Chapter 73
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 73
Not only had she set foot in the long-awaited Primordial Core, but she had also been graced with the presence of legendary figures. To top it off, sharing meals and living in the same space with them was an unparalleled luxury.
Yet, no matter how much she enjoyed such glory, the future she had to face was an entirely different matter.
“My future… is truly bleak.”
Her subordinates at the Demon King Castle had all been wiped out. The half-destroyed castle itself was left completely abandoned, and what little wealth she had was on the top floor, leaving her essentially penniless.
A Demon King with no money, no home, and no army.
…How pathetic she had become.
Assessing her situation with cruel objectivity, Melju toyed with the black mana stone of the staff resting on her lap.
The night air was chilly. Sitting atop a high, towering rock outside the dungeon, she felt her mind begin to calm. As a Demon King who loved the darkness, there were few places as beautiful to her as a forest at night.
Inhaling the cool air, Melju fell back into deep thought.
‘…I don’t know if it’s just my imagination, but…’
She felt as though a long time had passed since she began staying at the Primordial Core under the guise of a guest.
Wasn’t it about time they gave her an answer?
Even if not a direct answer, she had expected them to drop some hints. Perhaps they might suggest that since she had rested long enough, it was time for her to go and rebuild her army. Or at least give her a specific timeframe…
Or perhaps, they might offer to let her stay at the Primordial Core as a permanent member rather than a guest.
“…Though I doubt such a thing would ever happen.”
It wasn’t a place where a mere Demon King could dare claim a spot. Shaking her head at the thought, Melju dismissed it.
She had expected them to address her situation one way or another, but for some reason, they had remained completely silent.
‘Surely, their silence doesn’t mean I can shamelessly sponge off them in this dungeon forever.’
Was it time to prepare for her independence?
Having more or less made up her mind, Melju stretched and quietly looked up at the sky.
Just then, moonlight spilled over the rock where she sat. She raised her head and gazed at the moon.
It was a pale, waning crescent.
“The banquet is just around the corner.”
Looking at the moon, Melju muttered as something she had forgotten suddenly crossed her mind.
The banquet of the Demon Kings, held once every thirteen years, was only a few days away. If she went, she could surely gain something.
Since childhood, Melju had attended the banquet multiple times, holding the hand of her father—the previous Demon King. Each time, she had forged connections with other Demon Kings, laying the groundwork for future political and military alliances.
While not all of them would help, perhaps at least a few of her fellow Demon Kings might become her allies.
‘But they’ll hardly welcome me back with open arms when I have absolutely nothing to my name.’
There was no guarantee that going would secure her help in rebuilding the Demon King Castle. On the other hand, if she let this opportunity pass, the next one wouldn't come for another thirteen years. That fact weighed heavily on her mind.
As she was pondering, she heard footsteps. The clanking sound approaching from inside the Primordial Core was, without a doubt, Patrick.
Stepping out of the dungeon with slow strides, he started a conversation.
“The air is exceptionally refreshing tonight.”
“Do you even breathe, Patrick?”
“It was an undead-style joke.”
“Hmm… It’s not very funny.”
“You certainly know how to wound a heart with such a dry tone.”
Patrick laughed sheepishly. Melju, who had been staring at the moon, turned to look at him.
“What were you doing out here, Lady Melju?”
“Getting some fresh air, as you can see. And you, Sir Patrick?”
“I have no need for sleep, so I devote my spare time to training.”
“Is there still a higher realm for someone of your caliber to reach?”
“A swordsman’s hands and blade begin to rust the moment he lays down his sword.”
His words carried weight, perhaps because he meant them so sincerely. A brief silence followed.
In the two months they had shared the dungeon, they had never once been alone together.
Sensing the awkwardness, Patrick broke the silence. “It’s nothing major, but…”
“It seems Sir Tentacles has mostly recovered. Miss Rene is waiting as well, so would you like to go take a look?”
* * *
“…He really has only mostly recovered.”
“This is the best we can do. Honestly, it’s a miracle he’s recovered this much.”
Melju looked up in awe at the massive, undulating black creature. Since Sir Tentacles usually kept most of his main body buried underground, this was the first time she had seen his entire form.
‘Hmm, to be honest, even for a Demon King, this is seriously grotesque.’
Melju kept her mouth shut as the thought crossed her mind. His main body was covered in hideous, squirming organs of indiscernible purpose. As she stepped a bit closer, she felt a faint breeze, suggesting some of them might be for respiration.
In any case, no matter how much she looked, she couldn’t begin to fathom the biological structure that allowed him to function.
As she stared at him out of curiosity rather than fear, Rene, who had climbed to the very top of his body to count his tentacles, spoke up.
“Sixty-eight.”
Showing no aversion whatsoever, Rene slid down his body as if it were a playground slide and casually brushed the slime off her skirt.
“There are signs of further recovery, but the speed is very slow… In Rene’s opinion, he’ll grow back five more at most.”
“From one hundred and sixteen down to sixty-eight… That’s quite a reduction. By the way, since the Boss isn’t here, he must be asleep… Miss Rene, shouldn’t we inform him of the situation?”
“Oh, that’s fine. Lord Swallow already checked on him yesterday before heading back in.”
“Pardon? The Boss, being diligent for once…? Well, I suppose he does care about these matters more than he lets on.”
“Besides, since he’s no longer ‘116’, I wonder if we need to rename him,” Patrick added, tapping one of the tentacles with his gauntlet.
As if her own curiosity was more important than their conversation, Melju also gave a tentacle a gentle poke.
“…Ugh.”
At the unpleasantly slimy sensation, Melju muttered under her breath and immediately pulled her hand away.
Yet, even in that brief moment, she could feel an unfathomable amount of mana swirling within his body.
She had never heard of a tentacled creature that could freely wield magic. Still, to harbor that much mana meant the species itself was incredibly powerful.
Looking closely at the body, which had seemed purely black at first, she could clearly see the scars of battle.
Several severed sections were afflicted with a curse so potent that any ordinary monster would have died instantly—proof that one of their human enemies had wielded a magic sword.
The areas scorched and blasted by magic bore traces of high-output, high-tier spells.
“You said he fought against the Hishultz Subjugation Squad?”
With her Demon King Castle near Riaze, there was no way Melju wouldn’t know of them. The Hishultz Subjugation Squad was the strongest in the Empire. To monsters, their name was synonymous with death.
Led by the Hero Bern Hishultz, their ranks included a monk said to be a proxy for divine authority, a marksman with eyes of absolute precision, a spiritist contracted with the Spirit King of Fire, a dragon-kin mage fluent in Draconic, and a dwarf whose technology could replicate ancient weapons—along with other peak humans Bern had met while traveling the continent.
A subjugation squad composed of such humans.
While rumors always contained falsehoods and exaggerations, there was no denying that every single member was among the absolute strongest.
Furthermore, Melju still remembered.
Bern Hishultz was the very Hero who had slain her father.
‘…And this is the Primordial Core.’
This was a dungeon guarded by a monster that had stopped more than half of those elites, and it had two more gatekeepers of the same caliber.
“How strong is Sir Tentacles?” Melju asked, having been staring silently at the creature. At her sudden question, Rene and Patrick paused.
“Rene doesn’t really know how to answer when you ask like that.”
Only then realizing her slip of the tongue, Melju waved her hands in embarrassment.
“Ah, ah! That was discourteous of me. I meant nothing by it. It’s just… I was suddenly struck by how incredible Sir Tentacles is, so you don’t have to answer!”
“But Rene does remember one thing. In the past, when we were worrying about room assignments, Lord Swallow told us, ‘The gatekeepers are all of similar strength anyway, so just figure it out and live comfortably.’”
“Similar… I see. I asked an uncomfortable question. My apologies.”
Hearing the answer, Melju composed her expression and turned her gaze back to the tentacles.
‘Sir Tentacles must be weaker now than when he was whole.’
How long could she last against a creature like that?
No, even that was an insolent thought.
From the Anthropophago mother in Room 5 down to the administrators of Rooms 1 through 4, she had no confidence she could defeat a single one.
‘Though Lord Swallow and Sir Patrick have praised me in various ways…’
They merely marveled at her utility magic. Could she really be of any help in a real fight?
Could she personally hold off the humans invading the Primordial Core?
‘As I thought, it was a foolish dream.’
Her desire to remain as a member of the Primordial Core seemed utterly impossible. With that thought, Melju lowered her head slightly.
“Now that Sir Tentacles has recovered to some extent, we can’t leave Rooms 1 through 4 empty forever. I know the Boss has been working hard lately… but I should still try to persuade him one more time.”
“Rene really liked that golem guarding Room 4. Even if it’s not a golem, how about we exclude all pretty females from the list and only select low-intelligence males!”
“No, Miss Rene, that’s a bit…”
Patrick, who had been staring intently at Melju’s troubled face, had changed the subject, only for Rene to voice her selfish desires.
Melju, who had been quietly listening to their conversation, suddenly raised her head and spoke to them.
“Dame Rene, Sir Patrick!”
Unable to react smoothly this time, Patrick and Rene flinched and stared at her.
“I have given it some deep thought.”
Crossing her short arms in an attempt to look dignified, the Demon King declared:
“It seems I must go to Judeca.”
*
“…Though I did say that before leaving.”
The four-wheeled carriage rattled along the bumpy stone road. Perhaps because expensive magic had been cast on the wheels and body, the interior didn’t jolt too violently.
Leaning back against the cushioned seat and looking outside, she saw plains stretching far into the distance.
“I feel like I left too hastily,” Melju muttered softly, tightly clutching her cloth-wrapped staff to her chest.
The carriage traveled relentlessly in the opposite direction of Riaze. The horses pulling it were remarkably energetic for retired warhorses, running almost without rest while the sun was up. Even after crossing the plains and mountain ranges, it would take a full two days and nights to reach their destination.
The neutral city of Knecht, located on the border between the Empire and the Kingdom Alliance.
Near there, the banquet of the Demon Kings, Judeca, was to be held.
Melju raised her head and looked up at the sky. With no rain clouds, pulling back the carriage’s canopy revealed a clear view of the heavens. The daytime sky was fading, painted in dusky indigo.
Night would fall soon.
Scattered stars began to appear.
Those were Melju’s guideposts.
The location of Judeca was determined by the constellations during each cycle. While undoubtedly a hassle, it was also the reason why the banquet had persisted for hundreds of years.
It was on an entirely different level from Walpurgisnacht, the festival of monsters that even humans knew about. Humans, ignorant of how the location was chosen, could never even learn of Judeca’s existence.
—A banquet truly meant only for Demon Kings.
“You look deeply troubled.”
As she stared at the sky, the coachman struck up a conversation. Since the road ahead was nothing but open plains, he occasionally indulged in a bit of leisure.
“By the way, miss, you look like a young lady from some prestigious noble family. What brings you to the borderlands without a single escort?”
At his pure, artless curiosity, Melju retorted in a prickly voice.
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“Well, what good is a traveler who isn’t curious?” the coachman shot back with a hearty laugh.
While Melju didn’t dislike humans with a bit of life experience, she knew that once you opened the floodgates with his type, it was hard to get them to stop.
She cut the conversation short with a brief reply.
“I am merely returning to my duties after a brief rest. Don’t waste your curiosity on me.”
Finishing her words, she pulled out a pouch she had kept safely in her bosom.
A pouch filled to the brim with gold coins.
It was the travel money Rene had packed for her when she mentioned she was heading to Judeca. Rene had handed it over with a humble, “It’s not much,” but when Melju checked it to pay the coachman, she found it contained over three hundred ounces of gold.