An Honest Day's Work
Bebelhon.
The rhythmic clanging of iron echoed through the air like music.
In place of bards and painters, temporary smithies occupied the plazas, and every alleyway glowed with a sweltering heat.
Fully loaded carts constantly rolled in and out of the massive mines, followed closely by sweat-drenched miners.
Shops lining the streets displayed swords, shields, and suits of armor.
None of them looked amateurish.
The scent of iron and fire, ash and sweat, and alcohol hung heavy in the air.
The entire city felt rugged and heavy.
"...It's loud," Debi Jane muttered.
Yet, her eyes were busy taking in her surroundings.
She wasn't looking at the bustling workers, but at the shop stalls. She was clearly sizing up the gear.
This was Bebelhon.
A city that prospered around its massive mines—the city of iron and alcohol.
"Um, Roan," Erian Belgard tugged on Roan's sleeve.
"Hmm? What is it?"
"There are so many stalls and shops here."
"That's right. And you'll find high-quality goods wherever you go! Everyone here is a master craftsman."
"So, there's something I wanted to ask..."
Did he know which of these countless shops Cedric Rowell would visit?
For that matter, were they even sure they had arrived before Rowell?
Belgard looked anxious, worried they had made a pointless trip.
Roan clapped a hand onto her shoulder.
"Of course I don't! We'll just have to check them one by one!"
A brief silence fell over them.
"Roan, you really... seem to have a plan, yet absolutely no plan at all."
And then came the barrage of nagging.
The onslaught of undeniable logic battered Roan's eardrums until they felt ready to bleed.
But he couldn't argue. She was entirely right.
"If you're making decisions this carelessly without any other reason, then the supplies we need for our journey—"
"Wait, wait! Just a second! Hear me out first!"
Unable to endure any more, Roan cut Belgard off.
He was finally ready to reveal what he had been agonizing over during the entire trip here.
"I do have a reason! A reason other than recovering the sword!"
"...And what is that?"
"What, is it that 'destruction' you mentioned before we came? You kept dodging the question, but I guess you're finally going to tell us?"
Before he could even speak, Jane hit the nail on the head.
"Why do you have to be so quick-witted and smart?!"
"Is that an insult or a compliment? So, what is it? Do we have to fight some weirdos again?"
"Well, you see..."
Roan hesitated for a moment, then shook his head to steel his resolve.
Since they would find out eventually anyway, it was better to tell them now.
"—We're going to kill a hatchling hiding in the mine."
A dragon's offspring.
An incredibly weak creature that could neither fly nor defend itself.
Roan spoke of killing it without a shred of hesitation.
How would Jane and Belgard react to his words?
"Fine. Should we get that out of the way first?"
"...Taking a life is tragic, but... I suppose it can't be helped."
They agreed readily.
Roan was taken aback.
"Huh...? Really? I thought you guys would hate the idea."
"I mean, we don't love it. It's a hatchling... Don't nobles sometimes keep them as pets?"
They say if they truly bond, they even maintain a relationship after the dragon reaches adulthood.
That was why the two of them felt somewhat conflicted.
Reading their expressions, Roan shared his thoughts.
"To be honest, I'd prefer to handle this separately from you guys if possible. It might not even have hatched yet, or it could have come from somewhere else."
If the hatchling wasn't there, it would be a wild goose chase, and they might even lose track of Rowell in the process.
"So, I think it's best if we split up here. I'll go look for it, while you two keep an eye out for Rowell. What do you think?"
Roan asked for their input.
"...Works for me. I had something I needed to do anyway," Jane agreed first.
"I feel bad leaving the difficult task entirely to you, Roan... but if you wish to do this alone..."
Belgard nodded reluctantly.
And so, for the first time in a while, the three of them split up.
"It'll probably take some time before Rowell gets here. He doesn't take the roads; he cuts through forests and crosses rivers."
"...So we have some time. What now? Are you heading straight to the mine?"
"We'll rest today and start tomorrow. We've had a long journey, so we should take it easy today."
"Good."
Jane pointed toward a tavern.
Even though it was still daytime, the boisterous laughter of heavily intoxicated patrons spilled out.
"I heard Bebelhon's alcohol is legendary."
She clearly wanted to try the local specialty.
...
"May I say something first?"
"Don't."
"Drinking excessively is not only bad for your health, but it will also affect your condition tomorrow—"
"Ah! Stop nagging!"
Jane covered her ears.
Yet, Belgard's nagging pierced right through her fingers.
"Why? I quite like this."
To Roan, this familiar, everyday bickering was more precious than anything.
Once we stop all the apocalypses, won't we have many more moments like this to sit and talk?
"Like it? You don't even drink."
"I don't drink! I can't let it interfere with tomorrow's work!"
"That is an excellent attitude. However, it is also necessary to relieve the fatigue accumulated in your body and mind, so being too restrictive—"
Even when he didn't drink, the nagging still came his way.
Even so, the atmosphere grew warm and lively.
"So..."
Jane gave Roan a half-lidded, squinty look.
She had already emptied four large wooden mugs of alcohol.
"What do you like?"
"My comrades!"
"Not that, you dummy!"
Roan felt unjustly accused.
"I mean gear! Do you like flashy, shiny stuff, or do you prefer plain, ordinary things?!"
"Ah, gear? Hmm... I prefer things that don't stand out too much. If it's too flashy, it'll hurt your eyes."
"Plain, not flashy! Got it!"
Jane looked incredibly pleased.
She probably didn't even know what she was saying anymore, but Roan didn't mind. Sometimes, moments like this were nice.
"So..."
In contrast, Belgard had only had a single small cup.
Ever the disciplined one, she turned to Roan.
"You are going into the mine, correct?"
"Yes. The sooner we handle this, the better."
"I see... It won't be easy. The laborers here work day and night, every single day."
"True. But if I time it right, it'll be fine."
"In that case... how about we scout it together around dawn? We can see when the mine is least crowded. That way, it'll be easier for you to sneak in."
"Huh?"
Roan blinked, as if he had misheard.
"Wait... weren't you planning to sneak in and investigate?"
"Nope."
"Then how..."
"Alright! Roll call!"
"Yes, sir! Eleven for the morning shift! Plus one rookie!"
"A rookie? What's his name?"
"Sir! Del Roan!"
Just like that.
There was no need to take unnecessary risks by sneaking in.
He could just investigate while working.
Del Roan's cleverness allowed him to earn money while achieving his goal.
"...You, rookie. Can you actually work? You look pretty scrawny to me."
But in the mines of Bebelhon, they valued brawn over brains.
Can you use magic? Have you ever done this kind of work before?
After a rather lengthy interrogation, the foreman delivered his verdict.
"...He seems like a complete novice, so you guys show him the ropes."
A greenhorn who didn't fit into Bebelhon, where speed was everything.
Thud!
"Ugh."
And the hazing that welcomed the newcomer was rather harsh.
"Rookie. You know what it takes to survive as a miner in Bebelhon, right? You've gotta be tough."
"Exactly, exactly. You never know when or where the mine might collapse. Bwahaha!"
Miners with bristly, thorn-like beards chuckled as they gathered their tools.
"Grab your gear and follow us. Not that you'll have much use for tools, though."
"...Huh? Why is that?"
"What do you mean 'why,' kid? A rookie doesn't get to swing a pickaxe. You're on water duty."
Water duty.
It meant running back and forth to fetch water and do odd jobs.
Ah! To think that I, who stood at the precipice of the world's destruction, would be treated like this!
"Yes! Understood!"
But this was actually better.
It gave him the freedom to move around.
Clap! Clap! Clap!
With three sharp claps, everyone filed into the mine.
It was time to work.
...
An endless vein of ore that never seemed to deplete, no matter how much they dug.
Even if one enjoyed the work, seeing the same sight every day was bound to get tedious.
But today was different.
Their daily quota was shrinking at an astonishing rate.
"...What in the world is that?" someone muttered.
No one answered.
Crash!!
They were utterly transfixed by Roan's pickaxe swings.
Slam!!
With a single strike, the ore vein shrieked.
Chunks of ore leaped from the rock face as if eager to reveal themselves.
Yet, he didn't touch the mine's structural supports.
With near-superhuman control, he was excavating the vein while perfectly preventing any risk of a cave-in.
Clatter! Clatter!
Fragments of rock tumbled down, striking a massive object.
A colossal water barrel.
It was the massive barrel containing their entire day's water supply.
He had hauled the entire thing by himself.
"Pure talent..." someone whispered.
No one disagreed.
Every single one of them was convinced that he was 'a man born to be a miner.'
Del Roan.
Day one on the job.
He had completely crushed the spirits of the veteran miners.
"There!"
The pickaxe that had been shattering the rock face just moments ago was set down.
The miners flinched in unison at the sound.
"This should be enough, right? I think we can take a break now."
It was an incredibly bold suggestion for a first-day rookie.
"Uh... yeah, sure! Why not? Let's do that."
"Over here! Come rest! You did amazing, kid!"
But no one was in a position to refuse.
"Then, do you mind if I look around the mine for a bit? I'll stay close."
Even when he asked to wander off alone!
With the veterans' blessing, Roan began to explore the depths of the mine.
He searched through the fully excavated zones, as well as the undeveloped sectors where not a single lantern hung.
Relying on his night vision and tactile senses, Roan swept through the darkness.
Before long, he spotted something glittering in the pitch-black void.
Squeak?
"...It really is here."
When it came to these matters, Roan's instincts were truly second to none.