Chapter 9
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 9
“Boss, the more I think about it, the more I realize you're one of a kind. Not content with just driving off the humans, you had to chase out Miss Rene too, didn't you? I'm practically slapping my femur in awe of your indiscriminate booting of friend and foe alike.”
“Patrick… How am I supposed to fix this?”
“You’re the one who made the mess, Boss. Why are you asking me for the answer?”
He said that, but his boss had been in this state for four days now.
Patrick sat down, glancing sideways at the unresponsive Swallow. He felt a little sorry for him, but he couldn't help but find him pathetic, too. Seeing that massive frame slumped over like a piece of dried squid made Patrick feel the energy drain right out of him.
Well, saying anything more wouldn't help the situation.
Patrick didn't think time would necessarily heal this wound, but he decided to leave him be for now. Staying by Swallow’s side was all he could do.
It had been four days since that incident—four days since Rene had been all but forcibly driven out of the Primordial Core.
It happened right after Patrick had finally shaken off a bored, pestering Swallow and was lovingly maintaining his greatsword, the 14th Masterpiece Devouring Sword Tanabella. He was wiping fine particles of dust from the blade when he felt an overwhelming surge of dark energy erupt from the direction of the dungeon entrance.
It was a massive wave of dark energy, the likes of which he hadn't felt in decades. Patrick dropped everything and sprinted toward it, Tanabella still in hand. He could tell from the aura alone that the situation was dire. Prepared for a fight, he followed the energy—only to find Rene slumped powerlessly like a broken doll, her eyes unfocused, and Swallow, who still possessed his reason but radiated a dark energy so agitated it seemed ready to crush everything in its path.
What happened after that?
Patrick scratched his skull with a sharp index finger bone. He had been so flustered that his memory was a bit hazy, but it probably went something like this.
* * *
“Boss!”
Patrick let out the loudest roar he could muster, but Swallow didn't even flinch. Springing from the ground, Patrick lunged toward him without a second’s thought. Countless thorns erupted from Swallow’s body, all aimed at Rene. There was no doubt about it—the Boss was trying to kill her, having marked her completely as an enemy.
As the dark energy flooded the room, a horrific vision flashed through Patrick’s mind.
He imagined those black thorns piercing Rene’s body, tearing her into a thousand pieces until she was nothing but a mangled, inside-out lump of flesh. No, it wasn't just his imagination; it was a future that was seconds away from happening.
Patrick skidded to a halt in front of Swallow. He tried to grab the hair of the half-transformed Swallow and drag him back, but the Boss was an immovable wall of muscle and rage. Instead of Swallow moving, the ground beneath him groaned and buckled, unable to bear his sheer weight. Without a moment’s hesitation, Patrick spun around and dashed for Rene.
She was still staring blankly at the ground. A black jewel lying on the floor caught Patrick’s eye. Giving it only a fleeting glance, he immediately grabbed Rene’s hand.
She was ice-cold. He had to put some distance between them, but Rene was so stiff he wondered if she was even alive.
“Miss Rene!”
“Ah… Ahhh… What… have I done?”
She wasn't in a state where words could reach her.
Reaching that conclusion, Patrick raised Tanabella. He swung the massive greatsword, which was larger than his own body, in a wide arc. In an instant, he thrust the blunt pommel of the sword into Rene’s stomach.
No scream left her lips. She only exhaled a ragged breath, as if squeezing out the air she had been desperately holding.
An attack of that level wouldn't knock her unconscious, but it would be enough to sap the strength from her body. With that judgment made, Patrick threw Rene toward the dungeon entrance with all his might.
Rene was sent flying helplessly, slamming into a wall. The wall crumbled with a thunderous crash.
Alright, I’ve put some distance between them, but…
Patrick wasn't exactly skilled at throwing things. Even though he’d thrown her "far," the gap was only a few dozen meters. It wasn't about creating a physically safe distance so much as breaking them out of a hair-trigger crisis.
“Right… Now, what do I do?” Patrick muttered to himself, loud enough for Swallow to hear, as he adjusted his grip on his sword. He took a stance that was both fundamental and unpredictable, the tip of his blade pointed directly at Swallow.
Could he win? What a stupid question. He scolded himself internally. What are you thinking, Patrick? Don't be an amateur.
“You’re finally getting serious for once, Boss. It’s not cool at all, though, since you’re angry at the wrong person.”
If I don't give this everything I’ve got, I might be the one dying instead of Rene.
It was a true life-or-death crisis. The worst possible scenario. And yet, a faint smile touched Patrick’s lips.
“I didn't expect it to be like this, but I did want to spar with you one more time, Boss.”
The overwhelming despair before him clashed with his own exhilaration, sending a tremor through his very bones.
This was it. This vague terror. The feeling he had forgotten for a while—the kind that proved, ‘I am alive.’
If asked about his chances of winning, they were probably nonexistent. To begin with, the Boss—Swallow—wasn't a creature meant to be defeated. However, victory wasn't Patrick's goal. He only needed to hold him off for a few dozen seconds, or perhaps a few minutes, until his master on the other side regained his senses.
Are you trying to kill me too?
Swallow's voice, a grating scrape of metal on stone, was the sound of death itself. At that moment, Patrick charged toward the grotesquely transformed monster—his boss.
* * *
“Well, it wasn't entirely your fault, Boss,” Patrick said, ending his brief recollection.
It was only much later, after Swallow had fully regained his senses, that Patrick heard the whole story. From his perspective, the incident wasn't really anyone’s fault. Not that he was saying either of them had handled it well, either.
“No. The more I think about it, the more I’m sure I’m the one who messed up.”
“Wallowing in self-loathing won't change anything. You should be glad you chased Miss Rene out back then.”
It was a stroke of luck in a sea of misfortune. Swallow's mindless rage had been so absolute that, for a brief moment, Rene saw him not as her beloved master but as a 'vague terror.' That crucial shift was what allowed Patrick to drive her out while she was in a similar state of shock.
If Swallow had shown even a hint of his usual self, and if Rene had felt even more guilt because of it…
She would have died.
Before Swallow could even lay a hand on her, Rene would have taken her own life right then and there. She wouldn't have hesitated for a second. Patrick was certain of it.
Rene usually didn't show it, but she was obsessed with Swallow to a pathological degree.
When that intense obsession was mixed with her loyalty as a servant to her master, what reason would she have to not end her own life? Yes. Whether by murder or suicide, death had been staring Rene down from every angle in that situation. It certainly had.
He wasn't just saying it; he was truly relieved she had escaped the dungeon alive.
“If I had to put a label on it, I’d call it mutual negligence. Though as far as I’m concerned, you’re definitely the one in the wrong, Boss.”
“I-I don't really remember that part well…”
“Is that so? Want me to help you remember? Do you recall saying, ‘Are you trying to kill me too?’ I remember it vividly. It was truly something. Do you know I’d have to grind my jawbone to even attempt to mimic that voice? Maybe I should try. How did it go? Like this, with the bones clicking together… Are you trying to kill—”
“Stooooooop!”
“Still don't remember?”
“I… damn it… I’m sorry…”
“Hmph. At least you’re quick to admit it. Get a grip, Boss. You’re thousands of years old, for heaven’s sake.”
Patrick scoffed at Swallow, who curled his slumped body into a ball as if he were dying of embarrassment.
He spoke harshly, but he understood Swallow’s actions to some extent.
According to Swallow, what Rene had brought out was a mana stone with a demon sealed inside.
A demon sealed in a mana stone forms a contract with the user who injects mana into it. The problem was that calling it a ‘contract’ was a generous euphemism; it was less a contract and more a complete hostile takeover, with the demon usurping the body of the mana provider.
Since the mana was injected by the user’s own will, it couldn't be undone, and naturally, the demon’s power would be proportional to the user’s strength. Although the demon, in its wretchedly broken state, had the form of a thumb-sized fetus, if it had been awakened by Rene’s call, it would have been a bloodbath.
It wasn't just any human who had summoned it; it would have been a demon called forth by that Rene. In a way, it was only natural that Swallow had felt a threat to his life.
“And it just had to be a demon, of all things.”
Silence fell again. The sound of water droplets dripping from the ceiling to the floor resembled the ticking of a clock.
It felt as if time were slowing down. Just as the silence was becoming tedious, a low voice leaked from Swallow’s long mouth.
“I guess I really should go find Rene…”
“Why are you saying something so obvious like you're hatching some grand scheme?”
“Huh? Oh, I just thought you’d tell me I couldn't go, Patrick.”
“What a disappointing thing to say. Do you have any idea how much we need Miss Rene in our dungeon? From managing the monsters' meals to procuring ingredients, dungeon repairs, monster placement, various planning, cleaning, resolving complaints, converting assets, distributing income, keeping the ledgers… Miss Rene did almost all the management by herself. Sorry to say it, Boss, but the damage from Miss Rene disappearing is far greater than the damage from you disappearing.”
“…I knew that, but hearing it put so directly is a shock.”
“Anyway, I have no confidence in cooking or cleaning. Go find her immediately before it’s too late.”
Whether you have to prostrate yourself, beg, or kiss her boots, just get it done, Patrick added mentally, prodding Swallow to get a move on.
“You know what will happen if word gets out that Miss Rene has left, don't you? Other dungeons will be in an uproar trying to recruit her. That’ll make things difficult for us. If I hear that Miss Rene has joined another dungeon—I’ll neatly submit my resignation and vanish before you even get back, Boss.”
“Patrick, you don't even have ears.”
“You want to fight?”
As if intimidated by Patrick’s words, Swallow’s body rapidly shrank, transforming into the form of a handsome human male. Seeing him like that, Patrick remembered something and pulled an object from between his ribs, holding it out.
“Ah, you’ll probably need this when you go outside.”
It was a bracelet set with a mana stone that emitted a faint green glow.
Before Swallow could even ask what it was, Patrick tossed the bracelet to him. Ignoring Swallow as he clumsily caught it, Patrick continued.
“It's a mana-stabilizing bracelet. Made from a type of soothing stone called ‘Demeura.’ You don't need the details, just know it's expensive. Even if it helps stabilize mana, your mana backflow is so severe that I’m not sure how effective it’ll be. It probably won't be a miracle cure, but it should at least stop your polymorphed body from fluctuating so wildly.”
“You’re so prepared, it’s like you knew this would happen… Where did you get this?”
“I picked it up on my way here.”
“So nonchalant!”
“And please, don't use it for anything else, Boss. That thing isn't as sturdy as it looks.”
“I’ll know once I try it.”
“Please.”
“I’ll try, I’ll try.”
“…And you must return within five days.”
Patrick held out his skeletal palm, catching Swallow’s attention. He clicked his teeth together, as if telling him to focus. The voice that followed held a fair amount of gravity.
“It’s about time for the humans to show up, Boss. The human newspapers haven't mentioned an expedition lately, but by my calculations, they'll invade within ten days. This is just an estimate, of course. Five days is the absolute limit for what I can call safe.”
“You’re telling me to come back before the humans get here?”
“Yes, Boss. I can't guarantee how long I’ll hold out when I have no information on the enemy.”
Every room was currently decimated.
It would take a considerable amount of time to restore them. Even Room 5, which usually began to recover automatically, was in a state where the Anthropophago mother had stopped breeding out of fear because Swallow had been so enthusiastically venting his dark energy.
“If I fail to stop the humans and they reach ‘that place’ while you’re away, there’s no telling what will happen. Five days—at the absolute latest. Remember that.”
“…Alright. I’ll make sure to bring Rene back within five days.”
“And one last thing, I’m warning you: if you happen to go near a human village, refrain from doing anything that stands out too much, Boss. It won't do us any good if it’s discovered that a dungeon monster is hiding out in a human settlement.”
“Got it. If things go south, I’ll just smash everything. If you hear a bunch of explosions outside, you'll know it was me.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!”
Before Patrick could even finish his sentence, Swallow leaped toward the passage leading to the entrance. He didn't so much jump as throw himself forward, arms spread wide as if diving into the passage.