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HELHEIM SCANS
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Chapter 22: A Team Stronger Than Expected
The search for team members continues.
Having found no suitable candidates among the second-years, I decided to visit the first-year floor this time.
Unlike the relatively composed second-years, the first-years, still fresh to the academy, were lively and chattering away in groups.
‘The second-years have already experienced the Demon Dungeon during their first year.’
The difference was stark between those who had been through the Dungeon and those who hadn’t.
But even among these first-years, there are exceptional individuals.
These are the students of the special class.
A level of talent so exceptional that they could join the second-year teams without issue, the special class is composed of students on a whole different plane from their peers.
“Hmm? Someone small is coming over.”
“Yeah, tiny.”
I could hear the first-years chattering as they noticed me.
But the moment they saw my name tag, they shut their mouths.
The blue of the second-year uniform and the emblem of the student council.
These two markers alone gave me a certain gravity among them.
The first-years naturally parted to clear a path for me.
The respect they showed me here was a stark contrast to the casual reactions I got in the second-year corridors.
‘I’ve already taken note of the special class members.’
Before that, there was someone I needed to find.
“You there, freshman.”
“Y-Yes?”
When I addressed a specific first-year, he responded with obvious nervousness, his voice taut with energy.
“Do you know where Aisha Bizvel is?”
Aisha Bizvel.
The "Iron Greatsword."
She’s a first-year I train with every morning.
I owed her a lot already, so I decided to take this chance to rely on her even more.
The first-year I asked easily pointed me to where Aisha was, unsurprising since she was known to always train during lunch hours.
‘Training in the morning, then again after lunch.’
At this rate, Aisha might genuinely be made of steel.
Compared to my own resilient “steel skin,” she was a true iron-willed person.
As expected, I found her in the training room.
Wearing a tracksuit instead of her school uniform, Aisha was wielding a massive greatsword, swinging it with precision.
Despite the absurd size of the weapon, she wielded it with graceful arcs.
It was clear yet again—her muscles were beyond comprehension.
“Aisha.”
When I called out to her, she stopped mid-swing.
Turning toward me, she broke into a smile, happy to see me.
“Oh, senior, what brings you here?”
When she smiled, the first-year who had guided me looked utterly shocked.
“D-Did the Iron Greatsword just smile?”
His reaction gave me a good sense of the situation.
Aisha occupied an intimidating position among the first-years.
She belonged to the Bizvel Count Family, a noble house of the empire’s northern frontier.
The Bizvel family was famous for being a battle-hardened clan.
Whether male or female, all its members were tall and exceptionally sturdy.
Meeting a male member of the Bizvel family alone would make most ordinary men feel biologically outclassed.
Aisha, among this family, was recognized as having outstanding talent, even by their lofty standards.
She had entered the Zerion Academy not through the standard entrance exam but through a recommendation.
Her martial arts grades ranked at the top of her class, and she spent most of her time training, resulting in shallow relationships with her peers.
To the extent that I, a senior, was the person she spoke with the most in the academy.
Naturally, Aisha was an intimidating presence for the first-years.
Her smiling at me had thoroughly stunned my guide.
The first-year turned to me with a dazed expression, clearly wondering who on earth I was.
‘Looks like my reputation hasn’t spread much among the first-years.’
Well, it made sense.
They were too busy adapting to the academy and their studies to worry about academy gossip.
“You can leave now.”
When I dismissed him, he finally snapped out of it and quietly left the room.
Even as he exited, his gaze lingered on me, filled with unanswered questions.
“So, senior, why are you here?”
In the meantime, Aisha had wiped off her sweat and approached me with a bright expression.
I handed her the drink I had brought along.
I figured she would be training, so I had come prepared.
“Oh, thank you.”
“Aisha, have you decided on your team for the Dungeon expedition?”
Aisha, drinking from the bottle, shook her head.
As expected, she hadn’t.
“I’m thinking of forming a team. How about joining me?”
With someone like Aisha on the team, there would be no better frontline fighter.
When I made the offer, Aisha finished her drink and flashed a confident, radiant smile.
“So this drink was a bribe?”
“Exactly. Now that you’ve drunk it, you can’t escape. If you try, I’ll accuse you of accepting a bribe and subject you to all sorts of threats.”
“Terrifying. Knowing you, they’d be weird threats.”
“Well, I’m thinking of starting by threatening to reduce your morning training sessions.”
“That’s the one thing I’ll risk my body to prevent.”
The thought of Aisha tackling me was genuinely terrifying.
“So, what about the team?”
“I’ll join. I think we’ll work well together.”
Having spent so much time training together, there wasn’t anyone in the academy who matched Aisha’s synergy with me.
With that, the frontline was secured.
Now, all that remained was finding…
‘A healer.’
A student from the Divine Arts department.
* * *
Time passed.
As summer gradually approached, the academy entered a heightened state of tension.
The emergence of Apostles due to Demon Sovereigns is predicted through astrological readings of the four seasons.
- The most pleasant day of spring.
- The beginning of summer.
- The autumn equinox, when night becomes longer than day.
- The coldest day of winter.
At the peak of each season, an Apostle is born.
When first born, an Apostle’s power is weak.
Thus, academies across the world deploy their students into the Dungeon four times a year to prevent their growth.
And today marked the transition into summer, with rising temperatures.
The western sector Dungeon entrance, managed by Zerion Academy, was abuzz with activity as countless students gathered under the guidance of professors and assistants.
Of course, not all students entered the Dungeon at once.
The top-performing third-years entered first, followed by others in order.
‘The Dungeon is a bizarre structure.’
The ultimate goal of an Apostle is to emerge from the Dungeon, wreak havoc on the world, and hatch the Demon Sovereign.
Hence, Apostles are born in the first-floor incubation chamber.
However, to reach the outside world, they must approach the Demon Sovereign to gain its power.
In their newborn state, Apostles are too weak to survive outside the Dungeon, where they’d be hunted by knights stationed at the entrance.
So, they descend further into the Dungeon, absorbing the Demon Sovereign’s energy to grow stronger.
The deeper they go, the stronger they become.
When they become fully-fledged Apostles, they launch a reverse ascent toward the surface.
The purpose of academies worldwide is to prevent this from happening.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Night]
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Students are deployed into the Dungeon four times a year to stop Apostles in their early stages.
‘No matter how many times I think about it, it’s a strange setup.’
Standing before the Dungeon entrance, I watched the third-years begin their descent.
The gaping entrance looked like the maw of hell, as if it would devour everything in its path.
‘If I were the Demon Sovereign, I would have created Apostles by my side from the start.’
Why go to the trouble of birthing Apostles at the Dungeon’s entrance?
Even after all the time I spent playing the game, I couldn’t understand the reasoning behind the Dungeon’s design.
‘Then again…’
The very existence of Demon Sovereigns is shrouded in mystery.
Even in the Flame Butterfly ending, it was unclear whether the Demon Sovereign was truly defeated.
‘Deus Ex Machina.’
The god of the machine.
A narrative device used to facilitate the story.
Players often referred to the Demon Sovereign by that name.
‘Some said that Demon Sovereign was left ambiguous on purpose, so the developers could use it for the final chapter in Dungeon Slayer's sequel.’
Unfortunately, there had been no news from the Dungeon Slayer developers for over five years.
All that remained were the users’ wild speculations.
There was no official word about Demon Sovereign.
“Burnt Sweet Potato, are you going to keep ignoring me?”
As I stared at the Dungeon, a sharp voice interrupted me from beside me.
It was the forehead girl with bright red hair tied into a high ponytail.
“When are your team members coming? Be honest—you lied to me, didn’t you? It was all a sham!”
Seron Parmia.
She had come to me the evening before I finalized my team.
「Uh, ahem, hey, Burnt Sweet Potato. I heard your team is short one person.」
She called me out, and I wondered what she wanted to say.
Seron kept clearing her throat awkwardly as she spoke.
「Maybe, well… I could join your team… if that’s alright.」
Seron had been going around trying to find other teams until the very end.
But no one wanted to recruit her.
At this rate, she would end up in a "leftover" team assigned by the professor.
For Seron, there was no greater humiliation.
Eventually, she set her sights on my team.
Better to join my team, led by someone strong enough to beat half the class, than end up in a leftover team.
Looking at Seron for a moment, I tilted my head.
「Why are you talking like you’re doing me a favor?」
This girl… Did she not understand her position?
「What—what?! I said I’m willing to join your team! You couldn’t even get proper members anyway!」
Then it hit me.
Seron didn’t know the lineup of my team.
That’s why she was acting so high and mighty.
「Our rearguard is Foara Silin.」
「What?」
When I said that, Seron’s face turned into one of sheer disbelief.
She must have heard of Foara before.
The entire academy had been buzzing about the Spirit Lord incident.
Even the third years, let alone the second years, had tried to recruit Foara.
It would be stranger not to know Foara’s name.
And that Foara was on my team.
That alone significantly elevated the value of my team.
「And the vanguard is first-year Aisha Vizbel.」
「W-What?」
Seron was an imperial noble.
There was no way she wouldn’t recognize the name Vizbel.
Her face gradually turned pale.
Only now did she realize that my team was much stronger than she had assumed.
She must have thought I just cobbled together random people.
「I’ve already had plenty of people asking to join my team.」
After the news spread that I had recruited both Aisha and Foara,
several people approached me, asking to join.
Even if they weren’t sure how the team would perform,
they figured it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression on Aisha and Foara early on.
Reputation mattered, after all.
But Seron had been mostly on her own for a while now.
Ever since being ousted from her previous clique, no one wanted to associate with her.
That’s why she hadn’t heard anything about my team’s lineup.
Right now, I had no reason to accept Seron.
She finally started realizing her predicament and took a step back.
「Seron Parmia.」
I called her full name.
Her shoulders flinched, and her previously overconfident demeanor wavered.
「If you want to join the team, that’s not how you ask.」
I gave her a cheerful smile.
「Say it properly. Try again.」
Would she prefer to join a leftover team or our strong one?
If she joined a leftover team, her grades would tank,
and she’d likely become a laughingstock.
There was no way someone as prideful as Seron could endure that.
Her shoulders quivered.
She glared at me with her eyes wide open but soon bit her lip hard.
Her forehead started to turn red, steaming with embarrassment.
But she held back her shame and finally bowed her head to me.
「P-Please, let me join your team.」
「Louder. Properly.」
「Please let me join your team!」
「More desperately.」
「Please, I beg you, let me join your team! Pleeeaaase!」
Had she reached her limit?
「My dad said he’d kick me out if I didn’t get good grades this time. Hic, please, I’m begging you.」
Seeing Seron finally break down and cry, I gave her a nod of approval.
And that’s how Seron joined our team.
“Hah, of course, Burnt Sweet Potato wouldn’t have Foara or Aisha on their team. I’ve been tricked, haven’t I?”
…Is this girl an idiot?
After being humiliated so thoroughly yesterday,
she’s already back to her overconfident self the very next day.
At this point, it seemed like she’d erased yesterday’s events from her memory entirely.
I reached out and grabbed her big mouth.
Her eyes widened in shock as she tried to yell, but I twisted her head to face forward.
“Look carefully. They’re coming.”
Sure enough, Aisha and Foara were approaching.
When Foara saw me, he nodded politely, and Aisha gave me a quick smile.
“…R-Really?”
With her mouth still held shut, Seron mumbled in disbelief.
I let go of her and wiped her drool on her clothes.
“Then who’s the last member?”
Now that she mentioned it, I hadn’t told her.
As I turned my head, the final member walked toward us.
The students around us started to notice, their eyes following the figure.
Their faces lit up with shock and reverence,
while Seron’s face turned slack-jawed, her eyes growing impossibly wide.
“W-What the—!?”
Seron finally became a complete idiot.
“Let me introduce you.”
I gestured toward the person who had just arrived.
They had shining white hair and wore a white uniform with golden embroidery—the only one authorized in the entire Zerion Academy.
“This is the Saint.”
Our team’s final member, the healer.
The Saint, Sirmiel Von Eden.
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HELHEIM SCANS
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