Chapter 139, Thunder King and Curry

Translator: Barnnn

 

Lightning ripped the air.

 

BOOM! CRACK! Rumble, rumble… KA-BOOM!

FLASH! CLANG!

 

Rolling thunder answered in long, snarling growls.

A chorus of screams and shouts followed.

 

“Yaaahhh!”

“Uwoooh!”

“Hyahahaha!”

“Whaaah!”

“Mm!”

“Kyooo!”

 

On the ninety-second floor of the Speraniessa Dungeon, blinding arcs of light tore across the sprawling wetland.

Steam hissed from the ground in thick, curling plumes, carrying with it the sharp stench of something burnt.

 

“Behold! The birth of the Thunder King!”

“Yeah! Thunder King! So cool!”

“Kekyooo!”

 

Hal struck a pose — one fist raised to the sky, the other hand brushing his hair back with theatrical flair. Across from him, Ize and Sato whooped and clapped like adoring fans.

Fieda gave them a single, unimpressed glance before scanning the ground below.

 

“We’ll wait and see how it settles before going down.”

 

Volhelm, still gaping, hurried to crouch at the cliff’s edge beside them. One look over and he froze.

 

“…Will it go back to normal?”

“If the Dungeon still works properly, it should reset on its own…” Gruash said.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Ize reassured. “Hal wrecked the environment back in Jasted’s Dungeon, too. It’s all restored after a few days.”

“The Giant Turtles respawned, too,” Hal added.

Fieda gave him a sidelong look. “Right, and you were SO relieved when you knew you hadn’t driven them extinct.”

 

Wardon still stood slack-jawed, staring at the scorched swamp.

 

“Uh, so…” Hal scratched his hair lightly. “Think lightning works on undead?”

“Hmm,” Volhelm tilted his head. “Hard to say. We’d have to try, but with that much punch, it should.”

“What’s the magical power cost looking like?” Gruash asked.

“Not much, actually. It’s just a bit of weak water magic and wind magic to form the clouds. Then once the conditions are right, nature takes over.”

“Hmm… then it’s a solid way to weaken the enemy. If you can work holy water into the spell that makes the clouds, all the better.”

“Oh! I didn’t think of that! I’ll try it!”

 

The gleam in Hal’s gaze said it all: adding holy attributes to lightning magic was exactly the sort of idea that thrilled his inner edgelord.

 

“All right, still stinks, but the steam’s clearing,” Volhelm noted, sweeping his own wind magic across the area to drive it away.

“Let’s send Wardon in first,” Gruash said. “He won’t die from a little shock.”

“Bold of you to say that right in front of me.”

 

Wardon groaned, but then he started down the path without further complaint.

 

◆

 

For the past several days, the group had been tackling the Speraniessa Dungeon’s deep floors. There were now six of them: Fieda’s party of three, joined this time by three A-rank adventurers — Gruash, Volhelm, and Wardon.

Fieda’s team’s record stood at floor eighty-four, and they had considered that floors ninety and onwards would be too much for the three of them alone, considering it required a B-rank member to enter in the first place.

They’d planned to enlist Shezel after the New Year chaos had died down, but he’d been left behind this time. Instead, the three A-ranks had joined them to observe Ize and Hal’s magic in action.

And so here they were, on the ninety-second floor. They had been lying in wait above a cliff to strike at a herd of Mud Buffalos, when Hal had unleashed a colossal thunder cloud without hesitation.

 

“All clear!” Wardon called from below.

 

The rest began picking their way down the narrow, crumbling slope. It looked treacherous, but seeing Wardon’s massive frame manage it without trouble eased everyone’s nerves.

 

“You doing okay, Ize?” Hal asked over his shoulder.

“It’s high, but I’m fine,” she replied.

“All right. Remember, I’m right in front of you. Just say something if you get nervous.”

“Thanks.”

 

With Sato tucked safely in her Magic Bag, Ize walked between Hal and Fieda, slowly proceeding down.

Cliffs, stairs, and unstable terrain no longer frightened her.

…After all, there were far worse things to fear.

For an instant, a vivid red haze overlapped the narrow back ahead of her. Her steps faltered, but she blinked hard, and it was gone.

 

“I’m fine… I’m fine…” she whispered under her breath, pressing on.

 

Hal, catching the murmur, smiled to himself without a word.

 

◆

 

“Damn, that was crazy… there had to be fifty of them,” Wardon said when they reached the bottom.

“This cliff’s a tough spot, even for A-ranks,” Volhelm admitted. “Impressive work!”

“So this is what you meant, Fieda… the fight itself definitely lasted shorter than the time it would take to collect the loot.”

“Oh, that’s not an issue anymore, either,” Ize said offhandedly.

Hal grinned. “We have to look after the party elder’s precious back, after all. Ize and I worked out a fix.”

 

He proceeded to summon a tight, two-meter-high whirlwind before them. Volhelm’s eyes lit up at the smooth casting, being a wind mage himself.

 

“Very clean execution,” he said.

“Thanks. And now, Ize will throw the loot into it with her dark magic.”

“…What?”

“Did I hear that right? She… throws them?”

“You’ll see.”

 

Hal gave the signal as the three A-ranks tilted their heads.

 

“Okay, here I go!” Ize called, raising her hand.

 

In an instant, the loot scattered across the ground — Mud Buffalo Magicite, horns, hides — sprang into the air, clinking and clattering as if yanked by invisible strings, and sailed into the tornado.

 

“Whoa!”

“What in the…!”

 

The wind swallowed each piece and spun it aloft.

 

“Hal, a little to the left,” Ize said.

“Got it.”

 

The vortex drifted, sweeping up the next pile.

 

“What exactly is going on here, Fieda?” Volhelm turned to ask.

“Ize’s dark magic can’t retrieve anything larger than a Magicite directly yet. So she improvised a bit and launched the items instead, and Hal’s whirlwind catches and carries them. Efficient, right?”

“That’s… I’ve never seen magic used like this before!”

“I hadn’t either, until the Undead Dungeon.”

“That’s not the part I’m questioning!”

 

Gruash rubbed at the bridge of his nose while Wardon watched the process like a fascinated child.

 

“All set,” Ize said at last.

“Got it. I’m moving it over to that side. Now, everyone back up a bit,” Hal called.

 

The group stepped away from the edge of the swamp.

Hal’s whirlwind spun with impossible speed, yet the air around it remained still. It drifted onto solid ground, slowing by degrees before vanishing altogether. The moment it disappeared, a cascade of heavy thuds filled the air as a mound of loot came crashing down.

 

“Ooh, this is a pretty decent haul!” Hal said with a satisfied nod.

“But… no meat…” Ize remarked, peering at the pile.

“Meh, buffalo meat’s tough and stringy anyway.”

“I’m fine without it, then. What about the horns and hides?”

“Horns make weapons, hides go into armor.”

“Boooring.”

“It DOES mean the stuff will always be in demand and fetch a decent price, though. We’ll keep some and sell the rest.”

 

The two crouched over the spoils, tossing them one after another into their Magic Bags. Watching them, the older members of the party let out a collective, weary sigh.

 

“So it’s not just the power of their magic that’s absurd,” Volhelm muttered. “It’s the way they use it, too.”

Gruash glanced at Fieda. “And you never thought to stop these… experiments of theirs?”

“Oh, give me a break,” Fieda said flatly. “Spend an entire day picking up Magicite after fights, and you’ll accept just about anything that spares you that pain.”

Gruash gave a short, acknowledging grunt. “Fair enough. Nothing’s more tedious than scouring the ground after you’re already dead on your feet from fighting a horde of Beasts.”

“Sometimes I give up halfway through,” Volhelm admitted.

“Half is way too much to leave behind, man,” Wardon scoffed.

“Is it?”

“You fought hard to kill them. Doesn’t it feel wasteful to just leave it?”

“Consider this, then: you have to pick up two-hundred tiny Magicites after clearing a whole tribe of Goblins.”

“…Okay, yeah, that’s too much,” Wardon conceded.

 

Apparently, both men had been through their share of post-battle grunt work. In the end, they exchanged a resigned shrug.

 

“Sorry for the wait!” Hal called from a little distance away.

“We’re all done!” Ize added.

“Much appreciated!” Fieda said, waving and offering them a little nod before turning back to Volhelm. “So, how far to tonight’s campsite?”

“Once we’re through this swamp, it’s close,” Volhelm said. “No enemies in range thanks to Hal’s stunt earlier, so… maybe an hour.”

“Near that big trees in the far right corner?”

“That’s the one. Dry ground starts from there.”

“You hear that?” Fieda called back. “One more hour!”

“Music to my ears!” Hal said brightly.

“Dinner!” Ize chimed in.

 

The two of them snapped exaggerated salutes at Fieda, grinning from ear to ear.

 

◆

 

On the dry ground, the familiar camp setup took shape: the container house, bath, toilet, dining set… and of course, the evening’s meal laid out on top.

 

“The Lord’s manor food is good,” Hal said, “but you need a bit of wild flair for camp cooking.”

“I’m happy for the salad,” Ize agreed, “but camp calls for hearty meat, not paper-thin slices.”

 

They unpacked pots and dishes, each nodding with satisfaction at the spread.

 

“You even brought curry?” Wardon asked, sounding faintly scandalized. “In a Dungeon? With that smell?”

“We’ve got my Stealth,” Ize said lightly. “That covers scent too.”

“Sounds like a waste of MP to me…”

 

Done pitching his tent, Wardon washed his hands in the water jar and sat down.

Normally, adventurers didn’t bother with a tent on A-rank floors, but with a larger group, and Ize’s skill removing the need for night watch, everyone permitted themselves to get a little comfortable.

 

“Been a while since I’ve had town food,” Gruash murmured, the corner of his mouth softening.

 

For four years as Lord, he’d eaten nothing but the refined fare of his manor and high-end restaurants. Now he reached for a plate, piling on curries from the pot and warm naan from the platter with almost boyish eagerness.

 

“Curry’s the best!” Volhelm declared. “And sweets taste even better after it!”

 

Despite his sweet tooth, he heaped the spiciest curry onto his plate, clearly setting up his palate for dessert.

Gruash gave him a sidelong look, then took a generous bite of naan drenched in curry, closing his eyes in satisfaction. Under the Dungeon’s dark canop of trees, with his black hair and sun-browned skin, his composed, aristocratic air called to mind a black panther.

Hal and Ize dished steaming rice from the magical cooker, ladling boar curry over the top.

 

“The best thing about Speraniessa is the curry,” Hal said.

“And we can get both the Japanese-style and the authentic stuff — thanks to the Hero,” Ize added.

“The best thing in town… is curry?” Gruash muttered, his pride in the territory as its former Lord no doubt wounded.

Fieda caught the expression and, after a moment’s thought, addressed him directly. “You know, Gruash, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. You don’t have to answer if you’d rather not.”

“Why so serious?” Gruash wiped his fingertips with a napkin and passed a curry pot to Fieda. “Go on, ask away.”

“You and Loudipa seem very close. So why did you leave him untreated for so long?”

 

Hal and Ize paused mid-bite, turning toward him.

 

“Oh, is that all?” Gruash gave a short laugh, not particularly bothered as he resumed eating mid-explanation. “At the time, both the treatment center and my manor had enemy agents inside. I thought it safer to keep his condition stable than risk healing him.”

“You were worried they’d just poison him again?”

“Exactly.”

“And there weren’t any other issues?” Hal pressed.

“No, not particularly. Just… little worries. And they were all resolved thanks to you three.”

“That so? Good for you,” Hal said, his tone more dry than congratulatory.

Ize tilted her head. “Wait, why’d you say it like that, Hal?”

“I must’ve complained about it before… but they ended up using us as bait to flush out enemy spies, didn’t they?”

“Oh, that,” Ize nodded. “The time a few employees got… laid off.”

“That’s the one.”

Gruash raised an eyebrow. “You noticed?”

“Sure did.”

Gruash gave a rueful shrug. “The plan hatched the day Lou recovered. While I was waiting for you three to return to your inn — and remember, you took AGES to show up — I had plenty of time to think of ways to outmaneuver the enemy. Besides…” His gaze flicked toward Volhelm, shoveling down spicy curry. “The Fire Dragon’s scales won us the cooperation of several nobles. Through them, news of the royal succession reached us quickly; thanks to that, Lou was able to move freely almost at once. I’m grateful.”

 

He met the eyes of Fieda, Hal, and Ize in turn, then gave a small bow.

 

“Oh, I’m sure you have a LOT of other things to be grateful for,” Hal said, his voice teasing.

Gruash straightened slowly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“So Loudipa recovered, right? And he got moved to the manor? AND Miss Rossalie moved in at the same time…”

“Gah…”

“And even now, long after Loudipa’s fully recovered and returned to his duties, Miss Rossalie’s still there.”

“Urgh.”

“And I hear you’re hanging out with her every day now, not just once a week.”

“…Oh-ho…” Ize murmured, stroking an imaginary beard.

 

Fieda, Volhelm, and Wardon all wore broad, knowing grins as Gruash’s face flushed bright red.

 

“W-well… I…” he began.

“If you really want to thank us,” Hal said cheerfully, “make sure you make her happy, after all the waiting she’s done for you!”

“…I will.”

 

Though perplexed by the contrast between Hal’s words and his sixteen-year-old physical age, Gruash nodded firmly.