Chapter 12: 2-4: Go Away, No Lemons Here part 3

Cure-Elim's eyes narrowed as he felt the ancient Dragon's presence recede into the distance. His small world was changing, one way or another, and he had yet to decide if he liked the change.

For centuries, he had relied on his built-in detector of lies and danger to protect him from Divination Magic and silver-tongued lies. Yet not only did his Instinct not go off once in the Ancient One's presence, but he happened to be under a suspiciously convenient Scrying Spell just in time for the Ancient One to destroy it.

That meant one of two things. Either the ancient Dragon was toying with him, or he had an enemy powerful enough to evade his Instinct entirely. As odd as it sounded, he honestly wished that the old fossil was just playing a bit. His Instinct told him that the golden-eyed colossus meant him no harm, and it buzzed just enough in the background to tell him that it wasn't being suppressed. Any Scrying from him would be harmless in the grand scheme of things since he had no real reason to wish Cure-Elim harm, meaning at worst a few days of data had been recorded.

But he had looked genuinely alarmed when the Scrying Spell broke, which meant he was either a good enough actor to fool his centuries of experience or he had no clue that it was there at all. Which led to the second, more chilling option.

Someone with the means and ability to cast high-level Scrying Magic had set their sights on his home. Someone had been watching for an indeterminate amount of time without him having the faintest idea. Any secrets he had were as good as lost, and centuries of hard work spent toiling in the darkness could be made utterly worthless.

Unfortunately, in Cure-Elim's experience, the worst possible outcome was usually the correct one.

"Dammit." He growled, turning away. A few hundred souls' worth of Wild Magic wards were added to his inner sanctum, layering on top of the ancient Dragon's 'Iron Curtain', whatever that was.

As odd as it might seem, Cure-Elim had very little reason to doubt the old fossil. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the Dragon could wipe him off the face of the planet in seconds, he had sensed that much from twenty kilometers away. He carried himself like a harmless old drake, until you listened between the words of what he said. Until you realized the sheer magnitude of what he had to do to reach the age he was at.

He was a survivor of a war large enough to utterly annihilate thousands of Worlds. He never once lied to Cure-Elim, which meant that his casual comment about a 'war of information' had likely been an event large enough to make him cautious of even the slightest half-truth. He mentioned he was the 'retired' Developer, which meant that he was likely old even before the 'First Ones' took shape.

He had seen Worlds live and die. Seen civilizations rise and fall. Hell, he had probably burned a few of them to the ground by himself. He knew things no living being could ever speak of, recall histories of untold millions. Just judging by his brief mention of Wild Magic alone, he probably forgot more about the art in a year than most of their Race would learn in a lifetime.

Yet he was settling down. Sleeping more often. He knew he was getting too old, and was likely looking for someone to take up his mantle so he could spend the rest of his days in peace. He wasn't like the Brightness Dragon Lord, who feigned the air of a war hero despite being on the losing side of the war. He was a living, breathing weapon still just as capable of ripping enemies to shreds now as when he fought in his youth.

Not to mention the fact that in two days, the Ancient One had literally handed Cure-Elim more data than he had gathered in the past two centuries… on a silver platter, with the promise of more if he ever wanted it.

"[Summon Lesser Undead]." He carefully unwrapped the World Item and set aside the cloth. It had clearly pained the old drake to hand it over, yet he still gave it willingly. If this did what he had said… then this truly fit the epitaph of 'World Item'. "Undead, bring me a cauldron of water." He ordered without glancing up.

The Deep Darkness Dragon Lord had probably only gotten his World Item by chance, likely by stumbling on one of the methods the Ancient One had described. If he managed to defeat the Player who held it, the Item probably wasn't all that powerful to begin with.

But this…

Clang.

Cure-Elim turned to the sound of a cauldron being set down. The Skeleton stared hollowly forward, waiting for its next order. He strode forward, dipping the chalice into the clouded water of the nearby stream. The result was instant—it changed from a white mixture to a water so clear it was only visible by the sheen on its surface.

"Remain still." He ordered. Then he tossed the water onto the Skeleton Warrior.

Around the bones, like some bizarre reverse acid, flesh began to form around the bones. Ligaments formed first, then muscles, then skin. Within moments, a perfectly preserved Zombie stared blankly forward with lifeless eyes.

Fascinating.

Again, he dipped the chalice into the water. He eyed the clear water, narrowing his eyes. He was immune to poison and mind control, meaning that the worst that could happen was that he would spit out a mouthful of rancid water. He tilted his head back and poured the clear liquid between his jaws.

For a moment, it was as if someone had sounded a gong inside of his skull. He stumbled, disoriented, until the effects wore off. He rubbed his watering eyes for a moment, then blinked in shock.

His joints felt loose, as if freshly oiled. His eyes no longer felt dry. His mind sped forward at disorienting speeds, processing the distant drips of water he could now catch on the edge of his hearing.

This Item could do more than heal… it could improve. It had fixed the slow numbness all Undead suffered from, tuned up his senses, and made him feel a good two centuries younger. It had fixed his mental degradation—mental degradation he hadn't even realized he was suffering from.

"Gather some of the high-Level Undead." Cure-Elim began to grin, twirling the chalice between two claws. "I have some experiments to run."

——————————————————————————

I smiled to myself. I liked to think that the Vampiric Dragon had by now fiddled around with the chalice, verified that what I said was true, and tested it on himself. It was a waste if he didn't use it personally, after all. Even a Mirrored World Item is valuable, and I prefer that I see a return on my investments one way or another.

See, [Hygieia's Chalice] had one more property that I failed to mention.

When used, it changed your Karma Value to absolute zero.

He would shift from near the True Evil range to True Neutral in under a second, likely without ever even realizing it.

Ah, yes… I've just been messing with him for a few days and already he's giving me plenty of amusing results. I can't wait to see how far I can push him before he snaps.

"Ancient-sama."

I blinked, turning to face the door to my forge. "Ah, Demiurge. Hello."

"Greetings, Ancient-sama." Demiurge bowed low. "I beg your pardon for the interruption."

I absently cast a small [Time Freeze] on my slowly-heating project, a lower-Tier version of [Time Stop] that was used to prevent an Item from being altered in any way while it was active. "It's not an issue. What do you need?"

"Well, I believe that Nazarick would do well with a few unifying events, so as to prevent social relations from decaying over time." He began. "Holidays of sorts, to give them limited time off in a manner that I can predict and plan for. I brought the idea before the Council, but to my surprise Rubedo informed me that the Supreme Beings had holidays of their own. One of which is… tomorrow?"

I blinked, mentally counting the days. "Ah… yes, actually. We do have many holidays, and the one she was referring to is called 'Halloween'."

"Fascinating." He adjusted his glasses, causing them to glint in the light of my forge. "Then, in that case, I cannot see a single reason why anyone in Nazarick would object to following the same traditions as the Supreme Beings. That is, if it's all right with you…?"

"Perfectly fine." I assured him. "It might take a bit of explaining, but I'm sure you've noticed most of the holidays we have without even realizing it. We decorate the Tomb oddly in accordance with tradition every now and again, just to keep with the holiday spirit."

"Most excellent. And this 'Halloween' that is tomorrow, what is it?"

I smiled faintly. "It's… a tribute, of sorts, to the war we fought against the Monsters. The official name for it is All Hallows Eve, and it precedes a much more solemn holiday that takes place in the next few days. See, on the second of the eleventh month, we take a day to respect the souls of those we have lost. To sickness, to famine, to the enemies we fight, to the perils of time. All Souls Day. The day before that is All Saint's Day, where we celebrate the heroes who have laid down their lives for us to continue living, both those we know and those who have been forgotten."

"But all that is awfully solemn." I cracked a grin. "And not everyone is willing to get all weepy-eyed without first getting all of the crazy out of our system. So before our period of respect, we take the time to make fun of the monsters. Legend has it that the veil between worlds is thinnest on that day, so the ghosts of the fallen can view the world from afar. We give them one hell of a show, too."

I smiled faintly. "We dress up as a terrible copy of the monsters we face, or as flattering image of a hero we admire. We carve pumpkins and set small candles inside to represent shooing away evil spirits." I shrugged. "It's not exactly a formal occasion. Children would wander around in their costumes and get handed candy for their costumes, while adults would often compete to see who could wear the most realistic or scandalous version of a monster outfit."

Demiurge looked up from the notepad he had pulled from nowhere. "Fascinating! I do recall several times when Nazarick was decorated with many carved pumpkins, but I could never fathom as to why!"

"Well, now you know." I cracked a grin. "Here in Nazarick we're pretty much the monsters that people fear anyway, so we would always have a bit of fun messing with it. We would pick a different species to dress up as, even if our costumes were terrible." My grin widened as a memory flickered to life. "There was even this one time Ulbert lost a bet to Touch Me and he had to wear a slutty elf costume for the entire day, complete with the wig. Chagama never let him live it down, she probably still has pictures somewhere…"

I trailed off, wincing slightly. "Never mind. I trust that's enough for you to go on?"

"More than enough, Ancient-sama." Demiurge bowed low once more. "I'll leave you to your arts."

He left through the doorway leading into the hellish wasteland of Floor 7. I shook my head in amusement, turning back to my forge and removing the stasis spell.

Word count 2000