The journey to the Dragon's Tooth Peaks was… an experience. Shadow Garden, accustomed to swift, silent, and efficient travel, found their usual methods thoroughly disrupted by the inclusion of Saitama, Genos, and their ever-expanding menagerie (Mr. Fluffles now sported a tiny explorer's hat, Sooty the kitten had a miniature canteen, the one-legged raven had learned to squawk "Are we there yet?" with alarming frequency, and the badger, now named "Sir Reginald Fuzzybottom" by Saitama, mostly just slept in a makeshift sling Genos had fashioned).
Shadow had initially envisioned a stealthy, nocturnal approach, navigating treacherous mountain passes under the cover of darkness. Saitama, however, had different ideas.
"Why are we whispering?" he'd asked loudly on the first night, as Alpha was meticulously scouting a narrow, cliffside trail. "It's spooky out here. And I can't see where I'm putting my feet. Pretty sure I just stepped on something squishy. Hope it wasn't Sir Reginald." (It had been a very large, very surprised, and now very flat, giant centipede).
Genos, ever helpful, had then activated his high-intensity searchlights, illuminating the entire mountainside like a stadium, effectively announcing their presence to anything with eyes (or photosensitive arcane senses) within a fifty-mile radius.
Shadow had simply closed his eyes, counted to ten (in Ancient Demonic, for extra dramatic effect), and then calmly (or so he hoped it appeared) ordered a "strategic daylight advance" to "better assess the terrain and potential ambush points." My life is a farce, Cid had thought, his eyebrow twitching beneath his hood. A beautifully lit, well-signposted farce.
Despite the… unconventionalities… of their travel methods, they made surprisingly good time. This was mostly due to Saitama, who, when faced with obstacles like impassable ravines or sheer cliff faces, would simply mutter something about "taking a shortcut," then jump across, carrying the entire party (and their increasingly bewildered animal companions) in a series of breathtaking, gravity-defying leaps. Shadow Garden, masters of stealth and agility, found themselves clinging on for dear life, their carefully honed skills rendered utterly irrelevant by a man who treated mountains like inconveniently placed speed bumps.
During their rest stops, Seraphina, their reluctant Night Blade recruit, would share more tales of Crimson Count Valerius. Her voice, usually cold and precise, would take on a hushed, fearful tone when speaking of him.
"Valerius is… ancient," she'd explained, her gaze distant. "Older than the Cult itself, some say. He commands not just ghouls and werewolves, but things… older. Things that whisper from forgotten tombs, things that hunger for more than just flesh. His castle, 'Castle Maleficus,' is said to be built upon a nexus of dark energy, a place where the veil between worlds is perpetually thin."
Saitama, listening while trying to teach Sooty to fetch a pebble, would occasionally interject. "So, he's like, a really old dude with a spooky house and lots of weird pets? Sounds like my Uncle Herbert, except Uncle Herbert mostly collected porcelain dolls and talked to his garden gnomes. Still pretty creepy, though."
Seraphina would just stare at him, her expression a mixture of disbelief and a strange, dawning weariness. Trying to explain the existential horror of a being like Count Valerius to someone whose primary frame of reference was a creepy uncle with a gnome fetish was… an exercise in futility.
Alpha, however, pressed for tactical details. "His weaknesses? His attack patterns? The layout of his fortress?"
"Weaknesses?" Seraphina scoffed, a bitter smile touching her lips. "Valerius considers himself beyond such trivialities. He revels in his power, in his immortality. He is arrogant, cruel, and utterly convinced of his own invincibility." She paused. "As for his fortress… it is a labyrinth. Traps, illusions, endless corridors that shift and change. And his personal guard… the 'Sanguine Knights'… they are not mere vampires. They are warriors of terrible skill, each one a centuries-old predator."
Shadow listened intently, a predatory gleam in his own hidden eyes. Arrogant, cruel, convinced of his own invincibility. Perfect. The greater the pride, the more satisfying the fall. And a labyrinthine fortress filled with elite vampire knights? An excellent proving ground for Shadow Garden's true capabilities… assuming Saitama doesn't accidentally find a 'shortcut' through the main throne room by punching a hole in the foundation because he got lost looking for the bathroom.
As they drew closer to the Dragon's Tooth Peaks, the landscape became increasingly desolate and menacing. The very air grew cold, carrying the scent of old stone and something else… something metallic and faintly sweet, like spilled blood. The sky was a perpetual, bruised twilight, even at midday. Strange, mournful howls echoed from the jagged peaks, and shadows seemed to writhe in the corners of their vision.
Even Saitama seemed to notice the change. "Huh. This place is even gloomier than that robot guy's art gallery. And it smells kinda funky. Like a gym sock that's been left in a coffin." Mr. Fluffles, on his head, actually shivered.
It was during one of their final rest stops, in a sheltered, rocky overhang overlooking the mist-choked valley that led to Valerius's domain, that Genos made a crucial discovery. He had been meticulously scanning the local flora, hoping to find edible (and non-poisonous) plants, when he stumbled upon a small, almost hidden patch of vibrant, crimson-red peppers growing defiantly amidst the desolate rocks.
"Sensei!" Genos exclaimed, his optical sensors flashing. "I believe I have located a wild variant of the Capsicum maledictum, colloquially known as the 'Demon-Pepper'! Its heat signature and biochemical composition are… extraordinarily potent! This could be the primary ingredient for the 'Shadowfire Demon-Pepper Relish' you seek!"
Saitama's eyes, which had been glazed over with boredom, suddenly snapped into sharp focus. He rushed over, nearly tripping over Sir Reginald Fuzzybottom in his haste. "No way! Seriously? Demon-Peppers? Right here?" He peered at the small, unassuming plant with an intensity usually reserved for end-of-level bosses.
He carefully plucked one of the crimson peppers, sniffed it (and immediately recoiled, his eyes watering), then, with a look of grim determination, popped the entire thing into his mouth.
Shadow Garden watched, transfixed. They had witnessed Saitama withstand cosmic horrors, reality-bending clowns, and soul-severing blades without flinching. Surely, a mere pepper, however potent, would be…
Saitama's face turned a shade of red that would have made Count Valerius himself envious. His eyes bulged. Smoke, actual smoke, began to trickle from his ears. He let out a strangled gasp, then a series of coughs that sounded like a dragon clearing its throat. He fanned his mouth frantically, his usual bored expression replaced by one of pure, unadulterated, five-alarm agony.
"HOO! HA! HOT! HOT! HOT! WATER! GENOS! WATER! MY TONGUE IS ON FIRE! MY ANCESTORS AREN'T JUST CRYING, THEY'RE DOING THE FLAMENCO ON MY TASTE BUDS!"
Genos, with surprising alacrity, produced a waterskin and practically hosed Saitama down. After several long, sputtering gulps, Saitama's complexion slowly returned to its normal, pasty hue, though his eyes remained wide and watery.
"Whoa," he gasped, wiping his mouth. "Okay… Tank-Top Tiger was not kidding. That… that was intense." He then grinned, a slightly manic, masochistic grin. "But… it was also… kinda awesome! That's definitely the stuff! We gotta find that Umbraglen village and get the full recipe! This relish is gonna be legendary!"
Shadow, who had been observing this display with a mixture of morbid curiosity and dawning horror, felt a familiar sense of impending doom. Saitama, now armed with the knowledge that his mythical super-spicy condiment was real and within reach, was going to be even more single-mindedly focused on his culinary quest. Any subtlety, any carefully laid plans for infiltrating Valerius's fortress, were likely to be bulldozed by a man on a mission for the perfect jerky accompaniment.
"Saitama-dono," Shadow began, trying to steer the runaway train of Saitama's enthusiasm back onto some semblance of a mission track, "while your… gastronomic discoveries… are… noteworthy… let us not forget the primary objective. Count Valerius. The creatures of the night. The potential enslavement and/or exsanguination of an entire region."
Saitama, still panting slightly, looked at him. "Yeah, yeah, spooky vampire guy. Got it. But if this Umbraglen village is, like, right there," he gestured towards the mist-choked valley, "we could just pop in, grab the relish recipe, maybe fight a few monsters on the way, and then deal with the Count, right? Efficiency!"
Alpha sighed, a sound that perfectly encapsulated the collective exasperation of Shadow Garden. "Saitama-sama, Umbraglen lies deep within Valerius's territory. It is likely under his direct control, or at the very least, heavily oppressed. 'Popping in' will not be a simple matter."
"And the 'Shadowfire Demon-Pepper Relish'?" Beta interjected, her pen poised, "Is it possible this condiment is merely a local legend, or perhaps a… culinary trap… designed to lure unsuspecting gourmands to their doom?"
Saitama just looked thoughtful. "A culinary trap, huh? That'd be a pretty weird way to go. 'Here lies Saitama. He sought spicy, found pointy teeth.' Nah. Sounds too cool. My death will probably be way lamer. Like tripping over Mr. Fluffles and falling down a flight of stairs."
The image of Saitama, the being who could survive planetary annihilation, meeting his end via a fluffy bunny and a poorly placed staircase, was so absurd that even Seraphina cracked a small, hesitant smile.
Shadow, however, saw the writing on the wall. Or rather, the chili pepper stain on Saitama's chin. Their carefully planned infiltration of Castle Maleficus was about to become a side quest in "Saitama's Great Relish Robbery."
"Very well, Saitama-dono," Shadow said, his voice heavy with a resignation that was becoming his default state. "It seems our paths… and our appetites… are inexplicably intertwined. We will proceed towards Umbraglen. But be warned. This is not a mere culinary expedition. The shadows in this valley are deep, and the teeth are very, very real."
Saitama just grinned, his earlier discomfort forgotten, replaced by the gleam of a man who had found his true calling (for the next five minutes, at least). "Awesome! Adventure and spicy food! This is gonna be way better than fighting that boring puppet guy!" He then looked at the remaining Demon-Peppers on the bush with a newfound respect. "Genos, grab a few more of these. For, uh… research."
Genos dutifully began to harvest the peppers, handling them with the caution one might afford unstable explosives.
As Shadow Garden prepared to descend into the mist-choked valley of Umbraglen, the domain of Crimson Count Valerius, Cid Kagenou found himself pondering the strange, unpredictable currents of fate. He had come to this world seeking to become the ultimate Eminence in Shadow, a master of dark plots and dramatic confrontations.
Instead, he was about to lead an assault on a vampire lord's fortress, not for justice, not for vengeance, but because his inexplicably overpowered, bald companion had a craving for a really, really spicy dipping sauce.
The thrill was still there, buried deep, but it was now accompanied by a profound, almost spiritual, understanding of the phrase: "Be careful what you wish for." He had wished for a grand stage. He had gotten a cosmic comedy club, and Saitama was the headliner. And the punchlines, Cid suspected, were only going to get more painful. For him, at least.