Borderline Village (1)
Three months ago.
When Dalen left the Holy Knights, Lucia decided to stay at the main headquarters for further training.
“The commander said I could follow Dalen if I wanted to, but… if I did, I wouldn’t have time to process all the insights I’ve gained thanks to him.”
She had said this with a somber expression two days before their farewell.
It was understandable. The time they spent together was a journey worthy of any legendary tale.
They had defeated the demon of the labyrinth and a fallen paladin to reclaim the holy sword, thwarted a witch’s plot to annihilate a city, and fought through ancient underground ruins to infiltrate the heart of a rebel force.
To leave such profound insights unrefined would be senseless. It was almost surprising that she had returned to the outside world so quickly.
“But… a hero is a hero, after all.”
Just three months. Or perhaps even less, considering the journey to the labyrinth city.
A period too short to achieve anything significant, yet Lucia’s presence had transformed completely.
Even Dalen couldn’t recognize her aura until he saw her with his own eyes.
The clumsy apprentice knight was gone, replaced by a serene, unwavering holy power.
Her presence, like a shining sword, reminded him of the noble paladins he had only seen through a monitor.
“She must have absorbed all those insights. Is this the difference a hero’s potential makes?”
Unlike Dalen, she couldn’t rely on the power of a status window, yet her growth was astonishing.
The potential of heroes who shone even in the face of doom was something even he couldn’t easily measure.
Click.
“In response to requests from various nations, the Holy Knights have decided to expand their operations once more.”
In the familiar reception room of the forge, Lucia sipped the tea Penny had served and began to speak.
“As you know, the Holy Knights once established branches across the continent to combat demons and monsters. Thousands of monsters were hunted, and dozens of demons were either destroyed or sealed.”
“And they executed as many nobles as they sealed demons, including a duke of the empire.”
”…Yes. Officially, they were all demon worshippers, but records made by human hands are hard to trust.”
Lucia nodded, an impressive gesture for a paladin acknowledging a difficult past.
“Eventually, leaders of various nations, fearing for their sovereignty, requested the knights to restrain themselves. And that’s how things have been until now.”
The rise and fall of the Holy Knights was a story Dalen was well-acquainted with.
A few centuries ago, their influence was unmatched, even imprisoning or executing nobles under the guise of demon affiliation.
In the political arena, where national interests were intertwined, such blatant displays of power couldn’t last.
Three hundred years ago, the knights, under pressure from the continent’s nations, were reduced to guarding the rift at their headquarters.
“But now, the situation has changed.”
As the end approached, monsters began appearing across the continent.
The existing forces struggled to maintain order over such vast lands.
Moreover, troops trained to fight humans felt inevitable fear when hunting inhuman entities.
Ultimately, the nations had no choice but to seek the expertise of those who had hunted demons and monsters for over a millennium.
“So, you came to the Mithril Forge for supplies?”
“Exactly. It’s not easy to find a forge outside the headquarters that can produce silversteel. The Mithril Forge will exclusively supply weapons, especially those made of silversteel, to the forces dispatched to the central continent, including the city alliance.”
[Hmm, impressive. You seemed to value that blacksmith, but did you plan even this?]
In his mind, the red spear interjected slyly. Dalen merely shrugged.
He had half-expected it, but even he hadn’t anticipated the Holy Knights’ shackles would be lifted so swiftly.
The red spear, interpreting his reaction, chuckled meaningfully.
[…Indeed, you’re no ordinary person. I’ll look forward to the promise you made to me.]
“In fact, I was somewhat prepared for this.”
”…Hmm? What do you mean?”
Dalen tilted his head. Had he lost track of the conversation while talking to the sly dragon?
“Well… the Holy Knights rarely provide the silver flame to outsiders. I thought, just maybe, I might meet you. But still, why…”
Her head hung low, her face hidden by her drooping golden hair, revealing a blush.
Thump, thump. Her rapidly rising heartbeat was clear to his heightened senses. Dalen chuckled softly.
“Anyone would think you went through something significant.”
“S-Significant…?”
“Wasn’t it just a greeting? I heard it’s a traditional way to express gratitude in your homeland. That’s what it meant for me too.”
“Ah, no, that’s not… well, it is, but… I mean…”
The paladin, her face as red as a beet, stammered. Dalen chuckled quietly and sipped his coffee.
It was a side of the noble demon slayer he had never seen through the monitor.
A moment that reminded him this world wasn’t just a mass of code made of zeros and ones.
Lucia planned to stay in the city to continue her duties with the Holy Knights.
Aside from securing the supply deal with the Mithril Forge, she seemed to have personal missions to undertake.
“Indeed, it would be a waste to let such talent idle. Considering her recent growth, challenging missions would be the right way to foster even greater development.”
The commander of the Holy Knights, Edgar Reinhardt, was more than capable of making such strategic decisions.
After Lucia left, Dalen ordered a new axe and spear from Reberon.
The spear had turned to dust after enduring the red spear’s power, and the axe he received from the knights was nearly scrap after countless battles.
The durability of the hand axe was something even the commander boasted about, but expecting it to remain intact after tearing through dragon scales and demon hides would be unreasonable.
“An axe? Come back in three days! I’ll make you the finest hand axe with the flame you gave me. How much? You should stop thinking about paying for anything from my forge!”
Reberon laughed heartily when Dalen asked about the price.
As a token of appreciation for his main customer and benefactor, he even handed over a small barrel of beer.
The following days were busy.
The first task was organizing the rewards from the Golden Palace for the defeat of Kalkas.
Chests of jewels worth five gold coins, a brigandine armor made of black iron, and the auction rights promised by Gawain.
In addition, the Golden Palace provided a three-story house in an affluent area near the barrier tower in the center of the Silver District.
“They’re trying to tie me to Falchion with property as bait.”
It was a transparent ploy, but Dalen had no reason to refuse.
Considering the cost of land and construction, it showed how highly the Golden Palace valued him.
Moreover, with his growing reputation, he couldn’t stay in an inn forever.
Upon visiting his new home, Dalen first set up a training space and acquired a large number of magical theory books through the Elgaia Magic Tower.
Compared to swordsmanship or martial arts, magic required a strong theoretical foundation.
With the goal of breaking the mold of existing skills through unique abilities, expanding his limits in every possible way was the right approach.
A few more days passed.
After visiting Bjorn’s workshop to discuss the gunpowder supply promised by the Tsar’s special forces, he returned the next day, having calmed Bjorn’s enthusiasm for crafting a custom 12-shot crossbow.
“Last night, our informants went silent. Then this note arrived at the tavern.”
Summoned by Sienna, Dalen realized it was time to act in the office of the Raven’s Nest.
“‘If you don’t want to die drugged, crawl on your own, you bitch.’ Hmm, a classic threat.”
“Typical back-alley bravado. I was away for a while, and now these insignificant pests are acting up.”
Sienna spoke nonchalantly, waving her hand lightly.
A fluttering sound filled the air, and translucent gray feathers seemed to melt into the letter on the desk.
“The liquid on the letter? Analyzing the magic, it contains the blood of our informants. They thought it was a threat, but leaving such a long trail won’t help them survive in the underworld.”
She said, retrieving several reagents from a drawer beneath the cupboard of tea leaves.
Mixing various substances in a small vial, she looked more like an alchemist or apothecary than an informant.
Siena’s talents were often overshadowed by her reputation as a witch and an informant, but she was far more versatile than people realized.
Having been abandoned in the lower streets as a child, she grew up with the help of various skilled individuals like Bjorn and Philopon.
”…Nox. Aheltar. Rimet.”
As she let the completed potion drip onto the letter, she finished her incantation. A vivid, sticky energy began to flow from the letter, tracing a line.
Though invisible to the eye, the line was clearly drawn in her mind, a loose curve that spiraled through the air and pointed beyond the door.
“It’s a tracking spell I improved with Shania’s help. If the blood is tainted with the drug, we can trace its trail for up to three days.”
“Are you planning to follow it right away?”
“Of course. I can’t let them get away after messing with my people.”
Dalen nodded and stood up. He tightened the straps of his armor, retied his boots, and secured his holy sword to his belt.
Siena, gathering a five-shot crossbow and a slender dagger, picked up the letter still pulsing with magic and said, “The last place the informants headed was the lower streets in the direction of the western district. It’s a border town between the western and southern districts. The dark mages must be holed up there.”
“The lower streets, huh.”
Dalen stroked his chin. It seemed he was in for a long-overdue visit to the sewers.
The great city of Falcion, imbued with the magic of transcendents, housed millions. Yet, even the magic of those who reached the sixth rank couldn’t comfortably accommodate everyone.
It was absurd to think medieval-level technology could solve problems that even 21st-century Earth couldn’t.
With the city divided into seven districts, it was inevitable that hundreds of thousands of vagrants would emerge.
Splash.
The place where these outcasts gathered was the lower streets, a slum formed from parts of the sewer, the most destitute area of the city.
”…Phew.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just the smell; I’ll get used to it soon. Was it always this bad?”
“Not sure. I haven’t been here long.”
“Ha, it feels like we’ve known each other forever.”
“You’re not wrong. The number of vagrants in the back alleys has increased several times recently.”
As they chatted, the ground sloped downward. They descended several meters underground, where sunlight couldn’t reach, and strange insects flitted over the trickling water.
Walking half a step ahead, Dalen suddenly sharpened his senses and took a deep breath.
The air was several times more foul than the stench of the back alleys. It wasn’t just an unpleasant smell; it was a toxic odor that clawed at his nose and lungs.
Amidst the stench of decaying waste and corpses, the sharp scent of drugs was unmistakable.
And within that mix…
‘Iron… scent?’
Detecting a faint metallic tang, Dalen instinctively raised an arm to shield Siena.
[Heh, you’re quick. Just a bit further, and it would have been perfect.]
A voice echoed, twisted and distorted, through the tangled passages of the lower streets.
[Well, no matter. Ending it here isn’t so bad. Even if the drama is lacking, I’m not a picky audience. Hehehe!]
The voice, warped by magic, reverberated endlessly through the corridors, losing all sense of direction.
Dalen quickly expanded his senses to locate the source of the unsettling voice.
”…Damn it.”
But instead of an unknown assailant, his senses picked up thousands of other presences.
”…Dalen?”
Siena, sensing his reaction, asked with a hint of tension. Dalen replied briefly.
“Siena, light.”
No further words were needed. Both understood the situation.
“Nox! Linux!”
With Siena’s incantation, the darkness within a hundred-meter radius was momentarily dispelled, revealing hidden presences that had been magically concealed.
Squeak! Squeak!
Realizing they’d been discovered, the shadows in the darkness stopped writhing and charged forward.
They were rats.
Thousands of them, ranging from the size of a forearm to as large as tigers, all twisted into various grotesque forms but sharing a few common traits.
Their fur was stiff and ash-gray like spikes.
Their eyes glinted red with gluttony.
And above their heads, a familiar notification window flickered:
[You have discovered the corpse of a beggar devoured by the Rats of the Dark Moon.]