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Chapter 18: Giant, Land of Opportunity (5)
“Ah, you’re here.”
Knowing there was only one Giant who would ever come looking for a shabby little shop like this, the elderly dwarf Menkes smiled warmly as a massive shadow fell across the entrance.
“Hello. I came as soon as I got your message.”
It was his second visit, yet the Giant youth—Rotem—still stepped inside with careful, restrained movements.
He hunched his broad shoulders tightly so as not to knock into the shelves, then slowly lowered himself into a seat opposite the dwarf.
“To get straight to the point, I wasn’t able to secure the full amount of goods you wanted. This was the limit.”
As he finished speaking, Menkes pulled out a large leather sack from beneath his seat—so big it was the size of his torso.
He loosened the opening slightly, and Rotem, after checking the contents, let out a short sigh and nodded.
“It can’t be helped. It was a sudden request.”
“Because of the timing, the guards are everywhere in Calpheon, and there are too many eyes watching.”
Menkes clicked his tongue in disappointment.
Rotem smiled faintly and pulled a small leather pouch from inside his clothes.
Menkes immediately understood what it was and pushed the pouch away with a rough gesture.
“No. I didn’t even secure all the goods, so I can’t take all the money! Put it away!”
“No, but a contract is still a contract—”
“I said no! I’ve been in this business for years. I’m not that shameless! I only take what I earn—that’s my principle!”
Realizing that pushing further would only harden the old dwarf’s stubbornness, Rotem had no choice but to step back.
However, he did not fully take the pouch back.
“Then how about this? Please accept this for now, and instead, could you do me one favor?”
“A favor?”
The dwarf’s eyes mixed suspicion with curiosity.
Seeing that reaction, Rotem gently placed the pouch of silver on the table.
“You mentioned earlier that because of the situation, security inside Calpheon has tightened.”
“Yes.”
“Is that ‘situation’ related to the northern plague?”
Rotem’s voice carried caution and tension.
Even though he had come through an introduction, he was still an outsider. Asking about internal affairs—while also buying suspicious black crystal fragments—could easily be misinterpreted.
But Menkes’ hesitation wasn’t due to suspicion of Rotem.
“…Hmm. If I had to say, it’s half and half. Even before the plague, protests had been ongoing inside the capital.”
“Protests… you mean the ones with people gathering in the slums?”
Rotem recalled what he had seen upon entering Calpheon.
“That’s right. Public anger toward the Calis Parliament, which the common citizens barely acknowledge at all.”
“And because the Elion Church-led response team can’t even control the plague, dissatisfaction has only grown.”
“I see…”
Rotem stroked his rough chin in thought.
After watching him for a moment, Menkes spoke carefully.
“So, what exactly is this favor you want from me?”
“Ah, well… it might be a sensitive request.”
Rotem hesitated, glancing around as if unsure how to phrase it.
But in reality, he wasn’t checking his surroundings. He was confirming something with the dark shadow only he could see.
“Is there any way to enter the plague zone… even unofficially?”
The old dwarf’s face, once curious, was instantly filled with shock.
“The plague zone… you mean the ‘Forsaken Land’?”
The so-called “ashen plague,” said to have begun in northwestern Calpheon.
It turned living flesh into ash-gray decay, and its spread had reached refugee camps.
To prevent it from reaching the capital, the parliament had completely sealed off the northwest region.
As a result, villages, farmlands, and refugee settlements there were abandoned—left only with infected lunatics and the dying.
Though the parliament claimed the quarantine had successfully prevented the spread, few believed them.
Menkes continued, warning him:
“Right now, only priests from the Elion Church or hired alchemists are allowed in.”
“Of course. Who would willingly go to a place like that? There’s nothing to gain, and if you get infected, you’re immediately marked for extermination.”
Menkes studied Rotem’s face.
His words weren’t just information—they were a warning.
But Rotem simply responded calmly.
“I know it’s dangerous. I know there’s nothing to gain.”
“Then why—”
“I’m not going for money. I received a request… no, a favor.”
“A favor?”
The dwarf frowned deeply.
Rotem then explained everything.
The refugee named Benjamin who had followed him after their first meeting.
The man’s family story.
And the rumors of Elion Church priests running a grotesque “hope scam” in the Forsaken Land and contaminated farms.
Rotem wasn’t judging truth or lies—he was simply relaying what he had heard.
When he finished, Menkes let out a long sigh.
“…So you’re saying you’re just going to crawl into the plague zone based on the words of some unknown man?”
“Something like that.”
Menkes scratched his messy hair in frustration.
“Let me be honest, Rotem. To me, you’re just a customer I met through an introduction. I don’t care if you go there and die.”
“But I’ll still give you advice. No matter how noble your intent is, going into the Forsaken Land right now is no different from suicide.”
“Yes, I understand—”
“No, you don’t.”
The dwarf’s gaze sharpened.
“That so-called ambition of yours—whether it’s alchemy or mercenary work—I don’t look down on it. But this is not something you can solve with a sword or bravado.”
“This is a plague even the greatest priests and alchemists of the Elion Church couldn’t understand. And you think a rookie alchemist can solve it alone?”
“……”
Rotem fell silent under the pressure of the old man’s words.
But he understood exactly why Menkes was reacting this way.
The Ashen Plague had once forced even the greatest experts of the age into failure.
To Menkes, Rotem must look like nothing more than a reckless young man declaring he would end a disaster he didn’t understand.
“I understand your concern. But you’re misunderstanding something.”
“Misunderstanding?”
Menkes frowned.
“Benjamin’s story is just insurance. A cover.”
“You mean… a story to protect yourself if things go wrong?”
“Yes. If I get caught entering the Forsaken Land, I risk not only infection but also being discovered by the Elion Church.”
“And claiming you entered to fulfill a request from a desperate refugee boy looking for his family would make it harder for them to interrogate further.”
Even Menkes wasn’t fully convinced yet.
“If that’s not your real reason… then why go into such a dangerous place?”
Before answering, Rotem looked at the dwarf carefully.
Unlike Tulkas, another dwarf he knew, Menkes didn’t hide his bluntness or roughness—but he still worried enough to stop a young Giant from walking into death.
“I’m not going there to treat the plague.”
“…Then why?”
Rotem finally made his conclusion clear.
“I’m going there to collect the plague.”
