Dungeon? This Tree? Why Don't You Join Me for Lunch? (Dungeon Core)
Chapter 40: The food is…

Chapter 40: Chapter 40: The food is...

The zombie in question was the scholar woman Solas had shown interest in. The lady had no idea why she was in a rune, but I could guess that she did not care.

Solas had given her all the comforts one could give someone. Not only that, but the lady looked to be finely dressed.

Solas activated the time rune. Time began to pass faster for her. I watched as nothing happened in the first five minutes. Which meant that nothing was going to happen for the first fifty days.

Then, her skin turned into stone. She looked at her new limbs in amazement.

"Hey, what is happening? Am I getting an upgrade?" I had no idea why she turned into stone and not wood. Did that mean there was something wrong with my tree? Why couldn’t I produce life?

My Boliarin son, I really had to give them names, tugged at my curls so, as if he could read thoughts.

I blinked, the boy began to chew on the curl, his eyes narrowed.

"Sorry," I murmured. Knowing that now, Desmond was not the only one mad at me.

"Won’t you answer me?" The lady yelled, only for her teeth to begin to rot. I watched the horror in her eyes as she turned back to being a zombie. As the light of her soul exited her rotting corpse once more.

Then she blew up.

I looked at the snow under her corpse. Or what was left of it. It was now black like tar and had the consistency of oil.

"Well, let’s see what this is," Solas took a spoon and a bowl and approached the barrier. Only for vines to wrap around him and pull him back.

"Let me," Doran, ever the mountain of muscle, took the bowl and the spoon from his lover and king and approached the barrier. He had his bark armor on.

I knew that he was going to be fine. Or at least, I hoped he was going to be fine.

He scooped some of the stuff, then shoved a spoonful in a docile zombie’s mouth. The zombie turned into a human.

"I’m alive!" The human yelled.

"Fifty days," Solas said, as he eyed Doran with mistrust. "We have human soldiers for fifty days."

That was good, I guess. But I honestly didn’t want to be near the zombies when they exploded. Doran was just about to dip his bark-covered finger inside the goo, when Solas snarled:

"Don’t you dare!"

I had never seen him as angry. Doran whipped around, fire in his eyes.

"Why? Do you really care? You killed me!" Doran roared. Oh, it was one thing to make peace with the fact that they were going to be together because Solas was not going to let go.

Another to get the embers which they had before glowing.

"Kids, who wants some cheese?" I asked because I didn’t want my children to look at a shouting match. I gave the Boliarin to Aron, and the Lich to Nate. "Come on, family! Cheese time!"

Because if there was something that my two babies loved more than Death and Domination, as they liked to repeat, it was cheese.

"Were you smoking those awful cigars just to leave me?" Solas roared, as the five of us rushed out of the clearing and back to the cooking area.

Drama... not even once.

0000

Now that I knew that I had turned the dead into slaves, I couldn’t bring myself to cook more food.

I mean, why should I?

The strange black goo, or tar, or whatever the thing that was left over after the explosion of the zombie was, seemed to be doing a good enough job.

The camp was full of humans once more. There wasn’t a zombie to be found. The vampires looked so, as if they were going to be killed at the drop of a hat.

The giants, of which Solas had only three, the zombie variety, looked out of place trying to get into the Mammoth Graveyard.

Probably searching for cheese.

And then there was the dragon.

Aleric looked like a young man. He wasn’t happy with me. I had taken his freedom away. And turned him into a dragon to rival Brandon Fireshield.

Because, in my desire to stop king Alexios from killing us all, I had turned Aleric into a boss mob. The Final Boss Mob.

"Cute kids," Aleric said, nodding at Blonde #1 and Blonde #2. "What are their names?"

I looked at my babies, as they were crushing beetles. I had no idea where they even found them.

I wanted to give them nice names. Names that meant sunshine and flowers. I was a nymph, after all. My children should have nice names.

Blonde #1, or better known as the Boliarin, ate the remains of his beetle, licked his lips, and then began to eye his brother’s beetle.

"Mordred and Mortimer," I said. What? They were both blonde! And, besides, I did not kid myself. They were babies, but they were going to fight in a war.

And there was another thing. Both of them were dungeon made. And dungeons made mobs grew up faster.

"Who’s who?" Aleric threw me another curveball. I looked at my sons.

Now, I preferred the Boliarin. Maybe because he was Aron’s son, or so I believed. But... my Lich son had dimples!

"He is Mordred," I said, as I pointed at the Boliarin, who hiccupped, and then ended up looking like a five-year-old. Oh, how fast children grow! Soon he will look about his father’s age and drink from goblets made out of skulls! "And he is Mortimer."

My Lich son looked at me, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes," I told him because I did not fear him. My sandal had his name on it if he chose to be difficult. "I have the full right to call you Morty, if I wish it."

Morty ate the remains of his own beetle, hiccupped, and then looked like a five-year-old as well.

The challenge in his eyes clear.

But I was unphased. For my sandals were already in my hands. After all, he was five now!

But first!

"Who wants more cheese?" I asked, my sons smiled.

Ah, cheese! The world is a brighter place with you in it!