A Dungeon’s Survival

Connie

I could only stare as I watched the scouting group make their way through my Dungeon. It wasn't the large packs some of them were wearing that'd caught my attention. Instead, it was the composition of the group that did.

Flur, the most dangerous person among them and the girl who led the group, was noticeably absent. In her place was a vaguely familiar face that I hadn't seen in quite some time. In fact, it'd been so long and she'd deteriorated to such a state that I hardly recognized the somber human woman. The only reason I was confident it was her was because of the much more recognizable spell book she carried. It was the same one Noctis had borrowed for us, and without it, I doubted I would've even been able to tell it was her.

In the past, she'd been mess. That much was undeniable, but if the antics she and her old team had gotten up to were anything to go off of, she'd at least been a lively one. Now, she didn't even look functional. A single glance at her knotted brown hair was enough to make me doubt she'd so much as combed it over the last couple of weeks, and I couldn't help but to think the blank expression she wore would've been more at home on a corpse than a living, breathing person's face. In that state, she appeared even morel lifeless than Stein, and that was concerning for a number of reasons. I couldn't imagine what the others had to be thinking to bring her along with them in that state.

Then, strange for entirely different reasons, there was the fact that the group was coming by so late. More often than not, they were one of if not the first group to enter my Dungeon on any given day. Sure, there were times where they'd shown up later than usual, but this was an extreme I'd yet to see from them and hadn't been expecting. It was well past the point where adventurer groups normally stopped showing up, and considering this group's normally punctual timing, a serious anomaly coming from them.

For these reasons, I made sure to watch them closely as they made their way through my first few rooms. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but the odd atmosphere surrounding the them wasn't it. For the most part, they were strangely silent as they single-mindedly trudged onward, and whenever they did talk, it was almost expressly to instruct the new addition to their group on what to do. Other than that, there was a degree of seriousness and caution above what I'd come to expect from them. That paired with the way their apprentice alchemist kept fidgeting was unsettling.

Then, they reached the second floor, and their progress ground to a halt. It was normal for them to move through the hallway filled with volatile Crystal Puffers slowly, but without their insectinoid leader and her ability to see in the dark, their caution reached new heights. Their progress was painfully slow, and watching them advance was reminiscent of watching paint dry. If it weren't for the possibility that they're intentions were nefarious, I would've just gone back to working on my new room, and even with that possibility on the table, I almost did. Eventually, though, they made it to the room housing my boss Bloodthorn Vines and stopped.

Just what are they up to? I wondered.

It didn't take long for me to get my answer. After a short delay, the group began removing the packs they'd brought, and one of them, Lawrence stepped forward. I watched expectantly as he took a few deep breaths.

Then he yelled out, “Sir alchemist, are you there?”

I paused in confusion for a brief moment before it clicked. We–or, more specifically, Archie–had visitors.

* * *

Lawrence

My heart was threatening to beat its way out of my chest. I felt like the stress from today alone had aged me a couple of years. Convincing the others that we had to delve the Dungeon today had been bad enough without Flur and Lance's demand that we also recruit Octavia for it.

It wasn't as though I couldn't see their point about needing the extra person with Flur down, but out of all people, they picked Oct. It wasn't like I had anything against the drunkard mage. If anything I felt bad for her. She lost her entire party a couple months back during the bandit raid after all, but that sympathy wasn't enough to alleviate the pressure that decision had put on me.

Ever since her party was killed alongside Flur and Lance's old one, she'd spent all her time passed out drunk in the inn, which, unsurprisingly, is where she was when we found her. Concerns about her mental state aside, she'd been in no physical condition to help us, a problem that'd fallen on me to fix. It'd been nerve-racking trying to throw together an elixir to detox her before my master finished his preparations, and had the supplies he'd sourced not come later than hoped, there was no way I would've managed it.

Still, I'd done it, and here we were. Even if it'd made me feel like I was about to burst from nerves and anxiety all day, I was here, in the depths of the Dungeon, with everything he'd put together. Now, the rest fell to me. I needed carry out his orders precisely and, most importantly, without messing everything up.

No pressure, I tried telling myself to no avail; even to myself, my words rang hollow.

With that being the case, I took a few deep breaths and shouted, “Sir alchemist, are you there?” in an attempt to just get this whole thing over with, but no sooner had the words left my mouth than fear rooted itself in my heart.

Was that a good way to address them? Ugh, did I mess up already? I wondered.

People called themselves alchemists, not monsters, and people certainly didn't call monsters alchemists. I knew it was more than likely a person and not a monster I was dealing with, but I also knew I couldn't let them know that I knew that. Gyle had told me as much, but he'd also said to act respectfully, and no alternative forms of address I could think of were likely to be received as that. That's why I'd decided on, “Sir alchemist,” ahead of time. Considering Lance had claimed it referred to itself as an alchemist, I figured it was the best bet, but what if I'd been wrong?

Those thoughts and many similar to them raced through my mind as my unease continued to grow. Then, at some point, I realized that and started wondering how long it'd been. I hadn't received an answer yet, which was concerning. I wondered if I should call out again, and after a few brief moments of consideration, I was about to, but before I could, I received a response from an unexpected direction.

“But of course I'm here! Where else would I be?”

I nearly jumped out of my boots as a Trenti stepped out from behind the tree that served as the centerpiece of the room. My first thought was about why it'd come from that direction. My second was in regards to why the Bloodthorn Vines we hadn't dealt with were ignoring him. I wondered if the body being native to the Dungeon was enough for the monsters here to ignore the interloper. Then, my blood turned cold as I considered the idea that it, too, was under the mind mage's control. Before I could come to a firm conclusion, however, the Trenti continued.

“Are those the ingredients I requested?”

Realizing that I hadn't said anything since it appeared, I felt a surge of embarrassment. I didn't let that stop me, though. Instead, I grabbed for the lifeline it had extended to me.

“Yes, these bags contain everything you requested. Twenty samples of each.”

Even as I spoke, I knew I was talking fast. My nerves were on full display. I just hoped it wouldn't negatively impact this meeting.

“Excellent!” the creature said without missing a beat, “That was much faster than I anticipated. Oh, the experiments I'll be able to run with these, they'll be marvelous! I can't wait.”

Every fiber of my being yelled at me to do something as it spoke, the monster slowly advancing as it did so. I restrained myself, though. My instructions were clear, and I could neither afford to run nor attack it here. Instead, I slowly, as to not attract unwanted attention, reached my hand to a pouch at my side. Then, before I could do anything else, I found myself jumping, startled as words loudly called out from behind me.

“Holy shit! It's actually a talking mushroom! I thought you guys were just messing with me.”

Had it not been for all of the training I'd undertaken as a new adventurer, I would've almost certainly spilled the powder at my fingertips. Thankfully, I managed to catch myself. Had I not, things could have taken a turn for the worse incredibly fast there.

“Oct!” Lance hissed in response to the mage's sudden outburst.

“Sorry,” she said with an exaggerated shrug I caught out of the corner of my eye, “it's my first time seeing a static monster, let alone one that can talk coherently and bargain. Do you have any clue how rare that is? If you wanted me to stay silent and out of the way, you shouldn't have forcibly sobered me up and dragged me here. There's legends about this kind of thing, you know. Excuse me for getting excited.”

I had no clue what kind of legends she was talking about, nor did I care. My mind was already racing to figure out how to smooth things over should the thing have taken offense to her words. Fortunately, it didn't seem to have.

“Ha,” the the goblinoid laughed boisterously, “I suppose that, given all of the conflict between our people throughout history, this is an anomaly, isn't it? Adventurers normally thrive on killing monsters, and few of our kind are capable of thought advanced enough to put aside our base instincts.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. He was playing with us. His charade wasn't even a good one. He was pretending to be a monster, yet he spoke like a philosopher and failed to even take on his self-assigned role beyond surface level. This was no Trenti.

“You know history?” Octavia asked, latching onto a part of the creature's response I'd completely overlooked.

“A bit,” it answered, “though I must admit the scope of my knowledge in that area is limited. Aside from your friend here, not many people bring history books into the Dungeon. Truly, it is a shame.”

I blinked a couple of times, wondering, History books in a Dungeon? Who'd bring something like that here.

Then, it hit me. In a way, Adventurers Through the Ages, despite being about adventuring in general more than anything, could be considered a history book, and it would've covered conflicts between people and monsters. More than that, I'd lost my copy of it here. I was the person who'd brought a history book into a Dungeon. I'd just never thought of it that way, instead considering the tome a reference I could use while adventuring.

Having it said the way the creature had just put it was enough to make my cheeks heat up. Then, I remembered Lance mentioning in passing that it also claimed to have read the journal I'd lost in here, the one I'd filled with doodles of Autumn. With that thought, my light embarrassment intensified, and my first clenched around the powder in my hand.

“Eh, you're not missing much,” Octavia continued, completely unaware of my current mental anguish, “Most of those things are dry reads at best.”

“Perhaps,” the monster replied, “but still, tales of wars and adventure are more enjoyable than dull catalogs of monster types.”

“Fair enough. I've read my fair share of those. So, are you guys done with this transaction now? As fantastical as this has been, I'd like to go back to drowning myself in alcohol as soon as possible.”

“Ah, of course. Allow me to confirm the contents of these sacks, and you can be on your way.”

The words were enough to snap me from my thoughts. As the Trenti approached, it was now or never. I needed to act.

I closed my eyes for a blissfully long second as I clamped my teeth shut and sucked in a deep breath through them. Then, I opened them. In the same moment, I yanked my hand free from my pouch and launched the contents at the Trenti. The powder connected in a burst of color, the blend of concoctions taking effect. Simultaneously, I gripped the small black orb my master had given me within my sleeve where it remained out of sight, making absolutely sure not to inject any mana into it whatsoever.

I heard gasps come from behind me. The others hadn't known I was going to do this. Mind mages were dangerous, and had I told them, it would've created additional vulnerabilities. The same was true of the fact that this wasn't an actual monster we were dealing with. My master had only told and prepared mental defenses for me, and now that I'd played my hand, I needed to capitalize on the moment before any unaccounted for factors could lead to disaster.

“Who do you work for!?” I yelled at the man on the other end of the Trenti's mind, knowing that, whatever answer they gave, it would be the truth.