Chapter 57
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: Faith, Steel, and Force!
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Faith, steel, force!
A few days had passed since they turned the Blackstone Mine into a wasteland and returned.
The air enveloping the village was charged with excitement.
Polly and the caravan folk decided to stay in the village for a while to recover their battered bodies and spirits.
"Ugh! You're the Rat Rangers, right? Let's sign a guard contract with our caravan right now! We need you guys. I never want to get dragged back to that hellish mine again, not even if it kills me!"
"Got it. I'll throw in a free guard clause as a special deal."
"Really? Thanks, Roti!"
'Well, we're all in the same boat anyway. Plus, more hands make light work.'
On one side of the clearing, the existing villagers were bustling about.
They loaded trays with freshly baked bread, steaming meat stew, and chunks of cheese, diligently distributing them to their fellow beastkin who had nearly been hauled off as slaves.
"Take it slow and enjoy!"
"Th-thank you! Sniff..."
Among the rescued weren't just ratkin.
In one spot, a bunny-eared beastkin girl with long ears perked up was devouring carrots and bread voraciously.
On the other side, a squirrel girl with a bushy tail was slurping down her soup straight from the bowl.
There was even a hamster girl stuffing her cheeks full to bursting with bread.
[Ahh! All of them are my children of the earth!]
Floating in midair, Rodentia murmured, moved with emotion.
[Well, the bunny kids don't much like running on hamster wheels... but broadly speaking, they're all rodents! All my poor subjects!]
Meanwhile, in front of the beastkin girls wolfing down their food, the Rat Rangers and Sena were fervently proselytizing the faith of Rodentia to the new recruits.
"This warm stew and bread are all miracles bestowed by the great Lord of the Hamster Wheel! Pray and run on the wheel with effort! And you shall be saved! Food will come!"
"Everyone, the 'Lord' means none other than Lady Rodentia!"
The rodent beastkin girls, their dull eyes filling up on an empty stomach, suddenly sparkled like stars upon meeting their savior amid the passionate sermon.
"If... if we pray, do we really get food every day?"
"Yes! Of course!"
Sena clenched her fists and responded fervently to the innocent girl's question.
'Strictly speaking, that food comes from the village stores.'
But for the slum poor, what could be a more certain and merciful salvation than this?
Just then, a rat girl who had gone on dawn patrol toward the city came panting into the clearing.
"V-Village chief! This, this!"
What the girl thrust out urgently was a morning paper still reeking of fresh ink.
It was from the nearby adventurer guild branch.
'Finally, the bomb's gone off.'
I approached the large table where Polly, Hilde, and Mani were gathered and dramatically unfurled the crumpled newspaper for all to see.
The first thing that jumped out was the massive front-page headline plastered across the page.
Military Police Launch Emergency Search of Blackstone Mine... Controversy Over Dozens of Illegal Slaves!
"Perfect!"
A satisfied sigh escaped my lips as I scanned the article.
According to the report, the military police had rescued not only the human debtors trapped behind the mine but also dwarf and other-race slaves.
They had thoroughly searched areas we hadn't even reached.
"They sure know how to handle business."
I tapped the paper contentedly and nodded. Midway through the article was a brief account of the mine raid.
According to survivor testimonies, unidentified armed assailants raided at midnight, started fires, and destroyed key facilities. The perpetrators' identities remain unknown...
"Good. They haven't figured out it was the ratkin at all."
Mani, reading along, sighed in relief and patted her chest.
"Obviously."
Hilde, sipping her black tea gracefully from across the table, tilted her chin arrogantly and chimed in.
"My perfect wind spirit magic erased every sound, and that rat god's blessing blurred even our silhouettes. If anyone got a clear look at us in that chaos, that would be the real miracle."
[Hmph! Did you think I'd let those scum who treated my poor children like beasts live to wag their tongues!]
Rodentia, hovering in the air, snorted smugly in agreement.
But as I read on, something odd caught my eye. Survivors among the mine guards and overseers were extremely rare.
Suspecting as much, I casually asked the nearby Rat Rangers, who scratched their heads and confessed.
"Well... when we saw our kin hurt, we got so mad we hit them a bit hard with clubs, and they just... stopped moving forever! Squeak!"
"Uh... the mercenary barracks where we threw the firebombs. Come to think of it, the guards we knocked out were tied up tight in there!"
Ah. Putting the puzzle together, the answer emerged.
The guys we'd beaten senseless and left in the barracks had been caught in the massive fire that spread before the military police arrived, roasted alive.
Our first operation had sloppy cleanup, but it wiped out most witnesses by luck.
What fortune.
[Those who brutalized my children met their rightful end by karma!]
Rodentia drew a firm line, unconcerned with the sin of killing.
Well, we'd gotten absolution at the send-off anyway. It was justified self-defense to protect the village and kin. I'd think of it that way for peace of mind.
As I flipped to the back page, a deep furrow formed between my brows.
"...Huh?"
My eyes scanning the smudged print froze cold as ice.
"What's wrong, Roti? Something up?"
Mani asked cautiously as the mood soured.
I pointed roughly at the article's end with a stiff face.
Mine Chief Overseer and Surviving Private Guards Released Immediately Due to Insufficient Evidence.
"What, what?!"
Sena's eyes widened in disbelief. Gnashing my teeth, I recited the rest.
"And get this: last night, a mysterious fire broke out in the Security Bureau headquarters' evidence room, completely destroying even the slave contract remnants the military police barely seized from the scene..."
It felt like a sledgehammer to the back of the head.
'Playing dirty tricks like this too!'
Inspector Coldwell had laid the board to legally pressure the higher-ups by making evidence easy to collect.
But before it even reached the high court, someone torched it!
The article's last line was absurd.
Mine owner's legal team proves rescued laborers were all voluntary contract workers, expresses deep regret.
"Voluntary labor contracts? No way."
A perfect tail-cut.
'No, don't get worked up. In this rotten town, tricks like this were expected.'
"It's fine. Those forged scraps of paper can burn as much as they want."
"Roti...?"
I flashed a cold smile at my puzzled companions.
"The big shots up top will think they've cleanly severed their tails."
Without delay, I plunged my hand deep into my bosom.
The heavy leather texture met my fingertips.
I carefully pulled them out and casually tossed them onto the table.
With a rough scrape, they revealed themselves: a couple of letters sealed with blood-red wax.
And a notebook bound in black leather.
"The real noose to choke out those bastards isn't in the military police's shoddy evidence room—it's right here in my hands, safest of all!"
Was it that gutter rat instinct sniffing out the deadliest poison?
These reeked of fatal danger, so pocketing them was a godsend move.
"They were hidden in the vault's deepest secret compartment—not ordinary stuff. Just look at these letters: the real mastermind, the Ratstein Charity Foundation, is blatantly stamped here. And the real prize is this notebook."
All eyes gathered on the leather notebook.
"I only skimmed it, but it's packed with kidnapped beastkin lists, black money flows, even tribute records to upper nobles. It'll take time to decipher fully."
"My god."
Hilde gasped.
"For a rat... sometimes your brain works like the devil's, you know?"
Everyone marveled at my ironclad foresight in playing my trump card. But inside, I wasn't as calm as I looked.
'Even a quick glance shows sums way beyond imagination. Foreign names mixed in too.'
The notebook's lists wove a denser web of names than I'd dreamed, interlocking countless people.
I couldn't guess what colossal horror would erupt when I fully pried open this Pandora's box.
A ranger girl on watch from the bare watchtower shouted urgently.
"V-Village chief! At the village entrance...!"
Thud thud thud!
A horse charged into the village clearing.
Immaculate blue uniform without a speck of dust, nervously trimmed mustache.
It was Inspector Coldwell.
"You. Come here now."
"What's up? Ack! Squeak!"
Coldwell leaped from the saddle, his ugly mug twisted in fury, and roughly grabbed my scruff.
He dragged me to a deserted corner of the clearing.
The sudden menace made the Rat Rangers bristle with killing intent, hands on their bowguns.
I lightly raised a hand to hold them back.
"You reckless little rat brat...!"
Once shielded from prying eyes, Coldwell unleashed his pent-up rage.
He looked ready to chomp through his pipe.
"Do you even know what insane stunt you pulled last night? Blackstone Mine! Lunatics with crossbows stormed in at midnight, turned the whole place into an inferno, and massacred the guards!"
His eyes bored into my face.
"Leading an illegal armed force to raid a high noble's property—arson, destruction, mass murder! This shakes the kingdom's laws, a crime of crimes! Hanging offense! And you're a registered adventurer—aggravating factor!"
I breathed a sigh of relief at the warning. My prediction was spot-on.
'As expected. The mine scum were blinded by thick darkness and magic—couldn't ID us at all.'
Thanks to Hilde's spirit magic and Rodentia's blessing, survivors babbled about ghost crossbow squads.
He was here on suspicion alone.
I widened my eyes innocently and shrugged.
"Inspector, what scary things are you saying?"
"Don't play dumb!"
"I'm not— I really don't know. Arson? We were all in the clearing that night, holding an all-night service for Goddess Rodentia and sleeping like angels. Over a hundred villagers with wide-open eyes as our alibi."
Suppressing a smirk, I met his fierce glare head-on.
"Any solid proof we were at the mine?"
"You cheeky little...!"
Coldwell clutched his neck, swallowing a groan. No rebuttal slipped his tight lips.
'Just suspicion!'
No grounds to haul me in. This stickler wouldn't anyway.
"Ahem."
He cleared his throat loudly and released my collar.
"...Slippery as an eel, so I'll let it slide this once. My principles don't allow cuffs on suspicion alone. But watch yourself."
He glanced around, his voice dropping heavy like winter wind.
"You don't know who really backs the mine company. The kingdom's top nobles are tangled like sewer rats. Baron Schwarzenstein included."
Schwarzenstein.
The massive arms-dealing family from the Adlerheim Empire that Hilde had warned about.
Real owners of the Ratstein Foundation.
"That baron's tied deep to the Adlerheim homeland. Spans this kingdom's politics, business, high society, and dark alleys—a web of colossal connections."
His thick brows weighed heavy.
"They haven't ID'd the mine arsonists yet. But they're furious their vast wealth was hit and slaves freed."
His gloved hand thudded heavily on my small shoulder.
"Better lock up tight day and night. They'll demand blood payment."
After Coldwell left, I silently headed back to the village clearing.
Solid-framed houses, flat-packed earthen ground.
The cheerful laughter of rat girls peacefully tilling fields rode the wind.
But to greedy eyes, this cozy peace was just a free slave buffet.
My gaze reached the twelve Rat Rangers guarding the outer watchtowers and barricades.
'They've become fine elite soldiers in short order.'
But our future foes were heavyweights. Twelve heads were woefully short.
A cold resolve rose from my tightly clenched fist, nails digging in.
'If they try crushing this village with power...'
In that moment, truth dawned.
The perfect shield for us rats was just three things.
Faith, steel, and force!
I strode straight to the village chief hut, flung open the drawer.
Rough wool met my fingers.
I pulled out the beret and plopped it firmly atop my head, round ears poking through.
Stepping out, I bellowed at Mani and Sena.
"Mani! Ramp up Rapid Bowgun and mounted ballista production! Round up every carpenter rat for parts, buy iron stock now!"
"Huh? Making more weapons all of a sudden?"
"Sena! After tomorrow's morning service, muster everyone in the training yard. Call for volunteers!"
Sena blinked wide-eyed at my storm of orders.
"What? Volunteers out of nowhere? Something happen, Roti?"
Facing the barrage of confused stares, I adjusted my beret and declared.
"We prepare for the next war."
Top priority: train more Rat Rangers to swell our numbers.
Simultaneously, we needed intel.
What lurked in the Ratstein Foundation shell? Exactly who was Baron Schwarzenstein?
Our real foes were nobles.
'Faith and power—that's all!'