That Day, Thunder City Welcomed Its King

That Day, Thunder City Welcomed Its King

Thunder City, in Duke Campbell's Territory of the Ryan Kingdom, was as peaceful and bustling as ever today.

Steam-belching ships came and went at the harbor. Bare-chested laborers hauled crates and bundles of goods from the decks to markets and workshops, while every stall beneath colorful dyed cloth was crammed full of strange little trinkets.

And all of this prosperity, along with the glory that came with it, was owed to the man riding a tall warhorse and leading his knights down the festively decorated main road.

His name was Aaron Campbell. From the name alone, it was not hard to guess that he was the lord of this place.

And not only that.

Besides being a vassal of King Ryan, he was also a Chosen One ordained by Saint Siss... what people commonly called a Hero.

Not long ago, the Demon Lord who had been wreaking havoc outside Thunder City had died beneath his sword.

Though already seventy years old, his martial prowess had not diminished in the slightest from his prime.

Many speculated that the esteemed Grand Duke Campbell might have already broken through the Diamond-level bottleneck and stepped into the ranks of Amethyst, perhaps even Master! "Praise Saint Siss! Praise the Holy Light!"

"Long live Grand Duke Campbell!"

"Long live the Grand Duchy!"

"Long live the Ryan Kingdom!"

Cheers, applause, and whistles!

As they watched the triumphant heroes return, the youths lining both sides of the street tossed flowers into the air, while red-faced old farmers and townsfolk cheered with all their strength.

In response to the citizens' enthusiasm, Grand Duke Campbell gave a slight nod. A fitting smile rested on his sharply defined face, making him seem like a stern father—dignified yet kindly.

The citizens of Thunder City rather liked him.

Saint Siss's devout followers, especially, practically wanted to rush forward and kiss his shoes.

However—

Not everyone was willing to credit everything Thunder City possessed to Grand Duke Campbell and his Trident Knights.

In the corridor of City Hall.

The pot-bellied mayor lit a cigarette. His gaze passed through the half-drawn curtains and landed on the aged yet handsome duke with undisguised envy.

"Look at those nauseating idiots... as if the sun had been crowed into existence by a rooster. There wasn't even a sun in the First Era."

Not daring to stare at that lord for too long, he guiltily reached out and pulled the curtains fully shut.

Watching Mayor Mill mutter curses under his breath, the gentleman in a bowler hat smiled and remarked in a casual tone.

"I think you're just jealous."

His name was Yang Andes, a well-known wealthy merchant of Thunder City.

Just an hour ago, the City Council had solicited opinions on the controversial "Commercial Tax Increase Draft"... mainly opinions on punctuation and wording.

His old friend Mill had finally finished brushing off the protesting shopkeepers, farm owners, and ship captains, while he himself had been one of those brushed off.

"Jealous? What kind of joke is that!"

Displeased by his old friend's teasing, Mayor Mill snapped irritably.

"I'm not jealous. Thunder City has always been like this, ever since Isaac's time! It was even far more interesting back then! But we didn't thank the lord for feeding us. We fought Lizardmen in the swamps and clawed out one massive estate after another from between their teeth! That's how Thunder City came to be what it is today!"

"But no one lived through that, did they?" Yang comforted him before cutting him off. "All right, let's not talk about this. You wouldn't want some passerby to accidentally overhear and then accidentally label you a 'traitor who worships Outer Gods,' would you?"

Outer Gods.

It generally referred to every god besides Saint Siss, whether the ancient gods of the First Era or Isaac, whose name could not even be spoken.

"Tch."

Mill shrank back slightly.

That had indeed struck a sore spot.

Whether or not he believed in that damned Saint Siss, he had to pretend to be incomparably devout.

Though it was not entirely an act.

He still prayed and donated money.

Seeing that his old friend had calmed down, Yang spoke unhurriedly.

"At least he really did defeat the Demon Lord. I don't think there's anything wrong with him as a ruler."

"There's plenty wrong," Mill said, shaking his head before continuing with a sigh. "The Demon Lord is dead, and the Demon Lord Territory will disappear soon. Then, little by little, all the adventurers in the city will lose their jobs. After that, the taverns and blacksmith shops will follow. My accountant has calculated it—we'll lose at least a quarter of our income... perhaps more."

The Ryan Kingdom was the Land of Knights, but no city could make money off knights who did nothing but strut around.

Compared to the flashy Trident Knights, the "dungeon" was Thunder City's true specialty. Only the "dungeon" could lure sixteen-year-old boys from the countryside here, and keep them coming in an endless stream by the thousands.

They either brought valuable treasures back from the dungeon, or blamed their bad luck for being left inside by monsters.

An invasion from hell? Who cared about that! This wasn't the Os Empire, right beside the front lines! If he had the chance, he would rather try keeping a Succubus himself! But now that the Demon Lord was dead, adventurers with money and ability would soon rush off without stopping to the next city with a dungeon, while those too poor to buy a ship ticket would become destabilizing elements that disrupted public order.

"They'll have to learn to adapt to a new life," Yang said softly. "No one can live in the past forever... not even you and me."

"Let's hope so."

The mayor sighed and stared at the ceiling as he muttered to himself.

"You know... wouldn't it be nice if there were Demon Lords who followed the rules a little better? Like, they stay underground on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and we go down. Then they come up on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays."

Or better yet, they could just not come up at all.

After all, even if you took Thunder City, you couldn't possibly hold it, right? "And everyone rests together on the seventh day?"

Yang burst out laughing.

"Would that still be a Demon Lord?"

Adventurers pursued dungeons for faith, for glory, for ascension, and to become those favored by Saint Siss.

Logically speaking, Demon Lords probably had demands of their own as well. After going to all that trouble to invade the surface, they surely weren't doing it just for fun.

Mayor Mill clearly thought he sounded stupid saying that. He sighed at the ceiling again.

"That's true."

Sometimes, he could not help wondering what Thunder City would be like today if the Isaac Dynasty had never fallen and had continued all the way to the present.

But such things could only be left to imagination.

After all, even the history he knew might not be the closest thing to the truth...

Meanwhile, the Knights' formation had already crossed the main street, followed closely by conscripted troops carrying large-caliber rifles.

Unlike the soldiers under the lord's command, most of them came from farms, mines, docks, and similar places. They only gathered when the lord needed them.

Though the cheers and applause of the crowd surrounded the lord and his knights, being able to march over petals that had once landed on a Chosen One's shoulders was no small honor for ordinary people like them.

At the very least, the pride on their faces was genuine.

Some rejoiced, while others worried.

As the formation carrying their fire pokers marched down the street in neat steps, the tavern across the road was packed with people, its chattering din like sparrows in a tree.

This tavern was called the Sword and Broken Sword Pavilion. Apparently, it got its name because the owner had once hung a sword outside the entrance.

Later, the sword was stolen. But the thief had not taken it for free—he had hung up a broken sword in its place.

People guessed that perhaps it had not been theft, but borrowing. As for why it had never been returned, it was because the broken sword's owner had tragically died in the dungeon.

Though the name was not particularly auspicious, it was the closest tavern to the Adventurers' Guild and stood directly behind it. As a result, plenty of adventurers waiting for work gathered here to pass the time.

Over time, it had become a true "Quality Plaza" and "matchmaking hall."

Occasionally, people would also ask the bartender behind the counter to post jobs that could not be registered with the Adventurers' Guild, yet were not shady enough to require going to the Thieves' Guild—work that drifted through the gray area between black and white.

It was only just past noon, far too early for drinking under normal circumstances.

But unfortunately, because the Demon Lord was dead, the number of dungeon-related commissions had plummeted. A huge group of adventurers with no work could only come here to drown their sorrows.

And after getting drunk, some loose-lipped fools would start shouting.

Perhaps this was what Professor Eunos meant—

Sometimes, even if humanity was left alone, they would sell their own souls to demons.

Without even realizing it.

"Fuck the Campbell Family! Why did that idiot have to kill the Demon Lord?! He has no idea what a hardworking yet useless Demon Lord means to Thunder City!"

An oak mug slammed heavily onto the table. A man with a battle axe on his back bellowed rudely, spraying spit several meters away.

The man carrying a bow beside him was probably his companion. He hurriedly tried to calm the drunken fellow down.

"But that thing had already come out... If the lord's army just ignored it, wouldn't the citizens' taxes have been paid for nothing?"

"That's exactly the problem!" The axe-wielding man's eyes bulged as he shouted, red-faced and thick-necked. "If that idiot really cared about his people, he should've chopped off the Demon Lord's Minions and then let the Demon Lord go back—"

His teammate quickly clamped a hand over the loose-lipped fool's mouth and cursed in terror.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?!"

Saying that a Demon Lord should be spared on land illuminated by holy light—if those fanatical believers heard him, they would surely invoke the name of God and rush over to carry out Justice Execution on the spot.

Fortunately, everyone sitting here was an adventurer. They pretended not to hear it, and some even thought the idiot had a point.

Wasn't that true? Dungeons produced glittering magic crystals, along with all kinds of things unavailable on the surface and found only underground, even in the depths of hell... They were like enormous gold mines.

No.

Gold mines could not even begin to compare to them.

The former were the private property of noble lords and landowners, while the latter belonged to everyone with dreams.

Of course, many adventurers also admitted to themselves that they were merely jealous.

If they truly had a chance to kill a Demon Lord, they would not spare a thought for any of this nonsense. They would definitely be the first to rush forward and carry out Justice Execution.

After all, it was a chance to receive the favor of a god!

Grand Duke Campbell, already a Chosen One, might not care, but for people like them who had been stuck at their own bottlenecks for far too long, this was practically their only path forward.

They wanted to improve so badly!

They dreamed of it!

As everyone chattered noisily, almost no one noticed a handsome young man enter from outside and take a seat near the door.

They never would have imagined it.

The "special-class merit" they had been longing for was sitting right beside them...