Chapter 108
Chapter 108
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 108
Chapter Title: Nymph Cultist and Pluto's Underground Labyrinth #6
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Clack, clack, jolt.
A fairly spacious enclosed carriage raced across the wide plains. The roads weren't well-maintained, so it was only natural for the bumps and jolts to make one's rear ache.
But today, the carriage we rode in boasted a pretty comfortable ride. We'd rented a luxury carriage that cost 10 silver just to head to the vicinity of Kalan Swamp.
It had windows like the kind nobles rode in with their personal coachmen, and the seats were plush with cushions stuffed under leather padding, making them quite tolerable. It was also less nauseating.
Still, 10 silver wasn't cheap by any means. Even splitting it among five people came out to 2 silver each.
On top of that, the cultist—no, the convert Paranoya—was flat broke without a single coin, so as party leader, I had to cover his share.
That meant 4 silver gone before we even arrived, and including Luna's portion, a total of 6 silver vanished.
6 silver.
Shit, 6 silver was easily equivalent to about 600,000 won, right?
Thinking about losing that much money right from the start on transportation fees really stung. If we'd just gone with a basic cart with a luggage compartment, five of us could've gotten by for a few coppers per person.
Sure, our butts would've hurt and our bodies jostled all over the place, but that's just how low-rank adventurers scrimped and saved to get by.
But Belmina, the mage who'd soaked up a fair bit of ink at the magic academy Ivory Tower, apparently didn't see it that way.
"I'm not setting one foot outside the city without a roof and plush sofas."
When she said that, us ordinary folk had no choice but to accommodate the mage's whims!
As I'd mentioned before, mages were premium talent.
Their wondrous magical abilities were hugely helpful in Pluto's Labyrinth, so parties treated them like VIPs, nobles competing to recruit them.
Especially if they could wield elemental attacks like water, fire, lightning, or ice—their popularity was off the charts, demand higher than goddesses in male-dominated engineering departments!
That's why mages tended to be haughty and prideful.
Showered with respect everywhere without criticism, their self-esteem soared, and they developed a spoiled sense of narcissism. But mages got a pass for it anyway.
Honestly, magic was insanely powerful and amazing.
I wished I could learn some Shit magic myself.
But to enroll in Karintos Magic Academy, you needed recommendation letters and paid registration fees in gold coins every season?
No way I could afford that.
So what about the treatment for warriors like me, Hassan, who couldn't learn magic due to poverty and had to make do with our bodies...?
"Didier, when we get out of the carriage, carry my luggage, please."
"Hmph, even if you know a bit of magic, who do you think you're treating like a porter?"
"You don't want to?"
"Truth is, carrying luggage is my favorite thing! I'll gladly do it, as much as you want."
We got treated like all-purpose errand boys who had to handle anything physical.
Of course, I'd heard that truly elite warriors who could manifest something called aura got treated like battle mages.
But from my outsider perspective, spewing sword beams with a blade or hurling fireballs from your hands both sounded like utter nonsense.
I just figured this world had all sorts of amazing things. Come to think of it, the divine blessing I'd received was pretty rare and powerful too.
Magic, aura, and blessings.
Having just one of those three meant you wouldn't starve. Or having some bizarre skill like that pink-haired voodoo priestess Luna.
"Huuuh..."
"Hold still."
Luna was scooping up the sweat dripping from Paranoya's forehead into her leather waterskin.
Our eyes met as the terrified, trembling Paranoya shook— I couldn't help but ask Luna casually.
"Luna, what are you doing?"
"Collecting nymph sweat...!"
"Okay, I can see that. But what for?"
"Nymphs have no waste at all...! Their bodily fluids can make potions that boost mana sensitivity."
"I see."
I had no real grasp of what a mana sensitivity potion was, so my reaction was just a genuine "I see."
Even though I was supposedly Jupiter's descendant, the wilderness hunter with that long string of titles, terms like karma and mana still felt alien to me. When would I ever get used to them?
As I pondered that, Belmina—who'd been sitting in the corner, staring out the window with a prim expression—seemed intrigued and spoke up.
"A potion that boosts mana sensitivity?"
"Yeah, yeah, more like an elixir, really. Nymph body parts make great ingredients all around."
"I've heard that wands made from nymph finger bones fetch high prices."
Then, with a smooth motion, the ice mage Belmina peered into Paranoya's palm. Her pale blue eyes gleamed like Luna's when appraising herbs.
The look of an ingredient appraiser.
I suddenly had a vague sense of why nymph numbers had dwindled on this continent like some endangered species.
I'd thought they got pushed out by invasive elves in survival competition. Nope, just overhunted because they're "good for you."
As the son of a pharmacy, I felt a weird mix of feelings about these versatile nymphs. Pharmacies were the first to jump on health fad rumors, after all.
But Belmina's gaze shifted from Paranoya's palm back to the changing scenery outside.
"But that's just rumors. Mana sensitivity isn't something you gain that easily. Only one in ten can sense mana. And of those, only one in ten can wield it—"
"And of those, only one in ten can shape it into useful spells, right? Even I've heard that one, me."
Didier, sitting beside me, jumped in like he knew something—probably itching from sitting still too long.
It'd take at least a full day to reach the Kalan Swamp region where the labyrinth lay.
As party leader, I preferred this chatter over awkward silence.
"You look like you live on sawdust, but you know a thing or two, Didier. Then you must know I'm a woman of great fortune, having passed that 1-in-10 hurdle three times."
It always ended in mage bragging. As I thought that, Belmina—eyes half-lidded at the view outside—added a bit more.
"But it wasn't just luck. Mana sensitivity is like a muscle. It doesn't grow without effort."
"Hmm." Like a muscle.
At her words, I pictured the sky-blue-haired woman training to wield magic.
But my magic knowledge was limited to Hogwarts and Gryffindor. The Shit magic school headmaster being gay—still shocking.
I couldn't really visualize magic training, but I vaguely got that mages earned their status through bloody hard work, not just coasting.
Maybe the lofty pride of famed mages came from confidence in their efforts not being in vain?
Nothing easy in this world, huh.
Just as the conversation seemed to wrap up, Luna—who'd collected all of Paranoya's forehead sweat—capped her waterskin and tossed in a line.
"But with mana elixirs, boosting sensitivity gets way easier!"
"No such thing exists."
"I-It does! Back in Ideophe, everyone boosts their sensitivity with mana elixirs..."
Luna held her ground against the sharp ice mage. Had her rising level and contributions boosted her confidence?
"Eek... C-Can't... breathe..."
But Paranoya, sandwiched between them, just trembled wordlessly—looking pretty pitiful. As I debated intervening...
Belmina turned from the window, meeting Luna's eyes.
"Ah, Ideophe. I've read about the superstitious island of Ideophe in Ivory Tower research tomes. Still peddling snake oil as miracle cures? That's what the books say."
"...Snake oil works great!"
"Too bad, Ivory Tower's already proven it has zero mana effects. Ideophe's mana research lags Ivory Tower by about two centuries."
"T-Two centuries?"
"Well, it's an archipelago of isolated islands, so I get why info's slow. But facts are facts. Magic is real science, not superstition."
Magic as real science, not superstition. Hearing that from me, it sounded kinda funny.
On Earth, saying that would've gotten pitying looks. But from an actual mage, it carried weight.
"Ugh, ugh..."
Luna fought hard but lost this round.
She looked ready to burst with arguments she couldn't organize, face flushing red.
I watched tensely for her comeback. How would she counterattack? But surprisingly, Luna swallowed her words, pulling out a needle and handkerchief from her bosom.
Rustle, rustle, crumple.
Calming her agitated mind with embroidery?
Swish, swish.
No—Luna was pricking her finger with the needle and writing Belmina's name on the handkerchief in blood!!
Writing a name in red? Isn't that a curse?
She finished the curse, tucked the handkerchief away smugly.
Belmina just looked baffled. And with that, their mana debate ended.
* * *
The carriage fell into heavy silence, and I was starting to feel awkward.
"Party leader bro, check this out. Man, the fields and flowers are gorgeous, huh?"
Dwarf axe warrior Didier—who'd been eyeing the women like me—gazed out the left window, waxing poetic.
A bearded brute who chugged beer crates and seemed ready to chew grass roots raw, appreciating scenery?
Shattered a bit of my dwarf preconceptions.
And he was right—the view outside was vast plains dotted with vibrant white and yellow flowers.
"Real pretty. Could pick those petals, grind 'em for tea. Or garnish a pudding of milk and eggs—sew patterns on top. Perfect."
"Is that so."
He rambled on about his dessert recipes after, but honestly, none of it registered.
My eyes were glued to the endless stream of petals outside.
A few weeks ago, this place was a foggy swamp hellhole crawling with alligators and goblins.
How could that sodden land dry up completely in mere weeks and bloom into these beautiful flowers and fields? Seemed like real magic.
"Anyway, 'Kalan Swamp' is old news now. They say before Ceres's curse, this land bloomed with flowers like this."
As Didier finished explaining...
"C-Core's playground."
Paranoya—who'd been cowering between Luna and the ice mage—spoke up first.
The cultist I'd pegged as uncooperative was volunteering info, which surprised me enough to ask.
"What playground?"
"Ceres's daughter, Kore. Th-This was once the spring maiden Kore's playground. Until Ceres's curse turned it into a swamp one day."
"A goddess's curse. The Long Winter thirty years ago. Easy to find in research books."
Surprisingly, the ice mage Belmina backed her up. I tensed, wondering what icy remark she'd drop next.
"The endless winter spurred ice magic research. Consensus was the snow would never melt, the land stay mired—no flowers again."
Belmina's clear sky-blue eyes reflected the vibrant colors. Something odd flickered amid them.
"But this eternal swamp dried up completely from someone's prayer blessed by the Sun God, they say. I didn't believe it. Seeing it now... truly, transcendent power defies logic and reason..."
A prayer blessed by the Sun God. I knew zilch about mana or magic, but that jogged my memory.
That ridiculous makeshift altar, chanting "Sun forever!" The arrow piercing clouds and fog from the sky, drying the whole area.
Who'd have thought flowers would bloom too?
The dwarf warrior, smiling at the view, added more.
"Sun God? I heard it was Ceres's champion warrior. Light God could dry the muck, sure—but blooming pretty flowers like this? That's Ceres's domain."
"Indeed. Maybe a champion blessed by both Light and Harvest Gods. Heh, of course not. Even Gold-tier heroes rarely get blessings from two gods in one body."
"What if."
I couldn't stay silent.
"What if such a person existed? What then?"
"Who knows. I'd love to meet them. A champion loved by the gods? Or a temple slave hated and cursed? Speaking of, barbarian. You got a blessing from some god too... "
Fwee—crack!
As Belmina started addressing me, a sharp blade whistled from somewhere, embedding razor-close to her head.
"An-arrow!?"
Neigh—!
The two horses whinnied and bucked wildly.
The coachman up front yelled desperately.
"Damn it, b-bandits! Milords, bandits!"
Bandits.
Bandits, of all things.
Riding a fancy carriage like this—we'd painted a target on ourselves, shit.
"Goddamn, warrior work to do. Everyone, grab your gear!"