventurer can be tossed on the other end of the arena, weapon catch and broken, or some debris can be thrown at you. However, he has a few weak points. The joints of its arms and legs had less protection, and the golem relied only on its eyes.

  “Jars with honey are ready?” The commander of the raid asked. Four adventurers raise their hands. At the beginning, when the rest of the adventurers are distracting the guardian, they will try to throw small jars with honey. Hopefully, they will manage to hit the eyes.

  “Good. When the champion loses sight, the rest of us start attacking the joints of the legs. It should immobilize this golem. After that, it will be a matter of breaking its neck. Support concentrates on taking away the injured.”

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  The beginning of the battle went more or less according to plan. Two jars hit the gorilla in the face, making him blind. But the golem had ears, and the shouts and noises made by the adventurers were enough for him to launch a counterattack. A few were successful. One deadly.

  “No!” Naomi screams, filling familiar mana rush. She runs to the healers standing by the entrance to the arena. When she reached them, the High Priestess Pinera placed a broken twig, a symbol of death, on the adventurer's chest.

  “No,” Naomi repeated silently.

  “I’m sorry, Dungeon Mistress. But he is dead.” The elven priestess said with a firm voice.

  “There is something we could do.” Naomi's hands were shaking.

  “His soul departed. And necromancy promises are lies.”

  “I know. But still…”

  “Sooner or later, for all of us came the time to fade away,” The priestess said gently.

  “This is it! Fade away. What was his name?”

  “Ruben, Dungeon Mistress.” One of the adventurers answered. “He was from a village called Hernar, I think.”

  “Thank you.” Naomi approached the dead adventurer. “I’m sorry that you died. I can’t return your life to you. But I can make sure you won't be forgotten. Let your life be an inspiration for others.”

  “He definitely will be. Adventurers love to tell stories.” Pinera reassured her.

  Simultaneously, a pristine white marble obelisk appeared on the surface. It was three meters tall, and at the base were engraved words spoken by Naomi. A little higher up was the name of the adventurer.

  The funeral was outside the dungeon. Inside the dungeon, the dead body would vanish, and there was a superstition that sometimes even the soul could be erased. Priests don’t fight with this belief. People should have the opportunity to say goodbye for the last time. The funeral was simple. The body was wrapped in fabric and laid on the sand. His companions were standing aside. There were no grand speeches or sermons. The high priests and a few fire magicians ensured that only ashes remained. It was a relatively new custom, created to prevent cultists from desecrating bodies.

  Naomi was observing the ceremony from the wall.

  “Everything all right, Dungeon Mistress?”

  “It’s you, Paoli.” Naomi turned her head to see who was calling her. “Mostly, yes. I have a lot of conflicting feelings.”

  “Which one, for example?”

  “I’m happy because of my new life. I can at last follow my path. But my path will bring death to many people. So I feel guilt too.”

  “Just like any of us.” Paoli shrugs. “I told you that, after the bandit's raid.”

  “I know.”

  “You know, Mistress. I have conflicted feelings right now, too.” She tries a different approach.

  “About what?”

  “Your obelisk. Nice gesture, that is for sure. But to get killed for your name to be commemorated in the future? I think I will use that option after I run off others.”

  “How can you joke right now?” Naomi stares at her in disbelief.

  “This is the adventurer's lifestyle. We laugh at any obstacles, dangers, and even death.”

  “I guess,” Naomi answered. “You know. I just remembered another custom from my world that is the opposite of my obelisk.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. In some famous places, you can write on paper your name and sometimes a few words when you leave.”

  “Damn. I don’t plan on leaving your oasis, Mistress, anytime soon, if at all.”

  “Right. You told me that. I will find, for you and your husband, some way to be remembered. But I will use this guest's scroll too. Do you think people will like it?”

  “Definitely. We adventurers love to brag.” Paoli confirms.

  “Can I ask you to tell everyone about that? I will place it next to the entrance to the dungeon.”

  “Yes. Dungeon Mistress. What about you?

  “I need some rest. Then I will start working on the next floor.”

  “Understood.”

  When Naomi woke up, she immediately went to her workshop. After yesterday's events, she needed something to do to calm herself. The best choice was the sixth floor. She needed to fit a few things there. It needs to be spacious. Dozens of adventurers will be entering at once. So the first room was a large warehouse. Stairs were built around a large elevator, now destroyed in some accident. The warehouse has the shape of a semicircle. On the round wall were five big tunnels leading deeper into the maze. There were train tracks on the floor, and Naomi even placed a few carts on them. Next to the walls, she placed crates. Inside, she hides some building tools like shovels or a pickaxe. She also arranged a pile of metal plates, steel beams, and wooden planks. People started seriously planning to build an outpost outside her oasis. They only lack tools and materials. She decided to help with that.

  That was the second item on her list. While constructing the ruins on the fifth floor, she tested modern production technologies used on Earth. And they failed. Everything produced through automated production has turned into second-quality goods at best. And she doesn’t understand why. Because of that, she created a dozen workshops on the sixth floor. And cities need them to function anyway. She also used simplified modern machinery, powered by gears, not electricity. Power was redistributed through shafts moved by the steam engine at the end of the maze. As a heat source, Naomi used fire mana stones. The boiler looks similar to those from the Earth. It was an enormous cylinder with pipes running through it. The difference was that there wasn’t a firebox. Mana stones were inserted into pipes going through the boiler and directly heated water. For workers, she used monkeys, mainly chimpanzees for manual work, and orangutans for hauling goods. In between workshops, she placed staff canteens. Each is big enough for twenty people and has a fully stocked pantry and simple kitchen for making food. Everything on the floor was made from metal. However, Naomi did her best to imitate the nineteenth-century architectural style. Beams ended with ornaments looking like leaves and flowers. And no sharp corners. Bodies of machines are made from cast iron rather than welded elements. When everything was ready, she checked on the adventurers. Turns out it was the middle of the night. She has a lot of time then. Naomi confirms the creation of the floor. Then she ordered all her golems to start working. After a few hours, all the tasks were done, and she began inspecting the results. It was the same outcome as her earlier tries on the fifth floor. There was one exception. A bale of fabric had decent quality.

  “The only difference I can think of was my presence in the weaving mill.” She muttered. So she repeated the process three more times, changing the workshop each time. And every time her presence caused a difference in quality.

  “I hate quantum physics,” Naomi grumbled.