Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Dungeon (3)
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The subjugation force plummeted down, tangled in debris.
“Uwaaaah!”
The soldiers and Holy Knights wailed like children.
Even for these seasoned veterans, falling into endless darkness was a first.
‘To blow up an entire expanse of land like this. They prepared thoroughly.’
Even Demian, standing on solid ground above, hadn’t sensed anything amiss. Proof that the earth’s crust had been extraordinarily thick.
Crashing such a massive volume of soil at once wasn’t easy.
‘Deep. No end in sight.’
Even amplifying his vision with mana yielded no glimpse of the bottom.
Even the famously sturdy Holy Knights would struggle to survive a fall from here.
‘Did they hollow out the mountain’s interior entirely? That’s why the dungeon entrance was on the ridge.’
The dungeon’s mountain location seemed designed to create a cavern of this depth.
‘The Corpse Toymaker didn’t lure the subjugation force here for nothing.’
With Demian’s skills, he could have leaped off the debris to safety.
But Demian chose not to. Black mana pulsed from below.
The spot where Demian and the subjugation force fell.
From that layered abyss of darkness emanated terrifying black mana.
Until now, the solid earth had blocked it.
The moment that vanished, it felt vividly close.
‘Corpse Toymaker, so you were down there.’
A smile curled on Demian’s lips. He’d finally found his anticipated prey.
“Soldiers and Holy Knights, listen up!”
Just then, Gamal’s voice rang out.
A Grade 2 Holy Knight could escape the trap using debris, as Demian had thought.
Yet Gamal fell with the subjugation force. To save as many as possible.
Margata and Sanus plummeted alongside, just like Gamal.
“Activate the holy relics issued by headquarters! Using them should let you survive the fall, at least with your lives!”
To save as many as possible.
“If you hit the bottom, stay put and wait for rescue! We’ll come get you for sure!”
Gamal shouted toward Sanus.
“Sanus! Use your miracles! We have to protect them all!”
“Sure thing~ Got it~.”
Even in this chaos, Sanus seemed utterly relaxed. As he clasped his hands, radiant light enveloped the subjugation force.
Divine power wrapped around their bodies. It seemed to offer protection against impacts.
Regrettably, deployed hastily on such a scale, its effect was limited.
“Margata! Once you hit bottom, move immediately! We need to rescue as many as we can!”
“Got it! Just leave it to me!”
Moments after Margata’s shout, the subjugation force slammed into the ground.
* * *
Just before impact, Demian twisted his body midair.
His feet touched down, knees and waist bending to absorb the shock.
He landed as silently as a feather.
“Ow, stiff.”
Still, the impact wasn’t nothing. Demian stretched his back with a grumble.
“Uwaaaah!”
Then someone else crashed down. A crater formed with a massive thud.
“Urk... grrr... graaa...”
Someone crawled from the crater. Astonishingly, it was Dionysio of the Blizzard.
“D-Demian Haksen?”
Dionysio was equally stunned. He stared at Demian with a dumbfounded face.
“Why aren’t you healing up? You can’t be fine.”
“Who says I’m not? This level of shock is... graaaah!”
Dionysio screamed midway through standing.
He lay on the ground, summoning divine power. His wounds began healing.
“Damn it.”
Grumbling, Dionysio rose. It looked fully mended.
‘This is why Holy Knights are such a pain.’
Holy Knights could self-heal by expending divine power.
Difficult mid-battle and costly in power, but undeniably a huge advantage.
“Of all people to fall with, it had to be you, Demian Haksen.”
Dionysio glared at Demian, grumbling. Demian shrugged.
“You complain a lot. Someone might think you came to play, not fight.”
“Wh-who’s complaining! You’ve always rubbed me the wrong way...”
In that instant, Dionysio’s eyes sharpened.
He thrust his spear at Demian. The blade aimed to pierce his face.
Demian didn’t dodge. The tip grazed his cheek and stabbed behind him.
-Kieeeek...!
A bat-like Flesh Golem impaled on the spear shrieked.
“Don’t let your guard down. Check your surroundings. We’re in a black mage’s dungeon.”
Demian looked at Dionysio with surprise.
He’d noticed the approaching Flesh Golem from the start.
Curious about Dionysio’s reaction, he’d let it be. He hadn’t expected a save.
“I thought you held a grudge against me.”
“Yeah! I do! I’ll get you back later! ...But I can’t just let you die.”
Demian regarded Dionysio with unexpected sentiment.
He’d seemed a reckless punk when venting anger.
Now he proved able to separate duty from personal grudges.
“And if you died, Agnes sis would be sad.”
“What, you into Agnes?”
“Wh-what nonsense!”
Dionysio bellowed. The reaction reminded Demian of his brother Abel.
“Quit talking crap and follow me! We need to link up with the others!”
Dionysio strode forward. But his steps halted short.
From the darkness emerged a ragged-clad man.
“...A person?”
Dionysio stared at the man in confusion.
“I’m a Holy Knight dispatched by the Church. Did you escape the black mage?”
Dionysio moved closer. Demian grabbed his shoulder.
“What’s this?”
“Look closely. That’s no human.”
Demian pointed. Dionysio squinted.
His eyes soon widened.
“...The skin... it’s stitched like rags?”
Demian had known from the start it was a Flesh Golem, not human.
‘Corpse Toymaker’s lair confirmed. Already top-shelf stuff showing up.’
The Corpse Toymaker had one odd obsession.
The more effort into a Flesh Golem, the more human-like.
He called it aesthetics; to Demian, grotesque taste.
Human-shaped Flesh Golem.
The Corpse Toymaker dubbed them ‘masterpieces.’
-Wooor!
A beastly roar erupted from the man’s mouth. His body began swelling.
From average build, he ballooned to surpass an ogre’s musculature.
“Damn, that’s a Flesh Golem too.”
Dionysio gripped his spear with disgust. Ashen chill coated it.
“No time for trash like you!”
Dionysio charged. Spear aimed for the chest.
But as the tip met skin, the chill dispersed.
“...What?”
A spear without divine power was just metal. It couldn’t pierce the Flesh Golem’s hide.
-Uwoooor!
The Flesh Golem swung its palm, batting Dionysio. He tumbled, vomiting blood.
“H-how... exactly...”
Dionysio gaped at the Flesh Golem in horror.
No mistake. He’d thrust, but divine power vanished.
“D-Demian Haksen...! Run...! That thing... it’s dangerous...! Don’t engage...!”
Dionysio yelled at Demian Haksen. Unable to flee injured, he urged Demian to escape.
But seeing Demian’s face, Dionysio shivered.
A smile.
Demian Haksen grinned grotesquely at the Flesh Golem.
Exaggerated, vivid, as if someone yanked his facial skin from behind.
“I thought there might be a connection.”
Demian gripped his holy sword. Its blade gleamed ominously.
“There was, after all.”
Stoked by Demian’s killing intent, the Flesh Golem roared and charged.
Demian met it head-on. The Golem’s fist descended overhead.
Demian parried with his sword. Blade met fist; the fist split in two.
Demian angled the blade slightly. The massive forearm sheared vertically.
-Uwoor?
Puzzled by the lightness, the Flesh Golem glanced at its hand.
Meanwhile, Demian slashed at its legs.
A line sliced air; knees cleaved in half.
-Uwoooor!
The Flesh Golem tilted. It flailed arms for balance.
Demian mounted its chest. It toppled backward powerlessly.
-Wooor!
The Golem swung arms to grab Demian.
Demian severed them irritably. Thick arms flew far.
“Corpse Toymaker! You knew from this era!”
Demian spat cryptically. Gleefully, he hacked the Flesh Golem.
“You got it from that bastard! Where’d you stash it? Here? Or here!”
Blood and flesh sprayed. Demian’s body reddened.
Yet the eerie smile on his face persisted.
Relentless slashes stilled the Flesh Golem completely. Demian’s hands didn’t stop.
At the horrific sight, Dionysio trembled.
“Found it.”
Demian extracted something from the Golem’s innards. A round stone etched with bizarre runes.
“Here.”
He tossed it to Dionysio.
“Take it to the Church. Might explain the divine power disruption.”
Demian already knew the answer.
No ordinary item. A magic tool Archlich Dorgo devised after long research to fight the Church.
It inflicted heavy losses in the war with Dorgo. Countermeasures came late, after momentum shifted.
This time, Demian found it first and passed it on—countermeasures would come sooner.
“Can you move?”
Demian asked Dionysio.
“Y-yes, I can.”
“Why the sudden formality?”
“J-just... felt right...”
Dionysio poured divine power into healing.
“Good. Let’s move.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
Demian led the oddly polite Dionysio onward.
* * *
They walked far but saw no other survivors.
“No end in sight. How vast is this place?”
Dionysio scanned around.
“From the fall, it looked like they carved out the mountain’s guts. Probably bigger than the dungeon we were in.”
Speaking, Demian pondered.
The Corpse Toymaker excelled at Flesh Golems but couldn’t excavate mountains.
‘Another accomplice?’
No black mage manipulated earth. Beyond black magic’s domain.
Must be an ally from another field.
‘Well, Dorgo’s forces weren’t just black mages.’
Dorgo commanded many nonhumans hating humans.
They allied to destroy humanity.
Lost in such thoughts, they entered a vast cavern. Ceiling and walls expansive.
“Oh my~.”
First other voice since landing.
“Both of you alive~?”
Sanus of Blinding Pain spoke in his languid tone.
Sanus wasn’t alone. Several Blinding Pain Holy Knights stood nearby.
“So glad to see you unscathed~.”
Dionysio’s eyes widened at Sanus.
Not joy. Because of who Sanus gripped.
“Guh... kuh...”
The figure in Sanus’s hand vomited blood by the scruff.
Dionysio shouted urgently.
“Senior Gamal!”
* * *
On impact, Agnes felt her body nearly shatter.
She barely clung to consciousness.
This was the Corpse Toymaker’s dungeon. Losing awareness meant death.
“Agnes! Stay with me!”
Margata appeared in her vision. Fortunate—they’d landed together.
Margata supported Agnes. Unlike Agnes, barely hanging on, Margata seemed fine.
“Heal yourself with divine power, quick!”
Agnes channeled divine power as told. Fractured bones knit instantly; torn muscles restored.
“Wh-what of the others?”
Rising, Agnes asked. Margata silently pointed.
There, crushed Holy Knights and soldiers lay dead.
Agnes survived due to her level; others couldn’t from that height.
“...Still, some must be alive. Let’s find them.”
Agnes nodded at Margata’s words.
“Materials already showing up?”
A stranger’s voice echoed.
Agnes and Margata whipped toward it.
“Falling right to me. Tough luck, both of you.”
A frail-looking young man eyed them, as if about to collapse.
“Who are you? State your identity.”
Margata demanded warily.
The young man smiled weakly.
“Corpse Toymaker.”