Cherreads

Chapter 14 - Debt is the Devil’s Currency

DUNGEON FILE 014:

DEBT IS THE DEVIL'S CURRENCY

Darkness.

My eyes snapped open, only to be met with—nothing. Again. I expected to maybe wake up in the Silver Castle, fighting to escape the three knights again, or maybe Mendell realized I was dead and he'd kindly help get my corpse to a safe place.

Fine, maybe that's expecting too much.

But what is this? Was I still in the [Essence] Void?

No light. No shape.

The first and only sense to hit me immediately was… the rank, putrid stench of rotten flesh.

Ew ew ew!

That jerked my body awake, limbs tangled, something cold and wet sticking to my bare skin.

"Gods above—" I screamed, voice bouncing off the cramped, hampered walls. I clawed upward, trying to stand, but there was no space, the ceiling was barely leaving any room to kneel above my head.

Overall, my joints felt like when one has been stuck in the same position for far too long, but a hundred times worse.

My breath quickened, pulse roaring in my ears as I attempted to adapt to the stiffness of my muscles.

And then, slowly, my eyes adjusted.

…I wished they hadn't.

Corpses.

I was surrounded by them.

Piled haphazardly on top of each other, twisted limbs and rotting faces frozen in their final expressions of terror. The bodies were in varying states of decay, or rather, mending—skin sloughing off in ribbons, bone peeking through where flesh had rotted away completely and was being rewoven by the Dungeon's curse.

Flesh wriggling, sinew snapping back into place, stitching over exposed bone. The smell of decay mingled with something sharper, like the scent of newly formed flesh, and it turned my stomach, making me choke on her own breath.

What the fuck?!

My muscles tightened further in shock and disgust now, chest rising and falling as panic started to take hold. My fingers fumbled stupidly in the pitch black, patting down her own body for my sword or satchel or—anything—only to find... nothing.

No armor, no tools, no scraps of her newly fashioned tunic.

Then, slowly, my face paled.

…I was naked!

Not even my undergarments were mercifully intact, which made it all the more traumatizing when I was trapped in a fucking coffin surrounded by corpses.

Gods help me.

My hands continued aimlessly fumbling in the dark, yanking blindly for the edges of the box at what felt like heavy fabric—a curtain? A drape? I didn't care.

I needed to get the fuck out of this coffin, this Dungeon, this situation. 

Unexpectedly, the curtain didn't resist. Instead, it gave way all at once with a simple shhhrip.

"—W-WAIT, SHIT—!"

I landed flat on my face with an undignified thud. The air whooshed from my lungs, and the scratchy kiss of a dusty, itchy carpet on the dirt floor greeted my bare skin.

"Well," A voice drawled, snapping a ledger in their hands shut with a theatrical thwack. "Look who decided to drop in! I know your injuries were rather horrendous, but it did take you quite a while to revive, sleepyhead!"

Damn it!

The familiar untroubled shopkeeper of Niamh's Curiosities & Undying Relics was perched on the edge of a dusty barrel as a makeshift chair, legs crossed, chin resting lazily on her palm. 

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I groaned. "How the hell did I end up here?"

Niamh smirked, utterly unfazed by my nakedness as well as the corpses sloughing over the edge of her funeral cart.

"Well, let's see…!" She leaned her chin further into her palm as if deep in thought. "I happened to be doing my rounds near the outskirts of the Silver Castle, minding my own business, when—lo and behold!—I found you. Face-down, ass-up, bleeding out and half-dressed. You're welcome, by the way, dear one."

"Where's my armor? Where's my tunic? My clothes, Niamh?!"

Niamh grinned, far too pleased with herself. "Ah. Your scraps, you mean? I've got them. Took the liberty of 'salvaging' your things while you were, you know, dead. Lovely craftsmanship, really—considering it was held together with frayed silk and sheer audacity." She gestured toward a nearby shelf where, sure enough, my painstakingly crafted scraps armor was neatly displayed, complete with the mushroom hat perched like a trophy on top.

FOR SALE: [CRIMSON WARRIOR SET]

[Scarlet Silk Phoenix Tunic]: 15 SILVER

+4 Damage Resistance

[Scarlet Silk Phoenix Trousers]: 15 SILVER

+4 Damage Resistance

[Beastly Skeletal Gauntlets]: 10 SILVER

+2 Damage Resistance

[Crimson Champion's Cloak]: 15 SILVER

+4 Damage Resistance

[Great Mycenaean Coronet]: 20 SILVER

+6 Damage Resistance

My eye twitched. "That's mine."

"Was yours," Niamh corrected smugly, twirling a strand of her lilac hair. "But I'm a reasonable woman. If you feel so inclined, you can buy it back. I'll even give you a discount for being such a reliable customer."

"Why is it so much more expensive? I got that stuff for free. And the stats are different. You changed everything, now I can't afford it!"

"It's called rebranding and a simple [Stat Enchant] spell, dear one."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Niamh said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off her black cloak. "Here—let's make it easy. You need your armor. I need coin. Or, if you're strapped for cash, I'm always looking for helpers to run errands down in the Dungeon. Simple work. Dangerous, yes, but simple. Think of it as... repayment for my chivalrous efforts in saving your ungrateful ass."

I sat up again, glaring at her.

This wasn't exactly the way I was envisioning meeting the sexy shopkeeper again…

"If you think I'm running errands in the nude, you're delusional."

"All right, all right, I'll be generous!" Niamh relented, sauntering toward a dusty trunk at the back of the shop, her boots clicking softly on the dirt floor. "Since I'm such a kind soul, I'll let you borrow something to wear while you earn back what's yours. And… Hm… Fineee…" she drawled, stretching the word out like she was doing me the greatest favor in the world. "I'll let you have your sword back."

I blinked. "...Wait, really?"

Did Niamh even know about the curse on her own sword she was selling?

"Truth be told, that jian of yours wasn't much use to me anyway. Seems there's something... peculiar about it, wouldn't you say? People in certain circles have a keen eye for these things. But lucky you—I decided it's more trouble than it's worth. You can take it back."

I was on the verge of losing her mind again, but Niamh cut me off before I could even react to the sword being thrust back into my hands.

"Oh, and while we're talking about what you're going to do..." Niamh pulled a bundle from inside the dusty trunk and tossed it onto the floor in front of me. "Here's something to wear. Since, you know, you're still missing most of your outfit."

"What… What exactly is this?" I grimaced.

"A loan," Niamh replied with faux sweetness. "Something for you to wear while you earn your keep."

It was a jester's outfit.

An ugly, dull red and purple thing that looked like it had been dragged through mud, sat in a moth-filled attic for three decades, and then run over by a cart.

There were puffy sleeves, a pair of frilly shorts that barely covered my mid-thighs, tight checkered leggings, a large ruffled collar, and a string of bells stitched onto the hem that jingled faintly when Niamh shook it in her hands.

Yes, there was also a hat.

"I'm not wearing this."

Niamh smiled, unbothered. "It's better than heading out there without even a stitch to wear, is it not?"

"Debatable," I grumbled, but my face flushed all over again because, unfortunately, Niamh had a point.

I could only mutter curses under my breath as I stood up and began yanking the makeshift outfit over my head. The sleeves hung too loose on my frame, the collar was fraying at the hem, and it smelled faintly of... lavender?

How suspicious. 

"By the Gods, this is insulting."

"Now, for your quests. Please head out to the Dismal Marsh and fetch me 50 clumps of Mudder's Moss. Then 50 Wizard's Cap mushrooms from the Gloaming Citadel. Oh! And 30 sprigs of Deathshade—mind you, it's only poisonous if you breathe near it. And, let's see... hmm..." She flipped through her ledger theatrically, tapping her chin with the quill. "Oh—and if you run into an archmage named Glynn the Moonwitch somewhere down in the crypts, please knock her out and take her staff. She owes me coin. I'll throw in a free [Stat Enchant] blessing on your jian if you manage to accomplish that, as well."

"Check, check, check."

I was already halfway out the door, still flushing at the ridiculous outfit I was forced to wear, when Niamh's voice stopped me once more dead in my tracks.

"Ah, I digress—I have one more question! But please indulge my curiosities, dear one," Niamh added casually. "I couldn't help but notice the... mark on your back. That little burned symbol right between your shoulder blades. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it's a little too close to the heretic brand, the mark of the snake from the Land of Obsidian… don't you think?"

"I didn't ask for your opinion on my back, Niamh!" I suddenly snapped.

Fuck, so she saw that mark?

I don't want to tell anyone about my (literal) back-story, least of all someone who just stripped everything I owned!

"So how about you keep your eyes to yourself? From my version of things, you've already seen far more of me than I'd ever want you to!"

Thankfully, Niamh nodded in understanding. I was a bit more harsh than I intended, but the message certainly got across.

"...Oh fine, fine! I'll be good, I promise. You're burdened with a past, I understand. It is no matter to me, anyway. I'm not the one who's been branded a heretic…" Niamh shifted uncomfortably for the first time, the light of amusement in her eyes dimming just a touch. She coughed awkwardly and ran a hand through her hair, a flush creeping up her neck.

I wasn't sure if I believed her, but I wasn't about to argue the point any longer. 

"I'm sure everyone here is 'burdened with a past'. Do not judge me when this entire pit is a dumping ground for prisoner's corpses, anyways. I can only imagine what sorts of crimes got you thrown in here," I added in anger for good measure.

"Alright, I've said I understand!" Niamh relented, completely backpedaling now, "No need to get so prickly. It's none of my business anyway, true, I was merely curious..." 

"If you don't mind," I muttered, adjusting the bells of her jester's hat.

Suddenly, I quickly understand why Mendell wasn't fond of this shopkeeper. "I do believe I should be getting back to focusing on gathering those items for you. I'd rather get started on doing those errands and you sticking to… whatever it is you do here." 

"Atta girl," Niamh purred, already turning back to her ledger completely unphased from the previous conversation. She ripped a page out perfectly and held it out towards me, as well as a familiar pink crystal. "You may use this sheet and the [Quest Bond] crystal to keep track of your quest progress—It'll update automatically when you collect items, and inform me on your progress as well in my ledger, so it's a rather useful tool, is it not?"

I took the page and the crystal, tapping my fingers against the ink as she stood there a moment to analyze it.

Then, Niamh and I cracked the two [Quest Bond] crystals at the same time.

CRACK.

[New Quest Notification!]

The 'You Owe Me' Quest!

Objective: Collect 50 clumps of Mudder's Moss, 50 Wizard's Cap Mushrooms, & 30 Sprigs of Deathshade.

BONUS:Jump the archmage Glynn.

Rewards: 

74 Silver.

BONUS Rewards:

Niamh will cast [Stat Enchant] on your weapon, granting a significant ATK upgrade!

⟪ ACCEPT QUEST? Y/N ⟫

"Fuck you."

⟪ QUEST ACCEPTED ⟫

"Before I go chasing whatever knickknacks you think are worth my time, could you tell me the directions to the [Essence] well again? I'd like to upgrade my stats, at least somewhat…"

"You've been running around this lovely little underworld of ours, nearly dying left and right, without upgrading your stats yet? Dear one, I think I'm starting to see why you ended up in this situation."

"I didn't know how these things worked!" I fumbled, patience wearing thin. "I've been once, but I didn't get the chance to use it properly."

"Hmm… Fair enough. The well's tucked away near the old cathedral ruins, far west side of the [Sanctuary]. I'd say you can't miss it, but it's such a simple thing I'm certain you would. Well, since you're already familiar with it to some degree, at least you'll know it when you see it."

"Thanks," I muttered, turning away before Niamh could see the aversion in my eyes.

"Anytime, dear one," Niamh called after her, the laughter back in her voice. "Don't die again! Or do. It's remarkably convenient for business."

——

The fountain was exactly as I remembered it: small and carved straight into the wall in an inconspicuous corner of the [Sanctuary]. I stood before it, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised in skepticism.

The steps sword-bastard had once demonstrated were hazy in my head, but I think I remember enough.

He wasn't here.

He wasn't coming back for a while.

And that was fine, this couldn't be that impossible to figure out. I stared into the well—The way the water trickled from the spout into the basin reminded her of the magnificent jaguar-shaped fountain from my family's manor's courtyard. 

It was the same silvery slate-blue shade that seemed to glitter if you stared long enough.

Things like that made sense now—I'd never been taught about the [System] back on the topworld, thanks to my clearly sheltered upbringing, but that doesn't mean they've never existed.

And on one hand, of course it made sense.

No one had told me this when I was young. No one had pulled me aside in the perfumed halls of the temple and said, "Listen, Ayauhcihuatl, the only way to grow strong enough to get power is to kill something else."

No, that truth had been left out of my lessons, of course.

Because what good was it for a noble girl to hunt and gain power like some kind of manly warrior, anyway? People like me weren't supposed to get their hands dirty, not in a world where things like violence and power were someone else's problem—Duties for the men, the emperor, and the military.

Power is gained by spilling blood and taking something else's life [Essence] for yourself, it seems. Not just wild beasts, either.

Anything that couldn't fight back.

Anything weaker.

No wonder assholes like Mendell who've been here who-knows-how-long ended up the way they did, and maybe all the terrible people in power from the topworld too, though it became clear to me now the ways it's all better hidden up there. Violence… it has always been the [System].

I closed my eyes, the image of my family's jaguar fountain flickering in her mind again. How much life [Essence] has been washed away up there for power? How much countless more down here?

I pushed back the ugly thoughts. Thoughts of my former life wouldn't help me now. My hands gripped the edge of the fountain, knuckles whitening as my fingertips stretched towards the water's surface.

The moment I reached out to touch it, a thin line of text flared into existence like carvings into the stonework only I could see:

[[Essence] Detected.]

[Do you wish to strengthen yourself?]

I dipped her hands into the water unhesitatingly. The water felt unnervingly cold against my palms, colder than I expected.

Pausing for just a moment to take in the feeling, I cupped the water carefully and—before nerves could betray me—poured it over my head.

For a moment, nothing happened.

The cold lingered, and my hands, still gripping the edges of the basin, shook from the chill. Then, a soft glow flickered around me, a warmth spreading through my limbs as if all the [Essence] I had consumed seemed to shift.

The words carved into the fountain began to shift again.

[Stat Allocation Menu]

Available [Essence]: 5

Select Attributes to Allocate Points:

Strength: 0 [+] 

Dexterity: 0 [+] 

Judgement: 0 [+] 

Vitality: 0 [+] 

Haste: 0 [+] 

Folly: 0 [+] 

The options were laid out before me like an open menu. 

At least I understand what Folly is now. I think I'll avoid that route, even if it's supposed to be really strong.

I stared at the list, brows furrowed, trying to make sense of it. The other stats were obvious enough.

[Strength]—I needed that, definitely. I would need any help I could get to even be able to hold my sword properly. [Dexterity] seemed important, too—If I ever wanted to use lighter or more ranged weapons, like Mendell's crossbow, that might end up being useful.

[Judgement]? [Vitality]? Okay, those made sense too. But [Folly]?

Who in their right mind would choose [Folly]?

I exhaled shakily and blinked, water still dripping from my soaked hair into my face. With a steady hand, I dragged my finger over to [Strength] and tapped it several times, watching as four points dropped into the box.

I paused, thumb hovering over [Vitality].

That was important too, right?

I couldn't afford to be fragile in a place like this… 

Nah. More strength.

That was it. Five points, allocated all at once, and all into one stat. I ran my hand through my damp hair, feeling a strange rush of warmth in my limbs.

My muscles tensed as though they were waking up from a long slumber. 

[Essence Consumed.]

[Allocating Strength…]

The system's text then disappeared, leaving only the faint sound of the water trickling into the basin. I wiped my face with a shaking hand, forcing myself to stand, somehow feeling ever so slightly more able already.

For the first time since I'd arrived here, I let myself smile.

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