A Dungeon’s Survival

Gyle

Apethis Tea, bitter yet refreshing in a way that words couldn't do justice–just how many years had it been since I'd last had a need for the substance? I certainly hadn't consumed any since immediately after setting myself up in the village of Firmsoil. I hadn't had a need for it since the days immediately following Felix's plot to rid the royal court of my presence. I also never consumed the liquid for leisurely purposes. The legally gray area that the substance fell under aside, I wasn't one to indulge in borderline-illicit magical concoctions with dangerous side effects without purpose. As for right now, I had plenty of reason to crack open my old tin of the stuff.

Memories associated with my concocting and consumption of the tea came back to me with every sip. The old king, the one who'd welcomed me into his court as his royal alchemist, frequently drank it. It was true that the risks of overconsumption did eventually catch up with him in his old age, but without it, his reign likely wouldn't have been as successful as it was.

As for the only other people I'd made it for, they were the most dedicated members of the kingdom's leadership over the past two centuries: generals, tacticians, and the most trusted advisors the kingdom had ever seen. They, unlike those currently leading our nation into decline, weren't ruled over by their own vices. Instead, they actually took pride in their work. The current king and those who utilized him as the figurehead that he was would never have been willing to drink it. They lacked the drive to do good by and care for the nation that was necessary to put its prosperity above their own immediate impulses and desires.

Ordinarily, I might have found myself reminiscing in such memories of better times, but ironically, the same concoction responsible for dredging them up also made that impossible for me. I didn't currently feel any nostalgia or even fondness for times long gone or anything else, for that matter. In fact, I felt nothing at all aside from the aching of my old bones.

That was the true nature of Apethis Tea, and it was also the reason I took another sip of it. In some ways it was a poison that affected the very soul itself. In others, it was among the strongest sedatives that existed. Its real value, however, was as a tool for those who needed to look at things logically and without their feelings getting in the way. That was why I was currently nursing a cup.

Emotions and morality were necessities for a working society to maintain itself. Ambition drove people to greatness. Fear held them back from making horrible mistakes, and morals prevented atrocities from being committed. Those things also held people back and drove them to take irrational actions with serious consequences.

That was what made Apethis Tea a valuable tool. It temporarily erased those things, allowing for people to look at situations entirely objectively and without much of their biases. It also allowed them to stop themselves from making mistakes they otherwise wouldn't be able to contain themselves from making. For me, I needed both of those benefits after the latest few reports I'd received. Their implications when paired with a few other details were dire. Without the tea, my emotions were sure to get the best of me.

“Sir,” Lawrence spoke to me in a concerned tone and with a conflicted expression on his pallid face, “are you sure about this?”

I met his gaze, fully discerning the emotions apparent in his eyes but unable to feel anything myself. I knew my current state was scaring the boy, as was what I was asking of him, but outside of the knowledge that it could affect his performance negatively, I couldn't particularly care. Certainly, I'd regret the actions I was currently instructing him to take once my emotions were no longer being suppressed, but given my current goals and priorities, I also knew those actions were necessary.

“Yes. Lawrence,” I answered, “I know you've gone through a terrifying experience, and I'm asking you to take on another risk, but if we do not act decisively, everything we've built could fall apart at a moment's notice. In fact, this goes beyond what we've built. Depending on the circumstances, this could lead to the fall of our entire nation or, at minimum, spell the end of Firmsoil. If you are unwilling, I will find another way, but even with the risks involved, I firmly believe this is the safest and most reliable course of action.”

“I'll do it then.”

His voice was still shaky, but it held an underlying determination that it previously lacked. I knew that he would agree if only I asked it of him. Had he declined, however, I would've still accepted that and moved on. Pushing him in regards to something as important as this would've only led to him hesitating when the time came, the cost of that easily outweighing any perceivable benefit.

That no longer mattered, though. He'd agreed. That meant I could stop considering alternatives and instead invest myself fully in the plan I'd already concluded as being the most likely to succeed.

“In that case, make your preparations,” I instructed him, “I have already spoken to Sirius, and he has pulled what strings he could to source the materials from other branches of the guild at a high cost. They will arrive tomorrow, and you will leave with them soon after. Expect roughly two hours between me getting them and handing them off to you. Depending on when they arrive, that could either be early tomorrow afternoon or late tomorrow night.

“Also, do not speak of the finer details to anyone, not even your team members. The less people who know, the better. The more this plan spreads, the more vulnerabilities it will inevitably develop, and I only have the time to prepare one mental ward prior to your mission.”

I watched my apprentice gulp. He was clearly apprehensive. Considering the plan, that was to be expected. It would've been more concerning if he was without reservations, but given the circumstances, it was the best solution I could come up with. There were just too many problems arising in too tight a span of time. Drastic measures were needed.

Still, I continued to run the calculations in my head. All the while, a feeling that I knew had to be rooted in something tangible prodded at my mind and screamed at me that I was missing something, an important variable. I wasn't sure what it was, but the possibility of it existing alone was enough to make me reassess the odds over and over again.

It was the best I could manage. Logical thinking and measuring probabilities was all I could do as things were. Even hope was beyond me in my current mental state, a good thing as relying on something so intangible would've only led to less thorough preparations.

In theory, my lack of emotions should've also made it easier not to care how thing went. It didn't. I knew I was going to have to live with whatever outcome came of this, and if I ended up needing the countermeasures I was preparing, I'd never forgive myself.

For that reason, even if I couldn't bring myself to care about the subject matter any more than I could a meaningless thought experiment, I could understand the importance of it. I needed things to go smoothly. I also needed to make sure I consumed a consistent intake of Apethis Tea until the situation was resolved. Without it, I knew I'd lack the mental fortitude to do what I needed to.

I wanted to tell myself that two days worth of the stuff wouldn't do any lasting damage to my soul, but given my current inability to delude myself, I could only admit that the risk of minor damage was low. Statistically, that was the lesser of the two evils presented to me. It wasn't as though I'd live long enough for the consequences to catch up to me should I fail, after all, and as bad as the consequences of things going poorly the next day were, the consequences of not being able to do what I needed to would have been much worse.

Emotions and morality held people back. Without them, it was easier to make mistakes that would haunt a person for life, but with them, it was harder to make the decisions one needed to regardless of the consequences. The worst part was that both extremes brought with them a disregard for the other's perspective.

What value did a person place on a life? What value did they place on their own life? What about an entire kingdom, and what of objective values being applied to such things?

It was easy for a person to be unable to see a forest through the trees when the things they personally cared about were involved. Likewise, when only looking at the larger picture, it was harder to care about the individual brush strokes that comprised it. Which perspective was more valid? A simple list of pros and cons was more effective, but it was far less human, and that meant something, even if I wasn't entirely sure what. I understood that as I stared down at my cup, wondering if breaking out these old magical tea grounds had been a mistake.

“Is this how you felt, Callahan?” I asked under my breath for an answer I'd never receive.

It was a pointless question. I knew that when I asked it, but I still did. As pointless as it might've been, however, there was much to be gained from putting myself in the same headspace as my old friend. He was the greatest king and the greatest man I'd had the honor of knowing over the course of my long life, and he'd brought Abustine the greatest prosperity it ever saw.

“What?” Lawrence asked.

“Nothing. I was merely thinking of a man who would be disappointed if he saw me now.”

Callahan Abustine, I never was as strong as him, and I knew I never would be. Still, he influenced my list of priories till this day. That was an objective truth. I only wished I had his wisdom now as I contemplated the countermeasures I needed to take.

The pieces of the puzzle painted a grim picture. From the assassin only a couple of weeks prior to the mind control reported by the scouting group in the Dungeon, those details alone made it clear something was brewing. If it were only those events, I'd likely have dismissed it all as some scheme cooked up by Felix. It wasn't, though, and what concerned me most were the new developments from this very day.

Only a few hours prior, I'd sensed the most absurd mana signature I'd ever detected, save for maybe the core of the most dangerous Dungeon I'd ever ventured into. The arrays I'd set up to monitor the Onikuma even captured readings from it, and according to them, it could only have been one of the most powerful mages in the entire world. Adding to that, a low-leveled group of adventurers who'd been about to venture into the Dungeon right then reported hearing words yelled out deafeningly loud from the depths of the cave.

“You insignificant, arrogant resource sink, you dare to make an enemy out of the council,” were words that could imply a lot of things, none of which were good.

When paired with the other strange goings-on as of late, especially with the timing in relation to the scouting group's delve the day prior, I simply couldn't chalk things up to coincidence anymore. For all I knew, even the monster horde was related, and with the war with Drulin on the horizon, the answer as to what was transpiring seemed clear as day to me. There was foreign interference at play.