A Dungeon’s Survival

Sir Archibald II

Boom!

I winced. It wasn't as though I felt nothing, but the pain was distant, disconnected from me as my mindless kin twitched on the floor, the last vestiges of life leaving its body.

“How unfortunate,” I muttered under my breath.

With every failure came time lost, and with every death came wasted resources. We were short on time as it was, and I'd been given an impossible task with far too rapidly approaching of a deadline. I feared to admit it, even to myself, but the truth was, I didn't have the skill necessary to produce the concoction in which I'd been tasked to create. All I was doing was needlessly siphoning resources away from where they were truly needed.

I shook my head. I couldn't entertain such thoughts, not because they weren't true; I simply couldn't afford to fail. According to the message Lawrence had passed on to us from his master, the only way we could hope to solve things peacefully was by successfully making these permanent enhancers that he'd given me the recipe for. With the war brewing between this kingdom and its neighboring empire, if we could provide such treasures, it would be unlikely the kingdom could afford to lose us. Successfully producing them had the potential to buy our safety, which made each failure all the harder to swallow.

“Rose,” I ordered my assistant, “prepare some new Mandrakes for us.”

Even as I spoke, I began preparing for the next attempt. With one proxy, I dragged the fallen corpse off for harvesting. It was unlikely Stein would be able to get anything usable from its memories, but it was better to give him the chance than to waste its brain. There was always the possibility he'd be able to learn from my coordination, after all.

Quickly, once it was removed, I began wiping up the mess of failed potion from the floor. The last thing I needed was to slip in it during an important part of the process. I also dragged off the cauldron I'd been using, swiftly replacing it with a spare. Vie had asked for what I could salvage of my failures, which was a silver lining. If any part of my shortcomings could still prove helpful, I was thrilled to provide.

Once my workspace was cleaned to an acceptable degree, it was time to give things another go. I took a sip from a Minor Stamina Potion. Then, I began again.

With my Mycokinesis, I started dividing up the Migraine Fungus. Admittedly, it wasn't the ideal ingredient, but out of the resources available to me, it was the only one that could do what I needed. That was the reason I was making this enhancer in specific, after all. It was the only one I so much as had a chance to succeed with. The others all required ingredients we had no way to obtain, so suboptimal as they may have been, I made do with what I had.

“There we go,” I said as I portioned out the fungus appropriately.

Out of all the steps I needed to perfect in order to have a chance to succeed, this was the only one I was confident I'd mastered. My Mycokinesis gave me an edge that allowed me precise control over this ingredient in particular, which was vital since I had to combine only trace amounts of it with another concoction, Essence Diffuser. If I was off in my portioning, even by a slight amount, I risked turning what I was making unstable, and with how early on in the process this step was, the amount of time making an unnoticed mistake here would've cost me was outrageous.

“Mm,” I sounded, content that this entire attempt wouldn't be for naught due to a careless mistake in the beginning.

With the Migraine Fungus saturating the Essence Diffuser, a process that would take a significant amount of time, I set the vials the process was taking place in aside. Simultaneously, I had one of the other Trentis fetch a batch I'd started this process with much earlier. Then, I moved on to the next step.

Pulling out some Agila Formata, I began plucking leaves from the herbs. I needed exactly sixteen grams, something that my lack of proper tools made difficult to gauge. Fortunately, through a process of trial and error that'd been necessary back when the mistress's former fairy had given me recipes that measured ingredients in weight, I'd become intimately familiar with the feel of a gram. I still miscalculated on occasion, but with how many attempts I'd already given this recipe, I was confident in my ability to tell how much I needed, and with all of the extra hands I had available to me, it didn't take long to get what was required.

Next, I set upon crushing the petals of a flower of the Bloodthorn Vines. While I had yet to use them in any other concoction, I'd been assured they held the properties I required. They caused potions to be more thoroughly digested, a necessity for evoking long-term effects. Fortunately, through the use of her Monster Customization, the mistress had been able to grow me a surplus of the ingredient for little cost.

With the flower turned to dust, I added it and the Agila Formata to the Potion Base in the cauldron. These two ingredients would form the basis of the enhancer, the petals allowing it to saturate all that it needed to, and the Agila Formata lengthening the duration of the potion at the cost of potency to ensure it had time to permanently inspire changes in the drinker. With that done, I started a fire under the basin to bring it up to a boil and moved on.

Bitterwart, another of my new ingredients, was difficult to handle. Named for the painful blisters the mere act of touching it evoked, the root vegetable that supposedly resembled something called a beat was filled with juice that seared even my bark skin. Apparently, this was caused by the rampant magic in it trying to distort all life that came into contact with it. It was what would allow a potion to alter a brain, enhancing it without destroying it. Coaxing it into doing so, however, was easier said than done.

I'd initially asked for them for the purpose of making fast-acting poisons. The juice was so harmful that if bitten into, a Bitterwart could permanently alter someone's sense of taste, forever making everything they ate seem bitter unless they sought magical healing afterward. What I needed to do was to dilute that effect, and that started with juicing one.

Carefully, I set the vegetable in a spare cauldron I'd prepared for this very purpose. From there, I let one my proxies smash it with their fists for roughly a minute before scooping out what solid plant matter it could. I'd dedicated this proxy to the task specifically to minimize damage, and as a result, it had become useful for this job and this job alone. Its hands had warped and twisted until they could no longer handle anything delicate. It made me thankful the mistress had given them to me, though I also would've settled for some proper alchemy equipment.

Next, in order to dilute the substance, I added some crushed shadow and light mana crystals. They canceled each other out, as was evidenced by the Crystal Puffers the mistress had grown from them. If powdered and used in equal measure, they could weaken the magical effects of liquids, a use I had not unknown until I received this recipe. The problem was getting the proportions right.

Bitterwarts didn't all grow to be the same size, nor could a consistent amount of juice be extracted from them. The possibility of scooping out vials of the stuff to get more accurate measurements had crossed my mind, but I'd already come to the conclusion it would've been a waste of effort. An uneven amount of fibers and pulp remained in the juice, throwing off any attempt to calculate things precisely. Ideally, I would've meticulously strained the substance first, but I lacked the means to do so. For that reason, the best I could do was to estimate things, hope for the best, and wait until it came time to finish the enhancer to see if it would explode or not.

With my proportions being as close as I could get them, I moved on. Just like that, from the perspectives of every Trenti I had under me, I busily worked on various tasks. In one corner of my lab, I mixed up more Minor Healing Potion, a necessary ingredient to offset the damage wrought by the Bitterwart. Simultaneously, at a counter, I used a knife to tear away at a Penumbral Bulb, a plant whose effect would be vital in directing the enhancer's effect. Not even a scrap of the plant itself could remain clinging to the pit if it was to be usable.

With those tasks underway, I used my main body to walk over to where Rose silently worked on the key ingredients to all of this: the Mandrakes. More than anything, they'd been what were holding us back. Shriveled and malnourished, they didn't have the potency required to synthesize the other ingredients into a cohesive whole. There was little we could do about that, though. While it meant we were afforded the time and resources we needed to prepare for the Hero's invasion, the lack of delvers also meant we had no way of acquiring the mortal blood the Mandrakes needed in order to reach their full potential.

So far, we'd been trying unsuccessfully to substitute quality with quantity, a fruitless effort; I was sure. Still, it seemed like the only way, especially considering how futile our other attempts to remedy the problem had been. With no mortal blood to work with, we'd resorted to attempting to grow the Mandrakes with our own.

I wasn't sure what made mortal blood more valuable than that of monsters', but undeniably there was a difference. Neither the lifeblood of Trentis nor Lizard Men seemed to make a difference. The Mandrakes grew poorly regardless, and if there was a substitute or artificial method that could get the desired effect, I had yet to find it.

“Any changes?” I asked for the sake of it, already knowing the answer.

Rose shook her head in response. It seemed Plated Gator blood was no good either.

“I see,” I acknowledged,” Well, no matter. Good work on peeling and dicing them. Are you about ready to give things another go?”

“Hey Archie,” an unexpected response rang out from within my mind, causing me to blink momentarily until I realized it was the mistress's voice, not Rose having spontaneously developed the ability to speak or use telepathy.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat before before answering her call, “Yes, mistress?”

“Do you have a moment?”

“For you, always.”

“Thanks. Um, how do I even explain this? Adraugon just claimed a Lizard Man as his own through a soul-binding contract before passing out. Could you please send one of your proxies to my core and ask them to carry their new master to his favorite pile of copper for me? He took his hand off of my core, so I can't talk to him myself, and I feel bad just leaving him here. He looks like a lost puppy.”

“Um, certainly,” I said with distinct uncertainty, “You said he claimed a Lizard Man through a soul-binding contract, yes? And, if you cannot communicate with it, that would imply it was unbound, no? Is this going to be an issue?”

“Yes, and no. Well, the first part, yes; the second part, probably not. Um, actually, I'm not entirely sure. Maybe?”

“That does not inspire confidence.”

“Ugh, I don't know! I gave him the chance to try to recruit the Lizard Man, not expecting him to manage it, and he somehow did. He also somehow used me as a conduit to establish a soul pact or something. See?”

At her words, a message became visible to me.

[Achievement: Mediator of Souls!

Description: You have officiated a soul pact between two separate parties.

Effect: You have received 100,000 experience!]

Without delay, she continued, “There was also this, which I think is responsible for whatever is going on here, but it's all gone over my head. I have no clue what's going on.”

[Achievement: Overlord!

Description: One of your monsters has been classified as an overlord!

Effect: The monster has been given a choice of boons to bestow its vassals.]

“Hmm, that's strange,” I commented, “I could see how the troops Stein is training wouldn't count as vassals, but wouldn't the Trentis under my control count as such?”

“No clue, but with how he passed out immediately after and with the transformation that Lizard Man–er, Hunt–underwent, I think there's probably more to it than that. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the soul pact boiled down to, and I quote, 'give yourself to me.'”

“That would explain being called a vassal. Hmm, that is a rather extreme contract, though.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. I still have no clue why he agreed to it. Seriously, I think either he has something wrong with his head, or he was still too disoriented from being unbound to understand what was going on. Why else would anyone agree to a boastful lizard demanding you serve them?”

“Perhaps he was simply afraid?” I offered, “Adraugon can be a bit much at times. More importantly, though, to circle back around to an earlier point, did you say that the Lizard Man transformed?”

“Yeah, come see for yourself. It started off slow, but the changes got extreme pretty fast. Honestly, it looks like I dumped a ton of DP into him using Monster Customization. Actually, now that I mention it, the changes did kind of look like Monster Customization, too. It was pretty weird.”

“It sounds like. Oh, and it looks that way, too,” I responded as the proxy I'd sent rounded a corner, bringing the Lizard man into view, “Are you certain this is still a Lizard Man at all? Besides a resemblance, it sure doesn't look like one.”

“No clue, Archie. He looks like he was given steroids and plastic surgery.”

“Steroids? Plastic surgery?”

“Uh, steroids would be my old world's equivalent of permanent strength enhancers but with side effects, I think? I don't actually know much about them. As for plastic surgery, um, artificial body modifications?”

“That does seem an apt description,” I agreed.

Truly, the individual in question was a sight to behold.

Standing a solid foot or two taller than his more mundane brethren, he looked to be built like a Plated Gator. He had more muscles packed onto his body than a second-tier adventurer, though I suspected those were more for show than anything. Additionally, his features had sharpened in a way that conveyed danger, and his scales had darkened from his kind's usual tan to a deep ruby red. Most notably, though, from his forehead, he now sported a small but not insignificant horn that resembled a Horned Draco's. Surely that had to be Adraugon's influence at play, not that I could claim to understand what had caused this.

“Impressive, indeed,” I stated through the mouth of the Trenti I was controlling as it walked up to the Lizard Man–if he even was still a Lizard Man.

“Huh?” he responded unintelligently, as was to be expected of someone who I presumed to have sold his soul to a dragon he'd met mere moments prior.

“You must be Hunt, correct?” I asserted, “My name is Sir Archibald II, and I am a loyal servant of the mistress. Might I convince you to gather up your master there and bring him to his hoard so that he may sleep in a more convenient location?”

“Um, sure?”

“Very good. Now, if you'd follow me.”

He did as I suggested, and we began walking off in the direction of his room. As we moved, I considered giving him a brief explanation of how things worked around here, but I quickly dismissed the thought. That would be Adraugon's problem once he awoke. Instead, I had another idea that struck me. Pointless as it may have been, I was desperate enough to try just about anything.

“You know,” I started in as comforting a tone as I could manage, “having just submitted yourself to that dragon there, it would likely be in your best interest to get into his good graces, would it not?”

“Yeah?” he slowly responded, “I guess so. Yeah.”

“Then, allow me to fill you in on something. He is quite the greedy fellow. He loves collecting trophies and tribute almost as much as he loves killing things. Might I suggest you offer him something when he awakes?”

“What would I even give him? I don't have anything.”

“Perhaps, but luckily for you, I am an alchemist, and I happen to have a vast supply of valuable potions, some of which he was coveting just this morning. I wouldn't mind giving you one or two to offer him.”

“Really? That sounds great! Thanks–”

“–But not for free,” I cut him off.

“But, I just said I didn't have anything,” he stammered as he stumbled in place and blinked at me in confusion.

“Possessions? No, but it would be incorrect to assume you have nothing,” I reassured him, “All I ask of you is one small vial of your blood.”