“Remember now. I said I’m cutting you a deal. While I cannot speak for other demons, I am first and foremost a researcher; research is my absolute priority. Allow me to submit, though, that when it comes to other matters, I endeavor to be reasonably trustworthy. In fact, I’ll also free the four in the other room from their struggle,” Emil said before adding with a chuckle, “After all, I can’t experiment on them if they’re dead.”
“Then they’re still alive?” confirmed Renya. He wasn’t interested in having four lifeless bodies returned to him.
“Yes.” Emil nodded. “I guarantee you they are.”
“…You know, it’s at this point that I can’t help but recall that there were eleven other lives you—”
“Were those lives important to you?”
Good question. Upsettingly good, almost. There was a period of silence before Renya spoke again.
“I don’t see the need to answer that.”
“Fair enough. Well then, what shall it be?”
Two fresh arms slithered quickly out of Emil’s severed stumps. Renya tensed warily, but the demon simply shook his hands at him.
“These are just regular arms. The weaponized ones take longer to regrow.”
“…What’s the probability that both of them will recover?”
“Right now? One hundred percent. If you leave them to me, I promise to patch them up so they’re good as new. How about it?” asked Emil. The katana that was pointed at his forehead slowly retracted. Seeing that Renya had returned his blade to its sheath, Emil pushed himself up with a lively grunt of effort. He met no resistance from Renya.
“Shall I take this as confirmation that a deal has been made?”
“I’ve got a creeping feeling I’ll come to regret this someday, though. Anyway, once you finish treating them, I expect you to make yourself scarce, got it? My explanation to my friends is going to be that you managed to get away at the last minute.”
“I’ll make sure you won’t come to regret it. You have my word,” Emil said as he gave his chest a quick thump. His smile had returned, every bit as tenacious as before. “And I’m one to keep my word, if I do say so myself.”
Renya tilted his head back and sighed at the unseeable sky, wondering just how much trust he could place on a demon’s word.
The ceramic container was still sitting on the counter at the inn. Renya picked it up, his expression clouded with worry. Did it work? Slowly, he removed the lid.
Bubbles greeted him, popping one after another along the surface of the liquid. A fruity aroma filled his nose, mildly tinged with the scent of alcohol. A smile spread across his lips.
Looks like it did.
This was, for most intents and purposes, a smashing success.
Had he been assaulted by a sharp stinging odor, it would have implied failure — that the contents of the container were overwhelmed by the bacterial onslaught. A few more whiffs of the gaseous emissions, however, convinced him that his worry was misplaced.
Though it seemed a waste, Renya discarded the meat of the fruits. They had done their duty; the remaining liquid was what mattered. Once he strained it through a clean cloth, he would have what he was after: yeast water. This was to be mixed with wheat flour at room temperature, followed by letting it sit in a cool, dark place. Yet more yeast water and wheat flour would then be added, and the whole process would be repeated three times. At the end of all this, he would finally acquire that sublime prize he so desperately craved: bread starter. This meant a world of difference when baking bread. Mixing bread starter into the dough would not only impart to the final product a soft fluffiness to its texture, but also embellish its aroma with a hint of its fruity origins.
Sure, what passed for bread here had its advantages, but Renya didn’t care. He didn’t care that it kept well for long periods of time. He didn’t care that it was cheap. He simply refused to take another bite of that stiff, crusty garbage. Bread had to be soft and the tiniest bit sweet. Otherwise, it just wasn’t bread.
Of course, ingredients alone did not good bread make; he still needed to secure a location where he could actually bake the thing. He figured, however, that that was a problem he could solve by throwing money at it. As he idly pondered such thoughts, his mind drifted to the unreasonably exhausting events of the past two or three days, and he lost himself in his memories.
“In any case, hold on to this for now,” said Emil after handing Renya a clear-red stone the size of a chicken egg.
The two of them had moved Azu and Rona away from the dungeon walls and laid them out on the ground. The demon had then proceeded to examine their still-unconscious bodies before initiating his treatment, which involved potions, spells, and some sort of chiropractic manipulation that produced a whole lot noises one should probably never hear from a human body. At the end of it all, he had produced the stone.
When they were first set down on the ground, both Azu and Rona were bleeding in various places and their faces were pale. After the treatment, color returned to their faces and their breathing calmed. Considering the terribly unnerving noises Renya had just heard, the fact that they were lying there so peacefully now was jarring — so much so that he seriously questioned whether Emil had done something weird. Emil, for his part, vehemently denied Renya’s accusation.
Shion, who had been laid on the ground alongside the other two, also remained unconscious. Her wounds, however, consisted of only some bruising. After a simple examination by Emil, she was doused from head to toe with potions and left alone. It seemed to Renya that even if her injuries were healed, she would end up catching a cold like that, but he decided to leave her be. Emil said she would be fine, after all, and he was the medically-versed one among them, albeit self-proclaimed. Plus, catching a cold as the worst-case scenario wasn’t that bad. She could just put up with it.
“What’s this?” asked Renya, holding the stone in his palm.
“A manastone. Hefty, isn’t it? You’d need one of this size at the very least to claim it was a dungeon core,” replied Emil. He poked the manastone with his finger. That was all it took for a crack to shoot through the stone from where he touched it and split it in two.
“There you go. One fake dungeon core, ready for use.”
“Can people tell it’s fake if they take a good look?”
Renya held the manastone in front of his eyes and stared at it. It was in two halves, but they were still two very big halves. He could certainly sell it for good sum of money, but he knew nothing about the differences between dungeon cores and manastones, and he didn’t want anybody calling him out after taking a look and realizing it wasn’t a core.
“Not a chance. Besides, you’re showing it to humans; they don’t even know what to look for.”
“You think?”
“I do indeed. After all, humans aren’t even aware that dungeon cores are ‘intelligent’ objects.”
“They’re what?”
More terms that Renya had never heard before. He almost consulted the Help Function again, but decided that now was probably not the time.
“It gets complicated, so I’ll spare you the details for now. We’ll discuss it next time. You’ve got three bodies to lug out of here and four more in the next room. I’d recommend getting that done quickly. Here, I’ll even help you.”
The four who were attacked by rust monsters had almost all of their armor destroyed by rust. They also lost quite a lot of blood, but were not in any danger of dying. When they were rescued, they were merely unconscious. Being swallowed by sentient chunks of meat, however, was not without its consequences; on top of suffering multiple bone fractures, various parts of their bodies were missing. Emil treated the fractures but threw his hands up when it came to the second issue, claiming he couldn’t heal what wasn’t there.
“This is, of course, my fault…. Does the sight of this, perhaps, affect your willingness to let me go?”
“No. They’re still alive. You kept your end of the bargain, so I’ll keep mine.”
Being adventurers, they should have already considered the fact that they would be risking life and, in this case, limb. Emil gave him a shrugging look that said, “If you say so,” and hoisted two bodies, carrying one with each arm. The fact that each of the demon’s arms could hold the weight of a human adult served as a stark reminder of the difference in capabilities between the two races.
“I’ll carry the men, so you can handle the ladies, all right?”
“What, you have something against ladies?”
“Human females are a pain, after all. Besides…” Emil grinned. “Isn’t this your chance to grope to your heart’s content?”
“What’s the point? They don’t move. It’d be like playing with puppets.”
The demon looked at Renya in surprise, not expecting to be met with disinterest. Soon, though, he smirked.
“A shame. And such beauties, too. It won’t hurt you to enjoy yourself a little, you know?”
“If you’ve got the time to be flapping your trap, then start carrying them out already,” snapped Renya as he gave Emil a kick to the rear. It was both to hurry him up and shut him up. Otherwise, the demon seemed liable to make even more preposterous remarks.
Renya proceeded to pick up the two girls and carry them to the wagon, all the while insisting to no one in particular that his choice of carrying technique — princess-style — was definitely not influenced by any prior suggestions. Outside, he was subject to another round of teasing by Emil, who had already hauled Azu and his four guards onto the wagon. He answered back with a full-power roundhouse kick to the demon’s head. Emil, however, was entirely unfazed.