Clears throat.
Charlotte cleared her throat, gathering the dungeon’s key personnel. Not that there were many—just me, Charlotte, Isabella, and Balutak.

“Everyone, take a look at this.”

What Charlotte held up was a newspaper with the headline about Valmonk’s death. I had already seen it and felt nothing, but Isabella was visibly shaken. In contrast, Balutak tilted his head in confusion.

“Kirrik? What’s this?”
“It’s a newspaper.”
“A newspaper? What’s that?”
“As you can see, the Empire now considers us a threat. The death of the Hero of Faith has caused more of an impact than we anticipated.”
“W-what are we going to do?” Isabella asked in a worried tone.

Her anxiety was understandable. Retaliation seemed inevitable. Not that I regretted it—if we hadn’t killed Valmonk, we’d all be dead. No choice there.

“We’ll need to prepare defenses,” Charlotte continued. “Fortunately, the command center has yet to make any moves. While our merchant’s information isn’t perfect, it’s reliable enough to trust.”

While the Empire’s strike force prepared for an offensive, we’d have to ready our defenses. The first step was scouting for any signs of their attack. Without scouts of our own, Charlotte had already purchased intelligence from the merchant.

For now, there was no movement from the Empire’s command. That was a relief—until Charlotte’s next words caught me off guard.

“However, we can’t let our guard down. Everyone, look at this.”

Rustle, rustle.
The next page of the newspaper featured a special report on the awakening of the Holy Sword. Isabella gasped, covering her mouth, while Balutak tilted his head again as if experiencing déjà vu.

“Kirrik. What’s this now?”
“Wilhelm has awakened the Holy Sword. This could be their signal to strike. The conquest of Banquo’s Shadow began under similar circumstances. Back then, all four Heroes were in perfect condition.”

The Empire’s command relied heavily on the Four Heroes. Their involvement often determined whether the Seven Abyssal Palaces could be conquered.

“If I were one of the Empire’s decision-makers, I’d target our dungeon,” Charlotte concluded.

Wait, what?

“The timing of Valmonk’s death and the Holy Sword’s awakening is suspiciously coincidental. People might draw a connection and conclude that our dungeon is such a major threat it triggered the Holy Sword’s awakening.”

What the hell? How does that even make sense?
This was bad—really bad. Not only was I failing to spread misinformation about Callandas, but now my neck was on the chopping block.

“We need to fortify our defenses, though I admit our abilities are lacking. I can already see a future where Boss handles everything, just like with Valmonk.”

Valmonk was alone, and luck had been on our side. This time, we’d face an entire strike force. Even if we somehow destroyed their weapons, a Hero was still a Hero—ridiculously strong even without equipment.

“If it comes down to it, everyone except the Boss might need to sacrifice themselves to protect the dungeon. But... we wouldn’t stand a chance against a Hero who’s awakened the Holy Sword.”

Charlotte’s expression remained neutral, but there was an undeniable hint of defeat in her tone. I couldn’t blame her; even I understood the gravity of the situation.

A Hero with the Holy Sword wouldn’t even see this dungeon as a challenge.

“Why did I have to end up as a boss in the Seven Abyssal Palaces?”

If I could, I’d toss aside the fake title of the Abyssal Palace right now. But the world had forced this role on me, and now it was throwing yet another trial my way.

“The Boss stepping in should always be the last resort. It might be wise to form an alliance with another Abyssal Palace for backup.”

When it came to allies, only one person came to mind. Someone who had already helped me and seemed to think favorably of me.

I felt a pang of guilt at the thought of asking for help again, but survival came first. If it meant bowing down and groveling at Rosecha’s feet, so be it.

“For now, we don’t need reinforcements. If the strike force shows signs of movement, we’ll request support then.”

Charlotte didn’t need to spell it out—I was on the same page. Requesting reinforcements in advance would be an insult to our allies. We’d wait until the Empire made its move, then call for help immediately. Portals made it possible for reinforcements to arrive quickly, so there wouldn’t be a major issue.

“They might send a small but elite force first. We’ll focus on strengthening our defenses in the meantime. A week should suffice if their numbers are limited.”

A week.
Perhaps sensing my unease, Charlotte added, “Of course, the worst-case scenario could happen sooner... but I doubt it.”

“Why?”
“They have no information on this dungeon. At best, their intel is useless. To launch a proper offensive, they’ll need to send scouts first.”
“Hmm.”
“It would be reckless to deploy a Hero into an unknown dungeon. Especially since this is the new Abyssal Palace. Even if they’re the slightest bit cautious, they’d scout first.”

But if they decided to charge in recklessly with the Hero... we’d have no way to stop them. Sure, it was just a possibility, but it was the worst-case scenario.

Maybe I should swallow my pride and request permanent reinforcements as a precaution. If I begged, Rosecha might agree—she did seem oddly interested in me.

No more overthinking. It was time to act.

Charlotte summoned the demon merchant, who promptly disappeared into the castle and returned with a companion.

[Lv. 83]

Beside the merchant stood a werewolf in formal attire, bowing deeply with one hand over his chest.

“It is an honor to meet Your Eminence. I am Gerold, the Watchman of the Fifth Layer of the Castle of Resonance. Her Majesty has granted permission for an audience.”

Faced with such a powerful ally, I felt both nervous and reassured.
The Castle of Resonance had ten layers, each guarded by a watchman. If the Fifth Layer’s guardian was this strong, then the castle housed at least eight more warriors of similar caliber.

I had known this from the game, but seeing it in person hit differently.

Servants of the Night, like undead, were particularly weak against the Holy Sword, which used sunlight-based energy. But without the Holy Sword? Destroying just one Holy Sword with my enhancements could tilt the scales in our favor.

If we had two more reinforcements like Gerold, I wouldn’t be so worried.

“Let’s go,” I said.
“As you wish.”

Gerold led me through a pink portal he had arrived in. As I stepped through, I closed my eyes and silently prayed.

“Rosecha, please help me.”

*

After the boss left, the lieutenant’s room grew quiet.

Charlotte let out a heavy sigh, her gaze settling on the crystal orb.

“I should’ve given it to him…”

She realized her mistake too late.

The security crystal linked to the magical monitoring system was still here. If, by some catastrophic chance, the Hero’s strike force launched an attack while the boss was away, it would be disastrous. Without the crystal orb, the boss wouldn’t even know the dungeon was being raided.

“…No way that’s happening.”

The boss would be back within the day. There was no reason to expect an attack today. Even a week would be considered a quick response. Why would they be in such a rush to come today?

It took at least four days to travel from the capital to here, even if they managed to shave it down to two under ideal conditions.

Charlotte shook her head, trying to push away her unease.

Yes, this was just paranoia.

*

At the abandoned monastery perched halfway up the mountain, sunlight filtered through the cracked stained-glass windows, bathing an elderly man in its glow.

He wasn’t frail—just aged, a man who wore the weight of his years with dignity. His full-body armor gleamed gold, marking him as a paladin of the highest order. The pommel of his sword formed the shape of a solar cross, mirrored by the rosary hanging around his neck.

“The Solari is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit…”

This man was Wilhelm, the most sacred Hero, also known as the Great Champion of Solari—a warrior revered across the Empire. Wilhelm knelt before a small wooden statue of a goddess, his eyes closed in deep prayer.

His hands, clasped together around the rosary, pressed the sacred beads against his wrinkled forehead. He chanted ceaselessly, pouring his heart into every word of the prayer.

“Be of one mind, show compassion, love as brothers, be tenderhearted, and be humble...”

He prayed for the repose of his fallen comrade. He prayed for vengeance, too.

When the final verse left his lips, Wilhelm rose to his feet.

Shing!

The paladins flanking him drew their swords in unison.

The hands of the sun clock pointed directly to noon. The midday ritual, shining and sacred, was at its zenith.

Clang!

The first paladin’s sword clashed with Wilhelm’s Holy Sword, and in that moment, the blade emitted a brilliance even more dazzling. The light of human faith merged with the sword, amplifying its radiance.

“He burns away all evil with His divine fire,” the first paladin intoned, stepping back.

Wilhelm moved to the next paladin, their swords meeting with the same ceremonial clash.

“He is our sun and our shield.”

The combined faith of two men enhanced the Holy Sword’s glow.

“He has come as a light into the world, so that no one who believes in Him should remain in darkness.”

Three men now contributed their light to the blade, making its radiance even more brilliant.

“All who wait for the sun at dawn, your waiting is His joy.”
“The sun at its zenith is not only the healer of humanity but also its savior.”
“The sun is the light of the world. When its brilliance reflects upon the seas, it is as if oil has been poured upon them.”
“The ocean of oil is eternal; when the sunlight ignites it, how could Solari’s destiny ever find an end?”

Quiet, reverent voices recited these verses, blending with the crackling of fire as if the words themselves carried divine flame.

One by one, all the paladins completed their chants. By the end, Wilhelm’s Holy Sword shone as if it had become the sun itself. Its light was blinding, yet no one closed their eyes. To those who served Solari, even a momentary lapse would be unthinkable.

“Brave knights of the 24, today we shall strike down a new great evil!”

The paladins wore cloaks draped over their gleaming armor, disguising their radiance. The operation to conquer the reborn Abyssal Palace was shrouded in secrecy. No one in the Empire would know of their noble sacrifice.

But should they succeed, all humanity would rejoice as one.

The paladins’ gazes were fixed on the Holy Sword, their faith unshaken. The blade, awakened by divine revelation, stood as the ultimate symbol of Solari. With Wilhelm leading them, no evil—no matter how great—could instill fear in their hearts. Not even the Abyssal Palace.

Fwoom!

Wilhelm raised the Holy Sword high, its position aligning perfectly with the sun visible through the stained glass. It was as if the sword was holding the very sun itself.

“For Solari!”

Their thunderous cry echoed through the monastery, shaking its dilapidated walls.

The paladins lifted their swords skyward, the gesture reverent and resolute.

“For Solari!”
“For the Empire!”
“For Valmonk!”
“For humanity!”

The echoes of their shouts rang out across the mountain, reaching even the reborn Abyssal Palace nestled further above.

Soon, they would strike down this great evil and fulfill their vow of vengeance.