I'm a Swallow, But *Cough!*

I coughed. *Kek!* *Kellok, kek!* Something black—ash or dirt, I couldn't tell—spurted from my mouth and nostrils. It took a while of hacking before clear snot finally dripped out.

I thought I was a goner.

'How long was I out?'

-About three days.

I went Saaak! in shock. Pellelian chuckled.

-Just kidding. Maybe three minutes.

Damn, that startled me. What a lame joke, springing it like that. Still, it didn't piss me off. I'd survived, after all.

I quickly checked my body for damage. And freaked out.

Aaack. My body...!

My beautiful crystal scales were shredded like a rag. Blood was pouring out, of course.

-Calm down. It's just molting.

Oh, right. I'd been feeling like it was time to shed anyway. The explosion must've blasted off the loose bits that hadn't separated yet.

'Still hurts like hell.'

The wounds were real enough. For an explosion that massive, I was lucky it wasn't worse. Guess all that heat resistance I'd built up paid off. I'd gotten messages about skill proficiencies rising...

Whoa. Bleeding resistance up by 1, heat by 1, and a brand-new Impact Lv2. Survival Instinct and Black Scale, which barely budged before, each gained a level too.

Come to think of it, Survival Instinct didn't warn me this time. Isn't that skill totally useless?

-But you're still alive, aren't you?

Pellelian defended it. His tone was unusually kind. I knew why this old man's suddenly so nice.

'Oh, right—you wanted me to use magic!'

-Exactly! Thanks to that, I took 'em all out in one go!

Didn't expect me to end up snake-roasted, though. Who knew that funky smell in the cavern was flammable gas? Though I vaguely recall reading about mine gas explosions in some science comic back in the day.

-Ahem...

'Sigh.'

Anyway, the blood moles threatening this place were all roasted dead. The ore crystals, being metal, were fine. The savory smell was whetting my appetite, but first things first—I pulled out the sprout chimera snake.

'This what you wanted to come here for, buddy?'

The sprout snake started wiggling and dancing the moment it emerged. I thought it was reacting to the blood moles gathered here, but nope. Even when I showed it the blood mole queen's magic stone, no dice.

Last time it was obsessed with magic stones. Why not now? Oh well, more for me. I gulped it down whole.

(For reference, the blood mole queen's stone was Grade 4.)

After chomping and swallowing the magic stone, something fun happened. Tender green shoots started sprouting from the sprout chimera snake's body—visible to the naked eye. Those were vine tendrils, in technical terms. The thin stems that ivy shoots out as it grows. And they were reaching for me.

'Wanna hold hands? Sure.'

No hands on me, but I offered my tail instead. The sprout snake's little vine tendril grabbed it.

Whoa! My tail tip tickled. A bit tense, but I let the sprout snake do its thing. Empathy? New skill since last time.

I focused and inspected it.

Another level up already, plus new skills: Vine Tendril and Empathy.

And I heard a message I normally wouldn't.

This message wasn't for me. Probably meant for the sprout snake. From what I've seen, others don't get these friendly notifications like I do. Maybe thanks to empathizing with it?

Who knows. Anyway, I shared its senses. Wondered what Perception Expansion did—feels like my senses sharpened insanely. I could feel the demonic essence in the surrounding ore crystals, and the weird mana flows.

Then the sprout snake pressed its vine tendril to an ore crystal and started sucking up the essence.

Uwaaack. The ore crystal's essence flooded in like a tidal wave.

Sprout snake leveled up again. Absorptive Growth too. Absorption sped up.

The ore veins that had glittered beautifully everywhere turned gray and lifeless in seconds.

Sprout snake! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Don't eat it all!

A ton of essence flowed through the vine tendril. And my wounds healed—not like a potion, but different.

Did it devour all those ore crystals to help me? Guess I can forgive it then.

Dunno what it is, but it got a cool trait on its own. Though... a plant with bones? Kinda weird.

The sprout snake had grown a lot. Now it had over five leaves. I stroked them gently.

Back into subspace it went. I scanned around.

'Big trouble.'

All those ore crystals—ruined. Better keep the sprout snake's binge a secret.

After rummaging a bit, I found the tunnel I'd come through. The entrance had collapsed, but digging a little revealed the original path intact. Impressive it hadn't fully caved in. Blood moles were tunnel-digging pros.

I crawled eagerly. Soon reached Dungkel and Manjin.

"H-Huh?!"

I'm back!

But the dwarves flipped out the second they saw me. One even swung his pickaxe.

"Wh-What happened to you?!"

Dungkel yelled. What's wrong with my look?

But he wasn't critiquing my appearance.

"You okay? Those wounds—you need potions, potions...!"

Oh. Charred everywhere, scabs caked on—must look half-dead. I raised my tail to stop Dungkel's fussing.

Manjin asked cautiously.

"The nest... was there one?"

I nodded.

"Then, those injuries... from fighting?"

Nodded again. Dwarves gaped in shock.

"Thought it was an earthquake. That much racket. What kinda battle was it?"

I pulled out paper and pen. About to boast in detail, but remembered the sprout snake's ore massacre. Hesitated, then wrote:

'Nothing happened.'

"Huh?!"

Too vague? 'Nest's gone. I took care of it all.'

Glanced at Manjin's face carefully.

"H-Huh. Wow."

He looked moved, eyes trembling.

"...Thanks."

What for? I fetched the sprout snake from subspace.

'Sprout buddy, can you heal that injured baby dwarf too?'

It nodded its leaves.

* * *

Solion Impel. The kingdom's capital. As befits the capital, wealth from across the realm poured in. High-end restaurants charging a month's living expenses for a single family of four meal. Designer brands crafting bespoke dresses and suits exclusively for nobles. Jewelers buying and selling artifacts and gems of notable value.

On Purewell Avenue, the capital's luxury strip, stood such a building. A three-story structure clad in black ebony wood. Gilded sign reading Daniel & Perrel. A guard in a sharp suit, sword at his hip, stood watch. Top-tier magic security devices, no doubt.

On the third floor was Daniel & Perrel's expert appraiser. A man in a purple velvet vest peered at a crown through a loupe.

"Hoo..."

A lifetime appraising rare gems and trinkets, and exclamations like that were rare from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him.

"This crown's from the northern barbarians. How's it preserved so perfectly?"

Now a small silver hairpin.

"This'd suit an imperial noble's daughter. See the dragon motif? Not for just anyone—high-status lady's accessory. Value goes without saying."

Excitement tinged his voice.

The merchant who'd brought them just smiled softly, silent.

"The gold coins are a shame, though. Crests all scratched off..."

Among the items: old-style gold coins.

"If these were Seirun gold, auction'd fetch four times face value."

But the crests were gouged, like with a knife.

"How'd you acquire these, if I may...?"

The appraiser asked carefully. Taboo question normally. But jeweler's greed bubbled up.

"Haha."

Royle, the merchant, just smiled gently.

The appraiser apologized at once.

"My apologies. Care to wait in the lounge? I'll finish appraising and prepare payment."

"Thank you."

"Payment preference? Gold's fine, but it'll be heavy."

"Half royal bank draft, half imperial bonds, please."

"Excellent choice. This way."

A waiting attendant led Royle and Amaen off.

The appraiser eyed the items again. Smile crept on.

Royle wasn't a long-time VIP at Daniel & Perrel. No high membership tier—huge fees incoming. Appraiser'd make bank too.

Maybe bump his tier, cut fees a bit. Unusual thought.

Worth it. New name, but exuded merchant gravitas. Items top-notch. Good to build ties.

As he pondered, someone snatched a gold coin.

"These are Seirun gold."

"Wha—!"

Who dares touch a senior appraiser's work? Furious, he looked up—and froze.

Familiar face.

"Preservation magic on 'em, but crests defaced. Looted dungeon stuff?"

Unremarkable guy. Tired shadows under eyes, glasses. But appraiser stiffened.

He knew this man: Swallow's Nest—Swallow House intel operative. Feared for dropping birds from the sky.

"Could be legit dungeon find."

"Why scratch the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crests?"

"Not uncommon in circulation..."

"Who sold 'em? Can I meet?"

"No."

Daniel & Perrel bought relics too; intel dropped by often. But client info stays confidential.

"Recent arrival, right?"

"Can't say."

"Left already? Contact... no, lounge?"

"..."

The operative grinned.

"Still in the lounge, huh."

No, damn—how? Appraiser panicked. Dealing with intel was always hell. They read faces like open books.

Operative turned.

"Wait! Don't—"

"Oh."

Turned back, no smile.

"Lounge it is."

Just probing? Felt like punching that blank face. Fantasy only.

"...I didn't tell you."

"Of course."

Operative left the stricken appraiser, descending.

Lounge on second floor. Lavish for elite clients: imported eastern carpets, ornate tapestries, chandeliers over plush sofas and tables.

Afternoon; only two guests. Amaen and Royle chatting over tea.

Operative approached, cold-reading on autopilot. Catching details.

Young man? No—adult. Fine clothes, unkempt beard. Habitual smiler. Merchant? Sun-tanned skin. Hands-on trader? Doesn't scream relic-hunter.

Kid. Not much like dad. Pale skin, cream curls—like a noble scion. Brand-new outfit. Crumbs on snacks—no etiquette training.

Wait. What.

Operative halted. Kid playing with fingers. Magic? Tiny blue mana orbs danced like living things between them. Precision control unreal. At that age?

Innate talent, obviously. Guy hauling raw genius like that. Selling high-value relics. No wonder the unpolished look and manners.

Puzzle pieces clicked. Knew their origin.

"Um..."

Operative loomed; Royle asked, flustered.

"Who might you be?"

Operative clapped heels.

"Just a swallow from Swallow House, passing by."

"Pardon?"

Royle's face twisted oddly.

Operative continued calmly.

"From the Magic Tower, right? Sorry to interrupt your rest."

"Ah...?"