As Stella's corpse vanished, the body of the Crucible Knight crumbled into ash and smoke.
Wade appeared on the spot, slipping in through teleportation authority.
"She got split clean in half, yet the teleport crystal still managed to take both halves with it? That's some next-level magic." He exhaled, equal parts amused and impressed.
At first, he had considered letting Stella go. But then he thought—what if something slipped and gave him away? The Crucible Knight had just slaughtered every demon in sight. Why would he suddenly spare her? That alone would invite suspicion of an outside hand.
Sure, most people would never even imagine someone was pulling the strings behind the dungeon. Still, it was always safer to plan for the worst.
He raised a hand, and a few undead crawled forth at his command, shuffling to gather up the demons' corpses.
"This makes twice now…"
Wade crouched among the mangled remains, pale wisps of essence rising from the bodies, drifting into him like smoke.
His undead vessel could absorb lingering life force from corpses to grow stronger. Demonic essence, however, was far richer—worth several times more than that of other races of the same level. For the undead, it was like drinking the finest tonic.
A single harvest like this equaled dozens of Mana points spent on upgrades.
But that wasn't why he had come here.
This marked the second demon incursion into the dungeon—and this time, they had even embedded themselves in adventurer parties before unleashing their slaughter.
Twice now. Who was to say there wouldn't be a third, a fourth, or more?
That much was undeniable: demons were hiding in Bedford City, disguised as humans.
But… were they really disguises?
Was it possible these demons had once been human before transforming?
Otherwise, how else had demon-detection magic failed?
No, there had to be a mastermind pulling the strings. And if Wade could capture that person, he'd get his answers.
His excursions outside had given him one critical advantage: freedom to gather intelligence. That was how he had even learned about demon-detection magic in the first place.
And when it came to the mastermind, one name lingered in his thoughts.
Taimda.
The person that sells the store from. A confirmed member of the anti-dungeon organization—one with a fairly high rank.
The man had been on the run for years, his whereabouts a mystery.
But Morgan and his two subordinates—the ones who had turned into demons—were all part of that same organization, closely tied to Taimda. And when the demon incident broke out, Taimda had been the first to disappear.
That couldn't be coincidence.
"He must know something…" Wade muttered. "If only I could catch him."
But how?
The simplest way would be to capture a demon and interrogate it. Yet demons' minds broke upon transformation; all they could do was howl.
Unless—
Catch them before they turned.
His crystal orb still held playback of the battlefield. He rewound the sequence to the moment the demons first revealed themselves, watching carefully. While still in human form, the infiltrators spoke, thought, and acted with perfect clarity.
If he could intercept them before they changed—capture them alive—then they could be made to talk.
Of course, this would be absurdly difficult. He didn't know who among the adventurers would transform, nor whether the process could even be interrupted.
Still—
"Heh…" Wade chuckled, lips curling. "The harder, the better."
He enjoyed testing limits, whether his own or others'. The back-and-forth was what made it interesting.
And the demons? They had just earned his undivided attention.
One of the undead shuffled over, dragging a body behind it. Wade glanced down. An adventurer's corpse.
These poor souls had been butchered by demons, their deaths grotesque. Reviving them would take immense effort.
Wait—why hadn't they been teleported out?
He frowned, sifting through the corpses until he found a teleport crystal. Untouched, yet inert.
The normally pure-white gem was smeared with blood carrying a foul, evil aura—the same corruption that clung to the demons. The taint had devoured the magic sealed inside, rendering the crystal useless.
"Heh…"
Understanding dawned, and Wade let out a soft, incredulous laugh.
The demons had cut off people's escape route.
Well then. This was war.
They had just made themselves his mortal enemies.
(***)
Stella awoke in the Resurrection House, her head pounding with unbearable pain.
Not physical pain—something deeper, gnawing at the core of her spirit.
It was exhaustion so profound it felt like she had labored seven days and nights without rest, a fatigue so crushing she thought she might simply collapse and vanish.
"This feeling again…"
The agony was so overwhelming she couldn't even bring herself to think about the Knight.
Slain by him, she had returned to her world—only to be struck down once more, ambushed while weak and defenseless, dragged back to the Resurrection House again.
Ever since becoming a Warrior of Sunlight, she had been summoned five or six times a day as an assistant—sometimes over ten. Wins and losses were evenly split.
Inside the dungeon, she barely noticed the toll. But once she returned, the fatigue hit her like a drowning tide.
What was happening to her?
Was this the hidden cost of serving as an assistant?
Even sitting up drained nearly all her strength. She nearly toppled from the bed, but a nun spotted her struggle and hurried over, casting healing magic.
A soft green glow enveloped Stella, easing the pain slightly.
"Miss Stella, please rest. Don't force yourself to move," the nun said gently. "Your body is still recovering—you're very weak."
"You… know me?"
Stella studied her face. She was sure they had never met.
"You don't know me, but I know you."
The nun's serene smile warmed the air. "Word of your deeds in the dungeon has spread. Everyone says you're a person of great virtue. Those you've helped have been telling others about you."
"…Really?"
Stella felt her cheeks warm. She had only helped others for her own gain. Yet to them, it had become an act of selfless service.
It was… a strange feeling.
"I've rested enough. I should go home. How much will this resurrection cost me?" she asked, forcing herself upright.
"No charge." The nun shook her head.
Stella blinked. "Why not?"
"Because someone already paid for you."
"My companions? Ugh… if they know I died again, that's humiliating." She sighed.
But the nun shook her head again, her gentle smile never fading, her eyes shining with quiet pride.
"It wasn't your companions. It was those you helped. You may not remember them, but when they heard you were here, they rushed to cover the fee."
The nun placed her hand on the door handle, though she didn't open it yet. Instead, she winked playfully.
"They're waiting outside to thank you. Want to go see them? Just… fix your hair first—it's a little messy. Doesn't suit a hero."
Stella froze, caught between disbelief and something warmer she couldn't name.
So… people really did remember the sun.