Hell Mode: Volume 6, page 4
Suddenly, Allen understood what Zeu was truly intending to do. Up until now, Zeu had been unable to assemble a party with sufficient skills to clear the dungeon, stopping him from impeding his older brother’s succession to the throne. Sure, there were a lot of people with one-star classes who would be willing to join, but it was all but impossible for him to form a party consisting of three-stars and above. However, even in light of the troubles he faced, Zeu continued to stay here for the sake of the beastkin.
Allen had previously heard from Uru that not all beastkin who came from Albahal to challenge the incredibly dangerous Rank S dungeon—a task that came with a fifty-fifty chance of death—had come of their own free will. Apparently the crown prince, Beku, had ordered that all beastkin with a Talent must spend a year at the Rank S dungeon. Those who refused would be arrested on charges of treason, so there were quite a few who begrudgingly had come here. It seemed that Zeu was using his status as the Beast Prince to take command of all these beastkin in hopes of sending as many of them home as soon as possible.
Of course, Zeu himself would never admit as much. He quickly changed the subject in hopes of lightening the atmosphere after Uru’s tear-filled exclamation.
“You know, I figured you all to be pretty young, but I can’t believe that you’re just now reaching adulthood. So that means you were even younger when you performed all those heroic acts and saved Rohzenheim.”
A thoroughly drunk Cecil stood up, stein in hand, at Allen’s side.
“That’s right! We’ve always been awesome, I’ll have you know!”
“You don’t say?”
Picking up on the Beast Prince’s expression of interest, Cecil stumbled over on unsteady legs to regale him with stories of the events that unfolded when she was ten years old.
“Here we go again,” Keel whispered under his breath. He had heard this story dozens of times back when they were together at the Academy. It was not that there was anything wrong with the story, per se, but he had grown quite tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.
“...and then, WHAM, he took down the murdergalsh with nothing but a short sword!”
Cecil did her best imitation of Allen shoving his short sword through the murdergalsh’s eyeball while the monster gnawed on him. Her actions were even more exaggerated than usual, probably due to the alcohol. It was hard to believe that she came from a noble family.
“We, too, have murdergalsh in our country, though I must admit that they’re quite a handful. I’m quite impressed to hear you took one down at the age of ten.”
“Yep! Pretty amazing, huh!”
Cecil narrowed her gaze at Allen, prompting him to be more forthcoming about his achievements. However, Allen was starting to get a bit drunk himself and failed to pick up on what Cecil was trying to say. He instead changed the topic to something he found more interesting.
“Nah, there are a lot of people way more impressive than me. Take Dverg here for example. He slew a red dragon when he was ten.”
The story of Dverg slaying a dragon was well-known throughout Ratash. In fact, there was a picture book titled The Heroic Sword Lord Dverg. The priest at Allen’s Appraisal Ceremony had even read it to them. However, Dverg merely continued to quietly sip at his drink, showing no interest in joining the conversation.
“I wanna hear about Dverg’s story too! Was the red dragon really tough?” Krena, even more interested in the topic of dragon slaying than Allen, pressed the topic.
Dverg let out a sigh of defeat so heavy it reminded Allen of a dragon’s breath. Finally, he started to speak.
“Well, yes, he was quite tough...”
A red dragon had lived near the village where Dverg was born. Once a year, it demanded that the villagers offer it a living sacrifice. Dverg first learned of this when one of his friends was chosen to be the sacrifice and taken to the dragon. He wanted to do something—anything—to put a stop to it, but no one would help him. The adults had accepted that this was simply how things were.
Dverg went to the village’s weapons shop and stole one of their best swords before heading off to save his friend. He somehow arrived right as his friend was about to be eaten and, after an arduous battle, miraculously managed to lop off the red dragon’s head. However, were he to have to pull off the same feat again, he doubted he would be able to.
With that, Dverg ended his story. Judging by the dispassionate way he told it, Allen figured he must be used to recounting that tale by now. Children in particular could probably hear it time and time again without getting sick of it. Most likely, the only reason he had agreed to tell it this time was that he wanted to be nice and not ruin the celebratory atmosphere.
“Wow!”
All eyes were on Dverg, everyone beaming with admiration.
“Hmm.” However, Dverg apparently had nothing more to say on the subject and merely went back to drinking in silence.
Krena propped herself up, apparently wanting to hear more, when she noticed Uru suddenly jump to his feet. “Huh?! What’s going on?!”
Allen was quick to his feet as he, too, realized that the cheers of the festivalgoers outside had changed to shocked cries.
“Something’s happened! Let’s check it out!”
Everyone got up and made their way toward the door, rushing in the direction of the screams. As they ran, Allen Summoned a Grass C and used its Awakened Ability, Potherb, to sober everyone up. Upon reaching the temple, they had to push their way through the clamoring crowd to get any closer.
The area in front of the temple was a large, open square devoid of any shops or roads running through it. There, Allen found a crowd of dwarves huddled close together, at the center of which stood a familiar face—Admiral Garara.
“Pepeku is still in the dungeon! Bobogua too! Get yer hands off me!”
The admiral was screaming to be heard above the clamor of the crowd. He was missing an arm, and both of his legs were twisted in unnatural directions as if they had been crushed.
“They made a wall so we could escape! There’s nothing we can do for them now. Besides, we’re all out of healing herbs. We need to heal up your wounds quickly!” The two dwarves flanking the admiral supported his weight as they picked their way through the large crowd of onlookers, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.
Allen, who stood a whole head taller than the dwarves, easily assessed the situation. He took a Blessing of Heaven out of Storage and used it without even a moment’s hesitation. Admiral Garara’s missing arm and crushed legs returned to their normal state in an instant, and all of the other dwarves’ injuries, both minor and severe, were also fully healed.
“Wh-What was that?!” Garara was taken completely by surprise. He looked around frantically after witnessing such an incredible act.
Allen spoke up. “I healed you with an elven elixir.”
“Ah... Allen.”
Apparently the admiral remembered his name, at least.
“Yes?”
Garara approached Allen on his now-healed legs.
“Do ye by chance have any more o’ those elixirs ye used just now?”
“Admiral?!”
Though the dwarves did not seem to understand what he was going on about, Allen instantly picked up on what the admiral intended to do.
I see. His men must be really important to him.
“I do, but what do you plan to use them for?”
“T’ save my friends, o’ course!”
Your friends, huh?
Allen had assumed that they had a sort of hierarchical relationship, but apparently Admiral Garara considered them not his subordinates, but his friends.
“But admiral, we’re all outta medals!” His dwarven companion grimaced.
Zeu, who stood even taller than Allen, called down to Garara.
“Perhaps it would be best to change locations and take a moment to collect yourself, Garara.”
“Hm? Prince Zeu?”
Having apparently calmed down a bit, Admiral Garara was finally taking in his surroundings. He and his party were drawing quite a bit of attention, standing right at the temple entrance to the dungeon—and in the middle of the Dungeon Festival at that. Given all this, Zeu invited them to Allen’s base.
“Of course, your party can come as well.”
“Well, this is certainly quite a feast,” the admiral commented upon stepping into the dining hall.
“Ah, yes, we were celebrating Allen and his friends’ coming-of-age, you see,” Helmios explained briefly.
“Huh? Now that ye mention it, ye joined the war before graduatin’, didn’cha, Meruru?”
Meruru nodded sadly in light of the circumstances. “That’s right.”
“There’s a lot of food left. Would you like something to eat?”
“Ye don’t mind? We’ve been tryin’ ta get away since mornin’ and haven’t had a chance t’ eat. Yer a lifesaver.”
Trying to get away, huh?
The dwarves who had been gawking at the dining room since they arrived immediately started taking food. Seeing that, Allen did not mind in the least that Zeu invited the admiral and his party to their base without consulting him, nor the men eating up the feast meant to celebrate their coming-of-age. Allen wanted the exhausted dwarves to eat up and get some rest, of course, but there was also something in it for him and his friends.
Admiral Garara and his party of twenty were the first to take on the Rank S dungeon’s final floor boss and live to tell the tale. From what he gathered from them as they spoke between bites, only fourteen members had survived the incredibly difficult boss fight, the likes of which they had never seen before.
Naturally, Allen knew that there was no guarantee of landing on a winning strategy the very first time you faced a boss. You needed to use whatever information you could get to form a strategy, and at present, Admiral Garara and his party were the only people with such information. Allen did not plan on interrogating the exhausted admiral for information, but if he and his party were to take on the boss at some point, he would need to gather as much intelligence as he could if he wanted to avoid putting his friends in mortal danger.
Well, I seem to have figured a few things out, at least. First off, you can run away from the final floor boss even after you’ve entered combat. While it’s not impossible to escape, it’s apparently difficult, making it not much unlike a death stage, I guess?
Even the simple knowledge that they could run away from the battle was quite useful.
“I don’t think we have nearly enough liquor for this many. Uru, go buy some more for us.”
“As you command.”
The large barrel Zeu had brought with him did not seem like it would stand a chance with the addition of Admiral Garara and the thirteen other dwarves.
As the dwarves continued to eat and drink their fill, Garara sat alone, gazing into the wooden stein in his hand, small ripples rolling across the surface of the liquor.
“Adults, eh? We’d been together just about since they reached adulthood, and now they just throw their lives away like that fer an old washout like me...”
Allen finally spoke to the admiral. “You’d been battling since the morning, huh?”
“Yer right about that. I wanted t’ clear the dungeon in time fer the Dungeon Festival.”
“But it’s well into the evening now. Did you really spend over half a day fighting?”
“That we did. I already knew shortly after the battle began that we didn’t stand a chance o’ winning, but we just couldn’t get away from the monster ’til a little while ago.”
“You, the party who’d taken down BB and Crimson?”
Allen figured it must have been quite the impressive monster for Admiral Garara’s party to figure they stood no chance against it, especially considering that they had taken down each of the Rank S monsters on Floors 2 through 4.
“Aye. You’d probably start thinkin’ the same the moment ye laid eyes on it.”
Upon hearing the admiral’s words, some of the dwarves sitting next to them began to sob at the thought of their lost comrades. Garara then began to tell Allen about the final floor boss. As he spoke, the liquor began to take hold. The more inebriated he grew, the more the admiral took on a sullen tone as he started telling stories of some of his past exploits in whatever order they came to mind. Apparently he was once an adventurer. He had been bought by the previous emperor for his rare Talent and became an admiral of the Baukis military. The way he told it, the old emperor was much better than the current one.
The twenty members who challenged the final floor boss that day had come to join his party in a variety of different ways, such as from having known him since his adventuring days, to being his subordinates after he became an admiral, and more.
Before Allen realized it, it was already pitch-black outside. One of the dwarves made their way to the admiral.
“What’s our next move, boss?”
“Hmm, good question.” He gazed at the liquor remaining in his cup and sat there in silence. Allen and the others all awaited his decision. After gulping down the rest of the liquor, he finally spoke up. “I’m disbandin’ the party.”
“D-Disbanding?! But the emperor ordered us to clear the Rank S dungeon, didn’t he?!”
“And? Obviously, we’re gonna ignore that. Do ye really wanna fight that thing again?”
The dwarves all fell silent, swallowing hard. Twenty of them had faced the monster, and they had lost several comrades in the fight. They all knew that it would be an even greater challenge to take it down with fewer men. However, Admiral Garara was a military man. Orders from the emperor of Baukis were final.
“Don’t ye worry. It was a decision I made all on my own, so it’s got nothin’ to do with ye. You can stay here, go back to yer hometowns, or do whatever else ye want.”
Garara intended to take full responsibility.
“You aren’t going home, Admiral?”
“Heh, all I have left is t’ return to is the same as what I had before: an idle, aimless life.”
He refilled his stein with more booze.
So he’s just gonna retire? Hm, then I guess Zeu needs to finally get around to getting himself a party together.
Allen realized that this ultimately left clearing the Rank S dungeon up to him and the No-life Gamers.
Chapter 4: Class Promotions and New Powers
After losing many of his comrades in the battle against the final floor boss and disbanding his party, Admiral Garara had begun coming to the No-life Gamers’ base every day. While there, he would do nothing but drink. Today was no different: he could be found drinking straight from the cask on the dining room sofa.
Of course, Garara had a headquarters of his own. The building was far more impressive than the one the No-life Gamers inhabited, which was only fitting considering he was a hero of the Empire of Baukis and held the top rank in its military. However, now that he had disbanded his party, he no longer felt that he could face his men.
Even now, the men who once made up the members of his party were still maintaining the building. When Garara disbanded the group, he had told his party members and base staff that he would distribute all of the money they had earned over the past half year challenging the dungeon. The dwarves remained, however, awaiting the return of their admiral. From time to time, they would even stop by to check in on him, apparently going so far as to give money to Helmios’s servants to pay for his food and drink.
Neither Allen, Helmios, nor their respective party members sent the drunken admiral on his way, choosing instead to sit by and patiently watch over him. As a military man, he must have witnessed the deaths of his comrades and subordinates on countless occasions, which suggested just how much the battle must have affected him for Garara to end up this way.
It was on that day that Spirit God Rohzen came to Allen, who was watching over Admiral Garara as the dwarf reclined deep into the sofa, drink in hand.
“Today is the day three of your members receive their class promotions.”
“Understood. Please begin,” Zeu responded.
What’s Zeu doing here, anyway? Not like it’s really an issue, I guess.
After exchanging information about Shia and Daemonism, Allen had told the beast prince about the class promotions. However, Dogora, Keel, and Volmaar were the ones who were planned to be promoted this time, so there was no real point in Zeu being here. Unless... Allen shot a glance in Helmios’s direction and was met with a smirk. So, apparently the Hero had invited the Beast Prince once again. As a duke in the Empire of Giamut, Helmios also had issues pertaining to social status to contend with.
The Spirit God began to swing his hips back and forth in a dance.
Keel had two class options available to promote to, one of which was the Paladin class, which would give him both offensive and healing capabilities. Dogora and Volmaar, however, only had one option each. Allen had already determined each of their class promotions for them.
Meanwhile, since Sophie was still in the midst of trying to bond with her fourth juvenile spirit, Rohzen decided to wait a month or so—that was, until she and the juvenile spirit had fully bonded—before promoting her.
“Their class promotions are now complete.”
“Thank you.”
After thanking the Spirit God, Allen quickly recorded the Statuses and class progressions of his three friends in his grimoire.
* * *
Name: Dogora
Age: 15
Class: Destroyer
Level: 1
HP: 1,729
MP: 857
Attack: 1,988
Endurance: 1,235
Agility: 1,138
Intelligence: 695
Luck: 953
Skills: Destroyer {1}, Full Might {1}, Axe Mastery {6}, Shield Mastery {3}
Extra Skill: Heart and Soul
XP: 0/10
* * *
Name: Keel von Carnel
Age: 15
Class: Saint King
Level: 1
HP: 970
MP: 1,740
