Live Dungeon! – Chapter 26, The Cost of Dragon Form

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Translator: invichan

Editor: Silavin

Translator (December 11, 2024 Version): Barnnn

 

“<<Heal>>, <<Haste>>.” Tsutomu murmured the incantation softly, directing a blast of healing energy toward Garm’s side, soothing the deep bruises from the Orcs’ brutal strikes. As Camille’s speed bost began to fade, he quickly renewed it with a fresh casting. Hovering high above the battlefield on the power of a <<Fly>> spell, he surveyed the chaos below, his gaze sharp as it tracked the scattered Colorless Magic Stones strewn across the ground.

 

The overhead vantage point reminded him of the game’s top-down perspective, though the control felt more tangible now. Without any airborne threats like Wyverns, he had free rein to support his team from above — an ideal position to guide their movements and strike where needed.

 

He checked his pocket watch and grimaced; they’d been locked in combat for nearly an hour. The monsters were finally thinning out, their numbers dwindling into something more manageable. He exhaled heavily, relieved but fatigued as the battle slowly turned in their favor.

 

After hunting Charge Sheep to collect valuable Lightning Magic Stones, they’d unexpectedly stumbled upon a Black Gate. Fortuitous as it seemed at first, the Gate had led them to a precarious cliffside where a band of six Orcs lay in ambush — close enough to make out the crude designs of their axes and bows. The fight erupted instantly.

 

Soon, the battle drew in even more foes: Kungfu-garoos with their muscular kangaroo forms that excelled in close combat, and Wyverns diving in with ruthless strikes. Pinned near the cliff’s edge, they were forced to reposition mid-fight. When another Orc group happened upon them, any semblance of strategy quickly unraveled.

 

Garm bore the brunt of the melee, his silver armor battered and punctured with jagged holes, his tower shield dented and studded with Wyvern spikes. Camille fared better, her equipment holding up — until her <<Dragon Form>> finally wore off, leaving her exhausted. She struggled to swing her greatsword with her usual force.

 

Finally, when the last Orc fell and turned into a Magic Stone, Garm and Camille sank to the ground, exhausted. Tsutomu floated down beside them.

 

He sighed as he looked over the weary team. With so many foes, they’d been forced to spread the Tanking burden; not only Garm, but also Tsutomu and Camille had taken a heavy toll.

 

Tsutomu couldn’t help but think how much smoother it might have gone with just one more Tank or Attacker. [If only Amy had been here,] he thought, but he knew that if she was, Camille wouldn’t be, so they’d still be in a similar bind.

 

[Man, I hope Amy’s all right…]

 

According to Garm, Amy had stormed into Solit Company’s headquarters the morning that damning article was published. She’d been detained by the city’s Security Team, with Solit framing the intrusion as though Tsutomu had somehow orchestrated it. He could only laugh in disbelief at the absurdity.

 

He’d been barred from visiting Amy until her release, though word had it that Solit hadn’t pressed charges and the Security Team hadn’t taken further action. The Deputy Guild Master had reassured him that she’d be released soon, yet he couldn’t shake his anxiety.

 

[That man looks like he’s got his own mountain of troubles,] he thought, as he draped towels over the resting Garm and Camille and began to gather the fallen Magic Stones.

 

The image of the Deputy Guild Master came to mind — a weary, middle-aged man who looked every inch the overworked Japanese salaryman. With the Guild Master absent, he had taken on double the responsibilities, his face thinning as he was spread thinner and thinner. Recently, he’d managed to delegate some of his duties, but even so, the ongoing negotiations with Solit over the article corrections seemed to be dragging on without end.

 

Currently, only three newspaper publishers held the exclusive right to report on Dungeon matters — a privilege granted by the nobles who oversaw Dungeon City. Solit Company had been the first to acquire this right, and with little real competition from the other papers, it had effectively seized a monopoly over the market.

 

The revenue from newspaper sales, printing services, and town events was immense, and this success gave Solit not only significant influence over the city’s public opinion but also close connections with major Clans and popular Explorers. Where once they had stood on even ground with the Guild, Solit now held the upper hand.

 

This dominant position had made Solit uncompromising when it came to article corrections, especially regarding any piece on Tsutomu’s “Lucky Boy” moniker. They’d occasionally issued minor corrections for small errors, like misspelled terms, but rarely ever revised the content itself or issued a public apology.

 

And if they did consider an apology, it would only be for a well-known Explorer — not some so-called “Lucky Boy” who had managed to survive a few Shell Crab battles. A retraction wouldn’t just hurt Solit’s pride; it would hand their rivals a rare opportunity to exploit, something they had no intention of risking.

 

To make matters worse, Solit was now contesting the report of Amy’s so-called “assault,” as the Deputy had informed Tsutomu. Out of sympathy for the Deputy, Tsutomu had offered to put Camille back in the Guild Master’s chair, but the man had practically begged him to keep her, bowing his head in thanks. Camille, it seemed, had caused her share of trouble before, and Tsutomu suspected she might be every bit as explosive as Amy.

 

[If we manage to pull off this Fire Dragon hunt, that could tip the scales in negotiations… Solit Company won’t want one of the other papers covering that victory before they do.]

 

Tsutomu knew that if they managed to defeat the Fire Dragon as a trio on the first try, his reputation would rise dramatically. Success on the first attempt was crucial. With that in mind, he decided it was time for a quick review session. After finishing the task of collecting Magic Stones, he turned to his teammates.

 

“Good job out there. How are you both holding up?”

 

“Somehow… managing…” came Camille’s muffled response.

 

Still lying face-down with a towel draped over her head, her red hair damp with sweat clinging to her neck, Camille looked utterly drained. Tsutomu had never seen her so spent before, but he pressed on.

 

“I think we’ve cleared out most of the monsters nearby. I’d like to head back for today, but, well… I seem to have lost track of the Black Gate’s location…”

 

Their fight had scattered them far from the original exit point, and with all the chaos, Tsutomu had completely lost his bearings.

 

“Maybe we should try finding a Safe Zone instead?”

 

“Yeah… that sounds like a plan…”

 

“I’ll scout ahead. Garm, I’ll leave my bag here. If any monsters show up, feel free to use the Potions!”

 

“I should go with–”

 

“I’ll be fine. I went over Safe Zone locations in both the briefing and the broadcasts.”

 

Shrugging off his Magic Bag, he offered Camille a hand, helping her unsteadily to her feet. Her grip was hot, nearly feverish, and damp with sweat.

 

With a reassuring nod, he passed the responsibility of keeping watch to Garm, then took to the air, gliding off in search of the nearest Safe Zone. Fortune favored him; a small cave entrance stood nearby along the cliffside, matching a Safe Zone description perfectly. After confirming it was unoccupied, he hurried back.

 

When he returned, Garm stood with his arms crossed, Tsutomu’s Magic Bag slung over one shoulder, while Camille lay sprawled on the ground.

 

“Safe Zone’s close by,” Tsutomu reported urgently.

 

Garm’s face was grim as he spoke. “Miss Camille… she’s slipping in and out of consciousness.”

 

“What!?”

 

Alarmed, Tsutomu dropped to his knees beside her. Camille’s breathing was labored, and her cheeks were flushed with a concerning shade of red.

 

“We need to get her to the Safe Zone — now!”

 

“…Understood.”

 

Garm’s reply was subdued, carrying an odd tension that made Tsutomu pause, but there was no time to ponder it. He lifted Camille’s feverish, limp form onto his back and hurried toward the cave. Inside, he spread out a Slime mat on the floor and carefully set her down, rolling a portion into a pillow to raise her head.

 

Camille’s skin was burning hot, and sweat soaked her brow.

 

[Could her condition have been caused by the strain of her recent <<Dragon Form>> transformation?]

 

Tsutomu had watched her take on that form many times, but he’d never seen her collapse afterward. Keeping his focus on her immediate needs, he cast <<Heal>> and <<Medic>> in quick succession, then pulled out a towel, a wooden bucket, and a magic tool for producing drinking water from his Magic Bag.

 

He activated the device, filled the bucket with fresh water, and added a high-quality Ice Magic Stone he’d bought impulsively. As he stirred the water to cool it down, he loosened her red leather armor and began to dab her forehead, neck, underarms, and thighs with the chilled cloth, hoping to bring her fever down.

 

“Garm. Could you fan her with this?”

 

“Of course.”

 

With a slight frown, Garm took the fan Tsutomu offered and began waving it steadily over Camille. Meanwhile, Tsutomu, kneeling beside her, continued cooling the cloths, alternating them with <<Heal>> and <<Medic>> castings to ease her symptoms, all while taking sips from Blue Potion vials to maintain his mental energy level.

 

After fifteen long minutes, her breathing became steadier, and her fever began to subside. Relieved, Tsutomu wiped her face with a fresh towel and smiled as her color gradually returned.

 

“Looks like she’s stabilizing. That’s a relief.”

 

“…Yes.”

 

Garm’s gaze lingered on the magic tool Tsutomu had set out, his expression unreadable, though he softened when he noticed Tsutomu’s look of relief. Moments later, Camille began to move, her eyelids fluttering open.

 

“…Ah,” she murmured faintly.

 

“You’re finally awake. Here, try to drink some water,” Tsutomu said, gently holding a cup of cool water to her lips.

 

Camille took a few slow sips, her eyes focusing as her strength returned. He poured her another cup, which she accepted with a weak smile.

 

“Think you can drink it yourself now?”

 

“…Not yet. Sorry, but can you keep helping?”

 

“Of course.”

 

He carefully held the cup to her lips again. Camille chuckled softly, shaking her head.

 

“Wouldn’t it be more romantic if you fed me mouth-to-mouth?”

 

“……”

 

“Heh, worth a shot.”

 

With a sigh, Tsutomu handed her the cup. Camille raised herself slightly and took a few small sips on her own.

 

“Ah — watch it!” he said, quickly turning away as she adjusted herself, her loosened leather armor slipping down to reveal her black undershirt and its subtle curves.

 

“What? You’re the one who loosened it,” she teased, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Besides, I’ve noticed you always gaze so intently at my back, don’t you?”

 

“I-I was only wondering what happens to your wings when the <<Dragon Form>> disengages.”

 

“…That’s my little secret.”

 

Tsutomu offered her a piece of salted candy, which she accepted, savoring it with a grateful nod. He gave Garm one as well, and Garm’s tail began to wag gently from side to side.

 

“Feeling better now?” Tsutomu asked, turning his attention back to Camille.

 

“Yeah… although, for a moment there, I thought I was done for.”

 

Camille looked around the cave, her gaze falling on the scattered empty vials, the mat, and the magic tool with the Ice Magic Stone still cooling the water. Her eyes narrowed, locking onto Tsutomu with a questioning look.

 

“The Ice Magic Stone… and all those Potions… What exactly were you doing?”

 

“…Huh?”

 

Camille’s sharp gaze seemed to pin Tsutomu in place, his hands fumbling with the straps of his Magic Bag.

 

“You should’ve just let me die and salvaged my gear. Would’ve spared you a lot of trouble.”

 

“Oh… I see.”

 

The weight of Camille’s words settled over Tsutomu. It made sense — had he allowed her to fall, he could’ve recovered her equipment and returned without spending a small fortune on supplies.

 

“Garm, is that how you feel too?” Tsutomu asked, turning to him.

 

“…Actually, yes.”

 

Garm nodded slowly. Were he in Camille’s position, he would’ve thought the same. After all, with the possibility of revival, there was less reason to pour resources into survival.

 

“But you wouldn’t be Tsutomu if you thought that way, would you? Always the stubborn one,” Garm said with a faint smile.

 

“You know me so well,” Tsutomu replied, grinning as he awkwardly extended his hand for a high-five, which Garm returned with hesitant amusement.

 

“Anyway, that’s how I see it.”

 

Camille raised an eyebrow. “Well, I still don’t get it. ‘How’ do you see ‘what,’ exactly?”

 

With a heavy sigh, Tsutomu paused, choosing his words carefully before meeting her steady gaze.

 

“Well… let’s just say I’m not a fan of pain. You know I insist on updating my Status Card needle-free, right?”

 

“Yeah, you’re kind of famous for that.”

 

“So naturally, I’m not in a rush to experience dying. Maybe it doesn’t faze you both, but I’m pretty eager to avoid going through THAT again.”

 

The memory of his first and only death flickered through his mind — the searing, corrosive breath of the Corroded Elder Dragon and the agonizing dissolution of his flesh within the flood of acid. It was an experience he’d gladly leave behind.

 

“That’s why I don’t mind spending money to keep us all going. If you’re out of commission, Camille, my chances of making it plummet, too. Keeping you alive keeps me alive — it’s really that simple. Think of yourself as my shield, if that makes you feel any better.”

 

“I thought that was my job,” Garm interjected.

 

“Oh, right. Sorry — not my shield. I guess you’re more of a spear…? Sword?” Tsutomu quickly nodded to Garm in acknowledgment before pressing on. “But yeah, if you fall, Camille, sooner or later I’ll pay for it too. So I’m willing to spend the resources to keep you alive.”

 

“…Are you sure you’re cut out for this Explorer career, Tsutomu?” Camille’s skeptical smile softened her gaze.

 

“Haha, probably not. If I’d had any choice, I would’ve retired the moment I sold my Black Staff. But I can’t deny that, for all the dangers, there’s something about this life I’ve come to enjoy.”

 

Even with the hope of one day returning to Earth, Tsutomu couldn’t imagine abandoning dungeoneering. He wasn’t fond of the danger, he liked the Dungeon — and knowing he could revive made it bearable. It was an odd balance between fear and excitement.

 

“So, yeah, that’s ‘how’ I see ‘it.'”

 

“…You’re afraid of dying, then,” Camille murmured. “I left that feeling behind a long time ago.” A wry chuckle escaped her. She’d lost count of her own deaths in the Dungeon; somewhere around her hundredth, the tally had stopped mattering. “But you know, I thought you might say something dramatic like, ‘I couldn’t stand to see you suffer! No cost is too high!’ I would’ve enjoyed that,” she teased.

 

“Yeah, you won’t get that from me. I don’t mind spending resources, but I’d do the same for Garm. It’s a Healer’s job to treat everyone equally.”

 

Tsutomu remembered his early Live Dungeon days, running his own Clan as a Healer, having seen plenty of “landmine Healers” who showed favoritism, lavishing certain members with expensive items. He had learned then that playing favorites only caused trouble, and he had no intention of following that path.

 

“Hehehe… Is that so?” Camille replied with a small smirk.

 

“Anyway,” Tsutomu continued, “are you feeling up to moving?”

 

“Yeah, I’m actually feeling better than before, somehow.”

 

“Good. Your armor took quite the beating, though — Let’s head back before it falls apart completely.”

 

“Hey, Tsutomu.”

 

As he turned to stand, Camille reached out, catching him in a brief embrace. He froze in surprise, his thoughts scrambling, but she had already let go before he could react.

 

“Thank you. Truly,” she said, her eyes bright with warmth and gratitude.

 

Tsutomu felt his cheeks flush as he stared back, fumbling for a response before managing a shaky, “Y-you’re welcome.”

 

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Silavin: Not sure how regular the releases will be for this novel. The translator seems to have a chronic illness so :/.

 

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