“We’ll Definitely Come Back to Save You!” — It’s Been Three Years Since I Was Left in the Most Difficult Dungeon, Isn’t It About Time for Help to Arrive...? - 10-11

Chapter 10: It Should Be Impossible, but Still—

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The Special Operations Room, a facility normally reserved only for large-scale monster invasions or the subjugation of disaster-class monsters, was now occupied. Around the central table sat the Guild Master and a number of high-ranking individuals.

“Let’s first review the situation. I heard you submitted this report, but is everything written here truly factual?”

The question came from a commanding man seated at the head of the table, his face framed by a thick white beard. His piercing gaze swept across the room, making everyone unconsciously straighten their backs.

“Y-Yes! That’s correct…!”

The man, a guild-affiliated investigator, stammered as he responded, overwhelmed by the Guild Master’s imposing presence. Still, he spoke plainly of what he had witnessed.

“A massive exodus of monsters from Niflheim, a woman radiating an intense murderous aura, and a figure—presumably the Demon Lord—who commanded them and flew off atop a black dragon… If all of this is true, then the Guild must respond accordingly…”

“We can’t afford to ignore this, not with Niflheim still shrouded in so many mysteries! And more importantly, if someone really exists who can command monsters equal to, or stronger than, mid-level boss monsters, there’s no way we can handle this problem on our own! We need to immediately request reinforcements from nearby Guild branches—”

“—Silence!”

The Guild Master’s firm command cut through the heated debate, bringing order to the chaotic room.

“…In this case, I believe we should speak to those who know the matter firsthand. What say you, members of the only party to reach the bottom of Niflheim—‘Ordoll’?”

All eyes turned to the group of adventurers—the only non-guild personnel present.

“So that’s why we were called.”

Said a knight seated comfortably in his chair. Tossing his gleaming blond hair, he clinked noisily in his polished armor as he laughed.

“Given that we’re the only ones with firsthand experience of Niflheim’s depths and lived to tell the tale, it makes sense. As leader of the party, I, Wurfe, will gladly offer my full cooperation!”

Beside him, a red-haired fighter girl with her hair parted on either side bit her lip hard.

“…We didn’t ‘survive’ anything. We just ran away…”

She then continued. Her murmur was filled with regret beyond comparison. 

“…If only I’d been stronger, faster…”

However, her quiet murmur was swept away by the breeze from the window, unheard by anyone else.

“…Before we go on, can someone tell me—what exactly is a Demon Lord?”

The question came from a short, silver-haired wizard who asked with genuine confusion.

“A Demon Lord is a title once given to a person who controlled monsters at will and brought massive devastation to humanity.”

The Saintess explained calmly. 

“Back then, there were far fewer Guilds, and it’s said that defeating the Demon Lord was a monumental struggle…”

“Indeed, as Saintess-dono says.” 

Added the Guild Master.

“Though human, the Demon Lord could communicate with monsters and command them as if they were extensions of their own body. They sent them across the continent to commit countless atrocities. Now—did you encounter any such monsters during your expedition into Niflheim?”

“No… At least among the monsters we fought, I don’t believe any had that kind of overwhelming power.”

“I see… Then perhaps the source lies outside Niflheim—or emerged inside the dungeon after your team’s attempt…”

“…There’s one place… One place we didn’t explore.”

The fighter girl said quietly. Everyone in the party widened their eyes in realization.

“—Of course! The boss room!”

“The boss monster in Niflheim could be the Demon Lord… Or at the very least, the title wouldn’t be undeserved…”

“Yeah… But if that’s the case, then who was that woman with murderous intent mentioned earlier? There’s no way someone could live in a place like that…”

“Probably just a servant or something. With power on par with a mid-tier monster, maybe. The one we really need to worry about is that Demon Lord. Still… Who’d have thought the Demon Lord was easy to submit to carnal desires? I mean, I kinda relate to that. Right, guys—”

“Excuse me.”

The Saintess interjected flatly, ignoring the knight’s suggestive comment. 

“Guild Master, is there anything else we know about this Demon Lord?”

The Guild Master nodded and instructed a nearby staff member to bring something over. A sheet of phantom paper—called a Vistia—was handed to him.

“This is a Vistia capturing the moment the Demon Lord flew off riding a dragon. We’re currently checking the guild records for any similar monsters, but I’d like you all to take a look as well.”

The four adventurers turned their eyes to the sheet in unison.

“”””—!!”””

On that freshly captured Vistia was an image no one should ever have seen—something impossible. And yet, there was no mistaking the figure shown.

It was him.

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Chapter 11: Traces of Tears

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“…No way.”

The first to speak was Ripley. Her hand, famed for its speed, trembled slightly as she widened her eyes, her lips moving as if searching for the right words.

“This… This is Athos, right…? But Athos was supposed to be dead…!”

Even as she was consumed by doubt and confusion, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the picture. The image of the man she had thought she’d never see again—one who had appeared countless times in her dreams—was burned into her mind. As she tried to deny the reality before her, an even greater surge of emotion came flooding in.

“…Athos-san…”

Tears welled up in Eishia’s eyes almost instantly. Her trembling fingertips touched the corner of the phantom paper, Vistia, and then froze.

“There’s no mistake… It’s him. Has a miracle…Really happened…?”

Her voice quivered at the miracle before her eyes, and the feelings welling up from deep inside her burst forth like a broken dam.

“…Athos…”

Midi narrowed her eyes and stared intently at the phantom paper, Vistia. Though her expression remained unchanged, her gaze clearly wavered. Even the small smile that barely escaped her lips was proof enough of the joy she felt.

The distorted sense of loss that had clung to her chest began to crumble with an audible shift, all from a single slip of paper. Everyone present wavered between the reality they didn’t want to believe, and the hope they desperately wished to.

And that included this man—he was no exception.

Bang!!!

“You lot, look closely! There’s no way this sinister-looking bastard is the Athos we knew! He must’ve been killed by monsters in Niflheim and turned into a Demon Lord or something! Guild Master, leave this to us! As his former party members, we’ll send him off properly!”

Wurfe slammed both hands on the table, his breath ragged as he shouted toward the Guild Master.

“Athos… Athos Shildrad, huh. I see. We received a report that he died in battle in Niflheim… so he’s been tainted by the miasma and strayed from the path of humanity. Very well. As the Guild Master, I hereby order the party Ordoll to subjugate Demon Lord Athos.”

With that declaration, the Guild Master handed the Vistia back to the guild staff.

“Make copies of this Vistia immediately and distribute them as wanted posters throughout the city. Warn all citizens. Also tell the adventurers that those who bring in verified information about the Demon Lord will be awarded a special reward.”

“””Understood!”””

Thus the meeting reached its conclusion, and everyone began to move with purpose toward their respective missions and goals.

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“Who would’ve thought that bastard is still alive…”

At the remains of the old guild branch—a decrepit building on the outskirts of town—Wurfe bit at his neatly trimmed nails, struggling to contain his rising frustration.

“I left him in the lowest level of Niflheim! How the hell is he still alive, damn it! What a pain in the ass!”

He kicked over the old tables and chairs scattered around, letting his fury lash out indiscriminately. Even as they crashed and splintered with loud clatters, his rage did not subside. He continued rampaging, smashing whatever caught his eye. It was only possible because the old guild branch had long been forgotten, now a derelict ruin no one ever visited.

“Haa… Haa… Haa… Well, there’s no need to panic. This time, I’ll just make sure to kill him for real. Isn’t that right—you guys?”

Wurfe pulled a deep purple crystal from his coat and spoke toward the darkness of the ruins.

“………”

No reply came from the three standing behind him—Eishia, Ripley, and Midi. That silence was exactly the answer Wurfe wanted.

“Right after we abandoned Athos, you kept whining about ‘Let’s go save him!’ so I got this Illusion Orb, the Nezaria Orb, from the black market to shut you up… Never thought it’d come in this handy now.”

Wurfe poured his own magic power into the Illusion Orb, Nezaria, and directed the intense, ominous light that flared within it at the three women.

“Listen up. I’ll say it one more time. ‘Athos is dead. He was killed by monsters in Niflheim and turned into a monster-controlling abomination. That’s why we have to kill him—for his own good.’… Got it?”

“Yes…”

“Yeah…”

“Mhm…”

The three of them responded in perfect unison—as if one person’s movement had caused the others to follow. The light had vanished from their eyes, now dominated by the magic glow, and only the trails of tears they once shed in joy over his survival remained.

“Good. That’s what I wanted. …That bastard Atho… Sure, I was surprised, but honestly, I’m glad he showed up again. Demon Lord or not, I can’t believe the Guild Master basically gave us official approval to kill him. Seems the goddess of fortune is still smiling on me after all. Ahahahahahaha!”

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