When more than forty dungeon names lined up neatly before them, shock swept through the group instantly.
Every name, presumably, represented a starting supply package — items or equipment, based on what little context they had. But none carried labels. What each one would actually contain remained a genuine mystery. The text that followed gave them just enough context to grasp the situation.
This is an anomaly caused by multiple dungeons joining forces...
Sein Dungeon hadn't outright explained the situation, but anyone with functioning eyes could tell that every listed dungeon was undergoing some kind of parallel change.
So — all connected to the same meteor shower?
An unprecedented situation. Even Fingri, a Gold-Rank adventurer with genuine experience, was visibly stunned.
"I've read about incidents involving multiple dungeons undergoing simultaneous anomalies before, but that was over two hundred years ago," Matilda said, clearly startled — startled enough that her helmet melted back into her armor, revealing a cool, refined face with the unmistakable look of a poised, girl-next-door type.
"And the largest recorded event on file involved thirty-two dungeons at once!"
The Bone Fang Party immediately erupted in exaggerated gasps.
Bringing them along really had been the right call. These people were genuine professionals at maintaining atmosphere.
"So — we're witnessing history right now, aren't we?"
Fingri let out an excited whistle. He glanced at the Glory Stele, still visibly climbing, and without hesitation chose the departure supplies attached to Sein Dungeon.
They'd already worked out that these supplies could be claimed again every seven hours. Death reset the cooldown entirely — reviving cleared it immediately, letting an adventurer claim a fresh package right away.
That much had been agreed upon among the various Dungeon Lords ahead of time. Because of the event, all forty-plus dungeons had temporarily adjusted their hours — closing at midnight, reopening at three in the morning, running a twenty-one-hour open window each day.
Which meant, even for an adventurer who stayed inside continuously through that entire stretch, only three claims were possible.
A rule the Dungeon Lords had worked out based on their own past experience — after all, an adventurer's death normally teleported them straight to a revival house outside, forcing them to wait until the next day to try again.
What they'd apparently overlooked, while writing the rules, was one specific loophole.
This whole arrangement functioned, at its core, as advertising — each dungeon putting its own products directly on display in the simplest, most transparent way possible.
The mana funding all these supply packages came from Red Fang Dungeon, though Red Fang had set a hard cap on the mental power any single package could contain. Even so, the total mana cost across everything was projected to be a genuinely terrifying figure.
Could Red Fang shoulder the whole thing alone?
Sure. It would just hurt a little.
Which was exactly why, before the meteor shower had even arrived, he'd spent the preceding stretch hunting through the wild, effectively looting the assets of nearly ten dungeons across the Western Continent.
Everyone already knew what kind of things lived on the Western Continent — it wasn't an exaggeration, then, to say this entire limited-time event was, indirectly, being sponsored by demons out of pure friendly generosity.
Since the supplies could be claimed repeatedly, Fingri naturally wanted to see, first, what quality reward Sein Dungeon actually offered its most loyal adventurers.
A flash of white light — and several deeply familiar items, well-known to anyone who spent real time in Sein Dungeon, materialized in his arms.
A careful count later —
Two red-and-white Poké Balls, one boiled Blissey, and two Alluring Skulls.
"Ah, I see. The Alluring Skulls draw the Minior in, the Poké Balls catch them — but what's the Blissey for? We're supposed to eat it?"
He'd correctly guessed the first two purposes; the real function of the Blissey turned out to be —
Ice.
All three items were genuinely common. Poké Balls carried a small premium value, but Blissey had started appearing in bulk lately, its going rate now roughly equivalent to twenty eggs. Alluring Skulls spawned reliably at fixed points across both Farron Keep and the Catacombs of Carthus.
"Not a huge surprise, honestly, but genuinely useful."
Fingri waved toward the sky.
"Thanks, Sein."
Elsa walked over and selected Sein's package too — or, more accurately, she'd never once seriously considered picking anything else. In her own way, she counted as one of Sein's hardcore fans as much as anyone.
"First time I've ever gotten something free out of Sein Dungeon," one of the Bone Fang adventurers said, genuinely delighted.
Free things always tasted better. An eternal, unchanging truth.
With Fingri demonstrating Sein's package firsthand, curiosity took over — everyone wanted to see what the other dungeons had put together.
"Didn't even know a wyvern-filled Red Fang Dungeon existed. Wouldn't dare go challenge that place myself."
Someone selected Red Fang's supplies. Inside: one drop of red wyvern blood, granting temporary physical strength; one drop of blue wyvern blood, boosting speed; one drop of green wyvern blood, sharpening observation — all temporary.
Someone else opened Giant Stone Dungeon's package. A pile of throwing stones, magically enchanted to track either enemies or their specific weak points, alongside a handful of randomly selected, genuinely valuable ores.
Another chose Sticky Dungeon. Slime blocks capable of restricting enemy movement, and Giant Slime Crystals worth roughly as much as gemstones.
Someone selected Unicorn Dungeon. A pile of rainbow-hued oddities — a Rainbow Unicorn's horn, assorted stones, strands of hair — and... excrement?
"I heard unicorn excrement attracts monsters of the opposite sex — but I'm absolutely never picking this dungeon again. Never!"
"There's a Song-and-Dance Dungeon too? I've always wanted to go there and watch the ancient songs and circus performances."
"Just be careful you don't get murdered by the killer clowns and the ring-of-fire lions on your way in."
Song-and-Dance Dungeon offered exactly one item: a disposable Sound Recording Stone, capable of emitting an entrancing tone that reliably attracted monsters. A genuinely respected item historically — and a signature product of that dungeon.
"Saw a review on it once — the entrancing effect apparently hits noticeably stronger than an Alluring Skull."
"You get two Skulls, though. Isn't that a better deal overall, versus something single-use?"
"Put it that way, and I suddenly feel a little ripped off..."
"So just kill yourself. Didn't they say revival resets the claim? Reviving at a bonfire should count too, right?"
"My god — you're a genius."
After that particular person killed himself and reselected, it worked exactly as predicted.
Everyone quickly followed suit, sampling across the roster, and by the end well over half the group had circled back to Sein anyway.
Some dungeons leaned functional — practical, usable items. Some just handed out raw currency. Others clearly threw the package together with minimal effort. A few tried to spread a little bit of everything into one package.
The Dungeon Lords' individual personalities, and their dungeons' unique flavors, showed through unmistakably. A dungeon like Unicorn — with a genuinely limited pool of resources — had no real choice but to pad out its offering with literal unicorn excrement just to hit some baseline of "variety."
"Something feels off. Why am I already dizzy and seeing stars after only two revives? Used to take four or more before it hit like this..."
"Who knows. Just be grateful you're getting this much out of it."
"True enough. Praise Sein for suddenly turning this generous."
Sein's own regular adventurers adjusted quickly to the whole cross-dungeon situation, gathering their claimed items and setting off happily on their next adventure.
Reaching the open expanse of the Gourmet Zone, they found a fair number of Miniors already scattered around. Fewer than yesterday, their bodies noticeably smaller now, though their speed had climbed dramatically instead.
Still, a quick scan around spotted several at once. Plenty to go around overall.
Everyone remembered the rule clearly — bring a Minior to the altar, trade it in for a reward. Not sparing so much as a glance for the surrounding regular monsters, the group charged straight for the nearest one.
"Watch this!"
Someone threw a Poké Ball with genuinely solid aim.
But a fast black shadow slipped past first — a Minior in motion — and the Poké Ball, never even given the chance to open mid-air, shattered on impact.
"You idiot! Didn't I teach you this? Wear the thing down first, THEN throw the ball! Look — you just wasted it!"
Meanwhile, on the other side of the field, Elsa leapt lightly and cracked a Minior's outer shell open in one motion, exposing its blue core — instantly slashing its vitality roughly in half. In the same beat, she caught it one-handed and pressed a Poké Ball against it with the other.
A flash of white light —
Success. Her first capture.
Wait — you're supposed to throw the Poké Ball! A Poké Ball that's never thrown doesn't have a soul!
Having claimed the honor of "first kill," Elsa turned to face everyone else.
Fingri chased eagerly after a Minior, misjudged his own strength, and hit it hard enough to knock its health near zero and make it vanish, which unfortunately drew the attention of a nearby Golem instead.
Aleya, meanwhile, took a slower approach — luring one in with an Alluring Skull, then patiently offering it various plants to see what it might eat.
Matilda offered an oddly endearing contrast. Steady and precise in combat, calm as clockwork — and then, throwing a Poké Ball, suddenly clumsy and unpracticed, expression flooded with visible anticipation, fist clenching unconsciously.
The ball hit the ground, wobbled twice, and the Minior burst free. Its body swelled several sizes larger without warning, rolling toward Matilda like a giant boulder.
Slightly flustered, she swung a punch — a hit that would have smashed the Minior outright.
Just before it connected, Elsa kicked it aside instead. As its shell cracked open, she flashed behind Matilda in a blink and grabbed the hand holding her Poké Ball.
"Throw it with me."
"Huh? Ah — okay."
Guided by Elsa's hand, Matilda managed a genuinely awkward-looking throw. The Minior tried to bolt, but Elsa hurled her greatsword to block its escape route.
A flash of white light. Capture successful.
"Yes!"
Matilda cheered halfway through the word, then registered that her carefully maintained composure had just fully collapsed. She coughed twice, forced her expression back into something serious, and shook Elsa's hand.
"Thank you. I've got it now."
"You're welcome."
Elsa hummed softly, a hint of pride in her smile.
Right then, a shiny Minior darted past.
Elsa moved instantly to chase — hand pulling back from Matilda's grip.
Except Matilda's grip stayed locked in place.
"I'm not doing it on purpose. My armor... won't let me let go?"
Matilda registered, with real surprise, that she'd lost all control over Hell March. The armor itself was gripping Elsa, and something restless stirred inside it — almost as though Hell March genuinely wanted to fling itself over and attach to Elsa instead.
Matilda could wield the weapon without personal cost, but she'd never been its true compatible master. That meant occasional control errors, effects bleeding out to everyone nearby. And when Hell March encountered a genuinely better-fitting host, its instinct was to abandon its current wielder without hesitation.
Matilda stood there, completely lost.
Elsa simply pried Hell March's grip apart by force and took off chasing the already-vanished shiny Minior.
"Come help! This Golem Smith is seriously rough!"
Fingri's cry for help drifted over from nearby.
"...Sigh."
Matilda exhaled and put her helmet back on.
For a moment there, it had felt like something she'd always regarded as a treasured possession had run off, eager, to fawn over someone else — only to get quietly rejected instead.
Genuinely complicated feeling.
She could practically see waves of green Calm magic drifting overhead, trying to settle her nerves.
Before long, everyone had burned through their entire Poké Ball supply. In reality, the collective haul barely filled a single hand — the success rate could only be described as terrible.
And low capture rates weren't the only casualty of the day.
Some had been outright crushed by Miniors. Others had made small mistakes mid-chase, injuring their own captured Pokémon and drawing an actual Golem Smith down on the group.
And yet — everyone was thoroughly, genuinely excited.
This whole event had let them experience a completely unfamiliar side of Sein Dungeon. Like an old married couple stumbling into some brand-new game together, unexpectedly — a strange, refreshing novelty running underneath everything.
Even mana output was noticeably higher than usual.
"Hurry back! I'm going to kill myself and grab more Poké Balls!"
Having missed his own capture, Fingri simply cradled a struggling Minior in both arms instead.
Then he suddenly asked:
"How are the people who didn't choose Poké Balls supposed to catch these things? Just... hold them like I'm doing?"
"Magic," Matilda offered, still visibly stewing over Hell March's earlier betrayal.
"But this little thing's magic resistance is absurdly high. I tried using Mage Hand on one earlier — it broke free instantly."
The mage's comment set the whole group thinking. Without Sein's supplies, how exactly was anyone meant to catch these strange little creatures — size shifting unpredictably, speed spiking and dropping without warning, magic resistance layered on top?
Worth noting: none of those traits had come baked into the Minior originally. All added specifically for this event.
"Well, guess I don't have to worry about that. I'll always pick Sein anyway."
"I've been Sein's most loyal superfan this whole time."
The instant those words left someone's mouth, a meteor plunged down directly in front of the group, dropping a random elite monster and cutting off the path back toward the altar.
"Every single time I try to show Sein a little respect, it turns around and messes with me..."
As the impact dust cleared, a massive bronze golem stood revealed — four arms, each gripping a large shield and spear.
"Wait — isn't that the Bronze Gladiator? From Glory Dungeon?"
Exactly right. Monster encounters, too, were pulled from a shared, random pool — every participating Dungeon Lord had thrown a handful of their own creatures into the mix.
"Whatever. Let's fight."
Fingri's eyes went fierce.
Two minutes later, the Bronze Gladiator, thoroughly dismantled, collapsed in a pathetic heap.
"...That weak?" Fingri complained.
"Guess it wasn't quite as tough as we assumed," Aleya said, studying the wreckage.
"Hm... is it possible that the monsters we normally deal with in Sein are just fundamentally overtuned?"
"Bronze Gladiators are a genuinely standard elite-tier monster," Matilda offered.
The moment she said it, a shared, quiet "Oh..." passed through the whole group.
Realization dawning at once.
Only Sein's own monsters carried dynamic difficulty scaling.
"Wait — if that's true, doesn't that mean—"
One of the Bone Fang members caught on, expression split evenly between horror and genuine delight.
"Adventurers from OTHER dungeons can actually fight Sein's monsters?!"
At the same time, inside Giant Stone Dungeon —
Leon's beloved father, Teppi Bask, stared at the Fallingstar Beast that had just crashed down in front of him.
His mouth hung open wide enough to fit a full ten eggs.
What in the world was this thing?
Where were the ordinary stone men that were supposed to be the most common monsters in this dungeon?