Treasure Hunting (2)
When a dungeon was left untended for too long, a Break occurred — and if even that couldn't be contained, the surrounding land would erode and mutate into a world belonging entirely to the dungeon's denizens.
The mutated lands born from that process — Demon Realms — existed all across the world.
But dungeons only ever manifested on the ground, and Breaks were no exception. There had never, not once in recorded history, been an incident of one occurring beneath the sea or in the open sky.
Unless, of course, a dungeon possessed its own concealment ability and was lurking in secret. No such case had ever been discovered even a decade or more on, so for all practical purposes, it simply didn't happen.
That was why Seondo, a floating island in the sky, had no dungeons or Demon Realms of its own.
The school, apparently regretting this state of affairs, had torn up patches of the island into all manner of terrain and eventually manufactured its own artificial Demon Realms.
It had even built them like a theme park, each one themed to a different concept.
Naturally, given that this was a facility made by a mad institution, it was anything but a carefree amusement park. It wouldn't take a student's life — but it could push them right up to the very brink of it. A Demon Realm in the truest sense of the word. Seondo was not a school that took responsibility for a student losing an arm or a leg to their own reckless choices, so—
This, too, was a battlefield that demanded you fight for your life with everything you had.
The place we had arrived at was a Demon Realm built around the theme of the Demon King's Castle — the domain of Zoltrak, the Butcher.
A darkened sky, a graveyard stretching in every direction, and a Demon King's Castle perched atop a sheer cliff. This place, which looked fit to be a hero party's final journey, was today's picnic spot for the two of us.
"...For a stroll, this is a remarkably dreary place, is it not?"
Cheon Yuha, who had been in full tourist mode, pouted her lips in displeasure at the scenery — but I had no doubt whatsoever that she'd come to love it soon enough. After all, I had never once in my life met a person who disliked getting things for free.
"Right, then. Watch what I do closely, and follow along."
"Hm?"
The Demon Realm of Zoltrak, the Butcher.
An artificial dungeon built around the concept of fighting enemies that grew steadily stronger as you climbed the Demon King's Castle. You were expected to scale a hill crawling with traps, enter the castle, and then contend with an endless tide of minions — it was infamous for its sheer viciousness. But it had another nickname as well.
It was known as the mining site.
"HYAAAAAH!!!"
BOOM! I smashed my fist into a statue of a tombstone with all my might, shattering it. The statue, its surface already webbed with cracks as if it had been waiting to fall apart, collapsed in a heap — and there, in its place, sat a single box.
Heart pounding, I approached it, shut my eyes tight, and said a little prayer as I opened the lid.
...Come on, please just this once!
◈ A medicinal root of moderate potency that increases internal energy reserves.
The Demon Realm of Zoltrak — or the mining site, if you preferred.
This place was, in essence, a treasure vault: smash the architecture, and elixirs would come pouring out. Since it was only dressed up as a graveyard for appearances' sake, there wasn't a shred of guilt involved — but I still scrunched up my face.
"Eight tries, and all I get is a common one."
The good drops weren't coming as often as they should have. Other people got them just fine, so why was I like this? Seven Hundred-Year Fleeceflower Roots in a row — well, no. Seven Ten-Year ones in a row, and only now a Hundred-Year root. It was hardly an impressive haul.
CRASH!
"Oh, would you look at that!"
I turned my head and there was Cheon Yuha, grinning from ear to ear and holding up a Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Root. She'd only been watching until now, and on her very first smash she'd pulled something far better than anything I'd gotten.
How?! Why?!
I wailed inwardly at my own miserable luck.
Once we had mined our fill, Cheon Yuha hoisted her bulging, overstuffed backpack and cried out with a beaming smile.
"My friend! Just as you said — smash the statues and elixirs come out! I got seven Thousand-Year Fleeceflower Roots alone!"
"..."
My backpack, by contrast, hung limp and forlorn. How was any of this fair?
If we'd kept smashing, something more might have come out — but the rule was a strict limit of ten per person. That much was obvious; leave the limit off and the place would be swarming with people mining from dawn to dusk.
"At first I wondered why you had brought me here, but this is truly fun! What comes out next, I wonder?"
Watching Cheon Yuha's eyes sparkle, as though she'd never known a moment of disappointment or despair in her life, stirred a flicker of jealousy in me. Honestly, on a purely human level, it kind of stung.
...But the main stage starts now.
I gazed up at the towering cliff face and pulled something out of my backpack.
The orthodox route was to circle around the cliff and overcome the ridgeline the proper way. But doing that would leave us shorthanded, and more importantly, we wouldn't make it back within a single day.
"Truly, a man is only as good as his tools."
This was the trump card that would resolve the interminable Demon King's Castle climb in one stroke — a product of a workshop that had made its name in my past life, which I'd hunted down through every rumor and connection just to get my hands on it.
Cheon Yuha drew close, peered at the object, and tilted her head.
"What is this thing?"
"Ah, you don't recognize it? Well then, allow me to enlighten you — I shall reveal the true name of this secret weapon."
Strapping my backpack to my front and the object to my back, I declared:
"Jet Booster."
And then I shot into the sky.
"Another pitch-dark day. Perfect for a nap."
Zoltrak, the Butcher, smiled contentedly as he drained a specially procured, top-grade blood pack.
Giving thanks for the days when food simply arrived without his having to hunt for it, he drifted into memories of the past.
He had been a demon of the Demon Realm — one of the rare species commonly called a vampire, or bloodsucker. Someday, I'll drink human blood. Such was the vague, wistful dream of an innocent young vampire child (age 298).
"Oh, you'll do nicely."
And then, one day, he was kidnapped by a mad immortal.
He was the hope of his bloodline, hailed as a prodigy — but no amount of struggling availed him. In a single motion, his torso and limbs had been folded over six or seven times. Even in that state he resisted, and the immortal, instead of saying a word, simply folded up the sky. The message was clear: don't make a fuss, let's do this the easy way.
...Mom... I'm scared...
The clever little vampire, Zoltrak, grasped the difference in their power and made sure never to trouble the immortal again. He simply waited for whatever fate lay ahead.
And fate assigned him the role of field boss of a darkness-themed Demon Realm. He had been forced into employment.
...Huh?
Zoltrak found himself in an environment much like his homeland, and was permitted to decorate a great castle precisely to his own taste. He gained his own manor. He gained a castle. The runty little vampire of the Demon Realm had become a noble vampire with a domain to his name. Nothing short of a colossal promotion!
True, he had a duty to defend the castle — but even that was no burden. Fights had been constant back in the Demon Realm too, and guarding one's own castle was a master's most basic obligation.
And hardly anyone ever comes in, anyway.
Four intruders per day, at most. The number of heroes in a party opposing the Demon King was fixed at that by some principle or other. He didn't know the full reasoning behind it, but from Zoltrak's perspective, the job had become laughably easy.
Every fool who shows up just smashes the statues to bits, so there's no sneak attacks to worry about. They have to clear the traps on the ridgeline AND beat the gatekeeper just to reach the Demon King's Castle.
And even then, they had to defeat the mid-boss on every single floor before reaching the Demon King's chamber at the very top. The hero parties always arrived half-dead.Dispatching such wretches with ease was how he'd earned the title the Butcher in the first place. They fed him, gave him honor, and even arranged exercise for him when his limbs got stiff from time to time.
"So THIS is what they call a dream job."
Zoltrak vowed to make this place his lifelong employer — his iron rice bowl, never to be given up.
And so today, once again, Zoltrak the Butcher intended to serve his king faithfully. He looked out the window at the mining operation in full swing and thought:
Let's see now. Two of them, so it'll take them a while to break through. Tomorrow's a school day, so they'll turn back partway, right?
By his rough estimate, they'd flounder somewhere around the ridgeline and then head home.
Which meant: nap time.
Zoltrak drained his blood pack, and with his body feeling pleasantly full, lay down in his coffin.
It was the very moment he was about to drift into blissful slumber.
— KRA-KOOOOOM!!!
Without warning, the bedroom wall went airborne. The wall-mounted TV he'd had delivered just the other day was obliterated along with it.
That arrived only yesterday.
Zoltrak stared, dumbfounded, at the two humans standing in the cloud of dust.
Anti-air interception magic was inscribed across the cliff face overhead — no one should have been able to climb it. How on earth had they punched through?
Cough— cough—.
The man and woman, even as they coughed, curled the corners of their mouths into smirks and glanced at each other.
Watching them act like this after demolishing his own room sent his blood pressure soaring. This wasn't the Hall of Decision, the designated arena for battle — it was his personal bedchamber. And they'd broken through the wall to get in?
...Why, you little—.
Zoltrak the Butcher put on an expression of haughty contempt and lifted his beloved weapon — the giant axe, Qual.
It was a weapon he avoided using under normal circumstances, but those bastards had stirred in him a genuine desire to see them dead. To see them expelled from his domain, permanently.
The Demon King Zoltrak declared, with grave resolve:
"Come at me, enemies of my chamber."
And so the struggle between Demon King and heroes began.
Zoltrak, the Butcher.
A vampire warrior who overwhelmed his opponents with innate titanic strength and peerless weapon mastery. A master of attrition warfare thanks to his transcendent regeneration — and with Blood Magic in his arsenal on top of it all, an all-purpose entertainer of a boss. He was said to possess no internal energy in the martial sense, but his overall prowess was best regarded as approaching the Transformation Realm.
But the two of us can beat him. Easily.
Dressed like Count Dracula in a black cape and tailcoat, Zoltrak hefted his twin axes and charged.
"Go, Cheon Yuha! You're up!"
Answering the call, Cheon Yuha launched herself forward. Her red hair whipped behind her as she closed the distance at blinding speed. Beings of transcendent physique, the two of them crossed the room in an instant and met at its center.
The vampire swung one axe even as his free hand wove a sign.
— Blood Magic.
A fishy stench of blood saturated the air.
In the same breath, Cheon Yuha lightly evaded the incoming axe and thrust out her fist.
BOOM! But Zoltrak angled his axe sideways and caught the blow flat against it. Cheon Yuha twisted her agile body around the great axe now planted in the floor.
"First blood to me."
She immediately went for the vampire's torso, his signature, overwhelming momentum gathering in her palm.
"Heavenly Demon Palm."
The vampire did not dodge. He chanted instead.
"Hohl·gehen!"
In that instant, streams of blood came pouring down from the very heavens. A pool of blood had gathered on the floor before anyone noticed it was there.
Even in the moment her hand was outstretched, the Super-Peak martial artist sensed it all through her six senses.
The instant her hand was about to touch the vampire's torso—
BOOM!
Cheon Yuha yanked herself backward. She burned a considerable reserve of internal energy to plant her foot on empty air, then leapt once more.
It was a wise judgment. The vampire, his face twisted with loathing, glared up at her in midair and roared:
"Sturz·flut!"
The blood came to a rolling boil. The crimson flood filling the room from wall to wall began to surge upward like a geyser.
Cheon Yuha happened to glance over her shoulder, and our eyes met. I flashed her a grin and set both hands moving busily.
The result:
KRA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KA-KOOM!!!
The Demon King's Castle exploded.