Chapter 5
The territory controlled by the Sapien faction lay in the southwest.
Danforth had chased all his subordinates away and sent them back to their quarters, leaving only Dexter behind.
Then, without giving him any chance to argue, he grabbed Dexter and dragged him all the way into the expedition camp.
Dexter complained the entire way, grumbling about how unfairly he was being treated, but none of it worked on Danforth.
It was still early dawn, so there wasn't a single person wandering around inside the camp.
Only after reaching the expedition leader's private room, located beyond the meeting hall, did Danforth finally stop.
"Cough, cough! I thought my neck was going to come off... Waaagh?!"
Dexter had barely gotten his neck free and was coughing when Danforth grabbed him by the collar again.
His eyes sharpened.
"Why was the Mad Savior with you? What the hell happened while you were gone?!"
"Kgh! Kegh! At least let go before we talk, please!"
Reports of sightings had continued to appear, even if they were separated by gaps of more than ten years.
Because of that, Danforth had never believed that the Mad Savior was merely a false legend created by rumors.
Even so, people who had heard the stories—including Danforth himself—had treated him almost like a ghost.
There was a simple reason.
The sightings stretched across more than two hundred years.
And almost every record of his appearance had been limited to the Darklands.
Unless only his spirit remained behind and continued saving humans, there was no reasonable way to explain either the length of his activity or the vast area he wandered through.
Of course, Danforth himself was only a youngster in his mid-thirties.
Compared to those who had barely passed twenty, he was a veteran by far, but when it came to Johan and the old legend surrounding him, Danforth knew almost nothing.
Still, there was one thing he believed.
Nothing was impossible in the Darklands.
And there was no such thing as a creature that could not exist here.
He had learned that painfully well during his two previous expeditions.
He had seen more than enough proof with his own eyes.
In that case...
Was it really so impossible that a living human had survived for more than two hundred years and continued saving people in some strange way?
With that thought in mind, Danforth decided to quietly listen to Dexter's story first.
There were only a few days left before they entered the dungeon anyway.
Their detailed expedition plan had already been completed.
Surely, spending a little attention on Johan during these few remaining days wouldn't cause any problems for their journey.
At least, that was how Danforth justified it to himself as he listened.
The thought that an ancient legend of humanity might actually be real filled him with excitement.
"...So I just followed him along. If I'd stayed there, magical beasts would've come after the smell of the corpses. But if I'd moved around alone, I wasn't confident I'd reach the Holy Land alive. You would've done the same thing, Captain. Seriously, the outside is freaking terrifying."
"I wouldn't go outside alone in the first place, you idiot."
Whack!
"Aaaaaagh!"
After smacking Dexter hard on the head, Danforth asked,
"So that's all? The elves tricked you and nearly turned you into a sacrifice, but you miraculously survived? Johan just happened to save you?"
Dexter rubbed his head.
"Ugh... Captain, you saw his face earlier when he ripped that Were's stomach open! That man is a creature that feeds on fear! I'm telling you, some terrifying Inner God must have chosen him. Something like the Crawling Mist!"
"...The Crawling Mist."
The moment Dexter spoke a name that should never have been mentioned, Danforth's expression turned cold.
"Let's stop that conversation right there, Dexter. Nothing good comes from speaking the name of that blasphemous being."
"...Ah."
Dexter hurriedly covered his mouth with both hands.
Seeing that, Danforth's expression slowly relaxed.
He continued.
"Now then. Let's assume the Mad Savior isn't a ghost, but a living, breathing human... Why did he come to the Holy Land? Especially after staying away for years?"
Dexter remained silent.
"No... does a man like that even have something you'd call a goal? He's been wandering through the Darklands for over two hundred years, repeatedly saving people."
It was closer to Danforth talking to himself than actually asking Dexter a question.
Dexter stared blankly for a moment, then rubbed his mouth before his eyes suddenly lit up.
"Hmm... Maybe he's under some kind of restriction? Most apostles of the Old Ones are like that, aren't they?"
"What Old One would place a restriction saying, 'Save humans'? If it was 'Kill humans,' then maybe."
"Ah... I guess you're right. Then why does he do it? Someone strong enough to kill that tough Were like it was a baby went out of his way to save someone like me too..."
"Exactly."
Several interesting theories came to Danforth's mind, but none of them had enough evidence behind them.
And thinking about it any longer wasn't going to magically give him an answer.
Danforth stood with a quiet sigh and looked behind him.
"Well, he said he'd stop by our territory soon. For now, I suppose we'll have to wait."
"Do you really think Senior Johan will show up again?"
"The fact that he entered the Holy Land at this particular time means he probably has business with the dungeon too. He won't be able to enter the dungeon alone, so he'll look for people to join him. Naturally, he'd approach his own kind first."
"Ohhh... That does make sense! Someone as powerful as Senior Johan would definitely be a huge help, right?"
"We'll have to see about that... But what's with that weird way you're addressing him? 'Senior'? Was that guy part of an expedition too?"
Dexter suddenly looked awkward.
"Th-There's a reason for that. It's dangerous to know too much, Captain."
"...Sigh. Forget it. I shouldn't have asked."
At the same time.
After causing such a huge commotion and then disappearing without a trace, Johan Blake had headed toward the center of the Holy Land.
"..."
An unpleasant silence ruled the city.
Dark clouds covered the sky, painting everything in shades of gray.
The streets were filled with a horrible stench created by the mixture of drunkards' vomit and the disgusting traces left behind by worshippers.
Blood and filth had splattered across the outer walls of the wooden buildings standing everywhere.
In the past, this level of contamination would have immediately led to a massive cleaning and purification effort.
Now, no one even cared.
That was the current state of the Holy Land, Karaam.
Even compared to Johan's previous visit, the difference was obvious.
Everything had become far dirtier.
More corrupted.
More unpleasant.
And yet Johan's expression didn't change in the slightest as he walked.
He had killed his senses and emotions in order to survive.
For a very, very long time.
To Johan, even the changed scenery and foul smell of this place might as well have been colorless and odorless.
Step.
Step.
The closer he came to the center, the heavier the sinister atmosphere became.
He could feel something pulsing beneath the ground.
Beings that fed upon the screams and despair of living creatures were waiting for them below, crying out for hopelessness.
