The Demon Lord and the Grim Reaper (2)
When Neromeltia first stepped into the Underworld, the dead trembled in fear at the arrival of a soul wielding such immense power. Even those who had amassed great spiritual energy and risen to high ranks dared not treat her lightly. Many newly deceased clung desperately to their former lives, thrashing about in vain attempts to return to the living world. That was why the entrance to the Underworld—the River of Emptiness, where new souls first arrived—was guarded by elite undead soldiers. These warriors had never once faltered before any soul that came their way, yet they shook uncontrollably the moment Neromeltia emerged from the void's darkness. They knew that if she chose to rampage, they would be powerless to stop her and would simply vanish into nothingness.
Yet their fears proved unfounded. She quietly disappeared into the depths of the Underworld's forests. There she remained, sometimes sitting in silent contemplation, other times shattering boulders and trees in fits of rage. The souls who dwelled in those woods fled in terror to their villages, but she never harmed anyone.
The Grim Reaper, Iel deet Jiskil, had been watching her. He invited her to his castle. Once there, Neromeltia was offered the chance to become one of the lords of the dead, but she merely sampled the feast and wine before flatly refusing, claiming it was too troublesome. She explained that she would simply wait a hundred years to resurrect and return to the living world anyway. When Iel expressed his regret, she offered to spend her remaining time with him as a friend. Surprised that anyone would propose friendship to the Grim Reaper himself, Iel gladly accepted.
Then came her first resurrection. As Neromeltia departed for the living world with a promise to meet again someday, she returned to the Underworld in less than a minute. Iel had been waiting exactly where she had vanished, as if he had known this would happen. The moment she reappeared, Neromeltia began kicking the ground in fury. Her strikes cracked the earth and collapsed the terrain. A single punch shattered massive rock formations and sent rivers erupting from their beds. Her rage at having to return to the Underworld immediately after resurrecting lasted an entire week, and Iel remained by her side the entire time, watching in silence. He had chosen an uninhabited forest for their farewell precisely because he had foreseen this outcome. Unlike ordinary souls, the Grim Reaper could peer clearly into the living world.
The Demon Lord's kingdom of Hemonigent lay in the far north, where the towering Barkus Volcano pierced the sky. Named after Hemonigent's guardian dragon, it was the second-highest mountain in all of Terraris. Its vast flows of lava continuously poured iron into the northern sea of the Astaris continent, staining the waters so deeply red that it earned the name "Red Ocean." The volcano was also a treasure trove of minerals; the legendary hardest metal, adamantite, could only be smelted there. Cornium, the black iron that served as the Demon Lord's army's primary metal, originated from Barkus Volcano as well.
Such a mountain naturally possessed an enormous scale—ordinary climbers could not even reach its halfway point in a full day. Hidden somewhere within its depths was the secret site of the Demon Lord's resurrection: the Temple of Descent. Its location, form, and size were all unknown, and its very existence was a closely guarded secret known only to the Demon Lord and her innermost circle. Throughout all of Demonian and Hemonigent history, that secret had never once been leaked.
Until now.
The moment Neromeltia attempted to resurrect, the Temple of Descent was already swarming with Humians. They unleashed a devastating barrage of concentrated fire the instant her body began to form. Reduced to nothing more than fragments of flesh with no power to resist, she was reduced to ash before she could even take shape. Without being able to fight back, Neromeltia vanished from the living world once more.
She had known that on the day of her first death, a traitor had allowed the Humians to enter the Demon Lord Castle without resistance. Yet she had never imagined that same traitor also knew the location of the Temple of Descent. The betrayer must have revealed its position to the Humians—there was no other way they could have found a place that could never be discovered through ordinary exploration. It was also clear that Hemonigent remained under Humian occupation. With the Demon Lord Castle standing directly before Barkus Volcano, if the Temple of Descent had fallen, then Hemonigent itself must have been completely conquered. If even a single Demon Lord soldier had remained, they would have defended the Demon Lord's resurrection with their life.
In the end, the Demonians were still being trampled by the Humians, and the Humians had succeeded in seizing and ruling all of Terraris. These realizations ignited Neromeltia's fury. And this situation never changed, no matter how many times she resurrected. With each resurrection, the Humians' weapons and technology only grew more advanced, their equipment ever more lavish. During her fourth resurrection, she had felt the Temple of Descent tremble slightly and sensed that someone was attacking the Humians in an attempt to save her, but in every other resurrection, she detected no signs of aid.
Thus, Neromeltia approached her tenth resurrection.
"Iel! Are you here?!"
After passing the oblivious zombie guards and Jeremy, Neromeltia went straight to find Iel. Seated upon the Grim Reaper's throne, a man greeted his friend. His appearance had remained unchanged for a thousand years. Lifeless white hair cascaded down to his shoulders. He wore an ashen-gray suit with a matching ribbon cravat, its center adorned with a brooch of blood-red gemstone. His green eyes, radiating a chilling aura like a lighthouse on a winter night, gleamed with a cold light. Between his widely stretched lips, rows of razor-sharp teeth like a shark's or a saw blade were fully exposed.
The ruler of the dead and death itself—the Grim Reaper, Iel deet Jiskil.
"You've come, Neromeltia."
"Yeah. How does it feel, knowing this is my tenth resurrection?"
"My, shouldn't that question be coming from me, the Grim Reaper, to you, the one experiencing it?"
"You don't waste words on pointless talk, so I'm asking on your behalf."
Iel grinned widely at Neromeltia's bold, half-joking remark, his sharp and menacing teeth clearly visible. Though Neromeltia knew as his friend that this man was an undead and not a vampire, images had a way of sticking. "You know you're more vampire-like than the vampire friend I had when I was alive?"
"Yes, I've heard that several times."
"Your teeth are sharper and more terrifying than his."
"I've heard that one many times as well."
After a thousand years of acquaintance, repeating stories they had already heard countless times was simply part of their daily routine. Yet both Iel and Neromeltia found a certain comfort in that unchanging familiarity. When Iel snapped his fingers, beautiful banshees lined up and appeared to prepare tea time. The translucent banshees floated about, bringing tables and arranging refreshments. As the stunning banshee maids—beautiful enough to be mistaken for princesses or noble daughters—drifted around, Neromeltia swallowed hard and tilted her head slightly to the side.
"As I always say, do not covet my children."
"...Shouldn't you ask for their opinions too? They might like me!"
Caught peeking under the banshees' skirts, Neromeltia brazenly voiced her opinion to Iel. It was an outrageous statement for the master of the castle, but Iel merely chuckled and let it pass. Such exchanges were also part of their routine.
"It's unfair that you get to keep all the beautiful women to yourself! You could share a few!"
"I believe I already sent servants to your mansion a thousand years ago."
"...Those girls are cold to me. The more I try to get close, the more openly they dislike me."
"Well, if someone suddenly tries to grab their waist or fondle their chest, no woman would appreciate it—handsome man or not. Especially not from another woman. You really don't understand women's hearts at all, my unchanging friend who remains the same as a thousand years ago."
"Sweet-talking won't get you anywhere, you know? When I go to Terraris, there are girls who only have eyes for me!"
The moment the topic of Terraris slipped out, a deep sorrow flickered across her face and vanished. Through ten deaths, her life in the Underworld had already spanned a thousand years. In that long span of time, the grief of losing her country, her people, her retainers, and her friends should have dulled, yet it remained a reverse scale and a blade lodged in her heart. Iel caught the fleeting sorrow on her face but only smiled gently.
"First, have a seat. I would like to celebrate your resurrection once more."