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Chapter 11

Father Jean-luc delance floated a dozen yards down the corridor, finding a gap in the marble walls. The gap opened into a connecting corridor, positioned at a right angle without any form of door. Curiosity piqued; he followed the new corridor until it stopped abruptly.

Right angles, dead ends, and a bunch of straight hallways. This reminds me of a corn maze… What is this nightmare? How did my brain dream this up? I haven’t been in a corn maze since I was as young as Deckard. Ah, I hope those kids are alright. Still can’t believe Brother Peterson brought a gun into the church. I really need to wake up and get out of here. Thought Jean-luc.

Jean-luc sat down, or tried to. Instead he ended up floating through solid marble. As his old human habit failed to translate into his new form, guiding an incorporeal body in a nonsensical way.

Ugh! This is stupid!

A fresh wave of three respawn timers appeared. A glaring burst compared to the evenly spaced timers. It was as if the goblins were taking turns murdering each other. A thought that irritated Jean-luc in a way his new form could not express.

He had no spine for shivers to run up or down. No nose to wrinkle, and certainly no teeth to grind. Feeling powerless, he focused on something he could do, scanning the names on each countdown and finding Gurk’s to be absent.

How did I manage to pull up the stats before? Thought Jean-luc.

A list appeared in his mind, one that unsettled him more than the goblin’s recursive massacre.

Delance Dungeon Minion Roster

>20x Demonic trees

>10x Goblin(s)

>2x cave slime(s)

>1x dragon(s)

I never passed on my last name, not to a woman, or a church, or a child. How did a god-forsaken dungeon get it? These can’t be my minions… But they have my name…

No way, the first thing listed is a bunch of trees. I couldn’t manage to grow dandelions in the cemetery garden. It is not possible for me to be the dungeon master of trees! How would a tree even grow underground? This isn’t a game. Trees need sunlight.

Looking down the list he had to reread the last entry. Not understanding what it could possibly mean.

Is dragon a euphemism for something? Satan was called a serpent, but that seems out of place here. Who am I to have a dragon as my minion? I’m no one, a priest who failed. Guess that settles it, this is a dream. Brother Peterson probably knocked me upside the head with that tire iron and I’ll wake up in a hospital bed. Serves me right…

Thanks for the weird break not god. Time to face the music. I’ll tell the church what happened, Archbishop Green is a reasonable man. Surely we can find a way to sort everything out. I don’t have minions or an orchard of demonic trees! Pain always wakes me up from a dream, so I’ll just pinch myself and go… make my penance…

Jean-luc looked around, finding a problem with that thought.

Pinch… what? Clever move dream. Don’t give me a body so I can’t pinch myself and wake up. Fine then, we can improvise. Lets see this demon dragon, that ought to scare me awake.

… Once I figure out where it is…

At his thought, additional arrows appeared beneath the dragon, providing name, location, and status details about the creature.

>1x dragon(s)

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

>Satharis Phearyllos Illemby

>Orchard

>Sleeping

Orchard must be his location. Easy enough. Or it would be, if I knew where anything was… Hey, if this is a dream. Why don’t I just picture myself there?

His vision expanded until he could see the entire dungeon from a bird’s eye view. Blurring from the abrupt expansion of his senses. Then it zoomed in, plummeting towards the orchard with the heat of a meteor.

Whoa. Ahhhhh! This isn’t what I meant! Stop!

As abruptly as it began, it ended. Jolting him to a stop above a haphazard scattering of dark trees. Several trees stood solitary, blue leaves sparsely covering trunks that seemed to stretch out of his vision. Rising into the sky alone.

A cluster of trees came into view, incestuosly mingling their branches as they grew into each other. Boughs coalescing at the cavern’s roof into an intricate canopy of leafless branches. Morning sunshine illuminated the trees, drawing his eyes to the source. They were underground, where was sunlight coming from?

Near the edge of his vision he found the void. A blank space he could not scan from afar. Now up close he understood what it was. A ragged opening in the stone. Deep enough that sunlight could pierce the mountain he seemed to be inside of. Almost as if a not-god sized ice cream scooper had attacked the mountain, digging a circular furrow that tore through the rear quarter of Delance Dungeon.

Jean-luc took a moment to appreciate the dawn. Hoping to feel the warmth of sunshine on his skin. He felt nothing.

I can’t remember the last time I watched the sun rise. The past few years have been a blur, there was always something to do, somewhere to be, someone to help. Would it be so bad if this was my life? This peace is…

Two 600s cooldown timers appeared in his mind.

Disrespectful pricks. Why don’t you feed yourselves to the dragon!

No response. Not that he expected one from the green runts. Their conduct thus far made him wonder if they could comprehend anything other than carnage.

Strange, he found the memory of their violence fading from his mind. As if their his lack of a body forbade him from feeling human emotions.

Yeah right. My soul belongs to God. I will never forget the sins of a murderer… Unless God tells me to. This is a dream, and the goblins come back after they die. Hmm… Is it murder if no one stays dead?

Ew.

Nope, not thinking about that.

Jean-luc turned his attention outward. Seeking anything to divert his thoughts. He caught sight of the trees and remembered why he had come.

He scanned the orchard. Seeking any sign of the wyrm. A sprinkle of color caught his eye, reflecting golden hues in the sunlight as a slender tail vanished behind a bough. Chasing after it he zipped around the tree, coming face to face with his terrifying wake up call.

Azure scales covered the wyrm, scattering sparks of gold and red in the dawn. A heat mirage surrounded the dragon, no doubt created by the monster’s fiery soul. Iridescent wings stretched over the tree, shimmering as they flexed with the breeze.

Jean-luc could not tell how he knew the creature before him was Satharis Phearyllos Illemby, but he knew with all his soul that the housecat sized lizard in front of him was the so-called dragon.

(A neat facsimile of what I was envisioning, pic from the playground AI)

If you are a dragon, then my name is Kronos and I’m an Olympic Titan. How are you this small!?

“For the master of life and death you are impressively dumb.” Quipped a voice inside Jean-luc’s head.

The voice was oddly high pitched and carried a melody, like the twinkling of wind chimes dancing in the wind.

Ah! Is that you not-god? You sound different than before. Blabbed Jean-luc.

“How could Hephastus be so cruel as to trap my glorious intelligence dungeon with the likes of you?” Lamented the voice.

Glittering blue scales wiggled in front of Jean-luc’s eyes as the two foot long “dragon” stirred. Iridescent wings reflected red sunlight, scattering bursts of prismatic light throughout the orchard. Light the trees seemed to drink in. Absorbing it through their nocturnal bark.

The dragon gave his wings a few lazy flaps. Gradually increasing their strength until he leapt from the tree. Flying directly through Jean-luc’s face. Teeth and claws slashed through the air as Satharis attacked.

Eek! Thought Jean-luc, until he realized he no longer had a face for the dragon to pounce on.

“Haha! That’s better! Bow before the glorious form of Satharis Phearyllos Illemby!” Cried the voice in Jean-luc’s head.

Glorious form? You’re nothing but an overgrown dragonfly!

“Since you’re a halfwit, let me spell it out for you. I need someone intelligent to spend my time with. Make yourself useful and conjure a dragon worthy of my presence!” Demanded the blue midget.

Do I look like a wizard to you? This is a dream, there is no magic here. Neither arcane or imaginary. Retorted Jean-luc.

Satharis wheeled through the air. Extending his legs he reached out with them, digging his talons into the bark to redirect his momentum for a sharper turn. Vaulting sideways he plucked a beetle out of the air. Chomping through the insect’s exoskeleton with teeth far sharper than any needle.

“You speak with confusion, as if you were born yesterday. Leave me. Outwit the goblins before you show your doltishness again.” Ordered Satharis.

What a mean spirited little newt! Thought Jean-luc, hoping the dragon would hear him.

Jean-luc turned his attention away from the dragon, planning on tucking his consciousness into a hidden nook until this dream ended. Nine respawn timers appeared in his mind. Followed by an alert he did not understand.

6000s

6000s

6000s

6000s

6000s

6000s

6000s

6000s

6000s

Level up!