The clash of steel against flesh, the howls of wolves, the shrieks of monsters—an avenger driven by hatred facing a pitiful serial killer.
With elements like these, even a mediocre script would've drawn a crowd. But a memory stone capturing an actual battle? That was a whole different spectacle.
Of course, most of the "special effects" came courtesy of Doslepo. His constantly warping body turned grotesque flesh mutations into something that looked almost like exaggerated magical illusions.
As for Darrick's performance, it followed a simple cycle: strike once, dodge, strike again, dodge again—repeating without end.
Granted, his dodging wasn't like an undead flinging themselves into frantic combat rolls. His steps were cleaner, more controlled—something like a Yharnam hunter's sidestep. But the overall rhythm was nearly identical.
Memory stones containing this entire fight suddenly appeared all over Bedford City.
Everyone who watched them felt both horrified by Doslepo's twisted form and deeply impressed by Darrick's relentless swordplay. And once someone recognized Doslepo as the demon who had controlled the Flesh City, people began looking at Darrick with undeniable respect.
The footage spread fast—played in taverns, alleys, and every gathering place.
Some people even connected a memory stone to a magic amplifier, enlarging the projection until it sprawled across the entire night sky. Anyone who looked up could see every strike, every movement—every strand of hair—clearly.
Outside the city, Darrick stared upward. And when he saw the sky-sized version of himself tilt his head back and howl—
He felt the world collapse around him.
He didn't mind people seeing his battle. He actually thought he looked pretty cool.
But—but…
Why did his howl sound less like a wolf and more like… some off-brand cousin of a wolf species!?
If I never watched the footage, I never would've realized how embarrassing I sounded…
As he spiraled into despair, the projection version of him let out another howl—long, passionate, and echoing beautifully through the entire city.
"Pff—!"
Someone finally cracked.
In that instant, Darrick wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
More and more laughter rippled through the city. Up until now, everyone had been too absorbed in the intensity of the fight to think much about the "off" feeling they got from his howl. But once one person laughed, the dam burst.
Laughter engulfed the city like a tidal wave. Even Maru giggled. Only Darrick drowned in shame.
He squatted down and started poking the ground with a finger.
"What are you doing?" Maru asked, still laughing.
"Looking… for a hole to crawl into."
"A hole? Not happening~"
Maru's lips curled into a wicked smile. She turned toward the crowd and shouted:
"Hey everyone—your hero is right here!"
"Huh!?"
The bustling crowd turned at once, hundreds of eyes locking onto Darrick.
A bead of cold sweat slid down his cheek. He forced a stiff smile and raised his hand in greeting.
"Waaah—!"
In an instant, they surged toward him like a living tidal wave. He could dodge Doslepo's frenzied strikes, but he didn't even see these people move.
Cheers roared around him—louder than any festival.
"Handsome! Autograph! Sign my skirt—here!"
A girl tore off a strip of fabric and shoved it at him.
"Thank you for killing that demon… My brother died in Val…" someone said, wiping tears.
Darrick's mind went blank. He'd never been surrounded by this many people in his life.
Then Maru's voice echoed from within the crowd, though her figure was nowhere to be seen.
"Let's throw our hero into the air! Celebrate!"
"HUUUH—"
Before the thought could register, hands grabbed him, lifted him, and tossed him skyward. Cheers exploded across the plaza.
As he rose and fell, his expression shifted—confused → anxious → numb. Eventually, he got used to the strange sensation.
Being thrown up felt like he could touch the sky. The crowd's cheers rose and fell with every toss. It was surreal—like the world itself was moving because of him.
At the peak of a throw, his gaze drifted toward the direction of the Sein Dungeon.
That place… was where his fate had changed.
The tragedy at Val had been inevitable. Once he heard Doslepo would be there, he would've gone regardless. But if he hadn't entered the Sein Dungeon… if he hadn't inherited wolf blood… if he hadn't learned the Abyss Watchers' skills…
He would've died. His revenge would've died with him.
The Sein Dungeon had changed his destiny. That was the absolute truth.
Thank you, Sein Dungeon.
He quietly offered his gratitude. Then he wondered:
How many futures will it change from now on?
Changing the future…
That was something heavy—at least for Wade. From beginning to end, he had only one wish:
"To create more dungeons that make people happy."
Sein Dungeon — Dungeon Master's Room.
When Wade said this, the golem Kid clapped his metal palms excitedly, eyes shining.
On this festival night, Wade would've been outside celebrating if Kid hadn't called him over.
The topic was the aftermath—specifically, payment for responding to the rescue request.
On this matter, Kid was absolutely firm. He insisted on giving Wade the ownership of Val Dungeon. That way, he could finally cast off the burdens his creator left behind… and fade peacefully.
Alchemical lifeforms always had flaws. Kid's flaws were his aversion to dungeons and an innate drive toward self-destruction… just like his creator, Kirich.
Both understood that transferring Dungeon Master authority meant death. But to them, death was freedom—they welcomed it.
Being trapped forever in a dark dungeon was agony for any living being.
Unlike Wade, neither Kirich nor Kid had any method to escape. Back then, the "corpse-transference spell" didn't even exist.
Wade sometimes wondered:
If he hadn't discovered that spell and had remained trapped all this time… would he have ended up like Kirich, hating the dungeon?
Probably not. Worst case, he could shapeshift into Patches and go around kicking adventurers. There was always something entertaining to do.
Kid, however, had no such flexibility. He was determined—he simply didn't want to live anymore. But Wade still felt reluctant.
Partly out of sympathy.
Partly because Kid's knowledge was priceless.
To that, Kid replied calmly:
"You can keep my memories. They're stored in a crystal. Simply inject mana whenever you wish to view them."
…Well, that killed Wade's last excuse.
"It's rare to find someone I can actually talk to," Wade sighed.
Sure, he could chat with people outside—but it wasn't the same. Talking to another Dungeon Master felt natural.
Talking to outsiders always risked questions about his past. Then he'd have to make something up again. Exhausting.
Kid's mechanical voice carried a hint of relief.
"Don't worry, Lord Aldwin. Perhaps we will meet again."
…Are you cursing me to die too?
[You have received a Dungeon Master Authority Transfer Request from Val Dungeon. Accept?]
Wade hovered his hand over the interface, looked at Kid, and asked:
"You really won't reconsider?"
"No." Kid shook his round body. "Killing the demon that tainted Val Dungeon was my final wish. Giving this place to you is the perfect reward."
Wade said nothing more. He tapped "Accept."
[You have obtained Val Dungeon as a Sub-Dungeon]
His Dungeon Master panel updated. Next to 「Sein」, a new tab 「Val」 appeared.
A miniature model of Val Dungeon floated before him. Scarlet rot and the Aging Untouchable still rampaged inside—lively and bright red. They hadn't cleaned anything up after killing the demon.
Wade waved his hand, and the original Val Dungeon design vanished—along with every trace of rot and corruption. Even flames capable of burning worlds must obey their creator.
Then he turned toward Kid.
The golem no longer moved.
The mana circuitry powering him had collapsed, leaving only an empty shell.
But the shell still held a pale-blue crystal—Kid's memories. His final gift.
Etched faintly on its surface:
[I hope you can create dungeons that make everyone happy]
Wade pressed his lips together and carefully picked up the crystal. He ran his fingers across the cool surface.
"I hope you reincarnate into a world where you're free," he murmured. "If I crossed into this one, you can cross into another. It's not strange at all."
Just… please don't reincarnate into some nightmare world. Like Warhammer or Dead Space…
His undead heart stirred with brief sorrow—until he finished storing away Kid's remains.
Then, sitting atop his altar and holding the miniature Val Dungeon, he returned to his role:
A Dungeon Master dreaming of bringing "smiles" to people.
"Now then… how should I redesign Val Dungeon? There's so much potential."
A brand-new Val Dungeon was about to be born—ready to step onto the world's stage.