Chapter 101

Translator: penny

Chapter: 101

Chapter Title: Static

Dungeon Day 3.

The Count and the Noble Slayer crossed paths at home.

Now, only two remained.

The PTSD Knight was dead.

The Half-Ogre was dead.

The Black Mage was dead.

The Noble Slayer's expression was grim.

And why wouldn't it be? The situation had gone straight to hell.

"Let's go."

"Where to."

"While you were asleep yesterday, I kept watch ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠around the area and gathered some info from the villagers."

The Count explained about the generator.

If they solved the noise issue and fuel problem, they could probably get the elevator running.

Of course, it might all be a bluff.

So, they should scout around while gathering fuel.

"We need to split up to investigate. We've lost so many people. There are probably more monstrosities than yesterday, and there are all sorts of things to watch out for, but the longer we drag this out, the worse it'll get."

"Count."

The Noble Slayer asked.

"There are four more zones like this ahead, right?"

The Count nodded.

"Why don't we just call it quits here?"

"You serious?"

"Yeah."

The Noble Slayer's resolve had crumbled.

"......"

It wasn't hard to understand.

Passion needs fuel to burn.

Tell a wingless man to fly, and he'll either laugh in your face or tell you to fuck off.

"Let's just stay here."

"You can be with your dead little brother, and you can be with your late wife. Hell, in a dungeon this bizarre, maybe the souls of the dead really do come back here."

"Yeah. I know. I came in here knowing full well how dangerous it is. I was prepared to die like the others, just like you..."

"But... deep down, I thought maybe I'd be different."

"Because you have to board the elevator alone. Don't go outside. Honestly, the method is dead simple when you look at it. Nothing hard about it. Hell, maybe even a preschooler could do it."

"I figured they all died from stupid mistakes, from letting their guard down."

"I'll admit it... That was my arrogance."

"This place is fly hell."

"A fly hell that wafts a sweet scent to starved flies like us... tempts them in... and devours them whole..."

"I know it's a coward's talk."

"I know it's shitty to the guys who died first."

"But what can you do about fear."

"I don't want to die."

"Ah, yeah. Let me correct that."

"We'll die anyway if we do nothing."

"But at least I don't want to get skewered by those monster freaks and have my brains eaten out."

.

.

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Fear was etched on the Noble Slayer's face.

Yeah.

We're human.

And humans fear death.

Death comes in degrees.

Drowning happy in this village beats getting ripped apart by monstrosities any day.

He told the Count that the anemone was just a fake anomaly.

He'd met his brother too, he'd said.

Maybe what he told the Count was just to steady his own shaking heart.

Not words for anyone else.

"You really gonna stay here?"

"I want to."

"You wanna leave but can't, so you wanna stay in the village?"

The Noble Slayer fell silent.

The Count waited patiently until he spoke.

"Hey, Count. You might not care, but can I tell you my story for a bit?"

The Count nodded.

He set down his pen and paper, as if to say he'd listen as long as needed.

"My brother and I were slaves."

"Noble playthings."

"Nobles from Northland like you."

"Yeah, you can probably guess."

"That noble was a real sadist who loved torture. I endured it, as you can see, but my brother... he couldn't."

"My little brother died with his body and soul shattered by that noble."

"That night, I strangled the bastard and killed him. In return, I became a wanted man."

That tracks.

No one kills without reason, unless they're some freak case.

Slaves killing nobles is rare.

As expected, heavy stuff.

"Revenge was done, but life felt empty."

"Brother dead... status criminal... all I had left was a healthy body."

"Didn't know what to do..."

"I've just been surviving ever since. Not dying."

"Boring, joyless life."

"That's all."

The Count blinked.

He figured he wasn't good at comforting people.

They weren't close enough anyway. He just listened quietly.

"The reason I came here..."

"I wanted to use magic stones to pardon my crimes..."

"Get lucky, maybe even a title..."

"Magic stones are that valuable..."

"Thought it might fill this emptiness."

"A normal life is what I've always dreamed of."

"But now I can't even take it out..."

The Count shook his head.

He disagreed.

He'd escape this village no matter what.

Conquer the remaining zones and grab those magic stones.

But.

The Noble Slayer thought ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠differently.

He'd already given up on his goal.

"Outside is too cold and lonely."

"Living alone, sleeping alone, suffering alone—I'm sick of it."

"Doing shitty jobs that don't suit me, always worrying about getting dragged off by sheriffs for execution—done with that."

"Here, there's a comfy bed, my dead brother, plenty of satisfying food every day. No more fear. So... even if it's fake, I don't care..."

"So, Count."

"You don't have to give me your escape scroll."

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.

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"Got it."

It's his choice.

Count Wolfhaufen decided to respect it.

Ahead lay only death.

He had no desire to judge someone seeking peace.

This wasn't domination by an anomaly.

It was the Noble Slayer's true heart speaking.

He didn't pull out the escape scroll.

The Count walked away slowly.

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.

.

Now, only the Count remained.

The Black Mage and PTSD Knight died in the eastern forest.

Unlike the Knight, no specific cause for the Black Mage's death.

No telltale alarm-like sign.

The guy was cautious.

He'd hear sounds, burn stocks setting traps.

Not 100% sure.

Probably got careless and entered a monstrosity's range.

Or made some dumb noise.

Unlikely.

He'd said ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he only spotted the trap visually.

Didn't go deep.

The Count thought maybe "Don't enter the eastern forest" was another village rule.

'Eastern forest is dangerous. Avoid it best we can.'

Too bad the blueprints went with the Black Mage.

Wait, no guarantee there was only one.

Might be spares.

'Said he found it in the warehouse.'

The Count rummaged through the warehouse.

Luckily, found another blueprint.

'South's done. Confirmed no fuel there.'

Left: River north and western forest.

.

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The Count headed north.

As expected, more monstrosity sightings.

Proof their numbers had grown.

He was alone.

Alone means blind spots.

Eyes aren't on the back of your head.

He moved as carefully as possible.

Thus, progress was slow.

Had to watch for traps too.

North had a river.

A waterway neither wide nor narrow, snaking along the terrain.

The area was silent too, so the natural river flow sounded clear.

'Monstrosities aren't reacting.'

This confirmed the sounds they reacted to.

Probably 'prey-like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠noises.'

They'd learned river sounds weren't prey-related.

Lucky.

This noise would mask his own.

Less worry about footsteps than other areas.

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Finding fuel wasn't hard.

At the river's end stood a rundown shack.

Young trees grew thick around it, but dodge the web-like wires and you could enter easily.

The Count found a barrel of oil.

Oil's usually in jars or dark glass. This was some red material, hard yet subtly elastic.

'Like rubber, but weirdly firm.'

Mages would love poking at it.

Random thought.

The Count lifted the barrel carefully.

No traps triggered. Good.

"......"

Spotted plenty of traps getting here.

Like those thin wires around the shack.

Traps looked like traps.

Attentive enough, spot 'em before touching.

But.

The silent village shrouded in thick fog.

Night falls, zero visibility.

The Count looked up.

Sun starting to set.

Generator's size? This amount's a drop.

Need more fuel.

Hadn't fully checked north river.

Western forest too.

Lots to do.

One man, time short.

Eyes on lurking monstrosities, he carefully hauled the oil back to the village.

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Dungeon Day 4.

Full north check took two days.

Midway, a momentary lapse put him in a monstrosity's range, but he escaped using a magic bomb from his pocket.

No elevator found.

Thus, powering the generator seemed confirmed as the Zone 5 escape.

West forest left.

Finish that, check capacity southside. If short, risk east forest.

Fuel stored at home.

Piles up nice.

Haul in multiple trips.

Wish for one more person.

Felt the manpower shortage.

The Noble Slayer crossed his mind.

Wonder what happened to him.

The Count walked slowly.

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The Count knew.

Monstrosities react to specific sounds.

'Prey-like noises.'

He could distinguish them.

Otherwise, they'd thrash tentacles wildly by rivers.

"......"

A sound.

Clear as day in the silent village.

The Count peered through the window at the Noble Slayer.

Glassy eyes, hair turned stark white, awkward posture on the sofa.

In front of him sat who seemed his brother.

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"Bzzzt-garbled-static? Dwut?"

The Noble Slayer laughed.

"Yah-mung-guk! Wah? Worok-wak-tung-seo!"

His brother laughed too.

Despite voices stripped of language structure.

As if meaning passed between them, they chatted happily.

"......"

They shut their mouths in unison.

Turned their gazes.

Looked at the Count peeking through the window.

Smiles vanished from their faces.

Heads creaked like they'd seen something repulsive.

The Noble Slayer stood.

Drew the curtains.

With a shwaaack, they vanished from view.

"Bzzzt-garbled-static? Dwut?"

"Yah-mung-guk! Wah? Worok-wak-tung-seo!"

The Count turned away.

Couldn't disturb those at rest.

"......"

Slowly, very slowly.

He distanced himself from the house.

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.

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I checked the live reactions.

Most veterans say this wave's done.

Fair enough. Only the Count left.

His team all retired in Zone 5.

Despair for invaders.

Low odds of powering generator safe, let alone soloing ahead.

Escape's the answer.

Me included, most think so.

But, how to put it.

Not defending the enemy.

The Count doesn't feel ordinary.

Something extraordinary.

Me, watching him all day.

Senses something vague.

Anyway, watch and see.

He's still in the silent village.

Personally speaking.

Veterans won't like this.

I hope he quits the.

And we never cross paths again.

"......"

Is it okay for a Dungeon Master to wish that?

Not sure.

But Oblivion's one hell of a shitty bastard, that's what I think.

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