Kneeling Demonkin (10)
"What's up? Got something to say?"
He'd guided us all the way here without issue, only to trail off like that mid-sentence. There had to be something on his mind. If this really was the Asenaris habitat, he'd just drop us off and leave—no need for extra chit-chat. He wasn't about to bid us farewell here, either... And if he just wanted a ride back to the city afterward, he wouldn't have started with that weird preamble.
'The truth is...' That phrase meant one simple thing: The situation wasn't what I thought it was.
"Looks like my suspicions were spot on, old timer."
"Right you are. Just as you guessed. That's no Asenaris habitat."
Pelle flinched beside me and craned her neck to glance back at the old man seated behind me. Talking like this side-by-side in the saddle felt awkward, so I dismounted the Hell Horse. Sinking knee-deep into the snow, I faced the cave entrance and asked,
"So what is it, then? Let me guess—troll nest?"
"That's right..."
I felt no shock or rage at the betrayal—like getting clocked from behind. I hadn't fully trusted that guild leader anyway. He was surely behind the attempts on my life at the inn and temple. Still, I'd followed his suggestion and let the old man guide us here for two reasons.
First, a slim chance he'd come clean out of fear after I threatened to torch the temple and town—hoping I'd really leave them be. Second, confidence that I controlled the situation. I had the Hell Horse for quick trips between the mines and Apenzel, plus enough firepower to level the city before lunch. The effort to go back and forth was negligible.
If the guild leader was telling the truth, I'd snag an Asenaris. If not, I'd return and kill him. No loss either way. Worst case, no gain—but no downside. That was my calculus.
"I see."
My calm reaction seemed to surprise the old man a bit.
"You... you already knew?"
"Didn't fully buy what that guild leader was selling. But..." I paused, looking up at him. "Why the sudden full disclosure, old timer?"
"Couldn't bear to watch you two get duped and die innocently."
"Thanks. Appreciate it. Though your words carry a bite. Sounds less like concern for us and more like hatred for that guild leader."
The old man hesitated, lips pursing inward—his toothless mouth wrinkling.
"You know there's no administrator in this city. That bastard invented the 'acting administrator' title and parked himself in it."
"I know. And that the real one died in an 'accident.'"
"Wasn't an accident. He killed him."
"Gasp...!"
Pelle sucked in a sharp breath in shock. But I stayed unfazed. The citizens' attitudes toward us, the powerless guard captain—it had all pointed there. When that guild leader then popped up claiming the acting role, only an idiot wouldn't suspect foul play.
"In a mining town full of laborers dependent on the mines, the mining guild leader wields power like a god—enough to strike down birds in flight. No way he'd get along with an administrator. But Apenzel's a direct royal territory, not a fiefdom."
"Probably pissed off the guild leader by cracking down on discipline."
"Exactly... That man's a lunatic. The craziest of the Grayhounds."
The old man proceeded to list the guild leader's atrocities. Embezzling city funds was baseline. He'd summon newlywed brides on their wedding night to deflower them, shove the unwanted outside the stockade with just a single dagger when trolls attacked, marry underage girls and swap them out upon adulthood... Pelle's face twisted in disgust at that part, looking ready to storm back and tear him apart.
"What a fucking piece of shit. No one's that vile. So why's he still breathing? Sounds like half the town wants him dead."
"True. But who'd defy the emperor within these walls? Only horrific retaliation awaits... My own son..."
The old man trailed off. Pelle and I waited silently for him to compose himself.
"He took my granddaughter, and my son—eyes blazing with rage—grabbed a pickaxe and went after him... Got into a brawl with the guard captain protecting him and..."
"That guard captain—you mean the current one?"
"Yeah... That scum. He's been in the guild leader's pocket since arriving."
That fucker was trash too... I'd assumed he was just bowing to the guild leader's power out of necessity.
"So why'd the guild leader assign you—someone with a grudge—as our guide?"
"Two reasons. First, thought my family left in the city would keep my mouth shut. Second, figured after you two got troll fodder, I'd be stranded here alone—unable to return."
"In other words... grudge for your son standing up to him. Planned to let you freeze here after we died. Unreal."
"Told you—he's the maddest of the mad. Probably parading himself as some hero who saved the city from demons by now."
Clichéd villains straight out of a traveling troupe's play or bard's ballad existed right here. Not some righteous rebel dreaming of utopia against the world's ills, nor an overwhelming force reveling in destruction. Just petty tyrants wielding scraps of human power over the weak.
The type I hated most—and loved most. Loved, because I could crush them guilt-free.
Everything clear now. Time to head back and pass sentence.
"Sorry... Let me apologize on the city's behalf. Things weren't this bad before he took over as guild leader... In eighty years in Apenzel, the last few have been the worst."
"Not your fault, old timer. Let's head back. I'll give you a ride to the city."
As I moved to mount the Hell Horse, the old man grabbed my wrist.
"I'll... guide you to the real Asenaris habitat."
Pelle and I both stared at him.
"You know where they are?"
"Told you—no one knows these parts like I do. Eighty years mining in Apenzel."
"Why tell us now?"
"Give you what you want, and grant my request in return."
"Request, huh... I can guess."
Probably the guild leader's death. Maybe the guard captain too. I was planning that anyway—now with Asenaris as a bonus. Things were working out better than expected.
Of course, no guarantee this old man wasn't lying too. But like with the guild leader, I held the power to control it. Even if duped, no loss—I could force the situation my way. The guild leader hadn't realized that, boldly wagering his life because he assumed trolls would kill me in that cave.
"Word is you fought off multiple foes without breaking a sweat. As an outsider, you could just kill the guild leader and guard captain, then bolt."
Desperate not to be refused over the risk, he clutched my sleeve with both hands, pleading.
"Fine. Lead the way. I'll see the Asenaris with my own eyes, then decide."
"Thank you...! Thank you! Right away!"
As we mounted, Pelle leaned back slightly against me and whispered,
"Can we trust him...?"
"If Asenaris are there, great. If not, guild leader and guard captain still die. Just whether the old man joins them or not."
"I see..."
Pelle nodded and leaned her back lightly against my chest. I draped my cloak over her generously and urged the Hell Horse forward.
The real Asenaris habitat the old man described wasn't far from the troll nest. An abandoned mine, untouched by humans for ages—now home to a colony.
As we dismounted, he cautioned us repeatedly.
"Same everywhere around here, but some shafts connect near troll caves. Be careful."
He stressed it multiple times—probably worried I'd think he'd double-crossed us if trolls showed.
"Don't worry. Wait here. This horse only moves for me."
"Got it. No plans to run. Couldn't make it back alone anyway."
He kept reassuring me, fearing even a hint of doubt.
"Pelle. Cast the Preservation Ritual on the bag. Keep any Asenaris chill from leaking out."
Prepped, we grabbed lanterns and entered the abandoned mine.
The abandoned mine was pitch-black and eerie. Not just the northern chill or lack of human touch—it exuded a bone-deep cold from within. Should've been warmer inside than the windy outdoors, but it grew icier with every step.
No drafts leaking in, either. The lantern flames burned steady, unruffled.
"Ugh... Why's it so damn cold?"
"Feels like real Asenaris territory."
"You ever seen one?"
"No. They're ultra-rare. Hoo..."
Pelle hugged herself, breath fogging as her lips quivered. I hunched my neck and quickened my pace too. Grab a few quick and bail. Lingering meant frostbite. Even the snow outside felt warmer. Plus, I'd given her one glove—my right hand was numb.
"Got a question."
After a bit, Pelle huffed breath and asked,
"Bringing back Asenaris—for the inn, or the black mage?"
"Huh? Why?"
"Curious. What's worth all this hassle?"
"Eh...? Just bonuses. Started 'cause Idi complained about the heat. But summer's coming. Cool inn draws crowds, right?"
"So... multiple reasons. Got it."
She clammed up. What was that about...?
Pressing deeper by faint lantern light. Only our footsteps and Pelle's shivery sighs behind me.
"Old man didn't double-cross us, right?"
"How likely? He knows he can't trek back alone. If we die, he does too."
"Maybe he looks old but is spry..."
"Didn't know you joked. Healthy adult male couldn't make it."
"Or someone's coming from town to pick him up..."
"Then we go back and smash everyth— Shh!"
I froze at a sound. Pelle halted, holding her breath. Listening close, faint whispers emanated from the lantern's unreachable darkness.
What the hell... is that noise...?
Even I'd never heard anything like it in all my battles.