FSFSLU 29

chapter 29

Isabel lay with her soft, relaxed face resting on Liz’s thigh.

Liz hadn’t wanted this either, but what could she do? Isabel had tried to flop onto the floor.

Ignoring Liz’s anxious thoughts, Isabel seemed to simply enjoy the firmness of Liz’s thigh.

“Hehe.”

“Ha, this isn’t the time for this…”

Gott, looking puzzled, asked Liz,

“Miss, what do you mean by ‘a big deal’?”

“The old man said it earlier! Gerolt went out at dawn with his subordinates.”

“R-right. He took pickaxes and shovels and climbed the mountain. But why…”

When Liz had been knocked out during the ambush, her consciousness had been hazy, so she hadn’t fully heard the conversation between Gerolt and Dyke. But she remembered parts clearly.

The reason Gerolt gave Isabel a “until morning” time limit was to manipulate her actions under that constraint. No doubt, Isabel had done something secretly during the night. That’s why she was now drowsy.

To understand Gerolt’s intentions, they needed to know what Isabel had done the previous night.

“Isabel! Isabel! What did you do last night?”

Isabel squinted her eyes open and mumbled,

“Climbing….”

Gott and Liz exchanged glances. That answer, which might seem frivolous at first, was surprisingly concerning.

Isabel went climbing at night? Gerolt had gone up the mountain with his men at dawn.

“What did you do up there?”

“Smiel told me not to say…”

“It’s okay to tell me! Quickly!”

“I was looking for something… It was underground, so I marked it in case I got confused…”

“Wait, Priest! Did you tell Marcel where the Holy Sword is?”

Gott shouted in surprise.

“Could what she found on the mountain… be the Demon Sword?”

Liz asked Gott, bewildered.

“The Demon Sword? Why would that be here?”

“How should I know! But if the Holy Sword is in this city, why not the Demon Sword! The Holy Sword and the Demon Sword are twin swords. Legend says that when one is drawn, the other is inevitably drawn too!”

Liz gritted her teeth. Holy Sword? Demon Sword? She had no interest in such things. She had only heard rumors and doubted whether they even existed.

For now, Liz only had a gut feeling: whatever Isabel had found after searching the mountain all night must not fall into Gerolt’s hands.

No doubt Gerolt anticipated Isabel’s nighttime movements and had assigned subordinates to follow her. The carefree Isabel would have no idea she was being tracked.

By morning, Gerolt, having discovered the location of what Isabel sought, had taken action.

It was a disaster. Maybe it was already too late. If Isabel truly found the Demon Sword, it might already be in Gerolt’s possession.

Gott shuddered. As someone who once searched for the Holy Sword as part of the knights, he knew more than most about the Holy Sword and the Demon Sword.

The Demon Lord Darex, who had terrified the entire continent, had corrupted the sword.

The Demon Sword, tainted by evil simply by holding it, carried a curse that clung to whoever drew it for life. If Gerolt obtained it, the crisis could spread beyond the Rat’s Nest to all of Opal Land.

Even thinking this far, Gott and Liz could only stand there dumbfounded.

What could they even do? There was no place in the city untouched by Gerolt. Meanwhile, they were mere mice in a hole.

Even if Gerolt hadn’t yet reached the Demon Sword, how could they stop him when he was protected by subordinates?

Even if they miraculously managed to prevent him this time, he would keep pursuing the Demon Sword, and they would still have to live in the Rat’s Nest.

How on earth could they turn this situation around?

Then, at that moment…

“Did Gerolt go to the mountain?”

Isabel finally spoke, now fully awake.

Surprisingly, her usually unreliable eyes now looked completely trustworthy.

Isabel still lay on Liz’s thigh, drool on her mouth yet to be wiped.

But she looked at Gott and Liz alternately, her gaze serious.

Gott shouted urgently,

“Yes, Priest! About twenty of us climbed with pickaxes and shovels.”

He respectfully addressed Isabel, despite her being much younger. She nodded seriously, saying, “Mm, mm!”

Isabel got up. Grabbing her backpack and the Angelos Rod, she held her staff with both hands and muttered something.

Unknown to them, Isabel was casting a physical enhancement blessing on herself.

They didn’t know that a blue text, which always guided Isabel, appeared before her eyes.

[Quest Activated.]

[Stop Gerolt and reclaim the Demon Sword. (0/1)]

“Liz-unnie!”

Isabel, ready to leave, called Liz dramatically.

Liz swallowed nervously, tension rising.

“Why, why?”

“What does ‘reclaim’ mean?”

A brief silence followed.

When no answer came immediately, Isabel tilted her head and asked,

“You don’t know either?”

“No, who would not kn—!”

“Ah, it’s fine now!”

Thanks to the new text appearing before Isabel, the situation could resolve before Liz’s post-concussion symptoms worsened.

[Prevent Gerolt from drawing the Demon Sword. (0/1)]

“I’m off!”

With a bang, Isabel dashed out of the room at an incredible speed, rivaling the strongest opponents Gott had encountered across the continent.

Outside the door, they heard the startled voice of Lilton, “Ugh!” followed by the sight of Isabel running at astonishing speed.

Liz and Gott quickly realized the situation.

“Isabel… is going to face Gerolt alone?”

“Damn!”

They hurried after her. Though they trusted Isabel’s abilities, she was not someone they could leave entirely alone.

Panting, Liz ran slowly; the night’s aftereffects still made her head throb.

Gott asked with concern,

“Miss!”

“Run, don’t talk!”

“Miss, you really don’t know what ‘reclaim’ means?”

Seeing the vein on Liz’s forehead, Gott decided to leave her behind and run ahead.

Watching Gott’s back disappear into the distance, Liz quietly muttered a curse.

“Sir, it won’t break.”

“It’s too hard…”

Gerolt looked at his subordinates disdainfully.

He knew it was made from dragon scales.

But even so, these scales had been buried underground for 300 years without a master’s power. Twenty healthy men should have been able to break it.

Yet it didn’t break. The reason was obvious…

“Dyke.”

At Gerolt’s call, Dyke flinched. He put down his pickaxe and walked over.

“You called?”

“I don’t think you’ll fail to break this, Dyke. With your strength, you can do it.”

The Gerolters sensed a serious atmosphere and went silent.

It sounded like Dyke hadn’t put in full effort on purpose.

“Sir, I…”

“No, I won’t blame you. You’re all curious, right? Curious what’s inside that excites me so. So not just Dyke, but none of you have given your full effort, right?”

Gerolt glanced around and pointed at one of them.

“Right, Yan?”

“Y-yes.”

The others stared at Yan in shock. Clearly, Gerolt was using a leading question to single out slackers. But Yan didn’t waver.

Gerolt smiled thinly.

“Even Yan, skilled in detection magic, doesn’t know what’s inside. Of course, it’s unknown. These scales were given to humans long ago by the Dragon Lord. I’ve been searching for this for a long time, and finally, I found it. Curious what’s inside, aren’t you?”

He slammed his rough hands on the dragon-scale wall.

“Inside are treasures the dragons gave us humans!”

The Gerolters’ eyes widened. Dyke too.

It was a rare sight: Gerolt passionately showing the ambitious, greedy, and driven side he usually reserved for leading them.

“I knew these treasures were hidden somewhere in Rettina. I searched the upper and middle areas, and when I was about to search the lower area, slimes poisoned by Tames appeared and halted the search. The waiting was agonizing.”

Though repetitive, the Gerolters listened spellbound.

The cold, strict Gerolt had, for the first time in a long while, explained why they had to search the city.

“Remember the priest who came to the Rat’s Nest yesterday to set up a relief center? That bastard heard about this treasure from the church and came to steal it before I found it. But this Tron followed him last night and discovered the location of the treasure!”

A stir ran through the Gerolters.

Life in the Rat’s Nest had exhausted them—not just the residents, but the Gerolters as well. Plundering and extorting was not an easy life.

Gerolt’s words fascinated them.

“Sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner, but now trust me! There’s treasure here. Will I share it equally? Absolutely not! Remember, I’ve given you all money, status, and welfare!”

Gerolt slammed the dragon-scale wall again.

“This treasure is for the city! No more rat-infested slums or wasting away from disease! Since we found it, we don’t need robbery or protection money! Do you understand what will happen? You don’t! As long as you’re still rats in the slums!”

“Rats of the slums.”

A term they used mockingly for themselves and others used derogatorily.

Gerolt cursed once, then shouted,

“We will stop mining! Until the rich of other cities beg us for our iron and coal! We don’t need to maintain it. With this treasure, we’ll hire the best wizards to remove smog and pollution and buy top-quality potions for every resident. No need for relief centers! You will save this city!”

Their hands gripped the pickaxes. Finally, they understood.

If they could just break the scales—the pieces fallen from the dragon’s body 300 years ago—and retrieve the legendary treasure inside…

Then, the rats of the Rat’s Nest could become heroes and save the city.

Life in the slums had been miserable. As gangsters, even drinking and gambling only shortened their own lives.

But now it was different. They could do it. If they could break this and claim the dragon-given treasures…

They could become the city’s de facto rulers, and Gerolt would restore the city.

And they would gain pride.

Pride…

They were all starved for it. They had broken mirrors at home and thrown them into Tames to avoid seeing their own pitiful lives.

But now, a different life was possible. If they followed Gerolt’s instructions.

“Understood? Begin!”

With Gerolt’s command, the Gerolters lifted their pickaxes. All complaints about hard labor from dawn vanished as they began swinging with all their might.

Energy surged. The rhythm of pickaxes striking shortened. To become humans instead of rats, they had to break this. That was all they believed.

‘…’

Dyke watched blankly.

“Why hesitate, Dyke? Join in.”

Gerolt handed Dyke a pickaxe and nudged him forward.

Dyke stumbled down a slope, glancing back at Gerolt standing behind him, arms crossed.

It had to be a lie. This couldn’t be true.

Treasure from the Dragon Lord? A dragon-scale cavern? To those born in the Rat’s Nest, it was like a fairy tale. And yet, they believed.

But Dyke couldn’t. How could he, knowing Gerolt’s cunning and ambition so well?

He thought: is there any reason not to kill Gerolt with this pickaxe?

But Gerolt still had a longsword sheathed on his back. Dyke had no chance against him bare-handed.

He didn’t know what was inside. But it was clear that ordering him to kill Liz was all part of retrieving something from inside.

So he had to retrieve it.

He had already killed Liz with his own hands.

Without a plan to kill Gerolt and sever all ties, this was the only thing he could do.

Dyke clenched his eyes shut, gripped the pickaxe with both hands, and slowly moved forward.

The other Gerolters hurriedly made way. They knew Dyke alone would be more efficient than twenty men swinging at once.

“Hup!”

Dyke struck the wall with the pickaxe.

And kept going.

Then…

“Sir!”

Yan, using detection magic, shouted at full strength while making way for Dyke.

“The priest is coming this way!”

Gerolt’s eyes sparked with fire.