Live Dungeon! – Chapter 27, A Friendly Review Session

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Translator: invichan

Editor: Silavin

Translator (December 12, 2024 Version): Barnnn

 

By the time the trio returned from their exploration of the fifty-seventh layer, the sky had turned almost pitch black. Once they wrapped things up in the Guild, they trudged back to the dormitory, changed into casual attire, and at last, regrouped in Garm’s room for a post-exploration review.

 

“I’m starving, Tsutomu,” Camille announced as she swung the door shut behind her.

 

“…How about we grab something from the food stalls?” Tsutomu replied, setting aside his earlier thoughts.

 

The idea was met with no resistance. Soon, the three went back out and returned with skewers, stew in paper bowls, and each of their own individual indulgences. Tsutomu treated himself to the caramelized skewers, Garm selected some walnut-studded pastry, and Camille opted for an unidentifiable dish that was little more than a chaotic mishmash of raw ingredients.

 

Back in Garm’s room, they spread a simple mat on the floor and laid out their food. As the meal began, Tsutomu unfurled a large sheet of paper over the low table.

 

“All right, let’s start the review. Camille, you’re up first. We agreed beforehand that your <<Dragon Form>> could last an hour without issue. Care to explain what happened today?”

 

“It did last an hour,” she replied defensively.

 

“The aftermath, Camille. That’s the issue. Was that a side effect or what?” Tsutomu pressed, rubbing his temple as he scribbled notes on Camille’s strengths and weaknesses.

 

“Well, it seems that pushing <<Dragon Form>> to its limit takes a toll on my body. If I go too hard, it… ends up like that.”

 

“Are you serious? That’s a huge problem.”

 

“Hold on. Let me explain — at the time, I thought we were done for. I gave it everything I had because, honestly, I didn’t think we’d make it out otherwise. If I hadn’t pushed myself, sure, I could’ve maintained the form for an hour without any trouble.”

 

“…So, you thought either Garm or I was going to fall? Interesting.”

 

Tsutomu’s gaze was icy, prompting Camille to raise her hands defensively.

 

“The Canyon zone isn’t exactly forgiving. Once you’re spotted by monsters, it’s one fight after another—Kungfu-garoos, Orcs, Wyverns, you name it. And we didn’t just encounter them individually; it was waves of them. I kept us alive. That deserves some credit, doesn’t it?”

 

She was right — the Canyons are punishing. Unlike the Valleys, they offered a wider field of vision, leading to more frequent and larger encounters, often in multiple waves. It was no place for the unprepared; the ability to prevail here practically separated mid-tier Explorers from the elites.

 

“Well, for someone adapting to our regular strategy in just three days, you’ve handled yourself admirably. Your <<Dragon Form>> was, frankly, spectacular — especially when you sliced through those Wyverns like they were nothing.”

 

“Exactly. I gave it my all.”

 

“Still,” Tsutomu continued, “your target management needs work. It’s somewhat understandable in <<Dragon Form>>, but even in it, your consciousness isn’t fully gone, is it? Focus on one target at a time and avoid unnecessary hits. And remember this: when told to stop attacking, stop. Waiting isn’t a weakness. While you hold back, Garm can draw aggro, and the monsters will lose interest in you.”

 

“Got it,” Camille replied, her voice containing a hint of contrition as she nodded.

 

As Tsutomu finished jotting down notes under Camille’s name, a small smile crept onto his face.

 

“But I’ll give you this — you’ve gained some confidence in our strategy, haven’t you?”

 

“…I guess. Four-wave battles, Wyverns included… Honestly, most five-member parties wouldn’t have survived that. But we did, with just the three of us.”

 

“Exactly. The strength of this strategy lies in its endurance during prolonged fights,” Tsutomu said, making some final notes for Camille’s evaluation before turning to Garm.

 

Garm, contentedly munching on his walnut pastry, swallowed and met Tsutomu’s gaze.

 

“As for you, Garm, no major mistakes stood out. You held the line against an overwhelming number of enemies, and your aggro management was impeccable. Your control over <<Combat Cry>> has improved significantly — you’re no longer pulling everything in the vicinity.” Tsutomu tapped his pen against the paper in a steady rhythm. “You took a few hits, but nothing beyond what you could recover from. And you avoided the Wyverns’ poison entirely. Solid work overall.”

 

“Why is Garm getting all the praise?” Camille asked.

 

“Don’t you start complaining…”

 

Camille huffed and tipped back her bowl, downing the entirety of her mysterious concoction in a single gulp. Tsutomu couldn’t help but marvel, not for the first time, at her sheer resilience in the face of such dubious culinary choices. Still, he held his tongue.

 

“There are a couple of minor issues for you, Garm,” Tsutomu said, redirecting his focus. “First, your hesitation with tools. I saw you almost drink a Potion earlier… and then you didn’t.”

 

“…Yeah, that happened,” he admitted.

 

From his elevated position during the battle, Tsutomu had seen it all unfold. Garm, having just executed a <<Shield Bash>>, had reached for a Potion to counter his waning strength. But then he hesitated — just a split second of uncertainty — and at that moment, a Kungfu-garoo had landed a high kick square against his torso.

 

“Don’t hold back when it comes to using consumables. I get that overuse can throw off aggro management, but there’s no sense in being stingy if you’re collapsing mid-fight. So, how about this — let’s set a guideline: use up to three vials a day without worrying about cost.”

 

Between the Dungeon rewards and the bribes the Solit Company had funneled to the Guild — which the Guild had redirected to him in light of the fake news incident — Tsutomu had plenty of funds. There was no reason for any of them to skimp on supplies.

 

“Understood,” Garm replied with a nod.

 

“Good,” Tsutomu said before moving on. “Second issue: your positioning as a Tank. I know a lot of it is instinctive by now, but taking a more conscious approach could make a noticeable difference.”

 

“Positioning?”

 

“Hmm… Let me illustrate.” Tsutomu began sketching a crude diagram. Two stick figures labeled G and C represented Garm and Camille, and a rough sketch of a Wyvern hovered nearby, its tail drawn in an arc aimed toward Garm. “This is you right here, Garm, and this is Camille. When the Wyvern’s tail stab comes your way, you’ll instinctively block or dodge it, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

“But if Camille is directly behind you,” Tsutomu continued, drawing an arrow from the Wyvern’s tail through Garm to Camille, “dodging becomes impossible.”

 

“…That’s true.”

 

“Now,” Tsutomu said, drawing a second position for Garm, slightly off-center, “if you shift just a bit to the side, you can still evade, and Camille stays safe. It’s a small adjustment, but it makes a big difference. Admittedly, this issue has only cropped up once, so I think you already have a good handle on it. Still, it’s something to be mindful of going forward.”

 

Both Garm and Amy had shown similar awareness when dealing with wide-area attacks, like the Shell Crab’s water needles. From Tsutomu’s perspective, they already had the instinct to avoid getting Attackers or Healers caught up in damage meant for Tanks.

 

“I mean, understanding why you’re doing it — and refining it — can elevate your performance even further.”

 

“Got it,” Garm replied, nodding again.

 

Satisfied, Tsutomu turned back to his notes, shifting to the center section of the page, where his own performance was under scrutiny.

 

“As for me, there’s room for improvement in how I handle healing and support mid-flight with <<Fly>>. And I really need to revisit the support strategy for Camille’s <<Dragon Form>> — it’s not working as intended.”

 

The pen scratched steadily across the paper as Tsutomu itemized his self-assigned critiques. He had to admit, observing battles from the air had been a game-changer. The <<Fly>> skill allowed him to maintain a vantage point that was both strategic and safe. He could see the battlefield with crystal clarity, deploying <<Heal>> and <<Protect>> with pinpoint accuracy and without the immediate concern of dodging monsters. It was akin to the overhead view he remembered from Live Dungeon, and the familiarity had made his tactics sharper and more efficient.

 

Yet, mastering the intricacies of mid-flight maneuvering remained a challenge. His movements were sometimes jerky, and the energy he funneled into spells like <<Protect>> or <<Haste>> occasionally wavered, leading to inconsistent durations. These lapses had caused brief but noticeable confusion during combat.

 

And then there was Camille’s <<Dragon Form>> — a transformation both powerful and maddening to manage. The standard method of guiding skill wisps to their target simply couldn’t keep up with her blistering speed and erratic movements in that form.

 

Tsutomu had been experimenting with a new technique, one that involved firing skills as quick, straight projectiles, almost as if launching them from a gun. The adjustment showed promise, allowing him to match Camille’s rapid pace.

 

The quickshot style of skill execution, as he called it, presented an array of challenges that Tsutomu had yet to fully master. Foremost among them was the inherent risk of misfires. Unlike the more traditional method, where skill wisps could be dispersed or redirected mid-flight, these projectile-style shots were instantaneous and irreversible. A slight error in aim or timing could lead to the catastrophic mistake of healing or buffing a monster instead of an ally.

 

Even when accurately delivered, the modified technique came with compromises. The compressed, bullet-like nature of the skill wisps reduced the effectiveness of his healing skills to roughly 20–30% of their usual potency. Support spells like <<Protect>> and <<Haste>> suffered similarly. Their durations, which should have provided ample coverage, were now alarmingly brief, sometimes flickering out after only a few seconds.

 

For an Attacker like Camille, who rarely sustained damage, the reduction in healing wasn’t disastrous. But the disruption to support skills was a different matter entirely, particularly with <<Haste>>. While <<Protect>> merely hardened the skin and mitigated pain — its transient effects being tolerable — <<Haste>> altered a person’s perception of motion and their sense of control. When applied inconsistently, the effect flickered on and off, creating a jarring rhythm that hindered more than it helped.

 

The issue was magnified further when used on Camille in <<Dragon Form>>. Her already lightning-fast movements became utterly unpredictable, even to her. The rapid adjustments demanded by this form would leave even his quickshot-style skills lagging behind, often missing their mark. At his current skill level, Tsutomu doubted he could reliably support her.

 

“For now, I think that wraps up my evaluation,” Tsutomu said at last, placing his pen down. “Anything you two want to add? Suggestions for me?”

 

“Hmm…”

 

Garm, chewing another piece of his pastry, appeared to mull over the question. He slurped some broth from his bowl but offered no immediate reply. Camille, however, was less hesitant. Clutching skewers in both hands, she jumped straight in.

 

“You already mentioned it, but about <<Haste>> during my <<Dragon Form>>? I’d really prefer you skip it altogether. It messes with how my body moves, and frankly, I don’t even need it. I mean, if it’s going to cut out halfway, it’s more of a hassle than a benefit. The transformation alone boosts my speed and reflexes plenty… You know, honestly, you could even stop supporting me entirely while it’s active.”

 

“I hear you,” Tsutomu replied, scratching his temple thoughtfully. “But let me ask this — if the effect didn’t flicker and stayed consistent, would it still throw you off?”

 

“It’d help, sure. But you’re already doing plenty without it. Things have been running smoothly enough as they are.”

 

As Camille tore into another chunk of meat, and Garm gave a quiet nod of agreement, Tsutomu’s pen hovered over his notes. He wasn’t entirely convinced.

 

“How about this,” Camille suggested after a moment. “What if you applied <<Haste>> before I transformed? That way, it wouldn’t get interrupted mid-use.”

 

Tsutomu shook his head. “Even at full potency, <<Haste>> only lasts about five minutes. And its initial activation would draw a lot of aggro… Too much, in fact. I’d rather not do that.”

 

“Fair point,” Camille sighed, leaning back with a shrug. “Sorry for bringing it up. I should’ve known you’d already considered that.”

 

“No need to apologize — feedback’s always useful. Even if it doesn’t work out, you might catch something I’ve missed.”

 

Camille’s lips curved into a faint grin, but she said no more. It was Garm, quiet until now, who finally spoke.

 

“About the <<Heals>>,” he began, “Could you focus them more on my left arm when possible?”

 

“Your left arm? Why?”

 

“…When I used a buckler, I’d dodge or parry most attacks. But now that I’ve switched to a tower shield, I absorb most attacks head-on. It’s taking a toll on my arm — numbness, and sometimes tendon strain.”

 

“Ah,” Tsutomu murmured, nodding as the realization dawned on him. “That makes sense. I should’ve caught that sooner.”

 

He jotted a note, silently berating himself for overlooking such an obvious detail. The idea of localized healing hadn’t come up in the game he was used to, but in reality, it was a perfectly reasonable adaptation.

 

“And if you need healing, just call out — a simple ‘I need healing!’ will do. I can’t always see what’s happening on the ground, especially if the injury isn’t visible. A heads-up will make things easier.”

 

“Understood.”

 

“All right — anything else?”

 

Camille’s hand shot into the air as though she were a child in a classroom, her expression unusually eager.

 

“I want more of that pot-au-feu you made the other day! Tonight’s broth was fine, but it was way too salty for my liking. The lighter flavor from before was perfect.”

 

A heavy silence followed her declaration, broken only by Garm’s exasperated sigh. He blinked at Camille, his expression one of mute disapproval.

 

“…Noted,” Tsutomu said at last, stifling a chuckle. He jotted another note — this one unrelated to combat — and resigned himself to restocking the ingredients for pot-au-feu the next morning.

 

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