LVVL 91

Chapter 91

Splash—

“Eric! Eric, where are you!?”

In the underground sewers beneath the fortress—
Having heard from the commander that Eric had gone down there, Allen rushed in with his adjutant.
He moved cautiously, one hand brushing against the damp walls as he peered into the pitch darkness, shouting his brother’s name in a worried voice.
But the only response was his own voice echoing eerily off the wet stone.

“Sir, there are too many passages. This one’s blocked, and that one too…”

The adjutant held up a torch, revealing that every direction looked exactly the same—an endless maze of identical tunnels.

“Damn it… if only there were some trace of him.”

With no other choice, Allen had to search the sewers himself.
But the labyrinthine tunnels twisted endlessly, and the stagnant water made it impossible for footprints to remain.
Finding his brother here was anything but easy.

‘Please… please be safe.’

No matter how much Eric had changed recently, Allen couldn’t forget that his brother had been born without the goddess’s blessing—an incompetent in everyone’s eyes.
The rumors of Eric’s recent accomplishments were almost unbelievable, yet the image of his fragile younger brother, etched in Allen’s mind for years, didn’t fade easily.

And to think that that Eric had entered this unknown place with no more than two guards at his side…
The thought alone was enough to make his heart pound.
If a named monster had dug a hidden tunnel and infiltrated this place, what then? Just imagining it made Allen’s stomach twist.

How long had he been walking, heart pounding, nerves on edge?

Fwoooosh—

Far down the corridor, a faint reddish glow flickered to life.
With it came a gust of hot wind.

“Sir, did you feel that just now—?”
“Yes. I felt it too.”

Allen stopped in his tracks. His adjutant gave a tense nod, and both turned toward the source of the light.

“Eric!”

Heat waves in the cold, damp sewers?
Sensing something terrible was happening, Allen’s heart clenched.
He prayed silently that his brother was unharmed—and sprinted toward the light.

Crackle—Pop—

The flames that had been raging moments before were now dying down.
Eric, holding the unconscious Lillian who had exhausted herself with magic, quietly watched as the fire sputtered out under the dripping water from the ceiling.

Beyond the curling smoke, a large shadow stumbled forward, its outline growing clearer.

“Ghh… guh… grrr…”

The face that emerged was grotesque—its goggles shattered, eyes bulging even more hideously than before.
The creature’s entire body was covered in burns, its skin blistered, split, and melted in places.

“Agh… it hurts… it itches… grrraaah!”

Portio groaned in unbearable agony, clawing at his own flesh.
Even as bloody chunks of skin tore away, he couldn’t stop himself.
Eric silently tightened his scorched hand around his sword’s hilt once more.

“M-my inventions… my precious babies…”

Portio’s charred fur bristled as his gaze fell on the destroyed contraptions scattered across the floor—
Broken pickaxes, shattered shovels, and half-melted pitchforks.
Each invention ruined beyond recognition.

Picking them up with trembling hands, he glared at Eric with eyes full of hatred.

“You… you did this! I’ll kill you… I’ll KILL YOUUU!”

With a howl of rage, Portio charged.

“Lady Leona. Be ready.”

Eric sighed. If only it had ended with that explosion.
Even while burning alive, the creature had managed to cling to the ice created by Frost Step and survive—
his left side, faintly damp, remained mostly intact.

“GRAAAAAHH!”

Now more beast than man, Portio screamed and lunged.

Vrrrmm—

The creature swung its familiar weapon.
Eric pressed his back to the wall, waiting—then threw himself low to the side the moment the metal pitchfork came crashing down.

CRUNCH—
SMASH—

‘He still has that much strength!?’

The weapon smashed into the wall where Eric had just been standing, half-destroying it before raking the floor in a shower of debris.
Sweat trickled down Eric’s temple. Even half-melted, the creature’s strength hadn’t diminished.

“Lady Leona! Now!”

Seeing the pitchfork momentarily stuck in the rubble, Eric shouted.
Leona, who had been waiting with her sword drawn, moved in.

SHWING—
CLANG—

Her blade struck the central gear of the weapon.

Thunk—

“GAAAAAAAH!”

With a dull snap, the cogwheel broke off.
Now reduced to an ordinary farm tool, the ruined pitchfork fell uselessly to the ground.
Portio screamed in despair.

Eric charged forward, kicking off the ground.

Whoosh—
Slash—

“Grrraaahhh!”

Thud—

His blade flashed, slicing through the blistered, raw flesh.
Eric watched the creature collapse to one knee, clutching the wound, and stepped back to reassess.

‘The burns melted his hide and fur—no wonder my sword’s cutting easier now.’

“Ghhh… I’ll kill you… I’ll…!”

Clatter—

Portio tried to hold the wound, but then—snarling—grabbed a nearby pickaxe instead, intestines spilling from the gash.

“Sir, allow me—”

Tap.

“No need.”

Eric raised a hand to stop Leona and simply watched as Portio stumbled toward him.

Vrrm—

“Die—”

A moment later—

BOOOOM—!

“GAAAHHH!”

A deafening explosion erupted in midair.
The pickaxe—and the hand that held it—blew apart.

“Guh… huff… wh-what? Why…?”

“Why? Isn’t it obvious? The device that causes explosions had been overheated by the flames.
The moment you gripped it tightly, the pressure built up—and it exploded.”

Metal shards and bloody chunks flew in every direction.
Portio’s left hand was now missing all but the thumb; his right palm had a gaping hole.

“A so-called inventor who doesn’t even understand that—no wonder all your ‘creations’ are junk.”

“RAAAAHHHH!”

Eric watched him with something like pity as Portio screamed and scrabbled for another weapon.

BOOM—

“Huff… no… impossible… My inventions… they can’t lose!”

Portio snatched up whatever remained—shovels, hoes, sickles, rakes—and hurled them one by one.
But Leona deflected them all with ease.
Finally, Portio’s madness ebbed, and he let out a hollow, broken laugh.

“Honestly… what’s so hard to accept? You lose, you lose.”

“N-no…”

Eric stepped closer and drove his sword deep into the wound he’d opened earlier.

Thrust—

“Eric!”

A chilling sound, and the creature went limp.

At that exact moment, from far down the corridor, a voice shouted his name.
Eric turned.

“Eric, are you alright? E—”

Allen stood there, eyes wide in disbelief.

He saw everything—
the dying embers crackling on the floor, the sewage running red with blood and intestines,
and at the center of it all, his little brother pulling a bloodstained sword from the corpse of a giant, ratlike monster.

“…You… did all this yourself?”

He had heard of Eric’s recent exploits, but witnessing them in person was another matter entirely.

The weak, fragile brother he had known was gone.
In his place stood a hardened warrior, eyes cold and sharp from countless battles.
And in that moment, Allen knew—
the boy before him was no longer someone to protect.
He was a rival—a worthy contender for the title of heir.

“Yes.”

A simple answer.
The brothers locked eyes in silence.

Step—

“Heh heh heh… I came to see why Portio hadn’t returned, and look what I find.”

The voice came from the collapsed passage Portio had emerged from.
Eric flinched, turning sharply.

“Eric Ater.”

A dry, mocking tone—familiar yet hateful.
From the darkness stepped a short, wiry old man with a cruel smile.

Eric swallowed hard.

‘Damn it. Of all times—why now…’

No Grand Duke. No soldiers. Not even Gregorius.
And now, one of the Twelve Demon Kings had appeared.

“It seems you’ve ripened nicely in the short time I haven’t seen you.”

The Child Demon King.

Despair filled Eric’s eyes as he faced the smirking old man.