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Chapter 687

It was all because trusting someone like Siegfried was akin to walking to the pits of hell with one’s own two feet.

Of course, there was no way Orleius would know that. He had no idea just what kind of person Siegfried was, after all.

“Do you have a death wish? Is life so boring that you would choose to—”

“What do you think will happen if I die?” Siegfried smirked, cutting the senior demon guard off. Then, he said nonchalantly, “How do you plan to recover your entire fortune you bet on me?”

“M-My entire fortune?!”

“Don’t you know that there are no refunds in this industry? Do you plan to beg them to cancel your bet? Hmm... If I remember correctly, that’s not how things work where you come from.”

“This insolent wretch!”

“And also,” Siegfried added. Then, he smirked and asked, “Why are you so intent on keeping your pride when you\'d be able to turn your life around just by obeying me?”

“T-Turning my life around?”

“How long do you plan to stay and rot in this filthy, damp, depressing, and hopeless place on a mere guard’s salary? Another fifty years? Or maybe one hundred years?”

“...!”

“Don’t you want to earn enough Soul Coins with this opportunity and return to the demon world triumphantly? What do you think will happen if you go all-in during the semifinals and finals?”

“Well...”

Orleius did not want to, but his mind subconsciously calculated the expected payout he would enjoy if he went all-in in the semifinals and finals. Then, his brain automatically projected what he\'d look like while basking in his newfound fortune.

‘If he wins... If this bastard wins for me...’

The demons traded human souls through Soul Coins, which meant that those coins contained dark mana that would make the demons grow stronger. This was how demons gained power.

In the vicious world of the demons, money or Soul Coins were equivalent to power.

“I’m not going to be asking for much,” Siegfried said, interrupting Orleius\' fantasy.

“Y-You’re going to ask something in return?”

“Is anything free in this world?”

“Hmm...”

“It’s really nothing that difficult.”

“What is it...?”

“The twentieth basement dungeon.”

“H-How do you know about that place?!”

Orleius was mortified that Siegfried knew about the existence of that place. That place was supposed to be kept top-secret, and only the heads of each block, such as Orleius or the veteran wardens who had worked here for centuries were supposed to know about them.

“A good friend of mine is locked up down there. Help me get to my friend and get out of here.”

“D-Don’t tell me... Did you infiltrate this place to attempt a prison break?”

“Why else would a good law-abiding citizen like me end up in a dump like this? Can you think a bit before asking questions?”

“I... I don’t think that’s accurate at all...” Orleius muttered, grimacing in disgust.

Why was he disgusted?

It was simple.

From what he had witnessed so far, he believed Siegfried was born for this prison.

Siegfried fought so well and was cruel enough to make even the hardest of criminals cry. In addition, he had ruthlessly punished his lackeys without an ounce of hesitation and had even made a mockery out of the Warden Martial Competition that earned him the title "Lucky Bastard."

All in all, Siegfried looked harmless and out of place here, but he was definitely what one could consider "perfect" for prison.

“What did you say?” Siegfried asked, raising a brow.

Funnily enough, he was either oblivious to the fact or had been refusing to accept the fact that he was perfect for prison.

Siegfried waved his hand and gave an ultimatum, “Ah, whatever. Help me break out and become a high-ranking demon or lose your entire fortune and spend the rest of your life as a debt-ridden failure. The choice is yours.”

“H-How can I trust you...? What if you break your friend out of here and just escape? Then I will be...” Orleius asked, his voice trembling.

“Do you want to sign a contract?”

“A contract?”

“You’re a demon, right? We can make a deal. You help me rescue my friend and break out. In return, I’ll win the finals for you. How about it? A contract with a demon can be trusted, right?”

“You’re not wrong, but...”

“I’ll give you sixty seconds to decide.”

“Wait a minute!”

“Fifty-nine.”

“Hey!”

“Fifty-eight.”

“Isn’t one minute too short to decide something like this?!”

“I don’t have time either. Every second counts if I want to go down, rescue him, and be back up in less than five hours. Fifty-five.”

“H-Hiiiik?!”

“Fifty-four.”

Siegfried mercilessly continued counting, driving Orleius into a corner.

‘Damn it...! If it’s revealed that I helped a prisoner escape... That will be the end of me!’

Orleius was tormented deep inside, as the risk was huge no matter which option he chose. He could kill the cunning human here but that would mean losing his entire fortune and getting riddled with a massive debt.

On the other hand, helping the human would earn him a serious punishment if the warden were to discover what he had done.

‘I’ll lose everything if I kill this bastard, but I could rise to a position I’ve never even dreamed of if I help him...’

In the end, there was only one option for Orleius. The possibility of earning a massive payout was something he could not ignore, even if he could cancel his bet and just kill the cunning human here and now.

Yes, he did earn a good amount of Soul Coins until now, but the sheer payout he stood to win if the human won the semifinals and the finals could catapult him to the status of a high-ranking demon overnight.

“Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen...”

“Fine, I’ll enter into a contract with you,” Orleius finally made up his mind.

“That’s the spirit,” Siegfried said with a grin. Then, he extended his hand and added, “Congratulations on becoming a high-ranking demon—in advance.”

“I’ll be counting on you,” Orleius replied, shaking the extended hand.

Unbeknownst to him, he had just shaken the hands of the devil in disguise.

***

Siegfried entered into a contract with Orleius, putting his soul as collateral.

The terms?

They were quite simple.

Orleius would ensure that Siegfried would be able to infiltrate the twentieth basement floor, rescue Quandt, and escape the Fortress of Hell all the way to the continent, alive and free.

In return, Siegfried was to win both the semifinals and finals of the Warden Martial Competition, ensuring that Orleius would earn a fortune beyond anything he had imagined so far, catapulting his status in the demon world to the moon.

“The contract is done,” Orleius declared.

“Good. We’ve got five hours, so let’s get this done,” Siegfried replied icily as he prepared for the main part of the mission.

Orleius rubbed his chin and said, “Hmm... A supply cart is scheduled to go down the elevator shortly. That will be your window of opportunity.”

The senior demon guard was well-informed about the operations of the twentieth basement floor, as it was his duty, after all, to send prisoners down into that secretive abyss.

“But what are you doing with those prisoners down there?” Siegfried asked.

Orleius shook his head and replied, “Even I don’t know what’s going on down there.”

The senior demon guard was quite high in the prison ranking, but he was just as clueless as anyone else when it came to the secretive basement floor.

“I mean, there’s got to be some sort of criteria you follow, right? I’m sure you’re not just tossing random people down there.”

“Yeah, there is. We send miners, laborers, demolition experts, mages, and alchemists. Sometimes, we even send people that are just absurdly strong down there.”

Siegfried narrowed his eyes and asked, “What the hell are they doing down there?”

“I assume they are doing some sort of construction project, but I have no idea about the details. Only the warden, Belial, would know.”

“Well, I’m sure he knows since he’s the warden, after all,” Siegfried replied with a shrug. Then, he asked with a hint of suspicion, “Do you think the demon lord, Dantalion, has anything to do with it?”

“That is possible. After all, he is one of the craftiest and most cunning rulers in the demon world,” Orleius agreed.

Siegfried raised a brow and smirked, “You talk about a demon lord as if he’s someone around the block in your neighborhood.”

Orleius shrugged nonchalantly and replied, “Everyone complains about their superiors and rulers all the time behind their backs. Besides, I’m not going to bow to a demon lord who isn’t even my liege.”

“Oh?”

“I serve the Demon Lord of Greed, Morax. I hail from the third district of the demon world, where he reigns,” Orleius said, his voice beaming with pride.

“Fair enough. The demon world has no shortage of lords and kings, after all.”

“Exactly. Now back to the basement floor. I know nothing aside from sending inmates down. The ones who probably know are in Dantalion’s inner circle—the lieutenants and the elite prison guards surrounding the warden. I’m just a grunt with a paycheck, a low-ranking demon getting paid to do the job I applied for.”

“Alright, let’s go then.”

“Follow me.”

Siegfried and Orleius moved to set their plan in motion after entering into a contract. He was finally going to descend to the twentieth basement floor where Quandt was imprisoned, and this signaled that the real game was just about to begin.

***

At the same time, Ninetail was not one to sit idly and do nothing while Siegfried was hard at work. She tampered with the Mana Suppressing Devices, which were the devices in the Fortress of Hell that kept the inmates from using their mana.

However, that was not the only thing she did.

She infiltrated into another vital part of the prison.

“Hohoho! So many Soul Coins!”

Ninetail broke into none other than the Demon Bank branch inside the Fortress of Hell, passing through countless barriers and traps to reach the vault, where a mountain pile of Soul Coins was located.

The mountain pile of Soul Coins seduced her by emitting a purple hue. These coins were nothing but worthless scraps of metal to humans, but Ninetail knew better than anyone regarding their real value.

Each one of these could be traded for human souls at the bank’s main branch.

“Just wait for mommy a little longer, my darlings. I’ll come back and take you home with me soon,” Ninetail said, grinning from ear to ear.

She knew emptying the vault was a bad move right now, so she whispered farewell to the Soul Coins and left. Meanwhile, the demons guarding the bank had no idea that someone had slipped past their defenses.

The Phantom Thief, Ninetail, was truly capable of slipping past through the tightest of securities without leaving a trace.

***

Meanwhile, the monotonous life in the Fortress of Hell continued. Meals were served just as always—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Of course, the quality of the food was nothing short of disgusting.

It was around lunchtime now.

“This damned stomach of mine is still demanding food even though I’m in this wretched state...” Quandt grumbled as he lined up with a tray in hand to get his meal.

The meals on the twentieth basement floor were incomparably better than the rest of the prison. They were rich in protein, carbohydrates, vitamins, and amino acids that they could rival those that nobles of the continent would eat.

The prisoners on this floor were treated far better than what one would expect from such a place.

However, Quandt remained listless despite that.

He could not muster the slightest shred of enthusiasm, even with such a feast in front of him. He had lost everything to his brother and was now imprisoned in the deepest, most isolated part of the Fortress of Hell.

Not even the best delicacies on the continent could give him joy right now.

“Sigh... King Siegfried...” Quandt let out a sigh and muttered under his breath. Then, he whispered with his eyes closed as he received his meal, “Why do I keep thinking of you? Why do I miss you so much? I know you’re powerful, but even you would find it difficult to come here and rescue—”

“Do you miss me that much?”

“Of course, I have nothing else left. Who else could I trust if not you—”

It was then.

Quandt froze with his words still stuck in his throat. His eyes shot wide open as he blinked rapidly to confirm whether he was hallucinating or not.

A second later...

Clang!

The tray slipped from Quandt’s hands, spilling its contents across the floor. He stared at the face before him, utterly dumbfounded.

It was all because the face belonged to him—it belonged to Siegfried.