Chapter 129
Chapter 129
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 129
Chapter Title: Mourning and the Spear-Thrower
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The elevator platform finally reached the top, and the ceiling slid open, unleashing a cascade of sand.
It was only natural, considering the thing had been buried in the middle of the desert.
What greeted them upon reaching the surface was darkness. An early evening where the red sunset faintly tinged the distant horizon.
It really drove home just how much time had passed.
"Let's send up the signal to link up first."
Even the boldest raiders wouldn't linger in a place like this, and with evening fallen, the magic beasts would be asleep too—no real dangers around.
After launching a few bursts of flame to paint the sky, shapes appeared in the distance: their comrades approaching.
"They're here..."
The group approached leisurely at first, but then one of the knights must have relayed that something was off about the party's state, because they suddenly picked up speed.
Arsen spotted Eloise at the forefront, riding Jin.
*Be careful. It's dangerous.*
The thought had barely crossed his mind when her voice crackled through the earring.
[What the hell happened!?]
* * *
They set up camp right next to the exit, then got to work treating the wounded.
Arsen received hands-on care from Eloise himself, while Marun and the two mages were tended to by other mages capable of healing spells.
"Urgh."
Fixing his arm wasn't easy.
It had been shattered into a zigzag mess—compound fractures so bad that even Earth's medicine might not have guaranteed full use afterward.
Healing spells weren't miracle cures either, so to prevent the bones from knitting wrong, they had to rebreak and reset the mended sections multiple times.
The process was nothing short of torture.
"How did this even happen?"
At Eloise's question, Arsen explained what he'd seen inside.
Contrary to expectations, a ruin tinged red. The bizarre lifeforms encountered within. And finally, the assault by those combat puppets.
When he finished, Eloise just let out a short, heavy sigh.
A sigh laced with relief and regret.
"...You got lucky."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
Same words, different meanings.
Eloise meant he'd survived a deadly situation by luck. Arsen meant they were lucky she hadn't come along.
If she'd been there—if he'd had to protect her—Arsen wouldn't have fought coolly.
The irony of it made him smile bitterly.
Eloise eyed his sudden grin oddly.
"What?"
"Nah, nothing."
A moment later, Arsen stood and lightly stomped his foot a few times, confirming his ankle was healed.
"Recovery complete. Feeling alive again—thanks."
"Please take better care of yourself. Don't forget to grab any pieces if something gets cut off."
Grinning sheepishly at her nagging, Arsen rose and checked on his armor under repair.
Eloise wasn't fixing it. She was a skilled smith, sure, but relics were beyond even her.
No modern mage-smith had reached that level.
The armor had a built-in auto-repair function. It didn't fix itself for free, of course—it ran on absorbed mana.
Arsen had burned through too much mana fighting, so he borrowed from other knights and mages with some to spare.
Right now, Reno was diligently pumping mana into it.
"Not too tough? Things weren't easy up top for you guys either."
"I'm fine! Can't fight alongside the captain when it's risky, so this is the least I can do."
Sweat dripping from mana expenditure, Reno grinned as he said it.
A short while later, Arsen gathered the knights.
With Anun, Bazkal, and Reno assembled, Arsen gave a quick rundown of what had gone down below.
Once he finished, Anun scratched his head in disbelief.
"Stumbling into a ruin by accident... Good luck or bad? Hard to say."
He had a point. Ruins weren't common unless you hit a freak concentration like a ruin city.
An estate might uncover two or three at most.
Stumbling onto one by chance could be called fortune, but getting dragged into the unexpected mess, fighting shorthanded, and suffering casualties? No luck there.
"We snagged a few relics at least, but now's not the time to check 'em out."
"Yeah."
Arsen and the knights turned their gazes as one.
Toward where the Starburmi mages had gathered separately.
The mages were collecting cacti and such from around, stacking them into a small altar.
Normally it'd be wood, but in the desert, wood was scarce—they were making do with cacti.
"They're going all out. We don't do stuff like that."
Bazkal muttered blankly, staring at it.
Back in Narvik, you just dug a hole and buried 'em—what was the point of all that? No mockery in his tone. Just puzzlement.
That was the mindset of someone born and raised where lives came cheap, born often, died often.
"Mages are rare, so they've got tight camaraderie."
"It's a hassle for sure, but it's cool. If I went out like that, wouldn't be so bad."
Anun said it with a hint of envy.
"How do they do it in Elta?"
"We just bury 'em too. The soul's already off with the war god—what's left is just a shell."
"I see."
Thinking about it, the funeral customs in Belluan where Arsen had lived, or Crata, weren't exactly advanced.
Put the body in a coffin, bury it. Gather relatives and friends for a small wake to console—that was the difference.
Then the corpses went outside the walls for space reasons. Only some nobles got buried inside.
*Nothing to brag about.*
Soon after, the mages' funeral began.
The two dead mages were no longer wrapped in green blankets. Shrouded head to toe in white cloth as their burial garb, their bodies lay atop the cactus altar.
One mage explained they'd prepared eleven sheets before leaving their first ruin. As a precaution for their own deaths.
Now two were used.
The nine surviving mages slowly circled the two corpses.
Marun had shed his usual armor and joined their ranks.
Moments later, they each raised a hand to the sky, conjuring birds of flame and sending them aloft one by one.
It was a familiar sight to Arsen. He'd often seen Eloise practicing it as a kid.
One bird, two... finally nine flame birds wheeled above the bodies.
Against the pitch-black sky like a canvas, the burning birds traced fiery paths—like a single painting.
How long they flew, who knew. Exhausted, the birds descended to the altar, one by one in order.
Then they dissolved into shapeless flames.
As the altar blazed spectacularly, a song began.
A low, mournful dirge for comrades lost forever, drifting over the silent desert.
The pyre's glow cast rising shadows that danced hazily, mingling with the song.
* * *
The next day, they examined the relics from the ruin.
Impressive haul. Potent weapons, sure, but also magitech tools for various uses. Even one like the water-maker from before, but smaller and handier.
Among them, Arsen picked a rod. Forearm-length, with a spoon-like end.
It didn't look like a weapon at first glance, but after seeing its shape and reading its functions, Arsen chose it immediately.
It was called a spear-thrower.
"That really gonna help?"
Marun tossed the puzzled question at Arsen, who was fondly stroking the spear-thrower.
As Arsen opened his mouth to reply, a magic beast appeared in the distance.
A massive lizard-thing scuttling on six legs.
Arsen pointed it out.
"See for yourself."
He slotted a javelin onto the spear-thrower's end, then drew his arm back.
Twisting his body until every muscle strained taut, he unleashed in a fluid whip-like motion.
"Hah!"
With a whoosh, the javelin streaked across the desert. Faster than even a knight could track.
Lightning-quick, it crossed hundreds of meters in a blink, slamming into a low dune.
Where the beast approaching them happened to be.
A boom echoed, like something exploding.
So much sand flew up, it was hard to see the result right away.
He hadn't triggered the explosion enchantment on the javelin—this was raw destructive power.
Once the sand settled, the beast's corpse came into view, blasted like it'd taken a cannon shell.
Instant death, naturally.
"Ooh..."
Marun had adventured alongside and seen Arsen's javelin throws before. This one was way faster and stronger than his barehanded tosses.
Watching Marun's awe, Arsen said,
"A normal spear-thrower wouldn't help much. But this one's special."
Back in Belluan, Arsen had learned javelin from Palato. The estate's finest at it.
His first question had been why no spear-thrower.
Thinking maybe the concept didn't exist, he'd even handcrafted a primitive one to demonstrate.
*Wouldn't this make throwing way easier?*
*Ah, they were used long ago. Better for pure distance, sure... but better to show than tell. Give it a try.*
Surprisingly, using the spear-thrower produced worse results than a hand throw.
It started faster but lost speed quick to air resistance, and impact was pathetic.
Palato explained it failed to transmit mana properly.
Mana.
The mystical power shared by mages and knights—knights mainly used it to empower gear.
Make blades sharper, armor and shields tougher.
A mana-infused steel sword could slice a normal one; a mana shield block what should pierce.
Thrown weapons like javelins needed hand contact right up to release for proper mana infusion.
*With a detached tool like this, mana transmission cuts the instant the javelin leaves the thrower. Can't infuse it well.*
Even his occasional trick of using Jin's tail to throw counted as a gimmick for the same reason.
There went one of Arsen's "modern guy isekai invention projects."
But this spear-thrower solved it.
When a javelin was loaded, it linked mana as intimately as holding barehanded.
It even added thrust by recoiling at the base on release.
Arsen's throws now hit with force even top knights hesitated to take. He himself might get badly hurt or killed if caught off-guard.
In raw speed and power, it surpassed Palato by miles. Precision lagged, though.
*Gotta train more.*
First time using one—his throw had missed the aimed spot by a good margin.
He'd gone for the head; it hit the lower belly. Power killed in one anyway, but against human-size? Might've whiffed entirely.
"First, the javelin..."
"I'll fetch it!"
Reno shouted and raced off on Jin.
* * *
After testing a few relics, they set out again for more ruins.
Had to find the slab-bearing one they'd planned on originally.
They marked the "red palace" ruin with a flag, hunted a few more sand predators while patrolling, and located their real target.
To avoid another surprise ruin, they'd prepped a fix.
Simple: tie a rope to the first explorer, check, and haul back up.
"Found it! It's blue!"
Everyone cheered at Bazkal's shout after barely climbing back up the rope.
Just in case, Arsen led four knights this time—all in. Accepting the risk to those left topside.
But their precautions proved needless. As a Starburmi-vetted site, it posed no threats.
They claimed the relics left behind, and secured the third slab.
As he shattered it, Arsen recited the inscription.
"First clue: we."
One clue left—the final one at the ruin where they'd reunite with Starburmi.
Only one Starburmi-visited ruin remained with a clue.
Arsen pondered the clues.
First: we. Third: sailed. Fourth: to here.
He'd learn soon enough, but still...
*What did "we" sail to arrive here?*