Chapter 13
Dwarf soldiers gripping spears, their fighting spirit blazing.
A hunched old man standing among them.
And farther inside the pit, the faint outline of a massive stone tomb.
Johan slowly tilted his head at the rough welcome prepared for him.
“…Is this your answer?”
“Do not misunderstand. Even if it were not you, this is how we have always dealt with intruders.”
“Wise.”
“If you have no business with us, then as promised, I will give you room to conduct your search. I will have the soldiers stand down as well.”
“Well… I wonder.”
It was true that Johan was searching for remains.
However, his target was not just any remains, but the Great Remains.
Strictly speaking, remains whose identities had already been confirmed were not his targets.
He could shed blood if he wanted, but there was no reason to deliberately cause unnecessary trouble.
Even so, Johan did not answer immediately.
He silently watched the dwarves’ reactions.
Instead, his companion spoke with obvious displeasure.
[Why don’t we just wipe them all out? How dare they act so insolently toward our Johan.]
You said you weren’t going to help me earlier.
[That was then, and this is now. Looking down on Johan is the same as looking down on me.]
I don’t care whether they look down on me or not… but there is one thing I should clear up.
[One thing?]
That wasn’t his name. The Apostle of Rofgor.
After organizing his thoughts, Johan glanced sharply at Belvar.
“Rofgor, one of the Seven Dwarf Lords… correct?”
“…Is there a problem?”
“The Lord of Earth. Guardian of Thorns. King of Grave Robbers. An Outer God of the Golden Land, infamous even among its gods for his violent temper, and one who rarely chooses an Apostle. Am I right?”
“How in the world do you know that…?”
“I once met an Apostle of Rofgor. It was quite a long time ago.”
“What? You met Lord Kranon?”
Johan shook his head at the wide-eyed old man.
“Probably the Apostle before him.”
“…Before him?”
“What happened to Baste, the previous ‘Thorn Shield’? Is he already dead?”
It was not a particularly surprising story.
This was what had happened.
Baste, Rofgor’s eleventh Apostle, had lost his life on the nineteenth floor, the Underground City, while protecting his fellow dwarves.
That had happened thirty-five years ago.
Kranon, the strongest among the survivors at the time, succeeded Baste and became Rofgor’s twelfth Apostle.
The survivors did not leave the Dungeon.
Instead, they fought against the followers of the Inner Gods who had begun flooding upward, all while dreaming of rebuilding their strength.
More than thirty years passed that way.
Unable to endure the long struggle forever, Kranon eventually met his end as well.
He was hunted down and killed by Dagon’s Apostles.
However, Rofgor bestowed his blessing upon Kranon’s remains, allowing them to protect the survivors who were left behind.
Even after that, the dwarves continued their struggle.
They were pushed back again and again by repeated waves of enemies until, eventually, they were forced all the way down to the first floor.
But they still had not abandoned their journey.
They wanted to join the expedition forces from outside and finally settle the resentment of their comrades who had gone ahead of them.
That was their last remaining wish.
“Well, I don’t know if inexperienced youngsters like Rodur feel the same way…”
Belvar had somehow ended up telling Johan their entire story.
Yet rather than regret, there was a much stronger sense of relief on the old dwarf’s face.
“If you fought beside Lord Baste, then surely you can understand our position. That is why I willingly told you everything.”
Johan remained silent.
“I hope it was useful to you.”
In truth, Johan and Baste had never been close enough to call each other comrades.
Back then, Johan had been wandering through the Underground City alone, following even the smallest clue he could find.
Baste had been an exceptionally powerful warrior, even among dwarves.
He had established a position on the nineteenth floor and continued holding out until the next expedition arrived.
At the time, both of them had become targets of Kshtar’s followers.
Because of that, the two had fought together for roughly three months.
It was nothing more than a common story.
Two people happened to share an enemy, formed a temporary alliance, then eventually went their separate ways.
Even so, the death of a powerful warrior was always regrettable.
Johan felt the same.
I never thought that Baste would die on something as low as the nineteenth floor…
But now, Johan’s curiosity had shifted elsewhere.
“Do you know who killed him?”
For a moment, silence descended.
Belvar’s expression clearly showed what he was thinking.
Should I really tell him even this?
“There is someone we suspect.”
Instead of waiting for Belvar to continue, Johan opened his right palm.
He folded his fingers down one by one while narrowing the possible suspects.
Soon, he named two gods.
“The ‘Blasphemer’ or the ‘Black Silence’… something along those lines.”
Judging by the location, the Black Silence of the nineteenth floor seemed more likely.
But considering the required strength, there was also a good chance it had been the work of the Blasphemer.
“I don’t know why an Apostle of the Blasphemer would climb more than thirty floors upward to the nineteenth floor, though.”
“…If you already know that much, there is little point in hiding it.”
Belvar lowered his voice so the soldiers deeper inside the pit could not hear him.
Then he spoke that profane name.
“Just as you guessed, the culprit was an Apostle of Agorsh, the ‘Blasphemer.’”
“An Apostle of Agorsh…”
“With the blessing of an Outer God, we somehow resisted his mental attacks. But we could not stop the corruption. So Lord Baste attempted to take him down together with himself. We do not know what became of it afterward… We can only hope that the plan succeeded.”
“It probably failed.”
The grotesque, rotting body of Agorsh was already vivid in Johan’s memory.
“That monster’s very existence is synonymous with corruption. Ironically, that also gives him extremely powerful resistance against all kinds of wounds and contamination. His Apostle would have been the same.”
Belvar fell silent.
“I don’t know what kind of mutual-destruction strategy Baste used… but there’s a good chance it wasn’t fatal to that thing.”
“…I see.”
Johan’s lips curved slightly.
“Well, I’ll have a chance to confirm it soon enough. The fifty-first floor, huh… This should be interesting.”
Seeing the interest on Johan’s face, a thought suddenly crossed Belvar’s mind.
Perhaps the human man he had met today might actually be the savior who could fulfill their long-held wish.
Before Belvar knew it, his final conversation with Baste was echoing through his mind.
“If you had joined us just a few months earlier, you could have seen something interesting. What a shame.”
“Something interesting?”
“A human Apostle who doesn’t fear the Great Old Ones in the slightest.”
“Oh…?”
“I fought for fifty years as an ordinary dwarf warrior and another thirty as an Apostle, but I had never seen anyone so strange in my life. I wanted to spend more time with him, but he left before long. If someone like him had stayed with us, perhaps we could have fulfilled our ancient wish.”
“…Was that human truly such a great warrior?”
“If fate ever gives you the chance to meet him yourself, you will understand naturally. A great warrior is also a noble warrior. There is a kind of awe that can only be felt from those who faced fear head-on and overcame it. That man had it.”
If that man truly was the noble warrior Lord Baste had spoken about…
Belvar could not let this opportunity slip away.
If he had feared death, he would never have remained inside the Dungeon for decades.
If all he wanted was to vent his rage over his dead comrades, he could have simply launched a suicidal attack and ended his life long ago.
The reason he had stubbornly endured all these years without making such a choice was simple.
He wanted to die honorably, fighting as a warrior.
And if he could land one devastating blow on those ancient beings before that happened, there could be no better ending.
“I know this is an unreasonable request!”
Belvar called out to Johan, who had already begun walking away.
“But… would you perhaps be willing to join us on our journey?”
“Of course not.”
Whether he understood the old dwarf’s sincerity or not, Johan’s answer was brutally cold.
“I have no intention of becoming a babysitter for people who’ll only become dead weight.”
“We absolutely will not get in your way! If you want, our soldiers can accompany you on your journey—!”
“That’s the same thing. Either way, it makes no difference.”
“But…”
Johan paused.
“The power dwelling in those remains will disappear in about a month. So I suppose this is a good time for you to move.”
Belvar stared at him.
“If you plan to run around causing trouble outside, do it somewhere I’m not around, old man.”
With that, Johan coldly rejected Belvar’s request and headed toward the pit.
Rodur, who had only just arrived at the scene, shouted urgently from behind him.
“How could you come all the way here without telling anyone?! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
“It just happened.”
The goddess immediately began growling about how insolent Rodur was for daring to lecture Johan.
Johan crushed her protests down and silenced her before lightly jumping into the underground area.
He had obtained some unexpected information, but that did not mean he could forget his original objective.
At Belvar’s signal, the soldiers finally lowered their weapons.
Johan once again took out the ring made from cores.
Just as before, he poured mana into it.
The ring began spinning and floated into the air.
Last time, it had remained in one place, rotating while emitting light.
This time, however, it moved up and down while shining brightly.
About a minute passed.
Then the ring finally found its position.
What followed was the same as before.
Thud…
The cores fell back to the ground.
Johan examined them one by one before giving a small nod.
“…It’s definitely different from before.”
[What is?]
Johan smashed every orb that had finished serving its purpose.
Then he looked toward his next destination.
“There’s another set of remains besides the ones here. And it’s within twenty kilometers.”
His lifeless eyes slowly began to regain their light.
An unknown anticipation was growing within them.
At the very same time that Johan found his clue and began heading toward his next destination…
The Ascartier Empire Expedition was moving toward its backup objective.
They planned to join one of the settlements inhabited by Dungeon residents.
After pushing through thick bushes for several hundred meters, the expedition members finally came across a fence made from thick tree trunks.
The first-timers, who had never entered the Dungeon before, simply stared blankly at the fence.
Meanwhile, Danforth and the others who had experienced the Dungeon at least twice quickly found the entrance.
“This is exactly the same as it was a year ago. Twelve meters straight ahead from the round rocking stone, then thirty-three meters to the right.”
“Isn’t that obvious? There’s nobody around to interfere with this place except magical beasts, and even they can’t approach here.”
The fence was little more than decoration.
Dexter tried to bring his hand close to it, but Danforth quickly grabbed him and pulled him back.
Then Danforth picked up a branch and casually tossed it toward the fence.
The instant it touched—
Fsssh.
The branch crumbled into dust and disappeared.
“Huh…?!”
Danforth looked at the newcomers.
“You never touch anything inside the Dungeon carelessly. That’s common sense. Remember it.”
He then drew his sword and thrust it toward the entrance.
The fence vanished without a trace.
In its place appeared a translucent passageway, seemingly inviting them inside.
“Is this the place you mentioned before…?”
“Yeah. The largest settlement on the first floor—the village of the Black Horse Cult.”
It was a village of dark mages who worshiped the Inner God Naberius, the Black Horse.
Or at least, that was what it had originally been.
Now, the settlement was recognized as a protected area under the Sapien faction.
According to one of the residents Danforth had spoken with during his previous visit, more than 1,100 people lived here.
Danforth turned toward his men.
“Even if you see familiar faces, don’t get too excited. We’re only stopping here to reorganize before moving on immediately. Understood?”
“Yes!”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
With that, Danforth began sending his subordinates into the passage one by one.
Finally, Danforth himself stepped inside.
The passage vanished as though it had never existed.
And what awaited them on the other side was a sight so bright and lively that it was almost impossible to believe they were still inside the Dungeon.
