Chapter 152
Chapter 152
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 152
Chapter Title: Subterranean People (4)
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[Chapter 151 - Subterranean People (3)]
The battle with the surviving snares was lackluster.
There weren't many left to begin with, and they'd lost the will to fight after getting hit by the wave of lightning that burst out like bombs.
Arsen and the knights mercilessly plunged their weapons into the backs and napes of the fleeing snares.
While the knights butchered the survivors, the soldiers mounted their riding beasts and circled around, forming a tight encirclement to ensure none escaped.
"Kugh!"
A head flying off, caught by the axe blade's wind.
Arsen wasn't satisfied with merely felling his opponents; he thoroughly decapitated them and stabbed their hearts to make sure they were dead.
The other knights did the same.
They had once considered sparing some to see if they could be useful, but now that they knew these things summoned their kin just by being alive, that wasn't an option.
Moreover, given that they had language, letting even one escape would mean all their information got passed on.
Only after obsessively killing every last one could the knights finally breathe a sigh of relief.
"All dead? Any that got away?"
"None. I killed the one at the very back."
Anun spoke confidently with a grin.
His spear had pierced through one snare's chest, and dozens of thorns had burst out from inside, shredding its internals into a gruesome mess.
After a moment, he manipulated the spear this way and that, retracting the thorns with a squelch, allowing him to finally pull it free.
"The more I use this spear, the more I like it."
His pleased smile clashed hilariously with the ragdoll-like corpse of the snare, but Arsen just shook his head.
Then he turned to Timak and asked,
"This place reeks too much of blood to stay. And more snares might come. Could you recommend somewhere better to rest?"
He didn't need to spell out something like, "Like your home base."
Timak nodded, clearly catching the hint.
A strange expression mixed fear and joy on his face.
"I'll guide you to our settlement. It's a bit far, but with those mounts you're riding, we'll get there quick."
He pointed to the riding beasts carrying Arsen's soldiers and mages.
Gathered from various regions, they included mountain goats, horses, wolves—every shape imaginable.
Thanks to these excellent mounts, they could move quickly over long distances even with a large number of elderly and children in tow.
Bonus: the underground seemed affected by the sun's cycle, as the beasts dozed off periodically, letting them distinguish day from night and track dates.
"Sounds good. Lead the way."
* * *
The path to the subterranean people's home base was quite convoluted.
From one side passage to another, crossing yet more side passages without pause.
Arsen made a rough map along the way, so retracing steps should be feasible, but for proper operations, they'd need local guides—or time to get familiar through extended activity here.
Mapmaking he delegated to others, as he had his own task: conversing with Timak, the leader of these subterraneans.
"I have a question."
"Ask away."
"How'd you get down here? We're told the way to the surface is beyond the snares' territory up ahead. Is there really a path to the surface that way? At least a way through the snares' domain?"
His expression was desperate; he seemed ready to head up immediately if he knew how.
Arsen shook his head, dashing his hopes.
"We came from the north. Probably the opposite direction from what you call the snares' territory."
"North? Which way is that?"
From further talk, directions here were based on the main passage: south was ahead, north behind.
Using that frame, Arsen explained in terms they could grasp.
"So, we came through that big passage earlier, from way further back than here. Quite far."
Hearing they'd come from the north, Timak muttered in disbelief.
"No one's ever returned from going that way. That's why venturing beyond the rear border was one of the taboos. Even the snares avoid it, so we believed something scarier lived there..."
"Come to think of it, there was still miasma lingering in the rear."
"Miasma?"
Timak didn't even grasp the concept, so Arsen kindly explained.
The story of the polluted atmosphere filling the surface world they'd never seen.
"Anyone who went deep that way probably died from the miasma. Knights and trained warriors can endure it, though."
"Some who went back included guardians."
"Then... maybe you and the other underground folk have no resistance to miasma at all, Timak."
"Hmm."
Arsen wondered if this tied to why they could drink magic beast blood without turning into raiders. Or maybe a difference in their combat puppet origins.
Even without the miasma issue, their destination was south anyway, so they couldn't detour north just to open a door for them.
"I see. The surface really is hell like the legends say..."
Timak and his comrades looked grim; they'd inwardly hoped for surface life seeing Arsen's group.
After a pause, Timak asked,
"But why'd you come underground? To escape that miasma you mentioned?"
"No, nothing like that."
Arsen skipped details, saying only they sought to bypass surface threats via these tunnels to reach their goal.
Hearing the destination, Timak shook his head.
"That far... it's certain. To get there, you'll have to cross the snares' territory. Up ahead, there's a section where side paths won't cut it—you need the main road, and that's their domain."
He even sketched a simple map for clarity.
Arsen sighed inwardly.
If true, war with the snares was inevitable to pass through.
"How many snares are there?"
"No idea. Can't take prisoners easily with their nature, so no intel..."
Then, uncertainly added,
"They post just a few scouts or sentries per sector, so probably not endless numbers. At most a few thousand, maybe ten thousand."
"That's... better than I thought."
If hundreds of thousands garrisoned there, he'd consider retreating to the surface—but that many, guerrilla hit-and-runs could handle.
Humans aside, snares didn't ride mounts, so mobility favored Arsen's side.
Plus, they had overwhelming mages—snares' natural counters.
'Stay at their base first, gather more intel.'
No need to rush into war if Timak lied or was wrong.
Maybe bypass routes existed, or more snares than thought.
Afterward, Arsen kept conversing with Timak.
To learn underground common knowledge, lifestyles, info.
"You make those crossbows yourselves?"
"Aye. Invented by some craftsman long ago—perfect for snares, so we favor them. Shame is, after they kidnapped some human artisans, the snares armed up with crossbows too."
On surface, large magic beasts relegated crossbows—even bows—to hunting tools, but here, human-sized foes spurred such weapons.
"How many humans down here?"
"We don't know. We don't all live together—communes large, families small... If we all gathered, maybe thousands. Or less."
Timak explained humans scattered in splinter groups across vast side passages; mage groups got top treatment.
Next knights—or guardians—theirs got respect; mechanic-savvy groups traded crossbows and tools for protection.
'Numbers similar, but... humans far weaker as a species. Even numbers, they'd lose.'
Likely one snare equaled ten ordinary human warriors.
Plus night vision meant one-sided crossbow fire in darkness.
Explained why humans were pushed back.
"Look at this. Tells time."
He proffered a pocket watch, astonishingly. No idea what they based time on without sun.
"...Impressive."
Rare even on surface; Arsen genuinely admired these scattered few achieving such tech.
Timak beamed proudly at him.
"But don't underestimate snare tech. No clue how, but they make magic-infused items."
"Relics?"
"Relics? That's the word? Anyway, like that armor you're wearing."
That recalled Eloise's words.
The relic making large arrows for the launcher—recent make.
Snares seemed able to craft permanent relics. Amazing, as surface magic stuck to disposables.
They supplemented lacking engineering via human slaves.
"Snares have mages?"
"Never seen. If any, probably just make magic items in their base."
Arsen nodded, filing it away.
Then, one deferred question:
"How many live where we're headed?"
"About a hundred. Biggest group nearby. And one more guardian protecting the base."
Arsen nodded flatly, hiding inner admiration at not seeming dismissive.
Three knights in a hundred—vastly higher ratio than Belluan's dozens amid tens of thousands.
Makes sense: everyone here fought daily for survival, unlike Belluan's warrior class only.
Or maybe higher knight awakening odds here.
Then Timak joked, eyeing Arsen,
"Surface has gem-eye bloodlines too, huh. Those eyes made me think you were underground folk at first."
"Gem eyes? What's that?"
"Huh? People with... special eyes like yours. There's groups with 'em down here."
Arsen's violet eyes, inherited from mother, were rare worldwide—east like Belluan, nowhere.
West had rare purplish, but deep blue reflecting light; not Arsen's constant pansy-violet.
Arsen stayed calm, carefully proposing,
"Could we meet them sometime?"
"Interested? They're clannish, no guarantees... but I'll arrange. Planning to introduce you to groups soon anyway."
Mid-sentence, metallic clangs ahead—like kicking cans.
Instantly, two crossbows popped from obstacles ahead.
"Halt!"
"Hey, human! Answer! No answer, we shoot!"
Shockingly, shrill barks from boy and girl voices. Knight vision let Arsen spot young faces clearly.
Early-mid teens at most; crossbows looked heavy for them.
Timak replied warmly,
"Good watch, you two. Rata, Oru."
"Uncle Timak?"
"You beat the snares?"
Joy mixed caution as girl grabbed boy's shoulder stopping his rush, stern:
"Could be a monster stealing Uncle Timak's voice. Mole belly fat!"
"Boiled with yellow moss powder's best. Too bland for me, though."
"Uncle!"
Through this baffling exchange, convinced real, the boy and girl lowered crossbows and ran up.
Timak scooped one under each arm, spinning gleefully.
Giggling wildly after rounds, set down, they finally noticed folk behind him, gasping,
"Who're they? Other group?"
Timak chuckled merrily,
"Nope. They're from the surface."
The kids gaped wide.