Another Side
“So, Evia, let’s hear the report.”
“Yes.”
In the CEO’s office of MAOcompany, the company’s president, who is also the Demon Lord, wears his usual gentle smile and listens to the report from his confidante, a female demon.
“We dispatched the Oni King and the Undead King to the dungeon of the Kuzuri, believed to be the mother of the Evol Eaters. The Oni King led the vanguard, with the Undead King providing support. We estimate their arrival at the deepest part will be in three days.”
“Yes, it’s good that things are going smoothly on that front. It would be troublesome if something were to rage inside it, so I pray for its successful subjugation.”
Although he says he prays, for the Demon Lord, subjugation is a foregone conclusion. The only difference would be the extent of the damage, which he believes will not exceed his predictions. While he trusts his subordinates who participated, he provided them with prior information to conquer the dungeon and deployed forces best suited for the situation. If this were to fail, it would mean either his two subordinates are incompetent, or something unexpected occurred that overturned the Demon Lord’s prediction.
So, what is he concerned about?
“Now then, did you find that old geezer?”
“We discovered a building that appears to be a research facility. Upon commencing our investigation, we found ourselves connected to several nobles. The details are here.”
“Hmm, so that’s how they chose to proceed.”
The Demon Lord flipped through the compiled report at a speed that made one question if he was actually reading it, and muttered that his prediction was off. However, he could discern the shadows lurking behind the information, and as if playing chess with an old friend, he mentally processed the information, taking a few seconds to consider if he could cause the opponent pain from this point.
“Well, I can roughly guess who orchestrated this behind the scenes, and these nobles are likely just severed tails.”
“Yes. We dispatched soldiers to secure evidence, but they had already completed their destruction.”
“I imagine so. If they had left evidence here, it would have been much easier to take their heads. Well, it can’t be helped to dwell on what has passed. If we order them to continue their investigation on a part of the shadows, this matter can be considered concluded. It should be fine to confiscate the assets of these foolish nobles and dispose of them without any lingering issues.”
However, he felt that what could be done with just the contents of the handed-over report was at best harassment. He decided it was a waste of further time.
“However, I think I’ll make them pay properly. Since they brought out something like that, they must have come with a certain level of resolve themselves.”
But the Demon Lord would not let it end with such a lukewarm punishment.
“Evia, how do you think we should settle this?”
“As you wish.”
With this incident, the Demon Lord’s faction lost one of their Generals, the administrator of the dungeon. It was evident that replacing him would take a considerable amount of time. More importantly, the Demon Lord, having lost a trusted subordinate, was calmly furious and vowed revenge. His expression, as he devised a plan to avenge his subordinate, showed not a sliver of mercy. Evia, who loyally followed him, said nothing and quietly bowed her head.
Later, eight individuals, including barons and viscounts, and one count, would have their heads severed for treason. The Demon Lord, who was orchestrating this, simply smiled.
“For now, let’s eliminate the move that was played against my abdomen. The rest can wait.”
Another Side END
Side Jiro Tanaka
The break within the dungeon was, naturally, far from quiet. The sounds of Evol Eaters appearing and Ōnis intercepting them created noise louder than any live concert. Even amidst such cacophony, the Ōnis seemed to maintain their composure, one moment drinking, the next heading to the front lines as if going to the restroom, and slaughtering enemies.
By the third day of the march, as they made camp and repeatedly advanced, reaching just before the final boss, the incessant noise had become a lullaby, and the killing intent directed at me served as an alarm clock. I had so completely blended into this army. It might sound good to say I had achieved constant readiness for battle, but the reality was that I would have collapsed from overwork if I hadn’t.
“How is it, Jiro? Our battlefield?”
“It’s the worst, and therefore, the most fun.”
“You’ve grown to the point where you can make sarcastic remarks! You were so energetic at first, but you went quiet for a while there!!”
However, I didn’t break mentally thanks to Instructor Kio. The more I fought alongside him, the more I learned, absorbed, and grew stronger. Even though his back was still far away, the desire to challenge him with all my might when my goal was right in front of me was a man’s heart. I stopped polishing the Ore Tree and, after a moment of thought, decided it was best to speak honestly to the instructor who had called out to me.
“When you’re thrown into a place where you repeatedly come close to death, you start to resign yourself to it. Otherwise, you’d just die. I can’t even count how many times I’ve cut down enemies while imagining you.”
“Oh, you say that, did it help at all?”
“Completely.”
This instructor had thrown me into an environment that could only be described as hellish. Since I couldn’t get revenge on the perpetrator, I took it out on the Evol Eaters by slaughtering them, but as I answered immediately, even that wasn’t enough to reach this demon. It’s not that it was completely unhelpful, but if you asked if it could inflict a fatal wound on the instructor, I would shake my head. I still can’t imagine cutting him down. I haven’t reached that stage yet. The higher I climb, the more I realize the instructor’s strength.
“Well, of course!!”
The instructor laughed heartily, a sake flask in his hand. It was enviable how at ease he was, with battle about to erupt a hundred meters ahead. His attitude, as if the battlefield were the Ōni’s natural habitat, almost made me want to sigh. Even now, an Ōni, returning covered in blood, was downing sake. While I had gotten used to such sights, my desire to sleep peacefully in my own room grew stronger. And that would end today.
“However, the next thing is different.”
The instructor drained the sake from his flask, his earlier cheerfulness replaced by a sternness in his voice.
“The Kuzuri is undeniably a General of the Demon Lord’s Army. I acknowledge her strength.”
“Is she stronger than you, instructor?”
“If we fought head-on, I would win ten times out of ten.”
This wasn’t a joke or a laughing matter. The instructor stated unequivocally that he would win in a pure test of strength, but he added the condition of fighting head-on. This means there’s a possibility of losing if that condition is not met.
“Individually, she’s ranked lowest among the Generals. But her strength isn’t in fighting. Her strength is in breeding and nurturing. Even if she herself isn’t strong, her offspring will come for my neck. Even if it’s just a scratch on the surface, she can intentionally create dozens, hundreds, or thousands of individuals capable of scraping away that thin skin. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be a General of the Demon Lord’s Army.”
That’s why the Evol Eaters likely targeted the Kuzuri, the instructor inferred. Generals who boast strength as a collective, rather than as individuals, may be the strongest in forming an army in a certain sense. It takes time to raise soldiers. However, for the Kuzuri, those conditions are lighter than for other armies. She possesses the ability to intentionally create ideal soldiers. This means a large army can be formed at a low cost, with no significant reduction in numbers. While not infinite, the ability to form a massive force is a threat in itself.
“However, even that is assuming she acts rationally. She’s more cunning than I am. I was wary of more elaborate traps on the way here, but there were none. She just blindly increased her numbers and threw them at me. She’s underestimating me.”
But even so, she doesn’t seem to pose a threat to the instructor. It seems he wasn’t just blindly invading the dungeon, but was probing the opponent’s reactions. Sorry, instructor, I always thought you were at the forefront because you simply enjoyed fighting.
“The enemy is basking in the glow of having eaten the Kuzuri. They’re arrogant, thinking they’re strong, the strongest. It’s obvious they want to show off their power. There’s no way I’ll lose to someone like that.”
The instructor, who was laughing cheerfully just moments ago, was now visibly irritated as if his previous self was a lie. Was this anger stemming from the loss of a comrade? He abruptly gulped down more sake as if to dispel his melancholy, quickly emptying the flask. Then, after shaking it two or three times as if to confirm it was empty, he hurled it towards the battlefield. While he threw it, it was by his standards; to me, it seemed to fly with the speed of a bullet.
“Jeez, what a blunder.”
As his true feelings spilled out, I dared to ask a question I couldn’t before.
“Instructor, is there any possibility of rescuing General Kuzuri?”
“…No. I believe the Kuzuri has already been eaten and her soul extinguished. All that remains is her body, transformed after being consumed. All I can do is help her body on its way, ensuring it doesn’t harm any more of our own.”
After asking the question, the instructor peered intently into my eyes, then shook his head and definitively stated it was impossible. Then, without showing much emotion, he declared what he had to do.
“I see.”
“Hmph. If you’re going to worry, worry about yourself. If you want to worry about me, do it after you’ve become stronger than me.”
If this were a story’s protagonist, they might find a way to save her through plot convenience, saying something like “there must be a way.” But unfortunately, I have not a sliver of that possibility. And if she could be saved, the Demon Lord’s Army would surely take action to rescue her as an organization. However, their chosen action was not rescue, but subjugation.
“Then, I will let it be so.”
That choice means it’s already too late. Then this is no longer my place to interfere. I only met her once upon completion of my training. I don’t hold much emotional attachment to such a person, so I accept the outcome of my question. However, the instructor is different. He undoubtedly has feelings towards her, whether good or bad. The fact that this Ōni is suppressing those feelings and carrying out his duty as work is worthy of respect. If so, I will bear witness. Not doing so would be unbecoming of a man.
“It’s about time. Jiro, what about you?”
“I’ll follow. If I stay here, I’ll miss an opportunity for level-up.”
“Hah! You’ve become quite the respondent. Then I’ll show you a victorious battle!! And afterwards, a feast!!”
“I expect good sake.”
“Naturally!! I’ll prepare the finest!!”
I quietly steeled myself, interrupting the instructor, who was about to tell me to stay put, and volunteered for the front lines. This was, after all, the final stage. A battle where I don’t have to think about the consequences is somewhat easier to fight. Since entering the dungeon, the instructor, shirtless, has become my designated spot behind him. As he walks forward, Ōni who were drinking, eating, sleeping, maintaining their weapons, or recovering from injuries, one after another, join us, and in an instant, the “Hyakki Yagyō” (Night Parade of a Hundred Demons) is complete.
“Make way!! I’m going in front!!”
The Ōni, having recovered his strength, joins the front line where they were fighting Evol Eaters. The Oni King, who has fully recovered for the final battle, wields his powerful arms again, which make even a storm seem tame.
“Follow meeeeeee!!!!”
With a single swing, he generates a gale, crushing the enemy, and I charge forward, chasing the back of the charging Ōni. Deeper, and deeper, and deeper, we press onward. I deliver the finishing blow to an Evol Eater wounded by the instructor’s attack, and engage the even larger enemy without fear. They breathe fire, spew acid, swing scythes, shoot spikes, and spread poison. The instructor parries all of it with a single swing, and I and the other Ōni attack. Adrenaline floods my brain, I feel a sense of exhilaration, and the enemy’s movements gradually appear to slow.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!”
Crushing the floor beneath my feet, the enemy is directly in front of me as I charge. Before I can even think to cut, my spine instinctively swings the Ore Tree down. I sever one of the enemy’s legs, and as its balance wavers, an Ōga’s giant battle axe descends.
“Alright, next.”
“Ooh!!”
Answering the Ōga’s voice, I leap to the next enemy. My role, as one of the smaller Ōni, is to disrupt the enemy’s tempo. By swiftly making shallow cuts, chopping off their limbs, enemies who prioritize power over speed will finish them off. Somehow, as we fight together, I’ve earned enough trust to have their backs watched over. I’ve even made promises to share drinks with some of them. It’s a secret, but I’ve found them easier to get along with than humans in some ways. Shaking off these stray thoughts with the explosions echoing at the front, I boost my magic circulation to catch up and run. Few can fight head-on against the instructor, who, with his driven attack, can injure enemies with mere shockwaves and aftershocks. I understood within three days that the Oni King, who systematically dispatches enemies, has the ability to reach the deepest part of this dungeon without taking much time, given the dungeon’s layout.
A great cavern. Its entrance alone was large enough to swallow Tokyo Dome in height and breadth. What lay beyond could not be smaller. The space itself was like a wilderness, with a ceiling like the night sky, and despite an expanse where the horizon could be seen, its occupant boasted a colossal size visible from any location.
“I see. That explains the abundant breeding.”
It would be accurate to call it an alien embracing a giant cocoon. The cocoon, glowing a dull, dark red, constantly produced eggs, increasing its numbers. The sight, like a factory producing mass-produced goods, was sickening to behold.
“Well then, is this the final stage?”
As I gaze at the colossal body, I re-focus myself, standing behind the instructor.
Jiro Tanaka, 28 years old, has a girlfriend.
Girlfriend: Suella Hendelberg.
Memoria Tris.
Occupation: Dungeon Tester (Full-time Employee).
Magic Aptitude: 8 (General Class).
Role: Warrior.
Quote of the day: “Something has to be done.”
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