Direct Train to the Demon King's Castle (2)

The passengers erupted in murmurs.

"The Demon King's Castle?"

"What the hell is going on?"

"Did the Queen pull another prank?"

Beatrice glanced around in panic, then turned to Sisilia.

"Sisilia! Th-that thing just now...!"

Sisilia sat perfectly still, utterly composed. As if this was just another day at the office.

She's the real deal, alright.

Completely unfazed by something like this? A true embodiment of calm, befitting the mascot of the unrivaled Windsor Knights—the Sword Princess.

Thanks to her, Beatrice steadied herself too.

Of course.

I-I-I let my guard down.

Sisilia was, in fact, the most flustered person in the car. No—this was insane. The Demon King's Castle? Really?

"Betty. Keep everyone here safe. I'm heading to the engine room."

Business first. Leave this to Beatrice and gather intel.

The whole train's turned into a dungeon, looks like. Cutting off supply lines, maybe?

At minimum, protect the people here. You could build another train, but not another life.

Best case: Stop the dungeonization before it fully sets in.

Sisilia hurried to the door. But it wouldn't budge.

Smash it.

She slammed her shoulder into it.

THUD!

A massive boom echoed, but the door held firm.

"Sisilia!"

"Yeah."

"Th-the wall's cracking...!"

Beatrice pointed anxiously. A huge fissure spiderwebbed across it.

"...No damaging property, huh."

Even simple destruction could risk dismantling the entire train. Sisilia gave up on forcing the door.

If it fell apart here, Beatrice might survive—but everyone else? Dead.

"Knight, ma'am... We're okay, right?"

"Waaah! Waaah!"

A nearby mother smiled awkwardly as her child wailed, sensing doom. The other passengers looked just as uneasy.

"No issues at all. Sisilia Windsor, the kingdom's top beauty. Zero civilian casualties in every mission I've ever handled."

"Ooooh!"

"The Sword Princess lives up to her name!"

Sisilia returned to her seat with her usual blank expression, demure as ever. The sight of the unflappable Sword Princess brought massive relief to the car.

Of course, sweat already slicked the back of Sisilia's neck.

Wh-what do I do?

She'd pulled off the "I've got this" act without a hitch. But this was way more dangerous than imagined.

No property damage. Physical force restricted. Movement limited.

The magic engineering train had 12 cars. At least 10 people per car—that's 120 lives. And first class was packed with nobles. One death, and it's a catastrophe.

My perfect record...!

How had she maintained that flawless career? This could be a massive stain if mishandled.

A crisis for the ages!

Right. Smart Betty's gotta have a solution.

Betty had read the Newbie Guidebook. Her knowledge matched Sisilia's!

Time to lean on her this once.

"Thank goodness you're here, Sisilia. If I'd gotten caught in this alone... Whew, just thinking about it makes me dizzy."

"......"

Sisilia shot Beatrice a glare. She grabbed her cheeks and yanked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hard.

"Wh-why are you doing thiiiis? It huuuurts...!"

"Betty needs discipline. Arm."

Sisilia chomped down on her arm, stress melting away as calm returned.

"Tasty."

"I'm not portable rations...!"

Beatrice rubbed her bite-marked arm, eyes brimming with tears. Maybe because Betty tasted so good, Sisilia's brain kicked back into gear.

She half-drew the sword at her side and muttered.

"Tempest."

RUMBLE-RUMBLE-CRASH!

"Whoa! Mommy, look at that!"

"Twin tornadoes? So cool~ Even on a warm day in the capital, typhoons hit."

"Oh dear... Forgot my raincoat. What a pickle."

A typhoon raged from a clear sky. Beatrice's jaw dropped mid-sob.

"Did you do that, Sisilia...?"

"Distress signal. No demon presence here."

It's a decoy.

Only named demons could dungeonize anywhere. The bigger the presence, the harder to hide it. If even Sisilia couldn't sense it, no demons on board.

Just maintaining the dungeon shell while the real body targeted elsewhere. Probably supplies. Set those ablaze?

If warned ahead, Lude would handle it. Trust him there.

"We wait. Announcement's coming."

"Announcement?"

"Yeah. Demons must disclose dungeon rules. Remember that."

"No dungeon's unclearable."

Sisilia resolved to clear this straight-up. No other options visible now, anyway.

Dungeon-making demons always prepared a "perfect solution." It empowered the rules—and their pride.

CREEEAK—

"Guh...!"

"Hngh."

The door opened. In stepped a conductor.

Head tucked under his arm. A dullahan.

"Sir? Your ticket, please?"

The dullahan smiled brightly. Blood dripped from the neck onto the head in his grasp, eyes blinking nonstop.

The terrified man trembled, glancing back. Beatrice, radiating killing intent, was seconds from drawing.

"Not yet."

Sisilia flicked Beatrice's sword back with her hand.

"H-here...!"

The man fumbled out his magic engineering train ticket. The dullahan took it politely, scrutinizing it.

"This says destination: Northern Command. This train has one stop. The Demon King's Castle."

"It changed suddenly! This was legit before."

"Then get off and catch another."

"F-fine. Let me off at the next station."

"Sorry, no exit doors on this train. Anyway, conclusion: No ticket."

The dullahan grinned. The man stood, pleading to Sisilia.

"H-help! You're Windsor, right? You can kill a puny demon like this easy!"

"Oh my... Not content with no ticket, now threatening the conductor?"

"...!"

Sisilia scanned the car with bored eyes. Passengers' gazes burned red.

"That's too much."

"Indeed. How heartless."

"Riding without a ticket's bad enough—now intimidation? Tsk tsk."

"What're the Windsor Knights doing? Kill the scoundrel already."

Main authority: hallucination.

A headache. These types knew their weakness—never fought head-on. Worst case: Mind-control civilians to attack.

Directly against Sisilia's motto: Minimize casualties. This demon had to go.

"Betty. Listen close from now. No mistakes... or."

Sisilia started explaining to Beatrice.

"Sisilia, that's harsh. How could he bully such an innocent conductor?"

"......"

Beatrice's eyes glowed red too. Sisilia's lips twitched.

She slapped her head.

SMACK!

A thunderous crack(?), and Beatrice clutched her skull, doubling over.

"That's too much!"

Tears welled as she glared. Seeing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Sisilia's narrowed eyes, she flinched.

"Betty, you're so lame."

"Sorry..."

"We'll talk after."

No excuses, so Beatrice wept quietly.

"No ticket? Die then!"

"Yeah!"

"How dare he? Shameless!"

"Wh-what the...?"

The man panicked, shouting at the finger-pointing crowd.

"You don't have Demon King tickets either!"

"What?"

"Really?"

The dullahan turned. Its head eyed the crowd suspiciously.

"Such a fool! Why wouldn't we have tickets? Of course we do!"

"Thinks we're all bums like him?"

"Conductor! Check mine! Dispose of him quick—sharing air's disgusting!"

Everyone whipped out tickets. Sisilia snatched the one from the guy next to her.

"What're you—"

"Betty."

At Sisilia's sharp word, Beatrice swiftly chopped the civilian's neck, knocking him out.

"...That's the gimmick."

The ticket had changed. Sisilia whipped out pen and paper.

"Wh-what're you doing?"

"Writing the report."

"...Pardon?"

"Do it early. Or it gets annoying."

"Ah, right."

"Telling you 'cause you're Betty. Don't share these tips normally..."

"......"

"Betty. Check your ticket."

"Y-yes."

Beatrice pulled hers out—and her eyes widened.

"Demon King's Castle... it changed."

(Sisilia's hadn't.)

Flip side: Empty seats mean no deaths.

Most have "Demon King tickets" now.

"Stealing a fine passenger's ticket? Sorry, you're disposed too."

The dullahan loomed over report-writing Sisilia. Beatrice drew to swing—Sisilia kicked her shin.

Beatrice yelped, clutching it.

"Sir?"

No response. Dullahan twitched a brow. Sisilia kept scribbling.

Finished the "clear method," she smiled, satisfied.

"Betty, let's smash the dungeon core. Engine room."

"R-right. C-can I kill it now...?"

"No. Turns our clear item to ash."

"Excuse me, sir! I'm talking to—"

SLASH—!

The raging dullahan moved its arm. It wouldn't. Couldn't.

ROLL-ROLL.

Its head tumbled toward the bathroom. Straining to look up: Sisilia at the door, holding its arm.

"Doors need a dullahan arm."

"No way... How'd you know?"

"...Even a rat's IQ plus 50,000 couldn't miss it."

"So mean."

Sulky Beatrice. Sisilia grinned at the toppling man.

"Watermelon-head guy. Come too. Stay here, you die."

"Y-yes, ma'am!"

He snapped to and followed.