Chapter 3
“Sheesh. This is exactly why I call you rookies!”
“But, Captain!”
“The Great Relic, my ass. Do you seriously think something that ridiculous actually exists? Huh?”
After snapping at the youngsters, the man reached out with his rough hand and snatched up his glass.
Danpos Corsi.
He was an expedition captain from Askartier, an empire that boasted a long and proud history.
And the people sitting around him were members of the 116th Expeditionary Force.
Gulp, gulp.
“Khhhaa!”
That was already his fifth drink.
After once again being the first to empty his glass, Danpos slammed a hand against the table and shouted.
“A holy relic that can grant any wish? Bullshit. There’s no such thing. It’s nothing more than bait to lure dreamers like you into joining expeditions.”
“No… but then…!”
“Are you saying all those legends and historical records… are fake?”
The people gathered around the bar table were discussing two things.
The Dungeon.
And the Great Relic.
“This is your first time at the Holy Land, right? All of you?”
“……”
“I know things aren’t much different here than they are in the Empire or any of the other Sapien nations. That’s probably why you applied for the expedition, hoping to grab onto even the thinnest thread of hope. Right? I can tell just by looking at your damn faces.”
“……”
“Now then… why did you apply? There can be all kinds of reasons. Maybe you need money. Maybe you want status or honor for your family. Could even be religious reasons, though that’s rare.”
Among the silent group, Danpos raised his voice even more.
“But if you came here because you want some wish granted… I’m warning you. Give up. That dream is something you can never reach. It’s a pit that’ll swallow your life whole.”
At least, that was what Danpos had learned during his previous two visits.
There was no hope left in this world anymore.
It probably wouldn’t even take very long.
In another twenty years, the Four Great Powers would likely collapse completely.
And among them, humanity would probably be the first to break.
After more than a hundred expeditions, mankind had already reached a conclusion.
There was no hope outside.
And there was no hope inside the Dungeon either.
But perhaps that was precisely why there were still people willing to challenge it.
Strange individuals who were prepared to cling desperately to even the smallest possibility as long as there was still a tiny gap left.
Naturally, people like that couldn’t help but become interested in a miraculous object said to grant anything its owner desired.
Seeing them like this reminded Danpos so much of himself during his first expedition that he almost found it ridiculous.
Of course, he had neither the intention nor the right to stop them.
“Well, if you want to get drunk on your own dreams and shorten your lifespan, do whatever the hell you want. Just don’t get in my way. Don’t end up like that idiot Dexter. Got it?”
The moment their companion’s name came up, one of his subordinates slammed the table.
“That coward Dexter went outside alone? Is that true?”
“How the hell should I know? I’m only saying it because nobody’s seen him since the day before yesterday. Wherever he went, if he left the Holy Land alone, he’s not coming back. Unless he happens to run into some crazy savior, that is.”
As their conversation continued, another round of drinks was already being poured.
“A crazy savior? What’s that supposed to mean…?”
“There is one. A ghost-like bastard who wanders all over the Darklands.”
“Hey, you seriously don’t know? Johan! The Mad Savior! He’s some mysterious human who’s supposedly survived in the Darklands for more than two hundred years!”
“…More than two hundred years? How?”
“See? This guy only knows magic. He doesn’t know a damn thing about anything else.”
“Then stop complaining and explain it! Who the hell is Johan?”
“Well, a long time ago…”
Just as the appearance of a new topic was about to ignite the conversation again—
“Chatter, chatter, chatter. You filthy, inferior humans are damn noisy.”
A deep, rough voice filled with murderous intent came from the opposite side.
At the blatant provocation, Danpos and his subordinates all turned to the left at once.
Three beasts were sitting there, slowly sipping strong liquor brewed from the bones of magical beasts.
“Inferior humans? Was that directed at us?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you even know who we are?”
“Why would I need to know what humans do?”
The giant didn’t flinch in the slightest at Danpos’s sharp words.
Instead, he pushed his massive body upright and strode toward them.
Sharp mane-like fur covered his shoulders and chest, while reddish-brown light gleamed from his eyes.
They were members of an ancient race that had taken root in the Darklands long before humanity ever arrived.
The Werebeasts—Were.
One of the Four Great Powers, as well as the largest faction among them.
“Captain, it’s a Were! We should probably avoid getting too close—!”
“Enough. Stay back.”
Ignoring his subordinate’s warning, Danpos glared at the Were approaching him.
“Listening to the garbage coming out of an inferior race is making my ears itch. How about shutting the hell up?”
“You want only us to stay quiet in this huge tavern? Because we’re human?”
“Kukuku. You understand pretty quickly for an inferior species. You must be their captain, huh? Then persuade your subordinates properly. Before I make them shut up myself.”
“…Why don’t you try, mongrel?”
Crack.
At the blatant insult, the Were momentarily wondered whether he had picked a fight with someone he shouldn’t have.
A human.
A member of the weakest faction.
Yet this human had dared to call a Were a mongrel.
He didn’t seem ignorant enough not to know what that word meant.
Was he truly that confident?
“…I’ll give you one chance to take that back, Sapien.”
“Why? You said you’d shut me up. Can’t do it?”
“Don’t regret this, Sapien. You brought this upon yourself.”
No.
There was no way.
At a glance, this human was obviously nothing more than a worm putting on a brave front.
The Were soon threw away his doubts and freely released his killing intent.
Aura began wrapping itself around his entire body.
So even an idiot Were is still a Were, huh? At least when it comes to Aura, they really are naturally gifted.
Danpos clicked his tongue and placed a hand near his waist.
“I’d rather not show everything I can do outside the Dungeon.”
Even while saying that, his eyes moved rapidly as he searched for a way to seize the advantage.
There were three enemy Were.
The other two didn’t seem interested in what was happening over here at all.
But that was only because they trusted their fellow Were.
The moment an inferior race managed to injure one of their brethren, the fight would immediately change from one-on-one to many-versus-many.
His own expedition members might have been crazy enough to risk their lives chasing some fake legend, but precisely because of that, there was no doubt about their abilities.
There were eight of them on Danpos’s side.
With this many fighters, they could hold their own against dozens of magical beasts.
Three Were were nothing they couldn’t handle.
Neither Danpos nor the Were who had picked the fight showed the slightest intention of backing down.
And then—
Creeeak—
The tavern’s main doors behind them were pushed wide open.
Two humans entered.
Johan Blake.
And Dexter Boyle.
The Sapien and the Were were locked in a confrontation.
The humans looked tense.
The other two Were watched the scene with amused expressions.
Meanwhile, the other races in the tavern showed little interest in the commotion taking place in the center.
The moment Johan entered, he understood the situation.
Without even sparing the Were a glance, he walked directly toward Danpos.
