Then there were Ability Points, which were used to strengthen abilities. Abilities maxed out at level 10, and the number of Ability Points required for leveling them increased proportionally from one level to the next. Pretty standard stuff. The section beneath that one happened to be Title, and that was...
The Demon Lord from Another World: A being that came from a different world. Possesses the special ability to understand any language.
Yup, that confirmed it. I was definitely in another world. I mean, I’d figured as much, but it was nice to know for sure.
Having gotten the gist of my stats, I closed out of that section and tapped on Dungeon Points (DP) Catalog. Just like I’d suspected, it featured things that I could buy using my Dungeon Points, which were listed in the Stats section, meaning they were this world’s currency. The catalog contained everything from typical fantasy RPG items like swords, shields, armor, and staffs, to more ordinary things like toothbrushes, cups, and food. And what do ya know, it also had stupidly expensive stuff like video games.
It was no Zamazon, but it was definitely pretty convenient. I suspected that there were two versions of the DP Catalog—one with stuff inherent to this world, and one with items tailored to me and my experiences. That was the only reason I could think of for there being random things from my world that so obviously ruined the immersion here. But compared to this world’s items, the ones from Earth were a lot more expensive. I was probably going to have to hold off on getting them for a while.
Then we had Loot Roll, which had been bugging me this whole time. Shame that it was just a normal, loot-box-style RNG pull like all the other ones out there. There were four cost options: 100 DP, 1,000 DP, 10,000 DP, and 100,000 DP. Didn’t know what you’d get until you pulled.
And finally, there was the Dungeon category. It included topics like how to increase a dungeon’s level, how to expand it, how to summon monsters, and so on. Basically, it was a guide with a bunch of tips for building a dungeon. I figured I’d read up on the actual details later on, but then my eyes strayed toward the first sentence, which taught me something:
Dungeons are living beings.
To summarize the rest of that section, dungeons were unique to this world and were born in places with vast concentrations of mana, which was essentially magical energy. Just like any other creature when it first came into existence, newborn dungeons were weak and therefore easily destroyed, with the most common destroyers apparently being humans. They often targeted the dungeon’s core—essentially its heart—which just so happened to be the rainbow-colored orb I’d touched earlier. Interesting. It seemed pretty obvious that these orbs were super-rare items in this world.
Because of the massive amount of energy it contained, a dungeon’s core also attracted hordes of power-hungry monsters, which were considered wildlife in this world. In other words, for a dungeon, everybody was an enemy unless proven otherwise. As a result, in order to protect itself, a dungeon would summon someone to manage it and increase its likelihood of survival. Survival through symbiosis seemed to be the name of the game, with the summoned lord taking up the mantle of both protector and caretaker of their dungeon.
Most of the time, a dungeon would “invite” monsters that lived nearby and force one of them to be reborn as its lord. But then there was me. Because this dungeon had been born in a place with an extremely high concentration of mana, it ended up having a lot more power than other dungeons. It had used most of that power to summon a suitable lord, which had turned out to be me—or more specifically, the soul I’d left behind after I’d died on Earth. Guess that meant I make a better demon lord than I do a human? Kinda messed up if you ask me.
To recap, in the interest of its own defense, this dungeon had reincarnated me as an archdemon. It’d unilaterally decided that its chance of survival would be higher if I was reborn as a nonhuman. According to my mental wiki, a situation like this wouldn’t be possible without the perfect soul for being an archdemon, but... Wait, maybe that was it. I’d been addicted to this one game in my other life, and I usually played as a Great Demon Lord, so that could have been it. Not.
Anyway, having power wasn’t exactly a bad thing. Based on the info embedded in my brain, I knew this world was much more dangerous than Earth. There were a buttload of races, which also meant a buttload of wars. Add on the fact that low-level demon lord morons ran around killing humans indiscriminately, and that meant an insane amount of hatred directed at demon lords in general. Basically, since I’d been reborn as one of them, I needed any and every little bit of power I could get in order to increase my chance of survival here.
“Hmm...”
I glared at the dungeon core, the annoying orb that had nearly given me an aneurysm. Apparently, the dungeon’s power massively influenced the lord’s abilities on an intrinsic level. If a dungeon died, so too did its lord. Since a dungeon committed most of its resources to its lord, if the lord died, the dungeon’s power weakened drastically, ultimately leading to its destruction as well. In short, our fates were tied.
“Goddammit. What a pain in the ass this world is. Of all the places I could’ve ended up.”
Then again, if the dungeon didn’t exist, I wouldn’t have come back to life. It was hard to be mad at that.
I gingerly extended my arm toward the orb and brushed its surface. No pain this time around. It really was my second heart now, huh? This really was my second life. I’d been given another chance to live, and I could do it the way I wanted to, regrets be damned. And all I had to do in exchange was protect this orb? Deal.
With those thoughts in my head, I realized that I still hadn’t given my new archdemon form the once-over, so that was when I’d opened the DP Catalog and bought myself a hand mirror.