The Road to Carriage*5
And so, we suddenly changed our plans.
We decided to stay in the royal capital for one night and return to Panis Village tomorrow after stopping by a nearby dungeon.
“Lisas-san, have you gone to dungeons often before?”
“Yeah. Back when I was still a knight apprentice, I used to go for pocket money.”
“Oooh...”
Man, it really helps having someone experienced around. Incredibly helpful.
“Well, you know. Once I dive in a little, I think I’ll get my sense back. If it’s just meeting one monster and turning back, I can guarantee your safety.”
“How reliable...!”
“Then since I’m here too, we’ll be fine with up to two monsters!”
“How very reliable...!”
Mishisia-san, bow in hand, was smiling brightly.
She could fight too, huh. I really am blessed with my party.
“Then since I’m here too, that makes three monsters.”
“That’s no good.”
“Please don’t.”
… When it comes to combat ability, no one beats me in uselessness! That’s kinda sad!
Anyway, after spending one night at an inn in the royal capital, the next day—
“Even staying at an inn turned out to be a good learning experience… It was nice to see firsthand what an inn in the royal capital is like.”
“The inn at Panis Village is cozier though!”
“Well, the comfort level in Panis Village is kinda off the charts…”
With some valuable knowledge gained from the stay, we set off toward a “pretty ordinary dungeon”!
Apparently, the dungeon wasn’t too far away—just a small detour on our way back from the capital. There was a road leading that way, and some adventurers heading there too, so we probably wouldn’t get lost. Most importantly, we had Lisas-san to guide us.
“So what kind of dungeon is your usual one, Lisas-san?”
“Calling it my ‘usual’ one sounds strange, but… let’s see. Well, it’s really just an ‘ordinary dungeon.’ You’ll understand when you see it—it’s the kind of place adventurers go to earn money.”
Yeah. Looking at the adventurers walking toward the dungeon at the same time as us—they’re clearly dressed for battle.
Makes me realize that the adventurers visiting Panis Village dress more like they’re exploring, not fighting.
“The deeper you go, the stronger the monsters get. In the shallow floors, you’ll see slimes or caterpillars and such, but deeper down there are giant spiders, goblin swarms… even a Dullahan once showed up.”
“Whoa—”
The shallow floors sound manageable even for me, but groups of monsters? No thanks.
And Dullahans are those headless ones, right? Yeah, I absolutely don’t wanna meet one.
Though I am curious about how they even move. I kinda wanna ask, ‘Hey, where’s your brain?’
“As far as I know, there are six basement floors. I’ve only gone down to the fifth. I’d guess the sixth is the deepest.”
“I see. So the sixth floor must be really dangerous then?”
“Yeah. My senior once got badly injured there. He was lucky to make it back alive.”
Whoa… dungeons really are life-or-death places, huh.
Makes me realize again just how safe and cozy our dungeon is... No wonder people call it a “weird dungeon.”
On the way there, Lisas-san lectured us about “things to watch out for in dungeons,” and we headed toward it.
After about an hour by carriage from the royal capital—
we left the plains, entered the woods, then deeper into the forest…
Following the winding path through the trees, we finally saw it—
“Whoa... it’s exactly like what you picture when you hear the word ‘dungeon.’ That’s a real dungeon. Such dungeon. Very dungeon.”
There it was—a cave that just screamed DUNGEON!
Yes, this is it. This is what a dungeon should be.
… And near the entrance, you could see traces of adventurers camping, some trading tools for monster spoils, others chatting.
A lively adventurer hub—completely different from our place.
“Are those monster pelts?”
“Yeah. Probably horned rabbits. The small bottles being traded are likely spider venom. That stuff can be used in medicine.”
“Whoaa.”
Used in medicine, huh… So it’s got mana in it, I guess.
I’d love to take some home and analyze it.
After all, to master this world, you’ve gotta master fantasy power.
Not that I’m trying to take over the world or anything—but, you know, it’s worth understanding.
“Alright, let’s go! I haven’t had much dungeon experience myself, so I’ve been looking forward to this!”
“Alright, alright. But be careful. Even shallow floors can get people killed.”
Mishisia-san was all fired up, which got me all jittery and excited too.
Well, to be fair, I’d probably be jittery even without her.
… But yeah, gotta calm down.
Lisas-san’s right—people can die here.
Alright then, into the dungeon we go!
“It’s a caveee.”
“Yeah, that’s what a dungeon usually is...”
Inside, it really looked like a classic dungeon.
Basically, it was a cave. The path cut into the cliffside walls ran mostly straight with the occasional bend, sometimes branching off here and there.
“… It’s a flat layout, huh.”
“Yeah. Now that you mention it, that’s true. Most dungeons are like that—clearly divided into floors, with each one being a flat structure. The Panis Village Dungeon really is unusual.”
So ours is weirdly built, huh.
Well, I know why.
This dungeon spawns monsters, which means it attracts humans who want to hunt them—and probably also expects those monsters to kill some humans and feed the dungeon in turn.
At the very least, if it wants people to come inside, it can’t have a confusing layout where nobody ever comes back. That’d make it infamous and scare people off.
So yeah, having an easy-to-follow route makes sense.
“Flat, simple paths also make it easier to fight monsters.”
“Ah, yeah, that’s true. Fighting in cramped places versus open straight ones makes a huge difference.”
Ahh, I see. Makes sense.
Corners mean blind spots, which means ambushes—more accidents.
More accidents mean unpredictable deaths.
And for a dungeon running long-term, unpredictability is bad. You want stable results—for managing resources, comparing adjustments, and keeping balance.
Inclines also affect battle styles—visibility, potential energy, everything changes.
I can only imagine since I’m not a fighter myself, but still.
So yeah, a dungeon made of “simple, flat paths with few corners” is probably the easiest type to manage.
Huh… That’s a new perspective neither our dungeon nor the royal capital’s has. Makes sense though. Makes sense!
“… Hmm, monster up ahead. Alright, Asuma-sama, please stay back.”
And then, the moment came.
I watched nervously from behind Lisas-san as—out of the shadows—oozed something…
“… Woooah.”
A “slime.” Yeah. But not the cute, round, bouncy kind.
This thing looked like—more slime-slime. Like, “viscous! acidic! corrosive enzymes!”—the kind of shape designed purely to kill humans.
“Ah, it’s a slime.”
“This is a slime!? It looks nothing like the ones we have back home!?”
“Well, there are all kinds of slimes... Yeah, the ones in Panis Village are unusually docile, you know...”
Wait, what!? Ours are the weird ones!? I thought those were the standard slimes!
“The Panis Village slimes grow up in pure, mana-rich water and get fed good fertilizer, right? That’s why. These ones eat humans.”
“THEY EAT HUMANS!?”
“Some don’t, but yeah, this type does. Anyway—there we go.”
While I was losing my mind, Lisas-san swung his sword and neatly sliced the slime-like thing in half. It writhed once, then went still and flattened on the ground.
“… The world I knew was small.”
“W-well… there’s actually a lot of regional variation when it comes to slimes. Some are dangerous, some aren’t. The ones in Panis Village are exceptionally harmless, but don’t think that’s the norm.”
Yeah… yeah, okay… So maybe the visitors to our dungeon thought, “These look like slimes, but must be some other creature,” huh...
Should we just start calling them “water drop fairies” or something?
Though… they are pretty squishy…
“So, we’ve found a slime—what now? Should we head back?”
He’d said before, “We’ll go back after meeting one monster,” but come on, ending here’d be lame.
“If possible, I’d like to see a bit more...”
“Yeah, right!? Just one mean slime? That’s no fun, Lisas-san!”
Since Mishisia-san agreed, Lisas-san nodded. “True enough. That would be unsatisfying.”
And so, we continued exploring.
“I’d also like to show you something with a bit more fight in it...”
“Thanks, Lisas-san…”
“I just don’t want to be seen as the guy who only managed to kill one slime.”
“No one’s thinking that though…”
Still, he pressed on deeper into the dungeon—and then—
“Ah, something a bit more fitting now.”
At last, the next monster appeared. Mishisia-san and I watched eagerly as—
“A Hellhound. Though it’s a small one.”
“That’s way too small to be called a ‘hound of hell!’ That’s a toy breed!”
A small dog, baring its fangs and growling! A tiny Hellhound!
And thus, the mini Hellhound was cleanly defeated.
Lisas-san was amazing—he struck it down in one smooth motion as it charged straight at him. So reliable.
“… Well, that’s about what you get on the first floor. Stronger monsters show up from the second floor down.”
“Yeah. That felt like a real beginner-level experience.”
The slime was slow, and the mini Hellhound was small—neither could probably deal a fatal blow.
Perfect for beginners.
“Now then. It’s too small to bother skinning… Hellhound pelts don’t fetch much anyway. Asuma-sama, any preferences?”
“Hmm, not really.”
Since this dungeon was about hunting monsters, the usual thing would be to take back fangs or hides to sell.
But if it barely brings any profit… meh.
“So it’s fine to just leave it here?”
“Yeah. Things inside a dungeon disappear over time… or rather, the dungeon probably reclaims them.”
Ah, I see. So the dungeon cleans up the corpses itself. Makes sense—otherwise this place would be a gooey mess of slime remains by now.
“Right. Not just here, but on any floor, adventurers usually leave behind monster guts and bones. They’re not worth much.”
“Makes sense.”
Yeah, you’d leave the trash behind. Part of the dungeon’s “hospitality,” I guess—keeping it clean for adventurers.
Or maybe it just reabsorbs the stuff to recover mana.
… Wait.
“… I think I might’ve been misunderstanding something.”
“Huh? What?”
A realization hit me—and it gave me chills. Dungeons are way more efficient than I’d thought.
“I always thought the reason dungeons release monsters was to lure in humans hunting for resources, then kill just enough of them. Humans inside provide information; when they die, the dungeon absorbs their brains and gains even more. So I figured that was the basic business model.”
Both Mishisia-san and Lisas-san nodded, like, yeah, that’s what we heard too.
But I’d overlooked something. And now that I’d realized it, I had to admire how clever this dungeon really was.
“… But that logic doesn’t only apply to humans, does it? It applies to monsters too.”
“… Since monster corpses—especially their brains—also contain information…”
Exactly. The parts adventurers leave behind—like the brain.
If the dungeon absorbs that biological storage device, it probably earns more mana than it spent creating that monster in the first place.
That’s when I realized it—dungeons are terrifyingly efficient.
What do you think about this chapter?
