Chapter 73
Chapter 73
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: Elixir Refinement
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During the period when the Providence royal family was established and countless nobles were purged.
The kingdom's heroes were mostly purged as well.
However, unlike the lords, not all the heroes' whereabouts were tracked down, allowing some to evade the purge's blade and go into hiding.
A few survivors fled the Providence Kingdom and sought refuge in other kingdoms.
In nations where imperial culture lingered, where they could hunt Aains.
But not every hero from the Essiric Kingdom was welcomed as a hero elsewhere.
Humans are creatures incapable of relinquishing their comforts.
The heroes were no different.
If they weren't accepted as heroes, they refused exile and chose to remain in the kingdom.
"How much do you think this time?"
"Haven't checked."
"Check now. We need to make contact soon."
A life of hunting filthy Aains in the shadows, partially basking in glory to satisfy filthy demands.
"Two long-ears, three shorties. How many beasts?"
"Five. Most common ones."
"Orchard, mines, labor camps—one batch each?"
"Let's calculate... 25 guilders."
"That's iffy."
The five men and women gathered underground groaned.
They called themselves heroes resisting the wicked Providence Demon King to the bitter end.
To the Providence royals, they were mere traitors.
But great heroes required substantial funds to live.
Bodies accustomed to fine inns couldn't sleep in stables,
And tongues pampered by lords' delicacies found common fare repulsive.
Thus, 25 guilders felt a tad short for them.
"Not iffy—insufficient. Forgotten our goal?"
"You're right. Way short for a pill furnace."
Recalling their purpose darkened the heroes' faces further.
In that mood, one hero clapped to rally spirits.
"I'll try bidding higher."
The man spoke—one of the five, marked by his monocle and elongated jaw.
The other heroes pinned their hopes on his negotiation skills.
"Then let's go."
When they emerged from underground, pitch-black darkness enveloped the outside.
"Capital's tough with those magic stone lamps."
The pink-haired female hero muttered as she gripped the reins.
The others loaded the human-filled cages into the cart and climbed aboard.
"Gatehouse?"
"The dark-skinned guy's handling the south gate."
She spurred the horses, and the cart headed for the south gate.
Upon arrival, a bald, black-skinned man with a prominent forehead scar greeted them.
"Guards?"
The bald man silently pointed to the gatehouse.
The sentries gaped at the empty air.
He shook his pouch, releasing a pungent herbal scent.
The heroes gave the black bald man thumbs-up.
Soon, they passed the gate successfully and exited the territory.
The cart rolled smoothly along the paved road.
Only after leaving the territory did one speak up.
"Rendezvous point?"
"Boat at the river..."
That was when it happened.
"Gulden."
"Guilders? Why gold all of a sudden..."
Boom!
With the word "gulden," a flash erupted before their eyes.
The sudden blaze whitened their vision.
Immediately after, the female hero gripping the reins felt the cart lighten.
"They took the cargo!"
At her shout, the heroes drew weapons and hurriedly cleared their sight.
Regaining vision, they spotted the thief who'd snatched the cages from where the cart had passed, far off.
A crimson-haired elf noblewoman with distinctive roll-like curls.
"Come out carefully."
"Thank you. Thank you, milady."
As the girl helped the people, the heroes halted the cart and glared at her.
"Actually, perfect. Lilibel house's lady, right? Selling her covers the pill furnace."
The six heroes drew their weapons.
Twin blades, axe, staff, bow, spear, shield and flail.
Opulent arms adorned with precious metals aimed at the noblewoman.
As she took in each weapon, her expression twisted.
"Never really thought about it before, but how much blood do you have to suck for decorations like that...?"
She belatedly corrected her speech, but the heroes and rescued captives heard clearly.
'Ah, it's her shtick.'
The crowd's gaze shifted from haughty wench to at least dutiful noble lady.
Noticing, she flushed and yelled.
"N... not like I care about plebs' purse strings anyway!"
Yes. Of course.
Lukewarm stares turned her way.
"I'll handle her."
Shattering the awkward air, the twin-blade hero charged the noblewoman.
She didn't dodge—instead, she blocked him as if shielding the citizens.
"A mere 3rd-circle upstart dares...!"
His blade targeted her wrist to preserve value.
Then, a vast parasol unfurled before him, deflecting the edge.
"Guh!"
The hero toppled backward, cloth smacking his face squarely.
Feeling cold ground on his skull, he eyed his foe.
'Para... sol?'
The noblewoman wielded a parasol.
Hardened like iron with mana.
'????"
The unheard-of self-defense tool flustered the hero.
Reading his face, she flashed a playful grin.
Her reason for choosing the parasol? Simple—it looked fun.
With Dominic as main force, she could goof off, or so her childish whim went.
Other knights would've scolded her mid-mission.
Quoting proverbs like "A lion hunts rabbits with full effort."
But she rejected that wisdom.
—"Lions rarely go all-out against rabbits anyway."
Her spiritual pillar, the nameless swordsman, was utterly rational.
If no need for full power—and results matched half-effort—
Why waste strength? he'd argue.
Steeped in that philosophy, she'd picked the parasol this fight.
And Dominic (Duke) permitted it.
—"Knew you'd allow it!"
She'd recalled her swordswoman days, but truth was conscience.
She slacked first—couldn't chide her.
Thus, the Lilibel lady's self-defense became parasol.
Against heroes, she deemed it fitting.
To foes facing it? Utter humiliation.
"Don't strut over one lucky tumble. I'll shred that rag and your gaudy dress like cloth."
"Hawawa~ How scary."
She snapped the parasol shut and swung like a club.
Crack!
"Ngh?!"
An impact unbelievable for 3rd-circle.
Horror-struck, the hero re-scanned her circle.
Only during strikes did it waver—realizing the deception.
"Coward!"
"Call it wisdom...!"
Crack!
Barely parrying, the twin-blade hero yelled to comrades.
"One more!"
"Covering!"
The bow hero nocked an arrow.
The lady eyed him, then,
"Two against a fragile girl? Too scary!"
Her grating tone rattled the bowman's calm.
The arrow veered toward citizens behind her.
"Tch!"
Fortune favored; she playfully batted it aside.
Eying the lodged arrow, she pouted sadly.
"Aww. Pricey one."
"Fight for real!"
"For real? Why bother against you lot?"
"Comfy watching those Aains behind get endangered?"
The hero taunted to shatter her poise.
The bow openly targeted citizens in response.
Her reaction? Unchanged.
"Dunno. Seems you're the endangered ones acting like that."
With that, finger to chin, she glanced at the brush.
Rustling—out stepped a white-shirted old butler, dual swords in hand.
"Even for practice, bows are too risky."
"Handle it, Dominic."
"Yes. Eliminating."
The kindly smiling elder turned to the bow hero.
His foot left ground—vanished from sight.
Spotting him tree-running late, the hero shouted,
"Dodge—"
Splat!
Before finishing, flesh rent; bow and arm severed together.
Seasoned, he tried retreating over collapsing.
But ere he backed, Dominic pinned his instep to earth with blade.
"Argh!"
Pierced foot—he fumbled for dagger in final throes,
But Dominic deftly snatched it, jamming into the bowman's throat.
Dodging arterial spray, he withdrew.
"Heh heh. Getting old. Blood on my sleeve."
Seeing the elder mutter at crimson stains, the heroes lost heart.
After dispatching the heroes, Jane gleaned info via latest search tools, Whipfetty and Bogle.
"Bagua Furnace? What's that?"
Clunk.
Dominic's shoulder twitched visibly.
He knew something, plain as day.
Jane (or Lilibel Young Lady) smirked, tugging his attire.
"You know what Bagua Furnace is."
"Don't ask. Nothing to do with me."
"Aww, c'mon~"
"Jane."
The elder fixed her with a stern gaze.
"The past?"
His gravity silenced her.
"Bury it with the past. Right. Sorry."
She asked no more on Bagua Furnace.
Pitying her, Dominic spoke softer.
"Peter knows. Report to base—ask him."
Duty as duty; defer Bagua facts to Peter.
Guessing from his back, Jane reported to HQ.
Ari and Rex, hearing the report, cocked heads and system-searched "Bagua Furnace."
No hits.
"Bagua Furnace... what is it?"
Spotting the note on Peter knowing, Rex summoned the old secretary.
"Your Majesty. At last, the second heir..."
"Not that. Hero remnants hunting Bagua Furnace—you know it?"
The elder's face hardened.
"For real?"
"See for yourself."
Confirming the firefly spirit's report, Peter sighed skyward.
"Haa..."
"That bad?"
"Why does the Empire's shadow never fully fade..."
Pressing his eyelids, Peter finally spoke.
"The Empire had mystical pill furnaces producing elixirs."
"Elixirs?"
"Unlike spirit medicines. Those brute-force realm-ups with mana, extending life. Elixirs extend life to build realms naturally."
"Aha."
"Among them, the forbidden Golden Elixir: grants endless vitality, regenerates mortal wounds at life's cost. Sole producer? The imperial treasure, Bagua Furnace."
"Heroes seek it. We grab first..."
"No. Impossible."
"Why?"
The blind elder sighed freely before his liege.
"Bagua Furnace's last owner was Duke's master. Duke stole—and smashed—it."