WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

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◈ Reformation of the Deadbeat Noble

Chapter 190

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Trial of the Dungeon (1)

The dungeon in the wasteland between Lavath, Phalanke, and Calven had two entrances, and it showed a strange feature. The gate wouldn't open unless both sides were breached at the same time.

Of course, forcing the door open by brute strength was one option, but with an ancient dungeon, every single action could snowball into an unpredictable variable, so nobody welcomed that suggestion.

'A magic barrier is probably the most likely explanation.'

Perry Martinez, who'd taken overall command of the First Expedition Team, thought quietly to himself.

Ancient dungeons generally came in three types.

The grave of a hero.

The relic of a god.

And a magic barrier formed by some unexplained phenomenon.

Among these, the last type, the magic barrier dungeon, tended to produce features like this one.

A hero's final wish or a god's will rarely twisted itself into something this convoluted.

That was why Lavath, whose magical forces far outstripped the others, felt confident about this expedition.

'...Well, Abilius is a different story.'

Perry Martinez frowned, thinking of the Second Expedition Team, made up entirely of Holy Kingdom personnel.

Where did the right to claim rewards actually come from?

Obviously, from what one accomplished inside the dungeon.

Seen that way, the fact that the Holy Kingdom alone would handle one entire entrance was bound to rub Lavath the wrong way.

But Perry soon shook his head and cast the thought aside.

The sparring match between Sevion Brooks and Ignet Crescentia four days earlier.

Recalling the raw strength the Black Knight Commander had shown there, he reconsidered.

'...Let's just admit it. Competing with the Holy Kingdom is out of the question.'

Right. Tagging along with Ignet's Black Knight Order might mean not even getting a chance to step up.

Rather than trailing behind the Holy Kingdom sucking his thumb, it would be better to stand out against the comparatively manageable Phalanke and Calven.

"Whew, whew, haah..."

"Amira, calm down. You're a deputy commander. What kind of impression does it make, looking that nervous?"

Perry Martinez's gaze swept across the group.

The greenhorn from Calven, decent with a blade but sorely lacking in experience, and Gregory Griffin, aged and past his prime, posed no problem.

Sevion Brooks was fine too.

Ordinarily a difficult old man to deal with, but right now he still hadn't fully shaken off the shock of his sparring match with the Black Knight Commander.

A one-sided defeat, his first since becoming a Master, must have cut deep.

So who did he actually need to worry about?

'Airen Farreira, and Lulu.'

The old mage's gaze settled on the blond young man and the cat perched on his shoulder.

Those two, he could never afford to let his guard down around.

Airen Farreira especially.

The unpredictable cat Sorcerer was, in the end, just a possibility, nothing more. But that young Sword Master was without question dangerous.

He could still picture it clearly, how Airen hadn't flinched, not even a little, under the sheer pressure Ignet had unleashed.

Given how young the man was, it was hard to believe, but it almost made Perry think Airen might already be stronger than Sevion Brooks.

'I hope things go as planned.'

Pulling his gaze away from the two of them, Perry took a deep breath.

It wasn't all bad. If things went the way he expected, they could still walk away with a solid result.

Just as that thought crossed his mind, a signal flare burst from the far entrance.

He nodded and turned to address the First Expedition Team.

"Let's begin."

"Yes!"

At the resounding reply, Lavath's mages went to work.

The dungeon's entrance, touched by their magic, ground open with a grinding of stone.

Fwoom

Perry Martinez fired off a beam of light to check what lay beyond.

But the darkness showed no sign of lifting, as if a single pebble had been dropped into the depths of a vast ocean.

"Well, guess that's to be expected. Let's move in."

Perry Martinez said this to Sevion Brooks, then took the lead, heading into the dungeon.

Wrapped in a warded robe and gripping a staff carved from northern Jairo wood, the old mage radiated an unmistakable dignity.

Watching his solid back, the rest of the expedition members entered the dungeon with confident strides.

'We march with Lavath's greatest mage.'

'Lord Perry Martinez, the finest mage of the central lands, leads us!'

'Ancient dungeon or not, there's no danger here! We trust in Lord Perry Martinez!'

Feeling the eyes of the mages under his command on his back, Perry Martinez let his own confidence swell in turn.

That's right. He was the finest battle mage in the continent's central region, and he possessed deep knowledge of dungeon exploration besides.

Aside from the three heads of Runtel Kingdom's mage houses, there was no one he'd fall short against.

There was no way he'd lose ground to some knights from Phalanke or some young mercenary from Calven!

With that thought in mind, he strode boldly through the dungeon.

...Then, sensing something off, he turned around.

"..."

No one.

There was nobody there. Barely a few seconds had passed while he was lost in thought, and yet the entire group had vanished, as if they'd evaporated into thin air.

He hadn't felt any shift in magical energy, or anything else for that matter. Whatever had happened, it was entirely beyond his ability to perceive.

Realizing what this meant, Perry Martinez let out a hollow laugh.

"Heh heh heh..."

'So it wasn't a magic barrier after all. An ancient shrine.'

He recalled the knowledge he'd gathered from old texts.

A solitary trial that arrived without any mage, any Sorcerer, any human at all noticing.

In a situation so sudden it could only be explained as a "trial handed down by a god," the correct course of action was to walk one's own path with confidence, without being swept away by the doubt and unease that kept pressing in from the darkness.

Having thought this far, Perry Martinez clicked his tongue.

He wasn't in any real trouble. A lesser mage might struggle, but a mage of his caliber wasn't about to kneel before a trial like this.

More confident in himself than anyone, he settled on a direction and pushed forward through the darkness without a shred of doubt.

Still, it wasn't without its frustrations.

If this was an ancient shrine and not a magic barrier, then there was precious little a mage could actually do here.

He wasn't about to be reduced to a fool, of course, but compared to the Holy Kingdom's force of paladins and high priests, he couldn't help but come up short.

The fact that the losses here would hit them harder relative to Phalanke and Calven was its own headache.

Caught up in these various worries, a few faces drifted through Perry Martinez's mind.

Walls he absolutely had to overcome.

And yet, figures in a world above his own that he still hadn't surpassed, hadn't even reached.

'...The heads of Runtel's mage houses, could they find a way through even under a god's trial?'

The doubt crept in like a faint mist spreading through the air, seeping into the old mage's heart.

He forced himself to look away from it. Shaking his head hard, he carried the slowly growing unease forward, and pressed on, and on.

* * *

'...A trial from a god, is it.'

Seeing the scene unfolding before his eyes, Sevion Brooks knew at once what it was.

A hellscape of countless people killing and being killed. He too wore blood-soaked clothes, gripping a sword slick with human fat.

Fortunately, he realized right away that this wasn't reality, only an illusion.

'One wrong step and I'd have been dragged back into the past. Get a grip.'

The Sword Master steadied his breathing for a moment, then pressed forward.

The civil war had ended thirty years ago already. Neither he nor his homeland would repeat that same mistake.

Steeling his resolve, he swung his sword without hesitation.

The enemy soldiers advancing toward him scattered and vanished like a trivial delusion, cut clean through.

Having overcome dozens of trials that way.

At last, spotting a distant point of light, Sevion Brooks thought as he walked toward it.

'This is going to be a rough one.'

An illusion vivid enough to make even someone at his level, a Master, flinch for an instant.

A few of his most trusted subordinates would probably be fine, but looking at the group as a whole, there had to be plenty who wouldn't manage as well.

Of course, the worst wouldn't happen.

A merciful god would only turn away the unworthy or hold them back, never do them harm.

Still, from the standpoint of someone who needed to clear the dungeon safely, minimizing the loss of manpower mattered.

'I'll have to ask Perry about this once he gets here.'

He quickened his pace, thinking it over.

He never once considered that someone else might have cleared the trial before him.

Ignet, maybe, but compared to everyone else, Sevion Brooks believed he held a stronger will, a firmer self-conviction than anyone.

Which was exactly why what he saw next left him stunned.

"Oh, someone else is here."

"..."

The light he'd seen turned out to be nothing more than a flame the cat Sorcerer had been playing with.

And Lulu wasn't the only one who'd arrived first, either.

House Lindsay's genius, Illia Lindsay, was watching him too, her expression perfectly calm.

"...Quite the crowd of early arrivals."

Perry Martinez, who showed up a step behind, seemed to share the shock, unable to get a word out right away.

His eyes, fixed on Illia Lindsay, were full of something like disbelief.

Hadn't she been deeply troubled after what happened at the banquet?

And yet she'd cleared the trial this quickly?

Faster even than himself, faster than Sevion Brooks?

He had plenty of questions. So did Phalanke's finest knight.

But both of them, too proud to ask, kept their silence, and for a while, time passed in quiet.

"Whew, is that the end of it?"

"Lord Martinez!"

"Lord Brooks, I see you arrived ahead of me as well."

After that, more people who'd cleared the trial trickled steadily into the chamber. Most belonged to Lavath and Phalanke.

Calven had its own arrivals too, of course, Amira Shelton and Gregory Griffin among a handful of others who made it safely out of the darkness.

But two hours passed, and even a full hour after the last arrival, still no one else showed up, and the expedition team had no choice but to make a decision.

"I don't think we can afford to keep waiting."

"So we need to find the altar?"

"Probably... though even if we find it, I can't promise we'll be able to count on them as fighting strength again."

Perry Martinez said, his expression sour.

Since this was a trial handed down by a merciful god, those still wandering lost in the darkness likely wouldn't come to serious harm.

Most likely, finding the altar somewhere inside the dungeon and offering a prayer along with some simple offering would let them reunite with the missing members.

But whether those recovered members would still be fit to fight, that was another matter, and he couldn't help feeling skeptical.

'Still, nothing to do but keep moving forward...'

The old mage clicked his tongue and turned his head.

There he saw the cat still cheerfully playing with her little flame, and Illia Lindsay, eyes closed, quietly continuing her meditation.

Irritated by their relaxed mood, he tossed out a question.

"Would the esteemed Sorcerer, and the great young lady of House Lindsay, happen to have an opinion?"

It wasn't really that he expected a solution.

He was just irritated at how neither of them seemed to be carrying any weight at all, mercenaries or not.

There was a little intent behind it too, a small jab meant to needle the talented Sorcerer and the Sword Master.

But, surprisingly, an answer came right back.

Illia Lindsay opened her eyes slowly and looked steadily at Perry Martinez as she spoke.

"I trust him."

"What?"

"I mean, let's wait with trust."

"What's that supposed to..."

"I believe the whole point of this trial was to build enough faith and trust to move forward past every doubt, every anxiety, every shred of distrust."

"..."

"Not just faith in yourself, but faith in others too. That's what I believe."

"...Sounds like Miss Lindsay has faith in a companion who hasn't arrived yet."

Perry Martinez had it right.

Among the people they'd expected to clear the trial early, the one person still nowhere to be seen was Airen Farreira, the one who'd reached the rank of Master.

It was unexpected, but not entirely incomprehensible.

Reaching a high level with the sword didn't guarantee a strong heart to match. And even the strong sometimes had moments of weakness.

Beyond that, honestly, he hadn't expected much from anyone else.

Anyone who still hadn't cleared the trial simply lacked sufficient self-discipline, or so Lavath's court mage believed.

"He's here."

Just then.

Illia Lindsay's and Lulu's eyes turned in the same direction at the same moment.

Following their lead, Sevion Brooks, Perry Martinez, and everyone else turned their heads toward the same spot.

And every person from all three kingdoms froze, mouths hanging open.

"..."

"..."

Carrying a greatsword wrapped in a warm, gentle light, bright as a hearth fire, like firewood crackling in a fireplace.

A figure who had become the lantern guiding those on the verge of being left behind, walking ahead of them all with a faint, gentle smile.

Radiating a sacred, noble presence, Airen Farreira walked forward, exchanged a warm glance with Illia Lindsay and Lulu, then approached Perry Martinez.

"Sorry. Took a bit longer than I expected."

"..."

Having answered his companions' faith in full, Airen Farreira stood before the old mage, upright and dignified, like something out of a legend.

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