Chapter 137 - Orculus (3)

A chill runs through me.

"Hey, why isn't anyone saying anything?"

All it takes is that one remark. We haven't even properly clashed yet, but an urgent pounding fills my ears.

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!

Instinctively recognizing a natural predator, my warrior's heart pumps incessantly, carrying oxygen throughout my body. It has begun preparing before my mind can—for the worst that could happen.

In the silence that has settled over us, I slide my gaze toward my companions without moving my head. Everyone is frozen midstride.

They must sense it too, on some level. The menace radiating from every inch of him.

"Hello?"

He frowns and addresses us again. That helps calm my mind a little.

This is my critical window. I can't afford to stand here blankly wasting seconds that are about to become more precious than ever.

So...

"Are you seriously all just going to stand there?"

I listen closely and keep my eyes on him, rapidly piecing together information I might otherwise have overlooked.

["Hey, barbarian. Shouldn't you thank me? You must've had an easy time killing it thanks to me."]

He knew about this place. That's why he ran straight for the boss room the moment he detected our presence.

But...

'Even so, that was too fast.'

He arrived around the same time as us, when we had a map? That would be impossible unless he found the exact route without a single wrong turn.

How was that possible? No, more precisely...

'What skill did he use?'

I need to find out. My plans from here on will depend on it.

Looking back, the answer was in their earlier conversation.

["We might've missed them if we hadn't offered up another arm, you know?"]

They offered up an arm. Whose arm is obvious. It must have belonged to that poor man behind them.

'... A priest of Carui, then.'

One of them is a priest of Carui. That's a small mercy amid all this misfortune. If they'd found their way here through a Scout's abilities alone, we'd have no hope going forward. And...

["I beg you. Please, take only what you came for and let them go."]

The old man I suspect is an evil god's priest doesn't seem to be cooperating with that man all that willingly, either.

'Did he kidnap a priest and force him to change classes? Is the man whose arms were offered up in a similar situation?'

In the time it takes to draw roughly three breaths, I calmly finish assessing the situation and speak. Because there's no time left.

"Well, whatever. I'll just—"

"I certainly didn't expect to meet explorers in a place like this."

"So you're not mute after all?"

My answer breaks the silence, and he gives me an intrigued look.

Okay, I've bought some time for now.

"Do you happen to know how to get out of here?"

I casually ask something I already know the answer to. The more I look like some weak-ass nobody, the more he'll let his guard—

"You... what are you?"

His voice abruptly turns icy.

What? What the hell did I do wrong?

"Not even green? These fucking idiots are enough to trigger yellow?"

His eyes hold more wariness than interest or curiosity. My gaze involuntarily shifts to the ring on his finger.

It resembles a Numbered item I know. Set with green, red, and yellow gems, it's the thing I always called the Traffic Signal Ring.

No. 6111, Fate Tracker.

Green indicates a positive event nearby. Red indicates a negative one. Yellow indicates an event with elements of both.

And right now, that item's yellow light is shining clearly.

'Motherfucker.'

Is this what they mean by mixed feelings? Yellow means there was at least some chance I could smash his fucking skull in. That's good news for me.

The bad news is, now he knows it too.

'I'm screwed.'

Even my one advantage as the weaker party—the chance to exploit a stronger opponent's carelessness—is gone. All because of that goddamn ring.

"Looks like you even know what this is?"

To make matters worse, he catches that fleeting reaction of mine and openly reveals his true colors.

SHING!

A silvery-blue blade leaves the sheath at his waist. Our former aspiring blacksmith is the first to react to its dazzling gleam.

"A-a sword made of Arc..."

Arc. A tier-six metal that outperforms most Numbered items, effectively the highest tier of material in this world.

This is why I'd secretly hoped there would be more enemies. The higher the floors an explorer operates on, the more extreme the difference in equipment—not just the number and grade of their Essences.

'At least the ninth floor.'

But I don't look away. I accept the brutal reality as it is.

Not as part of a clan several dozen strong. Assuming his skill matches his equipment, he's powerful enough to operate comfortably on the ninth floor in a five-person team.

He must have at least eight Essences, too. All of them grade five or higher.

"Barbarian."

At this point, stats and everything else are practically meaningless.

"Hand over what you found inside."

He's at a level where he could cut down all five of us alone, without the priest's help.

"Unless you want to die."

But I've decided what I need to do to survive.

And so...

"Ah, you mean this?"

I take out the gem we obtained in the boss room and hold it in my hand.

Originally, this was Plan D. Give him everything he demands and beg for our lives.

"So you did have it. Now, hand it over. Then I'll let you leave alive."

"..."

I stare at him without a word. As the silence stretches on, my companions begin speaking up.

"... We're fine with it. Just give it to him. We don't even know what it's for anyway, nyah."

"I agree. Wouldn't it be best to avoid a fight if we can?"

Their words aren't worth listening to. This gem is the only reason we're still alive. They want me to take the word of a lunatic who kidnaps a priest, converts him, and drags him around?

Get real.

"My stomach..."

As I cautiously begin speaking, everyone's attention turns to me. He, too, watches me quietly. A cruel smile hangs on his lips—an arrogant smile, as though he already knows what choice I'll make.

So I grin back.

"Oh dear! I'm hungry!!"

"... What?"

The instant my sudden bellow throws him off, I shove the gem into my mouth without hesitation.

And...

GULP!

I force it down. Cramming a tangerine-sized gem down my throat makes my gullet burn, but who cares? That'll heal in a few seconds.

"Buuurp."

A belch escapes as I fight back the urge to vomit. Only then does everyone snap out of it.

"What do you think you're doing?"

His eyes gleam with murderous intent as he asks.

"I just felt like it!"

That's my answer.

A brief silence follows.

"..."

"..."

He looks as though he's wondering what kind of lunatic he's dealing with. Hmm, I guess my teammates don't look much different?

Whatever. It doesn't matter.

Quietly doing what needs to be done without giving a speck of earwax's worth of concern to what anyone thinks—isn't that the barbarian way?

"Barbarian, don't expect an easy death."

He kicks off the floor and shoots toward me, moving so fast it's hard to believe our stats are equal.

SHWICK!

Apparently worth its price, his longsword sinks into my shield without the slightest resistance.

His intentions are obvious. He plans to kill me, slit my belly open, and take the gem.

But...

'So what the fuck is he going to do about this?'

I put strength into my shield, redirecting the blade piercing it. Not outward, but toward my stomach.

"...!!"

Realizing what I'm up to, he hastily pulls his sword free.

He must know it too. The gem I swallowed isn't particularly durable.

"Was this what you were planning?"

I don't deny it. This is Plan E, replacing all the plans I discarded.

"Buuurp!"

Go on, gut me, motherfucker.

Now there's really nothing left to do but see this through to the end.

* * *

His eyes dart about, watching for an opening. If he can lop off my head in one stroke, he really can cut open my belly and take it afterward.

But...

'Not a chance.'

I pound my stomach with a fist the size of a watermelon.

THUD! THUD!

His eyes twitch every time I swing my hand. His face makes it painfully obvious that he's terrified I might crack the object inside my stomach.

"Ah, I'm just feeling a little bloated."

"... You lunatic."

That's music to my ears.

Nobody goes out of their way to avoid fallen leaves in autumn. But what about shit? People might step in it by accident, but no one steps in it knowingly.

And so...

THUD!

I stop pounding my stomach. The key to Plan E is to look like I'm about to cross the line without actually crossing it. And it seems my warning has gotten through well enough.

"What do you want?"

He tries talking. Apparently unwilling to provoke me, he's already sheathed his sword.

'Right. So this thing means that much to you.'

I'd love to be an asshole and taunt him, but instead I get to the point as my companions and I inch toward the passage opposite him.

"One day. Give me just one day."

"You're not asking me to spare you?"

He looks at me with curiosity. I can understand why. Everyone else who's been in a situation like mine must have said something along those lines to him.

But...

"I don't beg for my life like that."

More precisely, I don't do pointless things.

"Give me just one day."

A day's reprieve. I've judged that to be the most he might allow.

"Then I won't resort to cowardly tricks like this either."

"Why should I trust you?"

He responds to my final offer with a curt question, and without a moment's hesitation, I play the card I've prepared.

"I swear on my honor as a warrior. We're exhausted. We haven't slept in days. But if you wait just one day, I'll face you in a fair fight."

As though that's what I've wanted all along. As though I never wanted to resort to such cowardly tactics in the first place. I glare at him, letting my fighting spirit show in full, and he quietly asks, still uncertain,

"Do you really think you can win?"

I give a faint laugh.

Can I win? Well, I still think the odds are slim. But so what?

"Is that a reason to give up?"

There's no need to act. I speak from the heart.

He stares at my face. Then, after a stretch of silence, he finally gives me his answer.

"Twelve hours."

His voice is firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

"I'll give you twelve hours."

That's his limit.

"But let me make this clear. Don't think the same trick will work when the time comes."

His eyes and expression make his resolve plain: he'd sooner give up the item than let us go.

At last, I release the breath I've been holding in a long exhale.

[05 : 40]

I've gained what I needed most. Time.

* * *

We're running through the maze. Our formation is a little different from usual. Rotmiller and the dwarf are at the front, while I follow at the very rear.

The reason is simple.

"It really doesn't seem like he's following us."

That's what Rotmiller says, but who knows how long that bastard will keep his promise? I have to watch my own back.

"So what do we do now?"

Rotmiller asks as he clears the way at the head of the group. And he isn't the only one.

"Bjorn... are we really going to fight him, nyah?"

"I-I don't think that's a good choice. You saw it earlier, didn't you? He sliced through your shield like it was mud."

The questions and concerns they've been holding back are all directed at me. They left everything in my hands earlier, but now the worries must be catching up with them.

But as of today, democracy is over. There's not enough time to gather everyone's opinions and persuade them while getting things done.

"Hikurod, Misha, Rotmiller, Dwalki."

I call all four by name. Then I ask a favor.

"From here on, I might say things or give orders you don't understand. But can you trust me and follow me just one last time?"

"Of course, nyah."

The other three don't answer immediately. But I wait in silence, trusting in the person I've shown them over these past several months.

The dwarf is the first to speak.

"If not for you, I'd have died in the Blood-Tinted Castle. I'll trust your judgment."

Dwalki is second.

"I-I feel the same. Bjorn, I'll put my faith in your heroic destiny."

A heroic destiny. That bit of speculation that seasoned the tales of my epithet, Little Valcan, as it spread throughout the city. The Shaman said it to me too.

It would be one thing coming from strangers, but hearing him say it so seriously feels a little strange...

Well, I suppose it's a good thing in our current situation.

"When we faced him, all I could do was tremble in fear. I couldn't do a thing."

Rotmiller is last.

"Whatever you say, I'll trust you and follow."

I can feel the deep trust in those few words. But before I can dwell on it, he continues.

"That said, there's something I need to tell you first."

"What is it?"

"If my suspicion is correct, he's a truly dangerous man."

"Wait, do you know something about him?"

I brighten as I ask, and Rotmiller answers.

"A long time ago, I heard about an explorer who uses an Arc longsword. Rumor has it that a dragon's curse left his whole body covered in burns."

Okay, but who is he?

While that only raises more questions for me, the other three seem to have someone in mind already.

"A dragon's curse? Don't tell me..."

"The Dragonslayer! Rotmiller, are you talking about the Dragonslayer?"

"Th-then, does that mean he's a member of Orculus...?"

I frown at their frantic exclamations. I still don't know who this Dragonslayer is.

But...

'Orculus.'

An ancient word in this world meaning Witch's Eye. I've already read about the group that uses it as its name.

'A bunch of lunatics who openly declare that their goal is to kill the king.'

But they aren't merely lunatics. The fact that they've kept going for decades despite doing something so insane is proof of how powerful each individual member must be.

Even with the royal family's enormous bounties on their heads, wasn't the total number killed so far only seven?

'I've run into a far bigger pain in the ass than I thought.'

The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but one thing becomes clearer. Running away really isn't the best solution.

There's a famous saying, isn't there?

"Well, then, what should we do?"

Taking the map from Rotmiller, I designate our destination.

"We're going here."

There's no paradise at the end of running away.

Not this time, at least.