Published: January 24, 2026
â—‡
A lukewarm breeze brushed against my cheek.
The scenery before my eyes had changed from the city streets to the entrance of a dungeon overgrown with grass and trees.
"Orun, is this the place?"
Fuuka, confirming the dungeon entrance in front of us, asked.
"Yeah. They plan to bring the demonic beasts here and teleport to the Seeker’s Guild in Tsutolairu."
Just as the Amuntzarse can use the teleportation circles at each branch of the Downing Trading Company to teleport to various locations, the Cyclamen Cult also has other teleportation destinations besides the Seeker’s Guilds.
That function is carried out by the dungeon core located at the deepest part of the dungeon.
It seems not all dungeons have this, but the cult can teleport from one dungeon to another.
The teleportation circle to Tsutolairu, the destination, has already been tampered with, so they cannot teleport there from here.
However, unaware of this, they will try to teleport from here just like last time.
Previously, they teleported to a dungeon a little away from Tsutolairu—a dungeon where Gary had caused a flood—and then infiltrated the city on foot.
But this time, I have no intention of letting them teleport anywhere.
We will crush those guys—Rakshasa and the war demon—right here.
A barrier that inhibits teleportation is cast, covering the entire island.
"...We can’t let them ravage Tsutolairu. —Let’s begin, Fuuka."
"Yeah. Ready anytime."
Releasing the anger I had sealed deep inside, I drew a magic circle in the sky.
This isn’t a flashy magic circle like when we destroyed the detention center in Tsutolairu.
This is a genuine magic circle.
A magic of a scale restricted by the principles of techniques because it could even cause the collapse of this world.
Through the magic circle, I forcibly wield this magic in this world.
Well, Titania used it last time, so using it once should be fine.
Pitch-black mana converged at a single point.
The surrounding space began to distort.
“—Erebus, the dark night of the underworld!”
As I activated the magic, pitch-black mana pierced the ground from the sky.
Normally, the dungeon exists in a different space.
No matter how much you dig, you can never reach the dungeon.
But this magic connects different spaces and forcibly syncs them with this world.
Darkness assaulted the group in red robes at the lowest layer of the dungeon.
◇　◇　◇
"...This is strange."
Rakshasa Stieg Stroem muttered, holding his hand over the dungeon core.
"Hey, what are you doing? Hurry up and teleport!"
Warlord Demon Ogre shouted angrily at Stieg.
"I want to do that too, but... Tsutolairu cannot be specified as a teleportation destination."
"Huh? What are you talking about? That can’t be true!"
Demon frowned as he placed his hand over the dungeon core.
Even after some time, nothing happened.
"...Tch! What the hell is this!"
"Since there’s no flaw in this dungeon core, it’s reasonable to assume the teleportation circle at the destination has been tampered with."
"That’s too roundabout. What does that mean exactly?"
"It means Leon Conti, the Guild Master of the Southern Guild, has betrayed us."
"Betrayed us!? You gotta be kidding!"
"Well, he was always opposed to our ideology. We appointed him as the Southern Guild Master hoping he wouldn’t provoke Orun Dura or Oliver Cardiff. But it seems that backfired."
"I don’t care about that! So, we just kill all of them including that Guild Master, right?"
"You’re straightforward, aren’t you... Fine. For now, we’ll teleport to a dungeon near Tsutolairu and proceed on foot—!?"
As Stieg was planning, he suddenly looked up.
He usually looks so confident, but now all that confidence had vanished from his expression.
Darkness was breaking through the ceiling of the lowest layer, approaching Stieg and the others.
It was huge enough to cover the entire lowest layer.
"Hah!?"
Demon also noticed the darkness and cried out in surprise.
But it was already too late; everyone there was mercilessly swallowed by the darkness.
"...!?"
Stieg deployed a mana barrier around himself.