Episode 490
Ian’s proposal made the Dera tribe exchange wary glances. Then, as if wordlessly agreeing, they gathered in a tight circle, heads close together.
Whispers and snorts—more like grunts disguised as speech—fluttered back and forth. The raucous noise from Beric’s loud singing and hammering drowned out their words, but Ian could guess the gist.
“Giving up the Dripper? Why?”
“Seems like they want something in return. Never seen anyone on the government’s payroll offer something out of pure goodwill.”
“It’s been around so long, we need to see its condition first. It’s one of the earliest Drippers, after all.”
“Fixing it won’t take long. No problem, as long as the shape’s intact.”
“They said they’ll help with materials, too. Maybe we should just take it for now. We’re not making only Drippers with it.”
“Hmm. But what do they want in return? I don’t like this.”
“Maybe they want us out of Rajasan?”
“What? Why?”
“They want the Dryads and to develop this place!”
“If that’s the case, I’m totally against it! I’d rather start from scratch—”
“It’s not like that.”
“Ugh!”
Ian slipped in quietly, whispering something. The Dera tribe gasped and broke apart, clearly surprised. They hadn’t expected him to add that.
Ian smiled faintly and shook the hammer again, signaling his intentions.
“Do you know the political situation centered around Bariel and Burgos?”
“Of course not!”
With a dramatic thud, the Dera tribe answered boldly.
“The emperor has passed away?”
“Wow. He lived a long time. So he’s gone now?”
“When the ruler changes, the political landscape shifts drastically. A war between Bariel and Burgos is inevitable. And beyond that, even further north.”
After Burgos comes Toolun—a land swallowed by the shadow of the gods. That darkness must be driven out. Ian hoped to avoid war, but was it even possible?
No. Ian drew a firm line.
“Faith and love—they’re what drive humans to death. The intersection of those two is religion. It won’t be easy.”
“The north? You mean the monster-infested lands?”
“I can’t say much now, but the key is that Bariel needs more advanced forces. Not just a few special talents like magic swordsmen, but a large army capable of support.”
“Ah!”
The Dera tribe blinked at the hammer.
“You want us to make hammers?”
“Is it a special material? I heard it knocked Beric out in just two hits. That’s unusual, so I’m very interested in your weapons.”
“Hmm. You could say it’s special. Ian, are you human?”
“Yes.”
“Then, excuse me!”
Klang!
Pim lightly tapped Ian’s shoulder.
The sound echoed clearly through the tunnel. Beric, who had been singing, paused and turned toward Ian, then noticed the hammer resting on his shoulder. One second, two seconds, three seconds.
“Hey! You crazy bastard!”
Beric lunged forward, ready to unleash his magic, but Ian calmly motioned him to stop.
“It’s fine, Beric. It doesn’t hurt.”
“What?”
“I barely felt anything.”
“But I heard a clang! A damn loud clang!”
Ian smiled as if to say it was true. He’d suspected it wasn’t an ordinary weapon, but this was beyond that.
Pim spun the hammer lightly and gave Beric the middle finger—like, come at me if you dare.
“The problem started with the Dryads. Cutting down trees causes them to scream so loud it tears eardrums, but worse, you lose the next year’s fruit.”
“Does it only work on other species?”
“Yes. The Dera tribe’s pride is on the line—we can even say it can take down dragons.”
“So, did you know Beric was a different species?”
“No idea. Why would I care? I only used it as a threat against humans, but it felt better than I expected.”
Hmm. Ian propped his chin on his hand, pretending to ponder.
Actually, it was good news. If ordinary soldiers could stand against monsters, the empire’s people could protect themselves better.
But Ian sighed, a little troubled, and the Dera tribe twitched their noses, sensing the change.
“If you want, we can forge regular weapons, too. Our swords and shields are the best on the continent.”
“Sorry, but the imperial blacksmiths are just as skilled as you.”
Ian’s answer made the Dera tribe wave their short arms in displeasure. Who did he think he was comparing?
“That’s nonsense! Show me, then!”
“Is that so? Then let’s prioritize supplying weapons for other species first, then regular weapons. I want to deliver the Dripper myself, but I’m heading north, not to the capital. Soon, the imperial investigation team will be sent here. How about meeting them and going to the capital together?”
The smooth suggestion made the Dera tribe hesitate. So, what was the deal? Deliver a Dripper plus weapons for other species and regular ones?
“Of course, we’ll pay a fair price and provide the necessary materials. Details should be discussed in the capital, not here. You’ll want to see the Dripper with your own eyes, right?”
“Ahem. Well, yes, but…”
They felt oddly like they were losing out. They twiddled their thick fingers, weighing the Dripper, materials, and what they’d have to give up. Was it really balanced?
“Then it’s settled. Write a letter for me. Lend me paper and pen. When the investigation team arrives, show it to them and accompany them. Who will go? Pim?”
Ian took the pen the Dera tribe handed him and raised an eyebrow. Some of them poked Pim’s side, and Pim reluctantly agreed. Since he’d brought an outsider, he’d take responsibility to the end.
“Right. Should I go ahead to the capital?”
“I won’t take long either. If timing works out, we might arrive around the same day.”
“What’s the reason for going north?”
“To meet a comrade.”
Ian muttered as he wrote a short letter. It requested the imperial magic department minister to treat the Dera tribe with utmost sincerity during their dealings. Pim pocketed the note and asked,
“A comrade? Are there really comrades up north? Well, you do carry that thing around.”
He didn’t know the mages were in the northern region, so it was a genuine question. Pim glanced at Beric, and the meaning got lost in translation.
“That thing? Did you just call me that?”
“Yeah. You dumb mug! If I hit you with the hammer, you wouldn’t make a sound. Just your attitude’s annoying.”
“Come here, I’m gonna try killing a mole for the first time today.”
“Two hits knocked you out, right? What if you get hit three times?”
“If you want to fight, take it outside! There are plenty of things being forged here!”
“Beric! Just keep singing, okay?”
“Hey! Let go of me!”
As Beric and Pim started to brawl, the Dera tribe jumped in, tangling them up. It was hard to tell if they were breaking it up or just playing along.
Ian clicked the pocket watch he’d bought at the market, checking the time. Being inside the tunnel dulled his senses. Even just a few dozen meters in felt strange, let alone the eerie sensation he’d felt in the abyss.
Realizing more time had passed than he thought, Ian stood.
“Beric. Are you sober now?”
“Sober? I’m pissed off because of this idiot, so yeah! Why?”
“Because it’s time to head north. I’m not in great shape, so we need to move quickly.”
At Ian’s call, Beric stopped the scuffle and slung his bag back over his shoulder.
The Dera tribe gathered around. Except for the pickpockets, it had been a long time since they’d had visitors in the tunnels, and they said their reluctant goodbyes.
“Leaving already?”
“Have some more drinks before you go.”
“If the deal goes through, we’ll see each other again in the capital. I’ll raise a glass then.”
“Going ahead! Ian, piggyback!”
Beric hoisted Ian onto his back and stomped the path upward.
“And fix the entrance while you’re at it. This is why we keep getting robbed by those worthless pests. Tsk tsk.”
“Get lost, idiot.”
“Yeah, take care, moron.”
Beric and Pim exchanged middle fingers, neither backing down. Ian calmly raised his wrist.
“Thanks for the healing. See you soon.”
“Hmph. Manage your subordinates better.”
Swoosh!
Pim tossed a hammer to Ian. Beric flinched, nearly getting hit in the head, and turned away. Ian caught it easily.
“It’s a sample. We don’t know who’ll arrive first, so take it with you.”
“Thanks.”
Ian waved with a smile, and the Dera tribe waved back.
Beric sprinted up the steep slope with energy. In the distance, the white moon began to rise.
“Beric. Remember where you tied the horses?”
“Of course!”
Beric answered confidently and leapt toward the moon. But after just a few steps, Ian turned his face and corrected his direction.
“…Not there. Here.”
“Captain Hale!”
A rough beard and freshly cropped hair. Hale turned toward the voice, a cigarette dangling from his lips. It was one of his subordinates.
They stood atop a makeshift barrier in the northern monster-infested zone. Beyond the wall, smoke curled faintly in the distance—surely the breath of monsters seeping from the rift, or perhaps the Atan tribe roasting monster meat.
Whatever it was, the situation was far from ordinary, yet Hale felt a strange, monotonous peace. It was one of those moments that reminded him anew how adaptable humans truly are.
“Why?”
“Why? You’re asking why? What time is it, and you’re still puffing on that cigarette? Seriously, I should be the one coming to relieve you! The others have been waiting for the captain forever!”
“Ah, has it gotten that late already?”
“This is crazy, really.”
“Hearing you say that, you sound just like Akorella.”
“If Captain Akorella were here, you wouldn’t be leisurely smoking like that. You know that, right?”
Hale didn’t deny it. He took a drag from his cigarette and headed down from the barrier. Bariel soldiers, fully armed, packed the area in front of the temporary wall.
The northern rift zone was so vast and ancient that the Magic Department couldn’t oversee it all. So, they divided it into sections and focused control on areas with unusual activity.
In other words, monsters could spawn from the rift beneath the barrier at any time, and the Atan tribe might launch surprise attacks targeting those monsters.
Crackling.
As Hale descended, a foul, indescribable stench and heat rose up. Far off, a soft amber glow spread out—the mages were using Idgal to regulate the rift’s magic.
“The control range hasn’t changed in nearly two weeks.”
“We’re short on Idgal. By the way, Captain, what’s going on with you lately? You seem distracted, like you can’t focus.”
“Ah—”
Hale flicked away his spent cigarette and replied.
“Is it just me, or have things felt… off these past few days?”
“Off how?”
“I don’t know. Something… well, I can’t quite put it into words.”
“This is driving me nuts. Must be a side effect of the cigarettes.”
Though his subordinate teased him, Hale just smiled. What could he do? It was true—this strange sensation was hard to explain. His sixth sense was sending signals, but the source was elusive.
After all, who could have imagined that Ian had returned after ten years, and that he was heading this way? Hale’s keen instincts only brushed against a vague, yet unmistakably familiar shadow.