The quest was meant to be their one breakthrough, the one chance they had to prove themselves.
And yet, it was not to be.
There were many snakes in the tunnel, but they did their best, stabbing each and every single one of them, turning them golden statues.
But there were simply too many. As both of them were circled, Asmodeos despaired. They wondered, truly wondered, if they were going to survive this.
Asmodeos ran a hand over his face.
He had not wanted to end up like this, he had not wanted to go to prison. All he wanted was a set of brand-new robes.
Was it too much to ask?
"Peter, if we survive this, I am going to apologize," for a Dark Lord, a Dark Lord as aged and as renowned as Asmodeos, this was pure torture.
But to be fair, calling him renowned was a bit of a stretch.
Asmodeos wasn't just a Dark Lord who wanted something, he was a Dark Lord who wanted the world, which was pretty much the dream of pretty much every single Dark Lord.
No Dark Lord could ever achieve that dream. Not even Nestor, who actually had his own palace, and a system, and brand-new robes every day, had managed to achieve The Dream.
"And just so you know, you're not the worst companion there is. There is room for improvement, but you are not the worst," Asmodeos said, a smile on his lips.
Peter could not handle it anymore.
It was time to trust in the higher powers. The powers which looked after the world.
He had to word his plea, this prayer, perfectly. If the spirits above managed to get a glimpse of even a single selfish desire in his prayer, he was probably going to end up eaten by the snakes.
The ground shook.
He looked around, noticing a giant snake's tail slowly approaching.
Just how big was the snake for its tail to be already poking through the tunnel? A tunnel he knew was wide and practically endless.
Peter gripped his sword, pressing it close to his heart.
"I know I'm not the strongest, or the nicest, or even the kindest," it took Peter a lot to admit all these things.
And yet, he was not someone who lied to himself.
"But if I'm given this chance, if by some divine intervention I survive, I promise I will quit being a quitter. I will promise everything you wish of me. There will be no quests undone; no stone unturned!"
Asmodeos blinked at the hero, then blinked at the ceiling of the cave. It didn't change colors, which meant that the prayer probably went unanswered.
That was their best-case scenario. After all, if the spirits above decided that Peter had said something selfish during the prayer, then they could easily turn him into fried chicken.
Asmodeos looked at the ceiling once more.
He was no hero. He was a Dark Lord. And yet, he decided he could be a hero!
For the gnomes, who were going to get eaten by the snakes, if both Peter and he fell.
For Peter, who had followed him for five gold coins per month and had never received even a copper for it.
And even for Mike, whom Asmodeos was yet to turn into fried chicken, despite wanting to.
"And if we survive this, I, Asmodeos, promise that we will turn a new leaf. I will save lives instead of targeting them. I will be a hero!"
Now, no one really knew what went on in the heads of the spirits above.
Some said that they didn't even have heads. Some even said that they were just gamers in a different world. And they, the creatures in the fantasy world, were just NPCs for them.
Asmodeos felt a light inside him. He groaned, knowing that from now on, he wouldn't be able to summon the necromantic mana, his greatest weapon.
That he would be able to revive people, and they would be healthy.
His whole act was now a thing of the past.
He had to find strength somewhere else, but that was okay. For as the snakes felt the holy mana, they turned tail and slithered away.
They had attacked out of necessity because they were animals, and animals were not cruel. No, they just did things because their instinct of self-preservation and their hunger made them.
Asmodeos looked at his robes, which were now black with white elements on them, and sighed.
Peter gasped.
He was wearing armor! That was real armor! He was wearing a gambeson!
He twirled around like a princess at her first ball.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, armor," Peter twirled around four more times.
Asmodeos just chuckled.
The necromancer, or better said, the former necromancer, scratched himself behind the head.
Now the quest was done. He was a hero. Peter was a hero, who was recognized as a hero, and not just a transmigrator who had taken on the title out of boredom.
They couldn't just kill all the snakes. None of the snakes had done anything.
They were just guarding their nest.
One couldn't blame animals for trying to survive, after all.
"Peter, let us go back to the gnomes. Let us spend the eternity by their side, bringing them food, washing their clothes, and fluffing their pillows!"
Peter looked at his armor, then at the ceiling, then at Asmodeos, who looked fetching in his robes.
The transmigrator smiled.
"You know, that's a nice life," he said, as he offered his hand to the former Dark Lord. The mage grinned, taking his offered hand and bringing Peter close.
They hugged one another, for they were full of light and the power of friendship, which was an affliction all heroes had.
And so, as they went back through the tunnels, with the little loot they had managed to collect, knowing full well that they had failed the quest, they expected many things.
They expected that their new charges were going to great them with applause and flower petals, which was strange because the gnomes couldn't get any flower petals in the dungeon.
But what they couldn't expect, however, was the sight of the dark gnomes mingling with the normal gnomes, eating cookies, speaking about revolution, and wearing red robes.
"They're taking after you, I'm blaming you. Come on," Asmodeos scrunched up his nose.
There was no stopping children when they wanted to grow up. He knew that he still wanted to make it so that Peter knew that it was his fault.
Out of habit.
"Oh yes, now I'm a hero and I can help the gnomes too. Wait, don't tell me they're activists!"
Peter went to the nearest gnome, who was preaching on a platform. The gnome handed him a cookie.
"We are the order of Divine Happiness," the gnome said, more than a little happy about the name. "And we will spread our happiness to all corners of the world!"
That sounded like a terrible war was coming, but he didn't care. The gnomes were happy, he was a hero and as a hero, he had to champion a cause.
Why not champion the attempt of little green-haired creatures with hollow bones to take over the world?
He wanted to see how it was going to go, and, if nothing else, he could simply protect the gnomes as they explored the world and helped people, while doing some sightseeing.
Because they were good and kind.
What could possibly go wrong?