My Dungeon Daddy System: Raising Monsters and Waifus Underground-Chapter 76 – The Gardener’s Herald

Reed was getting tired of the back and forth of the elevator ride from the Casino Floor down to the Iron Works, it felt like descending from a fever dream into a grave.

Above them, the music was thumping, the gold was flowing, and Maira was surgically extracting wealth from intoxicated nobles. Below, the air grew heavy, hot, and thick with the cloying scent of aggressive biology.

Seraphine was apparently doing great taking down noblemen in the area... she was getting a little annoyed of them not exactly putting up a fight and more letting her constrict them to passionate slumber, but it helped keep the shadow rot down and apparently was making good money.

Reed hadn’t checked on the spa, but from Maira’s report, Terra, the massage therapist, had been a really big hit. Adventures from the classic dungeon would come down and get the skull crushing massage of their life after being constantly spanked, burned, and humiliated from the traps.

Overnight it seemed like Terra was a big hit with the more aggressive adventures and more "adventurous" merchants/nobles. "I have to give the big girl a raise or an upgrade when we get this under control." Reed stated with a sigh.

Reed leaned against the rattling iron cage, checking his HUD.

[Current Void Mana: 17,800 MP]

[Regeneration: High (Harem Resonance Active)]

[Threat Level: ESCALATING]

"We have to get this under control boss" Grika said, her voice tight.

The goblin engineer was standing on a crate to reach the control panel, her welding goggles pulled down over her eyes. She wasn’t vibrating with her usual manic energy, she was in engineer mode, QatarShe was clutching a heavy pipe wrench with white-knuckled intensity.

"The seismic monitors are screaming," Grika continued, tapping the glass dial of the elevator. "The vibrations from the bass drop upstairs... they aren’t just annoying the neighbors downstairs. They’re acting like a dinner bell."

"I know," Reed said, adjusting his velvet coat. It was dry now, thanks to the ambient heat of the shaft, but it still smelled faintly of the aphrodisiac pollen. "The plants feed on energy. Kinetic. Thermal. Magical. We basically just threw a rave on top of a sleeping predator."

"I hate plants even more now,," Grika muttered, her ears drooping. "Give me a construct any day. If a Terra breaks, you fix it with a hammer. If a plant breaks, it just... leaks on you. And grows back."

Ding.

The doors groaned open.

Floor 3 had come to a full stop, orcs weren’t making any poker chips. The machinery making the traps and slot machines were all at a stop. It was silent.

The Orcs had been evacuated to the upper levels. The only thing moving in the Iron Works was the mist.

It poured from the far wall, a thick, violet fog that hugged the floor like dry ice. It swirled around the base of the heavy stamping presses, curling up the legs of the dormant machines like spectral vines.

"Gas masks," Reed ordered.

He activated his [Void Shield], creating a bubble of filtered air around his head. Grika pulled a leather breathing mask from her belt and strapped it on, her yellow eyes wide behind the goggles.

They walked through the silent factory, their footsteps echoing on the concrete.

The smell was overwhelming. Even through the filters, Reed could taste it. It wasn’t the fresh, green scent of a forest. It was the heavy, fermented stench of a jungle that had been rotting and regrowing for a thousand years. It smelled of musk, decay, and sugar.

They reached the breach.

The Obsidian Seal, the massive black stone slab that separated the industrial zone from the sealed biome below, was no longer just cracked.

It was bleeding.

Thick, neon-pink sap oozed from a fissure that split the rock from floor to ceiling. The sap pulsed, glowing in the dark, dripping onto the concrete with a slow, hypnotic rhythm. Plip. Plip. Plip.

Where the sap touched the stone, moss was already growing. Fast. In the few hours since the first breach, patches of violet lichen had spread across the floor, eating into the rock like acid.

"Structural integrity is at 4%," Grika whispered, reading a handheld scanner. "The wall isn’t holding the ceiling up anymore. The roots are."

Thump.

The sound came from inside the crack.

It wasn’t a heartbeat this time. It was a footstep.

"Something’s coming," Reed said, stepping in front of Grika. "Back up."

The violet mist swirled violently. The pink sap bubbled.

A hand gripped the edge of the obsidian fissure.

It wasn’t a monster’s claw. It wasn’t a tentacle. It was a woman’s hand. The skin was pale green, smooth, and flawless, with fingernails that looked like polished thorns.

"Hello?" a voice called out.

It was soft. Sweet. It sounded like wind chimes made of glass.

"Is the Master of the House in?"

The figure squeezed through the crack. She moved with a fluid, boneless grace, unfolding herself from the narrow opening like a blooming flower.

She looked... almost human.

She was tall, painfully thin, draped in a dress made of living, woven petals that shifted color from deep purple to blood red as she moved. Her hair was a cascade of vines, dotted with small, closed buds.

But her eyes.

Her eyes were solid, glossy black orbs. No whites. No pupils. Just void.

And when she smiled, her lips pulled back too far, revealing teeth that were serrated and slightly translucent.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[Entity Identified: DRYAD HERALD]

[Level: 35 (Elite)]

[Affiliation: The Matriarch]

[Status: Hungry]

"I am the Master," Reed said, his voice echoing in the silent cavern. He didn’t draw a weapon. He stood his ground, letting his [Overlord Aura] leak out just enough to stain the air purple. "And you are trespassing."

The Dryad giggled. She took a step forward, her bare feet leaving wet prints on the concrete.

"Trespassing?" She tilted her head, the vines in her hair writhing. "Oh no, sweet thing. We are neighbors, we were here dungeons before you. The Mother felt your... party. The vibrations. The heat. It woke the roots."