A Dungeon’s Survival

Connie

The pyromaniacal fairy fluttered in place, glaring daggers toward Stein as the seconds ticked past in silence. In between the two, suspended in midair by magic, was a roaring sea of intensely burning flames, and much to the fay's visibly growing irritation, no matter how much effort he seemed to expend in an attempt to force it to move, the inferno remained locked in place as though it had a mind of its own. Inert as it may have been, however, the sea of fire was slowly expanding alongside the palpable tension in the room. That was until, suddenly, eight simply spoken words halted the growth of one of those two things. Sadly, it wasn't the kindling of the fire.

“What small winged person with fire doing here?”

I had not ordered Stein to say that, but after my initial surprise at his unexpected words, I actually found myself approving of the question, if not his exact phrasing of it. I could assume the answer, but given the chance to hear directly from the mouth of the person who'd shown up only to start threatening me, I wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to gain more information if I could help it. The fairy, on the other hand, did not seem nearly as interested in providing answers.

“I don't know why you can still move, ghoul, but I'm not here for the likes of you. Now, submit!”

Just as when he'd first appeared, the fay raised his voice with the last word he shouted. My Dungeon trembled under its weight. That was not the extent of its impact, however. At the same time, Stein collapsed, falling to his knees in a similar condition to how I'd last seen Archie. A realization dawned on me at that, and I quickly looked throughout my Dungeon. Stunned and motionless, I found all of my monsters in comparable states. From Vie and Pee to Prism and Rose, all of them were as collapsed as their unique physiologies would allow and trembling.

“That's more like it,” the fairy smugly intoned at the sight of his work.

Before, I'd assumed Archie's stunned and catatonic state to be an isolated issue. In retrospect, though, considering how he'd been able to rein in his fears enough to negotiate with the bear before, it would've been odd if the shouting of an angry fairy alone was all it took to push him to his limits. Now, it seemed clear that wasn't the case.

That left me with a new question, however. Why was it that, when Stein seemed to have gone completely unaffected by whatever had caused this before, he now suddenly appeared to be susceptible? Then, to add more confusion to the matter, another development shifted the situation yet again.

As quickly as he'd entered into that state, my awakened Mimicry Ghoul seemed to break free from it, rising back to his feet and asking, “Why is mistress's room on fire? Is this little winged man's doing?” as though his momentary seizing up had never happened.

Stunned, I blankly stared at the undead for a long moment before regaining my wits. Somehow, he'd recovered, and if that was the case, I needed to press on. I couldn't afford to lose the initiative here, even if it meant relying on false bravado when I was still grasping for answers myself.

Stein, repeat after me–

“–Is that the best you've got? You came here to negotiate, didn't you? Are you just going to keep playing with fire, or are we opening dialogue, oh self-righteous representative of the Fairy Council?”

Even as I instructed Stein on what to say, I made use of my ability to split my focus. The reddening face of the fay didn't escape my notice, but neither did my awakened monster's status screen. Frantically, I skimmed through it for any clue as to why the ghoul was the only monster I had left that could function. The answer wasn't as obvious as I'd hoped, but there was something.

Decaying? I wondered as I read the effect description.

It was a mostly detrimental ability, but it did offer one benefit, namely an immunity to poison. It was the only thing listed by the System that I could see accounting for his being able to resist the pure terror that the fairy was inflicting upon my monsters, but still, it didn't add up, not perfectly. Even if it was a magical poison being transmitted by the fay's voice, I was pretty sure Stein shouldn't have been affected by it in the first place on account of what the System referred to as an immunity. By all definitions of the word, him being immune to something should've meant that he couldn't be affected by it at all, not just the he could recover from it faster; otherwise, I was never going to be able to trust the word, “immunity,” again. Apparently, my confusion was shared.

“What trick is this?” the fay demanded, completely unaware of the panic I was hiding from him.

“Trick? What trick?” Stein said of his own volition again, a response I could've agreed with had it not been for his genuine lack of understanding.

Then, something clicked in my mind.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me.

“Stop playing dumb!” the fairy shouted.

Nope, I thought to myself, as much as I wish he was, he's not playing.

The emotions I felt from my intermediary all but confirmed it. Fear rooted itself in his unbeating heart at the fairy's words, but before long, that fear dissipated, replaced with only confusion. He not only lacked any understanding as to what was going on. He was literally forgetting that he was scared in real time.

Somehow, even if it was to my benefit, that annoyed me more than anything else. It drove home the fact that he was a lost cause, yet no matter how impossible it seemed to be to make something out of him, I still needed sculpt the lump of clay incapable of holding a shape that he was into something useful. It felt like an impossible task, but that was a problem for later.

Stein, I thought to him with a mental sigh, I want you to activate Skill Mimicry on the fairy. After that, say–

“–No tricks, not like your dubious council. If you can't figure out what's going on, maybe the information you pride yourself on isn't as vast as you believe it to be.”

I knew I was intentionally provoking the fay, but I was also buying myself time. If I was going to be stuck negotiating with someone like him, I wanted every last drop of knowledge I could get a hold of first, and besides, I was curious. At this point I was almost certain it was an ability he was using to debilitate my monsters, but I also wondered if it could be more than that. Since I just so happened to be perfectly equipped to investigate that suspicion, I chose to do so, and I was rewarded for my efforts. Presented to me in written words by the System itself, I received the answer I sought in the form of a changing line of text.

[Skills: Calligraphy, Evasion (Mimicked), Stealth, Throwing, Swordsmanship]

[Skills: Calligraphy, Evasion, Stealth, Throwing, Swordsmanship, Intimidation (Mimicked)]

As simple as that, I got my confirmation. An ability still could've been at play, and more likely than not, there was one. Skills, to my knowledge, had no supernatural effects, after all. What they did do, however, was serve as accurate representations of individuals' capabilities. With that being the case, there were things I could glean from seeing his. I wasted no time in seeking those hidden nuggets of knowledge out.

[Skill: Intimidation (Mimicked)

Level: 0 (82)

Description: This skill affects your ability to inflict fear in the hearts of others.]

I almost missed the fairy's next words as I gawked at the skill's level.

“Do not insult the honor of the Fairy Council.”

Under different circumstances, I might've struggled to find words when faced with the fact that the man who'd come here trying to kill me had skills as powerful as his, but his words managed to strike just the right nerve for me to overlook that. Emboldened by his proven inability to harm me and the resentment I held for his council, I ordered Stein to make full use of the skill he'd mimicked, record the memory of him doing so for later, and to repeat after me.

“Honor,” he growled out in a tone of voice that was far deeper and clearer than his normal manner of speaking while also straightening his poor posture, “You dare come here speaking of honor when you're council is the one who's kidnapped innocent people and has been forcing them to fight for their lives on a daily basis? No, I won't insult the honor of the Fairy Council. It doesn't have any for me to insult!”

The shift was night and day. Under normal circumstances, Stein was unsettling at best. On a dime, however, everything about his demeanor and how he carried himself had changed. Even if the level one ghoul hadn't actually become any more capable or dangerous, he certainly became more imposing. It was enough to take even me by surprise, especially considering the fear my own words spoken through his mouth inspired in me, an effect I simply didn't feel from anything the fairy said. It wasn't something I planned on letting go to waste.

“Now,” Stein growled out at my command, stomping as he did so to punctuate his words, “how about you do us all a favor and snuff out those little flames of yours. It should be pretty clear by now that they're not doing you any good, and more than anything, if you haven't noticed, you're roasting your own subordinate with them. Are you still here to talk, or are you full of hotter air than you're failed murder attempt is still putting out?”

I didn't expect him to actually extinguish the fire, but I was confident my point got across either way. The fact that Fabian was on the ground sweating a puddle only served to strengthen my argument. His failed attempt at intimidation had gotten him nowhere, and he had to understand that. It was just a matter of how he'd respond.

From continuing his tantrum to leaving, there were plenty of things that he could've done, all of which would've dictated how the rest of our interaction would go. As it stood, I couldn't predict what he'd do, but I didn't need to. Soon enough, he made his decision.

All at once, the flames filling the majority of the room started to move. Coalescing, they began to form a blindingly bright ball of fire in the palm of the fairy's hand. I half-expected him to try throwing it again, my previous confidence slipping away as I wondered if my ability would be enough to prevent him from indirectly killing me by caving my Dungeon in on top of my core. Then, in a move I hadn't expected from the tiny red-haired man, he clenched his fist around the orb of magic, snuffing it from existence.

“Ugh,” he grunted in annoyance, “for what little it's worth, I objected to the Hero summonings. It was an incredible waste of mana and poorly thought out. What's been done has been done, however, and I will not compromise when it comes to upholding the sacred duties of the Dungeon Fairies. The world is at stake. Morals and honor be damned, I'd sooner die than let things go back to how they used to be.

"Two thousand years ago, the Dungeon War nearly resulted in the extinction of all mortals and Dungeons alike. It's the Fairy Council's duty to prevent a repeat of that, and I will personally dispose of anything or anyone who's existence poses a risk of that happening. I don't know what you're doing to stop me, but here's your one and only chance: convince me you aren't a threat to the world.”