NoveLight ™
Click, clack. The refined sound of heels echoed through the room.
Roscha’s playful grin didn’t match the oppressive atmosphere. Just watching her approach made my earlier anxiety melt away like snow under the sun.
If I had to pick the most reliable ally in this situation, it was undoubtedly Roscha.
Her footsteps stopped, and she stood directly in front of me. Before she spoke, Drabyule and Karleon lowered themselves in a deep bow.
"Greetings to the Supreme One."
Relief washed over me, though a part of me was still baffled. I had heard that the other Abyssal Lords of the Seventh Palace rarely attended these gatherings.
Roscha licked her lips, her gaze as seductive as ever. It was so very like her to flirt in any situation.
"You should’ve told me in advance. I would’ve come with you."
She hummed a light tune, her eyes sweeping the room.
"So, what’s going on here? Doesn’t feel like a welcoming atmosphere for you."
The mood among the Lords shifted rapidly.
The weight of a single presence was unmistakable, like a leaden blanket settling over the air.
Before anyone could react, the room followed an unspoken command—every Lord bowed deeply.
Roscha, still smiling, turned her gaze to Baba Yaga.
"Hello, old hag."
"...."
"Is your back stiff, hag? You always walk like a hunched crone."
Only then did Baba Yaga bow as well, her shoulders trembling with humiliation.
"Greetings to the Supreme Lord of the Abyssal Palace."
"You’ve aged so much since I last saw you. You should take better care of yourself. Look at me—I’m a thousand years older than you and not a wrinkle in sight."
Footsteps gathered behind Roscha in the shadows, an expected sight. These were likely members of her faction.
As they stepped forward, they bowed deeply in unison.
"Greetings to the Eternal Queen of the Night."
At her slight gesture, they straightened.
The vampire Lord at the forefront spoke up.
"We did not expect you to arrive. We received no word of your coming..."
"Well, I wasn’t planning to come either," she said lightly. "But I heard Barugor was here, so I stopped by to see him. Now, what’s all this about?"
Roscha’s grin remained, but an undercurrent of sharpness laced her tone.
"From where I’m standing, it looks like you all ganged up to bury Barugor. Am I wrong?"
A heavy silence filled the room. No one dared to respond, and silence was as good as an admission.
Roscha’s smile vanished, replaced by a chilling expression.
"So, not only did none of you stand by him, but you just watched? Knowing full well what Barugor means to me?"
"...We have no excuse."
"It’s fine. I get it. You’ve never met him before today. But from now on, that won’t fly, will it? Now that I’m here, you’ll at least pretend to care, right?"
As she finished, her faction formed ranks behind her, standing behind me as well.
...This suddenly felt a lot more reassuring.
Click.
Roscha took a step back and poked Baba Yaga’s shoulder.
"I heard the news, hag. You’ve joined Eldritch, haven’t you?"
"...."
"Guess that just means we’ll be at odds from now on. Not that it’s my business who you align with."
Suddenly, my hand was raised without warning.
Roscha clasped her fingers through mine and waved my hand playfully. It caught me off guard, but fortunately, my undead face betrayed no expression.
"Explain this to me. Who do you think you are, cornering Barugor like this?"
"...."
"Do you even know who I am? Or more importantly, who he is?"
Her voice was the only sound in the silent banquet hall.
"You’re all trash who have no business messing with him. Barugor is one of us—one of the Abyssal Lords. If anyone’s going to mess with him, it’ll be me."
She punctuated her words by poking my cheek with her finger.
"...Stop it."
"Sure, darling."
I didn’t show it, but I was genuinely, deeply grateful. If not for Roscha, I’d be the one in Baba Yaga’s shoes right now.
"Still going to stay mute, hag?"
"...."
"I don’t mind killing every single one of you here. You all know me—I do whatever I want."
"T-That would provoke Lord Kalandas—"
"And?"
Roscha grabbed Baba Yaga’s seaweed-like hair and twisted it in her hand.
"Do you think I care what that skeleton does? I can kill everyone if I want to."
"...."
"Ah, it’s so pitiful. Did you really think threatening me would work? I hate looks like that. What should I do about it? Should I pluck your eyes out?"
"This is a sacred gathering, how can you—"
"I’m more sacred than this place," Roscha interrupted. "Have you forgotten? The Abyssal Palace is the origin of untouchable divinity. No rule can bind me."
An intangible force began to rise around Roscha, swirling ominously.
Baba Yaga froze in place, unable to move a single inch. Even the slight movements of her breath ceased. Her trembling hands, once shaking with fear, fell utterly still.
Though unseen, the invisible power held Baba Yaga’s entire body in place.
At first, I thought Roscha’s comment about gouging out her eyes was a joke. But then her hand moved toward Baba Yaga’s face.
"L-Lord, please!"
"This is the only way I’ll feel better. Don’t worry—I’ll leave you with one eye."
"Aaah, aaaaagh—!"
Her delicate fingers pierced the retina, twisting mercilessly. Dark red blood splattered everywhere. The squelching sound of torn flesh mingled with Baba Yaga’s screams, creating a scene of grotesque violence.
None of the Lords, myself included, could speak. We simply watched the horrifying spectacle unfold.
Squish!
Roscha finally pulled her hand back, tearing the optic nerve and veins clean from their sockets. She tossed the eyeball carelessly aside.
"Ugh, gross."
Casually extending her hand, Drabyule handed her a handkerchief.
The eyeball bounced across the floor like a rubber ball before coming to rest. The realization of what it was erased any other thoughts from my mind.
Roscha waved her hand, and the invisible force holding Baba Yaga disappeared. The troll collapsed to the floor, clutching her face as blood poured endlessly from the wound.
Even now, I could hardly believe what I had just seen. How was she going to handle the aftermath of this?
Was this how Charlotte felt when I killed Gergore? That mix of worry for the consequences but undeniable satisfaction?
"Aaaagh...!"
"Now you’re half-blind, hag. Should I take the other one too? You already didn’t see anything clearly—why else would you mess with Barugor?"
"I... I’m sorry..."
Koo-goo-goong—
The sound of the stone doors opening filled the hall. A dreadful sense of foreboding crept over me.
And, as always, my bad feeling was never wrong.
"The ruler of the Abyssal Palace’s fifth rank, the Master of the Decaying Pit where Death Breeds—Lich King Kalandas von Eldritch, has arrived!"
An ominous wave of deathly energy swept through the hall.
The lower-ranked Lords turned pale, trembling under the oppressive aura. Charlotte and Balutak held their ground, though their expressions betrayed their struggle against the suffocating presence.
From the shadows, faint glowing eyes emerged, and above them, numbers floated ominously.
[Lv. 93]
***
Estijel could only perceive the chaos unfolding before her as a surreal nightmare.
Hadn't she heard that the Abyssal Lords only attended the Round Table meetings?
And yet, here they were—Roscha, followed by Kalandas. Why were three Lords of the Abyssal Palace gathered here?
The escalating tension made her fear grow twice as strong. But upon reflection...
“Isn’t this all because of me?!”
The source of all this conflict was none other than herself, Estijel, the 72nd-ranked Lord.
It had all begun when Baba Yaga, using her as a pretext, provoked Barugor. Then Roscha had appeared and gouged out Baba Yaga’s eye, and now Kalandas had entered the scene.
Normally, Estijel would have been a distant observer, far removed from such grand events. As the lowest-ranked Lord of the 72 Dungeons, how could someone like her ever be caught up in the affairs of the Abyssal Palace?
But here she was, standing directly in the presence of the Abyssal Lords.
It felt as though she were at the eye of a storm, and the weight of the situation made her head spin.
Roscha’s oppressive aura and Kalandas’s deathly energy swirled around her, leaving Estijel paralyzed. The sheer magnitude of the situation crushed her both mentally and physically, locking her body in place.
"I just want to go home!"
She felt as though she might faint from the overwhelming pressure. In fact, fainting outright seemed preferable to enduring this.
All Estijel wanted was to escape from this situation, even if only for a single moment.
***
A ghostly breath spilled from Kalandas's mouth, spreading like mist across the floor.
As he came to stand before us, Kalandas pulled back his oppressive aura, as though granting permission for the lesser Lords to breathe again. All at once, they exhaled with audible relief.
His first glance landed on Roscha.
"It's been a while, Queen of Harlots."
"Indeed it has, King of Corpses."
The playful smirk Roscha always wore had vanished entirely. The tension between them, evident in their words and demeanor, left no doubt about their animosity.
Naturally, Kalandas's gaze shifted to me next—or rather, to the holy sword at my side. His wariness of it was obvious.
"I never thought we'd meet under these circumstances. A pity. I thought we might get along well."
"Unfortunate indeed," I replied flatly.
"Ah, I see your human lieutenant is here too."
Charlotte simply offered a curt nod, remaining silent. She had no obligation to bow to a hostile Lord from another Abyssal Palace.
"Barugor. I've heard much about you. They say you've slain not just Balmok but Wilhelm as well."
"And?"
"Thanks to you, humanity’s hopes have been halved. For that, I offer my unreserved congratulations."
I met his words with a cold stare, and Kalandas responded with a low chuckle.
"Don't be so wary. I’m merely on my way to the Round Table beneath the Abyss. I don’t intend to linger here long. However..."
His gaze shifted to Baba Yaga, who knelt clutching her bleeding eye. He watched her for a long moment.
"I can’t simply overlook this, can I?"
"It was my doing," Roscha interjected with a scoff.
"And what do you intend to do about it?"
"Repay it in kind, of course."
Thwack!
The air split sharply, followed by a piercing scream.
"Aaaaaagh!"
One of the vampire Lords from Roscha’s faction let out a cry, bending over as he clutched his eye in agony.
Just as Roscha had done to Baba Yaga, Kalandas had now inflicted the same injury on her subordinate.
A mocking grin crept across Kalandas's face, mirroring Roscha’s earlier expression.
"Now that's better."
"You..." Roscha’s voice dropped menacingly.
"What’s the matter? I simply returned the favor."
"Want me to pluck out one of your eyes?"
"Settle this at the Round Table, as is customary. It’s the only proper way to respect another Abyssal Palace."
Without waiting for a response, Kalandas turned and began walking away.
I wished he’d just leave without further provocation, but nothing ever ended so easily.
"But I wonder," Kalandas continued. "Is it wise to bring Barugor into the Scarlet Moon faction? Seems like quite the liability."
The Scarlet Moon faction—Roscha’s alliance within the Abyssal Palace.
Suddenly tying me to her faction was a bold statement, even if it was only a presumption. Whether or not I joined her faction was entirely her decision. This must’ve been Kalandas’s attempt to sow discord, rather than seek confirmation.
"Just yesterday, he killed the 21st-ranked Lord with his own hands. He has a human lieutenant, and now he’s sheltering that half-demon behind him."
At his words, Roscha glanced toward Estijel, who was still trembling behind me. Her expression turned sour.
"Do you not see? Barugor, ranked seventh, is a human sympathizer. Inviting such a heretic into your faction—what would the other Abyssal Lords think?"
It wasn’t a genuine question but a calculated attempt to provoke division. Moments ago, Kalandas had praised me for slaying two heroes, and now he was twisting the narrative to turn Roscha against me.
No matter how much the 72 Lords despised humans, I trusted Roscha wouldn’t abandon me. I had slain two heroes, and Roscha owed me a significant favor.
Her level’s deep pink hue was proof of her loyalty. There was no way she’d fall for Kalandas’s manipulative words.
"You’re mistaken. He’s not part of my faction," Roscha said nonchalantly, releasing my hand.
The emptiness in my hand made me uneasy, but what she said next made my jaw drop.
Before I could question her, she suddenly pulled me into an embrace.
"He’s not my subordinate—he’s my husband. Got a problem with that?"
...Wait, what?
The room fell into a stunned silence, every single person frozen in shock. Except for Roscha, who burst into laughter.
"He’s my husband. If I don’t support him, who will?"
"That’s... absurd," Kalandas muttered, his usually stoic face betraying a hint of disbelief.
Frankly, I was the most shocked of all. For Roscha to make such a bold claim in front of all these Lords...
"Believe it or not, I don’t care. You’re on your way to the Round Table, aren’t you? If you’re done here, get lost."
"Very well," Kalandas said, his composure returning. "Let’s continue this discussion at the Round Table. Barugor, my friend, it’s not too late to reconsider."
With that, Kalandas walked away, leaving chaos in his wake.
That lunatic had the audacity to try and recruit me after all of this. He was undoubtedly unhinged.
Only after Kalandas disappeared into the depths did the room slowly come back to life. Drabyule helped the injured vampire Lord to his feet.
"How can two skeletons be so different..."
Meanwhile, the surrounding Lords kept glancing between Roscha and me. I couldn’t ignore the uneasy atmosphere.
"Roscha. Since when am I your husband?"
"Huh? Didn’t we promise to get married? No?"
"I don’t recall such a thing."
"Right. We’re not quite there yet."
Roscha’s crescent-shaped grin returned.
"Not yet."
A chill ran down my spine. It felt as though I was a mouse trapped under the gaze of a cat.
Thankfully, it seemed the others had dismissed the claim as a joke.
"But darling," Roscha said, poking Estijel’s head. "What’s this about her?"
Estijel shook like a mouse before a lion, utterly terrified.
"You seem to be taking her side. Am I wrong?"
"She’s the 72nd-ranked Lord I’ve been keeping an eye on."
"Hmm. Care to explain?"
"She has immense potential. Though her current rank is low, I believe she’ll rise significantly soon."
Every word was the truth. Whether Roscha believed me or not was up to her.
Roscha leaned close and whispered in my ear.
"Tell me, do you like humans?"
"..."
Of course I do. My body may not be human anymore, but my heart still is.
Thankfully, Roscha was different from Kalandas in many ways. For one, she didn’t hate humans—in fact, she valued them. Succubi relied on human desire to survive, so the extinction of humanity would mean their own demise.
Roscha’s defense of humans wasn’t out of sentiment but out of necessity.
"I don’t dislike them," I replied vaguely. It was the safest answer.
Roscha’s laughter tickled my ear.
"That means I still have a chance. I look human too, don’t I?"
"...?"
Was that what this was about?
"I’m always available, you know. Anytime you’re ready."
Roscha’s fingers trailed sensually along my neck, completely unbothered by the dozens of watching eyes.
I stayed still, knowing pushing her away would only create an awkward situation.
Her gaze then shifted to Charlotte.
"You must be the human lieutenant."
"Greetings, Queen of the Night."
"Hmm. Cute, but no spark. A woman needs boldness. With a face like that, you’ll be single forever."
"...."
"And this one... an insect?"
"Krik. Greetings. I am Balutak, right hand of the Great Chieftain. Is the Queen this chieftain’s mate?"
What the hell did he just say?
He called an Abyssal Lord someone’s mate. A comment so insolent it was practically suicidal.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Karleon place a hand on the hilt of his sword. With a single nod from Roscha, Balutak would be silenced permanently.
But instead, Roscha burst into laughter, wiping tears from her eyes.
"I like you, insect. You’re amusing."
With one arm, she pulled me close, wrapping it around my waist.
"That’s right. I’m this man’s mate."
"Krik. You’re a perfect match. I’ll cheer for you."
"An insect with good taste? Thanks. I’ll crush your Great Chieftain someday—count on it."
"Krik? Crush him? What does that mean?"
"It means I’ll devour him. In a different way."
Their conversation was bizarre, but at least it ended peacefully.
If it were any other Abyssal Lord, Balutak would have lost his head. Only Roscha’s unpredictable nature spared him.
"Balutak learned a new word. I’ll use it on Buraltak."
"...What? Bur-what?"
"Buraltak. My mate."
Ah, shit. Someone shut this bug up.
For a brief moment, Roscha looked stunned—an expression I’d never seen from her before.
"Haha... You’re even worse than me."
"Krik?"
I wanted to crawl into a hole. Who brought this damn bug?