Chapter 20
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: Ancient Camouflage (3)
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The morning in the dungeon begins with prayer.
"Lord of the Hamster Wheel..."
After finishing my prayer, I stretched out my tail and yawned luxuriously.
"Yaaawn..."
Faint amber light seeped through the cracks in the stone.
Time sense dulled easily in underground ruins like this, but we woke right on schedule thanks to the reliable rumble of our stomachs.
"Quirrel, Squeak, good work."
"Chit!"
I rewarded the Horned Rats who'd stood watch all night with chunks of cheese and sent them off.
We quickly filled up on rations and water for breakfast, then shouldered our packs.
"Let's go. Time to scrape together another haul today."
We dismantled the rock pile camouflage over the entrance and stepped outside.
The ruins' avenue was already bustling with busy adventurers coming and going.
Scorch marks and bloodstains stood out here and there.
Overnight, some must've struck gold, while others busted.
Those bloodstains were fresh... someone probably bit the dust.
"Hey, Reti, doesn't it feel off? The Lich Clan, I mean."
Mani picked up a broken, rusted arrowhead from the ground and tilted her head.
"What is?"
"The Lich Clan, those Necromancers. If they've come this far in, we'd have run into them by now, but not a single one. Do they only hit easy hunting grounds?"
She had a point. The creepy skeleton auto-squads that tripped over our feet in the Glowing Cave were nowhere to be seen here.
"Maybe. The Glowing Cave's mostly slow idiots like Goblins and Stonemen."
I propped my chin on my hand and reasoned it out.
"But this place is different. Goblins here are armed, and tough ones like Hobgoblins pop up. Skeletons are just bones, right? Low durability. They'd rack up repair bills patching up shattered ones here."
"Ah! Right. Broken bones need mana to reattach, and that costs money. Figures those merchants crunch the numbers fast."
Mani nodded like the engineer she was and clicked her tongue.
Cost-performance was the issue, alright. The Lich Clan's absence proved this place's difficulty had spiked.
We tightened our nerves and pressed on with exploration. We took down a Goblin scout leaping from behind a collapsed statue with the Rapid Bowgun, then skirted a swarm of giant bats dangling from the ceiling.
"Monsters just keep coming, huh? We cleared this section yesterday."
I asked while slicing off the Goblin's ear with my dagger.
"Yeah. Word is, the dungeon itself is a massive mana blob, so they respawn like mold."
Sena grumbled as she wiped Goblin blood from her shield.
Dungeons in this world were like living mega-organisms. Over time, mana clumped and regenerated monsters.
Sounded like game lore, but facing it for real felt like an endless grind of labor.
Sena chimed in with abbey knowledge, backing me up.
"Right. The monks said it's clumps of the earth's malice. Gotta cull 'em periodically, or the dungeon overflows outward."
"Overflows?"
"Yeah, they call it a flood. Happens sometimes in neglected outskirts dungeons with no hunters. Monsters pour out like a tidal wave! Could wipe a village or two off the map overnight!"
Sena widened her eyes in a spooky face. Mani gasped beside her.
"For real? That's bad news. Imagine those things swarming our workshop... ugh."
Mani shuddered at the thought. Disaster for sure.
Dungeon monsters varied wildly, but they all united perfectly in hating humans and wrecking everything.
"Our mine was like that too. Monsters'd burrow in whenever, trying to steal ore. Dwarf warriors patrolled daily. Guess dungeons are the same! News to me."
"Exactly! Leave a big one alone, and cities like Oakwood—or even the capital Dunholm—could be in danger."
Sena clenched her fist heroically.
"That's why the abbot said aspiring Holy Knights start as adventurers. Slaying monsters isn't just earning coin—it's righteous service protecting the world!"
Sena moved on duty, not mere justice. Adventurers were miners hauling resources and janitors keeping cities safe.
But listening to Sena and Mani's grave talk stirred my past-life senses with a question.
"Hold up. Even if a big dungeon overflows, isn't it no big deal?"
"Huh? Why?"
Sena and Mani stared at me. I casually pointed toward our entrance—the outside world.
"Just gun 'em down or blast with cannons."
"...Huh?"
The girls' faces went blank, like they'd forgotten something obvious.
"Military Police carry muskets, right? Encyclopedia says the army's got super-strong types like Great Sword Nobles and Robe Nobles. Even steam trains with cannons. Monster horde shows up? Slap some artillery on the walls, boom—mincemeat."
Oakwood's walls hid hefty cannons discreetly.
No matter how Hobgoblins rampage or Ogres flex, they're equal protein lumps before shells.
"Uh... yeah, true?"
Mani scratched her chin.
"Now that you mention it. That White Skull guy one-shotted a Hobgoblin with a single bullet. Mass volley from hundreds? Nothing survives."
"Right? Flood or whatever, firepower wins."
Sena looked a bit shocked.
"D-Does that mean our Holy Order's sacred role... gets sidelined by cannons?"
Personal take: this world's civ level could totally handle monster threats.
One unsolved puzzle remained, though.
'If it's so controllable and profitable, why not state-run?'
Instead of taxing entrances, send troops, sweep clean, monopolize resources. Run it like state mines—treasury overflows.
'Ah, right. Cost-performance again.'
Taxing adventurers was cheaper long-term. We're disposable contractors—no payouts if we die.
"Bosses sure are smart..."
"Huh? Reti, what'd you say?"
"Nothing. Ears all cut? Let's move before others show."
I flashed a wry smile and pocketed the Goblin-ear pouch.
Bottom line: we're rats spinning the wheel in this giant system.
But what can you do? Spin hard for that cheese.
"Let's go, Horned Rats! Lord, pretty please!"
[Very well! Advance!]
We stepped back into the dark ruins.
Short break time. I borrowed Sena's Magic Slate and powered it up.
Tsssh... static.
"Ugh, no signal."
Magic net sensitivity was tanking. Deep dungeon messed with mana comms.
Good thing the offline adventurer encyclopedia loaded fine.
"Bronze next is Silver, right?"
"Yeah. But it's worlds apart from Iron to Bronze."
Sena handed me the waterskin and chimed in.
"Bronze is just diligent quests. Silver needs strict review. Unspoken rule: handle mana."
"Mana?"
"Yeah. Aura on blades, spells, or holy power."
I recalled the bald adventurer who smashed that Hobgoblin last time—White Skull party's leader.
"That guy brute-forced it, no mana visible. Used a gun too."
"We just can't see it."
More stuff to learn piling up.
"Gun permits start at Silver too, right?"
"Yep. State's vouching: 'This one's safe with a gun, controllable.' Takes serious creds."
Rank chart on-screen looked daunting.
Silver alone meant hardcore vet.
Gold? Walking WMDs, not mere adventurers.
Top Platinum: royal-titled heroes.
"Silver's brutal..."
I closed the slate. Focus on Goblins first.
We packed up and descended deeper.
Scale grew massive underground, but lighting stones thinned, dimming everything.
"Ugh... creepy vibe."
Eerie yells and scraping metal echoed in the dark. We lit hip lanterns and closed ranks.
"Stick together in this. Back-to-back."
That's when it hit.
"Grrr..."
Rough breathing. Round the corner—two red eyes gleamed from shadow.
"Gasp!"
Hobgoblin.
Not normal. Bloodshot red eyes like bad food, steam pouring from maw!
Way bigger than any we'd seen. Head taller than a grown man, shoulders double-wide behemoth.
Rippling rock-hard muscles.
But the killer: its right hand gripped a pristine two-handed greatsword, silver blade gleaming coldly.
"That's... well-maintained. Stole from a person!"
Mani muttered at the weapon. Surely some skilled adventurer's prized blade. Eaten the owner, claimed it.
Hobgoblin hefted the massive sword one-handed like a toy.
"Kieeeek!"
Spotted us, bellowed ear-splitting roar, charged!
'Run?'
No, faster than last Hobgoblin.
But we had our ace.
Ground shook.
"First strike! Mani!"
"Got it!"
Mani shouldered her Mani-Ballista, pre-loaded.
"Eat this, pig!"
Boom!
Spear-thick bolt tore air.
Splat!
"Krrk!"
Buried deep in gut. No pierce, but buckled its waist. Staggered.
"Good!"
"Now! Pour it on!"
I cranked the Rapid Bowgun lever madly.
Thud-thud-thud!
Arrow storm. Headshots first. Not dumb—instinctively raised broad blade to shield face.
Clang! Clank!
Two head-arrows ricocheted. Expected that.
Real targets: knee joints, shoulders!
Rest slammed thigh and shoulder.
"Groooar!"
Pained scream, limped on with gut bolt. Speed dropped.
"Damn, tanky! Incoming!"
Distance closing. No reload time.
"Shield up!"
It raised greatsword high. Shadow engulfed us three.
"Don't block head-on! We're small!"
I yelled. All ~120cm tall.
Full-frontal that overhead smash? Shield and all, we'd be rat sashimi!
"Deflect!"
"Hearth Goddess!"
Sena angled round shield, dove aside.
Kraaang!
Blade grazed shield edge, cratered stone floor. Sparks flew, tofu-sliced rock.
"Ngh!"
Sena shoved back by impact. Dodged direct hit. Sword stuck a beat—balance broken.
"Now! Legs! The legs!"
Too short for head/neck.
One way: drag it to our eye level!
Golden dust enveloped us right on cue.
"Eh? Chit?"
[Apostle Reti! Apostle Sena! Honorable Rat Apostle Mani! Blessed!]
"Lady Rodentia!"
[Run like teasing a cat! Rat swiftness! You'll run untiring!]
Blessing wrapped us.
"Hyah!"
I bolted straight in.
Thud!
"Grrk!"
Blazing speed surprised us. We rolled, dashed, circled the brute relentlessly.
"Me first! Watch over me, ancestors!"
Mani rolled in hammer-first, smashed instep.
Crack!
"Krrak!!"
Bone snap, Hobgoblin flailed off-balance.
My turn.
"Die!"
Handaxe hacked inner knee. Sena slashed/stabbed flank and thigh with flaming shortsword.
"Kieeeek!"
Thrashed wild arm swings. Giant fist whooshed past my nose. Graze alone = concussion!
"Ankles! Hit the ankles!"
Slash!
Sena's blade nicked ankle back; as it turned screaming, Mani's hammer crushed toes. My axe chopped above knee!
Blessed agility: roll back, poke, repeat.
Furious charge turned to kneel-collapse.
"It's working!"
"Again!"
"Charge!"
Mani running-jumped atop it. Hammer plummeted on crown.
Thunk!
Dull crack, head lolled. Massive bulk toppled forward with a boom.
"...D-Did we get it?"
Sena panted heavily.
Oh, Sena... don't jinx it...
Faceplanted motionless. Blood pooled.
"We beat a Hobgoblin?"
Past-life tropes screamed warning. Feigning death = sly bastards' basics.
Still gripped the greatsword too.
"No, hold up!"
I urgently pulled the party back.
"Might fake. Confirm kill from afar. Don't approach."
[Agreed! Drop guard at the last second, and you trip the rat trap!]
Heeding my warning and Rodentia's advice, we backed to 10m. Mani cranked her ballista winch groaning. I reloaded Rapid Bowgun bolt bundle.
"Ready..."
Then—fallen Hobgoblin's fingers clenched sword hilt. Peeked head up, eyes met mine.
'Sly bastard!'
Good call.
It planned mutual destruction if we approached careless!
But distance + crossbows? Panic clear.
"Kr... grrrk?"
"Now! Fire!"
Thud-thud!
Mani's bolt skull-pierced. My three arrows nailed back and nape.
"Krraa..."
No full scream, just twitched limp. Sword slipped free.
This time, real.
"Confirm kill."
Sena cautiously stabbed throat deep with shortsword. No reaction.
"Dead! We won!"
"Woo!"
Relief cheers erupted.
Fresh Bronze party took armed Hobgoblin, minimal injuries.
Near-miracle feat.
"Look! This sword's mint!"
Mani tried lifting Hobgoblin's greatsword, grunted at effort.
Her height in length, hefty weight.
Some blade nicks, but polish it'd shine silver—fine steel.
"Sell this? Nice payout. Real sword! Mani, estimate?"
"Chipped used goods, lowball... but this quality? Fifteen silvers easy."
"Fifteen silvers!"
We eyed each other over spoils.
"Jackpot!"
No Lich Clan glut to crash prices.
"Brains over brawn. Head-on? We'd be diced."
I sighed relief, slung crossbow.
Silver far, but we were tougher.
"Spoils packed—head up. Real meat party tonight! Fried chicken and beer!"
"Beer! Yes!"
We claimed fangs and weapon, strutted back like conquering generals.
Our steps felt lighter than ever in the dark.