Do You Think the Seven Abyssal Palaces Are a Joke?
Inside the banquet hall, blue flames flickered along the walls, illuminating the space. Rather than providing proper light, they merely cast long, eerie shadows, heightening the naturally dreadful atmosphere.
Floating in the dim light were the level indicators of the gathered guests:
[Lv. 69][Lv. 71][Lv. 74][Lv. 78][Lv. 81][Lv. 86]
The emotions the crowd harbored toward me were strictly limited to terror, wariness, and hostility.
Rather than the colors of their emotions, I focused on the numbers of their levels. Anyone level 90 or higher would undoubtedly be a Lord of the Seven Abyssal Palaces.
...Wait, are there none?
I had prepared a thousand different ways to carry myself, yet not a single one of them was in sight. It was a relief, but at the same time, I felt strangely deflated.
Rumble.
Just then, Brion followed me in, quietly closing the heavy doors behind him. I turned my gaze to him and asked, "Where are the other Lords of the Seven Abyssal Palaces?"
"My deepest apologies, my Lord. The other Lords of the Abyss have only expressed their intention to attend the Roundtable Conference."
Even without an explanation, the reason was immediately clear.
The banquet was merely a social gathering for lesser Lords who needed to build factions and secure alliances. The auction was a business event held under the contract of the hosting merchant guild.
To the Lords of the Seven Abyssal Palaces, both were nothing but an utter waste of time.
So the Roundtable Conference is the real event.
The ultimate purpose of summoning the 72 Lords was the Roundtable. Besides that, a sense of elitism probably played a part. Why would the supreme Lords of the Seven Abyssal Palaces waste their time mingling with a bunch of low-tier rabble at a banquet? Something like that.
Regardless, I was the only Lord of the Seven Abyssal Palaces present in this hall.
As if being a person of interest wasn't enough, I was now the sole peak-tier powerhouse here. There was a very clear reason why everyone's attention was locked entirely on me instead of being divided.
I should have just skipped the banquet and only attended the conference too.
In hindsight, this was likely the merchant guild's calculation. I had heard from various sources that I was the star of this entire summit. From the guild's perspective, having me show my face at the banquet was the best-case scenario.
And since I hadn't asked when the other Abyssal Lords would arrive, the guild had no obligation to volunteer information I didn't request.
If I complain about it now, I'll just look petty.
It wasn't as if they had neglected their duties; they hadn't technically deceived me either. If anything, it was my own lack of thoroughness. I had walked right into a baitless trap like a fool.
But now that I had already stepped inside, there was no turning back.
With Charlotte and Balutak flanking me, I took a step deeper into the hall. Every eye in the room tracked my movement in perfect unison.
"Is that Death Knight the master of the new Abyssal Palace?"
"He doesn't look like much at first glance..."
"He is a Lord of the Seven Abyssal Palaces, fool. How could the likes of us possibly comprehend his power?"
"They say he slaughtered Wilhelm, the Hero of the Holy Sword. Should we go try to speak with him?"
"Count me out. How could I dare approach a Lord of the Abyss..."
Huddled in small groups, the owners of the orange and black level indicators stole glances at me. Among them, an elf holding a wine glass was trembling so violently the liquid sloshed over the rim.
Meanwhile, a group staring silently from the shadows caught my eye.
Their level indicators were all a faint, burning red.
Hostility.
Is that Gergoar's old faction? Or perhaps Calandas's?
If there was any silver lining, it was that I didn't sense any active bloodlust. Well, showing open bloodlust to a Lord of the Seven Abyssal Palaces would be suicidal anyway.
No matter where I looked, I couldn't spot a single trace of light green. I had hoped Rosesha's faction, who were friendly to me, would be different, but I was wrong.
Though, it made sense. Even if their faction leader held affection for me, the subordinates had never laid eyes on me. On top of that, they had just heard the news that I brutally executed the 21st Lord. It was only natural for them to be wary and terrified.
"Do not leave my side, either of you."
In this place, these two were the only ones I could truly trust.
"Kirik! Understood-dak!"
"Thank you for your concern, my Lord."
Actually, I said it because I was worried about myself, but whatever.
I had barely been inside for a minute when someone began walking toward me.
It was a fox beastman wearing a brilliant, elegant dress. Judging by the seven tails swaying behind her, she was a seven-tailed fox. She was flanked by a wolf and a fox beastman as her companions.
"Greetings to the esteemed new master of the Abyssal Palace."
The three of them bowed deeply in unison.
[Lv. 73]
A level 73 seven-tailed fox would place her somewhere in the Rank 20s. It was surprising that someone with a black level indicator, rather than a green one, had the courage to approach me.
"This humble one is Miho, the Lord of the 27th Palace."
Her intentions were transparent. She wanted to establish a connection with a Lord of the Seven Abyssal Palaces. Seven-tailed foxes, much like succubi, were masters of seduction. She probably held a sliver of hope—believing that with her beauty, she might be able to charm the new Abyssal Lord.
Unfortunately for her, not only was I a skeleton undead with zero libido, but I had also successfully resisted the temptations of Rosesha, who was leagues above her.
She must think I'm an easy target.
Exhaling a breath of freezing frost, I leaned my face close to hers.
Miho stiffened, her head jerking back in alarm. The black hue of her level indicator deepened, practically blending into the surrounding shadows.
"I-I apologize! I shall take my leave..."
I hadn't even uttered a single word, yet the beastmen scrambled away in a frantic panic.
The demonstration of my terrifying presence seemed to have worked perfectly, as no other Lords dared to approach me after that. Even those who had been staring openly now only stole fleeting side-glances, quickly averting their eyes the moment our gazes threatened to meet.
Now, what do I do?
Mingle with just anyone, and I'd only end up lowering my own value.
Just as I was contemplating whether I should just stand there and look menacing for the rest of the night—
Look at these guys.
The group with the red level indicators was still glaring at me, their eyes flashing in the dark. I suppose when you're in a group, you feel invincible.
They clearly believed they had a reliable shield, specifically the Troll Shaman standing right in the center of their pack.
[Lv. 86]
Based on his level alone, he was undoubtedly the Rank 8 Lord.
In the game timeline I knew, the Rank 8 Lord was a Twin-Headed Ogre, not a Troll. But since this was the past, it made sense that there were Lords I didn't recognize.
He's going to get subjugated soon anyway.
The fact that I didn't recognize him meant he was destined to fall in the near future. There was absolutely no reason to be intimidated by a faction whose leader was on death's door.
The moment I made up my mind, I glared back at him, my eyes burning with cold intensity.
An invisible, silent clash of wills erupted in the air between us.
Still, a question lingered in my mind. No matter how angry they were over the death of their faction member, maintaining such a hostile attitude in front of a Lord of the Seven Abyssal Palaces was borderline suicidal.
Did they have some hidden backing I didn't know about? Or was their faction far larger than I imagined?
"You there."
"Y-Yes, my Lord!"
I called out to a passing vampire Lord, stopping him in his tracks.
"Those ones over there. Is their faction particularly large?"
Startled by the sudden question, the vampire flustered for a moment before stammering out an answer.
"Th-they aren't exactly a massive independent faction, but rather... a subordinate faction."
"Subordinate?"
"Yes. I heard a rumor that they recently swore fealty to the Lord of the Decay Cave, the Lich King Calandas, who ranks fifth..."
So that was it.
Since Calandas's faction was already hostile toward me, their open animosity was merely a way to display solidarity within their alliance. It was highly unlikely they had joined his faction in the single day since I killed Gergoar.
The timing had simply aligned perfectly.
Fortunately for them, and unfortunately for me.
As the heavy silence settled over the hall, their whispered conversation drifted clearly to my ears.
"Lord Babayaga. There is no need to cause a scene here. Let us handle this at the Roundtable."
"Indeed. But the rumors were true after all. To think a Lord of the Seven Abyssal Palaces would employ a mere human as a deputy."
"She clearly doesn't know her place. She isn't even a half-demon, just a pure human... Is she trying to drag the dignity of the Abyssal Palaces through the mud?"
The Orc's snide remark grated heavily on my nerves.
I didn't even reach for my hilt.
Screeech!
The Holy Sword unsheathed itself, slicing through the air like a streak of golden lightning. It moved at a terrifying velocity that none of them could even react to.
The tip of the blade stopped a mere millimeter from the Orc's eye.
Thud!
Unable to process what had just happened, the Orc collapsed backward, landing pathetically on his rear.
I walked toward him with slow, deliberate steps.
The other Lords of his faction instinctively tensed, taking up defensive stances, but I couldn't care less.
Standing directly over him, I looked down as the Orc swallowed hard, his face pale with terror.
"Your rank and name."
"W-What?"
"I told you to state your rank and name."
"...Rank 34, Brutalgrim."
Seeing his level was 68, I had a rough idea. A mere Rank 34 dared to insult the Abyssal Palaces. I suppose having the Rank 5 Lord as his backing gave him a false sense of courage.
"I shall remember that. Out of respect for this venue, I will let it slide this once."
"...."
"But the next time you open your mouth, be prepared to have your tongue ripped out. Do you understand?"
"Y-Yes, yes! It won't happen again..."
I recalled the Holy Sword, sheathing it back into its scabbard, and cast a cold glance at the faction leader, Babayaga.
The Troll Shaman stood frozen, his jaw slightly slack. Even if I was a Lord of the Seven Abyssal Palaces, he clearly hadn't expected me to act so ruthlessly and without hesitation in a public setting.
You guys are going to perish soon anyway. And even if you weren't, I would have done the same. You should have watched your mouth.
Since this was a social gathering, resorting to actual physical violence would only harm my reputation. They undoubtedly thought the same.
For now, they would swallow their grievances and prepare to unleash their fury at the Roundtable Conference.
With other Abyssal Lords present, they would likely try to use them—especially Calandas—to politically corner me.
But since I had already formulated countermeasures for that scenario, I wasn't particularly worried.
As I walked back, Charlotte spoke in a quiet, downcast voice.
"My deepest apologies, my Lord. It seems I am only causing unnecessary conflict for you..."
"It does not matter."
Letting Charlotte be insulted and using that as a pretext to display my absolute authority was a scenario I had already anticipated. It didn't bother me in the slightest.
To the onlookers, I might have seemed like a reckless madman, but they were far more likely to view me as a ruthless tyrant.
There was a paper-thin line between a madman and a tyrant, but the difference in the weight of their presence was astronomical.
Still, that bastard Calandas.
I could guess his motive for expanding his subordinate faction. It was me.
Or more specifically, my awakened Holy Sword. He was likely expanding his influence to keep me in check.
Since things had escalated to this point, I needed to seriously consider aligning myself with Rosesha's faction. Beyond just allies connected through a faction, I needed to establish direct, personal relationships with other Lords to truly put my mind at ease.
In fact, that was the primary reason I had bothered to attend this banquet in the first place.
I need to network with the promising lower-tier dungeon Lords.
I remembered every single Lord in the 72 Dungeons who possessed immense latent potential.
How did I know their potential?
The rankings of the 72 Dungeons were highly volatile, with constant shifts occurring in the lower ranks. To study this in detail, I had once kept a separate game save slot completely untouched, leaving the dungeons to progress naturally.
By observing the natural ranking fluctuations over a vast period of time, I was able to identify which Lords possessed true potential—like a dungeon that started at Rank 50 but eventually climbed all the way to the Rank 30s.
I hadn't spent 30,000 hours on this game for nothing. I had tried every bizarre experiment imaginable in the 72 Dungeon Strategy Record.
Even though this was the past, it wasn't that far back. I was confident that the promising Lords I remembered would be here.
With a sense of anticipation, I scanned the hall.
Before long, my gaze locked onto a figure huddled in a far corner.
[Lv. 44]
It was an unbelievably low level for a Dungeon Lord.
And the color of her level indicator was a deeper, darker black than anyone else's in the room.
At first glance, she looked like a human girl who had barely reached adulthood. If not for the tiny horns protruding from the back of her head, I would have mistaken her for a human.
Because she was standing with her back to me, those small horns were highly visible despite her petite stature.
The half-demon, Estizel.
In truth, she was my number one target for recruitment.
Estizel was a legendary Lord who started at Rank 72 but eventually skyrocketed all the way to Rank 10. If I could bring her under my wing and protect her dungeon now, I would secure a future Rank 10 powerhouse as a fiercely loyal ally.
The only drawback was her half-demon status.
Approaching her would undoubtedly invite whispers that I was dragging down the dignity of the Seven Abyssal Palaces.
While future utility was important, maintaining my current reputation was also crucial. I needed to keep up appearances if I wanted Rosesha's faction to take me seriously.
I quickly ran the calculations in my head.
Was it worth enduring a bit of public ridicule to secure Estizel as an ally?
Currently, the Rank 8 Lord, Babayaga, was level 86. In comparison, at her peak, the single-unit Lord Estizel reached a staggering level 88.
Because her dungeon consisted of a single, all-powerful entity—herself.
And since all I need to do is win her favor, she'll be easy to handle.
A single-unit dungeon meant there were no complex hierarchies or rebellious subordinates to worry about. If I won her over, the entire dungeon was mine.
Besides, my own deputy is a human, so it's not like my reputation can get much worse.
Having made my decision, I began walking toward Estizel.
The pitch-black color of her level indicator was slightly concerning, but I figured a friendly approach would smooth things over.
As soon as I reached her, I placed a hand gently on her shoulder.
I felt a violent shudder ripple through her small frame.
Creak, creak.
Estizel turned around with stiff, mechanical movements, like a wooden doll.
The moment I saw her face, I froze in surprise.
Her face was completely smeared with tears and snot.
"P-please... just spare my life..."
Wait, what did I even do?!