We had some time before the first of my creatures would have their first match which thankfully gave Noire time to recover. Unable to produce mana herself she relied on the other dungeon inhabitants to refill her supply. She’d been somewhere around 40% after her stunt in the stands in combination with passive spell use since leaving the dungeon like with the bandits or unconsciousness using telekinesis type skills. To remedy that I took a quick trip down to the infirmary with her to have the others share a bit from their supply. Not wanting to completely ruin their chances in the tournament I only let her take a limited percentage of all their mana stores bringing her back up to around 80%. She had a while to go before the skill strain calmed down, releasing so much magic at once would do that, but in terms of raw power supply she wouldn’t have any issues.

The mood in the infirmary had been much happier than expected. Losers and winners were grouped together as the capitol’s best went around healing injury after injury, a good thing too since many had been teleported in the midst of bleeding out. Despite the stains and broken armor though almost every fighter was chatting with whoever’s cot was positioned next to their own or had found a small group to coerce with. I’d seen similar behavior with adventurers before but it truly seemed strength transcended introductions for professional fighters. Only half an hour prior they’d been swinging blades and lightning at one another, now they were sitting around snacking on festival food while recalling the best moments of the brawl with childish smiles. At first glance they were all a bunch of meatheads laughing about their stab wounds but in a way it was somewhat heartwarming. They’d gone out and given it their all whether they won or lost so there wasn’t anything to be upset with anyone over. Each and every one of them had a different background but walked the same path of combat. Best I could tell the desire to reflect and grow stronger was present in all of them, even the winners were eager to accept advice from those they’d defeated.

My monsters who’d been chatting away with their new human acquaintances quickly came over to me and began regaling me with stories like children after their first day of school. I made sure to congratulate each of them while subtly hinting at a reward for whoever came out on top. I hadn’t been planning anything of the sort but their attitudes were just so contagious I got swept up in the moment. Maybe I could offer one or two of them some land in the 4th floor safe zone? A few oni were already thinking of possible business ventures so I’m sure they’d be interested.

After congratulations were handed out and Noire began absorbing mana from her donors I was surprisingly approached by a few individuals. One was a woman in a white mask who introduced herself as the Jester and the other a hunched over man in white robes who looked like death himself named Assisi. Both had been part of the “Hunting Season” and felt the need to apologize for their behavior. As expected both had been paid by Ringley and his cronies to target my representatives. I knew Ringley had close ties to those in the mercenary industry though and didn’t hold it against them too much. Having done some light research, as my monsters were interested in forming a group of their own one day, I knew it was a field based almost solely on connections. Assisi explained he owed Ringley’s family a favor from a few years back and had decided to take the opportunity to learn about my monsters. The Jester on the other hand simply couldn’t say no. The Dungeon of Oak had close ties to the Nightway family, whom she and the Jolly Masks were representing, and were instructed only the day before to join the Hunting Season. Eager to leave the door open for future business I accepted both their apologies and invited them to visit the Cascade, all while trying to sell them on using my dungeon as a good training ground, something Assisi took particular interest in.

“Do you possess any undead creatures Mr. Sol? My men are specialized in purifying the remnants of those not properly sent to the next life. I used to have them practice on the Dungeon of Fireworks Rocket Imps, Incubi, and Succubi but as that is no longer an option I’ve been keeping an eye out for possible substitutes.” He’d asked me.

Lila’s maniacal laughing came to mind when I answered in a business like tone “They may prove a rough challenge for rookies but the 4th floor’s Rot Gators may be a good fit. I won’t claim to know much about purifying the undead but I believe more powerful foes possess phylacteries or other means of storing the soul?”

Obviously replaying some rough battles in his mind Assisi sighed “You would be correct. Liches in particular are utter chores to purify. A strong team can incapacitate them well enough but unless the soul phylactery, which is typically stored somewhere heavily fortified in their nest, is destroyed, they don’t stay down long.”

“I can only imagine.” I grinned knowing I’d guessed correctly “Well each of our Rot Gators act in much the same way. From my limited testing an organic phylactery is hidden somewhere in their bodies which animates them. Perhaps your men could learn to detect these soul containers through repeated practice?”

Rot Gator: Found in the abandoned wastelands lost to time Rot Gators live in a constant state of death and rebirth. Similar to the litches who created them Rot Gators are held together by a magic phylactery. This phylactery can be found nestled in the gator’s mangled skeleton.

The Saint’s eyebrows rose in obvious interest, “An interesting theory... I’ve learned over time most undead horde magic into a section of their body which keeps them animated, something akin to a brain in most sapients. Learning to sense and target those areas of the undead took many years. I’d love nothing more than to expedite the process in our recruits within a safe environment.”

Sale pitch having been made I bid the pair of mercenary leaders goodbye with promises to meet again. They would make a good addition to my slowly expanding list of acquaintances as mercs make for excellent sources of information. Speaking of acquaintances...

“Mr. Sol do I have your permission to take Ms. Navy to the Iliad Closing Ball?!?” Ezekiel yelled in a deep bow facing towards me.

Trying not to make a scene I dragged him out into the hallway and whispered with a hush, “What are you talking about?”

“I regretfully failed to defeat my opponents in the first match sir...” the young man said in obvious distress “In every sense of the word I have failed to live up to both your and Ms. Navy’s expectations! But please sir! I fear if I do not take her to the Closing Ball I won’t get another chance to make an impression on her for some time!”

Weighing the situation in my mind for a moment I eventually put my hand on his shoulder and said “Listen man, Navy can do whatever she wants. I don’t mind if you invite her but just don’t be weird if she turns you down. All I ask is that if she accepts you watch out for her at this Ball. Not everyone is as accepting as you.”

Ezekiel actually threw his arms around me in a sudden hug and cried out “Thankyou sir! I’ll be sure to take care of her! You have my word!”

“You make it sound like she’s getting... and he’s gone.” I started saying after the running form of Ezekiel. He was a good kid but by God he moved fast when there was something he wanted to do. If anything came of his wooing attempts I’d simply leave judgement up to Navy. I wasn’t about to marry any of my people off just to secure some connections but I certainly wouldn’t mind more allies. Thankfully I felt confidant my monsters knew at least that much about me.

“He’s certainly an interesting one. Wouldn’t you say Milord?”

Barely containing my squeak of surprise as Mulan walked out from behind a stone column I stuttered “Would you have done something different?”

“Not at all. I actually just spoke with Navy regarding him.”

Arching the largest eyebrow I’ve ever managed I laughed “You were having a girl talk?”

She crossed her arms in mock anger “Please. I simply had the pleasure of crossing swords with him. After our exchange I felt it prudent to let Navy know his feelings are genuine, albeit a bit sudden. Mr. Hadraas is a passionate if simple man.”

“Think she’ll say yes then?”

“I doubt it is out of the realm of possibility. At the very least she respected his gall to challenge me at his skill level. Should she accept I fear Mr. Hadraas will be in for some rough training.”

Not wanting to over insert myself into my monster’s personal affairs I was about to drop the subject when a smile crept over my face. With the mage threat under Mary’s watch my mind had started to finally relax, if only long enough to make a stupid joke.

“Hey Mulan?”

“Yes Milord?”

“It sounds like you just upped Ezekiel’s chances in love pretty substantially.”

“I suppose that is a possibility?”

“Then would that make you Ezekiel’s wingman?”

“...”

“...”

“I shall see you in a bit Milord. My next match is coming up.”

Feeling I may have just ruined whatever epiphany she’d had during the match I reached a hand out and smiled “Come on it was just a joke!”

In response my subordinate simply continued walking away in silence.

“M-Mulan?”

“...”

“It was just a joke!”