WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

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◈ Sword Master of the Fallen Kingdom

Chapter 19

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Rumors of a Windfall (4)

Kyle and Lena left the city and headed straight for their destination.

Three days on foot, a day and a half on horseback. Close enough, all things considered. Lena insisted the five silver coins she'd paid hadn't gone to waste, and gave Kyle a thorough rundown of the dungeon's location. Not that any of it was reliable. They'd still have to get close and search for signs of people themselves.

"There really are a lot of people, though. Leaving the city, there were so many other mercenaries, weren't there?"

She was right. Every road they took was dotted with what could only be mercenaries hunting for the dungeon, most of them in parties of three or more.

"That's just how unconquered dungeons are. The bigger the risk, the bigger the reward."

Mercenaries were greedy by nature. Humans generally were, but mercenaries especially so. The depth of that ambition was something most people couldn't even imagine.

"What if we come all this way and walk away empty-handed?"

"Then we scrape up whatever crumbs we can. We have to come away with something."

"Ah...."

"Don't worry too much. The rumor's been spreading for over two weeks, which means the dungeon's been found for well over a month. And it isn't dying down. Still spreading, more people every day."

"That means...."

"The odds it hasn't been conquered yet are very high."

The gloom lifted from Lena's face. Watching her wear her feelings so openly, Kyle found himself thinking.

A dungeon unconquered for over a month meant one thing: it was far harder than most. Mercenaries being what they were, the first finder would have held onto the information as long as possible before the rumor slipped out.

Maybe not a month but two, or three. With unconquered dungeons and undiscovered ruins, the rumor often spread only after the first finder turned up dead. Which would push the difficulty even higher.

Then again, that just meant clearing it would be all the more rewarding. Maybe he should be pleased.

They kept moving, talking about the dungeon and drifting into idle chat in between. At some point the paved road between cities gave way to rough forest paths.

"We'll camp here tonight."

Night of the third day. Kyle found a suitable spot, built a fire, and settled in. They were deep in the mountain range where the dungeon was rumored to be.

"Tomorrow...."

"Right. Plenty of signs so far. If your information holds up, we should find the entrance before noon."

A pot bubbled over the crackling fire. The sun had long since gone down.

Kyle tossed more wood onto the flames, then stirred with a ladle to check on the food. A simple trail stew with dried rations, same as always, but the smell was better than it had any right to be.

For roughing it outdoors, this was practically a luxury. Plenty of mercenaries got by on cheap jerky and called it dinner.

"I've been thinking this for a while, but you must have a lot more money than you look, Kyle-ssi. Most mercenaries don't throw vegetables and spices into everything. Salt is usually as far as it goes."

Lena blew on a spoonful before she said it.

"One of the few pleasures I allow myself."

"Don't people tell you you're a good cook?"

"There's no skill to it. Good ingredients do most of the work."

Ingredients mattered as much as skill. That was just how it worked.

Unlike most mercenaries, Kyle had no interest in drink, gambling, or women. His income eclipsed most Gold-rank mercenaries, and with nowhere else to put it, food was the one indulgence. Others might have shaken their heads at a bowl of campfire stew costing that much. He didn't particularly care.

"How long has it been since you left the mage tower?"

Kyle asked, chewing a piece of white wheat bread he'd bought in the city.

"Um... just over a month."

"Were you traveling alone the whole time?"

"Once, except for that. After, it was always just me."

"A mage from the Lenore Magic Tower should have had no trouble finding a team."

"Yes. But...."

She left it there. Kyle had a fair idea of what she'd been about to say.

"Finding trustworthy teammates is hard. More so if you actually have skill."

"......."

"Wasn't a bad call. Rushing into some half-decent party out of desperation, you'd have gotten yourself into trouble."

An untested mage, especially a young woman, was about as tempting a target as it got. At least to the sort of mercenaries who killed without a second thought.

"You're right. Meeting you because of it, Kyle-ssi, it was a stroke of real luck."

"Don't get too comfortable. What if I'm planning to betray you?"

"Does someone who's planning that usually say it out loud?"

"You never know."

"It's fine. I'm actually pretty good at reading people." A pause. "Oh, would you like some of this?"

Lena put down her bowl and rummaged through a pouch tucked inside her robe. Out came a small, bright-yellow candy.

"It's an orange candy. I've been saving it, but I'll make an exception for you. I feel bad always eating your food."

"...I'll take the thought. I'm not big on sweets."

"Really? They're so good, though...."

"That pouch, by the way. Is that a subspace pouch?"

Kyle nodded toward her hand. She'd been pulling travel supplies out of it since day one.

"Yes. Holds just over a cubic meter."

"That must be worth a fortune. Bold of you to carry it around."

Even among fully ranked mages from major towers, subspace pouches were rare. That was how valuable they were. One holding over a cubic meter was worth roughly as much as Kyle's own.

"My grandfather made it for me. A few years ago, as a birthday present...."

Ah.

The word slipped out before she caught herself. Lena flinched, then glanced at Kyle as if she'd said something she shouldn't have.

"...Sorry. Please forget I said that."

"Don't worry about it. I'm not one to talk."

The mood sank. Lena hunched over her bowl, clearly somewhere else, picking at what was left of her stew. Kyle glanced at her once, then went back to his meal without a word.

Tomorrow they'd be entering an unconquered dungeon. Whatever she was carrying was her business. Clumsy comfort did more harm than good, and that wasn't exactly his strong suit anyway.

He stared at the fire. Memories of past dungeons and ruins drifted through his mind.

Still wish I had a teleport scroll.

With more time, he'd have gone in fully prepared. A teleport scroll was the clearest example. Most dungeons and ruins didn't let you back out easily once you were inside. A scroll inscribed with spatial magic was practically a second life, something you could use to escape whenever things went wrong.

The problem was they were nearly impossible to find. As useful as they were, they were just as rare. Demand was sky-high while the supply that actually reached the open market was almost nothing. The masters of major mage towers might have one or two each, at best. Something even high nobility couldn't easily get hold of, so finding two in such a short time was simply out of the question. Spatial magic was that rarified a discipline. Just flashing a subspace pouch in some tavern would be enough to...

That was when it happened.

"It's getting late."

"Shouldn't we find somewhere to camp?"

"Over there looks decent."

Faint voices. Then the sense of people nearby. His senses, loose until a moment ago, snapped sharp. His hand moved without thinking toward the sword he'd set beside him.

"This spot look okay?"

"Not bad."

"Right. We'll camp here then... oh."

Almost at the same moment, three people pushed through the undergrowth. Two men and a woman, all of them staring wide-eyed when they spotted Kyle and Lena. Unlike Kyle with his unnatural awareness, they hadn't sensed anyone until now.

"There's someone here?"

"Well...."

"We should ask to share the camp. Looking for another spot at this hour would take too long."

The three exchanged glances and whispered briefly among themselves.

"Ahem."

One of the men stepped forward.

"If it isn't too much trouble, would you mind letting us share your camp for the night? We'll leave first thing in the morning, I promise. We need to be up early, and it's too late to go looking for somewhere else."

"As long as you keep your blades sheathed."

Kyle replied without looking up. The man's face lit up. They exchanged another look among themselves and settled cautiously on the opposite side of the fire.

"Um, the fire as well...."

Kyle said nothing. He glanced toward the flames, which was answer enough. They hadn't eaten yet. The three began pulling out simple ingredients to make their own stew. When the only thing left was waiting for it to cook, the man who'd stepped forward bowed his head.

"Thank you. You really saved us."

"......."

"Oh, I forgot introductions. My name is Erik."

"Bruno. Thanks for letting us join you."

"I'm Hanna. Just for tonight, but I hope we get along."

All three thanked them again, as if conscious of the hospitality Kyle had shown first. He took his time looking each of them over.

Erik, who'd spoken first, was average in height and unremarkable in appearance. Light leather armor built for mobility, same as Kyle's. From the weapons, he favored a sword and shield.

Bruno was the opposite: big frame, dense with muscle, every bit the archetype of a warrior. His weapon was a large double-headed axe, not a sword. The close-cropped hair alone told you his fighting style and temperament. Types like that usually led with raw strength and not much else.

Hanna, unlike the other two, carried no blade. Only a large wooden staff, and gear to match, no armor to speak of. She was wrapped in a thin robe the same as Lena's, short brown hair, the picture of a mage.

"Kyle."

"I'm Lena. Nice to meet you."

"Are you both mercenaries?"

Erik asked, sneaking a glance at the stew pot.

"I am. She isn't."

"I see. You don't look ordinary, if you don't mind my saying. What rank are you?"

"Silver."

"Silver rank?"

"Really?"

All three of them stared. An expected reaction. Kyle's expression didn't shift.

Silver rank was that significant. The gap between Silver and the rank just below it, Bronze, was enormous. Bronze was reachable with steady effort and accumulated results. Silver had a wall in front of it. Like how someone who couldn't use mana couldn't, as a rule, beat someone who could.

"And the person beside you...."

Erik turned to Lena, still surprised. The attention made her smile awkwardly.

"Oh, I'm just a mage. Not really any rank to speak of."

"But that robe looks rather expensive for 'just a mage.'"

"Hold on. Isn't that the Lenore Magic Tower's insignia?"

Hanna's eyes went wide, catching what Erik had missed.

"Lenore Magic Tower? Are you serious?"

"At first I wasn't sure, but now... yes, definitely. No mage working in the south doesn't know that emblem. Are you really from the Lenore Magic Tower?"

"Well, yes...."

"Apprentice or full rank?"

"Full rank, technically...."

"Wow. I'm honestly jealous. I came from nothing, self-taught from books I stumbled across. No formal training at all."

Hanna looked at Lena's robe with undisguised envy. There were commoners who found their way to magic through raw talent, but they could never quite match those who came from nobility or money. Unlike swordsmanship, even the most basic magical education cost a fortune.

"You're not much older than us either. Both of you are something else. All three of us are Bronze rank."

Erik said it with something between admiration and sheepishness. Bronze rank had its own status, but put next to a Silver-rank mercenary and a mage from Lenore Tower, the gap was hard to ignore. The way all three of them looked at Kyle and Lena had shifted noticeably from before.

"You're heading into the dungeon?"

Erik nodded.

"Yes. Yourselves?"

"Same. Everyone who made it this far has the same goal."

"I just followed Kyle-ssi, personally."

"I see. I won't call it payment for the fire, but, how much do you know about this dungeon?"

He looked beside him. Lena was already looking at Kyle, apparently thinking the same thing.

"Rough location. Not much more."

"Hmm...."

"An unconquered dungeon isn't going to have much information floating around. Whoever gets there first takes everything."

Not the kind of thing you could just buy. If the dungeon hadn't been cleared, you had to go in and learn it yourself. Kyle preferred to see things firsthand over working from uncertain secondhand information. Every delay shaved another point off the odds of being the one to clear it.

"You're right. We tried to find information about the interior, but there was nothing."

"......."

"There's quite a bit we do know from outside, though. This is just what we've heard, but the rumor about this dungeon seems to have spread much further than most people realize. Were you aware of that?"

"Seemed that way."

He thought back to the number of mercenaries they'd passed on the way. Dungeons and ruins always drew crowds, but this one felt different. Bigger.

"That's not all. Apparently House Filein itself is making a move on this dungeon."

"House Filein?"

Lena was the one who reacted. She blinked those large teal eyes, genuinely startled, and stared at Erik.

"Yes. House Filein."

He said it again, as if to confirm. The name carried that much weight. Not just Lena, but Kyle as well.

One of Brendel Kingdom's foremost high nobles. A great lord in every sense.

And the one responsible for the raid on House Metis's trade convoy. The master of the four knights Kyle had killed a few days ago.

"I assume you've heard that Marquis Filein has been scooping up artifacts and relics from dungeons and ruins lately. With this dungeon getting so much attention, it looks like he's decided to reach in."

"......."

"The bigger problem is that Marquis Filein isn't the only major player with his eye on this dungeon."

"Who else?"

"Have you heard of the Twin Fangs of Silence?"

He had. Anyone with a foot in the mercenary world would know that name.

Serentia, the foremost intelligence guild in the continent's south. The Twin Fangs had been their elite armed force before breaking away a few years back after an internal falling-out, setting themselves up as an assassination guild of their own.

"The guild master themselves is apparently making a move on this dungeon."

"......."

"And the most important thing...."

Erik trailed off. For a moment the only sound around the fire was the rolling boil of the stew.

"Not a single person who has entered this unconquered dungeon has come back alive."

"What?"

"What did you say?"

Both Kyle and Lena frowned at the same time.

"I'm not joking. Do you know how long ago the dungeon was first found?"

"Two months?"

Erik shook his head.

"Three months."

"And even that's a guess. Could be longer. That's probably why the rumor spread as far as it did. With a normal dungeon or ruin, you'd expect at least some survivors."

But there were none. That was the strange part.

This wasn't an ordinary dungeon.

"You know all of that, and you're still going in?"

Kyle couldn't quite make sense of it. He had the experience and the confidence to walk into something like this and come out the other side. But a Bronze-rank party of three? He had no idea what they thought they were betting on.

"Well, we need the money. Doesn't everyone?"

Erik shrugged.

"It's a bit much to say out loud, but the three of us grew up together in an orphanage. We've saved up a fair amount, and we figured, one big score, then retire."

"We've always dreamed of building a proper orphanage back in our hometown. Somewhere to take in kids who've been left behind. We didn't have enough growing up, not even close, and that never leaves you...."

Bruno and Hanna each added their piece. Whether they'd already made their peace with the risks or the dream simply burned that bright, there was more resolve than fear in their eyes.

"We know it's dangerous. But dangerous means rewarding, and say what you will about us, the three of us are confident in our own abilities. Even just scraping something off the edges before we come out would be enough, wouldn't it? It's not as if any of this information is definitely true either."

Another shrug from Erik. The stew they'd put on finished cooking just then.

"Oh, sorry. Just while we eat...."

"......."

"We haven't had dinner yet."

Erik and the others settled in for a late dinner, keeping the conversation going between bites, whether to ease the tension or just from habit.

Kyle stared down at his stew, long since gone cold, and lifted the last spoonful. Cold as it was, still fine. Better than the jerky from before, which had tasted like nothing but salt.

"Huh. So at the mage tower, you do hands-on practice too, not just theory?"

"Yes. There are quite a few requirements for becoming a full mage. You have to write research papers too...."

"That sounds brutal. Not easy work at all."

By now Lena seemed much more at ease, chatting freely with Erik and the others. Kyle pushed the last scrap of bread down and warmed himself on a cup of hot tea, turning over what Erik had told them.

House Filein. The Twin Fangs of Silence. Three months of no survivors.

"Kyle-ssi. And Lena-ssi."

"If you don't mind, would you be willing to form a party with us?"

Erik spoke carefully, watching their faces. Lena's shoulders tensed despite having been chatting comfortably a moment before. She hesitated, then turned instinctively to look beside her, and her eyes went wide.

"Kyle-ssi...?"

Kyle had raised his arm in front of her. His dark eyes, fixed on Erik and the others, shimmered with a deep crimson light. The campsite, loud with conversation just moments before, went completely still.

Under the silent night sky, the only sound was the steady crack and pop of the fire.

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