Chapter 42
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: 10. Mine Dungeon (3)
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The monster lair differed from the mine shafts in that it was damp everywhere. Water droplets forming on the stalactites jutting down like spikes from the ceiling occasionally plopped onto people's heads. Puddles dotted the passageways here and there. But no one was bold enough to drink from them like they were fresh water.
The soggy floor was littered with round, foul-smelling droppings that reeked of mildew and sticky bodily fluids. Anyone could tell at a glance these were unmistakable monster traces.
The dungeon grew steadily colder. Even Viola, who had reached the Iron Man realm, couldn't completely ignore the chill. She pulled a thin cloth garment from her supply bag and layered it on top. Everyone else added one or two extra layers just like her.
After walking a bit further like that...
In the chilling atmosphere akin to the cold itself, Viola sensed something wriggling beyond the faint light in the distance.
Ah.
It was obviously a monster. As usual, she glanced back once, signaling everyone to prepare for any contingency. The mercenaries readied themselves for battle at any moment.
Cautious footsteps splashing softly, and the monster's form gradually revealed itself.
It was a massive, yellowish-brown grub-like beast. Even Viola didn't know what it was.
Whatever it was, though, beating it enough would kill it. That was the universal method for slaying monsters, and Viola led one of the top ten groups that excelled at it.
The monster, naturally, went berserk the moment it spotted prey and charged. Unlike the grubs they knew, it moved at surprising speed. Slithering like a snake, it burrowed straight into the mercenaries' midst in an instant. Fortunately, everyone was on high alert, so they blocked its simple biting attack. Still, the bite force of its saw-like teeth was formidable—the shield that got chomped crumpled with a grinding screech in seconds.
"Hit it—!"
Seizing the moment, the mercenaries hammered the grub monster's body at Viola's sharp command. Its shell was tougher than expected, but not harder than solid metal. Naturally, the outer layer burst open, spilling foul innards, and it died soon after.
It wasn't particularly strong. Viola flicked the guts off her sword while scanning the surroundings.
"Anyone know what this thing is?"
If there was info, it was always better to know. Especially when exploring unknown spaces.
But the odds of someone else knowing what even she didn't were slim. Of course, she knew that and asked anyway. Just in case.
Then someone shot up their hand. All eyes turned that way.
Viola's gaze landed on a familiar number. 522. It was Allen.
"It's called a Ssalver."
"...Ssalver?"
He stepped forward and rattled off the details without hesitation.
"It's ancient tongue for 'underground worm.' They live in very deep places, so they're rarely seen. ...Which means we've come pretty deep. And they always form hives. Even one Ssalver means this is their habitat."
"Even one?"
"Yes. But if you take out the queen at the hive's center, the rest will die off naturally over time. ...This is definitely an environment they'd love."
...Look at this guy.
Viola barely suppressed the grin tugging at her lips.
"Any other notable traits?"
"Nothing special. ...Well, once the Ssalvers are gone, most other monsters will follow. Not completely, of course."
Complete dungeon clearances didn't exist anyway. Even if they cleared it out as much as possible, monsters would return after some time, and incidents like this would repeat. But it wasn't their job to worry about that. When the time came, the marquess's house would commission another big job.
That was what it meant for a dungeon to form. Once an entrance appeared, the disaster repeated endlessly—unless they sealed off the entire mine, it would always be a hazard.
"So, we just need to, uh, get that Ssa...?"
"Ssalver."
"Right, the queen of these Ssalvers?"
"Yes. That'll clean up the dungeon quite a bit."
A much clearer objective. Far better than just wandering around killing monsters.
"Do you know how to find the queen?"
"...Sorry. Not that far."
"No need to apologize. You've given us crucial info already. We'll find the queen ourselves. ...Right?"
When Viola asked the leaders like that, they chimed in with quick agreement: Yes, exactly.
As expected. You couldn't judge the whole from one sample, but she could sense their potential.
...Yeah, knowing that much made this expedition a success in its own right. Realistically, even he couldn't expect standout performance from such low-potential mercenaries in a dungeon.
Viola had already gauged the full potential of the Allen Mercenary Corps. The best was the mage at 275, then the swordsman at 251. No one else was usable by her standards. Even the mage was borderline for Viola Mercenary Corps' first string, even if fully realized...
"Moving out again—."
Viola took the lead once more. As if proving Allen's words, Ssalvers appeared frequently. They were still manageable so far, but the problem was their increasing numbers.
The tunnel-like passages in the vast, rounded monster lair had no real peculiarities. Just smooth walls and floors, aside from stalactites dangling from the ceiling.
However, large holes dotted the passage walls intermittently—upon inspection, they resembled big drainage ditches with flowing water. Possibly monster paths. Since they gaped wide open anyway, the mercenaries used them as toilets. The Allen Mercenary Corps made good use of them too.
Exploration, combat, and rest cycled several times. After about five or six rounds, Viola announced the end of the first day's scouting.
"Shiiiiiit—."
The muscular giant Cabrioldi plopped down with a drawn-out curse. The other members looked half-dead too.
It had been a brutal march. Everyone knew they couldn't linger too long in a dungeon, so they had to move fast—but even accounting for that, it was grueling.
Of course, the top-ten Viola Mercenary Corps treated it like nothing, looking utterly unfazed. As expected of the elite.
The leaders, having set up rough sleeping spots, gathered at Viola's summons.
"I trust you'll all do well, but I want you to keep this firmly in mind. This is a dungeon—not some casual outing. One slip can lead to disaster. Make sure your members know it. And don't start petty squabbles. ...Got it?"
"Yes, Leader."
"Good. You all did great today. Rest up, and I'll count on you tomorrow."
"You worked hard too, Leader. Sleep well."
The leaders returned to their spots. Allen repeatedly warned his members not to slack off or daydream on night watch.
Only after a final gear check could Allen finally lie down on his mat.
"Ughhh...."
No matter how hard he tried to hold it in, a groan escaped. The red-robed mage lying right beside the leader whispered to him quietly.
"You worked really hard today..."
"It's what a leader does. You sleep too. Tomorrow's gonna be rough."
"...Yes, Leader. Good night."
Allen passed out the moment he closed his eyes.
...Aside from a couple monsters lurking around overnight, nothing happened, thankfully.
The next day was more forced marching. Ssalvers kept coming endlessly, their numbers visibly swelling. They could still handle it, but everyone was nearing their limit—physically and mentally.
Scouting in a sunless dungeon eroded their sense of time even more than expected. One day felt like two, two like four. Objectively little time had passed, but it felt like forever.
The whole corps suffered extreme fatigue and cold. The top-ten Viola group performed well, but as a mix of second- and third-stringers, they weren't overwhelming. Without them, they'd have retreated long ago.
Allen was at his breaking point too but hid it, forcing his legs to keep moving. If the leader showed weakness here, it'd demoralize everyone. Better to collapse outside the mine.
"...Hey, you okay?"
"Y-yeah... still... yeah..."
The timid priest Dmitris looked half-dead but held on. Complaining would probably feel awkward.
...Good kid.
Thus, the second grueling scout, with death dancing before their eyes, finally ended. Even Viola was astounded by the endless, massive passageway length. The dungeons she'd known before were child's play by comparison. ...They'd dug this mine deep, alright.
"Camping here—!"
The corps quickly unrolled mats, sat, and filled their starving bellies. Just meager jerky, but hunger was the best sauce—after all the hardship, it tasted like honey.
Allen wanted to crash immediately but finished his final checks anyway. Duty was duty, no matter how exhausted.
"Leader, rest already. You'll drop dead for real."
"...Yeah."
The leader flopped onto his mat. A groan slipped out involuntarily. If only the cold were less biting, but this bone-chilling freeze wouldn't adapt.
...The cursed canyon seemed better by comparison...
This hellish dungeon scout evoked memories of a midwinter march. It felt twice as bad as that.
He let out a wry chuckle at the relentless mercenary grind and fell asleep. The red-robed mage beside him murmured good work, but he was already out cold.
Extreme fatigue dulled even the cold.
The night watchmen yawned endlessly. Exhausted and freezing, they woke no less tired.
...They blinked for just a moment, and something flickered beyond the dim light. It closed in instantly.
An enormous swarm of grub monsters. They poured from both sides of the passage simultaneously.
————!!!
"Monsteeers—!!"
The moment they appeared, the two watchmen on either side shouted almost in unison—but the horde moved faster than anticipated.
The monsters overwhelmed them before the group could fully ready,
and the scene turned to pandemonium in seconds.