Chapter 17: I Became a Swordsman in the Middle Ages

A Suitable Dungeon (7)

Beatrice Schwarzfeder.

She was full of regret.

‘To think I misunderstood someone so kind…’

She’d half believed Cecilia to be some kind of demon herself. Now, she felt ashamed of even having thought that.

Cecilia was the kind of superior who looked after her subordinates. A true leader.

…Of course, there was one thing she still slightly—just slightly—wondered about.

Wouldn’t it have been better if she’d just cleared the dungeon instead of making a contract…?

‘No. I mustn't doubt her intentions. For now, I have to focus on clearing the dungeon.’

“Hah… I knew you lot were useless, but not this pathetic.”

Ricardo ran a hand through his hair, scoffing with disbelief.

Beatrice glanced at Riharten, who was staring him down with his sword drawn, expression deadly serious.

‘Just like Lady Cecilia said…’

— The rules apply to both parties. If the opponent doesn’t follow them, then breaking them yourself won’t trigger any penalties.

Cecilia had kindly advised them when the trainees had said they wanted to go fight Ricardo.

— You won’t win in a head-on battle. Even if you did, the casualties would be unacceptable.

The apprentice knights had sunk into despair at that. But Cecilia had smiled faintly and added—

— That doesn’t mean there’s no way to win.

“You don’t seriously think you can defeat me, do you?”

Ricardo shook his head, smiling with disbelief—just as Cecilia had predicted.

— He’ll try to intimidate you. When he does, just admit it cleanly.

“...Of course not. I’m already terrified just looking at you.”

“Ahahaha! I do love your honesty. So, tell me then, how do you intend to pay for my heart?”

— And propose a game. Demons will gladly accept. Even if they realize it’s not in their favor, they’ll still take the bait if it offers some short-term gain.

Tension gripped the room.

Would this method actually work?

It seemed insane for a demon to agree to such a game—it had nothing to gain from doing so.

But now that they’d begun, there was no turning back.

“I propose a game.”

Beatrice spoke boldly.

Ricardo blinked in surprise.

“A game?”

“Yes.”

“How fascinating. What kind of game did you have in mind?”

“…A game to determine whose heart is heavier—yours or ours.”

Ricardo frowned for a moment, confused.

“How do you even know about the scale? That’s restricted knowledge, even among demons… Ah, I see now.”

It was the Butcher—Cecilia must’ve told them.

That explained why these humans, who had once lost their fighting spirit, now came marching in of their own will.

‘Whatever tricks she used, she can’t interfere meaningfully anymore thanks to the contract.’

Ricardo smirked.

“Very well. I accept.”

The most delicious human emotion is despair.

There’s nothing sweeter than the moment a human, convinced of their victory, has it ripped away from them.

“In exchange, if I win… you all must serve in this mansion. Forever.”

Beatrice nodded calmly.

Ricardo gestured for them to follow him into the room, and he took a seat at the table.

Once Beatrice sat opposite him, Ricardo pulled out a scale from the shadows.

One side of the scale sat ominously empty, while the other flickered with dark, writhing flames.

Raising a hand slightly, Ricardo offered a twisted smile.

“This is the Scale of Hearts. A very simple tool, really. It weighs hearts. But you already know, don’t you? The ‘weight’ here isn’t just physical.”

Ricardo lightly tapped one side with his finger. The black flames on that side roared even higher.

“Each of your emotions—fear, guilt, your entire life—gets measured on this scale. A heart steeped in regret floats like a feather, while one full of courage weighs it down like iron.”

Ricardo brought his hands together with mock reverence.

“So, my opponent… is you?”

Beatrice took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yes.”

In response, a soft light glowed from her chest.

That brilliant light floated toward the opposite scale and settled upon it.

Ricardo blinked in admiration.

“What a beautiful heart.”

“…”

Beatrice didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

‘Why… why did you choose me?’

Cecilia had chosen Beatrice as the participant for this game.

She had said that Beatrice could win, but Beatrice wasn’t so sure.

Wouldn’t it have been better if Riharten took her place?

Surely, he seemed far braver than she was.

Fear she'd tried to suppress stirred in her chest, but she bit her lip and forced herself to remember Cecilia’s words:

— If you can’t trust yourself, then trust me. I’ve cleared more dungeons than anyone else in the Windsor Knight Order.

“Then… let the game begin. The winner will be whoever’s side the scale leans toward for one full minute.”

Ricardo clapped. Instantly, his heart tipped the scale downward.

— At first, the demon’s heart will always be heavier. Reversing it is relatively simple.

“Oh dear… looks like my heart’s far more valuable, wouldn’t you say?”

Tch.

Beatrice inhaled sharply and said calmly:

“I know about your corruption.”

“…Corruption?”

The scale quivered slightly.

“You’ve been deliberately manipulating this dungeon’s rating, keeping it deceptively low to lure in weaker prey, haven’t you?”

— Make the demon afraid. What they fear most is…

“What do you think your superior—the Demon King, for instance—would say if they learned about this?”

—…The Demon King. Demons are the same as us. They're just overworked employees afraid of their bosses.

“…Do you really think you can get out of here alive? Even if you do, how will you tell the Demon King?”

“It'll be difficult for us, but Cecilia? She’s different.”

Cecilia’s coaching had paid off.

The scale, which had been heavily tilted toward Ricardo, began to rise.

For the first time, clear anxiety painted Ricardo’s face.

“Well now… You’ve caught me off guard. Yes, the heart of someone who’s committed fraud does lose some of its value. But…”

Ricardo’s glare sharpened as he locked eyes with Beatrice.

“Even so, do you think a heart belonging to a human who hasn’t lived even a tenth of my lifetime could outweigh mine?”

— At this point, he’ll start getting agitated and speak informally. That’s when you remind him of the rules. Demons have to follow them too.

“You just violated the rules.”

“…!”

“If a demon can’t even uphold his own rules, then I’d say that heart’s worth less than mine.”

Ricardo’s pupils quivered.

He quickly turned toward the scale.

Creak—

The scale shifted.

Now, Beatrice’s heart weighed heavier.

One more minute to go.

“I didn’t expect to be cornered by only two lines of reasoning…”

Ricardo, visibly sweating, extended his hand.

“It’s time for cleaning. Servants—!”

— If he starts to lose, he’ll get desperate. Then, he will use some trick and probably send ghosts to attack the others. You’ll have to hold out as long as you can.

“Everyone—! Form up!”

Riharten shouted from the front as he led the formation.

“Do not let any of them get near Beatrice!”

The ghosts flooded toward the door, and the apprentice knights desperately held the line.

— In a dungeon of this moderate level, you are all more than capable of handling it. Trust your comrades, Beatrice.

A cacophony of clashing weapons and ghostly shrieks filled the air.

“Tch. So you are afraid. Even now, while your comrades fight, you sit there unable to help—can such a heart truly outweigh mine?”

Beatrice shut her eyes and repeated Cecilia’s advice in her mind like a mantra.

‘So far, everything has gone exactly as she said…’

The accuracy of her predictions was almost frightening.

Is this what it means to be the Windsor Knight?

Trust your comrades. Trust Cecilia.

Beatrice opened her eyes with renewed resolve and firm heart.

“No. I believe in my comrades.”

The scale remained completely tipped in her favor.

“……!”

‘T-This can’t be happening. Just yesterday, I could clearly feel this human’s fear. But now, I feel nothing at all!’

The demon’s attempt to exploit that fear to reduce the weight of her heart had completely failed.

‘Only 30 seconds left… I have to destroy this human’s logic somehow…!’

“Fine. I acknowledge your accusations. Yes, I did manipulate the dungeon’s rating.”

Admission.

“And as a sign of sincere apology, I now officially revise the dungeon’s difficulty.”

Correction.

Beatrice’s accusation of corruption had now been weakened.

“From now on, I will treat you all as the Dungeon Master of a ‘Hard’ level dungeon.”

— And Beatrice…

‘So it won’t be that easy after all…’

Beatrice slowly stood up.

The scale now tipped back slightly toward Ricardo, but she didn’t care.

— If you’ve done everything and he still lashes out, call me.

Beatrice clenched her fists tightly.

There must have been a contract in place, so why did Cecilia bother to say those parting words?

She hadn't spent much time with Cecilia, but one thing had become clear during their time together:

Cecilia’s words always carried meaning.

This time was no exception.

‘Cecilia can’t act because of the contract. But—'

That limitation applied only to “this current round.”

The moment the dungeon's difficulty increased, it would become a new round.

That was the conclusion Beatrice had reached. From the beginning, this was what she had aimed for.

“Cecilia! The dungeon difficulty has increased!”

Her cry rang out loud enough to reach the ceiling.

Startled, the trainee knights all turned to look at her.

“Haha… How creative, your desperation.”

But—

The scale didn’t move.

Cecilia didn’t appear either.

“Ding—”

Ricardo let out a sigh of relief and dabbed his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief.

“One minute has passed. That was close.”

Beatrice was flustered.

Was that not it?

Then... does that mean I’m going to die?

“Finally, I see fear in your eyes. How satisfying. Now, as promised, I’ll take my payment.”

Just as Ricardo's hand was moving towards Beatrice's heart—

“That’s far enough.”

A soft, beautiful, clear voice echoed through the room.

Beatrice’s face lit up.

“Dungeon difficulty level has officially increased from Moderate to Hard.”

Cecilia was walking into the room with a languid expression.

“Judged to exceed trainee knight capacity. From this point forward, Windsor Knight Cecilia will be in charge.”

Ricardo sneered.

“You don’t seriously think that just because the difficulty changed, it counts as a new round—”

Swish—!

A warm breeze brushed past Ricardo’s neck.

Instinctively, he reached to touch his throat.

But he couldn’t.

To be exact, his hands wouldn’t move.

Because his head had already been severed—

And was now held in Cecilia’s hand.

“H-How? The… the contract… It should still be in effect…”

Cecilia lifted the demon’s head slowly.

With a faint, serene smile, she gently raised a single finger to her lips—

Shhh—

Ricardo’s face turned deathly pale with overwhelming terror.

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