Dungeon? This Tree? Why Don't You Join Me for Lunch? (Dungeon Core)
Chapter 12: The storm

Chapter 12: Chapter 12: The storm

The oinking had kept me awake, but I did not dare show my face outside. The tree was thick, ancient, and had armor-like bark.

Which made me question more than once just what sort of tools the tourists had, to be able to cut off branches...

But that was not what bothered me, as the first rays of sunlight tried to break through the stormy clouds.

A storm was coming. I could feel the ice in the clouds. How was I supposed to keep the humans here?

I was all out of food!

"Well, we must go now. Take care now, nymph," I was not even worried about the fact that they knew what I was. I was worried about the fact that ice cubes the size of walnuts were going to rain down on them!

"Sylvan," I heard my old girl said, her voice like sunlight. "If you tell them the truth, they will believe you!"

"But," I was at a loss. The barrier which Grumpy Pant’s sea horn was keeping up would be a thing of the past by the end of this storm!

I had to keep it going with the dream catcher, or else the humans were going to die!

"Sylvan!" Now her voice was like thunder. This was the woman who raised an entire dungeon down to the foundations. The woman who, even at the tender age of two, chose peace instead of war.

"As you wish," I told her, feeling as she smiled.

"A storm is coming," this was no lie. No clever trick. Not like how I used that strange pig last night. This was a real danger. "And there will be a hailstorm. The forest won’t be a safe place for any of you!"

Some of the villagers grumbled, but as Anne stood up, together with her granny Almira, I knew that I had allies in this crowd.

"Did the tree tell you?" My little helper asked.

"I..." should I do it, I asked myself. Should I expose my tree as a dungeon? The adventurers were going to come! I would not need to worry about tourists cutting off branches or stealing the moss, for... to expose my old girl now meant her death!

"I am a nymph," when in doubt, do a truth-lie-truth sandwich. "And I have a connection with mother nature. I can smell the ice in the air."

I knew that Anne was not buying it. She may be a small girl, but that was a strange thing to be able to do. Her grandmother, Almira, narrowed her eyes.

I placed a hand on my chest, right over where I believed my heart was.

"I will protect you all," and think up a way to pay the gnomes for the food. Hopefully, they will not flip their flag... "Even if it means my own life will be in danger!"

My voice echoed in the roots of the tree, caressed my old girl’s branches. For a second, I thought that the old dried-up tree was trying to form a single leaf.

But as soon as it happened, the feeling vanished. And yet, I had hope. This was the tree of a kind and good nymph. It had given me refuge.

The only way to wake it up was to be just as kind. Just as good.

"Well, boy," the grannie said, for she was also an old girl, who had to protect someone. "Let us make something for breakfast! The children must be hungry!"

I nodded.

The gnomes had given me a lot of food, but I cooked a lot yesterday. I did not even know what I had left.

The bottomless bag opened with ease, which was never a good sign. I reached out inside, hoping that there would be at least one bag inside.

I pulled out... the pancake mix!

I smiled. I could make some soufflé pancakes! A single one, if I managed to find some fruit to go with it, would feed a single villager!

So far, so good.

I reached inside once more. Hoping for blueberries. When I touched the wooden fruit crate because it had a cooling rune on it, I was optimistic.

I pulled the crate out, Anne leaned in, a smile on her face.

"Fingers crossed for blueberries!" I said to the little girl. She bounced on her feet.

The lid opened.

"Strawberries!" Her yell brought most of the villagers to chuckling. I looked at the ceiling of the dungeon. Ready to thank the divines.

"I have a plan," I said, as I rummaged inside the bottomless bag once more. Sure, I had some eggs left. "But I will need help with it. From all of you."

For I did not know for how long the storm was going to rage. The dream catcher had just 3,000 mana points in it. That was enough to keep the barrier for a whole day.

But what if lightning fell near the tree? A forest fire had to be dealt with at once!

It was better to be prepared than to pray to the divines.

"You need a story, nymph?" Grannie Almira asked.

"Yes! The best you can think up!" My hands finally found the eggs. Good, now for the milk! I should still have milk. Please — let me have milk!

"Oh, I’ll tell you a story alright," Grandma Almira said, as she narrowed her eyes. "A story about a lost harvest."

I blinked. No, that was not the story I wanted! The dream catcher was not going to get anything out of it! It would be too sad!

"Sylvan," my old girl said so, as if she were waving her finger at me. "You should get to know the bad, not just the good!"

"But," I tried to protest. I felt so, as if someone tugged my ear. I smiled.

"Does it have a good ending?" I asked, as I pulled out a bottle with milk. It was half-full. But the pancakes did not need much.¹

"Well, we are here, aren’t we?" She said so, as if that was the answer I needed to hear.

"Then the stage is yours, Grannie," I said, as I began to take out the cookware out of the bag.

Hoping the storm won’t be too severe.

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