Who Designed This Underworld Dungeon?

But no matter how chaotic their day-to-day behavior got, all demons knew one thing: in the end, you listened to your own boss.

Shark was uncharacteristically silent at the tribal council, and only when all his clansmen turned their eyes on him did he snap back to his senses.

This was a situation where making a decision was really hard—his hands were tied front and back by a pile of problems—but if he showed weakness now, or looked hesitant and indecisive, then this bunch of subordinates who currently looked loyal as hell would probably sprout second thoughts on the spot.

So he hardened his gaze and said:

"Right now, we don’t do anything."

He didn’t give any explanation, and the demons around him, hearing his answer, didn’t press him for why. Instead, they agreed in rare unanimity.

In their minds, if Shark was this decisive, then he couldn’t be wrong. We’re thinking this must be a good thing!

As for Shark himself, he had already run through countless scenarios in his head.

Fighting was absolutely off the table. No matter what, they absolutely could not fight Dorian right now; there was just no way they could beat him.

Yes, this was the tail end of the beast tide, but there would still be Demon Beasts attacking. Since Dorian was currently playing the role of Guardian of the Deep Sea Tribe, Shark decided to just go along with it for now and let him keep guarding the Deep Sea Tribe.

The High Priest Onora was definitely going to settle accounts with him later. When the time came to reckon with Dorian, Shark would backstab him and wash his hands of the whole thing, and that way he’d get to freeload off Dorian’s protection.

Perfect!

"So, these days, whatever Dorian tells us to do, we just obey. Don’t piss him off."

He carefully reminded his clansmen, and burped mid-sentence, still bloated from the roast meat he’d just overstuffed himself with.

A faint flicker of firelight appeared in his eyes.

Out on watch, Dorian heard every word of their little conversation...clear as day.

"To the east there’s a tribe even smaller than this one. Further northeast, there’s a vassal of a large tribe. Further north there’s a Dungeon. I need to take all three of those places as fast as possible...before that woman makes a move, I’m striking first."

That night, perched on the cliff edge, Dorian wrote his ambition into the dark.

"May Chaos fill the world~"

————————————

"This is a once-in-a-millennium opportunity."

Onora sat straight-backed upon a throne built from Demon Dragon bones, looking down at the hurried figures of demons in the great city before her, and murmured softly to herself.

The Demon Dragon that had carried her here was lying at her feet, the massive beast now behaving like a well-behaved pet. Beside her stood a host of other tamed Demon Beasts, their presence wrapping her in a thick, feral aura.

The Priests who had been rescued were busy dealing with all sorts of affairs, while she, as High Priest, did not need to rush about like they did; her main role was to stabilize the overall situation.

Right now, they were in a city-state formed from a major northern tribe on this continent. The "Dark Swallowing Tribe" that ruled here were Onora’s loyal followers; whatever she did here would receive full support.

This was the closest halfway-decent city-state to the Great Demon City. Further north, even demons rarely went—out in those backwater regions, there was only the Segurod Castle Demon King Country.

Thinking of the Segurod Castle Demon King Country, Onora suddenly remembered—there was supposed to be a Dungeon over there she herself had declared off-limits. What was that Dungeon called again...

Seemed it was called the Twilight Dungeon?

"High Priest, Lord Priest, Priest Ulysses has arrived."

Just then, a messenger walked over carefully to report. With Onora’s permission, a dark-skinned demon girl dressed in a Priest Robe approached.

Insect traits dominated her body, though she still roughly kept a humanoid form. Her mouthparts trembled as she spoke in a naturally autotuned voice:

"Lady Onora, letters from all over have arrived. They’re terrified and anxious. What should we do now—reassure them as usual?"

Worth noting, even though Ulysses’s head looked like a mantis’s, she still wore a gauzy blindfold over her eyes, the style similar to Onora’s own.

"Just like usual. Soothe this flock of startled lambs."

"Yes."

Ulysses was just about to turn and leave, when a voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Wait. Come here, Ulysses."

She hesitated slightly, then obediently stepped to Onora’s side, submissive to the core.

Onora studied the girl, smiling benignly as she asked, "What do you think of the current situation?"

Think of what?

Knowing Onora’s temperament all too well, Ulysses shook her head and said nothing. As expected, seeing that reaction, Onora took the initiative and continued:

"As I thought—the so-called Demon King Bloodline is still too weak."

For any demon, saying this was basically high treason, because the Demon King was their god, and the Demon King Bloodline was divine blood. Her words were outright blasphemy!

But Ulysses reacted as though she’d long since gotten used to such talk. She didn’t bat an eye.

"The so-called Great Demon Tree the first Demon King watered with his own blood was burned completely to ash by a casual bonfire. The Demon King Bloodline recognized by over half the city-states died miserably at the hands of a human Sword Saint. Even the Demon King Bloodline heirs I personally groomed can’t be called powerful."

"Honestly, even the Demon King himself has died over and over in the hands of Heroes. How could some descendants with a trace of Demon King blood in their veins possibly surpass their ancestor? The Demon King himself is something that should’ve been weeded out by the times."

She was unloading a barrage of hot takes, and finished with:

"So, I believe the future of the Demon Clan lies in the Abyss."

Ulysses obediently nodded.

Just like always, she was playing emotional trash can for the High Priest again. At times like this, all she had to do was nod and agree.

Ulysses herself had long since chosen to follow Onora’s lead and converted to the Abyss, thereby winning Onora’s trust, and they often chatted about these forbidden topics like this.

At first she’d found it pretty thrilling, but after a while it just felt dull, because all they did was talk—they never actually did anything.

Onora gazed at the girl she so appreciated, and finally said:

"Want to do something big?"

"Eh?"

Ulysses let out a startled sound.

"My dear Ulysses, it’s time for you to take the stage."

She stroked the face covered in exoskeleton, the corners of her mouth slowly lifting.

On the fifth day after the Great Demon Tree burned, the long-missing High Priest Onora reappeared.

She swiftly pinned the blame for the burning of the Great Demon Tree on Dorian and declared his sin beyond forgiveness.

She then immediately consolidated forces from every quarter and formed a tree-rescue army to save the Great Demon Tree, shipping in every resource she could mobilize, determined to save it at any cost.

Among these efforts were some rather unconventional Thunderbolt methods, which caused no small number of casualties—but that only fit the public’s perception of her nature, and the demons pinned their hopes on her.

However, as time went on, the Great Demon Tree gradually burned away to nothing. The Alliance of tribes and city-states began to lose faith in her, and voices arose pushing the blame onto her instead.

But at that moment—

Priest Ulysses announced that she was leading a powerful, mysterious legion in a surprise attack on the Alliance, and in a lightning strike she turned an entire city-state into scorched earth. The slaughter shocked the whole continent.

Standing atop a mountain of demon corpses, she proclaimed the reform that would begin today.

"I am an Angel Envoy of the Abyss. I will let the Abyss..."

"Fill the world!"

With former Priest Ulysses as their leader, the unit the demons came to call the Abyss Legion went on a killing spree among the city-states, leaving behind everywhere they passed a flow of black sludge that could not be dispelled.

Not long after, on the scorched earth before the Great Demon City, High Priest Onora regrouped the wounded tribes and formed an Alliance, declaring a crusade against the Abyss Legion.

A day later, traces of Mad Fire appeared in several towns in the southwest of the continent.

Over these same days, the stars in the sky flickered with a strangely lurid Starlight.

The Demon Continent instantly devolved into one giant clusterfuck of a battlefield.

"Hmm?"

Sain Dungeon, inside the City Lord’s chambers.

Gong Qiying stared at the ever-blinking messages on the City Lord Panel. His muttering sounded both puzzled and as though he’d half expected this:

"The Faith that Mad Fire’s receiving suddenly shot up."

"Now that is a very good omen."

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