As the Core slipped into a fitful slumber, Mordred kneeled, vigilant. He was aware that establishing a Rule so early on in the dungeon's life would be painful, but he could already feel the Core's strength surging.

  Even if artificial, adversity sculpts greatness.

  Summoning the Divine Words, Mordred examined his Rule.

  Though lacking a body to do so with, Mordred sneered from behind his helm. His knights would be no easy fare for eager adventurers. They'd have to earn every step, every prize.

  The Flames of Passion bellowed from within his form, pink light illuminating the desolate cathedral. Though speechless and soundless, he and his knights were of one mind.

  "The gates will soon open. I can't wait!"

  Throughout the cavern echoed the retort of steel on steel, his legion saluting both him and their Core.