Chapter 85
Chapter 85
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 85
Chapter Title: Calypso's Nightmare
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Rumble!
But the moment they stepped outside, a whirlwind of lightning made it clear this wouldn't be an easy trip. The downpour intensified. Jeanne, standing beside her, let out a groan, as if she didn't want to go. It was audible even over the rain—too clear to ignore. Having heard it, Judah couldn't in good conscience drag her along. Once they entered the dungeon, there'd be no rest even if they wanted it. Sensing her hesitation, Jeanne glanced back at Judah with a troubled expression and called her name softly.
"Judah..."
"No."
Judah could guess what she was about to say, so she cut her off before she could speak. Of course, Judah herself wanted to rest today and leave tomorrow, but she was too anxious for that.
Too many things were out of place.
A village that shouldn't have had any survivors was teeming with them. Arhil, of all people, was here when she least expected it... and now she wondered if Edron might still be alive too. Above all, the thought gnawed at her that the master of [Calypso's Nightmare] might actually succeed in whatever ritual they were performing.
"Let's go quick and get back to rest. If we rest today, we'll be walking in the rain tomorrow too. This is better, right?"
"...Yes."
Jeanne had no rebuttal. She looked dissatisfied but followed silently behind. Fortunately, the path through the northern forest was sheltered by thick branches and leaves overhead, softening the rain. Walking the forest trail in silence, Judah diligently checked her to locate the dungeon. As proof, the woods were growing darker—not a natural phenomenon, but traces of artificial magic. Aware of this, Jeanne had slowed her steps, vigilantly scanning the surroundings.
"But aren't we going too deep? I heard you learned tracking from Gentia, but in this situation... I doubt his trail is still here."
It was a suggestion to turn back. Fair enough—two hours in, and no gains. It felt like a waste of time, especially with dusk approaching. But unfortunately, her timing was off. Judah spotted a faint trace.
"Look over there."
In the direction Judah pointed, a sword lay abandoned at the base of a tree, as if tossed there. If it had been stuck in the ground, it might've looked better. Judah walked over with Jeanne and picked it up. The blade was sharp, well-maintained, with no chips or breaks.
"There's a scabbard too."
Jeanne picked up a scabbard peeking from the underbrush and examined it closely before nodding.
"It belongs to that Edsen fellow. Check it yourself."
Judah took the scabbard. At its tip, the words 'Aslan - Edsen' were engraved. Sliding the sword in, it fit perfectly.
"You're right. A sword like this doesn't end up here by chance, so given the circumstances, we can assume it's Edron's."
Her tone carried a hint of acting, but Jeanne didn't seem to mind.
"So if the sword was abandoned here..."
"Probably means he's dead, right?"
Judah replied indifferently, stowing the sword and bronze plaque in her <Bag>. She'd return it to Aslan later. Turning to suggest they move on, she saw Jeanne's eyes wide open. Likely shocked at how casually she'd mentioned death.
"What? Didn't you think the same, Jeanne?"
"Well, yes, but..."
She trailed off. Even without mind-reading, Judah knew what she meant. How could she speak of another's death so lightly? Judah said nothing more.
'Well, he could still be alive.'
The village had survived, and a priest like Arhil was here. Edron might have cockroach-like vitality, twisting fate to live on. If so, her plan to lure Jeanne into the dungeon by baiting with his death would backfire... but it wouldn't matter.
"Since we found the sword, let's look around a bit more before heading back."
Judah felt the game's story unfolding in her mind, like a painting from the player's perspective. Sword found—next, the corpse, likely nearby.
"Ah! Over there."
Deeper in, Jeanne pointed and cried out. A skeleton clad in white bones lay face-down on the wet earth. Half-buried in mud from the rain. As Judah and Jeanne approached, it crumbled with a crunch—reduced to powder and washed away by the rain before they could react.
"......"
Only leather clothes remained. Digging them out, Judah rummaged the pockets and found a bronze plaque. The front read <Edron> clearly. The name—and body—they sought. Before Judah could speak, Jeanne approached, checked the plaque, sighed softly, and scanned around.
"Judah, something's off."
"Yes?"
"It's not hot, so it couldn't decay this fast to just bones. Rain would make it bloat grotesquely instead. Even if a beast or monster ate him, it wouldn't look this natural. And I've never heard of bones turning to powder in rainwater."
She touched a nearby tree. At contact, powdery bark dissolved in the rain, sticking黏ily to her hand. She clenched and released it, watching it wash away. Lifeless. Not just this tree—everything nearby.
"And with this rain, plants dying off? Highly suspicious, isn't it?"
Things were going smoothly. No explanation needed—Jeanne grasped it. She scanned warily, then shed her coat and robe, summoning armor, shield, and spear—fully armed. In the dim forest, her silver plate gleamed brighter.
"Then let's take a closer look."
Surprisingly, the eager-to-return Jeanne nodded readily. Deeper along the path, leaves tinged purple—clear signs of dying. Jeanne led, and per the , she headed straight for the dungeon. She uncanny found hidden paths, making Judah wonder if she knew of it. Finally, they arrived.
A building stood there. An antique mansion.
Amazingly, it hadn't been visible from afar—appearing like magic up close.
"Way too obviously suspicious."
Jeanne murmured, gazing up. True enough. A purple veil shrouded it entirely, like the village priest's protective barriers. Nearby plants withered completely.
"I hear warlocks in Calypso hide in remote mountains or valleys for shady experiments... What now, Judah? Back to the village and return? Or go in now?"
Judah pondered. Fetch priest Arhil from the village?
She'd planned to enter with just Jeanne, but now at the entrance, three seemed better. Undead ghouls and wraiths inside gave pause, but she dismissed it.
"No, let's go in now."
Judah approached the veil. Rain slid down its surface—physical barrier. Summoning Artemisia, she struck; cracks spiderwebbed, shattering instantly. Dry ground soaked rapidly.
"Hmm—doesn't it feel uneasy? Who knows what that warlock rigged..."
Home turf—natural to worry about traps.
"Then I'll lead. If combat starts, you take point, Jeanne."
"No. Judah, let me lead. Shield makes it safer. I can block any traps."
Before Judah could argue, Jeanne advanced, opened the mansion door, and entered. Faintly glowing magic lanterns lit the interior.
"Footprints...?"
No dust layer—instead, numerous muddy shoe prints. Recently, many had come. Only entries, no exits—likely all dead.
"This way."
No need to search everywhere. Following prints led to a hall and basement stairs at the end. No attempt to hide. Wide enough for shielded Jeanne, high ceiling with spaced lanterns—well-lit descent.
At bottom, a spacious room connected to the hall. Study-like, with fine carpet and bright lights—cozier than upstairs.
'What's that smell?'
Sniffing, Judah recognized the familiar scent.
"Coffee?"
As she spoke, a door to the left creaked open. A disheveled man emerged—haggard face, unkempt beard, square glasses. Holding a steaming mug, he eyed Jeanne and Judah on the stairs. Fully armed Jeanne raised her shield.
"Guests, I see."
He sipped his coffee, murmuring. Steam fogged then cleared his lenses. Unfazed by intruders. Judah, however, was stunned.
'Count Jinmu!'
Master of the [Calypso's Nightmare] dungeon.