October, Year 2174 of the New Calendar — the city of Val was attacked by demons.
The entire city was wiped out, with only a handful of people who had been outside the walls surviving the slaughter.
Thanks to the efforts of the Sword Saint, the professors of the Magic Association, and the local adventurers and nobles, all the demons responsible for massacring civilians were hunted down and executed.
Investigations into the demons' purpose, thods, and timing behind the Val invasion began imdiately.
Although demon attacks had grown increasingly frequent in recent years, this was the first ti a city so far from the border had been completely annihilated.
People were forced to confront a terrifying possibility — demons had already infiltrated deep into human territory.
Public pressure surged for more advanced detection magic, leaving the scholars responsible for updating spell models drenched in cold sweat… because they truly had no idea how demons were hiding among humans without being detected.
Anti-demon sentint exploded, and recruitnt numbers for the border armies skyrocketed.
The border generals had to publicly clarify that the frontier armies were a defensive force, not an offensive one — humans couldn't even survive the miasma of the Western Continent, so attacking demons was impossible in the first place.
In a sense, Doslepo really had caused a massive incident.
If he were still alive, his "score" would be absurdly high.
The destruction of a city should have been a tragedy worth mourning — the dead were still waiting for justice.
But the living needed comfort too.
After surviving such a ntally crushing battle, people desperately needed sothing to relax their minds and soothe their shaken spirits.
Thus, on the second day after the battle, a victory feast that would last through the night began in Beddford City.
The the of the feast was simple:
Eat and Drink!
Ingredients from the gourt zone and every tavern's precious liquor reserves were hauled out onto the streets.
In the central plaza, a massive bonfire roared, roasting creatures of absurd size. Their aroma drifted through the entire city.
Whole roast pigs and other foods requiring no preparation were even more plentiful.
The Bedford Family funded the majority of the event, with the rest donated by supportive rchants.
There were no grand decorations — only a few hired mages who conjured colorful floating orbs along the streets, and magical fireworks exploding overhead every now and then.
Count Charon called it "sending off the dead with fireworks."
Truthfully, holding a feast at such a delicate ti was inappropriate.
Anyone could report the event to the king and get Charon into serious trouble.
But unlike his father Philip, Charon excelled in one thing — he clearly understood who kept the city alive and thriving.
Adventurers.
So even if soone tattled, he was determined to hold a feast and reward those who contributed the most.
Of course, he invited the Church of Holy Light and the Magic Association as well — though neither seed in the mood to attend.
The streets were overflowing with noise.
People packed in shoulder to shoulder, so passed out hugging barrels of alcohol, others snoring loudly, and many singing wildly off-key.
Bards flooded the streets — wherever there was fire and food, there was music.
They plucked their fine or battered instrunts and sang tales of heroes.
Soone had already written a song about the Battle of Val.
Although crude and hastily made, it still attracted the largest crowd. People always loved the newest stories.
Hmm? That bard looked familiar.
Wasn't he the one who made the ballad about Sein's rampage?
And the earlier one that had flattered Count Philip?
Inside a tavern overlooking the street, Drew leaned against the window, watching the crowds.
He downed a mug of beer — no reaction at all. Dwarves were born drinkers.
"What're you thinking about, brooding alone by the window?"
A heavily drunk Roger suddenly slung an arm around Drew's shoulders, nearly collapsing on top of him. His legs wobbled like jelly.
"Low-grade Healing," Drew muttered, slapping a spell onto him.
Roger instantly sobered up. He glared angrily.
"Hey—hey! The pinnacle of drinking is enjoying that gentle buzz, okay!?"
"That wasn't 'buzzed.' That was 'dead drunk.'"
Drew shot him a look of contempt.
"I was just thinking… why did the Association's professors co to a place like this? Shouldn't they be doing research?"
"Then go ask them," Roger waved him off. "Right now is relaxation ti. No work talk."
"I asked already. They said soone discovered a new magical school in the Dungeon."
Roger froze mid-step.
"…Give details."
After hearing the explanation, he nodded slowly.
"So it's that 'Magic' they used in Val. No wonder I've never seen anything like it."
"It's been ages since a new magic school was discovered. If that Magic is real, it's no surprise the Association's shaken up."
Roger completely forgot that he possessed Ambush Shard — which ca from a similar origin.
He was too focused on monsters to care about magic theory.
"But I still don't get it," he said. "Those professors are so prideful. They just told you all that when you asked?"
"No. They called over."
Drew ordered another beer.
"They said the information about Magic ca from a stranger. They all ca to the city to et him — but now they can't find the guy. They asked if anyone here matches the description."
He chugged the beer in one gulp, then slamd the cup onto the window fra.
"And when I said I didn't know, those bastards threw out! Hell! Just because they know a little more magic than , they act like gods!"
Roger gave him a sympathetic look. So this wasn't so serious matter — Drew just wanted to vent.
Sotis this old dwarf was unexpectedly entertaining.
"Exactly! Just a bit more magic and they act all high and mighty!" Roger slamd his cup onto the windowsill too.
They grinned at each other — united in shared frustration.
From behind them, the tavern waitress spoke gently:
"Gentlen… if you break the glasses or the windowsill, you'll have to pay for them."
"…"
Roger tossed her a few silver coins.
She instantly wheeled over a cart full of empty glasses.
"Feel free to smash as many as you'd like!"
Ignoring her, Roger asked:
"So what's the deal with the Sword Saint? He really ca all the way here for the Larva Tear?"
"Of course," Drew replied. "We got his training last ti thanks to info about it. After so many days, it's no surprise he ca personally."
Roger stroked his beard, wondering whether the Sword Saint or the Farron Undead Legion was stronger.
Could he use the Sword Saint's power to raid the mutated Sein Dungeon?
If he could squeeze into the Sword Saint's team as an assistant of so sort…
Maybe he could get his na etched onto the First-Clear Monunt.
Maybe even leech so first-clear rewards.
And maybe ask the Sword Saint to help him beat monsters so he could throw Pokéballs at them?
…No, no.
There was no way a Sword Saint would indulge him like that.
He got so excited he accidentally yanked out a few beard hairs.
"You idiot, why are you pulling my beard!?"
Drew imdiately chased him, fists swinging.
The tavern erupted with laughter.
---
Outside the city, atop a raised hill, a wolf pack howled at the full moon — tempted by how delicious it looked.
Darrick lay on the grass, staring blankly at the night sky.
This condition was known as post-revenge emptiness syndro — when soone who had dedicated their entire life to revenge suddenly achieved it, leaving them unsure how to keep living.
Challenge the Farron Undead Legion next?
Impossible.
His Farron Greatsword had been tossed to him out of pity — maybe acknowledging his persistence, or maybe because they were simply tired of him.
Just thinking about going back made him feel embarrassed.
The city was lively, but wolves weren't allowed inside, so he stayed outside with his old companions.
No one realized he was the one who killed Doslepo.
He didn't brag about it either.
Even now, people assud Doslepo had escaped.
Staying hidden wasn't so bad.
A stray magical firework misfired, exploding outside the city in a burst of color.
Darrick's gaze drifted southwest — toward Val. A single road connected the two cities.
No carriages would be coming from that direction for a long ti.
Val was gone — its buildings assimilated into flesh monsters that crumbled when they died.
The survivors had lost their hos.
Their families' bodies had disappeared.
They were surely sobbing sowhere right now.
Darrick clenched his fists.
All of this was the demons' fault.
If demons never existed…
Wait.
Why couldn't demons be eradicated?
What if soone built a military force dedicated solely to exterminating demons?
What if that force pushed them all the way to extinction?
And what if…
Why couldn't he be that person?
His thoughts raced. Possibilities flashed through his mind.
He rolled over—
And locked eyes with a pair of wide, sparkling eyes.
"Wah!!"
Darrick shot upright.
The wolves panicked with him — one even bit its own tongue.
"You—you—!" Darrick pointed at the girl. "When did you get here!?"
"Ehehe." Maru stuck out her tongue. "I finally found you."
"…Found ? What for?" Darrick asked blankly.
"To visit our big hero, of course."
Hero? What hero?
Maru suddenly pulled out a recording stone.
With a little mana, an image projected into the air.
It showed a man howling like a wolf while fighting a demonic foe.
The angle perfectly captured the entire scene — the battle looked dramatically cool.
Darrick froze.
The wolf-howling man looked more and more familiar.
"Wh—where did you get this…?" he asked, stunned.
"No idea. But it's already spread through the whole city!"
The whole city!?
Darrick felt lightning crash through his skull.
Maru patted his shoulder, eyes full of envy.
"You're going to be famous, kid."
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