Chapter 3: Meeting the Swordmaster
Three days later—
Diablo got up earlier than usual and headed to the dining hall alone. Rem and Shera were still in bed, but they’d probably wake up in half an hour or so. Assuming they’d have breakfast together, he walked up to the counter to ask Mei for a cup of coffee.
He sat in his regular spot. Those preparing to set out had breakfast before sunrise so they had time to make preparations before they left. Those intending to lodge at the inn longer slept in a bit more.
But now was neither of those times, and owing to that, the dining hall was empty. Diablo had it all to himself. With no internet, TV, or games to pass the time, all he could do was absentmindedly sip his coffee. He hardly had times like these in his other world.
“Sure is peaceful...”
The Demon Overlord amassing his forces to the west, the palace’s suspicious movements, the mysteries surrounding his own summoning... It all felt so far away.
Suddenly, the pattering of footsteps running along the staircase reached his ears, and someone barged into the dining hall.
“Diablo?!” Rem appeared, raising her voice while wearing her sleeping gown.
“Wh-What’s wrong, Rem?!” He was startled by her unbecoming state of dress.
Her gaze falling on Diablo, Rem gave a long sigh of relief and leaned against the wall in exhaustion.
“It was still early, but when I woke up and you weren’t in bed... I thought you’d gone off on your own.”
“Me, alone?”
“...You did say you’d set out again after we return to Faltra.”
He recalled their conversation in the elven country...
“Yes. For the time being, we’ll return,” Diablo told her of his plans.
“...After that, will we be heading somewhere else? Sylvie asked us to help defend Faltra, if you recall.”
“That is precisely why I must set out.”
Diablo planned to leave as early as today. His objective was to level himself up, but he didn’t know if he had to take Rem and Shera with him to do so. Going alone might help him focus and concentrate on training.
I suppose I could leave them behind...
That thought had crossed his mind, but thinking it over, Rem handled pretty much all their negotiations in regard to inns and stables. When they camped out, she was also the one who stoked the fires and cooked. Shera used any break they took to pick fruit and hunt, and was good at finding water sources too. Those weren’t factors in Cross Reverie, and Diablo didn’t have the skills to do any of those things.
Is traveling alone impossible for me?
“Hmph...” Diablo crossed his arms in a self-important manner as he leaned back against the chair’s backrest. “Going alone would speed things up. But right now I was in the mood to enjoy my morning coffee, so I took my time.”
“I’ll come with you!” Rem placed a hand over her chest, a resolved expression on her face.
That was quite fine, but...her current garments left Diablo to hold back a blush about to creep onto his cheeks. Despite him being used to seeing her like this when they went to sleep, her sleeping gown was so thin that under the dining hall’s lighting Diablo could see the contours of her body she probably would have preferred to have kept hidden from sight.
“F-Fine, I understand. Just go change out of that,” Diablo said, diverting his gaze. “What will you do if other guests show up?”
“Huh? Ah... Aaaah?!”
She was probably so surprised to find Diablo had left the bed that she rushed out forgetting how she was dressed. Her face turning red like a lobster, Rem covered her body with both her arms and rushed out of the dining hall.
“P-Please wait for me! I’ll be ready in just a moment! Just a moment, all right?!” She left her words behind as she ran up the stairs.
Her usual outfit didn’t have much more in terms of fabric-to-skin ratio, but walking around in her sleeping gown in broad daylight was embarrassing, or so Diablo thought.
†
Everyone gathered and they all had breakfast. The regular course of bread, sausages, and soup was lined up on the table. Diablo, Rem, and Shera were seated, as were Klem and Edelgard.
I suppose there’s no problem with taking Rem and Shera along, but...how do I explain my objective?
Diablo was troubled. It may have seemed trivial at first sight, but this was a major issue for his Demon Lord role playing. A Demon Lord was a final boss, with his abilities perfected and flawless. He’d just sit in his castle, waiting for the hero to level up and challenge him.
But extending to a warrior class involved great effort and hardship. He couldn’t keep acting like he had up to this point. Worst of all, asking Swordmaster Graham to teach him went against his Demon Lord attitude.
But before he could gather his thoughts, Rem began speaking.
“...Diablo, isn’t it time you told us where we’re going, and for what purpose?”
“Omomomah, nomomah~” Shera said (or attempted to say), munching on her breakfast.
“...Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Gulp! I said, right, you didn’t tell us yet!”
Shera didn’t seem awfully concerned about it though. She was never the type to think too deeply about things, and thought it was natural for them to go together no matter where they were headed.
It’d look odd to keep it hidden any longer, so Diablo started with a certain piece of information, to preserve his Demon Lord-ly dignity.
“Do you know of a swordmaster called Graham who lives on a mountain in the northern parts of the Demon Lord’s domain?”
“Swordmaster?” Shera cocked her head quizzically.
“I’ve heard of something to that effect.” Being a more proper adventurer, Rem seemed to have known about it. “Those who seek to master the path of the warrior go to a swordmaster to extend their limits.”
“Yes, the swordmaster does exist.”
“It’s not some sort of fairytale?”
“Emile seems to be under Graham’s tutelage.”
There was no guarantee it was the same as the game, but if Emile met the swordmaster, he had to have been at least level 80. He was roughly level 50 before, which meant he’d grown significantly in such a short period of time. A speed that approached the time it would take to level up that much in the game actually.
But the fact that the Swordmaster had given him the quest to “visit all the countries” meant he wasn’t ready to break the level cap. It seemed he wasn’t level 99 just yet.
Diablo intended to extend his own class to that of a warrior, and if he were to fight the Demon Overlord, he’d have to break the limit of the races and go over level 100.
Klem, who was eating in the adjacent table, widened her eyes with surprise. “Oh! So you wish to master the blade, Diablo?!”
“Ah, no...” Seeing her cut right to the point made him panic.
Grinding levels wasn’t Demon Lord-ly after all. But denying with words alone was meaningless. Pride aside, he’d have to grow stronger if he intended to beat Modinaram.
Diablo was at a loss for what to say, but Rem nodded, a convinced expression on her face.
“...Yes, I see. Your resourcefulness never fails to surprise to me. You’re already so strong, but you never neglect to aim higher.”
“Wha?!”
“Diablo, you can get even stronger?! That’s incredible!” Shera exclaimed, her eyes positively glittering.
“Demon Lords are already quite strong from the moment they’re born,” Klem said, visibly impressed. “But the idea of growing stronger would never cross our minds.”
“Erm... Y-Yes. I am a Demon Lord after all...”
Dammit, leveling up really isn’t like a Demon Lord! What excuse do I make?! My whole image is gonna fall apart at this rate!
As Diablo felt terror creep down his spine, Klem stood up on top of her chair.
“But now there’s someone like Madness, who absorbs the other Demon Lords!”
“R-Right.”
“So you’re a Demon Lord who grows stronger too!”
That’s it!
Diablo held back the joy from reaching his voice. Smiling a cool, knowing smile, he nodded with intensity.
“Hmph... I am the true Demon Lord, so my ambition is likewise as ultimate. Isn’t that obvious?”
Internally, he wiped his forehead of the bullets he’d been sweating. He was worried the others learning about his desire to level up as a warrior would ruin his Demon Lord persona, but he somehow managed to talk his way out of that. It was all thanks to the image he’d built up until now. Rem, Klem, and Shera’s sincerity helped out a great deal as well.
“Swordmaster is, from the races?” Edelgard snuck a gaze at him from the nearby table and mumbled an objection. “Demon Lord...wouldn’t rely on, races.”
An apt comment. But he did have an excuse for that at the ready.
“Hmph... That is why you lose.” Diablo curled his lips in a smirk.
“Huh?!”
“Be it the races or the Fallen, I’ll make use of whoever I need. If anyone stands in my path, I’ll destroy them. That’s all there is to it... Fussing over matters of blood is narrow-minded.”
“Hmmm.” Edelgard puffed up her cheeks grumpily.
“The Fallen grow stronger by receiving magical energy from the Demon Lord, but the races train to grow stronger. If you wish to be of use to Klem, don’t just earn money in the bakery, devote yourself to growing stronger.”
“I know!” Edelgard peevishly turned away. She was in a position to lead an army of Fallen, but was even more childish than Klem on some fronts.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to rely on the Swordmaster to level up efficiently though.
There were many differences between this world and Cross Reverie. What type of person was the swordmaster?
After breakfast, Diablo and his group took to their carriage and set out to the Demon Lord’s domain.
†
Finally going out on the journey, Diablo equipped an item he’d picked up when he escorted Rose to the Demon Lord’s Labyrinth. It was a suit of black armor with gold hemming that was even flashier than what he usually wore, as well as a cape and gauntlets with a similar appearance. This gear had the benefit of increasing the amount of experience points he’d receive. He didn’t know if they were effective in this world, but it was worth trying.
In Cross Reverie, he’d reached max level in the sorcerer class so he hadn’t equipped it in a long time, but during the early stages of the game he used it quite often. Putting it on in this world felt oddly nostalgic. Its defensive stats were a bit low, which was a little dangerous, but he had to prioritize increasing his level as a warrior for now.
He did keep the Distorted Crown equipped, though. If anyone found out the horns on his head were just for appearance, he’d have to bury himself from the shame.
The weapon he chose also had experience point gains in mind. The Seraphix Blade dangling from his waist was equippable by a level 70 warrior. Its offensive stats were questionable compared to other weapons of its level, but it made up for that with an effect that increased the experience points the wielder obtained.
Can I even use these here?
It was technically possible to equip them even in the game itself, but a sorcerer wouldn’t be able to activate any of the equipment’s effects. But in this world, it was possible to level up multiple classes, in which case even a sorcerer like him should be able to use these.
The Seraphix Blade required being level 70 or higher. Emile had once appraised Diablo as a warrior around level 40, and Diablo wondered if he might actually be a little higher. Even with wishful thinking, however, level 70 felt like a stretch. He’d have to level up some more to use the Seraphix Blade. As such, Diablo decided to challenge monsters—which he’d usually just blow away with magic—head on in melee combat.
“Raaah!” Diablo slashed with his sword, stabbing his blade into the neck of a gigantic Madara Snake that jumped out of a lake. Drops of blood stained the air.
Kuh! It didn’t cut him down!
In the game, a Madara Snake was a level 60 monster, but in this world, it came off as a little weaker than that. Diablo had beaten it this time, with some difficulty, with the help of Rem’s summons and Shera’s bow.
Fighting them one-on-one is kinda challenging... I suppose I’m somewhere around level 50 as a warrior then?
That was the impression he got after the battle ended. This was another world, but it was a reality. There was no music that played when you won battles, no fanfares blaring to celebrate level-ups or rare items drops. It was quite dull. Worst of all, he had no indication of how many experience points he’d obtained, or if he received any at all. The numbers didn’t show up anywhere. Reality was so bland... How many more monsters would he have to beat to get the experience he needed? How many more experience points would he need to level up? Was the gear even working...?
He had no way of telling.
“God, what a shitty game.”
“...Is something wrong Diablo?”
“It’s nothing.”
He couldn’t help but feel respect for Rem who’d managed to level up to a level 50 summoner with these depressing mechanics. For now, though, he just had to believe that he was gaining experience the same way he did in the game.
†
A week after they started heading to the north of the Demon Lord’s domain, Diablo and his group found themselves at the foot of a mountain called Mount Tenzan. Despite its name, it had no relation to a certain aircraft...
The village at the base of the mountain was as peaceful as any settlement of the races. Soldiers and adventurers stuck out more here than they did in Faltra, but it wasn’t as gloomy as you would expect from a place where recluses and monks gathered. It was surrounded by walls, and both sides of the main street were lined with stalls and peddlers. Diablo and his group could even hear the shouts of an old man selling skewered meat from afar.
“Welcome, welcome! We got giant toad meat! It’s nice and soft!”
“...That sounds good, doesn’t it, Diablo?”
“Isn’t that a frog monster?”
“Look, Diablo, they’re selling all this fruit I’ve never seen before!”
“Are you sure they’re not poisonous?”
Rem and Shera seemed excited to be in a new, unknown town. Being adventurers, albeit each for their own reasons, meant they fundamentally enjoyed traveling. Diablo, on the other hand, was a shut-in, so his cautious nature took the driver’s seat.
Wasn’t this village just some unremarkable healing spot in the game...?
“You’re quite lively, aren’t you.”
“...We’re gathering intel, Diablo. I’ll ask the peddlers for information while I buy my skewers.”
“And I’m gonna buy some fruit!”
“Do what you wish.”
Diablo wasn’t any good when it came to talking to other people, so he left the information gathering to Rem and Shera.
A short while later—
Rem had returned, nibbling on a skewer that had what looked like chicken meat on it.
“...They call this town Sormas. It was founded by people wishing to train under the swordmaster. It seems many went on to open their own dojos.”
“So this is a warrior town.”
“...Eventually, this town attracted skilled blacksmiths and apothecaries, so despite it being in the Demon Lord’s domain, monsters don’t dare approach this place.”
“Then that’s why it’s flourishing so.”
“...Adventurers and merchants need a place to rest at safely. I heard they have a large coach house as well.”
“Hmm. If the swordmaster’s dwelling is nearby, we may want to leave our carriage there.”
“Mm! Mm!” Shera raised her hand, her cheeks stuffed with fruit.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Omnom! Nng! Gulp! Graham’s house is on the top of the mountain!” Shera pointed toward Mount Tenzan.
Diablo knitted his brows. “So we have to climb...”
The mountain’s slopes were rather gentle, but gradually changed their angle the higher up you went. The top of the mountain was also surrounded by clouds. Diablo hated walking, but with his level 150 body, climbing shouldn’t be impossible.
“Oh, and they were selling these too.” Shera held out her hand, presenting a round, brown...something.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a Swordmaster Bun!”
“...I’ve seen them selling replicas of the swordmaster’s wooden sword too.”
“Whoa, that sounds cool!”
What are these, hot spring souvenirs?!
While Cross Reverie was seemingly developed by taking inspiration from this world, its developers apparently had to consider all sorts of things to make it into a game. A player who played long enough to reach level 80 wasn’t a beginner anymore. It’d take them roughly two months of real time to do so. Expecting that sort of player to be impressed with a Swordmaster Bun was absurd. They’d expect something more dignified of their time spent to get here.
Whatever the case, if they were to climb up the mountain, the carriage wouldn’t be of any help. They decided to entrust it to the coach house.
At the coach house—
It was a large storehouse near the city walls. It had a grassy field surrounded by high fences, allowing the horses to roam as they wished. The coach house’s owner was a stout-faced dwarf, a race with dog ears and tails, who looked to be a former adventurer. Upon seeing Diablo’s carriage, he narrowed his eyes.
“Nice carriage ya got there. Did ya buy it at the capital?”
“...Yes, we did. You can tell?”
They left the talking to Rem. Handling merchants was too difficult for Diablo, who hated talking to people, and Shera, who was a touch too airheaded.
The dwarf shopkeeper nodded. “It’s a work of an acquaintance of mine actually. Glad to see he’s in good health.”
It was hard to tell from his expression with the beard covering his face, but his voice was thick with nostalgia.
“...We came here to meet the swordmaster, so we’d like to leave our carriage with you for a while. Would that be acceptable?”
“The swordmaster? Ya be climbing Mount Tenzan?”
“If we must.”
The dwarf looked Rem over, then turned his gaze to Diablo and Shera.
“Ya people are strong, eh? Must be, if you rode through the Demon Lord’s domain to get all the way out here.”
“...We do have confidence in our skills.”
“In that case, ya should turn back for now.”
Something was off about what he just said...
“What do you mean?” Rem asked.
“Around six months back, some creature called the evil ape started appearing around these parts. We don’t know if it’s a Fallen or some weird beast, but it’s extremely dangerous.”
“...Some unknown monster then?”
“From what the people who fought it said, it’s covered in fur from head to toe. It don’t seem to understand language, but it wields a sword skillfully. And it seems to only go after skilled adventurers like yourselves.”
“Huh? It deliberately picks strong adventurers?”
“It apparently attacks ’em out of nowhere after they beat some strong monster.”
“...Maybe it’s simply trying to take advantage of them being exhausted?”
“I don’t know what goes through a monster’s noggin. I’m just warning ya.”
“Yes, we appreciate the precaution.”
The dwarf motioned for them to bring the carriage deeper into the warehouse. “I’ll take care of your carriage. I’ll go write up a contract. Gotta handle those sorta matters formally.”
He looked bold and sketchy at first glance, but the shopkeeper was rather meticulous about his work.
“I’ll be going into the warehouse.” Rem moved the carriage per his instructions.
“Steady now... The horses look a touch skinny. Have ya been pushing ’em pretty hard?”
“...They may be tired. It’s been a long journey.”
“I’ll give ’em a potion then.”
“...What about the cost?”
Rem began pressing the shopkeeper on the terms. It was an impressive sight. Even if she were to quit being an adventurer, she could make for a fine businesswoman.
Diablo looked around. It was a fairly common coach house. Perhaps it was because the town was surrounded by walls, but it had a calm atmosphere that made Diablo forget they were in the Demon Lord’s domain.
“Hm?”
Suddenly, he noticed a cart sitting in the front of the warehouse. When he noticed what was loaded onto it, he broke into a run to look closer.
“This is...?!”
It was loaded with what looked like golden apples, with their leaves in the shapes of stars. Cross Reverie had an item that looked very similar to this.
Are these all Golden Fruit?!
Consuming a Golden Fruit granted you experience points. In the game, it gave you an amount equal to several hours of level grinding. Of course, it wasn’t the type of item you’d usually find piled up by the dozens like this. It was an SSR rarity item you could only get as an award for special occasions like completing an event, defeating a boss, or conquering a dungeon. It was so sought after by all players that putting it up for trade could net you a fortune.
If these Golden Fruit granted experience points just like in the game, that’d be amazing. Several hours of grinding in the game equaled several days worth of training in this one. And there was a literal cartload of them sitting before his very eyes. They may have looked similar, but did their effect match too?
“Those fruit grow on trees on Mount Tenzan,” the dwarf shopkeeper spoke. “They got a nice color to ’em, but they taste something awful. Golden Fruit, I think they call ’em.”
So these are Golden Fruit!
“Really? But they look so tasty...” Shera picked one of the apples up and bit into it. Her expression darkened rapidly as she started spitting it out. “Ungh! Ptui! Ptui!”
“Gahahaha!” the shopkeeper laughed, holding his belly. “Even starved animals wouldn’t eat these, y’know? They’re so bitter even roasting or cooking ’em doesn’t seem to help.”
“Wh-Why even pick these things then...?”
“They’re a type of medicinal plant. Ya can crush ’em to make damn good manure that really helps with growing vegetables. Spreading them on the fields keeps insects away too.”
Bad taste, huh...
Taste wasn’t relevant in the game, and no player would ever hesitate to consume a Golden Fruit.
“There’s also this rumor that warriors of old liked eating Golden Fruit too...” The dwarf patted an old scar on his face. “Well, whatever the case, they ain’t anything the races should be eating.”
“My tongue stings...” Shera made a sour face as the shopkeeper offered her a glass of water.
“I’ve heard of rats that ate these things and died. They might be toxic. Should teach ya to not bite into food ya don’t know, I s’pose.”
“S-Say that sooner!”
Diablo turned a serious gaze toward the Golden Fruit.
Toxic?
Given how rare they were in Cross Reverie, there weren’t any cases of players consuming large numbers of them. It might be worth considering if they were actually dangerous, and there was no telling if they actually granted experience points in this world.
Having returned from signing the contract for the carriage’s safekeeping, Rem pointed out toward the street.
“...I’m sure there’s more decent food we can find that isn’t as suspicious. We should also gather tools for scaling the mountain while we’re at it.”
“Yep, yep, I wanna eat some tasty fruit!” Shera raised both hands to the air.
Diablo offered no objections.
†
The following day—
It was clear out, perfect for hiking. Apparently, the mountain trail led all the way up to the swordmaster’s retreat. There were stone stakes carved with waypoints on them along the road, making it truly look like a tourist attraction of sorts. It almost felt like a picnic. If only this weren’t a mountain in the Demon Lord’s domain...
Sure enough, magical beasts had appeared after a while. There was a Black Fang (a large, black wolf) and a Giant Grizzly (a massive, gray bear). They were merely level 80 and shouldn’t have been that big of a threat. Still, Diablo’s lacking skills as a warrior weren’t enough to match the monsters in the area. He had to resort to magic to deal with them.
It had been six hours since they left Sormas to climb up Mount Tenzan. The peak still seemed far away, but the slopes became steeper, to the extent where the mountain had essentially became a cliff.
“...Where did the road go?” Rem grimaced.
There was a stone stake driven into the cliff, with a way marker pointing up.
“So, they’re telling us to climb up.”
“...I suppose we have no choice.”
“Do you think it’ll be like tree climbing?” Shera placed her hands against the cliff face.
Given that it was considered part of the road, it probably wouldn’t crumble easily. For the elves, who lived on treetops, these types of cliffs probably weren’t too much of a challenge. Rem was climbing up easily as well. The pantherians’ ancestors lived in the plains, but their feline natures made them adept at climbing trees. The two of them were scaling the cliff with ease. Diablo, on the other hand, placed his fingers against the rock face.
I could use magic to fly up the cliff, but that feels like it’d be cheating.
He was training as a warrior, but he still had the body of a level 150 sorcerer. Climbing up a cliff shouldn’t be too hard, he thought as he looked up the cliff...
...Only for his eyes to get a clear, straight view of Rem’s and Shera’s bottoms.
“Bwa?!”
“Hm? What’s wrong, Diablo?”
“...Did something happen?”
“I-It’s nothing.”
Diablo lowered his gaze and concentrated on climbing up the cliff.
It didn’t take them too long to scale the cliff. They found themselves on a wide, flat shoulder halfway up the mountain. The stone stake stuck in the road here didn’t have arrows this time, but rather something written into it.
“...It says ‘Goal,’” Rem read aloud.
Diablo turned around, looking down at the village of Sormas which now seemed like an ant’s village.
“Pheeew, we finally climbed it.” Shera laid down on the grassy field, her limbs sprawled out. Her plump chest moved up and down as she breathed heavily. Given their elevation, the air was colder than on the plains, but despite that, Shera’s forehead still dripped with sweat.
“...The cliff wasn’t that hard to climb,” Rem said, cocking an eyebrow.
“Huh? No way, it was really tough...”
“...I suppose all that useless meat weighed you down.”
“Oh, I get it! You could climb up easier because your chest wasn’t getting in the way.”
“Do you want to get pushed back down the cliff?!”
“No, don’t, stooop!”
Leaving the two to frolic about behind him, Diablo looked around. The place looked flat, like it’d been plowed artificially, and there was a building in the center of it all. It didn’t employ any roof tiles, and was built from wooden pillars with earthen walls. It looked similar to old, Japanese architecture.
There were also weapons thrust into the ground around the estate’s entrance. A sword, spear, axe, scythe, sledgehammer... At a glance, they didn’t seem to be valuable weapons, but they didn’t look cheap either. They were all just haphazardly lodged into the ground.
“...If these are mere ornaments, I’d be doubting the owner’s sense of aesthetics,” Rem said, walking up beside Diablo. “But these look like the remains of battle.”
“Then that’s the swordmaster’s retreat.” Diablo nodded.
“...Most likely.”
“Let’s go.”
They stepped forward.
Shera, who was still lying about, got to her feet in a hurry. “Ah, wait for meee~”
†
Diablo silently slid the front door open.
“...Have you been here before, Diablo?” Rem asked, her eyes round with surprise.
“No. Why would you think so?”
“...You knew how to open this door.”
“Sliding doors may not be common in Lyferia, but they are in other regions.”
“...So it seems,” she said, eyeing the door curiously.
“It’s a wooden house!” Shera, on the other hand, seemed more interested in the place’s interior.
The floor was made of flattened earth, and a wooden pillar extended upward from a flat stone surface. It was old, Japanese architecture, which was a rare sign in the Kingdom of Lyferia. The interior looked less like an entranceway and more like a warehouse, and had quite a bit of open space to it. To the right of the entrance was a wall, and to the left were six wooden doors. One of them was slightly ajar.
Is that...a dog?
Diablo spotted a pair of triangular dog ears between the gaps in the wooden door. The ears suddenly jolted, and a meek voice came from behind the door.
“U-Um... Are you...customers? Or are you...s-scary people?”
A girl’s voice. According to the game’s story, Swordmaster Graham was an old, sage-like man. He was a detached hermit who lived alone, so maybe in this other world he had a servant?
“I am a Demon Lord from—”
“We’re customers of course! We’re not scary at all!” Rem cut into Diablo’s words as he began speaking his usual self-introduction. She then whispered into his ear: “...The Swordmaster might turn you down if you call yourself a Demon Lord.”
“Really?”
Swordmaster Graham was human, but taught everyone equally without regard for their race. That said, the game never had a situation where a Fallen or a Demon Lord asked to be taught.
I’ll just leave negotiations to her then.
“R-Really?” the voice from behind the door asked again.
“...Yes, we bear no ill will.”
“Aaah, that’s good...”
The wooden door finally opened, and what appeared from behind it wasn’t a dog, but a dwarven girl. She had triangular dog ears and a tufty tail. She looked to be about seventeen years old.
Dwarven females were as short as children but had sizable breasts, and had characteristic dog ears and tails. She wore a Japanese-style outfit, the kind Diablo never saw in Lyferia.
She fidgeted, her gaze shifting between Diablo’s group and the ground.
“U-Um... Welcome.”
“...I am Rem Galleu, an adventurer.”
“Ah... I am Sasara.” The dwarf bowed deeply.
Bowing wasn’t customary in Lyferia either. Handshakes and nods were the extent of physical greetings. Cross Reverie did feature a country based on Japanese elements, and, according to the lore, it was a foreign country far beyond the eastern sea. Diablo didn’t know if this Asian country existed in this world though.
“...Is this Swordmaster Graham’s abode?” Rem asked.
“Um, I think it will take some time...”
“We can wait,” Rem replied immediately.
Given that they had to climb a mountain to get here, they were willing to stay the night if they had to.
The dwarven girl, Sasara, nodded. “Ah, thank you very much... There’s three of you then. Um... Could you wait inside?”
†
Sasara invited them inside. The floor inside was wooden, and there was a hearth in the center of the room with hemp cloths and rugs surrounding it. There were no tables or chairs to be seen. The room was built so a large pillar supported the wooden roof, and some of the white mud walls had a different color to them in some segments. It probably needed to be frequently maintained and mended.
Sasara retreated deeper inside, so only the three of them were left in the room.
“...It’s hard to get used to this.”
It wasn’t customary to sit on the floor in the Kingdom of Lyferia, so Rem fidgeted atop the hemp cloth she was sitting on.
“We’re used to sitting on the grass in Greenwood, so this isn’t too bad.” Shera sat while hugging her legs.
“Hm.” Diablo was sitting with his legs crossed.
After a short while, Sasara showed up, carrying a large tray.
“Th-Thank you for waiting.”
Wondering what she’d brought, Diablo was surprised to see it was three round plates filled with pasta and some sort of brown soup. She placed them in front of Diablo’s group.
“Umm... Help yourselves.”
Beside the dishes were pairs of chopsticks. It was the first time Diablo had seen them since coming to this world.
“...What are these?” Rem picked up her chopsticks.
“I-I’m sorry. You’re supposed to eat soba with chopsticks.”
Diablo looked at the pasta lying on his plate. True enough, it had a gray hue, and there wasn’t any sauce on it. The light brown liquid next to it, which he thought was soup, was actually soba broth.
“This is soba?!”
“Y-Yes. It’s Swordmaster Soba.”
“Swordmaster Soba?!”
Sasara nodded.
Rem had a dubious expression on her face, while Shera didn’t seem to mind and held a chopstick in each hand. They both seemed to be struggling in their attempts to scoop up the soba.
“Aaah, eee! Eating soba’s kinda hard~”
“You do it like this.” Diablo used his chopsticks normally, scooping up some of his soba.
“Whoa!” It was Sasara who raised her voice in surprise. “Amazing... So that’s how you use them... You’re so knowledgeable.”
“Wait... But you’re the one who served it.”
“U-Um... I only work based off what’s written in the founder’s book of secrets... I don’t really know much about soba myself.”
“The founder?”
“Umm... The first swordmaster.”
“I see.”
Using the way Diablo held the chopsticks as a reference, Rem was quickly learning how to use them properly. As prudent as ever. Shera wasn’t as wise, trying to eat the soba by pinching it up with her fingers, so Sasara had to bring her a fork. However, the Swordmaster Soba’s flavor was...
“It looks a little strange, and its flavor is a bit off.”
“Aaah... Is it no good?”
Diablo didn’t know where she got it from in this world, but it looked like she used buckwheat flour, or at least something similar. The way she prepared the dough wasn’t wrong, and it did look somewhat like soba noodles.
“The noodles aren’t smooth, probably because the fire was too low when you simmered it. And it’s too soft, so I assume you used too much water while kneading it.”
He remembered something like that from a manga. Online games involved repetitive work, so he often watched anime and read manga as he played.
“Hm hm... The fire and water...” Sasara’s expression went from bashful timidness to the very face of seriousness.
“For starters, you shouldn’t serve soba on a plate, but on a sieve. That should improve it quite a bit.”
“A...sieve?”
“Any container the water can drain into would work.”
“I’ll...try and make one.” Sasara nodded happily.
Shera devoured the soba on her plate quickly. The soba’s quality aside, they’d spent hours climbing a mountain, so almost anything would taste good to her. Rem finished shortly after.
“Thank you for the meal. But, Diablo, we’ve forgotten the most important part.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
“Of course.”
“The soba broth was too thin. You should have at least used some condiments to even it out.”
“...That’s not what I meant... We didn’t come here for Swordmaster Soba, but to be taught by the swordmaster, correct?”
“Ah, true.” He’d completely forgotten.
“Ah...” Sasara’s eyes widened. “So you aren’t customers, but adventurers...?!”
“...Yes.”
“But...you said you weren’t scary people earlier.”
“So that’s what you meant... My apologies, we came here to meet Swordmaster Graham, and train under him as warriors.”
“Oh...” Sasara’s expression filled with disappointment. “I thought someone finally came to eat my soba...”
“...So where is the swordmaster?”
Pausing for a moment at Rem’s question, Sasara then said, “They’re, um...over here.”
“...In this manor?”
“Yes. Right here.”
“...Can we meet with him?”
“You’re, um...already speaking to the swordmaster.”
Rem tilted her head quizzically.
Sasara raised her right hand’s index finger and pointed it toward her nose. “Right here.”
“...Pardon?”
“Th-That would be me. I am the thirteenth generation to the swordmaster title, Graham Sasara...”
†
“Huh?” Rem tilted her head even further, to the extent that it was horizontal against the floor.
“F-Forgive me...” Sasara hung her head. “I don’t look the part, do I...? I know I don’t, but...”
“It can’t be! You’re Swordmaster Graham?!” Rem called out in surprise, Sasara almost bolting out of the room in shock.
“Aaaaaah.... I’m sorry, someone like me isn’t worthy!”
“...I apologize, it’s just...you don’t have a sword on you...”
“That’s because I was making soba...”
“...That’s true.”
“Y-Yes. A swordmaster made it, so it’s Swordmaster Soba... Or, well, that’s the joke...”
Sasara hung her head, blushing and on the verge of tears. If it made her that embarrassed, she probably shouldn’t have said anything.
Diablo was surprised. The dwarves weren’t as long-lived as the elves, and their appearance wasn’t as unchanging as the Grasswalkers’. Plus, Sasara only looked to be around seventeen years old. No matter how she tried to dress herself up, there was no way an “old master” would look that young, and she wasn’t a man either.
Diablo was a sorcerer, so he’d never met Graham in the game, but he did see the sprite on the internet. Graham was a white-haired, old, human male, carrying a Japanese katana with the symbol of the crescent moon etched on its pommel. Sasara didn’t look even remotely close to what Diablo knew of the swordmaster.
I guess she’s someone different from the swordmaster in Cross Reverie...
“Wow, so you were the swordmaster, Sasara?” Shera seemed to take Sasara’s words at face value.
“I’m sorry... I know I don’t look the part.”
“That doesn’t matter. I mean, I’m the elven queen, but I don’t really look like one, do I?”
“Huh?! Then that means you’re an incredibly important person! What brings you to the Demon Lord’s Domain?”
“I guess I followed my husband?” Shera pointed at Diablo.
Sasara’s eyes darted about nervously. “Th-The elven king...?”
“Hm.”
“But, you’re a demon?”
“That’s a long story...”
Sasara seemed very impressed, and heaved an oddly relieved sigh.
“It really takes all kinds to make a world, doesn’t it...”
When she put it like that, a girl who served soba turning out to be the swordmaster didn’t seem all that odd...
“...How long have you been the swordmaster?” Rem asked, not entirely convinced.
“Hmm...” Sasara began counting on her fingers. “About half a year, I think?”
“...That’s very recent. What happened to your predecessor?”
“Nn...” Sasara had answered Rem’s questions until now, however hesitantly, but covered her face when confronted with this one. She mumbled something in a low, barely audible voice, and Rem stiffened at what she heard. Pantherians had excellent hearing, after all, enough to pick up the footsteps of their prey on the plains.
“...He passed away?! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up any painful topics...”
“N-No. He lived for over a hundred years already.”
The average life expectancy for humans in this world was roughly fifty years, so if he lived to the age of one hundred, Graham had more than surpassed his lifespan. And Sasara was his heir, it seemed.
“We are adventurers, seeking the power to defeat the Demon Lord’s army,” Rem began explaining their situation to her. “We heard that if we came here we’d be able to train.”
“Huh?” Sasara looked back at Rem with a bewildered expression.
“...Was what we were told wrong?”
“All I know is how to use a sword... Miss Rem, you’re a sorcerer, aren’t you? And those people over there are a sorcerer and an archer, correct?”
“I’m a summoner!” Shera shook her head.
“I-Is that right?”
Shera may have denied it, but Sasara’s judgment wasn’t wrong. If anything, the fact that she could see through Diablo’s warrior gear and still discern he was a sorcerer stood as proof of her skill as a swordmaster.
“...Like you said, I am a summoner. But the way I am right now, I stand no chance against the Fallen. I wish to learn the ways of the warrior as well.”
“Hmm... So you say building your body’s strength will help you develop as a sorcerer too?”
“...Yes, but...”
Unable to keep silent, Diablo butted into the conversation, shaking his head.
“We came here because the enemy we’re facing isn’t that easy to beat. I need to be as strong as a high-level warrior.”
“Enemy...?”
Sasara was gentle about it, but it seemed the prerequisites to train were as harsh as they were in the game. In Cross Reverie, those who didn’t meet the requirements were turned away, regardless of what the Demon Lord’s army was doing. Diablo may have maxed out his level as a sorcerer, but so long as he didn’t fulfill the requirements of being a level 80 warrior, he wouldn’t be trained.
But this was another world, and they were having a civil conversation with the swordmaster. If they just explained everything well enough, they might be able to convince her to train Diablo anyway. For the time being, they had to make it clear this was a crisis that applied to the races as a whole.
Diablo was rather nervous under the surface however.
Calm down. Just explain things to her normally...
If he didn’t keep up his Demon Lord act, he wouldn’t be able to utter a word, but being too coercive would be counterproductive. He’d have to be as friendly and kind as possible here...
“Heheheh... The Demon Lord has awakened,” Diablo said with a smile. “The races stand on the brink of ruin.”
“Eee?! What are you saying all of a sudden?!”
“...He’s trying to say that if we adventurers fail, a terrible fate will befall the races,” Rem cut back in, trying to salvage the conversation.
“The Demon Lord’s been revived?”
Sasara wasn’t aware. It seemed the information hadn’t yet reached her here, deep in the mountains.
“They’re called the Demon Lord of Madness, Modinaram. Have you heard of them?”
“I haven’t.”
“They’ve been absorbing the other Demon Lords. They also call themselves the Demon Overlord.”
“Demon Overlord...” Sasara’s response was surprisingly weak.
“I’ve never seen a Demon Lord before, so I don’t really understand...” she said apologetically.
“Hm.”
Since she didn’t understand the situation, the magnitude of the threat didn’t really register with Sasara. Rem and Shera tried explaining things to her more thoroughly, but it didn’t really seem to get the point across. Though she did more or less understand their plight.
“I see, so because of this Demon Overlord Modinaram, terrible things happened at Zircon Tower and the elven kingdom...”
“Do you understand now?” Diablo folded his arms in a self-important manner. He then asked her to teach him once more:
“Instruct me in swordplay, swordmaster! I’ll allow it!”
“No one’s been so overbearing before...”
“Does the choice of words really matter?!”
“Uuu... I didn’t mean that... It’s just that, if you don’t have some skill with the sword already I can’t teach you... Or rather, there’s no point in me teaching you...”
“How can you tell I’m not good enough without testing me?!”
Perhaps a Swordmaster just had a special way of knowing. Either way, Diablo was well aware his level as a warrior wasn’t high enough realistically. But with the Demon Lord’s army looming so close, an invasion could happen on any given day, so he couldn’t back down from this easily.
“Waaah... A-All right... I’ll test you then!”
“Terrific! My goodwill came through to you!”
“...It looked more like you threatened her into this...” Rem sighed.
Impossible. Diablo turned his gaze to Sasara, who looked to be moments away from bursting into tears. What was this odd feeling of guilt...?
†
They all went out to the yard, where the weapons were thrust into the ground, and Sasara pulled one—a single-edged longsword—out.
“I’ll use this one.”
Shera gave a large yawn, as she’d apparently nodded off a bit while Diablo and Rem handled negotiations.
So that’s why she was so quiet...
“Hmm... Ah, right... Why are there so many weapons stuck in the ground here? Isn’t this your yard?”
“...I admit I fail to see why as well,” Rem said, her head cocked.
“R-Right...” Sasara said in a self-deprecating voice, her brows knitted. “It does look weird, doesn’t it...? A-Ahaha... My predecessor believed all it takes to know someone’s skill was a single swing.”
Diablo suspected he figured out the trick here.
“It’s because of their attributes, right? Each weapon has one of the elements of fire, water, earth, wind, light, and darkness. Swords, spears, and axes all have their own unique attributes on top of that. Most people tend to gravitate toward one weapon type, but some may use a different weapon to better match their opponent.”
Most players in Cross Reverie were the latter, but some did concentrate on mastering a single attribute to the extreme and used it to conquer every situation.
However, Diablo’s pouch, capable of fitting countless weapons inside it, was a precious rarity, and his was the only one he’d seen so far. This naturally meant that warriors capable of carrying and making use of multiple weapons were incredibly rare.
Rem and Shera seemed impressed by Diablo’s words. Sasara looked at him with surprise.
“Y-You’re...the first person to understand that much.” Her cheeks were, for some reason, flushed red, and she looked up at him with moist eyes.
“Hmph... That much is common sense.” Diablo averted his gaze, embarrassed. “Those who visited you until now were probably too low leveled.”
“Hehehe...” Sasara giggled, then said, “As an adventurer, you’re probably much stronger than me. Should you use your magic, that is.”
“Obviously.”
“It’s a pity... If you walked down the path of the blade, I could have passed everything onto you.”
“Is this part of your test?”
“If you are able to block my attacks even once, you pass.”
Sasara raised her sword, and a gust of wind kicked up around her.
A wind element sword?
The atmosphere around them changed at once. Rem and Shera swallowed nervously, goosebumps rising on their skin. Diablo could feel his own pulse accelerate as well.
She was like a totally different person. The bashful Sasara they’d seen earlier seemed like someone else altogether from the person standing before them with her sword held up. Before he even knew it, Diablo’s palms began sweating.
This aura is ever scarier than Galford’s or Batutta’s!
The only thing that could possibly be compared was the awakened Krebskulm’s power. Diablo’s gamer instincts were calling out in alarm: This is bad. But he couldn’t run away now, so he drew the Seraphix Blade from his waist.
“All I need to do is block a single attack? I know the sword is your weapon of choice, but...do not underestimate me.”
He’d faced many enemies, both in the game and in this world. He was confident he could evade and block the attacks of even specialized warrior types .
“You do not seem to understand...your own characteristics.” Sasara advanced a single step forward.
“What?”
“When fighting powerful sorcerers, a warrior must always be prepared to close the distance. If he stays too far away, it becomes too hard to close in on the opponent. One must watch out for their spells as well. There are spells too powerful to be withstood by sheer fortitude after all.”
“You know so much of elemental magic?”
“I am a swordmaster after all.”
In this world, summoning magic was seen as the more useful type, while elemental magic was looked down upon. But it seemed someone who had broken the limit of the races properly understood the power of elemental magic.
Sasara closed the distance between them by yet another step. She was at a distance that put her at a disadvantage against a sorcerer, but Diablo specialized in close combat as well. He was in range of her sword, but he should be able to evade it. More importantly, though, Diablo’s style was settling battles in short, decisive matches, using high firepower spells that required contact or to be fired off at low speeds. That was because Diablo had always fought alone, which made him susceptible to losing battles of attrition.
“This is the range of a warrior.”
“You would do well to not consider me a normal sorcerer. Even at this distance, I’m more than capable of keeping up with you.”
“That’s because the opponent is mindful of your spells.”
“It’s natural to be wary of your opponent’s attacks.”
“It’s impossible to intercept spells with a sword after all... I will now unleash a fully-powered slash without being cautious of your spells. If you can block that, you pass, and I will teach you as a swordmaster.”
“Very well.”
The menacing aura suddenly disappeared from Sasara’s body. The howling wind died down, leaving not so much as a breeze around them.
“...I will slash you.” Her attack was like a bird soaring past the windless sky.
“Whoa?!”
Sasara’s blade brushed against the nape of Diablo’s neck. However, it didn’t break the skin, nor did any blood gush out. She attacked with the back of her blade. That was why she used a single-edged sword.
I couldn’t see her attack at all?!
“Normally, slashes are unleashed by stepping firmly against the ground...” Sasara said, her expression firm and without a smile, “but when facing a high-level sorcerer, one must prepare to move away even as they slash.”
“Impossible... I’ve fought enemies where we were willing to attack each other simultaneously.”
He didn’t doubt the height of her skills. He decided to train as a warrior exactly because there was a chance the Demon Overlord Modinaram was as fast as she. With this, Diablo was confident his thinking was correct, and he was glad to have met the swordmaster.
But what Sasara just said didn’t convince him. Her claim that anyone could unleash a strike that fast if they stopped being cautious of his magic didn’t make sense to him.
“But...” Her expression suddenly turned curious. She lowered her hips and swung the sword again. This time, he could barely see the slash...but the blade was too fast for him to block. Her sword gently touched his right shoulder.
“Kuh...”
“This was a little slower, wasn’t it?”
“Compared to earlier.”
“Then this one should be faster.”
She unleashed another high-speed slash, but before Diablo could even move his sword to intercept, Sasara’s tapped against his right leg. Diablo specialized in close combat, but she was on a whole different level. There was no time to even react.
Diablo clenched his teeth bitterly. “I didn’t think there would be that much of a gap... This is worse than I thought.”
Sasara lowered her blade, and the atmosphere settled down.
†
“M-My apologies...” Sasara bowed deeply. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“I’m surprised,” Diablo said, visibly disappointed. “I’ve never been overwhelmed like this before. I suppose that’s what facing a swordmaster is like... One cannot help but admire you.”
“N-No... The only thing I’m good at is waving a sword around...” She shrunk her already small body even further.
Diablo bit his lip. It felt like all the pride he built up until now was shattered. He’d boasted victory after victory under his belt in Cross Reverie, enough to be able to call himself a Demon Lord. He’d set countless records in events. His superhuman reaction speed and clear judgment allowed him to conquer many fearsome opponents. To top it all off, this world, for many reasons, was significantly lower-leveled than the game.
But here he was now, cut down before he could even process what was going on! He’d never lost so thoroughly before, even in the game.
What’s going on here?
He knew one had to be a level 80 warrior to be tutored by the swordmaster, but would a warrior of that level really be able to block Sasara’s slash? Diablo couldn’t believe it. But he had no choice but to acknowledge it. Emile did say he was being trained by the swordmaster after all.
“My master told me, ‘Go forth and broaden your horizons’! I’ve become apprentice to the Swordmaster Graham, who lives up in the northern mountains, you see.”
He definitely called the swordmaster his “master.” Sasara took the mantle six months ago, so Emile likely didn’t mean the predecessor.
Diablo could handle being told he was weaker than the Demon Overlord or the swordmaster when it came to close combat; he’d expected as much. That was why he decided to train as a warrior. But this was an entirely different story.
I’m inferior to a level 80 warrior...?
This didn’t make sense.
“E-Erm...” Sasara peered at his face, concerned. “Are you all right? Are you sure you’re not hurt...?”
“Yes, there’s no cause for concern.”
“That’s good. Um... Well...about the training... Even if I agree to do it, I can’t teach you if you can’t keep up with my blade.”
He knew his level wasn’t enough, but he didn’t imagine he’d be beaten down like this. Diablo was perplexed. It had happened before where he was so depressed his Demon Lord role play fell apart, but now...
I’m so pumped right now!
It was like the excitement he felt when he played Cross Reverie for the first time. He’d felt the same way when he first came to this world, but as he gauged his skills as a sorcerer, the relief they were intact had diminished his elation. But he can become even stronger!
“Heheh... Heheheheh...” Diablo’s grip on his sword tightened.
“Do you understand now?”
“You have my thanks, Sasara.”
“Huh? Huh...?”
“I swear, I will block your sword.”
“Yes.” Sasara nodded. “I’m sure that given ten years of training, you will be able to.”
“Sorry, but...I don’t have that much time.”
“B-But, training is something you have to keep a steady pace at...”
“I’ve lost for now! But I’ll come again soon!” Diablo turned his back to her.
Rem and Shera were waiting for him. He’d thought their trust for him may have diminished after seeing him lose, but there wasn’t a trace of disappointment or scorn on their faces. If anything, their expressions were smiles of appreciation.
“...That looked quite hard. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen you lose.”
“Sasara is so strong! I couldn’t see her sword either!”
“...Just what you’d expect of a Swordmaster. She was even faster than Faltra’s governor and Paladin Saddler.”
“Yeah, and even faster than that man, Batutta.”
There was no mistaking that. But if a level 80 warrior could stop such a slash, then Diablo truly was too weak at the moment. He admitted his defeat, and descended from the mountain.
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