Hell Mode: Volume 11, page 15
“P-Please let me out!” Pelomas shouted as he grabbed the mithril gate. Only then did it finally sink in that he had become a prisoner at the demons’ base. “Please! Please let me out! I’ll do anything! Please don’t kill me!”
The demon who had stayed behind to stand guard opened the door and peered in. “Hey! Pipe down back there or you’ll turn out like him!”
“Like who?”
Pelomas let go of the gate and turned in the direction the guard pointed. Only then did he finally spot a prisoner that had been here since long before him. He gasped at the horrific sight.
“Whoa!” Pelomas cried.
The prisoner—a beastkin with all four limbs severed—looked up and locked eyes with the trembling merchant. For the first time, Pelomas turned behind him and noticed how surprisingly spacious the cell was. Perhaps this place was used to contain monsters at times; the ceiling was high and the walls were rather far away. Against the wall in front of him was the beastkin, a thick chain tethering him by the neck. He sat quietly and stared at Pelomas.
The sight was so harrowing and pitiful that the merchant gingerly crept forward, toward the back of the room. The best he could do was speak with his fellow prisoner, but he simply could not sit there and do nothing about the pitiful beastkin. As he approached, he noticed that the prisoner was a lionkin, and immediately, various pieces of information rushed into his mind.
“Are you...Prince Beku?” he asked.
“That’s correct,” the lionkin answered, looking surprised. “You know who I am?”
“I do... Shia—I mean, Beast Princess Shia is searching all over for you.”
Beku more closely resembled a lion than Beast Prince Zeu or Beast Princess Shia. Around thirty years ago, Albahal’s Beast King, Muza, had been blessed with an eldest son, Beku. The baby had resembled a beast so closely that the king had instinctively declared that the new Beast King was born, or so Shia had once claimed.
The first king of Albahal, the man who established the Country of Beastkin, was said to have been a descendant of the child born to Garm, the God of Beasts. He was half deity and half beast, and he closely resembled the latter, boasting the tough body of one as well. That story was recorded as part of the nation’s founding, and as a result, it was more favorable if the Beast Prince closely resembled a beast—the closer the better.
Beku had clashed with Beast King Giru thrice, and the final battle, where Beku had finally emerged victorious, was proudly declared the Battle of the God of Beasts, and many Albahalans had reveled in Beku’s triumph. Pelomas recalled that when Shia had shared that story, a sad smile had flashed across her lips.
“Shia? For me?” Beku muttered.
“Yes, Shia is—excuse me, Princess Shia. I’m fully aware of her status in your nation, but she graciously and benevolently allowed me to call her by her name,” Pelomas explained. “In any case, Her Highness is currently infiltrating Patlanta in search of you, Beast Crown Prince Beku.”
The No-life Gamers had members who were formerly serfs like Allen, the party’s creator, as well as those of noble birth like Cecil. Some of them, such as Sophie and Shia, were even royalty from other nations. Naturally, once everyone was in the same party, social rank mattered very little, but it was not rare for people of similar social rank to form a party. The No-life Gamers was simply an anomalous party.
As a member of the Gamers, Pelomas was able to speak with a vast array of people including royals and vagabonds. Given his ample experience, he made sure to speak politely to and use the proper title with royals such as Sophie or Shia, but one day, Shia had claimed that she preferred to be referred to more casually. Because of her high rank, Pelomas had determined that it would be rather rude of him to ignore her request, so he opted to henceforth call her only by her name.
“I see... Shia...” Beku muttered. “She became friends with merfolk like you... It’s very like her. That kindness of hers shines through.”
He flashed a forlorn smile, one that was reminiscent of Shia’s expression. It was apparent that the two were siblings.
“And? What is Ignomasu up to?” Beku suddenly inquired. “Has he started his invasion of the land?”
“No...” Pelomas replied. “But he mentioned leaping to action after tomorrow’s Songstress Contest ends.”
“Ah... So much time has already passed.”
Beku let out a deep sigh, slumped his shoulders, and hung his head. His arms were severed at the elbow, and his legs were reduced to stumps above the knee—it was wretched to look at. Dirty bandages covered his wounds, sullied with blood and pus, and the putrid stench of rotting flesh filled the air. Pelomas realized that he was all too late, but he wished to somehow save this man.
The merchant was well aware that beastkin and humans were at odds. Both Shia and Zeu had hated Allen at first. Additionally, their father, Beast King Muza, had once flown into a frenzied outrage when he was offended by the insolent things Allen had said about beastkin. But Beku saw Pelomas as a merfolk thanks to the effects of Mimic, and until it wore off, the merchant hoped that he could speak with the Beast Crown Prince without any issues. He did not know, however, if making conversation would improve their situation, and he looked around. The cell had no windows, and the ceiling was high up. The solitary opening that served as the only entrance and exit was blocked by a mithril gate. Air seemed to be getting in, but he was not sure where from.
Pelomas recalled that Kyubel had mentioned something about changing teleport destinations and preparing a Holy Beast Stone, to which Shinorom had replied that he was making the final adjustments for tomorrow. Pelomas pieced together that he must be in the Demon Lord Army base where those adjustments were being made, and that the following day, there would be some kind of ritual that required a Holy Beast Stone.
The Songstress Contest would be held the next day as well, and the crystal flower that supported Patlanta would expel its seeds, temporarily weakening its powers to ward away monsters. Pelomas was quickly able to deduce that the Demon Lord Army would strike at precisely that moment.
“Wait... Prince Beku...” Pelomas muttered.
Beku slowly raised his head. “What?”
“Why are you being kept prisoner here, Your Highness? Are you related to whatever the Demon Lord Army is trying to do in Patlanta?”
“Ah, well...” Beku flashed a wry smile. “Romu—no, I believe the demon is actually called Shinorom—claimed that my blood is vital to the liberation of the sealed Daemon God.”
“To resurrect the Daemon God?! Then do you know anything about the Holy Beast Stone?!”
“No. But judging from your expression, it seems my end is near. Thinking back, I was a hopeless fool. I was conceited in my own power and lost my humanity. I was unable to live up to my father’s expectations, and I even sank my teeth into him. Moreover, my only friend, who held unwavering faith in me, was slaughtered in front of my eyes. And now, I’m only kept alive, solely for the resurrection of the Daemon God. Death would be kinder. I would feel much better if I left this world.”
As Beku mocked himself, his cheeks twitched, and Pelomas spotted a glittering tear roll down the lionkin’s cheek. That caused something to stir within the merchant’s heart.
“No. That can’t happen,” he said firmly.
“What?” Beku asked.
“You cannot die, Prince Beku. Your sister is desperately searching for you, and you can’t let her efforts be in vain.”
“But what can I do? As you can see, I’m a wretched sight, and you don’t seem the type who can fight barehanded. Even if you have a weapon, with that frail body of yours, I doubt you have any skills that’ll help in combat.”
Pelomas was impressed by Beku’s keen eye. The lionkin was indeed a seasoned warrior, and as one who stood above others, he could ascertain the skills of others well. It was then that Pelomas remembered the magic bag by his waist.
“I’ve got it!” Pelomas cried.
He had a special magic tool that Captain Rarappa had fashioned, and like Allen’s grimoire, the small pouch could store an incredible amount of things—far more than its appearance would have one believe. The demons had presumably allowed him to keep it since it looked like a normal pouch.
“I’ve got a lot of stuff on me,” Pelomas explained. “Maybe we can find a way out if we use these items wisely.”
The merchant recalled the assortment of items Allen had given him.
Items Inside the Magic Bag
Ancient Wood Abacus (+2,000 Attack, +1,500 Intelligence)
100 Gold Beans
100 Silver Beans
200 Blessings of Heaven
200 Seeds of Magic
200 Fronds of Life
50 Potherbs
Rings and necklaces that raise various stats
10 days’ worth of water and food
Magic tool to make fire and torches
Magic tool that tells time
Other daily necessities
Pelomas pointed to the bag that he had removed from his waist and listed off what was in it. Beku seemed uninterested at first, but he gradually turned pensive and formed a plan of his own.
“I see... You’ve got quite a bit...” he murmured.
“I do,” Pelomas said. “So please, don’t give up. You must escape this prison and see Shia again.”
He did his utmost to offer encouragement, all the while envisioning the person that he wanted to see again.
＊ ＊ ＊
For the next few hours, Pelomas and Beku put their heads together and tried to find ways to utilize the items in the bag. Since they were in one of the Demon Lord Army’s bases, they only had one shot—their escape would have to be flawless. Thanks to the magic bag, they were able to plan how Beku could be spared and how the two could escape the prison, but they needed to map out their actions after that, or else they would merely be fleeing on impulse. Forethought was vital.
Beku’s priority was reclaiming the Symbol of the Beast King, the precious gear that he had stolen from the Albahal royal family, only to have it confiscated from him by the Demon Lord Army. Pelomas wished to obtain the Holy Beast Stone from Shinorom, or at the very least, destroy it. Once both men achieved their respective goals, they would head to the teleportation device and escape the base together.
Numerous times during their planning, the prison guard demon opened the door beyond the mithril gate to check on the prisoners. Whenever that happened, Pelomas acted depressed and begged to be spared. The merchant was relieved once their escape plan was finished, and Beku was tired after speaking with someone else for the first time in a while. The two fell asleep so quickly that they practically fainted.
When Pelomas woke up and sneakily checked the time, it was already seven in the morning. He woke Beku up and told him that they did not have much time. Then, he strained his ears and tried to sense any presence from outside the door. The guard showed no signs of checking on the prisoners, so Pelomas decided to put their plan into action.
“Let’s use this first,” he said, taking out a Blessing of Heaven. He crushed it above Beku’s head, and glowing bubbles rained upon the lionkin. The moment the bubbles touched his battered body, his limbs began to reform.
“W-Wow!” Beku gasped. “I can’t believe it!”
His eyes widened as he watched his limbs, which had been ripped away by Ramon-Hamon, regenerate. Once he had reclaimed his arms and legs, he opened and closed his hands, trying to get a feel for his new limbs, and realized that they were as good as new. He could move just as nimbly as before.
“And wear these, please,” Pelomas said, handing the lionkin rings and a necklace. “They should make it so you can break that chain.”
The two rings raised Attack by +5,000 each, and the necklace gave an additional +3,000 boost. Just then, Pelomas heard the door open behind him.
“Hurry!” he shouted.
Beku leaped to his feet and gripped the chain behind him. The metal began to creak and groan, and then a snap rang out as it shattered.
“Hey! What are you guys doing?!” the prison guard demanded.
Beku placed his hands around his neck and fell to the ground with a deafening thud.
“Huh?!” Pelomas gasped. He crouched down worriedly as harsh crackling emanated from the shackles around Beku’s neck.
“I-I can’t move...” the lionkin groaned.
“Lord Shinorom is amazing,” the guard said. “I’m glad we’ve got some safety measures in place.”
With loud clacking sounds, the cell opened, and two prison guards marched in.
“Eep!” Pelomas cried.
The two demons had been enhanced by Shinorom’s research, and horns grew from their burly bodies. One of them suddenly lunged forward and punched Pelomas, who was too scared to move. The merchant slammed against the wall and collapsed onto the ground as the other guard approached and stepped on the boy.
“Gah!” Pelomas grunted.
“Hey, what the hell’s going on here?” the guard near Beku asked, astonished. “Why does he have his limbs again?”
“Smells fishy... I reckon this newbie’s got something to do with it,” the other guard replied as he buried his foot in Pelomas’s back.
The pain from the punch, the impact against the wall, and the foot suffocating him, coupled with the psychological anguish that his carefully crafted plan was ruined from the beginning, had Pelomas frozen with fear. He struggled to breathe from the terror, and his chest was compressed from the force of the demon.
“Just die already!” a guard roared. “I’ll just tell Lord Shinorom that I had no choice because you decided to cause trouble!”
Pelomas opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out like a dying frog. His hearing was beginning to fail him, and his vision had started to blur. He saw the stone floor Beku was lying on as a guard kicked him. Because Pelomas’s vision was hazy, the image of a smiling Fiona appeared before his very eyes. He wished to see that dazzling smile of hers again, and to make that happen, he had taken up an unfamiliar weapon and challenged both the class promotion and Rank S dungeons. He had even headed for the ocean floor and was now standing at death’s door in an unknown location.
Everything hurts... I’m in so much pain... Maybe everything would be easier if I died... Pelomas mused, but he shook himself free of those thoughts. No! I can’t die here! He gritted his teeth and tried to raise his head when someone lifted his body and checked his clothes.
“Wh-What the hell?!” a prison guard exclaimed. “This guy’s armed!”
Pelomas realized that he was wearing armor made from monster hide underneath his Prostian official clothes. The guard who had grabbed the boy’s arm and lifted him into the air was astonished by the gear. Pelomas used the opportunity and desperately dug through his magic bag, grabbed a Potherb, and crushed it in his hand. The Potherb turned into bubbles of light and vanished. A moment later, a short distance away, one of the prison guards’ heads vanished.
“Huh?” the remaining prison guard asked.
He watched his colleague’s headless body fall to the ground, and when the guard let out a pathetic gasp, his head was also crushed. Pelomas once again fell to the floor, his captor now dead, and Beku, healed from his paralysis, reached down to help the merchant back to his feet.
“Ha ha, you did it,” Pelomas said between coughs as he managed to stand.
Beku was silent for a while, rubbing his stomach.
“You said that you had food, didn’t you?” he finally asked.
“What?”
“I can’t really exert as much power as I like. I think I’m hungry.”
“O-Okay! Got it!”
Pelomas hastily pulled some dried meat from the magic bag, and Beku popped the strip into his mouth and munched away, polishing it off in moments.
“That magic bag of yours really saved us,” Beku said. “Is it yours?”
“Yes. I received it from a friend,” Pelomas replied.
“Then you’ve got an excellent friend. You’d best treasure such people.”
The lionkin gave a sad smile as Pelomas hastily brought out more strips of meat and some water, handing it all to the Beast Crown Prince. Beku finished the meat and drank the water, then gazed at the door outside the mithril gate, clearly worried that someone else might enter. Personally, I’m shocked that this guy can eat beside two headless corpses, Pelomas thought.
“Whew,” Beku sighed. “I can finally take a breather. Now then, what’s your name?”
“I’m Pelo—Peloniki!” Pelomas quickly replied.
“Peloniki. I shall commit that name to memory,” Beku said quietly. “I’ll thank you for your actions one day.”
“I’m very grateful, but maybe we should worry about stuff like that after we’ve escaped.”
“Indeed.”
Beku stepped forward, through the mithril gate, and headed for the door of the prison. Pelomas hastily followed, and moments after the duo started down the hallway, demons spotted them and barred their path.
“Who goes there?!” one called.
“He’s the sacrifice! The sacrifice is fleeing!” another shouted.
“Call for reinforcements! He’s escaped!” a third yelled.
Pelomas was busy wondering whether to prioritize the Symbol of the Beast King or the Holy Beast Stone when he snapped out of his thoughts, surprised by the demons. In front of him stood Beku, who clenched his fists and quietly readied himself for battle.
“I suppose we’ve got no other choice,” the Beast Crown Prince said. “We’ll defeat them and move forward. Attack, Peloniki!”
“Y-Yes, sir!” Pelomas shouted.
Pelomas braced himself and took out the Ancient Wood Abacus, following Beku down the hallway toward the demons as he did. The first demons to pounce were ones who had horns sprouting from their bodies like the prison guards. Armed with halberds, they lined up and blocked the hall while keeping their weapons low, aiming for Beku’s legs. The escaped prisoners were in a straight hallway, and the demons’ aim was to force them back into their cell.
