I'm Telling You, I'm Not the Boss Monster!

Chapter 26

The Seven Palaces of Mugan.

The greatest public enemy of humanity and seven unsolvable enigmas that defy logic.

Even in the past century, groups of the Empire's Four Heroes who dared to challenge them met with humiliating and overwhelming death.

In the Demonic Realm, they are revered as untouchable and absolute rulers. Even the Seven Dukes of the Demonic Realm cannot raise their heads before the Seven Palaces of Mugan without permission.

Standing still, staring at the knights, was the Death Knight.

The psychological pressure emanating from its mere presence was undoubtedly due to its infamous reputation.

"Is that the boss of the Mugan Palace...?"

"Captain..."

"Everyone, stop. Do not move without my permission."

The knights stood frozen, their gazes fixed solely on the boss.

The Death Knight, the boss of the Mugan Palace, was an enemy they could not afford to face recklessly—it would only lead to meaningless deaths.

"I have to do this."

At this moment, when no one was injured, there was a chance they could all survive.

Wilhelm swallowed hard, the weight of his saliva felt heavy in his throat. He steadied his trembling hands and tightened his grip on the sword's hilt.

Facing the Death Knight brought back memories of the boss of Ban-go’s Shadow Fortress.

Back then, 247 elite warriors, including the Four Heroes, launched an all-out assault to subjugate that monster.

In the end, while the four heroes returned unscathed, over half the force—130 warriors—were killed.

Wilhelm knew that his former self could never have stood a chance against the boss of the Mugan Palace.

"But it’s different now."

He had the advantage against an undead opponent. More importantly, he had awakened the Holy Sunblade.

With these two factors, defeating the boss of the Mugan Palace seemed possible. Even if he couldn’t kill it, the power of the Sunblade could inflict irreparable damage.

Wilhelm resolved himself firmly. He didn’t care if he died, as long as he could avenge his comrades.

A low hum resonated—

The divine power of the Sunblade began to gather. The holy light that could incinerate all darkness filled the surroundings with radiant sunlight. Charlotte’s expression froze in an instant as she witnessed the transformation.

"Why... am I only realizing it now?"

Why did she only recognize it after seeing that brilliant radiance?

That holy sword had been awakened by divine providence for one purpose alone: to kill the boss.

She had grown complacent the moment he arrived, relying on him. But she shouldn’t have.

That sword was the sole blade in the world capable of threatening him.

Charlotte bit her lower lip hard. Blood trickled from the torn flesh as she struggled to stand.

"This is dangerous. Even the boss is in danger."

For an undead, the holy sword was the worst possible opponent.

If it was an awakened holy sword, it could snuff out life as easily as blowing out a candle.

No matter how powerful the boss was—even the one who killed Balmunc with a single strike—this time was different.

"Mr. Balutak, pull yourself together. The boss..."

"Ki... rik..."

Balutak, his body cleaved in two, was nearing death.

Even Charlotte, who was trying to rally him, was swaying. She wasn’t much better off than Balutak.

Every movement before initiating a spell felt like torture. The excessive blood loss blurred her senses, her consciousness teetering on the edge of collapse. Blood pooled at her feet, rippling with every unsteady step she took.

"You vile fiend! I, Wilhelm, will avenge my comrades today!"

"Ah..."

With less than a second until an explosive clash, Charlotte could only watch helplessly.

"Burn in the light of the sun!"

Wilhelm paid no heed to his body’s waning vitality. His overwhelming despair and helplessness gnawed at his spirit. The realization that she could do nothing despite standing so close was a torment worse than death itself.

"Then and now, I..."

I have never been of any help.

If the boss died, so would she. If that was the case, she would rather—

For a fleeting moment, she thought the boss might die.

Until the Sunblade fell into his hand.

"...Huh?"

A single syllable of disbelief escaped one of the knights.

That brief utterance encapsulated the scene unfolding before their eyes.

Wilhelm stood empty-handed, the Sunblade now grasped by the Death Knight.@@@@

Charlotte, witnessing it all, held her breath in stunned silence.

Undead beings were supposed to perish the moment they touched the holy sword.

Yet here he was, holding it without a trace of harm.

And it wasn’t as if he had snatched it—the Sunblade had floated to his hand on its own.

"How... how is this possible?"

The answer to her inadvertently muttered question was already in front of her.

Just as she had realized upon seeing the sword’s radiance, she now understood as she looked at the boss.

This was a solitary entity among the Seven Palaces of Mugan.

It defied comprehension and transcended logic—that was why it was called the Mugan Palace.

No matter how dire the situation, as long as the boss stood, the Mugan Palace remained unbroken.

Clank.

Step by step.

Each footfall of the boss pressed down on the space like the weight of the entire Mugan Palace moving.

"Oh, gods. How could this..."

Wilhelm’s legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees.

A man who had devoted everything to his faith, who had gained everything through it,

Now faced the loss of it all as death approached.

A radiant glow enveloped Charlotte, emanating from her wounds.

Her shoulder, where she’d been impaled, began to regenerate rapidly. In less than five seconds, her critical injuries were completely healed, and I used the holy sword to flawlessly reattach her severed arm.

“...?”

Charlotte cautiously opened her eyes.

She looked at me, then down at herself, inspecting her body before waving her reattached arm experimentally.

After a moment, she fixed her gaze on me, her expression full of unspoken thoughts.

“You will not die,” I said firmly.

“Oh... my lord, you are truly merciful. I thought I could atone for my failures only through death, but...”

It seemed Charlotte had realized I possessed a means to save her.

Yet she’d chosen to embrace death, believing she wasn’t worthy of survival. Another example of her peculiar self-esteem issues.

Why would I let you die?

Without you, this dungeon would fall apart. How could I manage with just the little ones and myself, the weakest boss?

“You’ve done well. You’ve fulfilled your role as my lieutenant admirably.”

“...I am deeply honored.”

Her courage in standing against an awakened holy sword was commendable.

The attempt alone was praiseworthy, and the fact that she endured to the end was even more so.

I found my gaze drifting to her eyes.

“By the way... you’ve become a Demonkin.”

“Demonkin, my lord?”

Of course, I’d expected it and had mentioned it deliberately.

Evolution brought visible changes, which was why it was called evolution.

Charlotte’s white sclera now bore a pentagram magic circle in place of her irises—a distinct mark of Demonkin evolution.

When witches evolve, they become Demonkin. The only visible change is in their eyes, where magic circles replace pupils.

[Lv. 80]

Charlotte’s magical capabilities had likely increased from 7th to 8th circle spells.

In terms of levels, magic circles often corresponded to increments of ten. For instance, level 50s could typically cast up to 5th circle spells, level 60s up to 6th circle, and so on.

Apart from her altered eyes, other changes included heightened mana sensitivity and the development of mana-based respiratory functions. Her artificial mana circuits had also evolved into structures optimized solely for magic.

I dispelled the holy sword’s light and held it up to Charlotte, allowing her to see her reflection.

“Demonkin...”

She alternated between looking at the holy sword’s reflection and me, gratitude clear in her eyes.

“I am overwhelmed by your grace, my lord.”

Charlotte knelt before me. To someone whose life revolved around magic, this evolution must have been immensely significant. I couldn’t help but wonder how she’d react if I gave her the Necronomicon.

“Ugh... huh? What’s going on?”

I turned to check on Isabella, but she had already woken up and was looking around.

There were no visible injuries, so she didn’t seem to need my attention after all.

Reaching into my ribcage, I retrieved the magic tome hidden behind my 11th rib.

Charlotte tilted her head slightly as she looked at it.

“Could that be...?”

Though she phrased it as a question, it was clear she recognized the tome.

“It’s the Necronomicon. It took some effort to retrieve it from Rozesha.”

Not much effort, really, but making it seem like a challenge would increase her appreciation.

Charlotte stared at the tome with wide eyes, her expression resembling a cat enthralled by catnip. For someone as stoic as Charlotte, such a reaction spoke volumes about how much she wanted it.

“My lord, have you developed an interest in necromancy? It would certainly be of great assistance.”

“Hmm?”

“...I envy you.”

She gasped and waved her hands frantically.

“Forgive me, my lord! That was a slip of the tongue. How could someone like me dare covet your belongings?”

It was almost comical to see the usually mechanical Charlotte flustered and rambling.

Maybe her near-death experience had something to do with it.

Or perhaps it was just ironic that, as the sole necromancer here, she hadn’t even considered the tome might be hers.

“Could it be that I’m so inadequate you feel the need to study necromancy yourself? If so, I deeply apologize for my uselessness in this dungeon.”

Now she was self-destructing.

Good grief. Charlotte, this is yours.