The Specialized Lord Nurturing Device
'What a letdown.'
That was Arthur's thought as he clutched his pierced abdomen.
Around him, corpses were piled up like mountains.
'The coward Arthur, they called me. The time I joined the subjugation force was when I was nineteen, right?'
He had gone on countless expeditions as part of the Iphillis Empire's army.
'That's when this Lord Game started too.'
The random summoning to the Asgard Continent.
People from hundreds of continents had begun the Lord Game.
'Challenging the Great Overlord... and ending up like this.'
The final war to challenge the Great Overlord.
He had ultimately lost.
Arthur looked around.
So many who had believed in him and followed him lay dead.
Arthur was the first human in the Lord Game to come close to the Great Overlord.
With death looming, a flood of thoughts raced through his mind.
'If I'd gotten superior artifacts before anyone else, things might have been different.'
Life's turning points.
And the countless artifacts he had failed to obtain.
If he had gotten them.
With that power alone, he might have become the Great Overlord.
Challenging the Great Overlord without that power had been impossible.
'If I hadn't struck first, we'd have died even more pathetically anyway.'
It had been the right choice.
The five Great Overlords of different races had been pondering how to toy with and kill humans, who were like ants before an elephant.
'Reality was no better... not a single decent thing there either.'
His real life had been equally unsatisfying.
He had lost his mother and couldn't even avenge her.
On top of that, he hadn't even reached the lord master position he so desperately wanted.
Arthur touched the necklace hanging around his neck.
A heirloom of the Press family.
In moments of dilemma or when caught in a bind, he had developed the unconscious habit of fiddling with this necklace.
"This is your limit."
The demon Great Overlord Baal approached, trampling the corpses of his comrades.
Arthur let out a feeble chuckle.
Gathering his last strength, he drew the dagger strapped to his thigh.
"Going to fight?"
Baal sneered.
"I've got something for you..."
Trailing off, Arthur raised his middle finger.
"Eat shit."
With those words, Arthur charged at Baal without hesitation, squeezing out his final burst of energy.
Slash.
Thud.
Roll.
His head separated from his body.
His vision plummeted to the ground.
His eyes grew heavy.
'If I could start over...'
He could change so much, both in reality and the Lord Game.
As his eyes fully closed, the necklace began to glow.
The Stone of Regression activates.
Breathing was suffocating. That was Arthur's first thought. He turned his head to look around.
But all he saw was darkness.
"Ugh..."
"What happens to us now?"
He heard the voices of frightened people.
Was he alive?
As that thought crossed his mind—
Whoosh!
The thing blocking his vision and making it hard to breathe was peeled away.
A black hood.
As the hood came off, Arthur realized his eyes hadn't seen light in a long time. He winced instinctively.
He looked around.
The people were all wearing black hoods, their wrists and ankles bound with rope.
There were about fifteen of them. And he could tell they were in a mountain.
It wasn't a paved road.
He and the others were in the middle of a dense thicket of trees and grass.
Arthur also saw that the one who had removed his hood was not human—a goblin.
The goblins had them surrounded.
"Kieek, kieek."
The goblins began removing the others' hoods too.
"Wh-where is this...?"
As their hoods came off, the people trembled like aspen leaves.
Looking at their faces, Arthur was soon surprised.
'...Familiar faces.'
Their faces, this situation, even the mountain.
If his guess was right?
Another goblin removed the black hood from the man next to Arthur.
"Puhh!"
A man exhaled roughly.
It was Hans, a servant of the Press family that the old Arthur had belonged to.
'...!'
His guess was spot on. Everything matched his memory.
The reason these people had been captured by goblins.
They were a merchant caravan crossing from Brat Territory to Kallis Territory, or the territory folk traveling with them.
Brat and Kallis Territories were so close they were called brother territories. So they usually traveled with minimal personnel and guards.
But midway, a Dungeon Master had ambushed them with a monster horde.
Dungeon Master.
They were the ones running the Dungeon Master game on this continent where Arthur resided, the Asgard Continent.
They operated dungeons.
"Young master, are you alright?"
It was just like before.
As soon as his hood was off, Hans calmly scanned the surroundings and asked the same question.
Arthur nodded.
Seeing him again brought joy, but now was the time to assess the situation properly.
'The Stone of Regression.'
In a flash, he recalled the alert he'd heard just before dying to Baal.
He instinctively touched his neck.
Gone.
The necklace he always wore was missing.
He confirmed three things.
First, Arthur himself had returned to his sixteen-year-old past.
Second, he had another chance to challenge the Great Overlord in the Lord Game.
Third, knowing the future meant he could change a lot.
The first future he would change was—
'Saving Hans.'
Arthur thought this as he watched Hans check if he was injured.
Hans had been a loyal servant and his one true friend.
"No matter what happens, stay right by my side, young master."
Hans spoke with steadfast eyes, as if to say trust only him.
He was a giant at 190 cm, with a solidly built frame.
Arthur had truly missed him.
How could he not?
Hans had told him to run and held off the monsters alone.
And what had he done?
'I ran. I wanted to live so badly. And stupidly believed Hans would make it back alive.'
Hans had told him:
'Watch from below, young master.'
He had cleared a path for escape, flashing a toothy grin as Arthur fled.
But when Arthur returned with the territory army?
Not even his body could be found.
'I was a coward.'
Coward Arthur.
That was what people in his hometown, Brat Territory, called him.
He had been a natural-born coward, but back then, he was truly pathetic.
'Not anymore.'
Arthur could see Hans trying to act calm.
Swallowing dryly, he gave a small reassuring smile.
'I won't let you die.'
As he thought that, the goblins finally began prodding the people to their feet with their weapons.
"Kieek, kieek."
The people rose, faces pale with fear, and followed.
With ankles bound, they hopped along like rabbits.
Soon, they arrived at the dungeon entrance.
Dungeons held rare treasures—and monsters.
The reason the goblins had brought them here was simple.
Every time people entered and were killed by dungeon monsters, the Dungeon Master earned gold and experience.
These captives, barely able to fight, would yield only meager amounts.
That meant the Dungeon Master was bottom-tier.
And desperately in need of funds to rebuild right now.
It was a sleazy tactic Dungeon Masters used.
The goblins pointed inside the dungeon.
But no one stepped forward willingly.
Anyone could guess there were monsters inside.
"No, I don't want to!"
A middle-aged man thrashed and screamed as a goblin shoved him toward the entrance.
At that moment—
Crack!
"Urk!"
One goblin smashed the man's knee with a stone axe.
Splurt!
"Gah!"
As the man collapsed, another goblin swung its stone axe down on his head with full force.
As the man's eyes glazed over and he fell, the goblins swarmed like it was a show of force, hacking his head repeatedly.
Splurt!
Splurt!
Splurt!
Blood spurted from the man's head, splattering everywhere.
"Ugh..."
Young and old, men and women—all turned away from the gruesome sight.
"For now, we should head inside."
An elderly man's voice rang out.
Arthur turned.
A man who looked about sixty stood there, his tattered clothes revealing impressive residual muscle despite his age.
"With our wrists and ankles bound, resisting will just get us killed."
His words were convincing, backed by the goblins' recent actions.
"We'll go in, find a way out. Name's Kellon. I used to lead a squad in an ogre unit."
Ogre unit.
A once-renowned, solid force.
A spark of hope lit the people's faces.
Though old, they began to nurture faint optimism through him.
He drove it home:
"Goblins? I've faced hundreds in my time."
The people nodded.
One by one, they entered the dungeon.
Soon, only a single goblin followed inside, and the door shut.
The goblin untied the ropes on a woman's wrists and ankles, then hurriedly dashed deeper in.
Thud!
Thud!
Thud!
As the goblin ran, the dim dungeon lit up brightly.
The woman knew what to do.
She quickly untied the others.
Entering a dungeon bound meant the Dungeon Master gained nothing from them.
The dungeon recognized contrived situations.
But once unbound?
'It signals the start of the raid.'
In a way, Arthur was now free from his bindings too.
Hans naturally stuck close to Arthur's side.
"Those who can't fight, move to the back."
The old man, Kellon, issued calm orders.
The women mostly retreated.
Kellon glanced at Arthur and Hans.
A burly giant of a man and a slender boy with short silver hair who could pass for a girl.
He pointed at Hans, skipping Arthur.
"You too, step forward."
"I must protect Young Master Arthur."
"...You can't protect him without blocking the goblins first."
It might have been Hans's excessive zeal, or selfishness.
Others shot him disdainful looks.
Hans turned to Arthur.
'At the very least, I won't let those bastards reach you.'
Meeting Arthur's eyes, he stepped forward confidently, as if to say trust only him.
Watching his back, Arthur thought:
Hans had truly cherished me.
"Kieeeek, kieeeek."
"Kieek!"
Finally, monster cries echoed from deeper within.
Goblins.
This dungeon seemed filled mostly with the lowest-grade monsters.
Seven stepped up front.
"Stay calm. They're weaker than they seem. Fear slows you down and dulls your attacks—that's why they feel strong."
Kellon spoke while eyeing ahead.
Soon, the goblins appeared.
They wielded crude daggers, stone axes, paralyzing needles, and such.
About eleven of them.
Kellon charged boldly.
Tat-tat-tat!
He easily dodged the lead goblin's stone axe swing, then kicked its face—its head barely reaching his chest.
Splat!
"Kieek!"
In one move, the goblin's facial bones shattered; it seemed combat-ineffective.
"...Th-they're not that tough?"
A man muttered.
The next to charge was none other than Hans.
'Young master must be terrified right now. I have to show him—I can protect you.'
With that thought, Hans leaped out and smashed his fist into a goblin aiming for Kellon's side.
Splat!
The blow was so powerful the goblin flew back and crashed into a wall.
"L-let's go us too."
"Fuck, they're nothing!"
The people surged forward, engaging the goblins.
Indeed, the goblins were weaker than expected.
Hans had already downed two with his massive frame.
Right then—
A paralyzing needle flew toward Hans's neck.
'Damn... it's gonna hit.'
As he thought that—
Whoosh!
Someone yanked him back from behind.