Chapter 110
Chapter 110
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 110
Chapter Title: Nymph Cultist and Pluto's Underground Labyrinth
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The bandits, having lost their will to fight, were subdued in an instant.
Truth be told, the individual skills of bandits as a breed weren't all that impressive.
If they had any real talent as warriors, they wouldn't be scraping by as thieves—they'd have found some more respectable line of work.
From what I'd heard, most of these lowlifes were gutter trash who couldn't even scrape together the 20 silvers for guild membership fees, and that's what dragged them down this rotten path.
20 silvers.
Sure, that's a hefty sum—twenty silver coins—but for anyone who's not a slave, it's money you could save up in a year if you actually put in the effort.
Guys who won't lift a finger and just scheme to fleece others aren't going to be powerhouses.
Of course, the named fugitives with kingdom-wide bounties on their heads might be a different story. In any case, these jokers were way weaker than their bold entrance suggested. They were nobodies.
Ding-.
『Jord lv. 7
Status: Night Blindness》Hay Fever》Callused Palms》』
The bandit leader, Double-Sword Jord, was barely level 7.
The rest of the survivors, after a quick pulse check, clocked in around levels 3 to 4, maybe 5 at best—your standard iron-tier adventurers, nothing special.
Excluding the two who'd gotten skewered through the nape by icicles at the start, we captured the remaining eight and bound them together in one spot.
Squeeze, squish.
“G-Gently, please! I got this condition where tight ropes hurt!”
“Then recite a tteokbaggi acrostic poem. Start with 'tteok.' I'll tie you loose if you do it right.”
“Tteok... tteok!”
“Eat shit with a flower pot, you punk! Who asked you to do that?”
I swung my club down hard on the head of the whiny thief begging for gentle treatment.
“Gahk!”
With that scream, the grumbling from the local broadcasts cut off in a flash.
“Good, now it's quiet at last. These bastards sure run their mouths a lot.”
Anyway, having eight thieves kneeling in one place gave off a decent sense of intimidation. Even low levels pack a punch when they're bunched up.
No matter how great a hero you are, a blade to the body will kill you. Get surrounded and beaten by a mob, and you're done.
So I pondered how best to deal with this bandit crew.
“These guys are vile and brutish scum. We should execute the lot of them!”
The ice mage Belmina gnashed her teeth, insisting we kill all the bound thieves.
She was still fuming from the earlier threat to drag her off to the cave and make her a slave crafting ice. Even setting that aside, she'd been merciless toward the bandits.
She was the one who'd pierced the first two necks clean through. No hesitation in taking lives. Was it because she wielded ice magic—cold as frost?
“What do you think, Didier?”
“Chop their heads clean off in one go. Even I get nightmares from half-dead screams.”
Shing.
Didier hefted his massive double-bladed axe. No doubt a swing from that beast would slice through a neck like soft tofu.
“Executing prisoners is the party leader's prerogative. Here's my axe—your club won't cut it for beheadings, so I'll lend it special-like.”
Didier seemed in full agreement with Belmina that these thieves needed executing.
In a world where human rights and the sanctity of life sound like madman ravings, bandits' lives are no more than squashing bloodsucking mosquitoes.
Still, as a modern guy, I couldn't help questioning if I had the right to take their lives so lightly.
“Luna, what's your take?”
“Me? I...”
Luna's emerald eyes swept over the thieves. Something flickered in them—emotions I couldn't quite read.
“I'll leave it to Hassan's choice.”
“Hmm.”
Looks like the decision fell to me after all.
Shing.
I took the double-bladed axe from Didier and slung it over my shoulder. The trembling thieves flinched harder at the sight. They must sense their doom.
I addressed them.
“You've committed crimes. First, robbery. Second, assault. Third, Sberl—who knows what that is, but you've got a ton I wouldn't even know about.”
“...”
The thieves fell silent.
The air grew heavy, everyone hanging on my next words.
“But I'll forgive you all.”
“I-Is that for real?”
“But this axe says no forgiveness.”
So, half and half.
We'll leave them neither dead nor alive.
* * *
The loot from the thieves: seven longswords and about 5 silvers. The rest was junk, so we dumped it in the field.
We'd leave the seven longswords for Dwarf Didier to handle later. For now, we split the 5 silvers—one each among the five of us.
Didier loaded the swords into the wagon's cargo hold like a trunk and remarked,
“Nothing racks up karma like killing. That's why party leaders get execution rights as compensation for the headaches.”
“I see.”
“But turning it down? Can't wrap my head around that. From a Samaritan warrior's view, were they not worth the kill? Clumsy for bandits, sure.”
“...”
Instead of answering, I recalled what just happened. Belmina's rapid freeze on the humans.
We shoved them into the deep pit the golem had dug.
They'd thaw once Luna's summoned guards tossed them in a cell.
Didier griped about wasting karma, but honestly, killing these thieves gained me zilch.
I rack up karma—Karma, that is—not from killing, but from massages lifting weird quirks, curses, and status ailments.
And beheading eight in one go? That'd haunt my dreams.
“...Chaos Eternal.”
Ding-.
『Name: Hassan Lv. 17
Strength: 7
Agility: 4
Vitality: 6
Karma: 42 -> 182
Grace: Blessing of Chaos》Shining Hands》Cloak of Night》』
Before freezing them, I'd quickly pressed their palms to spike my Karma Value plenty. I got what I came for.
As I mulled in satisfaction, Didier shut the cargo hold and added,
“Frankly, I don't see what extended lives let those thieves do beyond rotting in a cell, wasting time and food. Truth be told, you're a bust as a warrior.”
“I suppose so.”
His harsh assessment? Whatever. I'd never hyped myself as some great warrior.
Others just built preconceptions from my looks—praising or bashing on their own.
“But as a person? I like you. Hesitation-free killers make fine comrades, but lousy friends.”
“So does that make you and me friends, Didier?”
“Aren't we all friends since sharing this wagon? Anyway, cargo's loaded. Ready to roll.”
We left the eight half-buried ice blocks behind and hit the road again.
The bandit detour cost us half a day, so I told the coachman to whip the horses harder.
Smack.
With a light crack of the reins, the pair of horses snorted into motion. Soon, the flower-strewn Kalan Plains glowed with sunset.
Snore. Snorrr.
Didier's thunderous snoring filled the noisy wagon.
Everyone had burned energy in the fight, so they dozed off, arms crossed.
I seized the quiet to recharge my stamina. Just as I settled into the hush,
Ice mage Belmina, polishing her tiny wand with a handkerchief, spoke softly.
“Shadow Bind curse, was it?”
Luna, gazing out the window, jolted at her shoulder.
“Y-Yeah, why?”
“Not as instant as my freeze spell, but damn effective at restraining movement.”
“I-It’s advanced ritual only healers can pull off. Got lucky, I guess.”
“Healer, huh. Ideophe's rituals have their uses after all.”
“Y-Your magic was no slouch either. Pierced two necks in a blink...”
“Of course.”
And with that, the women's chat wrapped up short. Mutual respect warming the air?
If this harmonious vibe held, it'd help for the looming labyrinth raid.
* *
We halted the wagon late evening to rest the weary horses and camped. The site: the ruined temple from the last cultist purge.
Back then, gloomy mists and swamps made it a horror movie set—terrifying.
Now, flowers and tall reeds swayed under moonlight, picturesque and charming.
“Goddess Ceres's temple. Long abandoned. Tsk. Breaks a Ceres follower's heart like this. Party leader, mind if I tidy up?”
“Go for it. Gotta level the ground for camp anyway.”
With group approval, we set to work prepping the site.
I cleared rocks and leveled the earth. Dwarf warrior Didier wiped bird shit off the goddess statue with a cloth.
Rustle. Swish.
Gecko. Gecko! Gek. Gek. Gek. Garragekgek.
“Whoa, moonlight lizard...! Shh! There!”
Luna spotted a weird blue-glowing lizard in the dark brush and dashed off.
She sucked at pitching tents anyway, so no surprise.
“A soft sofa gets old fast. Hard rock's comfy enough.”
Nearby, ice mage Belmina lounged on a flat boulder for rest. Paranoya warmed herself by the just-lit campfire.
I pitched a tent on the smoothed ground with poles and ropes, then called everyone.
“Time to boil water.”
After tents up and noisy obstacles cleared, we unpacked, circled the fire, and set a pot bubbling.
As the brass pot boiled greens, mushrooms, and meat chunks into a savory stew, Dwarf Didier shyly pulled something from his bosom.
“Ahem. Uh, hmm.”
Like he had words to say but waited for a prompt.
I bit the bait.
“What's that?”
“This? Ah—magic powder. Sprinkle it, and any dish tastes killer. I made it. Wanna try? No pressure.”
He explained eagerly, but magic powder? Sketchy as hell.
I dabbed a finger in the pouch, tasted it—salty, with an indescribably artificial tang exploding on my tongue.
Like the essence of flavor. MSG vibes. Who knew this world's dwarves cooked up umami magic dust?
“Tastes good.”
“Y-Yeah? Ground rock salt, crab shells, dried ray powder—hours of work. Perfect for soups.”
I'd figured dwarves were stubborn types, but they weren't just smiths and stonemasons—some delved into cuisine too.
Thanks to Didier, we enjoyed a field hotpot way better than average.
“Tasty for outdoor grub.”
Even the picky ice mage downed two bowls.
Warm bellies, toasty fire, spring evening breeze—sleep tugged at us.
As tensions eased, we tinkered with gear and swapped light chatter.
What drove us to adventuring, future plans—simple aspirations.
It made these awkward folks feel almost like comrades.
“Anyway, 5 more gold, and I'll open a decent eatery by the south gate. Got recipes ready too.”
Didier boasted. Listening ice mage Belmina chimed in.
“A dwarf-run restaurant? Hard to picture. Forge or carpentry, maybe.”
“Everyone says that. That's why it'll boom—unique, see?”
“Hmm.”
“If mismatched careers bother you, same for you, mage lady.”
“Me?”
“Your ice magic's top-tier. Could snag a court mage gig in a small kingdom. Why roll with mercenaries?”
I'd wondered the same.
Not Elfriede's chantless fire power, but Belmina ranked high among mages I'd seen.
Her Karma Value around 15? Battle mages add 10, so level 25 equivalent.
Level 25s don't tangle with roadside bandits.
But Belmina just smiled like it was a fun tale.
“Nothing exciting. Better hear our nymph's story. Decided to serve hearth goddess Vesta, right? Time to kill—wanna check her fire altar?”
“Fire altar?”
Luna, petting her blue lizard, jumped up at 'fire altar.'
“Love fire altars! Night's boring anyway—perfect!”
Her enthusiasm forced a question.
"What's a fire altar?"
“First time for you, eh, party leader. Good timing with the mage here—we might find your element match.”
Element match? News to me.