Mr Devourer, Please Act Like a Final Boss - Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

“I’m sorry for coming so suddenly. It’s always a favor.”

“No need to apologize. Helping each other among neighbors is only natural. I had nothing to do anyway.”

Snip, a sound echoed as a few strands of Renee’s silver hair fell to the ground.

Elizabeth Batory, the boss of ‘Cheite Castle,’ one of the The Seven Great Evil Dungeons, chuckled. Each time her beauty scissors moved swiftly, Renee’s body trembled slightly. Whether it was because the length of the falling hair was longer than she thought or not, Renee’s gaze kept turning toward the ground. Ignoring Renee’s uneasy behavior, Batory hummed a tune happily.

“As expected, anything looks beautiful if the foundation is pretty. When I went inside the dungeon last time, it was quite humid, but living in a place like that, having such smooth skin is cheating, really. I envy the Humunculus in times like this. Not aging at all.”

“Even if you say that, Miss Batory, you look much younger than Renee. Your skin is much fairer too.”

“Don’t flatter me. How much blood do you think I use in a day?”

At Batory’s lament, Renee smiled awkwardly. She didn’t express her thanks, but Renee’s blushing face was conveying gratitude. Batory, with a satisfied expression, looked at Renee’s reflection in the mirror.

In the mirror, instead of a ‘Blood-stained Homunculus,’ there was an ‘Ordinary, shy girl.’

“By the way, Renee. Who are you dressing up for? Are you trying to impress someone? Confessing your feelings, perhaps?”

“Confession… Yes, I’m going to confess. Yes, I’ll confess.”

“Huh? Is it real? I thought it was a joke. Then who’s the other person? Don’t tell me, a human?”

“No, it’s Mr. Devourer.”

“You’re making an incredible joke so casually.”

“It’s not a joke. I’m going to confess to Mr. Devourer this time.”

Perplexed, Batory waved her hand, and the ghost in the form of a maid, which had brought the full-length mirror, nodded and hid its appearance. After confirming that there was no one around, Batory whispered to Renee.

“…Is it serious? Are you really confessing to Devourer? What’s good about him? Isn’t he a bastard whose strengths are hard to even point out?”

“He has lots of strengths. He’s reliable.”

“Reliable… Yeah, he must be the most reliable in the world. I guess he’d protect you even if a great flood happened. But he’s so lazy that it emphasizes his reliability. On top of that, he’s unnecessarily big, so his laziness stands out more.”

“Yes, he’s lazy. He’s big. He eats sloppily, sleeps as he pleases every day, snores when he sleeps. He’s even developed a belly recently.”

‘If you’re going to confess, you’re saying quite harsh things.’ Smirking at Batory, Renee also laughed.

Maintaining her smile, Batory looked at Renee’s reflection in the mirror again.

In the mirror was a girl in love. Nothing less, nothing more.

* * *

The capital of the empire, Riaze.

Although it was named a city, its size surpassed that of several ordinary cities combined. It was an exceptional case where a city had absorbed and swelled up other cities around it through economic and political pressure, becoming a city-state, so some referred to it as such.

With the power and military might to stand against bordering nations, it served as the ultimate destination where all culture and wealth converged. It was the city of the emperor, the heart of the empire, essentially the empire itself.

Therefore, everything outstanding in the empire existed in Riaze, and the most crucial institutions were gathered there.

Even the “Dungeon Raid Union Headquarters,” which managed numerous expedition teams and handled vital dungeon-related information, was no exception.

The grand hall of the “Dungeon Raid Union Headquarters” was adorned with golden shields and patterns of silver swords on the carpet and curtains. The huge room, with the imperial flag decorating it, created an atmosphere reminiscent of a banquet. However, at the center of that space was not a spacious stage but a large and glamorous round table.

Those surrounding the splendid round table were all individuals of noble status. By looking at the chandelier hanging above the center of the table and the luxurious glassware placed as numerous as the chairs, one could gauge their positions.

However, in such a place, the things that usually would be seen, like personal bodyguards or symbols of each family’s influence, were nowhere to be found. Amidst the hustle and bustle, only an eerie atmosphere of fear permeated the space.

Two days had passed since Vern Hüschaltz, one of the empire’s three heroes, led his expedition team towards the Primordial Core.

No one had returned.

The foul energy emanating from the Primordial Core persisted.

Humans, Vern Hishutslt’s, and his expedition team.

“…It is presumed that they have been annihilated.”

They had lost.

Even though it was stated as a presumption, no one accepted it as such. It was a clear declaration of death.

Using a concise formal announcement as a pretext, anger and screams that had been barely suppressed began erupting all around. It was quite a sight to see normally composed nobles shouting in such a manner. Truly, it was chaos. But it was only natural because no one sitting around this table had anticipated such a situation.

In the midst of the chaos, questions were thrown. The anger that had been wandering aimlessly, having lost its target, was directed toward the young man reporting the results. Questions and accusations poured towards him as if he had done something wrong.

When asked how they could claim annihilation when no bodies were found, the answer came that not even corpses were discovered. To the question of whether they hadn’t easily defeated the guards up to the gateway, the response was that communication had been lost since then.

To the question of whether it made sense for Vern to die at the hands of monsters—

No answer came.

An absurd barrage of questions in the midst of a chaotic scene.

In the midst of that chaotic scene, amidst the discomfort and silence, the unprecedented investor, ‘Phaemore du Bellaie,’ let out a heavy sigh. Amidst the grey strands of hair pushed back, sporadic patches of white revealed the burden he carried.

“These idiots…”

In this chaos, it seemed that more than half of those present still hadn’t grasped the situation.

The Primordial Core was not as large or complex a dungeon as one might think. Although each room was unusually spacious, the dungeon itself wasn’t as massive as to take days and nights to traverse. Considering this, Vern’s expedition team, led by Phaemore, ventured into the dungeon without even preparing a day’s worth of provisions.

If the load is too heavy, it results in a loss of agility, which translates to a loss of strength. Especially when it’s not a dungeon that will take several days to conquer.

Either kill them all on the same day you enter, or be killed by all.

—Two days had passed since they entered such a dungeon.

And what’s this? How can you say they were annihilated? All this time, have we, experts who regarded fools as nothing more than blockheads, been sitting here and discussing with these idiots who couldn’t even handle that? It’s the end, the end of an era.

In frustration, Phaemore wiped his forehead. After scanning the surroundings with an irritated gaze, his eyes met with the young man who had been stuttering through the questions. Clearing his throat, Phaemore politely asked,

“Is there any more information…? Yes, what about the Hishutslt family’s sacred sword?”

“…It seems that the 14th masterpiece, Tanabella, is considered irretrievable. Since communication magic was severed from the heart of the Primordial Core, we can only assume it’s somewhere within the Primordial Core.”

“Sigh.”

Even Tanabella… This is truly the worst. Phaemore muttered, running his tongue briefly over his lips.

Vern was dead. Vern, the warrior known as the strongest in the empire.

This defeat was on a different level from the defeat of an ordinary expedition team.

In dungeon conquests, the name Vern Hishutslt meant victory. He had single-handedly conquered the two demon castles that various expedition teams had failed to conquer, the boiling Aggrumund, the witch of the Undermountain’s snowy plains, and even the dragon of Tamriel, known as the Forbidden Land.

All of it was built by Vern. He was a man known as the Undying Warrior. Even if he suffered wounds so severe that he couldn’t lift a sword again, he would miraculously recover. More than anything, his skills, character, virtue, and humility—he possessed everything and had been awarded the highest decoration, the title of ‘hero,’ by the Emperor himself.

Yes, Vern was a hero. The spiritual leader of the imperial citizens.

And that hero was dead.

How did things get so tangled up?

Phaemore’s forehead showed a burst of veins. The ‘symbol’ had crumbled. Vern, who was called the hope of the empire, the symbol, had disappeared, and with that, the hope of the imperial citizens vanished as well. At least, that’s how it would be perceived by the imperial citizens.

Moreover, this was not a situation that only affected the imperial citizens. Since the title of ‘hero’ was directly bestowed by the Emperor, the nobility considered the hero as their possession. The hero existed for the imperial citizens, and since the imperial citizens’ owner was the Emperor, by the logic of being the Emperor’s possession, the hero belonged to the Emperor as well.

When Vern declared that he would conquer the Primordial Core, who here tried to stop him? Wasn’t almost everyone around here waving their swords in celebration? Didn’t they shout for joy, thinking that losing was unimaginable and looking forward to the money and glory that would return several times over later?

Yes, we threw the hero worshipped by the nobility into death. Even if that’s not the case, if the Emperor thinks so, that’s what it is.

And that alone was not enough. The entire imperial leadership, including the Emperor, was closely watching one of the 36 masterpieces, Tanavella, being lost.

—Can the one who committed this crime bear the weight of it on their own?

When the stress had completely filled his head, Phaemore woke up again to the loud voices coming from all directions. It seemed that the chaos had subsided to some extent, and the investors and nobles who had been causing a ruckus were engaged in fervent discussions.

It was a discussion about whether they should continue to conquer the Primordial Core.

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