The day after Duke Valerius's departure, a new kind of peace settled over The Comfy Corner. It was a deeper, more confident quiet. The dungeon had faced a true, ancient darkness and had won, not with swords, but with its own unique brand of cozy magic. It felt like we had leveled up, not just in power, but in purpose.
The tourists and adventurers who began to come back in could feel it too. There was a new level of respect, of awe, in the way they looked at the Tea Nook or the Hibernation Hollows. My dungeon was no longer just a viral sensation; it was becoming a legend.
This new, peaceful status quo lasted for almost an entire day before, naturally, it was ruined by the arrival of a man with a very large scroll and a very loud trumpet.
He was a Royal Herald, dressed in the fine blue-and-silver clothes of House Valerius. He stood at the dungeon entrance, completely out of place amongst the casually dressed visitors, and blew a deafeningly loud music on his trumpet.
He then unrolled a massive, luxurious scroll, which was at least three times taller than he was, and began to read in a stuffy, high-pitched voice.
"By the Royal decree of His Grace, Duke Valerius, Lord of the Northern Mountains, Warden of the Silver Peak, and Protector of the Realm," the herald announced, "let it be known that the establishment designated 'The Comfy Corner,' and its resident the dungeon Core, are henceforth under the sworn protection of House Valerius!"
He went on like that for another five minutes, using a lot of very fancy words like "henceforth," "wherefore," and "heretofore." The main point was that my dungeon was now officially sponsored by one of the most powerful noble houses in the kingdom. Any who would harm this place would now have to answer to the Duke himself.
The tourists and adventurers were deeply impressed, bowing respectfully. FaeLina was ecstatic.
'Royal protection, Mochi!' she cheered in my mind. 'We're not just a Sanctuary anymore, we're a Royal Sanctuary! We're practically nobility! We'll have to get you a tiny, fancy crown!'
My own reaction was less enthusiastic. I was mostly just annoyed by the loud trumpet.
The herald, his proclamation complete, then approached my core with a new stack of parchments. "As a protected ducal establishment," he said sniffily, "you are now required to file these quarterly reports on 'tranquility levels,' 'adventurer wellness metrics,' and 'ambient scent profiles'."
FaeLina's psychic cheering came to a screeching halt. 'Paperwork?!'
The herald wasn't done. He gestured to two guards outside, who struggled to carry in a "gift" from the Duke. It was a massive, ugly, stone gargoyle statue with a grumpy expression, the official sigil of House Valerius. The Duke apparently thought it would look intimidating at the entrance. It just looked like it was in desperate need of a nap and completely ruined the cozy vibe of my lobby.
'Can we put a funny hat on it?' I projected to FaeLina.
Before she could answer, the herald presented one final item: a large, locked chest. "A personal gift," he explained, "from the young Lord Elian."
I had Pip, our resident lockpick expert, open it. Inside, there was no gold or magical artifacts. Instead, the chest was filled to the brim with dozens of small, hand-carved wooden toys. There were little knights with friendly smiles, chubby-looking dragons that looked more cuddly than scary, and happy little gryphons. Each one was simple, but carved with a remarkable amount of love and care.
A small, handwritten note was tucked inside.
'This gifts are for your dungeon. I thought your monsters might be lonely. Thank you for giving me back my dreams.' - Elian
It was a quiet, simple, and profoundly touching gift. This was the true reward for the quest.
I looked at the simple, charming wooden toys. I thought of my own minions—the formless, wiggling Pillow Fiends and the simple, fluffy Dust Bunnies. They were effective, but they lacked... personality. What if they could be more?
A new idea sparked. I accessed the Dungeon Menu, looking for an upgrade I'd never considered before, under the [Core Abilities] tab.
[Core Ability Upgrade: 'Artisan's Soul'? Allows the Core to imbue summoned minions with more complex personalities and appearances, using physical objects as a design template.]
The system showed me that the charming, hand-carved toys from Elian could be used as the "templates" for a whole new generation of minions. I could create monsters that looked like friendly, happy toys.
I looked at the pile of charming wooden figures. A new, exciting creative project was forming in my mind.
In the background, FaeLina was already groaning at the thought of having to fill out the Duke's quarterly reports.