Chapter Sixty-Eight: Demon King and Hero

Darkness stretched on without end. Leaning against a stone, the guard yawned, gazing ahead in utter boredom. Yet all he could see were cold, monotonous rocks; the firelight flickered over these thick layers of stone, casting a dim glow in return.

This damned Underdark!

The thought drew another yawn from the guard. When he’d first arrived, he’d been as excited as any newcomer. But now, as days blurred together, his enthusiasm for this forsaken place waned steadily. Here, there was neither day nor night, not even a way to tell the passage of time. Most of the time, they relied on their bodies to guess if it was time to eat or sleep; often, they weren’t even sure if they were sleeping at night at all... But who really cared?

The inconveniences of endless darkness were tolerable; it was the monsters roaming the Underdark that posed the greatest threat. Gone were the days when he fantasized about hauling a monster’s carcass back to the surface to impress his friends with tales of valor... After seeing a comrade’s mangled corpse, no one entertained such bravado again. For a time, the young guard even dreaded patrols, fearing he too would wander aimlessly into the dark and be devoured by this vast and terrifying abyss.

Fortunately, the arrival of those mercenaries had lessened their burden. Noisy as they were, turning the camp upside down, at least he’d been spared the most dangerous patrols. Now, he was assigned to guard the rear of the outpost—of course, if he could return to the sunlit surface, that would be even better.

A faint light appeared in the distance. The guard immediately tensed, hand dropping to the hilt of his sword as he watched the approach. In theory, this was the corridor connected to the portal—supposedly safe—but a guard was sworn to his duty, after all.

Soon, the firelight drew nearer, and by its glow, the guard saw who approached, releasing a quiet breath of relief. More mercenaries from the portal, it seemed—no surprise to the young guard by now.

Leading the way was a man in his twenties, with long jet-black hair and gold-rimmed glasses. His face was resolute, and unlike the other mercenaries, he wore a black noble’s suit, a longsword with a magical crystal at his waist, and black deerskin boots—altogether giving him a sharp, capable air.

Following him was a girl cloaked head to toe, most of her face hidden in the hood’s shadow, except for a delicate, pointed chin. The lace trim on her hood made her seem more a lady out for a stroll than an adventurer.

But the one who truly caught the guard’s eye was the youngest girl trotting by the man’s side. She looked about ten, clad in ill-fitting leather armor and carrying a bulging pack. If one ignored her age, she could almost pass for a seasoned traveler.

“Halt! Who are you?” The guard barked as the three approached. Usually, this was a mere formality, but today, genuine curiosity colored his tone.

The trio stopped. The man in front met his gaze before replying, “I am Jann Duddensang Bashanormans, of House Duddensang. This is my fiancée, and behind me is my attendant. We have come from the surface to join the Temple’s allied forces and do our part to purge darkness and evil.”

“...Just the three of you?” The guard frowned, scrutinizing them. Whatever might be said of Jann, the lady looked frail and defenseless, and the little girl—who would bring a ten-year-old into the Underdark? Was the man mad?

“Do you have travel documents?”

“Of course.” Jann promptly produced a letter sealed with a sacred crest. The guard took it carefully and opened it. Sure enough, it contained the trio’s passage documents, along with their noble insignia—a scarlet blood serpent devouring its own tail.

So, a minor noble house.

Now the guard understood. Insignias denoted a family’s rank; the upper echelons boasted intricate crests, family mottos, even histories, while lesser houses had only a design—no legacy. It marked them as weak, obscure, and lacking in influence.

He’d seen plenty like this lately. The Temple had promised rich rewards for those who distinguished themselves in the Underdark, luring even the smallest houses to risk everything. Many a scion of a fallen family brought their retainers, gambling on a miraculous comeback under the Temple’s watchful eye.

To the surface dwellers, the Temple’s promise was a potent lure—mercenaries, warriors, wanderers, ambitious organizations, and ruined heirs alike flocked here to fight for their own aims.

“Only the three of you?” The guard handed back the documents, frowning in concern. “You know the Underdark is far more dangerous than you imagine. If you think a few people can face its darkness, you’re sadly mistaken. And...” He glanced at the young girl with Jann. “Bringing a child here is hardly wise.”

“She is my maid, responsible for my daily needs.” Jann waved off the warning and moved on, the two girls hurrying after him toward the outpost. Watching their retreat, the guard shook his head—he’d seen too many arrogant nobles like them. Well, he’d said his piece; all he could do was hope they were lucky enough to survive.

These three adventurers were none other than Jann, Elise, and Bix. After receiving information from Clarice, Jann had decided to infiltrate the Temple as an adventurer, carrying out his plans personally—after all, self-reliance bred prosperity.

Disguising himself was no challenge for Jann; as the Demon King’s son, passing for human was trivial. Unless a saint descended, no one would see through him. Elise, a perfect half-vampire, looked no different from a human at a glance. As for Bix, there was no need for concern—gnomes were a neutral race, rarely seen on the surface but accepted among humans. Bringing her along posed no problem. As for the travel documents... after ambushing a few mercenaries entering from the portal and having Enoya extract their memories, Jann made a few adjustments to their papers, and all was in order.

“Are we truly doing this, my lord?” Elise asked quietly, eyeing the outpost ahead. She’d been here before—in fact, she and Jann had once blown the place to bits. Yet the humans had proven resourceful; the outpost was not only restored but even expanded. What unsettled Elise, however, was the humans themselves. Though outwardly no different from her, she couldn’t shake her unease around these “surface dwellers.”

“Relax, Elise,” Jann replied calmly. “These humans won’t notice a thing. They might be dazzled by your beauty, but they’ll never guess your true identity. Even the Holy Light can’t harm you—what can these people do? Remember: you’re my fiancée, a mid-level mage. Just act your part, understand?”

Elise nodded slightly, though she couldn’t shake her distaste. She’d heard her father and others in the Onyx Citadel speak of these “short-lived breeds” with contempt—their arrogance, their folly, their greed and cruelty. The scene before her matched her expectations perfectly: mercenaries shouting, swilling poor ale, brawling over trifles—her opinion of humanity sank to the level of goblins.

Thanks to their documents, the trio passed unchallenged into the outpost. Their unusual group quickly drew attention; most here were commoners, even the paladins in gleaming armor. It was rare indeed to see someone in a noble’s suit, accompanied by two young ladies, strutting about—no wonder they attracted notice.

As a result, before long, a band of mercenaries blocked their path inside the outpost.

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