Dungeon Heart 03 - Hell Gate, page 26
Yet, he was less than pleased by all of them, as they each forced him to come into contact with a powerful entity, be it a god, devil, or death reaper, all of which he wished to avoid entirely. Even if there was a difference between being able to choose one of them or being conquered by one of them, in the end he would still be controlled by them and subject to their whims. The whole point of risking his discovery and making an alliance with the king in the first place was to remain independent and protect his family.
It was almost insulting to have these options thrust in his face now. Specially now. Thus, there was only one solution available.
“Cancel it,” Smit had said after a moment of silence, willingly rejecting the bonus.
<<<>>>
Warning, bonus rejected. Primary bonus options will be canceled. Are you certain you wish to continue?
<<<>>>
“Absolutely,” Smit said with a snort. There was no other acceptable choice for him. He had expected the window that he saw in his mind to vanish but instead, it seemed to… waver violently.
<<<>>>
ExCeptional perFormancE, growth speed, and eventS have been detecteD. Special bonus mAy be selected. Please choose:
Heavenly Intervention
Hell’s Protection
Reaper’s Blessing
<<<>>>
Squinting at the window, Smit felt a slight chill on his spine. A warm sensation that left a tingle on his skin could be felt for a moment, so brief that he might have missed it if he had not been paying attention. A power that tasted sickly sweet seemed to manifest itself for an instant when the screen appeared again. Yet he did not hesitate to cancel it again, only to feel the sensation as the message once more wavered.
<<<>>>
WarnIng, bonus reJectED. PrimAry… Are you cerTain you wish to continuE? RecoMMendEd seLEction: HeaVe-
<<<>>>
“I don’t want any of them,” Smit interrupted it, willing it with all his might to go away. Oddly enough, he had felt a resistance against his consciousness then, as if someone had been pushing against his mind. It was then that he was certain that there had been someone trying to interfere with his rank up. Probably some god or perhaps even a group of them. He had glared at the window as it started to waver once more, but then, it flickered out of existence in a hurry, as if it had been swallowed into a ravenous, unseeable void.
<<<>>>
Primary bonus options have been rejected. Alternative bonus calculated.
<<<>>>
<<<>>>
Complete. Please select a Special bonus:
Optimized boss evolution (Single Use)
Ability: Atmospheric manipulation
Blessed scroll of advanced information (Single Use)
Ability: Improved ore creation (Upgrade)
<<<>>>
Smit had been wary of the window when it had appeared again, but he was extremely pleased to see that it had reverted to its normal self. He had no idea how someone had interfered with it before, but he was glad to see that he had regained control of the situation. Even if the alternative bonuses were quite lackluster compared to the benefits of the previous selection, he was far more satisfied with them. [Optimized boss evolution] allowed him to push forwards a rare evolution onto one of his boss monsters, [Atmospheric manipulation] allowed him to change the climate of a whole dungeon floor, the [Blessed scroll of advanced information] granted him advanced knowledge about one earthly ability or subject, and [Improved ore creation] seemed to be an enhancement of his [Creation] ability, letting him create ores of rarer materials such as iron, cobalt, silver, and gold.
He didn’t have to think about it for long. After all, for him, there was no other choice but [Improved ore creation]. As useful and interesting as the other options were, he could not pass up such a boon as ore creation. While it was only an upgrade to his [Creation] ability, as a former dwarven blacksmith he could not simply ignore it. Even at the 3rd rank he had only been able to produce primarily small amounts of lead, copper, and bronze, which in his eyes was a pitifully narrow spectrum of metals. With this ability, he could create ores that contained a higher content of these metals, and he could create far more minerals than before. These would be what you could call higher grade ores.
Such was his joy that for the first time in ages, he made an impulsive decision. On the fifty-fourth day since the invasion of Klax, Smit had sent a mental command as he canceled his [Bloody Evolution] ability, and celebrated his advancement with his children. He leapt to his feet and strode across the room of his dungeon core, and stood at the foot of the waterfall as it parted itself down the middle like a pair of curtains being drawn back on a stage to reveal his presence.
Immediately upon exposing his beard to the fresh mist of the parted waterfall, Smit smiled broadly and called out to his children with a smile painted across his face. His booming voice made itself known in the minds of his four children as he called them to his side. “Children! Come, a joyous occasion has presented itself! There is no better time to have a taste of the first fruits of our brewery than now!”
His excitement was palpable in their minds, his “voice” light and full of merriment. The excitement was contagious and soon, the four strongest members of the dungeon rushed to the side of their creator, dropping whatever they had been doing without a second thought. It was not often that they heard Smit so…. jovial. It was delightful to them to hear their father be so happy.
Ziggurd was the first to reach Smit, as he was simply meditating at the foot of the waterfall when Smit had suddenly called out to them. Pala was the next one to arrive, zipping through the dungeon like a bolt of lightning, displaying excellent control over his new form as he weaved through the Elusive Forest with such ease that one would have never imagined that he was not born with that body. In third place came Arturus, bursting through the forest and skidding to a stop just before he fell into the pool of water at the base of the waterfall. Seconds later, Echo burst through as well, though in her case she did not manage to stop in time, and slid into the water to her waist before coming to a stop.
Chuckling in amusement at the owlish look on her face, Smit smiled in good humor and shook his head slightly as Pala offered her a hand to help her out of the pool. The girl was truly becoming more attuned with her own emotions and body, as he couldn’t have imagined her wearing such an expression even a few months ago. Clapping his hands, the dwarven master looked at his children with a twinkle in his eye.
“Good, you all arrived faster than I had hoped,” he said as he made brief eye contact with each of them. “I have finally reached the 4th rank, my dears. And, while I had a little interference for a moment, it seems that there is no problem for now. More importantly, I have acquired two very useful abilities, and I have reached a milestone in my cultivation. Therefore, let us celebrate! Not just for my achievements, but for the progress you all have made! You will be the first to taste my handmade dwarven ale.”
The reaction was rather subdued from his children, as all but Ziggurd had never tasted alcohol, so how could they know what to expect or how to react? Rather, only Ziggurd looked excited to try the ale, his pearl-white eyes going wide and perking up in excitement. Pala did not miss the change in demeanor from his newest brother, noticing that Ziggurd’s whole body seemed to perk up and turn more towards Smit in excitement. Whatever this ale was… it was probably a good thing, right?
“...Father?” Pala said carefully, as he was rather unsure if his ignorance would dampen his father’s mood. “What is ….‘ale’? and how do we taste it? Is it like the magic cores in the golems?”
Smit froze, looking as if he had been hit with a frying pan or splashed with cold water. His shock and surprise were quite apparent. He blinked twice at Pala, and the dragonewt was for a moment worried that he had said something wrong, perhaps even offended his creator with his poor choice of words. However, he was immediately proven wrong by Smit’s next words.
“Horus’s beak, how could I have forgotten! You all have never tasted any real food have you? Never mind ale, I don’t think you have ever drunk anything more than water!” Smit gasped as he grabbed his beard with his fist. His surprise was not at the fact they had never drunk alcohol, for he was aware of this. His creations didn’t particularly need to eat within the dungeon, and they could theoretically survive off the dungeon’s mana exclusively if they had to. As such, even if some of the creatures of the dungeon preyed on others, they had never been exposed to any real diversity of foods, forget any kind of elaborate drink.
Perhaps it was not so bad, as they did not know what they were missing, but now that he realized it, Ziggurd had been completely deprived of any culinary delights since he had died… four months ago. And in fact, he himself had also completely ignored food for the better part of a year! The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. His eyes suddenly turned sharp, and he looked at them all with a serious expression. This would not be tolerated.
“This will not do. Come! All of you. It is high time that this father of yours taught you about the delights of alcohol,” he said as he turned on his heel and marched them back into the core room. From there, they entered a smaller room where Smit had relocated the distillery. Conjuring a small table of common stone, Smit instructed them to sit around it and wait as he cracked open one of the barrels. Summoning four large tankards and a wide bowl for Arturus, he carefully poured the golden-copper liquid into the vessels for drinking.
Only once he had poured each their serving, and sat himself down, did he speak again. “Now. This is dwarven ale. Or more specifically, this is a simplified dwarven ale brew. I am not sure I would call myself a master brewer, but I dare say I am experienced enough to make do with what we have at hand and still produce a product of quality,” he said clearly, before making eye contact with his three oldest children. “You three have never tasted anything like this before, so it will be a bit odd at first. Over time you will come to appreciate it more even if you are not able to appreciate it fully now.”
“Is this a special drink?” Echo asked first, curious as to why this seemed to be so important to Smit. It seemed rather odd for him to be so serious about this strange fluid, despite its pretty color.
“It is!” Smit said firmly. “In another life, this was a drink that brought much joy to many people. It is a drink used for celebrations, nursing the sadness of a broken heart, relaxing after a hard day, and sharing stories with those closest to you. It is fair to say that it is a drink that, while having too much will decrease your ability to make decisions, acts to bond people together.”
Ziggurd blinked at his explanation, a bit surprised by the passionate delivery of his speech, but he supposed that the rumors of dwarves loving their alcohol were true. Besides, he was technically not wrong. Everything he had said was true… if a bit dramatized. Nonetheless, he kept his silence, lest speaking out of turn earned him the loss of his ale. He simply could not risk that.
“Now then,” Smit said as he cleared his throat. “I won’t bore you with the details of the brewing process, but I am sure you will taste the fruit that I have used to balance the bitterness of the brew. Sadly I don't have the right ingredients to make a more advanced brew, but this simple profile is probably best for you who are trying it for the first time, at any rate. Now, we shall cheer. This is a tradition when the reason for drinking is a positive one. You raise your glasses and loudly say ‘cheers!’ in unison. If you can’t raise your glass, raise your paw in a sign of camaraderie. Are you ready?”
The other four nodded in unison, their expressions ranging from curious to excited. Echo and Pala fumbled with their tankards, trying to grab them like Smit did, while Ziggurd handled his beverage with practiced ease. This situation was entirely new for them, and they felt loved by their father for being included in what they understood as a grand ritual. Regardless of how it tasted, none of them had any intention of wasting a single drop of the fluid that Smit had ever so carefully placed before them.
“Cheers!” Smit shouted merrily, and the others echoed his voice in celebration. Lifting his drink to his lips, Smit took a hearty swig of his beverage, gulping half of the drink with gusto. Seeing him do this, Pala attempted to do the same, nearly choking in his rush to mimic his father. Barking a laugh as he patted Pala’s back, Smit shook his head knowingly. “Good spirit, son! But there is no need to rush it. Savor it, nurse your drink and remember this as the first time you tasted the wonders of alcohol.”
As if to demonstrate, Smit swirled the drink in his tankard and brought his nose close to the opening, taking a drawn out whiff of its scent before calmly taking a sizable sip of the ale. He held it in his mouth for a moment, and gently swirled it with his tongue for a second before swallowing with satisfaction. “Hmmm… this body can’t fully grasp the flavors, but nonetheless… It has a mild pine and roasted malt scent that is pleasant to the nose. The flavor itself is weaker than I remember, but the balance of hops and malt is still there, just as it should be, with a hint of citrus. Hmm… there should be a hint of apple and sweetness, but I suppose it is lost to me due to my body,” he said with a chuckle.
“I taste it. It’s rather bitter but I like it,” Arturus hummed out as he lapped up the drink eagerly, clearly enjoying the taste.
“I don’t know…” Echo said as she carefully took another sip of it. As a golem, she didn't even drink water normally. She had to sift through her knowledge of taste to try to put a name into the flavors she tasted. “It’s… bitter? But… smooth?” She didn’t hate it. But she couldn’t tell if she liked it. Much like Smit, her sense of taste was muted.
Taking another experimental sip, she tried to get the flavors that Smit had defined earlier, focusing deeply, only to find that besides the base flavors, something else could be felt. Not a physical flavor exactly, but she could “taste” it. “Oh… Father’s mana. It tastes good,” she said with surprise. She fed off the mana produced by Smit like every other creature created in the dungeon, and once she identified the “flavor” of the mana she had been consuming, she seemed to enjoy the drink more. The flavors of the ale accommodated his mana, making it more rich and tasteful… or was it that the mana was enhancing the flavor of the ale? She couldn’t tell which was occurring, but nevertheless, she found that she was enjoying the flavor more and more as she drank more of the ale.
“Oh you are right, I can taste that too!” Pala said as he drank more of the ale, finding the taste interesting as he tried to savor it like Smit. His taste buds were quick to find the flavors and he quite seemed to enjoy the drink now that he wasn’t coughing it out. “I bet it would taste great with meat.”
“Absolutely delightful!” Ziggurd said, his tankard already halfway drained. “I have never tasted an ale infused with mana before. They are expensive items you know? They can be used for rituals or special ceremonies, and they can restore mana too. I never dreamed I’d get to taste fairy ale, much less dwarven- made fairy ale! Oh, if I could tell Ella and the others they would be green with envy.”
“Mana? I didn’t add mana,” Smit said thoughtfully, not remembering that he’d ever intentionally tried to infuse the drink with his mana. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t even considered doing that, as he simply wanted to taste a proper brew. As far as he knew, the so-called “fairy alcohols” were not easily made, though he didn’t know much about the actual process of production. Those who did know kept the secret close to their hearts and zealously protected their process of creation.
“Well, in theory they are simply alcohols that have been laced with mana,” Ziggurd said. “Usually you need to have some knowledge or skill with alchemy or wizardry to permanently infuse something like alcohol with mana properly, but… well… Maybe. Maybe there is simply so much mana in the core room that after sitting around fermenting long enough, the ale underwent some form of natural mana infusion? That’s the theory of how ores like mithril are formed anyway. I don’t see why it wouldn’t apply to ale.”
“Hmm…” Smit said thoughtfully, swirling the liquid in his tankard with a critical eye, before shrugging his shoulders and draining whatever was left of the ale. “No matter. We can theorize and experiment with the ale if we wish. For now, let us continue our celebration! It’s high time you all learned some tavern songs, I think. And no better place to start than ’ol Charlie Mopps!”
Smit smirked with a twinkle in his eye as he poured himself more ale. For a moment he allowed himself to bask in the delight of having his very first ale with his children. It brought up vague memories of the first time he drank with his own father, many, many centuries ago. He wondered if this was how his father had felt, this warmth that spread from his heart and reached down to his very soul. Just looking at his children right now, it dawned on him how lucky a man he was to have children like these.
They had come so far already, each working hard to develop and grow, not just as warriors, but as people. Smit had not a doubt in his heart that they would continue to grow and reach even greater heights, soaring far beyond even his wildest dreams. His children had truly changed everything for him. In less than a year, he had gone from a grumbling, cantankerous hermit holed up in a mountain to being the proud father of four strong, marvelous children. He could not even fathom having that kind of solitary lifestyle anymore, as the very idea of losing his children made his heart bleed with grief.
Still, this was not the time to get sentimental. For all intents and purposes, this was the very first proper celebration he had ever had with his children, and by the hammer of his forge, he was going to make sure it was a memorable one. Smiling warmly, Smit chugged down the last of his ale, and allowed himself to truly celebrate with his loved ones for the first time in a very, very long time.
