CHAPTER 82: CHAPTER 82: THE BATTLEFIELD EMERGENCY ROOM.

The second hour began, and my ’Tournament Annex’ was transformed. The soft, gentle lullaby from Clank was replaced by a stirring, heroic anthem that seemed to vibrate with pure, unyielding optimism. The calm, pleasant atmosphere of the spa was gone, replaced by the focused, efficient energy of a battlefield emergency room.

The five poisoned and tired Challengers, who had stumbled in expecting more monsters, were completely bewildered. They were met not with aggression, but with an overwhelming wave of intense, targeted hospitality.

Kaelen was the first to act. The lead warrior of the poisoned team, his mind still reeling from the spiders and the slime, saw her approach and flinched, his hand flying to his sword. But she was like a shadow, her movements too fast and silent for a normal person. So, he braced for an attack.

Instead, she just held out a warm, steaming towel.

He stared at it, completely baffled. Was this another trap? A towel that turned you into a frog? But the warmth radiating from it felt... good. Hesitantly, he took it. The moment the soft, herb-infused fabric touched his skin, a wave of pure, blissful relief washed over him. The burning itch from the spider bites faded, and the nausea from the poison gas began to recede. He let out a groan of pure, involuntary pleasure.

Before he could even process what had happened, Kaelen had already moved on, with a silent and efficient blur, she give a warm towel into the hands of each of his equally stunned companions. As she provided the external healing, Zazu followed right behind her, the second wave of their strange, cozy assault.

He held a tray of his dark, potent ’Revitalization Brew’. "A restorative draught," he explained calmly, his voice a steady anchor in their confusion. "It will counteract the toxins and soothe your spirit."

The adventurers, having been tricked and trapped for the last hour, were suspicious, but the smell of the tea—a rich, earthy aroma with a hint of sweet honey—was too inviting. They drank. It was like pouring a healing potion directly onto their souls. The world, which had been swimming in a poisonous haze, began to sharpen back into focus.

With the poison neutralized and their bodies soothed, it was time for the final phase of the treatment.

Then came the ’Morale Medics’ turn.

Gilda, with a grunt of determination, approached the lead warrior, who was still swaying on his feet. "You look tense," she declared, her voice a low growl of concern.

The warrior flinched, expecting another attack, but before he could protest, her powerful hands began to work on his armored shoulders. There was a loud CRACK as a knot of pure, poison-induced tension that had been locked in his back for an hour was forcefully evicted. The warrior’s knees buckled, and a sound that was half-groan, half-sob of pure, involuntary relief escaped his lips.

At the same time, Sir Crumplebuns, seeing the party’s sorceress looking particularly miserable and on the verge of tears, heroically charged forward. "FEAR NOT, BRAVE HEALER!" he boomed, getting her class completely wrong but with the best of intentions. "A SUPPORTIVE HUG IS THE ULTIMATE CURE FOR A WOUNDED SPIRIT!"

The sorceress, who had just been fighting giant spiders, braced for an attack, but was instead enveloped in a massive, plushy hug. The sudden, unexpected comfort, coming right after an hour of pure misery, was so overwhelming that a single, frustrated tear escaped her eye and traced a path through the grime on her cheek.

(Gloomfang Caverns)

Meanwhile, in the other dungeon, Brutus was having a very, very confusing hour.

The Well-Rested Buff was working perfectly, which was the problem for him.

The air in the Gloomfang Caverns was a thick, wet poison that tasted of rot and regret. It stung his eyes and made the back of his throat itch. His warrior’s instincts, honed over a hundred battles, were screaming at him.

’This air is poison! Every breath is a weakness!’

But the buff was like a warm, gentle hum in his soul, a magical voice that whispered, ’It’s fine. You’re just a little sleepy.’

He saw a giant, hairy spider drop from the ceiling, its fangs dripping with a glowing green venom. His muscles coiled, his body screaming at him to dodge, to raise his shield, to roar a battle cry.

But the buff just... smoothed out the edges of his panic. The thought that rose in his mind wasn’t, ’A deadly threat!’ but a strangely detached, ’Oh, look. A spider.’

He smashed it with his shield, the impact was a dull, almost lazy thud. The creature flew back into the darkness.

"This is the weirdest fight I have ever been in," he muttered to his team, who all nodded in a sleepy, baffled agreement. They were taking damage, their armor was dissolving, but they were all too cozy to be properly alarmed by it.

It was like they were trying to be terrified while wrapped in a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night. The danger was real, but the feeling of it was completely, utterly wrong.

(The Royal Arena)

When the final timer chimed, the two parties of Challengers stepped back out into the arena for the last time. The crowd gasped, a wave of stunned silence washing over the stadium, which was then immediately followed by a roar of laughter.

The party that had started in the Gloomfang Caverns now looked... fine. A little tired, a little grimy, but the poison was gone, their armor was being gently tidied by a tiny Dust Bunny that had apparently stowed away on their sorceress’s robes, and they all looked remarkably calm. They looked less like warriors who had survived a battle and more like patients who had just woken up from a very strange but effective surgery.

Brutus’s party, on the other hand, looked merely frustrated. Their armor was a bit corroded, and the ranger had a single, apologetic-looking spiderweb on his helmet, but otherwise, they were in excellent condition.

The commentator was at a loss for words. "Folks... I... I don’t know how to describe this. The party that went through the poison dungeon first looks like they’ve just had a refreshing nap, and the party that went through second looks like they were mildly inconvenienced. This is a strategic masterpiece from The Comfy Corner!"

In the Royal Box, King Caspian was roaring with laughter. High Adjudicator Thistlewick just stared, his mouth slightly open, for once too shocked to even be angry.

The judges’ deliberation was the shortest in tournament history.

(The Judges’ Deliberation Chamber)

"The results are undeniable!" Maestro Valerius declared, clapping his hands with glee. "One team is practically glowing with health, the other looks like it’s been personally insulted by a swamp! It’s a clear victory for the power of pampering!"

Archmage Tiberius sniffed, adjusting his spectacles. "The methods were unorthodox. There was a distinct lack of offensive spellcasting. However," he conceded, looking at the data on his own Scry-Crystal, "the final wellness scores do not lie. The application of a ’Well-Rested Buff’ to mitigate environmental damage is... a fascinating, if academically questionable, strategy."

Inspector Barnaby just sighed and stamped a form. "The wellness score is the primary metric for this event. The Comfy Corner’s starting party has a 98% higher final score. The result is clear. This report will be a nightmare for me to write."

(The Royal Arena)

The final verdict flashed on the Scry-Screens.

[WINNER: THE COMFY CORNER]

[Reason: The Challenger party that started in The Comfy Corner finished the gauntlet with a 98% higher final wellness score than the party that started in the Gloomfang Caverns. A decisive victory.]

FaeLina let out a triumphant squeak. Our plan had been thrown into chaos, but the result was the same. We had won. We had beaten a poison dungeon with the power of a really, really good spa day.

A new notification appeared in my consciousness.

[Congratulations! You have won your first match in the Group Stage!]

[Congratulations! You have won your first match! You have been placed in ’Group C’ for the next round. Your first opponent in the group stage will be a neutral dungeon known as ’The Whispering Library’.]

______

Author’s Note:

And the ’Tale of Two Spas’ strategy is a massive success! I love the idea of them giving the adventurers a power-up that helps them in the other dungeon. It’s the ultimate power move.

The image of a tough, battle-hardened adventurer tearing up because Sir Crumplebuns gave him a supportive hug is the reason I write this story. That’s pure, weaponized wholesomeness right there.

They’ve won their first match of the main tournament! But now they have to face off with the other dungeons in group battle. What kind of weird, cozy battle plan will they come up with for that? Thanks for reading!