‘Did Gobori say that?’
That the first day would just be about talking and then end.
And that was exactly how it went.
Most of the stories were about their own adventures at the moment they died, but every single one of those stories included me.
So much time passed just from telling my own story.
“This is what I felt back then. If I don’t block it, we die. I have to save the Captain for us to win the battle. When I thought that, my body just moved forward on its own.”
“Ha! I remember that too. All I could think was that we had to save this guy!”
“Me too!”
“Me as well! Hahaha!”
The knights and mercenary corps under my command laughed.
“Ugh, that crazy revenge demon barging through the flames? I really thought we were done for.”
“Pfft. And you actually died, didn’t you?”
“Hahaha!”
The Demons also reminisced about the moments they died at my hands.
Something…
It felt strange.
Demons who died because of me.
Subordinates who died because of demons.
And here they were, sharing a drink together.
This must be one of the common ‘lighthearted things’ in Valhalla.
Hatred.
Revenge.
Grudges held against each other.
None of that existed here in Valhalla.
Everyone laughed and enjoyed themselves, letting those ancient memories fade into the past.
‘Huh?’
Then I noticed something odd.
Everyone here…
‘Don’t they all look familiar?’
Even those I didn’t recognize were people who lived in the same era as me.
There were no famous heroes or villains from the earlier history to be seen.
They were all warriors who had died within roughly the last ten years.
“Uh… Treya?”
“Yes? Speak.”
“Doesn’t it seem strange? Everyone here looks familiar.”
“That’s correct. Is there a problem?”
“This world is supposed to be a channel, right? Then shouldn’t there be heroes from before our time? Like the captains before me, or berserkers who died fighting those captains? They should be here, right? Both died on the battlefield after all.”
I asked Treya.
Diablo cut in with an answer.
“Oh, that? It’s because of the Singularity! Our world! Ah, no, your world! Hillea only achieved the Singularity ten years ago. So they’re not here! Only worlds that have surpassed the Singularity can be invited to Valhalla!”
“Singularity? It’s only been ten years?”
I tilted my head in confusion.
Diablo pulled a chair closer.
“Listen carefully. The concept of war is pretty vague. Like, even if cavemen throw stones at each other and die, they’re warriors. Do you really want to bring all of them here? That’s why there’s a standard. That standard is the Singularity. Got it?”
“You’re asking me? Why are you answering?”
“Hmph! Who cares who says it as long as it’s easy to understand. Why make a fuss?”
“Please disregard this demon’s words. As expected of the Captain. I had the same question. Simply put, only worlds that have surpassed a certain standard—those that have passed the Singularity—are chosen by Valhalla. Our world has only been beyond that standard for ten years. That’s why there are no heroes from earlier eras. Understand?”
“And the reason we passed that standard is because of us—the demons! Haha!”
Diablo, who had been arguing with Treya, said.
You have to pass a certain standard.
‘And the reason for that is the demons?’
I eyed Diablo suspiciously.
“You guys opened the Gate? Because of that, something got connected? Like spatial rifts… or world energies? Something like that?”
“Oh! I thought you were a stick-in-the-mud, but you’re pretty knowledgeable! Impressive, hey!”
Diablo laughed exaggeratedly.
Frowning, Treya interrupted and shook her head.
“That’s not what it means. It means the world grew because demons crossed over. The aftermath caused the world’s growth.”
“The world grew? How?”
“The Singularity is a cataclysm that shakes a world to its core. An awakening. It starts with a collision where many heroes can be born. The demons here were just the catalyst. Did you see while you were here? From A to I. There were about 540 Gates, right?”
“Ah, right. I saw them. All those Gates are channels?”
“Exactly. From A to I, nine universes. 540 Gates. 540 worlds. Many channels are still inactive. Our channel wasn’t active until ten years ago either.”
“Ah, got it. So there’s cause and effect. That explains a lot.”
I nodded in rough understanding.
Now that I thought about it, the pig we met in the square said the same thing.
He could cook dishes from all 540 worlds.
The Gates we saw in the square must have been portals to those worlds.
“So it’s because of us! Thanks to us coming to your world, it broke through in one go!”
“We did it ourselves. Don’t call it thanks.”
“Hmph! That’s easy to say. Before we came, Hillea was so peaceful it was boring. Could that world exist without us?”
“Well, it was probably a decent world.”
“Oh, come on. You never give in! No wonder you never had a date at this age!”
“Hey! He’s drawing his sword! Drawing swords in the channel! Stop him! Why are you laughing? Ack!”
Diablo and Treya bickered.
Well.
Diablo wasn’t wrong.
In all history, there had never been an event as dramatic as the demon invasion.
If you look for cause and effect, Diablo’s words held some truth.
“But… who killed you? The notorious demons must have died first. You wouldn’t have died by human hands, would you?”
“Yeah! Someone like you, a Swordmaster, wouldn’t have died at a human’s hand. You must have died by a demon. Who was it? I’m curious!”
Treya and Diablo asked amid the ruckus.
The hall grew quiet.
Everyone turned to me.
I took a tense breath.
‘Can I even say it?’
‘What if it causes a fight?’
I hesitated briefly before speaking.
“Gustavo Sadaniel. His thirteenth son.”
“Huh? Sadaniel?”
“Yeah. He was my final hunt. He fought well but got injured… and that was the end. When I came to, I was already in Valhalla.”
I answered bitterly.
Gustavo Sadaniel.
He was a demon who hid cunningly among the others, constantly on the run.
At the end, he tried to open the Gate with human blood but was caught.
Fighting him was my last battle.
Sigh…
Looking back, it’s ridiculous.
My sword broke at the last moment.
As I told Dulb, I never had a bond with a legendary sword, and that lack ended up costing me my life.
“By the way… didn’t Sadaniel come here? He must be dead too. Or is he still in the game?”
I looked around.
Sadaniel couldn’t have survived.
I had embedded my broken sword and shards into his heart.
Even for a Great Demon, survival would be hard.
“Unfortunately, the only hero who came today is the Captain. Those who survived the Captain’s attack or died late and are still active in the game. Don’t worry about it. The Captain has done enough.”
Treya refilled my cup to comfort me.
I let out a bitter smile and exhaled.
“I should have killed him for sure. That was my mistake.”
“Heh heh. It’s okay. The past stays in the past. That’s Valhalla.”
Clink!
Treya and I toasted with a smile.
But a small regret lingered.
I had vowed to wipe out all demons.
‘Wasn’t this a failure to finish properly?’
Still, it couldn’t be helped.
That world had its own people.
I could only drink and trust they’d manage on their own.
“Khhhhh… Hahaha! Finally!”
“Hm?”
Suddenly, Diablo stood up beside me.
He spewed flames and let out a sinister laugh.
“Sadaniel! My son did it! The Sadaniel I believed in has done it! Hahaha!”
Diablo laughed more ferociously than ever before.
‘What’s this about?’
‘Was he scheming?’
Startled, I gripped my sword, and “Don’t be surprised. It’s a foolish prank.”
“A prank?”
“You’ll see.”
Treya answered casually.
I had no idea what was going on.
“Hahaha! Did you hear? My son Sadaniel did it! Didn’t I say he would? Haha!”
Diablo laughed, pointing at the banquet hall.
The faces of the subordinates darkened instantly.
“Ugh, damn it.”
“Damn!”
“We’re doomed!”
“Eek!”
But the demons’ expressions also grew grim.
Only Diablo laughed at the table.
I frowned holding my sword, and Diablo raised his fist shouting,
“Come on! Everyone who made the bet, show me your levels! You ignored me when I spoke! You have lost! Taste the defeat I bestow! Hahaha!”
Diablo raised his fist and cheered.
“Damn. I thought Lucyphia would do it. I lost by betting on you!”
“Oh? Why blame me? Did anyone die because they wanted to?”
“Ah, take it all, demons! Eat your fill and live long!”
“Woo! El Diablo!”
“Woo!”
The subordinates and demons jeered.
Now I understood the situation.
A bet.
It seemed Diablo had made a bet on who would kill me.
“Hmm! Smell that! Your failure and rage make a perfect hymn! Suffer even more! Sing for me! Hahaha!”
Diablo climbed onto the table and laughed.
“Woo!”
“Pervert!”
“Math nerd!”
Dodging food and objects flying everywhere, the red demon remained composed amid the jeers.
“It’s too soon to be disappointed! The match everyone’s been waiting for! The big match we’ve only imagined with words! The fight of the century is yet to come!”
“Huh?”
But Diablo grabbed me.
I awkwardly climbed onto the table, and
“In the blue corner! Hell’s King El Diablo! John Connor! Hillea’s first and only Swordmaster Sid! The legendary duel left unfinished before! Here in Valhalla, we settle it! Put up your levels, fools! I bet on myself! Hahaha!”
Diablo laughed as he raised my hand.
Unfinished before?
That sounded unpleasant.
“Are you sure you’re remembering correctly? I won fair and square. Then you cursed me, saying you’d endure forever, cursing my descendants, and even enjoy eternity as a fleeting game, didn’t you?”
“Hey! Don’t recite someone else’s last words! That’s cheating in Valhalla! So embarrassing! Ugh!”
Diablo burst out laughing but then flinched.
“Hahaha! It’s a kind of embarrassing history! I wonder why I thought I was cool back then!”
“What’s the point of last words if we meet again here? It gets awkward!”
“The Swordmaster landed a blow! Haha!”
“Chuunibyou! Chuunibyou!”
As Diablo flinched, the other demons sneered.
‘Was this some unspoken rule?’
Diablo’s face flushed red at my words.
Ah, his face was always red.
“Anyway, don’t be ridiculous, mortal! I was careless back then! Trying to run away, huh? Scared now? If you are, you can run! Pfft!”
“Scared?”
I couldn’t believe my ears.
Diablo was my nemesis, someone I fought to the death with.
I drank my cup dry, then smashed it on the floor with a clang!
“Oh!”
“Swordmaster!”
“Tough!”
Everyone watching cheered.
This wasn’t a sign of anger.
It was common in taverns, a way of accepting a challenge.
“You’re asking for it. You’re about to die again.”
This was the signal before a big fight.