When I killed Valmonk and Wilhelm, the guilt I felt was fleeting.
The undeniable truth was that they tried to kill me first.

Now, even that sliver of guilt didn’t exist.
Was it because this opponent wasn’t human?
Was it because I held Charlotte in higher regard than I’d realized?
Or was it because I deemed this opponent weaker than me?

Whatever the reason, I had no regrets about the choices I’d already made. I had no desire to take them back.

“This human is the lieutenant of the Abyssal 7th Palace, the Faithful Mausoleum. Whether intentional or not, harming her is a crime deserving death. Let me ask you—did you truly not know?”
“I… I didn’t know!”
“So, you’re saying my lieutenant didn’t inform you, Charlotte?”
“Your Majesty! That… that’s…”

Gergore hastily interrupted her.
But whatever he was about to say died in his throat.

“She… she did inform me.”
“And yet, why?”

So, he knew—and still pulled this stunt.

“I’m sorry. I thought she was lying…”
“I’m not here to hear your apologies, Gergore. What do you propose as your punishment for this insult?”
“I’ve committed a grave sin! Please, Your Majesty, take my life!”
“As you wish.”
“...!?“

I pressed my foot against Gergore’s head and raised the Holy Sword high.
His entire body shook as he clutched my ankle with the only limb he had left.
The pitiful sight of him writhing reminded me of a worm squirming in the dirt.

“Your Majesty! Please spare me!”

I ignored Gergore’s pathetic pleas and shifted my gaze to the crowd gathering around us.
Their faces were alight with morbid excitement.
These were children of the Demon Realm, after all. Blood and torn flesh were a spectacle for them.

And when the victim was one of the 72 Lords, the entertainment value doubled.

With so many eyes watching, it was inevitable that word would spread in less than a day.
This situation was a perfect opportunity to assert my authority.
Gergore would serve his role as a sacrifice.

“Hear me! The 21st-ranked Lord, Gergore, has dared to harm the lieutenant of the Abyssal 7th Palace. Such a crime warrants death!”
“Aaaaah! Please! Aaaargh! Please, Your Majesty! Spare me! I promise—I’ll never do it again! Please, have mercy!”
“I shall personally execute this criminal.”

The ground beneath him was soaked with his tears, saliva, and blood.
It was hard to tell if his noises were pleas for mercy or the cries of a dying animal.

I didn’t feel an ounce of pity.
Gergore, your death will have meaning. Don’t resent it.

The tip of my sword fell.
With a clean, resistance-free stroke, his head was severed as easily as cutting tofu.
The beastly cries ended with a single sharp gasp.

A heavy silence filled the air, thick with the intoxication of the crowd’s excitement.
Hundreds of unblinking eyes were fixed solely on me.
In this wide-open square, the boss of the Abyssal 7th Palace had executed the 21st-ranked boss.

In a way, I was responsible for satisfying their dopamine cravings.

Holding up the severed head, I slowly turned my body to face all directions.
Though the blood dripping from it disgusted me, none of that showed on my face.

“The show’s over. Get lost, all of you.”

I lowered the head and raised my other sword.

“L-let’s go!”
“Time’s already up…!”

The crowd, which had been rooted in place, quickly dispersed.

Soon, only three of us remained, and it was Balutak who broke the silence.

“Krikrik. Chief, that was impressive! Balutak’s insides feel all warmed up.”

Balutak’s thoughtless cheer was easy to ignore.
When I glanced at Charlotte, her expression betrayed a complicated mixture of emotions.

Approaching me, Charlotte hesitated, her lips trembling slightly.

“This… should not have happened.”

As expected, that was what she’d say.

“I respect and support every decision you make, Boss. But this decision… I can’t understand it.”
“Then let me ask you—why did you just stand there and take it?”

The fact that the lieutenant of the Abyssal 7th Palace was struck by the 21st-ranked Lord was a significant political and reputational blow.
Had she simply endured it, my standing at the Assembly would have plummeted.
I knew Charlotte understood this.

My words, and the reproach in my gaze, caused her to lower her head in shame.

“I apologize. I was overthinking, trying to find the best solution, and ended up ruining everything.”
“Charlotte, you’re the lieutenant of the Abyssal 7th Palace. Even if you had killed that bastard, the consequences wouldn’t have been as severe as you think.”
“While it’s entirely justifiable for you to execute him, Boss…”

Trailing off, Charlotte seemed unsure how to phrase her next thought.

“Gergore was part of the faction led by the 8th-ranked boss. By executing him, you’ve effectively made an enemy of that entire faction.”

Her reasoning suddenly made sense.

As she’d pointed out, the faction’s power wasn’t about individual rankings or the Abyssal Palace’s authority.
Even for the Abyssal 7th Palace, antagonizing a faction carried immense risks.

Political maneuvering from such groups could quietly isolate an individual without a single sound.

At this point, I’d only formed a temporary alliance with Rozesha.
Expecting her to step in and help with this mess would be naive.
If I were Rozesha, I’d avoid such a burden as well.

“The timing is also bad. This incident could be used as leverage against you during tomorrow’s Assembly.”
“And if I had spared him? What would that have done to my dignity?”
“You didn’t have to kill him. Severing his limbs would have been enough.”

Not only had I executed a faction-aligned boss, but the Assembly was also mere hours away.
On the surface, it seemed like misfortune upon misfortune.

“Is this really the worst-case scenario?”

Attention was already on me, and now I’d executed the 21st-ranked boss.
Whether the outcome was positive or negative, the ripples would be massive.

Even so, I had no regrets. I believed my choice was not a mistake.

“This could actually work in my favor.”

This incident wasn’t just a weakness—it was a double-edged sword.

I had already decided to make my presence known.
Executing Gergore had solidified the perception of me among the bosses.
Whether this event would be a mark of infamy or a source of strength at the Assembly depended on how I handled it.

“You could have shown mercy, delivered a harsh punishment, and earned respect for your magnanimity.”
“Mercy, huh. That doesn’t suit the Abyssal 7th Palace at all.”

Compassion, pity, and mercy would only erode the prestige of the Abyssal Palace.

The Empire, the Demon Realm, and the 72 Lords viewed the Abyssal 7th Palace as a symbol of overwhelming, mysterious terror.

“Mercy is a sign of weakness. And weakness is no different from being a lesser creature.”

As the ruler of the Abyssal 7th Palace, I had no need for such weakness.

Charlotte fell silent, her fingers fidgeting absentmindedly.
I exhaled a cold breath that felt more like a sigh.

“I understand everything you’re saying. But your actions disappointed me. You failed to act as a proper lieutenant.”
“I apologize.”

Beneath her expressionless face, I could sense her lingering gloom.
She must’ve been the most shaken by this incident. Perhaps she needed a bit of reassurance.

“Next time something like this happens, kill them. I’ll take full responsibility.”
“...Thank you.”
“And Charlotte, be honest.”

I gestured toward the remains of what used to be Gergore.

“Didn’t it feel satisfying?”

Charlotte stared blankly before turning her gaze to Gergore.
Then, she lowered her head, and a faint smile tugged at her lips.

“...Honestly, it was cathartic.”

I knew it.

“Then that’s all that matters.”

***

After spending the night at the finest inn managed by the Dungeon Merchants Association, dawn finally arrived.

As night fell, we boarded a carriage arranged by the Association. Its destination: the grand palace hall in the heart of Sanjiva.
This hall served many purposes—it was a banquet venue, a ballroom, an auction house, and most importantly, the Assembly Hall.

“W-we’re departing now.”

The coachman’s level indicator gleamed ominously in black, the color of fear.
It seemed the events of yesterday had spread far, not just within the Abyssal 7th Palace.

The clatter of hooves echoed smoothly as the carriage rolled forward.
Despite the long journey, the seats were so comfortable that neither my back nor legs ached.
Apparently, the Association had arranged this carriage as a special courtesy to the Abyssal 7th Palace. Its luxurious interior and smooth ride certainly lived up to that claim.

As befitting a Death Knight, the four horses pulling the carriage were all skeletal steeds.
They were high-quality breeds, comparable to Golgoli himself. Speaking of which, the thought of Hellbok naturally crossed my mind.

“I hope Hellbok’s doing well.”

I had left Hellbok at the inn, entrusting him to the innkeeper, who had sworn to protect my "pet" with their life.

“Krikrik. The wind feels great. Feels like home,” Balutak said, sticking his head out of the window like an excitable child.
Charlotte had specifically instructed him to behave during the Assembly, but who knew if he’d actually listen?

‘To be honest, I’m more worried about myself.’

After exhausting my mental faculties all day, my mind felt heavy.
I had simulated countless worst-case scenarios and prepared responses to each.

Thanks to being undead and not needing sleep, my mind was brimming with strategies.
Still, no matter how much planning I did, it was impossible to account for everything that might happen.
Yet, doing nothing was not an option.

How I conducted myself going forward would determine whether I lived or died.
I took a deep, icy breath to steel my resolve.

“Whew… I’m nervous.”

Charlotte’s voice broke the silence, echoing my own sentiments.
Being a human lieutenant in the Abyssal 7th Palace must weigh heavily on her shoulders.
Still, her burden couldn’t compare to mine—my very existence was at stake.

“Boss,” she said.

I met her gaze without responding, waiting for her to continue.

“May I rely on you more than ever this time? I mean, I always do, but… this time feels different.”

Truthfully, I needed her support just as much.

“Do as you wish.”
“Thank you.”

Despite the tension, a part of me was excited.
The Assembly would be an opportunity to see the other Abyssal 7th Palace bosses in person.

Among them, the most intriguing was the top-ranked Old Ones.
Even in the game, I had never seen the Old Ones' design.

In the DLC featuring Balutak, six new bosses from the Abyssal 7th Palace were introduced.
However, there had never been any mention of the Old Ones being defeated.
In fact, players couldn’t even see the Old Ones, let alone attempt to fight them.

Despite years since the game’s release, the developers had kept the Old Ones shrouded in mystery.
Players debated endlessly:
“The Old Ones don’t actually exist.”
“They’ll be revealed in an upcoming DLC.”
“There must be a hidden condition to encounter them.”

Through it all, the developers remained silent.

‘It does seem like they exist, though.’

Based on dialogue from the Abyssal 7th Palace bosses, the Old Ones didn’t appear to be a fabricated entity.
Only two bosses, the ruler of the Abyssal 10th Plane and Calandas, had claimed to have seen the Old Ones.
The former had refused to recall the memory, while the latter admitted to feeling true fear for the first time as a Lich.

‘If Calandas was that terrified, would I collapse just by looking at the Old Ones?’

Though being undead meant I wouldn’t faint, I was sure to embarrass myself in some way.
On second thought, I hoped I wouldn’t have to encounter them at all.

‘…Then again, it’s unlikely they’ll attend.’

The fact that only two had seen the Old Ones implied that they rarely, if ever, appeared at the 72 Dungeon Assemblies.

Clatter.
The carriage came to a halt.

“Your Grace, we’ve arrived.”

Before the coachman could act, Charlotte hurriedly opened the door and stepped out.
She gestured respectfully, as if escorting me.

I disembarked without a word, followed by Balutak.

The sheer size of the palace immediately overwhelmed me.
It felt larger than any imperial palace I’d seen.

While I stood there, admiring its grandeur, a figure approached.

“I greet the ruler of the 7th-ranked Abyssal Palace.”
“And who might you be?”
“I am Brion, a third-rank executive of the Dungeon Merchants Association. It is my honor to be assigned as your guide, my Lord.”

[Lv. 71]

An Orc at level 71?
Even as an Association executive, his level was staggeringly high. His tailored suit looked suffocatingly tight.

‘Another black-level figure.’

Though he hid it well, I could tell Brion was afraid of me.
The events of yesterday must have spread like wildfire. By now, even the bosses at the banquet hall likely knew.

We followed Brion up the central staircase of the palace.
A sprawling crimson carpet stretched endlessly before us, flanked by rows of blue ghostly flames.

The eerie glow of the flames didn’t illuminate the surroundings but only deepened the shadows.
Between those flames stood Death Knights, lined up in formation.

As we passed them, they moved in unison.

Schwing!
The Death Knights raised their swords in salute.

I wasn’t sure if it was a gesture of kinship or simple protocol.
Either way, I had no time to dwell on it.

“Boss, you’re the most impressive here. There’s no comparison,” Charlotte said.

Her words barely registered.
Despite lacking a heartbeat, I felt as if my nonexistent heart was pounding in my chest.

At the end of the central staircase, an enormous stone gate loomed.
Its height forced me to crane my neck just to take it all in.

Beyond this gate awaited the attention of the 72 monstrous Lords.
And I would have to endure it all without faltering.

The groundwork had been laid.
How I acted from here would shape their perception of me.

“Deep breath…”

Placing his hands on the stone gate, Brion pushed with all his might.

Thud—crrrk.
The gate opened with a resounding echo.

Standing before the fully opened gate, Brion placed a hand over his chest and bowed deeply.
With my preparations complete, I stepped forward, followed closely by Charlotte and Balutak.

“The ruler of the 7th-ranked Abyssal Palace, the Death Knight Barugor, has arrived!”

A booming voice echoed from within, its source unclear.
As if on cue, every gaze turned toward me.

In the darkness, countless eyes glowed red, orange, blue, and green, each color betraying a different emotion.

Deep black—fear.
Intense orange—wariness.
Occasionally, a faint red—hostility.
Not a single green, the mark of approval, was present.

Despite their scrutiny, I feigned composure and took my first step forward.