TRPG 01

Chapter 1

Illustration

The Age of Destruction was finally coming to an end.

The world had been consumed by the Dungeonization phenomenon, where countless places turned into dungeons, and the monsters that poured out of them brought about the collapse of civilization. But together with my comrades, I had managed to stop that destruction.

We hadn’t cleared every single dungeon yet, but among the five Calamity-grade dungeons, the highest tier in existence, we had successfully conquered four.

And now, the fifth and final Calamity dungeon—
“The Abyssal Shore”—was right before its end.

The boss of the Abyssal Shore, one of the great demons who ruled hell itself:

The Fallen Angel, Senteos.

With nothing more than a flick of his fingers or a short chant, he could unleash countless curses. A monster whose very existence was synonymous with disaster.

But now, even he looked pitiful.

Both his legs had been severed, his body collapsed on the ground. His arms were bound tightly with chains of mana, preventing even a twitch of his fingers. His mouth was gagged by the same chains, and three swords—radiating holy light, flame, and deadly poison—were embedded crosswise in his chest, continuously draining what little life he had left.

He was barely breathing, clinging to life, waiting only for death.

I stepped toward him to put an end to it.

All nine of my cores were already overloaded. I couldn’t use holy sword techniques or aura skills—couldn’t even generate mana or aura anymore. I scraped together the last remnants of mana I had and barely managed to coat my steel sword with it.

Even then, the blade was broken in half, and the mana coating was unstable.

Still—

Thunk!

That was more than enough to finish off a creature that was already ninety-nine percent dead.

“…Haa…”

It’s over.

It’s finally over.

The cursed Calamity dungeon was finally cleared.

“It’s over, you bastards!”

As Senteos died and the divine possession faded, exhaustion washed over me so intensely that I nearly collapsed. Still, I forced myself to shout and turn toward my comrades.

But what I saw was despair.

The dragon-fang hunter, Nats.

“You promised you’d make wyvern fritters when we got back!”

The swordsman who had sworn that once the battle ended, he’d treat us to the famous delicacy of Dragon Fang—
his entire body was charred black, reduced to ash.

The head of the Titan family, Lena Titan.

“You said you wouldn’t die until you completed the Twelve Forms of Titan Swordsmanship!”

The woman who claimed she couldn’t die until restoring the lost art now lay with her head severed, rolling lifelessly on the ground.

“Then why… why are you all lying there like this…?”

Every one of them was dead.

Everyone except me.

“Why do you all make promises you can’t keep…?”

I muttered bitterly, trying to suppress the ache in my chest as I looked over my fallen comrades.

Then my gaze shifted to Senteos’ corpse—his head split apart.

Even if we all die, the last one standing must finish him.

The vow we’d made before the battle echoed in my mind.

“I kept my promise…”

I never imagined I’d be the last one left, but still—I kept it.

“Nats… Lena…”

Even though I knew it was impossible.

“Emily… Parker… Sitra… Bailon…”

Even though I knew they’d never answer.

“You should’ve kept your promises too…”

I called their names over and over, until the dungeon collapsed and their bodies faded away with it.

But I couldn’t stay there forever.

“Grrrk?”

“Keek?”

As the dungeon vanished and the original landscape returned, monsters began emerging from all directions.

This place wasn’t the only dungeon around. Countless others surrounded it—and their monsters were converging here.

“…Right. It’s not over yet.”

“Keek!”

“Graaah!”

From every direction, monsters poured in.

They all wanted one thing.

“So that’s what you’re after…”

The core left behind by Senteos—the reward for clearing the dungeon.

To obtain it was to inherit his power.

“…Not happening.”

“Skreee!”

“Kehek!”

But I was in no condition to fight.

My stamina and strength had long since been exhausted. Even the broken sword felt unbearably heavy.

I couldn’t fight.

I couldn’t even run.

Then there was only one option left.

The simplest and surest way to destroy a manifested core—
overload it with mana.

But I had already spent the last of my mana delivering the final blow.

“…Guess I have no choice.”

I made my decision and absorbed the core.

Senteos’ core flowed into my body and sank into my inner world.

I had nine cores in total—Holy Cores and Force Cores—both derived from mana.

But Senteos’ core… was different.

Dungeon cores did not operate on mana.

The moment the incompatible energies collided, they began to annihilate each other.

“Ghhk!”

The destruction of my cores—symbols of my strength and cultivation—caused unbearable physical and mental pain.

But I clenched my teeth and smiled.

Because Senteos’ core was being destroyed as well.

If I erased it completely, then even if I died, no one—no monster—would ever inherit its power.

It’s not like I’ll need it after I’m dead anyway…

The first core shattered.

Then the second.

Then the third.

“Gaaaah!”

By the time the eighth core vanished, only one remained.

“Graaaah!”

“Kyahhh!”

My body and mind felt like they were being torn apart, but I laughed bitterly as monsters rushed toward me.

“You’re too late, you bastards.”

They tore into me, trying to claim the power of Senteos for themselves.

I couldn’t tell whether the cracking sounds were my bones or my final core shattering.

Crack.

With that sound, my last core—my very first—broke apart.

At the same time, Senteos’ core was completely destroyed.

“Grrrr!”

“Kyahhh!”

The monsters continued tearing at me, unaware that what they sought no longer existed.

I felt nothing as my vision faded.

…So this is the end.

I had no regrets.

The world was already ruined.

Even though we cleared the Calamity dungeons, countless others remained.

I had wanted to clear them all… but that was impossible now.

If there were still survivors somewhere out there, I could only hope they would finish what we couldn’t.

Our party… my comrades…

This is where our story ends.

We gave everything we had.

No regrets.

…Well.

Just one.

As death approached, a single thought lingered.

It’s a shame.

If only there had been a way to resist Senteos’ curse.

If only we’d been able to counter it even a little.

Maybe the battle would’ve been easier.

Maybe my comrades wouldn’t have had to die.

Maybe we could’ve survived together and seen the new world.

…Funny what you think about when you’re dying.

With that thought, I closed my eyes.

“Roizen.”

…But then—

“Roizen.”

Someone was calling my name.

Am I… in the afterlife?

The voice didn’t sound familiar.

Who…?

Then—

“Roizen!”

The voice shouted sharply, and I jolted awake.

“Focus!”

“—Huh?”

A sword came crashing down toward my head.

A training sword?!

It wasn’t a real blade—just a blunt practice sword.

Still—gotta block it!

I tried to draw my sword instinctively, but—

Too fast!

No—
It’s not fast. I’m slow.

I could see the blade clearly, but my body wouldn’t respond in time.

I hadn’t even touched my sword hilt when—

Thunk!

The blade stopped just short, lightly bonking my head.

It still hurt like hell.

“Ggh!”

I clutched my head and looked up.

That’s when I saw him.

…A training instructor?

He looked just like the one who trained me when I was an apprentice knight.

But that made no sense.

His face—
it was exactly how I remembered it from back then.

“Why is he here…? And where am I?”

I looked around.

And froze.

“…The training grounds?”

The same training field that vanished over ten years ago during the Dungeonization.

“What the hell…?”

Something was very, very wrong.