Reverse Dungeon

Keith hadn’t done anything special.

At least, that was how he saw it. He had merely done what needed to be done.

When the merfolk soldiers came to escort them to the battlefield, his only concern had been resolving the strange phenomenon that made Ian appear to shine alone.

Even the smallest things stirred an odd sense of happiness within him — Ian casually touching his ears, climbing onto a soldier’s back without the slightest embarrassment while the others cheered for him. Those trivial moments formed the core of the phenomenon.

Most likely, it was the influence of the curse.

By tonight, it should naturally disappear.

Keith’s mind remained calm.

But then the merfolk, inside the throne room itself, dared to direct their resentment [N O V E L I G H T] toward Ian.

For the first time in a long while, Keith understood what it meant for his blood to run cold.

He had never saved merfolk before. They lived in the depths of the sea, far removed from him, and even if he had encountered them, he would never have gone out of his way to help.

To Keith, they were little more than beings that did not exist.

Not enemies deserving immediate execution like the race of traitors — but cowards nonetheless. During the war against the demons, they had hidden beneath the sea and protected only their own kind.

Keith had no use for cowards.

As long as they did not obstruct his path, he simply ignored them. They had chosen to remove themselves from the world, and Keith treated them accordingly.

As expected. A race incapable of gratitude.

Confined to the room under guard by merfolk soldiers, Keith quietly organized his thoughts.

Ian, as the one carrying out God’s will, had forgiven them.

Keith could not.

Though he respected Ian deeply, he believed forgiveness alone solved nothing. Reward and punishment had to be absolute.

Keith showed no mercy to those who abandoned their own people to save themselves, even if they claimed to serve God. They wore human skin, but their hearts were filth no different from demons. Leave them alive long enough, and eventually they would poison others as well.

It was better to cut them down early.

The prophecy said all races must unite to drive out the demons.

Ian acted as though he lacked deep faith, but in truth, he embodied God’s teachings better than anyone else.

The fools within the Vatican had already declared the war over. Since humanity failed to stop the demons from conquering the middle world, they claimed mankind had lost. Now they taught that humans should save only their own kind and focus solely on survival.

They never stated it so plainly, of course.

But what difference was there, really, between that and teaching future holy knights that humans save only humans?

Keith himself had once believed every word spoken by the Vatican.

But the war was not over.

The demons had conquered the middle world, yes, but they had failed to exterminate its native races completely. Humans and other races alike had survived by hiding within their territories, waiting for the day they could fight again.

When Ian first spoke of reducing demonic corruption and destroying the Life Vessels, Keith had understood those words literally.

Only after watching Ian’s actions did he finally realize the truth.

Ian was not merely destroying the Life Vessels.

He was saving the other races as well.

Ian was still following the prophecy.

He exterminated the demons tormenting each race and freed them from demonic rule. It aligned perfectly with God’s command that all races unite together.

Ian himself never explained any of this.

He truly doesn’t reveal everything about himself.

He was nothing like the rumors surrounding him.

Keith had noticed it already — despite how attached Ian seemed to that useless Elf merchant, he never forced himself upon her. Instead, he patiently tried to win her heart little by little.

That, in Keith’s eyes, was the proper way to pursue someone.

Not the disgraceful behavior that would justify calling him a “playboy.”

The moment the thought crossed his mind, Keith frowned slightly.

There was no reason to waste time thinking about the Elf.

He shifted his attention back to what mattered.

Ian was asleep.

The castle had fallen silent deep into the night.

Keith placed a hand against the high windowsill. Thick iron bars blocked the opening tightly enough that even a small bird could never squeeze through.

Though, naturally, there were no birds in this underwater kingdom.

Without hesitation, Keith gripped the bars with his bare hands.

There was no need to wear his armor. It would only weigh him down. The only thing he carried was the sword hanging at his waist.

He applied pressure.

The iron bent effortlessly.

With a sharp motion, he tore the bars apart as though drawing open curtains before ripping away the surrounding stone frame as well.

Stone crumbled beneath his hands like brittle clay.

It took less time than brewing tea to create an opening large enough for a knight to pass through.

Keith grasped the edge of the ruined window and lifted himself upward with ease, as though gravity itself held no authority over him.

A moment later, he stood outside the castle.

Hanging from the shattered frame, he slipped his feet into a narrow crack in the outer wall and pressed himself flat against the stone.

Their room had been located on the third floor.

A merfolk guard passed directly below him.

Yet the soldier failed to notice the knight clinging silently to the wall. Even Keith’s shadow vanished beneath the castle’s darkness.

Only after the guard disappeared did Keith slowly scan his surroundings.

His gaze settled upon an upper terrace.

Light spilled through the curtains of a nearby room.

Someone was still awake.

Only royalty would use chambers with a terrace of that size, and since the princess was the sole surviving member of the royal family, there was little room for doubt.

Keith measured the distance once.

Then he leapt.

His fingers dug into the stone wall like hooks driven into a cliff face. With light, effortless movements, he scaled the wall and landed soundlessly upon the terrace.

Quietly, he drew back the lace curtains.

Two people.

Standing close together.

Before either occupant could react, Keith crossed the room.

“What should I do...? I shouldn’t have chased them away. I should’ve thanked them first. They must hate me now... I’m doomed...”

“No, Your Highness. It’s not too late. Tomorrow morning, simply admit your mistake and summon the warriors again.”

“No, they’ll never forgive me. I always ruin everything... Huh?!”

“Shh.”

Keith pressed the edge of his sword against the merfolk attendant’s slick scales.

At the same time, he raised a finger to his lips.

The mermaid princess froze instantly.

The attendant’s gills fluttered frantically.

“W-Wait... what is this? You’re Sir Keith, aren’t you? How did you escape the room...?”

Keith ignored him completely.

His gaze rested solely upon the mermaid princess.

This was precisely the sort of ruler Keith despised most — one who wielded authority carelessly and without responsibility.

If Keith truly wished it, every merfolk within this castle could be dead before dawn.

They had turned their resentment toward the very savior who rescued them, without even the slightest attempt at reason.

“Kyarakus was a catastrophe that killed your family and countless merfolk within this city. Is that correct?”

The mermaid princess trembled violently.

Keith had no interest in hearing her thoughts.

“Answer only yes or no.”

“...Yes...”

“Lord Ian risked his life to destroy that calamity. Correct?”

“Yes...”

“The one who killed your family was Lord Ian?”

“No...”

Her voice shook apart.

“Do you resent Lord Ian?”

“No... sniff...”

“Did you truly believe that someone capable of killing Kyarakus could be restrained by something as pathetic as a prison cell?”

The mermaid princess’s eyes widened.

“You knew Lord Ian was merciful. Even after listening to your accusations, he never became angry. So you assumed that no matter how unfairly you treated him, no matter how much blame you placed upon him, you would remain safe. Didn’t you?”

The princess could not answer.

Truthfully, she had not thought that deeply when she broke down crying in the throne room.

Yet the white knight standing before her felt almost divine, and every word he spoke sounded terrifyingly correct.

“I genuinely cannot understand,” Keith said quietly, “why creatures as repulsive as you deserve to continue breathing.”

He tilted his head slightly.

The next question came not from anger, but simple curiosity.

“Can you explain to me why you deserve to survive?”