Chapter 100
Chapter 100
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 100
Chapter Title: Ire Ruins (3)
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“What, it’s this underwhelming?”
As they walked through the ruins, Bazkal muttered in a hollow voice.
Just as he said, the ruin conquest proceeded without a single hitch.
The corridors and rooms, built entirely from crystals of an eerie hue and riddled with traps, bared no fangs as they allowed Arsen’s group passage.
At Bazkal’s grumbling, Maroon, who was handling Jin beside him, teased.
“If it’s boring, why don’t you go scout ahead alone?”
“Nah, you trying to get me killed or something?”
No matter what the two bantered about, Arsen silently held position in the center of the formation, checking the spacing ahead and behind.
The traps had already been disarmed, but that didn’t mean they could let their guard down completely.
He also didn’t want anyone finding out they’d disabled them, if possible.
A bit further in, as they entered a narrow passage, one soldier pointed ahead.
“Hey, that’s not...”
“Looks like it... Nah, don’t say it. Just gonna ruin the mood.”
The soldiers’ chatter drew everyone’s eyes, including Arsen’s.
The spot the soldier indicated was on the wall right by the passage exit—a lump of dark red mixed with white, stuck there like a stain.
Once you realized what it was, it wasn’t a pretty sight.
Several soldiers’ faces twisted in disgust, and Arsen noted how part of the trace trailed down to the floor.
Following it led—as expected—to similar marks on the opposite wall.
‘Crushing trap, huh...’
The traps in these ruins ranged from the light ones like spurts of fire or lightning, to sudden drops in room temperature, to physical attacks like spears or axe blades shooting from the walls.
Judging by the corpse’s state, this room’s trap must have been the type where the entire walls crushed inward, pulverizing the body.
The fact that the traces were still intact suggested the ‘cleaning’ cycle hadn’t run yet.
[Heard about it, but seeing it up close is way more brutal...]
[Yeah. Wonder how many would’ve died forcing through here.]
Tremors carried through the earring voices.
If that crushing trap had activated?
Alone, maybe he could’ve handled it, but in a large group like now, even Arsen in the center would’ve ended up as one of the wall’s paint smears.
No matter how fast or strong he was, shoving past comrades ahead or behind would’ve delayed him.
Probably only Eloise with her teleportation relic could’ve escaped.
Pressing on to a wider chamber, they found more presumed companions of that stain.
Corpses with necks burned away, chests crushed as if smashed by boulders through their armor, bodies sliced diagonally clean through.
Three bodies lay side by side.
Among them, the one whose head had burned off was a knight.
Slightly apart, another lay legless, a dagger in one hand and dark red pooling from the neck across the floor—unlike the others, he’d slit his own throat.
His build and attire marked him as a knight too.
Bazkal spoke in a hollow tone.
“Knights dying so pointlessly in a place like this...”
That’s when Arsen spotted a notebook placed on one corpse’s chest.
He immediately ordered Rino to retrieve it. Rino bowed briskly.
“Yes, Captain!”
Answering energetically, Rino spurred his mount and swiftly brought the notebook from atop the corpse to Arsen.
A small notebook crafted from fine parchment.
The densely packed writing inside explained how this excavation team had ended up like this.
They were the “Golden Trackers,” consisting of three knights, a guide with various skills, and a mage.
Their leader, the guide, had showcased his talents and tricks to breach the ruins, allowing them to reach depths no one else had.
But amid the awe, disaster struck.
The veteran guide scouting traps and paths ahead fell to an unexpected one, losing his life.
It was the fault of the knight meant to guard him—the writer of these words.
Lamenting briefly, they decided to retreat, but sadly, none besides the guide had trap-detection skills, nor could they even remember the way back properly.
Lost in familiar paths already. Yet they tried carrying the dead guide’s body—and later, the mage who died second on the way out.
Their brotherhood ran deeper than blood.
But when survivors outnumbered the dead, the two remaining knights chose to abandon the corpses.
No way two could haul three bodies.
They tidied their comrades’ remains with respect and resolved to escape together.
Unfortunately, as if cursed by the left-behind, the next passage held one of the deadliest: the crushing trap.
The writer survived legless, but the other became wall stain.
At that point, the last knight had no hope.
No one to carry or support him—a legless man couldn’t escape alone.
Unlikely anyone would come rescue this deep, let alone burden themselves with a crippled knight from a deep expedition.
Even if he escaped, what then without legs? Return home alone, having lost all comrades—what to say?
“...That’s it.”
After reading the notebook aloud, Arsen gazed quietly at the bodies.
In the end, the final survivor must have collapsed powerlessly beside his comrades.
Under the ceiling scattering brilliant light—as if mocking him—he’d written this by that glow.
And finally, slit his own throat.
What thoughts crossed that knight’s mind in his last moments? Regret for entering? Relief at the end? Despair?
Then Rino murmured.
“If we hadn’t come with the Captain, we’d be like that too...”
His words echoed in the silence, someone gulping hard.
The hush broke at Arsen’s order.
“First, gather their belongings.”
After salvaging intact items and possessions from the bodies, Eloise cremated them with flames.
Taking their goods meant affording the dead this much respect.
One relic armor went to Bazkal—lower quality than Arsen’s, but with size adjustment and auto-fit, not bad at all.
Afterward, no chit-chat as they traversed the ruins.
Those at the formation’s front and rear checked Arsen’s position almost neurotically, sometimes pressing so close their mounts nearly stepped on each other.
Unable to bear the tension and silence, Bazkal asked Arsen in an exaggerated tone.
“But bro, one knight died with his head burned off, right?”
“Yeah.”
Arsen didn’t care for the stifling quiet either, so he responded readily.
Sensing that, Bazkal’s voice gained confidence.
“Do the ruin traps pierce a knight’s magic resistance? Normal magic flames can’t hurt knights, right?”
Bazkal knew from training against mages.
Even Eloise’s strongest flames could be tanked by a well-armored knight squinting.
Arsen nodded calmly, recounting what he’d heard from Lasur before.
Knights’ innate magic resistance was so immense that ordinary spells barely harmed their flesh.
Illusions, paralysis, minor wounds—possible, but lethal strikes? Near impossible without special methods.
One exception: ancient ruin magic.
Ruin flames could pierce relic armor and knight resistance alike, incinerating flesh; hellish cold pierced to freeze solid.
The principle unknown, but only the strongest relic gear withstood ruin magic.
“So if fire or whatever pops from ruins, don’t underestimate—dodge. Tanking like against a mage? You’ll die.”
“Psh, with you around, no traps gonna hit us anyway.”
Arsen shook his head at Bazkal’s nonchalance.
They walked long like that until reaching a door like the first they’d opened.
Arsen in the middle ordered those ahead to step aside left and right, then placed his hand on the door.
“Open the door.”
With the familiar ruin voice, the door slid open.
* * *
Several kilometers from Ire Ruins, Rashuka of Iden surveyed the gathered comrades.
Twelve knights, thirty-three warriors, five mages—a massive group surpassing most excavation teams.
Among them, a hulking man calling himself “Hammerer Anvil” snarked back.
“All here. Count if you can do math.”
Rashuka swallowed rising ire at the blatant jab, smiling softly instead.
“Bad mood, Anvil?”
“Obviously. Told you I’m busy. This better be big, or you’ll regret it.”
“Of course. When have I ever let you down?”
Rashuka soothed him gently.
It looked comical, like placating a child, but Anvil seemed inwardly pleased.
Seeing the grin, Rashuka ground his teeth in humiliation.
‘Just you wait, you oversized oaf.’
Infuriating, but Hammerer Anvil was far stronger, his team mighty too.
Flawless in build, mana—plus three knights following him like brothers.
Then, a knight past fifty spoke.
“Let’s hear what it is. You said security’s key—didn’t say details.”
True—Rashuka had summoned usual contacts with “huge score opportunity.”
Normally absurd, but these had one trait: no qualms with immoral gains.
They guessed ‘security’ meant unethical plundering—and thus easy big rewards.
Rashuka’s track record of satisfying them let him rally and lead.
Not as leader, though.
“Neck-Snapper Arsen. Heard of him?”
“Yeah. Broke roaring Zanak’s neck barehanded.”
“Exaggerated? No way a kid snaps Zanak empty-handed—lucky break at best.”
Rashuka laughed in agreement at Anvil.
“Yeah, some hype probably. Point is, that Arsen took all Zanak’s relics. Wind Axe, Guard Armor—famous stuff.”
Anvil grinned intrigued.
Then pointed far off toward invisible Ire Ruins.
“So he’s in there?”
“Yep. This guy confirmed they entered.”
Rashuka patted his subordinate knight’s shoulder.
Not top fighter for a knight, but had vision-related gifts.
Letting them observe Arsen’s entry from impossibly far, undetected.
“Ambush at entrance when they fail and exit. Plenty rations, right?”
“Naturally.”
Nodding knights. Then the old one asked.
“What if they die inside? Wasted effort.”
Some knights nodded agreement, eyeing Rashuka expectantly.
He’d have an answer, surely.
“Word is, he’s tight with Dawn Excavators’ vice-captain. Know how cautious they are?”
“Mmm.”
Indeed, Dawn Excavators were caution incarnate among teams.
Targeting impossible ruins, hyper-sensitive to casualties, methodically analyzing breakthroughs.
“No way they go full wipe. Plus two Jins—upper relics and mechs. Even their regular warriors use relics. Plenty to split among us, yeah?”
Convinced, knights nodded.
Old knight then.
“How’d you learn they’re excavating here?”
“C’mon, no need for that among insiders.”
Rashuka brushed it off.
Casual question? Old knight just nodded. Rashuka flashed white teeth, declaring.
“Alright, let’s go. Rob ‘em blind!”
Soon after, they entered Ire Ruins.
Rashuka at the rear personally smashed Arsen’s group’s stele, replacing with Anvil’s-named one.
To block any approaching interferers.