Dungeon Defense (WN)

“…….”

I rose silently from the chair.

Ivar stared at me, bewildered. I ignored her gaze and walked out of the office. My steps were unnaturally fast. The harder my heart pounded, the more urgently my body pushed me forward, and the colder my face became.

“Your Highness? Your Highness, where are you suddenly…… Prime Minister! His Highness is……!”

Ivar’s shout echoed behind me, growing distant in an instant.

My footsteps rang sharply through the ornate halls of the imperial palace. One step, then another. Step after step. I moved mechanically, like someone possessed.

A group of maids appeared ahead. Startled, they straightened their posture and bowed deeply.

“We greet the august one.”

“We greet the august one.”

One maid in particular executed her greeting with graceful precision, lifting the hem of her skirt elegantly. She knew very well how impeccably she had performed, and she took pride in that knowledge. ‘What could she possibly be so proud of?’

Watching the maids bow to me in succession, the question rose unbidden.

It was not merely the movement of their bodies. When they said ‘We greet the august one’, every tiny syllable was infused with a delicate, meticulous pride. As if offering such a greeting carried a profound significance. But what was so great about it?

The answer was obvious. Their pride lay in the role itself—being a maid.

To serve within the grand and resplendent imperial palace. To maintain the opulent palace of demonkind.

To clean it impeccably.

To preserve its beauty.

This was not an honor granted to just anyone. Only to maids—women of skill, refinement, and cultivated etiquette. That was the source of their pride.

Yet how absurd that pride looks through my eyes.

The Empire is neither great nor glorious.

It is already nonsense that a half-dead puppet sits on the throne.

They wear the mask of a human empire, but Demon Lords hold the true power. They call themselves an imperial monarchy, yet they support republicanism across the continent……. There is no coherent identity anywhere.

It is an empire, yet not an empire. A Habsburg, yet not a Habsburg. It is nothing. What in the world are the maids so proud of?

“We greet the august one.”

And am I not the same?

If the maids serve the imperial palace, then I—Dantalian—have merely served this world. Just as they perform the role of a maid, the role of Dantalian existed here for me to play. I took pride in that…….

Not a joyful pride, but a firm one. If not me, who else could have played this role? If not me, who could have reached “here”?

This is the highest of all mountain ranges, and the widest of all abysses. I am not someone who simply rises upward. Nor am I someone who simply plummets downward. I fall. And if one flips the world upside down, that fall becomes ascent.

Yes. By falling, I rise.

Among all who have fallen, who has chosen such a path? Who has ever inverted themselves for the sake of the world? Humans have only ever known how to overturn the world for their own sake.

This devotion. This sacrifice. This immersion into a role and reverence for the stage. This was me. This was Dantalian.

‘And yet how absurd is my own pride?’

My eyes narrowed.

‘The imperial palace is not impressive at all. The maids simply decorate it to make it appear impressive. The same is true of me. The world is not impressive at all. I am merely the one decorating it.’

I bit down on my lip. The taste of blood spread across my tongue.

‘Yet no one respects this world.’

That was the difference.

There were many maids who cleaned this palace. Hundreds of them. As long as the Empire endured, the palace would always be tended by hundreds of devoted hands. But this world? Who tends to the palace named “the world”?

Who will remember that Jack Aland’s death was unbearably unjust?

Who will give proper weight to the two hundred thousand lives consumed in the Crescent Alliance War?

Who will know how noble a woman Paimon truly was?

Too many people.

Far, far too many people will fade away without a sound.

If I do not do it—

If I do not shoulder everything—because I alone know that all of this is my responsibility, that I am the one who twisted history and staged it however I pleased—

If I do not do it—

“Hmm? Dantalian?”

I pushed open the reception room doors. The reception hall, where the Elector Demon Lords should have gathered, held only one occupant. Gamigin was sprawled across the sofa, half-dressed, drinking wine with reckless abandon.

“Why are you barging in like that? Don’t tell me you came for the meeting now. We already postponed it to this evening ages ago since you were late. Isn’t this your first time being late?”

“…….”

“But actually, good timing. You’ve been neglecting me far too much lately. I get that Paimon’s death was shocking, but still—watching a man cling to something for that long isn’t a flattering sight. Come on, this big sister will listen to everything. Sit, drink with me.”

Gamigin let out a tipsy grin and patted the empty spot on the sofa beside her—an invitation to come enjoy her company. I looked straight into her face and murmured inwardly:

Status window.

Nothing appeared.

Without a word, I turned on my heel and left the reception room. Behind me, Gamigin yelled:

“Dantalian? Hey, Dantalian. Dantalian! Seriously, are you doing this to me!? You know perfectly well what happens when I snap, and you still treat me like this!? If you don’t come back and apologize right now, I swear I’ll burn down Paimon’s memorial chamber! DANTALIAN!”

A loud crash rang out—she must’ve thrown a glass in a fit of rage. I ignored it and kept walking.

The next place I headed to was Sitri’s private office. Sitri was speaking with two Mountain Faction Demon Lords, the three of them deep in serious discussion. They all looked startled when I suddenly walked in—Sitri included.

“Huh? Dantalian……?”

Sitri’s gaze drifted down to my lower body, and she tilted her head. She was confused to see that my left leg looked perfectly intact. Then her eyes returned to mine, narrowing in scrutiny. Her expression tightened, as though she were confronting a mathematical paradox.

“……Yeah, it’s you. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Sitri rose from her seat, worry etched across her face. As she slowly approached, I spoke inwardly:

Status window.

Nothing appeared.

Sitri’s eyes flew open in shock. She rushed over and grabbed my hand.

“W-wait, what? What’s going on? Say something. Tell me what happened.”

I gently pushed her hand away. My own kept trembling, so even that motion had to be slow and deliberate. She reached for my arm again, but I turned around before she could touch me and left the office.

“Dantalian……?”

Her small and fragile voice faded behind me as I walked, mind in disarray.

I had no destination now. My feet simply moved on their own, pulled along by the countless thoughts flooding my mind.

Among them, one echo rang louder and deeper than all the others, reverberating through my skull. My whole body felt like the cavern that echo used to sound itself, and a single sentence repeated without end.

I was found out.

Daisy had found me out.

She had seen through the meaning of my role, the meaning of my entire stage. The play that had been meant to begin perfectly and end perfectly had collapsed. The scenario in which I took responsibility for everything and fell had been shattered.

‘If Father intends to take responsibility for the entire world, then so be it.’

‘But who, then, is taking responsibility for Father?’

Words Daisy had never once spoken to me.

Yet in my mind, I could hear her voice clearly. Cold. Unemotional. With the faintest trace of mockery woven into it.

‘If no one takes responsibility for Father.’

‘Then I must be the one who stands for you, must I not?’

What am I supposed to do?

I have to remain as Dantalian, no matter what. But now that Daisy has uncovered my identity, what can I possibly do? She keeps insisting I have done nothing wrong. But Dantalian has done everything wrong.

…….

When I finally came to my senses.

I was standing alone in the rear garden of the palace.

It was the place where Barbatos and I always sat side by side to drink. Somehow, the monster that lived in the pond sensed my presence and lifted its head above the water’s surface.

Its eel-like head turned toward me, mouth opening and closing. Barbatos had tossed snacks to it so often that it must have grown used to people. When I did nothing and simply stood there, unfazed, the creature rolled its eyes as if puzzled.

‘Look at that. I swear I have never seen a fish that ugly in my life. Dantalian, do you think that thing might be someone reincarnated? Its looks are just about on par with yours.’

‘Nonsense. I’ll have you know, I’m a man who reached this position with my face alone.’

‘Good. I’ve decided. From now on, its name is Dantalian.’

The fish snapped its mouth uselessly a few more times in the air before slipping back beneath the water.

Only the cherry blossoms shed by the trees above drifted gently across the surface of the pond.

‘Here, Dantalian. Take it. I saved this snack just for you, so eat it gratefully.’

A laugh that did not belong to this world echoed from beneath the blooming cherry tree.

Thump—

My heart tightened.

I dropped to my knees on the ground. Clutching my chest with both hands, I lowered my head. My body folded in on itself, taking up the smallest amount of space possible in this world. And without a sound, something spilled out of me.

“…….”

Little by little.

“……, …….”

Little by little.

At some point, someone wrapped their arms gently around my back. She was trembling. In truth, I could no longer tell whether it was I who was shaking or she who was shaking. All I knew was that she whispered words in my place.

“I am sorry, Lord Dantalian.”

“…….” “I am sorry…… I am so sorry…… Lord Dantalian, I am sorry. I am sorry…”

Lapis apologized endlessly. She kept saying she was sorry.

“…….”

I wanted to answer her. I wanted to tell her she had done nothing wrong, that she had done the right thing by telling me the truth. But for some reason, no voice came out.

I could not say anything.

All I could do was take her arms in mine and hold them tightly. Her trembling reached my palms. I imagined mine must have reached her just the same. And so the two of us stood there, sharing each other’s warmth.

The play could not end.

The play had merely failed.

The vast play we had planned and crafted together for eight years had, without a doubt, collapsed in this very moment. Lapis and I silently accepted our defeat together…….

***

TL Note: Thanks for reading the chapter. Seems like I was gone for a month… Oopsie. I keep telling myself after uploading a chapter that I’d up my pace again, but alas, work is a pain. Somehow, after that big fuddle last November with that shitty Nexon game, another huuuuge project came our way and they apparently liked my translation the most out of the 3 other translators who also submitted a test paper. Now I have this huge project that’ll last all year long because of how much content it has. Don’t know if I can really discuss it here, but it’s an upcoming mmorpg I think? It’s a somewhat known IP as well, our company is taking it very seriously. I’ve been spending time playing their old games and trying to take notes of every dialogue and method of speech the characters have to immerse myself in the world…

In other words, I’ve been working on overdrive. Doing over time, working weekends, trying to really put out the best quality I can muster. I was only able to work on this chapter cause I finished a batch of work and finally got to catch my breath… Well, it’s also Lunar New Year, but yeah. I’M DOING MY BEST!

(Side note: WordPress changed their UI for writing posts again and actually made it so stupid trying to use the Classic version again. This box is like 1/4 of my screen no matter how much I try to widen it. Sort of what disheartened me for a bit to translate more cause it was so annoying to look at)