Volume 4 Chapter 40 Deep Within The Fortress
Two drones.
One shows Rangella and the others wreaking havoc outside the fortress, while the other captures Horace doing the same inside.
The scene of Rangella and her group causing chaos outside is exhilarating, with large-scale destruction of towers and makeshift buildings in the spacious area.
Horace, who entered the fortress...
"Well then..."
He was making a ruckus, blasting soldiers with dual pistols. He felt someone might remark, "I knew it," but asking Ivan would likely yield a meaningless, "That's just how he's always been."
"This fortress structure... Could it be?"
Horace seemed to realize something but wasn't certain. Either way, he continued destroying everything, so his realization hardly mattered.
"I'll reach the deepest part soon. Even though it's called a fortress, it's built like a dungeon's depths—not designed for surface use."
Every being has a concept of necessary space for combat.
His attack and how to counter the opponent's.
Strategy involves shaping the environment to land attacks, but without indirect tactics, you need space for direct combat.
However, this was prepared in a dungeon's depths, with a different purpose than surface structures.
Few would reach here, so overwhelming space isn't needed for such opponents.
The boss room is large, and the external defenses are formidable, but the fortress interior is minimally spacious. It's designed to win through quality.
...Though, even with quality, it doesn't change the fact that everything sent out is instantly destroyed.
"...Huh? Is this the fortress's deepest part?"
He found the door and opened it with both hands.
Inside was what could be called an 'audience chamber.'
The carpet and chandelier exuded history, with a throne placed on a raised platform at the back.
A large man in Climson armor sat on the throne, a sacred wooden sword beside him.
"The boss fight started, and you're here so quickly. I'll give you credit."
The man grabbed his scabbard, stood, and walked toward Horace.
"I'm Clim Fourclover Apollyon, emperor of the Military Nation of Apollyon. I wonder if people today know the name Apollyon I?"
"...If I answer with my knowledge, Apollyon I didn't do much... Albia II was flashier, but still decent."
"Hmmm, you bring up my father's era. You're quite erudite... young man."
Clim almost said "boy" but corrected himself, perhaps realizing Horace's true age of 27.
"...The Military Nation of Apollyon. Formed 2,200 years ago by merging four great nations... are you the same entity?"
"You'll understand once we fight."
"I see. I don't fully grasp the dungeon boss selection, but I've heard 'sealing' power is involved. Is this dungeon fitting?"
"You already consider it the same, huh... Talking with someone of superior intellect is exhausting, just like my father."
"Not as much as your father."
"True. I wouldn't want anyone equal to him."
Clim drew his sword.
"The legendary sword Yggdrasil... I'll draw it from the start. No need to fumble against you."
"A sword granting overwhelming 'resources.' I'm looking forward to it. But..."
Horace stored his pistols and drew a sword with ten tubes on the hilt.
"Your strength doesn't matter. My victory is already decided."
"...I see. Is this some routine? Come, challenger. I'll show a battle worthy of a dungeon's final boss."
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