There is no Epic Loot here, Only Puns. - Chapter 179- Chapter Interlude: As Good As Gold

Years ago:

The song still echoes deep in his mind. He didn’t quite remember where it came from, not from the Sister. She didn’t have an understanding of simple songs and rhymes.

Not the Brother. It wasn’t crude enough.

‘Stone, too deep to shine. Bronze to smelt the soul. Silver to connect the ley line. Gold to control.’

Yal hadn’t thought of Silver in some time. Not since Lorsa’s last visit.

It made Yal think of the four.

He of gold, Lustre- no, she went by Lorsa now (changes always escaped him), Lorsa of stone, Silver the silver, and the grump to the north.

Thinking of that workaholic made Yal grimace. He was always cleaning up that fool’s messes. First with holding the near-dead Dungeon network up when he was too busy. Yal held it up and kept the capital flourishing.

Then the business with those Maidens.

What on Brother had that Dungeon been thinking?

Mayden the Bronze has basically forced that annoying slogan out of that town he was in, what was it called… Deowrant?

“Made in Mayden!”

It was enough to make Yal nauseous. But he did have to give Mayden credit, the Dungeon was so creative and clever he had made a false Dungeon over itself. A sort of false front.

The locals had forgotten that below what they thought was a simple 26 floor Dungeon was a titan of a beast. He just wished Mayden stopped with that invitation he set out for people.

‘All those that enter may leave with gold or stay forever as fuel for the Smith’s Forge’

The nerve. His ‘Gold’ was all stamped with a caricature of Yal with a huge nose. He had seen those… those coins!

Yal returned the favor obviously. He printed gem crusted books with detailed land maps that pretended Deowrant didn’t exist.

He also refused all tributes of the stuff coming out of Mayden’s dungeon.

Silver had once commented that the two of them were definitely family. For that smart remark, Gold turned entire sections of Silver’s network into a golden hue. It had looked so much better, in his humble opinion.

Then Lorsa would appear and smack them all. She always smacked them on the head of their cores. It always hurt.

She was the eldest, even if her Dungeon had been utterly exposed and ruined after the Shattering.

Even Dungeonless, they all aided her.

He moved through his 101st floor with a frown. Thinking of the Shattering made him broody. He remembered how the land itself shook, how the Brother howled, how so many people cried out…

How Lorsa had screamed.

It was the Shattering that changed everything. It awoke something in the Sister. It awoke something and for the first time, their creator felt painful guilt. Then their plan was put into motion.

Even Yal lost a little bit of his glow for a while. Still, it wasn’t bad enough that Lorsa had been utterly exposed from the wound, but people had delved into her like parasites. She who was never meant to be tested.

‘The black box’ was what the Brother called her.

“Enough,” he commanded himself and turned in his opulent hall of mirrors and gold, admiring his avatar which had a long genderless appearance with angelic features. His nose was so slight, so angled it could never be called anything that related to huge, enormous, titan, giant, massive, humongous, and-

He twitched and smoothed down his hair.

So far, he wasn’t impressed with the Sibling’s plan.

The only one they had released in the world so far, this ‘Gamma’ was good at chaos and that wasn’t always a good thing. Or wait… did they plan on releasing this ‘Beta’ soon? He really ought to check his messages but he had so many from himself, praising his floors, his style, his gold, his small nose, his grace-

He paused.

Right, Gamma. That little toady had been in his Dungeon recently. He was brought here by the newest Queen. Yal wasn’t impressed with her either but she had passed the test and gotten the crown. The only thing going for her was her clear love for gold which he could respect.

It was extremely gaudy she would go on to earn the title ‘Gold Queen’. He should have sued but he was benevolent and he was sure he ate any lawyers that wandered in.

Yal would have guessed that was some time ago. Wasn’t one of her children due to come in soon? Durent? Enduant?

He was almost tempted to pull on Lorsa to ask for updates but Yal honestly did not care. He had so many new projects to make, creative traps, and more!

He opened his gold Menu and eyed his to-do list.

“Forge a giant statue of my avatar pushing Mayden’s down stairs, then make more but make them small enough to be marketable and fetch,” he read. That would take time, he always had to start over to make Mayden’s face even sadder each time.

“Item two: Contract a lawyer and sue the queen. There is only room enough for one golden queen and it’s me,” he nodded. He still had about… 94 contract slots left. He should have more but, a few years ago, Yal had gotten overly attached to an adventuring group called the ‘Dazzling Beauties’.

Right now, they lived on the 40th floor, stuck as golden statues. Another few years and he could even stop feeding them once they converted!

Then there was Brilda.

That one burned up ten contracts in one go.

Lorsa insisted on it because she wanted to ‘maintain’ herself. It bugged Yal because maintaining a perfect sense of self while also converting them was costly. It only cost ten because the girl was nearly dead as it was.

Yal offered to snip off childhood memories, her sense of duty, morals, and more to free up the cost, but Lorsa smacked him.

It hurt.

He was about to move on to his third item which was to test every mirror from floor 1 to current when he felt someone entering the Dungeon. The tinge of her revealed she was royal, but not by blood.

In fact, the girl didn’t have a single drop of hero or noble blood at all. Those sorts had been in Yal’s Dungeon and his ‘sparkle’ didn’t dim over the years. It was handy to know if he tormented someone’s parents to see if their children had avoided their unfortunate features.

Whole bloodlines went extinct because they just wouldn’t stop breeding with each other. ‘Extinct’ because Yal intentionally turned off limiters on his lower floors to kill them. The memories of their webbed toes, fangled teeth, droopy noses…

He felt faint.

To be fair, he only killed the ones who thought they were the next chosen one. The lucky ones to get out and escape their family home he didn’t see any issue.

It was like cultivating roses and Yal so did see the capital as his garden.

This new queen was a commoner. Her blood was new, it was wild of different histories. Tested by hardship and time.

Still, he took a quick peek at her physically. She was a slender woman garbed in subtle clothes and tones. Not shabby by any means but there was something off about her.

“Great Dungeon, please… please, I beg a boon,” she knelt and Yal was intrigued. He smelled drama.

Was his favorite show ‘Royals kill themselves over an ugly crown’ about to get exciting?

“I can’t take this anymore. Please, make me disappear,” she shook and Yal was let down.

No blood vengeance? No deadly poison? No cries for a powerful sword to destroy Gamma? He was about to turn away when she continued.

“The man I am married to is a… pig. I bear children and sit at his side. All the while I hold a terrible secret,” she said with a thick throat.

Invisible ears perked, Yal pivoted on the spot and headed back towards her. He had to lean in really close to hear her next words.

“None of my children are the king’s,” she whispered. She pulled something out and it was a near empty vial of blood stored in one of those beautifully made phylacteries. It was so beautiful he wondered who the craftsman was…

“I got this from the town of Deowrant, it’s a special Dungeon item that ensures no blood inside will ever go bad,” she explained as if trying to think through her own choices.

Yal thickly swallowed and managed to smile.

How… nice. She turned the thing over and the cap was a rather golden bird with a long… a very long beak.

Yal was going to kill him.

“Brilda and Lorsa, they use a special power to enchant the blood. The last gift of my beloved, Durence. Lovers give each other a vial of their blood as the ultimate trust. This was his way of apologizing I suppose… they had magic to make the blood, well…Durence gave me a blessing if the chance came up but it’s still rather-” she cut herself off and turned pink. Yal stared at her, not catching on.

“But even with their love and light, the king has eroded me. I am wrapped in golden silks that form a noose. I feel worse than I did when I begged for food. The cold in our bed makes those rough nights on a doorstep feel warm,” she began to sob.

Oh, she was leaking. Did he bring her a mop or a napkin? Yal didn’t like messes.

“The elixirs of health the chemists make me no longer chase away the darkness. I can’t ‘feel’ better as long as my demon shares my bed. I can’t heal as long his words keep cutting me. I cannot shine if he is determined to bury me in despair,” she went on.

“Have you tried murder?” he offered, appearing before her suddenly, and she jumped so far back she nearly flew.

“What?” she breathed.

“Murder. Death? Ending a living being. Taking an alive person and unaliving them. Surprise forever sleep? Helping their souls escape?” he listed, wondering if she was slow.

“He is guarded, even in his sleep,” she said as if still in shock.

“Kill them too,” Yal said simply.

“They did nothing wrong!” the woman said, sounding outraged now.

“They are preventing your current goals. I would call that ‘obstruction of justice’ but don’t quote me. I still lack a lawyer,” he said sadly.

“You’re the avatar of the Royal Dungeon, but I’ve never seen… this form in any record,” the queen admitted and Yal looked down at his beautiful self and the thick gold bathrobe he wore. It was something Brother had shown off and Yal just had to have one.

Even if it did come from the scattered memories of those orbs he recently recovered from the demon world.

“Isn’t it sublime? Don’t you wish you were me?” Yal said with a hum as he rolled his shoulders.

“…Not at this moment,” she said and Yal chalked it up to shock on her part. Soon, the grandness of his self would drive her mad with envy.

“So, do you desire powerful magic? Turn his royal jewels to hunks of gold?” he asked and she shook her head.

“Well, I was-”

“A cursed golden scimitar that will keep him alive no matter how many times you cut him up?” he said excitedly. She looked excited or horrified at that one.

“Gods, no-”

“Swear to no god in my domain lest you wish to lose your tongue,” Yal dropped all the excitement and fun in his tone and sounded like the ancient beast he actually was.

“O-Of course, great Dungeon. My apologies…” she stammered.

“Great! Now, how about a golden hive that makes bejeweled bees that will inject a deadly poison that will make the victim suffer for thirty days and nights with hives and the inability to see the color gold!” he went on with a clap of his hands.

“Can I live here?” she interrupted and he stared at her.

“No,” he said with a shock.

“Please! I beg of thee!” she bowed again and Yal crossed his arms.

“You can beg of thee, bee, knees, and all things me, but the answer is no. You’re not… symmetrical,” he said, shivering.

“What do you mean? I have been called pretty and fair by many,” the woman protested.

“And you should really go and thank them for their kind, if exaggerated, words,” he gestured to the stairs back to the town.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” she challenged.

“And I behold you, so off you go!” Yal insisted, getting ready to vanish back into his Dungeon.

“You have no taste!” she snapped and Yal screeched to a stop, running a hand over the entrance of his Dungeon, making the contact emit a high pitch squeal.

“Is that so?” he said, voice tight.

—

In the capital for Verluan, every golden item farmed from the Dungeon and converted to be forever began to ever so slightly vibrate in tension. In a bank, Ned Happy stared as a mountain of gold shuddered with outrage.

“Oh dear,” the ghost commented.

—

Yal stalked forward with a haughty tone.

“And this is the golden fountain of the thirty-first floor. Its liquids are the shimmering pearlescent of a full moon, its surfaces are sprinkled with diamond dust, and the smell is practically perfect. Only those who fought here with beauty and grace would ever see this and you want to say you’ve seen something more beautiful?” Yal challenged the queen who looked a little shell shocked at the sudden ‘tour’.

So far, every other floor had impressed her but she always turned to Yal and said she had seen something far more beautiful every time.

And she was telling the truth. It galled Yal.

“What is this gem? This artwork? What is this goblet of gold, this necklace of rubies? What weapon of the greatest smiths have you gazed upon? What white gold have you seen in the sunset?” Yal demanded, not whining.

He was a visage of beauty. One did not whine.

“Contract me properly, and I’ll tell you,” she offered, holding out a hand. Ever since this little competition had begun, life and youth had returned to the queen’s face and Yal did have to admit that she was… not hideous.

Yal stared then held a hand up.

“Let me consult my wisest men,” he intoned.

“You have men?” she blinked then went on, “wise men?” she echoed. He vanished to his core room where he sat in front of his ‘self’.

A giant ever reflective series of gem panels surrounded his gold core that was the size of a boulder. The mirrors danced and reflected light and illusions.

He stepped into the middle and millions of copies of himself appeared.

“This thespian demands we out do her!” a Yal said, wearing a toga of gold.

“No no! We challenge her to a beautiful duel to the death!” a gladiator version announced.

“Let’s just be sad,” said a disheveled (but still beautiful, this was important) Yal.

“Should we contract her?” the main Yal asked his echo chamber.

“The most beautiful object will be lost to us if we don’t!” an older version announced in outrage.

“EAT. DEVOUR. GOLD” a barely sentient cloud screamed.

“Thank you Philosophical Me and Floor 1-20 me,” Yal said with a deep frown.

“You need to let her in,” said a darker voice and Yal tensed.

“Who let you back into the chamber? I was pretty sure we all voted to remove you as a jewel in this crown,” Yal asked the cracked mirror.

“You can never erase the unsettled rage. Love took Silver, the humans took Lorsa, and darker forces moved around Mayden. You can lock me up, but even the great and ‘beautiful’ Yal isn’t immune to corruption,” the shadow whispered.

Yal waved it off.

He was constantly purifying the Seeds of the city. All that drank the water, ate the locally grown food, breathed the air… all that dreamed in Verluan walked in a gilded hall of gold.

His backlog of seeds was truly immense and it was desperate to escape.

The echo chamber was more than just a name. It was a function.

“All in favor of rejecting the human?” Yal said and other voices joined in.

Pain suddenly flowed down from his temple and he yelped, pulling himself from the echo chamber to see the tall lithe form of Lorsa standing over his core.

“Knock!” he hissed and she raised a brow. He hated how she used leylines to sneak in and out of any dungeon she desired, his included.

“Knock knock,” she said flatly. Oh, Yal did enjoy the art of good comedy.

“Who’s there?” he asked with a smile.

“Norma Lee,” she responded.

“Norma Lee who?”

“Norma Lee, I’d kick the crap out of you for wasting the queen’s and my own time, but you left a human in your dungeon,” Lorsa growled. He stared at her, not seeing the issue.

“An undefended human who got bored an hour ago from where you dumped her on your thirty-first floor,” she snarled.

“Oh an hour? I was so busy admiring myself,” he mumbled, a little embarrassed. Dungeons and time always had a rocky relationship.

Once they were comfortable, what was an hour? A day? Really, a month?

“Well, she was nearly mauled, but she found one of your gold swords and beheaded the 31st floor boss with luck. I showed up just as she was looting herself a ‘Ruby dress set’ that kills those that exceed its waist line?” she reported, eyes raising in a question.

“Ruby can be unflattening. Emerald is more fitting of someone with something to hold. Sapphire is a good between, but only works well in some galas, but not others,” he explained.

“This is why Ruby is such a mess. She inherited your gaudy tastes,” Lorsa sighed.

Yal could see that. Ruby was… how would one say… tired of sand in her places.

“I kept her close. And she didn’t get all my personality. Only some of my gloriousness was siphoned off when I hit floor 100,” he pointed out and Lorsa smiled weakly.

Right… Yal could have smacked himself.

“The Twins will heal. The Shattering only grazed them. And your first daughter is… was… ” he tried to be soothing. That twin Dungeon was as nuts as a mutant king squirrel saving for winter. He loved Lorsa, but her 100 floor split off kid was bipolar. Her first dungeon was special but it was a shame what happened.

“The siblings want to use Mayden’s 100th floor and what’s left of Silver’s potential mixed with your 150th floor offshoot to make something special. They won’t say what but it’s big,” Lorsa said quietly as they reappeared near the queen.

“Can’t believe that bronze slacker hasn’t hit 100,” Yal snorted.

“He’s a perfectionist,” Lorsa said coolly.

“Perfectly annoying. He edits his floors. His first floors! Does history mean nothing to him?” Yal muttered.

“And Silver… that idiot,” Yal sighed as they watched the queen practise with a short sword, not looking too bad with it in her hands.

“Silver was a back talking, smartass know-it-all who lectured us, but he was our pain in the ass,” Lorsa said sadly with a shake of her head.

“No sign of him?” Yal asked, trying to appear unbothered.

“The trail of silver mutants stretches from the north all the way to the east. Whatever vessel he has taken on to avoid dying is imperfect,” she shrugged.

“What’s east?” Yal asked. His mental mapping skills were a bit rusty since he didn’t often shift focus off himself.

“Ruby, a few smaller Dungeons, the false tree, a few modest cities, and not a lot else,” Lorsa said, having near perfect recall.

Nothing that Silver cared for, when he was still a Dungeon at least.

“And the one who broke his heart?” he asked, his voice almost impossible to hear, but Lorsa did hear it and her hands clenched.

“The ‘woman’ has been taken care of. She calls herself Lare if that means anything,” Lorsa offered. It didn’t but he returned his attention back to the queen.

“Should I accept her? As a contract?” he asked, hating the question.

“She’s wounded and she wants to be close to home,” his elder sibling commented.

“I don’t know the first thing about co-existing with a sad woman,” he complained, crossing his arms and flicking his golden halo of hair.

“Then treat it as an upgrade experience. Like a chatty menu,” Lorsa grinned.

“Menus do not talk,” he said back, childishly.

There was pause.

“Two hours then she leaves.”

“Longer.”

“Three.”

“Longer.”

“Five, not an hour more”

“Longer.”

“…Six.”

Another long pause.

“I refuse to go past a year.”

“Longer.”

Yal curled his perfect lips and his sister raised her hand to smack him.

“Two years,” he bit out.

“Two years as a trial period. You are most gracious, little brother,” Lorsa smiled. He huffed and tried to ignore her.

“Oh don’t sulk, you will see her shine soon. You have a nose for hidden gems,” she said and Yal twitched, hands covering his face

“What makes her so special?” he muttered and Lorsa looked down at her feet.

“She’s a little bit Dungeon. Brilda and I converted her seed partially to a dungeon core. She’s a human hybrid and it has the Sister excited. She said that Hearah could finally show how to stabilize the project she’s been working on,” Lorsa admitted.

Yal peered past her flabby arms, splotchy cheeks, two-left feet, split-ends, awkward thighs, and large ears to peer into the core of the woman and Lorsa was right.

The queen had a little bit of Dungeon in her. Just enough to make unlikely life more possible.

“I’ll contract her… Only if she tells me what the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen is first. I demand to know such beauty,” he said stubbornly.

Less than an hour later, he was making a new sculpture. Of a small round golden potato with elegant fingers and dazzling eyes. Hearah patiently described this ‘Serma’.

This heavenly treasure. The impossible child.

He ended up with a floating godly potato that glowed with gems and inner light.

How wonderful.

“You got her cheeks all wrong!” Hearah commented as she settled into her becoming the floor 100 contract.

“But my potato!” he said in a defensive tone.

This would be the argument they would continue to have for the next sixteen years.