Dungeon? This Tree? Why Don't You Join Me for Lunch? (Dungeon Core)
Chapter 23: You were people once… right?

Chapter 23: Chapter 23: You were people once... right?

Twenty mug cakes can be eaten in exactly five minutes. In such a way, that even a pig would run and hide, thinking that it was next.

I wanted to run and hide too, make no mistake. Before one has seen an old man pull his jaw apart like a snake and eat five mug cakes with the bowls at once they had seen nothing.

But here I was, on a pillow, as the Boliari looked at me.

"Healthy set of lungs," the one who let me in said. "But the king does not need lungs."

"Pity for the heart," the oldest one said. "Such a pity. So broken..."

"What is with my heart?" I asked, my voice was high-pitched.

For a second, I forgot all about the fact that these men were powerful enough to cut down my tree by just breathing at it.

My heart... was I... going to die?

"Yes, broken, slow, like some old tree which thinks that it can live forever," the oldest one said.

I blinked.

Wait... but they were talking about Methuselah! They had no idea what sort of nymph I was!

"Can the king also feel that... I am unwell?" I asked. Oh, chocolate on a marshmallow, let the blonde git think I am on the brink of dying!

Let him think that my heart won’t last him even a day!

"Well, we told him, so yes," the oldest one said. "Apple Nymphs are never long-lived. But you... you are not worth harvesting. It is a miracle your blood flows."

I thanked the stars and my dear old Methuselah. Yes! The king was not going to try to kill me!

Which begged the question: did these people never go to my home continent? Have they never heard about a bristle cone pine tree?

That was the best news I could have gotten! After all, if they did not know, then that was perfect!

For with my heart, Solas could have probably survived until the end of time.

Or until Grumpy Pants managed to get out of the tree and smother him in his sleep. He never fought fair, that Marinus.

"Oh, yes, about that... those zombies of yours. Now, I mean no disrespect. You, all three of you, look like nightmares," the unhealthy kind.

Karl Lambert once passed by Methuselah and that was mana.

Edwin Roberts passed by Theanore’s tree and healed her as best he could.

Now, that was mana!

These three...

They were graveyard harvesters. Nothing more.

"But you think that we will be no match for the necromancers of the Necromantic Union?" The oldest one said.

"Well..." I always hated it when someone wore a truth pendant. But those were cheap.

I blamed bored housewives who waited for their husbands by the door.

And knew their way with runes...

"But you forget one thing, Nymph," I was beginning to weigh the pros and cons of telling these people my name.

On one hand, they could curse me. On the other, it might build a relationship with a foundation of respect, love, and the desire not to eat me.

"Sylvan," I said, as I offered my hand to the oldest one. He must be the Blood Mage! I was sure of it.

He looked at my hand, then at his own. He shook my hand, only to narrow his eyes.

"Well, well, well," I did not like this. I did not like this at all! "You are no Apple Nymph."

Every instinct in my body wanted for me to jump up and run.

But I stood my ground.

"How do you know I’m not?" I was ready to bullshit him so thoroughly that he was going to believe that the sky was purple by the time I walked out of the tent!

"I was a farmer," oh, no... Nick! "And I know how an apple tree’s mana feels like. You are not an Apple Nymph!"

"Oh," the one who let me in said, as he looked at the empty box where my mug cake had been. "Then Solas can use his heart!"

"His blood is barely flowing. How is the king going to fight with such a heart?" I was ready to kiss the middle Boliarin, as I liked to call him. He was mostly silent.

"Yes! I am useless!"

All three started to blink.

"And shameless," the one who let me in said, as he laid down on the ground. "But to be honest, why do you not run away? We are all doomed. Desmond, by the way."

Was the Blood Mage this young? Sure, he looked like death warmed over, but he looked no older than a seventeen-year-old!

"Nathaniel," the Eye Eater offered his hand. I took it, but let it go seconds later, shaking my own.

The bastard had put electricity through my hand!

"Hey!" I yelled, only to be grabbed by the Eye Eater and forced close to his face.

"You see us," he whispered as his fingers closed around my eyeball.

I was going to die. I was going to be eaten. I was going to...

"And we see you! You have life in you. Your blood can heal us! Bind yourself to us, Nymph, and we will make sure that no one will harvest you!"

I did not like this. But there was one thing I needed to do before I pledged to supply these three Lichs with sugar until the end of my very, very, long life.

"Sylvan, not Nymph!" I yelled, as I bit him on the neck.

Injecting him with mana.

Sure, there were more painless ways to get someone to become your boss mob, but those were not something I wanted to do with someone who looked about one sneeze away from becoming a broken skeleton.

But, darn it, Nathaniel had blood which tasted of old socks! Nick’s blood was spicy, but had that taste to it, that came with leaving a piece of pork in the sun during the summer solstice.

And Desmond... the git was giggling during the entire time.

As I was forced to gulp down his darn blood, which had the taste of ripe tomatoes.

Not even rotten ones, but...

I don’t like eating raw tomatoes, darn it!