Chapter 239

  Monster Nest

  The three servants of Junnaveil looked at her, and Connie resignedly gave an answer.

  “Yes. My purpose in visiting the Inner Sanctum is Dauthisaz. I need it for my plans in the future,” she said, revealing none of her true intent. She did not want to risk telling them about receiving a quest from the Dark-Mother. Who knew how it would be seen from the perspectives of believers of Junnaveil?

  “Are you working under the Royal Family?” Hastings asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. None of the upper echelon of the Church had a favorable impression of the King and his family, as the Church had slowly had their influence and power taken away by them. “Will you take the armor and present it to the King?”

  “Hah!” The dwarf, Orgrin, scowled at the mention of the Calendian King. “If yer givin’ my child to those craven backstabbers, I’d much rather have it destroyed!”

  “Why do you call the Royal Family so?” Millicent asked, surprised by his ire.

  “What else would I call kinsmen who abandoned their King in his hour of need?!” Orgrin harrumphed.

  Connie chuckled. “Rest assured, Lord Orgrin. I will not leave the armor to the Royal Family,” she said in amusement. “It will be mine.”

  “Outrageous!” Hastings exclaimed. “You would take an Artifact at the level of a National Treasure and claim it for your own?!”

  “Yes. Of course. And why wouldn’t I? This is, after all, a Dungeon. And Dauthisaz is the loot. Such is the rule of Dungeon Raiding. Furthermore, I have been promised a prize if I help destroy the Dungeon—witnessed by the former Maiden of Water, mind you.”

  “Your… Eminence?” the young woman with wheat-colored hair voiced, unsure of what to do.

  Instead of answering the two Unrestrained Candidates, Connie threw a look at Allenca, who was still processing her thoughts. “You have promised me a prize if I help you destroy the Dungeon Core. Dauthisaz shall be my prize.”

  “I… cannot make a decision… right now. Dauthisaz… holds too much importance for the Kingdom… regardless of our position.”

  “Oh? …are you going to go back on your word…,” Connie’s eyes gazed past the agitated Millicent toward Allenca. “…Maiden of Water?” She no longer used her name—only her title. The title under which she had made her promise.

  Sensing the hostility she exuded, Millicent and Hastings stepped forward to block Connie from her sight, their weapons drawn. In response, Akula took out her Sukheri.

  “Let’s not be too hasty, everyone,” the scruffy Paladin said, trying to de-escalate the situation, though his left hand was positioned near a small pouch hidden in his pocket.

  The two sides stared at each other, eyes unmoving from their opponents. It became so quiet that they could hear each other’s breathing.

  The tension was palpable.

  Connie stood there with her arms clasped behind her back. Allenca slightly shrank under the gaze of her deep blue eyes. They were cold—like steel brushing against her neck.

  Allenca’s mind stirred in a flurry. The new information she had received was surprising, to say the least. Who would have thought that the armor of the First King would be here? Did her mentor know? If so, why had she not told her? Questions flooded her mind. However, the one thing she knew for a fact was that the girl in the Centipede Robe was someone who had managed to destroy the status quo that had stood for hundreds of years in the few weeks she had been in Grottenstadt.

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  She was the most reliable person when she was an ally—but the most dangerous opponent she would ever face if she chose to be her enemy.

  Allenca opened her mouth. “Dauthisaz… is your prize, as I have promised.”

  “Your Eminence!” Hastings protested unwillingly.

  “Swear it in the name of Junnaveil,” Connie said. Words sworn in the name of their God were binding—especially to members of the Church. And she had little desire to have people who might stab her in the back accompany her.

  Their relationship was one of give and take, and she knew that the Maiden understood it too.

  “I swear in the name of Junnaveil,” Allenca spoke, without her usual verbal tic.

  “Are you sure… Your Eminence?” Millicent asked worriedly.

  “It is… a fitting price. Rather than an armor, the safety of our believers and our holy land… is of greater importance.”

  “A good decision,” Connie said. There was no smugness in her voice, nor the look of a victor. It was simply a statement.

  “Now, shall we proceed?”

  After the tense back-and-forth, the group walked on with a sense of awkwardness among them. The silence was so suffocating that Orgrin, unable to endure the atmosphere, sidled up to Millicent. It was a strange experience for the Church Knight—to be able to hear and respond to a voice, yet not see the person speaking. After a brief exchange, the dwarf exclaimed:

  “A Weltraum girl? Today is full of surprises! It gladdens this old heart to see the descendants of old friends still thriving,” he guffawed. “Speaking of which, I noticed the sword in yer possession. Well-balanced, and a masterful engraving… elf-made?”

  Millicent nodded. “It’s an heirloom of the Weltraum family. We had to change the hilt after my grandfather broke it during a battle with a Troll Chief. But the blade itself is still the very one the Elven King, Elgrin Linden Fordan, gifted my ancestor before returning to their Forest.”

  “Huh, so he did it. That ol’ namby-pamby,” Orgrin sighed with nostalgia. “The hilt changed, but the blade stays the same. If only Dauthisaz could be the same.”

  “You know, I’ve been wondering. Why did you hide Dauthisaz here?” Akula suddenly asked. She wiped her hooves on a rock after stepping on something sticky. “Seems like an odd place to hide that sort of thing.”

  At those words, Orgrin’s face darkened. “…I guess you all should know the truth. You’re going to be riskin’ your lives for it.” He closed his eyes and continued. “Many years ago, after we brought Aaron’s body back from the Frontline, we realized that the resentment of the thousands of demons slain by the First King had turned into a powerful curse that corrupted the armor.”

  “The curse was so strong that even the Maiden of Water could not cleanse it,” he paused. “Then the wee lass created a plan to purify it by placing it in a Holy Ground. However, not even a hundred years later, the power of Divinity that was supposed to cleanse the armor’s curse began to diminish.” He sighed helplessly. “Being a ghost, I could only watch as, over the years, the taint grew more powerful—so much that it twisted the mana around it, resulting in this blasted Dungeon being created.”

  “How could the Faith let it go this far?” Nick asked, earning a sharp look from Millicent.

  “Because they don’t know. The wee lass and I decided to keep the location a secret, to protect it from greedy bastards.”

  “And we’re the greedy bastards who’re going to steal it from under your nose,” Connie quipped.

  “Right y’are, lassie. And I cannae do nothin’ but watch,” the dwarf replied with a smile that contrasted his words. He missed the days when he would banter with his comrades on a long march. They were gone now—long gone.

  Behind them, Allenca bit her lip. Is this the fault of the Church? Has the rot gnawing at the root of the Faith been part of the cause that made the Divinity meant to cleanse the First King’s armor lose its power?

  She could not utter a word and kept her questions in her heart.

  “Ah, it’s been so long…,” the dwarf said with a mirthful chuckle. “So long since I died that I’ve lost count of the exact years.” His eyes looked far away. “How long has it been since our expedition was chased out of the Demon Continent?”

  “Give or take a few hundred years,” Connie commented. “Long enough for the First King’s name to be forgotten, and for Calendia to fester like an old wound left untreated.”

  “Have we regained ground?”

  “Hard to say. We are advancing, yes. But at the same time, the Demons have begun corrupting our own.” Nick then summarized what had been happening in the outside world, including the recent betrayal of the Kingdom of Vorzenny. When he finished, the dwarf’s face was scrunched into a deep frown.

  “Argh! All those sacrifices… for naught? So many years and still we’re powerless! If it wasn’t for those damned backstabbers—!”

  Then they heard the sound of rocks rolling a few meters ahead.

  Hastings, who had kept his silence since they resumed their march, clenched his fists. The golden rings on his fingers morphed into a pair of golden gauntlets brimming with mana.

  He walked to the front and thrust his hand into the gloom. He grabbed a struggling lizard monster and crushed its head.

  “They’re coming!”