Prologue

The front lines of the descendants of the Celestials: the Stronghold City of Faltra. Along the western street could be found the “Peace of Mind Inn - Twilight.”

There was only a solitary window in the stone wall that allowed for light to flow into a dreary room with one large bed.

The time was almost noon.

Three people sat on the bed, while their guest stood in the doorway.

The man in the middle of the bed was a Demon with ominous horns growing out of his head: the Demon Lord, Diablo. On either side of him were girls with enslavement collars around their necks.

One of the girls was the slender Pantherian, Rem Galleu.

The pair of panther ears on her head; the long hair that came down to her waist; and the thin tail that unfurled behind her were all a bewitching black. Normally, Pantherians were leopard-spotted, with black being a rare color for them.

From what could be seen of her thighs, it was easy to see that they were firm and tight.

Her face was young, yet beautiful. Her eyes were slanted like a cat, with her thin mouth showing the strength of her will.

The other girl was the Elf, Shera L. Greenwood.

She had elongated ears known as the particular characteristic that all Elves possessed. Having been called the race closest to the Celestials, they had the beauty to match.

Shera’s wavy hair was the same color as melted gold. Her eyes were as cerulean blue as the sky, while her skin was smooth and white.

Usually, she would be wearing a green tunic to help her blend in with the forest...

But right now, she was wearing an outfit consisting of barely anything at all.

It seemed she had prepared this lascivious outfit in order to cheer Diablo up, although this “outfit” was only really a few pieces of cloth wrapped around her.

Normally, Elves were slim and lacking in the “curves” department. Shera, however, possessed a rather robust chest and a sensual body. Even now, it looked like her breasts were going to spill out from what little clothes she was wearing.

Leaning with her back up against the door was the Guildmaster of Faltra’s Adventurer’s Guild—Sylvie.

It looked like she had the body of a 10-year-old, but her true age was unknown. Grasswalkers like herself would keep their child-like appearance even after reaching maturity. But not only that, she also had the ears and a tail akin to a rabbit’s.

Her outfit was similar to what Shera was wearing, with it only covering her chest and the area around her hips. Unlike Shera, however, because Sylvie looked more like a child, it gave off an impression of innocent beauty instead.

The Guildmaster opened her mouth:

“The governor of Faltra received a request from the Elven Kingdom to hand over one Shera L. Greenwood. The deadline is in ten days. If we don’t comply by then, they will declare war.”

With a smile on her face, Sylvie made the shocking announcement.

—Declare war!?

There was a sovereign Elven Kingdom by the name of Greenwood. Shera was the princess there. Due to various circumstances, she had run away from home; but now the Elves were trying to bring her back.

Several days ago, Diablo had fought against an elite squad of Elves trying to do just that. At that time, they were a group of only ten, and by no means could the event have been called a war.

The Guildmaster heaved a sigh.

“Normally, in this situation, you’d hand over Shera, right? We don’t want to go to war here. But, there’s just one problem with that.”

Diablo listened, silently. He had a feeling he knew what she was going to say.

Sylvie pointed a finger at him.

“And that problem is you, Diablo... You’re not going to let Shera go, are you?”

“Obviously.”

“The governor has to make a decision after receiving a demand like that... That’s either to defeat you, Diablo, and steal Shera away; or you don’t hand her over, and end up going to war with the Elves.”

—Beat me... or go to war with the Elves!?

Not good...

Fighting against the governor meant fighting against an army. A huge amount of people would be coming after him.

Back when he put on his Demon Lord act in the game, he had fought against six other people at once.

He had fought against countless monsters—

He had not, however, ever had the experience of fighting against thousands, or tens of thousands, of people. There was no way he had the MP for something like that, either.

Diablo had to give the impression that fighting against him, a Demon Lord, would be disadvantageous to them.

He wanted to avoid an all-out war between Humans and Elves, of course, but first he had to make sure that nobody was coming after him.

All he had to do was skillfully negotiate his way through this...

—Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen.

Diablo had zilch when it came to communicating with other people. He was using his Demon Lord act as a cover because he couldn’t talk well.

He could only stammer out a few “Ah’s” and “Um’s” if he was acting like his true self.

Though Sylvie had the appearance of a child, she was a Guildmaster with a great number of Adventurers working under her. The governor of Faltra had entrusted her with this task, yet Diablo was not like her. He couldn’t even talk to his peers. This was simply too much for him.

It looked like all he had was his Demon Lord role play.

Diablo opened his mouth.

“Heh heh heh... Very well then... I was just getting tired of lying around in bed, anyway. It shall be fitting to have the imperial army as my opponent. I will reduce this country to cinders.”

He said it in as low a voice as possible.

In a panic, Sylvie waved her hands in front of her face.

“Wait, wait, hold on now! I’m saying that’s not an option here! Fighting against you, who took on a whole legion of Fallen by yourself, would be as bad as taking on a whole country... Or maybe even worse.”

“Hmph... Looks like you narrowly avoided death.”

—By you, I mean me!

While Diablo acted displeased, on the inside he felt nothing but relief.

Sylvie raised her index finger.

“Then here’s a quest from me and the troubled governor of Faltra: stop us from going to war with the Kingdom of Greenwood, Diablo!”

—I refuse.

He wanted to say that with every fiber of his being. But, of course, in order to protect Shera, he had no choice but to accept.

The person at the center of this maelstrom of activity timidly cut in.

“U-Um, hey, Diablo... I... I can just, you know... run away by myself again...”

“What?”

Flustered, Shera added:

“B-But! I made it this far running away on my own... And if I’m not around, then there’s no reason for Faltra’s governor, or for you to have to hand me over to anyone, right?”

“Are you going to be able to escape, by yourself, from the squadrons of Elves after you?”

“Ooh... That’s, um... They might catch me... but that’s just how it goes. If I fail, then I’m the only one who gets sad... but that’s just how it goes...”

She clenched her fists.

Diablo asked her again to confirm.

“‘That’s just how it goes...’ Is that how you truly feel?”

“It is! I mean, I don’t want a war! I don’t want to see people die! That’s why... there’s nothing else for me to do!”

He knew what she was trying to say.

She wasn’t wrong. If Shera ran away by herself, then the war between Humans and Elves would probably be avoided, and no one would be aiming for Diablo.

But, could she manage to get away?

It would certainly be difficult.

If that’s the case, then could he protect Shera while fighting against the Kingdom of Greenwood? That would only be reckless.

What should he do?

If this was when he had first come to this world, he would have refused with no trouble at all. Asking someone to stop a war by themselves was too much for one person to handle. He might have even said “There’s nothing I can do about that.”

There were no correct choices here.

But he had already given his answer.

That’s because, right now—he was the Demon Lord, Diablo!

“Do not underestimate me. There is no feasible way that a Demon Lord would yield to a few soldiers.”

Shera opened her eyes wide.

“Huh!? What are you going to do...!?”

“The other day you assented to being property of the Demon Lord, did you not?”

“Y-Yeah. I did say that.”

“If you truly meant what you said, then cease this nonsense about running away by yourself. Do you doubt my power?”

“I don’t... but... I don’t want Humans or Elves to die.”

“Hmph. I will not hold myself back against any who dare face me... but, at the very least, I will offer them a warning. Leave everything to me.”

There he went again with his Demon Lord role play.

He had just made an exorbitant promise without considering the consequences. His back was covered in a cold sweat, and his mouth almost began to twitch.

Shera teared up.

“...I can... be with you, Diablo?”

“I will not say it again.”

“Waaaahhh! Thank you! Thank you, thank you! I was really—!”

Tears in her eyes, she wrapped herself around Diablo.

The feeling of her chest squeezed up against him.

Without thinking, he almost let out a little yelp of surprise, but held fast and resisted the urge. A Demon Lord would not be flustered by having boobs pressed up against him!

Rem let out a sigh.

“...In the first place, because of that enslavement collar on you, it might not even be possible to leave Diablo and do things like run away by yourself.”

“Sniff... What do you mean?” Shera asked, wiping her tears.

“...I have never heard of the Enslavement Ritual being reflected before. For that reason, we do not know the exact details about the collars currently wrapped around our necks. However, a Summon cannot normally stray too far from its Summoner.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“...In some cases, it is because they are ordered not to leave them.”

“But what about when you stayed in town while Diablo and I went to the Bridge of Ulug?”

“...You remember well for a dumb Elf. But for you to run away, you would need to escape to another town, or go even farther away than that. Have you even thought about whether that is possible or not?”

“Don’t call me dumb! And no, I haven’t really thought about it!”

Rem let out a second sigh.

“...Well, if Diablo says that he will protect you, then I guess there is no need to consider that, anyway.”

This was some serious responsibility being laid on him. While seemingly calm and collected on the outside, he was a turmoil of panic on the inside.

—What do I do? WhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoI—

Sylvie clapped her hands together.

“Alrighty, everything’s decided, then! Whew, glad that’s all taken care of. To tell the truth, the Kingdom of Greenwood actually put out a bounty for capturing Shera— Ah, but not through the Adventurer’s Guild! We don’t make quests out of crimes! It’s just a rumor I heard floating around, that’s all. So you might have a few ‘misguided’ Adventurers gunning for you... But that’s no problem if Diablo is going to protect you!”

Diablo furrowed his eyebrows.

“The King of Greenwood... Shera’s father did that?”

“No, the client was apparently Prince Keera. Sounds like whoever brings her back gets a one billion frith reward. For a commoner, that’s enough money for an entire lifetime.”

“...What a complete lack of common sense,” Rem muttered.

Shera had a horrified expression on her face. Without thinking, Diablo raised his voice.

His rage overtook him.

“He placed a bounty... on his own sister? How could he be any more of an imbecile!”

A black aura suddenly emanated from the entirety of his body.

Rem, Shera, and Sylvie all cried out in shock.

It felt like he had lost some MP in the process.

When his feelings had gone out of control after hearing something as ridiculous as a sibling placing a bounty on their sister, it felt like he had consumed a bit of his MP.

Thinking back on it, he felt that his magic was stronger when he took the time to get a clear picture of it in his head.

There may just be a connection between emotions and magic.

—What would have happened if I was holding Tenma’s Staff? I don’t think it’d be a good thing if my magic just spontaneously fired off, thought Diablo.

Because he had been living an idle and lazy life for the past few days, his all-important Tenma’s Staff was lying in the corner of the room.

Diablo took a deep breath and calmed himself down.

“Hmph... If there are any Adventurers out there blinded by greed, I will make them regret challenging me.”

Sylvie gave a bitter smile.

“Pretty reckless of them, I know. But I’m thinking the Adventurers coming from other towns probably don’t know how strong you are, Diablo. I think only the people who saw you fight with the Fallen would believe it.”

“Do you not share information amongst each other?”

If something this big had happened in the game, the Wikis and other info exchange sites would be going crazy. Pictures and videos would spread like wildfire, with speculation threads and memes popping up everywhere.

Since there was no internet in this world, he at least thought it would become a topic brought up in small talk at the bars, but it was a complete surprise to hear it wasn’t spreading at all.

“There’s two reasons for that— The first is that you’re an ‘Elemental Sorcerer,’ right, Diablo? As you know, when you mention ‘Sorcerer’ in the Kingdom of Lyferia, everyone is going to think of ‘Summoners.’ Elemental magic is thought to be weak, after all,” Sylvie explained.

In Cross Reverie—the MMORPG he used to play that was remarkably similar to this world—when you thought of Sorcerers, you thought of Elemental Sorcerers.

The reason was simple: it was because they were the most powerful class.

By choosing skills that would enhance their elemental magic, they would be considered a success once they made one of the six elemental trees into a weapon of mass destruction for themselves.

That’s why Summoners in the game were seen as a fool’s class. They tried their best to bring out their Summons, but the Summons were still weaker than a Warrior of the same level.

Their stats were about the same, but Summons only possessed one special skill. A Warrior, who possessed a wide variety of skills, held an overwhelming advantage.

The only real advantage that could be said for the Summoner would be that even if their Summon was defeated, they would take none of the damage dealt to them.

Summoners in Cross Reverie were scorned as a weak class that was “for n00bs;” “for people lacking in the information (and brain) department;” it was a class that was “cool, but impractical.”

However, this world was different.

In the Kingdom of Lyferia, at the very least, Elemental Sorcerers were weak, while Summoners were strong—

And he knew the reason why.

Unlike the game, where you could be brought back to life if you ran out of HP, death in this world meant it was all over.

Most Adventurers here did not chase after rare items or try to raise their levels; they were satisfied to live their lives being strong enough to go about on a day-by-day basis. They did not seek to train themselves up by risking their lives fighting powerful enemies; they were merely thinking about not dying while trying to save up enough money to support themselves.

The same could be said of the monsters.

They didn’t try to recklessly attack you like in the game. When they saw an opponent they knew they did not stand a chance against, they possessed the cowardice to run away, and were weak because of that.

As a result, it wasn’t that Summoners were strong—it was that everything around them was weak. That’s why Summons were so useful here.

The Summoner staying safe was also a great advantage for themselves.

In the face of all these values, of course the Adventurers of this world wouldn’t believe it if someone told them there was a “strong Elemental Sorcerer out there.”

They might laugh and brush it off, thinking it was a lie. At best, they might think that he was strong “for an Elemental Sorcerer.”

As a gamer, having the class he poured so much time and effort into be mocked and sneered at like this was a feeling of mortification he would not forget.

But, he had to put those feelings aside and accept it: in this world, Elemental Sorcerers were thought to be weak.

“Hmph... Regarding me as if I was the same as the other Elemental Sorcerers of this world...”

“Well, of course that’d happen. Your power kind of defies imagination, you know. There’s also another reason— It’s because I’m keeping people quiet about it.”

“Oh hoh?”

“I thought it might have been unnecessary myself, but it seems like you all have some stuff going on, right? That’s why I thought it might be better for you to not stand out so much, though I don’t know the particulars of what you’re going through.”

—Did she really just guess that, or is she hiding the fact that she knows something?

At the very least, it seemed she was aware of Shera’s background. Never mind that the person herself kept letting that information slip to almost everyone she met, despite her saying she wanted to keep it a secret...

Diablo, however, was more interested in whether or not Sylvie knew about Rem’s circumstances.

“You say that you don’t know the particulars... But how much do you know?”

“Ahaha... All I know is that it just kinda seems like there’s something going on with you guys, honest. Shera being the princess of the Kingdom of Greenwood has been a pretty big topic of discussion here ever since she came to town. And since Rem here always seems to keep her distance from other people, I just feel like she’s got some of her own problems she’s dealing with... And, well, it’s because I’ve seen these kinds of things before.”

It was when Sylvie said stuff like this Diablo felt that she was older than him, despite her childish appearance.

—Well, she is the Guildmaster, after all.

She must have the appropriate experience for the job.

Standing beside Diablo, Rem lowered her head.

“...We are very grateful for your concern.”

“It’s fine, really. If I can help you with anything, make sure and let me know. I think of all the Adventurers in Faltra as my friends.”

“...Thank you very much.”

—What a masterpiece of communication that was.

Sylvie offered a proposal:

“Well, on that note, I’m not going to pry into whatever those circumstances may be, so how about coming to stay with me? The Adventurer’s Guild has rooms you can stay in for times like these. I think it would be much safer than here. If I asked him, I think the governor would prepare a room for you at his place, but I think it’d be a lot more comfortable for you to come hang out with me.”

It was an enticing plan. But was it all right for him to agree to this so easily? It seemed like Sylvie was the kind of person he could trust...

—But can I really?

Diablo couldn’t come to a decision. He felt sorry for doubting her good intentions...

But Diablo was severely lacking in his people skills. If he could just be honest and say, “Let’s get along,” then he wouldn’t be the eternal solo player that he was.

He was bad at closing the distance between himself and others.

He would put his trust in them, get to know them better... But then they turned out not to be as devoted as he thought they were, and he would get betrayed.

If he was worried about the distance between them, then it was easier not to get close in the first place.

He would figure out how to avoid this war by himself. He didn’t know how, but he would just figure it out along the way.

This was the calm before the storm—and that storm was war.

This hadn’t yet turned into a quest to “Stop the enemy soldiers in their tracks.” He had to do his best to prevent that from happening.

—What should I do here?

First, I need to get some information.

The basic strategy for any quest was to gather information. This world wasn’t a game, but he could only approach it as if it were.

Diablo opened his mouth to make a specific request.

“I am not partial to being indebted to other people. More than that, I want—”

He was interrupted by a thunderous crash.

†

The stone wall behind him collapsed.

The walls of the inn were made from stones of various sizes stacked on top of each other and held together with lime mortar. It wasn’t like they were flimsy, but they were no castle walls, that’s for sure.

It could probably be broken by using magic or a large-sized weapon.

—But who destroyed it?

Sylvie jumped away from the doorway, yelling.

“They’re coming from the door, too!”

She landed next to the bed, at Diablo’s side.

Immediately after, the door to the room was smashed open.

Diablo ran his eyes over his surroundings to get a grasp on the situation.

Four people had entered the room: Adventurers, fully armed.

Three of them came from the hallway. One of them was a Dwarven Warrior, who carried a war axe.

The characteristics of a male Dwarf were their short and stout stature, burly muscles, and a beard that completely hid their mouths and necks. They were slow on foot, and weren’t suited for magic; but they excelled when it came to brute strength and tenacity. They were naturally gifted with the talents needed for the Warrior class.

Everything about this assailant truly screamed “Dwarf.”

Following the Dwarf were two gloomy-eyed Grasswalker Warriors in light armor.

Just like Sylvie, they had the ears and tails of a rabbit, and a childlike exterior. The expression in their eyes, however, was sharp.

These two Grasswalkers had the exact same face. It wasn’t that they just looked similar because they were the same race, it was like they were mirror-reflections of each other.

—Twins?

They were armed with daggers, and stared onwards with dark, stagnant eyes.

The one who had entered through the destroyed wall was a Pantherian fighter, equipped with metal claws on both hands.

As their name would suggest, Pantherians were a race who bore ears and tails like that of a panther, housed atop flexible, lithe bodies. Because of their superior agility and physical strength, they excelled in close combat.

Diablo and the others gathered around the bed in the center of the room.

It wasn’t that wide a space, and they were soon surrounded on all sides.

—These guys are supposed to be Adventurers!?

“...Did you not notice this!? You seem like you would be able to detect an attack like this before it happened!” Rem asked Shera, accusingly.

Shera had easily sensed an elite squad of Elves who had been concealing themselves in the forest before. She had also inferred where the battle with the Fallen in town had taken place.

She possessed a very keen sense of perception.

For her not to have noticed this attack coming... Were their opponents just that exceptional? Or was there another reason?

Shera puffed out her cheeks.

“There are too many people in this town, so I can’t tell!”

—So that’s what it was.

There were a great number of people in this town. Trying to find those who were coming closer to them with malicious intent was probably harder than finding Elves in the forest for her.

In any case, they were thrust into a sudden fight.

—If possible, it would be great if I could get them to back off by threatening them.

Diablo spoke in a fearsome voice:

“For you fools to appear before me... I assume you no longer wish to live.”

The two Grasswalker twins whispered to each other.

“He’s asking if we don’t want to live anymore, big brother.”

“He did indeed ask us if we didn’t want to live, little brother.”

“Should we answer?”

“No, we will not. Our target isn’t the Demon.”

“Understood, big brother— There she is. It’s the Elf.”

“Yes, it’s that Elf.”

Covering her immodest outfit with a blanket, Shera froze.

“M-Me!? I don’t even know who you are!”

Dumbfounded, Rem once again let out a sigh.

“...Sylvie just explained this to us. These people are Adventurers... No, they are mere criminals after the bounty being offered by the Prince of Greenwood for your capture.”

Diablo ground his teeth together.

—Damn! I left Tenma’s Staff in the corner of the room!

In Cross Reverie, you needed to carry a staff until you reached level 30 or else you wouldn’t be able to use elemental magic. After you passed that level, then you could use magic regardless of your equipment loadout.

Diablo was level 150, so he could conjure magic without any problems, but having his staff made it easier to aim and control the power of his spells.

Not only that, but Tenma’s Staff would raise the user’s INT stat, and also shorten the cast time for magic.

His equipment at the moment consisted of the 《Distorted Crown》, an item with an HP regeneration effect that made him look like he had twisted devil horns growing out of his head; and the 《Demon Lord’s Ring》, a super rare item that would reflect any spell thrown at the wearer.

Right now, he wasn’t wearing the 《Curtain of Dark Clouds》, his cape that protected him from bad status effects and instant death; or the 《Ebony Abyss》, a pitch-black outfit that reduced physical damage and boosted the wearer’s stats.

He had let his guard down, which is why he was currently in this desperate situation.

—But I have to protect Shera!

Rem reached into one of the pockets of her leather belt to pull out a crystal. If she threw it, she would be able to use a Summon.

“...Come forth! Shadow—”

“Who-ho-hoh there!”

The Dwarf Warrior rushed in, swinging his war axe.

—He’s faster than I thought. Is he about level 20?

Diablo pulled Rem towards himself.

“Kyahh!?”

The enemy’s assault ended with him swiping at thin air.

Rem’s concentration interrupted, she hadn’t been able to call her Summon.

Rem looked up at Diablo.

“Th-Thank you...”

“Don’t push yourself. You can leave it to me.”

The Dwarf licked his lips.

“Magic’s pretty dern inconvenient, ain’t it? If ya git beaten afore you can use it, den dere’s no point to it, is dere!”

They were in the middle of a small room, already within range for close-quarters combat.

Most likely, these guys were thinking that they would be able to react before Diablo could do anything.

—These guys are all slow compared to me, Diablo thought to himself.

With his high AGI stat, it seemed like he could fire off three spells in the time it would take the Dwarf to move once.

But, if Diablo used some kind of offensive magic against him, the Dwarf might end up dead.

There was also the option to try and miss on purpose, aiming for the floor or the wall, or something, but he was already too close.

Never mind himself, but he might end up hurting Rem and the others at this rate.

Since a portion of the wall was already knocked out, if things went any further it was possible that the roof could come down on them, too.

—Can I win barehanded like this?

He didn’t have much experience when it came to this. If it was just a one-on-four fight, then he might be able to do it.

But while he was fighting, what if they nabbed Shera? What if Rem was cut down?

—And now that I think about it, where’s Sylvie?

She should have jumped to his side after the door had been busted down.

He remembered that much, but after he had pulled Rem out of the way of that attack to protect her, Diablo had suddenly lost sight of Sylvie.

Suddenly, Sylvie’s voice rang out in the room.

“《Ivy Bind》!”

A burst of magical light surged around where the Dwarf stood. Thick vines grew and stretched out from the floor.

“—Hell? What in tarnation is this!?”

The Dwarf yelled out in surprise, but it was already too late.

The vines rapidly wrapped themselves around the Dwarf, restraining him.

At some point, Sylvie had moved to one of the corners of the room. It was a position where she was out of reach of the Grasswalker twins and the Pantherian’s attacks.

Though she should have been right next to him, that was one incredible Stealth skill she had used.

As would be expected of the Guildmaster, she was truly knowledgeable about fighting multiple opponents at once.

This was a powerful magic that was capable of inflicting the “Bind” status on an opponent, and sealed their movement for a limited period of time.

Diablo was unable to use it.

Ivy Bind was a support spell. It only stopped an opponent from moving, and couldn’t actually defeat them. When used with a group of other people, that’s when its effects really shined, but there was little point in using it as a solo player.

Considering Diablo’s magic power, it was more damage efficient for him to fire off some offensive magic instead of using a roundabout spell like that.

—After all, there wasn’t a time back in the game where I had to worry about not killing my opponents.

Sylvie yelled out in a sharp voice.

“You aren’t Adventurers from Faltra, are you! Where did you come from!?”

The two Grasswalkers started whispering again.

“That’s Faltra’s Guildmaster, big brother.”

“That’s the Guildmaster all right, little brother.”

“That was unexpected, wasn’t it.”

“Yeah, completely unexpected.”

They spoke in the exact same voice, tone and all. It was creepy, to say the least.

The twins stared at each other.

“Should we keep going, big brother?”

“No, we’re at a disadvantage, little brother.”

“Then should we leave him behind?”

“No, we won’t leave him yet.”

“Understood, big brother. If that’s the case—”

One of the Grasswalkers pulled something out of the pouch around his waist.

—Is he planning on using an item!?

The small tube he brought out began to shine brightly.

His vision was enveloped in a dazzling white light.

“Ngh!”

Diablo grunted.

He was completely blinded.

—That was a flash bomb!

These items could be created using a Crafting skill, and would inflict the “Blind” status to everything within a fixed area.

Any player who was blinded received a penalty to their evasion, accuracy, and movement.

To cure it, you needed to either possess some kind of healing magic, use an item, or wait until the effects wore off.

Though the effects of a flash bomb were short lived, it had a high chance of success. That’s why it was a popular item that almost all Adventurers had ended up relying on at least once in their careers.

But even without the Curtain of Dark Clouds, Diablo had a much higher resistance than the other Adventurers here, so it did not affect him much.

From his narrowed field of vision, he saw the two Grasswalkers throwing the Dwarf over their shoulders.

Ivy Bind would prevent the target from moving. So even in the game, other members of the party would be able to move freely.

—But you can carry a bound party member!? Is that even possible!?

There was no command to “Carry” someone in the game.

For just an instant, Diablo was struck by a sense of surprise.

Carrying the Dwarf on their shoulders, the Grasswalkers managed to move surprisingly quick as they escaped into the hallway.

The Pantherian also left through the hole they had made in the wall.

—Should I chase after them and leave Shera here?

Even if he caught them, what kind of information would he get? There probably wasn’t much point to doing that.

There was also no way for Diablo to incapacitate them without killing them.

As he hesitated about what to do, he eventually lost sight of their attackers.

†

Diablo looked around the now quiet room.

The door was broken. It had come off its hinges and was lying on the floor.

The wall behind the bed in the center of the room was crumbling away, window and all.

—This is the second floor, so how the hell did they do that? I can’t believe they used their power as Adventurers for something this stupid...

Fragments of the stones that lined the wall, the lime mortar that held it together, red clay, and grains of sand all littered the floor. The place looked like an abandoned building.

—This just looks awful.

It was maddening that they had managed to get away, but he did applaud their judgment in doing so, however.

They probably weren’t expecting Sylvie the Guildmaster to be here, let alone being inflicted with the “Bind” status.

From what he experienced in the game, being faced with an unforeseen dilemma was related to the party often being wiped out. While you worried about how to deal with the situation, you lost your chance to escape.

These people had come to a decision quickly. They deserved to be praised for at least that much.

Their choice was on the mark as well.

Perhaps because their lives were on the line, they were fast to make a retreat, and were strongly fixated on avoiding being wiped out.

—In this world, death doesn’t mean you just come back to life at a spawn point after losing some experience points. Death actually means death here.

The more he thought about it, the harder it was to use his most powerful magic.

Even if he hadn’t heard Shera’s plea earlier, Diablo didn’t want to kill anyone.

But he wasn’t going to pretend that he was some kind of saint that wouldn’t even harm a fly. If someone was hostile to him, then there might be times where he took their life. To put it bluntly, his own life was much more important than the life of some stranger.

If it was to save someone he actually knew, he probably would end up forsaking a life he didn’t even know.

—But I think there’s a difference between “someone dying because of an unavoidable battle” and “straight up killing someone.”

At the very least, I want to make an effort to try and go easy on people.

As he thought that, it seemed Rem and Shera had finally regained their sight. Normally, the effects of a flash bomb only lasted about ten seconds.

For Diablo, though, it only dazed him a little. Sylvie also seemed to be relatively unaffected.

Looking around the room, Rem breathed a sigh.

“...So, they escaped... I’m sorry, it seems I held you back.”

“What are you saying? They came to the realization that their greed was unmerited and ran off, that’s all. They are just like insects fearing for their lives as they escape through the window; there is no need for you to worry yourself about it.”

Rem gave a timid nod.

Then, she turned her gaze towards Sylvie.

“...Thank you for saving us.”

“Well, I was thinking about leaving it all to Diablo, since he was here. But I thought if I didn’t do something, you might think that I was the one who planned the attack.”

Shera called out as well.

“Thanks for protecting us! I’m really grateful, too!”

Sylvie stuck out her nonexistent chest.

“Heh heh heh... I am a Guildmaster, after all. I know a thing or two about holding down rowdy punks. In fact, you could almost call me an expert in it!”

—I see, so she trained herself in Bind magic.

She was what you would call a “Support Sorcerer.”

In Cross Reverie, they were greatly coveted when in a party, but were a pain to play solo, so they were extremely rare.

They were a class more valuable than Healer Sorcerers.

Whenever he laid eyes on a strong enemy, the first thing that popped into Diablo’s head was how he would fight it.

Sylvie was a Grasswalker. By nature, she was a master of Stealth skills, and possessed superior AGI stats. She could move around without being detected, and even if she was, she could nimbly dodge anything thrown at her. Covering for her flimsy defense like was when she would unleash her Bind magic.

Warriors would be more affected by “Bind”, but could a Sorcerer like Diablo have his magic sealed away by “Silence?”

—I have equipment that prevents negative status effects, so I guess there’s no problem there.

Using support magic showed how skilled the user was as a player.

Though they were difficult to use, when in the hands of a skilled player, they were an extremely dangerous threat.

Support Sorcerers weren’t just geared towards playing with a party, they could only be used in a party. It felt like it was a class only for normies who could actually communicate with other people.

He knew that it would never be suited for him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

—I may be a bit prejudiced towards them, but I always thought of them as “pure on the outside, black on the inside.”

There shouldn’t be any problems one-on-one, but he had to make sure to take great care if he ever fought Sylvie. He would be careful to make sure that it wouldn’t come to that, though.

As Diablo stared at Sylvie, she adorably tilted her head to the side.

“What’s up?”

He had to avert his eyes from this sudden surprise attack.

—No! A Demon Lord does not blush or avert his eyes when a girl (is what she looks like, she’s probably an adult) does something really cute!

With a “Hmph”, Diablo haughtily threw has head back.

“If you had not stepped in, my magic would have annihilated them from this world.”

“Ahaha, now that sounds scary... You sure managed to hold yourself back, didn’t you, Diablo. I think it was a good decision not to kill them.”

“I was not holding myself back. I saw what you were trying to do, so I simply decided to watch.”

—That’s a big fat lie.

He had lost sight of Sylvie.

There was a big difference between Sneak skills here and in the game.

Not only that, but he wasn’t used to having allies around, either.

Sylvie shrugged her shoulders.

“Though I think it would count as justified self-defense, even if you did end up killing them... Killing someone in the middle of town using magic would definitely lead to some kind of investigation. While that’s going on, you wouldn’t be able to protect Shera. There wouldn’t be any point in an acquittal, you know?”

“I have no intent to cooperate in any kind of investigation.”

“Hmm, but you would be going up against soldiers under the direct supervision of the governor, or even the royal capital. If you try to resist, you’d just turn into a wanted man. It wouldn’t just be Faltra; you wouldn’t be able to stay anywhere in the entire Kingdom of Lyferia. Even if you were okay with a vagabond lifestyle and not being able to use inns or shops, I’d think it would be pretty rough on Rem and Shera.”

He couldn’t deny that.

—So if I ended up killing them, it’d be treated like I PK’d someone.

There was a PK (player kill) system in Cross Reverie.

Whether it was in the field or in a town, if you killed a player (even if it was an accident on your part) you would be hunted down like a criminal in the game.

Your name would be displayed in red, and if you tried to enter a town some crazy strong knights would appear who could cut you down in one slash. A bounty could be placed on your head by the country, and you would be in a position where other players would aim for you as well. It was almost the same as becoming one of the monsters in the game.

It seemed you would be treated the same in this world as well.

Diablo had fought against a great number of people in battles, but he had never PK’d someone before.

There was also a PvP system implemented into the game.

Players could face off with each other within dungeons built in their own personal spaces.

It was normally one-on-one, but as long as there was a mutual agreement for it, it could even turn into one-on-six fights.

In any case, on top of it being a fight that both sides agreed to, there was no chance of death for the losers. All that would happen was their money and goods being taken from them.

If you won, your battle record would improve, and the amount of EXP you received would be greatly increased.

Putting PvP aside for the moment.

—Not using magic on those guys might have actually been a really nice move on my part!

Now that he knew he had successfully made it past a particularly extreme choice, his pulse started to beat faster.

But a Demon Lord wouldn’t let something like this make his heart rate go up, so he kept pretending like he didn’t care in the slightest.

“Hmph... So you’re saying that others like the ones who just attacked will come after us as well.”

“Probably, yeah. That’s why I suggested preparing a room for you all at the Adventurer’s Guild—But it seemed like you were trying to say something earlier, right, Diablo?”

—Oh yeah, that’s right.

He had completely lost his train of thought when their assailants busted in.

An essential to clearing any quest was to first gather information. And as of now, the person who seemed like they had the most information that he could talk to would be...

“Sylvie. I’m going to speak with the governor.”

“Mmm... I see...”

It seemed she had anticipated what Diablo was going to ask for.

It was only natural for someone accustomed to taking on quests to think as such.

“If you say you won’t take us, however, then that means I will go on my own.”

“Sigh... I know that’s what you want and all... But I’m a little nervous about it. You’re not very good at being polite with people, you know?”

—I’m polite to everyone, even to people working at convenience stores and stuff!

...But a Demon Lord would never say that.

That especially went for now, since Diablo had to make everyone think that fighting against Diablo would be worse than going to war with the Kingdom of Greenwood.

There was no way he could start acting prim and proper now.

—But it’s a problem if I can’t get any information... I guess there’s no way around it then.

“Hmph... I was only thinking of meeting him on a whim... But if you’re going to refuse me, then that makes things interesting. I will burn that mansion to the ground. If I do, I’m sure the governor is will come running out... Heh heh heh...”

“Whoa there, hold it! Time out! I didn’t refuse anything! Ah, geez... I’m not that good dealing with the governor either... But I’ll take you there. You should be able to see him.”

On the inside, Diablo felt relieved.

If he was just able to meet with this person, he would be able to get all the information he wanted, since this was a matter of the governor not wanting to go to war.

Hiding how he truly felt, Diablo gave a composed nod of assent.

“I shall allow it. Lead us there.”

Rem brushed the dust off her clothes.

“...I will be coming with you, of course.”

“I-I’m coming, too!”

As Shera threw the blanket off of herself, her almost naked body was once again exposed to the world.

Rem scowled at her.

“...Go get changed, stupid Shera.”

“Huh!? E-Even I wouldn’t think about going to the governor’s mansion like this!”

“...Never mind the mansion, going outside in that is not OK at all.”