Dungeon's Final Boss: Banished by My Boss, the Goddess, to Earth—So I'll Continue My Past Life - 110
- Home
- All
- Dungeon's Final Boss: Banished by My Boss, the Goddess, to Earth—So I'll Continue My Past Life
- 110 - Resentment Manufacturing Plant
I will unlock a new chapter every 3 days~ (ง'̀-'́)ง Please rate this novel 5★ on NovelUpdates!
Click HereChapter 110: Resentment Manufacturing Plant
ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー
We moved, aiming for the upper reaches of the River of Blood.
The monsters that appeared now included ones called “Grotesque Butchers,” humanoid monsters with both appearance and names that clearly suggested they were dismantling things they absolutely shouldn’t be. The horror element grew stronger.
However, they didn’t appear in large numbers, and they only came from the corridors, so it actually became easier for me to handle. A bloodstained work uniform and apron that hid their blood-covered faces, paired with a huge industrial meat cleaver.
That combination emerged from the darkness, giving us a full-blown horror cinematic effect. The auto-translator’s communication function started picking up nothing but Claire’s screams.
Maybe I should have sent her back? No, but then again, she came in here after being chased, so…
Even as I wrestled with the thought, I kept moving forward. If I stopped, Claire would yell at me, “Don’t just stand around in a place like this!”
“The main issue is how to keep on fighting. Due to the mass weaponry in Seraphim, we always hit the limit far too fast. Maybe a magic conversion system would be better? Add more batteries? No… Better yet, since this place is brimming with magic power, maybe I should absorb that? Or would it be faster to drain it straight from unprocessed magic stones?”
Other than screams, all I could hear was Heko’s muttering as she sank fully into creative thinking mode.
Having someone muttering constantly in your ears is, in its own way, another type of horror experience…
I thought to myself as we advanced. Taking a more aggressive stance on the offense might end this exploration sooner. As we pressed on, the light from the dungeon disappeared completely.
The river gradually narrowed here and had slipped out of sight beneath a wire mesh along the way. Plop… plop… The sound of water droplets falling at regular intervals echoed.
Seraphim’s light cut into the darkness.
“Eek!”
At the sight illuminated by the beam, Claire gasped, and Heko’s muttering stopped.
“…Disgusting.”
Even I had to grimace at the sight. My eyes, able to pierce the darkness, took in the space in detail. It was a dome-like, semi-circular chamber. From the ceiling, countless ropes hung down toward the center.
At the ends of the ropes were female-type monsters with their abdomens split open. The black hats and black robes they had been “born” with were in tatters. From their slack mouths peeked saw-like teeth—a distinctive trait that told me their name at once.
Witches.
Specifically, Mordred, the lowest class among witch-type monsters. They weren’t that good at magic, but they moved quickly, and their saw-like bite carried a curse-type debuff. They might have been a bit different from the witches generally imagined by Earthlings, but they were still witches.
These witches hung from ropes, their bellies split open. The faint sound of dripping water came from what spilled from the Mordred. Embedded into the walls forming the dome were several spherical blocks.
Those were Recovery Blocks. They were special-effect blocks used in traps built into a dungeon floor, and as their name suggested, they granted a healing effect to any being—friend or foe—that approached them. It didn’t matter if the target was organic or inorganic, as long as it was an active entity in the dungeon.
Proof of that lay in the way the combat scars carved into Seraphim’s armor were fading. The split-bellied Mordred twitched faintly, weakly asserting their continued survival. They were being kept alive by the regeneration effect of the Recovery Blocks.
From deeper within came a new presence. Lumbering into view was the Grotesque Butcher that had been blocking our way earlier. It ignored us, checked the state of one of the Mordred, and pointed its meat cleaver at her.
“&%$$$%$$%!!”
A soundless scream rang out. Ignoring it, the Grotesque Butcher worked the meat cleaver, cutting something out from within the Mordred. The Mordred who had been screaming then coughed up something from her mouth.
It looked like nothing more than a lump of blood, but after sheathing its cleaver into the scabbard on its apron, the Butcher picked it up and retreated further back. The dripping sound was Blood of the Defeated. The thing cut out was the Womb of a Witch. The lump of blood spat out was Condensed Resentment.
So this was how Curse Resonators were produced. I had a general idea already, but seeing it in person still hit hard.
“W-what is… What is this? What are they doing?”
“A facility to extract…Something from monsters? But what would they do with something like that…?”
“I’m sorry, you two.”
“Eh?” “Eh?”
I apologized first, then cast 【Sleep】on both of them. Piercing through the anti-magic resistance built into Seraphim’s armor, I put the two in the cockpit to sleep.
“I’ve lost any will to take my time. I’ll crush this immediately.”
But first…
With 【Clawless Strike】, I cut the ropes restraining the Mordred. Then, with 【Heal】, I rapidly closed their wounds. The Mordred regained their strength—and turned hostile toward me.
That automatic hostility was proof they were creations of the dungeon. It would be easy to kill them, but…
『Is that really what you want?』
I asked them.
『Just because you are their creations, do you intend to continue obeying the one who cursed you with such a fate? If so, then you should not be opposing me. You should go hang yourselves on those ropes again. Then the Grotesque Butcher will once more split your belly open to fulfill its role.』
The question, spoken in the Universal Language, reached them. The Mordred did not move.
They had been created solely for the possession of the Womb of a Witch. The Blood of the Defeated was born of being made to realize they were pitiful beings, so much so that even their blood was steeped in that awareness. The Condensed Resentment was the concentrated emotion of lives that could do nothing but spit out their pain toward the being that forced such existence upon them.
Yes… Condensed Resentment. If they were spitting up such things, their hatred toward their creator had already been well cultivated. And yet, even so…
“If even so, you cannot free yourselves from the yoke of being dungeon monsters…”
I reached out my hand invitingly and crooked my fingers.
“Then fight me, the one who seeks to destroy this dungeon.”
The Mordred did not move.
“But if you wish instead to destroy this dungeon alongside me… Bow your heads. I will release you from the dungeon’s bonds. The price will be my rule. A new master. Not freedom. But I will give you work befitting dungeon monsters.”
The skill 【Monster Master】 moved to bring the Mordred under my control. I could have forced the domination. I had the strength to do so. But I deliberately chose to ask for their will.
Born of suffering, what would their self-awareness choose?
The Mordred bowed their heads.
“Destroy.”
“Destroy.”
“Annihilate.”
“Destroy.”
“Annihilate.”
Such voices resonated from them.
“Good. Then accept it. And accept new power as well.”
Yes.
I would allocate to them the experience points I had taken from the Black Minotaurus. The Mordred, having gained enough experience, began to evolve.
Once raggedly dressed in black hats and robes, bestial witches, their image now inverted as they floated lightly in the air. Their biological aspect vanished, replaced with porcelain-like skin and insect wings, like French dolls.
They were now called Feoretta, a witch-type monster with a form leaning toward the fairy type.
Yes… While I was at it, I would also summon the Lesser Fenrir I had previously dominated. Fully recovered, the Lesser Fenrir lowered itself and pressed its head to the floor when it saw me.
“We are going to conquer the dungeon now. You will assist them.”
Realizing there would be a fight, the Lesser Fenrir wagged its tail happily.
Yes, this is how dungeon monsters should be.
I summoned the golems as well and tasked them with guarding the two sleeping inside Seraphim, and then we headed toward the deepest depths.
ーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーーー





































