Evil Avalon
“Isn’t there some kind of misunderstanding between you two? Let’s calm down and talk it out.”
Akagi desperately pleaded, “Please lower your weapons.” However, the First Archery Club, one of the Eight Dragons, held an exceptionally high status at Adventurer High School. They were students who normally strode arrogantly through the campus, heads held high. Even now, despite their faces being violently beaten, it was unthinkable that such people would obediently listen to reason.
In the first place, Akagi was only level 8. If he were dragged into a battle between nobles, he would be sent straight to the afterlife in an instant. Charging in without a plan, driven purely by emotion, was not bravery—it was reckless ignorance.
A flustered Kaworu asked Tachiki what they should do, but even he, the strategist type, seemed unable to come up with an answer. Meanwhile, Pink-chan was trembling, murmuring “wah-wah” with teary eyes, on the verge of fainting. Someone really ought to comfort her.
Personally, I had intended to ignore it even if someone died here, but Akagi dying was unacceptable. If it came to that, I would have to step in with everything I had. Before that, though, I figured I’d negotiate with my reliable angel of a junior.
“(Chi-chan, if things go bad, could you protect that red-haired guy with a barrier?)”
“(...Just so you know, that skill is my trump card, okay?)”
Chi-chan shot me a sullen glare, clearly displeased that I was asking her to casually use her ultimate move. I thought she would refuse, but while muttering, “This favor won’t come cheap,” she discreetly pulled a short staff from her pocket and granted her consent.
She possessed an incredibly powerful barrier skill called Mana Protection, which converted HP damage into MP consumption. Since it could be cast on others, its applications were broad, making it perfect for covert support in situations like this. Once again, I was reminded just how dependable she was.
Just as I felt relieved that Akagi’s chances of dying instantly had dropped, Chi-chan puffed out her cheeks and said, “If Narumi-senpai went all out, wouldn’t this be over easily?”
She probably thought that after seeing me fight in Tokyo. But that was power I could only summon when my life was on the line—desperate, last-ditch strength. In reality, I was timid and weak. I would have to make her understand that later.
While preparing to deploy the barrier or rush in to rescue him at any moment, Chi-chan and I pushed through the crowd, closing in to a manageable distance. As we watched anxiously, Akagi, drenched in cold sweat under the pressure of overwhelming magic, continued his bold persuasion with a forced smile.
“They said they have a reason they can’t let you pass. Before risking lives, wouldn’t it be better to hear them out and decide then?”
“You expect us to listen to the ramblings of a peasant?”
The captain of the archery club slammed overwhelming magical pressure and fury straight at him. The level difference easily exceeded ten—enough to throw any normal person into panic. Yet Akagi, still smiling, forced strength into his trembling legs and refused to back down.
There was no loved one among them—this was merely a conflict between strangers. I couldn’t understand why he would go so far to stop it. But Akagi Yuuma wasn’t the kind of person who decided whether to save someone based on who they were.
Even in DunEx, he had offered his hand to unknown strangers while bleeding himself, only to be mocked, cursed, and sometimes even spat upon. And yet, people were drawn to him, gathering at his side. In the end, he became their guiding light and attained his ideals.
In a game, that was fine.
Every event had a way forward, and I knew them all. The harsher the challenge, the more his abilities blossomed. I even wanted him to keep diving headfirst into danger.
But in reality, there was no guarantee of survival. Without Chi-chan and me, he would already be dead. If he kept charging recklessly into trouble, someday he truly would die.
Still, now wasn’t the time to brood. Kaworu and Pink-chan were pale with fear, so I simply said, “Chi-chan’s here, so it’s fine.”
The archery club captain shook his head in irritation, murderous intent pouring from him.
“This is your final warning. Move—or die.”
“I won’t move until you listen.”
I prayed they would be reasonable nobles, but as expected, their anger only intensified. When they raised their bows, cries of anguish and excited cheers erupted from the crowd. Akagi stood on the brink of death.
Even so, killing a fellow student would bring severe consequences. I believed it was a bluff—but if that arrow were fired, Akagi would die instantly.
I signaled Chi-chan, preparing to act—
And then, a massive bald man suddenly stepped into the fray.
His upper body was bare, muscles bulging, his head gleaming like a monk’s. Smiling innocently, he patted Akagi’s head and gestured.
“You’re good now. Go on.”
The opposing group instantly lowered their weapons, tension evaporating as if the conflict had already ended. Clearly, they placed immense trust in this man.
“Sorry about my subordinates. We were investigating a fortress ahead and had blocked the route. It’s finished now, so you’re free to pass.”
Despite being blasted by the archery club’s concentrated magical pressure, the man didn’t even break a sweat. He didn’t seem to feel anything at all, suggesting a truly monstrous level.
Meanwhile, Akagi staggered back, supported by Tachiki, while Pink-chan and Kaworu hurriedly wiped his cold sweat.
Even standing in front of someone who could kill you instantly drained the mind and dulled thought. While this might have been a valuable experience for Akagi, it placed an equal mental burden on Kaworu and the others. I wished he would be more careful.
Still, watching the opposing clan turn and leave, I couldn’t help but think:
The time Akagi bought with his courage had undeniably altered the fate of that high-level group. To others, it might seem like a lucky coincidence, but to me—the player—it looked like a glimpse of a hero born under a star destined to change the world.
Yet, foolishly, the archery club captain refused to let it end there.
“Die and atone, peasant. 《Burst Arrow》!”
“—《Reflect》.”
The handsome captain fired his weapon skill toward the man’s back. With a thunderous blast, the arrow surged forward in a red flash.
But the man spread his thick arms and activated his skill almost simultaneously. The arrow instantly reversed its vector, hurtling back along its original path with vastly increased force.
The explosive bolt shot back—
Yet, just before it could strike the captain’s face, it slammed into an invisible barrier and stopped. After struggling briefly, its magic dissipated, and it dropped harmlessly to the ground.
The man’s friendly smile vanished, replaced by a ferocious glare.
“...So you weren’t just a bunch of idiot nobles. Even I didn’t expect that.”
Colossal magic surged, warping the air. Even the Eight Dragons froze in terror.
Then, just as suddenly, the pressure vanished.
“Well, I saw something interesting, so I’ll let it slide. But don’t pull that stunt again.”
With that, the man and his group left.
The old man and the group that looked like a raid clan glanced over the nobles as if appraising their worth, then casually said “See you around,” and left just like that. From that brief exchange alone, it was obvious they were an overwhelmingly powerful group. Had things turned into an actual battle, the First Archery Club and all their retainers could very well have been wiped out.
(And that old man… what a sly fox.)
That counter he used—Reflect. It was a signature counter-skill of mages that reversed a projectile’s trajectory once. Seeing his bare hands and muscle-packed physique, I’d assumed he was a martial artist. To think he was actually a mage. If we had fought him without knowing that, he might’ve caught us completely off guard. I didn’t know which clan he belonged to, but it would be wise to remember his face.
Beside me, Chi-chan let out a small breath, easing her tension. When our eyes met, she asked, “If I had been discovered, would you have protected me?” I responded by quietly sticking out my thumb.
The archery club group departed at their captain’s words, “What a letdown. Let’s go.” They had reigned supreme within the school, but now they had clearly realized that there were countless stronger beings within the dungeon. I hoped this would make them think twice before resorting to senseless killing in the future.
The adventurers who had been watching as bystanders also dispersed, clearly disappointed, and the rest of us discussed whether to continue exploring the seventh floor. Although the commotion had settled, Kaworu was visibly upset.
“Just like the intel said, violence and trouble are breaking out everywhere. Whether we continue or head back, we need to stay sharp… Yuuma, don’t ever do anything that reckless again.”
“Yeah. I’ll be careful.”
According to Kaworu, who had been gathering information on her terminal, various clans and nobles were flooding into the dungeon, and violent incidents were erupting on nearly every floor. Some raid clans harbored deep hatred toward nobles, and vice versa. When oil and water collided, even trivial reasons could spiral into deadly conflict.
On top of that, Kaworu sternly repeated, “Don’t ever do something that reckless again.” But Akagi’s core personality and ideals weren’t something that could be changed so easily. If the same situation arose, he would undoubtedly do it again. In that sense, Pink-chan was far more sensible, which was somewhat reassuring. Honestly, if I were choosing a protagonist, Pink-chan seemed far more suitable than Akagi.
As I watched the interactions of this would-be protagonist party and pondered Pink-chan’s growth plan, I casually opened the mail that had arrived on my wrist terminal—
—and nearly released a burst of furious magic as my thoughts were instantly stained crimson by its contents. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to regain my composure.
“What’s wrong? If there’s trouble, you should talk to me.”
“No, some personal business came up. Sorry, but I’ll have to leave here.”
Noticing my sudden change, Kaworu urged me to consult her, but I gently declined. With trembling hands, I sheathed the iron sword at my waist, took another breath, and turned to Akagi.
“I couldn’t really help much today, but thanks for inviting me. If there’s another chance to party up… I’d really like you to call me.”
“Of course. Your movements were surprisingly helpful. I’m looking forward to next time.”
Even though he clearly sensed something was wrong, Akagi smiled, shook my hand, and sent me off. His reckless, heroic nature—brave and eager to protect anyone—was a flaw, but he was someone I could trust. Pink-chan also gave me a soft smile and said “Let’s team up again.” Tachiki, too, was knowledgeable and caring—a genuinely pleasant person. With companions like them, I could entrust my childhood friend without worry.
Since I was in a hurry, I tried negotiating, “Could you look after Chi-chan?” but she herself shook her head and said, “I will accompany you.” There was no time to argue, so I decided to persuade her while running.
We retraced our steps toward the seventh-floor gate room. As I ran, my belly fat wobbling, Chi-chan followed right behind me using a peculiar running style that moved only her toes rapidly.
Her composed expression made it hard to read her thoughts, but I could tell she was deeply curious about me—likely wanting to know the secrets behind the skills and combat power I had shown in Tokyo. Still, I needed to warn her that following me beyond this point out of curiosity could get her seriously hurt.
“Where we’re going now is truly dangerous. You should go back.”
“There’s no need to worry about me. I can protect myself, and even if something happens, I can always escape with a ‘Return Stone.’”
“…Sigh. Then at least wear this and conceal your identity.”
Chi-chan looked at me with stubborn determination, her eyes exactly like my little sister’s when she threw a tantrum. Realizing nothing I said would make her turn back, I resigned myself to layering multiple safety measures.
I took out a spare mask that concealed status information and a robe that diluted one’s presence, handing them to her. She also possessed the status-masking skill Fake, so combined, her identity should remain hidden.
On top of that, since she carried a dungeon escape item—the Return Stone—as long as she wasn’t killed instantly, she should be safe. With that settled, I gave her a quick explanation.
“One of my companions… got caught in trouble. She’s strong enough to take out most enemies, but she seems to be injured.”
“Your companion, Narumi-senpai… I see. I may be of little help, but please leave the support to me.”
I donned my own robe and increased my speed, slicing through the crowded adventurer-packed corridors like a gust of wind. People we passed stared in wide-eyed shock, so I put on my mask as well to avoid standing out.
When we returned to the ruined village teeming with adventurers, we headed straight for the old church that housed the gate room, gliding through the crowd. Regret filled my mind.
I should have exercised maximum caution in this chaotic dungeon—especially that location. It was close to the gate room, and setting up a base there naturally carried a high risk of attack. I bitterly regretted failing to realize something so obvious.
Suppressing my rising anxiety, I entered the bustling gate room.
“Which floor will you be going to?”
“Our destination is the twenty-fifth floor. I’ll open the gate.”
In the corner of the room was the gate magic circle. A gate to the first floor was already open, but I closed it and opened a new one. Sending in magic, a low-frequency hum resonated as violet light spread across the circle.
Chi-chan reached out for my hand, and I grabbed it, jumping in together. As my vision was engulfed in purple, I accelerated my thoughts, organizing the scant information from the mail and the location.
Who were the ones who attacked my companion—and what was their objective?
Since the attack took place near the gate room, their likely goal was control over gate privileges. But only two days had passed since gates became public knowledge, and yet they had already reached the twenty-fifth floor. Why?
They could have already been stationed nearby, but logically, they must have used the gate—meaning they already knew the gate room’s location.
Organizations with such information included the Kinrankai and Colors, but both were crippled after the Tokyo incident. That left only the Holy Empire and the Japanese government.
Most likely, the latter.
And that meant we were dealing with an extraordinarily troublesome and dangerous enemy.
The warped scenery reassembled, and the view shifted into the dim cave I had visited just days earlier. The density of mana in the air was noticeably higher. Holding my breath, I carefully scanned our surroundings.
(Please… be safe, Tenma.)
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