Facing the Fruits of Choice (10)
Even with an exhausted body, he had forced his way through the sewers without much trouble. Now there was no injury penalty and his fatigue had been wiped clean.
On top of that, leveling up had raised his stats a fair amount. So, in all likelihood—
Even if he couldn’t expect any combat boost from skills—he had prioritized healing skills because he never wanted to suffer through injuries again—this was more than enough either way.
He advanced through the sewers with ease.
“A human….”
“That’s the Demon Knight….”
“Are all the Iron Shields like that?”
Granted, he was fairly strong, but this still felt far too easy. They had dragged their feet claiming a manpower shortage—exactly how short on people had they been?
At this point he was starting to wonder if they had deliberately left the place alone just so they could work the players to the bone. Then again, what game didn’t?
“Ugh, the smell.”
That was when Dev, who had cheerfully followed him all the way into the sewers, pinched his nose. He hadn’t complained once until the job was done; the timing of his griping was almost professional.
Why he had come along when he clearly knew it would be like this remained a mystery, though.
“Are you all right, milord?”
Of course he wasn’t. Dev had at least stayed in the rear; he had been fighting on the front line, filth splattering all over his clothes. If the garments hadn’t come with an auto-laundry function, he would have been shuddering right about now.
“You did nothing and yet you dare whine over a mere stench? Amusing.”
“And what exactly did you do, then?”
“What did you just say?”
You lot fight. I’m leaving.
Being able to endure something without showing it and actually wanting to stay in a place were two different things, so he turned on his heel at once. He had already confirmed by every means available that not a single demon remained; there was no reason to linger.
His clothes, which had been fouled and then cleaned themselves again, fluttered as he walked.
“Right, I’ve always been curious—where did you get those clothes? Ah, no need to answer if you’d rather not. I only asked because the high-tier auto-restoration magic on them is fascinating.”
He glanced over at the question without thinking. Just items he’d gotten from the Deluxe Edition, and this counted as high-tier magic? This?
“Come to think of it, you carry quite a few strange things. That space-expansion bag of yours as well….”
The starter gear options had turned out better than expected, and he had kept them to maintain the concept image. He’d planned to switch the moment something that looked cooler and had better stats showed up.
But the way the Archmage spoke, it sounded as if only the starter items came with auto-wash and repair. Or at least that shop-bought gear wouldn’t have those functions.
“…How many times must I tell you to mind your own business?”
He snarled the words while, inwardly, clutching his head.
If that were true, he could never switch. Auto-laundry ranked higher than coolness; it was convenience priority number one.
“I’ve spoken nonsense. Let us be off.”
Having dropped that bombshell, the Archmage trotted off toward the exit.
Better to know now than get blindsided later, yet the sight of that retreating back still irritated him. The price of being the one who delivered such an excessive truth.
“…But the one who walks with me is me. Not you.”
“That is…!”
And those two were still bickering. Couldn’t they see the priests’ respect for the Hero evaporating?
“I cannot understand it to begin with. Why follow us all the way into the sewers?”
Not that the quarrel had been entirely useless. The Inquisitor asked the very question he had wanted to ask.
“…….”
Dev clamped his mouth shut. The sewers fell silent in an instant.
“Ah, come to think of it, Inquisitor. I never mentioned this to you.”
No—the silence broke as the Archmage, walking ahead, turned back. Her silver mane, softly lit by the lantern, glittered especially brightly.
“What do you say to that young man as our next companion?”
“Excuse me?!”
Dev had looked so awkward a fit for joining that he had wondered how it would play out—and this was how they solved it?
“W-w-what—”
“M-me? You’re talking about me right now?”
Yet both the Inquisitor and Dev short-circuited at the Archmage’s proposal. Since both were trailing behind he couldn’t see their faces, but their voices alone made it clear they doubted their own ears.
“Indeed. Provided, of course, that he himself agrees.”
“I oppose it! What help could this man possibly be…!”
“More help than you, at least.”
“You—!”
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“Y-you little…!”
Around then he felt a premonition close to foresight.
That, that right there. They would get heated and end up half-heartedly joining through sheer momentum. He had seen the pattern often enough—not only in fiction but in real life.
“Inquisitor. Set personal feelings aside and think. How many matters were resolved thanks to him this time? How outstanding was his performance?”
“Th-that is….”
It wasn’t something he needed to worry about, so he simply picked up his pace.
Whether Dev joined the party or not, there was nothing he could do about it. Even if the man joined, the concept would keep him from treating him well.
“I made the same offer to you for the same reason. Our goal is to drive the demons from this land, yet the path will be fraught with hardship and trial. If someone with eyes that pierce the truth and the skill to uncover what is hidden walks with us, it will surely be of great help.”
“P-praising me like that is a bit much….”
“Of course, this journey offers no guarantee of safety—not even of life—so I will not force you. Still, I doubt we will meet another talent like you again. Will you not, for this old man’s sake if nothing else, give it careful thought?”
Listening with half an ear as the sly sage gently coaxed Dev with words, he pressed on through the sewers. Despite the time spent exploring, the exit came into view almost at once.
“…Demon Knight. Do you also believe we need him?”
Just as they reached the end of the sewers, the Inquisitor approached with a dejected face and asked. It was an awkward question.
Whoever joined, his concept meant he wouldn’t care. Of course, the timing was right to start finding the two of them—with their excessive goodwill—annoying. Strictly speaking, the timing when pushing them away and watching them refuse to leave would make him impatient.
“I have no interest.”
Aware that Dev was listening from behind, he chose lines that fit the concept.
“If he becomes a hindrance to killing demons, I will simply discard him.”
Ssssss. This improvised line was a flop. Way too cringey.
After finishing the purification, they returned to the temple and took a brief rest. “Rest” mainly meant being told to wash off the filth, but still.
“By the way, Inquisitor. You previously suggested heading to the Huosta region. In my view, the Forzen region would be better than Huosta.”
After washing came a somewhat late lunch. He shoved salad into his mouth and quietly listened to the Archmage’s remarks.
“Forzen… the southwest, you mean?”
“Yes.”
The Archmage, who had finished eating first among them—despite the Shagi race’s not-exactly-small appetites—slowly laid out the grounds for his suggestion.
“Unsettling rumors have been circulating there, and… we still need more companions. Even if that young man joins us, four is not enough.”
“I haven’t decided yet, though.”
“Then we need them all the more.”
The Inquisitor shot Dev a glare. Dev didn’t even register the look.
“Above all, I have judged that Huosta is too dangerous in our current state.”
“Why is that?”
“Because of this very incident. Inquisitor. Do you truly believe those despicable demon worshippers staged this merely to bring down a single city?”
“……!”
He had already heard the reasoning earlier, so that part was irrelevant. Where was Huosta, and why was it dangerous?
Even combing through the hazy original settings yielded no guess. He was not clever enough to remember the map of a decades-old game.
“The reason the Inquisitor wishes to go to Huosta is ultimately to lend a hand at the Northern Front there, is it not? Yet the Northern Front is the place closest to the Demon King’s Castle where Satan resides. If we go there now, we may well become targets once more.”
What was the Northern Front, and where was the Demon King’s Castle?
He studied the map they had laid out, reading the room. Unlike the fog-shrouded world map, it at least sketched the rough shape of the world.
A largely circular continent, with the black-painted Demon Realm marked at its very center, drew the eye especially.
The boundary lines encircling the Demon Realm, and the name “Front Lines” attached to them.
Of those, Huosta lay directly above the Demon Realm, while Forzen sat precisely to the west.
“But by that logic, every other region is the same, is it not? If one approaches the front lines, nowhere is free of danger.”
“There is a vast difference between distances at which Satan can send his armies directly and those at which he cannot. Moreover, the recent incident will have greatly reduced the number of Satan worshippers scattered across the continent. Unless we go somewhere the Demon King himself would bother to intervene, they will lack the strength to target us.”
“That is….”
“If we assume they still have the strength, we should head even farther west—so that, if necessary, we can receive aid from the Great Temple.”
“…….”
The Archmage’s argument was structured and sound enough. As the Inquisitor looked regretful, he himself realized quite a few things.
In other words, this was ultimately setup to make them circle the continent west–south–east–north before finally hitting the Demon Realm, wasn’t it?
“I admit that relying on the Great Temple’s aid may sit poorly with you. Yet Inquisitor—have you not realized from this incident? That you still need more experience and wisdom.”
“…That is true. Yes. The Sage is right. I… still lack so much. In my current state I would be of little real help even if I went to the Northern Front.”
There was just one major problem right now.
Having learned this setting, he had also learned that a critical flaw had appeared in his concept.
Two Steps Toward Subjugating the Demon King
Whether the main quest updated in response to the Inquisitor’s acceptance or not, he grew grave.
After all, a man who hated demons so much he disregarded even his own life knowing about the Demon Realm and still not going there was already strange!
No—the fact that he hadn’t gone already meant it was ruined!
“This is also for your sake.”
H-how was he supposed to cover this? What setting could paper over this error!
Just as he prepared to seriously ponder, the Archmage looked at him and spoke.
“I know these words may touch a sensitive matter. Still, it will be better for all of us if we settle it clearly before we leave.”
That tone somehow felt like it might either save him or cast him into the abyss.
Reflexively he clenched his fist tight.
“While considering our next destination, a question arose. Why has one who so hates demons never gone to the Northern Front? No—not only the Northern Front. You are the sort who would refuse no place so long as it was the very front lines.”
Here? Like this? Pinpointing the concept error? This was just the inevitable game-specific progression getting tangled with his setting…!
“And yet you wander the rear….”
Surely they weren’t about to call it character collapse and start suspecting him of being a demon again—
“Because you are Gretchen, I suppose.”
Huh?
“You need not wonder how I know. In Somon, a demon contractor called you Gretchen, did he not?”
At the sudden appearance of the word, he twisted his face further. At the same time his mind raced at full speed.
He had no idea what it meant, but information that could cover his setting error was about to come out…!
“During the two weeks you slept, I contacted the Magic Tower and received related materials. As a result, I discovered the same name appearing in ancient documents.”
He gripped his weapon with his right arm and seized that right arm with his left. Depending on what came next, his fate would be decided.
“Among the Seven Great Demons, the one offered as tribute to ‘Wrath,’ or the one who possesses ‘Wrath’—Gretchen.”
“……!”
“W-what….”
Why the two dumpling-faced ones looked more shocked than he did when it was his own business was beyond him, but he focused on the next words.
He desperately studied the Archmage’s demeanor; no hostility showed. Then whatever followed would likely work in his favor.
“A Great Demon is practically a direct subordinate of Satan. Ah, do not worry. I do not regard you as a demon’s servant. However… is that not the point you were wary of? That entering Satan’s domain would amplify that presence’s influence, that the demon’s power you have been suppressing could grow stronger than it is now. That the chance of the demon in your right arm running wild would rise.”
That was the perfect excuse to cover the setting error.
Looking at the man who managed to be both enemy and benefactor at once, he felt a surge of emotion.
If only you people hadn’t forced the concept from the start, I wouldn’t have had to ride this roller coaster of joy and despair…!
“…And what is your intent in speaking that aloud?”
Still, the act had to continue. He didn’t want to get team-killed. Sob.
“Have you decided I must be killed?”
“Do not misunderstand. How could that be?”
Judging by the Archmage’s tone, things seemed to be turning out rather well—
“It is simply this. Since we cannot enter the front lines at once anyway, we might use that time to prepare a means of sealing the demon in your arm, or something of the sort. What do you say to that possibility?”
—No, this wasn’t just “well”; this was the original job-change branch. In the original, the Demon Knight’s advancement split into two paths depending on whether the seal was applied.
They said the job-change system was gone—had it been folded into the story?
“If I have offended you, I apologize. But Demon Knight. You cannot continue like this forever, can you?”
Yet the situation was too poor for him to sink into that point and start theorizing.
He spun his thoughts rapidly and showed the reaction he judged most fitting.
“How dare you… with that loose mouth of yours…!”
Ah, his concept was that he hated himself so much he would refuse even a chance to improve.
KWAANG!
He drew his sword and, not content with splitting the dining table, unleashed a Chamgyeok. Black energy scraped past the seat beside the Archmage.
The noise clawed through the air, leaving only faint breaths in its wake.
“Milord….”
But when it came to following up with words, no lines came to mind. Reusing the previous ones felt wrong, too.
And whether he even had to speak at all depended on interpretation.
Kwang!
So he simply decided to leave the dining hall.
After all, wasn’t the setting that he had abandoned even his name and fled from the past? He could flee this time as well.
The one thing this setting could never tolerate was his own happiness.
Kwang!
Deathbringer stared at the empty seat of the Demon Knight, who had finally stormed out of the dining hall after that shocking conversation.
“So that’s why he was so extreme….”
The remarks about demons and such on the morning they left Somon for Tatara. The reason the energy wrapping his sword was such an ominous black. Why holy power, so merciful to everyone else, only made him cough up blood. Why that soft fellow had all but monopolized the nursing and wrapped bandage after bandage only around the Demon Knight’s right arm.
Now he understood. No—he fully grasped it.
“There was a demon in his arm….”
If that was the reason, who wouldn’t have done the same?
“He is a strong man.”
“…What?”
“Even if a demon is sealed in that arm, do not treat him as a demon.”
“What kind of bullshit….”
Deathbringer started to retort on reflex, then trailed off. When he had realized there was a demon in the Demon Knight’s arm, had he truly felt no revulsion?
“…….”
At the same time, the image from two weeks ago rose unbidden—how, even while being swallowed by a demon, the man had prioritized the demon’s salvation over his own life.
I simply cannot tolerate the existence of the pests that gnaw at the world.
Words that had merely moved him when he heard them, yet now, looking back, had bones in them.
“Ah, shit….”
What feelings he lived with, what heart he had spoken those words from—there was no way to measure it. Yet in place of contempt and rejection behind the lack of understanding, only admiration and lament rushed in.
If he himself had been in the Demon Knight’s position, he could never have acted like that.
“…Hey.”
And so Deathbringer opened his mouth half on impulse. Even knowing it was a choice he would regret, he couldn’t help it.
“Do you… really think I’d be of help?”
Impulsive decisions were the privilege of the young.