—————————————————————–
Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Vine
—————————————————————–
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
My mind raced, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. I wanted to stay in bed, to postpone the inevitable, but I couldn’t. I had to act. I had to kill demons.
The dungeon exploration exercise is a crucial turning point. We cannot afford to miss this.
My companion insisted on stopping the Devil’s Church. A demon summoning during the exercise, with so many students present, would be catastrophic.
A powerful demon will appear. We must stop it.
More deaths if I failed to act. But the grand scale of his warnings, the impending doom, the powerful demon, felt… distant.
“…Atlas will be there, won’t he…?”
That was my biggest concern. My companion believed Atlas, now a demon, was the greatest threat.
He will be there. But we’re prepared this time.
“Alright.”
Don’t blame yourself… What’s done is done. You had no choice.
I was physically prepared, but not emotionally. He was no longer the Atlas I knew, yet the thought of facing him filled me with hesitation. It was different from facing an unknown demon.
Students were entering the dungeon through the main entrance. I, following my companion’s instructions, took a different route, a secret passage known only to the dungeon’s creator, a relic from before the Academy’s takeover. Unlike the brightly lit, concrete-reinforced main entrance, this back entrance was a dark, natural cave. I navigated the narrow passage until I reached a chamber with a concrete floor and scattered goblin corpses. The students had already passed through.
The ritual will take place in the hidden chamber. Proceed to the designated location.
Following his guidance, I reached the hidden chamber, a section of the wall that opened with a specific sequence of pressure points. I pressed the stones, and the wall slid open. A presence behind me.
“Amy?”
River, also equipped for the exercise, stood in the passage.
Of all times…!
I was dressed for demon hunting, not dungeon exploring. I hadn’t even told her I was participating. I froze, unsure what to say.
“Are you feeling better? When did you get here? What are you wearing?”
“I… um…”
She approached, smiling, and I panicked, like a child caught stealing cookies.
Hurry! The door is closing!
“No! Get out!”
I tried to push her away, but it was too late.
Rumble…
The wall slid shut, trapping us in the darkness. She looked around, then at me.
“…Amy, care to explain?”
We walked through the dark passage, River’s light spell illuminating the path. The entrance was sealed. We headed towards the other exit.
“So… you skipped class because Atlas… threw you to the ground…?”
“That’s… a simplified version, but yes.”
She listened patiently as I explained, omitting the part about my companion. I told her about my history with the Devil’s Church, my encounter with Atlas, his transformation into a demon, my defeat, and the purpose of this hidden chamber.
I should have told her sooner.
Confiding in her was a relief. I couldn’t tell my parents about the Devil’s Church. They would worry. My companion had forbidden it. But this time, he encouraged it, saying lying to River would jeopardize our future cooperation.
She finally spoke, after a long silence.
“I have to correct you on one thing. Atlas isn’t a demon.”
“He is. I saw him. The demonic energy… it was suffocating…”
She didn’t believe it. Anyone who knew Atlas would find it hard to believe.
“Atlas is stronger than that. He wouldn’t succumb to a demon’s temptation…”
“What if the demon… offered him… increased height?”
“That… I’m not sure about…”
Her face paled. Obsession made one vulnerable. Atlas was strong-willed, but his strength stemmed from his insecurity about his height. His defiance was a defense mechanism against the constant judgment. He was the one most affected by his height. It was obvious, the way he hung upside down from trees during our morning exercises, claiming it stimulated his joints, the way he only drank milk, the way he consumed foul-smelling supplements and bitter herbs before training.
An irresistible offer, a chance to quench an unquenchable thirst… could he truly refuse?
“It’s a possibility, but it’s just speculation. I don’t believe it. I’ll decide after seeing him myself.”
She understood his deepest desire. And she believed he was still fighting against it. She chose to trust the Atlas she knew.
“I… see.”
I envied her unwavering faith.
“It’s dangerous here. Stay behind me.”
My companion warned me about traps ahead. He would guide me. I told River to stay back. She complied, trusting my judgment in this unfamiliar territory.
“Amy…”
She hesitated, then spoke.
“Is that… really mithril?”
She stared at my greatsword, a solid chunk of pure mithril.
“Yes, it is.”
“Wow… I’ve never seen so much mithril… Did you use… all of it? Can I… swing it once, after this is over?”
She seemed mesmerized by the sheer amount of rare metal. Even a small amount of mithril was incredibly expensive.
“If everything goes well.”
This too…? What’s going on?
Something was wrong with the dungeon. My companion muttered, confused.
“Wow… what happened here…?”
The hidden chamber was… destroyed. The traps were dismantled, the monsters slaughtered. The deeper levels, typically filled with intricate traps, were completely cleared, not disarmed, but obliterated. It made our descent much easier. We reached the altar.
“The altar… is destroyed too.”
The summoning circle was defaced, the stone altar shattered. Four bodies in black robes, decapitated, lay scattered around the altar.
“Decapitated… in a single blow…”
River was shocked. So was I. The clean cuts were identical to the ones I had seen when Atlas was standing in the summoning circle.
Could it be… Atlas…?
Why would he do this…? Were they from a different faction…?
‘What do you mean?’
The Devil’s Church has multiple factions, each worshipping a different demon…
If Atlas’s demon patron wasn’t the one being summoned here, he might have sabotaged the ritual.
This is good… He really went all out…
“So… we don’t have to worry anymore?”
The summoning circle was destroyed, and we hadn’t encountered Atlas. Were we safe?
“We’re interrupting something, are we?”
A chilling voice echoed through the chamber. I instinctively fired.
-Bang!
“Ouch… That’s a bit rude, isn’t it?”
The voice, closer now, sounded annoyed, not pained. It was different from Atlas. This time, I had hit him. A dented silver bullet lay at the feet of a figure in black robes. He seemed unharmed. Unlike the other cultists, he wore a mask, a jester’s mask with two large horns.
Horned mask… A Devil’s Advocate!
My companion’s voice was urgent. Devil’s Advocates were demon contractors, the elite fighters of the Devil’s Church.
“Now… who’s responsible for this mess…?”
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇