Chapter 4: Saving One’s Companions
Even Diablo, who made the dungeon, didn’t know where the river that flowed across the level would lead. All he did was configure a ?Waterway? into the dungeon’s scenery; where the water came from or where it went weren’t questions he would concern himself with.
He wouldn’t be surprised if the stream was actually conjured by magic, and disappeared at the edge of the cave.
But the canal’s water was real, and the water had flowed all the way to the edge of the level.
—A waterfall!?
He fell along with the water, a fall so high he doubted he would survive if there were rocks beneath them. If they got separated again, he would probably never find Horn again.
With that in mind, Diablo cradled the little Grasswalker in his arms. There was no time to put Tenma’s Staff in his pouch, so he let go of it, relinquishing it to the gushing stream.
Then, all sense of balance abandoned Diablo. He rotated and spun in the water, unable to distinguish if he was facing up or down.
—I’m gonna drown!
Anxiety and panic threatened to overcome his mind, but his Underwater Action skill kicked in with full effect. Steadying his breathing, he regained his center of gravity. Still holding Horn in his arms, Diablo kicked against the water, swimming back up to the surface.
“Aaah!” he gasped as his head broke the surface.
They were in the waterfall’s plunge basin. Located in the depths of the spacious cavern, it was roughly the shape of a flask, giving Diablo the impression he was submerged in the water at the bottom of a cup or a bowl.
The stream had grown calmer here.
Putting his Underwater Action skill into effect once more, he swam to the edge of the basin, putting Horn over the rocks before climbing out himself.
“Horn, do you still live?”
Horn, lying on the dry rocks, gave no response. He had probably vomited along the way, because water was leaking from his mouth.
“Horn, answer me!” Diablo called out again.
He tried to feign calmness, but could feel his pulse hastening by the second. A bad feeling was grabbing hold of his heart. He placed a hand over Horn’s small lips—and could feel breathing.
“Alive... You’re alive!”
But he was still unconscious.
—What about his pulse?
He checked Horn’s wrist, but was too panicked to really tell. After a few more attempts, he confirmed Horn still had a pulse.
—His heart’s still working! He’s alive!
Horn was a level 20 adventurer and, holding true to that title, was a durable fighter. Being a lightweight Grasswalker also served to save his life. It appeared he merely passed out from the shock for now.
“Oh, thank God...”
Relief washed over Diablo. With Horn out cold, and there being no one else around, Diablo had spoken in his natural voice. He also found himself laughing out of relief.
He then went on to inspect Horn’s shoulder, which had been stabbed by Gewalt.
“Hmm... He’s still bleeding, but the wound is shallow. I think it’ll close on its own if I leave him as is.”
Having an HP Potion would be handy right about now, but Diablo had to use them all before entering the dungeon. Diablo’s Distorted Crown had an HP regenerating effect, but could only be equipped by level 140 or higher characters, so he couldn’t lend it to Horn.
Suddenly, he sneezed.
“Crap, it’s so cold... This is bad... I’m fine because I have the ?Curtain of Dark Clouds?, but...”
His cloak protected him from all status ailments, so Diablo wouldn’t even catch a cold from this. But Horn would be at risk like this.
Something he had read once on the internet came to mind:
—When a human’s rectal temperature drops below 35 degrees Celsius, they go into hypothermia, and staying in that state for too long can be lethal. Going to sleep in the summer wearing damp clothes can lower your body temperature to the risk of death, too.
“Right, I’m gonna have to tend to his wound, so I may as well take his clothes off... Gotta light a fire, too. Is there anything I can burn...?”
Looking around, all he could see were rocks, rocks and even more rocks. Some luminous moss was growing on these rocks where the water had come in contact with them. Thanks to that, it wasn’t dark, but they wouldn’t burn and couldn’t help him in starting a fire. He could produce fire with his magic, but without anything flammable to fuel it, it wouldn’t last.
Ever since his group entered the dungeon, he’d been spending more and more MP. There was hardly any time for breaks, and he was in dire need of recovery. He felt that if he let his focus waver even a bit, he’d fall asleep next to Horn.
—Damn, all my motivation’s gone...
Everything felt like a huge, tiresome slog.
“Ah, maybe I can just take a little nap...”
But if Diablo didn’t act now, Horn would die right before his eyes.
“No, hell no! I’m not letting that happen! I may be a shitty person, but...I can’t just let him die...”
He sighed despondently, trying to find something he could use as fuel.
“Damn it... Guess this is all I have.”
Diablo took off his Curtain of Dark Clouds. This had kept him safe from status ailments and protected him from dying in one hit; an SSR-class item, enhanced to the highest level. A player could enhance a piece of equipment up to seven levels, and an item that was enhanced so many times was considered “EX Rank,” or a “Sevenfold.” Diablo held such an item in his very hands.
“Not gonna lie...I was pretty attached to you... No way around it, though...”
As precious as it was to him, it wasn’t worth more than someone’s life.
“?Fire?,” Diablo whispered softly.
Naturally, once he had taken it off, the equipment would no longer grant Diablo its enchanted effects. As it was right now, the Curtain of Dark Clouds was nothing more than a wet cloak.
Scorched by magical flames, the dry parts of the cloak caught fire.
“Aaah... It’s warm.”
He then took off his outfit, the ?Ebony Abyss?. Keeping these wet clothes on put him at risk of hypothermia, and the cloak alone wasn’t enough to sufficiently stoke the fire.
The Ebony Abyss had a damage reduction effect, and had increased many of his base stats.
He did keep his pants on, though. Being butt naked when he regrouped with Rem and the others sounded like a bad idea. It definitely wouldn’t fit well with his Demon Lord role play.
“Right, still not enough... I’ll have to use your gear, too, OK, Horn?”
It was uncomfortable, having to take off someone else’s clothes.
“We’re both guys, so give me a break, all right?”
Imagining Horn’s protests after coming to made Diablo hesitate, but...he figured he’d rely on his Demon Lord role play to talk his way out of it, and began undressing Horn.
He started with Horn’s cape, a normal cloak with no enchantments to its name. It was pretty old and worn out, too. He hoped it didn’t carry too much sentimental value for Horn, but it shouldn’t be worth more than Horn’s own life... At least, he hoped so.
Diablo then removed the pouch belt on Horn’s waist, his bracers, then his greaves. Diablo couldn’t tell from the graphics in the game, but apparently on the other side there were pieces that acted as leather belts and a hook used to fasten them on. Rem had similar armor, and having seen her remove it once, Diablo had remembered how to take it off.
Diablo then began removing Horn’s wet clothes. His body wasn’t just lacking in muscle, there was an even a certain curvy roundness to his form.
“Man...you should work on your muscles, Horn. Even if you’re a Grasswalker, you’re still a Warrior-type, you know?”
After thoroughly wringing out his shirt, Diablo threw it into the fire.
He then pulled down Horn’s pants. He used the tights for fuel, but burning Horn’s pants and leaving Horn with nothing to wear felt all sorts of cruel, so for now he just left them out to dry. Leaving Horn naked in the cold wasn’t good, but was still better than Horn sleeping with cold clothes on.
“Wait...”
His gaze was drawn to Horn’s exposed abdomen. He made an effort not to look, but...
—Huh?
It wasn’t there.
“Mmm...?” A moan escaped Horn’s lips as he sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“Thank God, you’re alive!” is what Diablo couldn’t say, given...recent developments.
Horn was naked, with Diablo still gripping their pants in his hands. To top it off, what should have been part of Horn’s crotch wasn’t there... Which meant Horn wasn’t a “he” but a...
—Do Grasswalker males just not have them!?
Diablo had never heard of anything like that.
He stiffened, feeling a cold sweat run down his spine. Horn, who had still be in a haze until now, finally realized the condition she was in.
“Wha!? Wh-Wh-Wh-Wh-Whaaat...!?” Horn stammered, gradually going red in the face.
Diablo stood up, Horn’s pants still in his hands.
“Hmph! So you’ve finally come to your senses, you weakling!” he said in an overbearing, domineering fashion. “Display the utmost of gratitude to me, for your life has been saved by the Demon Lord Diablo’s pity! Make no mistake, for it was merely a whim on my part.”
“H-Huh!? What!?”
“The races are truly frail. If you were to sleep with these wet clothes on, you would surely die! That is why I am drying your clothes...like this!”
Diablo wrung Horn’s pants, making water drip from the fabric onto the floor. He then threw them into the fire. The cloth was old, but burned quite well.
—Oh, crap! I just went and did it now! I only wanted to take them off, not burn the damn things!
Stifling his inner turmoil, Diablo pressed on with his Demon Lord role play.
“Hmph! Surely you will not claim that your clothes are worth more than your life!?”
Overwhelmed by the situation, Horn fell silent, but eventually squeezed out a response.
“I-I won’t, say that... After all, staying alive is...important...”
“So long as you understand!”
—Did I really manage to talk my way out of it!?
“B-But ...I was just a little surprised...” Horn said, covering her extremely slender body with her arms.
—That makes two of us!
“Pay it no mind. I am a Demon Lord, after all. Such trifling details do not bother me.”
“Y... Yeah, that’s right. I bet it doesn’t matter to you if I’m a boy or a girl, Boss... Achoo!”
“Hm. It seems you are still cold. Come closer.”
Diablo sat next to the campfire. With the Curtain of Dark Clouds now gone, he could fall ill as well. He would have to be careful. He sacrificed his high rank equipment, not to mention Horn’s pants, to light this fire, so the least they could do was use it to keep warm.
“Hmm... Is that really all right...?” Horn went red up to her bunny ears.
“Do away with the modesty. Would I have dived into the river after you if I had no intent of saving you?”
“I-I guess not... Really, thank you... You saved me, Boss...”
Horn rose to her feet and drew closer. He figured she would sit away from him, so they would surround the campfire, but, instead, she squatted down, sitting right beside him.
—Huh?
He did tell her to “come closer” but never said to “come closer to the campfire.”
But, wouldn’t you normally sit next to the fire?
—If she’s so embarrassed, why is she snuggling up to me like this? A-And n-n-naked, no less...
It was Diablo that took her clothes off, and yet...
“Huddling together when it’s cold makes it more warm, doesn’t it, Boss? I used to do it all the time with my family...”
“I-Is that right?”
It seemed a bit wrong for a Demon Lord to lose his composure just because a Grasswalker, with a child’s physique, snuggled up to him.
—Wait, no. A Demon Lord wouldn’t lose his composure no matter who it was. I have to stay on top of my game...
Horn leaned against him. Her body was frigid against his skin.
“You’re still pretty cold, aren’t you?”
“Ah, was that not OK?” Horn tried to draw away, but Diablo grabbed and embraced her.
“Again, cease with the pointless modesty. If you catch cold, then I’d have started this campfire for nothing.”
—I had to burn two pieces of EX rank equipment for that, you know? And your pants, too...
Horn was small; her body was petite, even compared to other Grasswalkers, and she was soft, too, like a baby rabbit. She twisted in Diablo’s arms, as if she was being tickled.
“It’s so warm...”
“You would be in trouble if it wasn’t.”
“Hehe...”
She was nervous at first, but eventually entrusted her weight to Diablo. Her small, bare back had pressed against his skin, the heat slowly returning to her ice-cold body. Diablo also felt his own body warming up.
“Whew...”
—I guess we made it out alive, somehow...
Horn covered Diablo’s hands, which sat on her shoulders, with her own.
“Daddy...” she whispered softly.
“What, did you just...?” Diablo stiffened, barely squeezing those words out.
Realizing a moment too late what she had just said, Horn rose to her feet in a panic.
“Ah, no! That was—uhhh, hmm! That was—respect! It means I respect you, as an adventurer! So it’s not what you think!” she hurriedly stammered out.
“I-I understand! It’s fine, I understand, so stop wasting your precious energy on this!” Diablo laid his hands on her shoulders, calming her down.
“Uuu...” Horn curled up, once again red all the way up to her fluffy ears.
Diablo could feel Horn’s heart beating faster through her skin. He fell silent, concentrating on that rhythmic throbbing.
But really, he was also terribly flustered.
—D-D-Daddy!? When did I have time to get a kid!? No no no, she says it’s out of respect, as an adventurer...but would you call someone “daddy” out of that kind of respect!? No one’s ever called me that before! Did I do anything to make her trust me that much!? Maybe she just mistook me for someone else!
But Grasswalker males, even if they were fathers, had the physical appearance of children. There was no way she’d mistake Diablo for another Grasswalker, not with his physique.
—But maybe even Grasswalkers remembered their fathers’ hands to be large, from when they were babies? Or maybe she had some other meaning attached to the word “daddy”...? No, no way, that kind of culture doesn’t exist in this world...
He felt like his brain was simmering from all the thoughts jumbling up inside his head.
Both of their faces going red, the two fell silent. Time slowly ticked by...
†
Having warmed up their bodies, they eventually decided it was time to move. Relying on the air currents for guidance, they went deeper into the dungeon. Wind blowing through the cave meant it should be flowing out to an exit, so if nothing else, there shouldn’t be a dead end.
—I can’t believe I got stranded in my own dungeon...
Leaving the plunge pool behind, they found a hole leading further in. Diablo only had his pants on, as well as the pouch on his back. And while it probably wouldn’t be of much help, he had the ?Prototype Great Scythe? in hand.
The war scythe may have appeared strong and intimidating, but in practice it was terribly weak. It was the weapon he wielded when trying to hold back against an opponent.
Horn was practically naked, since all she had on her body were her pouch belt, bracers, and greaves. Being a Grasswalker, she had a childlike body regardless of her actual age, but... A girl with such a flat, curveless body, walking around with only scarce armor on, was definitely the sort of thing that only people of certain...inclinations, would find appealing. If only they still had her pants...
Wait, no, a girl would need a top, too.
A tall, half-naked man, walking around with a virtually naked pre-teen was the type of situation that would land him in a huge load of trouble.
—If I knew she was a girl in the first place, I wouldn’t have had the guts to burn her clothes...
“Why did you dress like a male?” Diablo asked, unable to hold back the question any longer.
“That’s, uhhh...” Horn twitched, her expression turning into a frightened one.
“You do not have to speak of it if you do not wish to.”
Did the way he said it seem aggravated? Horn seemed even more frightened.
“I, uhm... My family... We were born in a town in the former Demon Lord’s Domain, away from Zircon Tower... But we got split up from my parents when we were all really young.”
“Oh?”
Horn’s voice felt more natural, as if she wasn’t forcing her tone to be as masculine anymore.
“I think they may have abandoned us... But ever since I could remember, it was just my two little sisters and me.”
“I see.”
Just staying alive was difficult in the former Demon Lord’s Domain. Raising three children in that sort of environment was surely too laborious for Horn’s parents to handle.
“So I don’t know if my parents are dead or alive anymore... But we were lucky, because Teach picked us up soon after.”
“Teach... Your teacher, who taught you how to be a Seeker?”
“Yes. Teach was a Thief, though...”
“I see.”
When it came to detecting danger and disarming traps, Horn’s skills were fairly low for a Seeker. But her agility was decent, so in terms of parameters she was closer to a Thief.
“Last year, Teach passed away, and I was separated from my little sisters... So I ended up traveling to Zircon Tower alone.”
“Your sisters didn’t come with you?”
“No. A trader took them in as employees. He invited me, too, but I’m no good with that sort of work...”
“I know how you feel. Just the thought of negotiating with other people makes me want to challenge a dragon all on my own.”
“Huh...? No, selling cheap stuff for expensive prices just doesn’t sit well with me. I know that’s how business works, but still.”
“Hm... I see.”
Horn didn’t have any social anxiety, and, come to think of it, was really assertive when she invited Diablo and his party to the dungeon.
“Grasswalkers look like children no matter their age, but exactly how old are you?” Diablo asked, trying to change the conversation’s direction away from his odd comment.
“Ugh... Just...keep it a secret from everyone else, okay? You’re the only one I’ll tell, Boss... I’m actually twelve years old.”
—What!? She actually is a kid!? I thought she looked this young because she’s a Grasswalker!
“I thought as much,” Diablo said, hiding his surprise as if he had known all along.
“Hehe... So you knew, huh? But if people found out, no one would want to adventure with me. So keep it a secret, okay, Boss?” Horn said, poking her tongue out in a childish gesture.
It was adorable.
—Wait, no! I’m not a pedo!
A pedophile Demon Lord; would he ever be able to show his face in public? And he had just recently kissed Klem, who pretty much looked like a little girl, even if it was for the ?Enslavement Ritual?...
Diablo shook his head, banishing those thoughts from his mind.
“Nnn... It’s so dark.” Horn cast her gaze into the cave ahead.
“That’s no problem. ?Light?!”
Diablo cast the spell on a pebble he had picked up. Last time he cast it indoors, he found there was a problem: He had no idea how to turn it off, so he devised a new way of using it now. By casting the spell on a pebble, all he had to do was throw it away once he didn’t want the spell to work anymore. Carrying it like a lantern was also convenient and easy enough.
“Oooh, that’s amazing!” Horn’s eyes positively shone with excitement. “It’s the first time I’m going through a dungeon with an Elemental Sorcerer, but I never knew Elemental Magic could be so useful!”
“People in this world simply did not research it enough.”
“That’s true, not many Sorcerers use it. I’ve never seen an Elemental Sorcerer as strong as you, Boss. Makes me wish I could learn magic, too! Not that I’d be able to, hehe.”
Those words made Diablo think...
“I know not of how one goes about learning magic in this world, but...why don’t you try learning it? You’re still only twelve, and Grasswalkers are good when it comes to magic.”
“Whaaa!? N-No way. You have to go to one of the Mage’s Association schools to become a Sorcerer... I don’t have the money for that.”
“Is it expensive?”
“I don’t really know how much, but probably a few million friths?”
“Hmph...”
Despite having resolved quite a few large incidents, he and his group didn’t have that many friths to their names. Klem’s biscuit guzzling habits drove them near-bankrupt, to the extent that Edelgard, a Fallen, had to take up work at a bakery.
—If her cover gets blown, getting driven out of town would be the least of her troubles. I wonder how she’s doing...
Even if regional knights were to gang up on her, Edelgard would probably get out of it unscathed. But Faltra’s governor, Galford, was strong. By Diablo’s estimate, he would be stronger than her by a ratio of 6:4.
Diablo really hoped nothing bad had happened...
“I hope they’re all right...” Horn whispered.
“Agreed.”
“Lumachina and the others, I mean.”
“Oh, them.” Without noticing, he had whispered in his natural voice.
“Is there someone else to worry about...?” Horn tilted her head in confusion.
“No... It’s, hmm, because I’m a Demon Lord! Just forget about that, I’m sure there’s no need to worry about them.”
“D’you think they’re OK?”
The ceiling was gradually becoming lower. Diablo proceeded, minding not to bump his head.
He and Horn had gotten lost on the ninth floor. The whole group was nearly through before being interrupted, and Shera would have shot down anything coming their way. Shera and Rem had gotten to the next level, for sure.
Come to think of it, the Paladin had also fallen into the water...
“This level should have a large mid-boss monster near the end, but it has no debuff resistance. Shera could probably take it out with her petrification.”
“Shera’s amazing, isn’t she!”
While there was no doubting she was very skilled, her bow had been enchanted by a real Demon Lord.
“The tenth floor has a puzzle involving a moving floor. One misstep, and you are thrown into a room full of monsters.”
“Haaah!? Will they be all right!? That sounds so dangerous!”
“I’m sure Rem will solve it. She’s cautious and wise enough to stop and analyze any situation.”
“Whoa, you can really trust Rem, all right! She’s got smarts!”
“And the eleventh floor is a graveyard.”
“Uhm...graves? Why are there graves down there?”
“Because moving corpses come out of them.”
“Eee!!! Z-Zombies!? You mean zombies! The living dead are super scary!”
“Lumachina should be able to take care of them easily. She’s a High Priest, after all. No one in Lyferia can match her when it comes to ?Purification?.”
“Then it’ll be a piece of cake! Way to go, Lumachina!” Horn’s expression brightened up, her eyes shining with excitement once more.
“Yes.”
—So long as the Death Knell disease hasn’t worsened...
In-game, a patient’s condition wasn’t too severe until the ninth mark surfaced; it looked as if they had a bad cold, at best. But Cross Reverie had toned down some topics to avoid getting into imagery that was too erotic or violently graphic. Diablo had no way of knowing if the Death Knell disease behaved similarly in this world.
“But I’m still worried!” Horn held her head nervously. “I can’t believe you got separated from Rem and the others because of someone as useless as me!”
—She shouldn’t call herself useless... Not that I’m one to talk about self-esteem, though. I know exactly how she feels.
If he was to scold her, telling her not to look down on herself, it would only make her feel even more miserable. So Diablo chose to say nothing.
He didn’t regret saving Horn, even if it meant getting separated from them. They weren’t amateurs.
They called Diablo their “companion,” too. They’d relied on him, but at the same time, could take pride they weren’t “just reliant” on him. They would definitely be able to clear the way until the eleventh floor.
“But we must hurry and regroup with them. Beating the twelfth floor will be impossible for those three.”
“Huh? Why’s that?”
“Their levels are too low. It’s not a matter of strategy or compatibility... The last guardian in the twelfth level is simply too strong. Its debuff resistance is high so the petrification probably wouldn’t trigger, and it has a barrier that nullifies all damage below a certain threshold.”
“What kinda monster is that!?”
“We can’t take our time here.”
After walking a short distance, they could hear the sound of wind, its whistle rebounding across the cave. They could also see a light further ahead.
“Did we make it out, Boss?”
—That waterfall sent us falling a long distance from the ninth floor... There’s no way the tunnel leads outside, though, right?
Making their way out of the tunnel, they found themselves in a wide-open area.
“M-M-Mon...!?” Horn shivered in terror.
Several stag-beetle-like creatures, each bigger than a normal monster and bearing large horns, lay in wait. These monsters would move in packs and burrowed in the ground to make their nests.
They were large, black, insect-type monsters called ?Ant Beetles?, and there were roughly 30 of them.
Diablo could ascertain their numbers not due to a skill his in-game character had, but thanks to a special ability granted to him because of his experience as a player. He remembered these monsters.
If you were to take a wrong turn on the tenth level, you would get dropped into a colony of Ant Beetles, which was probably where Diablo and Horn were at the moment.
Diablo’s lips curved into a smile.
—I’ve got a grasp on where we are now... If we can make it through here, we’ll be back on the correct route.
Diablo put an hand on Horn’s shivering shoulders. “You should be pleased.”
“I-I mean, sure, I’m an adventurer, and if I had to pick, I’d rather die on an adventure, but not right now! I’ll die sooner or later, but not today!”
“That wasn’t what I meant. Behold, you despondent little fool.”
The Ant Beetles, noticing the intruders in their territory, turned their attention to Diablo and Horn. The part that should have served as their faces opened up, revealing rows of gigantic fangs. It was far more gruesome than anything Diablo had ever seen in the game.
Diablo turned his war scythe against the monsters.
“Crush them with the speed of sound: ?Sonic Boom?!”
†
The twelfth level—
“If you hold your life dear, turn back here.”
Reading the words written on the gate, Rem swallowed anxiously.
“...We’ve gone through floors with high-level monsters, but this is the first time a warning has been so direct. We need to steel our resolves for this, it seems.”
“Let’s go! We can’t turn back after coming this far!” Shera’s line of thinking was clear and simple; and like she said, now was no time to hesitate.
“...True. But we must make sure we’re prepared and proceed with caution.”
“I’ll support you with all my might.” Lumachina nodded. “Having you two worry about me any longer would be simply unbearable.”
“...Thank you for believing in us. We’ll definitely bring you to the lowest level. The item that can dispel the Death Knell disease will be down there...and I’m sure Diablo will come for us, too. Let’s go ahead and wait for them to meet us on the thirteenth floor.”
“Let’s.”
“We’ll do our best, Rem, Lumachina!”
The girls’ gazes intersected as they steeled their resolves.
Rem put her hands against the door and pushed. Air spilled from beyond, carrying a sour, acidic smell to it.
A large, wide cave welcomed them. The ceiling was higher than previous floors, and seemed to spread out beyond where the eye could see. They could also faintly make out...
—A blue sky...?
This was probably a huge, deep shaft going all the way up to the surface from these depths.
Could we have used the shaft to get down here faster?
But just as that thought came to mind, Rem realized there was surely a reason Diablo didn’t do so. The walls were smooth, as if they had been brushed and polished countless times. The floor was also the same; while it wasn’t exactly flat and level, it was smooth to the point where they couldn’t find any vegetation growing.
But there was no time for speculating as to the nature of this place.
Someone was ahead of them, and they had just defeated a monster.
A humanoid monster lay defeated on the ground. Rem had only ever seen it in books, but...in all likelihood, it looked to be a ?Death Dancer?. It was a skeleton with several pairs of arms, capable of cutting adventurers into ribbons with a special finishing move called ?Bloody Dance?. The books also had a strict warning: “Run away immediately if you run into this fearsome monster.”
That monster now lay defeated, reduced to a still, unmoving corpse. The one who defeated it was clad in azure armor.
“Oh dear, you were behind me?” He brushed up his long hair. “Silly me, I was so anxious to catch up I ended up getting ahead of you.”
His tone was feminine, but he was undoubtedly a man. Lumachina took a step back.
“Gewalt...”
“It’s been a while, Lumachina. Isn’t it about time you croaked already? I’ll send you to your beloved God’s side, so do us both a favor and don’t resist, m’kay?”
“You’re the Paladin who attacked us on the ninth floor.” Rem stepped in front of Lumachina. “I won’t let you lay a hand on her!”
“That’s right!” Shera called out, nocking an arrow to her bow.
“Heh heh heh... I’ve seen what you can do, Elf girl.” Gewalt brandished his sword with one hand. “A bow that can Petrify is pretty scary... Buuut it’s still no match for me.”
Gewalt tossed a crystal.
—A Summon!
Countless small, winged insects appeared before them: ?Fire Bees?. Though each one’s individual strength wasn’t high, they were the worst possible opponents Shera could face with her bow. Even if she were to try to fight the group as a whole, all she would shoot down would be a few insects.
The same held true for Rem’s Summons; she didn’t have anything in her arsenal capable of wide area attacks.
“Ugh... In that case, we have to defeat the Summoner! ?Asulau?!”
Rem threw a crystal as well. A three-horned ox appeared, but it alone would be no match for a Paladin. She knew that very well.
Saddler, a Paladin she had fought in the past, defeated it easily. Asulau’s abilities were equal to a level 40 Knight, but Paladins were approximately level 100. With just that, Rem couldn’t win.
Rem proceeded to summon more beasts to her aid. “?Rockpup? and ?Dragonfly?, come on out!”
Rockpup was a level 25 earth element wolf Summon. A bit generic, but its bite was powerful and it charged the opponent rapidly. Dragonfly, despite its impressive name, was nothing more than a giant dragonfly, a level 20 wind element Summon. It didn’t deal much damage in combat, but its swift flight made it an agile opponent.
Maintaining three Summons took a toll on Rem’s MP consumption, but paying that no heed, Rem wiped the sweat from her forehead and gave her orders.
“Go, my Summons! Now, Shera!”
“Right!”
The three Summons charged the Paladin. As they did, Shera, the true offensive force, took aim. Gewalt’s one sword wouldn’t be fast enough to deal with all four threats at once.
“Aaah, seeing weak girls becoming so desperate...” Gewalt’s lips, decorated with lipstick, distorted into an ecstatic smile. “I can never get enough of this feeling of superiority... Simply ir-re-sistible!”
He proceeded to summon again. Green vines appeared from the ground as blood-red roses bloomed in front of Gewalt, hiding him from sight. These deflected both Rem’s Summons and Shera’s arrow.
“Wha!?”
“What is this!?”
“Heh heh, this is my rare Summon, ?Rose Prison?,” Gewalt said flirtatiously, with a proud smile on his lips. “It can’t move, but your attacks will have no effect on it. I can just kick back here and watch while my Fire Bees make short work of you.”
On one hand, he had a summon that, while weak individually, moved as a swarm; on the other hand, he had an immobile summon that excelled in defense. Each one had its disadvantages, but when put together, they covered each other’s weaknesses.
—He’s so strong!
Rem clenched her teeth. They were both Summoners, but the difference in their abilities was night and day.
“Tell me, Paladin! If you’re this strong, why did you turn to such evil acts!?”
“Heh... Why, you’ve got it backwards. Why live honestly when I have all this power at my disposal? Your logic’s all messed up, sweetie. Buuut that’s enough chit-chat—time to die~”
The swarm of Fire Bees charged toward them. Rem braced herself, unable to come up with a means of defending.
But at that moment, a gust of wind had blown in their direction; a powerful gale of wind. The squall blew away the Bees, which turned back into a crystal that hit the ground.
“My Fire Bees!” Gewalt cried out in shock.
—Was that air magic? Could it be Diablo!?
But Rem’s hopes were immediately dashed. The source of that gust of wind, powerful enough to knock a person into the air, descended from above, its massive body blotting out the sunlight streaming from above. With its back to the sky, the light had cast an impressive, ominous shadow over itself.
“What...?” Shera, who had also looked up to the sky, whispered with her eyes wide open. “A...dragon?”
The magnificent creature’s scales were pitch black. From the top of its horned head to the tip of its solid, heavy tail, the dragon was probably 30 meters in size.
“A Large...Black Dragon...” Rem uttered through her trembling lips.
Among the species known as Dragons, there were some that were considered magical beasts, and some that were not. Black Dragons weren’t categorized as magical beasts, and left corpses behind when defeated. Creatures that didn’t fall into that category were generally classified as beasts, or monsters.
But there were many that fell under a third category, that was neither of the races nor the Fallen: Dragonkin. This was because they were capable of—
“Foolish Dram Ones yond disturb Our land, We shalt give equal and fair death unto thee!”
...telepathy.
This voice had echoed inside their heads. Dragons were incapable of speech, but could still communicate in one form. It was unknown how they learned it, but they were nonetheless able to employ human language.
“Wh-Wh-What are we going to do, Rem!?” Shera was trembling in terror.
As it turned out, the twelfth floor wasn’t the lair of a Death Dancer, but of a ?Large Black Dragon?.
“...Ugh. It’s like the sign said: If we held our lives dear, we should have turned away at the entrance. But...”
If they were to turn back now, they would never gain the treasure that could dispel the Death Knell disease.
“So we have no choice but to fight!?”
Gritting her teeth, Shera nocked her bow, and launched an arrow at the dragon. Her shot hit its mark, crashing against the dragon’s scales; but Petrification didn’t occur.
“Why...!?” Shera asked, her eyes wide with shock.
“Oooh... We feel the power of the Demon Lord from thy weapon, Dram One. Fascinating... But ’twill has’t nay effect ’gainst Us.”
“...In all likelihood, the magic energy Klem put into the bow isn’t enough to break through the dragon’s magic resistance by itself,” Rem said, wiping cold sweat from her brow.
A dragon’s strength is decided by its size, with a Large-class dragon likely serving as the Dragon King of these parts. The amount of magic Klem granted for the sake of self-defense simply wasn’t enough in this situation.
The dragon landed from the sky, resting on the ground lightly.
“If ’t be true thou art to intermit, Dram Ones, show Us the extent of thy power! Till despair overtakes all, and fain shall thee accept death!”
“This can’t be real!” the Paladin bellowed from the center of the cave.
Having called back Rose Prison, Gewalt scurried away, trying to flee the dragon, eventually finding refuge by cowering against the wall.
“P-Please wait—don’t! I’ll leave right away! I never had any interest in this dungeon in the first place! I just wanted to get rid of those bitches over there!”
The dragon’s massive eyes looked down on the Paladin.
“If ’t be true thou shall not intermit... We shalt end thee swiftly with this!”
Rem recalled the description from the books she’d read: “Black Dragons can make use of an Acid Breath attack to spray their opponents with acid. It is said to be powerful enough to melt sword, armor, and human flesh alike.”
“Tch! Don’t think you’re better than me, you shitty lizard! I’ll turn you into Dragon steak with this! Come forth, ?Ifrit?!” The Paladin threw another crystal on the ground.
Rem couldn’t hold back her shock. She’d heard of it through rumors, but it was the first time she had ever seen this high level Summon. While Gewalt was still as loathsome as ever, his strength was undoubtedly close to the limits of what the races could ever hope to achieve.
The rainbow-colored crystal shattered and a pillar of flames burst forth, extending up to the heavens. Rem felt as if the heat wave was going to blow her away as a scarlet fiend of flames appeared; it was like lava had been given human shape.
In terms of height, Ifrit stood head-to-toe with the dragon, the ground melting beneath its feet.
“Agh... I can’t believe...he had this up his sleeve the whole time!” Rem covered her face with her hand, trying to shield herself from the heat.
Had he summoned Ifrit from the beginning, Rem and the others would have been killed before they knew it. So why didn’t he use it?
Why, for a very simple reason. Gewalt gripped his chest, wheezing heavily. Even for a skilled summoner like him, maintaining a summon of Ifrit’s strength took a massive toll on his MP.
“Whoaaa... Who should we even cheer for here, Rem?” Shera looked at the two monsters, suspense and horror weighing down on her heart.
“...The Large Black Dragon wants to kill us. If it defeats Ifrit, there’s no doubt we’re next.”
“You’re right! So we should cheer for the Paladin-man now, right!?”
“...But if Ifrit wins, it’ll go after us once it’s done with the dragon.”
“Ehhh!?”
“...Our only way out of this is if they end up killing each other. We should back up whoever seems to be losing.”
Rem prepared a crystal in hand, waiting for a chance to present itself.
Shera nodded. “L-Let’s do everything we can to get out of this!”
Lumachina brought her hands together in prayer. “My Lord, please...protect us...”
†
Ifrit began its attack.
As long as a Summon remained materialized, it continually consumed its Summoner’s MP, so Summons were ill-suited for drawn out battles. For this reason, Gewalt spent no time analyzing the situation and ordered the attack immediately.
Dragonkin were not only powerful, but also knowledgeable and wise. According to one theory, Dragons inherited the memories of their parents.
“Wield thy pow’r to its fullest extent, Dram One.”
“Oooooo!!!”
Ifrit moved in to strike; but it was a feint, as it took the chance to grab the dragon by its horns.
“Shaaa!!!” the Summon roared, lava flowing from its abdomen and washing the opponent over with infernal heat.
This was Ifrit’s special ability.
The air shivered and shook. It took Rem a second to realize that was the dragon’s cry. Her grip on the crystal in her hand tightened.
—So, the Summon is stronger after all...? In that case, now’s my chance to attack the Paladin while he’s occupied with keeping Ifrit manifested! But if I attack too fast, and the dragon ends up coming out on top, our lives would be forfeit... I have to gauge both of them carefully. How much damage did the Large Black Dragon receive from that last attack...?
Its black scales were burning, and it appeared to have sustained significant damage.
“Not yet! Keep attacking it, Ifrit!” Gewalt screamed hoarsely.
Having changed most of is body to lava, the Summon once again assumed a humanoid form and began ramming its fists into the dragon. Ifrit’s burning body wasn’t its only weapon; even its normal attack power was extraordinary.
The dragon’s 30-meter tall body stirred unsteadily, but the attacks wouldn’t cease. Pushing the dragon against the cave’s wall, the summon continued to beat it mercilessly.
As the attack continued, time passed on mercilessly, and Ifrit unleashed its special ability a second time. Turning its body to lava once again, it faced the dragon, spewing the molten inferno all over.
“Sha!” The Summon hissed as it attacked.
—I-Is it over!?
Rem brandished the crystal over head.
“No...” Shera’s breath was stuck in her throat.
Hearing that whisper, Rem gave up on the idea of summoning anything since the meaning behind Shera’s reaction was—
“Is yond all, Dram One? Has’t thy hadst thy fill of despair? If ’t be true so, may death claim thee!”
The dragon, which was beaten helplessly till now, slashed forward with its front legs. Its claws mowed down Ifrit as the Summon attempted to revert to a humanoid form, crushing the upper half of Ifrit’s body.
“It can’t be!” Rem shrieked.
Ifrit was a Summon with an almost indeterminate form. Even if it lost its shape, it could restructure itself. It hadn’t gone back to being a crystal, which stood as proof it wasn’t defeated yet.
Ifrit gradually assumed shape. Taking aim at the Summon, the dragon opened its gigantic jaws.
Rem felt as a shiver run swiftly down her spine.
—Acid Breath!? And...I think we’re just barely in the attack’s effective range!
“We have to run, Lumachina!” Rem grabbed her by the hand.
“Y-Yes!”
“You too, Shera!”
“Got it!”
They got away from the entrance. Immediately after, the Large Black Dragon spewed a black fog from its mouth, hitting Ifrit point blank.
The lava gradually liquified, in a manner different from its former, vigorous form. It melted and spilled over the floor before vanishing, leaving only a black crystal rolling on the ground in its wake.
“Aaaaaahhh!” Gewalt squirmed in agony. “It can’t be! Impossible! M-My ace in the hole! It’s the strongest! How can the strongest Summon lose!?”
“This is the limit of the races.”
There was pity mixed in the dragon’s voice. After communicating telepathically, the dragon swung its tail. Having been softened by Ifrit’s heat and Acid Breath, the ground easily gave way, gouged by the tail.
The tip of the tail grazed against Gewalt.
“Gah!?”
His sword was sent flying, along with his right hand, still gripping it. Blood moistened the ground beneath him.
“D-Dying...” Gewalt crumpled to his feet.
The Trap Worm appeared beneath him.
Rem’s eyes flew open. She thought it was strange; from what she heard, Gewalt was beaten by one of Diablo’s spells, one powerful enough to destroy the whole area around them. So how was he alive?
Apparently, he used the Trap Worm. It was a Summon that burrowed underground, and was capable of swallowing people whole. Usually, it was used to lure opponents into traps, but Gewalt had used it as a means to escape.
—Such resourcefulness!
He was, without a doubt, the most impressive Summoner Rem had ever met.
But even he was no match for the Large Black Dragon. He may have damaged it, but that still left no opening that Rem could take advantage of.
The dragon’s tail ripped across the ground yet again.
“We shan’t allow thee escape!”
The dragon’s tail struck the Trap Worm, sending it and Gewalt flying.
“Gaaah!?”
The worm slammed against the wall and crumpled to the ground, where it lay still, limply. It appeared to be a mortal blow.
—I can’t believe the gap in strength between them was this large!
Suddenly, Lumachina, who had been running next to Rem, turned on her heels and began running the other way, rushing to Gewalt’s side.
“W-What are you doing!?” Rem called out, dumbfounded. She took after Lumachina in a hurry.
Shera followed after Rem and Lumachina. “I-Isn’t this really bad!? The dragon’s looking at us—he’s looking straight at us!”
But these acts of selflessness were what made Lumachina who she was. Adventurers like Rem could never understand her way of thinking.
“Are you still alive!?” Lumachina knelt near Gewalt.
“Ack... Uuu... Wha...? Lu...ma...china...?”
“Please hang on! I’ll heal you!”
“Heh, heh... It seems I’ve...made a bit of a blunder... Silly, old me...”
With each word he spoke, blood spilled from his mouth. His internal organs were seemingly ruptured by the impact. His breaths came out in peculiar, unnatural wheezing sounds.
“Our Lord in heaven, heed this voice seeking salvation,” Lumachina prayed. “Heal the grievous wounds that torment this man. Give clemency and forgiveness to his sins, and spare his life...”
“I wanted to kill you...and earn all that money...wear pretty dresses...and play around with men...”
“Grant your salvation unto him! Grant your forgiveness unto him!”
“Are you that stupid? I...wanted to kill you, and that shitty lizard... Heh, I still do. If I had my hands...I’d strangle the life out of you...right now...”
Both of Gewalt’s hands were gone, and his legs were bent in odd, unnatural directions. It was a miracle he was still alive and breathing. Maybe he owed that to his high level and well-made armor.
“True, your hands are stained with grievous sins,” Lumachina said, continuing to pray, “which is precisely why you must reflect on your sins and atone. It is not yet time for you to return to the Lord’s side. Please, live on!”
“Stop it... I will never, aton—ack!” Copious amounts of blood stained his azure platemail.
“I beg of you, my Lord!”
“Kuh... You’re wasting your breath... Even God would, abandon...a foul woman like me...”
“Your forgiveness unto him! Grant your forgiveness unto him!”
Lumachina joined her hands at her chest, clutching the holy sign with all her might. A white light shone from the holy sign, gradually enveloping Gewalt’s body.
“Th-The pain...is going away!” he said through gritted teeth. “Stop it... Please...stop... Do you have any idea what I’ve done all this time!?”
“Even still, God will surely forgive you!”
“After all this time!?”
Lumachina gripped Gewalt’s once severed hands, which had reappeared at some point.
—Are the High Priest’s miracles truly this powerful!?
Rem’s eyes were wide in shock. She’d heard Lumachina’s talent was rare even in the history of the Church, and had witnessed her miracles several times already...but was she truly this gifted?
Rem was shocked beyond words.
“Everything will be fine.” Lumachina smiled brightly. “Even when on the brink of their final moments, so long as people repent, God will forgive all sins.”
Gewalt’s eyelids squeezed shut, a single transparent drop spilling from the corner of his tightly closed eyes.
“That right...? God sounds like a...good man...”
His breath gradually became calm and rhythmic. Despite the fact he was so deeply wounded, it was a miracle he was even alive. He was now sleeping soundly, as if he was nothing more than exhausted.
The power of Lumachina’s miracles was astounding...
And yet, the fact they were still in the worst possible scenario hadn’t changed in the slightest.
Rem looked up at the dragon. “We have no desire to fight. Could you please let us go?”
“Oooh... An elf with a bow enchant’d by a Demon Lord, and a human did bless with one of God’s wings. Truly fascinating... But thou... Art thou not the vessel?”
“Huh...? Do you...know about me?”
“The Demon Lord’s soul... I sense it.”
“...It was within me, in the past. But I’ve already removed it.”
“The Dram Ones at each moment fail to und’rstand coequal themselves. Howev’r faint, it still remains within thee.”
“What!? But then...”
The Demon Lord Krebskulm’s soul was sealed within Rem; the only way to release it was either through Rem’s death, or a certain ritual. She put her faith in Diablo and allowed for the ritual to take place so they could extract the Demon Lord from within her and defeat it. But the Demon Lord Krebskulm had lost their memories, reduced to a biscuit-loving girl who didn’t wish to inflict harm upon the races.
Rem placed a hand on her stomach.
—Is the Demon Lord’s soul still inside me!?
“We know of the w’rld. Of divine providence. Of heaven and Earth. As wouldst be natural, f’r within Us runs the blood of dragons. We art heir to knowledge dating back to the genesis of this w’rld, f’r it runs through our veins, unhind’r’d since ancient times. And we know coequal of how the w’rld shall end.”
“...If your wisdom is so vast, could you not understand our situation? Please, spare us!”
—The Demon Lord’s soul is still inside me! All the more reason I can’t afford to die here!
“The lives of ye Dram Ones art but a transient moment in the annals of time.”
“...From the perspective of Dragons, perhaps that’s how it seems.”
“In yond case, shouldst thee kick the bucket anon by Our hand ’r some anon time matters not.”
“What!?”
“Thy existence is the same as a change in the currents of the winds... The same as coming across oddly color’d grass... Ere our eternal life, thy existence is as meaningless as a stone on the roadside...”
“No!”
The Large Black Dragon inhaled deeply, sucking in air with a shrill whistling sound.
—Is it going to use its Acid Breath!?
They no longer had any means of getting away from its effective range. Using a Summon to defend herself would probably be useless, for it could even beat a powerful Summon like Ifrit with one blow. The Summons Rem had contracted with wouldn’t buy her any time.
A black fog burst from the Dragon’s massive mouth—
A spear of light pierced the dragon’s jaw.
Its head flung back, the acid breath spraying across the wall and melting rocks that littered the cave’s floor.
“An injury...upon Us!? Who is’t art thou!?”
Rem and the other two turned their gazes to where the spear of light was fired. The entrance door was opened, and there he stood. Even with a different weapon and outfit, there was no mistaking him.
They could see him, the person they had trusted the most.
Gripping a menacing war scythe, the man laughed arrogantly.
“Heh, you think yourself a God with a mere level of 140? Don’t make me laugh, you overgrown newt!”
Rem couldn’t hold back the tears in her eyes as she cried out:
“Diablooo!!!”
†
“Dram One!” A hoarse voice echoed in Diablo’s mind. “Howev’r proficient thou may be at manipulating magic, to dare Us is the height of folly! Be did prepare to did cast thy brief candle hence!”
The Large Black Dragon had communicated telepathically, and, though he didn’t let it show, Diablo was internally surprised.
—Whoa, awesome! So this is what telepathy is like! It’s like one of those hallucinations I get after marathoning an event for days.
Putting that enthusiasm aside, despite all the bravado behind his taunt, Diablo was in terrible condition at the moment. For starters, his equipment was gone; in terms of both his weapons and armor, he was effectively fighting naked. And to top it off, his HP and MP were both greatly diminished. The prospects of fighting a level 140 monster in this state were terribly slim.
Diablo glared up at the dragon.
—There’s no way I could say that, though...
The fact that Rem and the others were still alive was a miracle in and of itself. When he had heard the sounds of fighting coming from the twelfth level, he could feel despair threatening to overcome him. On top of being level 140, Diablo configured the Large Black Dragon’s behavior to “Super Active,” so whenever it would find an adventurer, the dragon would always go all out in trying to defeat them. There was no room for coincidences with this monster. It would never happen to be asleep or not be in the mood to fight. And with his party’s levels, the dragon’s first attack would be all it would take to wipe them out.
It sounded like the fighting was pretty fierce. Did someone other than the girls fight the dragon? Whoever it was, thanks to them, Diablo had made it in time.
From where he was standing, he couldn’t see who was lying next to Lumachina.
“W-Whoa, boss...” Horn chimed in, peeking in from the shadow of the doorway. “I-It’s a dragon! I’ve never seen a dragon before!”
“They’re not that uncommon if you go deeper into the Demon Lord’s Domain. Though they are a bit more crafty compared to the magical beasts.”
“Th-That sounds like trouble!”
“Stop panicking. If you’re that scared, close the door. I’ll call for you when I’ve taken care of it. Its Acid Breath can affect you even behind cover; just breathing the acid in the air will burn your lungs.”
“Yikes!?” As instructed, Horn closed the door.
—Well, it’s not like I’m any less susceptible to it than she is.
An Elemental Sorcerer who was specialized in firepower was weak to AOE attacks. The Demon Lord’s Ring would deflect any spells, but a breath attack was considered a special ability.
However, Diablo had a fighting style reserved for fighting these types of opponents.
“Hmph... I’m in something of a hurry here. I haven’t the leisure nor the desire to waste my time on the likes of you, inferior Dragonkin.”
“Oh, thou dare fig Us. In yond case, as per thy wish, We shalt give thee death!”
Diablo was surprised the Dragon fell for the taunt. The monsters he had set on the other floors all acted as he configured, with one exception: when the monsters were excited by Shera’s singing.
Maybe it was because Dragonkin could talk, but the dragon’s reactions were even further removed from what he would have expected of an AI.
Diablo pointed his war scythe at the dragon.
“Come light, gather forth. Creep out from within the darkness, and punish those that oppose Providence—”
“Kick the bucket under the weight of thy hubris, Dram One!”
Flapping its wings, the Dragon rose into the air and began charging at Diablo, brandishing its massive claws.
Since Diablo no longer had Tenma’s Staff’s incantation time-shortening effect, casting spells took longer than usual.
—Make it in time, make it in time, I should make it... All right!
“?Hercules Lance?!!!”
A lance of light, roughly five meters in length, appeared in Diablo’s hand and flew onward, clashing with the dragon’s charge. With its large body, the Dragon had no way of avoiding it.
The opponent’s magic resistance was high, but Diablo’s level was higher. The excess magical energy would offset it, and Diablo had already confirmed he could damage the Dragon.
The level 120 light element spell—Hercules Lance. The spear of light pierced the dragon’s torso.
A tremble ran through the air.
“Heh, so you actually use your voice when you scream,” Diablo said, smirking.
“Such power! To bethink thy couldst pierce through Our scales!”
“True, I am powerful. But aren’t you too weak? I’d have thought you’d be stronger than that.”
The monsters in this dungeon were all the same level Diablo had set them to. It wasn’t like in other places where “they’re weaker compared to the game since they’re not used to fighting.”
Yet still, the Large Black Dragon wasn’t as strong as it should be. He had planned to use the Hercules Lance to threaten it and create an opening for a real finishing move, but he didn’t plan to deal this much damage with the equipment he had on.
It didn’t make any kind of mathematical sense that Diablo would deal this much damage with his current equipment. Only one explanation came to mind.
—Is it possible my level is above 150 now?
Even as he considered that idea, he continued maneuvering about, his movements and the timing of his spells impeccable thanks to the habits that had been ingrained into him from countless hours of playing Cross Reverie.
Setting it in an angle where it wouldn’t hit Rem and the others, Diablo unleashed yet another light element spell at the dragon. The Large Black Dragon was of the darkness element, so light spells should have done 50% more damage to it.
“You’re amazing, Diablo...” Rem said, her voice shaking in awe and amazement.
“We’re saved! He came to save us!” Shera cheered, embracing Lumachina with excitement.
“My Lord...I knew you would protect us...” Lumachina’s tears welled up in her eyes.
The dragon’s scales shattered, and brown, earth-colored blood scattered across the cave.
“Impossible. It cannot be! A dragon...losing to a Dram One!? Did push back by one of the races!? It cannot be... Hadst it been a group it would has’t been conceivable, but...”
“Heheheh... Do you still not understand? You are not facing a mere child of the races!”
“What...!?”
“I am Diablo! A Demon Lord from another world!”
“Ah!? Th-That name... Diablo...? We know of it... In the past, We has’t certes...known one who is’t go by yond name...”
“Oh...?”
Diablo couldn’t hold back his surprise. Maybe the dragon remembered having been set here by Diablo. Could it possibly have memories from the game...?
“Tell me, fool... Do these words ring familiar to you? The MMORPG, Cross Reverie.”
“Augh. We doth not wish...to kick the bucket...”
“Hmph.” Just as Diablo asked that question, he had launched a ?Thunder Axe? spell at the dragon, severing one of its wings.
“We doth not wish to...kick the bucket...” The dragon stepped back unsteadily. “We mustn’t kick the bucket yet!”
“Didn’t you say something earlier about it not mattering if they die now or later?”
“We has’t yet to produce offspring... Thither is nay one...to inherit Our memories...”
“You utter fool...” Diablo said, lowering his war scythe.
Turning his back to the dragon, he refused to continue his attack and instead heaved a heavy, morose sigh.
—I get it now. You’re a virgin too, aren’t you?
Diablo figured that, since the Dragonkin were so few in number, finding a mate must have been difficult.
The dragon fled to the back of the cave, leaving spots of its dark brown blood across the floor.
—It can’t fly anymore, after all.
But in the direction it was headed, a single girl stood.
“What!? No!” Diablo exclaimed in shock.
He had no idea who the girl was, but he had noticed her far too late. The Large Black Dragon glared at the girl standing in its way with bloodshot eyes.
“Doth not stand...in our way! We mustn’t kick the bucket! We cannot kick the bucket yet!”
The girl brushed up her violet hair, the expression on her face not changing in the slightest.
“Who approved your retreat? You are the twelfth floor’s guardian... Disobeying the Master’s orders is punishable by death.”
Diablo’s eyes shot open with surprise. Those clothes, that appearance...
He remembered her.
—It can’t be, is she...?!
“Move! If it be true thee receive in Our way, coequal thee shall not escape Our wrath!” the dragon threatened.
Black smoke billowed from its punctured throat and body. While its power was somewhat diminished, the dragon unleashed its acid breath onto the girl.
The girl swung the tools in her hands: a sword with dual blades extending from each end of it and a chainsaw with a blade made of shining energy beams. Weapons as far-removed and foreign as could be to this world’s middle-ages setting.
“It is time to clean, then.”
The moment the acid breath was about to hit the girl, it gradually began to dissipate; the sulfuric fog did not reach her.
“How dare thee, thou mere cleaning tool...!?” the dragon howled.
“So you would call Rose a tool... Very well. Rose has all the more reason to dispose of you, then. Master is the only one who may treat Rose as a tool.”
The girl who called herself Rose thrust her weapons into the ground. Having his breath blocked, the dragon resorted to swinging his claws at her.
“Thou shalt regret standing ’gainst Us, doll!”
Rose, who hadn’t changed her expression until now, gritted her teeth and bellowed, “Do not...call Rose...a doll!!!”
A massive sword appeared out of thin air, very similar in appearance to the sci-fi like sword the girl previously wielded.
A steel hand gripped the sword’s handle. It appeared armored, but Diablo noticed the hinges at its joints. Pipes ran through it like arteries, and Diablo could see symbols and letters, like the ones seen on a magic circle, carved on them. The symbols shined all the way to its fingers, as if they were distributing energy.
The mechanical arm moved, deflecting the dragon’s claws with the dual-bladed sword and pushing the dragon back with each slash.
“Oh... Oh... Oh!?”
“Hehe...hehe...hahahaha! You’re trying to beat Rose in a contest of strength!? You dumb lizard!”
The mechanical arm that hovered behind Rose was a part of her. It shattered the dragon’s claws and severed its scaled front legs, spilling copious amounts of blood on the ground as the dragon’s cries of pain once again shook the air.
“Inconceivable... To has’t did injure us this much...”
“For all your boasting, Rose thought your scales would be a little tougher than this. Rose will have you know she is only getting warmed up.”
“Wh...at...!?”
“Now! It is time for you to atone for your crimes with death! ?Crius?!!!”
The hand that floated behind her slashed the sword horizontally with ease, which should have been impossible given its weight. The sword moved so rapidly, Diablo found it hard to follow the edge with his eyes.
The wind shrieked and whistled as it was cut. The sword danced, shattering the dragon’s scales, cleaving its flesh, shattering its bones, and painting the cave with its brown blood.
Eventually the Large Black Dragon’s torso was split in half.
“Gah!”
“Be silent.”
To finish it off, she thrust the sword into the beast’s drooping head. With this, the dragon’s telepathy disappeared from Diablo’s mind.
Rose turned her gaze to Rem and the others.
“There’s still someone left? Rose is not the twelfth floor’s guardian, but there is still need of cleaning u—”
The girl’s emerald eyes met with Diablo’s. There was no doubting it—
He remembered her.
When he made his dungeon in Cross Reverie, Diablo set a certain piece of furniture in his “Demon Lord’s Chamber.” It was a piece one could buy with in-game currency, called a ?Magimatic Maid?. While it looked human, it was actually an automata that operated on magic...or at least, so said the in-game description. According to that same description, its combat abilities were supposed to be very high and it should have had many handy features, but none of that was implemented in the game. It would only wander aimlessly around the room with a vacuum cleaner in hand, which earned it the moniker of “Roomba” on the message boards.
Reminiscing of that time, Diablo was overcome with emotion.
“Do you remember those times, Rose?”
“Mas...ter...?”
“I am Diablo... No. Perhaps you would know me better as @Diablo-13.”
Rose froze in shock, the dual-bladed sword dropping from her hand and slamming against the floor with a powerful, ringing clamor. The mechanical arm that had hovered behind her disappeared silently.
Maybe in this world it acted like a Summon? It only existed in the game’s setting but was never actually put into use in-game, so Diablo had no way of knowing, but Rose’s strength was without a doubt exceptional. It was safe to assume she no longer had any desire to fight.
Diablo stepped closer to her.
“I’ve finally returned, Rose.”
Her shoulders trembled and her eyes widened in shock as beautiful, transparent tears rolled down her handsome cheeks.
She whispered back with a tremble in her voice, “W... Welcome back...my Master...”
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