Festival (3)
The two managers' expressions soured considerably.
At first, they had blustered that it was merely one rogue individual acting out, but it wasn't long before the exact same thing happened again. Once the first line is crossed, the second and third breaches follow in rapid succession. People quickly realize that this is how they get what they want. Rather than working together to overcome the crisis, they begin looking out solely for their own bellies.
After all, they are trapped. They can do nothing. Nothing they do will change their predicament. Why not secure whatever advantage they can while there is still time?
If provisions run out, whoever has eaten a bit more will outlast the rest. If someone secures a weapon beforehand, even the powerless can exert force. Once those holding weapons band together and draw lines, they can hoard the food and keep starvation at bay. They can monopolize the blankets and furs, kindle fires, and endure the agonizing cold. And in the end, when the conviction sets in that reinforcements will never arrive, they will resort to anything to be the last ones standing—even if it means casting aside their very humanity.
Such was the natural reaction of men whose composure had frayed, swallowed whole by dread and madness.
"...What should we do?"
"Hey! You're not actually thinking of listening to this punk, are you?!"
"What choice do we have? If this goes on... we won't last long."
Calculating profit and loss was a merchant's second nature. As anxiety mounted, the value of time soared far beyond that of mere coin. With both the guild members and the hired outsiders growing increasingly disgruntled, the managers had likely foreseen the catastrophic losses waiting just down the road.
"Tell us. What must be done?"
The more reasonable of the two managers was the first to ask.
Beside him, the middle-aged manager who had been screaming at the top of his lungs fell silent, deliberately averting his gaze as if unable to refute the reality before them. Only now did the pair truly grasp the gravity of their situation, recalling the measures Junon had offered to devise.
"We are mere merchants ignorant of magic, so we need your answer. Earlier, you mentioned doing something with the wagons carrying mana stones."
"You saw it earlier, didn't you? Gunpowder and firecrackers alone aren't enough to blast through the blocked passage."
"Indeed. That's why we were merely sending distress signals. We simply lacked the firepower."
"A mana stone is nothing more than a rock holding unrefined mana. By exploiting that property, we can use them as a substitute for fuel. Furthermore, the black smoke released when a mana stone detonates will likely be recognized by the Academy as a clear distress signal."
"Wh-What...?!"
The manager finally understood what Junon had meant by consuming the mana stones. He intended to gather the vast supply contained inside the wagons and detonate them all at once like a colossal bomb.
"Have you lost your damn mind?! Why don't you just say you want to die, huh?!"
"Are you in your right mind...? If you do something like that, none of us will survive unscathed..."
The two managers erupted in fury at Junon's proposal. It was hardly surprising; he was talking about setting an explosive charge right against the rock face in front of their faces. Detonating such a blast in close quarters was hazardous enough on its own... but there was a far graver threat lurking behind it.
"Ignorant of magic I may be, but even I know what a mana storm is! Did you not even consider that?!"
"He's right. Aren't you taking splash-out far too lightly? And to suggest using that as a signal, of all things..."
The sooty cloud that arose from incinerating mana stones was darker than any ordinary smoke. It whipped up a tempest of demonic energy—a phenomenon known as a mana storm, or a splash-out.
So they know that much, at least.
Every living creature on the continent had adapted to absorbing demonic energy to some degree, but there was always a threshold. Consequently, all living things had to refine this energy to maintain a steady equilibrium within their bodies. Among them, humans were the most adept at refining it. However, if a human body inhaled an overwhelming amount of demonic energy beyond its capacity, the time required to process and purge it increased dramatically.
It was much like the intricate digestive process of breaking down trace toxins into nutrients. Just as excessive poison proved fatal, demonic energy functioned the exact same way.
The accumulation of such turbid mana wrought devastating effects—starting with paralysis of nerves and cells, escalating through various symptoms of toxicity. In the worst case, it could trigger a Mana Rampage, just as Charlotte had suffered during the Start-of-Semester Evaluation.
Detonating a massive quantity of mana stones in this enclosed cavern would inevitably force everyone to inhale that turbid mana. Continued exposure would induce acute poisoning, and prolonged exposure would progress beyond agony to certain death.
Small wonder they were screaming in protest. A single misstep meant they would all perish.
"Since you're already familiar with the risks, this will be easier to explain. You're right. Doing this will cause a splash-out. And with the path blocked at both ends, the symptoms of mana poisoning will set in even faster."
"You know that, and yet you're telling us to go through with such madness...?"
"No. I have a way. A way to prevent everyone from succumbing to mana poisoning. Of course, we will have to be mindful of the unstable geological strata."
"Such a thing is possible?!" they blurted in unison.
Both managers stared at him with undisguised suspicion. Then again, anyone would have reacted the same way.
"For now, go tell the guild members that we'll be escaping this place. Before another riot breaks out."
The two managers gathered the members to offer a word of encouragement. Clinging to newfound hope, everyone began rechecking the contents of the wagons and carts. Quite a few items looked useful, but the most crucial element remained the quantity of mana stones.
The mana stones in a single wagon wouldn't be enough to shatter the blockage.
"How many wagons are carrying mana stones?"
"Four."
Two might have fallen short, but four changed everything. An even number, perfectly suited for the task.
"There's one more thing you must tell me. Though... this might be difficult."
The reason Junon had hesitated to broach this topic was that it required breaking a foundational rule the Lewen Merchant Guild clung to so stubbornly. Asking someone to discard a personal quirk was one thing, but asking them to shatter a policy preserved through long generations was no light matter.
Yet the managers knew all too well how perilous their predicament was.
"Speak without hesitation. We have to break through this crisis one way or another."
"I agree, for now. As insane as it sounds, we have no other way out."
They were merchants. They never squandered time or information, and their mental arithmetic far outstripped that of ordinary folk. Seeing the members' reactions, they had already deduced what would unfold in the minutes to come, and they had already run the numbers on a proposal that any commoner would have deemed sheer insanity. Thanks to that, Junon was spared the trouble of racking his brain to persuade them.
"To fulfill the final condition, I need to know our current combat strength."
It was the ultimate taboo of the Lewen Merchant Guild. He was asking them to reveal the identities of their members.
"I'm sorry. That... is going to be difficult."
"It looks like you're trying to gather anyone with combat power, but that's a problem in itself. We haven't even told the members yet."
"Why is that a problem?"
He was merely trying to assemble the capable fighters to resolve the crisis. At first, Junon found their reluctance baffling.
"Oh dear... You've considered their perspective, but you haven't put yourself in our shoes."
"Listen closely."
The two managers calmly explained their reasoning to the perplexed Junon.
I suppose that makes sense. Especially after telling them we'd use mana stones as explosives.
That was precisely why they hadn't shared the full details of this reckless scheme with the guild members.
If they hear the details, they'll push back, calling it an absurd suicide mission. That would cause the strong to band together, triggering the exact danger we're trying to avoid...
Junon had oversimplified things, treating it like an Academy team taking down a magical beast. He had assumed it would be like dividing roles and power within a squad, but the people here were entirely different.
In Class D and Class C, students differed in their mana metrics. It was relative, but you could distinctly categorize them into the strong and the weak based on those numbers. Yet did mana metrics hold any meaning here?
No. This wasn't the Academy. If an announcement were made and lines were drawn, the group would split into those who could wield mana and those who couldn't. Those with power would band together, inevitably leading to the ruthless exclusion of the powerless. They had circled right back to square one.
Is there no other way?
In the end, detonating the mana stones required at least two elemental mages. At this rate, no one could step forward, making escape an impossibility. Junon pressed his fingers against his temples, desperate to find an answer.
Right at that moment—
"To hell with all of this! This wasn't what they hired us to do! Who gives a damn about escort duty in a mess like this?!"
Their time, it seemed, had finally run out.
"Even with those of us who can actually use magic banding together, we've hammered at that rock over and over, and there isn't even a scratch!"
"Please, calm down. We're working on a solution—"
"What solution?! What the hell are you doing over there? Just calculating the guild's profit and loss in your greedy heads, aren't you?!"
This is bad.
Junon had known their grace period was short, but this was far too soon. There had to be a reason they had realized all their desperate blasting was futile.
"Night is falling, it's freezing cold, and you bastards are just hogging the fire! How do you expect anyone to survive for hours on that miserable little strip of jerky you handed out?!"
"He's right! Damn right!"
"We're human beings! We're freezing and starving! While we were sweating blood trying to clear that path, what were you doing?!"
Hunger and thirst drove men mad. A single sliver of dried meat and a flask of water could never keep them placated. Unlike trained soldiers, they had never learned how to ration their food or sip water to stave off dehydration. Where would they find the discipline to suppress primal, gnawing appetite?
Most of those hired for escort duty were commoners struggling to pay tuition. Among them, they were the ones with weak firepower or dropouts who had abandoned the study of magic just to scrape together a living—the "relative weaklings" of society.
Could people who had spent their entire lives as underdogs maintain their reason in the face of impending death? Not a chance. Their fragile sanity, stretched thin as a frayed thread, instantly succumbed to a single instigator's agitation.
"If you're human before you're merchants, you should value lives over coin! Even in this mess, all you care about is money?!"
"Yeah... Why should we suffer like this?"
"We're the ones with power! Why should we take orders from them?!"
"I saw plenty of wagons packed with food earlier. If they won't hand it over willingly, then..."
One by one, the men who had been trying to blast the path began turning their backs on the blockage, casting venomous glares at the powerless porters. The escort team was on the verge of fracturing into a band of looters.
Knowing there wasn't a second to lose, Junon stepped forward before they could turn their violent impulses into action. He planted himself directly in front of the brewing mob.
"I suggest you stop right there."
"Who the hell are you? A damn porter? Get lost!"
The instigator thrust his hand forward, but Junon cut off his magic before it could take shape. The feeble burst of lightning discharged into nothingness, producing only a brief, pathetic flash of light.
"What in the...?"
An example had to be set. He couldn't afford to show even an ounce of weakness; fail to strike them down decisively, and the rest would swarm like vultures.
"What... is this? What just—"
"Quiet."
"Guh...! Wh-What is—?!"
The man desperately tried to trace his rudimentary lightning circle again, but his body collapsed like a sack of stones. Before everyone's eyes lay the instigator, unconscious without ever understanding what had hit him, and Porter #229 standing over him after subduing him with effortless ease.
Unable to comprehend what had just transpired, the crowd froze dead in their tracks. Then, the warning fell.
"Take one more step, and I'll consider it a challenge."