Chapter Three Hundred and Twenty - The Root of the Matter

“Hold!” Lieutenant Petalwrought called out with one arm raised.

Everyone held their positions, though I think most of us looked around for a trap of some sort. Was a second boss going to appear? A bigger, badder boss?

I kept searching, but there was nothing suspicious. The boss room was quiet except for a slight wind that rustled the grass and wheat, and the sporadic creaking of the windmill. Finally, Amaryllis broke the silence. “This isn’t normal, I take it?” she asked. “That the boss died this easily?”

Had the boss really died? I checked Mister Menu real quick to confirm it.

Ding! Congratulations, you have sent ‘Sir Napwashad,’ level 16, to his eternal slumber! For defeating a Dungeon boss, bonus exp is gained! EXP reduced for fighting as a group!

Mister Menu had another notification for me after that one.

Dungeon Cleared!
All adversaries within The Dungeon of the Lullaby Knight Defeated.
All Bosses Defeated.
Broccoli Bunch, Cinnamon Bun Bun level 13, Wonderlander level 4, is awarded the Nightie Knight class.
All class slots filled.
Replace current class with Nightie Knight?
Replacing one of your current classes will reset your level to 0 in that class.

No thank you. Although of all the class-options I had, this one was one of the most interesting. Maybe I’d take it as a third class. Though with the way my levelling had slowed down, that wouldn’t be for months.

“It’s really the boss,” Lieutenant Petalwrought confirmed. “Knights, stay here, guard everyone. Erin, Bron, could you follow me? We’ll verify that the exit is still cleared.”

Everyone let out a sigh and some of the tension left us. I think we were all hyped up for a big battle, but that wasn’t going to happen. I was... a little annoyed, but I pushed that away. I didn’t need to be worried or annoyed at not having to fight. If anything, it was a good thing.

I had to admit that I was a teeny-tiny bit hooked on the thrill of doing crazy dungeon stuff though. It was a ton of fun.

I moved closer to my friends while folding Weedbane back up. “That was unexpected,” I said.

“It was,” Amaryllis said. She looked a bit distracted though.

“Is everything alright?” Awen asked.

Amaryllis nodded. “Oh ,yes, it’s fine. I levelled up my Thundere class. Level thirteen.”

“Oh, same as me!” I said.

She nodded. “I suspect Awen won’t be far behind. There’s a tendency for people who work together and who face the same challenges to eventually reach the same level threshold.”

“Is thirteen a big number for you?” I asked.

“No, nothing special, just another step forward. It’s nice to see some growth though. I might push some of my skills up a rank.”

“Oh, I’m thinking of doing that too. I have a Wonderlander skill that I’d like to see become a bit stronger. It might be fun!”

“Hmm,” Amaryllis said.

Awen shrugged. “I’m pretty happy with our growth so far. It’s a lot more than I think anyone expected from me... except maybe Uncle.”

I laughed and pulled her into a hug. “If that’s the case, then I’ll expect you to hit level one hundred and be the strongest person ever!” I said.

“Oh no,” Awen said, monotone. “Now I’m going to have to live with your crushing expectations instead.”

I laughed some more, then settled down as I saw the lieutenant leaving the windmill “It’s clear,” he said. “More roots, but the door to the main room is accessible.”

“Where’s the dungeon core?” I asked.

He tensed up for a moment, then relaxed. “It’s back here. In the bedroom that links everything together. Come on everyone. Unless there’s anything anyone here wants to verify?”

There wasn’t, though Aria did shuffle her foot through the ashes left by the boss when he faded away. “Any drops?” I asked.

“Can’t see them if there are any,” Aria said.

“The boss here only drops things on occasion,” one of the knights said. “It’s usually pyjamas. They’re comfortable enough. Help you rest well. Sometimes his lance will stay. It’s really just a piece of lumber though.”

“Oh, that’s... well, it’s something,” I said.

“I suspect if this dungeon were open to the public, it wouldn’t be all that popular with delvers,” Bron said.

“Because the drops are all kind of... uninteresting?” I asked.

“That, and it’s real tough. The best dungeons for dungeon delvers are those that are low-risk, easy to work through, and have good rewards. Cloth is... well, it’s not bad. Good clothes take a lot to make, I’m sure. Some of it can be pricey, but it’s hard to justify risking your life to maybe fetch a pair of pants and some yarn, ya know?”

I nodded along. “I don’t think I could become a dungeon delver,” I said.

“We delve two-to-three dungeons a month,” Amaryllis said.

“Yeah, but never the same one twice. I’m in it for the new experiences. I think the sense of wonder might wear away if you visit the same place twice, you know?”

We entered the windmill. The interior was all old wood and dust, with what looked like several half-floors above where I could see the mechanism for the mill held in place by big wooden beams. A huge grindstone sat in the centre, am imposing slab of carved rock that forced us to walk along the edges of the room. Roots were using the beams above to hang in place and had definitely clogged things up by jamming themselves in the gears and wheels.

“This way,” Lieutenant Petalwrought said. He was next to a door, which opened up onto a familiar bedroom.

“That’ll lead us out of the dungeon?” I asked. “And to the core room?”

“Both, yes,” he said.

We followed him in. The same bedroom since the start of the dungeon, only this one had cracked floorboards with thick roots shoved in through between the wood, making everything uneven. A large root had ploughed through one of the walls, and dirt spilled out from the floor-to-ceiling rent as though we were underground, even though a window right next to it showed a pretty view of some nighttime fields.

Was this the first bedroom-room with a window?

The wretched miasma of rot and mould felt like it was trying to choke me to death. Foetid water ran down the walls and the only reason the floor wasn't a swamp was because it was seeping out through the cracks made by the roots. The bed frame had literally rotted out and collapsed, while the dresser had fallen over, spilling sodden nightclothes through the mud.

“There’s an extra door here,” Amaryllis said past a handkerchief over her mouth.

I looked around and she was right. The other bedrooms all had two doors. One to enter, one that led onto the next floor. This one had a third. It was blocked though, by a large root that was pressed right up against the door.

“That's how to get to the core,” Lieutenant Petalwrought said.

I stepped over to the doorway placing a hand on the root.

“Maybe stand back a bit?" I requested. "I'm going to clear out this root."

“Please describe the method you will use for this attempt?” Aria asked. She had her notebook out already.

“Mostly I’m going to blast it with a lot of Cleaning magic. If it’s like the last few roots, then it’ll kind of... disintegrate? Uh, Lieutenant, the Evil Roots will definitely not like that. They might try to fight back.”

His eyebrows rose, then he looked around the room, which had a number of roots in it. “Will they try to grab us?”

“No, at least, I don’t think so. They might move. Mostly they’ll spawn these terrible plant monsters that'll try to eat us."

"Uh." The Lieutenant looked a lot more on guard now.

"But only if there are any seed pods!" I hastened to add. "And we haven't seen any of those yet."

“Everyone, on your guard,” he said. His sword came out, and the knights did likewise. “What’s the plan once the path is cleared?”

“Is the core right on the other side of this door?” I asked.

“It should be, yes,” he said. “It’s in a rather vulnerable place.”

“Alright. Then I’ll clear a path to the core, then wash everything around it. Aria, if you want to take notes, that’ll be the time.”

“Lucille, I’ll want your expert opinion,” Aria said. “You know magic better than I do.”

Lucille nodded at that, then refocused on me.

I took a deep breath, then checked my mana.

Mana 87/145

Not perfect, but more than I had to work with on other occasions. And once we were in the core room, I wouldn’t lack any mana. “Oh!” I said as I remembered. “In other dungeons, the dungeon itself might react to the roots breaking.”

“React how?” the lieutenant asked.

“Monsters might respawn suddenly. We don’t have to go back through any of the rooms again, right?”

“No, the exit is right there,” he said.

“How do monsters react?” Aria asked. “I’ve never heard of a dungeon respawning creatures while people were still in an instance.”

“They’ll reappear and attack the roots. I don’t know if it’ll be enough to clear the entire, ah, infection. But they’ll attack the roots instead of not reacting to them at all,” I said.

“It’s not too dissimilar to a body’s reaction to an allergen, in a way,” Amaryllis said. “A sort of immune response that the dungeon can only use once the grip of the roots is broken away.”

“Any other questions?” I asked.

At the lack of response I nodded, then turned to the root. “Whelp, here goes,” I said. I pressed my hand against the root, then focused on my magic. My improved Way of the Mystic Bun let me feel the mana running through the root, but it was... surprisingly weak? I could move someone’s mana in their body, but it felt like every last bit of mana in the root was zipping away, or maybe it was being used up as quickly as it came?

I supposed that made a sort of sense.

Cleaning magic erupted out of me in a condensed storm. It coursed across the room, stripping mould off the walls, wiping the windows clean, removing every stain from the blankets and what was left of the mattress in the corner. The room’s smell, of dust and staleness and rot, was wiped away by a fresh breeze that left the place smelling like spring and freshly cut wood. Except for my closest friends, some of the others even took a step back, shifting uneasily as my magic wicked away sweat-stains and grime. The knights wouldn’t need to polish their armour today!

Then I concentrated the magic back into the root. I grunted as the magic didn’t quite want to take hold, but I was a stubborn bun, and no root was going to dirty this place up under my watch.

The smaller spouts sticking out of the root disintegrated; the floor creaked as some of the roots poking through the boards blackened and fell apart. And then the big root before me twitched under my hand and seemed to try to pull back.

“No way, buster,” I cursed.

My mana dropped like a stone, but I didn’t care. I drove my magic into the root like railroad spikes hit with a sledgehammer, one after another. The root creaked, parts of it turning to powder along fault lines, letting great chunks of plant flesh slough off.

And then the root couldn’t support its own weight and it snapped apart down the middle, both halves thumping to the floor.

I let out a long sigh, then wiped my already-clean brow.

Mana 09/145

Close one! But I still had a tiny bit in the tank. “That’s one root down,” I said. “Or enough to let us through, at least,” I said.

“... That was impressive,” Lucille said. “I have only had a few chances to see master-rank magic at work, and it’s rarely in so specific and narrow a focus for a magical skill.”

“Ah, well, thanks! It happened entirely by accident!” I said.

With that, I tugged the door to the core room open, then winced at what I saw.

A wall of roots. Hundreds of tiny ones all braided together to form a barrier that I could hardly see past. Bigger ones filled in the space around those, and through that web, only faintly visible past a canopy of leaves sprouting from the roots, was the dungeon’s core sitting atop what looked like a pile of blankets in a baby cradle made of stone.

“This is going to take some work.”

***