Chapter 15: Dungeon Crawling for Dummies

The entrance to the Catacombs of the Forgotten was a stone maw set into the side of a hill, looking less like a holy burial site and more like the world's most depressing gopher hole. A cold, musty wind breathed from its depths, carrying the scent of ancient dust and decay. It was the kind of place that sensible people avoided.

Kazuma's party was not sensible people.

"Alright, everybody, listen up!" Deadpool announced, clapping his hands together. He had traded his katanas for a more appropriate loadout. Slung over his back was a large canvas satchel filled with brushes of various sizes, a small pickaxe, and a comically oversized magnifying glass. He wore a mining helmet with a sputtering candle affixed to the front, which he had "borrowed" from a shop mannequin. "Welcome to Operation: Antique Sock-quisition! I am your lead archaeologist and head of acquisitions. Kazuma, you're in charge of complaining and strategic retreats. Aqua, you're on hydration and whining. Darkness, you're our designated trap-finder, just walk in front and touch everything. Megumin, you're on… well, you're our moral support. From a safe distance. Preferably outside."

"I could end this entire quest in five seconds with one glorious spell," Megumin grumbled, kicking a rock. "We wouldn't even have to go inside."

"And risk damaging the priceless historical artifacts within?" Deadpool gasped, clutching his chest in mock horror. "Have you no respect for history? For fashion? For the delicate, centuries-old fibers of the past? Barbarian."

With Aqua providing a glowing orb of holy light that cast long, dancing shadows, they descended into the darkness. The air grew colder, the silence broken only by the drip-drip-drip of unseen water and Aqua's constant complaints about the humidity frizzing her hair. The hallway was narrow, lined with sealed stone alcoves.

"Fascinating," Deadpool mused, running his hand along the wall. "Classic mid-era masonry. You can tell by the way the stones are completely… stony. Very impressive." He tapped on one of the alcoves. "The real treasures are in here. But we need to find the main burial chambers. That's where the high-rollers are buried. The nobles, the arch-mages, the guys who could afford the good socks."

As they rounded the first corner, they found what they were looking for. The hallway opened into a small chamber, and from the shadows, three figures shambled forward. They were skeletons, clad in the tattered remains of ancient armor, their bones stained with age. Their empty eye sockets glowed with a faint, malevolent blue light.

"Undead!" Kazuma hissed, drawing his short sword. "Okay, party, formation! Darkness, up front! Aqua, prepare your Turn Undead! Megumin, stay back!"

Darkness stepped forward, a broad, ecstatic smile on her face. "Yes! The claustrophobic press of battle! Their bony fingers will scratch at my armor! Their rusty blades will…"

She charged, swinging her massive broadsword in an arc that would have been devastating if it had connected with anything other than the stone wall two feet to the left of the nearest skeleton. The resulting CLANG echoed through the catacombs, and her sword became firmly wedged in the masonry.

"Ah! My blade is stuck!" she cried out, though she sounded more thrilled than concerned. "I am disarmed and vulnerable! What exquisite peril!"

The three skeletons, seemingly confused by this turn of events, turned their attention to her and began to slash and poke at her armor with their rusty swords. Each blow produced a metallic tink and a soft moan of pleasure from the Crusader.

"Okay, new plan!" Kazuma yelled. "Aqua, now!"

"Behold, you blasphemous bone-bags!" Aqua shouted, striking a dramatic pose. "And be purified by my divine light! Turn Undead!"

A wave of brilliant, holy energy washed over the skeletons. Two of them immediately crumbled into piles of dust and discarded armor. It was, for once, the perfect spell for the situation.

The third skeleton, however, was still standing. It had been partially shielded by a pillar and was now advancing on Aqua, its jaw clicking menacingly.

"It's fine! I've got this!" Deadpool yelled, leaping into action. But he didn't charge the skeleton. He charged the piles of dust that used to be the other skeletons.

He dove to the ground with his brushes, frantically trying to sweep away the bone dust from the tattered leather boots and scraps of cloth that were left behind. "No, no, no! You fool! You vaporized them!" he shrieked at Aqua. "Look at this! Irreparable damage to the artifact site! These were primary sources! The foot wrappings are completely carbonized! This is a tragedy! A crime against history!"

While Deadpool was having an archaeological meltdown, the last skeleton raised its sword to strike Aqua.

"Tch!" Kazuma clicked his tongue in annoyance. He thrust his hand out. "Steal!"

A flash of light shot from his hand. He had been aiming for the skeleton's sword, but his luck stat had other ideas. Instead of the sword, the object that materialized in his hand was the skeleton's left leg bone.

The skeleton froze. It looked down at its now-empty hip socket. It looked at Kazuma holding its leg. It wobbled for a moment, then toppled over with a clatter of bones.

"Uh… task failed successfully?" Kazuma muttered, looking at the femur in his hand.

Deadpool immediately abandoned the dust piles and scrambled over to the fallen, one-legged skeleton. "Don't move! Don't you dare move a single metatarsal!" he commanded the pile of bones. He pulled out his magnifying glass and leaned in close, examining the skeleton's remaining foot.

The skeleton, being a mindless creature of low intelligence, did not move.

"Yes… yes, it's magnificent," Deadpool whispered reverently. Tattered remnants of a leather boot clung to its foot bones, and underneath, miraculously preserved by the dry air of the tomb, was the unmistakable shape of a sock. It was a coarse, woolen thing, dyed a faded brown, but it was intact.

"Gently now, gently," he murmured to himself, using a small pair of tweezers from his satchel to delicately pick away the fragments of leather. "We mustn't damage the patina."

The rest of the party just stood and watched, utterly dumbfounded, as their unkillable mercenary performed delicate field surgery on a skeleton's foot.

After a few minutes of painstaking work, he managed to slide the ancient sock off the bone. He held it up to the light of Aqua's orb. It was fragile, dusty, and smelled like a mummy's closet. To Deadpool, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Item #002," he breathed, carefully placing it in a specially prepared, acid-free pouch. "I shall call him 'Hubert the Hob-Sock, First of His Name.' A truly foundational piece for the pre-renaissance collection."

He then turned to the one-legged skeleton, which was still lying on the floor. "Thank you for your donation," he said politely, before kicking its skull clean off its spinal column, finally dispatching it. "Alright, team! Let's find the treasury! I bet the king in this dump was buried with argyle!"

He forged ahead, humming a cheerful tune, leaving his party standing in a room with two piles of dust, a disembodied leg bone, and a deep, shared sense of foreboding. The dungeon crawl had officially become a high-stakes antiquing trip, and Kazuma had a terrible feeling that the curator was a lot more dangerous than the exhibits.