[The Impeccable Adventure of the Reluctant Dungeon] - Book 4 - Chapter 32

Switches liked to consider himself a simple gnome. He hadn’t lived particularly long, though in that time he had seen his share of interesting events and failed experiments. It hadn’t always been like that. His family never had enough time, which was expected of dungeon gnomes, and the rest of his litter were markedly substandard. All of them had chosen the steady, yet unimaginative path of minion equipment. Universally, it was seen as a solid job: dungeons were always in need of knickknacks for their growing armies. Even digger minions were more efficient when equipped with a wrist-shovel or two. Yet, Switches found the experience incredibly boring. That was the reason he took the first chance he got, applying to become an assistant engineer to the dungeon’s drilling expert.

The gnome still remembered the disappointment on his father’s face, the few seconds he had devoted to staring him down. Drilling was seen as beneath gear crafting, in many cases, it literally was. Yet, even at a young age, Switches saw what the gnomes around him couldn’t—the specialty didn’t particularly matter, it was the advancement that was important.

For three years, Switches endured the stupidity of his gnome superior. To this day, it remained a mystery how the dungeon had granted him the position in the first place. One couldn’t say that the drilling engineer’s work was particularly poor. What it lacked was an ounce of imagination or a drive for improvement. The tools, methods, and practices had to be at least half a century old, and the engineer refused to change a thing. It was inevitable that he’d end up making a mistake, just as it was inevitable that the dungeon would consume him as punishment. At that point, Switches took over.

Being a drill engineer wasn’t particularly inspiring, but it at least provided Switches with the chance to actually work on something that involved actual engineering.

The gnome had put in every ounce of ingenuity and creativity, creating the first full-size non-minion tunnel drill. It was twice as efficient as anything the dungeon had seen and didn’t require minions or vast amounts of magic energy. The dungeon would definitely have loved it, or so the gnome thought, yet before that could happen it was attacked by a larger dungeon and subsequently consumed. As was standard practice, the core of the defeated dungeon had been devoured along with all minions. The dungeon gnomes, in contrast, only received a change of employer… at least those that didn’t annoy the attacking minion bosses.

Viewed as insignificant, Switches changed employment, becoming an ordinary gnome engineer under the new dungeon.

The conditions in the new dungeon proved to be less than adequate. Apparently, Switches’ new master was militarily focused, so put all the effort into developing combat creatures and minions. Gnomes were only useful for improving minions and bosses as quickly as possible, and got consumed should they fail to keep up with the dungeon’s expectations and growing ambitions.

It wasn’t pleasant, but Switches got to show his expertise in creating things. It was a small wonder how efficient one could become when consumption was the expected punishment.

The gnome’s skill improved, while his life conditions got worse and worse, until, once again, the inevitable happened. As one would imagine, the dungeon stumbled upon an enemy that it couldn’t defeat. Countless minions perished in the slaughter that followed. The dungeon itself lost a lot of its body, forsaking entire sections to maintain the rest. That’s when Switches had gotten his break. Having had enough of dungeons, he fled with a few pieces of equipment, and never looked back.

Ultimately, that was the start of his Lord Mandrake phase, in which he was determined to rid the world of dungeons. Sometime along the way he might have gone slightly astray and gotten corrupted due to the demon hearts’ influence, but as the gnome liked to say: no one is perfect.

“Sir?” the gnome’s assistant asked, breaking his train of thoughts. “Aren’t we moving a bit too far away?” he asked. “The city is ten miles away.”

“Hmm…” Switches muttered, giving the alchemist a lazy glance. “Do any of the passengers want to get off?” he asked.

“Err, no, but they are wondering why we aren’t turning around.” There was a note of concern in the man’s voice. “Do you think that the fighting will get a lot more destructive?”

“Hmm…” Switches thought about it.

The gnome had a pretty good idea of what would happen. Actually, he was almost certain about it. The only thing he was wondering was whether it was wise to share it with anyone else. Unlike him, the inhabitants of Rosewind were unaware of Theo’s true nature.

“I doubt it. The boss has already lost.”

“L-l-lost?” the alchemist stuttered in disbelief. “The baron can’t lose! He’s the baron! He has faced dozens of monsters far larger before!”

The statement caused even the gnome to offer a skeptical look.

“Maybe not dozens…” the alchemist corrected himself. “But he’s the baron!”

“Senior apprentice,” Switches said in an authoritative tone. “The baron is the baron, but so there are monsters that just can’t be beaten.” He glanced at the navigational instruments, then let out a slight sigh. “The city won’t survive this. I’m sure the baron will do his all, but it’s already too late. The only thing that’s left is to run away.”

Each word felt like an anvil falling from the sky onto someone’s foot: heavy, hurtful, yet with enough truth to make someone think.

“We’re abandoning Rosewind?” the alchemist asked as the realization slowly sept in.

Switches didn’t reply. Answering that particular question required his going into details that no one wanted disclosed. There was no denying that the time spent with Theo was the best and most productive he’d had. Apart from being given relatively free rein to build what he wanted, life in the heroic dungeon was never boring. If only he had had a few more years, maybe he would have been able to create a fleet of dungeon-crippling airships. They were not to be used on Theo, of course, but on anyone else that threatened him. Demons aside, the gnome didn’t dare go against the council of dungeons.

“All good things come to an end,” the gnome said. “Go ask the others if they want to take any friends or family aboard. We’ll be passing over the hamlet soon.”

“Hmm?” The assistant blinked. “You can use the—” He pointed at one of the devices. Seeing the gnome’s unambiguous expression made it clear this wasn’t a time for arguments or suggestions. “I’ll go right away…” he said in a defeated voice and left the bridge, leaving Switches alone.

“All good things come to an end,” the gnome repeated in an attempt to convince himself.

Running from a sinking ship was an inevitability. Switches had spent decades learning how to get good at it. In the end, regret was something only the living could feel.

“Sorry, Boss,” he said to no one in particular. “I promise to name my next line of airships after you.”

In the city, the fire dragon let out a blast of flames, trapping the demonic rabbit in a sea of fire. As devastating as the action was, mostly to the city, it failed to kill the bunny.

“Not that I’m complaining, but it’s starting to get a bit repetitive,” Duke Rosewind muttered. Compared to previous battles, there wasn’t that much going on. True, large parts of the city were in flames, but the lack of armies, or even cursed letters, made it appear a lot more inoffensive.

“It’s the nature of the creature,” Spok said in diplomatic fashion. “It’s indestructible, yet lacks the strength to fight against the baron’s magic and the dragon.”

“The dragon was on our side?” the duke sounded outright surprised. “I thought it was a free for all.”

Spok didn’t immediately reply. There were a whole lot of half-truths she could say, though she didn’t particularly want to.

“It might be,” she said in the end. “Hopefully—”

“Spok!” Theo’s voice boomed from the spirit guide’s core pendant. “You can go anywhere, right?”

“I am observing the fight with Cecil,” Spok quickly said, retaining a calm exterior. “He was just telling me that you aren’t displaying much progress.”

“Ha!” the dungeon shouted out of habit.

“Just some constructive criticism, my good friend,” the duke chimed in. “Nothing to be worried about. Everyone has performance issues now and again. How’s the fight with the Demon Lord?”

“Swell,” the dungeon said, not even sure why he bothered. With his plan set in motion, Duke Rosewind, or anyone in the city for that matter, was irrelevant. “We’re a step away from winning. Not long now.”

“I never doubted you for a moment,” Duke Rosewind smiled as he uttered the most convincing lie a person was capable of. “Any news about my son? He’s not made a fool of himself, I hope?”

“Err… no, not that I know.” Theo tried to remember what had happened with Avid. The last he knew, Avid and Amelia were flying about outside the castle on their griffins. From the avatar’s perspective, a few minutes had passed. For everyone else, it had been hours. “They’re mopping up what’s left of the demon army. Nothing much.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. No chance that I can congratulate him?” The duke pressed on. “I suspect the spell must cost you a lot of mana, but a few words of encouragement from his old dad could go a long way.”

“Err… Maybe when it’s over.”

From his perspective, Theo wanted to end the conversation as quickly as possible so he could have a private chat with Spok. Duke Rosewind, though, saw that as an omen of bad things to follow. All possibilities ranged from bad to worse, with death being a very real option.

“Of course,” he said, retreating to the relative comfort of uncertainty. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“I’ll just be a moment, Cecil.” Spok stood up.

“Take your time, my dear.” The duke glanced at the fight again. “It’s not like anything new is happening.”

Calmly, the spirit guide made her way into the castle.

“Things aren’t going well, are they, sir?” she asked bluntly.

“Never mind that!” Theo snapped. “You’ll be able to survive if I’m not there, right?”

Anytime Theo asked a question, it came with its own bundle of concerns. Now that he had reached rank nine, Spok felt that the matter was beyond concerning.

“For the most part,” she admitted. “I still require a certain amount of magical energy to maintain my avatar. Wasn’t the second mana gem not enough? From what I could tell, you have—”

“That’s not the point,” the dungeon interrupted. “Too many things have gone wrong. Win or lose, once the fight with the Demon Lord is over, I’ll be moving.” Theo paused for a few moments. “There’s no point in taking you along. I’m a fully fledged dungeon now, so I know everything there is about dungeoning.”

Normally, Spok would have countered Theo’s overoptimistic opinion of himself. Instead, she remained silent.

“I’ll convert most of the city to magic,” he went on. “The castle will remain and—”

“Are you saying goodbye, sir?” Spok interrupted.

There were a lot of impossible things in the universe. Theo had already achieved a few, but never was there an impossibility as bittersweet and expected as he was about to achieve. Having a dungeon leave its spirit guide behind was unheard of. Since none of them had ever been granted their own avatar, the whole matter was unimaginable. Yet, in the current sequence of exceptions and strange circumstances, he had every chance of doing just that.

“I didn’t go through all that trouble with your wedding to have you disappear a few months later.” Theo attempted to sound annoyed, but that wasn’t what came through the core pendant. “It’s not like you haven’t already been spending most of your time with Cecil. Half the time you even cast a silence spell on your pendant.”

“Yes, that was so inconsiderate of me, sir.” Spok felt like rolling her eyes.

“The truth of the matter is that it’ll be better for everyone concerned if we part ways… And of course, you get to keep Cmyk with you!”

“Are you sure, sir? He is your first minion…”

“Don’t remind me. Rosewind values him a lot more than I do! I don’t expect he’ll need a lot of magic to maintain.”

“Not compared to the amount you usually waste.” The spirit guide adjusted her glasses.

“Perfect. Just in case, get the duke to give you the remaining mana gems. That way you won’t rely on me for magic.”

“It doesn’t exactly work like that, sir.”

“Ha! Make it work! I have a Mage Tower and a goddess that owes me. If either make a fuss, remind them that they nearly ruined the wedding, the world, any anything else you can think of.”

“Of course, sir.” Spok smiled. “I’ll do that.”

“You can keep Switches and Agonia as well, or let them loose. Goodness knows that I’ve had enough of them.”

“Isn’t there a chance that you might win, sir? It’s not the first time you’ve faced impossible odds.”

“I have no idea. The Demon Lord seems wounded, but doesn’t intend to go down without a fight. Damned demons.” The dungeon grumbled. “Either way, it doesn’t matter. Liandra knows the truth, that means that everyone else will as well.”

Spok nodded.

“And that’s without considering the council of dungeons. The dragon wasn’t sent here just to help me. The moment the Demon Lord is dead, they’ll finish me off. Looking at the dragon, they might try to kill me before it’s over. No, the only way out of this is for me and my avatar to disappear.”

It was impossible not to notice the faint note of regret in the dungeon’s voice. One could hardly blame him; boosting his avatar to a level fifty-five was no small feat. There was also the social element to consider. Although Baron d’Argent wasn’t as revered as Cmyk, feared as Spok, or sought after as Switches, he was a pillar of the city and possibly the kingdom as well. Hundreds of adventurer guilds acknowledged him, as did the mage society and even the hero guild.

“I’ll make sure you receive a hero’s funeral, sir. With your very own statue.”

“Better distance yourself from me. The heroes will be pissed.”

“I could hold my own in a fight, sir. Besides, Cecil will make sure it doesn’t come to that. Admitting that the entire country’s nobles attended the wedding of a spirit guide would be too big of a scandal for people to admit to.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say,” Theo started the process of ending the conversation. “Oh, and before you get back to the duke, please cast a silence spell on your pendant. I don’t want anything to slip by accident.”

“Yes.” The spirit guide turned around, yet didn’t make a single step. “Where will you go, sir?”

“Anywhere where there aren’t people,” the dungeon said without hesitation. “Well, there might be a few people. I’ve always wanted to see the sea,” he lied. “Maybe I’ll find some boring fishing village or an abandoned island. It depends on how far the spell takes me.”

“Good luck, sir. And thank you.”

The spirit guide waited for several seconds, but no response came. This was the end of the conversation. Everything that had to be said had been said. Spok’s natural instinct urged her whether he had memorized the appropriate spells and remembered to save a bit of reserves for after he vanished. The woman she had become ignored that urge. He was his own dungeon now, just as she was her own person—a duchess, to be exact.

Coating her pendant with a silence spell, the spirit guide then went back outside, joining her husband.

“Anything I should be concerned about?” the duke glanced over his shoulder, despite Spok being sure that she hadn’t made a single sound while approaching.

“The baron needed a consultation regarding some magic.” Spok took her seat. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Leave it to the old boy to do something no one else could think of,” Duke Rosewind let out a chuckle. “Just tell me this: how grand will it be?”

“How grand…” Spok thought about it. “Who knows?” She looked back at her husband with a faint smile. “I have a feeling he’ll outdo himself as usual.”

Meanwhile, all that remained of the Demon Lord’s castle was a rugged clump of cliffs over a pool of fire. All the corruption that had seeped into it, forming the demonic layer, had been sucked out into its master, granting him new power. Even so, that wasn’t nearly enough to counter the divine rapier. The Everessence’s weapon stubbornly remained stuck in the creature’s body, still spewing sacred flames, despite all attempts to pull it out.

Demons, alive and dead, also found themselves briskly pulled away, their flesh serving to fuel the Demon Lord. Even the blackness of the land itself trickled in his direction. And that was not all. The demonic ability had also distorted Theo’s time magic. The chrono spell, already near its end, had faded away, gradually equalizing time within its sphere of influence and the rest of the world. Heroes and griffin riders—now plainly visible from Theo’s position—continued to focus their attacks on a much-weakened demonic dragon. Judging by the number of weapons sticking out of it, the monster was only kept alive by the minion-bond between it and the Demon Lord.

How does it feel to have your energy sapped away? Theo thought.

“Prince Thomas,” he said through his avatar. “Do you have any ultra skills left?”

The royal gave the avatar a confused look.

“It’s me, Baron, d’Argent,” the avatar quickly said. “Lord Max is taking a break, preparing for the final battle.”

Normally, such an explanation wouldn’t have fooled a five-year-old. Adrenaline, exhaustion, and the baron’s unorthodox use of magic, however, had made it so much more plausible.

“Two,” the prince replied. “But they’re slow. Master Maximillian said that—”

“That was before. Start preparing. We’ll attack him with everything we got.”

A short distance away, where a chamber wall used to be, Theo saw Liandra. The heroine remained in a weakened condition, though much better than before with the Everessence healing her. Once this was over, Theo had no doubt that she’d get promoted in the hero ranks, just as he was certain she’d get back to chasing him.

What idiotic plan have you come up with? Max the ghost asked.

You also have an ultimate skill, right? The dungeon asked. Maybe something even more powerful?

Ultimate skills are called ultimate because there’s nothing more powerful.

That’s not true. Theo sounded a lot more confident. There are ultra skills. So, do you have an ultra ultimate?

Never in a hundred years did Maximillian expect to be asked such a question, least of all from a dungeon such as Theo. The mere notion was borderline absurd. A hero’s ultimate skills were the most powerful abilities there were. To think that any of them could be supercharged was similar to suggesting that mere mortals could attain the power of deities. And yet, with enough age, experience, and victories, nothing was impossible.

Yes, the ghost admitted. One.

What does it do?

It’s a sacrifice attack that incinerates evil in a ball of sacred light. It was enough to destroy an archdemon, but I’ve never used it on a Demon Lord.

Well, now’s your chance. He won’t get any weaker than this.

I don’t think you heard, Max stressed. It’ll incinerate all evil. The power will be so intense that I’m not sure your avatar will survive long enough for me to fully cast it. You won’t just lose a hand or finger after this. Once it’s done, you’re done, and likely me along with you.

That didn’t sound particularly good. Even so, the avatar was always expendable.

How exactly does it work? Theo asked.

Do I look like a philosopher?! The ghost of the hero snapped back. It’s an enveloping spell. I concentrate its power through my sword, and it releases the ball of light.

So, it starts from the arms. I can work with that.

It starts from the chest. Max corrected. The heart, to be specific. A hero’s heart, always strong and pure.

Apparently, the line mentioned in old poems wasn’t merely metaphor. If the old ghost was to be believed, Theo would have the upper torso of his avatar completely incinerated. Yet, there also seemed to be a loophole. The rest of his body wasn’t going to get consumed right away. That means that he could create a portal, transport his head away before it ceased to exist. It was a greedy thing to do, but Theo wasn’t one willing to sacrifice everything unless he had to. As long as the head of his avatar remained, he could regrow it at a later point and keep his current levels. It was a gamble, though not something that would destroy him. Head or no head, he’d still have enough energy to flee with his main body.

Go for it, the dungeon said.

It was time to roll the dice.

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