As Ian's "strategy meeting" continued, the expressions of the alliance leaders gradually became more complicated.

At last, he finished speaking.

"Any questions?"

Everyone's gaze turned toward Moiken.

His mouth had looked like it had been itching to speak for a while now, and he immediately asked,

"Do you already know the identity of the enemy?"

"No."

"Then how can you be so certain everything will happen exactly as you say?"

"There aren't any demons among the enemy."

Ian answered as though he were stating the obvious.

"...?"

"And how are you so certain of tha—"

Would they really put demons into the second Defense phase?

The appeal of a defense game lay in its steadily increasing difficulty. Well, that was true of most games.

The developers of Reverse Dungeon had been insane enough to throw a Demon Archduke into the tutorial, but they hadn't played tricks all the way to the end.

Of course, he couldn't say that out loud.

So Ian gave the only answer they had no choice but to accept.

"God appeared in my dream last night and told me. Next question."

"The route is so complicated. I'm not sure I'll be able to memorize it..."

The Fairy Queen shrank her small shoulders.

The fairies' speed and stealth were tremendous assets. Their loyalty to the Fairy Queen was another. But if she herself lacked confidence, she would naturally have little confidence in the orders she gave.

Ian reassured her.

"It's fine. I'll stay in contact through the elementals."

"Hm, I thought so."

Moiken nodded knowingly.

Shouldn't you be the one worrying?

Why was he acting as if remote supervision was guaranteed?

"Don't rely on the elementals too much. Honestly, it's best if you move before I tell you to change routes. If there are mamool nearby, I won't be able to send commands through the elementals."

"Aren't there always mamool nearby? According to your predictions."

"Exactly."

"..."

So the elementals were nothing more than insurance for emergencies.

Ian lowered his hand to the center of the map.

Tap.

"This is the final bastion."

The Mermaid Queen, who had been quietly reviewing her responsibilities under her breath, looked up.

Even Louise, who had been staring relentlessly at the map, raised her head.

Everyone was looking at Ian.

"If we fail to hold this point, everyone dies."

In Ian's eyes, the dots scattered across the map were people.

People moving endlessly.

Lives entrusted to him.

Lives?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

But Ian didn't want to lose them.

Soon the meeting room doors opened, and the alliance leaders departed.

Each headed toward the sector under their command.

Only Keith and Ian remained inside.

"Hoo..."

A quiet sigh escaped Ian's lips.

Keith stepped behind him.

Ian tilted his head backward until it rested against Keith's abdomen. Still seated, he leaned back and stared up at him.

"Are you tired?"

"No."

"You are tired."

"..."

"Wouldn't it be better to get some sleep?"

"..."

The answer didn't matter.

Keith knew exactly how many nights Ian had gone without sleep.

He lowered his head.

Then he comforted his master in the way he liked best.

The Tomer tribe was a sturdy species with the appearance of bears, the legs of elephants, and the shells of turtles.

Their eyesight was poor, but their sense of smell was exceptional. With it, they could pursue prey for half a day without losing the trail.

They communicated through scents released from the soles of their feet.

This way.

Hurry.

The day a command was issued to all mamool—

There is a treasure hidden in the Dark Forest. Find it and offer it to me.

—the Tomer tribe immediately sensed opportunity.

No race was better at finding things that were hiding or fleeing.

And this was the Demon King's command.

Who knew?

If they found the treasure and presented it, perhaps he would turn them into demons.

Found it.

The treasure is ours!

The Tomer tribe silently scraped at the ground, releasing scents of excitement.

A dense human smell.

The "treasure" was a human.

The most beautiful and strongest human.

The Tomer tribe never questioned how they would identify it.

The Demon King had said they would know the moment they saw it.

Their eyesight was terrible, but they possessed magnificent noses. Surely such a human would have a special scent.

How delicious must a human be for even the Demon King to desire it?

The Tomer chief secretly planned to lick it just once.

Surely nobody would notice that much...

Sniff, sniff!

Following the human scent, they dug into the earth with their sharp claws.

The tightly packed soil crumbled like minced flesh with a single swipe.

The sweet smell grew stronger.

Mamool loved blood and flesh.

Among all prey, the races of the Middle Realm were delicacies.

But some meats were more special than others.

How many demons could truly resist human flesh?

As they dug deeper, the human scent stabbed into their nostrils.

Yet something like a wall prevented them from reaching their prey.

One impatient Tomer shoved its snout forward first.

Their finest tools weren't their claws.

They were their teeth.

Crunch!

The mamool smashed through the wooden barrier with its enormous jaws.

Stale air burst upward from below.

A dizzyingly sweet scent flooded out.

There was definitely a human underneath.

The Tomer tribe shoved their snouts in one after another, snarling as each tried to descend first.

Crack.

Crunch.

Creak.

Busy baring their teeth and growling at one another, they never noticed the suspicious sounds beneath their feet.

Then—

Craaack!

The ground beneath them collapsed.

The wooden boards supporting their weight shattered into pieces.

The fall itself wasn't severe.

The pit was shallower than the height of their heads.

Their thick necks remained above ground while the rest of their bodies sank into the hole.

And the Tomer tribe was enormously strong.

There was no way a pit like this could trap them.

More importantly, something cushioned the bottom.

Something wet and ragged that reeked of humans.

The Tomer tribe recognized it immediately.

Human clothing.

"...?"

Where had their treasure gone?

Then a human voice sounded from outside the pit.

"."

The mamool failed to react.

The pile of clothing that had smelled so delicious suddenly released a horrifying stench.

The Tomer tribe's exceptional sense of smell betrayed them.

The revolting odor was unbearable.

They clawed at their faces and retched.

Pabababak!

Something rained down upon them.

Only afterward did they realize what it was.

Burning arrows.

Whoosh!

Using the oil-soaked clothing as kindling, the flames exploded upward.

The smell was no longer the problem.

Instinct took over.

They had to escape.

But there was an obstacle.

Their own kin.

The Tomer climbing out of the pit blocked everyone else's path.

"Move!"

The humans who had attacked them were outside.

They themselves were burning alive.

Mamool did not possess the patience to wait for others to leave first.

Roaring furiously, the Tomer trampled one another and dragged each other down.

Massive bodies crushed and stomped their own companions.

The pit they had dismissed as shallow instantly became a hellish swamp.

By the time they escaped, only half the Tomer that had originally arrived remained.

Filled with rage, they charged after the prey that had dared injure them.

They didn't even need to lower their noses to the grass.

The enticing scent filled the air.

Human scent.

And elf scent.

The mixed trail stretched in a single direction.

The Tomer tribe sprinted through the forest on all fours.

Elves?

No matter how fast they were, they barely reached a mamool's waist.

They couldn't have gone far.

Dense leaves and branches blocked the Tomers' vision, but it didn't matter.

They didn't rely on their eyes.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

As their speed increased, even the trees ceased to be obstacles.

Trunks shattered and snapped apart whenever they collided with them.

Like a magical force plowing through the forest itself, they charged toward the strengthening scent.

Then suddenly the view opened up.

...!?

Stop!

A cliff.

Across the gap, dozens of elves stood waiting with bows drawn.

But the larger problem was themselves.

I can't stop...! Behind us!

Even as they tried to halt, the momentum of their charge carried them forward.

The lead Tomers stumbled helplessly, taking several uncontrolled steps.

Then it was over.

Crunch.

The few who somehow managed to stop were rammed from behind by their charging kin.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

.

.

.

The elves observing the scene moved on.

Each carried a human mage on their back as they headed toward their next destination.

They descended into the dizzying depths below the cliff.

"Aaaagh!"

"Urgh! Stop strangling my neck! Are all human mages as cowardly as you?"

No.

They simply walked down the cliff face as though it were a staircase.

After descending fifteen steps, they reached a rock protruding from the cliff.

Moiken, commander of the Elf Rangers, stepped onto it and leaped toward the opposite cliff wall.

Tap!

A perfect landing.

Moiken felt a surge of pride.

"As expected of Ian. He has excellent judgment. No one but us elves could move through terrain like this."

"But Ian isn't an elf. Even if he knew this terrain existed, how did he know we'd be able to cross it?"

Hikan, the deputy commander of the rangers, asked.

The answer came from the mage riding on Moiken's back.

"Lord Ian knows everything."

The elves accepted the explanation.

And before the all-knowing Ian could start criticizing them for being slow, they decided they should get moving.