Dungeon? This Tree? Why Don't You Join Me for Lunch? (Dungeon Core)
Chapter 60: Vampire vs. Boliarin!

Chapter 60: Chapter 60: Vampire vs. Boliarin!

I could see how Aron wanted to suck Grannie Almira dry. The Old Girl was swaying on her feet, but she had a harsh look in her eyes.

Aron finally got his fangs out, even though he didn’t let go of her wrist.

"Look here you! The lady gave you enough! Move on!" I could hear how Nate was fighting with all that he had. I narrowed my eyes as Aron let out a growl.

Only for Grannie Almira to hit him over the head.

"Kill any of us, and you’ll get what’s coming to you!" Her voice was like thunder. Her hand slapped the vampire on the head once more.

"Come on, Aron! The woman is family! It’s Grannie Almira! Sylvan told us about her, remember? She taught him how to make tasty baked potatoes!"

Which was even the truth!

Grannie Almira’s baked potatoes were no different from the standard recipe. But, darn, after she seasoned them, they were pretty neat!

And my idea to fry them afterward, in my own cow’s butter, about which I had already spoken, made them even tastier!

Aron let out a whimper and finally let go. Huh. I hadn’t thought that Nate had it in him to use kindness as a weapon.

It was a strange world we lived in.

"Ok," I said because something had to be done. Just the thought that Anne would end up with her wrist punctured made me sick.

The little girl was no Grannie Almira! She had little blood.

Or so I thought.

"Only those who volunteer will give blood," I hoped that Anne wouldn’t want to save the villagers once more.

And when she didn’t step forward and tugged at a kid who tried to do the opposite, I was proud of her.

There was nothing better than to know that the person you value valued themselves and others who were similar to them.

It spoke volumes to me that, while she didn’t raise her voice against feeding Aron, she didn’t let any of the children do so, either.

She was going to be fine, that little ball of sunshine.

"Ok, I’m next!" Bob was about as tiny as Aron’s arm. I began to shake my head. He leveled me with a glare. "What? Am I not good enough for your man?"

That sentence also had a double meaning, but I just stepped to the side.

Bob was a proud man, even if he was a gnome. And the fact that he was proud in the face of a dungeon core made me respect him even more.

Aron bowed to him, but I thought that it was Nate, rather than the vampire.

Bob offered his wrist. I noticed that he was holding something in his hand.

"Bob, what’s that?" Now, I had no thoughts about him holding garlic or anything of the sort. Not only was it going to be useless against Aron, but it might also piss him off.

"Cotton with alcohol. For afterward," Bob told me with gritted teeth.

Oh.

I didn’t think of that.

I looked at Grannie Almira, who was already cleaning the bite wound.

"Didn’t you ever clean the wounds?" Bob continued. Was he trying to distract himself from the pain? Wasn’t Aron making it all numb?

"Nate, what’s happening?" I asked, looking into Aron’s shining red eyes.

I heard Nate’s sleeping body let out a groan. Man, this was beyond weird!

"He likes the gnome’s blood," Nate’s voice came so, as if his mouth was full of water, but he was still trying to talk. "I am trying to make him let go, but he doesn’t want to! Darn him!"

I balled my fists. No! I couldn’t lose Bob like that!

From the corner of my eyes, I could see that some of the people who had stepped forward were now stepping back.

Anne was shaking.

"Aron!" I roared because yes, he was hungry. Starving even! But that didn’t mean he had the right to take a life! "Don’t you dare! Let him go! No more gnomes for..."

He did what I told him to.

Only to crash over me the next second. Toppling us both on the ground. There we were, surrounded by humans and gnomes, and he was drinking from my neck.

"Darn you!" I heard it from Nate’s body. He was trying to reign Aron in.

At first, it was the numbness. I even hugged Aron. Ready to give him as much blood as he needed.

But then... fire.

I was a nymph. Fire and wood do not mix well together.

I began to scream.

Aron loved me, I tried to tell myself, as he was draining my dungeon core of its mana. Aron cares for me

, I yelled through gritted teeth, even though I didn’t realize it at the time.

Something Nate told me later.

But as I finally felt a coldness, I couldn’t stand it anymore.

Because as much as I loved Aron, I loved myself as well. Some people would say that it was a wretched thing to say.

The stories, the love stories which moved hearts and even brought one to tears, end with one of the lovers dying.

With the other moving on. Feeling empty. Sitting by a grave.

I was not a love story.

I was Sylvan the Nymph. My greatest passion was cooking. My weapon of choice: a frying pan!

I clobbered Aron mercilessly.

Edda was giving me Pan’s mana, who was yelling about celibacy for some reason.

I didn’t care. Aron was not letting go!

"Nate!" I yelled, as Aron began to dig his claws into me. "Is his skull out of titanium?"

It was a strange thing to ask, but I was lightheaded and ready to die kicking and screaming.

"Not from the inside," Nate chirped.

Yes, chirped.

Seconds before he zapped Aron with necromantic mana straight into the brain.

I kept silent for an entire minute. I owed it to Aron.

And then...

"Bunny-bun?" Aron’s whisper was like the first snowflake of winter! Right before it gets cold and nasty.

And dark.

I hit him over the head with the frying pan once more.

Still mad at him...