Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: And the Story Begins (1)
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# 18
3. And the story begins. (1)
#1 Their circumstances: The trials of the future hero.
Hell had returned to the 10th gate.
“Hahaha! Is that all you’ve got? My junior should be stronger than this!”
“Heh, to put up this much of a fight against us when we’re not even using 50% of our strength.”
“For the instructor’s disciple to have a weakling like you—such a disgrace!”
“Look at No. 1000 here. The perfect disciple of the instructor! Proof of the biological truth that pups come from bitches!”
I knew full well that these guys who’d barged in out of nowhere—claiming to be the instructor’s former disciples—were golems mimicking our seniors, some Frankenstein mix of doppelgangers and homunculi.
I knew their power was at least 50% weaker. I knew they only copied memories and couldn’t improve their skills.
But even so, they were strong. And most importantly.
“Aren’t you ashamed, ganging up 7 on 3?!”
“Hahaha! If future villains like us felt shame over something like that, that would be the real disgrace!”
“Didn’t the instructor tell you? Preemptive strikes are essential. Ganging up is truth. You second-years should’ve realized that by now.”
“If you want to blame someone, blame the talent of your class—only three of you made it through.”
Our numbers were too low.
We had three. They had seven. Their skills were no joke, and we were short on manpower from the start.
The great demon summoned by No. 17 was sealed in a corner and wailing after just two seconds.
That massive body could only spew flames and act as a punching bag while getting beaten.
I’d always wondered why such evil, powerful demons couldn’t conquer a world where humans were the mainstream. This was a live demonstration of the reason.
“We’re not even a year in yet, so we wouldn’t know!”
Ultimate move: Sky Slash!
By condensing all my mana into a single point and unleashing it in one strike, the instructor said a perfected version could slice the sky—or at least the clouds.
I didn’t know if that was true, but it was my strongest attack right now—one that could at least cleave a great demon.
“Sky Slash? Yeah, definitely a first-year.”
“Doesn’t even know it’s got a counter. Hwecheon.”
It got sent right back at me.
“Huh, how?!”
“Idiot. You think the instructor would teach a skill without a way to counter it to outsiders?”
“And the sword path is a straight line. Too straightforward. Were they attacking just so we’d counter it?”
“They said it’s first-year stuff. Took us two years to learn it. Moron. Oh, wait—those kids might be in danger. We didn’t even make it here in our first year.”
“Yeah. Dangerous.”
“‘Let’s crush them here then.’”
“Damn… it!”
“No. 1, quit wasting breath!”
With their two shouts, the intensity of the attacks ramped up.
Was this really just 50% power? It seemed like a lie, but considering the two seniors we’d met so far, it wasn’t.
One had used some weird weapon and crushed our will to fight without us even resisting. The other had casually taken down all three of us. And like true disciples of the instructor, they all had personality issues.
Any normal person would think to give their juniors some pointers if they were superior—not try to stomp them!
“What is this, they’re just trying to kill us?!”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. You won’t die. Uh… probably.”
“What do you mean, probably?!”
Swords, spears, magic. Trajectories completely different from before.
In other words, every attack was now targeting vital points. Especially.
“Aren’t you girls ashamed?!”
“Master taught us this is the most lethal spot, so who cares!”
Deputy Director of Intelligence! This one’s been a demon from way back!
Unlike the others, she targeted only one spot. And only me! That spot!
“Why are you only attacking me?!”
“Hah, why do you think? It’s a spot only guys have!”
“S-stop! Gah?!”
The moment I blocked the 12 magic bullets flying at my groin, another one struck my side.
“Hmm. As long as you can’t abandon that spot, your defeat is certain.”
“Crazy bastard. With Sia that psycho only targeting your junk, could you just give it up?”
“Nope. Honestly, as a fellow guy, telling us to attack there— is the instructor even human?”
“Hah, this punk. Asking if that’s basic common sense. Is that human? Even demons wouldn’t go there with the instructor.”
As expected, they’d fully absorbed the memories of the instructor’s disciples.
How could master and disciples talk like that while never stopping their beatings?
Wasn’t it agreed in stories that even heroes and demon kings didn’t interrupt dialogue? In fairy tales, they let each other talk even while carrying the fate of the world—yet these guys beat without mercy.
“Junk. Junk. Junk.”
“Stop it, you crazy bitch!”
“Hey, kid. Be grateful. We used to charge at dicks, but our trials and tribulations fixed that.”
“Yeah. Was it sexual harassment? Mental attack? Chanting it obsessively while charging in—it was hell. Honestly, embarrassing.”
“The instructor probably knew and taught it anyway. Even we, who endured all sorts under him, were shocked at how effective it was.”
“Shut up and stop hitting!”
My whole body ached. It hurt. But mentally, it was worse.
Were they possessed by ghosts who died speechless? They wouldn’t shut up.
This wouldn’t do. Retreat or finish it. And I chose the latter.
“Try blocking this one t—gah!”
“Juuuunk!”
“…O goddess Helena of hell. As countless children rise to your bosom, send them to a good place.”
“O great goddess of light, Sermir, may your radiance grant hope to this poor soul.”
In my whitening vision, I saw the men making the sign of the cross and silently praying. And with that, my memory of the first 10th gate ended.
We repeated that scene a few times.
And we grew.
“Junk!”
“Y-you demon spawn!”
“Urk. As expected of the instructor’s disciples!”
Agonized screams echoed.
Nearly a month.
In that time, we learned a lot. Mostly from the one called No. 1000 who targeted only enemy groins.
“Self-destruct, Surtr.”
“You damnable maaaster!”
No. 17, who wrapped her body in chemicals and turned the world-ending great demon into a reusable, sturdy suicide bomber.
“You crazy bitch, snap out of it!”
“Crazy bitch, doing friendly fire?!”
“Die for me!”
Or the country where she snuck into the instructor’s room, stole one of his shirts, and traded it with the Deputy Director of Intelligence to turn a 7:3 fight into 6:4.
“Cheater!”
“Excellent praise. Thank you, senior.”
Gotta admit, that was impressive.
I nearly died twice just going to grab one shirt from the instructor’s room.
It was packed with traps numbering almost as many as here.
Open a drawer, and hidden weapons fired from above. Drawer handles had poison needles. The safe in the corner whispered, “Open me…” “I’m bored…”
I even wondered if I’d fallen into an illusion again. The instructor’s room was plastered with traps.
Open the desk, and a black notebook burst into flames and vanished—I worried what he’d do if he noticed, but for now, I stole a few shirts to pass this gate.
“Urk… To think we’d lose…”
“But we are… Instructor Naruan’s weakest disciples!”
“Ahead, even stronger disciples await y—”
“Nope, idiots. Losing to juniors is embarrassing enough. And you’re playing old Four Heavenly Kings with the weakest? Pathetic.”
And after a month and a half, just as we barely cleared the 10th gate, another trial came.
- The 11th gate is a rest area. A space to rest before the final gate.
“Dangerous.”
“Yeah.”
“Rest? Yeah, right.”
“‘As if.’”
We imagined all sorts.
Was that puddle labeled drinkable actually poisoned? Were those beds filled with venomous bugs instead of cotton? Was that brazier made of hazardous materials, ready to engulf the room in flames when lit?
A week of checking everything. We were convinced.
“You tricked us, instructor!”
“…It was a trap.”
“He’s trying to stop us from resting easy.”
Nothing. It was literally a rest space.
Damn! The instructor’s mocking face, as we stood watch and prepared for everything, was vivid in my mind!
And after a brief rest, we faced an absurd gate.
“Die instead! Surtr!”
-Give proper orders, you idiot master!
“How the hell do we dodge this?!”
“We’re dead.”
Magic bombardment from the sky, arrows and spears from all sides! And a boulder bigger than Surtr rolling straight at us!
“Magic circle behind!”
“Crazy, no more slave shields?”
“There is!”
-Kahaha! I am the demon count of hell… guk!
No. 1000 grabbed the white-robed demon from the rear magic circle and hurled it over us.
-Y-you huuumaans!
The nameless demon count flew off, got blasted by spells, and was reverse-summoned.
-P-Pekelgong?! Gah!
“Nice, No. 1000!”
I grabbed another demon—who revealed Pekelgong’s name but wouldn’t reveal his own—and threw him toward the incoming spears.
“Kyaaak!”
I was getting the hang of it.
-You cursed scum! Guk!
-O demon god, curse these spawn more venomous than angels, more evil than demons!
-Shut up! This is the end for you lot—I’ve got more ahead!
Faster than expected, in just under half a month, we used the emerging demons and great demons (lol) as shields to clear the 12th gate safely.
“…It’s over.”
“Is it?”
“With the instructor, he’d say even if it’s the 12th gate, there’s actually a 13th.”
“‘Totally possible.’”
Before the final door of the 12th gate, we gulped and halted our hands on the push.
No. 1000 was right. It was called the 12th gate, but he’d never said there were exactly twelve.
“Still… we have to go forward.”
“We could go back?”
“That’s not the point!”
After an hour of debate.
We opened the door and advanced. Dazzling light greeted us, and.
“You’re fast. Congrats, juniors.”
The senior we’d seen before—Lane—greeted us with immense presence.
Unlike his light smile at first sight, he now grinned brightly, matching his terrifying aura.
“And. Bye-bye.”
“Dodge!”
His golden hair swayed in the wind. His handsome face—even a guy could admit it—waved one hand while holding that bat in the other.
Bang!
“Gya?!”
My sudden shout let No. 1000 dodge, but No. 17 couldn’t match our reflexes. Or rather, she’d instinctively put up a mana barrier first.
But the moment the bat touched it, the barrier vanished as if it never existed.
“Huh? Ugh? W-wait! It hurts!”
The bat assault began. It struck No. 17’s body repeatedly. After the first hit, she could only groan.
“Eek? S-save… eek?”
“Haha, you won’t die, so relax!”
No. 17 looked at us with desperate eyes while the former senior mocked her. Alright, then.
“Let’s bolt!”
“Yeah!”
“Huh? Kk? Eek? S-save m—aaah!”
Sorry, but when you were getting hit, you didn’t stop it either. Hell, the instructor was chatting with you, not even looking, adjusting swings until you passed out.
Karma! But I’ll remember your sacrifice!
“Think you can escape?”
We fled toward the cave exit leaking light, but with a flash, the former senior appeared between me and No. 1000.
“This place is already my domain!”
“Damn, pre-drawn magic circle!”
Clang!
“Eek? Why, why does it huuurt!”
Despite my shout, he just swung the bat.
No. 1000 pulled two short daggers to counter the incoming bat, but with each clash, her condition worsened rapidly.
“Eek? What? It huuuurts? Why?”
Her legs trembled; she barely held, then knelt on both knees.
“Hurts? Hate it! Ugh? S-stop!”
No. 1000’s frail voice—I’d never heard it before. Not even when she couldn’t eat her first meal.
“Now, just you left.”
“Ugh?!”
I drew my swords and poured in max mana.
But even No. 1000’s sharp sword aura left no mark on the bat. Could we win?
“Think you can win?”
“Ugh?!”
“Hahaha, come on, rookie!”
Exactly four strikes, and I collapsed screaming. Thus, we howled in pain, feeling a defeat unlike any of the twelve gates.