Goroth: Everybody Loves Large Chests (Vol. 7) by Neven Iliev

Author:Neven Iliev [Iliev, Neven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-02T06:00:00+00:00

“Was wondering when you’d show up,” he spoke after swallowing his mouthful. “You got any more of these things? This lot is hardly enough for a snack.”

He proceeded to take another bite of the limb with a series of disturbing crunching noises as bone, scale, and meat were ground to a fine paste within the confines of his wide mouth. Incidentally, this wasn’t all an act. Boxxy honestly found these creatures quite tasty. The scales were arguably the best part. They became delightfully crunchy once their owners had lost their lives and the various Skills that hardened them ceased working. It would normally be impossible for it to gain any sustenance from the dungeon’s creatures since the core would reclaim and recycle their bodies, converting them back into the magical energy that spawned them. However, the hylt creeper could literally digest the mana in question, making the meal both filling and satisfying.

“What in the fuck are you?!” bellowed the dungeon master. “There’s no way a mere human would be able to, ugh, eat them! They have poisonous blood for crying out loud!”

“Ohhh!” exclaimed the disfigured mercenary. “So that’s why they’re so spicy!”

It made sense considering many of these snake-men had tried to stall it with their venomous bites and poisonous breaths, but such efforts were wasted against someone with Legendary Endurance.

*CRUNCH MUNCH MUNCH*

“Oh, God! I can’t look at this!”

For all her self-confidence, the floating demon was either surprisingly squeamish, or her acting skills were top-notch. Boxxy didn’t care either way and kept eating to pass the time while it rested after that prolonged skirmish. The fact that its behavior was visibly unsettling the djinn was merely a bonus. In addition to messing with her emotions, the invader’s actions also greatly confounded the djinn as she tried to wrap her head around this situation. The dungeon core’s Invader Analysis told her this guy was a Level 61 human Warlock named Hugh Mungus. It should have been mathematically impossible to make it this far without any magic. Unless, of course, the Status the core detected wasn’t genuine, but there was only one way that could be.

“You’re a Hero?!” she blurted out.

The Essence Concealment Skill exclusive to the gods’ chosen was the only thing that could fool a dungeon’s Invader Analysis.

“For real?” the Sandman swallowed audibly. “You just noticed that? Are you seriously that incompetent? You’re clearly not qualified to be a dungeon master. Maybe you should look into getting another job.”

The creature paused to take another bite.

“Maybe painting signposts or something,” it added while munching.

The djinn’s spiteful expression and seething glare were telltale signs that Boxxy had struck a nerve by questioning her qualifications. It may have been unintentional at first, but now the shapeshifter was deliberately toying with her. Its goal was to goad her into doing something rash and/or stupid that it could take advantage of. Unfortunately, what followed was not at all what the shady shapeshifter had expected, as the curator’s expression turned from utter disgust and disdain to violent delight.

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