Chapter 271: translated
I Killed the Demon King. It was a mistake.
Chapter 271
"What's important to a bandit?"
A bald man with a bushy beard puffed on his tobacco and put on airs.
"First is 'mok.' Mok."
"Mok? Ah, you mean the boss? Is that why 'du' is attached before 'mok'? Because there need to be two of them?"
"I feel sorry for my life, having to talk with such ignorant bastards. Do I have two necks right now? Huh?!"
"Hey, Boss always lets his hands speak before his words. So what's this 'mok' anyway?"
"I'm talking about territory! Territory! Turf! Do I have to explain it like this for you to understand?"
"Ah, turf."
The bald man glanced at his subordinates who were stealing curious looks.
Although they grumbled, the bald man was the leader who commanded 100 bandits.
In other words, he was no different from a successful businessman. Naturally, wouldn't they want to learn how to succeed too?
"Watch carefully. First, we need plenty to plunder so we can survive, right? In other words, we need to secure territory exactly where merchants carrying cash or rich people wearing jewelry that's good for fencing are wandering around. That makes it easy to make money."
"Hey, that's too obvious."
"That red-haired bastard. You talk too much. Listen carefully, kid. What's the problem? In places where there are lots of targets to rob, there are also many guards and soldiers. When we go to rob them, many troublesome things happen."
When the bald man finished his tobacco, the red-haired man quickly slipped another one between his fingers. The bald man thought 'at least he's perceptive' as he lit the tobacco with a match.
"So, you have to make a choice here. If you want to make it big, you need to rob cities with lots of guards and soldiers, or make small but safe earnings. That's the subtle principle of business, or something like that."
"Ooh, How do you balance that, boss?"
"That's the skill. And that's the second most important thing for a bandit: fame."
"You mean popularity?"
"Yes. Ten, twenty years ago, if we made quite a name for ourselves, knights would come in droves to attack us. But how is it now? It's an era of great chaos where even the nobles are busy saving themselves. During this period, they don't have the capacity to protect small villages or towns."
The bald man spoke while making smoke rings.
"First, we completely rob several small villages to firmly imprint the name of our Brown Beard Bandit Group, then we casually visit a small town."
"Didn't you say there are soldiers?"
"Would they listen to a few gunshots from bandits who don't know style? But if they learn that we're the Brown Beard Bandit Group that burned several villages in the area, their balls will shrink and they'll tremble."
"Ooh"
"Then the village head or the town mayor will come out and make a deal with us. They'll pay a monthly tribute if we don't attack. That's when I say this: We'll protect this town instead. In exchange, give us money and women, and disband the soldiers and police. Then we'll end up swallowing the entire town whole."
The people listening to the boss started applauding.
"Wow, Boss, you're incredibly clever. So you're saying we're not bandits but guards? Like soldiers?"
The bald man shrugged and smiled.
"Killing people, robbing them, that old-fashioned stuff is outdated. If you're going to make a living, you need to control at least one town to deserve carrying your thing around."
"So that's why you chopped up and killed the people in the snow-covered village?"
"Snow-covered village? Ah, that village of herb gatherers? Well, it could be seen as something similar."
"Are there no survivors?"
"Well, we spared one guy who knew the geography of this area quite well. I think he was the village head's son? But... you seem to have gotten a bit more talkative?"
"I see. Fortunately, there is at least one survivor, right?"
The red-haired man who had been listening with sparkling eyes like a fervent believer pulled an axe from his back. The axe was black, and the blade had lightning streaking across the sky drawn on it, making it look stylish.
"What's that? It looks really cool..."
"That's fortunate. Then it doesn't matter if all of you die, right?"
The entire Brown Beard Bandit Group, including the bald man, froze. It felt like meeting a tiger in the middle of the night.
"Who, w-who are you?"
"Caesar El Lindger."
"...Ce-Caesar?"
"Yes."
Caesar swung Thunder.
Slash!
The bald man's head was cut off in one stroke and rolled down the white snow path.
Crack, zap, zap, zap!
Red lightning discharged dangerously from Thunder. Some bandits wet themselves where they stood.
"I am vengeance."
***
The green-haired man received the warm soup Caesar handed him. Though his hands were stiff from the cold, he somehow managed to take it, scoop it with a spoon, and put it on the tip of his tongue. As the warm soup went down and hit his stomach, he seemed to regain his senses.
"Th-thank you. Thank you, my benefactor."
"It's fine. Just eat for now."
As the man was about to eat the soup, Caesar spoke.
"By the way, what's your name?"
"Ah, ah, yes. It's Green."
"That's a hard name to forget."
"Th-thank you."
"Well, Green. It must be shocking, but I've already avenged your village people."
Green looked at the corpses of the bandits whose necks had been cut off in one stroke. A few eagles and beasts were lurking around to eat the corpses, but they couldn't easily approach because of Caesar's aura. Green burst into tears as an inexplicable sob rose up.
"Hic! M-mother. M… Motherrr!"
Even a boy who had just shed his childish appearance was difficult for Caesar to watch as he burst into tears.
Hadn't he lost all his family and the villagers he was close with in an instant? His crying simply echoed, unable to determine whether it was from anger or just a sense of loss.
'Was Yan feeling like this?'
Yan at least took revenge with his own hands, but this kid had not only failed to take revenge himself but had helplessly suffered. Caesar decided to wait until the boy had emptied all the tears that had deeply pooled in his heart.
What a truly miserable world.
***
By the time snow had piled up on the soup in the boy's hands, he finally stopped crying.
"First, I've already taken care of gathering the villagers' bodies. But I couldn't bury them. You'll have to do that yourself."
"...Thank you even for that."
"It will be difficult to do alone, so call some workers to help you. And here."
Caesar handed his backpack to the boy. Inside were jewelry and money.
"This should be enough money to hold funerals and make a fresh start."
"Ah, no. You should keep this, Lord Caesar..."
"I guess you haven't read the newspapers, but I have plenty of money. You need it more than I do."
Green eventually accepted the backpack.
"Thank you. How can I ever repay this kindness..."
"If you're talking about repayment, there is one thing I'd like to ask."
Caesar took out a pen and paper.
"You know the geography of this area well, right?"
"Yes, I do."
"Do you know a place called the Pigeon's Cave?"
"Pigeon's Cave... Perhaps you mean Lake Nepenthes...?"
Lake Nepenthes? Caesar read the boy's thoughts with psychometry. He discovered that the 'Pigeon's Cave' he was thinking of and the 'Lake Nepenthes' the boy was thinking of were the same place.
"Ah, they call it that too. Because once you go in, you can't get out."
"I know that place well. I often went there to gather ice mushrooms that grow every year."
"Draw me a map to get there."
"That... Would be difficult to draw as a map. I'll accompany you instead."
"No need. Just draw the map as meticulously as possible. I'll handle the rest."
"In that case..."
Green diligently melted the frozen ink with the tip of his tongue and drew the map.
Honestly, the map Green drew was little better than chicken scratch.
How would someone who had lived as an herb gatherer all his life know how to draw maps properly? It was something like: as you go, you'll see a big rock, turn left from there and go up, then you'll see a tree shaped like a deer's bottom, from there go up the slope on the right... That sort of thing.
But Caesar had psychometry, and with this map infused with the boy's experiences, finding the Pigeon's Cave would surely be as easy as eating cold rice. The boy spent almost 10 minutes diligently drawing a rough map and handed it to Caesar.
"It-it's here."
"Good. Then I'll be going now. Oh, take that bald head and hand it over to the local sheriff. If they ask who killed him, tell them I did."
"I understand."
"And have you ever fired a gun? Take this and use it to drive away tigers as you go."
Caesar gave the boy a gun before getting up. Green bowed his head deeply.
"I will truly strive to repay this kindness for my entire life."
"Alright. Then I'll be going now."
"Take care... Huh?"
When Green raised his head, Caesar had disappeared like a ghost. Green clutched the gun tightly and swallowed his tears.
The only way to repay this kindness was to spread the word about Caesar's good deed. Green decided to go to the city, meet journalists, and widely publicize what a great person Caesar was.
***
Caesar climbed the mountain as Green had told him. Going alone, he was able to make the journey in two days, which normally would take five to six days.
Caesar looked down at the Pigeon's Cave. The reason this area was called the Pigeon's Cave was simple. Below was a small lake, and cliffs surrounded it in a circular shape, protecting it.
Whether viewed from above or below, it looked like a pigeon's Cave. Perhaps because it was winter, the lake was frozen solid, and a cold air rose up from the Cave.
"Okay, the hardest part is over."
Now all that remained was finding the dungeon.
There were exactly two ways to enter the dungeon. One way was through a secret door at the bottom of the lake, accessible in summer, and the other was by swimming across the lake, landing on shore, and entering a cave deep inside the Cave.
Since it was now winter, the only option available to Caesar was to head for the cave. Caesar launched himself over the lake.
The height was considerable, causing him to fall for nearly 3 seconds. Just before touching the lake, Caesar swung Thunder downward.
Woosh!
The counterforce pushed Caesar's body away, allowing him to land on the lake as lightly as a feather. Caesar looked up at the sky.
"If you fall in here, you really can never escape."
Looking up at the sky, he felt like an insect trapped in a Nepenthes.
The cliff entrance curved inward like a jar, making it impossible for even expert climbers to escape. Caesar walked in the direction the wind was coming from.
After walking for about a minute, He arrived at a cave with bats hanging from the ceiling. The cave entrance was about three times Caesar's height, and a sharp cold wind blew from it.
This was the entrance to the dungeon Caesar had been looking for.
'Here I am, at a place that's not meant for non-adventurers.'
This 'Sinner's Dungeon' was originally a dungeon that could not be found or cleared systematically unless one was born an adventurer.
Basically, adventurers need to master skills like 'Superior Rope Walking', 'Clear Mind', 'Legendary Body Movement', and 'Aerial Somersault', and must know what verb means 'Grezawa' to clear this dungeon.
So, has Caesar mastered all those skills? This isn't some game world, so how would we know whether he's mastered them or not?
However, the strategy for clearing this 'Sinner's Dungeon' was already all in Caesar's head. Caesar entered the cave.
Without light, Caesar slowly headed into the winding cave with his lighter on.
The cave floor had traces of people who had been there before, from garbage to pieces of cloth, but they were all old traces.
These traces remained because when people fell into this lake, this cave was the only way out. People probably headed deeper into the cave with a sliver of hope that they could survive.
But what they faced must have been a very eerie space. Purple light leaked in at the end of the winding cave.
Caesar turned off his lighter and walked toward the purple light. And when he reached the end of the passage, Caesar stopped in his tracks.
Below Caesar's feet was a cliff nearly 10m high, and at the bottom was a stone floor emitting an ominous purple light. It was definitely artificially laid stonework, as it was flat as if plastered. The stone floor was covered with skulls. They were clearly the remains of people who had fallen and died here.
'If you fall here, you die no matter what.'
That purple floor wasn't just an ordinary floor. Like sticky traps for catching cockroaches, the moment you touch it, you can't move your hands and feet. You just stay still until you starve to death.
So how does one cross this and where should one go? The answer was in the chains hanging above.
You might think you could just grab any chain and cross, but which chain to choose could be determined by looking at the ceiling.
There was a huge ceiling painting on the ceiling, and although it must have been neglected for hundreds of years, the colors were still clear.
The painting depicted what seemed to be a forgotten war history, and it appeared to have been such a fierce battle that it was difficult to distinguish between allies and enemies in the chaotic fight.
What Caesar now needed to do was select the chains of the 'sinners' sealed in this prison and cross over.
'The list of those sinners should originally be known through clearing the "Dungeon of the Strayed Dragon Knight" beforehand, but I don't need that.'
Caesar grabbed the incorrect chain from the three chains in front of him.
The chain snapped and fell to the floor. But strangely, the discarded chain returned as if rewinding time and hung back on the ceiling. Caesar cracked his neck and smiled.
"Okay. This is the same too."
Caesar took a deep breath. From now on, he needed to move in one go.