Stuck As A Dungeon Mob

Hours later, Ed was alone in a room inside the Sanctuary Town Hall. This was sort of like an office for him. He was just about ready to leave this office, however.

He had already fulfilled his duty to the slot winners by granting them their skills. Though the use of their was a bit up to debate as it implied they had a say on it, he just gave them the usual skills. These were the Tough and Charge skills for combat purposes as well a new skill called strength.

It was a skill with a passive strength boost as well as a much greater active boost that ended up with exhaustion. This skill wasn't exclusive to any species, it was a general skill that could be found amongst many creatures. It was rare enough that Ed only found it recently though.

'As long as they level the skills up, however…' There was no such thing as rare skills once Ed got a hold of them.

'Well… it's not entirely true…' There was no way Ed could just go up to the orcs and create new skill inks willy-nilly. Although the system's command sub-skill would work on any of the upgraded orcs, as they had entered the system space before, Ed didn't own them.

'From a moral standpoint, undoing their hard work to distribute it to the masses is no different from treating them like livestock' Ed did not want the orcs to go through such a thing.

That left him with two choices, the first was to insist and make it a transaction. Basically, the orcs would be able to exchange some of their skill proficiency for a new skill. Doing this required Ed to reveal the existence of skills on a consciousness level.

Ed didn't have any problem with that but the second option seemed to be more free and reliable. Since he couldn't treat the orcs like livestock, he could make actual livestock hold the skills.

'I can probably use the system's living room' Raising the super-skilled livestock with the help of the orcs could result in erm… casualties. This task would have to fall onto him exclusively or until the system got a spirit farmer upgrade.

'Why would the system have a spirit farmer upgrade?' The spirits thus far seemed more geared towards factory work. Farms and factories both started with f but some could argue they couldn't be more different.

But knowing that the system likely didn't have a spirit for farming didn't dampen Ed's mood. On the contrary, he was ecstatic.

'Death by swordsman boar' The notion was hilarious but it was a real possibility if he gave the boar a sword skill. Without a spirit farmer, Ed could customize the livestock as he willed it.

'Hm? I think I want to seriously raise a super boar now…' Was Ed's desire anything like the eccentricity of rich people that like to keep dangerous animals as pets?

It would appear so, but a more plausible reason existed. Ed's childishness made him yearn for the sight of a single boar decimating armies at his command. The bewildered, confused, and terrified expression of the soldiers of those imaginary armies appeared in Ed's mind.

He smiled subtly, such a sight would be very fulfilling.

***

While Ed's mind was at a place of bliss, W's mind was scattered. He was so greatly disoriented that he ended up returning to lucidity on and off again. It was as if his mind was spinning between lost bewilderment and panicked clarity of mind.

'It's dark…' This was the one thought that kept repeating in his mind. The rubble had collapsed atop of his body leaving no space for the moonlight to shine past. But… was that actually right?

A shaft of moonlight barely made it past the rubble to highlight W's, no Brennan's expression.

There was no expression.

His face was scorched, calling it disfigured was somehow a compliment. It was horrific, the way Brennan's face seemed to have melted. No… was it that the rubble had melted onto his face causing the bizarrely frightful image?

"Aaa…" A soft painful moan. It was barely audible and inundated with despair. It was a wail that if heard by anyone, would surely cause one to feel unimaginable pity. Brennan Bosque was forced to regain his body in a state no better than when he was almost assassinated.

"Cough…" The pain was insufferable, but Brennan's body was slowly mending. Underneath the scarred and blackened skin, Bloody could be seen trying his best to piece the body back together.

W too had put in his fair share in his half-conscious state. What put W into this state in the first place was his choice to prioritize healing and defending Brennan's body over say protecting himself. Was this an act of selflessness? Or a calculated risk?

"aaaaaaa…." Brennan didn't know nor care about this. The former king wanted to call for help but he uttered only a single drawn-out syllable.

With his eyes in the process of regenerating, Brennan could only attempt to trudge forward without direction. But the weight on his back would not allow it, it would not budge.

Brennan now wanted to let out a mournful wail, but again there was no strength in his body that he could use to express his great regret.

Brennan did not even know what led up to his pitiful state, he felt as if he had just woken up from a blacked-out hungover state. He couldn't quite yet be declared sober but his mind was clearing... Unlike his way which was still blocked by debris…

By a stroke of luck, the struggling Brennan finally felt the weight on his body disappear. His recovering eyes could now see the light, though it couldn't make out any figures. Brennan couldn't complain about the slow recovery speed though, the moonlight was burning his eyes causing him to silently shriek in pain.

This was momentary however as the rays of moonlight were soon after blocked by a looming figure.

"You are not Mite" A daunting voice spoke and said after a couple of seconds. The blinding light returned to hurt Brennan's eyes soon after. The former king did not know if he was to cry or rejoice.

He was free! He was free to crawl on the ground like a bug and cling desperately onto life.

While Brennan's status was miserable, Mite's was still uncertain. Were it not for the fact that might could still be in the rubble Pyre would have razed it to the ground to find him as stupid as that sounded.

When he heard the soft murmurs of an injured human Pyre was both hoping it was Mite and hoping it wasn't. On one hand, Mite was alive but on the other, anyone in the state of the man he found would be dying soon. That was right, the person he found would be dying soon.

Yet, Pyre never even thought to spare them nothing more than a glance. Who was that person to him? Humans were pitifully weak creatures, Mite might not be an exception.

"I was careless…" The dragon hated to admit it but… he had grown attached to the human and in spite of saying he made a mistake by judging Mite with the standards of a dragon, he never lowered his expectations of him.

But from another angle, shouldn't this have been an easy job for Mite? Where had things gone awry? It was possible that Pyre was not to blame, he made no miscalculations. It was instead possible that Pyre's confidence in Mite was betrayed.

Pyre trusted he could get the job done, he was confident. Maybe even arrogant and disdainful of the opponent he picked out for his disciple.

Just as Pyre was on the verge of giving in to his urge to destroy the rubble and debris, to raze it to the ground, there was movement.

Crumbled pieces of the once-mighty palace were rumbling and tumbling, someone or something was struggling underneath the rubble!

Pyre was quick to jump into action. He smashed away the debris brutally yet carefully with his wings just as he had done before. The space he cleared was now covered by his shadow instead of debris.

There were a pair of sharp eyes also covered by the shadow. They had a cold glint accented by their bloody frowning mouth. But this frown was soon replaced by a relieved smile.

"I thought I heard your voice..." The young man under the rubble lifted his head slightly and said chirpily with a weak voice.

"I'll leave it to you" Mite added before seemingly collapsing back onto the ground. The adrenaline from the entire battle must have gone out at that moment.

Pyre did not dare any more questions, Mite was bleeding, and quite severely too. But Pyre was left with a curiosity. What did Mite do?

The extent of the damage was far too small considering the size of the explosion. The previous individual he saw was the perfect proof of that being the case. While Pyre could make some guesses about how Mite had done so, the mighty fire dragon didn't have anyone with whom to share these guesses.

Mite was now unconscious after all.

The dragon didn't dally, he picked up the bleeding boy and placed him down gently on his back. He then slowly but surely flapped his wings to get off the ground and flew away.

The Volcan army who had until a short while ago had been destroying and trashing all they could find were frozen still by the explosion. Minutes later, the subsequent sight of the dragon Pyre made a dangerous worry appear in their minds.

Was the emperor in that explosion?

The army no longer had time to worry about ransacking the city. They were allowed to go wild and free at the behest of the young Volcan emperor. If Mite was injured… how could there be any room left to worry about this petty order.

The Volcan people were not eager to continue their ransacking and promptly retreated towards the direction of the fleeting Pyre.