Lewd Dungeon Master: This Orc Is Too Damn OP!-Chapter 236: They Call It Concrete

A little while later. Gremory’s dungeon, portal entrance.

"Help me!! AAAAAAGH!!"

Amy screamed and cried out in agony.

"Please, someone help! I feel like I’m dying!! AAAAAAGHHH!!"

On the outside, it felt like the stinging divine power was eating away at his skin, burning him alive. On the inside, the pain of something gnawing through raw flesh came in wave after wave. And thanks to the aphrodisiac injected directly into his system, the heat in his body just wouldn’t quit.

"You worthless little—you call yourselves my subordinates?!"

Amy screamed with his eyes completely bloodshot. The subordinates he’d worked so hard to raise couldn’t bring themselves to step forward. The soft, steady glow of light drifting down from above Amy had dozens of demons crowding together, shrinking back.

"How are we supposed to fight that?!"

"An orc using divine power—that’s just cheating!!"

Amy’s subordinates vented their frustration. Galahad, the one actually holding the blade to Amy’s throat, couldn’t have cared less about all the noise they were making. He just kept a cold expression and planted his boot down on Amy’s lower back.

"GHKK—CKKHHH!!"

Amy almost went cross-eyed. The foreign sensation squirming around inside his gut felt like bugs crawling around in there. It had happened while divine power had briefly blinded him, so he had no idea what the enemy had actually done to him.

"GREMOOOORY!!"

"What is it now? You’re so loud."

WHUMP!

Gremory kicked Amy square in the groin with the toe of her heeled shoe. Amy’s head dropped silently to the floor. Galahad, for his part, kept his sword pressed to Amy’s throat and didn’t budge an inch, no matter how much Amy was suffering.

"Is the Legion Commander not coming?"

"Nope. Sounds like things are pretty rough over there. But I got the message passed along, so we’re good."

Gremory set down the slime she’d been carrying and placed it on the ground.

"Ready to get started?"

Grrrowl.

The slime shaped itself into a neat cylinder and began boring straight down into the floor. In no time at all it had made a space more than big enough for a grown man to fit inside, carved out to exactly the depth where Amy would be buried up to his neck.

"Put him in, Galahad."

"Yes, ma’am."

Galahad grabbed Amy by the scruff of his neck and hauled him upright by force. Amy had barely pulled himself together enough to struggle, twisting and writhing; it was pointless.

THWACK! CRACK!

"GKHHURGH..."

"That’s on behalf of our Legion Commander."

Gremory gave Amy one sharp kick on each side of the groin, left then right. There was an audible crunch with how clean those hits landed, and Amy went limp, foaming at the mouth. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

Thud.

Amy was jammed into the hole up to his neck, only his head poking out. His arms and legs were still bound, so he had no way to push off the ground and climb out, and there was no time to work the ropes loose either.

"Do we fill in the dirt now?"

"No. Use this."

Thunk! Two orcs in black arm warmers and stockings set an entire slime dragon down onto the ground. Gremory stepped in front of Amy and ground her heel down on Amy’s forehead.

"GGHKK...!"

"You break into someone else’s dungeon, you answer for it. Don’t you think?"

"Why did you betray us... Gremory!"

Even with his forehead pinned to the ground, Amy glared up at Gremory and let her have it. Galahad had swung his sword toward the subordinates at the portal side, which gave Amy a small window to actually talk.

"Why did you betray Lord Halphas?!"

"I don’t really see why I’d need to explain that to you."

Gremory worked her foot back and forth and pointed a finger down at Amy’s hole.

"Want to know something fun? Slime dragon fluid, if you give it enough time, sets solid."

"What?"

"Pour it."

Before Gremory even finished the sentence, Amy felt something cold and deeply wrong creeping up behind him, and the goosebumps were instant. He tried to turn his head to look, but he couldn’t.

"I was just planning on hanging back and running support from the rear, but because of you I ended up looking like the useless one by comparison. The humans put on such a great showing; what do I look like?"

Glug, glug!

The orcs started pushing slime dragon fluid down into the hole. Amy went stiff with fear as he felt something thick and sticky slowly rising from below his feet.

"What—what IS this?!"

"They call it concrete."

If only it were flames consuming him from a fire pit. If only it were ice magic and he were freezing solid from below. Either of those would have been less terrifying than this.

"I don’t know what this is but PLEASE SOMEONE HELP!!"

"Sure, we’re keeping you alive. Your daddy, that orc you killed, is itching to beat you to death personally. You’re going to stay alive and right here until then, so just hang tight."

Gremory flicked her fingers and sent little shards of ice conjured from mana flying into the hole. The shards hit the fluid and rapidly solidified the surrounding slime, and Amy’s body, from the waist down, stopped moving entirely, like he’d been sealed inside stone.

"Th—this can’t—AAAAAAAHHHH!!"

"God, you are so noisy. Galahad, do we have anything to stuff in there?"

"Please give me one moment. You there, come here."

Galahad pointed at an orc who’d been scraping fluid off the slime dragon. The orc shuffled over and stood in front of Galahad, fidgeting.

"What unit are you with?"

"Sir! I’m Asher, assigned to the late Lord Arthur’s squad, sir!"

"I see. I’ll give you the chance to take revenge on behalf of Lord Arthur. Take off your stockings."

"...I beg your pardon?"

Asher was confused. He momentarily blanked out trying to figure out what the connection was between avenging his father, Arthur, and taking off his stockings.

"Hey, kid, you’ve been with the Ras forces and you don’t know what she’s getting at? Take those off and stuff them in this bastard’s mouth: that’s what she’s saying."

"...Oh!"

Asher quickly peeled off the stockings he wore as lower-body armor. The rolled-up black stockings steamed with the heat of all the sweat he’d worked up during the fight.

"Ball them up and shove them in."

"Yes, sir!"

Asher rolled his stockings into a tight ball. Amy started shaking his head frantically.

"No! Please! Not that! Anything but that!"

"Are you serious right now? You stage an uprising, kill our Legion Commander’s son, and you’re asking for mercy? Ha: you should be thanking us you’re still alive."

"Mmmphhh!!"

Amy clenched his teeth and pressed his lips shut tight. So Gremory wrinkled her nose and flicked mana downward.

ZZZZT!

A jolt of electricity shot straight at Amy’s groin. The sharp, jolting shock made Amy’s mouth snap open.

Shove.

"MMMMPHHH!!!"

"One’s probably gonna fall out... Hey, you, swap in. Your turn."

One stocking was stuffed into his mouth, and then another was wrapped around and around it like a gag. After a sweaty black stocking covered his eyes, Amy just completely checked out.

— If I’d known it was going to be like this, I should’ve volunteered to attack Andras’s dungeon instead.

Amy’s consciousness faded away. For him, passing out might well have been a blessing.

Scrape, scrape! Whoooosh!

"Orders from our Legion Commander. Everyone except your boss is fair game."

"Don’t be afraid. I’ll give each of you a clean, one-hit finish."

At least Amy didn’t get to see, or hear, his subordinates getting wiped out by the witch and the Orc Paladin.

***

There was no getting my hands on cement.

But there was a substitute that could do the job. I ordered a slime dragon pulled out of the slime sub-dungeon and poured into the hole where Amy was buried.

’Getting buried in the ground in that state is going to be a whole ordeal.’

Everything below his neck was going to harden in what was essentially an aphrodisiac: slime fluid. So every time he got worked up he’d be slamming into the walls. And if things hardened while he wasn’t worked up, it might actually crush and cut off the blood supply every time he did get worked up.

’Necrosis or not: not my problem.’

Even just for attacking our forces, keeping him alive was questionable; and then he went and killed Arthur on top of that? There’s no way he gets to live. He absolutely had to die, but killing him right this second wasn’t an option with the Seizure Battle situation being what it was, so all we could do was keep him alive in a state as close to death as possible.

’So that wraps up the situation on Gremory’s end, then.’

As long as nothing new was coming through Amy’s portal, the rear wasn’t a major threat anymore. But there was always the chance something strange might come through Amy’s portal, so I couldn’t pull the forces currently in Gremory’s dungeon over to our side just yet.

’We work with what we’ve got.’

Being able to adapt on the fly is important, but there’s always a minimum number of people you need just to hold a defense. Without that minimum, you have no idea what could blow up somewhere.

For example: residents of Ras Vegas attempting to escape.

"Master, message from Eila. Apparently about ten workers from Ras Vegas tried to sneak away overnight. Six were caught, but four got away."

Looks like the Ras Vegas residents had noticed when Eila led the main force through the portal. If they were already watching for a chance to bolt, the perfect moment, even by my own assessment, would’ve been right when the orcs pulled out into the dungeon.

"Trying to flee mid-battle... Why’d the ones who got caught say they were leaving?"

"They’re all blaming the Ras situation as their reason, but apparently some of them were wearing three pairs of stockings layered on and others had a bag packed full of them when they tried to run. Sounds like they were looking to sell them off and make some serious money."

"Tch. Thank goodness I already brought the price down to something reasonable."

Like moths to a flame: in their eyes, those stockings must’ve looked like pure gold.

"Whatever. If they have any sense, they won’t go around bragging they came straight out of Ras Vegas when they try to sell them. Pass the word to record the personal info of the ones who ran. When the Legion unifies the continent one day, I’ll put out wanted notices."

Charge: theft.

As far as I was concerned, the fact that they’d stolen stockings on their way out was a whole lot more galling than the escape itself.

"So what do we do with the ones who got caught?"

"Lune, have you ever heard of a suspended sentence? When someone commits a crime, instead of throwing them in prison right away, you give them a probationary period."

"Oh. So if they commit another crime during that period...?"

"We hit them with aggravated penalties. What would be a good one? If it’s serious: turn them into ghouls? Or depending on how bad it is, have them lay eggs? Twenty-four a day. How does that sound?"

"For a regular human, wouldn’t that just kill them from the shock?"

"At least they’d die with a smile on their face. That’s about as humane as you can get. Anyway, pass it to Eila: anyone who just couldn’t take it anymore and tried to run with only their own stuff, let them off with a warning. Anyone who touched Legion property: they’re going to the ranch."

That wrapped up the Ras Vegas issue. But as if things couldn’t get more complicated, the noise from being spread too thin didn’t stop there.

"Message from Lord Flauros. ...The dungeon’s location has been discovered by adventurers."

Agni, formerly Flauros, now Flare Pantera, resurrected balls and all after dying once, was passing along a report on behalf of Tentacle Drasil, the current Flauros.

"How’d it get found?"

"There was an earthquake on our end recently. The tremors blew open the entrance we’d kept hidden, and adventurers found it. They’re still small fry, so Lord Flauros has them strung up from the ceiling for now."

"Good. Make sure the Ras conversion work doesn’t fall behind. And... I’ll be sending Vivian’s Dullahan unit your way. All Flare Panteras, rally here."

I shuffled around some of the unit placements to make defense easier. The units our dungeon’s basement 1 needed right now, more than anything, were the Flare Panteras.

"Agni. It’s finally your crew’s time to shine."

I pointed to the hole that was still being worked on in the floor.

"Make this entire floor warm."

After all, you can’t greet guests in a cold room. That’s just bad manners for a host.

"We’ll make it feel like a proper hellhole the second they walk in. Heh heh heh."

I’ll give them a nice hot welcome.

***

"Hah—hah!"

Furcas, captain of the Pale Rider unit, made it to the forward position set up right in front of the portal and collapsed from sheer exhaustion the moment he arrived. Furcas, built on a skeleton warrior base, didn’t get tired himself; but the corpse horse, which had run for its life on top of already being injured, was completely spent.

The two of them were one body, sharing a fate: if one died, both were finished. The enemy had figured that out with scary precision and kept going after the corpse horse, which felt pain far more acutely.

"These crazy bastards."

Furcas wheezed and checked on the survivors trailing in behind him. Every single one of them was in worse shape than him, or at best the same. Their robes had all burned off, leaving the bare skeletal warrior frames fully exposed. His own robe was half-gone too, with his bony legs sticking out plain as day.

"...It’s a loss. Damn it. Wait for the next wave. Understood?"

"Yes, sir..."

The expressions on his unit’s faces looking back at him were not great. Furcas blew up at them.

"Lord Halphas will resurrect us anyway!"

"Yes, sir..."

Morale had hit rock bottom. He was racking his brain for some way to fix it when he suddenly had a gut feeling that something was off about the dungeon’s atmosphere.

"...What is this?"

The dungeon was starting, ever so slowly, to heat up.

***

"Master, what is this?"

"Ah—this is called hypocaust."