Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Shadows in the Mine
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Kwooooh…!
“B-Boss! Let’s run!”
“You mad bastard! Where to in this weather!”
Balmong bellowed at his men urging him to flee.
The night of pouring rain was equally merciless to everyone.
Moreover, in mountainous terrain, going down was far more dangerous than climbing up.
One slip of the foot, and you’d tumble down, breaking bones in a couple of places as a matter of course.
And suffering such an injury on a rain-soaked mountain meant certain death.
Kroooar! Kyaak!
Another roar and scream echoed in succession.
“Eek!”
“G-God! I repent all my sins so far. I’ll pray every day and donate plenty from now on. Have mercy!”
Bandits in full panic even spouted ridiculous confessions.
The ceaseless roars and screams from outside were that terrifying.
“F-Fuck.”
“What the hell is it? N-No way an ogre?”
“You idiot. Don’t jinx it. There are no ogres in these mountains.”
The bandits, called the hunting dogs, were utterly cowed.
They committed murder as casually as eating, but such men treasured their own lives above all.
Especially when the intruder was an unidentified monster—it was enough to terrify even these criminals hardened by all manner of crimes.
“Get a grip, you bastards! It’s just a monster at the end of the day!”
Balmong, gripping his battle axe—the weapon that had slain two knights—with both hands, roared at the top of his lungs.
His shout, as the strongest among them and the only one clad in chain mail, finally snapped the bandits back to their senses.
They were right inside the mine entrance.
Most mines were designed with narrow entrances to fend off beasts or monsters.
Large creatures had trouble entering, and even if they did, their movements were restricted.
“Whatever monster it is, it can’t rampage freely in this tight space! Form up! Lot! Painel! Shields up front!”
“Yes, sir!”
Bandits wielding large wooden shields took the vanguard, followed by a cluster of spear-wielders.
Adopting the basic formation for taking down beasts or mid-tier monsters restored some of their courage.
Humans always felt more secure and gained strength when banded together.
Thud!
“...!”
The thick wooden door, secured as solidly as a dungeon gate, rattled.
The bandits held their breath, glaring at it. Only the drip of water from the ceiling broke the tense silence enveloping the mine entrance.
“I-Is it gone?”
“Thank god…”
Boom!
In that instant, a thunderous crash shattered the wooden door to splinters.
Whoosh!
Amid the deafening rain, someone stepped through the wreckage.
“...!”
A ‘person’ with glowing red eyes.
The bandits’ eyes bulged at the sight of a knight fully armored.
“All you rats holed up here.”
Before they could process the relief of facing a human instead of a monster, the knight advanced slowly, short sword in one hand and rondel dagger in the other.
“Kill him!”
The moment they realized the intruder was human—a knight—Balmong regained his confidence and shouted.
There was a world of difference between facing an unknown foe and a known one. And they had been bracing for a massive monster.
Now a lone human charging in with just blades? Knight or not, their courage surged.
But a moment’s thought would have revealed how off it all was.
They had mistaken the intruder for a monster and retreated into the mine precisely because no one could scale these treacherous mountains in such weather.
Yet here was the knight who had done exactly that.
Judging by appearances alone was a mistake.
“Uwaaaah!”
Bandits slipped between the shields and charged at Eugene.
The reassurance of facing a fellow human—alone—spurred them to reckless assault on the plate-armored knight.
And the price of that folly was gruesome.
“...!”
The bandits charging with gusto froze. Torches hanging on the walls began extinguishing one by one, starting from the direction the knight approached.
As if by magic, the light vanished sequentially, ominous darkness creeping inward bit by bit.
“W-What!?”
Balmong’s startled shout was followed by the last torch snuffed out.
“Someone light a fire!”
“Fuck! I can’t see shit!”
Having relied solely on the wall torches without bringing extras, the bandits screamed.
Someone frantically struck flint, but only futile clicks sounded—no spark ignited. Soaked through by the rain, it was hopeless.
Grrr…
An inhuman growl froze the bandits in place.
Then, in the suffocating darkness, a pair of small, bright red embers floated up. In the blink of an eye, they hurtled toward the bandits.
“Eek!”
Crack! Crunch! Cr-runch!
“Aaak!”
“Kek!”
“Grrr!”
Hideous sounds that made one’s hair stand on end, mingled with screams, rang without cease.
“Uwaa! Uwaaa!”
As the noises grew louder and closer, terror-stricken bandits wildly swung their weapons.
Struck by friendly blows, others squealed like scorched boars and stabbed spears and swords toward the attack’s origin.
“Uwaaaak!”
“Hyaak!”
“Stop! Me… Guk!”
In the pitch black, they hacked and stabbed at each other in chaos.
The mine entrance, overlaid with bandits’ shouts, screams, and inhuman roars, resembled a hellish abyss.
“Hyaak! Hyaak!”
Balmong, finally adjusting to the dark, swung his battle axe at a black silhouette lunging at him.
Splat!
A meaty burst accompanied the shadow’s slump.
“Huk! Huk!”
Panting raggedly, he backed away, glaring ahead.
No one seemed to be moving—perhaps his men had already slain the intruder.
“Huu, fuck! Screw the boss and all, we head down at dawn…”
“Boss?”
A low voice from behind.
“...!”
True to his seasoned bandit leader instincts, Balmong whirled despite his shock, diagonally slashing upward with his battle axe.
Clang!
A jolt shot through his neck, and Balmong blacked out, dropping his axe and collapsing in a heap.
“Spare this one?”
Mirian, who had extinguished all the torches, flitted over to ask. Eugene slung the limp Balmong over his shoulder.
‘Boss? There’s more to this.’
A silver mine with multiple ownership changes wouldn’t fall so easily.
* * *
“...”
“...”
The two women sat facing each other in awkward silence for a while.
They knew of each other and had crossed paths a few times, but being alone together like this was a first.
“So… why did the mage bring the goods?”
Prechella broke the ice.
“Sir Eugene told me to.”
“That’s why I’m asking what for.”
“Because you might acquire the silver mine.”
“W-What? The silver mine?”
Romari nodded to the startled Prechella, her under-eye shadows darker than usual.
“Yes. It’s a long, complicated story, but I think Sir Eugene will almost certainly become the owner. Anyway, he told me to come ahead and wrap that up.”
“Wait, what does that even…”
They had sent her for ruins subjugation, only for the knight to stay behind and dispatch just the mage? And now silver mine out of nowhere?
But Prechella was deputy manager of the Feilin Merchant Group’s head branch. She sniffed the money and probed cautiously.
“Um, sorry, but could you explain in more detail?”
“Well, it’s like this.”
Romari, barely recovered from seasickness, summarized the Kalsbargin Peninsula events as concisely as possible, eager for rest.
A moment later.
‘Insane! Sir Eugene is crazy!’
Prechella gaped after hearing it all.
“S-So Sir Eugene might become a lord on the Kalsbargin Peninsula?”
“Not might—he’s already set. The baron owning Philia Ruins certified it, and the other nobles will sign the joint pledge too.”
“Oh…”
Prechella shrugged involuntarily. She had expected Eugene to rise, but not this fast.
‘No! Then the next subjugation could be the last?’
A knight turned lord wouldn’t lead demon realm expeditions personally. Owning a silver mine solved the money issues—what need for such hassle?
‘This is trouble.’
She had profited from Eugene, but barely broken even on investments. She couldn’t just celebrate.
As she stewed in worry and confusion, Romari spoke in a weary voice.
“Could you check the goods first? I have things to do.”
“Ah. Y-Yes. Of course, you must be busy.”
“Yeah. And this.”
Romari pulled a large, heavy leather pouch from her robe.
“Mana stones we collected.”
“Quite a haul.”
“Over two hundred. Some mid-grade, some high-grade.”
“Right. Mid and high… Wait!? High-grade? You mean…?”
“Yes. We took down a wyvern.”
“Gasp!”
Prechella recoiled more than at the lord news. Romari tilted her head.
“Is that such a shock? We went there to hunt one.”
“Oh? R-Right, yeah. Haha, ahaha…”
Prechella sat back with an awkward laugh, but her heart pounded wildly.
‘Wyvern! A wyvern!’
High-grade mana stones were great, but byproducts were key.
Other high-tier monster parts fetched fortunes, but wyvern ones were priceless.
None had ever been slain in demon realms before—rarity unknown, but ‘first’ mattered.
‘Auction! Auction it off for a killing!’
Word spreads, rich folk and nobles flock. Feilin Merchant Group’s rep skyrockets.
‘Best decision of my life: latching onto Sir Eugene.’
Prechella’s glee halted abruptly.
‘Only one subjugation left, and… What to do? Tell her now?’
If Eugene were here, she’d inform him. But it was Romari.
Rare mage and Eugene’s right hand(?), yet Prechella hesitated.
Intuition said he’d fly off forever if he knew.
‘No choice. If he gets a fief on Kalsbargin, he’ll trade with Mopern for sure. Push a branch there.’
“Can I go now? I’m really swamped.”
Romari rose, suppressing her churning gut.
As Feilin’s heir—not his first merchant—Prechella swallowed tears and decided.
“Mage, wait.”
“Yes?”
“This came for Sir Eugene.”
Prechella unlocked a desk safe and handed something to Romari.
“W-What’s this?”
Gilt-edged fine paper sealed with an imposing lion stamp unnerved Romari.
Mage’s intuition? Bad vibes.
“A letter from Earl Winslon. The deliverer was disappointed you weren’t there. Best pass it to him ASAP.”
“So… give this to Sir Eugene now?”
“Yes.”
“Right now? Another ship ride?”
“As soon as possible—ideally yesterday. I can prep a ship immediately.”
“No need to rush that much. A few days’ rest first…”
“I’ve delivered it to you, so fine by me, but knowing Sir Eugene’s temperament…”
“He loves ships now. Cabin’s like my room. I’ll zip there, just say I needed rest. Urp!”
Romari dry-heaved at the thought.
“Huh? Sure.”
“Seriously. A mage’s grudge lasts long. Urp!”
“I-I’ll keep it secret!”
“I’ll hold you to that, Deputy—or sis. Heave! Hep!”
“Y-Yes.”
Prechella watched curiously as Romari clamped her mouth and stomped out.
Door shut; Prechella frowned slightly.
“She acts younger. What’d she eat as a kid to age like that? Sick raccoon look. Actually sick?”
Never dreaming a mage suffered seasickness.
(To be continued in the next installment)