Reborn as the 68th Demon Lord

The light of the summoning circle collapsed in on itself, folding into a single, silent point before winking out of existence. The oppressive darkness returned, but the cavern was no longer empty. In the center of the now-faded runes stood his gamble, his one and only hope.

It was… small.

It was a hunched, reptilian creature, barely three feet tall. Its scaly hide was the color of dust and rock, and it clutched a tiny, crudely-made rock hammer in one oversized, three-fingered hand. Its large, luminous yellow eyes, pupils like vertical slits, blinked slowly, filled not with ferocity, but with a timid, subservient curiosity. It looked around the cave, then its gaze fell upon him—or rather, the amorphous, quivering mass of purple slime that constituted his form—and it immediately bowed its head in a gesture of innate loyalty.

The System, ever helpful, provided a label.

[Familiar Summoned: Kobold Stonemason]

> Description: A low-tier demonic humanoid specializing in the identification, excavation, and construction of stone.

> Traits: [Geological Acuity], [Dexterous Hands], [Inherent Loyalty]

> Combat Potential: Negligible.

Valerius's consciousness felt like it was deflating. He had bet everything, his entire starting fortune, on a single roll of the dice, and he had summoned… a construction worker. A tiny, rock-tapping lizard with no combat skills to speak of. The despair that washed over him was cold and absolute. It was worse than summoning nothing; it was the universe providing him with a specific, tailored mockery of his hopes.

The rhythmic, scraping tremors from the tunnel intensified, shaking him from his stupor. The blinking red dot on his mental map was now at the very edge of the Core room. There was no more time.

The Crystal-Backed Cavern Crawler emerged from the tunnel. It was a horrifying fusion of insect and stone, a meter-long centipede-like creature whose body was plated with jagged, obsidian-sharp crystals. Its multiple legs scraped against the stone floor with a sound like grinding glass, and its powerful mandibles clicked together, dripping a viscous, pale green fluid that he knew, with chilling certainty, was the neurotoxin.

Its multifaceted eyes, devoid of anything but predatory hunger, fixed on the brightest source of Mana in the room: his Dungeon Core.

This was it. The end. His gamble had failed. The creature was here, and his only defender was a creature whose primary skill was knowing a good rock when it saw one.

But as the Crawler reared up, preparing to lunge, the cornered, desperate part of his human mind—the part that had pulled all-nighters to fix impossible logistical tangles, the part that found solutions when none existed—screamed in defiance. He couldn't think like a Demon Lord. A Demon Lord would have summoned a warrior. He had to think like a manager who had been given the wrong tool for the job. If the tool wasn't right, you didn't throw it away. You changed the job.

He stopped looking at the Kobold as a fighter and started looking at it as an asset with a specific skillset. [Geological Acuity]. [Dexterous Hands]. He frantically scanned the environment, not as a room, but as a system of potential weapons. The walls. The floor. The ceiling…

His focus snapped upwards. Directly above the tunnel entrance, hanging like a colossal spear of stone, was a massive, precariously balanced stalactite, probably weighing several tons. It was a natural deadfall trap, an accident waiting to happen. An accident he could perhaps… encourage.

There was no time for complex communication. He sent a single, desperate, primal command to his new familiar, a wave of pure intent that screamed UP! and projected a mental image of the stalactite.

The Kobold's yellow eyes widened in immediate comprehension. Its subservient timidity vanished, replaced by a focused, professional diligence. Its [Geological Acuity] trait allowed it to see what he had only guessed at: the stress fractures, the weak point at the stalactite's base, the perfect spot to strike.

As the Crawler lunged, not at him, but at the glowing Core, Valerius did the only thing he could. He moved. With a surge of will, his slime body oozed forward, placing himself directly in the monster's path. It was a pathetic, suicidal gesture, but it was all he had.

The Crawler, annoyed by the obstacle, swiped at him with a scythe-like leg. The blow was glancing, but the impact sent a shockwave of pure, decentralized agony through his formless body. He felt a part of his essence tear away. But it had worked. He had bought a single, precious second.

In that second, the Kobold moved with a speed that defied its small frame. It scrambled up the cavern wall, its claws finding purchase in the rough stone. It reached the ceiling, scurried over to the base of the stalactite, raised its tiny rock hammer, and struck the precise point he had envisioned.

It wasn't a mighty blow. It was a sharp, calculated tap.

A crack echoed through the cavern like a gunshot. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, with a deep, groaning roar, the massive spear of stone tore free from the ceiling.

It plummeted downwards, a missile of pure gravity. The Cavern Crawler, having just pushed past his damaged slime form, looked up from the Core, its multifaceted eyes registering the falling shadow a moment too late.

The impact was absolute. There was no glorious battle. There was only the brutal, unforgiving logic of physics. Tons of rock met a crystalline carapace, and the carapace lost. The creature was crushed flat, its body disappearing under the newly formed pile of rubble, a final, wet crunch echoing in the sudden, profound silence.

A notification chimed in Valerius's mind.

[Hostile Threat Neutralized. +50 DP Awarded.]

He slowly, painfully, pulled his damaged form back together. He looked at the mountain of shattered rock that had saved his life, and then at the small, dust-covered Kobold as it carefully climbed back down the wall. He hadn't summoned a warrior. He hadn't summoned a hero.

He had summoned the perfect tool. And for the first time since his reincarnation, the crushing despair was replaced by something new. A cold, sharp, and intensely focused thought: power wasn't just about strength. It was about having the right asset for the right problem.