Chapter 137
Chapter 137
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 137
Chapter Title: The City Where Black Rain Falls (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Truth be told, compared to other places, things here are actually pretty decent.”
Compared to other places?
My voice carried a deeper note of worry, and I looked at the couple with a grave expression. A hint of fear showed on their faces.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Just what I said. Have you ever been to ‘Dehid’?”
Dehid was the city across the river. A fairly large one that managed the bridge connecting Lysette and the Barak Empire.
“Yes. We were actually on our way to Dehid.”
“...I figured as much, but still.”
The man winced with one eye and let out a deep sigh.
“Think it over again.”
“What in the world is going on that makes you say that?”
“I’m just a country bumpkin, so I wouldn’t know. All I can call it is ‘divine punishment.’”
‘Divine punishment’?
“I go to Dehid once a month to sell crops and buy daily necessities with the money. I was there just a week ago to sell some beans.”
The man slowly stroked his beard as if recalling the memory. I waited tensely for his next words.
“As I mentioned earlier, it’s been half a month since the rain started here. I thought it was strange. But compared to what’s happening in Dehid, this doesn’t even qualify as odd.”
“Is the city on fire? Or has war broken out?”
“That might actually be better... Once I crossed the bridge and entered Dehid, the rain got heavier. That wasn’t too unusual. The truly bizarre part was that the downpour was black, like filthy sludge. And the sky was so dark it felt like the dead of night.”
Black rain falling in Dehid?
It was something I couldn’t have imagined. ‘Black rain’?
Monsoon rains, typhoons, floods—those I could picture. But ‘black rain’? Even in this fantasy world, that was an extraordinarily strange phenomenon.
“I asked the owner of a shop I frequent, and he said the rain had been falling for a week already. Black rain, of all things. At this point, no one even knows if it’s really rain anymore. Seeing how the rain won’t stop here either, Dehid must be the same. I bet the ‘black rain’ is still pouring there.”
“...”
“I worry it might reach here someday. It’s not black rain yet, but the downpour doesn’t let up and the fog lingers... If this weather drags on, how are we supposed to make a living?”
“...If it’s that, I think I can help.”
“You?”
The man looked surprised as he asked again. Of course—he didn’t know I was a Druid yet.
“Farming isn’t done by farmers alone. It’s the sky and earth that do it. As long as we can’t control the weather...”
“Haha. Well, give it a shot—I’ll consider it a loss if it doesn’t work.”
I planned to plant purifying plants around the field to help with drainage, put rain-blocking plants in the center for the time being, and then apply the [Fertile Land] skill within a certain range. That should keep the crops alive. Of course, if it turned into uncontrollable torrents or that suspicious ‘black rain,’ it’d be a different story. Still, it’d serve as first aid.
Even if I could help this kind couple at their small farm somehow, what about Dehid? Black rain—what on earth was happening there?
I pressed the man for more details, but he shook his head, saying he’d fled Dehid in a panic after seeing the black rain and knew no more than that. To learn about the ‘black rain,’ I’d have to go there myself. Putting aside my regrets, we returned to our room to rest.
“What do you think, Lloyd?”
“...?”
“There’s some mysterious ‘black rain’ falling, so is heading to Dehid like this really the right call?”
Lloyd, who had been about to lie down on the bed, sat up properly and answered with a serious face.
“Simply put, it’d be foolish.”
“And if we think about it more deeply?”
“There might be ‘something’ you’re looking for there.”
He had a point.
Weather magic was something even most mages wouldn’t attempt. The area was too vast, and there were too many variables to control. One reason dragons were considered ‘great’ was their ability to manipulate weather at will. Weather-related magic was that powerful—and that tricky.
If this ‘black rain’ was artificially created...
Dehid was clearly under some massive spell or curse right now. Multiple mages, or shamans, or both, or perhaps an advanced monster skilled in magic—or, if luck was truly against us, a ‘demon’...
According to the couple, the black rain had been falling in Dehid for half a month. Maintaining such an illogical spell or curse for that long meant the caster was powerful enough to defy natural laws.
‘I can’t rule out involvement from the Crows or a fragment of EArte.’
Tap, drip. Raindrops still pattered against the window, making small noises. What to do. I stared at the trickling drops, lost in thought.
“...It’ll be dangerous, right?”
Lloyd let out a smirk, as if asking why I’d state the obvious.
“But if we ignore this and move on, I have a feeling we’ll regret it big time.”
Lloyd, who had been listening quietly, slowly nodded.
“Of course, we’ll need to prepare thoroughly for the ‘black rain’ before entering. Who knows—maybe Khalid will cough up some ‘good stuff.’”
“If we’re lucky.”
“As you know, luck always follows me.”
It wasn’t a joke. I really did have the [Lucky One] trait. But Lloyd, unaware of that, gave a similar smile as before and lay down on the bed. I blew out the candle by my bedside and slipped under the covers. Soon, I felt Legion, who had been exploring the room, climb onto my stomach, purring and kneading away.
It was a strangely peaceful night.
* * *
The next morning, we had a light breakfast with the couple and headed to the field. As he’d said, it was a total mess from the prolonged rain. Calling it a field was generous. It was a mud pit. A mud pit.
I started planting Silver Cypresses around the field (or what was left of it). Their roots had strong water-absorbing properties, which would drain out some of the standing water.
In the center, I planted four Umbrella Trees. With their smooth, large leaves like coated umbrellas, they’d protect the crops from the rain for a while. It was more like a drizzle than a downpour, so they’d do the job.
Just in case, I grew all the plants as purifying variants. The rain here wasn’t ‘black rain’ yet, but if things worsened, ones with purification abilities would be helpful.
Around the field, we dug ditches to let the water flow out properly. With the couple, Lloyd, El, and Ayla all pitching in, it finished quickly. Though everyone ended up covered in mud.
Finally, applying [Fertile Land]...
“Whoa, the field really...”
The man wiped his sweat and flashed a bright smile. He seemed delighted to see it back to its former state. I handed him a seed pouch filled with sturdy varieties and said,
“It should hold for about two months. Keep an eye on the weather and make sure the ditches don’t clog.”
“I don’t even know how to thank you...”
“A delicious meal will do.”
“To meet a noble soul like you in times like these—it must be the twelve gods watching over me.”
“Haha, you flatter me.”
“Stay and rest as long as you like.”
“We’d love to, but we really should head to Dehid.”
At that, the man’s expression darkened.
“Look, didn’t I tell you yesterday? Crossing Dehid now is foolish. Go back through Solen to the Barak Empire.”
“We appreciate the concern, but we’ll be fine. We want to see for ourselves what’s happening in Dehid.”
“Sigh... Well, if anything happens, come back here anytime.”
“You’re too kind. Thank you.”
“Compared to what you’ve done, this is nothing. I thought we were done for with the field like that...”
The man grasped my hand with his wrinkled, calloused one. Roughened by years of farming, but warm all the same.
“There’s one favor I’d like to ask.”
“What is it? Anything.”
“You said you go to Dehid often. Could you introduce us to a reliable contact there so we can stay safely?”
“Of course. Of course.”
With the ‘black rain’ ongoing for so long, Dehid was surely in turmoil. Locals often grew wary of outsiders in such times. If it was bad, we might not even find lodging.
Better to borrow the couple’s connections in Dehid. Fortunately, they readily agreed to write a letter. To their longtime friend and trading partner, a merchant named ‘Paul’ in the market district.
We exchanged warm farewells, wishing each other luck, and left the small farm. The drizzle hadn’t stopped. The road was getting muddier, so like on the way to the farm, I rode Storm and scattered seeds to pave it as we went.
‘If we push without stopping, we can make it in a day, so let’s hustle.’
Storm didn’t tire, thankfully. It charged through the muck vigorously, true to its name—like a typhoon. The carriage followed steadily on the firm grass path. Occasionally, eerie sounds drifted by—wind or wails, impossible to tell—adding to the gloom.
But compared to the sights awaiting us in Dehid, that was nothing.