17. An Appropriate Dungeon (7)
Beatrice Schwartzfeder. She was full of regret.
To think I misunderstood such a kind person...
Beatrice, who had half-considered Sisilia a demon, felt deeply ashamed. She was a true superior who knew how to look after her subordinates. Of course, just a little. There was the tiniest shred of doubt. Wouldn't it have been better to just clear it for us instead of making that contract...?
Don't question her intentions. Focus on conquering the dungeon right now.
"Hah... I knew they were incompetent, but I never imagined it'd be this bad."
Ricardo swept back his hair in disbelief. Beatrice glanced at Hyter, who was glaring murderously with his sword at the ready, and thought,
Sisilia was right.
-Rules apply to both sides. If the enemy doesn't follow them, you won't get penalized for breaking them either.
When the apprentice knights said they wanted to fight, Sisilia had kindly offered advice. A head-on battle held no chance of victory. Even if it did, they'd suffer heavy losses.
The apprentice knights fell into despair. Watching them, Sisilia smiled faintly and said,
-It's not that there's absolutely no way to win.
"Do you really think you can beat me?"
Ricardo shook his head. It was exactly the reaction Sisilia had predicted.
-They'll try to intimidate you. When they do, just admit it cleanly.
"...As if. Just looking at you terrifies me."
"Kuhaha! This is delightful. So, how do you plan to pay up my heart?"
-Then propose a game. Demons will gladly accept. Even if they know it's disadvantageous, they'll focus on the immediate gain right in front of them.
Tension rippled through the apprentice knights. Would this really work? No matter how they thought about it, there was no benefit for the demon in accepting such a game. But they had already started—they couldn't stop now.
"I propose a game."
As Beatrice spoke up bravely, Ricardo blinked.
"A game?"
"Yes."
"What an intriguing offer. What game would you like to play with me?"
"...How about a game to see whose heart is heavier?"
Ricardo furrowed his brow in momentary confusion.
"How do you even know about the scales? Only a select few among demons are permitted... Ah, I see."
The Slaughterer must have advised them. No wonder these humans, who had lost their will to fight long ago, had walked right into this trap on their own.
They must have pulled some trick... But any meaningful intervention is impossible due to the contract.
Ricardo smiled leisurely.
"Very well. I accept."
Among human emotions, frustration was the most delicious. The feeling extracted from a human certain of victory—nothing compared to it, not even the rarest delicacies.
"However, if I win, all of you will serve in this mansion. Forever—"
Beatrice nodded calmly. Ricardo gestured for her to follow and entered the room. He sat at the table. As Beatrice sat across from him, Ricardo produced scales from the darkness.
One side hung empty in the void, while the other flickered with black flames. He raised his hand slightly, flashing a grotesque smile.
"These are heart scales. A very simple tool. They weigh the heart. But you know, don't you? The 'weight' here isn't merely physical."
Ricardo lightly tapped one side with his finger. Black flames roared higher on that pan.
"Your emotions, fears, guilt, and very lives climb onto these scales. A heart riddled with regret floats light as a feather, while a courageous one presses down heavily."
Ricardo politely clasped his hands.
"Will you be my opponent?"
Beatrice took a shallow breath and nodded.
"Yes."
At that, Beatrice's chest glowed. A radiant light emerged and settled on the opposite pan. Ricardo admired it.
"What a truly beautiful heart."
"..."
Beatrice wasn't sure whether to cry or laugh.
Why did you choose me?
It had been Sisilia's decision to select Beatrice as the participant in this game. She said Beatrice could win it... But Beatrice thought differently. Hyter would have been better. He looked far more courageous than her from any angle.
As her forcibly suppressed fear began to writhe, Beatrice bit her lip and desperately recalled Sisilia's words.
-If you can't believe in yourself, believe in me. I'm the knight in the Windsor Knight Order who's conquered more dungeons than anyone.
"Then—let's begin the game. The winner is whoever's side stays tilted for one full minute."
Ricardo clapped lightly. Instantly, his side dipped down.
-At first, the demon's heart will naturally be heavier. Changing that is relatively simple.
"Oh dear, it seems my heart holds more value."
Tsk. Beatrice drew in a breath and spoke.
"I know you've committed fraud."
"...Fraud?"
The scales trembled slightly.
"You've deliberately set the dungeon's level lower than it really is to lure in weak opponents, haven't you?"
-Make the demon tremble in fear. What they fear most is...
"If your superior—say, the Demon King—learned of this, do you think she'd forgive you?"
-...the Demon King. Demons are salarymen just like us. They fear their bosses the same way.
"...Do you think you can escape here alive? Even if you do, how will you report this to the Demon King?"
"It'd be tough for us. But Sisilia's different, isn't she?"
Sisilia's advice worked perfectly. The scales, tilted toward Ricardo, slowly rose. Ricardo's face showed clear panic.
"Well... that's a hit. Yes, a heart guilty of fraud loses some value. But."
Ricardo glared sharply at Beatrice.
"Even so, do you think it'll be lighter than a human heart that's lived only a tenth of my time?"
-By now, it'll get heated and switch to informal speech. That's when you bring up the rules. Demons have to follow them too.
"You've broken the rules."
"...!"
"A pathetic demon who can't even follow their own rules must have a heart of lesser value than mine."
Ricardo's pupils shook. He whipped his head toward the scales. Kiiik—. They moved. Now Beatrice's side was heavier.
One minute to go.
"I never imagined you'd corner me with just two arguments."
Ricardo wiped beads of cold sweat and reached out.
"Time for cleaning. Servants!"
-When it gets a little disadvantageous for them, they'll pull a trick. Probably send ghosts to attack the other knights. Hold out as long as you can.
"Everyone—form up!"
Hyter shouted, taking the front.
"Don't let them near Beatrice—!"
The apprentice knights desperately blocked the ghosts swarming toward the door.
-An appropriate-grade dungeon is something you can clear on your own. Trust your comrades, Beatrice.
The clamor of clashing weapons filled the air.
"Oh? You're afraid. Even as your comrades fight without your help, does a fearful heart like yours outweigh mine?"
Beatrice closed her eyes and kept repeating Sisilia's words to herself.
So far, everything's gone exactly as Sisilia predicted. It's almost miraculous. Is this what it means to be in the Windsor Knight Order?
Trust my comrades. Trust Sisilia.
With renewed resolve, Beatrice opened her eyes.
"No. I trust my comrades."
The scales remained tilted toward her.
"...!"
I-Impossible. Yesterday, I could feel this human's fear so clearly. Now... nothing.
The demon's plan to lighten her heart using that fear had failed.
Only about 30 seconds left. I have to shatter her logic somehow.
"...I admit your claim. Yes, I falsified the dungeon's grade."
Admission. And then.
"I sincerely apologize and readjust the dungeon's difficulty."
Rectification. The 'fraud' Beatrice had accused him of was diluted.
"From now on, as a 'difficult'-grade dungeon master, I'll treat you accordingly."
-And Beatrice.
'It's never that simple.'
Beatrice stood calmly. The scales tilted back toward Ricardo, but she ignored it.
-If they still thrash around after all that, call for me.
Beatrice clenched her fist. There was clearly a contract—why had Sisilia left those words? It hadn't been long, but time with Sisilia had taught her one thing: her words always carried meaning. This time was no different.
Sisilia can't move because of the contract. But—
That only applied to 'this round.' The moment the dungeon's difficulty rose, it became a 'new round.' That was Beatrice's conclusion.
Sisilia had aimed for this from the start.
"Sisilia! The dungeon's difficulty has increased!"
Beatrice's shout echoed to the ceiling. The apprentice knights, startled by the yell, looked toward Sisilia.
"Haha, a novel desperation."
But—the scales didn't move. Sisilia didn't come.
"Ding—"
Ricardo sighed in relief, dabbing sweat with a handkerchief.
"One minute's up. That was close."
Beatrice panicked. This wasn't it? Then... am I... going to die?
"Finally, fear. Delicious, so very delicious. Now, time to claim the promised price."
As Ricardo's hand reached for Beatrice's heart.
"That's far enough."
A clear, girlish voice rang through the room. Beatrice's face lit up.
"I acknowledge the dungeon level has risen from appropriate to difficult."
Sisilia strolled in with a languid expression.
"I've judged it exceeds apprentice knight capabilities. From here, Sisilia of the Windsor Knight Order takes over."
Ricardo sneered.
"Don't tell me you think a difficulty change starts a 'new round' or some—"
Schwick—!
Ricardo felt a warm breeze graze his throat. Instinctively, he touched it.
But he couldn't. His hand wouldn't move.
His throat had already been severed—and was now in Sisilia's grasp.
"H-How? The c-contract should still be in effect..."
Sisilia lifted the demon's head. Then, with a faint smile, she slowly—very slowly—brought a finger to her lips.
Shh—.
Ricardo paled in overwhelming terror.