Today, shocking news swept through the Great Demon City.
The youngest priest in history—also the most warlike and cold-blooded—known by titles such as "Trembling White Bones" and "Iron Hand Without Mercy," Priest Elnora, had fallen into a coma.
Rumors spread rapidly, claiming that Elnora had been scared unconscious.
Scared unconscious?
What kind of existence could possibly frighten a Grand Demon Priest?
Before the rumors could spiral any further, the Royal Court—formed by the rulers of several major tribes—forcefully suppressed them. After investigation, the source was traced back to a temple guard. Naturally, he was subjected to the highest form of execution.
The final official statement was released:
"Priest Elnora collapsed from exhaustion after prolonged, day-and-night communion with the Great Demon Tree."
No one with a functioning brain believed that.
Elnora had been unconscious for nearly half a month. How exhausted would someone have to be to sleep for that long?
Despite widespread doubt, no one dared to speak up. In the Great Demon City, there was no such thing as freedom of speech.
Inside the priestess's bedchamber.
Elnora lay quietly upon the bed. The plain long dress she wore only emphasized how slender her body was. Half a month of unconsciousness had left her complexion sickly pale, her long hair slightly disheveled. Stripped of her status, she looked like nothing more than a frail, pitiful girl.
Her hands covered her eyes, her expression twisted in discomfort. Every time she tried to open them, she felt an inexplicable resistance.
That resistance was the protection of the Great Demon Tree.
When she had probed the memories of the dead, if the Great Demon Tree had not severed the connection in time and shielded her consciousness, she would already have been reduced to an empty shell.
Fortunately, everything she saw had been echoes of the past—memories—not a true, direct gaze upon the Mystery itself.
Moreover, her mental strength had far surpassed that of ordinary demons since childhood. By the age of fifteen, it rivaled that of a High Priest. That was the only reason she survived.
Even so, when she laid eyes upon that yellow-and-black existence, her mind—and something deeper—had still been affected.
Failing once more to open her eyes, Elnora gritted her teeth, tore a strip of fabric from her skirt, and slowly wrapped it around her eyes.
The moment darkness fell, the pressure eased.
She felt much better.
"Lady Elnora, are you awake?"
Hearing movement, a maid hurried over.
"How are you feeling? I'll summon the doctor immediately."
"No," Elnora said hoarsely. "Go fetch Priest Salaman. I need to speak with him."
The maid's expression immediately became strange. She hesitated, standing in place for a long time.
Elnora couldn't see her, but hearing no footsteps, she asked,
"Why haven't you gone?"
"…Priest Salaman has passed away."
Her body stiffened.
Forcing herself to remain calm, Elnora asked,
"What happened? Was he assassinated by rebels? Or—"
"Neither," the maid replied softly. "After communing with the Great Demon Tree, Lord Salaman… fell from the temple and died."
Elnora froze. A dreadful possibility surfaced in her mind.
"Then Priest Sedum? Something this serious happened—where is she?"
"Lord Sedum fell into a coma as well after communicating with the Great Demon Tree. She has yet to awaken."
"…Kaliman?"
"He committed suicide. After communicating with the Great Demon Tree."
Elnora's mouth slowly opened into a small "O." At this moment, she couldn't even be bothered to care about her dignity—her thoughts were in complete turmoil.
You knew the Great Demon Tree was dangerous, so why were you all rushing to throw your lives away?!
"Then… the High Priest?" she finally asked, her voice trembling.
If something had happened to the High Priest too, then every Grand Demon Priest in the city would be gone.
The maid quickly answered,
"The High Priest is perfectly fine."
Elnora let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"Did she seal the Great Demon Tree and erase the memories of the two who died?"
This maid was her personal attendant. She knew everything she was meant to know.
"No."
The maid's expression grew even stranger.
"She wanted to investigate, but the Great Demon Tree erased the deceased priests' memories in advance. She even threw a tantrum over it."
"I… see."
Elnora found herself at a loss for words.
After a long pause, she weakly waved her hand.
"You may leave. I want to be alone for a while."
"But the doctor—"
"Leave."
.
..
...
When silence finally settled over the chamber, her small body began to tremble.
Her clothes slipped from her shoulders as she shook. She covered her face with both hands and murmured softly,
"What… did I actually see…?"
Beyond the flames in Doslepo's memories, there was also the bottomless darkness in Ganago's.
The instant she beheld that abyss, she lost herself completely.
Legend said the demon race originated from darkness—darkness later scattered by the gods. The Demon King was meant to return that darkness to the world.
That belief had driven her to become a priest.
Had driven her… until now.
The moment she saw the abyss, that belief shattered.
What Ganago witnessed was a true abyss—far more real than the vague, illusory darkness of legend. Deeper. More profound. More alluring to the soul.
Why cling to a myth that had never once succeeded?
Every Demon King had been defeated by heroes. None had ever truly brought darkness.
So—
"Hehehe…"
A strange chuckle escaped her lips.
Between her fingers, a grin spread nearly to her ears. Her cheeks flushed faintly.
She hadn't been trembling from fear.
She had been laughing.
Priest Elnora was laughing—and laughing like this. If anyone witnessed the scene, they would surely declare:
"Her character has completely collapsed."
She would find where Ganago had seen the abyss.
Investigate it.
Find it.
And then—
"Pay homage to it."
By sheer chance, a devoted worshipper of the abyss was born.
(***)
Meanwhile, in the Sein Dungeon.
"Red is destruction. Blue is hypocrisy. Purple is warning. Green is me."
Inside the lord's chamber, the World Color Map lay spread atop the altar. Territories of various colors shifted constantly, yet no massive changes occurred—proof that most dungeons remained stable.
Except for one green troublemaker.
"Bedford City and several surrounding cities are completely my color now."
A palm-sized region slightly left and downward from the map's center had turned entirely green—solid and unshakable. Here, Sein reigned supreme.
Beyond that, green intertwined with other colors, occasionally gnawing out small patches of foreign territory.
More astonishingly, every color contained scattered green dots.
They were spread across the entire map, glaringly obvious.
This meant the reputation of the Sein Dungeon had spread everywhere—even into other nations.
No surprise.
A dungeon that offered stat allocation and resets, magic book pages and combat weapons, ancient history and heroic legends—how could it not become famous?
Some dungeon lords undoubtedly found those green dots irritating and wanted to punch him.
Fortunately, Ganago had generously provided three months of immunity from war.
After that… who would be punching whom remained to be seen.
The dungeon flourished. Its influence expanded. Mana income rose day by day. New ideas flooded in endlessly—so many that Wade had to discard some just to keep up.
At this moment, he felt like he was standing at the happiest point in his life.
Of course, happiness never meant an absence of trouble.
The day after the Nest Dungeon was defeated, the Astar Alliance sent a new letter.
"Congratulations on your first victory. The gates of the Alliance are now open to you. I'll skip the pleasantries. As a new member, it is my duty to explain the Alliance."
"The Astar Alliance consists of twenty-one dungeons. Every lord is a pure human—at least psychologically. All foreign diplomacy is handled by my Black Guard Dungeon. Our goal is the eradication of all evil foreign races."
"Our primary targets are dungeons possessed by demon souls. Below is the list:"
A long purge list followed.
Wade skimmed it and thought dryly:
This list is longer than your membership. Are you trying to get wiped out?
Thoughtfully, each target dungeon was marked by color—otherwise he wouldn't even know where they were.
Most were on the western continent, though some were located within human lands.
Strange. Did human territory really invite demonkind to become dungeon lords?
He continued reading. The rest detailed alliance benefits—protection, assistance, and coordination—which sounded fairly legitimate.
As for responsibilities, members were expected to provide support during dungeon wars.
If you didn't want to help, you could simply withdraw.
He had initially contacted them only for intelligence. Though Kid had provided a knowledge crystal, the information was outdated.
"This alliance still has its uses—for now. And at least they talk nicely."
He set the letter aside. He would be dealing with other dungeons for a long time. No need to rush.
Today, however, there was a dungeon test he'd been waiting to run.
Recently, Wade had been using the authority A World You Cannot Leave Without Victory, abbreviated Small World, to construct something new.
At last, the alternate space was complete.
Its name was Wolf Knight, corresponding to Knight Artorias's story.
An adventurer named Darrick had already collected three fragments of the Wolf Knight Painting, but the final one stubbornly refused to drop.
He was on the verge of despair.
Because Wade had been deliberately blocking his progress.
But today—
The alternate space was ready.
Inside the Sein Dungeon, Darrick once again defeated the demi-human swordsman. His face was filled with desolation.
He no longer expected anything. The final fragment never dropped anyway.
Just then, he glanced at the reward notification—
And his eyes burst into blinding light.
[Painting Fragment "Wolf Knight" · Part Four]
He—he—
He had completed the Wolf Knight painting fragments.