My Dungeon Daddy System: Raising Monsters and Waifus Underground-Chapter 86 - Sanctum of the Heart

Floor 1 - The War Room

Maira stood alone in the center of the obsidian command center. The magical monitors that usually displayed crisp, high-definition feeds of the dungeon were dissolving into static.

"Signal integrity at 12%," Maira whispered, tapping the obsidian console with a manicured nail. "Interference from biological density is increasing. Sir?" Maira pressed two fingers to her earpiece, her brow furrowed. "Reed? Do you copy? The signal is degrading."

She pressed the comms rune.

"Sir? Lord Reed? Do you copy?"

Krr-zzzt... heavy... interference... krr-zzzt...

"The biometrics are scrambling," she whispered, tapping the glass of the main console. The tracking dots representing Reed, Seraphine, Grika, and Terra were flickering, their mana signatures being swallowed by a massive, overwhelming biological signal coming from below.

It was like trying to track a candle inside a forest fire.

"Maira!" Riva squawked, swooping down from the rafters and landing on the back of Reed’s chair. The Harpy looked agitated, her feathers puffed up. "Shiny Lady is here! The one with the veil! She is asking for the ’Purple Drink’!"

"Vesper," Maira cursed softly. "She is early. Tell her the Master is... in the cellar. Fermenting the vintage."

"Riva tell her!" The bird saluted and flew off.

Maira turned back to the screen. A new alert popped up in the corner, flashing urgent red.

[SEISMIC ALERT: FLOOR 3]

[Status: SEAL COMPROMISED]

[Note: Roots are growing through the elevator shaft.]

"Sir," Maira tried one last time, her voice cracking with a rare note of genuine fear. "If you can hear me... do not engage the Hive Mind. The signal coming from the center... it isn’t just mana. It’s grief."

Krr-zzzzzt.

The connection died. The screen went black.

Floor 4

Reed heard the communication from Maira but was getting terrible feedback, not understanding what is was she was asking.

"I hope they’re doing ok up there." He said low, worried. "I wouldn’t think that clan member would cause much trouble."

The path to the Heart Tree was paved with good intentions and very, very bad flowers.

Reed walked in the center of the formation, the heavy servos of the Weed Whacker Mk 1 humming a low, menacing tune. The air here was so thick with pollen and pheromones that it felt like wading through warm syrup.

Every step was a battle of wills. The plants didn’t attack; they fawned. Vines slithered across his boots, trying to polish them. Giant ferns bent low as he passed, offering shade. Bioluminescent orchids turned to face him, pulsing with a soft, rhythmic light that matched the beating of his own heart.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

"It’s disgusting," Seraphine hissed from the vanguard position. She swatted a vine away with the butt of her Magma Lance. "They have no dignity. They grovel."

"They aren’t groveling," Reed said, his voice tight. "They’re courting."

They are loud, Elara whispered inside his chest. The ghost was awake, pressing against the inside of his ribs like a cold hand. Reed, the song... it’s wrong. It sounds like a lullaby sung by someone with too many teeth.

"Keep the radar up, Elara," Reed thought back. "If the song changes to a war cry, you freeze my heart. Don’t let me get charmed."

I will anchor you, she promised. I am the cold spot.

"Heat shield holding," Terra rumbled from the rear. The Golem was glowing a dull, angry red, burning away the worst of the airborne aphrodisiacs. "BUT AIR TASTES LIKE CANDY. BAD CANDY. OLD CANDY."

"We’re close," Grika said, checking the gauges on Reed’s backpack. "Engine temp is high but stable. We have enough juice for one more ’Napalm Burst’ or about ten minutes of sawing. After that, you’re just a guy wearing a heavy metal backpack."

The path opened up.

They stepped into the Sanctum of the Heart.

It was a cathedral of biology. The ceiling was gone, replaced by the canopy of a single, colossal tree that stretched up into the darkness for miles. Its roots formed the walls, the floor, and the architecture of the room. The bark was black, slick with the glowing pink nectar that ran in rivers down the sides of the chamber.

In the center of the room, suspended over a pool of pure, glowing mana, was the Throne.

It was a massive flower bud, easily twenty feet tall, hanging from the canopy by thick, pulsating vines.

Standing at the base of the pool, waiting for them with a smug, terrified smile, was an old friend.

The Dryad Herald.

She looked worse for wear. Her petal dress was scorched from their previous encounter, and one of her arms was still regenerating, looking like a bundle of green twigs. But she curtsied low as Reed entered.

"The fertilizer returns," the Dryad giggled, her black eyes gleaming. "And he brought his... weeds."

"Step aside," Reed commanded, his voice amplified by the suit. "I’m here to speak to the manager."

"Oh, she knows," the Dryad purred. She pointed a long, green finger at the hanging bud. "Mother has been waiting for two hundred years. She felt your fire in the hallway. She recognized the taste of the Void."

The Dryad stepped back, fading into the shadows of the roots.

"She made dinner," the Dryad whispered. "But she hates guests."

CRACK.

The sound came from the floor. Not in front of them. Beneath them.

"Trap!" Seraphine screamed, shoving Reed backward.

She was too late.

The ground didn’t open up; it exploded upwards.

[BOSS SKILL: THE AMBER PRISON]

Geysers of thick, golden sap erupted from the root-floor directly under the feet of the Raid Team. It wasn’t slow like honey; it was pressurized like a water cannon.

"Gah!" Terra roared as a column of sap hit her from below.

The sap hissed as it touched her magma skin, boiling instantly... but there was too much of it. It coated her legs, her torso, her arms. It cooled in seconds, hardening into a translucent, unbreakable amber shell.

"STUCK!" Terra yelled, trying to smash her way out. But the amber absorbed the impact. She was frozen mid-punch, a statue of rage trapped in gold.

"Move!" Grika shrieked, firing her jump jets.

She launched into the air, but a vine lashed out from the ceiling, coated in the same sticky resin. It slapped her out of the sky. She hit the ground, and the sap flooded over her, pinning her to the floor.

"My gears!" Grika wailed as the amber filled the servos of her exoskeleton. "I’m gummed up! I can’t move!"

Seraphine was the fastest. She tried to slither out of the blast zone, her tail whipping frantically.

But the trap was designed for her.

Spikes of hardened amber shot up in a circle around her, forming a cage. Before she could thrust her spear, the cage filled with liquid resin.

"No!" Seraphine hissed, slashing at the fluid. It caught her spear. It caught her arm. It caught her tail.

Within three seconds, the General of the Twilight Dungeon was encased in a pillar of golden glass, her face frozen in a snarl of defiance, her beautiful black armor suspended in the amber.

Silence fell over the Sanctum.

Reed stood alone in the center of the room.

The sap had erupted all around him. It had taken his tank. It had taken his vanguard. It had taken his engineer.

But not a single drop had touched him.

Reed looked down at his boots. The floor was dry. The golden puddles formed a perfect circle around him, a "safe zone" in the middle of the catastrophe.

"It missed me," Reed whispered, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck.

"It didn’t miss," Elara’s voice trembled in his mind. "It chose."

Creak... Snap.

Above the pool, the massive hanging flower bud began to peel open. Giant petals, the color of dried blood and velvet, unfurled with a wet, heavy sound.

Pink mist poured out of the opening flower, rolling down into the room like fog.

[BOSS ENCOUNTER STARTED]

[Target: AMARA (THE MATRIARCH)]

[Level: ??? (Legacy Boss)]

[Status: OBSESSED]

"Husband?"

The voice was soft. It sounded like wind chimes made of bone. It sounded like a memory of something that used to be human.

A figure descended from the flower.

She was fused to the plant at the waist. Her upper body was that of a voluptuous woman with pale green skin that glowed with violet veins. Her hair was a cascade of living vines and blooming roses. She wore nothing but the petals that grew from her own skin.

Below the waist, she was a nightmare. She didn’t have legs. She merged into a massive, serpentine vine structure that acted as her throne, her movement system, and her weapon.

She glided down toward Reed, the massive vines lowering her until she was hovering just inches above the surface of the mana pool.

She ignored the trapped women. She ignored the chainsaw suit. Her solid black eyes fixed on Reed.

She smiled. It was a terrifyingly loving smile.

"You’re late," Amara whispered, reaching out a hand. "Dinner is cold. And I have been so... very... lonely."