Chapter 214
"Reward, you say?"
"Indeed, a reward."
A direct negotiation with the Spirit King himself.
At the mention of a reward, I suppress the urge to lean forward eagerly and glance at Amina.
This is, after all, a reward for *her* song. It’s not something I can decide on my own.
"Amina, is there anything you want?"
"Want?"
Amina, who had assumed I would handle the negotiations, blinks in surprise at the sudden question. She thinks for a moment before shaking her head.
"Hmm… not really."
She couldn’t think of anything.
"Ingrid makes delicious meals, the people in the shopping district make me cute clothes, and I have fun just being with everyone. I already have everything I want!"
It wasn’t that she lacked desire—she was simply content.
"Besides, just like the spirits, there are so many people who want to hear me sing! What more could I ask for?"
Her pure love for singing meant she truly had no wants. To her, an audience that enjoyed her songs was more precious than jewels, mansions, or any other treasure.
"I see. That must be why our kin are so eager to hear your voice."
"Amina sings purely because it’s fun. That’s why it’s so enjoyable to listen to."
"Then I look forward to it even more. Unfortunately, she asks for no compensation, but as the Spirit King, I cannot simply make a request without offering something in return."
Amused by her sincerity, the Spirit King nods approvingly.
"Then, Liberta, you shall decide in her stead. Surely you have a wish or two of your own?"
"Really? You’re asking *me* after *her*?"
Compared to her purity, my desires feel almost greedy. There are countless things I could ask for—materials unique to the spirit world, for one. One or two wishes wouldn’t be enough.
"She is the exception. As long as your requests bring no harm to us, I shall grant them with an open mind."
"Then I won’t hold back."
This reward was for Amina’s performance. The question was whether to aim low or high.
"My first request is permission to stay in the spirit world and grow stronger."
"First, you say? And if you wish to stay, then you must know of *that*, correct?"
"Yes. For my second request, I ask for permission to enter the Dungeon of Ephemeral Bubbles—the one created by the Spirit King himself."
I decided to push my luck, asking not only for residence but also access to a dungeon exclusive to this world.
The Dungeon of Ephemeral Bubbles.
A dungeon shaped by the Spirit King’s power, capable of replicating any dungeon from our world.
It morphs according to the challenger’s desires, recreating even the smallest details—monsters that grant experience, drops, and boss fights—all without requiring dungeon keys.
"Impressive. I had thought none in your world knew of it. Truly, you are the Hero of the Goddess of Wisdom."
Originally, this dungeon was created as a training ground for spirits before they crossed into our world.
"Would you tell me how you learned of it?"
"If you’re willing to pay the price."
"Then I shall refrain. I doubt I could afford your terms."
In the game, this dungeon unlocked progressively as players met certain conditions—a post-game challenge system of sorts.
Many games have something similar: an arena where you face previously encountered foes, unlocking greater rewards until, finally, an ultimate hidden boss appears.
Though this dungeon lacks such a reward system, its very existence is a treasure in itself for us.
"However, granting unlimited access to my creation for a single performance is hardly a fair exchange. You may use it three times."
A limit was expected. Even in the game, using it wasn’t free—it required offerings in exchange for spirit medals, the local currency.
The lowest-tier dungeons cost a hundred medals, scaling up to five hundred, two thousand, five thousand, and even ten thousand for the highest tiers.
By not specifying a tier and simply granting three uses, he was effectively allowing us to challenge *any* tier—three times.
An incredibly generous offer.
But three chances weren’t enough.
We needed more—experience, items, and other essentials.
"No, this isn’t just for one performance."
Now came the real negotiation.
"If the first concert fails to impress, then three attempts will suffice."
If I could secure this, we could focus entirely on leveling up, distancing ourselves from the impending disaster.
"But if you permit it, we’d like to hold regular concerts during our stay."
I flash a grin—one I know looks a little suspicious.
"Oh?"
The Spirit King’s interest is piqued. A predatory smile curls on his lips.
"Even the most splendid performance loses value if repeated endlessly. Do you truly expect me to pay for such a thing?"
"Of course not. We’ll keep it fresh—new songs, classics, fan requests, and more. There are endless ways to entertain."
I wasn’t just any gamer. With over a thousand songs and choreographies memorized from rhythm games, and Amina’s talent for learning new material, we could deliver something special every time.
"How about songs even *you* have never heard, Spirit King? Doesn’t that intrigue you?"
"…"
"…"
"Truly, the Hero chosen by the Goddess of Wisdom is fearsome indeed."
After a brief silence, the Spirit King grins and nods.
"Very well. Depending on this performance, I shall permit future concerts. During your preparation periods, you may freely enter and use the Dungeon of Ephemeral Bubbles. I shall even arrange lodging. However, the moment I declare a concert unsatisfactory, you will leave this world immediately. Any objections?"
The terms were performance-based, but we had secured residence and dungeon access.
More than enough—but there was one last thing.
"If possible, I’d like the time dilation to remain as it is now."
"Oh? Are you certain? Human lives are fleeting. Slowing time in your world means spending your lifespan here."
"It’s fine. If anything, I’d prefer it even faster."
Maintaining the time ratio was crucial. If it reversed—one hour here becoming a day back home—we’d end up like Urashima Taro.
The Spirit King chuckles at my concern.
"You doubt my power?"
"Eh?"
"Did you truly believe this was my limit?"
He then shatters my expectations.
The maximum time ratio in the game was 72:1.
Yet he treats adjusting it as casually as a quick trip to the store.
With a flick of his wrist, he announces,
"The current ratio is now 100:1."
Then 200:1.
300:1.
The clock tower’s hands freeze on one side while the other ticks normally.
Spirit King Divan.
In the game, he was an uncontractable entity, the absolute ruler of the spirit world.
But this power—this was beyond anything I knew.
"And now, 720:1. Ten times the original."
One hour here became a month back home.
A single day there would span nearly *two years* here.
"Now, Liberta. I have granted your wishes—dungeon access and residence. But what will you offer in exchange for this time dilation?"
Stunned, I struggle to answer.
The Spirit King smiles, amused by my hesitation.
"Do not fret. Did I not say it earlier? Your event management is what makes the concerts shine. Amina’s voice is enchanting, but it is *your* work that completes the experience."
The pressure lifts.
Confused, I meet his gaze—only to find a childlike grin.
"Add some festivities alongside the concerts, and we’ll call it even."
Such a small price for manipulating time itself.
But if he was satisfied, so was I.
"Understood. I’ll give it my all."
A promise was a promise.
And I intended to keep it.
With that, I began brainstorming ways to exceed the Spirit King’s expectations.