Stormy Pursuit in Dplrus Canyon
......Honestly, if this were an anime or a manga—or hell, even a game... maybe an open-world one would be different? They wouldn't make it rain like this right out in the open, turning everything into a total mess. Has the sky really abandoned me? Is it because I dared refuse the Constellation Ticket that the constellations pettily cursed me?
Lately, I'd been scared to even tear those tickets. It wasn't just the constellations' bizarre tastes; it was the overwhelming malice that seemed dead set on killing me. I just wanted Rank-Up Tickets at this point. Do I have to catch an Evil God to get a Reroll Ticket? Staring into the blinding downpour that made it impossible to see even a step ahead, I sank into all sorts of worries.
To be frank, I didn't want to take a single step forward.
"Nah, let's go check it out, then soak in the hot springs and roll around in bed together."
"You mean crash hard, right?"
"...."
"You mean get comfy in bed and sleep, yeah?"
Po'runga said nothing, but her tail wrapped around my wrist and dragged me out.
The rain poured down in sheets. Nothing was visible... Wouldn't this wash away any tracks? Sure enough, I heard adventurers cursing and grumbling in frustration. Even so, they were all pros—nobody waited for the rain to stop; they kept up the serious search.
Po'runga scaled the rocky cliffs without climbing gear, jamming her claws into the stone like it was nothing, crawling along the sheer face with expert ease. And there I was, her tail coiled around my waist like a backpack, getting hauled along on her back. Worried I might get motion sick, she twisted her tail just so whenever she flipped her body, keeping my head oriented toward the sky. Her consideration was genuinely sweet, and I appreciated it, but dangling in pitch darkness with nothing under my feet? No way I could relax.
I flailed my legs, drenched in the relentless downpour, swimming through the night air as if gravity didn't exist.
"Can't find a damn thing."
She yanked me into a tight hug, shivering as she complained about losing body heat. She hated rainy days like this, she said, clinging to me like glue. I held her close and trudged along the cliff path. One hand on the rock face, the other gripping the safety rope installed to prevent falls.
At first, it seemed like she was pushing herself to show off, but soon she was squeezing so hard she was cutting off my air. I had a feeling the search would drag on because of it. At least she was lighter than Larirure Larirarion, so I could carry her dangling without needing my arms.
"Hah, how the hell are we supposed to find some suspicious guy?"
Even on a clear day with perfect visibility, it'd be tough. With the rain blocking my view, I had no clue what was right in front of me. I figured we'd chalk it up as a bust for today and head back... but Po'runga had wrapped her tail around me and descended the wall.
Which is easier—going straight down vertically or climbing a mountain? No need to explain; it'd just hurt my jaw.
As the temperature dropped, I led the dazed Po'runga into a cave to escape the rain. A flicker of worry about wyvern nests crossed my mind as I built a fire to warm up. She felt like a block of ice strapped to me. Once the flames brought some heat, she finally peeled off me, staggering like a bear rousing from hibernation. She pulled a bottle of vodka from her belt, chugged it, and belched fire.
Staring blankly at the roaring blaze, she mumbled about wanting a hot spring. She curled up, clinging to the fire like a moth to a flame, on the verge of diving in.
"How long will this take?"
"Nah... it's C-grade at best. Hell, even C-grade adventurers rake in cash—why bother coming here unless it's with a mentor, to hook up in a mixed bath, or for old times' sake?"
In other words, the adventurers here were probably F- to C-grade, so finding anything in this torrent would take ages. Plus, none had [skills] for tracking or scouting. Even scent-sensitive races couldn't sniff anything out—the rain had washed it all away. The only ones who could find someone in this were people with insanely sharp ears.
Sway~ Her tail flicked lazily. I watched it with drooping eyes until fatigue pulled my lids shut.
One blink turned into a nod, my vision going black as deep, dreamless sleep claimed my consciousness. Guess I'll crash here till morning...
Then... voices.
Whispers. Was exhaustion making me sensitive? Frowning, I sat up and strained to listen.
"F...ound..."
"S...aw... that way..."
"Human?"
"....."
Po'runga eyed me worriedly as I bolted upright, staring blankly at the sky like I was possessed. I focused harder on the voices. They echoed from the entire forest outside the cave—from every direction, chattering at me like they were talking right to me.
And soon, I realized: the whole forest—the every natural element making it up—was speaking to me.
The wind brushing my ears whispered that it was just a little further. Flowers blooming between rocks testified they'd seen it, even in the rain. The forest's collective emotion and will guided me. It was entirely under my command. Plants didn't have hierarchies... but this meant no one in the woods could escape me.
If the forest itself was telling me, hiding in it was pointless.
I stepped out, following the voices, with Po'runga trailing me. Then, massive rock walls blocked our path, halting our steps.
"Nothing here's—why'd you come way out here?"
It looked like a perfectly ordinary rock face. Even touching it felt real. Maybe it needed a password? I listened again, but the nearby plants said nothing. They'd been so noisy before—why now?
I approached a flower by the wall to ask... but got no reply. Sensing something ominous, I pulled out my Memorize Spell Book.
It was there, but I'd never had a chance to use it.
[Page 30, Set]
My book glowed from my belt. A pure white magic circle formed at my fingertip.
[Shattered Illusion]
This was the skill from the constellation that once tried to blow me up in a suicide attack. Damage triggers self-destruct? Pure malice. Lucky I had something similar already, or it'd have been a close call.
As my spell activated, the rock wall shimmered and shattered. A massive cave revealed itself. Inside the wall was machinery—that had created the illusion. I hadn't expected touch-realistic hallucinations. Is that how illusions worked? Clear Mind only blocked stuff aimed at me, apparently.
"What the hell is this?"
All sorts of devices lined the cave entrance. Po'runga poked around, but without dwarf or engineer know-how, it was hopeless. I ripped out the illusion generator by hand and stuffed it in my bag. What were they hiding to go this far? Seeing the stockpiled supplies, Po'runga and I sighed.
Sensing presences deeper in, we hid. Po'runga blended seamlessly with the surroundings, turning transparent. She had a skill like that? Vines and leaves from the cave entrance wrapped around me, creating natural camouflage. They moved at my will. Was this a perk of Forest at LV. MAX?
I couldn't see her face, but Po'runga's shocked voice echoed from thin air: "How'd you do that?"
Her scales turning her invisible too? Probably.
"Intruders?"
Two figures in head-to-toe black approached the entrance. One joked about lightning strikes, but seeing the ripped-out parts, they drew weapons. Guns! Folding submachine guns, from the look. They scanned all four directions.
They tracked us by the dirt and water trails on the floor. Damn—I'd hidden, but not that.
Spotting the suspicious vines, they aimed. Should I bolt? Before I could, the pair floated up, necks snapping at 90 degrees with sickening cracks, bodies thudding down. An invisible hand stripped their masks, revealing rat and dog ears. She peeled off their bulletproof vests, inspecting, then growled: "Why the fuck are these bastards here?"
"Empire mercenaries, looks like."
"Empire?"
"Red commie types outside Trust Union."
Elf Nazis and now commie Empire? Come to think of it, I always said I'd study history but just chased girls... Was I living too idly?
She summarized: no time, but Empire's full of guys like this—mercs in these outfits. No way they crossed borders near Trust forests with this gear and supplies.
I grabbed the folding SMG and vest. Three spare mags too. She blinked at my smooth reload.
"...Human, where'd you learn guns?"
"Trade secret."
Can't say TV and games. Hero remnant? Hyacinth carried a pistol-sword anyway—firearms weren't weird.
Po'runga grumbled it was inefficient crap, barely useful even against mana-less sub-C-grades. Outdated junk—faster to punch or reflect projectiles back at the shooter.
...Harsh review.
We crept deeper. Empire mercs bustled, hauling crates. Building a forward base? A portal from before was now a full warp gate inside.
"These guys the culprits? Empire's the mastermind?"
"Nah, it's complicated."
Even Empire lacked cutting-edge gate tech, she said, shaking her head. Trust Union stuff. She muttered she couldn't guess rashly.
"Pull out, report to the guild, grab adventurers, capture 'em for intel," Po'runga suggested.
Then she punched past me—over my shoulder. A sneaking merc's head caved, blood spraying as he crumpled. His dying scream drew eyes. Guns blazed our way.
"We're made!"
"What're the entrance guards doing?!"
Po'runga charged like a tank, head shielded, shattering their formation amid the hail of bullets. Should I help? Pondering carefully, I raised my gun.
Recalling her tale of black mages buying criminals classed as [Monsters], I grumbled inwardly about asking how they treat foreigners. Shot a merc's legs and gut as he aimed. Kicked his gun away; as he stirred, another spotted me.
"A human!"
"Human? Ha, for real. Thought it was bullshit, but there he is!"
They lit up seeing me. One even compared me to a paper—bounty poster? Grab me, sell me, live easy forever. First real malice since isekai. My face twisted as I glared.
"Empire deals in slaves too?"
"Pretty face like that? Queen might spread her legs. Keep your limbs intact and come quietly."
"Your parents teach you to talk like that?"
To their filthy words, I answered with silent lead. Grabbed my hand? He 'huh'd' before bullets pierced gut and thigh. Rifle-butted his chest to prop him up, shouldered him as shots hammered his back. Cold eyes scanning. They fired without caring for allies.
Study Empire later.
Incoming rounds bounced off my [Metal Skin]. Dodging only headshots, I strolled through the storm like rain, neutralizing mercs till inside. Eyes shifted to their crates.
What'd they bring—? Dread hit.
A cage rattled violently. The jostle parted the cover: savage beast eyes met mine.
The Empire mercs' cargo? Monsters.