Across the demon realms, there are two factions: those who adore the Demon Lord, like all citizens under the person who literally keeps them safe regardless of race, and those who ABSOLUTELY ADORE the Demon Lord, as in, like a God and the sun who must never be defiled by ungodly vermin. Fortunately, there exists a greater number of people in the former faction than the latter, or else, well, everyone would be screaming about how godly and divine their Supreme Protector is, like some cult. Oh, wait… those exist already? Ha, anyway… let’s move on.

To these individuals who see the Demon Lord as their ‘Sun’, when he publically announced in haste without considering the consequences first that he was planning to take Marcel as his partner, some… sorry, a lot of them were instantly perplexed. They didn’t quite like the idea of something grand, but still small, compared to their Supreme Guardian, like a hero, gaining the honor of being the consort of the Demon Lord. Such a thing was simply... unacceptable!

Regardless of how unacceptable they considered this to be, what could they do about it? Sneak into the Demon Lord’s castle to find and eliminate the ‘cockroach’ given such an honor? Obviously not if they wanted to still be alive to see the magnificence that is their Sun. There wasn’t much they could do, since the Demon Lord’s wife was confined to the castle and prohibited from ever leaving until they officially got engaged as per the order of the Demon Lord.

Unfortunately, this order meant that, even if they managed to enter the Demon Lord’s castle, the chances of getting to see that blond-haired, blue-eyed scrawny boy with hardly anything worthy of being called power, was very low, as their Sun would obviously take countermeasures against that. As time went on and they studied the movements within the Demon Lord’s castle, a certain ‘demon’ of unspecified race who came in and out of the Sun’s castle, became the subject for study. For some individuals, he became an absolute scourge that must be cleansed. How dare he enter the same place their Sun lived so casually?

Now, around a week ago, in one such ‘Sun Faction’ noble’s house, filled the endless rage of its master. Sleep is something this noble has in common with Michael Dunkelheit, as well as, a deep hatred for people who come in between them and their ‘sun’, the Demon Lord.

He was more than surprised when, after sleeping for over seventy years, woke up to the news that the Sun was not only verbally engaged some time ago to an unknown, weak hero, but also that there was some pest who came in and out of the Demon Lord’s castle whenever he pleased.

Normally, someone coming in and out of the Sun’s castle wasn’t so unusual. After all, the Sun’s Chosens, the Rulers, and visitors who had business did that all the time. It wasn’t a big deal… until he heard that this person comes and goes like he lives there.

How infuriating was it that some unknown demon was entering and leaving the Demon Lord’s castle whenever he pleased? Not very much, but then he learned that this ‘unknown demon’ was, in fact, not a demon, but a hero like that detestable confined fiancé. This set him into a fit of rage that could not be quelled. 

He absolutely didn’t want to calm down. All he wanted was to have this hero dead! No, he wouldn’t be able to calm his mind until this hero was dead! He didn’t care about the heroes’ mysterious reincarnation cycles or that he’d eventually be found out by someone later on. He just wanted to see the detestable hero named ‘Dave’, who’d somehow gotten himself closer to his Sun, resting in the land of the dead.

Unfortunately, his most loyal servant didn’t think the same,

“Master, that person is…” He tried to warn him of the implications that his master, who'd been asleep for quite some time, didn’t know of. That person…

“I don’t care what it is about him! He must be dead, at all cost. I don’t want to hear about that person coming in and out of the Demon Lord’s castle ever again. HE. MUST. DIE!” His master’s carmine red eyes flared with flames of hatred, disgust, and absolute loathing for this ‘Dave’ who’d somehow gotten the honor of being in the presence of his Sun whenever he saw fit.

“But--” His servant tried to warn again, but his master… was simply unwilling to consider anything but death to the ‘unworthy worm’.

“I just want him to die! I can only relax after that worm is dead!” He repeated as he stomped on the ground, emanating aura that altered the geology of his dwelling. The inactive volcanoes raged once again after 70 years and everyone knew that he was now awake.

Why must he be a noble recognizable at first glance, even when in disguise? If not for that, he’d go and kill this unworthy one himself. Anyone who gets close to the sun must die!

“Understood. I will be your silent blade then, my lord!” The servant proclaimed, despite not really wanting to do this, but… his master’s wellbeing always came first. Even if he must sacrifice his life to attain the outcome his master sought, he would certainly do so without hesitation, but…

“Be discreet! I just woke up. I need my servant with me.” His master stopped fuming for a second to speak before he continued.

…yes, his master couldn’t do without him. He would certainly come back alive. To do this, he must be completely untraceable and flawless to achieve the goal at hand. Only then, can he go back and properly welcome his master.

***

Now, back to the present, in the hundred floors dungeon of fire and darkness’ 24th floor, where Marcel and his friends are currently trapped and Fabier is currently leaving.

Hurrying across the vast terrain of scarce trees and grass, he headed for the 25th floor to find the teleporter out of the dungeon. Now that he’d made sure his mission would be completed, he hurried back with zealous excitement when... a darkness snake suddenly jumped out of the grass towards him. He effortlessly killed it with his bare hand, then continued moving forward to the 25th floor.

He was excited to see his master again after almost an entire week of stalking the target and discovering what might be the most perfect coincidence ever: that he and his party were heading to this same dungeon perfect for the trap he was planning to use. Oh, how happy he will be when he sees his master smile at him again and hug him, saying thank you for a job well done. Hopefully, ‘that person’ never finds out, or they’re both doomed.

Meanwhile, as he was leaving excitedly, Marcel and his friends… well, they weren't doing so well. Surrounded by thousands of darkness snakes that suddenly appeared out of nowhere because you and your party were tricked after being poisoned, definitely does a number on anyone’s nerves. They weren’t any different.

Apart from Marcel, the others were all both physically and magically paralyzed, unable to do anything, except wait to be either eaten alive by thousands of darkness snakes with terrifying venom or sit there paralyzed. If nothing was done, the darkness miasma accompanied by the arrival of the same snakes would infest and ravage the inner workings of their bodies. How very convenient that they were, yet again, in a terrible situation that would definitely culminate in their deaths. The world is, yes, definitely looking out for them.

Marcel, conveniently, thanks to his magical and poison resistances, was the only one to come out unscathed from Fabier’s terrible ‘paralyzing poison, then stranded’ ploy. Unfortunately, coming out unscathed didn’t mean he had nothing to worry about. He had his own share of problems to deal with, which included:

1. Darkness Miasma Snakes
2. Getting his incapacitated friends to safety
3. Finding out where the bastard Fabier is and being vigilant as not to get taken out himself. From how often he’s watched by others, he definitely knows that a mistake can result in something really bad happening to him.

The last, and probably the most important concern of his, was what the hell he was going to do to get himself out of problems one and two? How was he going to get his way through thousands of snakes with his friends and how does he even fix his friends from their afflicted condition?

As thousands of darkness snakes crept closer to where they were, a miasma of darkness built up in their surroundings from the sheer amount of darkness energy leaking from their bodies. Sure, Kensuke and Silva will be fine for a while after the miasma enters their body. They possessed darkness resistances of High and Low, but what about the others? 

Also, one bite from the Darkness Miasma Snakes, B-ranked dungeon beasts, and an enormous amount of miasma will rush into the body, causing disruptions in energy flow and eventually cutting off the supply of life essence entirely, leaving their victims dead. How did they even get to this point? Oh... because they let some mysterious assassin bastard into the group while they weren’t thinking! Just great!

As he looked at the horde of snakes approaching them, he couldn’t help but despair at their sheer number. Also, was it just him or did it seem like more dungeon beasts were coming from where might be the horizon, as in probably the floor above them? What did that bastard assassin do to call all of them here? How the heck did he get all of them to act as a collective? This... is really bad!

As he despaired, Allan mustered up some strength and started talking, snapping him out of the rut he found himself in. Marcel would have liked it if he preserved some of his strength, but the latter knew that he wouldn’t be keeping it as long as that paralytic was still inside his body.

“Listen! I just saw that bastard’s plan like it was my own. He planned to bring us here to the dungeon, then poison us with what's currently inside our bodies, leaving us powerless to fend off the miasma and dungeon beasts that would then swarm us. Since he technically didn’t do the killing himself, he would not be in any way connected to us when our aura bound to him for killing us with his hands… haa…” He took a deep breath, his face covered in beads of sweat as he groaned slightly.

“I see.” Marcel could do nothing but be depressed. What had they done to deserve such a fate? They were just living modest adventurer lives. He was deeply saddened all of a sudden.

“…but he didn’t take into account one thing: that you are way too lucky, and we’re grateful for that. I’d like to tell you to leave us and go, but you probably won’t, so I just hope you cast barriers on us and fight your way through this horde of beasts, and get us somewhere safe. I’m counting on you!” Allan said, hardly mustering an encouraging smile before going inactive again. Looks like he really had no more strength for doing anything but sit up like a vegetable.

“Understood, I will protect you all! I promise!” Marcel looked back at Allan and swore, however, he was getting incredibly sweaty as well. Allan frowned slightly in his vegetative state, and Marcel could only feel inner turmoil. He knew he had just promised Allan to get them somewhere safe, but again, how does he do that?!

Every cell in his body was actively panicking and his thought processes were getting more disturbed the longer he looked at the beast horde in front. Seriously, what is with this world and sending beast hordes after him? This is like... his fifth horde or something. He’s just simply unlucky when it comes to having beasts not surround him, ready to kill him, it seems.

While panicking was all he could do, he saw a light amidst the despair he was feeling at the moment, or rather, it spoke to him,

“Master! Master!!” Ains called out to him. The calls drove him out of the dark place he was in the midst of entering and back to his normal senses.

“I wish to come out and aid you in your endeavor to protect your friends!” Ains spoke, practically excited while he panicked like he had to do this all alone. Sometimes, he simply just forgets about his assets.

“Indeed! Master is in danger! We have to provide the best of our aid to overcome it.” Roden began speaking as well. Looks like everyone was awake and ready to fight.

“Thank you, guys! Ains, I already told you to come out whenever you wish, and Roden, thank you for your aid. I will leave controlling my soul power and magic to you while I wield Sigurd. Shall that be a problem?” Marcel could see some hope out of this and thus, smiled slightly. How grateful he was that these two were with him?

“You jest, master! We’ve been doing this for over 6 years now. I can complete a task as simple as wielding your powers. Just leave it to me.” Now, Marcel, had the magic department to be used temporarily covered. And Ains…

Ains jumped out of Marcel’s shadow in his ‘Fiery Soul Wolf’ form, the form he took when he fought the Red Acid Frog, with his jaws ready to open and hurl fire at the insolent pests who dared bother their master. This wolf beast of the A-class with flames half the power of an S-class monster, felt like these snakes and beasts approaching had a death wish. It would gladly grant them their wish to be scorched by flames of 1500 degrees Celsius in heat.

Marcel, meanwhile, cast 13 overlapping barriers on his friends before he took a position 5 meters away from them to better fight without worries. He pulled out Sigurd right after Ains launched his first flame ball, burning a couple hundred snakes to a crisp in an instant. Damn, he really got himself a powerful beast. How lucky he is to have walked into that cave where he found Ains when he did.

Seeing Ains launch his first attack, he was filled with a passion to head into the battle and win. If he couldn’t do that, at least, he promises to figure a way to get his friends out of this floor and unto the next, where they’ll hopefully find a teleporter and skedaddle from this dungeon.

Just when he started thinking that, he wanted to curse himself. The snakes’ numbers were instantly replenished by new snakes that seem to be coming from everywhere while the beasts on the horizon were getting closer and closer.

It’s like the entire dungeon is out to get us, he thought.

Sensing immense danger from the army of dungeon beasts that now entered the 5 000s and increasing, he really couldn’t take it anymore. His mind was heavily stressed and right before he stepped forward to deliver a slash at his first kill of Darkness Miasma snakes, he felt something deep inside him awaken. Please, don’t let it be that!

With whatever awakening that was happening inside him, came a heightened state of power from deep within, including the mental fortitude to get through this and a will to achieve his goal. Ah, looks like that thing hasn’t come out yet. Anyway, he will do his best to achieve his goals, no matter what! If he fails, everyone here dies, including himself. That cannot be allowed! No, he will not allow it! Everyone here will live.

Drawing his sword, he joined the fray of slaughter, intending to achieve the best possible outcome. He held naught back. All of these snakes must die!

With every move of his sword, he slashed a dozen snakes, sending their budding souls to the realm of the dead. He began a dance of sorts in a revolving pattern of effectively executing sword strikes with a minimal amount of energy needed to achieve his goals; strangely, sort of like he was calculating every move he made as he paved a path through the beasts.

Roden cast magic from inside Marcel, not holding back his punches with every spell that could take out a ginormous chunk of at least a hundred enemies at a time. All the unlocked elements of his master were open to him, and with Dragon Link, the spells he could use were only increasing the longer he stayed with his master. How glad he was to have become his new self.

As Marcel displayed his intent to slaughter every last beast who stood in his way, Sigurd seem to resonate with his master’s intentions, increasing in strength as well. With each slash, the sword released frigid cold aura that turned the snakes in its vicinity to ice. With even the smallest impact, something as small as the force of wind followed his master as he effectively took out a couple dozen snakes with each move, they shattered.

Yes, Ains kept blasting hundreds of snakes with each attack, preparing to deliver the worst of his attack moves when the other beasts got closer. Roden singed at least a hundred snakes with each Area of Effect attack he launched, and Marcel, wasn’t doing very well, despite being in top shape with Sigurd. This wasn’t moving fast enough. At this rate, he might have to keep at it all the way until nightfall if more beasts arrived.

He needed something bigger, more effective. Something that could guarantee him more than just a couple dozen kills with each move.

And then, it clicked… [Eidetic Memory], his memory-enhancing skill, suddenly came to mind, and with it, he quickly sped through everything he had in his arsenal. Sure, he could just stop sword-fighting the beasts and cast magic, but that wouldn’t be very efficient. Roden was already doing that as and he wouldn’t really be able to work more effectively than he was in terms of magic. Sword-fighting was the only way to go for now, but…

Oh… Frostbite’s sword memories! He suddenly remembered.

With [Eidetic Memory], he quickly browsed through all the memories the Guardian of Winter, Frostbite, had given him in exchange for not being able to train him properly as he did with his predecessors. At the time, he remembered that he was too weak to use any of them, so he naturally put it in the back of his memory. It only took him entering into this heightened state of his to remember.

Now that he was a C-class soon to enter the B-class, there must definitely be a few things in there capable of aiding to turn the situation around. Minimally wielding Sigurd who could instantly damage his enemies was good and all, but just being minimal wasn’t going to be enough. He has a strong body and has honed most of his swordsmanship skills to the limits of what he can as a C-class. He can definitely handle it! No, he will do it!

Now, let’s see! There’s ‘Torrential Wave’, ‘Blazing Sword Wave’, ‘Thirteen Dimensional Slash’, ‘Saber Emperor’, ‘Gale Death’… oh, oh… ‘Void Slash’! That should definitely do it!

Marcel was excited after he found which sword technique to use from the cluster of swordsmanship memories. He also instantly knew how to use it. Now, the Demon Lord did mention once that Sigurd was a spatial sword, didn’t he? That should make this even easier.

Thinking this, he could only feel slightly relieved that his enemy decided to give him a powerful thing like Sigurd for a first present. He loved Sigurd so much.

To execute the technique, Marcel needed a full 360 view of his surroundings and the targets, thus he activated a fight spell to see his enemies from above. Normally, as long as they were within a hundred-meter radius from him, their lives were forfeit, but in his current state, he could extend that range to almost three hundred meters. How good he was to have the swordsmanship memories.

After he reached about ten meters above the ground to fully see everything within a 300-meter radius of himself, he closed his eyes, took a sword stance, focused on the image of the targets he saw and executed the technique as he channeled as much of his power into it as Sigurd, his medium, could carry for him, and unleashed the power of ‘Void Slash’.

In a fraction of a second, Sigurd, his spatial medium, had created a link between every one of the targets he marked earlier with his eyes. It opened a small rift in space to deliver packaged deadly wills of ice and his intent to have the beasts all dead in a 300-meter radius of himself. When he opened his eyes again, each of his targets was hit with the presents he sent them, taking out around 3000 of his enemies.

Normally, a one-hit-kill attack like this came with its own drawbacks, and this wasn’t any different. For instance, when he delivered the packages to his enemies, he accidentally sent a few to his friends in the barrier as well. He saw them too while marking the attack targets, after all.

Luckily, he’d cast multiple barriers on his friends, and his will to protect him had unconsciously made the barriers block the attacks for them, sort of like how he’s capable of bypassing barriers but backward. Ains, however, was considered a part of himself, and thus, was spared a package. This ‘Void Slash’ sword technique was a tyrant who distinguished not between enemies and foes, only what he sees within the range of attack and doesn’t.

Marcel, in his current state, couldn’t make his eyes ignore his friends. After all, they were the subject of his protection. Ignoring them would be equal to leaving them to die at the hands of the snakes. Void Slash doesn’t work on those he can’t see, thus, if he can’t see his enemies, this sort of attack was useless. It really was a blessing that all of these beasts packed themselves together so tightly, that he couldn’t help but think, “Disgusting!” They brought about their swift deaths, and Marcel was grateful for it. 

He gladly descended, looking down upon the unsightly, fragile ice sculptures he’d created, wishing that they’d crumble and vanish already. Fortunately, the gentle winds that flowed through the site fulfilled his wish, crumbling the sculptures.

Oh, speaking of gratefulness, it seems that when the attack ‘Void Slash’ hit, it did something to the land around them that caused some of the snakes who survived to quickly regain some of their survival instincts that they were lacking when trying to kill them. The resulting frost from the attack decreased the temperature in the vicinity. The snakes who regained their senses, threatened by the intent of death enveloped with the ice, quickly escaped into the bushes, underneath the rocks, and up the trees from which they crept out from. Marcel had managed to live for one more day, and he couldn’t be happier that he won.

While he celebrated his victory, Ains cleared up about 500 to 1000 more of the beasts who still didn’t want to leave. Mr. Autopilot Roden destroyed around 500 – 700 of them before the last beast left, whimpering like bullied puppies.

Marcel, now relieved that he and his friends were safe for the time being, relaxed and breathed in the same not-so-tense air filled with okay~ – a bit of miasma. He felt alive again, and back to his old self, or at least, mostly.

Before he relaxed entirely, an idea came to him. Since he’s completely fine and his blood seems to have a curative, almost magic-like effect on these friends of his, what if he fed some of it to his friends in a quick antidote to get them back on their feet. Also, now that he knew what kind of paralytic poison he was dealing with, Roden had looked up possible cures with Dragon Link and he could at least quickly make a solution to reverse the paralysis and deal with the rest later.

And so, he did. He made a quick antidote in a few minutes from whatever medicinal ingredient he could find in his Inventory space and spatial storage, and it worked. It dealt with the paralysis, and after an hour, they could move with some difficulty again. That was good, at least!

Meanwhile, after his friends got back on their feet, he never expected that the first thing he’d hear was some admonishment from them.

“You jerk! Where were you hiding sword techniques like that?! Why haven’t you been using them? Was this supposed to be some kind of surprise? Well, guess what! WE ARE FUCKIN’ SURPRISED! Happy now?!” Evan, the loudmouth, was the first to admonish him. This time, no one was stopping him, but instead, nodded in agreement?

“Yes, I thought I knew everything! Think of how many dungeons we could have cleared if you’d shown that attack sometime earlier. I could have gotten so much more monster corpses to sell.” Now Allan’s ‘merchant greed’ was showing again. He looked pissed. Shalia heavily agreed with him and Marcel could feel nothing but embarrassment for having these two slave-driving, money-grabbers for best friends. Ah, what was going to happen to his life now~?

“I am sorry, guys! It’s just that, I’d forgotten all about that sword technique, and a lot of others like it because I learned it almost so long ago that I forgot all about it. The one you just saw needs at least ‘C-class’ body strength to wield it. Do you think I could have survived the aftermath of literally inflating myself with something for 3000 targets and bursting an attack that cuts through space to deliver it at age 16?”

Suddenly, they were quiet, contemplating that it truly wasn’t his fault that he’d forgotten about Frostbite’s swordsmanship memories, though, technically, it, um, was. He decided when he got the sword that since Sigurd was too powerful, he’d only use minimal sword moves to allow it to execute its natural power. He'd relied on it too much that he forgot about all the other sword techniques that weren’t raising the weapon and bringing it down at his enemies.

Suddenly after that, he looked a bit sad, because they were right. If it had not been for that backstabbing Fabier putting them in this situation, who knows how many more decades it would have taken him before finally remembering about Frostbite’s gift.

“Okay, fine! Now let’s get out of here. I think I want to leave this place as soon as possible.” Silva declared as she patted off the little dirt accumulated on her from sitting on the floor with the others and then…

“What about Fabier?! What should we do about him?” Kensuke, asked, clenching a fist that expressed his desire to find that bastard and kill him. The air suddenly grew tense with everyone thinking about what their next move should be. Should they go find that Fabier ‘bastard’ and kill him, or should they-- what should they do again...?

Silva moved her shoulders, trying to release the stiffness she’d felt while incapacitated. It had been no less than an hour and they were already in such a state. It looks like their entire day was ruined.

“Ha… let it go!” She said. “But--” Evan winced.

“This isn’t the first time any of us have dealt with assassination attempts, now, is it?” Silva’s eyes went instructional like whenever she wanted to impact some extensive knowledge from experience, sort of like an elder sister.

The atmosphere was filled with silence once again. They really had dealt with assassins before and when considering Fabier to be just one of them, they couldn’t help but admit that he was a bit sloppy and that they had been way too negligent of his kind. If not for Marcel, how would they have survived against his ploy this time? They'd gotten rusty!

She couldn’t help but sigh again before continuing,

“Looks like we’ve all gotten too comfortable with living normal lives that we forgot who we actually are. This one’s on us! Now we know what to do from this point onward.” A brief summary of what they were all thinking by Natsume. It really was a perfect summary of what they were thinking.

They all nodded, promising themselves to never let their guards down like that ever again.

After they prepared themselves to put this to the back of their minds and move on, Ains was relieved that they were all doing fine. He returned to Marcel’s storage space, intending to return when he felt like it once again. The rest, meanwhile, packed their things from the camping site they chose, however, most of the items they brought were now useless, being that they were heavily corroded by the darkness miasma they had left them in while incapacitated.

It was now time to go home, and so, they headed up to the next floor: the 25th, where hopefully, a telecircle exit to the main Dungeon Dimension was located. It’s either every 5 floors or 10 floors with the hundred floors dungeons before you found a telecircle out and into the Dimension of Dungeon’s starting point. They had never expected what they’d find at the end of the 25th floor after another six hours of toiling at that floor to reach the end.

In a similar cavern to the starting point when they entered the dungeon, was Fabier. He was battered and bruised, with claw marks across his chest, arms, and back, while covered in a nauseating aura of miasma that seemed to peek out of his heavily infested body. He had suffered miasma corrosion and there, he laid, unconscious and in absolutely terrible shape compared to them. Karma’s a bitch, but really… what the heck happened to him?!