Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: The Silent Village
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A few days after receiving Elderlake as a gift from Connie, Bolton finished preparations for the merchant caravan heading to the White Tower.
And on the day of departure.
Jeon arrived at Bolton's merchant house right on time and expressed surprise at the scale of the assembled caravan.
"Whoa, it's bigger than I expected."
"There are quite a few stops along the way, so it ended up growing quite large as we put it together."
The scale of this caravan was markedly different from before.
When Jeon had traveled from Brea to what was now Haswell, the entire caravan had consisted of just two ordinary-sized wagons.
This time, there were over five wagons larger than those, plus a carriage prepared for the key personnel's transport.
Naturally, the number of people had increased substantially as well.
Unlike the sparse group back then, it now bustled like a proper merchant caravan.
'No wonder the investment jumped tenfold.'
It was a moment when Jeon realized anew just how smart his investment had been.
In fact, on top of his existing investment, Jeon had poured in an additional five million credits this time—including the money he'd left at the bank before and the earnings from his interpreter work.
This was most of Jeon's personal wealth, excluding the travel funds from Alexar.
'It still feels like it's at rock bottom.'
Though it had already grown a lot compared to before.
In Jeon's eyes, Bolton's merchant group still had plenty of room to expand.
It had established itself well in Haswell, but it hadn't ventured outside yet.
If it succeeded in branching out, there was room for several-fold growth.
Just successfully opening trade at the White Tower this time would be a major stepping stone.
"Shall we get going, then?"
"Ah, sure."
With everything already prepared, Jeon boarded the carriage under Bolton's guidance.
Bolton had arranged it out of consideration, since Jeon still didn't know how to ride a horse.
'I really should learn to ride someday.'
He couldn't keep relying on carriages every time he went somewhere.
Especially if he ever needed to travel alone—knowing how to ride would make movement far more convenient.
It was like getting a driver's license in his previous life.
Anyway.
Once Bolton joined Jeon in the carriage, it set off immediately.
As Jeon gazed at the passing scenery through the window, old memories surfaced.
"Makes me nostalgic all of a sudden."
"You too, Jeon? I was just thinking the same thing."
The memories of meeting Bolton in Brea Village and traveling together were among Jeon's fondest.
The ride hadn't been as smooth as this carriage, but he'd been able to relax on the wagons, and their chats had been enjoyable whenever boredom struck.
"Looking back, meeting you back then was a stroke of luck."
"Haha, I never expected to meet someone like you in Brea either."
"Brea... It's been a while since I heard that name."
"Come to think of it, you haven't been back since, have you?"
"Huh... Yeah, I guess not."
Brea held intense memories for Jeon.
It was the first village he'd entered after leaving the exploration team, and the place where he'd lived as a full member of the community, not a slave.
That said, it wasn't a place overflowing with fond memories he yearned to revisit.
Life there had been harsh, and it brought back unpleasant thoughts of Jefferson above all.
"I did stop by Brea once or twice before the merchant group grew this big."
"Oh, really?"
Still, there were people he'd grown attached to during his time there.
So when the topic came up, curiosity was inevitable.
"How's everyone doing?"
"Eh, same as always."
Bolton downplayed it but shared the changes he'd seen in the village.
The villagers had asked about Jeon when he visited, they'd sent a young man to a nearby village to train as a new hunter, Rina had fallen for a local youth and gotten married.
"Sounds like they're doing alright."
Hearing news of them after so long felt like catching up on old classmates from school days he'd lost touch with.
It brought that same sense of relief—glad to hear they're all well.
"There was one person who missed you especially."
"Me?"
He could understand people asking after his well-being.
But someone pining for him? Even Rina, who he'd seen the most, was married now.
No one who fit the bill came to mind.
"Yes. The village chief said to tell you he'd hand over the chief position anytime you came back."
"Huh..."
"And if four people weren't enough, he'd squeeze in one or two more, so be sure to pass that on too..."
He hadn't expected the chief to cling so stubbornly.
Jeon shook his head at the man's tenacity.
"Haha, that was a few months ago, though. He's probably given up by now."
Bolton laughed at Jeon's reaction, assuring him it was fine.
Fair enough—a few months had passed since then, who knew what changes had come.
'Still, better steer clear of Brea for the foreseeable future.'
Not that he'd ever planned to return, but Jeon resolved to avoid even thinking about it.
Aside from chatting with Bolton in the carriage, Jeon spent the rest of the time immersed in his spellbook.
Especially the one on Midgal School artifact creation, which he'd revisited lately.
'Really takes me back.'
Even that overlapped with old memories, drawing a smirk from Jeon.
Not that he was deliberately choosing it for nostalgia.
'The black orb, Elderlake...'
With recent acquisitions like artifacts, he was reviewing it for any useful insights.
'Both could be game-changers if handled right.'
First, the black orb.
If tinkered with properly, it could serve as a detector for those the Ruin Church manipulated like Jack.
He hadn't fully grasped it yet, but he had the basic principle. Once ready, he'd overhaul it completely.
Elderlake was already a finished product, but Jeon was experimenting to see if it could integrate with a new artifact he planned to make.
'Combining it with runes might boost its performance even further.'
All this was possible because his magical prowess had advanced far beyond his manastone-making days.
"We'll reach tonight's village soon."
Time flew productively, and Bolton casually mentioned they were nearing the first stop.
"Already?"
Absorbed in the book, Jeon hadn't tracked the hours.
Peering out, he saw the sun setting, with a village silhouette in the distance.
"Pretty big village."
"It's called Quetta. Formed from several smaller ones merging, so it's the largest around here."
To Jeon, villages evoked Brea.
Aside from that, he'd stayed in places like Haswell or Silvermont territory—more towns than villages.
So Quetta sparked his curiosity.
But as they drew closer, curiosity turned to doubt.
"Is the village... usually this quiet?"
A caravan this size approaching normally drew crowds for gawking or village guards to greet them.
Yet not a soul was visible outside.
"It was always lively... Something must be wrong."
Bolton frowned—first time for him too—and halted the caravan before entering.
"Just in case, let's select a scout team of combat-ready personnel to check first."
Uncertain what had happened, Bolton formed a vanguard: himself, familiar with the locals and layout, plus a few armed men.
"Mind if I join?"
"You, Jeon?"
Jeon, watching, raised his hand to volunteer.
"Curious what happened."
More than curiosity drove him.
'I'm the strongest here anyway.'
There were hired mercenaries, but Jeon was the strongest solo fighter.
And for defense, his abilities were overwhelmingly superior.
'Better to protect them myself.'
In a crisis, he'd respond best.
Bolton was the head of his invested merchant group—easier to guard him personally.
Plus, he wasn't the type to wave off a friend heading into danger.
"If that's what you want... alright."
Bolton seemed to understand, nodding and reforming the team.
With Jeon, it slimmed down nicely.
Bolton, Jeon, and three veteran mercenaries—five total—approached cautiously.
"...Feels like the village is completely deserted."
No signs of life at all.
As if everyone had up and left.
Something serious had happened.
"Let's head straight to the village chief's place first."
Bolton sensed the abnormality and opted to check the chief directly rather than wander.
With a destination set, they picked up speed slightly.
The chief's house was central, so it was a trek from the outskirts.
And near the center...
"...Halt. Halt, I said."
A warning came from an alley, with multiple presences.
The team froze, looking toward the source.
"...Dillon?"
"...Bolton?"
The leaders recognized each other instantly.
"Dillon! We were looking for people! What the hell happened?"
"Bolton... You picked a bad time to show up."
But their gazes differed.
Bolton was glad to see Dillon; Dillon looked bitter and regretful.
"Bad time?"
"...Our village is isolated."
"Isolated?"
"Are you all the ones who came for the village?"
"No, the rest of the caravan is waiting a bit outside..."
"Damn it."
Dillon's face twisted further at Bolton's words.
"Could you explain what's happened to the village?"
Jeon stepped forward, sensing trouble from Dillon's expression and words like "bad time" and "isolated."
Dillon eyed Jeon briefly, bit his lip, then began.
"Goblins. Goblins attacked the village."
"...Goblins?"
The answer was unexpected.
Goblin raids weren't rare.
But something else was off.
"A village this size couldn't hold off goblins?"
Even smaller villages repelled them with preparation.
Quetta, with its militia and resident mercenaries, often hunted goblins for income.
Falling to mere goblins? Unbelievable.
Dillon knew the skepticism and nodded slowly.
"Not ordinary goblins."
"Hobgoblins maybe?"
Hobgoblins were strong as orcs, but even a few wouldn't overwhelm Quetta.
"No, not hobgoblins. Just one goblin mage using magic."
Goblin mage—rarer than hobgoblins, threatening, but one alone shouldn't devastate a mercenary-housing village.
Yet Dillon's next words shocked them.
"That single goblin mage wiped out the entire militia and all the mercenaries."
"...What?"
The village's entire fighting force, to one goblin mage?
Incredible.
Goblin mages were rated 2nd-3rd Circle at best—impressive for goblins, but not overwhelming.
Dillon's follow-up was even more stunning.
"That goblin mage held a staff in one hand... and what looked like a spellbook in the other."