WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 183

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Ancient Dungeon (2)

Every eye in the inn's hall turned toward Airen Farreira.

Not because he'd asked a strange question.

An ancient dungeon, one that might date back further still, something entirely different in kind from a nameless mage's hideout!

Just hearing about it was enough to set anyone's heart racing.

Any mercenary or mage worth their salt would naturally take interest, and with a little courage, asking whether they could join in was only natural too.

And yet the reaction of the crowd was anything but warm.

Johnson understood exactly why.

'Well, nothing bad's going to come of it, probably.'

The first time he'd driven this carriage, he'd trembled like he was riding alongside the reaper himself. But he knew better now.

That young man wasn't the type to pick fights or stir up trouble with strangers.

He just happened to lack a bit of situational awareness.

'If he'd just show off even half of what he's actually got, life would be a lot easier.'

Couldn't be helped, really. He'd been carrying his younger brother Kiril's advice around with him, but there'd simply been too much happening to Airen lately for that to stick.

Fortunately, nobody in the place laughed at him or mocked him.

They just stared at the middle aged mercenary, faces blank.

Airen wasn't the only one interested in the dungeon expedition, though.

The sharp eyed man who'd been silently drinking in the corner this whole time got up and walked over too.

Tension rippled through the room. A few people even dragged their chairs closer to their tables, careful not to brush against him as he passed.

The mood was nothing like it had been when Airen approached.

In that atmosphere, the man asked the exact same question.

"Calven's probably still looking for people. Am I right?"

"...You're right. That side's short on manpower compared to the other kingdoms."

"I see. Not too late yet, is it?"

"Couldn't say. But if even a nobody like me's heard the news, some time's probably already passed. If you're after something, you'd better move fast."

"Appreciate the advice."

The sharp eyed man nodded, set two silver coins on the table, and vanished.

Once the middle aged mercenary confirmed the man had left the inn for good, he let out a long breath and said.

"Two silver coins don't cover it. That's not a gaze I want to sit across from for long."

"........."

"Ah, if you're interested in the dungeon too, head to Calven. Like I said, they're looking for mercenaries there. Though given the size of the dungeon, ordinary skill won't cut it. Not saying that about you specifically, mind, don't take it the wrong way."

"I wasn't thinking that."

Airen smiled at the man's oddly considerate words. Something about his calm, steady presence caught the middle aged man's eye.

'Thought he was just some green kid who didn't know the world, but now that I look again, maybe not...'

Enough confidence in his own skill to speak up like that, was it?

The mercenary smirked faintly and went back to his beer.

He was the only one who reacted that way, though. Most of the room had already lost interest in Airen.

Instead, they kept trading bits of gossip about the man who'd just left.

"That guy just now, was that Bern?"

"Yeah. Word is he cleared out a demonoid den in Kalrn territory single handed, not too long ago."

"Strong enough to join this expedition, you think?"

"No idea. From what that fellow said, three kingdoms, four counting the Holy Kingdom, are teaming up on this dungeon... can a lone mercenary really squeeze in?"

"Still worth a shot, though."

"That's true enough."

A few of them chatted while sneaking glances Airen's way.

The look in their eyes was nothing like the one they'd given Bern. Even a blond young man who lacked much awareness could tell that much.

No need to worry about it. Back at his seat, he said.

"Guess we don't need to go all the way to the Holy Kingdom."

"We're heading to Calven?"

"We should. What that man said might not be entirely accurate, but going there is the only way to get solid information. And if it turns out to be true, we'll have to join the expedition no matter what."

"Yes! I'm in! An ancient dungeon, that's so exciting!"

Lulu, who'd shown lukewarm interest just moments earlier, did a complete one-eighty the second the word "ancient" got tacked on.

Understandable, really.

Unlike the dungeons found these days, dungeons that had sat untouched for centuries were basically magic boxes, no telling what might be waiting inside.

'Maybe...'

Airen thought briefly of his past life, then shook his head.

First things first: get to Calven, and get into that expedition.

Thoughts settled, he looked ahead and spoke.

"Johnson, thanks for everything up to now."

"Ah... understood. This is as far as I go, then."

Johnson nodded.

Calven wasn't far from here, and unlike the continent's north, the roads were well maintained.

They wouldn't really need his guidance anymore.

And so, having carried out his duty in the company of three monsters, without ever being found out as a former member of a bandit gang, he walked away a free man.

The next morning, alone now, Johnson looked at the pile of gold in his pocket and thought.

"...Guess I'll live an honest life from here on."

His tarnished character didn't turn spotless overnight, of course.

Still, the reason Johnson had decided to walk the path of reform wasn't just his newly comfortable finances.

'There are way too many monsters out there in this world.'

He'd realized, through this whole ordeal, just how many terrifyingly strong people were walking around with their true strength hidden.

He closed his eyes quietly and thought back over the journey.

A young man in his twenties with a face too kind for his own good, drawing out a golden Aura Sword.

A woman swordsman who looked like she'd sweep the social scene the moment she put on a dress, slicing through a thick tree trunk like it was nothing.

And a monster cat.

'Yeah. Exactly. This is a world where you have no choice but to live right.'

Let's be someone even a stray cat on the street wouldn't be ashamed of.

Nodding to himself, Johnson set off not toward his old hideout in the north, but on a journey to become a new man.

* * *

"I don't like it! I don't like this!"

"Deputy Commander, that's the thousandth time you've said that."

"What am I supposed to do when the whole situation's gone to hell! Aaaargh! Those garbage Phalanke and Lavath bastards!"

The aide watched Amira Shelton, Deputy Commander of Calven's First Knight Order, huffing and fuming, and shook his head.

She was a fine looking woman when she kept her mouth shut, which made the sight of her raging like this all the more unpleasant to witness.

A waterfall of curses filthy enough to make even back alley thugs wince poured out toward the two kingdoms.

Not that he didn't understand. He found Phalanke and Lavath's conduct just as infuriating himself.

'It's called "abandoned land" only in name. That dungeon came out of territory that's practically ours, and now we're about to get robbed of it outright...'

The dungeon had been discovered in the wasteland between Phalanke, Lavath, and Calven, a garbage strip of land crawling with worthless monsters like goblins.

But since Calven sat closest by distance to where all those filthy monsters kept swarming out, the kingdom had no choice but to send subjugation squads out there on a regular basis, grinding its teeth the whole time.

The dungeon had turned up in the middle of all that.

Naturally, once Phalanke and Lavath caught wind of it, they weren't about to sit quietly.

Both greedy kingdoms argued that since the dungeon had been found on land belonging to no one, and since they were close by too, they had rights to it as well.

Calven had, of course, thrown a fit calling it nonsense, but once it came out that the dungeon's scale was bigger than anyone had guessed, they'd had no choice but to grudgingly make room at the table.

As a mere city-state, they simply didn't have the strength to keep both kingdoms in check while also tackling a dungeon of that size on their own.

'And then the Holy Kingdom folks butt in too, saying it might be some ancient shrine, and the whole thing turns into an absolute headache.'

Not that Abilius joining in was entirely bad news.

Since they styled themselves as a kingdom of the gods, they'd at least put some check on Phalanke and Lavath shamelessly trying to fill their own pockets.

Even so, matching a certain baseline of strength was essential.

They couldn't bring along Sword Masters or the finest battle mage in the central region the way the two kingdoms could, but that meant they had to scrape together whatever solid talent they could find for the expedition, just to save face.

"So where in the world are all these damn mercenaries hiding, huh?!"

Bang! Bang! Baaang!

Crack, cra-a-ack-!

Deputy Commander Amira Shelton, thoroughly worked up, pounded her fists on the desk. Cracks and splinters spread across the wooden table.

Honestly, when they'd first started recruiting mercenaries, she never imagined they'd get backed into a corner like this.

She'd figured hiring the Charlot and Victor duo, famous across the continent's central region, would be more than enough on its own.

If that fell through, she'd planned to go the extra mile and bring in Zet Frost, the 101st ranked swordsman in Partisan, or the father and son pair, Harrison Pinto and Ricardo Pinto.

All for nothing.

Charlot and Victor, who'd been running around the world like it was too small for them, had vanished without a trace at some point, and Zet Frost and the Pintos had all gone into closed door training.

Every other mercenary worth hiring seemed to have taken on other work too, as if they'd all agreed on it beforehand.

The one decent catch they'd landed was Bern, who'd taken down the demonoid in Kalrn, but he alone was nowhere near enough.

At minimum, she needed someone upper-tier Expert.

Ideally, a top-tier Expert bordering on Sword Master...

She was in the middle of stewing over that when a report came up from below.

Reading it over, Amira Shelton's expression eased considerably. Clearing her throat, she said to her aide.

"Ah, ahem. Do I sound okay?"

"You're fine, but you should fix your hair too. It's a mess."

"Oh, yeah? I'll just tie it back, then. Better now? Presentable?"

"Excellent, ma'am. With a look this noble, there's no mercenary alive who wouldn't take a liking to you."

The aide meant every word.

Her flushed face had calmed, and the mouth that had been spewing curses nonstop had gone quiet.

Her hair, which had looked like she'd been struck by lightning, was now a neat ponytail.

Looking at her now, she could easily pass for a knight worthy of representing Calven.

"Good. Let's go."

In much better spirits, Amira Shelton headed out to the training grounds behind the building.

In her head, hope, "this time will work out, right?" and caution, "no, don't get your hopes up, you'll only be disappointed," fought for space at once.

Still, there was one saving grace: the three mercenaries waiting for her surely weren't just anybody.

Anyone who'd shown up chasing the words "ancient dungeon" alone would already have been filtered out.

'But what if they ask for a share of the dungeon loot instead of pay? No, don't think about that yet. First, check if they're actually skilled.'

A sound line of thinking.

With manpower this scarce these days, compensation was something to worry about later.

Securing talent came first.

Amira Shelton prayed, and prayed again, that the mercenaries standing in the training ground would be the real deal, the kind whose names alone meant something.

But the moment her eyes landed on them.

Snap.

Her patience shattered.

"You."

"Yes! Deputy Commander! Let me introduce them first. The blond swordsman on the left holds a Silver Plate rank from Alkantrea..."

"You, that's enough. Get out."

"Sorry?"

"Get out of my sight!"

The Deputy Commander snapped in fury.

The knight who'd been introducing the mercenaries flinched and backed away.

Amira paid him no mind either way. Dropping her professional smile, she drew her sword with a sharp motion and said.

"Let's see what you've got first."

Her voice carried a razor's edge.

It couldn't be helped. What she'd wanted was someone at least a rank above herself, someone who wouldn't embarrass them in front of Phalanke and Lavath.

But look at what stood in front of her now.

Two kids who couldn't have been thirty, barely twenty if that, staring back at her blankly.

'Wait, didn't they say three? Can these useless idiots not even count heads properly?'

She glanced around, wondering if a third was somewhere else, but no.

She rubbed her eyes and looked again, and there was still nothing in front of her but a blond swordsman, a silver haired swordsman, and a cat scratching its belly.

"Let's get this over with quickly."

Amira Shelton said, settling into her stance. Her voice carried even more irritation than before.

She knew it wasn't their fault. If anyone was to blame, it was her own useless subordinates.

But she couldn't stand it, couldn't let this frustration go unspent, so she shot them a look demanding they draw their weapon already.

"Understood."

The silver haired swordsman, seeming to have finally read the mood, stepped forward and drew her sword.

The blond swordsman held the black cat in his arms and stepped back. Just like that, a one-on-one matchup was set.

Amira opened her mouth to say something, then shook her head instead.

'Well, doesn't matter if they come at me together or one at a time.'

Let's just end this fast.

End it fast and go chew out her idiot subordinates.

With that thought, she swung her sword with everything she had.

Fwoooosh!

A terrifying strike cutting through the air!

She had no intention of hurting her opponent, of course. All she meant to do was knock the weapon aside and disarm them.

But Amira couldn't achieve even that much.

Clang!

"Huh?"

Kwaaang!

"Guh!"

A clean block.

Followed immediately by a counter series.

Amira Shelton had no choice but to lose her grip on her sword. It flew off into the distance, spinning through the air with a whirring sound before burying itself in the ground with a thud.

That was the end of the match.

"........."

"........."

"........."

Silence settled over the yard.

The silver haired swordsman, the blond swordsman, her own subordinate.

Even the black cat, still scratching its belly, stared wordlessly at Amira Shelton.

Standing stiff under the weight of every gaze on her, she went red in the face and bolted off somewhere.

Unable to face the situation, she'd simply run away.

"........."

"What was that? What just happened?"

"Beats me..."

"P-please, please wait just a moment! Our Deputy Commander can be a little scatterbrained sometimes, I'm terribly sorry! I'm so sorry!"

The knight who knew who these people really were scrambled to keep them from leaving.

Not that Airen's group had any intention of walking off, of course. They had good reason to see this through.

Too baffled by the whole scene to even mind being treated like green rookies, they found they weren't particularly upset about it.

After a few minutes of waiting, someone else emerged from the building that had swallowed the Deputy Commander whole.

The man who'd introduced himself as the aide held an envelope decorated with a dainty flower petal design.

"I want, I want to open it."

Lulu wriggled out of Airen's arms and opened the envelope. Inside was a congratulatory card.

[Congratulations! You are now an official member of Calven's dungeon expedition!]

"...I'm sorry. Our Deputy Commander is a bit like that."

"........."

"Would you forgive the rudeness?"

None of the three had really thought it was rude to begin with, but all three nodded at once.

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