《Sweet, Sugary Core!》
1: Prologue To Sweetness!
Somewhere, there was a dungeon core. It wasn¡¯t anything interesting, having just manifested, but it could be. The core had done just fine on its own; Choosing an affinity for itself, creating some basic monsters to protect itself, that sort of thing. But one day, as the core was making another basic spider monster, an adventurer accidentally dropped a flaky jelly donut into the dungeon.
¡And then, the dungeon grew a sweet tooth.
It - No, that didn¡¯t feel right anymore, He - felt like he just learned something new. Although dungeons cannot exactly ¡®taste¡¯, he knew that he enjoyed the makeup of the treat. It was something... fresh. It was composed of something sugary and sweet, something that the random mice and bugs that wandered the dungeon were attracted to. Maybe adventurers were attracted to it too? As such, He began to ponder a different path.
Adventurers had treats that other adventurers liked. The more adventurers in the dungeon, the more magic for the core. Injured adventurers give more magic, but dead adventurers can¡¯t give anymore magic.
Would it really be that bad to stop killing them, and to start¡ enticing them? The magic they brought in wasn¡¯t as much as it was when they died, but then they don¡¯t give more magic. Besides, adventurers love goodies. Maybe, just maybe, he could start making defenses similar in construction to the ¡®treat?¡¯ Maybe that would both entice more adventurers, and get him more magic! More magic, more monsters, more adventurers!
The idea began to grow on him, similar to the sweetness of that delectable treat from that adventurer. If he made it so that the invaders liked him, maybe he wouldn¡¯t need to fight so much! Maybe if he made the new monsters ¡®cuter¡¯, less ¡®deadly¡¯, and more ¡®edible¡¯, there wouldn¡¯t be those few invaders that wish to shatter his core!
Plus, a small part of him enjoyed the idea of not needing to kill them. In an odd way, he enjoyed having them around; Sure, they caused messes and made everything worse, but they were endearing in their messes! Like when his spiders accidentally make webs in the wrong places, innocent mistakes.
Yes, a fantastic idea. A wonderful idea! He couldn¡¯t believe that he hadn¡¯t thought of such a fantastic idea sooner. No adventurer will feel bad for a snake with 5 heads, or a spider with human legs. But a monster similar to the ¡®dogs¡¯ the adventurers occasionally brought, with an appearance similar to that of a tasty good, that would make them like the dungeon! Probably!
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Well, that seemed a bit farther off¡ He didn¡¯t really know how those dogs worked. Brushing that idea off, he made a plan. He would make some kind of spider variant made of sweets - And maybe, if he learned more, he would do it to all his insects - and then see how adventurers react to that. If things seem positive, he¡¯d make more!
With a plan in core, he decided to do one last thing before executing it. Adventurers gave many things names. His - as of right now - was the ¡®Insect Dungeon¡¯. But¡ with this plan, he won¡¯t be that anymore. He¡¯d be different, sweeter, probably not deadly anymore. Some adventurers didn¡¯t like insects whatsoever, fearing them. He didn¡¯t like feeling his spiders get a little disappointed or sad when an adventurer was too scared to fight.
Curious, he idly wondered what his new name would be. Something similar to sweets, perhaps? He¡¯d heard adventurers speak about their favorite treats while killing his defenses before, and one of those stuck out to him. At least, he was pretty sure it was a sweet or treat of some kind¡ He wasn¡¯t fully sure.
¡®Lemon meringue.¡¯ That had a nice ring to it, but it felt longer than ¡®Insect Dungeon.¡¯ How about¡ Lemri? Lemrio? Yes, yes, that would work, and it sounded more like an adventurer name. They¡¯d probably like him more if he knew how to tell them who he was!
With that done, Lemrio knew his grand plan would begin today, or at some time later today! He may have been jumping to ideas too fast, but when he had a core feeling of rightness at it, he just had to follow. That instinct never led him wrong before when it wanted to make spiders first instead of anything else.
The first thing to do? Obviously, it¡¯s to remove some of his defenses and put a ¡®maintenance¡¯ sign on the entrance. Whenever the odd human that came did that, people didn¡¯t go in. It shouldn¡¯t be hard at all. The entrance - a wooden arch in front of the cave he called home - had a hook specifically for the sign.
Copying the design of the sign he remembered and telling one of his strongest spiders to hang it on the entrance, Lemrio felt happy. Excited, even. This was new, this was something new! It¡¯d been a long time since he got a bout of inspiration like this; Maybe it would get him enough magic to make another floor. He, er, only had 2 at the moment, but he knew that would change soon!
What¡¯s the worst that could happen if he took a little breather, anyways? He¡¯d seen adventurers take breaks all the time, at the edges of his awareness. Some part of him wondered why he felt all of this now, but figured it must¡¯ve been because of just how new it all was.
2: Johns Inferno.
Dungeon Supervisor John was not having a good day. First the tavern ran out of Pikio beans, then townsfolk complained to him about the cooldown on the Insect Dungeon, and then right afterwards apparently someone put a maintenance sign on that dungeon despite how today is not one of the days where he goes to inspect it.
With this perfect storm and with John at the center of it all, there wasn¡¯t anything he could do as annoyed adventurers stormed to his office, complaint after complaint. At this point, he¡¯ll either need a drink or something sweet. And the tavern is also apparently out of alcohol. Of course it is.
Cutting his losses, John decided to go on a lunch break, and to also tear the damned sign from the Insect Dungeon¡¯s entrance. As he walked around town with his cloak on, he tried to enjoy the sunlight. What will happen will happen whether he¡¯s happy or sad, after all.
John appreciated the flowers on the windowsills of the small town, enjoyed how the grass was green in the springtime, but did not quite enjoy the fact that he occasionally sneezed from the pollen. This little mess with the Insect Dungeon did not go well with his allergies, especially not at this time of year.
He didn¡¯t have much time for a calming walk when today is one of his rare busy days, but today seemed dead-set on annoying him as he tripped on a rock and nearly fell on his face. Luckily, it seemed like nobody had noticed. After that slip up, he decided to visit his closest friend.
He headed to the bakery, sighing as he sat down. Luckily, it was just him and his friend; the owner of the bakery, Fizz. He looked at John with concern and some pity.
¡°I¡¯ll assume that the mess outside your office is gettin¡¯ to you?¡±
Fizz asked with a smile, trying to find the problem. He was a kind guy; John had known Fizz since Fizz was a teenager. Fizz had short, fluffy black hair, a white shirt, a pink apron, and black boots. Sometimes Fizz would have a skirt too; John had long since stopped questioning that. Fizz was just a silly guy.
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¡°I swear, they¡¯re like dogs,¡± John said, looking at the ground. ¡°Just when this town has something going for it, it all just crumbles. And, the usual.¡±
¡°Hey, don¡¯t let it get you down too much!¡± Fizz tried to cheer John up, putting a box of muffins on John¡¯s table. ¡°I¡¯m workin¡¯ on this new recipe using some of the stuff in the dungeon. Food used from dungeons usually tastes better, and it might take your mind off things.¡±
John raised an eyebrow.
¡°...But the nearest dungeon¡ is the Insect Dungeon..?¡±
¡°Just give it a try, it¡¯s not as bad as you think! Try not to question it.¡±
Fizz responded, simply waiting for John to try it out. With a fair bit of fear, John took a bite and was pleasantly surprised by the fact that it was, actually, somewhat palatable. Even good.
¡°You¡¯ve improved your muffin recipe again.¡±
John said with a smile. Fizz nodded enthusiastically before setting himself down next to John on the corner table of the bakery. Fizz never had too many customers, but he didn¡¯t mind; He spent most of his time making sweets anyways.
¡°That¡¯s right! What can I say? Muffins are one of the fun things to make,¡± Fizz said with a grin, ¡°And it¡¯s the first thing you ever tried from me. Anyways, you should try and relax; I know things have been chaotic lately between all the messes goin¡¯ on today.¡±
John nodded, not having much else to say as he quietly ate the muffins. Fizz didn¡¯t mind the silence, just sitting near him. After a few minutes, Fizz got him some lemonade to drink.
¡°Just for today, I¡¯ll give ya¡¯ another free box of muffins. I know you don¡¯t like it when you take things for free, but see it as a gift instead.¡±
Fizz grinned at John, shoving a box of decorated muffins in his hands. Fizz never seemed to care about the line between muffins and cupcakes; It would either taste like a muffin with frosting or just a normal cupcake. John didn¡¯t mind. A light smile on his face, John left the bakery feeling better than before.
Fizz always knew how to cheer him up.
John arrived at the dungeon, a box of muffins in his backpack with a tired look on his face. He didn¡¯t want to conduct an impromptu inspection, but if some prankster tosses a sign on the thing, then John might as well get it done for the week.
Time for some inspecting, and he can deal with the angry horde of adventurers later.
3: Spider Dance!
Lemrio was having a fantastic day, at least, in his terms. Although he was dipping slightly in his material reserves to create a brand new monster, it was fun! The spider creations he made earlier were more than eager to help him.
Starting was easy; Take the composition of the flaky, brownish part of the ¡®treat¡¯ and see how to make it so that the skin looks and ¡®tastes¡¯ like that. Was it immoral to have one spider bite another spider to check if it tastes the same? Of course not.
Going on an absolute roll, he continued testing. At long last, results came! He had managed to turn one of the spiders¡¯ skin into looking like a pastry. But, something still wasn¡¯t right¡ Lemrio had gotten the design down pat, but everything else could certainly use a bit more something.
Lemrio realized what was missing; There was some kind of goo inside of the treat, and he hadn¡¯t replicated that yet. The jelly did show up a bit on the outside, too! Lemrio knew it wouldn¡¯t be hard to replicate, since he¡¯d had to do something similar before with sap in the vines.
Becoming increasingly excited with how he¡¯d do things, Lemrio was going to continue adding onto the newly dubbed ¡®Pastry Spider¡¯ when an invader came in. Lemrio commanded the spider towards the adventurer, wanting to know if the adjustments ruined anything in terms of combat ability. Sure, Lemrio was going to lower the combat ability anyways, but he had to check first.
Lemrio was excited to watch his test interact with a real adventurer.
When John came in, what he didn¡¯t expect was the smell of donuts. Assuming that some stuck-up noble adventurer barged in and made himself at home in the dungeon as they tend to do, John was already ranting when he walked in.
¡°I swear, if I come over there and see someone, you are going to be detained by the Dungeon Association-¡±
And then, for the second time that day, John wished he didn¡¯t have this job. There was a human-sized spider - which wasn¡¯t abnormal for the Insect Dungeon - but the thing is that it looked like it was trying to be a donut. Like it was a donut in the shape of a spider, moving and breathing¡ and, was that powdered sugar? Baffled, John just stared at it.
Then it moved towards him, and John remembered that dungeons are dangerous. Luckily, he¡¯d already placed the box of sweets on the ground nearby before seeing the thing. Grabbing his sword, John got ready and waited for it to attack him. Dungeon Inspector policy states that you never attack first unless you¡¯ve verified that it¡¯s a threat; Otherwise, you might end up angering a whole swarm.
Nothing happened.
He remained wary of the thing, but it just walked right past him. Knowing that it wouldn¡¯t be smart to put his sword away just because it didn¡¯t attack instantly, John kept a close eye on it. Part of his job is to write down when something in the dungeon changes - Which hardly happens, dungeons tend to be pretty predictable - so John was examining every part of the thing.
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He watched it grab the box of pastries, and momentarily had a staring contest with it. After a few awkward minutes of silence, the donut thing just walked deeper into the dungeon, carrying the box away. John would¡¯ve been annoyed at losing his snacks, if it wasn¡¯t for how strange this whole situation is.
Realizing that he¡¯s going to be extremely busy from now on, John calmly sheathed his sword, walked out of the dungeon, and prayed to whatever deity would listen that he wouldn¡¯t need to deal with adventurers making a mess out of the ¡®new additions¡¯ to the dungeon when they inevitably found out.
Unfortunately, nothing answered his call as he quietly left.
Lemrio was feeling good. Although the adventurer that came in didn¡¯t choose to fight their ¡®Pastry spider,¡¯ they didn¡¯t react with slight disgust! Instead, he just stared at it in what was clearly admiration and hardly did anything when Lemrio commanded it to take the box!
Getting back to work, Lemrio started work on changing a few of the other bugs into snacks. He¡¯d just gotten so much more to work with as well, due to the box of assorted treats.
There were 4 kinds of treats in the box: A brown treat that the cockroaches in the dungeon seem to love, a slightly different brown treat with some kind of white, plush thing in it, a few lighter-colored treats with a yellow tint, and a treat that was - according to his bugs - chewier than the others. So many possibilities were right in front of Lemrio, and all he had to do was try them out!
First, Lemrio tried to do something he¡¯d attempted before with great success in the past: Disguising his bugs as other things. He¡¯d done great with that, so this should be similar. Taking a few moments to carefully examine the muffins, Lemrio finally realized a fatal flaw in his perfect plans:
Treats, muffins, and the sweet things his bugs and the adventurers like so much¡ expire very, very quickly. This was a problem. He pondered solutions, before eventually deciding to not depend on the original material nearly as much. As long as it looks the same, smells the same, and ¡®tastes¡¯ the same - as much as a spider can communicate what it tastes like - Lemrio was certain that it¡¯d be just fine. This probably won¡¯t make it taste different to the adventurers. What use would a complex tasting process have for them? Spiders don¡¯t need that.
After fixing up that little hiccup by slightly changing the composition, Lemrio went back to his original plan: Making his smaller ¡®swarm¡¯ bugs resemble muffins. Starting with a simple 6-legged spider of his, Lemrio started by copying the strange inedible wrapper that was on the brown muffin. Then, he carefully copied his version of the muffin flesh, replacing the spider¡¯s body and legs with the more stable version.
When he was done, Lemrio had a spider that looked like a treat. Success!
Lemrio let the little thing run around him for a while, watching how it seemed a bit out of place. But, it was never meant to disguise; It¡¯s meant for luring adventurers in! Lemrio wasn¡¯t quite done testing yet though, so he didn¡¯t take down the sign yet.
Lemrio made a few more variations of the ¡®treat spiders,¡¯ making one of every kind and learning in the process. Remembering to adjust the dough on the pastry spider as well, he was very satisfied with the day¡¯s work. Besides, the reserves of materials and magic he had were nearly out, and he just had to test out on more adventurers.
Lemrio was understandably excited when he told his spiders - both pastries and otherwise - to take the sign off the dungeon entrance. Yes, this shall be fantastic.
4: Fizz鈥檚 experiments!
It was evening, and Fizz was working on a few new recipes. He¡¯d wanted to work with the meat from the Insect Dungeon for the longest time, to add something interesting to his recipes. However, insects and pastries don¡¯t go very well together, and adventurers tend to avoid eating insects for some reason. Fizz never understood the disgust; Just be careful, cook them right, and they taste just fine.
Sometimes, Fizz would fry the bugs and toss them up in cheese. Did anyone else want to eat them unless he tricked them into it? Of course not! Did those who tried it enjoy it? Eh, sometimes. There was always that one person who ate something they thought was gross and went, ¡®Hm, not bad.¡¯
Fizz looked at the results of his work once he finished kneading: An easier-to-make dough that tastes identical to his main cake dough, but was more nutritious and might actually have the chance of filling someone up. The point of cooking or baking anything was, in Fizz¡¯s humble opinion, to sustain both the ingredients used and the one eating.
Now that he didn¡¯t need to rely nearly as much on those finicky suppliers that always seemed to be late, Fizz knew that his bakery was going great. And if it stopped, that was just fine with him too. Fizz loved his life. Continuing his work to see just how much kneading he could take out of the process, Fizz idly thought about the dungeon.
It was young, and could go a lot of directions; Insect dungeons tend to do all sorts of things, from swarms to snakes. To Fizz, all that meant was that there¡¯s a high chance of more ingredients; Strange ingredients that no sane man would dare to put into a cookie or a cake of all things.
After all, why not? Why wouldn¡¯t he eat it, if it wasn¡¯t poisonous? Well- Fizz would never eat a person or anything particularly sentient; He¡¯s not a monster. He just liked experimenting! Sometimes people would see what he was doing and question him. His favorite mess was the time he had cooked up something using alchemy ingredients, and got in trouble with a church for disgracing their god. He found it amusing, especially after they stopped scolding him and started actually considering if it was really wrong.
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¡He might¡¯ve used a few ingredients only available if you had a direct bond with a god, but he paid well for them. The warlock certainly didn¡¯t seem to mind¡
Regardless, Fizz loved his life, and this was just part of it. The point of his life - far as he knew - was to experiment, to test, to see what people love and make them happier. So many variations just waiting to be discovered; Some good, some so vile that it¡¯s a poison by technicality. It hardly mattered to Fizz.
Snapped out of his recollection, Fizz noticed that the timer had started beeping and that his oven was done. Oh, and that his tea was done too, based on the high-pitched wheezing of the old and abused teapot that had borne witness to things far worse than tea.
Today Fizz was attempting to see if spider meat would taste good in a pastry or not. From his ¡®testing¡¯ - Which had forced John to call a healer from how poisoned Fizz got a week ago - he knew that spider meat from the dungeon tasted similar to chicken meat crossed with crab meat, yet without that distinct fishy taste. Taking out the meat buns from the oven, Fizz poured himself a cup of tea paired with an antidote potion that John forced him to have and gently set the meat bun on his plate, preparing himself to see if it tasted good as it cooled down.
Fizz calmly ate the meat bun in relative silence, moonlight illuminating the man as he continued to munch on something that he really shouldn¡¯t be eating. He wiped some of the crumbs off his face, noting that it was a bit flaky. He¡¯d be sure to fix that in the next batch, but it still tasted decent enough.
He knew it could be better, however. He¡¯d make sure of it; Fizz ¡®Silly¡¯ Meringue would simply not allow something he thought was bad tasting in his bakery, he had standards! Sure, half the things he sold made people suspicious, but once the others in town tried it out, most of them actually liked it.
¡°Hm,¡± he hummed, idly setting a timer for 10 minutes to test if he had poisoned himself or not.
¡°Needs more seasoning.¡±
5: John Sucks At Titles
Dungeon Supervisor John truly regretted his career choice. Just as he¡¯d suspected, when he went out of the dungeon, a dozen people greeted him relentlessly, and he had to explain that not only was the sign put there by someone other than him, but also that the Insect dungeon would remain closed because of a sudden change in growth direction.
Luckily, most of the adventurers understood that the Insect Dungeon of all things having a change would render it unavailable, since the change could be anything from plagues to poison swarms.
That didn¡¯t mean they wouldn¡¯t complain, though. And complain they did, to John specifically. Sure, it was his job, but with a dungeon all the way on the outskirts he had expected things to go a little easier.
But it came time for him to do something he never thought he had to do: inform the Dungeon Association of the discovery. None of the books on insect dungeons mention the bugs turning into baked goods, after all. Despite John¡¯s hesitation, he knew that this could be very interesting.
Grabbing the pen Fizz gave him, John began to write a letter;
¡°To whom it may concern,
The Insect Dungeon at Ineptias Town has gone through a recent development where it has possibly taken up the concept of ¡®bugs¡¯ and ¡®baked goods¡¯. A spider with the smell and texture of a donut has been discovered during the latest check. As this is something that has not been documented before, this letter is requesting a team to study the cause and/or learn from the new development.
Best regards,
Dungeon Supervisor John, Insect Dungeon #23, Ineptias Town.¡±
There was no need to be fancy; The association valued directness rather than some overly elaborate note with a holier-than-thou attitude. John felt satisfied with the letter and calmly sent it out by artifact. The artifact in the middle of his office was a fantastic showpiece, but its¡¯ main job was to ensure easy communication between him and his employers.
John also appreciated that they didn¡¯t need titles on the letters, just stamps of importance.
Hoping that the association would be quick, John left and went to Fizz¡¯s bakery instead. Fizz may not have had any beer, but he always had a way of taking some of John¡¯s stress away.
John opened the door to be greeted with Fizz carefully carving through a spider monster that Fizz paid an adventurer to grab for him. Chuckling to himself, John walked in and started helping out. Sure, it¡¯s weird that a baker of all things would be using monsters, but it didn¡¯t matter all that much to John. He knew that he¡¯d probably end up being the second unfortunate test subject anyways.
¡°Long night?¡±
John queried, looking at Fizz¡¯s eyebags. Fizz laughed and shook his head, waving John¡¯s concerns off as he continued slicing through the spider.
¡°No, no, a productive one.¡±
John raised an eyebrow.
¡°Did you get any-¡±
¡°I haven¡¯t slept in 15 hours.¡±
John stared at Fizz for a long moment while Fizz tactically avoided his gaze.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.¡°Damn it Fizz.¡±
After a little while of dissecting the spider for reasons that John wouldn¡¯t like to know, he broke the comfortable silence.
¡°Anyways, so the Insect Dungeon¡¯s going to be closed for a little while.¡±
Fizz looked up and raised an eyebrow.
¡°Huh. Guess the rumors were right. From what I¡¯ve heard from some adventurers, it¡¯s closed because changes are happening. Right?¡±
John nodded.
¡°An unexpected change, yeah. There¡¯s a pastry spider that seems to be made of your jelly-filled donuts-¡±
Fizz stared at John with what could only be explained as a manic grin that slowly crept upon his features. John shut up, recognizing the look on his friend¡¯s face. He quickly shook his head, pausing his work.
¡°No,¡± John said.
¡°I need it.¡±
¡°No you don¡¯t, Fizz.¡±
¡°But I could do so much with it.¡±
¡°Fizz, no.¡±
¡°We¡¯re friends, right? C¡¯mon! It wouldn¡¯t be that much of a crime to let me in-¡±
John took his leather gloves off and cupped Fizz¡¯s face, staring him in the eyes.
¡°Fizz. It¡¯s probably poisonous. You shouldn¡¯t- You shouldn¡¯t even be making pastries with the normal spiders.¡±
¡°So I should make them with the pastry spiders.¡±
John leaned closer.
¡°As your best friend, and as the Dungeon Supervisor, I expressly forbid it. I¡¯m drawing the line here. It could be poisonous, or deadly, or - I don¡¯t know, - cause a plague in the town. It¡¯s an Insect Dungeon. They are notorious for plagues.¡±
Fizz¡¯s face scrunched up. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying and failing to figure out a good argument to that. John felt like Fizz got the point, so he let the poor guy go and put his gloves back on as both of them went back to work on the spider. John found it somewhat ironic that right after telling Fizz to not make pastries with one kind of spider, he¡¯s helping him make pastries out of another kind of spider.
¡°Sometimes, I wonder how you¡¯ve never killed anybody. It¡¯s a damn miracle.¡±
¡°I wonder that too!¡±
Fizz responded with a smile, which did everything except comfort John¡¯s quiet fears. Fizz continued.
¡°I mean, one time I put dragon meat in a cupcake I gave you-¡± ¡°You what.¡± ¡°-But you were fine, so I kept doing it until I ran out of ¡®em.¡±
John looked at Fizz. Fizz looked at John. John blinked, before his expression became genuinely bewildered.
¡°And¡ you¡¯re sure you¡¯ve got no magic in your veins? This is all just¡ your baking and your baking alone? You- I-... Buddy, I don¡¯t even know what to say to that.¡±
Fizz shrugged.
¡°You said you liked the secret ingredient. You were sad when I ran out of ¡®em.¡±
After a bit of silence, John found himself snickering. Then he started laughing, then he started wheezing. John often forgot that Fizz was more eccentric than he looked at first glance, but this was a pleasant reminder. Fizz joined in, happy that his friend was happy even if he didn¡¯t quite understand it.
It didn¡¯t matter if one of them kept accidentally trying to poison the other. It didn¡¯t matter that one of them was serious, and one of them was assuredly not. What mattered was their friendship, one that had stood the test of time.
And really, John was glad he visited the bakery. Fizz - odd as he may be - always knew how to lift his spirits. John knew that Fizz would bug him again about the donut spider later, but for now, they could continue chatting together as usual. John enjoyed his life, even if the world seemed gray to him...
And Fizz? Well, Fizz loved his life regardless.
6: Doremis Savior
Doremi had a boring job, and a boring life. Having just been hired at the Dungeon Association, the only thing she could do was sit and wait for an assignment to fall onto her. New things in dungeons don¡¯t get discovered all that much; All of the ¡®cool¡¯ things have already been studied and documented, and whatever stragglers remain are just little variations, like a cat having a new variant where it¡¯s a lighter color.
Point was, Doremi¡¯s job was to just sit around, do the odd tasks that they didn¡¯t specifically hire anyone for, and wait for something fun. She didn¡¯t get perfect grades at that stuck-up wizard school for nothing!
From the boring tests to the boring studying of boring spells that have been done a billion boring times, Doremi hoped that joining the Dungeon Association would at least have something interesting. And it did; But not for long. Sure, dungeons are undoubtedly - according to her - awesome, but there''s only so many times she could read about the six basic kinds of dungeons over and over again. There were Insect dungeons, Passive dungeons, Deadly dungeons, Rock dungeons, Water dungeons, and Volcano dungeons.
Insect dungeons are known for plagues, illnesses, and insects, Passive dungeons are known for plants, trees, and maybe a cove of rocks, Deadly dungeons got subdued as fast as possible, Rock dungeons in caves mostly made cool crystals all around themselves to disguise the real crystal, - and thus, require all the warning signs to make sure a miner doesn''t accidentally collapse one, - Volcano dungeons kept volcanos in check and used the heat to power themselves, and finally, Water dungeons that stayed underwater and helped out to filter the water around them.
Grumbling to herself about how unfair it was that she couldn''t do any of the fun expeditions and that she''d already read ''Dungeons 101'' for the umpteenth time, she was rather startled when she noticed someone leaning on the door. Her coworker and friend, Sola; A healer hired in the case she¡¯d ever need to go on expedition, and a medic for everyone else in the building. They''d known eachother in school, and fate shoved them together.
¡°Gah- When did you come in here? Actually, scratch that, it¡¯s not lunch yet- What¡¯s going on?¡± Doremi asked, looking at Sola with confusion as her words overflowed. ¡°Did you just want to see me? Did something burn down? Do I need to go on the most urgent snack run of all time?¡±
¡°We¡¯ve got an assignment.¡±
Sola responded simply, grinning like a Cheshire cat. It took Doremi a moment to realize that - based on Sola¡¯s expression - this wasn¡¯t just some ¡®Check out this slight variation in one of the species, see why it¡¯s there¡¯. This was something fun!
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¡°You¡¯re- You¡¯re not pulling my leg, are you? We¡¯ve actually got something fun for once?¡±
Doremi asked with hope, looking at Sola with a smile.
¡°That¡¯s right. There¡¯s word of an insect dungeon that has a spider made of donut. Just one - at least, according to the letter - but even if it¡¯s a variation, it¡¯s something far more interesting than some kind of fur pattern change.¡± Sola responded. ¡°So, let¡¯s go do our job.¡±
Doremi squealed, kicking her legs as she spun in her chair. Sola patiently waiting for Doremi to calm down, but she was practically hopping around the room like a bunny on fresh Pikio beans. Somewhat startled by getting squeezed in a hug and dragged into Doremi¡¯s excitement, Sola laughed.
¡°Cut it out, pipsqueak! Get your things ready and stop bouncin¡¯ around like a rabbit. I know you¡¯re a wizard so you hunger for knowledge as much as I hunger for snacks, but we should get ready.¡±
Doremi, unfortunately, did not stop bouncing around the place as she collected her stuff and kept asking Sola what they should bring. The trip wouldn¡¯t take all that long - The association was important to the structure of many towns, and they had a ridiculous amount of funds to spare when something interesting finally showed up - but nothing would be issued automatically. Taking their pick of things to bring, Doremi and Sola calmly got in the carriage.
The animals attached to the carriage weren¡¯t exactly horses; They looked more like large crows or ravens, making clicking noises at the driver - Tido - while he double-checked to see if things were properly ready to go. Tido took a moment to fawn over his beloved, ridiculously large crows, before sitting down and looking back at Doremi and Sola.
¡°You two ladies ready to ride?¡±
He asked with a childlike grin. Clearly, Tido was excited for this too. Although he wouldn¡¯t be directly involved, one of his favorite parts of riding around with his beloved mounts was how much they seemed to enjoy adventure. Tido didn¡¯t care if he was paid or not; He had his crows.
Meanwhile in the carriage, Doremi and Sola were chatting up a storm. Doremi was as excited as a little kid waiting impatiently for birthday presents, while Sola was more subdued. Doremi rambled away to Sola.
¡°-How do you think the dungeon figured out how to make the insects like baked goods? Do you think it did it with other insects in the dungeon too? Would it taste the same, or would it taste different? Speaking of tastes, what would they taste like? Imagine a spider that tasted like a muffin, looked like a muffin, but didn¡¯t move like a muffin because muffins can¡¯t move. Speaking of muffins, one time I found this really neat baker who had the strangest muffins I¡¯d ever tasted-¡±
Sola was paying attention and following along, but not for the subject matter. She just liked hearing Doremi get so excited; It¡¯d been a while since she¡¯d sounded so happy, and Sola planned to take in the nice sight of a good friend having a good time. Sola heard Tido¡¯s question and responded for the two of them.
¡°Yeah. Take off whenever you¡¯d like, Tido.¡±
Tido grinned, yelled to his birds, and they set off to the clear blue skies. They were curious and slightly stupid, but they were going to figure this out together.
7: Dessert Dog!
Lemrio was confused when nobody had come by for a few days. Sure, things were going great - He¡¯d already managed a few fantastic improvements and more variations for his treat spiders - but¡ nobody was there to test them. Nobody to fight. No magic to be gained.
This was bad. Lemrio appreciated that with nobody around, he wasn¡¯t in danger, but some part of him felt disappointed that he wouldn¡¯t be able to show his work to the ones he intended.
Plus, he thought that all of this would attract adventurers, not make them all stay away!
Brushing his thoughts aside, Lemrio decided to continue working. It wouldn¡¯t be hard to continue making more bugs, and he had a few ideas. The white, fluffy things in the treats - which were, apparently, marshmallows - seemed like a good idea to use for covering the feet of his spiders, both for their comfort and to make them quieter. Plus, Lemrio also wanted to start work on the ¡®dog¡¯.
He decided to work on that now, considering that it¡¯d been far too quiet lately. How many legs did a ¡®dog¡¯ have? Four. Lemrio started with making a spider and removing its¡¯ legs so it only had two legs on each side. Noticing that the spider seemed to struggle standing, Lemrio fixed that by simply making the legs stronger and more muscular. Now we¡¯re getting somewhere!
Lemrio continued thinking about what a ¡®dog¡¯ looked like. As long as it moved the same and looked dog-like, the adventurers would love it! Probably! He continued working on the creature, giving it a neck, a tail, a snout, ears, all the things dogs have. At least, the dogs he¡¯d seen.
After finishing the base, Lemrio began work on making it fit in the dungeon. Changing the fur to resemble the lighter yellow-ish muffins, Lemrio worked through another lonely night with no interruptions.
Finishing his work, Lemrio quietly admired it. Hopefully, the adventurers would find it ¡®cute!¡¯ Well, if they ignored its¡¯ few extra eyes. He was certain that two eyes was too little, so he allowed it to keep all eight of its¡¯ eyes.
Lemrio was certain that this would not backfire whatsoever. Now to just wait a little longer¡ Someone¡¯s bound to come in at some point, right? They always did. But it was still quiet. The dog didn¡¯t ¡°bark¡± like he¡¯d heard others do. How do things make sound, anyways? Lemrio idly pondered this. Once, before he decided to stop killing adventurers, one adventurer had told the other that they were impaled in the lung.
What was a lung? It sounded important to talking, since if one adventurer had it inside their strange, squishy body, then other adventurers did too. Something that all adventurers he¡¯d encountered had in common was talking. Didn¡¯t matter how, Lemrio vividly remembered how much his favorite adventurers would yap and cheer over the smallest things. Like gold!
What did they even use gold for? Lemrio thought it was, frankly, worthless. But, back to lungs. Adventurers had lungs and talked a lot. Dogs bark a lot. Maybe they have something like lungs? Lemrio knew it was a bit of a stretch considering that he¡¯d never heard an adventurer mention a dog having lungs, but¡ Lemrio didn¡¯t have other ideas.
How to make a lung? Lemrio didn¡¯t know, but he felt like he was on the right track. His bugs didn¡¯t need lungs, they worked just fine. What do lungs do? Do they do other things besides talking? Lemrio was utterly stumped, as he never had to consider this before.
Deciding to drop it for now, Lemrio went back to his musing. He quite liked how the dog turned out - He found it cute, personally - and decided to make a few more. Realizing the damp, somewhat moist environment of the dungeon isn¡¯t as effective when all the residents are snacks and treats, Lemrio made a choice. A good choice.
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A strange choice.
Lemrio decided that if he was going to make the insects of his dungeon into snacks and treats¡
Well, why not just¡ make the dungeon out of food, too? Of course, not all of it - That¡¯d be stupid - but just the parts that are visible? Internally giggling at this idea, Lemrio immediately commanded his subjects to start work, to make things look sweet and yummy.
Idly waiting for his spiders to do as instructed, Lemrio realized he should¡¯ve specified a bit more. Explaining in more detail how to do it, his insects figured it out and began work. It was slow - as was all work in the dungeon - but it was happening.
Lemrio¡¯s favorite part of his day was when he got to watch his little critters work so diligently. He never understood why some people thought his little guys were ¡®hideous abominations that should be burned under the glare of a thousand suns¡¯ - a quote he vividly remembered from a skittish adventurer that got crawled on by a dozen roaches - but he liked his bugs. They were efficient, and humans¡ Humans were not as efficient.
Idly watching his bugs go around, Lemrio felt a little lonely. Some could say he was starting to get rather¡ bored. Ever since the day he¡¯d gotten a taste of sweetness, he was enamored with it¡ but also with communication. Interaction. He hadn¡¯t put so much thought over how people think of his beloved bugs until that happened, until the day he put a name to himself.
Lemrio felt lonely. His bugs were adorable - Er, to him, - but they couldn¡¯t exactly talk. Lemrio knew what they were thinking, sure, but it wasn¡¯t the same as finding it out himself. Quietly, he found a bit of humor in that. For years he¡¯d thought that humans were odd for talking and chattering to eachother if they needed to or not, and here he was craving just that.
It was quiet, save for the clicking of the spiders and the scuttling of the roaches and ants. Lemrio was learning that he didn¡¯t quite like the quiet, but the noise filled it well. He found it a little odd that after two long years of being content with his defenses, he suddenly felt the need to do things and experiment all the time.
Boredom¡ It was a new feeling to Lemrio. It was nighttime by now, and Lemrio was still bored. That was until someone snuck into the dungeon quietly, carrying boxes¡ Boxes and baking supplies. Lemrio was curious as the adventurer snuck in. Usually they were loud, in order to gather attention from the bugs. Lemrio couldn¡¯t find any ill will - nor could he find something that had the chance to break him, such as a pickaxe - so Lemrio allowed this strange visitor to come in without stopping him.
The man searched around, looking for something. Curious, Lemrio watched him. He seemed fascinated by Lemrio¡¯s newly-made treat spiders, which was good in Lemrio¡¯s eyes! And then Lemrio watched him carefully pick one up, take a green flask out of his belt, and take a bite out of his spider.
Mildly confused by this - as previously, no adventurer would try and bite his spiders - Lemrio witnessed the man chew for a moment, hum in satisfaction, and finish off the spider, legs and all. Lemrio¡ wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about this. On one hand, the man¡¯s visit gave more magic than losing the treat spider did, but on the other hand, if all adventurers did that from now on, it wouldn¡¯t be in Lemrio¡¯s favor anymore.
Lemrio continued watching the man as he took out a box and collected some of the breading off the wall that Lemrio¡¯s spiders had just finished. This was odd¡ This was new¡ And after witnessing that, Lemrio wanted to know how the man would react to a pastry spider.
Sending the pastry spider to the man, Lemrio watched excitedly. The man, however, seemed far more excited than Lemrio was. Lemrio had anticipated his pastry spider to die immediately, so it wasn¡¯t a shock to him when the man promptly threw a blade at the pastry spider and chopped it up. The insides were still mostly spider goop, but some of it was the jelly that Lemrio managed to copy. Lemrio quietly berated himself for being so absentminded - How was he supposed to do this for all of his bugs if he kept forgetting the little details? - but he figured that he could fix that later.
The man didn¡¯t enter the hallway leading up to his core, but he did place down a pink box with a white ribbon before practically skipping out of the dungeon. Lemrio felt like he was doing something right, if the adventurer liked his treats so much that he got a gift!
Lemrio commanded a spider to open the box. Inside was a strawberry shortcake, decorated with a sort of fluffy icing, strawberries, and what seemed to be some kind of twirly chocolate tube. Lemrio couldn¡¯t have asked for a better gift if he tried.
Meanwhile, Fizz was praying that John was asleep.
8: Welcome To Ineptias Town!
Doremi, Sola, and Tido arrived at the village without fanfare. Save for John, who looked more tired than excited. John walked up to the three, raised an eyebrow at how much Tido was praising the crows for the journey, and then turned to look at Doremi and Sola.
¡°So, you two are the ones that¡¯ll go through the dungeon, I assume?¡±
¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Doremi said excitedly, hopping from one foot to the other. ¡°We¡¯re gonna need to know all the stuff you know, and then we¡¯ll be ready to go as soon as possible!¡±
Sola lightly tapped Doremi on the shoulder, reminding her not to talk John¡¯s ears off before she got too deep in talking. Doremi let Sola take the lead.
¡°As much as I¡¯d love to get to the point as quickly as my partner here, we¡¯re gonna need a place to stay. We¡¯ve got tents in the case that there¡¯s nowhere to go, but¡¡±
John nodded, noticing what Sola was referring to.
¡°The Incinerate Inn next to the bakery. You¡¯ll know it when you see it, considering that it¡¯s got a dragon skull on the sign. I¡¯ve already booked a room for you all, but you¡¯re free to book more. As is policy, I will pay for your stay, but not for your food or other supplies. Finally, do mind the baker. His name is Fizz, and he wants to eat the spiders.¡±
¡°I¡¯d wanna eat the spiders too, if they were made out of food!-¡± Doremi interjected excitedly, but John cut her off.
¡°Let me be clear. He wants to eat the normal spiders and the pastry spiders.¡±
¡°Oh.¡±
¡°As I was saying,¡± John continued, ¡°If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, the dungeon office of this quaint town is over there. I must inform you that I¡¯m the only one working there - considering that, just a few days ago, this was a far more normal dungeon - but I¡¯m sure you get the point.¡±
John grinned. ¡°Now, go have some fun. I¡¯ve rambled long enough.¡±
Doremi happily started running off, while Sola got their luggage and started heading to the inn. Sola didn¡¯t mind Doremi¡¯s excitement; It only made sense. Doremi¡¯s thirst for knowledge couldn¡¯t be quenched by anything except an archive of everything¡ But in what world would that exist?
Idly walking around town as Sola absently looked for the ¡®Incinerate Inn,¡¯ Sola heard the bakery next to it before seeing the dragon sign. That fact was mostly due to the maniacal laughter. Politely ignoring whatever madman resided in there, Sola unpacked all of her and Doremi¡¯s stuff while whistling a tune.
Doremi appeared not long after, joining Sola in their shared room.
¡°I went around town and introduced myself, and I¡¯ve learned a few things I think you should also know! That bakery nearby is committing tax fraud using a legal loophole,¡±
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¡°What.¡±
¡°The sign that says the Insect Dungeon is ¡®under maintenance¡¯ wasn¡¯t originally placed there by John,¡±
¡°What.¡±
¡°And this town apparently had a really good adventurer economy before the dungeon was closed.¡±
Sola stared at Doremi.
¡°Out of the three things you said, only one of them was normal. I don¡¯t doubt a dungeon wouldn¡¯t recognize that a sign on it means nobody enters, but that implies that the dungeon here has a bit more area than it should. You know how hard it is for a dungeon to get any area outside of the magic well that half of them appear on. That¡¯s why most dungeons, y¡¯know, don¡¯t end up taking the area of other dungeons. It just doesn¡¯t happen.¡±
Doremi blinked at Sola. Sola realized that although Doremi understood Sola, she didn¡¯t think it was all that important. Doremi smiled at Sola, noticing that her habit of rambling has been passed onto her friend at long last.
¡°Some dungeons are just silly.¡±
Sola smiled at Doremi before continuing.
¡°Anyways, I¡¯m glad you got to rush around for a while. Tomorrow at...¡±
Sola paused for a moment to look at the clock.
¡°At about 7:30, we¡¯re gonna go explore the dungeon, so wake up at around 6. In the meantime, I¡¯ll take a walk and get used to things, and you can do¡ er¡ Well, whatever you¡¯d like. Just try not to bother anyone.¡±
She said to Doremi, who nodded eagerly. Sola calmly walked out of the comfortable Inn and began to look around town, taking her time. It wasn¡¯t too much; Cobblestone roads, wooden buildings with wooden roofs, a small billboard in the middle of town for whatever passing adventurer to take up and get a little reward, simple things.
The town was small, sure, but it was nice. More like a village than a town, technically speaking. People idly walked on the roads, talking about inconsequential things like the weather, how their farms are doing, or their disappointment over the Insect Dungeon being closed. The middle of the town had a few stalls for snacks or food, although most of them were closed.
Looks like everything¡¯s doing alright here. Satisfied that they hadn¡¯t been sent to a town rampant with crime, - er, save for that odd bakery, - Sola started heading back to the Incinerate Inn. Then, since she was busy sightseeing, she accidentally bumped into Tido.
¡°Sorry, Ma¡¯am!¡± Tido said sheepishly to Sola, holding some meat buns in his hand. ¡°I wasn¡¯t lookin¡¯. Say, weren¡¯t you one of my passengers?¡±
Sola nodded, before idly shaking her head.
¡°We¡¯ve been coworkers for a few years, Tido. You should know my name by now.¡±
¡°Aw shucks, I know I should,¡± Tido started sheepishly, ¡°But the only names I remember are ¡®Kraa¡¯ and ¡®Cwoh.¡¯ But goodness, even they need to remind me what their names are sometimes.¡±
Sola snickered, but looked at Tido with concern.
¡°You¡¯re telling me that you can hardly even remember the names of your pet crows? I could try and heal your memory, but it¡¯s a little advanced-¡±
Tido responded very quickly.
¡°No. I¡¯ve got nothing against you, but, uh¡ I, er, don¡¯t like healing magic in the noggin. Might jostle somethin¡¯ I don¡¯t want jostlin¡¯, you know?¡± Tido tried to explain. ¡°Nothin¡¯ against you, I promise. Crow¡¯s Honor!¡±
¡°Alright then. Well, have a good day.¡± Sola said with a shrug, not wanting to pry as she waved Tido off. He gave a grin before scuttling off, probably to feed his crows. Sola watched the guy run off and idly noticed a little detail as she started walking back to the Incinerate Inn.
¡°Huh. Never noticed he had a scar on his neck.¡±
9: The Altered Pastry Snacks!
The next day, Doremi and Sola woke up early and got ready to search the insect dungeon and see what happened. Dungeons typically don¡¯t just undertake massive change in a few days, and the two expected the dungeon to have nothing more than a donut spider. All expectations were then cooked, deep fried, and served as dessert when they actually entered the dungeon, going past the sign.
¡°It¡¯s all¡¡± Doremi trailed off in disbelief, but seemed as excited as she could get.
¡°...pastries.¡± Sola finished, a grin on her face.
The entire dungeon, from the walls to the ceiling to even the floors, looked like it was made out of pastries. Icing outlined a path for them to walk on, chocolate crunching under their shoes. While Sola was frantically writing down every little detail, Doremi was just looking at the place.
¡°It smells like a bakery.¡±
She idly said, poking one of the walls and noticing how it¡¯s about as squishy as an actual cake. Sola started in awe.
¡°This rate of change; It¡¯s ridiculous! If John reported this about an hour before we got it, then it¡¯s only been¡ What, two, three days? That means that all of this is brand new. Doremi, I think we¡¯re watching history unfold. Or, at the very least, a very interesting dungeon.¡±
Doremi paid attention to Sola¡¯s words, but was more focused on the moth that landed on her nose. Doremi smiled.
¡°Hey Sola, look, a butterfly!¡±
Sola stopped frantically writing and looked at the moth for a few moments. Sola raised an eyebrow.
¡°Firstly, that thing¡¯s fluff is made of strawberry icing and secondly, that¡¯s a moth.¡±
Doremi raised an eyebrow as the moth haphazardly flew away in an unpredictable pattern.
¡°But it¡¯s so colorful? I thought moths were a bit duller.¡±
¡°No, you can tell it¡¯s a moth because it was resting with wings open. When moths land, they land with wings spread. Plus, moth flight patterns tend to be unpredictable compared to most butterflies.¡±
Sola idly explained while writing down every detail of the moth. Doremi wanted to question why Sola knew so much about moths, but decided to ignore that and instead continue searching around the dungeon.
The dungeon itself wasn¡¯t too big; The whole place was somewhat small compared to more developed dungeons. Only 2 floors. Doremi and Sola finished writing down everything they could about the first floor; The walls, the smell, the odd muffin and cupcake spiders they had seen, and the icing moth.
As they went down a floor, they saw it.
¡°So that¡¯s the donut spider that John was talking about in the letter.¡±
Doremi said, looking at the spider as it carefully tended to the walls, using icing like webbing. It was an odd sight, but Doremi and Sola agreed that the sweetness - if the web was still as sticky as most dungeon spiders¡¯ webs - would do a fantastic job at catching more bugs. In an odd way, it was an advantage.
¡°Well, aside from the general oddness of this dungeon,¡± Sola said, gesturing to the spider with her dagger, ¡°It¡¯s actually surprisingly peaceful. I know this dungeon wasn¡¯t that much of a hostile one, but I was expecting a little resistance.¡±
Doremi shrugged.
¡°Neutral dungeons are like that. ¡®I fight you if you fight me,¡¯ that sorta thing. Maybe the dungeon only gets ¡®¡®nervous¡¯¡¯ when we get too close to the core. Speaking of, we do need to check the core¡¡±
Sola nodded in agreement and the two tried not to ruin any of the spider¡¯s webs as they walked through the final little hallway. Entering the core room, Sola and Doremi were caught looking at something they didn¡¯t expect at all.
¡°...Okay, hear me out, I know ya¡¯ can¡¯t speak, but I think that you¡¯ll like what I¡¯ve brought this time. So, spider muffins an¡¯ cupcakes are a great idea, but what about cookie cockroaches? It¡¯d be really cool, I think. I¡¯ve made som¡¯ dragon scale cookies with the last of my precious supplies, and I think that you¡¯ll be able to figure it out real easi-¡±
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Fizz stopped in his tracks when he noticed the two women at the core room entrance.
The core room of the dungeon had a table in the middle, a shelf on the side, a damn oven settled right next to the core, while the core itself was embedded into the wall. The only normal part about this was how the core was in the wall like a crystal, but other than that, this was unheard of.
Firstly, a dungeon would never just¡ let someone place all that stuff in the room. Dungeons typically prefer their core to either be surrounded by natural clutter - such as rocks, stones, sticks, grass, things like that - or prefer their core room to be clear of clutter so that they can defend themselves correctly.
But this? This? The dungeon made no sense anymore. You can¡¯t befriend a dungeon; That¡¯s the first thing written in the guidebooks at the Dungeon Association. And here this random, odd man was, a tray of freshly baked cookies in his hands, a pastel pink apron that said ¡®Hug the chef!¡¯ and a white hat.
¡°...Er¡ Hello.¡±
Fizz said, putting his cookies onto the table before awkwardly waving at them. Sola and Doremi sorta just stared at him for a long moment, before Sola said exactly what they were thinking.
¡°...What?¡±
Earlier, Lemrio was trying to think of a good way to add more to his dungeon. The strawberry cake he¡¯d been given was certainly a massive help, but a part of Lemrio wanted to know how the adventurer made it to begin with. It was dark outside, and Lemrio was alone again.
He missed the days when adventurers of all kinds would barge in, kill some of his critters, and leave. Sure, it seemed a bit rude, but he ultimately got more magic than he lost and he liked when brand new adventurers killed a bug for the first time and celebrated over it.
That was until the man from a few nights ago came into the dungeon. Excited - noticing that the man had a backpack full of things - Lemrio got his pastry spider to try and get the man to the core room. The man hadn¡¯t done anything before, so Lemrio trusted him.
The man was reluctant but did follow the pastry spider into the core room. Lemrio was a bit confused when the man began talking, seemingly to Lemrio. Adventurers didn¡¯t talk to him most of the time so this was new! Lemrio listened carefully, using all his knowledge to try and understand. Lemrio luckily managed to get enough to understand the gist of what the man was saying.
The man¡¯s name was Fizz, and he wanted to help Lemrio! Lemrio was very excited for this, especially since Fizz claimed to be a treat maker of some kind. Fizz explained an offer - Another thing that Lemrio had never been given before - and it went like this;
Lemrio would give Fizz a workspace in whatever area fit best, and Fizz would both protect the core and offer new pastries to incorporate. This was fantastic for Lemrio, and it was very easy to agree. Sure, Lemrio didn¡¯t actually know how to read, but he got the general gist from Fizz¡¯s words.
Lemrio did struggle a bit to make what Fizz called ¡®measuring cups,¡¯ mostly since they had to be very exact. After a few hours of frustration while making all the supplies Fizz would need, Lemrio¡¯s core hummed in excitement at his work, knowing that more things were sure to happen. Fizz seemed excited too, based on how he was unloading the things in his backpack onto the shelves.
Fizz left and reentered the dungeon a few more times that night, but made sure to cover his tracks well. He didn¡¯t want John to realize that he wasn¡¯t exactly sleeping tonight. Luckily, most adventurers actually slept at night in this town, considering that everything tended to close once it got too dark to see without a lantern or a torch.
The two may not have been able to truly have a conversation, but they understood each other through actions and words anyways. When Fizz was working, he¡¯d ramble about every little detail and why he adds one spice instead of another. He only noticed that Lemrio was actively listening when he wished for cinnamon and watched a cupcake spider stumble back with some cinnamon in a little jar.
Lemrio enjoyed hearing Fizz¡¯s rambles. And, due to the few cookbooks Fizz was reading out loud coupled with the fact that he tended to read by dragging his finger across the page, Lemrio started to learn a bit about the written language adventurers used as well.
Fizz promised to return when he left at daybreak, and Lemrio was happy. Lemrio, although hardly knowing what the word meant, thought that Fizz was his friend.
So, when two people he noticed but didn¡¯t pay attention to came closer, Lemrio was suspicious. Fizz didn¡¯t seem to be worried and the new intruders seemed similar to the gift giver in their goals, so Lemrio held back from attacking or commanding his spiders to fight.
Lemrio tried to understand the conversation as the three interacted with eachother. From what Lemrio could understand, Fizz was explaining the contract that he made with Lemrio while the two adventurers thought he was lying. Lemrio got a little nervous, which was reflected in his insects; Only one of the adventurers noticed the fact that the dungeon was getting quiet. That¡¯s a somewhat foreboding sign in a dungeon filled with scuttling and cricket chirps at most times, to put it lightly.
Regardless, Fizz seemed to wrangle his way out of the confrontation. Lemrio didn¡¯t quite catch all of it, but he¡¯s pretty sure that Fizz agreed to tell the two adventurers everything about Lemrio. Lemrio didn¡¯t mind; He liked being talked about. It made him happy, in some sort of way.
When the three left together, Lemrio didn¡¯t mind at all. Putting his attention to the cookies instead, Lemrio was excited. Fizz¡¯s proposal for a cookie insect of some kind fascinated Lemrio¡ How would he pull it off?
Excited, Lemrio began working. He had the whole day, after all.
10: Crow-Tastic Discoveries
Currently, all John wanted to do was lay in his bed for an unhealthy amount of time. To just¡ sit around for a while. But, he forced himself to get up and face the day regardless, knowing that doing nothing would be worse than facing his problems head on.
Getting up and making sure to take some care of himself, John ate some breakfast before scuttling out of his room and heading to his job, relieved when the only people waiting to talk to him were Doremi, Sola, and Fizz. The fact that Fizz was there made John assume that either the dungeon¡¯s oddness was Fizz¡¯s fault - and, really, John wouldn¡¯t mind that - or that Doremi and Sola found Fizz trying to eat something blatantly poisonous in the dungeon.
Either way, John assumed Fizz did something.
¡°So, what¡¯s the verdict?¡±
John asked, sitting down in his chair while the three others sat down on three chairs in front of him. Doremi seemed confused, but Sola explained it easily.
¡°The dungeon¡¯s strange¡ And filled with things never seen before¡ But, it¡¯s safe to delve in. It¡¯s a neutral dungeon and that hasn¡¯t changed. We¡¯ll be able to open it by the end of today, if nothing too drastic has happened.¡±
Doremi nodded in agreement.
¡°It¡¯s filled with baked goods-¡± John glanced at Fizz, who quickly looked away, ¡°-and although it¡¯s incredibly unorthodox, the chances for new material are far better than before. It might not be good for blacksmithing like the spider¡¯s exoskeletons were before, but it¡¯ll bring a lot of tourism to the town if people find out.¡±
John smiled, but sensed something odd.
¡°So, if I may tackle what I assume is the main issue¡¡± John gestured at Fizz, ¡°...Why is he here? No offense to you Fizz, but still. And if it¡¯s about his blatant tax fraud, then don¡¯t worry about it, he found a loophole but isn¡¯t doing anything illegal.¡±
Doremi tried not to smile too obviously, knowing that John¡¯s reaction will be good. Sola, on the other hand, had no issues with the grin on her face. Fizz started explaining idly, knowing he couldn¡¯t really lie after telling Doremi and Sola the truth. Mentally, Fizz prepared for John¡¯s reaction.
¡°So, I snuck into the dungeon not too long ago in order to collect some materials.¡±
Fizz started, tactically avoiding John¡¯s exasperated gaze.
¡°I might¡¯ve given the dungeon a strawberry cake in the hopes that it would, I dunno, do whatever it did to the pastry spider¡¡±
Fizz continued, and John tried not to sigh. Sola found the dynamic entertaining, while Doremi was wondering if something bad would happen.
¡°...An¡¯ I might¡¯ve given it a contract that it signed by using a spider, and perhaps I set up a little bakery in it, and maaayyybbee I¡¯ve been using that little spot for the past while.¡±
Fizz said sheepishly, finally looking at John. John had his head in his hands. Fizz finished.
¡°I think I could call me n¡¯ the Insect Dungeon friends.¡±
John muttered something about management as he dropped his hands to his side. Doremi and Sola sympathetically nodded, understanding some of what John had to suffer through when he inevitably had to inform some higher up about the dungeon.
¡°I assume you two already know how ridiculous this situation is?¡±
John softly asked Doremi and Sola, deciding to mentally deal with the problem later and see what he can do in the moment. Doremi and Sola silently nodded, while Fizz was looking awkward in his seat.
¡°Fizz¡ do you understand why miners don¡¯t just toss in gold into a Rock dungeon with the hopes that the dungeon will start making gold?¡±
John asked Fizz. Fizz shrugged, and John continued.
¡°It¡¯s because dungeons have a knack of twisting or pushing things to be in their favor. The dungeon might copy the look and feel of it, while twisting part of it. It¡¯s a miracle that an Insect Dungeon - such as the one we have - hasn¡¯t managed to poison you.¡±
After a moment of silence, John allowed himself a little chuckle. He added.
¡°Although, maybe that¡¯s just because you¡¯ve ingested so much poison from the place already that you¡¯re immune. Honestly, who can tell?¡±
John cleared his throat.
¡°Point is, something¡¯s fishy. You don¡¯t make friends with dungeons, unless they¡¯re getting more out of this than you are. I don¡¯t believe the theory that they¡¯re fully sentient, but I do believe that they have basic goals: Kill adventurers, get magic, make better defenses.¡±
Fizz considered it for a moment.
¡°So¡ why did it let me bake in its¡¯ core room, then?¡±
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John hadn¡¯t considered that, and neither did Sola. Doremi, however, was optimistic in her view of this.
¡°Well, maybe it likes you or something! I¡¯ve heard of dungeons randomly being a bit nicer to some than they are to others. That could be it!¡±
John just sighed.
¡°Well, regardless, I¡¯ve got to compile all of this as a report. Doremi, Sola, keep delving. See if things change, and report to me if they do. Fizz, uh¡¡±
Fizz twiddled his hands awkwardly.
¡°Fizz¡ Just don¡¯t get yourself killed, alright? I¡¯ll allow you to continue baking in the core room - ridiculous as that is - as long as you just don''t¡¯ get hurt. I don¡¯t want to see you hurt. Now, all of you, politely leave. You know how it is; Gotta get things done fast.¡±
Doremi and Sola gave a thumbs up and left, while Fizz put down a muffin. John stared at Fizz, Fizz stared at John. Giving in, John ate the muffin; Strawberry jelly, not bad.
¡°Fizz, if you teach the Insect dungeon how to make jelly and it makes a slime monster, I¡¯m going to blame you for all the adventurers¡¯ that lose their clothes to acid.¡±
Fizz just laughed and walked out of the room.
¡°Alright! I¡¯ll try not to!¡±
John sighed for the tenth time that day, starting to write down the report.
Meanwhile, Tido was trying to look for something his crows could eat. Too much sugar would upset them, not enough protein would make them unhealthy, and if it tasted bad, his beloved pets just wouldn¡¯t eat it. He was lucky that the inn John set all of them up with had a good spot for his crows, although a little cramped.
Idly checking his beloved crows to make sure they¡¯re in good shape, Tido idly talked to them.
¡°I¡¯m glad you two don¡¯t fly away from me. What¡¯d¡¯ya think of a meat bun for lunch today? You two like meat buns, right? That bakery has a few.¡±
Kraa - his favorite crow, with a bit of a nip on both his wing feathers - made a sort of gurgling noise. Cwoh joined in, and Tido smiled.
¡°I¡¯ll take that as an agreement, then! Meat buns it is.¡±
Tido made sure to refill both of their water bowls before leaving, but left the pen unlocked in case they wanted to get out. He was certain that they could get out regardless, but didn¡¯t want to cause any unneeded property damage. Walking through the streets of the fairly pleasant town, Tido enjoyed his stay.
Since all he had to do was transport Sola and Doremi, and maybe grab materials if they asked him, he had the rest of the time to do whatever he¡¯d like. He preferred to spend that time tending to his crows. He noted that the bakery was closed, but that¡¯s alright. His crows wouldn¡¯t mind if he got something different. Heading to the butcher instead, Tido greeted the butcher.
¡°Good evening, miss! I was wondering if you had any particularly protein-filled meat.¡±
She nodded and meekly gestured to the selection. Tido whistled; He was impressed. Even if she hadn¡¯t hunted it herself, this was a good amount of meat. Carefully selecting the kinds that he knew his crows loved the most, he paid the price for his small selection and left the shop to start looking for good seasoning, and maybe some nuts or berries. Oranges would be nice, too.
He may have spoiled his crows just a little bit in his search for a ¡®quick lunch.¡¯ He wanted them to be happy, after all! Besides¡ Sharing a meal with them was one of his favorite pastimes, considering how pleasant they were to exist near. Continuing to collect a good amount for Kraa and Cwoh while avoiding things like chocolate, peppers, and mushrooms, Tido idly wondered about the meaning of it all.
He enjoyed his life, yes, but he knew he could ¡®be more.¡¯ That he could be better. He thought about what his life could¡¯ve been while he cooked the meat and boiled a few eggs. Plating up two large bowls for his crows and a simple plate for himself, Tido remembered how he met Kraa and Cwoh.
He had been adventuring with a party - as most kids his age were doing at the time - and got separated from them by a particularly sudden rockslide. He hated it; the loneliness, the cold, the fact he couldn¡¯t figure out a good way out. When he looked up, two large black birds had been flying circles above him for a while now.
Scavengers? A threat? He wasn¡¯t sure, but he loved animals. Something he remembered well was the birds he¡¯d feed before he started this dumb quest. Hell, he even kept some bird food on him at all times in case he saw a neat bird¡ Deciding that he¡¯d rather ignore his issue for a little moment instead of go deeper into his panic, he got out his jar of bird food and sprinkled it out in front of him. The sound caused the two birds above him to curiously dive down.
Tido¡¯s eyes widened when he noticed just how massive these crows were. He knew that sometimes animals came out bigger, smarter and stronger from magic lines or something, - he hardly paid attention in school - but he didn¡¯t know it¡¯d be that big.
He sorta just sat there in awe, his backpack resting beside him with the jar of food in front of him. He didn¡¯t really resist when they came closer and started eating the food from the source, he sorta just watched. Instead of flying off when the food was finished, they had settled down next to him.
Somehow, Tido found himself rambling to them, his fears of the mountain and worries about going home just spilling out. It was easier to tell the animals instead of other humans; he didn¡¯t expect them to fully understand half the nonsense he was spewing.
Well, that was until one of them just picked him up with its¡¯ claws and started flying off. No matter how much Tido loved birds, he couldn¡¯t help but panic. He froze up like a stiff log while the bird flew him off to who-knows where, before getting put down on the path.
¡°...Wha¡ What?¡±
Tido sorta just stood there. After a few moments, the other crow flew over with his backpack, putting it down next to him. Tido looked up at the two crows. One of them had already begun flying away. The other - the one that set him down originally - was staring at him.
It had a small bit of both its¡¯ wing feathers missing, for some reason. Tido gave it some of his jerky before it flew off.
¡°...¡±
From that day onwards, Tido learned an unreasonable amount of information about crows in order to learn more. He returned to that mountain, week after week, bringing food. Plenty smaller crows had begun to befriend him as well as the bigger ones, and he kept as many trinkets from them all as he could. The day came when he had to leave to accept a job at the dungeon association as a simple intern¡
¡And the crows had followed.
What a sweet memory. Tido looked at his beloved crows while they ate the food, occasionally dipping some of the bread into water to make it easier to eat. Smiling, he ate his own meal, even if some of it got stolen from him.
Tido decided that even if he could¡¯ve been a different person or got a different job, he wouldn¡¯t dare to.
Four Tasty Side Stories
SIDE STORY: JOHN¡¯S INTERVIEW
¡°Why do you want to be a Dungeon Supervisor, John?¡±
The man asked, looking at John from across the table. John had a smile on his face, confident that he¡¯d pass this interview with flying colors. John made sure he got enough sleep the other night so that he¡¯d be at his very best, and it was now or never for him.
¡°I want to take care of a dungeon, promising to keep it in check and to show others at the association if or when something happens. I want to take care of a town¡¯s adventurer economy and take care of relations between a dungeon and the town that could be built around it.¡±
He responded with his well-rehearsed answer, but he couldn¡¯t stop himself from grinning. The man looked at John, his lips quirked up in a smirk at the clear enthusiasm.
¡°Well, you¡¯ve certainly got some drive. Are you aware of what the job entails?¡±
John nodded.
¡°Of course. I¡¯ll need to observe the dungeon, inspect its¡¯ top 5 floors weekly and its¡¯ lower floors yearly.¡±
It was quiet for a moment as the man wrote the answer down, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. John didn¡¯t mind the silence, feeling confident in himself and his abilites. His father was a Dungeon Supervisor and so was his grandfather¡ To John, that just meant it was his duty to keep up the tradition and do better than his parents ever did. He wanted to uphold their legacy, after all.
The man asked a few more questions which John answered, until he was hit with a question he hadn¡¯t expected.
¡°Even if things go entirely wrong, will you swear to stick with your assigned dungeon until you are dismissed?¡±
John had to think about that. He wanted to be honest like he was in the previous questions - Honesty was the best policy, in his eyes - so he had to pry the answer out of himself. Eventually, he smiled.
¡°I may not be able to stick to it fully, but I¡¯ll damn well try.¡±
¡°Good answer. You¡¯ve got my full approval, kid; When you¡¯re ready, we¡¯ll toss you to a dungeon. Can¡¯t say it¡¯ll be a good one, but it¡¯ll surely be interesting.¡±
The man said, grinning and holding his hand out. John couldn¡¯t help but mirror the smile, shaking the man¡¯s hand. Feeling like the world was in his favor as he sauntered out of the door, John was busy in his own fantasies of how he¡¯d handle things and wasn¡¯t quite looking where he was going.
He bumped into someone that seemed younger than him. The teenager he bumped into started stuttering and stammering apologies, holding a box of pastries in his hands like he was rushing to get somewhere with them. In too much of a good mood to be bothered, John forgave the kid easily.
¡°Hey, hey, it¡¯s fine. Don¡¯t worry about it, kid.¡±
The kid mumbled to himself, but seemed a bit too shy to look at John directly. To be fair, John was taller.
¡°I ¡®aint a kid, my growth spurt¡¯s just slow.¡±
Feeling an odd sense of connection with the teenager, John held his hand out.
¡°Alright then. Well, what¡¯s your name? I¡¯m John, John Delver.¡±
¡°My n-name¡¯s Fizz, just Fizz. Is ¡®delver¡¯ really your last name?¡±
Fizz asked innocently. John realized his mistake in holding his hand out to someone that didn¡¯t have a spare hand, and chuckled to himself as he pulled his hand back. He idly gestured to the tag on his leather vest.
¡°Yep, says it on my nametag. And Fizz, huh? You seem like a nice guy. What do you say you and I head out and, I dunno, get some sweets together?¡±
John noticed how Fizz¡¯s eyes lit up at the idea. Fizz started rambling a bit.
¡°Oh, I¡¯m a-actually trying to become a baker! If it¡¯s n-not too much of a change from what y-you were originally thinking, you c-could try some of the snacks that I¡¯ve made. If that¡¯s okay. My previous testers have¡ decided to, uh, not trust my food anymore¡ But I swear it¡¯s nothing dangerous. Just muffins!¡±
John raised an eyebrow, but decided that the guy couldn¡¯t mean any harm.
What¡¯s the worst that would come out of accepting muffins?
SIDE STORY: FIZZ¡¯S FIRST DUNGEON
Oh, he was not ready for this.
From getting abandoned by his party after paying them specifically to protect him, to getting lost in the maze-like dungeon, Fizz would say his day wasn¡¯t the best. Luckily, he¡¯d gathered tons of ingredients; He could just feel that one of them might be edible if he tried hard enough, which was a thousand times more than what he had before!
¡The amount of money he had to pay for anti-poison potions was astronomically high¡
But that¡¯s alright with him. Stuck in a dungeon, alone, with no contact, in a dungeon. He was going to make it out of this just fine, because he always did. Fizz believed in his luck, since it never led him wrong before. Smelling something curiously spicy, Fizz followed his gut and started walking towards it. Deeper into the dungeon he went, having to use his somewhat cheap sword to fend off monsters if he wanted to or not.
Luckily, the dungeon seemed somewhat neutral to his presence - the core was a dozen floors down, - but it was still known for loving a good ambush. Fizz kept his guard up the whole way, before finally reaching the den.
And, er, he wasn¡¯t ready to be face to face with a dragon. A very, very pissed dragon, because while he was walking in he just had to accidentally step on some of it¡¯s treasure. The next thing Fizz knew he had to fight for his life, tooth and nail, dashing and tumbling and getting his cloak burnt.
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¡°THEY DIDN¡¯T SAY THIS DUNGEON HAD A DRAGON!¡±
Fizz yelled to himself in exasperation, tumbling to the ground. Oh, he really wished John were here right now. Maybe he knew some kind of weakness that Fizz didn¡¯t know, since - in Fizz¡¯s humble opinion - John was a nerd.
Rudely snapped out of his thoughts by the snap of a jaw that narrowly missed him, Fizz had no time to consider his options. All he had were various monster parts, baking ingredients, and a flimsy sword that was melting from the flames. Fizz had to think quick on his feet, doubly so since the ground had started to melt. Say what you will, but the guy could only run so much.
Struck with a stupid idea, Fizz stabbed his backpack with his half molten sword and slashed it back out, running on top of the treasure stacks before jumping and screaming like a little girl while attempting to either stab the dragon or get himself eaten by the dragon. Due to the fact his backpack was previously filled with monster gore, the sword itself had monster guts and gore just¡ slathered on it, like the breading on a chicken nugget.
The dragon understandably ate the sword, which made Fizz¡¯s hand burn like hell. Already stuck in momentum, Fizz grabbed one of the dragon¡¯s teeth to keep purchase before flinging himself out of the dragon, rolling on the ground before glancing up, certain he was about to die.
Luckily or unluckily, the dragon also ate something else that was in the backpack. Fizz¡¯s ¡°special blend,¡± - a cluster of every single herb he¡¯d ever countered, used only when he either hated the taste tester or wanted to see what would work in his foods - was filled with all sorts of poison, because Fizz didn¡¯t know a thing about botany.
¡The dragon died, instantly. Not because it ate the sword of molten metal or anything, just because what it had just eaten was so vile, so disgusting, that it just couldn¡¯t. It didn¡¯t want to exist to taste it more. Fizz awkwardly squinted his eyes open upon hearing the thud of the body, noticing that the dragon was just¡ dead.
¡°...haha¡ I¡¯m alive! I¡¯M ALIVE! HAHAHAHA-¡±
Fizz proceeded to laugh like a maniac. After he stopped, he realized that his backpack - although somewhat burnt and a little unsuitable for meat - was empty, and that the rarest meat he¡¯ll ever get was right in front of him.
Fizz grinned, ideas and plans running through his head. Wouldn¡¯t this be a lovely secret ingredient? Maybe John would like it¡
Smiling like a maniac, Fizz got to work. It took him a while, but he did it. He harvested as much dragon meat as he could carry and shoved it into his backpack, wheezing the whole way out of the dungeon. Someone found him and led him to the exit, and Fizz was too tired to get their name.
Either way, he was ambitious¡ and a bit too risky. But this was his life, and Fizz loved his life.
SIDE STORY: THE INSECT DUNGEON¡¯S FAVORITE ADVENTURER
It felt nothing.
Intruders came and went, creatures that only wanted to shatter its¡¯ core. It couldn¡¯t allow that, so it created the most dangerous thing it had been in contact with that would never turn on it; Insects.
It didn¡¯t have anything to do. Just keep moving the core down, keep hiding. Perhaps one day the pesky intruders won¡¯t return. It didn¡¯t have to do too much, of course; The few intruders who did have weapons usually left before causing too much of a ruckus. But it had been a while since it had last seen anyone.
Where were they? It questioned, but saw this as a positive. It was safe now. Nothing would hurt it. Then another intruder came in, a basket of food in the intruder¡¯s hands. It knew it was going to steal the food; It would be a resource. While pondering how it would go about it, the intruder gently placed the food basket down onto the ground.
The intruder bowed.
It was very, very confused. An¡ offering? That was only given to it when it told its¡¯ spiders to collect something for it to absorb or use. This was unheard of! Insanity! An intruder, daring to-
It noticed that one of its¡¯ spiders had already begun nibbling on some of the jerky. It didn¡¯t force its¡¯ beloved creation to stop, knowing that it was happy. Reluctantly, it allowed others to join and informed the other creations of this strange gift. It knew that if the spiders had consumed the food, it was safe; They had a knack to avoid anything that had the slightest chance of being dangerous to eat, much to its¡¯ dismay.
¡°#####! ## #### ## ####. ##¡¯## ## #### ####### ##########. # #### ## ### ## ######!¡±
The invader- The gift giver started making sounds. It didn¡¯t like the sounds, but there was a clear ¡®truce¡¯ in effect as the gift giver had given it a gift. After some more sounds, the gift giver left.
From then on, every week, the gift giver would look around the dungeon without harming anything. It allowed this, remembering the act of peace when it had first met the gift giver.
It liked the gift giver. One day, it wanted to give the gift giver a gift in return. Unfortunately, it had forgotten that little dream a long time ago.
But if it ever did remember; If it ever recalled that little dream, then it would certainly give the man a gift.
He was its¡¯ favorite adventurer, after all.
And it¡ It felt happy.
SIDE STORY: LEMRIO BURNT HIS BREAD TO A CRISP!!!!
It hadn¡¯t been too long since Lemrio had last seen Fizz. The bakery inside the dungeon was idle due to him not being there, but all the ingredients were there anyways. Lemrio¡ well, he was a little bit bored, and a little bit curious. He¡¯d seen Fizz make ¡®bread¡¯ before, and wanted to try making some himself.
What¡¯s the worst that could happen?
A measly 20 minutes later, Lemrio was trying to understand where he went wrong. He was sure he followed the cookbook correctly; At least, the page that he was on looked a lot like bread¡ So where did he fail?
Grumbling while spending a bit of magic to replenish the supplies - He didn¡¯t want to inconvenience Fizz too much with his testing - Lemrio decided to try again. This time would be better, he was certain; His bread would come out edible! That was his goal.
Then he burnt his bread to a crisp, again.
Somewhat frustrated - a new feeling for him, oddly enough - he consulted his spiders on what they thought he was doing wrong. One of them said that maybe it was because he wasn¡¯t making a web and trying to get the material himself. When Lemrio tried to question how that would apply to baking bread, his spiders didn¡¯t have a good answer.
Continuing to work through the hour, Lemrio grew frustrated. His bread never came out right no matter what he did, it seemed. Was he putting it in for too long? No, he was certain he was doing things right, the little egg clock thing was set to the time it took. Lemrio was only trying to cook a small bread bun, after all.
Maybe it was the ingredients? Lemrio thought he knew what things were, but he didn¡¯t actually know if he was measuring things right. Sure, he was using the ¡®measuring cups,¡¯ but he didn¡¯t really know what a cup was. He thought cups were things adventurers drank out of sometimes, but he also thought those were called flasks and not cups. Confusing.
Lemrio figured it out; He was putting the bread into the fire, and not on the area above the fire! Feeling brave, he tried one last time to make a small amount of bread. It had worked, he had done it! Lemrio was very proud of himself.
Sure, it was a bit toasted, but one of the bravest spiders he had nibbled on it and said the inside wasn¡¯t as burnt as the outside, and thus, edible. Feeling satisfied with this, Lemrio replenished Fizz¡¯s supplies, removed all the evidence of his own shenanigans, and put the burnt bread in a corner where he wouldn¡¯t need to think about it anymore.
When Fizz returned to the smell of charcoal, he was a bit confused¡ But, he quickly forgot about it as he began cooking cookies, rambling, and generally just existing in the dungeon. Once he was done, Fizz idly explained to the dungeon- If it was listening or not.
¡°So that¡¯s how you make cookies, dear dungeon! Okay, hear me out, I know ya¡¯ can¡¯t speak¡¡±
11: Every Bomb Has A Silver Lining!
John finished his report and wanted to complain to someone. But, he didn¡¯t, since he knew that venting to someone without plans of actually doing anything would make both of them feel worse. He believed that unless he was trying to find solutions to his problems, then he shouldn¡¯t be making others feel pity for him.
He remembered his oath, and despite everything, he smiled. It was a meaningless smile, but he smiled. Ultimately, this didn¡¯t matter. He¡¯d be okay, his dungeon would certainly grow, and the town would expand to accommodate that. He may have been tired, exhausted, but he knew it would be fine in the end.
With that thought, he decided to take the rest of the day off. Not like he¡¯d really need to announce that; Lucky for him, the news hadn¡¯t gone out yet and adventurers were unaware. John wanted to prepare everyone for it when it happened, but that¡¯d be hard to do. He would just need to trust that the people in his town - both ones he knew personally and ones he hadn¡¯t actually talked to - knew how to handle their shops or stores when adventurers rushed in like a swarm.
Things would be alright, as they always have been. Thanks to the dungeon closing, there weren¡¯t as many adventurers; They¡¯d all left for better jobs elsewhere. Going outside with his favorite brown cloak, John walked.
He had no destination, no goal. But that was alright too; Sometimes walking can clear someone¡¯s mind better than anything else. One of his favorite locations that he often ended up wandering to was a grove in the forest. It felt magical to him, in an odd way.
There wasn¡¯t actually any magic there, but it felt like it all the same. Flowers blooming everywhere, sunlight gently filtering through the maple tree leaves¡
John sneezed.
¡And his allergies. That too. He didn¡¯t mind it all that much, really. The view was worth it to him, even if he occasionally had to pause to get into a sneezing fit. He remembered the time he took Fizz to the area. Fizz had been teaching him to make a flower crown, and John had sneezed 4 times in a row. Fizz burst out laughing and called him a chipmunk, since his sneezes were somewhat high pitched.
John chuckled at the short memory, but didn¡¯t linger on it. Just stood around, enjoying the breeze but keeping his guard up for things in the forest. No matter how much he denied it at times, or how he jokingly told himself that he didn¡¯t want to work as a Dungeon Supervisor anymore, he did.
He may not have admitted it to himself as Fizz did, but John enjoyed his life. If things went to plan, he¡¯d have much more life to live before it all ended. He didn¡¯t mind that it would end; it made it meaningful.
He spent a long while just existing in that area, sitting down on a rock. Sometimes he saw some interesting animals; When he had a surplus of freetime - which, he admitted he probably wouldn¡¯t have again for a while - he enjoyed going to the library to read up about the things he saw. Some bugs, some birds, maybe a neat lizard or frog, it was a nice way to waste his time. Everyone should slow down once in a while, he believed.
Slightly smiling, John headed back to town. Maybe he could check on Fizz- Well, if he wasn¡¯t in the Insect Dungeon. John paused; That wasn¡¯t right anymore, was it? It wasn¡¯t exactly filled with ¡®insects¡¯ anymore, it was filled with baked shenanigans. He wouldn¡¯t call them anything else, it was gonna stay baked shenanigans as long as Fizz was involved.
Considering that, he decided that he¡¯d just let Fizz name it instead. Now that the dungeon wasn¡¯t like any other dungeon, it needed a name of its¡¯ own. John sucked at titles anyways, so it wasn¡¯t his place to put one on the dungeon. He took his sweet time wandering the town, idly waving to people he passed by.
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John enjoyed remembering why he wanted to do all of this to begin with compared to what his motives ended up being. Now his main concern is the happiness of the people around him, and really¡ That¡¯s about it. John¡¯s certain that as long as people are happy around him, he¡¯ll be alright with that.
He could reach out for more, but he was never the kind to force life onto the floor. Instead, he just cruised along. Finding himself sitting down on a park bench, John allowed himself to relax. It was a nice day that day; No clouds in the light blue sky, flowers in bloom. It was a bit chilly - That¡¯s how spring was in Ineptias Town - and John liked it that way.
He didn¡¯t like the heat, but Fizz did. Maybe that¡¯s why the bakery was at a ¡®comfortable¡¯ 80 degrees. John admitted that it kept the goods warmer for longer, but still!
Ridiculous.
John paused when he noticed someone tending to their crows in the Incinerate Inn¡¯s stable. Huh. Crows. In a stable. From what he recalled from meeting Doremi and Sola, the guy that got them all here was tending to his crows in the background. Tido, was it?
More than a little curious, John went over to say hello to Tido.
¡°Hey, your name is¡ Tido, right? I was wondering how you take care of your crows.¡±
John idly started, getting to the point of his curiosity quickly. Tido smiled awkwardly.
¡°Er¡ Yeah, that¡¯s me. This is Cwoh,¡± Tido gestured to the comparatively smaller crow, ¡°And this is Kraa. I take care of them both by feeding them, making sure they have clean water, and giving them ample exercise. Sometimes I, um, give them puzzles to do. Crows are about as smart as a 7-year-old, but since these two tapped into a magic line while they were in their eggs - or something like that, I¡¯m not sure, - they¡¯re a lot bigger.¡±
John hummed in curiosity, before asking with a smirk.
¡°I¡¯ve seen massive birds before, but I never knew you could tame them. How many times has some stuck-up adventurer wanted to buy one because they think it¡¯d be cool?¡±
Tido blinked and answered with a straight face.
¡°Too many times, but each time someone asked, Kraa or Cwoh would peck them in the shins.¡±
John was taken off guard and started laughing. After a moment, he looked up and noticed Tido was being serious. John promptly stopped laughing and paled for a moment, sympathy for the poor souls in his heart. Tido continued.
¡°Anyways, they¡¯re really easy to take care of. When they really need something, they just get it theirselves or ¡®tell me¡¯ about the problem by nudging me a lot. I love my crows, and I like to think they care about me too!¡±
John remembered something.
¡°Did you, by chance, attract other crows? I¡¯ve heard more of them in the trees than I usually do, which is new.¡±
¡°They just follow me, I guess.¡± Tido said with a shrug, before awkwardly looking away. ¡°I hope nobody¡¯s too superstitious here, since crows have been said to foreshadow death or misfortune. They don¡¯t mean any harm, though! Did you know that the reason people think that is because they usually follow armies into battle? They don¡¯t really join in, but they wait around until the aftermath to start pecking at the corpses. They¡¯re scavengers, after all.¡±
John allowed Tido to explain more about his crows for a while before leaving, waving goodbye. John headed back to his office, making a small note in his mind to check the library at some point to learn more. Back in his office, John smiled to himself.
Today may have been a little hard compared to other days, but he handled it well. That was something to be proud of, even if it didn¡¯t seem like it. A day spent getting better was a good day to him.
Deciding that he¡¯s used up all his free time, he sent out the report. His problem would be tossed to someone else for a little while, which was good enough for him. He shut his eyes for a moment, a bit of tiredness coming over him.
Eh, he¡¯s done what his job needs of him, time for a nap.
12: Lemrio And Fizz Loaf Baking!
Fizz was working on more sweets; Today, he was working on a jelly. Internally, he hoped that the dungeon didn¡¯t do anything with the jelly; John would scold him for allowing it access to slimes, no matter how harmless. Most of them tended to be acidic, anyways, and Fizz hated working with them.
For a moment, his hands clenched. Slimes¡ They were useful for making jelly - he was using some slime organs to make the jelly in the first place - but he loathed the slime race. If it was up to him, slimes just wouldn¡¯t exist. Now, someone might look at his thoughts and find them unreasonable; Slimes didn¡¯t really do anything wrong, per say. They just¡ drifted around, munching on dirt or whatever else. They were actually incredibly helpful to their chosen environment.
But Fizz hated them not out of spite, or because they had bested him one too many times - although they certainly had - he hated them because they were nearly impossible to cook with. He¡¯d tried buns, he¡¯d tried cakes, he¡¯d even tried cupcakes and muffins, merianges and frosting¡
But everything - except a well-processed jelly - didn¡¯t take in any flavor, at all! None! Nada! It didn¡¯t matter how much seasoning he had thrown onto the thing, it was like it took the flavor and never gave it back. Even the sweetest thing he put onto it hardly worked. It was practically a blessing from the gods when someone else had told him that he could make jelly with them.
Grumbling to himself while he stirred the slimy mixture with a bit more ¡®enthusiasm,¡¯ he noticed that he was nearly out of sugar. This wasn¡¯t too much of a problem - He¡¯d just need to refill it and he had enough for the jelly - but he muttered his dismay regardless. He loved making treats of course, but sometimes it had a little frustration in it.
¡°I¡¯m out of sugar already..?¡±
For a moment, Fizz felt a bit down. It¡¯d been a while since he felt that tinge of genuine displeasure at something. Well, it didn¡¯t last long when he got gently nudged by a little muffin spider, precariously balancing a jar of sugar on its¡¯ head. Fizz quickly relieved the poor thing of its¡¯ burden, before confusedly looking over at the core.
The core that had started to turn from a mild brown to a soft pink. He didn¡¯t know cores could change colors; He didn¡¯t even know what the colors meant. But he did know his manners. He nodded at the core before setting the empty jar on top of the little spider - whom promptly rushed off with it - and putting the new jar where it should be.
¡°Thanks, dungeon.¡±
Fizz said with a nod to the dungeon, content. He didn¡¯t know they could do that! He should¡¯ve paid more attention to the few times John rambled about dungeons.
If he did, maybe he¡¯d realize this level of understanding wasn¡¯t normal, and that a core changing color was unheard of. But he was far too busy making jelly, muttering at his cookbook, and rambling to the air.
Lemrio was feeling great, having done a fantastic job helping his friend. At least, he thought of Fizz as a friend; He wasn¡¯t sure, and he didn¡¯t actually know the word ¡®friend¡¯ in the first place. Lemrio had to scratch his memory to remember what ¡®sugar¡¯ was, but he¡¯d done a good job. At least, he hoped he did, since it wasn¡¯t rejected.
Idly continuing to listen to Fizz¡¯s mutters while trying to associate it to the word and what he did next, Lemrio was learning a lot compared to before when he was only able to attach words to meanings sometimes - Said words include ¡®Spider,¡¯ ¡®Roach,¡¯ ¡®Disgusting¡¯ - His least favorite word in relation to his beloved siders - and ¡®Gold.¡¯ Adventurers liked gold, but Lemrio found it a bit too¡ Well, he wasn¡¯t sure, but it just didn¡¯t feel right to have it in his dungeon whatsoever.
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Lemrio noticed that Fizz wasn¡¯t doing what he usually did. Instead of kneading dough or mixing batter, he seemed to be mixing some kind of translucent material. Lemrio¡¯s curiosity peaked long ago, and he was watching this process with all his attention. Listening to the rambles - even if he could only understand some of it - and trying to record this to his memory. Fizz continued working, adding sugar to sweeten things up, and squeezing oranges to add the juice in. He even put a bit of orange zest too, but only a bit.
Too much would overpower the flavor.
Muttering and mumbling to himself, Lemrio started to notice how words had a varied but not unlimited range of vowels. 2 kinds of sounds related to ¡®a¡¯, 2 kinds of sounds for ¡®e¡¯, 2 for ¡®i¡¯, 2 for ¡®o¡¯, 2 for ¡®u¡¯... It was a lot to keep track of for Lemrio, but he had kept track of the location of all his spiders before - a hard feat for a human - so he was doing alright.
He idly tried to consider how to make those sounds. It seemed like he would need an adventurer or something¡ But again, he just didn¡¯t get it. Something wasn¡¯t clicking. But Lemrio knew he would probably use this at some point, and at least, he was starting to understand some of the instructions. Dungeons learn fast or die, usually.
Fizz was unaware of that, continuing to make some jelly to add to one of his cakes. Lemrio stopped focusing so much on vocabulary and understanding when he realized how things were forming; Fizz put the jelly in the middle of the cake and stirred it.
¡°...An ice cube would make this process faster.¡±
Fizz idly remarked to himself, but didn¡¯t expect anything out of it. Due to the fact Lemrio had no idea what ice was, he couldn¡¯t help, but he gosh darn wanted to! Lemrio racked his mind for a while before giving up, deciding that giving random objects to Fizz in hopes one of them could be ¡®ice¡¯ would do nothing but make him annoyed.
Fizz finished up his orange cake and began decorating it with slices and icing. Thanks to Lemrio, he hardly ran out of anything. Sure, Lemrio had to spend more magic than he gained with that, but he got it back due to just how long Fizz had stuck around. Satisfied, Fizz looked at his work and hummed.
¡°Hmm¡¡±
He felt like the cake was missing something. Fizz squinted at the cake for a few minutes, before another muffin spider came up with rainbow sprinkles. That was it! Fizz grinned and took the sprinkles, adding it to the cake. Now it was perfect; Now it was good for eating. Satisfied and feeling somewhat giddy about how the dungeon had helped out a few times, Fizz decided that he shouldn¡¯t just take the whole cake out.
Cutting it into slices and leaving half the cake on the floor for the dungeon and its¡¯ inhabitants, Fizz left happy. Well, for a short moment he wondered if it was technically cannibalism for him to have indirectly offered the cake, but it didn¡¯t matter to him. He was having a grand time in the dungeon! He knew it¡¯d probably get harder for him to get into the little ¡®secret bakery¡¯ he had in the core room when the dungeon started focusing on making more floors, but that was alright with him.
Fizz loved his life, no matter the twists and turns.
Lemrio also loved Fizz¡¯s life, at least, the parts he saw. Fizz was the one who stayed the longest, and due to the fact he wasn¡¯t really killing any monsters - all the ingredients in the dungeon were being supplied by Lemrio, there just wasn¡¯t a need to - he was practically a magic generator for Lemrio. In all honesty, Lemrio wanted to just keep Fizz. Make him a little home in the dungeon so that he wouldn¡¯t need to leave and so Lemrio could learn even more¡
¡But Lemrio rejected that idea the moment it crossed his core. It didn¡¯t feel right to keep Fizz in the dungeon for longer than a week, even if it wasn¡¯t against his will. Fizz¡¯s ramblings about his day wouldn¡¯t have any more surprise to them if Fizz started living all his days in the dungeon!
Satisfied with the explanation he scrambled to make up for himself, Lemrio decided to try his hand at baking jelly like Lemrio did. He was certain that this would totally go perfectly fine, and he would not burn anything, and everything would be fine.
¡He might¡¯ve burned most of his batches, but he managed to make something resembling a cake! Satisfied with this, Lemrio set it down on the table and put very clear restrictions for his spiders to not take even as much as a little touch of the cake. It was for Fizz! Lemrio thought he spelled Fizz¡¯s name right - or at least put something similar to it - and he felt good.
Lemrio realized that even if he wasn¡¯t good at it, he found baking fun!
13: The Clocks Still Ticking!
¡°What..?¡±
Lime asked, staring down at the report as they read it, reread it, then reread it one more time. This was nonsense- Friends with a dungeon? Baked good insects? It just didn¡¯t make sense. It took the rules known about dungeons and spat on all of them. Dungeons can¡¯t do anything unnatural-
But here it was, using baked goods instead of naturally occurring rocks or insects like it used to.
Dungeons can¡¯t be befriended-
But here it was, with a man named ¡®Fizz¡¯ baking- Baking in the core room!?
If Lime was just a rookie, Lime wouldn¡¯t have believed it. But the very first policy in the Dungeon Association was simple; Be honest at all times, or your job gets thrown to someone else. John had been supervising the dungeon for at least 5 years, and he wouldn¡¯t just throw that away to make a distasteful joke.
Lime just didn¡¯t understand how to feel about this. This was certainly a discovery that would make Ineptias Town go down in history, but would practically shatter the foundations that all the rules had set. Of course, there were always exceptions, but this many? It made no sense¡ And yet, just like others in the association, Lime couldn¡¯t help but smile.
There¡¯s never a need to be scared of new things, as long as they¡¯re controlled well. Since everything seemed fine - aside from the nonsense happening in the dungeon - no action needed to be taken. Letting the information out before the ones testing the dungeon are done would only cause them issues, so Lime decided to put the report where it should be and wait in hopes they¡¯ll get to visit soon.
The news will probably get out soon, anyways.
Lemrio was thinking to himself, uncharacteristically distracted from Fizz¡¯s baking for once. When more adventurers came in, wouldn¡¯t it get harder for Fizz to bake? Lemrio knew that adventurers always distracted him too much for him to make much progress, but he didn¡¯t want that to happen to his dearest friend! Considering this, he decided to command his spiders to block off his core with a door, like the one on the cupboards Fizz showed him.
Fizz raised an eyebrow at seeing things happen right in front of him His little amount of knowledge around dungeons says that unless they¡¯re in mortal danger, they avoid building in front of adventurers like the plague - but otherwise focused on baking some lime pie.
Lemrio was happy with how it ended up looking, but just a door wouldn¡¯t do. It wouldn¡¯t do at all! He wanted Fizz to be able to easily go through the dungeon, maybe with some kind of tunnel like how Lemrio¡¯s ants snuck around. But adventurers are upright, so it would need to be more tall than wide¡ Plus, Lemrio didn¡¯t forget that it should only be for Fizz.
Hmm¡ This was going to be hard to do. The best idea Lemrio could think of at that time was creating a hollow cake spider so it could ¡®eat¡¯ Fizz and safely transport him inside of it, but adventurers seemed to have a very large fear of being eaten. He didn¡¯t want to scare Fizz.
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Out of ideas, Lemrio decided to just decorate the door to his core a little bit and add a door to the entrance of the dungeon. Small changes, but he liked how it looked. It seemed good enough to him, and Fizz didn¡¯t seem to mind.
Lemrio remembered how occasionally Fizz would leave the dungeon to get some ¡®fresh air,¡¯ which meant that the air wasn¡¯t fresh enough in the dungeon. He also remembered that Fizz usually had to bring his own water due to how the dungeon didn¡¯t have ¡®clean¡¯ water. This was a problem, because it inconvenienced Fizz and that made Lemrio feel bad.
After a few moments of thinking, Lemrio decided to change things. Not wanting to get dirt into Fizz¡¯s baking, Lemrio patiently waited for Fizz to leave. It took a while - and Lemrio paid rapt attention, as always - but once he was gone, Lemrio began to work.
Dorem and Sola were considering what they planned to do when the news was freely let out. John had given them a deadline earlier that day; By the end of the month, John would tell the Dungeon Association the new name of the dungeon, what they¡¯ve dubbed its¡¯ ¡®type¡¯ as, and any other important details will be scribbled down in a handy packet.
The two knew that they¡¯d get a slot to delve the dungeon with John on a monthly basis, so they planned on getting a nice house in the area together at some point. Ineptias Town seemed like a nice spot to settle down and they¡¯d be able to learn more for the Dungeon Association so they¡¯d still get paid; Win-win!
Every important dungeon has more than one person paying attention to it, and the Dungeon Association won¡¯t leave John to perish under the weight of all the things he has to handle. However, after getting their plans sorted out together, the two were a bit exhausted. It was time for a lazy day. Deciding to meet up together with Tido at the tavern near the inn - which, for some reason, didn¡¯t have a name, - the two went out together.
Tido, meanwhile, was trying to figure out if it was alright for him to bring his crows to a tavern or not. The tavern allowed dogs, sure, but his crows were¡ a bit too big. Even if he only brought one, Cwoh was almost as big as a horse and Kraa was bigger than Cwoh. Eventually settling on leaving his crows behind again, he told them that he¡¯d be back in a few hours.
Sitting down at the somewhat quiet tavern - adventurers weren¡¯t around as much since the dungeon closed off - Tido liked it. It was quiet, he could see birds outside, and flowers were in bloom. Idly ordering a cup of pikio for himself, he idly sipped on the hot drink. It was just about midday; Tido wondered where his coworkers were at. They said they¡¯d be here right about now-
Tido noticed that Doremi and Sola had just entered the tavern, lightly waving to him. He smiled. Tido didn¡¯t know Sola all that well, but he knew Doremi from how she would pet his crows before heading home. His crows liked her, so he liked her. He might have forgotten her name one too many times, but that was alright; He didn¡¯t really need to know names to know that she was nice.
¡°Good morning, Tido.¡±
Doremi said idly, sitting down across from Tido. Sola sat down next to her, and thus, the three began chatting. Tido told them about how he was having fun, practically on vacation in the place. Sure, he had to do one or two odd jobs to pay for his crow feed, but things were easy and quiet in the town. He liked that. Doremi and Sola told Tido about their plans for the future, and Tido suggested being some kind of carrier. He knew that the dungeon association would either call him back to transport others, or they would tell him to stay and help out.
Either way, he got to stay with his crows, so he was happy. After suggesting the idea they discussed it some more. Doremi found a fair bit of irony in the fact that after setting this up to relax and stop thinking about work, she just ended up talking about it more. Sola, on the other hand, didn¡¯t mind as much; These things had to be done.
When that was done they all went their separate ways.
14: Dungeon Inspecting, Nighttime Musing.
It was time for an inspection. Since Doremi and Sola had already done their part to check through and report back, it was time for him to check through and add his own thoughts to the report. Since the two said it wasn¡¯t dangerous in the slightest, John was free to check it out himself and even get a peek at the core room.
John was glad that the dungeon was still as neutral as ever, and a small part of him¡ A part he thought flickered out ages ago¡ Well, it was hungry for more knowledge, just as everyone else in the Dungeon Association tended to be.
A light smile on his face, John investigated the dungeon. He didn¡¯t trust it enough to eat from it - that¡¯d be stupid, and he wasn¡¯t Fizz, - but he did trust it not to bother him much while he inspected it. The dungeon tended to continue normal activities even if John was here. The ¡®pastry¡¯ spiders were capturing flies in sticky, sugary webs seemingly made of caramel, the ¡®cupcake¡¯ and ¡®muffin¡¯ spiders seemed to have a little turf war of sorts going on, and-
John snickered at what he saw. It looked like the dungeon tried to make a donut rat of some kind. It looked goofy, sure, but it was rolling around just fine and seemed happy with its¡¯ odd little life. But that was something to write down; John had a theory that the dungeon was going to start expanding further out than just insects and bugs, and this was good enough proof to him.
John impulsively picked up the creature. It flailed in his hands, but didn¡¯t seem to actually have any defensive or offensive abilities. Gently setting it back down, he watched it roll away. It made him happy to see it for some reason he couldn¡¯t pinpoint; It was just so¡ Well, he wouldn¡¯t call it cute, but it made him smile.
Continuing into the dungeon, he noted the details. Sola and Doremi did a great job writing down what they saw, and John didn¡¯t find much to add except for the few smaller details, such as the possible ¡®ingredients¡¯ in it. Continuing to walk through, John found the bakery he feared he would find; Right in the core room, just as Fizz said. Speaking of Fizz, it seemed he was experimenting a bit too much; He was currently asleep on the floor.
That didn¡¯t seem comfortable, or healthy, but John could relate. The fact the core didn¡¯t do anything was interesting to John. As he idly glanced around the kitchen and tactically avoided waking Fizz up, he noticed all the things that the dungeon made for Fizz. John couldn¡¯t help but mutter to himself.
¡°...Damn it, Fizz.¡±
Chuckling softly, John wrote down all the details he thought were important; The dungeon added a ventilation system of sorts - the room seemed fresher - and smoothed out the floors, walls, and ceiling. There were doors in the dungeon now, and it had - seemingly - made Fizz a whole set of all the things he said he wanted. Huh, it even had a pasta presser. John didn¡¯t know Fizz wanted to make pasta.
John noticed the core slowly changing color, but that was the one thing that didn¡¯t surprise him. When a core has so many drastic changes, it should reflect that; The colors reflected what a core would usually end up doing, anyways. Compared to everything else, this was the only thing he did expect.
But, as that was yet another first for dungeons, he scribbled it down anyway. He stared at the core for a moment. A lopsided star, pressed into the wall, with dirt framing it. He didn¡¯t touch it to wipe the dirt off - despite how he wanted to - because he knew it¡¯d likely start panicking if he did. Cores were like that.
Deciding that it was easier to accept this nonsense at face value rather than question and redefine it against what he knows about dungeons, John shrugged, wrote everything down, and shoved the notepad in his pocket before picking Fizz up in a bridal carry. Fizz couldn¡¯t just be left out to dry like a piece of burnt bread, and John had the keys to his bakery.
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Fizz lived in his bakery; It was part of why he didn¡¯t need to pay taxes.
John calmly headed to the bakery and dropped Fizz off, sorta just plopping him on his bed before leaving as fast as possible. Firstly, the bakery was too warm for John. Secondly, he felt like he was intruding whenever he went to the upper floors; That¡¯s where Fizz lived, after all.
Quickly leaving and heading to his office in the cover of night, John was struck with the fact that, for days, he had forgotten to ask Fizz to name the dungeon. John shook his head as he continued heading to his office to get some sleep, deciding that he¡¯d just make a note to remember it. He might¡¯ve taken a page out of Fizz¡¯s book, but unfortunately, he paid his taxes directly to the Dungeon Association; No escaping that.
Increasingly tired as the stress of the day was allowed to settle on him, it felt like an effort to do his nightly routine. He did anyway, since he knew that if he stopped now he wouldn¡¯t continue. For some reason, habits were hard for John to make; Once he started something, he either continued or stopped. Quickly adding his notes to the report - although it felt like it took longer - he lazily chugged a cup of water before dropping on top of his bed like a sack of potatoes.
Meanwhile, Lemrio felt conflicted. He was looking at his memories to try and understand what else he could improve with his knowledge, when he noticed just how many adventurers he¡¯d killed. He hadn¡¯t felt anything before - If anything, it was a boon due to the magic they spilled out - but¡ Now he just felt bad. Really bad.
He didn¡¯t understand why he felt bad. Was it because he had started seeing some adventurers differently? The gift giver, he always wanted to give a gift back in return, but that was different because the gift giver wasn¡¯t other adventurers. And the baker - Lemrio was on the fence if the baker¡¯s name was ¡®Fizz¡¯ or not, - seemed to be someone Lemrio cared about too.
Lemrio didn¡¯t get it. Why does he only care about some of the adventurers? Why only one or two, instead of all of them? He didn¡¯t want to ¡®hurt¡¯ anyone. Before, he just didn¡¯t care. He couldn¡¯t find it in himself to care about the intruders that often barged in, killed his spiders, and left with their flesh. But now he started understanding why they wanted his spiders.
The baker baked with his spiders. The gift giver examined and didn¡¯t bother his spiders. Perhaps other adventurers had their own reasons to do things to his spiders, too? With understanding came guilt, guilt that Lemrio didn¡¯t understand. He hadn¡¯t killed many - Only six people had ever perished in his halls - but he felt terrible after revisiting the memory. There was only one death he would never regret, when someone had harmed John.
After a moment, Lemrio decided that he didn¡¯t like the new feeling. He didn¡¯t want to kill anyone ever again, but his instincts reminded him that he would have to in order to protect what he loves. He wanted them to admire his bugs, to be happy and impressed with the things they saw. He even wanted to share his love of baking, the love that the baker had given him. He wanted to give gifts, like how the gift giver did so long ago.
Some part of Lemrio smiled. It was an awkward smile, and one that couldn¡¯t be seen on the outside, but some part of him was glad that he realized this now. His goals have been set in stone now. But first, he wanted to right the wrongs, in some small way. He considered how he would do this, before settling on something.
Lemrio told his spiders to start building. He made sure to adjust little details himself, to make sure that everything was perfect. It wasn¡¯t much, he didn¡¯t have room for something big and flamboyant. Five small statues, one for each adventurer that he¡¯d destroyed except one. At one point, he would¡¯ve seen it as an achievement- But not now.
Lemrio stared at the statues, considering his past. He didn¡¯t really feel connected to his memories, not anymore. Some part of him just felt like it wasn¡¯t supposed to be there. It was like watching videos, really; Seen and heard, but not truly experienced. Only the memories after that donut seemed ¡®full¡¯ in that way.
Lemrio felt like he would be okay, however. Everything would be okay, and he would protect his new friends.
Friends. That was another thing that Lemrio liked, and Lemrio internally reminded himself to call the gift giver- Er, John, by his actual name. Sure, John was unaware of the fact that Lemrio knew his name at all, but it was the principle of the thing in Lemrio''s eyes.
ALL MY FELLAS 1: FIZZ BREAKS INTO A BANK!
¡°You¡¯ll never take me alive, coppers!¡±
Fizz was running on the rooftops as fast as he could, a bag of money on his shoulder with a wand in his left hand. Things were going great at first when he managed to sneak in undetected, until his getaway driver was a no-show when the police barged in. Running quickly and trying not to lose the money he gained, Fizz pumped his legs faster than he ever had before.
¡°Where are you, Tido!?¡±
Fizz yelled into the sky, narrowly dodging a small fireball from some sort of magical source. Deciding that figuring out if they were a wizard or a sorcerer was stupid, Fizz continued running. He jumped and dashed from rooftop to rooftop, hearing the cries of pegasuses behind him, before he jumped and there wasn¡¯t exactly a roof.
¡°Oh, come on-¡±
All of a sudden, a massive crow swooped in, catching him at the last second before flying away. With how crows were sleeker, cooler, and generally lighter than a typical winged horse, Fizz knew that everything would be okay. Seeing his best pal in the whole world on the saddle in front of him, Fizz grinned.
¡°Tido, you crazy son¡¯ov¡¯a¡¯gun! And here I thought I was done for. Where were you?¡±
Tido smirked, responding with ease.
¡°Fraid¡¯ I had to get the fuzz off my feathers ¡®fore I could come and get them off yours. Broke into a bird food store since their prices were too high and my crows were hungry.¡±
Fizz noticed that both of them were on the same crow.
¡°Speaking of your crows, where¡¯s the other one?¡±
Just then, a majestic crow glammed out in stolen gold jewelry flew close, a loud ¡®CAW¡¯ coming from the seasoned thief. Fizz grinned, while Tido started maniacally laughing.
¡°I TAUGHT CWOH TO STEAL FOR US! THE MORE MONEY WE HAVE, THE BETTER, MWAHAHA! Nobody will stop us, they won¡¯t even try. If my plans go well, I¡¯ll have even more crows on my side! They can¡¯t get enough fireballs to take out an entire swarm of crows, the magic cost wouldn¡¯t be worth it anymore¡!¡±
The four flew over the ocean together. Tido, yelling about how his crows would take over the world, and Fizz, clutching onto the money bag so that it doesn¡¯t drop off. Fizz interrupted Tido¡¯s monologue, politely asking.
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¡°Say, have you seen John lately? I haven¡¯t seen him at the hideout in forever.¡±
Tido paused in the middle of evil laughter, a concerned look on his face.
¡°No, no I haven¡¯t. Last I heard the madlad is trying to steal a dragon egg from the king. Serves ¡®em right, since the king has done jack and shit in the last few years. I hope he comes back alright¡ I¡¯d hate for him to lose another arm.¡±
Fizz nodded in agreement; He¡¯d hate for his other best bud in the whole world to be hurt. They all flew back to their awesome clubhouse: A skull shaped cave on an island, isolated from the rest of the world. While FIzz himself was wearing a pink tuxedo, Tido was wearing a plague doctor outfit, although part of the robe was carefully cut so that it wouldn¡¯t interfere in properly riding his crows.
They landed carefully, Tido helping Fizz off of Kraa. Cwoh landed a moment after, settling down near Kraa. Tido - naturally - took about 10 minutes to shower both of them in praise and love, while Fizz collected their riches and put them in the Secret? vault of Secrets?. Celebrating by cracking open a cold one with the boys - and a barrel of fruits for the crows - they cheered over their (mostly) flawless victory.
Suddenly, a loud crash sounded; It sounded like it came from the Secret? vault of Secrets?! Wanting to protect all the money and riches they¡¯d all acquired, Tido, Fizz, and Kraa all dashed over; although two of the three were a little buzzed. There was a shiny, emerald dragon making itself at home, a very sudden renovation to the cave as it made an entrance. John - the insane but logical man he was - carefully hung on until the dragon curled up on the gold, tediously getting off the dragon. Fizz snapped out of his stunned awe when he noticed that John was having some trouble getting off the dragon, large as it was.
Rushing over, Fizz helped John down. John noticed that the two were a bit buzzed when he got near, but the fact that he managed to steal a dragon - This wasn¡¯t even an egg, it was a DRAGON, - was pretty much the only thing that went into Fizz and Tido¡¯s head. The two crows on the other hand recognized glory when they saw it, politely lowering themselves a little in submission.
John just smiled. It took Fizz a moment to realize that John¡¯s left arm - which was previously chopped off by a guard - had been replaced with a rune-covered prosthetic of steel that worked better than his remaining actual arm. Fizz grinned, before bursting out in relieved laughter and drunkenly nestling against John. John didn¡¯t mind; He saw Fizz as a little brother of sorts.
¡°I¡¯ll take a guess and say he was worried about me?¡±
John asked Tido, who could only muster a dumb nod. John gestured to the dragon, who preened at all the eyes on her.
¡°This is Pavaldri, and she¡¯s agreed to guard all our gold as long as we give her free range over the rest of the island. Since we hardly use the rest of it, I¡¯ve agreed. At worst, she toasts us alive, and at best, our gold will never be taken by anyone outside of our squad!¡±
Tido gave a thumbs up, the sheer coolness of having a dragon on their side snapping him out of his daze. Fizz, meanwhile, started cheering for how perfectly the day was going and how all his friends were home at last. Oh, and dragons. Dragons were awesome to Fizz too, as rare and picky as they were.
The things that Fizz, Tido, and John fully agreed on was that life was good, dragons were cool, and gold can make things possible. The three and their animal companions celebrated together, although Pavaldri opted to take a nap instead.
15: Names For A Dungeon!
When Fizz woke up, he was a bit confused about being in his bed. Shrugging it off with a ¡®I probably fell asleep in bed,¡¯ he got up to start the day. Despite how much he¡¯d been doing everything except running his bakery, business was doing alright. He kept the doors unlocked unless he was home or it was night, and the town¡¯s honor was good enough. All that Fizz had to do was keep the sign that said anyone could grab anything as long as they paid.
Sure, he knew he¡¯d probably have to remove that the instant John let the dungeon open to adventurers again, but that was alright. Fizz didn¡¯t mind the impromptu vacation, not like he really ¡®worked¡¯ much anyways. In Fizz¡¯s mind, as long as people were happy near him, he was doing good.
Leaving his house after quickly freshening himself up, Fizz noticed John approaching. That either meant that John was depressed or happy; Fizz could never really tell, but he¡¯d always be there for John anyways. Fizz smiled as he waved the other man over.
¡°Heyo, John! What¡¯cha doin¡¯ up and about so early? Usually you¡¯re cooped up in your office for a while after I wake up.¡±
John smiled - Must be a good morning today! - and answered Fizz¡¯s question.
¡°Well, I just needed to ask you something. Do you want to name the dungeon? It needs a name, and you know how bad I am at important titles like that. I might end up naming it ¡®dungeon-filled-with-baked-goods¡±
Fizz grinned.
¡°A¡¯course, I¡¯d love to! Hey, we should name the dungeon in the dungeon, so that the dungeon knows what we call the dungeon.¡±
John paused to chew on that long, confusing sentence, but he was pretty sure he got the gist of it. Following Fizz as he walked towards the dungeon, John played it safe in his response. As long as it got done, then John was alright with it. Plus, spending more time with Fizz was just a pleasant bonus anyways.
¡°Good idea.¡±
The two went into the dungeon and John looked around if he missed anything last time. He knew he wasn¡¯t looking as closely as he should¡¯ve, but he was pretty tired when he checked. Noticing 5 small statues on a sort of ¡®shelf¡¯ to the left of the entrance, John took a short moment to stare.
Since he knew all the deaths in the dungeon, it didn¡¯t take long for John to recognize the statues. 5 poor souls who weren¡¯t quite fit for adventuring; It¡¯s often said that an insect dungeon was the easiest, if someone got past their dislike of bugs. Deciding that this was yet another thing to add to the report, he followed Fizz before he left him behind.
¡°I¡¯ll assume you wanted to name the dungeon in the core room?¡±
John idly asked, continuing to follow along. Fizz seemed to know the path to the core just like John did, both of them knowing for their own different reasons. Fizz responded after a moment.
¡°Yep! That way it can use its¡¯ neat little bugs to tell us yes or no. I think the thing bein¡¯ named should name itself, but it can¡¯t really tell us-¡±
John stared at Fizz, cutting him off by accident.
¡°It uses its¡¯ bugs to communicate with you? I guess that¡¯s just another thing I need to add to the report. At this rate, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if it wrote your name in icing or something. Dungeons are observant, sure, but not like this. They¡¯re supposed to be more observant to ¡®what hurts people¡¯ instead of ¡®what makes people like them.¡¯¡±
Fizz shrugged, opening the door to the core room. Since John was behind him, he didn¡¯t see it at first. Fizz did, though. It was a mess of a cake, the icing was sloppily made and seemed to be attached to the cake without even an attempt at smoothing it out, and the cake was slightly burnt. But Fizz smiled regardless, just because of one thing.
¡°You were right on that prediction, John. It wrote ma¡¯ name in icin¡¯- Er, tried to.¡±
Fizz got out of the way, knowing John would need to add that to the growing report. At this rate, the ¡®booklet¡¯ will just be a book. John stared at the poorly made cake.
¡°I know for a fact you¡¯re too much of a perfectionist to make this¡¡±
He trailed off for a moment, chewing on the facts, before continuing.
¡°...Do you think the tavern restocked their good beer yet?¡±
Fizz snickered.
¡°Aw, c¡¯mon! I thought it was sweet!¡±
John tried not to smile at the terrible pun. Fizz proceeded with a grin.
¡°Besides, if it can write in icing, then it really can name itself. Let¡¯s see how far we can get with this, eh?¡±
John shrugged, and that was all the confirmation Fizz needed. He put his cookbook on the table, scratching his head on how he would communicate to the dungeon that they were trying to name it. He decided to start flipping through pages and naming the sweets, hoping the complex idea would communicate somewhat well.
Lemrio had absolutely no clue what Fizz was talking about. He got the gist that he was saying the names of the muffins, but it didn¡¯t quite click. Lemrio just wanted Fizz to eat the cake he made for him. Was it not good enough, or was it because the gift giver was here? Maybe he spelled it wrong? No, no, Lemrio checked. He was pretty sure that Fizz¡¯s name was spelled F-I-Z-Z, so where did he go wrong?
Confused, Lemrio tried to understand. Fizz seemed to be listing off name after name, treat after treat, while facing Lemrio¡¯s core. Did Fizz want Lemrio to pick one of them? He could do that! Sending out a muffin spider, Lemrio stopped FIzz when he reached the ¡®Lemon Meringue'' page. It may not have been the spiders, roaches, or rats¡¯ favorite treat, but Lemrio loved every part of it¡ For some reason.
Something about the color made him happy, he wasn¡¯t all that sure. Either way, he picked his favorite and now he just had to hope it would make them happy, too. He didn¡¯t want Fizz to be sad if he picked wrong.
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¡°Lemon Meringue. How¡¯s that for a name, John?¡±
Fizz asked with a grin, seeing how the muffin spider had settled on that page specifically. John facepalmed.
¡°Are you sure the dungeon understands what we¡¯re asking of it? Listing off baked goods wouldn¡¯t make much sense to me, personally. Maybe that¡¯s just its¡¯ favorite snack or something¡ Not that dungeons can taste. But I guess that if they could, why not? Why wouldn¡¯t a dungeon have a favorite food?¡±
Fizz just shrugged while John tiredly wrote down another note on his paper. Fizz glanced over and noticed it had started to run out of space; He couldn¡¯t help but feel a bit of pity. John muttered to himself.
¡°...And the dungeon only has 2 floors as of now, who knows how much more insane it¡¯ll get¡ At this rate, we¡¯ll need a sign that says ¡®Forget everything you knew about normal dungeons, this is different¡¯...¡±
John looked at Fizz with a tired smile.
¡°You know what? Alright. Let¡¯s name it Lemon Meringue then, I could have certainly done it worse.¡±
When John looked at Fizz, he was holding a plate of slightly burnt cake in his hand; Seems like he decided to eat the mess the dungeon tried to make regardless of the risk. Fizz grinned at the core.
¡°Awesome! Ya¡¯ hear that, Lemon Meringue? That¡¯s gonna be your name! It¡¯s a bit long, though¡ Say, how about, ah, Lemrio? That¡¯s a nice name, eh?¡±
Fizz noticed some of the spiders hopping around with no clear goal.
¡°See? He likes it! His lil¡¯ pastry things are dancin¡¯!¡±
John raised an eyebrow. Sure, give the dungeon a gender, why not. Let the spider muffins dance, and give the dungeon a nickname.
Deciding that he might as well let Fizz handle the¡ ¡®relationship¡¯ with the dungeon, John smiled. This seemed like chaos, but he knew that in time it would be normal too. Besides, he liked seeing Fizz happy. Now all that¡¯s left is to tell the 3 people the association sent about the new name¡ Well, whenever he felt like it.
For now? For now, John decided that he would just spend some more time with Fizz. They had a few weeks until the month ended, and the Dungeon Association was pretty lenient when it came to how much time it took before a report was truly required. ¡®Do it right or do it fast; Can¡¯t have both.¡¯ The policy was simple, and although it had room for interpretation, everyone took it as it was supposed to be taken.
John liked that about the Dungeon Association. Unlike the guilds - half of them were rotten and most of them had some kind of secret - the Dungeon Association was as transparent as a glass pane. Sure, they kept a few things ¡®secret,¡¯ but they didn¡¯t stop anyone from finding them. It was just a matter of how. On that train of thought, John glanced over at Fizz.
While John had been writing details down and musing about the Dungeon Association, Fizz was baking a lemon meringue pie for the newly dubbed ¡®Lemon.¡¯ John asked, knowing that Fizz would be just fine multitasking.
¡°Say, would you like to know about how the Dungeon Association works?¡±
Fizz responded happily; It was an easy question for him.
¡°Yeah! I¡¯ve always wanted ta¡¯ know a bit more, but you seemed busy most of the time. I never wanted to bother ya¡¯ when you had a dozen adventurers on your case. From what I know, an¡¯ correct me if I¡¯m wrong, the Dungeon Association works to monitor and supervise dungeons n¡¯ make sure they aren¡¯t doin¡¯ anything odd.¡±
Fizz paused for a moment to look at John. He nodded, confirming the bare minimum. John continued.
¡°The job process is easy; You just tell them the skills you have, read a few pamphlets on what jobs are available, and pick what works. Education plays a part, but it doesn¡¯t matter much to them; They accept practically anyone with the right drive and an honest tone. Hiding things just isn¡¯t how it works. That¡¯s why there¡¯s that bookshelf in my office filled with reports on each year.¡±
John looked up to make sure Fizz understood. He gave a thumbs up, but was busy juicing and cutting a few lemons. John raised an eyebrow at how he somehow already had a pie crust; He hardly noticed that Lemrio even had a pie dough ready at a moment¡¯s notice. Deciding that Fizz was just that good of a baker, John continued.
¡°It¡¯s also pretty open, but that¡¯s what the association is well known for in the first place. Want a fully honest job? The Dungeon Association¡¯s so clear that you can see from their very best to their very worst without roadblocks. The association believes in sharing knowledge, and withholding isn¡¯t their style. Granted, some of the more unsavory dungeons are behind a small warning sign, but even that is an optional warning.¡±
Fizz nodded. He got the gist, although he wasn¡¯t paying too much attention. Deciding that he was feeling curious, John asked Fizz.
¡°Since I¡¯m done talking your ears off when it comes to my job, what about your baking? I¡¯m pretty sure you made that cookbook, based on how part of it looks like an insane journal. I swear, one page is an actual recipe and the next is ¡®three parts this, five parts that, make up the rest with leftovers and mix until goop.¡¯ That¡¯s your favorite icing recipe, last time I checked.¡±
Fizz laughed at that.
¡°Yeah, I won¡¯t deny that!¡± He continued working, separating 5 egg yolks from the whites with his hands. ¡°Right now I¡¯m makin¡¯ a meringue pie, and these eggs are gonna come in later. Not right this moment, though. Say, could you get that jar of sugar, granulated; that jar of cornstarch, make sure it¡¯s white; and that small-ish pot over ¡®ere?¡±
John put the requested items on the counter near Fizz, knowing that Fizz had a more hands-on approach to teaching. Paying some attention but mostly enjoying hanging out with his friend, John watched curiously and didn¡¯t interrupt. Fizz continued, taking a moment to rinse his hands before working. Fizz worked fast, that¡¯s for sure.
¡°250 grams a¡¯ sugar, 25 grams a¡¯ cornstarch, 30 grams a¡¯ lemon zest, 300 milliliters of water, 180 milliliters of lemon juice - which I¡¯ll need to strain, - And just, ah, whisk that till¡¯ it¡¯s chunkless.¡±
Both Lemrio and John were paying attention to Fizz¡¯s words, although one understood better than the other. Fizz continued, working as he explained.
¡°Medium heat. Now it¡¯s gonna look like nothin''s happenin¡¯ for a while, but then it¡¯ll suddenly burn. There¡¯s no inbetween here, John; Look away for too long and suddenly you¡¯ve got a gross goop instead of a lemon gel. Now, as you¡¯ll see, it¡¯s gotten all gel-y. I check by tossin¡¯ a wooden spoon in there and seeing how well it coats.¡±
Fizz said, while measuring out a cup of the lemon mixture. John nodded, following along although he was a bit lost on what part Fizz was making in the first place. Probably the inside of the pie. Fizz continued.
¡°Whisk the eggs at a steady pace. We¡¯ve gotta pour this cuppa¡¯ lemon goop into these egg yolks. Too fast, and we get scrambled eggs with lemon sludge; Terrible. Be steady, an¡¯ don¡¯t stress too much. It¡¯s easier than it looks.¡±
Lemrio understood Fizz well, although missed the more intricate parts. So far, Lemrio¡¯s understanding of the adventurer language was heavily tilted in favor of understanding recipes instead of actual books or conversation. Lemrio - if he could talk - could explain how to bake muffins, but be lost when questions are asked about said muffins.
John, on the other hand, was just feeling hungry. He sorta wanted to drink the lemon goop, despite how it was still steaming hot. Fizz continued explaining for a while while going through all the steps, and by the end of that, one lemon meringue pie was made. It did take about an hour, but it was worth it to John. He got to hear his friend ramble, and he got to watch how the dungeon- Er, Lemrio, - seemingly reacted. From what he observed, the muffin and cupcake spiders had all settled down near Fizz - who seemed utterly unaware - and stayed still for a while.
John wondered if spiders could sleep, and learned that today; Spiders do sleep, but it¡¯s more like zoning out. Heading back to the Incinerate inn with a pie slice in his hand and a slight smile on his face, John went to tell Doremi, Sola, and Tido about what the dungeon ended up being named. He found it silly, but it fit the dungeon well.
Then his pie slice was promptly stolen by a crow on his way to the inn. Watching it fly away, John quietly regretted how he was unable to taste his second favorite kind of pie.
16: Mixed and tangled!
Lemrio was curious. Very, very curious. He had just realized a few interesting things, and the only way to understand fully was to test them. To his bugs and insects, the sugariest things were always the best things. Sure, protein also played a part in how much his critters liked them, but he had no clue what to do. Remembering the odd thing he made as an experiment, Lemrio decided to ask the donut rat.
He nearly forgot he had it in the first place, since the thing mostly just rolls around and occasionally nibbles on the floor. Feeling sympathy for making the thing a chonky critter, Lemrio evened it out a bit so the poor rat could move without rolling like a bowling ball. After that quick fix, Lemrio tried to convey his question to the rat.
The rat did not respond with anything Lemrio could really understand. Maybe it was because it wasn¡¯t an insect, or maybe it was something else, but the only part that Lemrio could understand from the rat was an emotion he didn¡¯t recognize. It was like wanting something that someone else had, while not liking the other person much. Lemrio didn¡¯t quite understand and couldn¡¯t make sense of it.
Plus, it didn¡¯t have much relation to the question Lemrio had tried to ask. He tried to ask why the rat enjoyed mixing up some of the fluffy things or why the rat liked a less sugary thing than the others, but it came out as something similar to ¡®how are you¡¯ instead.
Feeling a bit bad that he couldn¡¯t understand the rat as well as he could understand his insects, Lemrio made another rat so the first one could have a friend. He watched the two interact for a while before eventually snuggling together at the end of the day.
Lemrio felt like he was missing something important. He could see. He could listen. That¡¯s all there was, right? But then, why bake at all? If seeing and listening was everything, then baking wouldn¡¯t make sense. Fizz baked for a reason, right? For it to ¡®taste good¡¯ and to ¡®have fun.¡¯
Lemrio continued thinking, feeling like he was onto something. What is taste? Is it something the rats had? He knew that the insects could sense something he couldn¡¯t when they ate something for nutrients, but it was confusing. The other night he heard Fizz humming a tune to himself and muttering that the tune reminded him of his mother, but Lemrio didn¡¯t get it. What was the link between a little hum and someone else? That seemed like two entirely different things; Seeing and hearing.
Lemrio realized that there was some kind of gap between his perception of everything and everyone else¡¯s perceptions of everything. At any given moment, Lemrio knew exactly what was happening in his dungeon. Sure, he often opted to stop paying attention to some parts of it when something particularly interesting happened, but deep down he knew exactly what was going on at any moment.
Although he was a bit startled by the two adventurers when Fizz was baking, some part of him was aware that they were here. Some part of him had already logged them as a non-threat. That little part of him was the same part that had opted to focus on murdering, held back immensely by the rest of him.
That was an interesting discovery. Lemrio stopped his musing upon figuring that out. He never wanted to kill, not truly, but a part of him wanted to for misguided efficiency. It didn¡¯t make sense. It was illogical. Feeling puzzled by his actions before that fateful day, Lemrio dug deeper. Why did he pick insects? He assumed they were the most efficient, so he did.
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Why did he build the dungeon around himself to protect himself from adventurers when the optimal idea was to huddle down in the dirt like a hidden gem, moving as deep as possible? He didn¡¯t know. It just felt right to build an elaborate monument surrounding himself instead of just hiding away from the threat he thought he was protecting from.
Deciding that this was a problem that could wait another day, Lemrio shelved the whole idea. It was confusing, a bit disorienting, and made him feel bad in an odd way, but that was the past. He could just try and ask Fizz! Er- he didn¡¯t really know how he¡¯d do that, actually.
Lemrio felt like he found himself in a pickle. All these questions, and he had no way to ask them! So many new things he didn¡¯t understand about himself! Lemrio found himself sulking a bit, in all honesty. Plus, what was the difference between one frosting and another? Lemrio knew that one tended to get more attention than the other, but he didn¡¯t get it much. It looked the same to him.
And that train of thought gave him even more questions¡ Lemrio decided to stop thinking about that and instead improve the two floors he already had. He did have enough power for a third floor, sure, but he had plans for that power. Getting to work, he carefully perfected small details while sulking over how confusing life could be.
Meanwhile, Fizz was restocking his bakery in legal ways that had never been questioned whatsoever. John was helping out a bit, since he had some rare free time but couldn¡¯t get himself to actually stop working. John curiously noticed that Fizz had bought himself a new pan.
¡°Fizz, why does this pan have hexagons in the pattern?¡±
John asked, seeing that the pan had an interesting pattern to it. It was like the metal was clicked together like that for decoration, but he knew that Fizz usually made all the decorations in the shop himself. That¡¯s part of why he had a statue of a muffin carved out of a bone from unknown origin right next to his menu.
¡°Oh, it helps spread the heat more evenly! Cost a pretty penny, though.¡±
Fizz responded absentmindedly. John nodded and finished up sorting things, the two taking a moment to have a drink together. Fizz was drinking out of a flask filled with some kind of purple, sugary goop. John didn¡¯t want to ask what it was as he drank a cup of lemonade.
¡°Can¡¯t believe it¡¯ll only be another week before I open the dungeon up again. Do you think it- Er, do you think that ¡®Lemrio¡¯ will be alright?¡±
John asked. Fizz shrugged.
¡°Dunno, really. Anything could ¡®appen, I ¡®spose. But he was ¡®aight before, and he¡¯ll be ¡®aight now. If anything, it¡¯s you we ¡®otta worry about! You¡¯re gonna be drowning in work before ya¡¯ know it.¡±
¡°Don¡¯t remind me, Fizz.¡±
John said with a quiet chuckle, holding his glass up. Fizz noticed what he was doing and joined in happily.
¡°Cheers.¡±
¡°Sk?l!¡±
Fizz said, far less calmly than John as they started chatting about all sorts of other things. Today was a nice day, and John preferred to take things easy before the big event happened. Time seemed to be flying faster for him, that¡¯s for sure.
17: The Insect Dungeon and The Demon
It felt fear for the first time.
Things were going normally today. It had been defending itself as usual, making sure that no intruder got too deep into it. It didn¡¯t think it could be defeated at the pace it had been going, that is, until the demon came. The demon looked like any other intruder, a sword at her side and a determined glare in her eyes.
She started going forwards, slashing through the defenses like a monster in the guise of an intruder. Hacking down swarms that took months to fully form, slashing down the bugs that had been doing just fine earlier; All while having that hateful, determined, vengeful glare in her eyes.
It thought that glare was for anything but it. It hadn¡¯t done anything to the demon personally, had it? Had it annoyed the demon with showers of small bugs? No, no it hadn¡¯t. It didn¡¯t understand. What had it done to deserve this? It didn¡¯t enjoy it when its¡¯ bugs died. That was a normal part of life and each of them would return in time, but all of them dying at once like this? No. It did not like this.
The demon had continued into the dungeon, slashing at walls that were going to ambush and removing threats before they had a chance to retaliate. The demon¡¯s sword was bathed in flame, matching the golden hair and orange eyes that the demon had. Adventurers and intruders didn¡¯t have orange eyes, from what it had known¡ Thus, it concluded that the demon couldn¡¯t be part of them. The demon was something else.
It watched in fear, growing more panicked as it started throwing everything it had at the demon. Bugs, spiders, ants, flies, moths, butterflies, anything. The bugs and spiders got quick slashes, left to perish; The ants and flies couldn¡¯t escape the fire from that unholy sword, as terrifying as it was; the moths and butterflies couldn¡¯t help a single bit against stopping the demon¡¯s path, weak and frail.
It felt terrified. It didn¡¯t want to shatter- It had so many plans for the future, plans for floors, for bigger bugs, better defenses, it didn¡¯t want all of those plans to go off course because of a monster it couldn¡¯t handle-
The gift giver had rushed into the core room unexpectedly, yelling, making sounds at the demon. The demon didn¡¯t seem convinced and walked forwards, grasping her sword as she explained things that the dungeon didn¡¯t understand. The gift giver talked and talked, made sounds, but the demon didn¡¯t relent from her goal.
It felt confused. What was this? Was the gift giver defending it from the demon? It couldn¡¯t tell. The demon took out her sword, and the dungeon knew what would happen next.
No. The dungeon felt a denial in its¡¯ very core. No, don¡¯t take the gift giver away. Don¡¯t take him away from me. It didn¡¯t think that adventurers could respawn; It had absorbed two before, and had never seen them again. It didn¡¯t want to absorb the gift giver even if the gift giver did perish in battle. It wanted the gift giver to keep visiting.
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It didn¡¯t want the gift giver gone. The gift giver was its¡¯, and nobody else¡¯s. The gift giver belonged to it. It watched the gift giver defending it, battling with the demon. Deciding that it refused to let him go, it sent out a small, invisible tendril of magic. This magic couldn¡¯t harm if it wanted to, nor could it ever do anything noticeable if things remained safe. However, the dungeon knew what it could do; If the gift giver was torn away from the mortal plane, the string¡ That little string would force him to come back.
Feeling somewhat secure now that it had tied an invisible, intangible safety net over the gift giver, it watched with fear as the gift giver and the demon fought. Clashing sword to sword, watching as the gift giver¡¯s hands got burnt in his goal to protect the dungeon, watching as the demon took one scratch for every scar the gift giver got. It attempted to help when possible, with the little defenses it was spending most of its¡¯ magic to create.
It felt safe again when the gift giver finally managed to get rid of the demon. It was a little confused while it looked at the gift giver, how he stared at the demon while she was on the floor. The only reason that it hadn¡¯t absorbed the demon was because it didn¡¯t know if the gift giver wanted it to or not, but after a moment of silence, it allowed itself to absorb the demon.
The magic received was more than the other two gave, but it wasn¡¯t very satisfied. The magic it needed to use in order to secure that safety net for the gift giver was immense, and it wouldn¡¯t be able to make its¡¯ third floor anytime soon. If it wanted to do that again, it would need to sacrifice another chance at a third floor¡ But that was alright with it. The thing that made it unhappy was the fact that it would take some time for it to create its¡¯ defenses again.
It didn¡¯t want its¡¯ favorite people hurt. Not now, not ever. The stronger it got, the more magic it could contain within itself, the more strings it could create. Strings turn to ropes, ropes turn to chains, and it won¡¯t need to worry about its¡¯ favorite people.
It did not forget this.
Lemrio did not forget this.
He knew that when the time came, Fizz would have a safety net, too. Lemrio didn¡¯t need more floors; He didn¡¯t have a use for them at the moment. Lemrio didn¡¯t need to protect his core as much; He trusted in Fizz and John to protect him from the true threats. Lemrio¡¯s priorities made his instincts cry in protest, and yet, he overcame them regardless.
Lemrio loved his friends. If he had a say, then nothing would forever hurt them ever again. He refused to make a statue of the demon; That thing had nearly killed John and left him with scars he had to hide.
But, if John or any of Lemrio¡¯s friends died in the dungeon¡ Well, he would bring them all back. It didn¡¯t matter if they wanted to come back or not; He refused to let them go. Were his goals selfless or selfish? He didn¡¯t know¡ But it was all going to be okay. He knew that humans were a little reckless at times, and that was okay! Getting a little scratched up was part of life, in Lemrio¡¯s opinion.
But he would make sure that his beloved friends don¡¯t stay down when they get scratched.
ALL MY FELLAS 2, PIRATE WOES:
Somewhere on a ship in the ocean, a little boy with blonde hair was scrubbing the deck so it could be spotless. He couldn¡¯t talk, nor could he really have any free time to himself, but he was content in his simple, dull life. He finished his work and began another square, going bit by bit like he did everyday.
¡°Oi, Nix! C¡¯mere.¡±
Nix, yes, that was what they called him. He didn¡¯t pick it, but when he was found hidden in the cargo, the ship captain called him that. He couldn¡¯t write, so he couldn¡¯t tell them that they were wrong. That was okay with him. He was told that as long as he worked well and didn¡¯t mess anything up, he could stay. If he did, he¡¯d get thrown overboard.
He appreciated that they were blunt about that. That¡¯s part of why he liked it as a servant on a ship; Unless they wanted him to do something complicated like tying a specific knot, the orders were simple. He scampered over to the sailor, looking up at him while waiting for the next instructions.
¡°Start work on the soup, but don¡¯t fill it yet. A¡¯ve got a boat over there, and it¡¯ll be our next target. Stick below deck: You ¡®aint intimidating in the slightest, and they might try n¡¯ snag you from us.¡±
He nodded and went below deck, chopping up a few vegetables to prepare for the soup. He knew that when the yelling was over, or when someone went down to tell him things went well, he could put the water into the soup. Ocean water tasted bad, so usually he¡¯d just filter it with his somewhat weak magic. It was better than nothing, anyways.
He considered things while cutting, making sure that things were even. Whenever he made food good enough, they might praise him. He liked when that happened. He heard the familiar sound of canon fire while he worked on the food, making sure his grip on the knife was steady so he didn¡¯t nick himself when the ship jostled from the crashing waves. He heard the screams as the target ship got raided but didn¡¯t mind. That was just how his crew worked, and it was okay. He didn¡¯t like it, per say, but he knew that the crew got benefits out of it. That¡¯s how they afforded good spices.
Things almost sounded like they were going badly, though. That was new. That was¡ worrying. He squinted at the little crack in the deck, trying to guess what was going on based on the very limited visuals. Something was happening. He heard yelling about an uncharted island and arguments on who would claim it as their own. Gunfire. Someone screaming about betrayal.
This didn¡¯t seem good, and so, he quietly hid inside a box in the corner, shivering hands holding a knife. He didn¡¯t like this at all, but he was prepared to defend himself. He¡¯d done it before, after all. The screaming went quiet, but he didn¡¯t hear any other footsteps. He just sat there, staring at the door, hoping that someone would come down and say that it¡¯s okay.
But it was quiet. After a while of drifting on the waves, he felt a jostle as the ship went into a dark area. A cove, perhaps? He recognized how the ship wasn¡¯t being moved by ocean waves anymore, and he walked his way up with the kitchen knife in his hand. An empty cove, with an empty ship. Where did everyone go?
He didn¡¯t know. They were gone. He didn¡¯t particularly like the crew - he wasn¡¯t close with any of them - but he liked having the certainty that he would always make the soup, and that there would always be something for him to do. But now there¡¯s nobody to listen to, nobody to tell him the next step or the next task. He didn¡¯t know what to do for a moment.
He got out of the ship and abandoned his knife; He couldn¡¯t swim with it in his hand. He swam in the cove and onto the sand - not too far of a swim - and he stood there on the sand. He glanced back at the empty ship one last time before walking onto the island. It was nice on the island. The sun was warm, and so far, nothing had tried to eat him. That was an upgrade from the last time he was on an island. He wandered for a bit before starting to climb higher up, finding a staircase. That was interesting; He didn¡¯t know mountains could have staircases.
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He walked up innocently, before finding a door. Now, he didn¡¯t know much, but he knew that mountains shouldn¡¯t have doors. This must be someone¡¯s house! He considered what to do. The climb up here was a little hard, and he wouldn¡¯t want to do it again. Knocking might make a mean person come; An island this far out implies that whoever lives here doesn''t want visitors. Or maybe they do, and they placed themselves in a bad spot for that. He didn¡¯t know.
After a few more minutes of thinking, he noticed that the door was creaking open. Running away was a bad idea, because he was on a staircase. So, he sorta just stood there and looked up at the man that opened the door.
¡°...¡±
Fizz looked at the scrawny child that appeared at the entrance. He was just going to go pick some fruits from the trees on the island so Tido¡¯s crows would stop pestering him, but this was a surprise.
¡°Hey John?¡±
Fizz called out into their Not Evil? lair.
¡°There¡¯s a kid at the door.¡±
John started talking as he walked closer, not wasting a second as he heard Fizz¡¯s words.
¡°We¡¯re miles away from the mainland, what do you mean a kid is at the door-¡±
John looked at the kid.
¡°Oh. Uh¡ Kid, are you¡ lost...?¡±
John awkwardly said. The kid shrugged. John looked at the kid and the kid looked at him. Fizz looked between John and the kid. Fizz nudged John in the arm.
¡°I think the kid can¡¯t talk.¡±
John looked at Fizz, then at the kid. The kid nodded.
¡°Oh, why didn¡¯t you sa-...¡±
John trailed off. Fizz couldn¡¯t help it, and just started snickering. John decided that they should take the kid in - ¡°We¡¯ve got enough money and enough food,¡± - so they did. Fizz, the force of nature that he was, decided that the very first course of action - after John gave the kid some better, dry clothes and brushed the kid¡¯s hair - was that Fizz would teach the boy how to bake.
Just as night fell, a single lemon meringue pie was created! Fizz grinned and cut the pie up once it was done, serving a slice to the kid. After a bit, Fizz asked.
¡°Kid, do you have a name?¡±
The boy shrugged, and Fizz continued.
¡°How about we call ya¡¯ Lemrio? Y¡¯know, like¡ Like a lemon meringue pie? That¡¯s easy to remember, eh?¡±
He considered the new name. It felt better than ¡®Nix¡¯ did, and this place seemed nicer. Before he answered though, he took a little bite of the pie. It was glorious, the best thing he¡¯d ever tasted and ever would taste. Fizz noticed the way Lemrio¡¯s eyes lit up, and he smiled while the kid devoured the rest of his slice and then stared at his empty plate like someone took his heart and shattered it.
Fizz snickered, and gave the boy another slice.
¡°Don¡¯t tell John, but¡ you can eat the whole pie if you want. You seem like you need some meat on your bones, and although meat n¡¯ bread would work better, methinks you deserve something nicer.¡±
Lemrio said nothing in response, but finished off his second slice and went to his third. Fizz decided to let the kid be and said that he¡¯d be with Tido and the crows if Lemrio needed him.
This place seemed easier, nicer. Nicer than the ship. He would stay here and be friends with all of the strange people, and things would be okay. Everything would be okay.
Lemrio felt happy, and as he licked the fork he used to eat the pie, he decided that he would bake a lot more. Surely Fizz would teach him more, right? He was excited for when it would happen.
18: Getting ready...
Doremi and Sola had just finished preparing a few things.
Firstly, during the month they had moved out of the Incinerate inn; It was a nice place, but the two decided to merge their funds and settle down here. They couldn¡¯t just pass up the chance to be near a dungeon like this, even if they were just the expedition team. Besides, the Dungeon Association wasn¡¯t all that rigid when it came to where people were. As long as they did their work, it was alright.
So, the two got a little house next to the dungeon; Close enough to get an easy first delve in the morning, but far enough so that the dungeon wouldn¡¯t expand into it. Their part was done, and things were set to continue. Tido also got a place of his own, but he had said that he¡¯d only really use it as a vacation house of sorts. His crows didn¡¯t like being stuck in a given place, and neither did he.
Tido said that he¡¯d be in that unnamed tavern on the other side of town. Why didn¡¯t it have a name? Nobody really knew but nobody cared; If someone says they¡¯ll be at the tavern, then that¡¯s where they¡¯ll be.
In the meantime though, Doremi and Sola were fixing up their little house together. It wasn¡¯t too much but it had what they needed, and that was good enough for them. Sola had just finished cleaning everything up while Doremi started - well, tried - to make food.
¡°Sola¡ I burnt the pancakes¡ Again¡¡±
Sola walked into the kitchen, looking at the pan and making an educated guess on where Doremi went wrong. She wasn¡¯t good at cooking, but Sola still believed that Doremi could learn with a bit of help. She was certainly trying, and really, that¡¯s the important part.
¡°You also forgot to butter the pan first. Let me help, pipsqueak, you were close this time.¡±
Doremi smiled sheepishly while Sola helped her out. It only took one or two tries before she understood it better, but she grumbled a bit over needing Sola¡¯s help for cooking things again. The two ate their pancakes together in their house, and they were content. After a bit, Sola thought of something.
¡°Hey Doremi. Would the dungeon be called ¡®The Pie Dungeon¡¯ for short, since John named it ¡®Lemon Meringue?¡¯¡±
Doremi considered it and shrugged, pausing so that she could finish chewing.
¡°Dunno, but probably. Say, what do you think Tido¡¯s up to?¡±
Meanwhile, Tido was at the tavern, sharing a story with Fizz about the church. Fizz was mostly indifferent about the church since they do let him snag some ¡®holy ingredients¡¯ once in a while, but Tido didn¡¯t like them too much. According to his story, he did something wrong - and had no clue what it was, for the record - and the church suddenly decided that he was a blight on the earth.
¡°I¡¯m telling you, they¡¯re out for me and my crows. They said that I shouldn¡¯t exist, and that my crows are my ¡®evil servants¡¯ since they work with me. So here I was, getting chased by a dozen men with pitchforks and torches, and I had to make an escape by jumping off a building¡¯s rooftop and hoping Kraa would catch me! Now the church says I¡¯m a ¡®purge on sight,¡¯ so I haven¡¯t been able to come into the capital for ages.¡±
Fizz nodded sympathetically.
¡°I see ya¡¯ on that. When I tried snaggin¡¯ some ingredients - which were given to me by a very willing warlock! - they chased after me for a month. I think they¡¯re just tryin¡¯ their best when it comes to keepin¡¯ the peace and such, but they mess up quite a bit. Hope you get that cleared up ¡®fore it kills ya.¡¯¡±
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Tido shrugged, idly sipping on his cup of lemonade. Sure, the tavern did have drinks, but Tido disliked the taste of alcohol in general.
¡°Well, they sure are good at finding me. It¡¯s why I work for the Dungeon Association in the first place; they keep me moving away from the church, and if their information sources stay accurate, then I won¡¯t get myself hurt anytime soon. Speaking of moving, I¡¯m gonna be heading out a few days before the dungeon opens, give or take.¡±
Fizz nodded, nibbling on a cookie. The tavern wasn¡¯t as good as the bakery when it came to sweets - for obvious reasons - but Fizz liked trying the competition, even if nothing would come of it.
¡°Makes sense ta¡¯ me. The church likes being near dungeons; Easier to spread their message when a dozen people are flocking over. Not ta¡¯ mention wit¡¯ how unique the dungeon is, John¡¯s gon¡¯ be up to his knees in paperwork¡ Wonder how long it¡¯ll take ¡®fore they send ¡®em some backup.¡±
Tido shrugged again. He didn¡¯t have much else to say, but he liked Fizz¡¯s company. Tido idly thought about visiting Fizz once in a while; His crows loved the snacks Fizz made for them, and Tido himself thought Fizz was a nice guy. Fizz and Tido hung out together for a moment longer, before Fizz decided to go check on John.
Fizz knew that John would be drowning in paperwork sooner or later. Unfortunately, Fizz was right. When Fizz went into John¡¯s office, standing with a freshly baked cherry pie, John didn¡¯t notice at all.
He was busy drowning in paperwork. The poor guy hadn¡¯t even gone outside for long today, needing to log every single entity in Lemrio¡¯s dungeon. Sure, he did log those beforehand, but the guide needed a smidge more information than he had. That included all the variations. John groaned, head in his hands, and muttered how he didn¡¯t expect this when he got the job.
But, he still did his job anyway. He wasn¡¯t going to send adventurers in without at least a decent guide, even if he knew the dungeon wasn¡¯t that deadly to begin with. Remembering that he would also need to work time slots for delving so that the dungeon isn¡¯t just a very crowded cave, he sighed again. Suffice to say, he was going to need some automation at some point. He took a short moment to stand up from his desk and wander in a circle, sorting his thoughts and muttering to himself.
¡°...If I get someone to manage the time slots, I¡¯ll need the dungeon to at least have three or four floors so that I earn enough money from the delving tax to pay the person managing it, assuming that everyone delving the dungeon paid the tax to begin with and that it was at maximum capacity. Factoring in human error, and the general size of the dungeon floors to begin with, the dungeon will need to have at least five floors before I can hire someone¡¡±
Fizz sorta just stood there. At some point he decided to steal a fork and knife from John¡¯s cupboard upstairs to cut the pie, and then stole some plates to serve the pie. John stopped muttering when he finally noticed Fizz in the room.
¡°...How long have you been standing there?¡±
Fizz just smiled, and handed John the pie slice on a plate. John¡¯s plate. He recognized it easily since John¡¯s plates were white with a blue pattern while Fizz¡¯s plates were white. John just shrugged, sat down, and decided to take a pie break. He could worry about the paperwork a bit later.
¡°John, you look like ya¡¯ haven¡¯t slept since yesterday. How long¡¯ave ya¡¯ been workin¡¯ on this?¡±
¡°Not that long.¡±
John replied with a bit of a shrug, but Fizz squinted at him in response. Fizz could tell when John wasn¡¯t feeling good, and right now, he knew that something was up.
¡°Be honest, pal. You look like ya¡¯ died.¡±
Fizz stated bluntly, and John smiled. He liked that Fizz wasn¡¯t the kind of person to sugarcoat things. Fizz grinned and grabbed John¡¯s shoulders after a bit.
¡°Say, how about we go fishing?¡±
¡°...Fishing?¡±
¡°Fishing.¡±
¡°Sure, why not.¡±
The two men grabbed long abandoned gear, went to the river in the middle of the forest, and sat together for a time while waiting for fish to bite. John found it a bit funny, really. Fizz always seemed to know when he needed a break and barged into his home accordingly. After a peaceful moment where the two enjoyed the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, John looked at what Fizz was putting on the fishing line.
¡°...You know, Fizz, I don¡¯t think that a cherry covered in sugar is healthy for the fish.¡±
Not a chapter
the computer i use to write chapters got hit with a football :(
No chapters untill i get a new computer
Writing this message from my xbox
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I cant type fast on controkller
Sory everyone i disdnht expect this
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