Chapter 43
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: Dungeon
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At least a platoon-sized group of skeletons dragged their rusted, worn-out weapons toward us. There was no way to know what principle made them move, and unlike their horrifying appearance, they didn't seem to carry anything of value.
You couldn't even jokingly call those half-rotted, rust-eaten broken weapons ancient relics. In the end, they were just bones clutching sticks that barely qualified as weapons, rampaging around. Thinking of it that way made the fear of these undead, who were like an enigma, fade away.
Combat power comes from muscles, bones, mental fortitude, and good equipment. The [Skeletons], lacking even one of those, were nothing more than lab skeleton models come to life—utter trash mobs.
Suddenly, the army of skeletons in front of me started looking like a gang of sickly beggars.
Seeing their pathetic state stirred up the [Contempt for the Weak] dormant inside me.
"Shall we charge in?"
Meria, lowering her stance fully, said. It was phrased as a question, but she wasn't really seeking agreement. Impact is proportional to mass and speed. She kicked off the ground, shield held out front.
Thud thud thud thud!
Her fierce charge was like that of a rampaging wild boar. Soon, she crashed right into the cluster of skeletons gathered in the center.
Boom!
"Yeah!"
With a refreshing shout, bones flew everywhere.
The skeletons toppled like bowling pins. A human skeleton weighs only about 20% of body weight, and these ancient bones probably weighed even less. There was no way to block Meria's shield charge crash.
Clack.
Clack clack clack.
Four against dozens. The numbers were overwhelmingly against us. But our individual combat prowess was on a whole different level, enough to smash every enemy despite the disadvantage. I charged forward with a mighty yell.
"Waaaaah!"
Swinging rather than thrusting. A sword is basically a solid piece of metal, so it hurts like hell when it hits. Just as Karin taught me, I swung with proper form and balance, putting maximum power into it as I bashed them.
"Sands!! Why the hell are you here!!"
Crack!
Snap!
I brought down a cleaving strike.
They shattered bone and all, splintering into fragments as they collapsed.
These bastards were beyond imagination—complete pushovers. These pathetic ten trash mobs dared to challenge me? Right now?
Even in close combat right in front of them, the skeletons were so slow it made my chest tighten with frustration.
These idiots took what a human could do in one second—moving, raising an arm, swinging a rusted, broken sword—and dragged it out to a full ten seconds.
Even those sluggish attacks from ages past couldn't touch me, and the impact was negligible anyway. My exceptional breastplate and expensive quilted armor shrugged off such pathetic strikes with defense alone. As long as I didn't take it to the head, I was fine.
"These really hit the 'bone'!"
I said that while smashing one skeleton's skull.
They were literally just skeletons. Like how the dead can't interfere with the living, they were merely bones that should stay dead.
I personally sent them back where they belonged.
"Now that's more like it. Ten of these boneheads are less trouble than one zombie."
Kobson, worried about dulling his blade, sheathed his sword and started dealing damage with clumsy kicks and punches.
No matter how sloppy, the skeletons crumpled at a single kick from Kobson, spines snapping, or ribs flying off from a punch (if you could call it dying).
"I could fight these guys for the rest of my life."
A skeleton's skull shattered against Meria's powerfully swung shield, its body slamming into the wall. She crushed them with her shield like it was born for violence—a true testament to her trained shield techniques. Her shield wasn't armor; it was a murderous weapon.
And Elise? No need to mention her. She was the most excited of all. She embodied the concept of utterly wrecking something.
Just like that, we demolished an entire platoon of skeletons. Dust filled the air heavily. The white powder choking the fourth basement level was probably from other adventurers desecrating the dead in similar fashion.
"Now they will go to the place they were meant to be."
"That's a relief."
Elise wiped the sweat from her forehead brightly and said that. You'd never guess it was the face of someone who'd committed atrocities surpassing the Panmunjom axe murder incident—right here in this dungeon purge. Her expression looked utterly refreshed.
I couldn't comprehend it at all. She seemed to genuinely believe she'd done something truly good. It was utterly baffling. To me, Elise's destructive spree was more shocking than reverent.
Still, since it relieved my stress too, I was satisfied. I replied with an awkward smile.
"Are their souls saved?"
"Saved... That's a rather unfamiliar term. No matter where their souls go after death, calling it 'salvation' might be a bit of a stretch."
"Well, if they go to heaven or something, isn't that salvation?"
"Heaven isn't a concept we use much either. Pardon me, but do you follow a specific religion, Mr. Katt? Concepts like salvation and heaven aren't really part of the Radiant Cross Society's teachings."
"Huh? No, I don't really have a religion. I just heard street preachers say you can go to heaven... I don't know much myself."
For some reason, as we talked, she started explaining doctrine like an aunt I meet during holidays who's super religious. I nearly freaked out and changed the subject. I didn't know much about religion anyway, and I had no interest.
"...Even if there are heretics left in the current kingdom, it's best not to trust those promising heaven."
"Ah, yes."
The word "heretic" sent an inexplicable chill down my spine. I hoped she wouldn't smash my head for saying the wrong thing. I quickly lowered my gaze to the floor.
"Hmm, anything worth taking?"
I scanned the ground with my downcast eyes.
I kicked aside the remains without much expectation. Trying to sell these rotted blades to blacksmiths would probably earn me a fancy curse and a stab of annoyance. They might even melt my corpse down for a bell.
I rummaged hoping for a jeweled sword or something, but these seemed like common grunts—no such luck. No real money-makers after all... What a shame.
Meria must have thought the same; she squatted and poked through the remains with a thigh bone. Kid's handling human bones like twigs.
"Huh? This is..."
"Find something?"
I asked without much hope at her tone suggesting a discovery. I'd been pondering the value of that pitch-black rotted leather. Recycling rotted leather... the key to saving Earth's environment...
"It's a necklace."
"Necklace!"
I yelled out reflexively. Meria pulled out a long chain from the bone pile! The color was faded, so I couldn't tell the metal, but!
"That's it! Weapons might be gone, but accessories could survive!"
"Exactly!"
Kobson beat me to my line. Reignited with enthusiasm, we dug through the bone pile like moles. Was this our chance? Sudden riches danced in our eyes!
"Should've gone easier on them if I knew!"
"Agreed!"
"Oh, here's another. A ring maybe?"
"Not in great condition."
I'd had no fun lately, but now I was grinning ear to ear as I hunted accessories. It felt weird being happy rummaging skeletons, but anyone in this situation—even a saint—would giggle while looting skulls. Elise was doing it too.
"Found one!"
After a thorough search, we successfully looted all the accessories the skeletons had.
Precious items their long-gone families had buried with them for the afterlife now belonged to us adventurer scum grave robbers.
"Yay!"
Hell yeah, jackpot!
I nearly danced a jig but took off my cloak and spread it out for the loot.
"Alright, pile everything here."
We needed to gather and divide equally. We all contributed, so no extras for anyone. Adventurer code says the killer claims the kill, but this was different. Couldn't tell who smashed what anyway. Contributions were equal, so even split was fine.
Money matters had to be clear-cut.
Everyone laid out their finds on the cloak. Quite a haul.
"..."
Well, how to put it.
"We got excited collecting them, but seeing it all together... meh."
"Hmm, too old. Brass? Bronze? Gold wouldn't discolor like this."
"This crystal necklace is all cracked. That black one's a pearl?"
Laid out, they all looked like ancient junk.
Unable to withstand time's ravages? Battered, faded, rusted—impossible to tell the material. Only shapes remained.
That's why appraisers exist... Damn, no skill points. Bullshit. These broke-ass ancient bastards. Common sense says you'd bury family with at least a gold necklace, right? Even rudeness has limits. Crazy ancients.
"Unfortunately, no real value."
Elise shook her head. I agreed. Still, selling them outside might net a few coppers. More junk after the pewter cup and mimic teeth.
Pushing aside regrets, we pressed on.
"Skeletons don't form naturally."
"So someone made them?"
Elise said while walking. Before I could ask, Meria spoke first.
"Made skeletons? Sounds like an evil sorcerer."
"What? Evil sorcerer?"
"Necromancer. No such thing in barbarian lands? You're full of gaps."
"Our hood wouldn't tolerate that crap."
Necromancer—the undead mage who raises the dead, right?
Elise continued.