Dungeon? This Tree? Why Don't You Join Me for Lunch? (Dungeon Core)
Chapter 20: Keep morale high!

Chapter 20: Chapter 20: Keep morale high!

I was beginning to worry about my humans and the gnomes. Mael, Nara, Nesta and Nathan were with me, but it was not safe for them here, in the war camp.

Someone had to be there to protect those who had treated my old girl well.

But how does one explain to orcs in the prime of their lives, with arms like boulders, that they should not go to war?

"No," Mael said, a soft smile on his lips. "Do we get a mug of that?"

I narrowed my eyes. Here I was trying to save their lives, after managing to talk Brandon into getting some reinforcements, and those four wanted to throw their lives away!

"Look," they were warriors, I was not. But they could not cook healing food.

Which, even at just 1% recovery could at least stop the bleeding of a cut, or...

Yes, I needed to level up my food. The fact I had 2,000 hungry mouths to feed would help with that.

But Mael and Nara had two children! They had to think about their future!

"Good man, have you ever seen a zombie giant on the battlefield?" The General, who was yet to tell me his name, asked. A stuffed onion already making its way to his mouth. He ate it, licked his fingers, and then took another.

Man, these soldiers were bottomless pits!

"No... but I have seen regular zombies. You just need to break their heads open and set fire to the brain. Well, what’s left of it," Mael said.

Which would have been enough, I had to agree. If the zombie the General was speaking of was a normal zombie.

"Oh, yes, true," another stuffed onion went the way of the dodo. I sighed.

Did I, or did I not, have more rice?

"But the thing is, zombie giants are tall. Most of them are as tall as the trees which line the West Coast. The Baobab. Have you heard of them?"

I blinked. Ah, this was not good. Darn it, why didn’t I pay my taxes like a normal person?

"But those are..." Mael said, his green skin becoming pale.

"And they don’t have brains. The necromancers value them too much. A single one could defeat at least ten war elephants. Not that we have any."

I whimpered. Man, I was going to die...

"Then..." Mael said, as he looked at his wife, who was just as pale. "How does one defeat those?"

I could see that the soldiers had stopped eating and listening in. I wanted to yell at the General.

Whatever he said next might end up with most of them running off into the night!

Or cutting off their own limbs just to be sent home.

"There are three ways," he said, as he raised three fingers. "You burn them."

The soldiers breathed a sigh of relief, so, as if they were all part of a hive mind.

"But only black flames work on them. Only our good King Solas and his three Boliarins can produce them."

The General took another stuffed onion, as I began to pray to the universe to spare the darn Lich and his three underlings.

"You can chop off all of their limbs and bury them," I blinked. Oh, that was good! Everyone could chop limbs! Heck, if the bloody tourists managed to get branches off my old girl with normal axes, then I was sure, that...

"But the Boliarins of the Necromantic Union have long since learned to replace the bones of their giant zombies with steel ones."

We are doomed...

I started to repeat that in my head.

"And the final way," the darn General took another stuffed onion. If he kept on going like that, the soldiers would go to bed hungry!

Darn him!

"Is to turn them into mincemeat and then use the mincemeat as compost, letting plants purify the necromantic mana."

Oh, finally!

"You turn them into mincemeat," I said, as I nudged the platter with the onions towards a random soldier. He took three at once.

Man, these people...

"And I will turn them into compost!"

The General chuckled. A chuckle which turned into thunderous laughter.

"And how are we supposed to do that?" He asked, his fingers trying to tug the platter back into its former siege lines.

The other soldier was not letting go of it, taking three onions at a time, glaring the general down.

Did these people not know the meaning of the word discipline? Of the honor which came with the rank of General?

"You, brave heroes!" I said, a smirk on my lips. "Are going to get a Black Belt in Air Sorcery!"

The General scratched the back of his head.

"Everyone says they have one, but no one does," which was true!

"Sign here, here and here," I told them, showing them all the standard contract. "And take the tutorial."

"Dungeon core," the soldier who had let the platter with the onions slip through his fingers said with a full mouth.

"Yes," I said, for there was no way to explain the system screens. "But one who wants for life to keep on going. One who accepts the bad but strives for the good!"

The general clicked on the yes. Then at the tutorial.

"This better work," he said, as he placed the platter with the onions back in its place at the middle of our small gathering. "Soldiers! Eat up! And Dungeon Core? When are the mug cakes going to be ready?"

I looked at the batch I had placed in the microwave rune.

"They need to cool," I told him, as I began mixing up the next batch. A nice and cheap way to keep morale.

The water went into mugs. Then the sugar, just one spoonful. Then oil, again, just one spoonful. The baking soda had its own tiny spoon. The last thing I wanted was to give these men an upset stomach.

The blueberry jam was something I used sparingly, but these men needed the sugar.

I was also running low on vanilla, but needs must.

A simple fork was used to mix everything. The microwave rune binged.

Now, the hard question was: Do I place blueberry jam on top of the mug cakes, or let them cool down and drizzle them with honey?

I was running low on both.

But the soldiers really needed the sugar. Giant zombies... What was next? Zombie Hydra? Zombie Dragon?

Zombie... Terror Bird?

My hands were clasped in a prayer as the microwave rune began to spin the mug cakes.

The things I do for my old girl...