Chapter 138
Chapter 138
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 138
Chapter Title: Miro's Time-Space (2)
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However, the leader was not an easy opponent.
“We're here to meet the natives. Satisfied?”
“That might be an answer, but you'll have to explain. It's a breach of contract. If this is how it's going to be, I won't ask any more questions.”
The leader realized his mistake. He'd been so focused on teasing Shirone that he'd ended the deal too soon.
The quick-witted female mage added an explanation.
“We don't know anything beyond that, either. Because we really are just here to meet the natives.”
“I see.”
Shirone glanced back at his friends and nodded. If the mercenaries didn't know what was in the basement either, then the risk of falling into a trap was gone for now.
Thinking it was a decent deal after all, Shirone took out another gold coin.
“Why are you here to meet the natives? Here's one gold.”
The archer who took the money licked his lips, conflicted. To be honest, it was an embarrassing story to tell others.
“To get Loop. It's sold on the market, but you can buy it here in bulk for much cheaper. We plan to sell it to fund our adventures. There, does that answer your question?”
Shirone was momentarily shocked. So this was a place for smuggling Loop, unrelated to the secrets of the ruins.
But it was too early to jump to conclusions, as the mercenaries had also come here with only fragmented information.
‘What's going on? This is completely different from what I expected. A place that sells drugs? No, I shouldn't think of it that way. It's a drug to commoners, but a ritual tool for the natives. Therefore, it must be a sacred object. Which means, in the end…’
Having finished his thought, Shirone asked.
“Is this passage, by any chance, connected to the native autonomous zone?”
“What? How did you… Damn it!”
Realizing his mistake, the archer scowled. He had given it away without taking the money.
At that, Shirone rummaged through his pocket and took out a gold coin. He had asked in a hurry, but he had no intention of cheating.
“Ah, here's one gold. I'm sorry for asking first.”
The archer stared blankly at Shirone's outstretched hand.
Of course, one gold was not easy money to come by, but for a mercenary with some experience, it wasn't an amount to tremble over.
“Tch! Forget it. It was my mistake.”
“It wasn't a mistake. That's how the contract works.”
“I know! I just can't take it because my pride is hurt. Dammit, to think I'd make a mistake like this. I've still got a long way to go.”
“Then I'll consider the last question a freebie.”
Shirone put the gold coin away without a second thought. Insisting on paying when the other party refused was not the attitude of a sensible student.
The archer felt a pointless surge of anger. He felt like he was being played by a kid the size of a chestnut.
“In return, let me ask you something. How did you figure it out? That information is actually top secret.”
“Because Loop is a sacred object to the natives. Besides, if the profit margin is high enough to make a fortune selling it, it wouldn't be carelessly distributed. Ultimately, it would require permission from someone with authority among the natives, and the only place someone like that would be is the autonomous zone.”
The archer was speechless. He had stumbled upon the Kergo Ruins while racking his brain for a way to make money.
The conclusion he had reached after staying up for days and nights researching Loop and scouring the information market was all contained in Shirone's brief words.
“Tch! You've got a real knack for cunning. Any more questions?”
“No, I'm good. Let's just go down and see for ourselves.”
The archer gave a bitter smile. He guessed why Shirone wasn't asking any more questions. It was probably because he had realized that no matter what he asked, the archer had nothing more to tell him.
Shirone's group descended for another twenty minutes. Even though it was a spiral staircase, the depth was immense.
At the bottom of the stairs, a single hallway stretched out. Two natives stood before an iron door ten meters ahead.
Unlike the natives outside, they were bare-chested, and their bare feet showed beneath their trousers.
Tattoos starting from their navels branched upwards, reaching their faces, looking fearsome even from a distance.
Shirone figured this couldn't be the autonomous zone. They would have to walk at least a few kilometers to enter the jungle of Mount Toa.
The mercenaries were also visibly tense. The archer, acting as interpreter, moved to the leader's side.
After they exchanged a few code words in the Kergo language, a native pulled a switch.
An iron wheel turned, and the door slid open to the sides.
“Whoa…”
Shirone's eyes sparkled as if he had fallen into a strange new world.
It was an octagonal room crafted from stone walls. An iron door was visible across from the entrance, guarded by three men.
In the center, a flat octagonal altar, matching the shape of the room, was set on the floor. Above each of its eight corners, a sphere roughly thirty centimeters in diameter floated in the air.
Shirone searched his memory. He was sure he had seen those spheres somewhere before.
“Huh, what's that?”
The archer looked back at Shirone, puzzled. The chances of him seeing something familiar were extremely slim, considering he didn't even know what was here before they arrived.
“What's wrong? Do you know what those are?”
“Those are, without a doubt, Miro's…”
The leader sneered.
“Hmph, who do you think you are, acting like you know something? What, did they remind you of the pair of balls hanging between your legs?”
The leader had disliked Shirone since the pub. He hated men who acted tough in front of women but didn't have the guts to fight. Because he didn't have a woman to act tough for.
“Miro? Did you just say Miro?”
one of the natives guarding the entrance asked. Even Shirone, who didn't know the language, could recognize the name Miro.
Curious about the situation, the archer generously translated.
“He's asking if you know Miro.”
“Yes. I've met him once.”
When the archer relayed this, the native's eyes narrowed. His tattoos twisted, making him look like a goblin from a legend.
“Met him? That is not possible. You are lying.”
“No. I really did meet him.”
The native fell into deep thought. But he seemed to reach a simple conclusion, his expression quickly becoming serene.
“I judge nothing. Only the Angel's Eye will watch you.”
Leaving them with those incomprehensible words, he closed the iron door. Shirone turned away, putting aside his disappointment. He figured things were only just beginning.
As the mercenaries walked to the center, one of the natives from the opposite iron door approached.
It seemed that two of the three natives were gatekeepers, and only the man now approaching had a different role.
One could tell just by the color of his tattoos. While ordinary Kergo people had red tattoos, this man's were white.
“This is the Room of Achievement and Sacrifice. The Angel's Eight Eyes will judge you. To enter Kergo, you must pass through Miro's Time-Space.”
Hearing the name Miro, Shirone quickly turned his head. But the archer kept his mouth shut, apparently having no intention of translating anymore.
“Miro? Did he just say Miro? What is he saying?”
“Hey, don't get the wrong idea. I'm not your personal interpreter. Why should I have to tell you everything?”
“You're going to tell your companions anyway. Just tell me.”
“No. From now on, let's not bother each other. We have our own business here.”
The man with the white tattoos crossed his arms and stared at them. He could tell from Shirone's gestures that he was demanding a translation.
“Is there one among you who knows the ancient tongue?”
“Ah, I know a little.”
“Then translate. The opportunity is equal for all. The Angel's Eyes watch everything in Miro's Time-Space.”
“Why should I? They're not with us. I don't know what you're judging, but I'm asking you to separate us.”
“No. From the moment you entered the Room of Achievement and Sacrifice, you are one. Whether you will achieve or sacrifice. That is the only choice you can make.”
“Dammit! What rotten luck. What are we supposed to do with these kids?”
As the conversation dragged on, the mage pressed him.
“What in the world are they saying? Hurry up and tell us.”
With no other choice, the archer relayed what he had heard.
Hearing the whole story, the mercenaries grew irritated. If they had known this would happen, they would have found a way to ditch Shirone's group.
“The Angel's Eyes will judge us? Does that mean they're testing our skills? And we're being lumped in with those brats? Isn't this totally disadvantageous for us?”
As the mage vented her frustration, Amy's eyes narrowed.
“Hey, you keep calling us brats, but how do you know whether we have skills or not?”
“Hohoho! Oh, is that so? Not content with getting a free ride, you're planning to mooch off us too? Let me make this clear: if you mess things up for us, you'd better be prepared for the consequences.”
“Hmph! Do whatever you want. We have no intention of working with you anyway.”
The mage gave a cold smile. Who did they think she was? She was a top-tier rookie, a rising star among the mages in the mercenary world.
She didn't even associate with low-quality mercenaries, which was why her companions were all of a similar age and skill level.
On the other hand, those naive kids were clearly just students who had learned some swordsmanship and magic somewhere.
There was a world of difference between what you learned in school and a real battle. As a mercenary who had to readily risk her life, and one praised as a rising star at that, she was confident she could hold her own even against a certified mage.
‘Hmph, just you wait, brats. Once we get past this, I'll make you beg with tears streaming down your faces.’
In any case, thanks to the women's war of nerves, the petty feelings could be set aside.
As the eight of them turned to wait for what was next, the man with the white tattoos began his explanation.
“There are two conditions to pass through the gate. You can either prove your own ability, or you can send one person through by the sacrifice of another.”
As soon as he heard the translation, Shirone threw out a question.
“What do you mean by 'prove'? What specifically do we have to prove?”
“Hey! Stop interrupting! I'm not translating for you!”
“He said we have to do this together. Just hurry up and ask.”
Left speechless, the archer gritted his teeth and translated. The man in white nodded and added more.
“Descendant of warriors, step onto the Altar of Judgment and display your specialty on one of the eight spheres. The divine language will answer. A red light means failure. A white light means success.”
Shirone continued to pour out questions. It was as if he had hired the archer as his personal interpreter.
“Is there a limit to the number of attempts? For example, can one person try multiple times?”
“You may try until your strength is depleted. If one person passes, everyone can go to Kergo. If not a single person passes, you must turn back. This is the will of Miro and the mission of the Kergo people.”
“You mentioned achievement and sacrifice. What is the sacrifice?”
“One person can pass with the blood of another.”
“Do you mean they have to die?”
“Yes.”
Hearing that, Shirone was lost in thought. They could challenge it as many times as they wanted, and if just one person succeeded, everyone could pass.
But what if no one passed? They would have no choice but to pass through the gate by sacrificing a companion. And it was one life for one passage.
‘Something's strange. Is there a reason to go to Kergo that's worth such a cruel act? It makes no sense to kill a companion simply to get Loop. There must be something more in Kergo. In the end, the mercenaries also came here without knowing the real secret of this underground place.’
Shirone gestured again for him to translate. The information they'd gathered so far had been useful, so the archer agreed without complaint.
“Are there any restrictions on the sacrifice? For example, bringing someone else from outside, or using the corpse of someone already dead.”
“No. The moment you entered this room, you became one. The door will never open until everyone agrees. Therefore, such a question is meaningless.”