Chapter 193
Chapter 193
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 193
Chapter Title: The Saintess's Ordeal
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It wasn't a powerful electric shock.
Just a brief moment long enough to make someone flinch was all it took.
Ramin sidestepped Juran and charged straight ahead, locking his arm around the fang agent's neck before twisting with all his strength. With a sharp crack, the agent crumpled to the ground.
Aganin stared at the two of them in utter bewilderment.
"What in the world..."
Ramin snatched the gun from the agent's hand and unbuckled the ammo pouch and knife sheath.
Ramin walked over to Juran and said,
"Magic? If you had something that good, you should've told me sooner."
Juran tapped her horn and replied,
"I told you there was a spirit here."
Ramin had never once thought Juran resembled Hwikyung, but in that instant, their faces seemed to overlap.
'The shape of their eyes is kinda similar.'
Hwikyung handed Ramin the ammo pouch and revolver, then turned to Aganin.
"It'd be great if we could meet that saintess right away. Think we can manage it?"
Ramin first hid the body, then slipped out of the laborers' barracks with Juran and Aganin.
According to Aganin, the saintess in question never came above ground. She was kept under constant guard by the security force in the central camp deep within the labor mine.
"So sneaking in is tough?"
"Not necessarily. Night shifts for the labor crews run even at night, so we can blend in with them. The problem is..."
"The problem is?"
"This is as far as I'll guide you. Even if that really was a fang agent, someone's dead now, so it'll be discovered soon. Or maybe even right now back at the barracks..."
Ramin snorted derisively.
"You think you'll be fine if you head back now?"
"Hm..."
"Better to say we threatened you into guiding us, no?"
Aganin sighed and reluctantly agreed with Ramin.
They had to descend wooden stairs built along the sheer vertical shaft of the mine.
The shaft was wide enough that, beyond the railing of the outer wooden stairs, there were four pulleys connecting the upper and lower levels.
Descending the vertical shaft, Aganin ran into not just security but overseers as well, but he brushed them off each time—claiming he was supervising night shift reinforcements or escorting technicians for repairs.
Aganin said,
"Doesn't seem like the fang agents have caught on yet. Things would be way more chaotic if they had."
"Isn't that a good thing?"
"No. They'll start searching eventually, blocking our escape. No matter how skilled you two are, how do you plan to slip past all those guards?"
Ramin had no answer for that now either.
'Maybe Yacheon wouldn't mind if I just died here.'
Possibly.
But this was the quagmire Ramin had chosen himself.
Turning back wasn't an option anymore.
It was practically suicide, but Ramin wasn't all that rattled by it.
He'd known something like this might happen.
'Maybe I was even hoping for it.'
Ramin considered his life pretty wretched.
Even after a painful childhood, the only good times were the brief periods meeting Hwikyung or his master.
Otherwise, he'd lived as a monster that belonged nowhere—then came to the southern continent as an outlaw, rampaging freely.
To survive the world's pressures, he hadn't had room to think about anything complicated.
Then one day, the world changed abruptly.
The Empire accepted vampires, turning them into beings that didn't need to harm others to live.
The Empire shoved Ramin—who lacked social graces and was little more than a beast—into a higher education institution.
Without the constant struggle for survival, Ramin gained some leisure.
Leisure makes a person reflective.
Such reflection was foreign to Ramin, but that leisure let him do things he'd never tried before.
Regret.
With all that time he'd spent just surviving now reclaimed, and learning moral standards suited to life in a great city, Ramin had to look back on several lifetimes' worth compared to others.
'If this is the end, then I have to accept it.'
Ramin saw this journey as possible atonement for his sins.
'But...'
The vertical shaft ended, leading into a horizontal tunnel.
Ramin glanced at Juran's back as she led the way.
'There are innocents here too.'
When Juran turned around, Ramin flinched, thinking she'd sensed his gaze—but no.
Juran said,
"She's close. Right there, just ahead."
Aganin said,
"The central camp is a bit further..."
Before Aganin could finish, noise echoed from ahead.
The sound of pickaxes.
It came from one of the branching passages.
"This tunnel should have a night shift crew."
Juran said,
"She's here. Let's go."
As Aganin opened his mouth to protest, Ramin cut in.
"Go back if you want."
Aganin hesitated before saying,
"...No, we've come this far. I'll keep guiding you."
The three pressed against the tunnel wall and advanced.
Aganin, leading, turned back and extinguished his oil lamp.
Then silently gestured.
The three hid behind a low pile of rocks and peered ahead into the passage.
"Useless scum."
A kobold spat the words.
This rat-like race gripped a short horsewhip in one hand, venting his irritation at the group of laborers before him.
"Can't go on anymore? Who are you to decide that?"
One laborer dropped to his knees and said,
"But foreman, it's been half a day since the relief shift was supposed to arrive. We've been at it over a full day."
"The big shots have their reasons, don't they? Doesn't change the fact that today's quota has to be met. And here you are, slacking off?"
"We're not slacking. We haven't even had food, let alone water. Of course we're collapsing."
Behind that laborer lay three others, passed out.
"Shut it."
The kobold foreman drew his pistol and pressed it to the laborer's head.
"Can't you just pull that mine cart from down the decline?"
"But there's too few of us..."
"Fine. You do the work. The useless ones need clearing out."
As the kobold approached the fallen laborers, the others couldn't dare approach him—or back away.
Then someone approached from the far end of the passage.
A human woman.
Her rags were no different from the other laborers', but they formed proper clothes—a loose priestess robe common for the role.
Yet a leather collar encircled her neck, with two chains attached like leashes. One person led her by them, while armed guards trailed behind, watching her.
Her face was veiled in cloth, but before Juran could speak, Ramin knew exactly who she was.
Thanks to the horns on her head.
"...Hwikyung."
Hwikyung spoke through dry lips.
"I'll help you."
The kobold froze at her words.
One laborer said,
"No, Saintess. Even if you help, the cart's stuck right before the incline..."
"I'll push from behind."
"From behind? No. If we're too weak, the cart'll roll back. Too dangerous."
As the laborer protested again, the kobold cracked his whip in the air.
"Shut your trap. She's offering help—what right do you have to refuse? Hey, monster. You sure you can do it?"
"Yes."
"Then do it."
Ramin was dumbfounded.
There were eight laborers, only five still mobile.
Yet six guards surrounded Hwikyung alone.
If they truly needed to haul the cart up, the kobold should've ordered the guards—not the laborers.
But the guards released the chains as Hwikyung headed down toward the cart.
Hwikyung descended with a clanking rattle, the able-bodied laborers following.
The massive mine cart—tall as a person—sat stalled at the base of a roughly 30-degree incline.
Ramin was shocked to see no engine attached.
They mined resources for the Union Kingdom, but every element ultimately served as punishment.
Hwikyung silently placed her hands on it, and the laborers pulled the ropes connected to the cart.
It barely budged at first, then inched upward only after near-screams of effort. Ramin heard Hwikyung draw a deep breath.
Grunts, groans, and the slow scrape of the cart on the rails continued.
Halfway up, the kobold whipped at the laborers.
"Slacking again?"
One laborer's foot slipped, and he fell.
It was precarious enough that it could've happened anytime.
The cart, barely holding, slowly rolled back.
But worse happened.
"Saintess!"
Ramin clicked his tongue.
A concerned laborer had dashed behind the cart.
But Hwikyung was already pulling free from behind it.
The laborer, unaware, was about to be crushed.
But it didn't happen.
Instead of escaping, Hwikyung wedged her foot between the wheel and rail.
A quiet squelch—flesh and bone grinding between metal.
Hwikyung swallowed a groan and took a deep breath.
"Heavens, Saintess..."
"What are you waiting for? Pull!"
The fallen laborer—and even Hwikyung with her foot pinned—pushed the cart again.
The kobold sneered at the foolish act.
As Juran could no longer hold back and lunged forward, Ramin grabbed her shoulder.
Ramin lightly tapped his chest, drew a semicircle with his hand, then pointed his index finger at the kobold. A signal: he'd flank and attack; move on his cue. Juran nodded.
Thankfully, clearing the steep part, the cart crested the incline.
Hwikyung limped up, leaning on the wall, then bent over, flipped her veil, and vomited.
"Idiot. Sticking your foot in for something so trivial?"
Hwikyung spat once and readjusted her veil.
"Everyone, don't be swayed by such words. The Patron knows all our suffering... We'll all be rewarded."
She walked on, limping but no longer needing the wall.
The laborers whispered among themselves, staring at her foot.
Hwikyung's foot—shattered bone, torn ligaments—was already healing. The mending flesh visible beneath the ripped skin.
The kobold overseer called after her back,
"You really clueless, or just pretending? If that Patron of yours is so great, why just watch you suffer? Why not pull you out of here?"
Hwikyung stopped dead.
"Because the Patron wishes us to receive our punishment."
"Hilarious. A god who wants punishment for believers. Makes me wanna see it again after all this time."
Hwikyung stood silent.
The nearby guards didn't restrain the kobold; they just gossiped and glared at her.
The kobold said,
"Last time, I saw you come back even with half your neck sliced. Always wondered—how do you kill something like you? What if a bullet hits your skull? Wanna find out?"
"That's..."
"Didn't you say your god wants punishment anyway?"
The kobold aimed his pistol at Hwikyung's head.