Live Dungeon! – Chapter 22, Request for Aid

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Translator: TipToe

Translator (November 11, 2024 Version): Barnnn

 

After a long climb along the narrow mountain path, the trio finally reached the Black Gate to the fifty-fourth layer. Passing through, they emerged in a new stretch of rugged mountains and agreed it was time for a break. Tsutomu began unpacking their supplies from his Magic Bag and set to work setting up camp.

 

He spread out a folded mat made of Slime-based material, soft to the touch, cushioning the harsh ground beneath. It had become essential for him — a small luxury that eased the weariness of their exploration. When he told Camille and Garm to go ahead and rest, they slipped off their boots and sank gratefully onto the mat.

 

Garm shrugged off the top half of his silver armor, flapping his sweat-dampened undershirt to catch a little breeze. Camille, meanwhile, sat with her knees hugged to her chest, gently swaying, savoring the mat’s softness beneath her.

 

Tsutomu then took out a magic tool resembling a portable stove, anchoring it into the ground before setting a grill on top. Placing a few Magic Stones into the compartment below, he turned a dial, and a small red flame flickered to life. He placed a pot on the grill to reheat some pot-au-feu, then drew two types of plates from his bag. On a shallow plate, he laid out bread studded with bits of dried fruit that looked like tiny colorful dice.

 

As the pot’s cloudy broth began to heat up, Tsutomu added a few Magic Stone Scraps to control the flame. Once, he would’ve simply paid for pre-cooked meals from an inn, but since moving to the Guild dormitory, he’d taken up cooking himself — and this pot-au-feu was one of his own creations.

 

Suddenly, Garm’s ears twitched. His expression sharpened.

 

“…Footsteps. Two pairs — no, three.”

 

“Ugh, Orcs? Just our luck,” Tsutomu muttered.

 

It was rare to see monsters near a Black Gate — usually the area was safe. Still, on occasion, a stray creature could stumble close by. Tsutomu reached to douse the flame, ready to pack up his precious stove.

 

“No, it’s probably other Explorers. I can hear voices.”

 

Garm’s keen ears twitched again as he listened, and he quietly readied his armor. Tsutomu looked at him in surprise, eyes widening.

 

“Explorers? This close?”

 

Garm nodded. “Yes.”

 

Camille gave a wry smile. “Heh, maybe they’ll mistake us for monsters. We might have to throw hands.”

 

Though they occasionally glimpsed other parties in the Dungeon, most Explorers kept their distance. Only one team could pass through a newly activated Black Gate, which vanished afterward, reappearing elsewhere. So, competition could arise when groups found themselves headed toward the same Gate.

 

Especially in the upper layers, some parties even ambushed weakened groups to steal their Magic Stones or block their access to a Gate, though this type of skirmish faded by the time they reached the thirtieth layer, where the God Eyes’ gazes kept everyone in public view.

 

So why were these Explorers approaching? Tsutomu’s first thought was that they might be trying to lure a monster in their direction. He gripped his White Staff, casting a wary glance toward the rustling bushes.

 

“Hey! You’re Garm, aren’t you?”

 

A gruff voice cut through the silence. From the trees emerged a rugged-looking human man with a scruffy beard, armored like Garm. On his back, he carried a red-feathered Birdkin woman, blood trickling from her leather armor. Another Birdkin woman followed, her arms streaked with bright blue feathers. She brushed back her short, wild blue hair and gave a small, soft smile upon spotting Garm — only for her expression to shift into shock as her gaze fell on Tsutomu.

 

Garm’s expression stayed tense, arms crossed as he eyed the man with a wary gaze, clearly not recognizing him.

 

“And who might you be?”

 

“Misil, leader of the Silver Beast Clan.”

 

Tsutomu recognized the name — they were considered a reputable mid-tier Clan, known for battling the Dungeon’s fiftieth layer and beyond with a Birdkin-centric party as their main force. He had seen them on some double-digit Monitors, taking on the Dungeon’s more challenging biomes with groups largely composed of Demi-humans.

 

Garm, recognizing the name as well, relaxed his guard slightly, uncrossing his arms.

 

“What do you want? …Though, I have a feeling I can guess.”

 

Misil’s expression softened to one of appeal. “Our Healer and luggage carrier are down, and this girl’s in bad shape,” he admitted, nodding toward the injured Birdkin on his back. “We’d planned to retreat, but with her injuries, reaching our return Gate would be next to impossible. I’m willing to give you all the Magic Stones we’ve collected — just, please, help us.”

 

“Understood. Give me a moment to ask our party leader.” Garm turned to Tsutomu. “Tsutomu, if it’s feasible, I’d like to assist them. What do you think?”

 

Tsutomu looked at Misil, noting the strain in his eyes and the earnest tilt of his posture. Behind him, Camille gave an approving nod from where she lounged on the mat.

 

But as the seconds ticked by, Misil’s face shifted, the faint frown deepening. Only now did he seem to register that Garm’s leader was none other than Tsutomu — the notorious “Lucky Boy” who’d supposedly openly scorned Amy. A flash of hesitation crossed his face. Had Garm, with all his principles and sense of honor, really chosen to serve under such a man? Misil wondered if something was holding Garm back, some secret that kept him loyal despite it all.

 

If that was the case, who knew what other leverage “Lucky Boy” might have? Misil glanced warily at Camille, who seemed oblivious, gazing off into the distance as if none of this concerned her. Conspiracies flickered through his mind. Did Tsutomu hold information that could even keep the Guild Master in check?

 

And what might Tsutomu demand in return for his aid? Misil’s thoughts drifted to Amy’s past dealings with him. If Tsutomu attempted anything exploitative or demanded some unspeakable price, Misil decided he’d refuse — even if it meant risking a desperate escape back to the Gate.

 

But Tsutomu, oblivious to Misil’s mounting anxiety, paused only briefly before giving a simple nod.

 

“All right. Let’s start by treating her wounds. I’d rather not let anyone die here — it’s draining enough just to heal someone normally.”

 

The <<Raise>> skill could revive a person within three minutes of death but required enormous mental energy.

 

“…I owe you,” Misil replied quietly.

 

The red-feathered Birdkin was lowered onto the ground, her leather armor soaked with blood from a brutal wound in her side, the ragged tear exposing how close she’d come to death in some recent fight.

 

Tsutomu thought he’d grown used to scenes like this, after all those hours of watching battles play out on the Monitors. But seeing it up close was different. Swallowing the bitter taste of nerves rising in his throat, he turned to Misil.

 

“Is this her only injury?”

 

“No — her leg’s broken too. But that’s all.”

 

Tsutomu glanced at the red-feathered Birdkin’s yellow bird-like leg, which had twisted painfully out of place. He exhaled, calculating his approach as he raised his White Staff.

 

“Understood. All right… umm, you — the blue-feathered Birdkin — could you roll up the belly part of her armor? And carefully set the leg back into position.”

 

The blue Birdkin, wide-eyed and tense, nodded. She gently rolled up her companion’s leather armor and maneuvered the broken leg until it lay in its natural angle. A small, strangled noise escaped the red-feathered Birdkin as she trembled from the pain. With the injury fully revealed, Tsutomu assessed her condition, then focused his staff and activated his skills.

 

He began with <<Medic>> to clear any hidden status ailments, then cast <<High Heal>> to seal the wound. To his relief, <<High Heal>> appeared to fully mend the leg as well. He added an extra <<Heal>> to her entire body, ensuring every trace of injury was erased. Gradually, the Birdkin’s eyes fluttered open, her complexion brightening as she looked around. Misil laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

 

“Huh? Are we… not at the Guild?”

 

“He’s the one who saved you,” Misil told her, nodding toward Tsutomu.

 

The red Birdkin looked up at him with a weak smile. “Oh. Thank… you.”

 

Their eyes met briefly, and Tsutomu returned her thanks with a quiet nod. The other Birdkin and Misil moved protectively around their friend, watching Tsutomu with careful eyes.

 

“We’re about to stop for lunch,” Camille offered, interrupting them. “Have you all eaten yet? If not, you’re welcome to join us. We’ve got plenty of food.”

 

She had been warming the pot-au-feu over the magic stove.

 

After a moment’s hesitation, the three Silver Beast members exchanged glances, then nodded in thanks, bowing before settling beside them.

 

In the cool forest air, the rich, steaming pot-au-feu provided much-needed warmth and comfort. Misil, more accustomed to the dry bread and jerky typical of exploration rations, finished his bowl almost in an instant.

 

“This is incredible. Nothing compares to a hot meal out here.”

 

“Glad to hear it,” Tsutomu replied, smiling. “Want seconds?”

 

“…If it’s not too much trouble.”

 

“Not at all. It’s good to see someone enjoy it so much. My team usually just eats in silence.”

 

Garm, who had been quietly eating, glanced up at this and set down his bowl.

 

“…Tsutomu, it’s good.”

 

“Oh, so you CAN give feedback,” Tsutomu teased.

 

“Tsutomu, got more for me too?” Camille asked.

 

Tsutomu gave a small nod, and proceeded to refill Camille’s bowl. The two Birdkin, still a bit shy, held out their bowls as well. They made quick work of their second helpings, finishing off the bread studded with dried fruits in just a few bites.

 

Watching Tsutomu, Garm, and Camille proceeding to chat so freely, Misil couldn’t help but reconsider his earlier doubts. Could it be that Tsutomu wasn’t wielding some hidden leverage over them? He left his musings unspoken, deciding this wasn’t the time to pry.

 

After everyone finished, Tsutomu rinsed the bowls, packed them neatly in a special pouch, and stowed them in his Magic Bag. He then took the mat, which Garm had carefully folded, and packed that away too.

 

“All right,” he said, turning to Misil. “Shall we head to the Black Gate you came from? Where is it?”

 

“Just down the mountain a bit,” Misil replied. “Not too far. We’ll handle most of the fighting, but if there are too many, I’d appreciate some support.”

 

Tsutomu knew it would be tough to sync their movements on the first time together, so he agreed to let them fight independently, only assisting as needed.

 

“Understood. I’ll support with <<Protect>> and stuff depending on the situation, so don’t worry too much about my positioning.”

 

“Got it. Thanks.”

 

Together, the members of Silver Beast and Tsutomu’s team — six in all — began their descent. Before long, the scent of blood drew monsters from the forest — a group of five Orcs, each wielding crude weapons. Misil drew a kukri from his belt, while the two Birdkin leaped into the trees to gain the high ground.

 

Tsutomu quickly cast <<Protect>> on the Silver Beast members, the spell’s earthy-yellow energy spheres hitting them. Misil felt the energy ripple across his back; though he nearly turned to look, he kept his focus locked on the Orc advancing toward him.

 

Standing over two meters tall, the Orcs wielded a brute strength capable of crushing a normal person’s skull with a single blow. Yet against seasoned Explorers with high VIT, such an impact would only leave a bruise. Misil lunged at the club-wielding Orc.

 

“<<Fatal Blade>>.”

 

With the utterance, Misil’s kukri flashed, slicing through the Orc’s wooden cudgel as if it were paper. The blade drove straight into the creature’s chest, and with a twist, he widened the wound, releasing a harsh spray of blue blood. As he withdrew his blade, a pair of shadows passed overhead.

 

“<<Feather Dance>>.”

 

The Birdkin duo swooped from the branches above, unleashing a storm of feathered darts that sliced through the air like needles. The Orcs raised their thick arms to shield their faces, and Misil slipped forward, his kukri severing the tendons in their legs with surgical precision.

 

The Orcs dropped to their knees, and Misil’s blade swept cleanly across their throats, sending blue blood spilling onto the grass. Tsutomu watched, taken by the effortless skill in Misil’s movements.

 

With practiced efficiency, as if he were gutting fish, Misil dispatched the fallen Orcs, each one collapsing into scattered Magic Stones as they hit the ground.

 

“To the east — two Red Grizzlies. To the north — one Earth Boar. If this keeps up, we might see Verdant Wolves as well,” Tsutomu called out, scanning the surroundings. Monsters, drawn by the scent of blood, were converging from all directions.

 

Misil gave a sharp nod and turned toward the Earth Boar, while the Birdkin darted from branch to branch, skillfully distracting the Red Grizzlies with raking talon strikes.

 

The Earth Boar launched two tusks from either side of its snout, aimed at Misil like earthen missiles. He sidestepped one and batted down the other, then charged at the boar again.

 

The Earth Boar’s tusks were dangerous weapons at both long and short ranges, so he planned to finish the creature off before they could fully regrow.

 

“<<Double Attack>>.”

 

Misil’s kukri moved in a blur as the skill — a stable of lightweight warrior-type Jobs — sent two swift cuts across the boar’s cheeks, leaving deep furrows and forcing it to reel.

 

As he poised for a final strike, a flash of green lunged at him from the side — a Verdant Wolf.

 

The impact knocked Misil to the ground. The wolf’s fangs pierced through his thick leather glove, pinning his wrist to the earth and sending his kukri clattering away. The wolf snarled, its jaws tightening as it shook his arm violently.

 

Misil kept silent, his face taut with pain, as he forced his injured hand deeper into the wolf’s mouth, pushing his fingers past its teeth and down its throat. The creature gagged, its bite slackening, and Misil seized the moment. With his free hand, he struck the wolf’s temple in a brutal punch that sent it yelping back.

 

He rolled to his side just as the Earth Boar launched another tusk, which whizzed past him and tore a hole through the tall grass, embedding itself into the ground with a thud.

 

Misil glanced at his right hand, now crushed and unusable. With a swift kick, he sent his fallen kukri flying up and caught it in his left hand, ready to finish the wolf off. But before he could strike, a pulse of green energy flowed into his mangled hand.

 

The pain ebbed instantly — Tsutomu’s healing skill was at work. Regaining his composure, Misil advanced on the Verdant Wolf, now staggering from his blow. He drove his kukri deep into its skull, and with a final strangled whimper, the creature burst into a scattering of light.

 

Testing his right hand, now fully healed, Misil switched the kukri back into his dominant grip and focused his attention on the Earth Boar. He was aware that Garm and Camille had gone to assist with the Red Grizzlies, which were currently engaged in a clash with a pack of Verdant Wolves, creating a three-way fight. Confident in their abilities, he turned his full concentration to his own quarry.

 

Just as the boar’s tusks finished regrowing, Misil launched a <<Double Attack>>, carving into its front legs. The boar’s knees buckled under the assault, and he vaulted over its body, driving the kukri straight down into its torso. With a precise twist, he hooked the blade and tore into its heart. The boar attempted a final charge, but its strength faltered, and it collapsed, transforming into a Small Magic Stone.

 

A quick scan of the battlefield revealed that the Red Grizzlies had fallen as well. Misil glanced at his healed hand and then turned to Tsutomu, who stood a short distance away, his White Staff raised.

 

[Did he just cast a long-ranged <<Heal>>? The <<Protect>> were probably long-ranged, too…]

 

Even after seeing just once, Misil could discern the risks of long-range support — misfires could inadvertently empower or heal monsters. Yet as he flexed his restored hand, he realized how effective Tsutomu’s support and recovery skills had proven to be.

 

[If Lorena’s aim is precise, it could be worth it… But I don’t see anyone but Tsutomu pulling this off… I mean, if it were easy, surely someone else would have tried it by now, right?]

 

As the leader of Silver Beast — a Clan he had formed to train and support Demi-human orphans — Misil took his responsibilities seriously, even if his appearance sometimes betrayed a hint of disarray. Though he didn’t spend every free day studying the intricacies of the Dungeon like Tsutomu, he did keep up with the latest developments through live broadcasts and newspapers. Yet, he had never seen support skills deployed from a distance like this, even among mid-tier Clans boasting White Mages.

 

[Well, let’s just have her try it and see how it goes.]

 

Still contemplating this thought, Misil shook his head, resolving to discuss the matter with his Clan’s White Mage when he returned to the Guild.

 

Imagining the girl in question waiting in her simple flaxen clothes, he moved to collect the Magic Stones form before regrouping with the others.

 

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Silavin: We need translators to continue this series. They need to be able to understand Japanese since I’m not skilled enough to vet their work in Japanese. For those interested, do pm me through discord.

 

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