Interlude: ☆OHANASHI☆
Ryu and Ryoma—who had effectively abducted the Dungeon Master—were now conducting a very serious “☆OHANASHI☆” in the chamber housing Behemoth Desert’s dungeon core.
The Dungeon Master was seated in a chair.
The two dragons loomed over him from either side, wearing disturbingly friendly smiles that never reached their eyes.
“Hey, Dungeon Master. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”
“Y-yeah!!”
“That’s wonderful. I’m happy. Ryoma is happy too. I’m sure your friends outside will become our friends as well. They all seem like nice people.”
“Y-yeah!!”
“…But think about it for a second,” Ryu continued, tilting his head slightly. His voice softened—but only on the surface. “Until just a moment ago, you were trying to make Ryoma kill his comrades. You tried to make him kill people who, in the future, would’ve been your friends. You understand how dangerous that’s, right?”
“Y-yeah…”
The atmosphere shifted.
Subtly. But unmistakably.
“And thanks to Ryu’s quick thinking, my rampage was stopped before anything terrible happened,” Ryoma added smoothly. “So first, you should thank Ryu.”
“Ryu… thank you…”
“Yeah. I forgive you. After all, we’re friends… right?”
Ryu leaned in closer.
Close enough that the Dungeon Master instinctively shrank back in his chair.
“…But since we’re friends,” Ryu said gently, “isn’t it only natural to give a small thank-you gift? Think of it as an investment in our future friendship—and a little atonement.”
“A… gift…?”
“Yeah. Something that shows your sincerity. Anything worthy of gratitude would do, but ideally… perhaps your most treasured possession. Wouldn’t that help ensure our friendship lasts forever?”
“A… treasured possession…”
The Dungeon Master’s fingers fidgeted nervously in front of his chest, index fingers poking each other as he thought.
“U-um… I do have something like that…”
“Oh? Then why don’t you tell us?” Ryoma prompted gently.
“It’s something really special… I can only make one every ten thousand years…”
“…!?”
Ryu and Ryoma exchanged a glance.
“…And what would that be?” Ryoma asked.
“Dungeon cores. See that crystal over there? I actually have seven more just like it.”
He pointed.
Floating in the distance was a radiant crystal—beautiful, mysterious, and overflowing with condensed magical power.
“If I pour enough magic into one, anyone can create a dungeon. But I don’t have companions, so I can’t carry a core outside myself. If one is installed elsewhere, though, I can freely teleport between this dungeon and the new one.”
“So,” Ryu said slowly, “if I create a new dungeon and become its Master, I’ll be able to do the same?”
“Exactly! As expected of Ryu!! And if I, as the creator, grant you and Ryoma provisional Master authority in advance, you’ll both be able to teleport freely between the dungeons too!!”
“Ohh… that is convenient.”
“Right? Right? Hehe.”
Ryu’s expression twisted ever so slightly into something far less innocent.
It was a sharp, calculating, entirely untrustworthy grin.
“…Then,” he said, “as your first friend, as compensation for trying to make my companion kill his allies, and as a celebration of your very first friendship… I want one of those dungeon cores.”
“Eh…?”
“If I don’t get it, my heart won’t heal. I won’t be able to move forward emotionally. Look over there—Ryoma looks like he’s dying.”
At the perfect moment—
“Ugh… I… I tried to kill my beloved comrades… cough cough…”
Ryoma dramatically produced ketchup from his item bag and coughed it up like blood, collapsing in a performance devoid of all dignity.
“Th-that’s blood…! He looks so pitiful…”
“Right? If we don’t hurry, we might have to leave with our friends. And after finally becoming friends… that would be heartbreaking, wouldn’t it?”
“Th-then that’s no good!!”
Panic set in.
The Dungeon Master quickly opened a spatial rift and pulled out seven shimmering cores.
Seven legendary crystals—each produced only once every ten thousand years.
Ryu and Ryoma immediately switched expressions.
The dying act vanished, instantly replaced by satisfied smiles.
“Ohhh, so that’s a dungeon core!!”
“Dungeon Master. Keeping one spare should be enough, right?”
“Eh? Y-you’re taking six?!”
“Is there a problem?” Ryu tilted his head. “We’re going to be lifelong friends, aren’t we? Isn’t this fine? Right? Come on, Dungeon Master… say it’s fine.”
“U-ugh… you’re kind of scary…”
“Look at it another way,” Ryu continued smoothly. “You’ll gain six additional dungeons under your control. Forests, oceans, snowy fields, volcanoes—you can build whatever you like. And you’ll be able to visit us whenever you want. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“T-that’s true, but… six… that’s like… sixty thousand years of my effort…”
Pressure returned.
Quietly. Heavily.
The smiles of the two dragons darkened once more.
“…You don’t really have a reason to refuse, do you?” Ryu said softly. “Think of them as cores you created for this very purpose.”
“If you refuse now, after attempting to have comrades killed… well, I can’t promise what will happen next,” Ryoma added casually.
“Uuuu… okay… I’ll give you six…”
“Good. That’s our friend.”
“Alright then. Time to go meet your new friends outside.”
“Uuu… my sixty thousand years… gone just like that…”
And so, the Dungeon Master was taken by the hand—
like a captured alien being led through an unfamiliar world—
and escorted toward the grassy expanse beyond the dungeon-core chamber.
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