Chapter 303 - 68: Ultimate Joy

「The Local Noble Mansion.」

The recent activity of the Slimes had the Lord worried for some time.

With them around, the commoners no longer needed his loans. His income for the next year would surely plummet, and he might even be forced to wear this year’s clothes again.

But after the expedition returned in triumph and the Dungeon entrance was sealed, the Slimes finally quieted down. He felt the good times were finally on their way back.

Sitting on his castle’s lookout tower, the Lord ate moldy cheese and drank his home-brewed wine. ’Life doesn’t get any better than this,’ he thought.

From his high vantage point, he had a clear view of the commoners’ grief-stricken faces—the perfect accompaniment to his wine.

Just as the Lord was pondering whether to raise interest rates by three points to cover his recent losses, he heard a sound that shook the heavens and the earth, like a tolling bell from paradise.

"Summoning!"

A pillar of white light shot toward the heavens, seemingly shattering the sky itself. The light tore through the clouds, transforming the water vapor within into pure white snowflakes. They drifted down from above like holy Angels dancing in the air.

The sight was so magnificent it startled the Lord to his feet.

"Wh-wh-wh-what... What’s going on?!"

A guard stumbled into the room.

He was uninjured, his Leather Armor completely intact.

But he was gasping for air, as if he had suffered a devastating blow that had broken his spirit.

"My Lord, run!"

"Why? What happened? Did the commoners rebel? That’s impossible. I only left them enough food to keep from starving. How could they have the strength to rebel?"

"No, not them? Then the Slimes are attacking?"

"That’s impossible too! The Slimes can’t be that strong! How many of them are there?"

"One... and a crowd of onlookers."

"Have you been drinking?"

"I... I can’t take it anymore... AAAAAH! I am guilty!"

The guard let out a heart-rending howl as tears of blood gushed from his eyes.

Tearing off his Leather Armor and helmet, he ripped open his shirt and carved a bloody cross on his chest with his weapon.

"I am guilty. I shouldn’t have betrayed my conscience for a salary, swearing loyalty to a pathetic bastard like you. You’re the most shameless piece of scum I’ve ever known. I should have split your head open with my sword while you were on the toilet!"

"Y-you, stay away! Guards, guards! There’s a madman here!"

The guard, weeping tears of blood, walked forward, grabbed the Lord whose legs had gone limp, and hung him from the lookout tower.

He picked up a leather whip, struck himself once, then turned and struck the Lord.

To the accompaniment of the Lord’s howls, he sobbed, "I am guilty. I never should have helped you."

Another guard came up, took the whip, struck himself, and then struck the Lord. "I am guilty, too."

"Me too."

"I just want to die."

Whipped to within an inch of his life, the Lord felt his life force rapidly fading.

The fear of death had been flogged out of him, lash by lash, and his body grew cold from blood loss.

Just as he was feeling relieved that his end was near, a guard took out a bottle. Before the Lord’s shocked eyes, the guard walked over and poured the Spiritual Elixir from the bottle down his throat.

A warm current flooded his body. His system began to greedily absorb the nutrients from the Spiritual Elixir, and his wounds started to heal.

Before long, his body was fully restored, just in time for a new round of flogging.

As the sun set and the moon rose, the now-numb Lord stared blankly into the distance, hoping someone would give him a quick and clean death.

However, he was not met by the Death God, but by a single Slime.

Under the moonlight, the Slime’s skin shone with a mercury-like luster. Its agile figure bounded across the ground, hopping toward him.

"Are you here to kill me? Come on, finish me off! I really..."

"Summoning!"

"I..."

An unfamiliar emotion surged within his heart.

It was a feeling he had almost forgotten, one buried deep within him.

In a daze, he felt as if he had returned to the past, to the days of his childhood when he ran through the fields.

Back then, he was just an ordinary Lord’s son. He had a playmate, too—the child of a nearby farmer.

Children don’t see class distinctions. They don’t know who is a noble and who is a commoner. He only knew that he had fun playing with his friend, but slowly, everything changed.

He began to learn the duties of a Lord, while his friend went home to work the farm. The gap between them grew wider and wider, and their paths diverged.

Until one day, when he unexpectedly ran into his old friend, he felt not the joy of reunion, but a wave of disgust.

The other boy noticed the change in him, and the smile that was about to form on his face vanished.

Finally, his companion—also in his early twenties but worn down by farm work to look thirty—took off his straw hat and said respectfully, "My lord."

That single phrase, "My lord," brought him a moment of clarity.

He finally understood the source of his disgust.

He realized he was different from his friend and felt ashamed that they had once played together so happily as children. This shame, like a wild beast seeking an escape, had finally transformed into disgust for his old playmate.

He lifted his head and puffed out his chest. He felt his own stature swelling, while his friend’s figure grew blurry, eventually becoming just another lowly existence like all the others.

"Mm."

With that one sound, he finally bid farewell to his past self and stepped into his own social class.

But now, he saw.

He saw the shadows of the past. He saw his younger self fishing with his friend as an equal, picking wild fruits together, splashing in the river, and gazing at the Milky Way in the sky, marveling at the beauty of nature.

In that instant, regret burst forth like a flood. The Lord, still hanging upside down from the lookout tower, covered his face and began to sob uncontrollably.

"I am guilty! I shouldn’t have avoided you! I should have told you I loved you! I shouldn’t have cared about all that damned etiquette, the damned world, my damned family background, or anything else! I am guilty! I am guilty!"

Amidst the Lord’s wails, the purification of the entire town was complete.

The next day, the players discovered that the guards at the Dungeon entrance had dispersed. The Dungeon was open again.

They could once again happily enter the Dungeon, grind for Reincarnation Points, and advance to the deeper levels.

Not only that, but there were many new people in town.

They whipped themselves like Ascetic Monks, with "I am guilty" as their constant prayer. The Lord, at their head, was the most devout of them all. His determination to flog himself to death was terrifying to behold.

But regardless, the Dungeon was open again!