To a Distant Land (5)
“Ha. I was hoping to settle this quietly, if at all possible…”
Fierce White Wind declared that this was no place to talk and led us back inside. The cluster of mages who had originally hired me came along as well.
They were dragged in without ever receiving a proper explanation. They hadn’t been given a single word of speaking rights, but since they weren’t volunteering any of their own, I figured that was fine.
“Before we begin—everything I’m about to say is classified. Make sure word of this never spreads. Understood?”
More than that, I was still stuck on the fact that I’d been hauled in without getting to wash. Ugh. I felt grimy.
I picked bits of bark and grass out of my hair and tried to focus. The moment she called it classified, this was never going to be an ordinary job.
“For the record, this stays secret from your party—especially from the priestess.”
Secret even from the Inquisitor?
I stopped raking my stiff hair with my fingers and looked at White Wind. The woman who usually wore a bright—or outright unhinged—smile now looked cold and severe, and that made her seem especially serious.
“I’ll compensate you handsomely for the nondisclosure, so we’re clear, right?”
My concept doesn’t revolve purely around money, but…
“You assume I’ll simply accept that.”
If it was legal, and if they were offering payment, and if I had nothing better to do, I was usually inclined to take the job.
But something secret even from my own party members was another matter. With the Archmage present it probably wasn’t illegal, yet it still sat wrong.
And without a quest window, the request itself wouldn’t even be clearly logged.
“Ten million gal. That ought to buy your silence, don’t you think?”
“…You think I’m for sale?”
“No reason you wouldn’t be. Don’t be so stiff. Finish the job and I’ll throw in more.”
Still, it was far too much money to refuse.
I thought of the sum I’d named back in Zakrati and made a complicated face.
Strictly speaking, the ten million gal there had been the price on Bipurit’s head alone; the fee for driving out the demons had been separate—and I’d refused part of that—so it wasn’t as though they’d underpaid me or that this was wildly excessive…
More importantly, what exactly did they want me to do? Even a Magic Tower flush with cash wouldn’t drop ten million gal on something trivial. That meant the job was important…
What in the world turns a snake-catching request into a ten-million-gal contract?? Did I just walk into something terrible??
“Anyway, we’re settled, right? Good. Then let’s talk properly.”
While I was thrashing through that internal debate, Fierce White Wind laid out the situation.
“Those plants you saw? They’re our fault. We created them by accident!”
A bombshell right out of the gate.
“The building’s gotten old, I guess, so a little mana was leaking out and it messed with the local ecosystem or whatever. Water’s denser than air, so the mana didn’t scatter and just sat there—that probably didn’t help either. Oh, and I have no idea why the snakes are swarming. Ahaha.”
The statements that followed drew even stronger reactions from the others. Their faces flushed scarlet as they stammered wordlessly.
If the speaker hadn’t been a Great Sage, someone might have started shouting complaints on the spot.
“So.”
Separately: once again, the Magic Tower had caused an incident!
Even White Wind claimed ignorance about the snakes, so maybe that part really wasn’t connected… but the plants? That was definitely their screw-up. They’d deliberately gone soft on explaining the snake problem just to cover this up.
My mage friend had no business lecturing the temple or the Adventurers’ Guild, then.
I let my disgust show. White Wind didn’t seem to notice—or care.
“The root cause is the aging building, so repairs would fix it… but to repair the Tower we have to clear the plants first! And if we send our own people to do it, the magic would be way too conspicuous.”
Instead she clapped her hands with cheerful energy and announced:
“So I want to leave that job to you. I’d prefer the temple and the Adventurers’ Guild never hear a word of this. If word got out… well, you know how it is.”
That explained why I couldn’t tell the Inquisitor—and why she’d been so careful not to explain the snakes. In the end they just wanted this cleaned up behind everyone’s backs. Honestly. At this rate the ten million gal was less a reward and more hush money.
I put on a theatrical scowl at the sudden prospect of becoming a professional weed-whacker.
“…You think I’d take on something this trivial.”
“Yep, yep! I know. A petty little chore like this isn’t worth your time. That’s why I offered so much money!”
As if she’d expected exactly that reaction, Fierce White Wind crooked a finger. A mannequin standing in the corner of the reception room stirred.
Creak. Creak.
Clunk.
The mannequin—or was it a marionette?—clanked across the floor and opened a drawer. What it pulled out was an extremely ornate case.
A little too wide and low to be practical storage, maybe.
“Or how about this instead?”
Correction: it was storage. For a necklace, specifically.
“A subspace necklace I made myself! Three cubic meters! Sell it and you’d easily clear ten million gal—I can call it even with this!”
A subspace necklace? Oh. Inventory expansion. I was not saying no to that.
“Are you certain you can simply give that away?”
“Ahaha. Compared to the Magic Tower being treated like traitors in this city, this is nothing.”
“Hmm.”
“That’s also why you agreed to keep it secret from the Hero, isn’t it?”
While the people around us gaped, I took the necklace from White Wind.
The octagonal chain almost looked snakelike; up close it was packed with tiny, millet-grain lettering. Overall the design was crude.
It was silver, so it wouldn’t clash with me too badly… still. Why a necklace? Bandages around my neck were already enough.
“Doesn’t matter if you wear it like a bracelet on your arm, around your neck, or on your ankle—as long as it touches your skin. To store something, just touch it and think ‘put it in.’ To take something out, make sure there’s enough room and think ‘take it out.’”
Good—I wouldn’t have to put it around my neck. Arm or ankle would do. I looked back at Fierce White Wind.
“It won’t work if someone else’s skin is touching it, so keep that in mind! It also burns a little of your mana. Not that you care—you’ve got plenty! And finally, there’s no security lock, so anyone who meets the conditions can use it. Do not lose it. That’s all the warnings!”
So—would I take the job?
White Wind’s clear voice looked down at me. Even though she was shorter while I was seated, it somehow felt that way.
“…Tsk. Define the scope of the request clearly.”
Still. Who turns down inventory expansion?
“Ah, right. A proper contract is best. Can you read?”
“I can.”
“Mm-hmm, good, good. That makes this quick.”
White Wind had the marionette bring pen and paper. Her writing speed was terrifying; blank space filled in moments.
Basic contract terms, special confidentiality clauses, the oath transferring the necklace, the work I was to perform—everything packed the page densely.
Thanks to that, even without a quest window I at least knew exactly what I had to do…
“Check it!”
The problem was that I didn’t really know contracts.
I’d signed a few publishing deals with a lawyer’s help, but this world was completely different.
This was why Adventurers’ Guilds existed. Feeling that need keenly, I signed more or less on faith.
No obvious poison clauses jumped out, and everything that needed to be there seemed present. Looking longer would only waste time.
Besides, the Archmage was right there—surely they wouldn’t try to scam me? People usually get burned thinking that, but still.
“I’ve checked it.”
Ha. Straight into the quest, then. She wasn’t taking the necklace back, so it was basically an advance. Once I’d taken payment, I had to work.
I rolled up the second copy of the contract and stuffed it into the bag at my waist.
“Oh, you’re going right away?”
“I have no intention of dragging out a trivial job.”
“Haha. I really did pick the right person.”
Ah. That was why she hadn’t given me time to wash—she knew I’d be going back in anyway. Somehow that made me feel more annoyed.
“All right, the rest of you go help him! I originally meant to keep you out of it, but since you already know, it can’t be helped. Having a ready-made excuse isn’t bad either.”
Still, I was better off than these people, who weren’t even getting compensation for all their earlier suffering. I offered them silent, half-hearted sympathy and walked outside.
The sun had not yet set.
Splash!
No—by then the sun had set.
“Ah, you’ve come up!”
“A-aren’t you cold?”
“We bought food for you!”
I only surfaced after clearing roughly a third of the lakebed.
The contract hadn’t required me to remove every last plant—only the ones covering the buildings—but that area alone was nearly half the site, which was how this had happened.
The sun was completely gone; the moon had climbed past the crown of my head. An entire day had vanished in an instant.
“First, a blanket…”
I was one thing, but you people had it rough too.
I hauled myself fully onto the bridge, thinking of the mages who had waited here like fixtures the whole time I was down there.
One of them, apparently mindful of my chilled body, dashed over with a blanket.
“Not necessary.”
Thanks to the heat packs I didn’t feel particularly cold. I refused the blanket and inspected the food they offered. A field of meat.
“….”
“Sh-should we go buy something else?”
…No. I didn’t have an allergy, and I wasn’t so rotten that I’d complain about a meal someone had thoughtfully bought for me.
Besides, after skipping lunch and dinner while cutting weeds underwater, my sense of fullness was scraping absolute bottom.
The real reason I’d come up was that the anti-diving-sickness medicine had worn off, plus I simply couldn’t ignore the hunger anymore. No time to wait around; I’d just stuff it in.
I chewed and swallowed with mechanical efficiency.
Somewhere in the middle I wondered what my people were doing. Had they even noticed I was gone?
The Archmage had probably given a good explanation.
Dev had likely been stuck trailing after the Berserker and was suffering for it; the Inquisitor was almost certainly lost in skill practice. I hoped they were at least eating properly.
As for the Berserker… that one looked like the type who would feed himself just fine without anyone’s help, so he was probably all right.
“Would you like more?”
I was nearly finished, still running through random thoughts, when the mage who had first hired me asked carefully.
I shook my head at once. Any more and I’d make myself sick.
“If that’s really enough for you…”
Ah—was it okay to go straight back into the water after eating? It should be fine. I’d eaten slowly enough that I’d rested a good twenty minutes.
“Y-you’re going right back in?”
Of course I was. My fatigue was still well within limits.
Plus the contract required me to stay as inconspicuous as possible.
Doing this in daylight probably wouldn’t have been a huge problem the way things were going… but night was still better. And I was almost finished anyway.
So I took only the medicine and dove straight back in.
The mages stuck waiting for me until I finished looked pitiful, but I ignored them. I had never told them to stay.
Splash!
The cold midnight lake water wrapped around my body.
“Eh!”
Right after one of them had submerged without the slightest consideration for the others, one of the remaining mages let out a scream.
“Wh-what!?”
“Is something wrong!?”
The others panicked, thinking it was serious. The first screamer turned his head with a creak and looked at his colleagues.
“I forgot to give him the temperature-regulation stone… I-it’s been hours since the last one ran out.”
“…You absolute maniac! Of all the things to forget!!”
“Hwaaak!!”
It wasn’t a major problem.
Meanwhile, the person receiving the full force of the mages’ worry reached the bottom in a single dive. The depth—maybe thirty meters—combined with the pitch black of night and floating debris to create the impression of a snowstorm falling in the dark.
I landed in a patch I had already cleared and surveyed what remained. The main building was left.
Glub.
Breathing through the underwater apparatus, I walked slowly along the outer wall. When I met the uncut plants again, I dropped low and swung a sword whose blade was about forty centimeters long.
Chamgyeok shot forward roughly two meters. The plants inside that radius were neatly severed as a bonus.
Bubble.
Afterward I stepped into the remaining stalks, now cut down only to knee height.
Their vitality was stubborn; even like that they tangled around my legs. Nothing I couldn’t handle.
When I reached the center of the cleared zone, I took something out of my inventory. It looked like a pill—a poison made specifically for these plants.
Apparently it interacted with mana and acted as a toxin against anything that had been transformed by mana… The reason they’d still asked me despite having this was simple.
It only worked if you buried it so it touched the roots. The problem was that the mages couldn’t cut a path the way I could—and even if they did, it would make a racket.
For the record, when I casually asked whether they’d considered improving the formula, they said that would take too long. They had been rushing to make a version that worked when dissolved in water, but in the meantime they were terrified of being caught by the temple or the guild.
So the moment I arrived they had dumped the job on me. With me, the current version was already enough.
Not that any of that mattered much. The moment I received the inventory expansion, I was fully satisfied.
Thud.
Anyway, I drove the pill into the ground. A section of the plants coating the outer wall immediately began to wither.
The radius was a little larger than what I had cut.
Some waste, sure, but I had plenty of pills left.
I congratulated myself on a decent job of eyeballing the cuts and repeated the process.
And when I finally reached the heart of the main building—
“…?”
Hidden among the plants I found something purple… grotesque… almost like a nest. What is this?