Your Majesty, Dinner Is Ready. - Chapter 165

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 165: D-Rank Dungeon – Rain-Falling Murder Mansion (4)
Whoooosh—!!
A torrential downpour was pouring down.
Weeds that had grown wild across the courtyard of the abandoned mansion swayed with apparent joy as they caught the rain, thrashing about carelessly.
Slash!
The Shower Trident cut through the rain and struck—not the Demon King, but an innocent patch of weeds instead.
The Sin: Sloth had warped the trajectory.
…….
The Slaughterer immediately opened distance before the Demon King’s fist could connect.
Four levels down, yet still respectable footwork.
The rain amplified physical ability further, sharpening reflexes even more.
“You’re improving steadily!”
Standing rigid in place, the Demon King’s voice rang out crisp and clear.
“The essence of offense and defense is this: land every strike you throw, evade every strike your opponent throws. Carve this truth into your heart and fight!”
Somewhere along the way, this had transformed from combat into something closer to practical training.
A heartwarming lesson-match playing out inside a dungeon classified as “terror.”
Crack!
The Slaughterer, advancing cautiously, took a punch to the face and stumbled backward.
The Demon King’s combat strength, which had started at an overwhelming disadvantage, had climbed to merely a significant one through steady consumption of Positive Concepts.
The Slaughterer still held the upper hand, but the gulf in experience between them was vast.
Thrusts!
The Shower Trident pierced the Demon King’s thigh.
Of course, the next moment his leg touched the ground beside him instead.
The power of Sin: Sloth at Tier 10.
Given that the “Sin” series required massive accumulation of practical usage experience to rise in tier, a tier of 10 meant the Unnamed Demon King had endured countless real battles.
Crack!
Another fist striking the masked face.
Repeated impacts had left small scratches across the Mask of Caprice.
“Huuuuh….”
The Slaughterer exhaled a long breath and began spinning the Shower Trident above his head.
Whoooosh—!!
Buoyed by the rainy weather, vast quantities of water transformed into water blades, spears, and whirlpools.
Water blades unfurled across the empty air.
The spear prepared to charge from the front.
And the whirlpool encircled the Demon King’s position, tightening slowly.
《This is clearly an attack that surpasses Tier 4 level—formidable beyond measure!》
Even I’ve never seen anything like it.
I’d never been inside the Rain-Falling Murder Mansion with an absolute powerhouse at the Unnamed Demon King’s level before.
What level could the Demon King possibly be?
‘At minimum, 10. Could he have even reached 11…?’
Spirit Rank becomes devilishly difficult to raise from Level 6 onward—the “region of suffering,” as it’s called.
Experience requirements balloon with each tier, and from Level 10 onward, further progression is practically impossible; most believe the rank doesn’t go higher at all.
《I’m eager to see the moment the Demon King reclaims his true rank!》
I look forward to it myself.
Exploration alongside someone of such absurd caliber.
At this rate, could we challenge an A-Rank dungeon if we trusted only the Demon King…?
Krraaaash—!
While I’d drifted into idle thought because the assault was so overwhelming, the water whirlpool continued tightening around the Demon King’s throat.
“Now that’s certainly impressive!”
No—it seems he’s not actually being asphyxiated….
The water blades, which had been multiplying steadily, now rained down in unison like a shower.
The water spears also surged from the front.
“Pain, no matter how much I endure it, is difficult to regard as positive.”
The Demon King fashioned a thick, enormous umbrella from Magical Energy and blocked the water blades.
Simultaneously, as he warped the spears with Sin: Sloth, the Shower Trident pierced through the water whirlpool in that moment—a strike the eye could not follow.
An attack the eye could not perceive could not be twisted by causality—a precisely aimed blow exploiting Sin: Sloth’s weakness.
“…Brilliant observation!”
The Shower Trident embedded itself in the Demon King’s ribs.
This time, he could not change the outcome.
Of course, the result of the Slaughterer being struck in return remained unchanged either.
“Everything was perfect, save for one thing.”
The Unnamed Demon King grasped the shaft of the trident that had pierced his flank and reached his hand beyond the whirlwind.
He seized the Slaughterer by the throat.
“You should have ended my life with that flawless strike. You should have aimed for the head or heart.”
The Unnamed Demon King lifted the Slaughterer by the throat and slammed him into the ground.
Not once, but twice, and then a third time.
If I’d been struck that way, surely my spine would have shattered on the first impact.
“…Ugh.”
The Slaughterer, who had seemed impervious to pain until now, let out a groan of agony.
“You harbor great wrath against this world.”
The Unnamed Demon King spoke softly, pinning the Slaughterer’s limbs so they could not move.
“A king must embrace even his flawed subjects. I shall swallow your anger in their stead.”
Shhhhhhik!
A thick, crimson aura flowed from the Slaughterer’s body and was absorbed into the Unnamed Demon King.
Sin: Wrath.
A Secret Art that accepts the wrath of others and creates Magical Beasts or weapons—a “Sin” technique.
Glug, glug, glug.
An immense volume poured forth.
“…Kraaaagh!”
Even as his wrath was being drained away, the Slaughterer continued to seethe with rage.
The Secret Art of Sin: Wrath could only extract emotion itself; it could not reforge a fundamentally wretched nature.
“First, I must remove that. How dare you wear such a thing in my presence.”
The Unnamed Demon King began to pull at the mask.
But far from coming loose, the Slaughterer’s thrashing only grew more violent.
“Your Grace, how is this to be removed?”
“It cannot be obtained until the Slaughterer is dead.”
To be precise, it is a hidden reward that can only be claimed upon fulfilling a hidden condition for slaying the Slaughterer.
Ordinarily, one must exhaust the Slaughterer so he cannot summon water, then discover the tools scattered throughout the mansion and use them to construct a trap in which to kill him.
But if a sturdy body suffered a little hardship, the head could shirk its duties without consequence—such was the illogic of the world.
“What a pity. I had hoped to speak eye to eye with a true Warrior.”
As the Unnamed Demon King shook his head in regret, the extraction of wrath came to an end.
An enormous mass of thick crimson aura coalesced in the Unnamed Demon King’s hand.
“Let us make an end of this.”
Crack-crack-crack!
The extracted “wrath” twisted and contorted, taking shape.
A spear forged from flesh.
Its skin was covered in horrible lacerations, and its veins writhed as though alive.
“Our battle was most enjoyable. Fare well.”
The Unnamed Demon King drove the spear of flesh downward.
Crack-thud!
A clean thrust straight through the heart.
The Slaughterer convulsed violently for a moment, then went limp.
Soon after, a blue Gate materialized in the center of the courtyard.
“Is it finished?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
A Rank D Dungeon.
The Rain-Falling Murder Mansion.
Cleanly cleared.
“Your Majesty, it is time to claim the spoils.”
I removed the mask from the Slaughterer’s face where it lay sprawled.
The moment the mask came free, the Slaughterer’s body twisted and transformed violently.
From an ordinary human form into that of a Fish-man, the sort that might have emerged from cosmic squid mythology.
A Fish-man—a race that dwelt primarily in waters and coastal regions.
“Ah, so a Fish-man it was.”
“Shall I recount what circumstances drove him from the sea to live among humans in a great mansion, committing murder?”
“Never mind.”
The Unnamed Demon King swept back his water-soaked hair.
“It would be nothing but a succession of sorrows. A Negative Concept—there is no need to hear it.”
Besides, the recounting of a villain’s tragic backstory was typically derided by terms such as “emotional manipulation” or “whitewashing.”
I knelt on one knee and offered up the mask I had obtained.
《Masterwork – Mask of Caprice (Incomplete)》
《When worn, it allows one to alter the shape of one’s body. Through ritualistic ceremonies or magical work, the mask can be made invisible to others’ eyes, but it remained incomplete due to… certain reasons one would rather not examine.》
Once completed, it would become an excellent tool for infiltration.
A Demon King who already possessed Secret Arts to transform his body would have no need for it, but as his servant, I still felt obliged to ask.
“Will you be taking it?”
“You shall have it, Kar, Grand Duke.”
“Thank you.”
I swiftly placed it into a Subspace.
Next, I picked up the trident.
《Masterwork – Shower Trident》
《While held, it grants control over nearby water.》
In places without water, it becomes nothing more than Poseidon cosplay equipment—a weapon with somewhat disappointing performance.
Still, it was remarkably sturdy, with the advantage that it rarely broke even under intense combat.
It had already blocked the Demon King’s fists several times without even a scratch.
“I should carry that.”
“Do you use weapons, Your Majesty?”
“Indeed I do.”
I still knew nothing about the Unnamed Demon King.
In fact, I didn’t even know his Class.
“If I may ask—what is your Class?”
The Demon King accepted the trident and examined it from various angles before answering.
“Enchanter.”
……
Enchanter.
A Mage Class that bestows magic upon tools, equipment, and bodies.
“…You are a Mage?”
No wonder he was absurdly powerful.
“I hold no identity as a Mage.”
The Demon King spun the trident with elegant flair and settled it across his shoulder.
“I am merely one Demon-type Being. The concept of ‘Mage’ cannot confine me so easily.”
“A truly admirable mindset, Your Majesty. After all, Mage is a Negative Concept.”
Being classified in an outrageously overpowered Concept made it far wiser to live simply as one Demon-type Being.
“It doesn’t seem negative to me…?”
“But it’s not positive either, is it?”
“True enough.”
“You may erase Magic—the world’s most negative Secret Art classification—from your mind entirely.”
Having offered counsel befitting a servant, I returned upside-down to where I had been hanging, ready to collect the final reward.
The room lay in complete disarray.
Only one antique painting remained unbroken, preserving its original form on the wall.
A roughly painted seascape depicting a fierce whirlwind roaring across the waters.
《Entrance to the Sea of Madness.》
《Another Dungeon entrance existed in such a place?!》
A hidden reward that could only be obtained upon defeating the Slaughterer—in essence, the very reason for exploring the Rain-Falling Murder Mansion.
Since it was a Dungeon entered by diving into the painting, it could be safely carried.
“A Dungeon entrance. What Rank is it?”
“B-Rank.”
The difficulty stood among the highest tiers of B-Rank.
Yet the rewards were nearly A-Rank level.
“Let us explore it together later, as members of the Moon Expedition Party.”
……
The Demon King gazed down at me for a moment, then smiled.
“Very well. However, I shall participate in explorations only occasionally.”
“May I ask why?”
“If I were always present, you would overcome every hardship with ease.”
A still-wet hand roughly tousled my hair.
“You have no desire for such tedious expeditions, Grand Duke Kar? I would not rob my servant of his joy. That would be contrary to what is positive.”
“Your Majesty!”
Moved by genuine sincerity, I prostrated myself on the floor.
“I, Kar, swear as your servant to faithfully cultivate Positive Concepts from this day forward!”
Grand Duke of the New Demon Realm.
I had found a lifelong position.
***
“And so the Demon King has agreed to join us.”
……
Odillon’s chambers.
The sickly young lord sipped his wine while appraising the Demon King’s flawless musculature.
Then suddenly his eyes narrowed.
“If he’s too strong, that could be a problem. My siblings might join forces and scheme against us.”
Indeed, whenever Odillon recruited an exceptionally capable explorer, his siblings invariably unleashed a relentless barrage of schemes—machinations, slander, and vicious rumors—without a single day’s respite.
“There is no concern on that front. Is there not, Demon King?”
“Of course not.”
Crack-crack-crack!
With the sound of bone and muscle twisting, the Demon King’s form transformed.
Hair that gleamed even at rest.
Pure white wings sprouted from his back.
“…A Celestial Being?”
A race that had been natural enemies to the Demon-type since ancient times.
The Demon King, now in Celestial form, gazed down at himself and spoke.
“Will this suffice? I have calibrated my Spirit Rank to approximately Level 2. To be precise, the lingering effects of the sealing ritual prevent me from raising it any higher.”
A Secret Art capable of altering both appearance and Spirit Rank at will: Lord’s Concealment.
A Tier 9 Secret Art, no less.
“That should do. But why a Celestial, of all things?”
“All the Celestial gentlemen are universally admired, are they not? And admiration is a Positive Concept.”
“…I see.”
Fastidious as Odillon was, he conceded with surprising ease.
“Demon King, what name shall you take?”
“Kar, Duke, do you have a suggestion?”
An unexpected burden of responsibility, but fortunately I had a talent for naming.
“Repicul.”
From Demon-type to Celestial.
Reverse Lucifer—so I took the English spelling and flipped it backward to get Repicul.
“What do you think?”
“Well… it’s not bad.”
The Celestial Demon King nodded lightly and gently patted my back.
“Please, do your utmost to entertain me going forward.”
The Unnamed Demon King.
Joining the Moon Expedition Party.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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