Live Dungeon! – Chapter 9, A Healer’s Usefulness

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Translator: TipToe

Translator (October 3, 2024 Version): Barnnn

 

This day’s descent into the Dungeon began at the fringes of the Swamp — the twenty-first layer — culminating in a confrontation with the Queen Spider, the formidable boss of this biome. As Amy raised her gaze to the intricate webbing that adorned the cave’s ceiling, now empty of its mistress, she deftly wielded her dual blades to sever the strands that clung stubbornly to her body.

 

Light particles, remnants of their victory, drifted lazily in the dim light, casting ethereal shadows upon the cave’s walls. Feeling the lingering tightness in her upper arm where Tsutomu had mended her wounds, she brushed off the last remnants of the web. Nearby, Garm struggled against the silken strands ensnaring his thick, furry tail.

 

Tsutomu approached, cradling a Large Colorless Magic Stone in his hands. He presented it to Amy.

 

“What do you think of this? It’s quite sizable. Should fetch us around 300,000, don’t you think?”

 

“Hmm… it seems pretty low-quality, actually. I’d estimate it’s more like 150,000,” Amy scrutinized the stone, noting its flaws despite its size — cracks spidering across its surface and bubbles marring its interior.

 

At her words, Tsutomu’s expression fell, disappointment washing over him like a cold tide. Labeled a ‘Lucky Boy’ after supposedly discovering the Black Staff in the Dungeon’s first layer, he had nevertheless faced scorn for being a White Mage — an Explorer Job often belittled, even during the Black Staff’s auction. Amy, despite having softened her views since, had once shared in that disdain.

 

The role of a White Mage carried with it an inherent tragedy — resurrecting fallen comrades only to be left vulnerable and alone. Those who cast the <<Raise>> and <<High Heal>> spells often found themselves the prime targets in battle, sacrificing their safety for the sake of others while their companions scrambled to re-equip themselves and rejoin the fray.

 

On the Monitors, the deaths of White Mages were a common spectacle, met with derision by the audience. Few received sponsorships from wealthy merchants or nobles, and fame eluded them. Their livelihoods relied solely on the spoils of the Dungeon, unlike their more celebrated counterparts.

 

Their income stemmed solely from the spoils of the Dungeon, unlike the more diverse earnings of other Explorers. Should they fall in battle, the prospect of recovering their equipment became uncertain at best. While major Clans might offer some form of compensation, the rare treasures unearthed from the Dungeon were irreplaceable, leaving only a hollow monetary recompense in the wake of loss.

 

In her days as a celebrated Dualblader in a prominent Clan, Amy had once felt pity for White Mages, yet there lingered a thread of contempt in her heart; she vowed never to relinquish her pride for the sake of getting paid.

 

Her pity had once extended to Tsutomu — when she had been tasked with guarding him, she had begrudgingly accepted, thinking it a mere diversion. Yet, to her astonishment, they ventured deeper, reaching the fortieth layer against all odds.

 

Now, amidst the aftermath of their skirmish, she began to grasp the wisdom Garm had shared.

 

Tsutomu’s long-range healing — she had previously dismissed this ability as a mere party trick while in the Attacker role, as she hadn’t taken much damage. But now it revealed its profound significance as she assumed the role of Tank.

 

Tsutomu’s ability drastically reduced their reliance on Potions. Green Potions, prized for their instantaneous healing, were in high demand among frontliners, often leading to shortages and inflated prices. In contrast, Blue Potions, used primarily by Black Mages for mental energy restoration, were far cheaper. They were seldom needed unless one was gravely depleted — not to mention the fact that mental energy naturally recovered over time. Amy had discovered this firsthand during her recent visit to the Potion shop after receiving the Medium Magic Stone from Tsutomu.

 

Many Explorers deemed it wasteful to consume a Green Potion for minor wounds, opting instead to fight through the pain or retreat momentarily to take a tiny sip; both paths had their own risks that often led to fatalities within the party.

 

Yet, with Tsutomu’s long-ranged healing, even the slightest injuries could be swiftly mended, allowing her and Garm to remain engaged in battle without pause. Kept constantly at full strength, they could confront the dangers ahead with their chances of survival markedly enhanced.

 

Amy reflected on the folly of her past — enduring pain and fighting on while clutching Potions, only now realizing the ease that this new approach to combat afforded, both physically and mentally. Garm, she suspected, shared her epiphany.

 

During their tenure as rival Explorers in competing Clans, they had battled fiercely to delve into the deepest layers of the Dungeon. Amy often caught glimpses of Garm’s struggles on the Monitors, noting how his condition frequently surpassed her own in its severity.

 

Even with broken bones or ruptured organs, Garm had pressed on, coughing up blood as he swung his sword. It was only when he reached the brink of his endurance that he was allowed the luxury of a Potion. Having endured those harrowing moments, it was no wonder he held Tsutomu in such high regard.

 

“Amy, is your arm still bothering you? It might not be fully healed,” Tsutomu’s concerned voice broke through her thoughts, startling her. She had been unconsciously rubbing her upper arm.

 

“H-huh!? N-no, I’m fine! Just a little tight, that’s all! Once we’re back at the Guild, it’ll be as good as new!”

 

Tsutomu’s brow furrowed in genuine worry, and Amy’s tail flicked in agitation. At that moment, Garm approached from behind and placed a firm hand atop her head.

 

“Hmph… Don’t mind her, Tsutomu. She’s incapable of giving proper feedback,” he declared with a huff.

 

“Ah… Well, let me put it this way, Amy — being a Tank is tough, isn’t it? You end up facing the most monsters and taking the heaviest hits. You’ve been getting hit far more than before, haven’t you?”

 

With a pout, Amy swatted Garm’s hand away as Tsutomu pressed on, carefully choosing his words.

 

“The Tank endures all that pain for the team, allowing you to attack more freely. By drawing the monsters’ attention, the Tank lets me use my skills to their fullest. Of course, Attackers are vital too, but Tanks are just as essential.”

 

“…Hmm?” Garm tilted his head, sensing something amiss in Tsutomu’s reasoning.

 

But Tsutomu continued, bringing his point to a close. “I understand you and Garm don’t always see eye to eye, and I’m not asking you to be friends. But I hope you can recognize that Garm suffers the most pain in the party, and respect him for that.”

 

“…Yes, that seems fair enough, if I say so myself. Amy, did you catch that?”

 

“…Shut up, pupper. Yeah, I got it,” Amy muttered, her voice unusually quiet as she turned away, sulking.

 

Tsutomu fidgeted awkwardly, waving his hands.

 

“I-I mean, Attackers are crucial too! Without enough damage output, we wouldn’t even be able to explore the Dungeon in the first place!”

 

“There you go again with your strange terminology, Tsutomu… Anyway, let’s head back!”

 

With a swift change of mood, Amy strode toward the Black Gate, leaving Tsutomu looking perplexed and Garm lifting his chin with pride.

 

　――▽▽――

 

The following day, Tsutomu’s party advanced to the forty-ninth layer. In the game’s Beach biome, players needed to employ a degree of strategy; with that knowledge, Tsutomu had steeled himself for a challenge — Yet in the end, he couldn’t help but feel underwhelmed.

 

The majority of the monsters here were sea creatures — formidable, yet easily managed in the face of Garm’s steadfast defense as their Tank and Amy’s astonishing damage output. Their progress mirrored the rapid pace they had achieved in the Forest biome, layers eleven through twenty, and Tsutomu found himself bewildered by the ease with which they navigated this environment.

 

When they finally found the Black Gate to the fiftieth layer, Tsutomu instructed Amy to scout the surrounding area for enemies. Upon her assurance that the coast was clear, he cast healing spells upon both her and Garm, and signaled a pause to allow his mental energy to replenish.

 

“Well, we’ve come quite far,” Tsutomu remarked, sandwich in hand.

 

“…Mm-hmm,” Garm replied, his gaze distant as he stared at the Gate.

 

Both Amy and Garm regarded the Black Gate with heavy hearts. They had confronted the boss of this Beach biome — the Shell Crab — time and again, each encounter ending in defeat.

 

The Shell Crab possessed an infuriating ability to burrow and retreat to recover health after sustaining a certain amount of damage. To vanquish it, Explorers needed to either drain its health in one decisive rush or anticipate its new hiding place once it retreated.

 

This required a team of four Attackers, armed with a considerable supply of Potions, along with a Black Mage capable of unleashing devastating damage in a brief window. Yet in Amy and Garm’s respective former Clans, they had never possessed a Black Mage strong enough to seal the deal.

 

The alternative was to predict the Shell Crab’s resurfacing location, but if they failed to locate it swiftly, it would heal. Searching the vast expanse of the Beach was a fool’s errand — by the time they found it, the creature would have restored nearly eighty percent of its health. The Attackers would fall, and the Healers would be overwhelmed, leading to a complete party wipe. This cycle of despair repeated until both Clans disbanded, drained from the relentless losses and resource depletion.

 

To them, the Shell Crab loomed as an insurmountable wall. No matter how much damage they inflicted, it would simply burrow away, transforming each battle into a maddening, endless cycle. Despite Tsutomu’s strategic prowess easing their journey thus far, they partially expected this boss to remain unconquerable. An insidious resignation settled among them.

 

“Tsutomu,” Garm asked, his wolf ears drooping slightly, “do you have a plan?”

 

With a puzzled expression, Tsutomu took a bite of his sandwich and licked the sauce from his fingers. Then he glanced at Garm, who appeared unusually glum.

 

“Well, it’s the same as always — you’ll Tank, and Amy will handle the offense. From what I’ve seen, as long as you avoid its pincers, Garm, you won’t be killed instantly. And Amy, you should be able to attack freely. Aiming for its joints might be particularly effective.”

 

“Attacking and defending won’t be the issue… The real challenge is when the Shell Crab retreats after sustaining damage. What’s your counter for that?” Garm pressed.

 

“Since Amy might not have enough power to finish it off in one go, it will likely retreat once. But I’ll set a trap near one of its nests, which should help us predict its next move. Given how well Amy has been performing lately, I’m confident we can manage after just one retreat.”

 

“…A trap at its nest? What do you mean by that!?”

 

Garm’s ears perked up as he grasped Tsutomu’s shoulder with surprising force, causing the sandwich to tumble from his grip and land in the sand. Tsutomu shot him a reproachful glance, yet began to explain despite his confusion.

 

“The Shell Crab retreats to a nest to reconstruct its shell and eat Potion Fish, healing its health. The color of the foam around its mouth and the state of its shell reveal how injured it is. Also, its nesting areas are fixed to three potential locations, each with its own landmark. I anticipate Amy will drive it into retreat during the first phase, so I’ll set a trap at one of those nests. While I do that, you both should hold back and drink your Potions, keeping its attention on you.”

“……”

“Oh, but this isn’t confirmed information yet,” Tsutomu added, sensing their disbelief. “I’m making educated guesses based on my observations through the Pedestals. If it doesn’t retreat to the predicted nest, we’ll pull back immediately and bring extra Potions the next day to try again.”

 

Noticing the shock on their faces, Tsutomu tilted his head, confused. Then it struck him: neither Amy nor Garm had progressed beyond the fiftieth layer. While their party, at its current total level, was technically capable of tackling the Volcano biome, their Status Cards still remained blue. They had never experienced the challenges that lay beyond the fiftieth layer firsthand, having only witnessed it through Monitor broadcasts.

 

No wonder they had been tearing through the beach layers so swiftly, Tsutomu realized. They must have been grinding their levels to 59 by repeatedly battling the Beach’s monsters, all the while unable to overcome the Shell Crab.

 

“Well, don’t sweat the details — let’s do what we can for now,” Tsutomu said. “I’ve recovered, so we can move out whenever you’re ready.”

 

“Right,” Garm replied tersely, his tone uncharacteristically stiff.

 

“……” Amy, usually quick to voice her thoughts, remained silent, her expression unusually solemn.

 

After Tsutomu reviewed the Shell Crab’s likely movements with them, he took the lead, opening the Black Gate and stepping forward.

 

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