Anti-cake Dungeon Delving

Chapter 43: Chapter 43: Briefing


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The date that was not a date went without a hitch. But now, Jean had a problem. Because he was already making plans for a second date, with his entire party and Armaros.

The fact that he wanted them all was not the problem. There were plenty of parties who got so attached to each other that they ended up being together. Like the Budding Lilies, for example.

The problem was, that neither Morris nor Dorian seemed to be warming up to him, and Leander and Armaros were both obvious about his advances.

Well, Armaros might not be entirely obvious. Because, when Jean had brought him a box with sliced melon after training the other day, Armaros had smiled brightly and sat next to him. Taking no arguments and sharing the treat with him, stealing glances at Jean every so often and smiling even more each time.

But, Leander had tried to pay him back for the archery notebook Jean had tried to give him. Which had been embarrassing for the red-haired man. Seeing as, he just wanted to help Leander, and maybe get a leg up on the two warriors.

Both Morris and Dorian had brushed him off when he had tried to do nice things for them, which made Jean wonder if he had done something wrong.

To Morris, he had tried to give a pulse measuring band. Which was something Borik had favored. Morris had put it on, but hadn't turned it on. And Jean might be reading a lot into that, but he had the sinking feeling like Morris found it useless.

Dorian had taken one look at the whistle Jean had presented him with and snorted. He had told Jean that they could be just fine with hand signs. And no among of arguing on Jean's part had made the tank pick up the whistle.

That achievement belonged to Leander, who had argued that, if they got swarmed, Dorian might be too surrounded for his hand signs to be visible.  So, Dorian had taken the whistle and given it a couple of tries. Trying to imitate the signs with it.

But, Jean couldn't spend much time musing on his love life, or, lack of. Because the guild master had called them to his office, and Baleg had been cryptic about the reason.

Guild master Alklair, or Al, as people called him, was a thousand-year-old elf, so rather young still for his race. But, he was by no means inexperienced.

Starting off as a country bumpkin from a minor forest, he had become the best light mage there was in just ten years. And no one had been able to top his achievements. He was the poster child for hard work and, Jean suspected, the idol of the Try Hard Party. His own included, for he couldn't deny the value of the hard work that the guild master still put into his own training.

The four came into the office in formation mode. Once they were inside, they lined up in two rows and waited to be spoken to.

"Quite the disciplined soldiers you all are, are you not?" Alklair began with a chuckle. It secretly amused him that the Try Hard Party were such, well, try hards.

"You might be wondering why you are here. Not because of trouble. Well, not one by your own making, at any rate," at those words, the four sent the back of the guild master confused looks. Were they getting sent to a more dangerous quest? With Jean in their party, they should have expected it. But, he was still not fully healed.

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"Permission to speak?" Dorian's voice was level, but uncertain. He knew that he couldn't change the mind of the guild master. Still, he felt that he should argue.

"Granted," Alklair finally turned to look at them, back now facing the big windows that dominated the wall of his office.

"Jean is not fully healed from the Samkiel's...accident," Alklair sighed.

"Yes, but there is nothing to it. As you might have noticed from the papers, numerous dungeon cores have run away. Breaking their contracts, God knows how. For all intents and purposes, they should not even be able to think, once in captivity. Yet, they are active and driven," Dorian, Leander and Morris shared a look. Could Armaros have woken all the cores when he ran?

"It all started with the hamster dungeon core," Alklair spoke gravely, and the three paled. Jean raised an eyebrow at their reaction. "It ran, and the other cores woke. Now, no matter how much the researchers pour null water at them, they don't go to sleep."

"Do you want for us to go look for the hamster dungeon core?" Dorian's voice wavered. If they had to, they would run. As far as the heart of the world. Perhaps Asmodeos would welcome fellow rule breakers from the same guild that had made him into a legend?

"No, it is harmless. I don't think it is something it did intentionally. Rather, the act of it running away acted as an inspiration to the others. No. You are the tenth party I have had this conversation with. And, if Jean was not a part of it, you wouldn't be in my office right now," Leander's shoulders slumped. He was glad that they wouldn't have to hunt, or pretend to hunt, Armaros.

"What is our quest?" Dorian asked, looking relieved as well.

"You are to start taking more dangerous quests. There are millions of dungeon cores in captivity, all around the world. And they are all running away from the labs. So, your quest for the coming month, filling all your twenty quest slots and paying you twenty gold coins per person, is put forward by the Klorfiel family. You are to go to the seaside, where a dungeon core has taken over the abandoned mystery maze of thunder."

"Sir, yes, sir," they all chorused and Alklair chuckled.

"I have forgotten how enthusiastic new parties are to appear professional. I do hope the four of you are not just formations and enthusiasm, though. For you will need more for the mission," the four saluted and turned to leave, getting back into formation.

Alklair turned to stare out of the window. In a minute, the next party will come, and he would send them to a dungeon. Despite them not being ready.

That was why he had had free textbooks written and upped the ante when it came to the training hall. If only everyone could have the same enthusiasm about training and learning as the Try Hard Party and the hamster dungeon core, or, should he say, the woodsman Armaros, he could send them off with a smile. As things stood, he had guilt eating at him. Because he knew not everyone would return.

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