This Inevitable Ruin (Dungeon Crawler Carl #7)

by Matt Dinniman

But isn’t the name of the class absolute perfection? It’s downright terrifying, and I love it.” “Deathbed Hellcat,” I said. “Wow.” “I just love this for me right now.” “That’s pretty badass, all right,” I said.

Mordecai. Human. Level 50. Manager of Princess Donut. This is a non-combatant NPC. This is a human. This one is something called a Canadian. Part French. Part maple syrup. He’s weirdly obsessed with ice hockey and snowmobiles and semi-erotic lumberjack fan fiction. Has a well-worn Tim Hortons loyalty card in his Velcro wallet. He says “aboot” instead of “about” and gets really, really upset when you point it out, claiming you’re hearing things and that it’s a harmful stereotype. It’s not a stereotype, and that’s exactly how it sounds. He has a relative who was trampled to death by a moose. You get the idea.

“Yes, Carl,” the potion bottle said, his voice deep and demonic. “Drink me. Drink me deep. Put me inside of you.” “What the shit?” I asked as Donut hissed. “That’s how you know it’s a good potion,” Mordecai said, grinning.

“Guys,” he said, looking back and forth between me and Donut, suddenly serious. “You two have always been powerful, especially for your levels. But... wow. You two are both some seriously scary bastards now. Like really scary. You are now both the most powerful crawlers I have ever worked with, including some who made it through floor 11.” “Good,” I said, “because we have eight whole armies to kill.”

“You were number one for like five minutes.” “I was number one for the entirety of the seventh floor, thank you very much.”

Someone’s name can have a direct effect on the path they take in life. For example, have you ever met someone named Lacey who wasn’t a complete trainwreck? Or a boy named Jason who didn’t think he was always the main character?

The little girl gave me a chilling smile. “I shouldn’t have to think about killing outworlders? Why shouldn’t I? Have they stopped thinking about trying to kill me?”

The Inevitable Ruin. That’s what their queen used to call this moment. The moment you realized there was no hope, nothing left to do, and all that was left was to die and reflect upon what you’ve already done while you waited. To ruminate on how you’ve helped the colony, and to beg forgiveness of God for not sacrificing enough.

Cascadia appeared at the head of the table, right next to Juice Box. Ferdinand yelped and hissed as water splashed over the table. I felt the splash. She was really here, in this room with us. That was interesting. She looked at me and said, “I just can’t wait to see how you make everything worse today.”

“Here, here!” shouted Ferdinand. “I don’t know what the hell anyone is talking about, but I agree with Carl!”

Donut looked Vinata up and down, and for the first time, addressed the naga princess directly. “Oh, honey. And I thought I was going to be the one who killed you.” She licked her paw and groomed herself for a short moment. “In the eternal words of my mulleted friend, Holger. You done stuck your pecker in the wrong beehive.”

“Well, I have a poem for you, my mantis friend. It’s based on the style of a popular Earth poem.” “I am not a mantis. But that is of interest to me. I have been reading of those as well and have been attempting different kinds. Is it a haiku? A sonnet? A limerick?” Boomer grinned at him over the display. “Roses are red. Violets are blue. We won Faction Wars. Now we get to kill more of them.”