Dungeon Creation (5)
My long conversation with the Dungeonology professor had given me a great deal.
It was true that I knew plenty about dungeons, but all of that knowledge came from being a game player, not a game designer.
And because of that, the dungeon I'd built had a number of shortcomings when it came to the finer details.
For example, when creating my dungeon, I had only sketched in the monster patterns in broad strokes — establishing a concept and then giving the monsters a combat style that suited it.
Even so, it wasn't a fatal flaw. The way each monster moved was defined, after all.
It just wasn't perfect. A monster that repeats a fixed set of motions is nothing more than a puppet. That's fine the first time you face it, but once an opponent grows used to its patterns, it never quite feels like you're fighting a living enemy.
The solution the Dungeonology professor offered was this:
"We simply have the Combat professors record their movements and apply them directly."
Writing out every scrap of combat logic by hand would eat up time, cost tremendous effort, and might still yield a mediocre result. But if you captured a Combat professor's actual movements and mapped them straight onto the monsters, you could produce enemies that seemed genuinely alive without all that pain.
"Normally the Combat professors are swamped around this time of year, so asking for their cooperation is out of the question. But my lady has someone she can work to the bone, doesn't she?"
I promised the Dungeonology professor that I would send her Luka and Carl — and told her to squeeze as much use out of either of them as she liked.
Beyond that, the other details I learned about were the various spells used inside a dungeon itself.
"Artificial dungeons lack that distinctly ominous atmosphere real dungeons have. Which makes sense, since they aren't formed from an evil god's mana."
The oppressive mana. The suffocating air. Sounds that echoed far louder than they should. The creeping dread that something was hunting you from behind. Dungeon creators had agonized over the absence of these elements for ages, and in the end they had managed to replicate a dungeon's signature ambiance through magic.
"The proper approach would have been to budget resources for elements like these from the start, but since this is your first time, I'll make room to add more resources in."
"...Hold on. With this dump-tier Academy's technology, could we maybe add something like this too?"
"Oh, that's a nice one. It should be possible. And if it isn't, I'll make it possible."
On and on it went — the professor offered advice on countless small details, and I built new gimmicks on the foundation of that advice.
Ah, but of course, I didn't come away with nothing but lessons. There were plenty of fine details I simply hadn't known, but when it came to the fundamentals of what makes a dungeon a dungeon, I knew more than she did.
So I did a little teaching of my own.
How to build traps that make the people clearing them curse your name. Gimmicks so vile that "this is absolute garbage" escapes a player's lips unprompted. How to craft a difficulty so wretched that players think, just one more try, and find themselves physically incapable of giving up no matter how hellish it gets.
There was so much to talk about that the Dungeonology professor's own classes were canceled, and several of my classes were suspended with her cooperation so I could attend. But who cares about trivia like that?
The important thing was one and only one! The dungeon I created had become even more perfect!
...Though in the process of adding all this and that, it blew far past its allotted resource limit. But the Dungeonology professor swore she'd finish the dungeon even if she had to whack the other professors over the head for their resources, so it should be fine.
Probably.
With every discussion concluded, I had come to dinner feeling fuller and more satisfied than I had in ages.
So this is why people say it's great to have friends who share your hobbies.
Once everything is over, maybe I'll become a professor like her. Tormenting students with dungeons of my own design sounds like tremendous fun.
And if the brats whine that it's too dirty to play fair, I'll just provoke them with the Mesugaki skill until they have no choice but to try.
"Aww, what's wrong, you pathetic little lay-down-and-die losers♡? Can't even handle this much?♡ Haaah♡ Fiiine, I guess♡ Professor~? We're poor widdle babies who still can't leave mama's bosom~ please, pretty please, lower the difficulty~? If you all come crying and begging like that, I'll consider easing up♡"
Say that, and they'll thrash around struggling on their own.
Being a professor comes with lots of annoying work, you say? Who cares. Just shovel it all onto the teaching assistants.
That's what professors do anyway, isn't it?
...I said it as a joke, but it actually sounds fun. Maybe I'll give it a try someday, once everything's finished.
"Lucy Aln."
I was humming to myself while waiting for my food to arrive when a voice made me turn my head — and there stood Arthur, arrived from who knew when, looking down at me with a piercing stare.
Can I help you, Third Prince?
"What's with the staring, Pitiful Prince? I get that you want to burn someone as cute and pretty as me into your memory, but it's kind of creepy. I woke up from a nap because of it."
"I-I was not staring at you with any such intention!"
All I'd done was flash him a slight smirk, and Arthur's face flushed red as his voice cracked upward.
His voice carried so far that every gaze in the dining hall swung toward the two of us, and flustered by all those staring eyes, Arthur's face flushed crimson a second time before he hastily dropped into the seat across from me.
It was like this now, and it was like this whenever Frey teased him too — Arthur really did fall for provocation way too easily. In the game he'd been a much cooler character.
Well. From where I'm sitting, this version is more entertaining, so no complaints.
"Third Prince~? Have you been sneaking drinks by any chance? Your face is absolutely crimson."
While I watched Arthur worriedly working his lips, Joy abandoned a table of noble ladies elsewhere in the hall and came over to join us.
Judging by how anxiously the noble girls were glancing our way, she'd probably announced that something was wrong and marched off to help.
"...Quiet, Joy."
"Quieter than you were a moment ago, Third Prince."
"Joy."
"I'm sorry. And it's been a while, Lady Aln. I heard the Dungeonology professor had you held up all day?"
How does she know that?
"How'd you know that, Airhead Lady? Don't tell me you're stalking me. I know I'm irresistible, but that's a bit much."
"I did no such thing! I merely asked the professor, since you were absent from class today."
Joy explained that she'd been worried — after all, I was the sort of person who kept getting tangled up in one incident or disaster after another — and I couldn't help the smirk that crept across my face.
Ah. Seriously. This is exactly why I can't help loving Joy.
'Thank you for worrying about me.'
"Pfffhahahaha! The Duchess's own daughter has separation anxiety~! So that's how it is~ You suffered so terribly without me~ Now, how shall I comfort you? A hug? Shall I pat your head and go there-there~?"
"I-I am never worrying about you again!"
By the time Arthur's and Joy's faces had turned red in perfectly equal measure, Frey had quietly settled into the seat at my left.
Right on her heels, Phoebe appeared and naturally claimed the seat at my right.
Only once the usual crew had gathered around the table did Arthur seem to recover his composure, letting out a long, long sigh.
"Returning to the beginning, then. Lucy Aln. What I wished to ask was this: precisely what manner of hell-dungeon have you created?"
I'm sorry, what?
"Whatever could you mean by that?"
When I tilted my head and echoed the question, Arthur, having regained his footing, continued calmly.
"Simple deduction. You emerged from the professor's office after hours upon hours of discussion wearing a smile so blissful that anyone could see it. There is only one possible reason. You must have crafted a dungeon that satisfied even you. And a dungeon capable of satisfying a monstrosity like yourself is, without question, a hell-dungeon."
...Was my face really melting like that? Enough for it to show?
Arthur's deduction was partly right. The lion's share of my happiness right now was the satisfaction of having built a magnificent dungeon.
But you got one thing wrong!
'It is NOT a hell-dungeon! It is not!'
"You call it a hell-dungeon? Honestly, it's as if you all think I'm some maniac dying to torment other pathetic losers. Not true at all, I'll have you know. Sweet, innocent me built a dungeon that even the biggest scrub can clear."
I proclaimed my innocence with my chest puffed out, but not a shred of the suspicion in their eyes faded.
Come on, this is genuinely unfair!
Me — the person who suffered through every troll dungeon in existence — build some nightmarish abomination? No way!
I obviously designed it so any student could clear it!
I mean, think about it! If it were some hellish pit, the Dungeonology professor would have rejected it on her own! Right?!
The one to shoot down my protests was Joy.
"Lady Aln, you may not know this, but Professor Jesl has been famous for her exacting standards for a long time. In the past, she actually built a dungeon with a zero-percent clear rate."
...
Wait. Her problems were actually hard?
Seriously?
I toned everything down for first-year level — it showed everywhere. And THAT was hard?!
As I pressed my lips together, realizing I had badly overestimated the student body, Joy and Arthur let out identical sighs, as if they'd rehearsed it.
"We're doomed."
"At this rate, won't the entire year fail the Dungeonology final?"
"Not the entire year. We have this creature right here."
"...Right! As long as we can enter alongside Lady Aln!"
Um. Sorry, but...
"Ha. You truly are idiots with not a drop of pride between you. As if that would ever happen. I'm not taking the exam."
"You'd build hell itself and then flee alone?!"
"That is truly wicked of you, Lady Aln."
Is this really something I deserve to be crucified for?!
Use your common sense! If the person who built the dungeon takes the exam with her own party, that's cheating! Of course it's not allowed!
It was Phoebe who tried to defend me.
"...Um, Third Prince? Joy? I think you're both being a little hard on her Ladyship."
"Saintess, this is precisely the treatment this one requires. Otherwise, our final exam becomes hell itself."
"Exactly. Phoebe, if the difficulty doesn't come down even a little, who knows how many people will be driven to despair."
Phoebe had tried her best to speak up for me, but unable to bring herself to argue against Arthur and Joy's points, she quietly backed down.
...Uh. Hm. I did maybe set the difficulty a touch on the high side.
'Um, excuse me? There's always the option of...'
"PUWAHAHAHA! You're desperate to make the dungeon easier, aren't you? Well, tough luck~ That ship has sailed~"
The Dungeonology professor already walked off with the finished version. I couldn't change it now even if I wanted to.
And honestly? I don't really want to. It's a flawless dungeon without a single part worth touching.
"You finished everything already? In a single day?"
"Do NOT display your genius in times like these, Lucy Aln!"
"O great Armadi, why dost Thou visit such trials upon us?"
Joy and Arthur I could forgive, but when even Phoebe slumped in despair and clasped her hands together, I broke into a cold sweat and scrambled to salvage the situation.
'R-relax, everyone! It'll be fine!...'
"Fear not! For scrubs like you, I made it so you can attempt the final exam as many times as you like until the very end of the exam period."
"...We can attempt it infinitely? Insane. You mean the difficulty is such that we might not clear it even with attempts spanning the entire final exam period!"
"That's not all, Third Prince. This dungeon is tuned so that sharing clear strategies among students would be utterly pointless."
'A-and you don't need to worry about failing either!...'
"Oh, and get this — that idiot professor said she'd account for the level of us first-year scrubs and award points even for failed attempts. No matter how pathetic we first-years are, the whole year probably won't fail."
"So clearing it to the end was never even on the table."
"...I can see hell flickering on the horizon."
"Yep. Decided. I'm retaking first year."
Why? WHY is it turning out like this?!
Every single time I open my mouth to lighten the mood, why does the atmosphere at this table just keep getting heavier?!
Even Frey, normally a statue of pure indifference, was adding her two coppers, and while I was nervously checking the glances of everyone around us, Phoebe timidly raised her hand.
"Um, my lady?"
'Now what?!'
"What is it, scrub saintess."
"If a place is that difficult... is there some kind of reward waiting for those who reach the end?"
...Ah.
Ah! I made a mistake like THAT?!
The end of a dungeon has to come with a reward worthy of the suffering! Otherwise nobody has any motivation to clear it!
Both me and the Dungeonology professor were the kind of weirdos who found satisfaction in the act of clearing a dungeon itself, so it never even crossed my mind!
Thank god I noticed now. I'll have to go discuss it with the Dungeonology professor tomorrow.
"You didn't even think of a reward."
"Perhaps we simply avoid failing and make up the points elsewhere?"
"That works. Better that than grinding ourselves to death somewhere pointless."
'NOOOO! Don't you dare! I poured my heart into that thing — you can't just pass it over!'
"Aww, running away because you're scared? What a bunch of prideless scrubs."
"Yes. We are scared. Too scared to do it."
"And if you pour everything into it and botch your other exams, you might have to retake first year anyway. All things considered, giving up is the smarter play."
NoooOoOo! If the difficulty really was miscalibrated, then aside from you four, not a single soul on this earth will ever clear that dungeon!
So don't give up! Please!
I agonized to death over that place. If nobody clears it, it'll break my heart!
'Rewards! I'll give you rewards! Clear the dungeon to the very end, and I'll give you anything you want! Anything at all! So please, PLEASE clear it!'
"Is a reward really that important? How vulgar of you all. Fine. Clear the dungeon to the end, and I'll do anything for you. Of course, you pathetic scrubs will never actually make it that far."
The instant the words left my mouth, the noisy table fell dead silent.
"...Anything?"
"Anything at all?"
"My lady. You just said anything."
"Lucy. You said anything."
Arthur. Joy. Phoebe. Frey.
The four who had been wailing in despair mere moments ago now fixed me with burning, unblinking stares, their faces frozen solid.
Only then did I realize I'd misspoken — but there was no taking it back. The atmosphere was so razor-sharp that even mumbling just kidding felt like it would get me run through on the spot.
'Y-yes. Yes, that's right.'
"Heh. Squirm all you like. I don't know whether a pack of scrubs who were bawling about quitting a minute ago can manage it, but."
Defeated by the pressure of four pairs of eyes, I reluctantly nodded — and the four of them exchanged glances with one another, then rose from their seats as if a single coordinated thought had struck them all at once.
Left alone at the table, I blinked slowly as I watched their four backs retreat across the dining hall.
...Uh.
Something really, really big just happened, didn't it.
No way, right?
It'll be fine. Right?
Those four think of me as their friend. There's no way they're planning something bad.
It'll be fine.
Right?
"Of course it'll be fine. Fine as a corpse, maybe."
'When I'm like THIS, the correct answer is just to tell me it'll be fine!'