Lewd Dungeon Master: This Orc Is Too Damn OP!-Chapter 242: Mascot Costume Rage

Watching the penguin casually chuck Furcas’s head, I knew right away: this thing is not entirely sane either. Made me wonder if all the Halphas Legion executive types were built this way.

Calm. Cold. And cruel.

’This penguin is no joke.’

It had the composure to check every inch of an enemy dungeon for traps even when that meant taking forever, and the cold-blooded focus to keep smashing through walls and advancing without missing a beat after Lune’s rear ambush.

But what really gave me chills was the cruelty: casually yanking off Furcas’s head, who was still presumably capable of fighting, and using it as a trap-tester without a second thought.

"Hey. Don’t you feel bad for your own subordinate?"

"Heads grow back after death and resurrection anyway. Considering the shape it’s in now, it’s way better to have it die and get revived fresh after we blow this dungeon apart and grab the magic stones."

"Kill them and revive them? That’s a pretty brutal way to put it."

"Don’t you do the same?"

Probing me, or has it actually figured me out? I glanced sideways at the orcs standing next to me.

"...."

Every orc was wearing a black robe woven from Andras thread, and there wasn’t much visually separating me from the rest. I’d just been trying to play the role of Elite Orc Officer A, but the penguin was talking like it had already figured out I was the dungeon master. I tried my best to sidestep it.

"...I wouldn’t do that?"

"Right. Our Legion Commander had a phase like that too, once. But you’ll end up making the same compromise eventually. Like this..."

Thwack.

The penguin kicked Furcas’s death horse with a yellow foot. The death horse had no time to resist; it plunged straight into the hell pit. The death horse fell into the fire pit, easily five meters deep, and began to burn with the smell of a crematorium.

"Once they’re no longer useful as a fighting force, having them die and come back fresh later is just way better. That’s Dungeon Lord basics, isn’t it?"

"Who in the world calls that basics."

That was a philosophy I couldn’t accept as a dungeon lord. I stepped forward and stood right at the edge of the cliff dropping into the pit.

"Using the ability to resurrect as justification to burn through your forces? That’s a load of crap. The whole point of Bond Summon is to give any subordinate who falls in battle a second chance: a safety net, like an extra life. It’s not a license to throw them away whenever you feel like it because they’ll come back anyway. You’ve got the cause and effect completely backwards."

"But you’ve got to admit the efficiency, right? Think about how easy that makes things. No need to raise dozens or hundreds of troops; just cultivate exactly ten elites. Easy to manage, easy to train, and even if they die, just revive them. How convenient is that?"

"You’re talking about convenience when it comes to raising your own people?"

"Of course you raise them conveniently."

I knew it right then. Regardless of what Lune had said about this person (good-looking, beautiful voice), if the mindset was this twisted, I couldn’t just let it slide. My corrective rod was going to need to set this one straight.

"Then I’ve got no choice but to prove it. That my way is the right way. Taste the fury of our legion’s finest: our orcs."

"Aww, sounds like you put a lot of hard work into your people? Too bad for you though; our side looks stronger. Each cockatrice has probably died at least three times over."

"Hmph. No matter how many bird-brains you’ve got, what’s the point if they can’t even make it over this pit?"

"You’re really annoying to talk to, you know that?"

The penguin opened and closed its beak and fanned inside. The fire columns blasting up from the pit at unpredictable intervals had already made the air in the 2nd intercept room scorching hot.

"Ugh, it’s hot."

"If you’re hot, why not take it off?"

"No thanks. You all take yours off. What’s the point of walking around in gloomy pitch-black robes? You’re making everyone watching feel stuffy and hot."

"We’re perfectly cool, actually. Heh."

Under the robes there was just a single layer of stockings; no reason to be hot. From the start, when planning the hell pit, the only armor assumed for the orcs who might have to fight inside it was Andras Armor, nothing else.

"Oh yeah? I’ll really cool you down then."

The penguin dropped to all fours on the ground. Then it pushed its beak into one of the holes in the floor. I had no idea what it was about to do, and then.

"Ugh."

The penguin’s beak flew open. A burst of light shot out from inside, and while I couldn’t make sense of it, thankfully our legion had no shortage of individuals sensitive to magical flow.

"Lune!"

"Something’s... about to happen! There’s an insane amount of mana surging from that beak!"

I could feel in my gut that the penguin was up to something with that beak. But there was no way to check what it was. The distance was too great, and Lune’s wind arrows (the only ranged attack option) were currently unusable.

’Damn it, I didn’t see this restriction coming.’

Fixing the shape of a wind arrow required either spirit assistance or a stable surrounding environment, and because of the fireballs the Flare Panteras were hurling up from the hell pit, Lune couldn’t lock the wind arrows into shape.

In most situations Lune could force it anyway, but the flames burning in the hell pit had long since blown past ’most situations.’

"I’m sorry. If I were just a little stronger..."

"Don’t be. The state of the battlefield isn’t your fault."

I patted Lune’s shoulder. Technically speaking, the hell pit was a trap I’d planned. The one who made it so Lune couldn’t perform here was none other than me.

’I could pull Lune back to the rear line and get some use out of that, but not right now.’

Lune didn’t even need to step up; the Flare Panteras alone were enough to hold the enemy’s advance. Whatever the penguin tried, the enemy wasn’t going to cross easily.

And then, that moment.

"BLEEEUURRGH!!"

With an enormous noise, a massive torrent of water came gushing out of the penguin’s beak.

GUSH GUSH GUSH GUSH---

The stream pouring from that wide beak was thick enough that I’d barely be able to wrap my arms around it. And it didn’t stop after one or two bursts.

"What... the hell?"

"Summoning river water. Blergh, bleaagh."

The penguin kept talking like it was nothing, even while heaving water. It really did seem like there was a separate person inside, but why on earth was the method of releasing water through vomiting?

’If it were a water cannon fired directly, we’d basically be done for.’

TSSSSS!!

The massive water hit the flames and a colossal cloud of steam billowed up. In an instant the dungeon turned into a steam room, and the robes our legion was wearing began to slowly soak through.

"Son of a..."

Stocking armor doesn’t get destroyed or weakened just from getting wet. But the heavier the moisture built up, the more the body weighed down from the water it absorbed; that couldn’t be helped. And the problem wasn’t just the stocking armor.

GUSH GUSH GUSH GUSH---!!

"Why are you dumping out so much?!"

"Because it’s a river-summoning spell! BLARGH!"

The penguin heaved river water again. The sight of it (like a dam releasing floodgates) and the floor visible through the steam made my blood run cold.

"The water... is rising?"

"BLEAAAGH!"

Sure enough, water was pooling on the floor and climbing. The Flare Panteras had punched so many holes to shoot fire through, I couldn’t understand why the water wasn’t draining.

"Master, look over there!"

"...Ice?"

I followed Lune’s pointing finger and spotted something glinting transparently. The Flare Panteras were blasting fire hard from beyond the holes, but the wall was repelling every flame like a barrier had been cast over it.

"It filled the holes with ice!"

"Quick on the uptake! Blergh, blaaagh!"

GUSH GUSH GUSH GUSH.

Water was already pooling across the floor. And instead of spreading outward, the water level was rising straight up.

The pit depth: seven meters. Filling the holes with river water. An enemy who could also use freezing abilities.

If left alone, it’d fill the entire pit with water, then freeze the surface into an ice sheet and walk right across. So leaving it alone wasn’t an option.

"Damn it, ranged fire, open up!"

Orcs armed with rocks hurled a concentrated barrage at the penguin. Gargoyle fragments packed inside stockings arced through the air and zeroed in on the penguin’s body.

"SCREEE!"

But the cockatrices fired back and knocked the rocks harmlessly to the floor. Intercepted. The cockatrices spread their wings and batted away every stone dropping toward the penguin.

"SCREEE, SCREEEE!"

THWACK.

One stray rock punched straight into the eye of the cockatrice guarding closest to the penguin. It staggered as if losing consciousness, then went limp and dropped into the pit.

"Got one! Now it should be easier to..."

GUSH GUSH GUSH GUSH GUSH!

Even more river water came pouring out of the penguin’s beak. Like everything before was just a warm-up, the penguin opened its beak wider and started heaving several times the previous volume.

"Your subordinate just fell in; aren’t you going to save it?!"

"It’s fine! I can revive it with a magic stone!"

"Are you INSANE?!"

The cockatrice that had crashed on its side on the floor began to slowly float upward. The water level was rising faster than before, and there was no clean way to take aim at the penguin hiding between the cockatrices’ wings.

"Just keep throwing! Keep going!"

The orcs followed my order and hurled the rocks they’d prepared in advance. Lune strained to produce wind arrows one by one and started picking off cockatrices.

SCREEE!

The damage output wasn’t great, but cockatrices were starting to drop into the rising pool one by one. The more of them floating on the surface, the more the water level seemed to climb.

"Damn it!"

Whether it was the dead and wounded cockatrices taking up volume in the water or something else, the rate the water was rising was absurdly fast. If this kept up, the pit was actually going to fill completely.

’They’re going to cross over, aren’t they?’

The wounded cockatrices were floating around on the surface like paddleboats on a river, flapping their wings. Bubbles were rising around them; their feet working away underwater.

"Lancelot, your unit: target the ones down in the water!"

The moment my order landed, Lancelot’s troops hurled rocks at the rising water surface. Red blood burst from the heads and bodies of the cockatrices, and the river water the penguin had vomited up was quickly turning a dark red.

"...God, this is literally like boiling chicken in a pot."

The Flare Panteras were still blasting fire nonstop at the penguin’s ice wall. If the river water stopped flowing in, the heat might eventually evaporate what was there like water in a boiling pot.

"I swear I’m gonna deep-fry these cockatrices and eat them."

The water couldn’t keep rising. I took a deep breath and shouted toward the front.

"Hey! Cliff!"

"BLAAARGH, BLERGH, BLAGH!"

The river water stopped. The penguin coughed and snapped its head up. Anger was slowly filling those hazy eyes.

"Just admit it! You’re wearing a mascot costume because you’re insecure about your body!!"

"I’M NOT!"

The penguin stomped its feet in fury. But a strong denial is basically a strong confirmation. I grinned even more smugly and pulled Lune close.

"Hahaha! So that’s why you were raging at Lune!"

I kneaded Lune’s perky chest and kept needling the penguin. The penguin’s arms started shaking, beak clacking rapidly.

"You treat your people that way because you’re lacking in warmth!"

"What does combat efficiency have to do with chest size?!"

"I said warmth; did I not?"

"...BLEEEUURRGH!!"

The penguin ducked its head back down and started violently heaving river water again. But the eyes stayed fixed on me the whole time; clearly, rather than argue with me, the plan was to cross over to our side as fast as possible and just beat us down directly.

SSSHHHHHHHHHH-----

The rate the water was rising sped up beyond anything before. The penguin had gone completely flat on the floor, beak pressed to the ground, heaving river water. The level was already roughly five meters. The scorched skull floating on the surface sent a chill through me.

"BLERGH, BLAAAGH, COCKATRICES---!!"

The penguin screamed like a battle cry.

"CHARGE ACROSS---!!"

SCREEEEEEEE!!

The two-meter roosters all spread their wings at once and launched themselves toward the lukewarm pool below.