That evening Lana and Lady Winters held a farewell dinner for Oswald. Dirk and the Titters family were invited as well.
While it had been hinted that there were encounters off the beaten path, Rod was fascinated by the idea of exploring the forest in Fey Nights.
While the group was enjoying their meal, deep in the dungeon, a man began to stir.
///
Opening his eyes he found a white ceiling above him.
Quickly pretending to be asleep, the man focused on his hearing. He heard no noise except for his slow breaths and beating heart.
Wasn't that a surprise, the last thing he remembered was succumbing to his wounds and the poison in his veins. If there truly was an afterlife, he doubted he would be going to a good place.
Since this didn't seem like hell, he concluded that he had somehow survived.
Slowly opening his eyes again, scanned the room he was in.
White walls, with a single door on his left. He sat up from a rather comfortable bed. Beside him was a nightstand with a few flowers in a vase.
As he sat up the blankets fell back to reveal that he was wearing some sort of gown.
The man's eyes narrowed when he realized he had been disrobed, but then softened. Whoever changed him was probably the one to save him. He then noticed a chair in the corner of the room, he saw his shredded robes laying on it.
He understood that even if he hadn't been dying, his old clothes were beyond saving.
When he realized his sword was not around, he didn't worry. Wherever it was, he still felt his connection to it. But that didn't mean he was going to let it fall into the wrong hands.
He held out his arm while he concentrated. He reeled back when the sword didn't materialize in front of him.
His heartbeat rapidly increased but he quickly calmed himself. 'Reaper' was still bound to him, who ever had taken it may have been able to keep him from it, but they hadn't found out how to sever his connection to it yet. Perhaps that is why they were saved.
The man grunted. They wouldn't be getting that information from him.
Remaining vigilant, he swung his feet from the bed and found a pair of slippers. Pulling his arms and legs he loosened up and stretched. He wasn't sure how long he had been lying in bed, but he knew it wasn't a short while.
When he was feeling limber, the man quietly walked to the door. He cracked it open and peeked inside.
It was a room covered in tile. Although the devices looked much different than what he was accustomed to, he easily recognized their purpose. It was a bathroom.
Entering the room, he found a lock on the back of the door. Without a way to leave his current confinement, he decided to partake.
After stepping out of the shower he went to the small cubby he noticed earlier. Reaching inside he pulled out underclothes and a robe that looked similar to his old one. The main difference being that this one was new.
After drying his long hair and tying it up, he walked back to the bedroom.
He sat cross legged on the bed and began to find his center.
A few minutes later his eyes opened as a door began to appear in the wall ahead of him.
His muscles tensed as he prepared for whatever may come through.
Finally, the door swung open. A metallic automaton rolled into the room. The man stayed quiet while his sharp eyes focused on the machine.
"Scanning…"
"The unknown poison in your body has diminished to negligible amounts. The traces that reaming with be slowly expelled with time."
The man opened his mouth, but he was still unsure of the situation he found himself in, so he closed it without saying anything else.
"There is a possibility that you have built up an immunity or at least a resistance to this unknown poison but as a healthcare professional I would recommend against testing this hypothesis."
After speaking the machine continued to stare at the man but didn't say anything further.
Eventually the man nodded.
"I recommend taking it slow for a few days. Remaining unmoving for over 2 weeks has caused you to lose muscle mass and it will need to be built up again to return you to your previous physical strength. Would you like for me to recommend a rehabilitation plan?"
The man shook his head. He was surprised that he had been out for 2 weeks, but that poison really had been potent.
"Where am I?" The man asked, speaking for the first time.
"You are currently located in Crag Dungeon. A few moments after you entered the dungeon you perished from your injuries. The revival buff placed in the dungeon transported you to our hospital where you continued to lose to the poison until it gradually began to diminish. If you have more questions, Boss Clarkson will be able to answer them. He is waiting for you outside."
At that the automaton moved back towards a wall and stared towards the center of the room. The man had a feeling he wouldn't be getting any more information from the machine.
Slowly he stepped down from the bed and approached the door.
Exiting the room, he found a large living room covered in strange plush furniture. A man in unique garments sat in a chair across from a couch, separated by a low table that was filled with food.
The man froze when the strange stood from his chair.
"Hello, I am Max Clarkson. Master of the Dungeon. Why don't you take a seat have some dinner. There are a few things we need to discuss once you are full."
With that, the oddly dressed stranger sat back down.
The man carefully moved closer and then lowered himself onto the couch. Looking at the table, he recognized as many dishes as he didn't. He ignored the extravagant food and reached for a plate filled with sandwiches.
After taking a bite, the strangely dressed man across from him spoke.
"As I said, I am Max. Right now you can just listen while I speak. Once you are finished, we can deal with questions then. Does that work for you?"
The man swallowed his bite and then nodded.
"Good."
Max then picked up a cup of tea and took a sip.
"I am pleased to see you up and moving. Many of us were concerned when you appeared unresponsive in the hospital. We worried that something had gone wrong with the revival buff. As callous as it sounds, I was very pleased to find out that you were poisoned in the outside world for that meant that the problem was not on my end."
The man eating nodded. He wasn't thrilled that someone was happy that he was poisoned, but he had already read about the revival buff in the system. He understood that it would be an issue if there was a problem with the buff.
"I like to think of myself as a good person and am always willing to help others when I can, but you see… You situation has put me in a bit of a bind. To activate, the revival buff consumes the dungeons power. If you had died once or twice this wouldn't be a big deal, but that isn't the case. While the poison worked through your system, you died 312 times."
Max sighed and shook his head.
"I myself am a businessman. I choose to invest in your life but right now you have cost my quiet a bit, and I have received nothing in return."
The man wiped his mouth.
"Is that why you have taken my sword? Even if I owe you a debt, I won't help you bond to it." The man gruffly said while narrowing his eyes towards Max.
"Eh, I am no thief sir, I am a businessman." Max waved his hand and the sword appeared on the couch beside the man.
The man grabbed his weapon and noticed the seal keeping the blade in the sheath. Before he could ask Max explained.
"My dungeon relies heavily on the revival system. Your sword's ability to claim and seal souls inside of it can be problematic for me. While inside the dungeon, your weapon will remain sealed. This is nonnegotiable. The only reason I had your weapon is because about 30% of those who use the revival buff for the first time wake up swinging. It had becoming common practice to disarm them ahead of time."
The man held his sword and then picked up another sandwich. Even if his weapon was sealed he felt much better having it back in his grasp.
"May I continue?" Max asked.
The man nodded.