Chapter 36
Chapter 36
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Inspector Lich's Duties
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Orc warrior Skol led the dungeon known as the "Red Head Tribe."
As befitting a chieftain who commanded his tribe, he possessed a sharp mind that never dulled.
Because of that, he even hosted gatherings as a channel for sharing information with the masters of nearby dungeons.
But this gathering was different.
"Chwiik?"
It was an existence he'd never seen before.
She boasted an astonishing appearance.
And that wasn't all.
The aura radiating from her was no joke to begin with.
Had there ever been anyone like this among those who'd attended past gatherings?
No matter how much he thought about it, absolutely not.
"Uh..."
Right then, Skol dropped to his knees before her, signaling his surrender.
Even as a chieftain and warrior who led a dungeon, he felt no shame or humiliation in kneeling.
Such emotions only arose between equals, but the being before him was overwhelmingly superior.
A being on an entirely different level from himself.
The world was one of the survival of the fittest, after all.
That was why Skol chose submission—and sometimes, such swift decisions led to great outcomes.
And the result of his choice?
"I am Skol, the chieftain who shall rule over you all. Chwiik."
It was a resounding success.
First, the number of subordinates under him had exploded.
With orcs from other dungeons joining his ranks, their numbers were far from insignificant.
The one regrettable part was taking in goblins as subordinates too.
'To live in the same dungeon as an inferior race...'
He wasn't without complaints, but he wasn't foolish enough to voice them.
This was the will of his new ruler.
Acting against it would be tantamount to rebellion.
Thus, Skol embraced them under his wing as well.
The silver lining was that the dungeon had grown vastly larger than before.
Large enough to separate living spaces for the orcs and goblins, at least.
In truth, the dungeon's expansion came as a fresh shock to Skol.
'The ability to freely alter a dungeon's size. Chwiik.'
He'd never heard or seen of such a power.
With that kind of ability, no one would need to expend money, labor, and time to painstakingly expand a dungeon.
'She's even more incredible than I thought.'
And that was just the beginning.
From what he'd heard, the one he'd surrendered to—Lady Celia—was merely a servant of the Master.
How extraordinary must the ruler called Master be?
Skol couldn't even begin to fathom it.
At the same time, as a warrior, he felt anticipation.
Snapping out of his reverie, Skol refocused on the task at hand, determined to give it his all.
His new ruler had personally granted him a position, after all.
Margrave.
He didn't know the exact meaning.
But from what he'd heard, it was an honorable warrior role: guarding the dungeon's safety as a vanguard and clashing with enemies when needed.
He liked it.
The ruler had acknowledged him as a true warrior.
Of course, the appointment didn't end there.
Skeletons appeared from somewhere and handed out equipment to them.
High-quality gear, every piece.
"Clack-clack-clack-" (This is the Master's mercy.)
The lich leading the skeletons said.
"Clack-clack-" (Do well, get better gear.)
Items from the new ruler.
And promises of greater rewards for good performance.
Skol thought to himself.
The ruler hadn't merely given him equipment.
For a warrior, a weapon befitting his station was his lifeblood.
Now, he could charge at enemies without a care—that was the glory of a warrior, the pinnacle of honor.
And she had bestowed such equipment upon him.
With the firm promise of even better gear for results.
The new ruler wasn't one who dominated through brute strength alone.
She understood the virtues of a warrior.
She knew honor and glory.
"Krrgh. Chwiik."
Skol teared up with emotion.
A ruler who could draw tears from a warrior...
He had to follow her, no question.
Skol swore eternal loyalty, vowing to crush anyone who dared harm his ruler.
As Skol basked in this stirring sense of accomplishment while establishing the dungeon’s command structure…
"Chieftain! Intruders have appeared. Chwiik."
A subordinate from the original "Red Head Tribe" came running, shouting.
Perfect timing.
He'd been eager to prove his loyalty to the ruler with results.
Skol rose from his seat.
He raised the hand gripping his weapon high.
"Hear me, all of you!"
All eyes turned to Skol.
"Granted the title of Margrave by our ruler for my valor as a warrior, chwiik. As chieftain of the Red Head Tribe, chwiik. I shall never forgive these treacherous fools who dare invade our ruler's domain, chwiik. Follow me! Chwiik!"
The time had come to show the might of Skol!
"Wooooaaarrr!"
The orcs roared in unison.
At that moment, it didn't matter which dungeon they hailed from.
The blood of warriors boiled in all of them.
Even the goblins, caught up in the fervor, shouted and cheered.
Everyone grabbed their weapons and followed Skol out of the dungeon.
They'd make the intruders regret ever setting foot here.
An armed group entered the foothills of the mountains.
"Captain, do we really have to go into the dungeons? We're not adventurers—we've only seen battlefields."
They were mercenaries.
One of them spoke to the man at the lead.
The leader halted and turned back.
"Dungeons or battlefields, it's all the same. Every moment, you stake your life."
The captain of the Red Fang Mercenary Corps.
Beren Bloodworth spoke curtly to his men.
Dungeons were no different from battlefields.
"Don't worry. If adventurers can do it, so can we."
Fundamentally, mercenaries and adventurers did different work.
They operated in entirely different spheres.
Unlike adventurers who took on dungeon subjugations and various quests, mercenaries roamed only battlefields.
They valued material rewards over honor, venturing into perilous wars accordingly.
Thus, Beren believed this:
Mercenaries who braved battlefields with their lives were greater than adventurers who did menial tasks.
So there was no reason they couldn't handle a dungeon subjugation that adventurers could.
Moreover, wars between nations had quieted lately.
Occasional skirmishes in imperial or royal territories didn't pay enough.
That's why Beren decided to subjugate dungeons like adventurers to make money.
Monster corpses fetched good prices, and some had even found treasures in cleared dungeons—that's what brought him to these mountains.
"And they said there's only one dungeon around here to watch out for."
To be precise, he had a connection in the Sail Kingdom's adventurer guild.
The man said to just avoid the recently upgraded silver-rank dungeon.
The rest were pushovers.
Of course, it cost some gold, but he got valuable info too.
'The guild can't bother with us—they're busy with church matters.'
They'd just raid a dungeon quick and slip away.
"Check your gear, everyone!"
Beren shouted to his mercenaries.
From here on, it was a battlefield.
Prepare thoroughly and advance.
'Something's off.'
How far had they climbed?
Beren Bloodworth, leader of the Red Fang Mercenary Corps, sensed something wrong.
'No dungeons anywhere.'
He'd secretly bribed the guild for a map marked with dungeon locations.
Yet the spots on the map had no dungeons.
'That guild bastard.'
Not a single one matched.
He'd checked over ten marked sites so far, but none existed.
Complete bust.
No way so many dungeons had been cleared in such a short time.
Even if they were, there'd be adventurer parties around—but he hadn't encountered any.
Beren could only conclude he'd been scammed.
'You son of a bitch.'
Took his gold and stabbed him in the back?
Beren decided to head down immediately and confront the guild.
He'd collect his due.
For double-crossers, mercenaries demanded more than payback.
That was their code.
As he rallied his men to descend...
Clack-clack-
Clack-clack-
A strange sound echoed from somewhere.
Like bones rattling together.
"Hold."
Beren raised a hushed hand.
Clack-clack-
In the silence, the sound grew louder.
"C-Captain!"
Someone cried out in alarm.
Looking where he pointed...
Clack-clack-
Clack-clack-clack-
An overwhelming number of skeletons had surrounded them.
"Battle stations!"
The silver lining: just skeletons.
Skeletons were monsters even newbie adventurers could handle.
Beren didn't fear defeat.
At his order, a mercenary charged a skeleton, yelling.
But the result...
Boom-
The skeleton exploded, taking the mercenary's life.
"......"
Silence fell once more.
Exploding skeletons?
To these ignorant men who knew nothing of adventurers or dungeons, the situation made no sense.
All they grasped was: don't approach those skeletons.
Fearing the blasts, the mercenaries huddled closer in the center.
"......"
Beren scanned the surroundings with a heavy heart.
No escape routes left.
The skeletons encircled them completely.
'What the hell.'
They showed no intent to move.
Small mercy, at least.
That was when...
"Chwiik!"
Another sound came from elsewhere.
"Lich, sir! You are truly a warrior! To yield us this prey like this! Chwiik!"
Orcs appeared in Beren's view.
"What in the...!"
Orcs and skeletons?
An incomprehensible alliance.
The skeletons even parted to let the orcs in while maintaining the encirclement.
"Chwiik! I shall show my power to the Master!"
Skol, the orc chieftain and newly titled Margrave warrior.
He thrust his weapon skyward and bellowed.
The lich nodded at Skol's display.
Then it produced paper and a quill.
A nearby skeleton held up an ink bottle.
Tools for recording.
The lich remembered.
Lady Celia's instructions, as the chief administrator managing the dungeon in the Master's stead, handling diplomacy, enforcing discipline, and maintaining order:
'As you patrol the dungeons, record evaluations of everyone without omission. We'll use them for future personnel reviews. Mr. Lich.'
The lich strove to fulfill Celia's command.
That was Inspector Lich's duty.