After one more day of resting, Naomi begins a hectic time. She needed to supervise all adventurers who reached the tenth floor and wanted to dive. Despite a lot of work, she was genuinely happy. After every dive, seeing people laugh or look absent-minded as they tried to understand what they had seen assured her that this was the right choice. People, on the other hand, were shocked by her behavior. They know her as a caring person, but someone of her station shouldn’t work as a simple helper. But the most surprising was what happened the second week after finishing the tenth floor. The team of paladins arrived there, and Grand Priest Jathur accompanied them.

  “Welcome!” Naomi smiled. To show how it should be dressed and not waste time, she was already wearing her diving suit, and her helmet was placed on a bench. “Please enter and change your armor. After you are all ready, call me, and I will help with helmets.”

  While knights moved into the changing room, the Grand Priest didn’t move. He was looking at Naomi’s helmet instead. Minotaurs don’t use full plate helmets. Instead, they use simple items that cover the top of the head and neck. Nobles ordered custom-made full plate armour, but it could be used only by one person, and helmets were assembled from parts and were complicated to wear.

  “What happened, Grand Priest? Please come in.” Naomi asked, concerned.

  “I’m afraid I won’t fit in this diving suit, Dungeon Mistress. The helmet will be problematic.”

  “I know,” Naomi answered. “That’s why I prepared a custom one for you, Grand Priest. Please enter. I can’t wait to learn your opinion about it.” She answered and propted him to enter.

  Inside, on the separate rack, there was indeed a much different diving suit. The body part was the same as any other, but the helmet was indeed custom-made. After all was dressed, Naomi entered and started helping with crests and helmets. It went fast for other knights. She just showed one of them how to do it, and the rest followed.

  “Ok, Grand Priest, now I will help you.”

  “I appreciate your help, Dungeon Mistress.” He answered, waiting for what would happen next.

  “So your helmet is a little more complicated. Regrettably, in my world, there are only humans, so I needed to figure everything out from scratch. However, I’m sure it works. I only don’t know how comfortable it will be, so I’m waiting for your honest opinion, Grand Priest.”

  “Understood.” He answered, overwhelmed by the enthusiasm of the Dungeon Mistress.

  Because his horned helmet can’t be made in one piece and put on like any other helmet, Nomi instead divides it into the front and back parts. On the front was a third elongated part made from thick glass protected by a metal rod at the front and the bottom.

  “First, the front part. Place it on your shoulders and then move it to the back until it touches your horns. Like you see, there is padding inside, so they shouldn’t be damaged.” The minotaur did that.

  “How is the fitting?”

  “It’s very decent.”

  “Great. Now I'll put on the back of the helmet and secure it. Please hold the front still.”

  After some work and screwing a few screws, the helmet was almost done. It lacks only the frontal part.

  “How does it feel? Especially your horns.”

  “It fits well. A little stiff, I can’t move my head, but there is no pain.”

  “For now, I don’t have a way around it. Your helmet will end up overcomplicated, and actually, the others also need to turn their bodies to look to the side. Anyway, Grand Priest, are we continuing, or do you resign?”

  “Please continue, Dungeon Mistress.” He said. The helmet does fit perfectly, and to quit now would be to reject her effort and work, and that would be disrespectful.

  Naomi immediately finished checking all the screws on his helmet and the others. After the final check, she brought them on the tour.

  After returning, the Grand Priest kneeled before Naomi.

  “Dungeon Mistress, thank you for your kindness and for allowing me to see the wonders of the gods.”

  “Huh, what?” Naomi was surprised. People thanked her, laughed happily, but did not kneel. “Please rise, Grand Priest. I didn’t do anything special.”

  “Making armor for any minotaur is always a challenging task, especially the helmet. And you, Dungeon Mistress, said that no one had done anything like that before with your diving suit. Yet you did that. And we both know that this helmet won’t fit anyone else but me.”

  “Grand Priest, you are overthinking the whole situation. I did this place for everyone, and if that means some extra work from me, so be it. If this proves too difficult for me, I'll build something simpler next time. For now, it’s a great challenge for me. Building new things is great, but making something unseen or unheard of is a different story. It’s something that makes me so excited and happy.”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  All palladins, the Grand Priest included, came to the same conclusion. Once again, Dungeon Mistress tries to hide her kindness. They saw that she told them the truth about her desire to push the limits of her craft. They also noticed that she was well aware she would need to do that, and she decided to do it anyway, instead of choosing an easier way.

  The news spread fast, especially among the best men. No one prosecuted or alienated them. Sometimes they were even sought because of some natural talent they possess. However, their bodies were much different from those of elves, dwarves, or humans. Horns, hooves, or tails instead of legs, to name just some of the more obvious ones. Normally, no one paid attention to them. But in situations like the one with the diving suit, the differences were apparent. And, Dungeon Mistress just shrugged and made equipment fitting one of them, and called it nothing special.

  “Dungeon Mistress, may I have a question?” The Lady Itylara asked after her dive. The sun elves turned the hunting ground into another training opportunity. Paladins were planning the same thing. The water and diving suit hindered moves, and this was a rare opportunity. When Naomi heard this, she simply sighed. Then immediately smiled and was muttering something about battalmaniacs.

  “Yes?” She asked.

  “I observed that you stopped your training with swordfighting. I want to offer the sun elf help with further improving your fighting skills, as a token of gratitude.”

  “Thank you, but I need to refuse. Paoli is my teacher of swordfighting. And, it will be a waste of time for your teacher. I will never be as good as a true warrior, not to mention a sun elf warrior.”

  “You are selling yourself short, Dungeon Mistress. And ability to defend yourself or others is important.”

  “I know. I can’t over-rely on my golems.” Naomi sighted. “Lady Itylara, I will discuss this topic with Paoli. I agree that neglecting my training is not a good idea. I consider Paoli a friend despite our social standing. I don’t want to hurt her feelings. That I'm throwing her away because something more interesting shows up.”

  “Understood, Dungeon Mistress. I will be waiting for your answer.” The Lady Itylara slightly bowed, pleased with what she heard. She knows already the answer of the female adventurer. But Dungeon Mistress' consideration of her feelings was a sign of great integrity.

  The next day, Naomi went to ask Paoli about the topic discussed with Lady Itylara. She found her in an unexpected place. A few days ago, another desert tribe made a camp in her oasis. Because she was busy, she did not welcome them personally. But now she was taken to the chief's tent, because that was where Paoli was staying.

  “Dungeon Mistress, please rescue me.” She cried, surrounded by a few women of various ages and mostly desert fox beastkin like her.

  “Rescue?” Naomi asked, surprised.

  “Dungeon Mistress?” The oldest woman, in chief's clothes, asked.

  “Oh, right. I forgot my manners.” Naomi reflected on herself. “Welcome to On Taram Dungeon Oasis. I’m Dungeon Mistress, and this is my path. Sorry for the late welcome, but I was busy on the tenth floor.”

  All froze, shocked by her display. Paoli wanted to seize the moment and slip away, but was stopped by the muscular warrior.

  “Thank you for your welcome, Dungeon Mistress. I’m chief of this tribe, and this is my path.”

  The rest of the gathered immediately followed her.

  “Nice to meet you all. Can I know what is happening?”

  “Of course, Dungeon Mistress. Paoli is our daughter.” The chef pointed at the warrior.

  “And she ran away from home a few years ago.” Added her father.

  “And now we found her married and waiting for her first child.”

  “Don’t tell me her hand was promised to someone,” Naomi asked.

  “No, she just ran away without a word, and don’t invite us to her wedding. We barely managed to arrive here on time to be with her when her child, for the first time, will see the desert.” The chef explained.

  “And she chose a fine man anyway.” Her father added.

  “Paoli, how could you not send any message to your parents?” Naomi was disappointed.

  “It’s not easy. It’s a Great Desert.” Paoli sits on the floor, hanging her head.

  “But it can be done. How do you think we know we need to come here?” Paoli’s mother answered.

  “I’m sorry, Paoli, but no rescue for you,” Naomi answered.

  “Dungeon Mistress, please. Can’t you do me a favor for all the things I teach you?” Paoli whined.

  “Not against your family's will. Especially after seeing how they care for you.”

  “Teaching? Dungeon Mistress, can I know what she was teaching you?” Her father asked.

  “She showed me swordsmanship. And I came here to talk with her about it.”

  “Dungeon Mistress, can you show me what my good-for-nothing daughter taught you? My tarnished name is a small thing in comparison to the mistake in her teaching. She never acquired rights to teach anyone.” Her father showed concern.

  “She doesn’t teach me anything special. I’m not a warrior. I follow the path of artisans. I learned swordsmanship because it’s a useful skill, but I don’t think I will ever be in a situation where I need to use it. Well, I hope anyway.” Naomi answered.

  “Dungeon Mistress, I know that I’m overstepping my rights, but it’s important to me.” He bowed.

  “And that is exactly why I run away, Dungeon Mistress. It’s no use, my father will be kneeling until you agree, so better kick his ass.”

  “Paoli, this is your father. And secondly, I can’t beat you. So how did I beat someone who taught you everything?”

  “Fair point, so make him sweet, or just agree, because he won’t stand up any other way.”

  “Batalmaniacs, both of you,” Naomi murmured. “I agree. But just basic stuff. I only had the opportunity to fight Paoli a few times. And Paoli, don’t run away anywhere. I need to ask you something important.” Paoli sighted and sat resigned, because she was counting on commotion to sneak away.

  The short test of basic skills takes half an hour. The chief observed the surroundings with concern, watching guards' reaction to a fight between Dungeon Mistress and her husband. To her surprise, they not only don’t do anything, but ignore them completely. She looked at her daughter.

  “Why is no one doing anything?”

  “It’s normal here.” She shrugged. “People saw me training with Dungeon Mistress, and crazy things are happening here all the time. Oh, and mom, we are in the dungeon right now if you forget.”

  The last part sent shivers down her spine. Law of hospitality. No wonder no one reacted.