We Defeated The Demon King And Disbanded Without Any Conflict – Chapter 18

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Yuziro
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Mersen Lumien Promius, the Second Princess of the Promius Empire, preferred the company of books to the clash of swords.

However, her insatiable curiosity often led her down unexpected paths, sometimes with reckless abandon.

It was this very recklessness that brought Mersen and Ron together, a chance encounter that would unknowingly lead her to rely on his strength, saving the Empire from a looming crisis.

It had been several months since Ron had begun wandering the continent, a vagabond with no destination in mind.

His journey had led him to the Promius Empire, where he planned to lay low, making ends meet as a mercenary.

He stood before the job board, his bandaged eyes scanning the messy array of worn-out requests and pristine notices.

Suddenly, his senses tingled; someone was standing beside him.

A delicate scent, reminiscent of lavender, wafted through the air.

It wasn’t the artificial fragrance of perfumes, but a natural aroma that piqued his interest.

A figure, perhaps a head shorter than himself, stood beside him, completely enveloped in a hooded robe, their face hidden behind a mask.

This mysterious individual, clearly a novice adventurer, was meticulously examining every single notice on the board.

He watched as they struggled to reach one particular notice, situated high above the others. Even with a running jump, their fingertips fell agonizingly short.

Amused, Ron effortlessly plucked the notice from its lofty perch and handed it to the struggling adventurer.

“Ah, thank you.”

Their voice was masked by a magical artifact, the sound akin to scraping metal, was slightly unnerving.

Ron, unfazed, simply nodded.

Just a curious beginner, he thought.

He watched as they turned to leave, presumably to accept the request.

But something about their choice, about the way they carried themselves, didn’t sit right with him.

He surprised even himself by intervening.

“Excuse me, are you planning to accept that request?”

“Yes? Is there a problem?”

“Well…”

Ron wasn’t one to stand by and watch a promising rookie waltz to their death.

He wasn’t usually one to meddle, but they were a fellow adventurer, after all.

Moreover, the notice in their hand was a matter of great concern for the entire empire.

A Demonic Domain with a Danger Level of S…

This wasn’t some walk in the park that this clumsy adventurer could simply waltz into.

“But I have to go.” they insisted.

“Have to? Why?”

“I… need to test my magic. To prove my worth.”

“To test your magic? There are plenty of other suitable requests available.”

“This is the only way I can prove myself.”

What are they talking about?

Ron couldn’t understand their logic, but he could sense their unwavering determination beneath that mask.

If it was a personal matter, the least he could do was back off.

“Well, suit yourself. I’m not one to stand in the way of someone so determined.”

The novice adventurer bowed their head in gratitude and quickly disappeared into the crowd.

They’ll be back, with a healthy dose of reality, he thought, watching them leave.

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Their paths crossed again sooner than expected.

Ron was gathering herbs in a nearby forest when he saw a small figure stumbling through the undergrowth, heading towards him.

Technically, they weren’t heading towards him specifically; it seemed like they were going to pass right by him.

But their attire, the same peculiar outfit he had seen earlier, was hard to miss.

Just as I thought.

It was an inevitable outcome.

They probably didn’t even make it past the entrance.

Must’ve encountered a high-level monster on their way there.

Moreover, the Mobile Fortress was notorious for constantly shifting its location.

The Demonic Domain, resembling a colossal tower reaching towards the heavens, caused the internal structure of the surrounding labyrinth to change with each shift.

That was why even the Promius Empire, despite its might, was unable to deal with it directly, opting to post an official request for adventurers instead.

At least they made it out alive, he mused, watching the adventurer collapse onto a bed of soft moss.

Lucky for them, as a fall like that on solid ground would’ve broken their nose.

Are they dead?

As an adventurer, death was an ever-present companion, but watching someone he had just spoken to… it left a bitter taste.

He moved closer and began administering first aid.

His efforts were rewarded as the adventurer slowly regained consciousness.

“Wh… what…?” they mumbled weakly.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now.” Ron reassured them gently.

“Ah… right… thank you… It seems I overestimated my abilities.”

I know, Ron thought wryly, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

“Well, I’ll be on my way then.” he said, standing up.

He thought that was the end of their brief encounter, but fate, it seemed, had other plans.

The next day, Ron found himself back at the job board, eager to take on a new challenge.

But for some reason, it was unusually crowded, adventurers clamoring for requests.

The only notice left untouched was the one at the very top: the subjugation of the Mobile Fortress.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, how may I help you?”

“Are there any other requests available?”

“I’m afraid not. There’s been a surge in adventurers leaving for quests today.”

It happened sometimes.

Periods of calm when the surrounding labyrinths had been cleared, and no urgent matters required their attention.

But for some reason, Ron really wanted to accept a request today.

He ran a hand through his hair, contemplating his options.

Then, without hesitation, he walked up to the board and tore down the notice for the Mobile Fortress.

He craved action, consequences be damned.

This time, he decided he’d simply take a look around, nothing more.

“Will there be anyone else joining you for this quest?” the receptionist asked, her usual chirpiness replaced with concern.

“Nope, just me.”

“…Very well. Please sign here to accept the request.”

She sounded as though she were sending a lamb to slaughter.

Another adventurer who might not come back alive…

Ron left the town and headed for the Demonic Domain.

The Mobile Fortress hadn’t shifted its location yet, and as the other adventurers had noted, it wasn’t too far from the border.

And it was there, standing before the entrance, that he encountered a familiar, small figure.

“…You’re attempting it again?” he asked, dumbfounded.

The adventurer sheepishly nodded.

An incompetent comrade was more trouble than they were worth.

It was a common saying among adventurers.

And this adventurer… well, it was glaringly obvious that they were utterly useless as a teammate.

“Um… would you perhaps consider… joining forces?”

“Well… sure.”

But for Ron, a man who lived for thrills, this was far more enticing.

Navigating a labyrinth with a deadweight companion?

Now that was entertainment!

His immediate agreement surprised the adventurer.

A wave of relief washed over them, and they let out a sigh of relief.

And so began their journey into the heart of the Demonic Domain…

Or rather, a casual stroll through a park.

Compared to the horrors he had faced in the Demon Realm, this labyrinth was child’s play.

A Demonic Domain was essentially a space inhabited by monsters, located outside the human territories.

The Demon Realm, on the other hand, was a place where no human had ever set foot and returned – a realm ruled by demons and devils.

Even the air in the Demon Realm was heavy, oppressive, draining your energy and sanity with every breath.

Sometimes, it felt like it was literally eating away at you.

Ron had spent months, years even, surviving in that hellscape.

He would often brush it off, claiming it was nothing, but deep down, he knew… the experience had changed him, setting him apart from every other adventurer on the continent.

And his role back then?

Reconnaissance and infiltration.

Navigating a labyrinth housed within a simple structure… it was almost boring.

Almost.

Clang!

“Oh my!”

Thump!!

“Oops…”

This adventurer… rookie didn’t even begin to cover it.

Their clumsiness knew no bounds.

They tripped over their own feet while scanning their surroundings, they fumbled with their poorly packed bag, sending vials of potions shattering against the stone floor… it was almost comical.

At this rate, they’d be dead before they knew it.

Ron sighed, deciding to take the novice under his wing.

“When packing your bag, always put the sturdiest items at the bottom… the ones you won’t need to access frequently.”

“The key to reconnaissance is to start with your immediate surroundings, then gradually expand outwards.”

“To muffle your footsteps…”

“You don’t have to rely solely on your sight.”

He began with the basics of stealth and organization, then moved on to more advanced techniques.

“When casting a spell, it’s best to memorize the entire incantation, but improvise the supplementary chants on the fly.”

“Think of it like sculpting with clay. You have the basic form, then you add and shape it as needed.”

“Practice with the most fundamental spells first. Master them before moving on to more complex ones.”

They were clearly lacking in practical experience, their magic clumsy and unrefined, so he even shared some of his knowledge on spellcasting.

Most of it was stuff he had picked up from Al Sola anyway.

He wasn’t about to let his temporary teammate die a senseless death.

The novice adventurer hung onto his every word, their eyes shining with admiration as they watched the bandaged man before them.

And these weren’t just empty words; Ron demonstrated every technique, corrected their posture, provided personalized guidance.

These lessons, coming from someone who had been part of the Hero’s inner circle – though no one knew that – were invaluable.

But reconnaissance and combat were two different beasts.

Whenever they encountered enemies, he would instruct the adventurer to guard the rear while he fought on the frontlines.

But watching him fight alone made the adventurer uncomfortable.

I’m part of the team too… shouldn’t I be doing something?

They had received so much guidance from the ever-patient Ron, their confidence in their abilities inflated beyond reason.

It led them to commit one of the cardinal sins of labyrinth exploration: acting on their own without the skills to back it up.

Ron was facing off against a particularly nasty creature when the adventurer, deciding to show off their skills, began chanting the incantation for their most powerful spell: Sharp Stone.

The monster, sensing their presence, turned its attention towards the adventurer.

Panic seized them, their concentration shattering.

The spell backfired, sending a wave of dark energy crashing against the cavern walls.

“No!” Ron cried out.

It was too late.

The monster, enraged, charged towards the adventurer.

He couldn’t block it.

The creature’s physiology was unlike anything he had encountered before, and it was already moving too fast to intercept.

Ron lunged forward, his mind racing, desperately searching for a solution.

“H-Help…”

Mersen Lumien Promius, the Second Princess of the Promius Empire, stared death in the face.

Before her stood a monstrous being, the likes of which she had never seen before, nor ever wished to see again.

Its eyes glowed with malice, its massive, muscular body, devoid of skin, revealing pulsating muscle fibers.

It was grotesque, a nightmarish vision of death itself.

She had been so excited to finally escape the confines of the palace walls.

For weeks, she had secretly studied the palace guards’ routines, waiting for the perfect moment to put her plan into action.

A costly polymorph potion was carefully hidden away in her room.

She had told the servants she was researching a new spell, requesting that all her meals be brought to her chambers.

Heart pounding with anticipation, she donned the mask and robe, transforming herself into an unassuming adventurer.

She couldn’t disguise her height, her build, or the faint scent of her perfume, but even so, the thrill of venturing out alone for the first time was intoxicating.

She had even gone through the trouble of obtaining an adventurer’s plate.

The results of her mana capacity test placed her at the Silver rank, with a similar ranking in combat skills.

She was, for all intents and purposes, an average adventurer.

But even that small fact filled her with a sense of accomplishment, a stark contrast to her pampered life as royalty.

She knew the state of the Empire, the threats that loomed on the horizon.

But diplomacy… negotiating with other nations who were content to sit back and watch them crumble… it would take too long, cost them too much.

She was young.

Idealistic.

She clung to the dream of becoming a hero, of earning the respect of her father and siblings.

She yearned to single-handedly resolve the Empire’s troubles, to restore their dwindling faith.

And so, armed with nothing but her confidence and a thirst for adventure, she set out to quench her thirst for magic, to conquer a Demonic Domain, to become a hero.

And look where that got her.

She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the agonizing pain.

A warm liquid splattered against her mask and robe.

Blood.

She reeled at the coppery scent, unfamiliar and terrifying.

Her eyes flew open in confusion.

There was no mistaking what she saw.

The kind adventurer who had saved her life countless times, who had tended to her injuries, patiently explaining the dangers she had so recklessly ignored.

The adventurer who had seen past her inexperience, who had shared his knowledge so freely, who had treated her with unexpected kindness despite his gruff demeanor and unusual appearance.

That adventurer… was now lying before her, mortally wounded, his blood staining the cavern floor.

He saved me…

Why?

I never revealed my identity…

I’m just a clueless rookie.

I mean nothing…

Why would he sacrifice himself for me…?

For someone so foolish, so reckless…?

“Why…?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Why…?!” she cried out, her voice growing louder, laced with self-loathing.

“WHYYYYYY!!!”

Her scream, filled with anguish and despair, shattered the sound-dampening enchantment on her mask, her true voice echoing through the chamber.

But she didn’t care.

All that mattered… was the person lying before her, fighting for their life.

As if mocking her grief, her vision swam with red.

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