Chapter 69
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 69
Erebos hastily fired his two remaining stakes. The projectiles shot toward Swallow’s body, one after the other.
Unlike before, when he had simply allowed the attacks to land, the ancient monster deflected both stakes with a single, powerful sweep of his leg.
Knocked off course, the stakes slammed into the ground far apart.
Meanwhile, a giant shackle erupted from the earth and clamped onto Swallow’s ankle. Seizing the opportunity, Maek—now swollen to a size rivaling Swallow’s—lunged forward.
In that exact instant, Swallow’s massive form compressed into a single point.
Its quarry suddenly gone, the shackle sank back into the earth and vanished without a trace.
Now in human form, Swallow plummeted from the sky. Eager to devour the compressed body, Maek opened his maw wide.
Through his fluttering black hair, Swallow’s eyes narrowed.
Only when he was within arm’s reach of Maek did Swallow revert to his true form.
He expanded, violently repelling everything around him.
Even Maek, despite his matching size, was helpless against the shockwave of Swallow's sudden expansion. Caught at point-blank range, he was instantly ensnared by an alien darkness, unable to break free.
Horrifying, blood-curdling screams echoed from within the darkness as Maek retched up the filth inside him. Any flesh that touched the darkness disintegrated, while the rest was torn away by Swallow’s violently expanding mass.
In a fraction of a second, Maek was torn to shreds and reduced to a sliver of his former size. Swallow devoured him whole in a single gulp.
It happened in the blink of an eye—so fast that anyone unable to track the movement would have thought Maek had simply vanished into thin air.
As if nothing had happened, Swallow leaped into the air, his massive body soaring upward.
He didn't even need to exert himself. A single leap was enough to bring him right before Erebos.
Just before his feet touched down, Swallow shifted back into his human form, landing gracefully before Erebos.
Taking a light step forward, Swallow glanced at Erebos’s magic circle, which was on the verge of activating, and flashed a faint, pale smile.
Immediately, the alien black energy radiating from Swallow’s body tangled violently with the magic circle’s mana, dissolving it into a dark, shimmering haze.
When the brief storm subsided, a gentle breeze blew through the settling silence.
At the highest point of the hill, only the bosses of the two Great Evil Caves remained.
“I guess you've given up on running.”
The emotionless voice drifted over the hill.
As if he hadn’t expected an answer in the first place, Swallow turned his head to look back.
On the hills where an undead army of over a hundred thousand had once stood, nothing remained but piles of corpses that would never rise again.
It was said that an army of the dead gathered wherever Erebos went. Was that why the monarch himself was considered a Great Evil Cave in his own right?
—Indeed.
“It's about time one of these Great Evil Caves was cleared out.”
Six tails erupted from behind Swallow, skewering Erebos's body through and through.
* * *
Sigh... This is seriously driving me crazy.
What on earth are you thinking, Boss?
Feeling the vibrations rattle the castle walls, Patrick looked out past the outer wall and let out a heavy groan.
Sticking his head out the window, he saw the exact nightmare he had envisioned. Though the distance obscured the details, he could clearly tell that massive, dark entities were clashing violently just outside the outer wall.
—And the problem was, they were doing it right outside the castle gates.
Ah, please, Boss, try to remember that you're a walking disaster and act accordingly.
They were fighting with such gusto that every thunderous impact shook the entire territory of Hastin.
It wouldn't have been so bad if the Veil were still intact to block the humans’ view, but Swallow had just spectacularly shattered it.
Clutching his throbbing skull, Patrick groaned in sheer stress. He wondered if the sensation of his skull cracking a little more each time this happened was just his imagination.
“What... is happening... out there?”
As he sighed again and again, Lara spoke up hesitantly. The constant tremors seemed to have pushed her anxiety to its limit.
“That... is the sound of the Undead Legion being dismantled.”
Though they seem to be trying to dismantle the territory's outer wall along with it.
“So... Hastin is being saved? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Well, something like that...”
Finding it too awkward to tell her the blunt truth, Patrick gave a vague, noncommittal shrug.
“Things are being handled, so you don’t need to worry. And please, you can speak normally. The formal tone is a bit embarrassing.”
Pretending to keep his eyes on the battle outside, he cast his gaze downward toward the town below.
From what he could see, there were no more undead roaming the streets. Instead, scorched black patches scarred the town in their place.
Every single one of them was a mark left behind by a vaporized undead.
Over a thousand humans had been infected by undead bites, and at least another thousand undead had poured in from beyond the Veil. Yet despite this tide of monsters, Patrick himself had barely slain any.
“We have Miss Melju to thank for that.”
Right on cue, Melju materialized behind Patrick via teleportation magic and slumped onto the floor.
“...I’m exhausted. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to scrape the bottom of my mana pool like this.”
“Seriously, we would have been in deep trouble without you, Miss Melju.”
It was no exaggeration.
Not only had she saved the day by delivering the crucial warning, but if Patrick had tried to hunt down the undead one by one, the humans would have died far faster than he could ever slay the monsters.
“Surely Lord Swallow’s contribution is far greater than mine. But isn't he finished yet?”
As if in answer to her question, the ground shook violently once more.
“As you can feel.”
“He’s still fighting, then. To face an entire army of undead and the boss of a Great Evil Cave all on his own... Truly, he is the Master of the Primordial Core, the lord of all creation, the punisher of those consumed by fear—”
“He’s just the Boss.”
“Right. As expected of Lord Swallow. I marvel at his terrifying strength every single time.”
“...He’s amazing, alright. In more ways than one.”
Like how he always manages to cause a massive scene whenever he steps out.
As Patrick grumbled to himself, a flash of purple light strobed in the distance. A moment later, a deafening crack of thunder rolled in, suggesting Erebos had unleashed some lightning magic.
Then came another series of heavy tremors.
—Sigh, I have a bad feeling my workload is about to skyrocket.
Why is he dragging this out when he could just crush them? Does he even care about the poor bastard who has to clean up after him?
“You don’t seem worried about Lord Swallow at all, Sir Patrick.”
“I’m more worried about Hastin.”
Patrick gave a dry, weary reply to Melju's question and turned his attention back to the bedroom.
Given the timing and the sheer difference in power, Swallow’s battle wouldn’t last much longer. There were only a handful of beings in the world who could survive a prolonged fight with the ancient monster, anyway.
It was time to wrap things up on his end as well.
Patrick’s gaze fell first on Rosalina. Her matted hair was soaked with sweat, and the vibrant energy she had exuded when they first met was completely gone.
Sensing his gaze, Rosalina weakly lifted her head. Her face was deathly pale, and her eyes were hollow and unfocused.
There's really no reason to keep her alive.
But on the other hand, there was no real need to kill her, either. She had driven the Lord to make her choice; killing the girl now might cause Lara to have a mental breakdown, which would only complicate things.
Besides, she's just a commoner from the slums. She has no real influence.
The thugs of the back alleys had already been wiped out before they could even lift a finger. Even if she knew the truth, a powerless girl like her couldn't do a thing.
Most of all, Rosalina's mind was completely shattered. A broken mind was far more debilitating than a broken body, so there was no need to waste any effort on her.
Alright, let's consider her dealt with.
Patrick turned his hollow eye sockets toward Lara. Meeting his gaze, Lara flinched, her shoulders trembling.
“Miss Melju, could you put our extra set of ears to sleep?”
At his simple request, Melju gave her staff a light wave. The swaying Rosalina collapsed limply onto the floor.
Once he was sure Rosalina was out cold, Patrick clapped his hands twice to clear the air.
“Now then, my dear Lord. Since we are faithfully fulfilling our end of the bargain to save Hastin, it’s about time you upheld your end, wouldn’t you agree?”
“...I understand. What do you want me to do?”
The sound of her swallowing hard was incredibly loud in the quiet room. Yet, having managed to compose herself, Lara's voice remained steady.
“Keeping all of this a secret... well, I’ll trust you have the common sense for that, so we can skip the obvious. Now, my Lord, I’m going to tell you a story. Listen very carefully.”
Once Lara nodded, Patrick continued in a dry, matter-of-fact tone, as if reading from a newspaper.
“It’s the story of a Lord who endured countless insults to protect her territory.”
Having caught wind that the undead were targeting her land, the noble Lord resolved to protect her beloved people at all costs.
However, she was constantly watched by undead lurking in the shadows. Knowing the town’s meager forces stood no chance against the overwhelming undead army, her only option was to secretly request aid from the Empire’s high command.
But waiting for that aid to arrive was a grueling ordeal. The sharp insults and fury of her people were directed entirely at her. All the Lord could do was endure in silence, even as her people suffered and died one by one.
Yet, she bore the burden. And finally, the knight and mage dispatched by the Empire at her request arrived, vanquishing the army of the dead and saving the territory from the brink of ruin.
With a metallic clank of his armor, Patrick pointed a finger at Lara.
“You are not a coward who hid in fear. You are a Lord who knew everything from the beginning but chose to sacrifice her own reputation for the greater good.”
“And now, having overcome the crisis, the Lord shall become a true savior, feeding her starving people,” he added in a playful, theatrical tone.
“—And that is the tale of a benevolent ruler. Do you catch my drift?”
“...Are you telling me to lie to my people?”
“Didn’t you say you wanted to live?”
Lara lowered her head. He was absolutely right. She had done nothing while her territory fell into ruin. And even if she had been ignorant of their true nature, she had still allied with the undead.
What would happen if her people found out? Her execution would be a foregone conclusion. The only question left would be how she would die.
—And it certainly wouldn't be peaceful. No race was as slow, painful, and inefficient at killing humans as humans themselves. At least seven gruesome methods of execution immediately flashed through Lara's mind.
“We’ll handle the staging to turn the young Lord of Hastin into a hero. For now, all you need to do is open the castle granaries and feed your people. Supplies and food will be arriving from neighboring towns soon enough anyway.”
“How... how do you know aid is coming?”
“I don’t just know it. I’m going to make it happen.”
“...”
Leaving Lara to ponder his words in silence, Patrick turned back to the window.
The deafening roars and tremors shaking the territory had finally subsided.
“Ah, looks like the Boss is wrapping things up, too.”
The half-day war was drawing to a close.
“In any case, a series of ‘miracles’ will occur until the territory stabilizes. Just accept them calmly, as if they’re natural blessings from God. And don’t act so anxious that you arouse suspicion. The Boss did say to offer everything, but he didn’t mean you have to hand it all over overnight.”
“Besides, we should probably go pick up the Boss now,” Patrick added, prompting Melju to slowly push herself up from the floor.
Watching their retreating figures with a dazed expression, Lara spoke up hesitantly.
“Um, may I... may I ask just one thing...?”
At her timid voice, Patrick turned back. A cold blue light flared within his hollow eye sockets, pinning her with an interrogative gaze.
“Why... why are you going to such lengths to save my territory?”
They were dungeon monsters.
Simply put, they were the enemy. They stood on the opposite side of a bloody, zero-sum conflict.
Of course, she had heard that some monster races were friendly toward humanity—but that certainly didn't apply to the Great Evil Caves. They weren't called the Great Evil Caves for nothing; they were, without a doubt, humanity's worst nightmare.
She had heard of dungeons that systematically exploited human territories, but she had never once heard of a dungeon that nurtured and managed a human territory to keep it alive.