Betrayed, I Met The Demon Lord

A weird silence hung in the air, thick enough to cut through, not that I could; considering how utterly weak I was.

Oh, he was well aware. And he definitely knew that I was onto him.

He was going to make good use of those passive skills, especially the harem-related ones. That was a given.. Well, at least he wasn't the type to mistreat women.

As for me, I had to nail down my own role in this place. They were... Nice enough to let us choose our path.

Choices, choices: summon spirits, wield magic, stealth as an assassin, make everyone submit as a holy paladin, aim as an archer, command beasts, or craft runes.

Magus, with his countless charms, blessings, and favorable passives, could choose anything. Hell, he could even choose everything at once. Most people I mentioned earlier encouraged him to. And thanks to his harem-oriented skills, I've witnessed this firsthand—several beauties fighting over who gets to teach him, while the male instructors could only gnaw their fingernails in jealousy... and bubbling hatred. But I wasn't too worried. The Queen herself favored him, which protected him from the bastards plotting to kill him. (Though, I get their frustration.)

Either way, with all the glamour and luxurious paths out there, you'd think I'd have something going for me. But nope, no such luck.

Armed with my Hard Swing skill, zero talents or passives in the arcane arts, and armor and weapons tied to my Resistance and Strength stats, becoming a simple sword-fighting warrior was my only option. In this world, that path is considered the weakest among all the races.

But, even paired up with someone as exceptional as my friend, I had my own trump card.

It was the Dark Soul skill. Essentially, I was immortal, reviving after every death.

At that moment, hope sparked within me again. I thought, maybe, just maybe, I'd be taken to some secret training program—perhaps a hidden league of assassins that would teach me to conquer death. Something grandiose like that.

But reality couldn't have been farther from that dream.

Thanks to my Untrusted passive skill, not a single instructor wanted to teach me. Not one. I was left to sit in the Holy Church beside the Royal Academy where we had been summoned, subjected to mocking stares from the very teachers who rejected me. All the while, I watched as Magus was ushered into the Academy, trained alongside other children our age, who envied him. Naturally, all the girls flocked to him, and from what I heard, he had a great time.

Meanwhile, I wasn't even allowed to leave. They debated what to do with me. Before long, the king himself came to see me. His gaze wasn't kind, and I was too nervous to meet his eyes—or anyone's for that matter—especially after the humiliation of being rejected by everyone.

Then, the king had an idea. He summoned the leader of the Royal Knights' First Battalion, a man named Sir Nickelson.

Nickelson wore bright, gleaming armor and had long, vibrant hair—but that was the extent of his charm. When he saw my skillset, he came up with a plan: train me relentlessly, push me to my limits—and sometimes beyond. Occasionally, they'd have me tortured under his watchful eye. He justified it by claiming his knights were frustrated with Magus, and they needed someone to take it out on. In this way, he killed two birds with one stone—letting his knights vent while 'training' me; so he claimed.

I won't go into the details of what they did, or how far they went. I'll just say this: I died. A lot.

And this was all before Magus and I set out on our grand journey. While he honed his skills with the mages, paladins, summoners, beast tamers, and runemasters—enjoying the company of female instructors and living the dream at the Academy with tournaments he dominated, harems that flocked to him, and a seemingly effortless rise to power—I spent my days in the barracks, peeing blood.

To say I envied him would be an understatement. I found out his first time was with the voluptuous, mature elven beastmaster instructor. She even let him live in her house while she trained him. The bastard.

His passives made his training feel like a breeze. Mine, on the other hand, felt like an endless hell. Without too much blabbering, I'll just say that over time, I got somewhat used to dying; and—Despite all the suffering I endured, I was nowhere near as powerful as Magus.

Sometimes, during moments of recess, we'd meet up, and I'd vent to him about everything. He was furious when he learned what the knights had been doing to me. He thought I was just training hard—not being straight-up tortured. Without hesitation, he went straight to the queen, and sure enough, justice was served. Everyone involved got what was coming to them.

My training lasted three years. This happened right near the end of it.

If it weren't for Magus, I'd still be stuck as their eternal sparring partner—no, their immortal punching bag—just as they had planned. I wasn't even strong enough for the journey at that point.

But I'll give those damn knights some credit. Their relentless training—piercing, slashing, and carving me up until I died and respawned—forced my muscles to regenerate stronger with each revival.

Incredibly, I developed dense, compact muscles while shedding all my body fat in a short time. It allowed me to fit comfortably into more compact armor.

Each time I opened my status window after dying, I could see my Vigor, Strength, and Resistance stats increasing despite not actually getting to level up, which was also broken in its own way, given that stats can only increase as you level up.

My Dexterity Stat also increased, but just when I level'd up. It means I could barely control my strength... I had to work more on being gentle, and my accuracy far more than applying more force to each swing on my own, without relying on the DEX stat... Which held me back a lot.

At the time I was still in the knight's barracks, I started to think that if I endured enough deaths, I might eventually be able to defeat at least one of these fucking knights. If not by using skills, then with just overpowering strength.

But, their skills, experience, and overall stats and levels far surpassed mine. As members of the royal capital's First Battalion knights, they ranked among the top 300 strongest on the continent, alongside elite adventurers. My odds of success were minimal, especially considering that the rate at which my stats improved with each death had begun to dwindle, eventually ceasing altogether.

I suppose this was because the level of brutality and torture I endured wasn't severe enough to inflict the kind of trauma needed for my body to evolve from it. In other words, my body had adapted to the torment, as well as my mind.

From then on, the only way I could get stronger was to level up. I didn't get much of an opportunity to do it with these pricks, but I did have a certain edge even at my situation. I had a level 14's stats at level 6 thanks to my deaths, and stats would grow at a fixed percentage rate according to your level when you level up, regardless of how great they are. At least at the beginner levels.

It meant I could catch up to Magus... In like 20 years, if he didn't move a muscle and didn't improve separately.

Either way, after leaving the Capital, we continued our quest to defeat the demon lord. As you might guess, over the years, we only picked up female companions. His passives didn't just attract them; they swayed them to our side.

Trustworthy because they were under his spell, we collected them like they were [COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT]. Whenever we heard about a strong woman, we'd head out and recruit her. Even the toughest warrior who'd long locked away her heart couldn't resist him and would join us.

I still felt that it was unethical, sure, but we needed companions. And LOYAL ones. Having only girls around us guaranteed it.

Before long, our group expanded to seven members:

Millina was the first to join us. Originally a guide working at a remote guild in the middle of the woods, we encountered her when we found ourselves lost in that very forest. From then on, she became an integral part of our group. Her knowledge of edible plants and wildlife made her invaluable, especially when it came to navigating unfamiliar territories. She unfortunately died to a Demonic general 4 and a half years into the journey. It hit me and the rest of us hard, but not nearly as hard as Magus. I think he loved her more than anyone in the party.

Marcilla, the warrior I mentioned earlier, was a tanned, short-haired tomboy with a fierce presence. She declared that dating men was dull and uninteresting. In battle, she was unstoppable-a true force to be reckoned with. She often trained Magus and me, but as time passed, it became clear her favor lay more with Magus for his superior talent... And his passives, I assume. Despite my hopes she would somehow warm up to me, she ended up closer to him, along with Millina.

Lalyn, the aloof ice dragon tamer, viewed other humans with disdain, despite being one herself. She only joined our party to help subdue a rogue dragon, and made it clear she was not interested in any prolonged association with us. However, Magus won her over shockingly fast-I even caught her feeding him with a spoon.

Mika and Rika, the master assassin sisters, excelled in stealth and detecting traps. Their expertise was unparalleled, and, unsurprisingly, they both fell for Magus as well. They took pity on me after numerous mishaps and deaths from unseen traps, deciding to teach me better ways to navigate and remain undetected.

Then there were me and Magus, rounding out the group. Together, we navigated countless challenges, though it often seemed like I was just along for the ride in Magus's Harem wagon, getting dragged by my feet and a rope... Who am I kidding, of course it was just that.

By the time we reached the Demon Lord's castle, he was a level 487 Mage/Beastamer/Paladin/Runemaster/Archer/Summoner, or a Legend Rank, according to this world's standards. Mostly just an attack mage, though. Out of preference.

I was still a level 22 Warrior because I didn't get to kill a lot of monsters, and couldn't share Magus' leveling buff thanks to my Dark Soul Passive. But thanks to my creative ways of dying horribly, my stats were those of a level 100 ~ 150 at that point, I got to C Rank. The rest of the party ranged around 200 to 300, all S-Class.

The only thing we lacked was a healer-based magician. But it wasn't a huge problem since Magus had some healing skills.

I figured we should beef up our numbers with even more girls since the enemies were getting tougher. The demons had figured out that Magus had an ability that weakened them, so they adjusted their tactics. But for some reason, he was completely against it.

"Haha... We should just get stronger on our own... What's the point of facing the Demon Lord with an army of girls... Haha... It doesn't make sense," he muttered, drops of sweat trickling down his forehead.

Now, I wasn't exactly thrilled seeing all the girls flock around him and none around me, but it didn't add up why he was so against the idea. I mean, I didn't suggest a guy join us—just more girls. Thought he'd be thrilled... but when I saw how shaken he was by the suggestion, I agreed to drop it.