Chapter 194
Chapter 194
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 194
Chapter Title: Lion's Citadel (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
●
From what I remember of the game, the Lion's Citadel is one of the most straightforward "mini-dungeons."
Its layout is brutally simple.
Most of Sera's main dungeon clears follow a three-phase structure: hunting for key items, breaking through gimmick-filled traps, then taking down the boss.
This place? It's just layered with countermeasures to keep anyone from getting in. That assessment fits perfectly.
But that simplicity comes at a cost—the traps are vicious.
You can tell just from these beams pouring down from above in droves.
Blinding light floods every direction without a single gap. Magic formulas that automatically track and attack any "intruder" they spot.
Not random shots—the paths are meticulously laid to ensure they hit dead-on.
"This feels off."
"Pardon?"
"Why bother installing all these in force? It's a place used by guys who are already dead."
"..."
"And the maintenance is crap."
That's a pretty cynical way to rate your own death.
But the statement isn't wrong at all.
After the Guardians deployed to the Nightfall Incident were wiped out, they weren't claimed by any faction—not even properly handled postmortem. They were forgotten fast.
Recalling my time playing Sera, the aftermath for the Guardians wasn't great.
The biggest reason? They didn't belong to any faction.
It's a clear reflection of the Empire's current state—strongest among the three great powers on paper, but only caring about its own turf.
"...But you."
"Hm?"
"How are you so calm in a situation like this...?"
Fair question.
After all, right now.
I'm standing smack in the middle of those traps I mentioned earlier, blocking attacks flying in from all sides.
"This is manageable."
"..."
"Training back in my active days was way harsher than this."
Kaliban—who'd been "controlling" my body—responded like that.
Just as I'd asked him beforehand, he was handling my body for me now.
Even amid multilayered spells radiating malice and murderous intent bent on killing the intruder, he finds hair's-breadth gaps and weaves through with fluid dodges.
Sure, EX-rank Desperate Situation was active since his life was on the line, but that's irrelevant here.
One step forward. Head tilted back slightly. A sidestep.
Watching him clear this deadly trap with minimal movements is absurd.
Gunfire from all angles—you'd think dodging after seeing the trigger pull was the difficulty level. Yet he's making it look easy.
'...Now I get where that monster sense of his comes from.'
Once Eliya grabs the holy sword, her potential explodes.
Not for nothing is she this world's "protagonist." From then on, she rises to rival the realm's strongest—the demons—the only one who can match them evenly.
And the edge that lets her show that power? Her "combat sense," bursting out like pure instinct in every moment.
Like what Kaliban was demonstrating now—instinctively picking the optimal move every instant.
'...Hard to believe there are guys even stronger than this.'
Those definitely a cut above Kaliban would be few: the Tower Master, Sword Saint—maybe saints with holy titles.
Kendrid Margrave or Tristan Grand Duke could probably hold their own to some degree, but even so.
It's enough to make you feel how differently the elite see the world.
"Alright. Trap cleared."
He says that as he slips past the beams' kill zones.
"But man, your body's in great shape. You might actually survive at this rate."
"..."
Of course it is.
It's a body with EX-rank Desperate Situation triggered. A cheat skill that lets even me—with my trash stats—hang with the world's top tiers.
Survive? No idea what he's on about.
"Nah, I mean the women lining up to jump you. Even my little sis just recently—"
A choking sound cuts in.
Kaliban's words stop dead.
"...Hey, Kaliban."
"Hm."
"I didn't mishear that, right?"
"Nope. I heard it too."
No wonder. Ever since Kaliban started itching to smack his sister around more than usual, every time he brings her up, there's this intense reaction from somewhere.
I scan around seriously. If it's a possibility—
"...Think there's another spirit nearby?"
Maybe remnants of other Guardians lingering here.
Kaliban's face says he's not buying it, though—he's looking at me like I'm pathetic.
"No, sometimes you get stupid in the weirdest ways."
Kaliban sighs heavily and continues.
"Honestly, it'd be weirder if you didn't notice that reaction—"
Mid-sentence, Kaliban freezes like something clicked.
Then he glances back and forth between my face and the direction of the voice.
"—Hmmm."
Hearing that hum sends a chill crawling up my spine.
"...What?"
I ask, puzzled by his mutter, but he just grins instead of answering.
"Look, from my angle, it bugs the hell outta me. But I'd love for you and Eliya to get real close."
"..."
What the hell?
"Isn't it obvious? She's my one and only blood. I want her future happy. And you... not a bad match, all things considered."
"...Thanks... I guess...?"
Kinda throws me—he's usually ripping into me as trash, playboy, wastrel. This is weird.
Did he actually think that highly of me?
"Yeah, you're trash, playboy, wastrel. But at least you're not the type to make Eliya cry."
"...
"You're a closet nerd. Women chase you, and you fold."
No clue what he's getting at.
His eyes keep flicking back behind us as he talks.
"That's your weak spot. Easy to topple—not by force, but by 'sincerity.'"
It's like he's dropping "hints" for someone back there on purpose.
"...What the hell have you been on about since earlier?"
"Just rethinking things—yeah, I really am a ghost."
"..."
Something I've noticed since he materialized.
This guy—his expressions are starting to look like mine.
Did it rub off on me?
"Any guess who the spirit might be?"
"Not sure."
Kaliban smirks and presses on.
"While we're at it, lemme ask. What do you really think of Eliya?"
"..."
His lecherous grin makes my head throb.
"...Why the sudden question?"
"Answer, or no help."
"..."
Real menacing, mid-trap run.
So I sigh and reply.
"...Being with her puts me most at ease."
"More detail."
"She's the only one who's ever said she'd 'protect' me. I rely on her some. Probably will going forward."
This world's protagonist, after all.
Beyond her liking me, her status as key figure means I should lean on her. Fact.
"That's liking her, right?"
Another gasp from nearby.
"...No, seriously, why keep—"
"Someone needs a nudge. Wooing takes guts, y'know?"
"What's that supposed to mean, old man?"
"Answer, or no help."
"..."
This guy.
Embarrassed, but I answer anyway.
"...Strictly speaking, yeah. I like her."
"Good. Once more. Full sentence, clear."
"No, you lunatic—what the hell—"
"No help?"
"..."
Sigh again, answer.
"Yes. I like Eliya."
Coughing fits nearby, then ragged breathing.
"Again. More romantic."
"...Dawood Campbell likes Eliya Chrisanax."
Might as well go all in—do everything he wants.
No choice with the constant "no help" threats.
Right after, "Ah, auu" flailing sounds join in.
"Ah, haa, haa..."
"..."
By the end.
Breathing too vivid for a ghost—alive, aroused even.
Sounds like a woman in heat, bluntly put.
"..."
Is it really a spirit?
I'm starting to sense something's off too.
'...Whatever.'
The weird vibe hits hard, but we've cleared the traps and hit the goal.
"...Here."
Kaliban's face hardens at the sight.
The Lion's Citadel's deepest chamber.
Hall of Honor for Guardians who fell in duty.
Should be solemn—urns, tombstones for remembrance.
"..."
"..."
Kaliban and I both go quiet.
The scene's horrific.
Smashed tombstones. Guardians' belongings "purified" by fire.
No respect for the dead, no rites for their rest. Nothing.
"...Knew it'd be like this."
Kaliban speaks bitterly.
Guardians died in the Red Demon's hellfire. Their remains and gear soaked in its sticky magic.
Demon magic's toxic by nature, but the Red Demon's especially hostile to material world's "lifeforms."
"...Not fun seeing this after all they suffered and died for."
"What you accomplished was undeniably great, Kaliban."
"Empire sure doesn't think so."
He's right.
Reason or not, this treatment's unjust.
Guardians are heroes. Mortals who charged demons, sealed them—wrought miracles.
And this?
Not honoring those who sacrificed for the Empire—it's like incinerating plague victims. Inhumane.
"..."
We pass the scene in silence.
Climb the altar for our "target."
Altar engraved: Kaliban Chrisanax.
Retrieve one item from atop it.
His full-body armor from life.
Aiming for the lion breastplate embedded center.
"...You came all this way for that? It's nothing."
Kaliban tilts his head.
True—on its own, zero effect.
Just an armor accessory. No special powers.
But.
"...No."
I reply flatly.
"This is the key."
Thinking that, I summon a window.
[System Message]
[ ‘Main Quest’ has been updated! ]
[Quest Info]
[ Main Quest ] 〖 Chapter 4 – Nightfall 〗
[ Stop target ‘Feynol’ from rampaging! ]
Chapter 1: demonkin. Chapter 2: boy king. Chapter 3: ancient god.
And.
‘...Chapter 4: the demon's rampaging vessel.’
Three fragments, no less.
In the Holy Kingdom's final hero trial, Feynol rampages guaranteed—every route's fixed Chapter 4 "boss fight."
Only solace: no "main body" encounter. But recalling the chaos in the Forge of Strife when two-fragment Elnor rampaged? Not much comfort.
Silver lining?
It's a "fixed" future, so countermeasures exist.
Feynol dreads his own demon rampage. Red Demon's been "suppressed" once before.
By Guardians wearing this lion breastplate.
Link those traits, and even a three-fragment rampage vessel can be soothed somehow.
"Sorry to bring this up amid the mess, Kaliban."
A tiny dagger.
One enabled by Kaliban and the Guardians' all-out seal of the demon.
Without that miracle, it wouldn't work—a "phenomenon" only possible because of it.
Small, worthless-looking, meaningless.
"...This?"
"You'll see."
A dagger that pierces the Red Demon's heart for sure.
"I'll prove what you did wasn't wasted."
With that, I tuck the breastplate away.
●