Betrayed, I Met The Demon Lord

Chapter 83 - Quest In The Burning Dungeon, Part 1

"All done...!" the server exclaimed, watching as the broken wood dissolved into ash and drifted neatly into the trash can.

'...To think I'd feel fulfilled doing something so trivial,' the guardian mused, her gaze lingering on the dumpster.

"You were such a great help! Thank you so much...!" the server added, clasping the Spirit's hands tightly, gratitude radiating from her expression.

'...I suppose it feels different when it's done for the right person,' the guardian thought, her stoic expression softening slightly as she regarded the earnest servant: Recalling the knight's father - her first contractor, and how he treated her as an equal.

'I... Really do miss him.'

[Think nothing of it. Thank my master for allowing me to draw from his mana pool to accomplish this,] she replied, her voice steady and even.

'Speaking of which... Van. I've been using his mana pool nonstop since last night, as he didn't send me back to the spirit world. Granted, I haven't drawn excessively since he formed the contract with me... But even with my... previous contractor... I was never allowed to remain outside this long.' Her thoughts briefly darkened, but she shook them away.

'Just how vast is Van's mana pool?' the guardian wondered, her eyes drifting momentarily to the server.

"Speaking of him," the server began hesitantly, a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. "Is he... treating you well? I... I'm not saying he's a bad person, it's just that I have a bad... feeling about him, that's all..." Her voice softened as she looked away, releasing the Spirit's arm reluctantly.

'...Concerned? For me?' The Spirit blinked, momentarily surprised. 'And from a mortal stranger, no less. While we Spirits are clearly superior to the residents of this world, most treat us as tools... disposable and unworthy of care. This is unexpected.'

[I have only recently made a contract with him. I suppose time will tell,] she replied in a flat tone, masking any hint of emotion.

"I... I see," the server said, a nervous smile playing on her lips before she forced herself to sound more optimistic. "He seems young, so... maybe he'll only get better from here!" she added, her fists clenched in a gesture of forced enthusiasm.

But then.

An ominous noise broke the stillness of the morning air.

The creak of wooden steps echoed sharply from the apartment's exposed stairwell. The distinct clatter of metal rang out—chainmail shifting, heavy boots pressing against the wooden planks, and the scrape of metal leggings and cuisses brushing with each deliberate step.

The server froze, her breath catching as goosebumps rippled over her skin. Her wide eyes locked on the figure descending the open stairwell, clearly visible in the golden morning light. She clenched her fists instinctively, her gaze darting to the Spirit standing calmly in front of her.

The Spirit turned, her expression unflinching, as though this sight was nothing unusual.

'Although I admit... Van has an unusual aura about him,' she mused, her eyes narrowing on the descending figure. 'It's as if... I'm compelled to view him unfavorably, no matter my own judgment.'

Van continued his steady descent, fully visible now. He was clad in his old black armor, accented with brass and bronze. Each piece gleamed faintly in the morning sun, polished and clean; as if it was never used once - thanks to his passive. His helmet obscured his face entirely. A massive greatsword rested on his back, its hilt and blade spanning nearly the length of his whole frame.

The server's hand crept toward the knife at her waist as she trembled, her fear overtaking her.

[Rest easy,] the Spirit instructed, her calm tone breaking through the tension.