Chapter 70: How Would They Know?
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 70: How Would They Know?
By the time I left the Sateria Appraisal Office, it was already late at night. The sun had been setting when I first went to see Iris, after all.
As I moved away from the vicinity of the Southeast and headed deeper into the Southwest, most of the red-tinted figures radiating hostility vanished. There were still a few who looked slightly reddish, but surprisingly, they were faces I’d encountered a few times in the Southwest.
Mostly guests who had visited the inn. Did I do something wrong?
When I entered the Mounted Goat Inn, Sera and Tresha were busy in the first-floor dining area, taking orders and carrying food.
Watching this heartwarming scene made me feel even more strongly that I couldn't let any harm come to this place.
"Oh, Yoo Eon. Where have you been?"
"I had some business to take care of. Sera, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can help out with work today."
"Mmm, that’s okay. Are you going to sleep early today? What about dinner?"
"I’m fine for food. Where is your father?"
"Dad is in the bath right now..."
"Ah."
A bath scene featuring a little girl "Father"—not exactly something I was looking for. In the end, Sera went to the bathhouse to relay the message for me, and I waited in my room on the second floor.
After finishing his bath, Father came up to the second floor.
—Young man? Are you inside?
"Yes, Father."
It was the voice of a young girl who barely looked old enough to have the "blood dry on her head," a voice that didn't suit the title "Father" at all. I thought I’d gotten used to it by now, but apparently, I hadn't.
"Phew! It’s been a while since I’ve had a good soak!"
"Father, please, put some clothes on properly."
"Eh? What’s the big deal! I’m fine, so don’t worry!"
The problem was that I wasn't fine, but what could I do when an elder said so? His face was flushed from the long soak in hot water, and he was wearing nothing but a loose white T-shirt. Wait, isn't that my shirt?
"You said you were sleepy, but you're still awake?"
"I took a nap and woke up again. Marta told me to wash up before sleeping if I didn't want my head cracked open."
"Ah, I see."
As expected, Auntie’s combat power easily surpassed that of a Cobalt-grade explorer.
"So. What is it, young man? Looking at your face, something’s gone wrong, hasn't it?"
"Haha, how do you know everything?"
"I just know! You’ll understand when you get to my age!"
"Right..."
* * *
"So, he’s a guy who travels with five subordinates."
"Hmm... that is one way to interpret it."
It wasn't a six-man party, but one criminal belonging to the Antonio Brotherhood traveling with five underlings. Usually, such underlings don't even know the proper structure of the Antonio Brotherhood.
They were likely just idiots infatuated with the notorious name of the Antonio Brotherhood, or loudmouths soaked in a false sense of belonging.
Still, considering they had assigned him two casters, Father said the leader’s seniority probably wasn't that low.
"Can you figure all that out just from that?"
"Of course! It’s not hard. I know those guys well."
"You aren't... a member of the Antonio Brotherhood yourself, are you?"
"Heh, did you only just realize?"
"No. Really?"
"I’m joking. I just had a reason to look into the Antonio Brotherhood for a bit. I know a fair amount."
He was a guy with five subordinates. His rank was low, but not that low. Father mentioned that since they were human too, things would probably quiet down if I stayed low for a few months.
A better way than that, he suggested, was giving them money. Ultimately, the reason the Antonio Brotherhood was angry wasn't because people died, but because of the financial loss.
Losing six explorers capable of entering the 2nd Stratum was a painful blow, but it wasn't like they’d lost irreplaceable personnel. This incident didn't mean I had become a public enemy of the Antonio Brotherhood or ended up on a global blacklist.
The criminals I had crushed were just one squad-sized team from one of the Antonio Brotherhood’s many octopus-like decentralized cells.
Naturally, there were factions within the Antonio Brotherhood, and these tended to be more fragmented the further down the ladder you went. Since there were so many cells, it meant only a faction of about twenty to thirty people was actually targeting me.
That said, it was better not to wipe out an entire faction. That might actually make the "real" Antonio Brotherhood take notice.
"So, you're saying I should stay quiet."
"Yeah. And try to stay out of the Labyrinth if you can."
"Why shouldn't I go into the Labyrinth?"
"Didn't you say you saw them in the Labyrinth? Then they’re obviously the type to commit crimes against explorers inside. If you go in, you’re bound to run into them again. That’s what I’m saying."
"Ah, that makes sense."
Different cells didn't necessarily seek revenge for one another, but they did put out wanted posters and share information if they spotted someone. They were all part of the Antonio Brotherhood, after all.
I didn't like it, but avoiding them was the best course of action.
"...Understood."
"Right. There are plenty of explorers who clash with the Antonio guys. Those criminals don't react to every single incident. Just think of it as taking a few months off to recover and take it easy."
A few months of rest, huh?
* * *
"Old man."
"What? I thought you’d gone into the Labyrinth and kicked the bucket, but here you are, walking around just fine."
"Haha, I guess so."
"Where did you put the things I gave you?"
The next morning, I went to see the Dwarf Blacksmith for the first time in a while. One of the traits dwarves possessed was the ability to hear the "Heart of Metal," which made most of them skilled blacksmiths.
It wasn't that the swords actually spoke to them; rather, by just flicking a metal tool with a finger, they could tell what metal was used, where the flaws were, and the level of craftsmanship.
Of course, this dwarf old man, who seemed to have a few screws loose, claimed that the metals actually spoke to him.
"Those? I'm using them well."
"I’ll be the judge of that once you bring the sword here, you brat."
"That’s true, but for now, I came to buy a new weapon. Something decent."
"I don't have 'something decent.' Everything here is a masterpiece."
"Yes, yes, of course."
It wasn't that I desperately needed a weapon. While it was true I should avoid the Antonio Brotherhood, taking a break from the Labyrinth for several months felt wrong.
I didn't know how much information that criminal who survived had blabbed about me, but he might have mentioned something about my skills.
However, it was bound to be fragmentary information, and it was highly likely they hadn't accurately grasped my abilities. They probably only knew that a tail pops out or that a hard gauntlet appears over my hand.
Or they might not even know that much. When I smashed his legs, he had lost consciousness for a bit. I didn't know if he regained consciousness after the battle ended or if he woke up while I was fighting the others and saw me in action.
I couldn't afford to skip the Labyrinth for months. It wasn't like I had anything else to do in the meantime, and with Tresha at the inn, they weren't short on hands. I figured it would be fine if I entered the Labyrinth with my face hidden.
"Give me a decent mace. Can I get a helmet right now too?"
"A mace? Why all of a sudden? Did you see something weird again?"
"No, nothing like that. I just want to try swinging one. Just give me whatever you have lying around."
"Hmm."
In the end, the method I chose was changing my equipment. If I hid my face and carried a common weapon, would they even recognize me? If I wore the gambeson I hadn't used lately and covered my face with a helmet, there shouldn't be any problem.
'No one around here is glowing red.'
The Southwest was certainly peaceful. No one seemed to harbor any hostility. Still, you never knew; there could be people who would sell my information just for money, even without any personal grudge.
"How about this? Everyone who’s new to blunt weapons starts with this."
"Ah, not that. Give me something that looks a bit more professional."
It wasn't good to look like a novice with a weapon.
"What? You brat, are you all about appearances now?"
"It’s not like that."
"Tsk, fine."
I ended up buying a decent one-handed mace from the dwarf and hung it at my waist. As for a shield, I had a round shield that was inside the storage artifact I’d received from Rubica. I figured I could use that.
There are probably about eight billion people in Calax wearing metal helmets, gambesons, and carrying maces and shields. It was the most generic equipment possible.
"Here. Try this on."
"Old man, don't you have anything that covers the whole face?"
"You brat, if you wear something like that, you’ll collapse before you even get into a proper fight."
A helmet isn't a piece of equipment that’s purely beneficial without any drawbacks.
If you’ve been to the military, you’ve worn a combat helmet. A modern Korean military helmet is exactly eight times more comfortable than a helmet in this world. To put it another way, the helmets here are eight times more miserable.
You’ll understand if you consider that modern helmets have suspension systems—elastic or padded cushions inside—so your head doesn't hurt. They sit slightly off the scalp to allow sweat to escape, and they’re soft. I almost missed my old military helmet.
Above all, metal helmets in this world are much more expensive than you’d think. One must not forget that a metal helmet is part of a set of full plate armor.
If it isn't custom-fitted to your head size and you just shove your face into a large helmet, the sound of metal clashing will torment your ears with every step.
Your ears are blocked all day, making it hard to hear, and even a small impact creates a deafening, ringing noise. They’re incredibly heavy—twice the weight of a modern ballistic helmet—and if you wear one without proper cushioning, the weight will crush your scalp all day, leading to sores and oozing wounds.
It’s hard for explorers without money to buy a metal helmet that fits their head perfectly.
There’s a padded cap called an arming cap, but the only difference between it and a bunch of bunched-up rags is that it doesn't shift around inside the helmet when you run. All the other downsides are the same. Still, I had no choice since I needed it.
If you apply oil inside to prevent corrosion, that dizzying smell of oil mixes with the smell of sweat, creating an environment reminiscent of a chemical warfare drill.
"It’s because I need to hide my face."
"Yeah, you definitely need to hide that face of yours."
"What’s that supposed to mean...?"
If I measured my head circumference and made the helmet slightly larger, it would fit perfectly when worn with an arming cap. Since the old man said it would take a few days to shape the helmet, I’d have to stay put until then.
I bought a generic arming cap, fitted it to my head, and returned to the inn. It cost a whopping 3 gold to have a metal helmet custom-made for my head; there was no way I could have bought one in the beginning.
Honestly, a helmet wasn't even that necessary for dealing with Direwolves. Unless they climbed onto my back or I tripped and fell.
Wolves have a low shoulder height, so there’s almost no risk to the head.
In two days, I’ll check out Theodora’s workshop, put on the helmet, and grab the mace and shield. Then I can head to the Labyrinth.
"I mean, if I hide my face, how would they possibly know?"