Almost Acting as a Dungeon Boss

Although the banquet had already been underway for some time, sparse crowds of people could still be seen occasionally passing through the palace corridors. Some ladies were even still busy dressing and applying their makeup.

Louis was in the restroom, pulling up his trousers while glancing into the mirror.

Today he wasn't wearing a standard suit, but rather a trench coat fastened with large buttons, knee-breeches, and tall boots.

He couldn't help casting a sideways glance at the Grand Engineer Mr. Rant standing nearby—who was dressed in aristocratic attire featuring a ruff collar that looked as though he were balancing a large dinner platter on his shoulders, making him look particularly ridiculous. Yet Yordles seemed exceptionally fond of wearing this exact style on formal occasions.

After washing his hands, Louis stepped out of the restroom and said to the Grand Engineer Mr. Rant, who was trailing closely behind him: "Alright, I'll see about finding you some materials to upgrade the Son of Rant. You guys go ahead and start repairing it—don't worry, those foolish wizards have no idea the Son of Rant has broken down to this extent."

"Mm." The Grand Engineer Mr. Rant, who had come looking to shamelessly freeload, rubbed his reddened eyes, sniffed, and nodded. "It's a deal then, don't you forget. My dance partner is waiting for me, so I'll head over first."

"Alright."

Watching Mr. Rant trot into the grand banquet hall with hurried, dainty steps, Louis rubbed his face.

Just a couple of days ago, these engineers had sworn up and down that he was the final missing piece of the Yordle freeloading initiative, insisting on dragging him in as a partner.

And yet, today they had turned around and successfully freeloaded right off of him.

Shaking his head, Louis checked his pocket watch, headed toward a side hall of the banquet venue, and waited by the entrance. His dance partner was still busy doing her hair and makeup. She certainly took her sweet time.

To pass the time, Louis checked his rewards.

The 15 random attributes × 2 (a+b) were already in his possession. It translated to a neat +10 to all attributes, causing his presence stat to skyrocket to 2,000 in an instant.

Additionally, his reputation with both the Templars and the Institute of Mechanics had been secured—not with a mere +1000, but maxed out.

Worship from the Gorong clan was also maxed out and safely in hand.

Meanwhile, his reputation in the Sorondo Kingdom had increased by 1,500, shifting directly from Indifferent to Respected.

The pilot's license for the Destroyer "Son of Rant" had originally been acquired, but it had now turned gray—because Mr. Rant had scammed him out of it. He would have to keep the Grand Engineer in a good mood; otherwise, he wouldn't even be allowed to drive the mecha for fun in the future.

It really was time for an upgrade. Heavy armor equipment of this type had far too many flaws. Its magic resistance against bizarre spells like "witchcraft" and "curses" was practically zero!

Had he not been piloting it himself and forcefully applied several protective enchantment spells beforehand, any ordinary playing-card wizard could have easily killed the pilot inside.

Even so, Louis felt that this piece of equipment—which provided +500 mana—still held plenty of potential. Therefore, he intended to help Rant with his problem. Rant had mentioned something about an archaeological team, which Archie seemed to know about. It appeared to be related to some troublesome business involving Michelin Belife, the chubby boss of the Hammer of the War God.

They could resolve it all together when the time came.

Secondly, the [Department of Mysteries Branch Director × 1] position had changed. It was now [Independent Department of Magical Retirement Director × 1 (Pending implementation)]—Archie must currently be working on finalizing that.

Lastly, there was [House of Hearts Queen's Reputation +1000], along with [Red Queen's Affection × 1]—which had originally been mere admiration.

Louis found this rather puzzling.

He could understand why the Gorongs worshipped him; those simple-minded brutes worshipped strength. After he had taken down the Dragonslayer mecha, his deterrent force over the Gorong clan was massive.

But what was going on with the Red Queen and the House of Hearts... exactly?

Louis scratched his head, feeling somewhat clueless. 'Isn't the Queen of Hearts supposed to be the Red Queen's noble house? The vampires? Why would my reputation with them increase? And why on earth would the Red Queen develop this kind of emotion toward me?'

'Could the storybook's prophecy have been wrong? There's no reason it should be...'

A loud rumble from his stomach interrupted his train of thought. He rubbed his belly.

Overhearing some passing Yordles discussing the grand feast at tonight's banquet made Louis feel even hungrier.

He hadn't eaten breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Right now, he felt somewhat faint.

The main reason was the massive energy consumption.

Although the Son of Rant hadn't detonated in a suicide blast today, its mana had suffered a severe riot, and those flames were burning mana itself. Because he had been in a state of fusion with it, it was equivalent to having burning gasoline poured straight into his veins.

That fire had burned fiercely indeed. By the time he extinguished the flames and crawled out, his body had been scorched beyond recognition.

Coupled with the fact that he had been struck by a whole slew of curses, restoring his flesh and suppressing those curses had consumed a tremendous amount of energy.

His mana had practically been wrung dry today. Combined with skipping his meals, he was now suffering from mild hypoglycemia.

Checking his pocket watch again, Louis suddenly noticed flames igniting along his arm. His eyebrows twitched slightly.

He had inscribed numerous incantations onto his body back when he first met Stuart—right after helping Stuart break a curse, around the time he dreamed of the Dream-Eating Serpent.

These incantations granted him extraordinarily high magical resistance and shielded him from many curses.

Yet, he had just discovered that a portion of the runes on his body had been quietly sabotaged by some lurking power.

Louis turned and walked into an empty room nearby. With a swift tear, a large patch of skin peeled away from his arm, revealing muscle tissue densely packed with various incantations that were blazing with fierce flames, making them look just like charred charcoal.

Louis's mouth twitched as he set about repairing the runes. He quickly purged the lingering curse left behind by the Red Queen within his body. However, a wave of profound weakness swept over him, leaving him dizzy and lightheaded.

A fresh wave of hunger clawed at his insides. Clutching his head, Louis sat down on a sofa, his vision swimming with golden spots.

'Damn it, my mom always said you can't skip breakfast. I kept telling her eating breakfast before leaving makes no difference, but those few steamed buns weren't worth a damn.' Amidst his swirling dizziness, Louis felt his stomach churn violently—he felt like he could devour an entire dragon right now.

The flames on his body flared up again. Too weak to even move, Louis grew desperate: 'Am I going to have to do a corpse run?'

[Stuart, get your ass over here right now, I'm completely out of HP and MP...]

Through the hazy fog in his mind, Louis sensed Stuart's shadow wrapping around a few people as they flew out from a mirror, bustling into frantic activity around him.

Louis blinked his eyes open to see Stuart, alongside a bewildered Ross, Igor, and several other mages.

After assessing the situation, the group looked enlightened. The porcelain doll elder Ross stroked his beard and said, "It's indeed the Red Queen's curse. But the boss has already suppressed the vast majority of it. What's left now is nothing to worry about."

"These flames must be the remaining mana of the Son of Rant trapped in the boss's body. They're still burning. Extinguish the fire first, then apply these medicinal poultices."

With that, Ross pulled out a jar of ointment. Directing the others to repair the damaged runes, he began applying various potions across the boss's body.

Louis gradually regained some clarity, though spots of light still danced across his vision and weakness lingered in his bones. He lay back down on the sofa to rest for a moment.

Still, those fellows hadn't been entirely wrong about certain things.

The Red Queen's caliber was truly extraordinary; no wonder she had managed to kill Francesca once back then. Francesca's scholarship certainly fell far short of a Forbidden Arch-Scholar's level, but given the magnitude of her magical power, her strength was still immense—enough to go toe-to-toe with ancient gods.

The Twelve Great Mages still held some formidable tricks up their sleeves, which explained why the Moon Court was still being kept down and unable to lift its head, and why dragons feared wizards so deeply. Both factions likely possessed god-tier assets.

Yet these bosses were all behaving themselves quite well.

It seemed that much of the knowledge Anthony had originally handed down to the Twelve Great Houses had indeed been preserved through generations. And while many of those books had been burned, the aristocratic wizards had still kept whatever they deemed useful. That book-burning purge was likely executed precisely for the sake of "I have it, and you don't."

They had very likely preserved the magical grimoires imbued with actual mana—though it felt a bit like discarding watermelons to pick up sesame seeds, those items remained profoundly precious.

He should figure out a way to slowly unearth these spellbooks. Mages were currently crying out for textbooks, and if this world was ever to see magic re-emerge, those books were an absolute necessity.

Much like a modern dictionary, he certainly understood every single word, but he couldn't write a complete dictionary all by himself to serve as a reference tool for everyone else.

After a flurry of skilled operations by the various mages, the injuries on Louis's body gradually healed. Yet they soon noticed that the boss was still lying on the sofa, clutching his head and refusing to get up, looking thoroughly exhausted and too listless to speak.

What on earth was going on here?

With a solemn expression, Ross produced a newly refined potion—Chinese chives. He scooped out a tiny spoonful and placed it into the boss's mouth.

After a short while, the boss recovered slightly.

Watching the boss on the sofa as he licked his lips, the group exchanged glances and finally understood what the issue was.

Hypoglycemia.

Their expressions turned somewhat peculiar.

[Tsk tsk tsk, thousands of elite aristocratic wizards, countless bizarre items, three supreme treasures plus the Red Queen, a meat-shield MT, along with so many curse-spells targeting the magic mirror and buffs for the meat-shield... If you added a learned grand scholar who has researched deities to the mix, that's a full lineup for slaying a god.]

[And yet the boss got beaten until he starved...]

[Even with the protection of the Son of Rant and Her Majesty Delphinia and the others holding off a portion of the force, the boss's appetite is a bit too outrageous. After all, the enemy outnumbered them by so much.]

[As expected of a world boss.]

[If the Red Queen hadn't brought so many underlings today and tried to solo the boss, she probably would have been pinned down and ravaged.]

.......