Chapter 52 - Outcast Team (2)

WHOOSH!

Heat washed over us from roughly ten meters away, followed by an acrid burning smell that tickled my nose.

THUMP!

The instant my brain registered what was happening, my heart clenched.

'If that had landed on our heads...'

We probably would've all fucking died.

“P-prepare for battle!”

The dwarf, who had been stunned by the sudden turn of events, shouted just as explorers emerged from the undergrowth. Five in total, arranged with four escorting a single mage.

'Fuck, these guys clearly aren't third-floor material...'

Why were bastards like these here?

While I silently prayed they weren't plunderers, a Therianthrope with triangular ears smirked at our battle-ready party. Then he spoke in a domineering tone.

“This Orc Habitat is Djarwi Clan territory. Go elsewhere.”

'A clan?'

So that was why they all wore identical insignias on their chests.

'Motherfucker...'

The curse came naturally. Not because I didn't understand what these guys were doing.

'They're locking down hunting grounds on the third floor?'

Fuck, wasn't that content supposed to start on the fifth floor at the earliest?

* * *

[Dungeon and Stone] is a single-player game. Surprisingly, though, it has territory-control content.

Initially, it appears as a way to block travel between maps until you clear the main episode, but once you establish a clan later on, the Player can monopolize hunting grounds too. Of course, that takes enormous manpower, so unless you're controlling habitats for certain rare monsters or bosses, you lose more than you gain.

'But they're doing it on the third floor?'

I couldn't wrap my head around it. What use was monopolizing grade-7 monsters?

Just look at that mage. Using high-level personnel capable of casting spells like that just to kill orcs was a waste.

“... I understand Djarwi is a clan operating on the sixth floor and above. Why are you in a place like the Orc Habitat?”

Apparently this was news to the dwarf too, and he cautiously voiced his puzzlement. The answer, however, was cold.

“We have no reason to explain ourselves to you.”

Oh, fair enough.

I accepted that, but the dwarf didn't. He'd shown us plenty of his silly side since we'd teamed up, but he was still an explorer. He was sensitive about matters affecting his own interests. All the more so when the cause came from outside the team rather than within.

“I've heard that the royal family sometimes grants clans rights within the Labyrinth in recognition of their achievements. But I've never heard of this place being Djarwi Clan territory. More importantly, we don't even know whether you're actually members.”

Given whom he was dealing with, the dwarf laid out his questions as logically as possible. His argument was certainly sound. Their equipment and the spell we'd just witnessed made it clear they were explorers far above us, but there was no proof they belonged to that clan.

But...

'I'm pretty sure we should just get the hell out of here...'

Honestly, I was more afraid of the possibility that they weren't. A major clan would at least care about public opinion. Impersonating bastards clearly wouldn't.

“How amusing.”

The Therianthrope glared, looking offended. But the dwarf didn't back down.

“I get that a lot.”

As their silent contest of wills dragged on and the tension gradually mounted, I felt someone step up behind me.

I checked. It was none other than Misha.

Why was she suddenly pressing so close behind me? Almost as if she were hiding from something...

“... Don't tell me. The half-breed?”

The Therianthrope asked with a deep scowl, and I felt her flinch behind me.

What? She really was hiding?

“B-big brother... nyah.”

Stammering, Misha edged out beside me. The Therianthrope's expression soured further.

“I believe I told you not to call me that in public?”

“I-I'm sorry, nyah.”

“Tsk. Even the way you talk. A half-breed through and through.”

Misha couldn't say a word in response to his sneering and hung her head. Just as I'd suspected, he wasn't calling her that because they were close.

'What is their relationship, anyway? Are they actually family?'

As that question arose, the opposing mage, who'd been doing nothing but looking important in the rear, helpfully asked it for me.

“Just to be sure, is that young lady your sister?”

“Yes, technically.”

The Therianthrope nodded respectfully, and the mage stroked his glossy beard.

“Hmm, I owe Sir Karlstein a debt. And if she's your sister, she can hardly be called a stranger. We could make an exception for this group—”

“There's no need.”

“Hmm? But...”

The Therianthrope firmly rejected the mage's consideration once more.

“My father won't mind either. I cannot explain why, as it concerns a private family matter.”

His voice was cold and unyielding.

“If you say so, very well.”

The mage changed his mind and nodded without further argument. But perhaps he thought he could at least explain the reason to us.

“You there.”

He stepped forward and spoke in a coaxing tone.

“An internal clan matter has left us urgently in need of an Orc Great Warrior Essence. If things go well, you should be able to hunt here again starting next cycle, so please go elsewhere just this once. Or, well, go to the outskirts, where Great Warriors don't appear.”

Perhaps because he was a mage, he spoke far more gently than the Therianthrope... but ultimately, he was still telling us to get lost.

“I refuse.”

The dwarf shook his head, then mocked him with an uncharacteristically sharp tongue.

“It appears you're claiming rights without royal authorization. Why should we accommodate your clan's circumstances? And are you even aware that what you're doing is illegal?”

“... Illegal?”

Had that word particularly offended him?

“A wise explorer would know when to watch his tongue.”

The previously mild mage's gaze turned fierce.

But perhaps he didn't want to leave any grounds for trouble later.

“More to the point, when have we broken the law? We're merely being considerate. With us here, there won't be any monsters left for you to hunt, so we're suggesting that you'd be better off elsewhere.”

It was roundabout, but translated, it meant they'd do everything they could to interfere with our hunting if we didn't leave. The dwarf apparently understood too, biting his lip in frustration.

“Damn it...”

Forcibly expelling us or injuring us would be another matter, but Labyrinth law didn't explicitly cover things like this. In other words, the law would be no help at all.

'Though relying on the law in the first place was the problem.'

I felt bad for the dwarf, who'd tried his best to protect our team's rights and interests, but I'd wanted to back down from the start. The Labyrinth was a place where the powerful made the law. Forget that and get stubborn for no reason, and you could disappear without a trace.

'By now, he should've realized this isn't the time for pride. I'd better talk him around and get us out of here.'

Just as I finished watching the situation and decided what to do next...

“None of you need worry. I'll settle this.”

Dwalki suddenly interjected, saying something utterly incomprehensible.

'Settle it? What's he talking about?'

I didn't have the slightest idea. Before I could ask what he meant, however, Dwalki approached the opposing mage with a smile.

“Hahaha! A pleasure to meet you, my senior in magic.”

“... Senior? Have we met before?”

“No, but as a fellow practitioner who has chosen to devote his life to the study of magic—”

“Enough. Who exactly are you?”

Had he not expected such a harsh response? Dwalki faltered briefly, then forced a smile and answered.

“Hahaha, my name is Leor Wuerv Dwalki, a grade-8 mage certified by the royal family of Raphdonia—”

“I wondered what this was about. Just trash, as I thought.”

“... Pardon?”

Displeasure appeared on the mage's face. No, to my eyes, he looked even more offended than when the word “illegal” had come up, and this time he seemed to have no intention of hiding it.

“The study of magic? Devote your life? Hardly words for a piece of trash who learns a handful of basic spells, struts about calling himself a mage, and makes a living performing petty tricks in the marketplace. Your shamelessness gives me chills. Do refrain from saying such things elsewhere.”

Cutting criticism poured out like rapid gunfire.

'Is it because he's a mage? His wording alone is brutal.'

Even as I marveled at the mage's nonstop damage output, I worried about Dwalki. Hearing that to my face would probably break me too...

“... G-ghh, hhk!”

Oh, he was already broken.

I looked beside me to find Dwalki blinking, barely able to breathe. His mouth kept opening a little and closing again, reminding me of a fish tossed onto sand.

Witnessing his best friend's mental collapse, the dwarf finally lost his temper.

“Now listen here! That was going too far!”

“I merely stated the facts.”

“What? Merely stated the facts?”

Veins stood out rigidly on the dwarf's throat. The murderous gleam in his eyes didn't bode well either.

The instant I noticed it...

“I've put up with enough—!”

I grabbed the dwarf by the scruff of his neck and lifted him up. Then I immediately confiscated the warhammer in his hand.

And, sure enough...

BZZZT!

A tingling sensation spread from my fingertips.

「Hikurod Murad has cast [Lightning].」

Fuck, had this bastard actually lost his mind?

Suppressing my anger as best I could, I spoke in a low voice.

“Get a grip, Hikurod.”

Just now, all of us had nearly died.

* * *

“You have a good companion. Be grateful to that barbarian for the rest of your life. He saved every one of you.”

“...”

Was the dwarf finally coming to his senses? He offered no response to the mage's sneering and hurriedly led the team away. As soon as we reached the outskirts, he bent his short waist in a bow to us.

“I'm sorry. I lost my head and got carried away. As he said, if it hadn't been for Bjorn...”

We probably would've all died. One look was enough to tell those bastards weren't generous enough to let people who attacked them first walk away unscathed.

“Your reckless behavior just now nearly led every member of this team to ruin.”

Rotmiller reprimanded him sternly.

“... I'm ashamed of myself.”

The dwarf apparently knew he'd been in the wrong. He hung his head without making excuses.

Honestly, I wanted Rotmiller to keep going and lay into him harder. But...

“Nothing happened in the end, so I won't say any more.”

Rotmiller was far too softhearted to serve as a disciplinarian.

“And although it was reckless, I personally think you were right to stand up when a teammate was being belittled.”

I couldn't understand it. Even a torrent of curses wouldn't have been enough, and he was praising him?

'Shouldn't we at least cut his share and make him work this expedition for free?'

Wrongdoing needed punishment and restitution. That was how you kept someone from making the same mistake again. I'd been considering practical measures like that, but the mood wasn't right to bring them up.

'Fuck, am I the weird one?'

As Rotmiller magnanimously forgave the dwarf, a strange atmosphere settled over us. Hard to describe, but it was the kind of mood that had made me deeply uncomfortable since childhood.

“... I'm sorry too, nyah. If it weren't for me, things might've gone a little better, nyah.”

The first to get swept up in it was none other than Misha.

“H-how could that possibly be true!”

Dwalki was second. Startled by Misha's self-reproach, he waved both arms in denial. Then, despite his stammering, he spoke resolutely.

“I-I... Of course, I'm not always right...! But I think it was because you were there that we at least got an explanation before they drove us off! So please don't think that!”

It wasn't particularly eloquent consolation, but everyone felt the sincerity behind it. Was that why?

“Do you know... why I hate talking about my family, nyah?”

Misha abruptly began telling her story.

“My family treats me like I don't exist, nyah. Some of you might already have an idea why, nyah.”

Misha warily studied our faces. Apparently among those who had an idea, Rotmiller was the first to avert his eyes, so I pretended not to know too.

Elves command spirits. Dwarves with the Blessing of Armor gain greater efficiency when using Numbered items, and barbarians have Spirit Seals. Likewise, Therianthropes have a racial trait beyond their exceptionally high base Agility.

“I'm the only one in my family who couldn't form a contract with a ‘Spirit beast,’ nyah.”

Spirit beasts. Therianthropes can form contracts with ancient beasts known by that name, and those contracts take all sorts of forms. Summoning them to fight alongside you, channeling them to enhance your physical capabilities, or receiving blessings that let you use the beasts' special abilities.

Of course, not every Therianthrope can do it. Only certain talented individuals are chosen by Spirit beasts. The problem here, however...

'Is that she's of the chieftain's bloodline.'

A direct descendant of the Karlstein family, the family of chieftains. In other words, her inability to command a Spirit beast despite being pureblooded was a serious problem. It wasn't simply a question of talent, but circumstantial evidence that could cast doubt on her bloodline itself.

“When we were little, I got along with my siblings too, nyah. But that changed when I still couldn't contract a Spirit beast after coming of age, nyah. They all called me a half-breed, nyah. Said I only had half their blood...”

A child born of infidelity. Her mother had died young, so no one could know the truth. Unable to endure their looks, Misha left home. Then she devoted herself solely to martial training, slowly growing as an explorer.

“Thank you for telling us something so painful.”

When her story, both short and long, ended, the dwarf stroked Misha with unusual seriousness. She wasn't prickly like before, either. If anything, she was like a tame cat.

“Hikurod... you got genuinely angry for us because you think of us as companions, didn't you, nyah?”

What? That's how we're interpreting this?

The emotional developments kept coming, far too difficult for a pessimist like me to follow.

“Hahaha! If you put it that way, I suppose I should tell my story too. My dream was to become a blacksmith. But I had no talent, and even after ten years, I couldn't move past being an apprentice. That's why I only became an explorer after thirty! I still needed to make money, and I seized the chance to run away.”

Apparently moved by Misha's confession, the dwarf calmly shared his own story. Dwalki went next.

“W-when it comes to lacking talent, no one could rival me. My family was well-off enough for me to begin studying magic, but my meager talent kept me out of the Magic Tower. If I were a proper mage... surely he would've shown me at least a little respect.”

Dwalki went on to explain that his goal was to earn money as an explorer to learn more magic.

I thought that would be the end of it, but...

“I've been on many teams, but this is a first.”

Rotmiller, who'd been silent, gave a small chuckle and rekindled the fading embers.

“I owe you an apology too. The other day, when Murad and Miss Karlstein discussed their years of experience, I found anger welling up in me.”

“D-did that happen?”

“Yes. It was my own ugly jealousy. Without knowing that each of you had your circumstances, I thought you were both lucky enough to be born nonhuman, yet still complaining about progressing too slowly or quickly.”

Human explorers had their advantages too. For one, they could use Aura, become spirit summoners, mages, or priests. A few were born with bodies as large as barbarians'. In effect, they had the advantages of every race.

But those were only possibilities, and only applied to a gifted few.

“Hahaha! Then I suppose we're a whole team of outcasts? All the better. It means none of us needs to feel inferior to the others from now on.”

The dwarf laughed awkwardly, lifting the sinking mood. And at his words—

“That's certainly true.”

Dwalki, the talentless mage, was delighted.

“I'll work even harder to help the team, nyah!”

The pureblooded Therianthrope who couldn't command a Spirit beast was moved too.

“It's not something I'd expected to think on day three of our first expedition, but I hope this team lasts as long as possible.”

So was Rotmiller, the utterly ordinary human explorer of eight years. Everyone acknowledged their shortcomings, spoke openly, and comforted one another.

Naturally, their gazes gathered on me, the one who hadn't confessed anything yet.

“...”

“...”

Their eyes seemed to ask whether I had anything to share.

'Uh, I don't have anything like that...'

I felt like I had to say something if I didn't want to become the team's outcast...

Flustered by all their attention, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I-I don't have a mom!”