Your Majesty, Dinner Is Ready. - Chapter 70

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 70: C-rank Dungeon — Sanctuary of Rest Purification (3)
“You do have peculiar tastes….”
Lucius muttered the observation in a measured tone.
“An elf who worships a demon god hardly qualifies as normal, does it?”
“Thank you for saying what I couldn’t bring myself to voice.”
After finishing his work, Lucius continued at a leisurely pace while taking a brief rest.
“But do you truly believe it’s necessary to labor so earnestly for a creature that doesn’t exist in reality—merely a Dungeon Specter?”
It was a strikingly unconventional question.
A pointed inquiry sharp enough to shake the very foundation of this Dungeon itself.
“Is this a question meant to test my character?”
“You’ve already proven your integrity multiple times, Kar. This is merely personal curiosity.”
Ding.
A pure bell tone swept across my head.
As I quietly sensed the malign energy transmitted through my crown—energy harmful to Heretic Cultists—Lucius spoke once more.
“Explorers tend to develop a pattern: the longer their careers, the less they regard Dungeon Specters as ‘people.’ When they repeatedly visit the same Dungeon for rewards, they encounter only beings locked in identical behaviors, endlessly repeating the same words and deeds.”
To be called intelligent, a being must think and act according to its own will.
People sealed within a Dungeon are far closer to golems—mere automata repeating prescribed patterns.
Soulless puppets pursuing mechanically, without end, the philosophies and dreams their original selves once held.
“As a Temple administrator, I have observed countless explorers over the years.”
Lucius grasped the bell handle and shook it, a bitter smile crossing his face.
“In my experience, by their third year, explorers begin to see Dungeon Specters as beings they may treat carelessly without consequence.”
The first stage is neglect and coldness.
At least they still regard them as fellow people.
“By year five, they become comfortable killing or tormenting them as circumstances demand. And from year ten onward, they cease to view them as people at all—treating them instead as mere ‘convenient tools for exploration.'”
Bait for locating monsters.
A means of disarming traps.
Disposable shields of flesh.
Dungeon Specters endured a pitiful level of treatment at the hands of explorers.
“Priest, do you think I’ll become that way someday?”
“I hope not. I’d rather believe otherwise.”
The priest’s dark eyes fixed on empty space.
“In any case, no matter how diligently we care for these patients, the truth remains: it carries little real meaning. Even if their health improves because of our efforts, once the Dungeon resets, won’t they return to their original state?”
“That’s certainly so.”
“Worse still, the rewards here are meager. In a sense, we’re engaged in meaningless drudgery with nothing to show for it.”
His words held truth.
Yet the world contained far too many matters that could not be judged by righteousness alone.
“Toil without recompense—precisely. That is what service is. Those who ruthlessly calculate profit and loss could never engage in such seemingly pointless work.”
“Are you saying you’re not a rational person, Kar?”
“Precisely: I wish not to be one.”
I am not easily swayed by emotion.
Or rather, my inner landscape is so barren that I scarcely register feeling at all.
So I deliberately cling to judgments that cannot be made without emotional conviction.
Otherwise, the foundation of that most vital entity—the self—would perpetually tremble, unstable.
“Oh, the patients seem just slightly improved… ugh, suddenly twenty of them cry out in pain at once! Kyaaah!”
The demon-kin explorer erupted with energy, her voice ringing out.
“I’ll help, Barthimir! Pendrick, come quickly!”
I immediately administered appropriate measures to those showing signs of mass contagion or critical deterioration threatening their lives.
Only after bustling about did the ward finally fall quiet.
“…Are you certain you don’t want to switch roles?”
Upon returning and dropping wearily to the floor, Lucius ventured the suggestion cautiously.
I refused without hesitation.
“Absolutely not.”
I could never surrender work that stirred my heart so vibrantly.
“I’m going to die…!”
Barthimir staggered over and collapsed against my thigh, using it as a pillow.
“Sleep, sleep, my dear.”
As I patted his shoulder gently, the demon’s eyes closed soft and swiftly.
“He seems exhausted.”
“No—it’s a symptom of the Sudden Nightmare Secret Art.”
A curse-like Secret Art I had learned from a fraudulent Secret Art Tome taken from the Sin Library.
Every time I sleep, the fatigue vanishes completely, but in its place comes narcolepsy and unending nightmares.
Lucius let out a hollow laugh.
“…There’s a curse on him, so why not heal it? The High Priest even offered to treat him directly.”
“Barthimir loves calamities of body and mind.”
…….
Perhaps because I’d oversimplified the facts, the courteous priest’s face twisted as though he’d bitten into a bug.
“Ugh…”
Lucius gazed intently down at the demon’s nightmare-ravaged face and spoke.
“You’re both very strange. You and Kar alike.”
“Are we?”
“But precisely because you are, I suspect that even ten years from now, you’ll treat the Dungeon Specters as people. That’s just the feeling I get.”
It was a remarkably clear-sighted observation.
“That’s only natural.”
A Dungeon Specter is a sentient being.
NPCs are people, just like us.
It’s admittedly an irrational line of thinking.
And precisely because it lacks rationality, I will gladly hold this view close to my heart.
Isn’t that what an “emotional” judgment is?
“Barthimir.”
After wiping his forehead—already slick with cold sweat—I roused him, and the calamity-collecting dark mage dragged himself up with difficulty.
His entire face was twisted in anguish.
“…This Secret Art. I want it gone.”
“That’s what I warned you about. Bear with it. Removing it will only complicate matters.”
“Ugh…”
“Let’s get back to work.”
We threw ourselves back into patient care.
“Kar, that’s patient twenty-three!”
“Coming!”
It was relentless.
Not even a full day had passed, and there was barely time to rest—I was already utterly exhausted.
‘…I’m alive.’
At least in this moment, I was farther from death than anyone.
***
Every calamity rarely seen in the real world had gathered here.
Yet despite his weariness, Barthimir’s eyes still gleamed with fervor.
“Oh! A disease where the eyes, nose, and mouth are replaced with new ones every day. That’s not bad, is it?”
“It’s terrible. The brain gets replaced eventually.”
“What about that dwarf’s curse? Isn’t it just the body turning red?”
“That’s a horrifying curse where the blood transforms into the host’s shape while the host becomes blood.”
But the demon, who had started out giddy like someone out shopping, gradually grew despondent.
“There’s nothing here worth accepting into my body…”
“Of course not. If these were mild calamities, would you have sought out this Temple?”
“Ah, that’s true.”
“Just wait a little longer. Once things settle down, I’ll set something aside for you.”
Even as dawn broke, we didn’t rest.
We took turns grabbing brief sleep while tending to the patients.
《One day has finally passed!》
《Time remaining until Clear Condition met – 4 days.》
Day two of the exploration.
At last, the Clear Condition counter had decreased by one.
But the volunteers’ minds and bodies had already become completely worn to rags.
“…I’m exhausted.”
Lucius, sitting slumped on the floor while holding a bell, let out another hollow laugh.
“My whole body feels heavy already, and I have to work four more days like this.”
“I’m dying too.”
Even though my ‘Stamina’ stat had risen considerably, the exhaustion had piled up so rapidly in such a short time that it wasn’t fading well.
By sheer intensity alone, it deserved its C-rank Dungeon rating.
《So you really are capable of feeling the concept of “hardship,” after all.》
“This is why volunteer work is so avoided even within our faith.”
Lucius choked down a morning bread roll while pushing back his disheveled hair.
“It’s hardly surprising that even the most devout faith wavers when you’re pushed to your limits for five days straight in a ward where death lurks at every corner. In fact, four of my brothers and sisters in this place have lost their lives.”
“That’s regrettable. It truly is a difficult Dungeon.”
Thanks to my tireless efforts moving about, all of us had survived, but this was the sort of Dungeon where ordinarily at least one person didn’t make it out.
“It’s this grueling, and the reward is merely a blessing that lasts a week? And yet you still find joy in this nursing work?”
I nodded slightly, leaning against the wall.
Now that Lucius seemed to have finally accepted my heart as genuine, he nodded along without any further objection.
“If it brings joy to Kar, then it brings joy to us of the Harmony Faith as well. The happiness of the unfortunate is our delight.”
Was I truly so wretched that even a Harmony Faith priest felt compelled to pity me?
Come to think of it, I’d been abandoned by my parents on both sides—a doubly orphaned half-elf.
The past of “Heretic Cultist Kar” began when my own blood family sold the abomination of a half-elf to the cult of the evil god.
I fell silent for a moment, then leaned the back of my head against the wall and spoke.
“I hardly think I’m the sort of person who deserves pity.”
So accustomed had I become that even considerable hardship could no longer shake me.
Couldn’t that be called a reasonably peaceful life?
Compared to those exhausted by endless misfortune who end up driving their own lives into ruin, I was blessed indeed.
“…….”
The drowsy-looking priest did not answer, merely casting his gaze upon me.
It was a burdensome look that would make any wicked Heretic Cultist feel as though their body were melting away.
“Let’s get back to work.”
Soon cries of anguish began echoing from various corners of the ward, and we returned faithfully to our respective duties.
“Kar! Patient 330!”
“Understood!”
A curse that spewed out endlessly from eye sockets as delicate creatures made of fingernails; a charming Extreme Poison that, left unchecked, would possess the body and wear it like a host; a straightforward disease in which all internal organs liquefied.
The meddling of all manner of dark mages and Heretic Cultists in their prime showed no cessation, and chaos reigned without pause.
Nursing work that felt like senseless toil—one mistake or delay and everyone would be in danger.
《Second day of futile struggle!》
《Remaining time until Clear Condition is met – 3 days.》
Second day of volunteer nursing.
Pendrick had worked so relentlessly that he nearly collapsed.
If Lucius hadn’t cast the Healing Miracle in time, our prodigy swordsman would have been lying in a sickbed by now.
“I should have rested more before coming in if I’d known it would be like this!”
– …Hang in there, Pendrick!
《Such is the burden we bear.》
《Remaining time until Clear Condition is met – 2 days.》
Fourth day of service.
As our movements grew sluggish, even Valentin, who had been giving orders, threw himself into the abyss of endless nursing.
He’d been moving so frantically that his complexion had turned alarmingly pale.
“Are you alright, Paladin?”
“…No issue. Compared to the sin and corruption that troubles the world, such mere overwork is a trivial opponent.”
His breath continued in ragged gasps, and he was limping, so his words lacked conviction.
I wrung out the Sky Invader, soaked with sweat, and wiped my brow with my arm.
‘The limits are drawing near.’
My mind felt more exhausted than from the forced march through the same C-rank Nightmare World.
There, I could at least relieve stress by slaughtering priests and dark mages that spawned at random, but here there was no release—only mounting accumulation—which could hardly be good for my mental health.
Still, I could endure for now.
At least I could still walk without stumbling.
“Ugh….”
Barthimir, who’d been wavering, suddenly lost the strength in his legs and nearly fell, so I caught him.
But since my own weight was lighter, we both tumbled down together.
“…Sorry.”
“Let’s get up.”
I steadied the demon’s body, which had practically leaned into me, and helped him to his feet.
Barthimir seemed dizzy and held onto me for a moment before suddenly asking.
“Five days of nursing is just the standard Clear Condition, right? The rewards you mentioned before entering the Dungeon must be Hidden Pieces.”
“That’s correct.”
“Then how do we obtain the Hidden Pieces? Can we just keep nursing like this?”
It was about time he grew curious.
As I pondered how to answer, Valentin, who was far away, somehow heard our conversation and approached.
“Barthimir, the Sanctuary of Rest Purification is a Dungeon whose Hidden Piece remains undiscovered. Seven years have passed since its creation, yet nothing has been revealed. We even exhausted all the Wisdom Miracles granted by Artaine.”
“Hmm, have you searched everywhere inside the Temple? Or outside?”
“I’ve already observed every corner of the Dungeon’s perimeter thoroughly, but I couldn’t discern anything at all.”
The Holy Knight Genchis finished speaking and turned his head slightly toward me.
His eyes held something innocent and eager.
Perhaps it was a star’s destiny never to disappoint a fan’s expectations.
“Yes. I know.”
“…As expected.”
Valentin raised his eyebrows and brought his clenched fist to his chest.
“Would you be willing to tell us?”
“Of course I plan to teach you. However….”
I surveyed the Hospital Ward around me.
The sudden anomalous symptoms erupting sporadically were the same across the board, yet everyone’s condition had grown quite stable.
It meant the time had come for ‘that person’ to arrive.
“For now, let’s focus on care. There are patients waiting for our attention.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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