Hanging from a spear did not seem like the most comfortable thing in the world, but surprisingly, it was even safer than his previous shelter: no golems that looked like magma mountains, no malicious systems, no enemies.
Just him hanging there, and a pair of armed dwarves carrying him along with furrowed brows.
Perhaps this was the true meaning of life: simply hanging from a spear and contemplating the beauty of hell.
—Grum-han thap thum! —the dwarf spoke in a firm voice.
—I don't understand you, brother.
They had tried to communicate with him in vain. He couldn't understand them, and they couldn't understand him; they were at a dead end. Besides, he no longer had the system to tell him what he should do.
He sighed.
The journey was not long. They returned through the same cave as before, passing by his shelter, trampled by dwarves and burned by the titans' lava. A truly pitiful sight.
Crossing the lake was not easy either, but somehow they managed.
—Where are you taking me?
There was no response.
The dwarves marched with steady steps. As they went deeper inside, he saw a few dwarves mining the walls. They greeted the group, and the escorts stopped for a moment, setting him down in a corner.
—Hello? I'm still here!
No one answered.
—...
At last, they deigned to continue.
Further ahead was an entrance that looked hidden at first glance. Froggy stared in surprise: behind that entrance was a city.
It had small houses, and some larger ones.
As they walked, something especially caught his attention: almost all the dwarves were armed. There were no children, only the occasional female dwarf… or woman? It was strange.
From the houses, they cast disapproving looks at him, some even shutting their windows.
—Nothing to see here. Carry on with your lives —said Froggy.
They took him to a jail cell, untied him, and threw him inside.
It was truly simple: a set of bars and a dirt floor.
Chains hung from the ceiling, as if they were some sort of macabre decoration.
Froggy got up and grabbed two bars, trying to squeeze his face through them.
—Don't leave me here! I'm one of the good guys!
They did not listen. They went upstairs and left him there with only a single torch dimly lighting the place.
—FINE! YOUR LOSS! YOU HEAR ME?! YOUR LOSS!
Now that he was free of threats, he began inspecting the prison: a miserable dirt floor and bars far too new to break.
—My shelter was better.
But then his eyes fixed on something he had overlooked.
—A bed!
It was… it truly was… A BED!
He threw himself straight onto it.
It was not comfortable and it itched a little, being made of straw, but it was far, far better than the burning ground from before. It was also somewhat small, more like a giant pillow than a bed.
—I lied… you are without a doubt better.
As he curled up on his new bed, he heard a sound, like a whisper.
Shh…
—?
Shh…
—Hey…
At last he heard a voice he understood.
—Who are you?
He stood up and took a guard stance, pointing his knife outward.
—I'm in the next cell.
He tried unsuccessfully to stick his head out through the bars to see him, but only managed to get stuck, spotting a hand reaching out from the other cell.
—I see you. Who are you?
—My name is Star. Who are you?
Froggy thought for a moment, then answered:
—I am Green Froggy, a hero from another world.
A loud laugh rang out, echoing through the whole place.
—You? A hero?
The laughter continued.
—What's so funny about that? —he asked seriously.
—Do you really know what that means? —asked Star, barely holding back his laughter.
—No?
—I see… better that way.
—I've had one companion who was confusing, but you're even worse.
A sigh was heard.
—You're the only company I've had in a long time.
—How did you end up here?
—Are you a hero?
—I am. You still haven't answered my question.
—As you may have noticed, I understand your language. I'm a translator, someone with the ability to understand all kinds of tongues. Let's just say I annoyed a few dwarves, and they didn't appreciate it very much.
—Makes sense —Froggy replied.
—What is a hero doing in this place?
—Let's just say that… perhaps… I robbed a dwarf.
—Robbed? Why would a hero need to do that?
—Necessity, brother.
—Don't you have a guide? It should give you rewards.
—The system? It's not very useful… WAIT! How do you know about the system? Are you also…?
—No, not at all. I'm not a hero.
—Then how…?
—I've met other heroes. But what you're saying sounds strange. I've never heard of a guide being useless.
—Wait, wait… you're telling me… there are other heroes?
—They're on the surface, doing missions, helping in battles, that sort of thing. They're arrogant and usually always looking out for themselves.
—B-but there's only one chosen hero… the system—
—Chosen hero? What the hell are you talking about? There are hundreds, maybe thousands of heroes up there.
Froggy began to process what that meant.
—T-there has to be some mistake. There's only one hero.
Star answered almost in a whisper:
—Maybe there was one… but that was a long time ago.
—I don't understand… I'm supposed to be the hero.
—Welcome to hell, friend —Star replied wearily.
—E-even so, I need to know where we are.
—Umm… in a dungeon? There are many like this in the world.
Suddenly, everything began to make sense to him: why there had been no villagers, no trees, no friendly NPCs.
He was trapped in a dungeon.
A sudden urge to laugh came over him.
—A dungeon…
—Correct.
—One more thing… is there a demon lord?
He had to confirm it. After all, that was the reason the system had brought him here.
Star fell silent.
—Star?
—...
—Are you still there?
—If there's a demon lord? Let's just say the world went to hell because of that bastard. The surface—which is far, far above this place, outside the dungeon—is partially occupied by his forces.
Froggy swallowed.
—Then we'll have to defeat him.
—Good luck trying. Heroes stronger than you have perished, and they at least had underwear as armor.
—Ha! That demon lord will be lucky if facing me only leaves him with a couple bruises.
Star did not answer, but he knew.
No one in the world could stand against that being—not the confederation, not the heroes.
Much less a hero in underwear claiming he could defeat a divine creature.
The world was truly doomed.
The dwarf Swar worked diligently, walking with firm steps toward the barracks door, where his chief awaited him after an incident that had occurred in the dungeon.
Swar opened the door. His chief was seated inside.
He was an old dwarf, with a long beard and a scar covering half his face.
—Sir —Swar greeted with a salute.
—Any news? —replied the dwarf chief.
—We have captured the creature sighted a few hours ago, sir. It appears human, but its essence is evil. It is, without the slightest doubt, a spy from the demonic army.
—So far from the front?
—Perhaps it emerged from the lands of the demons, digging its way to the surface. It is becoming more common in certain dungeons.
The chief stroked his beard.
—If that is the case, we must take measures. Patrol the outer zones. Any sign of an army or spies must be reported immediately.
—Understood!
The chief remained thoughtful.
They needed to mine faster, gather more runes… more resources.
But time was running out.
He had to think of something…
—Ah… and Swar.
—Yes, sir?
—Bring me that prisoner for interrogation.