Dungeon? This Tree? Why Don't You Join Me for Lunch? (Dungeon Core) Chapter 32: Aron! I need you!

When we ca back, for I did not let the three simply hunker up in their boring castle, Solas looked about one burst vein from ending the war.

With the destruction of the world.

"You made them stronger!" Solas roared, as Doran was hugging him from behind. I was thankful to the general, I really was.

But I knew his type. He was going to let this monster loose on , I just knew it!

"Now, I wouldn’t say that," I told him. For I could feel the vampires now. It was sothing like the leaves of a tree. "I took them over!"

Oh, it had taken a while to realize that, but that did not an that it was a lie! No, the vampires were mine, as long as they had porridge in their bellies.

Vampires do not need to go to the bathroom.

I smiled.

Small rcies.

"You took them over?" Solas did not look so, as if he believed . I shrugged.

"Well, yes! They ate the cooking of a nymph!"

That was the wrong thing to say. My three shadows, the Boliari, began to glare at . No longer making a barrier between and the king.

Nathaniel looked the most insulted.

I did not understand him! It was not like I force-fed him or even let him believe that he had a chance with , or sothing!

"I will make a goblet out of your skull," that was not Solas, no. It was Doran.

I knew I should run. I knew that if I did not go back to my new tree, The Tree of mories, I was going to die.

And Solas, and probably Alexios after him, were going to drink wine out of my skull.

So, obviously, I decided to get the one person who could explain it all better than I there.

By... stealing 400 zombies from Desmond, who was never good at accounting.

Aron stepped before , my knight in shining armor. He leveled Solas and Doran with a glare, bared his fangs, and then looked at the sky.

"Here, honey," I told him, as I placed the final bowl of porridge from the porridge which had turned all of the Necromantic Union’s undead into sothing never seen before.

"Thanks, bunny-bun," he said, and I smiled. Nathaniel’s glare turned even more toxic. His brown eyes were shining.

What was with the undead and shining eyes? I could not understand it at all!

The sun rose, Aron did not need to hide like the rest of his brethren. Solas was glaring, but Doran was no longer restraining him.

No, the man, the myth, the legend, was before his lover. Making sure that no one was going to make a goblet out of Solas’ skull.

I was happy. More than happy, I was already making plans!

"We have sothing king Alexios does not," Aron said, as he made a step towards Solas. Doran took out his sword, ready to do a last stand, most like.

Would Aron ever do a last stand for , I asked myself? I shook my head.

Like I’d let him! My honey was never going to die! We will regroup, think of sothing, and then defeat our enemy!

Without being dark numbskulls!

"Soone to make porridge for the undead."

Which, to be fair, was a clever tactic. I could make Solas’ army into sothing great. His living soldiers would not need to die for nothing!

But Solas did not have all that many vampires. No, most of the army, Nick, Nathaniel, and Desmond had managed to collect, consisted of zombies.

"My King?" I asked, as I eyed a tied-up zombie. "May I try sothing?"

Solas nodded; Doran glared.

Man, what was I going to have to give the man to earn his love back? Would it take an... entire chocolate cake?

Where was I going to get the cocoa beans from during winter? Or good flour? I am certain that the gnos had plenty, but now all they have will have to be used for their own survival.

I took so of the moldy oats I still carried in my pocket for so reason, crushed them with my mana, made sothing that looked like oat flour, and then threw it at a zombie.

The flour got in its mouth. It blinked.

"Wait... why am I rotting?" the zombie asked with such a posh accent, that I would have pegged it for a scholar. "I was supposed to make sure that the machine flies. But... where am I... oh, holy shit, zombies!"

That final screech told that the zombie in question was a woman.

"Sylvan," Solas said, as the zombie slowly but surely began to regain its human form. Its rotting flesh was becoming healthy. Its forr self being restored. "You and I will marry."

Doran spun around; Aron took out his dagger.

"What about Brandon?" I asked, for I knew Solas’ type. He wanted to own . There were no feelings between us. "What about Doran?"

Solas blinked, as Doran packed him on the collar.

"Yes, honey-bunny," Doran snarled, as he picked up Solas so, that the king’s legs were dangling in the air. "What about Brandon?"

For a split second, Solas looked like he was considering the question. And then he snorted.

"He will never co back," I don’t know how much this final effort of letting go of his husband cost Solas. But I knew one thing. Things were not over with this. "Sylvan, you will teach Doran how to cook like you."

I blinked. Wait, that wasn’t...

I watched in mute horror as Solas’ hand beca an old, gnarled thing. As he touched Doran over the heart gently, tugging sothing out.

Doran fell like a puppet with its strings not just cut but burned.

"You will make a nymph out of him," Solas said, as he forced the soul of his lover into my hands. "Or I will burn your shitty tree and salt your bloody forest."

This was not about Doran being the one for life! This was about power!

"You b..." I began, but Aron sealed my lips with his and closed my fingers around the soul.

For he knew sothing I did not.