In the Land of Leadale - Volume 6 - Chapter SS1

Bonus Short Story 1 - The Dungeon Master's Assistant

There is a dungeon village on the eastern edge of Otaloquess, although it did not always exist. The place was once a typical forest, and it is said a group of adventurers discovered the dungeon about a century prior when they became lost while gathering medicinal herbs. The dungeon looked like a normal cave at first, so the adventurers decided to set up a makeshift camp.

However, once they ventured inside and saw the man-made paths and glittering gold walls, they were overjoyed by their incredible discovery. The adventurers initially planned to keep the dungeon a secret among themselves, but they raced for the exit when strange and terrifying monsters began to appear. They lost half their party by the time help arrived. Meanwhile, word of the dungeon reached the Adventurers Guild. The guild was skeptical at first, but when a dispatched search team found the dungeon in question, they were determined to conquer it.

Nonetheless, the monsters within were far stronger than expected, and many adventurers never made it past the first floor. It is said between one hundred and two hundred lives were lost during that time. We wish to pay our respects to the fallen taken from us too soon. If you wish to pray for their eternal rest and offer a moment of silence, there is a monument inscribed with their names on the training grounds behind the Adventurers Guild in the dungeon village.

Well then, a glimmer of victory came when a certain adventurer party discovered a gimmick among the monsters. They determined that the dungeon enemies were spawning from murals in the walls and proved the horrifying fiends disappeared once these murals were destroyed.

It would be misleading to say the events that followed were smooth sailing, but progress was steady compared to the adventurers’ earlier struggles. Whenever new foes appeared on the next floor, they destroyed the monsters depicted on the murals and eliminated the threat.

Simultaneously, many have been astonished by the array of magical items salvaged from the dungeon. Fire-spitting swords made by command words. Rings that increase one’s strength and magic. Armor that allows the wearer to move underwater, etc. Of course, a variety of other magical apparatuses have been discovered as well, but the talking sword is especially famous. Found in a treasure box on the second floor long after countless lives had already been lost, it can clearly communicate in human speech.

That sword, known as History’s Most Intelligent Weapon, supposedly chooses its master. However, no one has yet been able to wield it. The Intelligent Weapon is currently in the Adventurers Guild’s custody, and you may meet the Intelligent Sword if you achieve enough success to be recognized by the Guild Master. We hope all adventurers will strive to apply themselves, obtain the sword, and shine before the masses.

—Otaloquess Adventurers Guild PR Department

“What is that?”

“A pamphlet they had on the counter at the Adventurers Guild.”

Opus glanced up from the promotional material he’d been reading to kill time and handed it to Siren. She skimmed over the sparse pages and threw it back at him brusquely.

“Oh dear. Honestly, you’re too much. Are others now subject to that poor attitude as well?”

“I feel nothing toward a worthless piece of paper.”

“What a tongue you have…”

Siren’s scathing response made Opus pity even the pamphlet, and he gave a wry smile. Even so, the ostentatious treatment bestowed upon the Intelligence Sword found in a treasure box on the dungeon’s second floor was indeed sad.

The sword talked big, but it was a worthless item with zero attributes. As a magic tool, it was bottom of the barrel. Even an F-minus rank was too generous. Back in the game, the weapon was also known as Forever Alone. Adventurers became so obsessed with the fact that the sword could talk that they didn’t stop to consider whether that was a good thing. You couldn’t help but snicker at those tricked by a sword who soon discovered they were stuck listening to its plausible claims.

“Is it all right to ignore such recklessness?”

“…‘Recklessness’?”

“I mean the adventurers breaking the Summon Planks.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. They’ll eventually realize they’re only tightening the noose around their own necks with every broken mural.”

To obtain any items not already in a treasure chest, you had to defeat monsters. However, breaking the Summon Planks meant permanently ruining your chances of getting loot. In the game, the dungeon was originally created to tease new players, so the drop items all had questionable effects. Now that the game world was gone, and the average level of adventurers had taken a nosedive, these dicey items were treated like gold. Considering the outrageous prices they were selling for, the only real gold here was comedic.

Even though the treasure den (the room where future dropped items were stored) consistently released items from defeated monsters, it remained well stocked over the years. More than once, Opus took items from here and sold them to the Adventurers Guild. He changed his appearance and name, of course. His disguise of choice was a plain, forty-something-year-old man one might see anywhere. This made him an easy target, and when he first started dropping by the guild to sell magical wares, some ten-odd adventurers would always start trouble with him.

Some would even take him down a back alley and try to “blackmail” him (aka beat him senseless) but Opus the Harmless Old Timer always bested his foes. He’d either take them out in a single punch or blow the hooligans sky-high with magic. The real challenge was making sure he didn’t kill anyone, but Opus kept his attacks nonlethal and pummeled the adventurers so bad even their hearts were KO’d. Before long, the middle-aged peddler of magical oddities became synonymous with terror, and the demon earned the adventurers’ respect.

“Are you bored now that no one challenges me anymore?”

“I’m relieved there are less people foolish enough to challenge you, Master. Still, if I may be so bold, I do wish you wouldn’t ingratiate yourself to others in that disguise. It makes my skin crawl every time…”

At one point or another, Siren had accompanied Opus on an errand to the surface and was appalled to see him keeping a low profile and humbly bowing to others. The shock was so great, her mind had gone blank for several seconds.

Opus watched Siren rub her arms and tremble. He suddenly felt less confident about his acting abilities.

“At any rate, I suppose they aren’t coming,” Siren continued as she looked up at the ceiling from the bottommost floor.

“I suppose not,” Opus replied with a puzzled tilt of the head

“You did pass ‘it’ to her, correct?”

“Yeah. I know she made contact with my tower’s Guardian. Shouldn’t be too long before she gets wind of this place.”

“Still, two months have passed…”

The two were living deep underground for the sake of Opus’s scheme/hobby. His companion Siren found the situation intolerable, but as her master’s creation, she sadly didn’t have the right to argue.

But no matter how long the two waited, their expected visitor never arrived. Once the “goods” were handed over, Opus had estimated that she’d come crashing into his dungeon ten days at the earliest.

Twenty days passed, then forty. As sixty days approached, it became apparent something had been lost in translation.

“Perhaps she hasn’t realized your intentions?”

“………”

Now that Siren mentioned it, their visitor wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. She might be right.

“Or perhaps she stowed the book in her Item Box and had already forgotten about it.”

“………”

This, too, was plausible, and a large sweat drop formed over Opus’s brow. His visitor likely told herself she’d read the book later and soon forgot about it. It was likely collecting dust in her Item Box.

“I don’t believe this to be the case, but she may have also rejected the item because she realized it was from you.”

“………”

As soon as Siren pointed out this most unlikely scenario, Opus began to sweat even more. The chance of their anticipated guest rejecting something because she knew it was from Opus wasn’t entirely zero, and the thought that she might detest it put the demon out of commission.

Siren had never seen her master more downtrodden. His usual unflagging confidence crumbled.

“Cheer up, Master. If you’re not sure, why not check on the situation yourself?”

“Y-yeah. You’re right. What’s taking that girl so long? I’m sure she got caught up in some ridiculous mess and made her business with me a footnote.”

Opus forced himself to think positive and stood up with clenched fists. Siren kept her thoughts of Simpleton to herself and continued to encourage her revitalized master.

“Well, might I suggest checking on the matter? You could prompt her indirectly as opposed to overtly.”

“Right. I’ll head out then. Keep an eye on the place for me!” Opus said with a vigorous nod and vanished with a haze of purple light. Afterglow was a common effect of Teleport.

Siren lightly waved good-bye and shrugged once the last particle faded.

“Well, then. I doubt he will be returning anytime soon, so perhaps I shall take a bit of time for myself.”

Siren prepared some tea and took out a hidden stash of her favorite scones and jam. After all, when the cat is away, the mice will play. Despite her usual demeanor, Siren found Opus’s constant presence exhausting. Chasing him away with a turn of phrase so she could have a moment’s peace was her guilty pleasure.