There is no Epic Loot here, Only Puns. - Interlude: Spoiled for Choice
It was almost too much for Serma.
Escorted to the giant building shaped like a colosseum with a red domed roof made from some exotic metal. She watched as the streets were cleared ahead by Zane as he simply kept a sedate pace. People moved when a Royal Knight walked.
They were sworn to protect the Royal Family. Their kindness need not extend to the public. Serma knew they couldn’t kill but she reminded herself that people who returned from the abyss of the Royal Dungeon had more than simple power under their belts. Even Zane.
Especially Zane…
Keeping her eyes up, Serma watched as the small shops and twisty side streets passed by. Serma tried to be positive. No matter how her father and mother blustered or demanded solutions. The Dungeon’s words were clear. Serma was to reach the 10th floor with Bronze star adventurers. Rank three at best…
Orders to slip Royal Knights in as disguised warriors were shot down as well by the head Priest.
The Dungeon would be watching for refinement. Serma looked skyward as her lessons came back as words. Being the Princess of the Capital meant her education was important… as a benefit and a requirement.
“Mana refinement” was the term used by the world at large to refer to someone whose Mana became potent and strong by constantly using or training their combat, magic and/or rare skills in Dungeon space.
She adjusted her braid slightly as she avoided the public’s staring gaze.
Serma had insisted on walking… to get into the spirit of things. She kind of regretted it now, having the three Royal Knights making an awkward blank space between her and the people of her kingdom.
Sure, assassins would always be waiting but… Serma just felt like a exotic creature to be stared at now.
She was close to the Guild building, so she kept her eyes averted.
It was almost impossible to fake untested or raw unrefined Mana that was unrefined. The best tactic was to simply not use Mana around people… but the Dungeon would know. It was a God unto its own realm and trying to trick it… was unwise.
A new Dungeon or a common one may be somewhat confused or even manipulated but one as old as her Kingdom’s? It was asking for Serma’s name to be stricken from the books of history if the Dungeon caused a calamity.
Serma was sure that even if her Father managed to negotiate a proper contract with Fairplay and used his own army… The Royal Dungeon would not be so easily held to its current form. It’s awareness had evolved into bored intelligence.
If it were to be pushed to a breaking point by the Kingdom holding it’s floors hostage…
Serma felt her heart go cold at the thought.
The idea of the Level hundred boss monster breaking out and-
“Breathe,” Brilda urged quietly. Her features, so often accused of being cut from beautiful stone, watched her for a moment.
“We shall not leave you in the hands of louts or thugs,” she promised and the slight tapping of her spear on the ground made the chill retreat from Serma’s chest.
“Thank you,” she smiled back. Brilda merely nodded, the slight tone change of the tapping spear letting Serma know the woman was pleased.
Brilda did not open to people nor explain herself.
Serma had learned to understand Brilda the way one learns to predict storms on the sea or the change on mountains. With great patience and fear… then love. If there was one Royal Knight that Serma would say fit the title, it was her guardian since childhood, Brilda.
That wasn’t to say Gionha, or even Lieria was a slouch… but Brilda had such grace she hadn’t seen since the only other Royal Knight that read her a bedtime story. Serma felt a twinge of pain as she thought of Wei-
She broke out of her thoughts as the doors were loudly pushed open by Zane. His appearance silencing the chaotic cheerful noise coming from within. Serma pressed her hands tight against her waist. Her royal white dress and adorning gold tiara was only offset by the out of place green bead bracelet on her arm.
Her good luck charm. Serma felt she would truly need it today.
The guild hall’s main entrance was a large, wooden, double door affair that was more of that cheerful red. Above the door was a sign, as if it were imitating the many Dungeon’s the patrons inside would have visited.
The Place
It was cocky when they named the place all those years ago, her Father had mused once, but now? Everyone knew what each other meant when they said they were going to the usual place or the place to be.
It was annoyingly relevant in the city. She walked in with Brilda at her side. It was hard to disguise how Serma craned her neck in wide sweeps, trying to take it all in like she was one of those tourist folks that wandered into the city.
It was almost like the ghost of her mother’s hand on her back was real as Serma corrected her posture and retained her regal pleasant-but-distant expression.
The inside of the building, the main hall from what Serma could see, followed more of the red and gold theme the building promised from the outside. Serma actually felt like the place was a bit… too much. Ironic coming from a princess who ate with gold and walked on gems but Serma felt it odd that a gathering place of rough and tough thrill seekers was more akin… to a hotel entrance.
A large section of the room was dedicated to a open fireplace, sofas, chairs, stools, and a bar near the corner. The prices, Serma noticed, were far higher than the local businesses’. As someone who was forced to study the economics of imported grapes, barrels, ale, and peanuts for two weeks until she could recite it backwards, Serma knew the alcohol they served here was both overpriced and weird.
The common drinks were a thief in a bottle but there were drinks Serma had never heard of…
Devil’s bum… Liquid Courage and Wisdom… Ferlio’s brew… Dragon spit.
Did this place have… an alchemist? A Spirit alchemist?
Not to be confused with a necromancer who became an alcoholic but an actual master of the wines and spirits of the world? Serma had heard the things they made were so delicious and powerful that one sip of the right brew could make a mouse into a hero.
Serma blinked then smiled slowly to herself.
A mouse hero! That would be slightly delightful and adorable. Serma doubted this place had one but she couldn’t help check the bar for a tiny mouse door that would lead to some secret league of mice with swords and staffs.
It would be called the League of Little Heroes!
Serma was almost washed away into the lands of fantasy as she imagined them riding frogs or rabbits before Brilda cleared her throat and guided her towards the stairs and, once on the second floor, to a door that was guarded by two men in armour that gave off… adequate power.
Serma felt sort of bad, growing up around Royal Knights had dulled her respect for levels of Mana Refinement that didn’t make one fear for one’s life. Inside the room were many nice sofas, and a window that had a wonderful view of her fair city.
Verluan, how Serma had only ever seen it’s best features. Now, even from this guest room, Serma spotted cracks… nooks… people walking around in clothes that didn’t cost the same as a small field.
It was refreshing… and a little scary.
“Me and the Spear witch will go talk to the Guild Master, see which sorry wretch we can find in this place that won’t get you killed,” Zane announced. Serma blinked and eyed the room that was clearly for… waiting.
“Yup, stay and don’t die. Lorsa will be doing whatever Lorsa does,” Zane added dryly. Serma turned to see the empty room suddenly filled by the third Royal Knight of her entourage. Lorsa, the person in such a heavy cloak that all details were guesses at best.
Lorsa had not been in the room a moment ago and Serma was talking to Zane who blocked the only door in and out.
“Doing what I do best,” Lorsa agreed. Serma tried to at least look politely assured to have a guard but she might have failed.
Lorsa was in the group of Knights that Serma had dubbed the ‘Weird’ ones. Really, the Royal Knights only had three sub-groups to understand. The straight-forward scary ones. Brilda and Zane would belong to this. The Weird ones that enjoyed freaking people out and had abilities not fit for a public spar… then there were the ones that were off.
Nothing quite looked wrong nor did anything stand out but being near one of those Knights made good people and creatures flee and the light dim… just a little.
These were the ones her father had on a very short leash or as far away as possible.
All for the best, Serma thought. Lorsa was hardly the worst. Brilda carefully reached out and brushed Serma’s single loose lock of hair back behind her ear.
“We won’t be long,” Zane reminded and walked off, Brilda at his heels, more to make sure he didn’t divert to the bar than following in line.
The door closed and Serma turned to speak to Lorsa, but the cloaked figure was gone. Vanished as fast they appeared.
“Oh, I do not like that,” she warned the empty room… maybe empty?
Lorsa was a weirdo but at least they didn’t act like a creep or scare her by appearing out of nowhere. It just made her uneasy to be unsure whether she reallywas alone or not. That feeling was quickly overtaken by annoyance as she sat with proper posture on the plush sofa, facing a fire that had more Fire stones in it than strictly needed.
This was Serma’s task! Should she not be there at the table, viewing her potential warriors with her own eyes? Was she expected to walk into danger with strangers?
Serma watched the fire burn without tinder in the stone fireplace.
“Yes… yes you are. The best of the best that are available will be chosen and I will accept them with grace. This is about more than yourself,” she reminded herself sharply. She sat straight and placed her hands into her lap, her only breaking of proper appearance was a single finger fidgeting the green bracelet.
If she failed then the Dungeon would enforce the punishment it had warned about. The Prince of the Dungeon’s warning words not to be trifled with. Serma swallowed hard and nodded.
Serma’s desires would not dare come at such risk to the City. She would sit here and let others handle her life… as always.
Serma blinked up slowly at a sudden tapping noise.
She stared at the door for a long moment. That didn’t sound like it had come from the doo-
Serma froze, there it was again! A firm tapping noise growing frantic. It sounded like the noise at so many royal balls.
Glass being smacked against something. Usually other glass…
Serma spun to see a hand banging at the second-floor window. Staring in surprise, the sudden tapping pushed the window open and the knocker pulled himself into the room.
“Ow ow ow! My fingers feel like they got caught in Aunty Hop’s cookie jar again!” a young boy complained as he fanned his fingers, which indeed looked very red from… Serma could only guess hanging on to her window ledge!
Serna should call for guards or scream or develop some sudden hidden royal magic to blast this intruder to ash but honestly, Serma was just too shocked at the sudden appearance to do more than stare.
Her Father would sigh as his various sword lessons went to waste and her mother would join him at Serma’s rudeness. The boy was younger than her, or at least very small for his age. His black hair was pulled back in a ponytail that brushed his lower back. Unlike Serma’s own braid, so tightly made and decorated, this boy’s hair looked more like a contained wild animal. He kept blowing on his fingers which allowed Serma to fully take in the rest of him,
He was an odd-looking thing with slightly-too-blue big trousers tied tight with a black belt, a torn white shirt that looked far overdue to be burned, and he had what appeared to be a book hanging off his belt like a handy tool by a piece of thread. Then there was the sword on his back that Serma saw as the boy turned to survey the room.
It was a horrid, chipped, dirty grey blade.
But…
It had been used well. Serma’s weapon master’s words whispered in her ear in memory that the reinforced handle, the way the blade looked less damaged by ill-care and more by long time use fending off deadly blows.
“Are you the Guild Master?” the boy said, snapping Serma out of her stupor. The question was both unexpected and bizarre.
What sort of logic would one have to assume that a girl in a dress, a crown, and sitting in some waiting room would be the Guild Master? Her frustration leaked just a little at having her moody thinking interrupted by some boy!.
“Yes, clearly I am. What gave it away?” she snapped. The boy sighed with relief.
“Right room after all! Told Xan she was wrong. My name is Mas, I wanna be a hero!” he announced. He thrust a hand out and years of inbuilt instincts took over. She neatly shook the hand and smiled as if the other person was some important diplomat from some country she couldn’t pronounce.
“What?” she replied, still wearing her best fake smile. Mas beamed.
“I wanna join up with the Guild and take on the Dungeon! I tried to apply downstairs but I was rejected! So I thought I come straight to the head honcho and deal with you! I’m so glad you’re nice and much prettier than the bat behind the desk,” Mas said in a ‘just-between-us’ whisper as if the ‘bat’ downstairs had the hearing of one rather than just the looks.
“I think you have the wrong-” Serma tried to explain, seeing now that sarcasm had done what her Mother had always warned it would.
Get her in trouble.
“So, what do I need to do? Beat goblins up? Wrestle a dragon? Rescue a princess?” Mas demanded, eyes glinting so brightly that it was slightly adorable in it’s own way. Serma also took offence to that last one until she remembered she was sitting in a Guild building waiting on her protectors building her a defence to save her from Dungeon dangers…
“Maybe you could help a princess rather than simply assume she is useless and needs a man,” she replied hotly. Mas shrugged.
“If you know one that needs help. I’ll help! My hero book said they always need rescuing so I just assumed they were off being cool anyway and just ran into trouble,” the boy scratched at his nose. Serma stared at him and raised one brow.
“You clearly don’t know what Princesses’ daily schedules are. Adventure and excitement are clearly on the ‘never happening’ day,” she sat down, not feeling like she had a lot to worry about from the boy now.
An energetic lad – but in the end… just someone looking for a fantasy.
“I don’t know any Princesses! But if you know any, can you let them know that Mas is here to sav- er- offer them a hand!” he placed his hands on his hips making the tattered book shake slightly.
Despite her hollow mood, she couldn’t help the small smile.
“Noted, I will pass the note on to any Princesses. Why were you rejected?” she suddenly asked, which made Mas huff.
“You need a recommedata thing and money!” he said, looking unimpressed.
“‘Recommendation’, you mean? I suppose that’s not too bad but a fee isn’t unreasonable. They do give you a Guild Seal in return, those things do take money to make,” she pointed out.
“Yeah but what if don’t have a rec…rec… someone’s word and I don’t have money?” he fired back. Serma blinked. Not have… money. Right. That happens to people and Serma now felt like a stupid royal brat that had zero understanding of the world.
“If you show off your skills with a few unpaid kills or work around town, that can also be a form of a recommendation. If you keep it up, the Guild would see you as an asset and waive the application fee,” she explained kindly. Mas waved his hands as he dropped onto the sofa next to her, slouching so much that Serma felt the lessons of her Mother die of shock.
“I brought them wolf fangs, snake skins, even a few goblin things but they just said I shouldn’t lie and took the stuff away as dangerous. I even did tasks and wrote down the people I helped but… they don’t wanna check… waste of time the bat said,” Mas grumbled.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
That… was…
“They stole your items?” Serma focused on the first thing wrong. Mas sat up, nodding furiously.
“They wanted my sword but said it was gonna break anyway! I worked hard and no one cares. So I came to you because I hoped not everyone who was an adventurer… a hero… could be bad,” he trailed off and for the first time since Mas appeared, his bright spirit dipped.
“They’re not. Heroes are real but what they did is wrong. Mas… I’m not the Guild Master, I apologise but I was just being sarcastic due to my bad mood!” she dipped her head in apology. There was a beat of silence.
“Ohh… that makes sense I guess. Your office looked way too boring,” Mas agreed before he blinked at Serma.
“So… who are you?” he asked, leaning in closer than Serma usually experience people being.
“I’m Prin…” she cut herself off for a second before she smiled.
“Serma, a pleasure,” she held out a dainty hand as her blood demanded. Instead of the practise kiss on the back of her palm, Mas shook it hard again.
“Serma! That’s a sweet name. Sorry for busting in here and all but if you’re here you must wanna be a hero too!” he stated, the boy’s brain making truly impressive leaps in logic.
Serma was about to correct him but… wasn’t it the fact she was angry that she wasn’t being allowed to truly experience the Dungeon the whole reason she was here?
“Sort of,” she ended up saying. Mas looked annoyed.
“Must have turned you down too! Did they take your weapon?!” he stood, actually looking her over for the first time.
“You just noticed what I have on my person?” Serma had to ask blankly. Mas grinned.
“I was too busy staring at your face. It’s nice!” he said, crossing his arms with the confidence only a boy could have.
What royal etiquette covered this? Laugh fakely at the compliment? No, Serma actually did feel something at the compliment. Deny it with grace? She wasn’t sure Mas would understand the social gameplay of the false denial…
Declare war on his nation?
Wouldn’t that just be civil war?
Call for his head? But then he couldn’t keep speaking to her like a person, which Serma really enjoyed!
She was trapped between royal secretive smile and utter indifference.
Her baffled mind went for both and she ended up smiling with her wide eyes. The look was not to be painted anytime soon but Mas laughed cheerfully as he pulled her up, her horrified mind making sure she put up no resistance.
“Let’s go find the Guild Master or show off our skills and get registered! Then we can team up with my friend Xan then we can take on the Dungeon and I can marry a princess!” Mas explained very quickly.
“Marry a what?!” Serma’s mouth yelped before her mind could wrestle control back. Mas’ strong grip had her out the door before long and while Serma did protest, she also felt… better.
She gathered herself as the ‘bat’ of a receptionist gaped as Mas dragged the Royal princess towards her. The woman was pretty but the eyes held a gleam of something that irked Serma.
Perhaps it was high time she finally used all this Princess influence for something.
Chewing a thief out in a highly respectable place would be simple; a fine place to begin. But she had to make sure to do it such a way that Mas didn’t… learn of her status. How he didn’t know with the crown, the white gown and the VIP room, she had no idea but she was actually having a good time for once since her Birthday!
—
Upstairs, Lorsa put their cup of tea of the table in front of the sofa where Princess Serma and the boy had been sitting moments before. The cloak dropped to reveal shocking white hair that hid a smiling face.
“Ah youth. To be young again,” Lorsa toasted with empty hands. The Princess was safe. There was nowhere she would go that Lorsa could not be in less than a second. Even then, Lorsa’s watchful eye had claws and hid well.
The boy was just funny, and his ability to pull the Princess out of her slump was cute. Now Lorsa just had to keep delaying the Guild Master down the street from the Guild Hall another… oh… forty minutes until the Princess and the Boy would pass the little test…
Lorsa was a big fan of pushing the chicks out of the nest. Too often, snakes devoured the scared chicks that dared not fly.
The tea was drunk in an instant and Lorsa was gone before the cup landed back on the table.
—
It was no surprise that Mas now had a decent recommendation, a quick word had also seen to it that his items returned before long.
Mas was in awe of Serma’s apparent ability to make people do what she wanted.
“Are you some sort of Puppet Mage or are you using some scary fear power?” he inquired. Serma rolled her eyes as they were lead to the small off-hall testing room.
“It’s called manners and firmness,” she responded. The pale receptionist gestured to a row of seats where a few other men and women sat, waiting.
“P-please wait for your names,” she stuttered. Mas waved at her with a winning grin.
“That’s right, you’ll hear the name Mas and Serma, the dynamic duo!” he bragged. The woman looked to Serma with fear and alarm. She merely shook her head and walked to the seat.
Only once she was resting on the hard wooden chair, almost a stool really… did she consider what she was doing. Brilda was going to glare at her… Zane wouldn’t care unless Serma really turned out to be a pain to find. Then he’d be annoyed, and that was bad for all involved.
Lorsa would do… something.
But why was she taking the test to become a bronze star adventurer?!
“I’m so excited! You’re going to do awesome, Serma. Believe in yourself. Even if you don’t pass, you can join my guild!” he promised kindly. Serma took comfort in that. If her Mother found out she had escaped her guard and went in public without even a disguise… she might need somewhere to run and hide.
The nervous people around them merely watched as some no-named casually called Serma by her first name, they seemed to inch away from him as if Serma would set him on fire any second.
But soon enough, names of groups were called, and sometimes just single names. Serma had agreed to be on Mas’ shared application. Something groups could do, if their strength was more in-line of teamwork like Priests or mages.
To be honest, this was good! Serma was actually getting to see the process in action and if worse came to worst… one of these people could be in her group to reach the tenth floor. Seeing who came out with defeat and who came out with smirks said a lot.
The test took place on the other side of a simple door and soon enough a plain man called out calmly as if he truly had heard and seen it all…
“Mas and Serma of ‘Ultra-Dragon-Exploders’?”
The hall was too quiet other than Serma’s slowly turning neck as she stared at the already striding Mas.
“Wow…” another testee said bluntly. Not even three hundred years of noble blood could keep Serma’s chin high and proud.
“I should have expected nothing less,” she admitted to herself as they walked into the room. The plain man with short hair and dull eyes walked over and stood at the centre of an empty room.
“You have three minutes to land an attack on me,” he stated. Serma had to remind herself that Bronze rank 1 was basically ‘had used a weapon once’. It was not weird for such a basic test. The man hadn’t looked scratched that much so Serma did wonder how the others passed.
Still, the faster this was over, the better, hopefully before Serma was found by an irate Royal Knight…
The only downside was that Serma lacked a blade, her preferred weapon. Mas’ body was almost vibrating with anticipation.
“Remember, he is trained,” she gave him a warning. Mas’s answer was brief.
“As long as you got my back, we can do this!” he promised. The enthusiasm was nice. Serma would have to extract it and bottle it to cure the world of depression. Could there be another such cheerful boy in this land?
Without a blade, she only had one thing… a single spell she had been able to master.
“I can take a hit, so use me a shield,” she promised. She half expected an argument or some sort of knightly refusal but Mas, as Serma was quickly growing to like, only grew excited.
“Got it! Side by side then!” he charged and Serma followed as she hiked up her dress. How this instructor felt facing a boy waving a sword as big as himself, yelling his head off, and a Princess running in heels and a dress with a determined expression, Serma had no clue.
The only thing to complete this group would be some tall hulking man swinging a huge weapon, he’d have to have blond or red firey hair to complete the look. Focusing, Serma watched as Mas’ first swing was fast and the man actually kicked off the ground with a surprised look. He struck a leg out, but Serma put her training into action, standing in front of Mas as she cast her spell.
Really… it wasn’t… exactly a combat spell to be honest. Really, it was a cosmetic spell that Serma had utterly butchered. Her clothes became wrinkle free as the magic smoothed the creases and wiped dirt from her clothes.
Serma’s magic struggled before it did what it always did with this spell. It doubled back and the fabrics became thrice as durable, the white dress now being able to deflect a weak dagger, something she learned in an assassination attempt one time. The leg bounced off as the man recoiled in shock.
Serma followed it up with a swift kick and the man toppled over with a gasp.
“Woah! Serma, you won the fight for us!” Mas praised. The bonus of the spell she used meant that Serma didn’t have to worry about looking haggard or roughed up. A blessing really.
“A spar, nothing else. He clearly was going easy on us and didn’t use a weapon,” she dismissed but her smile made Mas grin harder.
“You pass… you can tell the receptionist… that Bart gives the aye,” the man wheezed. Serma was about to help him up but Mas was already running out the room with her.
“I’m sorry!” she called, needing to say something before becoming rude.
Inside, she felt… happy. Serma had to parse this feeling. She was pleased about passing some test? How silly was that?
“We’re going to beat trolls up, and rescue lords, and discover the city of gold, and ride dragons or dragon people!” Mas listed with such joy.
Pretty silly but Serma started to pick up the pace and run with Mas towards the receptionist desk. The awaiting trio of her Royal guards and a man Serma knew to be the Guild Master almost put a damper on her cheer but not quite.
In front of Zane and Brilda were two very… odd people. The one glaring at Mas was a stout woman who had to be a dwarf. Her skin was ashen grey like stone, showing some power or influence. Her hair was hidden under a well dented helmet. Her armour had a familiar symbol stamped on it. A mountain with golden veins flowing through it, Serma could only barely remembered it belonged to some Deity of the Earth.
Her giant book bound with iron had the same symbol. A priestess of some kind.
“You daft son of a bucket! I told you not to do anything rash, and you go and bloody kidnap the Princess?!” she demanded. Her voice was as soft as a thorny bush. Mas shrank under the woman’s glare but he held out his hand to her, still holding Serma’s.
“Team Ultra-Dragon-Exploders won the test! We’re Bronzers!” he beamed then paused. He seemed to actually hear her words before he turned to Serma.
“She thinks you’re a princess. You get mistaken for a lot of things, don’t you?” he mused.
A shadow fell over them as Brilda glared hotly at the held hands.
“Woah… she looks angry!” Mas whispered.
Serma let go before her guard killed her friend.
“If this is not the best time, perhaps we should adjust the numbers until a better one comes along?” came a smooth voice that sniffed after speaking. Serma peered around Brilda and her brain shut down as a giant white furred mouse man stood there wearing a royal blue coat, fine grey trousers, some well-used wraps around his clawed feet. On his face was huge thick bottle-glasses that expanded his little beady eyes to large volumes.
“Xan! Xan! It’s a mouse,” Mas pointed out with a smile. The man glared at Mas.
“I am clearly a Rattis, do notice the strong tail and fine fur,” he retorted, he withdrew an almost ruler-like wand and gestured to his tail in example.
“Mousekin have on average 4-inches smaller tail with less muscle mass by a factor of up to 10%!” he began to lecture. Serma’s mind tried to fall into her default good-student-mode but it wasn’t quite working.
She stared at the group before her that her Knights had assembled.
The Dwarf priestess of stone, her own personal choice of Mas the sword-user… and a Mouse Hero!
“Ah Princess Serma, a pleasure,” the hero in question bowed with elegance.
“I thought she was a Guild Master, so you might wanna double check she is a Princess, just a tip,” Mas nodded wisely before Xan picked him up by the ear.
“One more word and I’ll have you so black and blue that a sea troll would look healthy in comparison!” she growled.
“Princess, you wanna tell your father you’re a bonafide bronzer or do we make some poor servant do it?” Zane yawned. The words were enough to drag Serma’s gaze away from the Rattis-
“Sir Denomin!” the Rattis said as she turned.
Her confusion must have been evident because Zane laughed a dark chuckle.
“You think the Royal family is going to accept the dishonour of one of their own merely being a Bronzer? Think again, kiddo,” he said and Serma remembered that she was indeed a Princess of the Royal Family.
One who was expected to be in the top tier of… anything… they pursued.
“Team Ultra-Dragon-Exploders are going for the top! Serma isn’t afraid of anything!” Mas promised from behind Xan’s hand. Zane looked amused but the weirdest thing came from Lorsa.
“Too cute… I am going to enjoy this,” they announced to the room. Xan looked nervous as Denomin twitched his adorable whiskers in some attempt to sense danger.
Serma eyed the bronze badge that was passed to her a minute later.
Her reflection was smiling.
How… weird.
She had no idea what had caused these series of events but she gave a small, silent prayer of gratitude. This was the best day she had ever had…
—
Many… many, miles away, Delta paused as she watched the web room fix itself.
“Hm? Did you say something Nu?” she asked and the text box gave her a long flat ding.
That joke was funny about the first 500 times. Hurry up, The option just opened up and I want to see what the requirements are!
Delta rolled her eyes but she could get why he was excited.
It was the Third floor after all…
Delta would have to make sure the second floor was ready but she felt a tremble of buzzing excitement. That was when her menus vanished again and Delta spun to see the weirdest thing from the outside world yet. Kemy, the innocent girl from before, fell down her stairs with a blindfold on.
“Oh, mighty Goddess of Truth… guide me!” she yelled, then stumbled forward, arms stuck out in panic.
The spiders all paused in their webbing and gave Delta the Royal ‘We pity you’ dance. She took it for the intended message but what made it all worse than the only Monster available capable of speech besides Maestro who did short musical bursts… was… Cois.
The rest were busy and Fera would not leave her post.
Mushy had gone to the second floor to show off his new power to the Pygmies, Hob and Gob were out gathering and Billy and Numb were blackout drunk under a tavern table… Delta felt a headache coming already as she called for Cois. What kind of person wandered into a Dungeon blind? Well, besides Delta but she didn’t have a choice!
Ignoring the feeling of dread, Delta put on a winning smile and was sure she’d get this sorted out in a few minutes.
Before Kemy fell down some hole Delta didn’t know she had or something.
It would be just Delta’s luck.
—
