After several test runs and Porter’s adjustments complete, I went to the smithy to pick up my weapons.
Cluttered Aramsus was, as a city, itself a maze.
But, having lived there, I could now reach where I needed without getting lost.
Thanks to Clara, who’d drawn me a map, and Miranda-san, who’d guided me.
Walking like this, on a narrow side-street, was a sign.
The Aramsus smithy I used handled not just weapons but armor. Iron was easy to come by here; smithies were many.
But adventurer-facing ones didn’t front the main streets.
True to Aramsus’s nature, the proprietor was a dwarf.
Bushy beard, distinctive red nose.
I greeted him; he smiled back.
“How’s it? — The order.”
“Done. — Sure about this? I made it sturdy, yes… but as a sabre, it’s a touch heavy.”
The custom sabre had been ordered with extra thickness — heavy was fine. Current me can handle that.
Above all, mass-produced blades chip fast.
Metal-armored monsters were plenty; quality sabres weren’t stocked in Aramsus. And if stocked, the price was too high to buy.
I took five sabres and looked at the rest.
Arrows with mana-stones tipped — exploding arrows.
A common pocket-money product for students.
But the count I needed wasn’t easy to gather, so I’d commissioned them through the smithy’s acquaintance.
”…Quantity is enough.”
“Take payment, do the work. Customers leave, and a place like mine folds fast. — Speaking of…”
He looked at the arrows.
“What is it?”
“No, no large parties going into the dungeon, no war nearby. And yet this kind of arrow is short in supply.”
Arrows with explosive heads cost real money.
One or two — not much. In bulk — over twice the price of a normal arrow.
Quality varies; non-firing duds, low-power, etc.
Storage is a chore too.
Long-term storage isn’t suited, so the norm is order what you’ll use.
Hits during combat can detonate them. Hard to manage.
Hard to use without a porter. — But in the dungeon, valuable. That kind of weapon.
“Someone must have bulk-bought. Couldn’t get any from the place I bought from last time.”
Wry smile from me. The dwarf said handle carefully and handed me the goods.
Then —
“By the way — what about that side-tail girl from the other day?”
He’d asked after Novem. I told him she wasn’t with me today.
He looked a bit disappointed.
Dwarves and humans have different aesthetics, but Novem seemed to suit his.
“Would’ve thrown in a service for her — too bad.”
“My loss. I’ll bring her next time.”
He laughed.
“My missus is fond of her too. Bring her again.”
I paid and left.
— Aria was checking her gear before the run.
Lyle and Poyo-Poyo were checking what was loaded on Porter.
Others checked their own.
In the Sirclay manor garden, up early, breakfast eaten.
Still dim. Clara used magic for light while checking her load.
Around her, others used it too.
(Quite considerate, isn’t she.)
Aria thought, looking at Clara.
She checked her own gear. Porter held her backup weapons, which she’d checked first.
“All right — fine!”
For an undertaking like this — a multi-day stay in the dungeon — incomplete prep was real trouble.
Forget one item, die for it, regret it.
That’s why she’d been checking since the day before.
Recalling Lyla’s teaching, she finished her prep and looked around.
Miranda, newer to adventuring than her, was calmly checking.
“Oi — forgetting your canteen!”
“Eh? But Porter has water… Hii! Sorry!”
“Go get it. Check what’s inside, too.”
Miranda was also checking Shannon.
The manor was locked, so Shannon borrowed the key and headed to the front door.
Clara had a memo and was checking each item.
Point, mark off, one by one.
“Right, this is good… good on the second check.”
Apparently a second pass. Then loading.
(Can’t imitate that.)
She didn’t look meticulous on the surface, but she had professional consciousness as support; she went through gear thoroughly.
Aria looked at Novem.
Done already, Novem walked over to load her things onto Porter.
She stopped and stared at the wall.
Aria followed her gaze, half-thinking ghost? in the dim.
(She isn’t seeing weird things, right? — Well, it’s Novem.)
For Aria, Novem was hard to read.
Aria knew Miranda was guarded around her. Sometimes the two emitted a tense air.
Aria looked at the wall — and felt something.
“Eh — what’s…”
A small bird on top of the wall.
The bird saw Novem and flew off.
(Even Novem gets nervous?)
Apparently fine now, Novem brought her things to Lyle.
Shannon, having returned, locked the door and went back to Miranda.
“Water inside, right?”
“I put it in properly.”
Miranda took the canteen, opened the lid, took a sip.
”…This isn’t water, is it?”
“E-eheh!”
A cutesy self-tap on the head from Shannon. Miranda smiled and ground her fist against Shannon’s head.
“If you want to take it as is, fill a different canteen with water. — And carry your own.”
Shannon pointed at Porter.
“Stuff it on Porter!”
“Porter is going to carry more later! Just go, once more!”
Watching sister-quarrel, Aria thought:
(Porter’s being treated as a regular comrade by everyone…)
A touch unconvinced — Aria.
She looked at Lyle’s group.
“Still has slack.”
Looking at the loaded Porter, satisfied face.
Bragging about completed Porter, Lyle looked, to Aria, like a child.
“From here we’ll be loading recovered stones and materials, so this is about right? I wanted Porter bigger — large enough to sleep on. Sleeping rough is too pitiful for frail chicken-bastard…”
Frail — Lyle pushed back.
“Hey — who’s frail. Inside the dungeon isn’t rough sleeping. — No rain, no wind.”
— Aria:
(Yeah, Lyle is also somewhat off… is I the only normal one in this party?)
She’d grown plenty tough; as an adventurer she was now proper.
But as a girl, how? More masculine than before.
(Haa — I have to be the steady one.)
She thought so.
Into the Aramsus dungeon. Manpower and equipment in order, I was finally taking on the ancestors’ assignment.
Spent months completing Porter — felt like I’d been making pocket money on the side.
But I had grown, even a little.
Vanguard: Aria and Miranda-san. Right behind them, me.
Center: Novem and Clara. Rear: Porter.
In Aramsus’s relatively wide corridors, Porter rolled along with Shannon riding on the roof.
Poyo-Poyo flanked Porter. She’d told Shannon several times to come down to the cargo area.
Clara, to me:
“We’ve gone down so many times lately, we can move fast to B5.”
I’d gone down repeatedly, hauling gear and people.
So I’d memorized the route to B5.
Even if the dungeon shifted, the change wouldn’t be that drastic from last time.
“Yeah, that’s part of why we ran so many trips.”
When I said it, Novem looked at me.
“Lord Lyle, please don’t push too hard.”
Worried.
“I’m not pushing. — Just hauling cargo and people on Porter. The Porter of Piggybacked Lyle is popular among the adventurers now.”
I bragged a little to ease the tension.
Novem warned me.
“That won’t do. A leader mustn’t relax.”
“Indeed.”
Clara agreed. Shannon, watching from on top of Porter, laughed.
“Bad leader.”
She pointed. I was about to push back —
“Here they come! Two ahead. Goblins.”
Aria called. I drew the sabre.
“Aria and Miranda-san handle them. Rest on guard.”
Miranda-san and Aria dealt with the incoming goblins. In the shallow floors — to B5 — just rotating the vanguard could carry you.
Both lightly armored, but the goblins fell instantly.
Aria ran one through; Miranda-san slit one’s eye with her first short dagger, and as it stumbled, drove the second into its vitals.
(What — that was instant.)
I’d expected a bit more time, but their movements were sharper than before.
Aria moved to perimeter watch. Clara stepped in.
Going deep this time, we were only recovering stones. Bulk material here would fill us before B30.
I helped recover stones. The Second from the Jewel:
“Mysterious.”
The Third:
“What is?”
The Second:
“People. Quiet until you hand them work — and then suddenly they can do it. Doesn’t that happen?”
The Fourth agreed.
“It does. Until then, they think I don’t have to. Once tasked, I must do it myself! — that type.”
The Fifth:
“Out of ten, two or three turn out useless. The remaining two or three try.”
The Sixth, to me:
“In other words — until now, Lyle was making the other members useless.”
A small pang in my chest.
I had things to recall — couldn’t push back.
The Seventh covered.
“The Skills are absurdly potent. Not Lyle’s fault alone. — Aria gaining a little self-awareness is a big change too.”
The Seventh covered Aria too.
She’s more masculine lately, but her movements are now proper adventurer.
She didn’t just do what was ordered; she did what she could before orders.
That alone let me keep attention elsewhere — a relief.
Only — the Second:
“But — there’s a different tension, somehow.”
The Fourth:
“What — that hunch like the First’s?”
I noted it and listened while helping Clara.
“No — Miranda-chan is on alert all the time, and Novem-chan’s atmosphere today is somehow… well, hopefully my imagination.”
I looked the party over.
Yes — more tension than usual.
(Not just from aiming at B30 without Skills?)
But no point talking it through here. I announced movement.
“Pickup done. Let’s move. Need to go as far as we can today.”
I started walking; everyone took their positions and moved.
We headed to the planned rest spot.
There was a good place on B5; when we got there — lit inside.
I scratched my head.
“Unlucky. Got someone already.”
Another party resting.
Short-stay maybe, but we couldn’t wait.
Clara:
“Priority goes to those resting first. Negotiate? They might leave.”
I checked the time so far.
(Smooth to here. The route’s memorized. — Push and secure another decent spot.)
The Fifth’s and Sixth’s Skills made encounters with adventurers rare.
Small unplanned events like this are common.
“No — push on. Take a longer rest next. Miranda-san, switch with me. Aria — still good?”
Aria nodded.
“Naturally.”
Miranda-san hesitated briefly, then accepted.
”…Leader’s call. I’ll fall back.”
I swapped with Miranda-san and started moving.
The Second:
“Numbers being low is rough. — Resting here, too…”
B5: many adventurers rest there going down or coming up.
Parties like ours, also overnighting along the way.
(Lots of them — that’s why I’d wanted to rest there.)
Many parties clear nearby monsters for safety, so attacks during rest are few — good rest spot.
(Sudden change of plans is rough.)
I stepped into B6.
The Second:
“Bad feeling. Like being cut off ahead.”
True — finding others at planned rest spots draws complaints from many parties.
But that’s nitpicking.
I felt like complaining myself but wouldn’t.
Still —
(Yeah — bad feeling.)