The moment Ian returned to the dungeon, he summoned his close aides.

Sema hurried into the conference room, frantically adjusting his wizard hat.

“But who are all these people, Ian? Ah! Could they be those who lost their homes because of this wave—”

“They're the residents of Louise's village. I destroyed their homes.”

“...?!”

“Louise is the village chief, so if they cause any trouble, report it to her.”

“What? Louise is the village chief...? What?!”

While Sema stood there in confusion, the others entered.

Behind them came a procession of sturdy dungeon residents, each carrying a bronze mirror.

They lined the mirrors up across the conference table.

Ian tapped the table, snapping Sema out of his daze.

“Sema. Connect them. First... the elf village.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

Sema swung his staff.

The surface of the bronze mirror directly in front of Ian rippled, and Moiken's face appeared.

He raised a cup and shouted,

[Pour! Drink! Victory is ours! Anyone who killed fewer than a hundred monsters, put down your cup!]

[There are none!]

[What kind of coward would that be?]

[Hahaha! We are the strongest!]

[Waaaaah!]

“......”

Ian looked at Jenea.

“We have no such tradition in our village.”

She answered immediately.

A little too immediately.

It sounded suspiciously like an excuse.

“Then what are they doing?”

“We do hold ceremonies to celebrate victory and give thanks for the blessings of the World Tree. I believe they may have... altered the ritual process somewhat.”

“So it is a tradition!”

“Elves do not traditionally drink alcohol.”

Sure enough, Moiken raised his cup and declared,

[To the blessings of the World Tree! To the ally who provided victory wine!]

“Who sold alcohol to these people?”

Ian looked around.

The answer came from Keith.

“The temple has been making fruit wine and distributing it to the faithful. As far as I know, Head Priest Yurian was the one who initiated it.”

No...

“......”

Ian decided he hadn't heard that.

“Jenea. An elemental.”

“Yes, Ian.”

A wind elemental under Jenea's command popped out.

Then it wrapped its arms around Ian's cheek and began rubbing its own cheek against him.

...?!

“What's wrong with this one?”

It was shockingly adorable.

But also strange.

Ian didn't even possess elemental affinity. There was no reason for an elemental to act friendly toward him.

Jenea conversed briefly with the spirit.

“What? ...It's drunk?”

“...?!”

She looked at Ian with an expression that said she had nothing left to say.

“It says it drank some of the alcohol poured at the World Tree.”

“They drink alcohol too?!”

“I never knew that myself. I've spent my entire life with elementals...”

Jenea looked genuinely shaken.

Ian felt much the same.

Back when he played the game, nothing had happened no matter how much alcohol he fed Yurian.

How far was this situation going to spiral?

In any case, through the intoxicated elemental, Ian managed to call Moiken over.

[Hm? Ah! Ian!]

Moiken lifted his cup with bleary eyes.

[To Ian! As you can see, we magnificently repelled those mamool bastards! When you coldly turned your back on us, I wondered whether we'd been abandoned. But you must have known we could handle it ourselves! Truly, our ally!]

At least pick one form of address and stick with it.

Ian nodded.

“Right. Anyway, what are you doing?”

[As you can see, we're holding a victory banquet—]

“You aren't planning to stop the next wave?”

[What!? The next wave?]

The alcohol seemed to leave Moiken instantly.

[Everyone, stop drinking!]

[Huh? Captain, what are you—]

[I've barely even started feeling it.]

[You said we'd keep going until sunrise.]

[Quiet! This is no time for that!]

After single-handedly reducing the banquet to chaos, Moiken slapped his own cheeks.

Smack!

Smack!

A tremendous noise rang out.

One side of the elf's face immediately swelled up.

He asked gravely,

[Another monster wave is coming? What in the world is happening?]

Isn't that an injury?

Ian suddenly wondered whether it was really safe to leave the dungeon in this man's hands.

Unfortunately, he had no better options.

“No idea. Maybe they've all gone insane and decided to wipe every non-demon race off the surface of the world. Either way, if you stay there, you'll keep receiving monster waves.”

[W-What are we supposed to do, then? The wounded haven't even recovered yet!]

So there are wounded.

Judging by the atmosphere, there didn't seem to be any dead.

No matter how reckless Moiken was, he wouldn't be laughing and drinking if his comrades had died.

“Come to the dungeon.”

[......?]

Moiken blinked.

Then his face twisted in shock.

[You're telling us to abandon our village? To let the World Tree wither again?!]

Before he could terminate the communication while declaring such a thing impossible, Ian cut him off.

“Why would you do that?”

[......?]

“The mamool won't touch the World Tree.”

[......?!]

Jenea immediately interrupted.

“But Ian. The one who made the World Tree wither before was—”

“A mamool? No. It wasn't.”

Jenea's eyes widened.

“They were certainly devil worshippers... but aren't they on the side of the demons?”

“No. Let's be precise. Devil worshippers aren't demons. They aren't mamool either. They're simply people who offer sacrifices and borrow the power of demons.”

Ian corrected the misconception.

It was the same mistake as equating a god with a priest.

A priest believed in a god, served a god, and borrowed divine power.

But nobody claimed a priest was a god.

By that logic, the Pope would be a god as well.

The idea of a god and a Demon Archduke being the same thing was absurd.

During his countless playthroughs, Ian had tried every possible strategy.

Among them was abandoning the World Tree and running away.

Not because I wanted to.

When death was staring you in the face, fleeing came first.

He had abandoned the World Tree through tears and returned later—

Only to discover that it was still alive.

What?

After several experiments, Ian became certain.

Mamool had no interest in destroying the World Tree.

They seemed uncomfortable around it because it repelled demonic energy.

That was all.

Maybe the developers protected it because it's a special item?

Ian had once suspected the developers were worried players would throw their phones and uninstall the game if an extremely difficult-to-obtain World Tree could be destroyed.

Of course, if they were that considerate, they wouldn't have managed the game so poorly.

Or maybe they just don't go near it because of its resistance to demonic energy.

Seeing dog droppings in the street, anyone would think they should clean them up.

But dog droppings possessed a mysterious property that made people avoid getting too close—

Well, that comparison was nonsense.

Still, the principle was similar.

[How can you be so sure the mamool won't kill the World Tree? The previous World Tree our village protected lost its former glory and withered away as the world became overrun with monsters. Mamool are harmful to the World Tree simply by existing!]

Moiken argued.

“But it didn't die.”

[What?]

“So what happened? Did the World Tree just decide, 'The air quality is terrible. I think I'll die now'?”

[No! We protected it with everything we had—!]

“Mamool can walk right up to it and it won't die. Even a sapling survives. Why would a fully grown tree die?”

“How do you know a World Tree sapling won't die?”

Jenea asked.

Ian provided a perfectly reasonable explanation.

“I carried one around while fighting mamool. It didn't die.”

“......”

Technically it was in my inventory.

But that was basically the same thing.

[Treat the World Tree with more respect!]

Moiken exploded.

Bracing himself against the table, Ian said,

“Trust me. The World Tree won't die. But if you stay there, you will.”

To be honest, Ian didn't care whether the World Tree withered or not.

As long as it remained alive, another one could always be planted.

The important thing was saving these people.

[...Should we head to the dungeon right now?]

Surprisingly, the stubborn Moiken asked exactly that.

That was easy?

Ian was genuinely shocked.

He had no idea why the man was being so cooperative.

Nor did he particularly care.

“Yeah. Hurry.”

[No race moves through the forest faster than elves.]

After leaving behind a proud declaration, Moiken stood and clapped his hands.

[You all heard him! Our ally calls for us! We march to the dungeon!]

[Waaaaah!]

[Ian! Ian!]

[Ally! Ally!]

[Elves keep their promises!]

The elves who had been holding their drinking party threw down their cups and sprang to their feet.

Elves were a race close to nature.

In charitable terms, a race free of possessions.

In less charitable terms, a race of paupers.

They had little worth packing.

Carrying the wounded and elderly on their backs, armed only with bows and quivers—

They began moving toward their ally.