"This is insane! This is insane! Seriously insane! A monster like this actually exists in this world! There's really a crazy bastard like this in this world!"
A feeling close to ecstasy filled Fremain.
In all the lives he had lived until now, had he ever possessed this much excitement and brilliance?
He had fought the same opponent countless times, only to be slain as if by predestined script.
This unknown battle had come upon him suddenly — he who had harbored an unfounded conviction that battle was fundamentally worthless.
The alarm bells of danger ringing through his mind and the fury urging him to strike down his enemy had given him a life as bright as light itself.
"I take offense at being called a monster. Those aren't kind words to direct at a lady."
"No, you're a monster. A genuine, bona fide monster!"
Fremain's words could be understood in their own way.
Isla's physique was extraordinarily large even for an insect, and her raw physical strength could only be described as abnormal.
Beyond that, her abilities remained a mystery, and it was readily apparent they did not arise from any legitimate principle.
And then there was her nature. She conducted herself as a proper lady in daily life, yet as a hero, it was inconceivable that she would not relish combat.
Driven by the exhilaration of fighting for her nation and her king, she could truly be called a monster.
But Fremain, standing against her, was equally worthy of the name.
His body spewed endless torrents of flame, and his cunning clamped onto enemies like venomous fangs.
In the world of Brave Questus, the fall of numerous kingdoms had been attributed to this demon lord, and the hero's party was said to have paid an enormous price to defeat this creature.
In truth, many players despised this character.
Despite his gaunt male appearance, the madness and malice he harbored within were nothing short of monstrous.
"How uncouth, calling a lady a monster. —I know. Let me silence that eloquent mouth of yours. If I crush your throat, perhaps I'll hear a much sweeter voice, don't you think?"
The torrent of force tore through the ancient tree as effortlessly as scattering twigs.
The hellfire released as it danced flutteringly writhed like a colossal dragon, scorching everything around it.
"Oho, oho, how cruel! It seems you wish for a quick resolution, so I'll grant you that. With you as a burnt offering!"
The battle had reached a stalemate.
But the surrounding damage was accelerating.
Trees fell and burned to ash.
Countless smaller creatures hatched from eggs and surged toward Fremain, as if supporting their queen.
With a casual wave of his hand, Fremain incinerated them all with the malevolent flames he had created. His face twisted with delight, he spread his arms wide.
"Kuhahahahaha! It's hardly fair if only I use pawns!"
Fremain had summoned his monsters.
Hounds that breathed fire.
Straw scarecrows that burned perpetually in an eerie dance.
Red-skinned orcs wielding spears with blazing tips.
Various monsters emerged from the void and arranged themselves around him as if to guard him.
But in the next moment, as if flung aside, those same monsters were hurled away from Fremain's side.
"Tch! —I'm dealing with this freak! You lot, burn those extra flying pests to cinders! All fire magic is allowed! I don't care about anything anymore, just wreck everything!"
"My dear children, please take care of those monsters. Be sure to engage them in groups."
The subordinates of both monsters began fighting, and the destruction of the Great Cursed Realm accelerated.
Inhuman shrieks rose from all directions, accompanied by the cacophony of destruction.
The area was already far beyond what could be called deforestation, reduced to a grim ruin. Every tree had been felled and burned away, and the ground was churned as if from a series of explosions.
The air was thick with the foul stench of charred larvae corpses and monsters on the brink of death, coughing up blood in agony, while out-of-place gold coins gleamed beautifully all over the place.
"To think, a summoning with no cost at all... that remains terribly excessive, doesn't it?"
"Dunno. You're the one who can't do it, so that's your problem. The weak die, the incompetent die. The strong and the capable survive—that's just how the world works, right?"
At those words, Isla simply replied: "Quite so."
The world is cruel.
There is no consideration or nuance here, only those who take and those who are taken from.
Not a shred of lenient rules exist; it is a world governed solely by violence.
Both Isla and Fremain... had come from just such a world.
However victory or defeat was achieved, the reason was always summarized in one phrase: "The loser was weak."
That said, to witness this scale of phenomenon...
The convenient notion that there were absolutely no restrictions on the infinite summoning of subordinates did not exist...
"My, my, so the rules on your side are rather troublesome as well, aren't they?"
"...Tch!"
There was always something called a demerit.
...The monsters of Brave Questus were always bound by numerical limits in battle.
In other words, there was no such thing as a melee; one had to designate an opponent to fight.
And that restriction was not lifted until some form of combat resolution was determined.
This was the reason the monsters summoned earlier had moved away from Fremain's side.
They had hit the enemy group's maximum number limit and were therefore not permitted to engage Isla in combat.
Even with infinitely possible summoning, this was a fatal flaw when facing the armies that Mynoghra possessed.
Of course, Fremain himself is not exempt from this fatal constraint. Furthermore, as a boss character, the option of escape is also forbidden. This means he must continue his battle with Isla until a decisive conclusion is reached. Conversely, Isla can maneuver her combat actions freely. Characters from the Eternal Nations, which always operate in army-sized units, were not subjected to the same restrictions as those from Brave Questus, partly due to the vagueness of their combat descriptions.
"That is why I am being interfered with in this manner."
"Tch! Damn you!!"
Even now, countless spawned larvae rush Fremain, obstructing his vision. Seizing that momentary opening, Isla engages the larvae, then reaches out with a secondary appendage to grasp a monster which is completely defenseless under its constraints, and stabs it with the vicious proboscis protruding from its rear.
The monster convulses violently, its eyeballs swelling grotesquely and taking on a warning hue.
"Hahaha! Hey now, what's that? You lay eggs on just any random target? Come on, it doesn't matter who? You couldn't be more vulgar, you hag!"
There is no composure in Fremain's mocking expression. His sharp mind quickly grasps from this ability that his opponent can also field infinite forces. If he summons his own troops, she will capture the undefended ones, implant eggs, and generate new subordinates. In that case, Fremain would essentially be aiding in the enhancement of his opponent's combat strength. Although he says he can infinitely summon monsters from Brave Questus, Fremain himself obviously has limits. The fire magic used to attack Isla consumes MP to cast. As a boss, MP depletion should normally never occur, but with the battle dragging on this long, even that premise crumbles. On the other hand, ceasing to summon subordinates is also difficult, for the larvae, though weak, are troublesome to deal with, and their swarming toward him would tip the scales in Isla's favor. Thus, he has no other recourse, and a feeling akin to desperation begins to occupy Fremain's heart. Whether knowing his state of mind or not, a torrent of power like a violent storm crashes toward Fremain, mowing down the trees around them.
But the violence that had been unleashed in such disarray suddenly eased.
"If I may ask one question?"
"Hah? Don't waste my time with pointless words. You and I are destined to kill each other anyway—no need for extra talk."
"Oh, do not be so hasty. My King himself insisted that you hear this."
Even as he spoke these words, he created distance, projecting an air of challenge.
Fremain let out a silent sigh of relief in his heart. This meant he finally had room to reassess his strategy.
He had used strong words, but the battle situation was undeniably going poorly. Having this moment to breathe and regroup was immensely valuable.
Moreover, he felt a powerful curiosity toward his opponent.
Fremain considered. It was clear the other party came from an origin similar to their own. If that was the case—from what kind of world had they arrived?
What had they been fighting, and what purpose had brought them to this world?
There was simple curiosity there, but also the shrewdness of wanting to gather information on his enemy.
"Why do you attack us, and the city of Dragontan? Even if you are the Demon Lord's army that brings darkness to the world, I cannot discern any rational reason for a sudden assault."
For the first time, Fremain's words elicited something other than cunning or cruelty from his opponent.
One was surprise. The other was the utmost contempt.
"Oh... Ahahaha! So you don't know? Or were you kept in the dark by your so-called King? Is that it! How tragic... you puppet!"
In that moment, Fremain understood that he was in an overwhelming position of advantage in terms of information.
However, it was equally true that this fact contributed nothing whatsoever to the battle.
"I thank you for the counsel—although, I must say, such words are hardly enough to shake my loyalty."
"Of course I know that."
Isla's words were the truth. Her loyalty was unwavering, and her trust in the king would never impede her actions.
She had never once doubted the king, and even if she herself were to conspire against him, she would gladly offer her life.
Isla held one concern.
That they knew something fatal her side did not.
(Master himself does not know something they do... Is that it? The reason we came to this world is unknown, and the root cause remains a mystery. I do not know how they glimpsed even a fragment of it, but the frustrating part is they are not so easy a foe we can wring the information from.)
Isla felt a pang of shame inwardly.
She could not very well consult Takuto in the heat of battle.
Though they had the advantage in fighting strength, the enemy was not to be underestimated.
Rather, a moment's carelessness or extraneous thoughts could cost them their lives.
"What do you... think of yourselves?"
Fremain's expression as he asked held an almost beseeching air.
At the question suddenly thrown from the other side, Isla tilted her head, but gave a clear answer.
"You question your own nature? --I am Isla, the Hero of Mynoghra. The loyal servant of the king, Takuto Ira. Nothing more, and nothing less."
"Ha! Hahahaha!! A puppet. Arrogant, possessed of a ridiculous pride, and bound by conviction. A wooden puppet who can only say 'yes'."
To those words, Isla nodded firmly.
As if that very fact was the sole truth that made her who she was, the most special thing to be acknowledged...
"I don't like it."
But her answer was utterly incompatible with what Fremain sought.
"Yeah, now I get why you piss me off so much."
He began speaking quietly, yet his words held a distinct and potent anger. "In the end, you lot are free. You serve your king of your own volition. You stand here by your own choice. You could betray your king, but instead, you support him because you want to."
Isla understood, dimly, what had provoked his rage.
Having heard the broad strokes of the game called Brave Questus from Takuto beforehand, she had identified a fatal and terrifying flaw inherent in role-playing games.
No—to call it a flaw was perhaps somewhat tyrannical.
Because that very thing was the purpose of an RPG: it was, after all, a game of pretending to be someone else.
"So, what does it feel like, puppet?" Isla asked, her voice dripping with scorn. "To serve someone of your own free will?"
For the first time, she looked down upon the figure before her with a gaze of pure mockery.
"It feels like I am enveloped in a blissful light. —So, how does it feel to be stripped of freedom, to have only a role forced upon you? You poor, pitiful puppet?"
"It feels like absolute dog shit!"
The battle resumed.
As if rewinding a tape, the same scenes repeated themselves; only their subordinates and the land itself were consumed in the process.
The conflict now included their very words as weapons.
"But here! If I fucking kill you here, then I gain freedom too! For the first time, here and now! I finally get to be free!"
"I see! So that is your will? Your desire? Ah, how wonderful—right now, you are... quite splendid!"
"Shut your mouth, you buzzing insect! Just burn and get the fuck out of here!"
The tide of battle was in Isla's favor.
Were she a common warrior, pride might occasionally leave her vulnerable to a misstep.
But the immense mental fortitude of a hero like Isla would never permit such a mistake.
On the contrary, Fremain—the very opponent Isla was on guard against—found himself bewildered and simultaneously gripped by a sharp sense of urgency at the baffling principles governing this unknown enemy.
(Shit! It’s not burning…! Why? Is it a difference in compatibility?)
Since a while ago, he had bombarded Isla with flame magic again and again.
Its power, objectively speaking, could only be described as devastating—it possessed enough firepower to melt even armor with flame resistance in an instant.
Moreover, the opponent’s race was insectoid. While its appearance far exceeded the norm for insects, there was no other way to describe it but as an arthropod. Typically, magic beasts with this kind of insect attribute were weak to fire.
And yet, Fremain’s flames had failed to pierce Isla’s hard exoskeleton.
No—the point of impact was indeed blackening and emitting puffs of smoke, confirming that damage was being dealt.
But the amount was far less than he had imagined.
(Could it be… that the compatibility difference is entirely separate for them? If so, this is beyond inconvenient!)
The speculation Fremain imagined, and desperately wished not to believe.
Unfortunately, it hit the mark.
In the world of Brave Questus, weaknesses typically belonged to the character.
For example, “weak to fire” or “vulnerable to physical attacks.”
This was a systemic limitation; Fremain himself possessed weaknesses such as “weak to water” and “weak to ice.”
Conversely, in the world of Eternal Nations, weaknesses belonged to the attack itself.
That is to say,
“This unit inflicts 10% additional damage to ice-type units.”
“This magic has a 1.5x effect against evil-aligned units.”
...and so on.
Furthermore, in Eternal Nations, due to the sheer volume and complexity of its skills, little emphasis was placed on such weaknesses.
No matter how strong the enemy, it's not as if targeting a weak point guarantees victory.
A strong unit is simply strong.
Convenient weaknesses or exploitation methods do not exist.
A peerless existence reigns supreme precisely because of its overwhelming nature.
To overturn that gap, you can either deploy a force that surpasses the overwhelming, or painstakingly wear down the opponent through strategy.
That difference is what created the overwhelming disparity between two individuals who, at first glance, seemed to have the worst possible compatibility.
And in their law, "strong" meant an absolute justice that left no room for the vanquished to speak.
"Damn! More monsters! Hurry up and come!"
—Monsters appeared.
"Not enough firepower! Assist me, you lot! Attack one after another! Don't stop until they're completely worn down!"
He crammed summoned subordinates into every possible combat slot in his party and hurled them at Isla one after another.
But from that very moment, his subordinate monsters began to be torn apart, casually and indiscriminately.
All of them ended up inside her stomach.
At the same time, the arm that had been smoldering from fire magic recovered visibly.
He had been watching this recovery ability for a while now. As long as this ability existed, no matter how many powerful spells he unleashed, he could never land a finishing blow.
He clung to a sliver of hope that perhaps she would stop if her belly grew full, but this phenomenon was due to her ability. There would be no limit...
By now, Fremain's hand had been played out on the battlefield.
In combat, Fremain had always annihilated enemies with his overwhelming firepower.
He didn't possess any ultimate techniques with unique abilities like Ice Rock, one of the Four Heavenly Kings.
Before a battle, his preferred method was to crush his opponent's spirit using schemes.
Of course, as one of the Four Heavenly Kings, he possessed top-tier stats, and his power was in no way inferior.
Had his opponent been Atou, the story might have been different.
Lacking any means of recovery, and being someone who became more emotionally volatile when it came to Takuto, she might have exploited that opening to inflict damage and somehow force a draw.
But the one facing him now was not the muck of Atou, but a hero named Isla, Queen of All Insects.
In short... the opponent was too strong.
Overwhelmingly so.
"Do you know why I, Isla, am called a defensive hero?"
Fremain, who had been about to unleash a top-tier spell at that insufferable face speaking so grandly, noticed no phenomenon occurring, and then realized his MP had been completely depleted.
That meant...
"The city's defensive power, restoration via Predation, reinforcement of forces via Larva—though there wasn't time to prepare defensive traps this time. And the more enemies I defeat, the more experience I gain and the stronger I become. While conventional wisdom states that taking a city requires a threefold superiority in forces, to crush me..."
"...you had better bring at least five times the numbers, or I'll be troubled."
This was the moment Fremain's defeat was decided.
"Hah! You're awful pleased with yourself! Already planning your victory?"
Whether from the MP depletion affecting his spirit, Fremain now put up a front with a weak, wavering posture, a stark change from before.
Confirming that the light of will still burned deep within his eyes, Isla began to state one fact with a smile so grotesque it was hard to believe an insect could make such an expression, clicking and mocking.
"The King of Mynoghra can see through everything in his domain. That means, the instant you set foot in this cursed land, every single one of your actions falls within the palm of my king's hand."
Fremain's eyes widened in shock.
Isle gazed at that expression, slowly savoring it, and nodded with heartfelt delight.
"Yes, yes. That's right. Ambush, sabotage, espionage. In this land of Mynoghra, all are meaningless. Even the nightly activities of the populace are known to my king—it appears you were considering sending a separate elite force for assassination or taking important hostages."
"Damn it! You winged insect!"
"Thank you all for your hard work. Every last one of you is deliciously inside my children's stomachs."
With those words, Fremain understood that the last-resort measure they had prepared had been seen through far earlier than expected.
Revealing it at this timing was nothing but petty harassment.
Fremain gritted their teeth.
They had ordered elite subordinates—summoned through their specialty summoning ability—to infiltrate the city and launch a surprise attack, but they never imagined such a countermeasure would be employed against them.
Even granting that the opponent was a hero—no, precisely because they were a hero, national defense would be the highest priority. Fremain had reasoned that upon learning of the city assault, the enemy would inevitably expose some kind of opening during battle against them.
And even if the opponent fought on with iron will, significant damage to the city and its residents could still be inflicted.
From the battles thus far and the conversations held during them, Fremain had deduced that the nation called Mynoghra held deep significance to their enemy, and had schemed to indirectly win this fight by destroying the source of that violent power.
But... that entire strategy had come to naught.
To think the enemy commander was the nation itself, possessing the ability to perceive everything within the country and issue orders to subordinates—there was no greater unfairness than that.
In the previous battle, Isla had called Fremain's subordinate summoning ability excessive, but one had to wonder: was theirs not the far more excessive power?
The result laid bare the difference between an SLG that moves everything in units of nation or army, and an RPG whose story progresses solely through individual narrative.
Fremain let out a long breath. Their MP was already spent, and they were battered from head to toe.
Rather, having unleashed such powerful magic in rapid succession, it was more accurate to say they had held on remarkably well.
Fremain shuffled a step backward.
Then an invisible force pinned their feet to the ground.
You cannot flee from the boss of Brave Questus.
In other words—the boss cannot flee from you.
Here, the battle reached its absolute conclusion.
The loser was one of the Four Heavenly Kings of Brave Questus, the Flame Fiend Fremain.
The hero of Mynoghra. The insects' Isla, who commanded them all.
And to the victor went all things; the loser was stripped of everything.
"A message from my sovereign, Takuto Ira," she declared.
With graceful, deliberate movements—like a lady lifting her skirt hem to curtsey—she raised the massive scythes in both hands.
"Your strategy wasn't bad, but you were simply too weak. That's what he said."
"Hah! Ha ha ha ha ha! Is that so, is it so!"
...He had wanted freedom.
Fremain understood well that he existed within a great, surging tide. Just before coming to this world, when told the truth of the world in that mysterious space, he could finally find reason for every event in his life.
And for the inescapable fate he now found himself in...
...He had wanted freedom.
Not under anyone's orders, not by anyone's will, not even by his own will.
He wanted to be free, even from the mold of "Fremain."
He believed that if he took the world before him, that wish would be granted.
If he could destroy Mynoghra, that unknown nation.
If he could obliterate an entire world... then it could be granted. That was the promise.
But that wish would never be granted.
That opportunity was lost forever.
(Ah, I see. In the end, I was—)
He grinned with bared teeth.
Somehow, it felt refreshing.
The moment he accepted that he was a puppet, the self who had stubbornly sought freedom until now suddenly seemed absurd.
He was and would always be one of the Four Heavenly Kings opposing the Hero—a cunning, cruel Flame Demon named Fremain. Nothing more, nothing less.
Then he would fulfill that role to the utmost.
He would play the part to the very end.
Therefore—
"Then let me pass a message to that 'Takuto Ira' person as well."
"What might that be?"
A massive scythe descended toward his own head.
He was already battered beyond recognition; dodging the attack was out of the question—perceiving it was difficult enough.
But with the last embers of fire remaining within him, Fremain spat out his words as if declaring them to the entire world.
"Go to hell!"
Blades closed in from both sides as if to crush him…
Fremain’s torso was split in two from top to bottom.
—The Flame Demon Fremain was defeated.
"Phew…"
The sigh Isla exhaled met with no answer.
As if the battle moments ago had been a lie, the surroundings fell utterly silent. The shattered earth and the mountain of corpses wordlessly testified to the ferocity of the clash.
Gazing upon the scene and confirming everything had concluded without a hitch, Isla murmured to no one in particular.
"Indeed—the defense is complete. The loss of larvae is painful, but my level has increased as well. I’ll be able to deploy even more powerful abilities from now on, so it all balances out, wouldn’t you say? Well, it was rather cruel to the children, but…"
Considering the larvae and the land’s depletion, it could be called a costly outcome. But as a response to a sudden raid, it was a near-perfect result.
Both the larvae and the land could be replenished or repaired later, and more importantly, this battle had resulted in a level increase for Isla.
If there was one clear gain from this fight, this was it—a result truly worth celebrating.
Isla’s thoughts turned to the new abilities she could now access through this level-up.
Unlike Atou, who primarily absorbed abilities from enemies, other heroes like Isla gained new skills upon leveling up.
Acquiring abilities like 'Swarm Biology,' 'Trap Setting,' and 'Succession of Command' this time would undoubtedly bolster her forces further.
Having made up her mind, Isla focused her thoughts to contact Takuto.
Consulting with her lord took absolute priority, above all else.
The battle was over, and there was no need for heightened vigilance now.
There were no traces of enemies nearby; she could afford to lower her guard.
She had just received Takuto’s final words to Fremain a moment ago—reaching out to him now would pose no problem.
She thought this.
…However.
She had forgotten something.
No, it wasn’t just Isla—even Takuto himself had forgotten that particular fact.
The setting of Fremain. The nature of an RPG-style game.
<My Lord. Can you hear me? Everything has been handled without issue. Beyond that, I have a consultation. My level increased in this battle, and I was wondering which ability I should acquire…>
Isla sent her telepathic message to Takuto.
She did so while anticipating the joy of offering victory to her lord, and hoping to receive words of praise in return…
(Master? Can you hear me, Master? How fare you—)
=Message===
<!> Communication Error
Event Playback in Progress.
Chat commands cannot be executed.
―――
"Wha—?"
Flame Demon Fremain.
This enemy was extremely well-known among the players of Brave Questus. When asked about the game, there were quite a few who would name him first.
Furthermore, in a survey conducted by the game manufacturer, he was boldly ranked first as the most disliked enemy.
—The reason was simple.
Because of what he did...
The hero's precious companion had lost their life.
A fatal mistake becomes apparent.
The time has come to pay for the price of arrogance and the cost of optimism.
The consequences of blindly believing in the laws they knew are now being collected.
Destiny begins to spin rapidly.
An inescapable despair was creeping up from behind.
=Eterpedia===
[Flame Demon Fremain]
HP: 4200
MP: 16000
Attack Power: 22
Defense Power: 30
Magic: 55
Speed: 24
A cunning and ruthless demon.
He is the one who destroyed many cities.
You must absolutely not let your guard down!
=Message===
〈!〉Error No. 008 (Abnormal data value)
〈!〉Data profile is outside of the format specifications
―――