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Chapter 88
“…What the hell? What’s going on?”
In front of the fortress wall, where a fierce battle was raging.
A short distance away, the Demon King of Nightmares, who had been granting humans sweet dreams, frowned as he watched the butterflies vanish into thin air—swallowed by a burst of blinding white light that had erupted from within the fortress.
“So, you don’t know either, huh?”
“What? Are you saying you know what that is, old man?”
Unlike the panicked Nightmare King, the Demon King of Thorns immediately recognized the light’s origin.
Some of the newer demon lords—those who had ascended after the Great War—might not understand, but anyone who had survived that era could never forget that detestable radiance.
“Gregorius.”
A sacred power so thick it made one’s stomach churn, radiating from that dazzling white light.
It belonged to Gregorius, the audacious priest who had repeatedly thwarted the demon armies during the Great War—now the current Cardinal.
“…Gregorius? The northern Cardinal? But wasn’t he recalled to the Central Church?”
At the name that left the Thorn King’s mouth, the Nightmare King’s eyes widened in disbelief.
And rightfully so—he had heard from the Demon King of Death himself that Gregorius was to be summoned back to the capital.
“Heh heh. How should I know? Most likely, something unexpected happened. No need to be so surprised—war rarely goes as planned.”
Though he laughed it off, even the Thorn King found the situation curious.
For a moment, he wondered if the Death King was acting out of petty revenge for the previous incident when his plans were ruined—but quickly dismissed the thought with a shake of his head.
The Death King might be a treacherous bastard, but he wasn’t the kind to jeopardize the grand cause over something so small.
‘Still… this situation—it feels familiar somehow.’
A creeping sense of déjà vu brushed through his mind.
Scanning the fortress walls with narrowed eyes, the Thorn King soon spotted a familiar face among the soldiers driving back the tide of vermin.
The face he hadn’t been able to forget since the battle at Castrum Fortress.
‘…Eric Ater!’
The boy who had defeated Squallor, one of his named lieutenants, despite being in a powerless human body.
Sure, he hadn’t finished the fight alone, but never before had the Thorn King desired anyone as much as he desired that boy.
After the fortress battle, he’d heard that Eric had gone east and rescued the Cardinal of the Eastern Diocese—who had been held hostage by the decrepit Demon King of Beasts.
He had assumed that meant he wouldn’t see him again in this battle.
But to meet him here again, alive and unscathed—what a delightful surprise.
‘Then that means… Gregorius must’ve been rescued by him again? Heh heh. I want him. I need him.’
His eyes gleamed with greedy hunger.
He wanted to rush down there immediately and seize the boy, but the Thorn King restrained himself, pressing down the swelling urge.
‘No, no. Acting rashly will only ruin what could otherwise be achieved.’
Even if Gregorius’s presence was an unexpected twist, the Thorn King knew the balance of power still leaned in their favor.
He’d already ordered other demon lords to dispatch part of their forces to the border—meaning the humans wouldn’t be getting any reinforcements from nearby strongholds.
And even if Gregorius’s holy power weakened his plague-ridden beasts, the Nightmare King’s sorcery, and his own miasma—it wouldn’t be enough to cripple their armies.
‘Besides… no matter how sturdy a fortress may seem, there’s always a weak point somewhere.’
During the days they had waited beyond the mountains for the Nightmare King’s arrival, his troops had not been idle.
Tens of thousands of rats had labored day and night, gnawing and digging relentlessly.
And the result of their work—a creation already complete—would soon plunge the humans into chaos.
“Huff… hah… These damn rats! How many more—”
Squeak—!
Crunch!
“Gah! Damn it, it bit my arm!”
“Don’t panic! His Eminence the Cardinal will block the plague and poison! Focus on cutting them down!”
Over an hour had passed since the defensive battle atop the walls began.
Watching his exhausted soldiers struggle against the endless tide of rodents, Eric narrowed his eyes. Something wasn’t right.
‘What are they trying to do?’
Was the goal simply to drain their stamina before sending the Nightmare King’s army to break through?
No—it didn’t make sense. Even with their overwhelming numbers, the rats weren’t infinite.
The others were too busy fighting to notice, but Eric could see it: the once-solid gray tide was thinning, holes beginning to appear in the waves.
‘By now, they should be making some kind of move…’
Like waves wearing down a cliff, the Thorn King’s forces were gradually diminishing.
It was about time for either the Nightmare King or his goat-headed underlings to act—yet there was no movement.
They hadn’t done anything since releasing those illusionary butterflies earlier.
‘Surely they’re not tunneling under the walls again…?’
Just in case, Eric leaned over the parapet to look down—but saw no holes in the ground.
They had learned from the Castrum Fortress siege, where they had almost fallen for that exact tactic.
He’d made sure countermeasures were in place this time.
So why… why did this still feel wrong?
The Thorn King wasn’t the type to waste troops aimlessly.
“…Lady Leona.”
After thinking hard with a grim expression, Eric finally called to Leona, who was holding the line beside him, cleaving through rats with unflinching resolve.
“Yes, my lord?”
“Could you find the commander who manages this fortress and ask him something for me?”
Something about this situation didn’t add up.
If there were no visible signs of trickery, then there was only one way to uncover the enemy’s scheme—go and dig for it directly.
Squeak!
Slash—!
Thunk!
While Leona left to make inquiries, Eric took her place on the line for a while.
Moments later, she returned, breathless but triumphant.
“My lord! I found out what you asked about!”
At her words, Eric’s heart sank, a cold sweat running down his back.
“There’s a drainage canal that connects the fortress to the outer borderlands. It was built long ago to draw water from the river beyond the mountains. They said it’s been sealed off now, though—something about contamination risks….”
“What? Damn it all!”
A canal linking the fortress interior to the lands beyond the border.
Without hesitation, Eric handed his position to a nearby soldier and bolted.
“Leona, Lillian—follow me! Damn it, they should’ve told us about this sooner!”
“What’s wrong, my lord?”
“What’s going on?”
He didn’t answer—just sprinted down the stone steps, heading straight for the fortress’s underground drainage tunnels.
“The canal—they’re trying to come through the canal.”
“Huh? But they said it was sealed off! Surely it’s not that weakly blocked, especially with the demon army approaching!”
Leona tilted her head, puzzled by his certainty.
Even if such a canal existed, how could the rats have found it so quickly—let alone break through a sealed passage within barely an hour of fighting?
Impossible.
“Yes, it’s sealed—but maybe only halfway. They could’ve collapsed it temporarily. Either way, it’s a problem.”
“Because…?”
“Because that means they’ve been digging for days.”
Eric didn’t stop running, his boots splashing through shallow wastewater as they entered the tunnels.
Even if the battle above had only been raging for an hour, the Thorn King’s army had set up camp beyond the mountains days ago.
Understanding what he meant, Leona’s face paled.
“H-how long have the Thorn King’s forces been in the mountains again?”
“A few days, maybe three or four…? Wait—oh no.”
Exactly. They’d had days to prepare.
And the rats—relentless, tireless—would’ve had more than enough time.
“Is this it?”
After running for what felt like forever, they finally reached the part of the tunnel that connected to the outer canal.
It was surprisingly well-maintained—and more importantly, the path ahead was blocked by a pile of debris.
Eric let out a breath of relief.
“Good. It’s still sealed—”
Rumble… rumble…
The relief didn’t last.
Rrrrraaaaagh! Crack—!
The debris ahead began to crumble, dirt raining down from above—
And through the falling dust, a massive rat burst through, swinging a jagged pickaxe in one paw, a shovel strapped across its back, and a pair of bulging eyes gleaming behind cracked goggles.
“Heh—heheheh! We broke through! Finally broke through!”
The enormous rat squealed in triumph.
“Dad sure is cruel, huh? Just gave me a vague direction and made me dig for days… Huh?”
The creature froze as it noticed Eric and the others on the opposite side.
Eric’s eyes narrowed, his hand moving toward his sword hilt.
Because he recognized it.
That face, that build—
One of the Thorn King’s named lieutenants.
