Chapter 114
Chapter 114
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 114
Chapter Title: The Pathetic Boss
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8
“As expected, it was nothing much.”
I picked up the demon sword that had fallen to the ground.
Next to it lay May, her eyes spinning in their sockets.
Taking down May had truly been a piece of cake.
I’d simply thrown Deathwise in its sheath and nailed her with it.
Even if she could freely manipulate the room through a combination of barriers and magic, it was nothing more than a crude imitation of dimensional magic.
Not only was it not on the same level, but no matter how much May tinkered with the room, it couldn’t hold a candle to dimensional magic’s direct interference with the dimension itself.
So I tossed the demon sword, swapped the coordinates, and struck her right in the back of the neck.
May, who had so generously allowed a textbook backstab, passed out on the spot.
This was easily the easiest villain I’d faced so far.
-Tsk, you should’ve struggled more. What luck, running into such an easy opponent.
“Luck’s part of skill, isn’t it? I’ve suffered plenty from all the villains I’ve met up till now.”
Lately, they’d been dropping like flies every fight, so it was nice to wrap one up easily for a change.
If they kept keeling over like that nonstop, my body wouldn’t hold up.
-Quiet! You didn’t gain any new insights, nor test your newly learned techniques! Stagnation means no growth. How do you expect to improve if you rely on this dumb luck?!
Alright, that’s enough.
I could test the new techniques next time. I was growing plenty already anyway.
-Tch, it’s infuriating how you’re not wrong… Fine. Then hurry up and find the next opponent!
“I’d love to move, but… I have no idea where we are.”
I’d checked out the dollhouse May had.
But it was so tiny that I couldn’t tell the original layout, let alone where I was.
For now, behind me was a dead end.
Keep going straight ahead, and another path should appear eventually.
No clue which floor I was on… but the goal was the top floor anyway.
Somehow, I just had to climb up.
-All that know-it-all attitude usually, but clueless now? Ha!
“You’re awfully chatty today?”
Ignoring Deathwise, who was chattering like a celebrity finally getting some screen time after ages and desperate to milk it, I started walking.
9
Meanwhile, somewhere in the Vipera headquarters.
In a decagonal room with ten doors, Page swung her sword.
Longsword and shield—the classic knight combo—produced attacks that were ruthlessly thorough.
She blocked enemy strikes with her shield while steadily pressing with her sword.
Simple and straightforward, but it relied heavily on the user’s proficiency.
Page’s skill was exceptionally high.
To guard the Third Prince at such a young age meant she was no pushover.
“Hmm, feels oddly familiar. Where have I seen this sword style before?”
But the lanky blond man facing her effortlessly parried every strike.
The blond man—Tobias—focused solely on deflecting, never counterattacking.
Even with openings for offense, he deliberately stayed defensive. His sword clung to hers lightly and flippantly, just like his speech, grating on the nerves.
“I remember every sword style I’ve faced. You hold that shield solidly, so not Arelvald school. No overwhelming momentum, so not Clverutis school either? Closer to basics but with a unique twist…”
Tobias’s nonstop babble disrupted the enemy’s focus.
But Page kept her mind locked entirely on the foe before her.
Tobias clicked his tongue at her rock-solid concentration, matching her thorough swordplay.
“Ah! I remember! That guy! The one who said basics are enough and pulled off insane feats! Oh yeah, he had a rare disciple. No kidding!”
Though no name was mentioned, Page reflexively furrowed her brow.
She knew only one man who swung a sword beyond common sense on fundamentals alone.
And mentions of her master from others were usually bad news.
“Hey, what a mess. Your master ran off like that. Must be embarrassing to call yourself his disciple.”
“Shut up.”
“Aha~ Finally opened your mouth! Hate it when people trash your master? But what can you do? I’m just thrilled to run into someone who knows him after so long!”
Tobias grinned slyly and kept yapping.
His ceaseless lips and frivolously light voice buzzed around Page’s mind like a midnight mosquito.
“This is friendly advice, but that guy didn’t die, right? Heard he got a whole village killed because of him. Family included, of course. Knew it’d happen. Should’ve lived quietly and died quietly, but he went out spreading misery.”
Page showed no big reaction to news of her master’s death.
But it wasn’t entirely ineffective.
Tobias drove in the wedge with a vile smirk.
“Oh, and recently someone told me his son’s alive. You know? Doesn’t matter if not. I do. Surrender nicely or die by my hand, and I might tell you. Deal?”
Her master’s son was alive.
To a knight—especially a rigid one like Page—a master was like family.
The one who taught the sword you’d wield for life became part of you, in some form.
That man was dead, yet his son lived.
Page had no choice but to react.
“Fine.”
And she did.
Short reply as she lowered her shield and poured momentum into her sword.
“I know.”
Her sword sped up.
Tobias tried to deflect, but couldn’t handle the sudden burst.
To break an unbreakable wall? Simple.
Pound it till it crumbles.
Recalling her master’s golden teachings, Page swung even fiercer.
“W-Wait! You know!? How…!”
“Not your concern.”
The unblocked sword carved a deep gash into Tobias’s flesh.
Amid the spraying blood, Tobias—unable to parry anymore—tried to retreat in a panic, but Page wouldn’t allow even that.
She stuck relentlessly, whittling him down.
Her sword wasn’t just thorough and solid—it was tenacious.
Overlooking that, Tobias fainted without another chance to wag his clever tongue.
No need to take his life.
Page flicked blood off her sword and checked all ten doors.
Nine were fakes; one was real.
She entered the only open door and walked the long corridor.
At the end, two massive doors loomed, with paths branching left and right.
“See? Everyone went this way.”
Theo Agrit emerged from the right path, casually slinging his pitch-black sword over his shoulder.
“My judgment was spot on.”
“Strictly speaking, it wasn’t your judgment.”
“I suggested the interrogation.”
“Ugh, seriously!”
Kyriakos and Louis Lefersha appeared from the left, bickering in that ambiguous good-bad relationship of theirs.
“Everyone seems fine. Wasted some time finding the way… but hey, whether crooked path or straight, as long as we arrive.”
“Crooked… what?”
Louis tilted his head at the unfamiliar phrase.
Theo rolled his eyes and shook his head like it was nothing.
“Anyway, beyond here is where the Vipera boss, Maximilian, is holed up. Let’s go in.”
Theo placed his hand on the doorknob, speaking breezily and calmly for a boss room.
At that moment, Page impulsively parted her lips.
“Young Master Theo Agrit.”
“Yes? Why do you call?”
Unaware of her turmoil, Theo asked calmly.
Facing him, Page lost her words.
No, she’d had none from the start.
Tobias’s ravings about her master had just rattled her.
Her master had died long ago, but his son survived.
She’d met the son once before.
Theo Agrit had been there too, so she’d called out on impulse.
But she had nothing to say—and wasn’t sure if she should.
Was it right to ask now about the master’s son, using the Hilfenberg name?
What would she even do if she asked?
Page wasn’t uninvolved in her master’s death.
She didn’t know how to face his son.
In the end, she shook her head.
“It’s nothing.”
Coincidentally, she’d faced Leon Hilfenberg at the festival last time.
Fate and chance would bring them together again someday.
Until then, sort out what to say—and what not to.
Oblivious to Page’s resolve, Theo shrugged and pulled the doorknob.
10
Vipera headquarters, top floor.
Maximilian’s room—worthy of the title boss room—was utterly opulent.
Far too lavish for a back-alley hideout, it was spacious.
Walls adorned with paintings and pricey porcelain.
Glass display cases crammed with fancy silver platters and artisanal cutlery.
The showstoppers: a liquor cabinet and a humidor stocked with cigars.
“Smells like cigars… but no sign of anyone.”
Louis sniffed and scanned the room.
Besides us, it was empty.
Just a half-smoked cigar on the desk.
“Looks like he was smoking and fled.”
Page tilted her head too.
Only Kyriakos gripped his sword hilt, quietly radiating bloodlust.
“No, Maximilian’s in this room. Everyone, stay sharp.”
At his words, Page drew her sword, Louis opened his grimoire.
Good, they were on high alert.
Vipera’s boss, Maximilian, could completely hide his presence.
I’d scanned the room with dimensional magic experimentally, but got no reactions beyond objects.
Near-perfect stealth, impossible to detect normally… but not entirely unfindable.
First, I smashed a porcelain piece with Deathwise.
Not slicing—just whacking it into glittering shards flying everywhere.
-Whoa, is this how you relieve stress?
The demon sword sounded oddly concerned.
Well, there are places to smash stuff for stress relief.
Not my intent, but… might as well.
“Hey… what’s up all of a sudden? You okay?”
“I’m fine. This actually feels pretty good.”
Smashed porcelain, shattered display cases, liquor bottles into more bottles, doused cigars with whiskey till everything was soaked.
Smashing onward.
Ahh, wrecking it all feels so refreshing.
Frankly, considering the peace these bastards stole from me, smashing junk was letting them off light.
Swinging Deathwise happily at a chair next—before it even touched, the chair toppled on its own.
“Didn’t that just fall by itself?”
“I saw it clearly.”
“Yes, looked like it fell alone to me too.”
The group murmured at the eerie sight.
Bingo. I whistled inwardly and lowered my voice deliberately.
“Get up.”
The chair tried to play innocent now.
I slammed Deathwise down with a thud and added,
“Giving you three seconds. Three, two…”
One.
Right before the final count, the chair turned into a man.
A middle-aged man with swept-back hair half-covering his forehead.
Thick brows gave a rugged impression, accentuated by a horizontal scar across his cheek.
Most striking: his eyes.
Gray gaze heavy with intimidation.
In different circumstances, it might’ve tensed me up on sight.
But the situation sucked.
Fresh from chair form, Maximilian was prostrated—hands and knees on the ground.
No posture commanded fear like that.
Worst criminal ruling Eseth back alleys, but his power was just perfect object mimicry… Broken World’s weakest boss.
This was Vipera’s boss, Maximilian.
Made reaching here a slog, but victory was sealed ages ago upon entering.
What a pain.
A weird annoyance bubbled up, and I laid it all bare.
“Anyway… bad deeds mean punishment, right?”
I grinned as I said it, and Maximilian’s face twitched into an awkward smile.