Chapter 44
Exactly six days had passed since the expedition arrived in Zul-Bha-Sair.
“Hey! I told you to hold the top properly! You’re going to spill everything!”
“Y, yes!”
Following Frank’s instructions, Dexter carried a sack filled with dates toward the upper floor.
The others brought different supplies inside the inn.
One entire room assigned to the expedition was already more than half filled with those items.
Danforth watched the scene with a faint smile.
The innkeeper quietly approached him and asked,
“…Do you really need that many things to enter the underground cities?”
“That depends on why someone is going there.”
“Hmm… I’ve run this inn for several decades and seen many expeditions, but… this is the first time I’ve seen people prepare this thoroughly.”
“Ah, we’ve got one strange person in the expedition.”
“A strange person?”
Without explaining further, Danforth collected the remaining supplies brought by a cart and headed upstairs.
The items were neatly stacked in the room at the far left.
Danforth lightly wiped away his sweat and looked to the side.
He gestured toward Belvar, the dwarf overseeing the supplies.
“Looks like we gathered quite a lot… What do you think, old man? Still not enough?”
“Calling this fresh young elder an old man, what a rude brat.”
“…What is a fresh young elder supposed to mean? Dwarf humor?”
“Hmph. Something like that.”
Belvar looked through a small notebook that fit neatly in his hand.
After checking several things, he shrugged.
“This should be enough daily necessities… We’re still a little short on weapons, but the Were said they would make one more full sweep. Let’s wait for them.”
“What about the time related tools?”
“That’s Yohan’s responsibility. We already agreed there was nothing we could do if he couldn’t find one.”
“The mage district? Uel Ferda should be handling that.”
“Why do you keep asking only me? I’m just counting quantities. Everyone will return before dark anyway. Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Who says I’m in a hurry? I’m just checking things as a commander…”
“Of course he’s in a hurry.”
Frank appeared from behind them carrying an entire bundle of dried meat.
He stepped between the two.
“Our commander never managed to escape the underground cities before… He’s worried the same thing will happen again. That’s why he’s impatient.”
“…Stop talking nonsense and bring the rest of the meat, idiot!”
Just as Belvar predicted, everyone returned to the inn before sunset.
Vika Harad brought large containers filled with swords, spears, axes, clubs, and other weapons.
The Imperial Expedition returned with the remaining daily necessities and around fifteen bottles of the city’s special liquor.
The dwarf soldiers brought a map showing the general terrain of the underground cities, along with purification medicine.
Uel Ferda brought antidotes, several types of Magic Scrolls, and dozens of kilograms of Glowing Stones.
“There were endless items connected to corpses. We searched the warehouse more than three times just in case, but there wasn’t a single magic tool connected to time or hallucinations. Unfortunately.”
“B, but some of the s, scrolls are really u, useful!”
Albern and Aren defended themselves.
No one blamed them.
Everyone already knew those special tools were almost impossible to obtain.
As soon as the headcount was complete, they began dividing supplies among the expeditions.
Weapons and armor were distributed evenly.
The elves took responsibility for purification medicine and Magic Scrolls.
The dwarves handled food such as dates.
The Sapiens carried antidotes and other basic necessities.
The Were took the heaviest Glowing Stones and spare weapons.
By the time everything had been organized,
Yohan returned to the inn.
“It’s only a replica, so it can be used once… but that’s still better than having nothing.”
He was holding the magic tool known as the Fetish of the Black Pharaoh in both hands.
“Where in the world did you find that?”
“We searched the entire city and couldn’t find one…”
“If it isn’t inside the city, then you search outside the city.”
“Outside the city… Don’t tell me… the desert?!”
“How did you find something like that in that enormous empty desert?”
“Nyarlathotep’s magic tools tend to be compatible with me.”
The explanation made almost no sense.
Since the one speaking was Yohan, everyone simply accepted it.
Yohan briefly placed the statue on the floor.
Ominous mana slowly rose from it.
The nearby Glowing Stones reacted.
They briefly turned gray.
Then they began releasing emerald light.
Several weapons even began producing Aura.
“Something about it… makes me feel like I’m being pulled in just by looking…”
“I haven’t spoken the activation spell yet, so it shouldn’t be harmful.”
“……”
“…Probably?”
It was an iron statue shaped like a human.
Just as its name suggested, it was painted completely black.
It held something that could have been a flag, staff, or spear.
Mana flowed from that object.
Soon, it began hypnotizing the expedition members.
Their minds filled with the shape of the statue, its eyes, and the form of the One sleeping deep inside.
A grotesque, long creature that was almost nothing but a maw filled their thoughts.
Those overwhelmed by fear tightly shut their eyes.
Their entire bodies trembled.
“A, AAAAAARGH!”
“Wh, what is it?!”
“A m, monster! There’s a monster at the window!”
More than ten expedition members began screaming at things that were not there.
Some even fainted.
Several unaffected members tried calming them.
But once their minds were completely filled with His image, bringing them back to sanity was not easy.
With no other option, Albern and Belvar used magic to put all of them to sleep.
Only then did the situation calm down.
Throughout the entire incident, Yohan did nothing.
He finally picked up the statue with one hand.
Then he covered it with a thick gray cloth placed nearby.
“If a replica is enough to make you faint, maybe you should end your journey here. You might go permanently insane before the real thing, don’t you think?”
Yohan placed the magic tool inside his clothes and stood.
“Leave those idiots there. Let’s go downstairs. I feel like drinking for the first time in a while.”
“……”
“Anyone not interested can stay here.”
Despite the city’s cold and gloomy appearance,
the taverns of Zul-Bha-Sair were surprisingly noisy and lively.
The atmosphere was similar to what they had experienced in the Holy Land of Karaam, perhaps even more energetic.
Besides the expedition members, many residents and other outsiders filled the seats.
The tavern was located underground.
Its menu contained only simple snacks and three kinds of alcohol.
Yet the atmosphere was far warmer than the quality of its menu suggested.
“That just shows how rare places like this are. Places where you can relax and enjoy a drink.”
At first, several people complained that there was no time for drinking.
They said the preparations were already complete and they should immediately descend.
But the warm atmosphere and strange feeling of safety naturally pulled them into their seats.
After a few rounds of drinks, everyone blended into the tavern and began talking loudly.
The general lightly poured a strong drink into his mouth.
Then he looked at Yohan, who was drinking alcohol without touching any snacks.
“Unexpected. I never thought I’d hear the Mad Savior suggest stopping for a drink.”
“If that man had lived that long without even one form of entertainment, he really would have gone completely insane.”
“…Traveling with him seems to have changed your opinion, Isabella.”
Isabella flinched.
After drinking half of her own strong liquor, she hurriedly waved her hands.
“Not at all! Absolutely not! Do you know how many times I almost died because of him in the Dark Cave? I’m completely sick of him!”
She finished the rest of her alcohol and shuddered dramatically.
At another table, members of all four races had gathered together for a beer drinking contest.
Dexter acted as the host.
“This is an incredible sight in a different way.”
A satisfied old voice came from below.
It was Belvar.
“Don’t you agree, General?”
“…Indeed.”
“Oh? Polite speech. Unlike that rude Danforth brat, you seem to be a young man who understands manners.”
“I may actually be older than you.”
Belvar burst into laughter.
He dragged over a dwarf sized chair and sat down.
“Well, what does it matter? Whether you’ve lived hundreds of years or a thousand, a sight like this is rare. Everyone struggles to survive both inside and outside the Dungeon, so why is something possible here that seems impossible outside? Tch.”
Belvar swallowed his drink.
Kalkelak refilled the dwarf’s cup and answered.
“The difference is probably our main enemy. In the Dark Lands, we see each other as enemies. Inside the Dungeon, our main enemies are the Inner Gods and their Apostles.”
“I don’t know. From where I stand, I see no reason for us to hate one another in either world. You know it too. The more divided we become, the more those beings benefit.”
“I know. But people fight anyway. Another lifeform struggling for survival right in front of you looks far easier to deal with than an unstoppable disaster.”
“Your tone sounds strangely bitter. Is that disappointment toward the Were race?”
“…Who knows.”
Neither continued.
They simply exchanged drinks.
Both understood that further conversation would only make the mood more bitter.
Some tables held serious conversations like theirs.
Most were simply noisy and friendly.
Unity between races that could never be seen outside was happening inside the tavern.
Dexter, who had declared himself the entertainment manager, recklessly encouraged competition between the races and organized drinking contests.
Isabella became involved after Aren provoked her.
Several tables soon became a complete mess.
Aren unexpectedly turned out to be the strongest drinker among Uel Ferda.
He ended up in a fierce contest against Rodur from the dwarves, Kanfel from the Were, and Frank from the Sapiens.
While the drinking competition continued on one side,
a heavily drunk Danforth and several others began telling everyone what had happened in the Black Magic Cult village.
They burst into tears.
Remembering Nuadillen’s sacrifice, the elf expedition members joined them.
Soon, that entire side of the tavern became a sea of crying people.
The dwarves and Were, races naturally strong against alcohol, gathered together.
They drank strong liquor while sharing stories of glorious battles from the past.
The late night party showed no sign of ending.
Around the time conversation turned toward the frozen land of the thirty third floor and its ruler, the White Silence,
Creeeeak.
Someone walked down the stairs and pushed open the rotating door.
“Innkeeper! Give us seats for five!”
It was Serden, the bandit leader.
Earlier that day, before sunset, he and his subordinates had attacked visitors near the city entrance, killed them, and stolen their belongings.
