Dungeon? This Tree? Why Don't You Join Me for Lunch? (Dungeon Core)
Chapter 69: How Are You With Children…?

Chapter 69: Chapter 69: How Are You With Children...?

Now, when Nate said that the cake should not smell burned, I honestly didn’t think I knew what he meant.

I mean, I had never so much as boiled quinoa before, much less attempted to make a cake out of it.

And yet, both Desmond and I were staring deeply into the oven’s glass door. As the cake rose and became like a typical cake’s layer.

It was strange, in a way.

It even smelt nice. Not as nice as real cake, but that was something Desmond couldn’t eat.

And we were to be married! I just wanted to ease him into it. Because as he was now, he was just a ball of anger.

And I had children! That simply couldn’t fly!

"Desmond, you do know I have two sons," I began, as I nudged him. Hm... the cake was beginning to brown a bit too much. I used the rune so that it could get heating only from the lower side, and not so much on the upper one.

Ah, if I ever found my secret admirer, I was going to make sure he entered the harem!

Because he loved me. No one who spent so much on foodie runes could do it without wanting one of two things: food... or bed sport.

Even a drake like me knew that.

"Yes. I even know you have countless grandsons and granddaughters whose names you don’t even know," he eyed me so, as if I was supposed to feel shame over it.

"Those are mobs," but if there was one thing I had learned after the cries of said grandchildren had threatened to madden my children, it was, that mobs were mobs.

For me, those Boliari and Lich were no different from the golem mobs.

And I was not going to start celebrating golem birthdays, darn it!

Speaking of...

"Edda," it was time I started to rebuild. There were few things that were more dangerous for a dungeon than the lack of mobs.

An Archdemon attacking you. Or a hero from another world deciding that he wanted to create a tavern where you stood.

Those were the biggest dangers of our day and age.

What was with all of them heroes and their taverns, hotels, hostels, bed and breakfast...?

Wait a second!

"I can turn the Forest of Forget-Me-Nots into a Bed and Breakfast!"

Desmond chuckled so, as if he thought it was one big joke. He wanted me, but he didn’t know me.

He didn’t know, but he would learn that when it came to feeding people, I was dead serious!

"Ok, how much money would you need for the buildings?" Nate asked, already taking out a notebook.

"I will help with the sum as well," Aron also took out a notebook.

"This is the Tree of Memories Dungeon!" I didn’t want no sugar daddies, thank you very much!

I was a mature, independent, nymph!

There was no way in hell I’d take their money!

"I have golems! They will build tree houses in the trees which survived the storm!" In my mind, the idea had merit. After all, who didn’t want to live in a kick-ass tree house? "And I will have the dead trees be used to create wood cabins!"

Which, to be fair, was cold of me. I should really let nature bury those trees by using them to pave the way for new ones.

But I was a dungeon core now! I had to think like a businessman!

"You do know that if you do that," Nate began, amusement clear to be heard in his voice. "Then your arguments that tourists are the worst thing in the world would be invalid?"

"They are!" And I could prove it, too! "They want souvenirs! I want to survive!"

I was up on my feet, the cake forgotten. Nate was by my side seconds later.

I didn’t know when, but he wrapped his arms around me. I took a deep breath.

"I don’t want to die," I whispered. I was old, but my life had been meaningless until now.

Oh, sure, I hadn’t known it.

Before I had Methuselah to look after and my shrubs. Then the Old Girl and Grumpy Pants and the Dead Tree, as I liked to call it.

But now I had a family! And my tree was called the Tree of Memories!

If I died, who was going to make those memories?

Who was going to teach Mordred how to cook? Who was going to tell Morty no, when he tried to get someone to stitch him a corset together?

Who was going to teach Desmond that cake was not evil, bend on poisoning him or making him live in a bathroom?

Who was going to make Nate into a better person? At least, one who didn’t want to play mind games anymore?

Who was going to teach Aron that he meant the world to us all? That he mattered?

Who was going to teach me how to live?

The last question caught me unawares. I blinked. Who?

Nate was! And Aron! And Desmond, of course, once he got over his anger issue!

And the kids, even if they were undead!

"I will live!" I proclaimed because I refused to prepare to die just because the storm had killed off some trees, but mine had survived. "And I will put us first!"

"Sylvan," I heard Aron whisper. I heard as he stood up, as he made his way to us. Soft steps echoing in the cavern. "I love you."

It was the first time he said it. I managed to wiggle out from Nate’s arms enough to smile at him.

"I love you too," I whispered back.

Aron hugged me. His lips locked with mine, as Nate began to play with my earlobe.

The cake forgotten, as my two husbands dragged me to my bedroom and closed the door.

Hours later, as I went out of my room and saw that Desmond was staring at the cake, which was on top of the table and under a paper towel, I feared the worst.

"I trusted my nose," Desmond told me, his nose all scrunched up.

My fingers twitched towards the paper towel, gently taking a hold of it...

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