Chapter 16 – Spicy Sword Dance and the Golden Towel Quest

The monster let out a roar that could have rattled the bones of the whole dungeon. Dust rained from the stalactites like somebody had just shaken an old attic. My ears rang and my knees tried to vote for “run first, think later.”

That’s when a sudden flash of silver shot past me.

Lucy Scott.

She appeared like a storm in human form, sword gleaming with a cold light. One clean slash knocked the monster’s claw back before it could turn Urara into a decorative floor smear.

“Late entrance, dramatic as always,” I muttered, half in relief, half in sheer terror.

“You’re welcome,” she said, without even looking at me. Classic Lucy—saving lives with the enthusiasm of someone picking up dry cleaning.

The monster roared again, as if offended that a human had dented its pride. The air turned hot, like someone had opened an oven door the size of a house.

Lily darted left, Urara darted right, both trying to confuse the beast. I, naturally, was still standing there trying to remember if I’d updated my will.

Lucy’s sword clanged against the creature’s plated scales. Sparks rained down like fireworks, but the monster barely flinched.

“Okay…this thing is basically a walking tank.” I swallowed hard. “New plan needed. Now.”

Lucy gritted her teeth. “Any ideas that don’t involve us dying?”

And that’s when the ridiculous thought hit me. Cooking.

Yeah, I know. Giant death monster, and my brain went straight to food. But the System had given me that mysterious Cooking Skill Level 2—and if there was ever a time to test drive weird powers, it was right before getting eaten.

“Hold it off for ten minutes!” I yelled.

“What?!” Lily nearly tripped dodging a swipe. “Ten minutes? We might be pancakes by then!”

“Trust me,” I shouted back, already digging through my System pocket.

Inside my invisible inventory, rows of ingredients shimmered. Spicy herbs from a dozen worlds. Chili peppers that could melt iron. Garlic so strong it could make a vampire write a formal complaint.

My heart pounded as I pulled them out and set up the tiniest hotpot kitchen this side of hell. Flames danced from my portable stove—thank you, Urara’s bottomless bag of gadgets—and a cloud of fiery aroma filled the cavern.

Even the monster paused mid-swipe, its snout twitching. Good. Let the smell of impending stomachache confuse you.

I chopped, I stirred, I sprinkled powders that could probably burn through steel. Sweat streamed down my face. The steam turned my hair into something that could qualify as modern art.

Finally, the broth bubbled like a cauldron of lava. My masterpiece: Ultra Spicy Dungeon Hotpot.

“Lucy!” I called, ladling a heroic portion into a bowl. “Eat this. Now!”

She spared me a glance mid-duel, eyes wide. “Are you out of your mind?!”

“Yes. But trust me anyway!”

Lucy then remember her powers conditions.

Lily and Urara, bless their brave souls, doubled their efforts to keep the monster’s attention. Lily darted in with her sword, Urara leapt from rock to rock like an overly caffeinated squirrel.

Lucy, still skeptical, snatched the bowl and gulped it down like a shot of courage.

The effect was… immediate.

Her eyes widened; flames seemed to flicker in their depths. A sudden gust of heat radiated off her like a furnace. She dropped the empty bowl and her entire body shone with a crimson glow.

“Ohhh,” she whispered, a grin tugging at her lips. “That’s hot.”

And then—BOOM.

Her sword ignited in a spiral of blazing fire. Not just the polite campfire kind. We’re talking full-on volcano deciding it’s done with everyone’s nonsense kind of fire.

For the first time, I witnessed Lucy’s legendary Sword Fire Dance.

She moved like a streak of molten light, every swing carving flaming arcs through the air. Sparks rained down like shooting stars as she weaved between the monster’s legs.

The beast howled, staggering as the fiery blade sliced through the weak joints my Golden Eye had revealed earlier.

Slash—flame. Roar—flame. It was like watching a deadly ballet choreographed by a pyromaniac.

Urara pumped her fists, shouting encouragement that was fifty percent words and fifty percent pure chaos. Lily actually paused mid-swing to stare, mouth open.

“Why didn’t she do that earlier?!” I yelled over the noise.

“She needed… that conditions and did you feed her?!” Lily shouted back.

“Trade secret!” I grinned, though my eyebrows were singed from the heat.

With one final whirl of her flaming sword, Lucy leapt high and drove the blade straight into the monster’s skull.

The cavern filled with a deafening crack, followed by silence.

Then the giant toppled like a felled tree, shaking the ground so hard I nearly fell into my own hotpot.

Dust settled. The smell of roasted monster—oddly like overcooked chicken—lingered in the air.

Urara whooped. “That… was… AWESOME!”

Lucy exhaled, the fire fading from her blade. “Not bad,” she said, as if she hadn’t just turned a nightmare creature into grilled dinner.

I held up my now empty pot. “So… my cooking skill finally proved useful. You’re welcome.”

Lucy gave me a sideways glance. “…You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously effective,” I corrected.

We all burst into exhausted laughter, the kind you only manage after you’ve survived something that should’ve killed you three times over.

By the time we emerged from the dungeon, the outside world felt strangely too bright, too normal—like we’d just stepped off a roller coaster into a quiet library.

Knights and workers crowded the gate, murmuring anxiously. When they saw Lucy stride out—unscathed, sword resting on her shoulder—the crowd hushed, then broke into relieved cheers.

The head knight strode forward, his jaw practically on the ground. “Lady Lucy… you—what—how…?” He trailed off, clearly out of words.

Lucy merely nodded, brushing past him like a queen returning from a casual shopping trip. The man looked like he wanted to salute and faint at the same time.

I decided to let her soak up the spotlight. Less explaining for me.

But one person refused to let me escape unnoticed.

“Erik!”

A flash of royal blue and suddenly the queen herself barreled toward me. Before I could blink, she wrapped me in a hug tight enough to crack a rib.

“Hey—your majesty—air, I need air—” I wheezed.

She pulled back just enough to glare at me, eyes flashing. “You vanish into a death dungeon and expect me to stay calm?”

“Well… yeah?” I offered a weak grin.

Her glare softened, but only slightly. “Idiot,” she muttered, then hugged me again.

Urara smirked, Lily tried—and failed—to hide a giggle, and even Lucy’s stoic mouth twitched into something like a smile and little anger.

I didn’t even care that the queen was crushing my lungs. For the first time that day, I actually felt safe enough to laugh.

Once the hugging marathon ended, we piled into my trusty car—a sleek black beast with fourteen seats and a secret system upgrade that lets it stretch bigger on command. Think magic limousine meets transformer. Lucia gawked like a tourist seeing her first skyscraper.

“This… moves?” she asked, poking the leather seats.

“It flies too, on weekends,” I deadpanned.

Her jaw dropped. I didn’t correct myself.

The ride home was a blur of laughter and exhausted yawns. By the time we reached my house, the sun was dipping low, painting the sky in molten orange. I opened the door and nearly dropped my keys.

Two surprises waited inside.

First: Alicia and Kiara, both sitting primly on the couch like they hadn’t been missing for days.
Second: a woman I’d never seen before—tall, elegant, with eyes the same violet hue as Lucia’s.

“Mother!” Lucia cried, rushing forward. Tears sparkled in her eyes as she embraced the woman.

My stomach performed a triple backflip. Oh no. My lie.
I had told everyone earlier that Lucia’s mother had sent me to find her. And here was said mother, very much alive and probably very curious about that story.

“So,” the woman began, looking at me with a perfectly polite smile that somehow promised doom, “you are the detective who found my daughter?”

Time to improvise. “Yes! And might I say—uh—this reunion is beautiful, isn’t it? Speaking of beauty, would anyone like tea? Or… spicy soup? I’m an expert now!”

Before she could question further, I launched into an enthusiastic description of our monster fight, effectively steamrolling over my earlier fib. By the time I finished, everyone was too busy marveling at Lucia’s new flame technique to interrogate me. Crisis: skillfully avoided.

As evening settled in, the house transformed into a cheerful chaos. The queen, Lucia, Lily, Urara, Alicia, and Kiara all decided—without even pretending to ask—that they were staying the night. My once-peaceful home now resembled a royal boarding house.

I stared at the ceiling and whispered, “System, I need more rooms. Maybe a second kitchen. And a moat. Definitely a moat.”

Ding! A quiet notification pinged in my mind.
Reward Granted: Advanced Cooking Skill.
“Thanks, but maybe throw in some extra plumbing too,” I grumbled.

While I was still processing the new invasion of freeloaders, the door creaked open again. A girl stepped inside—cute as a summer peach, with tanned skin and a tumble of red hair that gleamed like sunset.

She scanned the room, eyes widening as she took in the scene: the queen sipping tea, Lily polishing her bow, Alicia and Kiara lounging like they owned the place. Then her gaze landed on me.

Before I could even say hi, Urara emerged from her room holding three enormous bugs—her latest insect trophies. The new girl squeaked. “Sister!”

Urara dropped the bugs and rushed forward. “You came!” She hugged her tightly.

The girl—clearly Urara’s sister—leaned close and whispered something sharp. Her eyes flicked to me with suspicion. “Are you collecting women like… insects? Or worse… (like Pokémon)?”

I choked. “Excuse me?!”

Urara, cheeks pink, waved her hands. “No, no, he’s not like that! He’s… good. Really good.”
The sister narrowed her eyes but said nothing. The judgment hung in the air like a storm cloud.

I sighed. What a week. Few days ago from near-death battles to awkward family reunions to being accused of starting a very strange harem—my detective career had definitely taken some unexpected turns.

Then Urara’s sister cleared her throat. “If you really are a detective, prove it. Help me. My precious Gold Stone Cloth is missing.”

“Gold… stone… cloth?” I echoed.

“It’s just a towel,” Urara explained, “but woven with golden threads. Very important.”

Before I could answer, that familiar electronic chime rang in my head.

Ding!
NEW QUEST: Help find the Golden Thread Towel.
Reward: AK-47 rifle with 10 rounds.

I blinked. “Wait. A rifle? For finding a towel?”

The system stayed silent, as always.
I rubbed my temples. “Yeah… now the system’s on fire.”

Looks like tomorrow’s case involves towels and, apparently, automatic weapons. Just another normal day in my not-so-normal life.

The evening’s chaos hadn’t even cooled when Urara’s sister finally told us the full story.
She sat cross-legged on the floor, tanned skin glowing in the lamplight, her red hair like a sunset with attitude. Her voice dropped low, almost conspiratorial.

“I was escaping from my hideout,” she began, “moving to another safe tunnel. Needed a break, so I stopped near a place called Beflo. While resting, I disguised myself—dyed my hair to hide my identity. No one could recognise me.”

She let the next words hang like a drumroll. “That’s when I lost it… my Gold Stone Cloth.”

Everyone leaned in. Even the queen set down her teacup.

“It’s not just a towel,” the girl continued, “it’s woven with golden threads from a mine that collapsed centuries ago. The last of its kind. Even a mountain of gold coins couldn’t match its value.”

I whistled. “So basically… the world’s fanciest washcloth?”

She glared. “It’s priceless.”

“Right. Priceless washcloth. Got it.”

Before the awkward silence could stretch, Alicia popped up like a firework. “Beflo? That’s my homeland!” she declared, hands on her hips. “I know every path and every gossiping old granny in that town. I’ll guide you.”

So it decided that she will go with us and her sister will take care the library chaos.

The queen straightened with the air of someone who runs an empire but secretly loves road trips. “Then it’s settled. I’ll arrange the carts and supplies. You leave tomorrow at dawn.”

Lucia raised an eyebrow. “You’re joining us, Your Majesty?”

The queen’s lips curved into a sly smile. “Someone has to keep you all from turning this into another monster hunt.”

I mumbled, “Because nothing says low-profile like travelling with a queen.”

Plans made, we started prepping for the journey. I was mentally listing food supplies when the front door banged open.
Great, I thought, here comes another round of unexpected houseguests.

Our magical barrier was supposed to stop intruders, but apparently it worked about as well as a “Do Not Disturb” sign in a college dorm. Sometimes I wondered if monsters respected boundaries better than humans.

I turned, expecting more freeloaders, maybe a traveling salesman. Instead, the air in the room froze.

Standing in the doorway were two imposing figures, their presence so sharp it could cut glass. A man and a woman dressed in regal attire—silver embroidery catching the lantern light. Their eyes locked instantly on two familiar girls.

“Lucy. Lily,” the man said, voice like a winter storm. “Home. Now.”

Oh. Oh no.

Lucia whispered, “Their… parents.”

Lily’s face drained of colour. Lucy rubbed the back of her neck like a child caught stealing cookies.

Fantastic, I thought. Royal parents. My evening just upgraded from sitcom to full-blown drama.

The mother crossed her arms. “Do you have any idea how long you’ve been away? And now we find you—here?” Her gaze swept the room, pausing on me for exactly one second too long.

I did my best smile. “Lovely evening, isn’t it? Tea?”

Neither parent moved. The silence was so thick you could spread it on toast.

“Uh,” I added helpfully, “we just fought a monster the size of a carriage. Spicy soup was involved.”

Lily made a noise that might have been a strangled laugh. Lucy coughed. Their parents, however, looked like they’d just bitten into a lemon.

“Enough,” the father said at last. “You two are coming home. Tonight.”

“Y-yes, Father,” Lily started, but then Lucy stepped forward, eyes bright with something dangerously close to mischief. She whispered something I couldn’t hear. Lily added a few quick words of her own.

Whatever it was, it worked like magic. Their parents’ icy expressions thawed. The mother gave me a look that was half exasperation, half amusement.

“Well then,” she said, turning to me with a small smile, “take good care of them.”

“Wait—what?”

“Goodbye,” the father said briskly. He nodded once and, just like that, they turned and left.

The door clicked shut. Silence.

I blinked. “Did… did I just get given two royal daughters?”

Lucy grinned. Lily giggled behind her hand.
“Let’s go,” Lucy said breezily, as if nothing unusual had just happened.

“What—no! You can’t just— What did you say to them?”

Lucy winked. “Secret.”

I threw my hands in the air. “Unbelievable.”

The queen, of course, found the entire scene delightful. She stepped forward, still wearing her mischievous smile.

“I’ll ride in the first cart tomorrow,” she announced.

I stared. “You’re coming too? Don’t you have… royal paperwork? A kingdom to run? People to decree at?”

She tilted her head, eyes sparkling. “If anyone kidnaps me, you’ll save me. My hero.”

I nearly choked. “That’s… not reassuring.”

But apparently, my opinion didn’t matter. The travel party was set:
— The queen herself, apparently on vacation.
— Lucia, our fiery sword-dancer.
— Lily, the sharp-eyed scientist who could probably build a bomb out of kitchen cutlery.
— Alicia, native of Beflo and newly appointed towel-hunt guide.
— Urara, fearless fighter and part-time bug enthusiast.
— And Urara’s sister, owner of the world’s most expensive hand towel.

Me? I was the reluctant detective somehow in charge of this travelling circus.

“Car or carts?” someone asked as we finalized plans.

I looked at my magical fourteen-seater car, still parked in the driveway. Normally I’d take the easy route—air-conditioned seats, smooth ride. But after the last few days, I needed fresh air and a slower pace.

“No car,” I said finally. “Let’s enjoy the trip. Old-fashioned adventure.”

Urara gave me a thumbs-up. The queen clapped like a kid offered free candy.

“Besides,” I added with a grin, patting the invisible pocket where my latest system reward rested, I’ve got my new AK-47. If any monsters show up, we’ll give them a very loud good-morning.

As the night deepened, our strange company settled down. The queen supervised the royal guards as they readied the carts—gilded frames, sturdy wheels, and enough space for an army. Alicia pored over maps of Beflo, muttering about secret paths. Urara and her sister argued about who got to sit next to the driver. Lily tinkered with some mysterious gadget that hummed softly.

I stood at the doorway, the evening breeze carrying the scent of pine and distant rain. Tomorrow we’d be hunting a towel worth more than a king’s ransom. We’d travel with a queen who considered danger a vacation, two royal daughters whose parents had basically shrugged and handed them over, and a tanned girl whose priceless washcloth might just spark another monster showdown.

I shook my head and chuckled. Monsters, assassins, ancient treasures—none of it scared me anymore. But a group this chaotic?

That… that was terrifying.

Still, as I fingered the cold metal of the AK-47 hidden in my system pocket, a grin tugged at the corner of my mouth.

“Come on then, Beflo,” I whispered to the night. “Let’s see what you’ve got. And if any monsters are listening—bring it on. I’ve got bullets with your names on them.”

The wind rustled the trees in response, like the world itself accepted the challenge.