“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...? - 16-17

Chapter 16: Athos Snapped!

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“Y-You guys… Is it really you?”

After three years, my former party members had changed—noticeably, but not unrecognizably.

The first one who caught my eye was Eishia. The soft warmth she had as the saintess once praised by many still remained, but she had grown taller. Her shoulders and hips taking on a more distinctly feminine silhouette. Though her face still held some youthful innocence, a quiet strength and composure now stood out among the rest.

Next, I looked at Ripley. Her appearance hadn’t changed much; she was still about eye-level with me. But her well-trained arms and legs now radiated a sharpness far beyond what I remembered. No doubt her famed speed had only improved.

And then there was Midi. Her silver hair, which used to barely touch her ears, now flowed past her shoulders, glimmering even more than before. The once-baggy robe she wore now fit perfectly, fluttering around her slender frame like it truly belonged to her.

If that had been all, I might’ve chalked it up to time working its magic—but there was one more change I couldn’t ignore. All three of them… Had no light in their eyes. Like poorly made imitations, they lacked the very “essence” that made them who they were.

“…Athos-san.”

Eishia slowly opened her mouth. There was an eerie stillness to her voice, like a statue had come to life—and the moment passed in a heartbeat. From the magic circle that appeared at her feet, chains of light shot out and bound me in place.

“—Flash of Lightning: Pierce!”

Without hesitation, Ripley shot across the ground, her body becoming a fierce projectile as she launched a kick. Bound at the arms and legs, I had no options—

BOOM!!!

The air shattered with the impact of her “light-speed” strike, and a shockwave shook my hair. I was able to perceive all this because I was still conscious—and I owed that entirely to the person in front of me, who had crossed her arms to absorb the full brunt of the attack.

“…Coming at someone with a kick right away… What’s your problem?”

“…Who even are you? Why are you with that Athos?”

“I don’t owe you an answer—take this!”

Hel flung up her arms and deflected Ripley with force. Ripley twisted midair and landed deftly, stepping back to avoid a follow-up attack.

“Abyss Flare!”

A torrent of fire magic, leagues stronger than what that earlier adventurer had cast, rained down over Hel’s head. I forcibly ripped free from the chains binding my limbs, drew my greatsword, and stepped forward.

“Hel! Get behind me!”

At the very moment the magic struck the blade, searing flashes of light lit up the surroundings. The blast sent debris flying, and the flames licked at my hair again and again.

“Haaaaaaaah!!!”

I had no room to retreat, so I braced myself and met the fireball head-on, my feet gouging into the ground as I held firm.

“…Athos, stay still… Or I won’t be able to kill you…”

“And I’m asking why you need to kill me—!?”

Something was wrong. Clearly, something was deeply wrong. Sure, it had been three years, but there was no way these three would attack me first without even trying to talk… As I slashed through one spell after another, still dazed by confusion, Wurfe, who had been lingering in the back, slowly curled his lip and drew his sword from its sheath.

“Why? Because you’ve become the Demon Lord, obviously. Don’t worry. For old time’s sake, we’ll put you down before you embarrass yourself any further.”

He raised his shield and rushed in with a slash. I knocked him back—and all the fury welling up inside me surged forward at the four of them.

“…So that’s how it is. You’re all here to kill me because I’m some so-called Demon Lord, huh…? I waited three years, believing you’d come to save me. I endured all that time… And when you never came, I finally made it back on my own…”

“Tough break. But you’re already dead. Coming back now changes nothing.”

Those words from Wurfe—those were the last straw. The latch called “mercy” I’d barely managed to keep shut… Snapped.

“Alright, that’s it! I’m done! I’m gonna beat all of you senseless and force you to sit down and listen to me!”

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Chapter 17: The Fallen Sword

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“Beat us? You seriously think you can take on the four of us? Did the shock of being left behind mess up your head or something!?”

With a sneer full of overflowing confidence, Wurfe looked at me, only for Hel to turn her gaze toward me instead.

“…I’ll take on that foul-mouthed redhead and, while I’m at it, the mage behind her. I’ve got a score to settle with both of them.”

“Got it. I’ll handle Eishia and Wurfe. Just—”

“You’re about to say ‘don’t melt them or injure them unnecessarily,’ right? I know… You’re surprisingly calm, aren’t you?”

“…If we’re going to fight them seriously, I can’t afford to lose my cool.”

I took a deep breath and rechecked the grip on my sword.

“It won’t be easy, but can you do it?”

“Of course. That’s a stupid question. I’m leaving them to you.”

Hel broke off and, just as she declared, closed the distance toward Ripley and Midi.

“So that woman’s after us. Let’s intercept her, Midi!”

“…Roger.”

Ripley lunged forward at the speed of light, so fast even sound was left behind. Just as Ripley’s kick, glowing crimson, was about to strike Hel, she ducked down low, nearly scraping the ground, and dodged the attack.

“…To dodge my second kick already? You’re no ordinary person.”

“Not really. You’re just slow, aren’t you?”

“That may be true. But—”

Ripley looked back. Above Midi’s head, magical energy was surging.

“—Frostfire…”

With that chant, Midi unleashed a swirling mass of blazing heat and freezing cold from her staff—an abnormal energy that distorted the air and warped gravity as it surged toward Hel.

“…That’s definitely powerful magic. But—”

Hel raised her hand calmly in front of her, palm facing outward. From it poured a jet-black mist, like ink dissolving in water. The toxic-looking fog, thick enough to corrode the very air, devoured the spiraling flames and ice with a hideous sizzle, erasing their very existence.

“The higher the spell rank, the less effective it is against me. I can find any little crack and rot it from the inside.”

Hel’s words weren’t bravado. Midi’s eyes narrowed slightly in response, though her face remained unreadable.

“…Then I’ll just hit you before you get the chance to touch me. Cover me.”

“I’m on it. Let’s go—!”

While the Hel vs. Ripley and Midi brawl erupted, I turned my sword on the remaining two.

“So? Still think I can’t take on the four of you?”

Wurfe, witnessing the back-and-forth clash firsthand, let out a huff. His face now slick with sweat.

“T-Tch… Sure, your servant is a bit tougher than I expected… But the real question is you—!”

With that shout, Wurfe charged head-on, slashing down with the slender straight sword in his hand. There were no feints or tricks—just raw intent to kill.

Clang!!

Our blades clashed. Sparks flew with each strike of steel against steel, and the tension in the air sharpened with each collision.

Wurfe’s strikes were sharp—very sharp. His swordplay was efficient, graceful yet deadly. His form combined elegance and precision, like a performance crafted to enthrall an audience. I used to admire those flawless movement of his, but…

“…This is pathetic.”

The sloppy strikes before me doused the heat in my head with a cold bucket of reality. I’d sensed it from the start. Unlike Eishia and the others, who showed clear signs of growth, Wurfe hadn’t changed at all.

Worse, his muscles had softened under layers of fat, his cheeks flushed red with the telltale signs of a drinker. His stance lacked urgency, and his swordplay had become dull. He had fallen into the classic trap of an adventurer drunk on riches and glory.

“I’ll say it clearly, Wurfe—there’s no way you can beat me as you are now.”

“Wha—!? Don’t think cheap provocations like that’ll break me!”

His gleaming blade sliced through the air with a roar, attacking furiously from all directions—up, down, left, right. But every strike missed. I stepped back lightly. Shifted my shoulder just a bit. Leaned slightly back. That alone was enough to deflect his attacks, not even leaving a scratch.

“What the…!?”

Sweating, Wurfe retreated, shouting without turning back.

“Eishia! Cast a buff spell on me! I’ll finish this in one go!”

“…Understood.”

She responded instantly. Her magic surged like a gust of wind, wrapping Wurfe in bands of light. His strength, reflexes, and vision were all boosted at once. Bathed in that power, Wurfe looked at me with a face full of newfound confidence.

“Ahahaha! Let’s see if you can still crack jokes now! Get ready, Athos!”

“…Is that so?”

With the exact same stance as his first strike, Wurfe brought his sword down with renewed force. I casually shifted my grip and knocked it aside.

“…Huh…?”

Wurfe looked stunned, staring down at his deflected sword, unable to grasp what had just happened. He looked back and forth between his weapon and me, finally starting to process my earlier words.

“I told you, didn’t I? This time—I’m coming for you.”

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