“Fanis Laminitus... I shan’t kill you. Instead, I will induct you into my harem.”
Varakness’s large hands touched Laminitus’s neck and grabbed her chin, pushing her against the wall once more. She tried to use her still-functional left hand to punch his face, but he easily grabbed her wrist.
This was an opponent capable of shrugging off a Magi Gun’s bullet. She couldn’t hope to phase him with her bare hands.
Varakness’s face slowly drew closer to hers—
“Lady Laminitus!”
A voice cried out from their side. At that moment, a bullet charged with magic energy fired into the room, causing a small explosion.
“To stand in the way of an act of love... So boorish,” Varakness sneered scornfully.
One of Laminitus’s subordinate knights charged into the room, firing a large Magi Gun in rapid succession.
“Get away from Lady Laminitus, you foul Fallen!”
“Ah, impressive. The more obstacles standing in its way, the more passionate love becomes. I would gladly face you here and now, but it simply wouldn’t do to have my new beloved caught in the crossfire. I suppose I shall withdraw for the night.”
Varakness levitated into the air with a composed expression, pelted with magic bullets all the while.
Released from his hands, Laminitus finally breathed in relief. “Ugh... Running away, are you?”
“Sparing you would be more apt. I will come for you on the night of the next full moon. Do choose your bridal dress carefully, Fanis.”
“Don’t you dare call Us by Our name, you clown!”
“Ahahaha... Next time, I will claim you entirely, both in body and spirit,” Varakness said, licking red droplets from the claw that dug into the tip of Laminitus’s chest.
“Argh...” She reflexively covered her chest with one hand.
Varakness’s laughter resounded through the room. He brandished one arm; the wall of the tower, normally strong enough to withstand even cannon fire, burst apart, revealing a hole outside.
Laminitus’s eyes widened. Not only was he impervious to Magi Gun fire, he could shatter the tower’s walls with a wave of his arm?
“A monster...”
The black-clad Fallen soared outside the tower through the hole he just created. Spreading his bat-like wings, he disappeared into the starless sky.
“Are you unharmed!?” The knight rushed to Laminitus.
“Of course. Who do you take Us for?”
Her right arm still wouldn’t move, though. However far from the truth it was, Laminitus still claimed she was fine. Even if she wasn’t properly equipped for the encounter, this defeat was far too one-sided.
Her fists trembled with rage.
The knight knelt before her. “My apologies! To think we would allow the enemy to reach so far...”
“What of the guards?”
“A few of them are still alive, but...”
—Varakness wasn’t lying, then. The majority of them were killed.
Servants filed into the room, carrying a change of clothes and Laminitus’s equipment. It wasn’t uncommon for aristocrats to let servants help them with changing out of and putting on clothes. Laminitus was used to having her body seen by others. But unlike the other workers, the knights weren’t used to seeing Laminitus’s naked body.
The knight that came to her rescue turned his gaze away, blushing furiously. He was visibly embarrassed.
If she remembered correctly, his name was—
“Henric, was it?”
“Yes, Ma’am!”
“Well done, having come to Our aid.”
“Y-Yes! I’m glad nothing awful happened to you, Lady Laminitus!” He bowed, hanging his head that was red all the way down to his neck.
As the former Demon Lord’s Domain was a harsh place to live in, most of Laminitus’s subordinates were the crude, vulgar type. This man was rather naïve in comparison.
“Henric, gather all the commanding officers and heads of the Adventurer’s and Mage’s guilds. We have an urgent announcement to make. If anyone’s asleep, wake them up.”
“Understood!”
He rose to his feet and saluted, but since Laminitus was still halfway through getting changed, he seemed rather bothered as his eyes darted about, not knowing where to look.
Chapter 1: Going to a Dungeon
Diablo lowered the altar he levitated using his magic in the outskirts of Zircon Tower. It was some distance away from the city itself, so there was no one around. The area was almost entirely a desert, and the only things dotting the terrain were rocks of varying sizes.
The sun was slowly rising on the horizon...
It was just last night when Rem and Lumachina were captured by the Paladin Captain Batutta. Diablo stormed the underground hideout, defeated Batutta, and rescued the two.
But there was one problem...
“Please hang in there, Lumachina!” Rem cried out.
“Y-Yes... I’m... fine...” She answered with a voice that sounded anything but fine.
The girl crouched on top of the altar was the High Priest, Lumachina Weselia. She was clothed in a pure white priest’s garb, but her clothes were disheveled, exposing her thighs where a blackish-purple mark surfaced on her skin.
The Death Knell disease.
Once nine marks appeared on the victim’s body, they passed away. It wasn’t a disease, but a curse.
While defending the church as a Paladin Captain, Batutta had also dabbled in his vices and used ritual magic to create this curse. Only a priest’s miracle could remove it.
But Lumachina was the exception. She was blessed with the power to summon great miracles herself, but as if to compensate for that, all manners of miracles had no effect on her body. Be it the healing of wounds or treatment of diseases, or most importantly right now, the dispelling of curses...
If left unchecked, once the ninth mark would appear on her skin, Lumachina will die.
—I’ll never let that happen.
Diablo swore in his heart. Lumachina just didn’t deserve to die like this.
Because of her tremendous talent, she was worshiped by the Church. But she was also a proactive and sincere person who would pursue justice to the bitter end. Having learned of the church’s corruption, she set out to do just that.
She had done the right thing.
As a result, the corrupt, selfish members of the church went after her life, and she was now afflicted by this terrible curse.
—Isn’t that terrible!? The poor thing!
Diablo knew of one method that might save Lumachina from her plight. In Cross Reverie, there was an item capable of dispelling Death Knell disease, rewarded in a limited-time event. It was only for “an event where the townspeople who were cured from Death Knell disease come thank you” and had no use in battle.
But it should work on Lumachina here. A priest’s prayer may not have any effect on her, but Diablo had previously confirmed items and potions did.
The item in question was called the 《White Ox Statue》, and was tucked away in his Storage. According to the game’s setting, his storage should be at the bottom of the dungeon where he built his personal area, in a chamber called 《The Treasure Vault》. According to the Grasswalker Adventurer Horn, Diablo’s dungeon was near this town.
—I have to go for it.
He wanted to save Lumachina.
Horn raised his hand. He had rabbit ears and a rabbit’s tail in the appearance of a young boy. Grasswalkers are a race that have the appearance of young children regardless of their actual age. A nimble race, they’re adept at magic and espionage, but lacking when it comes to endurance and physical strength.
“Hey, Boss, why’re you so dead set on going to the dungeon all of a sudden? I mean, I’m glad you want to go, but...”
“The item Lumachina needs should be in that dungeon.”
“Y-You mean that dungeon I recently discovered? I think I only mentioned that one...”
“Yes. C
onsidering everything you have told me, I think that is the place.”
“Lord Diablo,” Lumachina opened her mouth to speak, “am I to understand that item can lift the curse of the Death Knell disease?” she asked him with an imploring, trusting look in her eyes.
He didn’t know for sure if it was there, but based on what Horn told him, Diablo readily believed it was the dungeon he made in his personal area. In which case, the event item, White Ox Statue, should be there, and it should be able to dispel the curse.
It was all just a possibility; he couldn’t quite say for certain.
He should probably tell them the circumstances...
—But lowering their confidence with uncertain information isn’t what a Demon Lord would do! It isn’t what a God would do!
“Believe in me. If you wish for it, I shall grant you a treasure capable of a true miracle!”
Lumachina prostrated before him, bowing her head to the ground.
“Yes, I believe in you, Lord Diablo! My faith in you will never waver in the slightest!”
Her faith in God was tremendous. Because of that, she was granted such amazing prowess over miracles.
—If there is a God out there, He shouldn’t abandon a good girl like her. He should save her.
Diablo heaved a sigh internally. Lumachina was under the impression that Diablo was “God in disguise” because he had coincidentally appeared when she called out to God for help. But the truth was he was actually “a shut-in gamer pretending to be a Demon Lord”...
But if they were to leave her as is, Lumachina would die from the curse in a matter of days. Even if it was uncertain, they had no choice but to go to the dungeon.
And if they were heading out, they would need to prepare.
The long journey combined with the Death Knell disease were taking their toll on Lumachina. It would be best if she would wait for them at an inn.
“For the time being, let’s go back to town and make preparations.”
Diablo had little to no experience operating in a group. It wasn’t a suggestion to the others; he really said that to himself.
But Rem the Pantherian tilted her head pensively. “...I am not sure if that would be wise.”
Pantherians typically have red or ginger ears and tails, but Rem’s were a rare black color. Her hair, ears, and tail were a sleek shade of ebony. And while that was probably unrelated, her body was somewhat lacking when it came to curves, and she was rather slender and lithe for a fourteen-year-old.
Diablo nodded at Rem, urging her to explain.
“Speak your mind. I permit it.”
“...The citizens of the town may be in a panic after that huge magical explosion. If we enter Zircon Tower, I doubt the merchants would be inclined to help us right now. We might even end up being questioned by the militia and military.”
“What a waste of time...”
“I do believe bringing Batutta’s misdeeds to light is important, but considering Lumachina’s condition, I think we should head straight for the dungeon. This is a major incident, and there’s no saying how long they would detain crucial witnesses like us.”
Rem was wise. Her experience as an Adventurer was vast, and her suggestions were for the most part sound. Her fears were also understandable.
“Agreed!” Shera raised her hand in the air enthusiastically. “Let’s save Lumachina as soon as possible!”
Shera L. Greenwood was an Elf, and an Elven princess, at that. She was currently running away from home, in search of her own freedom. With a mystical air to her and a curvy, gorgeous frame, it was as if one of the gods themselves had descended to support them. And yet, the moment she opened her mouth, it would become incredibly apparent how lacking she was in the “thinking” department.
—Should we really head to the dungeon right away...?
It would probably save them the most trouble. But Diablo felt like he should rest in town, too, if possible.
During his battle with the Paladin Captain Batutta, his HP was reduced to 1. Thanks to the effects of the 《Distorted Crown》 he had equipped, his health was gradually recovering even now, but that was taking far too long. If he were to use all the HP Potions he had on him, it wouldn’t even recover half of his total health.
With the materials he acquired from Faltra, the most he could make were “R” rarity potions. He would need a potion made from “SSR” materials to fully heal his HP. Just with the equipment he currently had on him, even a week might not be enough to fully recover.
It was astounding he was even alive after having his heart pierced, but that was magic for you.
His gamer reflexes urged him to prioritize recovering.
Rushing to continue the story without recovering one’s health, and then losing after running into a powerful opponent, was a very common occurrence in games. Being prepared for a situation where the game urged you to hurry and continue to the next part of the story was fundamental.
He was worried about Lumachina, but it would take time until the ninth mark appeared. Surely they had a day or two to spare.
Come to think of it, Lumachina could use healing miracles, and probably of the highest rank in the whole Kingdom of Lyferia.
—No, no, no.
Diablo shook his head in denial. The 《Demon Lord’s Ring》 he had equipped would reflect a healing miracle. He could remove the ring and have her heal him, but...Rem and Shera were under the impression his magic reflection was an ability inherent to his Demon Lord nature. If he were to tell them it was all the ring’s effect, he would look so lame.
Besides, asking a priest for healing isn’t something a Demon Lord would do, let alone a God.
As a pro gamer that prioritized efficiency, it would make perfect sense to ask her for help. But his Demon Lord role play meant he could never reveal his true self to them. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to talk to them without stuttering. It would be like walking through a blizzard completely naked.
—Yeah, no way.
Putting that aside, Rem’s concerns were valid. Going back to town would probably be more trouble than it was worth. Fanis Laminitus, Zircon Tower’s governor, seemed particularly hard to reason with, and in this case...
“Diablo, look!” Rem pointed to the horizon.
Looking up, he could see small black dots gradually approaching them from afar. Something was coming their way, kicking up clouds of dust as it drew near them.
“What is that?”
“...It seems they are the military’s sand ships.”
A Pantherian’s eyesight was keen. Even from a distance, Rem could make out the emblem on the sand ships’ sails.
Hearing the word “military,” Shera’s and Horn’s expressions stiffened with fear.
Rem continued her report: “One of the ships is especially large, and has an emblem of two guns crossed over each other... Maybe the governor’s craft? I recall seeing the same emblem on her armor.”
“Hmph, that fool has too much time on her hands,” Diablo said, displaying haughtiness worthy of a Demon Lord.
Under the surface, he was far from composed. Fighting a high-level Magi Gunner with less than a tenth of his HP was a bad idea. And he was low on MP, too...
If he was up against another Sorcerer, his Demon Lord’s Ring’s magic reflection would keep him safe; but it had no effect on Magi Gun bullets.
That said, running away with his tail between his legs would be totally lame. He had to find a way to avoid combat while maintaining his dignity as a Demon Lord!
Lumachina rose to her feet, still breathing heavily. “It seems Lady Laminitus is approaching... Would you mind if I explain our circumstances to her?”
“I just hope she’s willing to accept our explanation...” Rem said nervously.
“I am sure if we explain our situation honestly, we can come to an understanding with her.”
Lumachina wasn’t a fool, but had a tendency to believe in others too much. They could explain themselves as earnestly as possible, bu
t most odds were leaning toward a reply of bullets laced with magic flying their way.
That was just how dangerous the person they were going up against was.
†
As they were considering their options, Zircon Tower’s military had surrounded them with their fleet of sand ships. There were ten ships, with roughly 2,000 troops. And, as they expected, they could spot the governor, Laminitus, aboard the largest ship.
Behind her fluttered the 《Crimson Wings》, a cloak that granted its wearer the magical ability of flight, and she was clad in armor hemmed with gold. But there was one stark difference compared to the last time they saw her:
Her right hand was bound and suspended by bandages.
—Is she injured? What happened to her?
Laminitus looked down on them from aboard the ship’s deck. “Our reports claim that you all came out from the depths of the earth. The people seem to believe you’re a Demon Lord. Answer immediately and honestly: Are you the Demon Lord?”
Her question cut straight to the chase.
Diablo smiled scornfully; the answer to that question was obvious.
But if he had the stomach and wit to think of a better retort, he wouldn’t be known for his communication apprehension. He wouldn’t be a reclusive reject addicted to video games, leading a NEET lifestyle, and introverted to the point that even in the game he would insist on playing solo.
And most important of all, a Demon Lord would never respond to that question with “Demon Lord? Never heard of him!” It would be the lamest thing ever!
“I am Diablo, a Demon Lord from another world! And let it be known I take orders from no one!”
He answered confidently, but on the inside he was panicking.
—Ohhh, crap! I did not just say that!
The sand ships’ soldiers stirred restlessly. Diablo could hear the sound of swords being unsheathed.
“W-Was that wise, Diablo?” Rem looked up to him anxiously. “If you say that, they might—”
How NOT to Summon a Demon Lord: Volume 5 Page 2