Episode 58 — Campfire on the Eve of Infiltration

(Ugh... my butt really hurts.)

I gave a big stretch while lightly patting the neck of my horse, currently in my adventurer persona, "Meina."

It had been three days of swaying atop a horse since we left our home in Felsen. Finally, beyond the horizon of the night, the massive city walls of the Capital were faintly emerging like gargantuan tombstones.

The area was already draped in the heavy shroud of night. We had set up a small camp deep in the forest away from the main road to avoid prying eyes.

(If that idiot master were here, he’d definitely be spewing complaints like "The horse's suspension is trash" or "Implement an auto-pilot already" before becoming a motionless lump clutching a bag of potato chips. No doubt about it.)

The only sound echoing through the silence of the forest was the crackling of the small campfire.

Kyle, the shield-bearer, was tending to the fire with practiced hands, while Lin, the mage, was weaving a double layer of cloaking barriers to mask our presence.

"...Meina, you okay? We’ve barely rested for three days. The fatigue must be catching up to you."

Kyle stirred a pot of soup over the fire and peered at my face with concern.

"...Not really. I just don't like how stagnant the air is around here. It feels like layers of old buildings and even older human obsessions are piled up... it has a disgusting smell."

The Capital, with its long history, had far too much useless fat. If Zect were here, he’d probably describe it as "having so much cache that it’s eating up the memory." To me, it just looked like a massive, poorly ventilated trash heap that was a nightmare to clean.

"Fellow companions, shall we 'logically' formulate tomorrow’s action plan?"

With a rhythmic and strangely orderly metallic clinking, Bartos approached.

By the light of the campfire, he was opening *Introduction to Logic* with the dead-serious gaze usually reserved for a holy scripture. Bartos traced a rough sketch of the Capital drawn on the ground with a nearby branch.

"The main gate of the Capital takes far too much time for entry inspections. Furthermore, the guards are highly alert, increasing the risk of our true identities being exposed. ...In contrast, this service gate to the northwest has a non-stop line of freight carriages carrying tributes to low-ranking nobles, making it the optimal condition for blending in. I estimate the probability of detection to be less than one-fourth that of the main gate. ...Meina, what is your assessment of the logical validity of this choice?"

I let out a small sigh.

(Good grief. This heavy knight has been so influenced by that man that even his way of speaking has become roundabout. But his logic is sound. Zect would also say, "Choose the easiest path where you won't be found.")

"...It’s fine. However, the presence of the Black Lodge members lurking inside is different from your average thugs. ...I sense a cold, sharp, honed blade of information even before the scent of blood."

The moment I said that—

—Snap.

A faint sound of a dry twig being stepped on, distinct from the crackling of the fire, drifted in from just outside the cloaking barrier.

"—Who’s there!"

Kyle sprang up instantly, readying his massive shield. Bartos drew his sword with minimal motion, and a fireball—subjected to three stages of mana compression—immediately ignited at the tip of Lin’s staff.

I, however, accurately grasped the identity of the "presence" lurking in the darkness through raw instinct.

"Whoa there... Still a bunch of dangerous folks, I see. ...Would you mind lowering your weapons? I’m here to cooperate."

From the deep shadows of the trees, a man with his hands raised slowly emerged.

He looked to be in his late twenties.

His glossy long black hair was swept back, though one eye was hidden behind his long bangs. His features were refined, but his skin was somewhat pale, radiating a sickly sort of charm. He wore a high-quality black coat that seemed to melt into the night.

It was the man who used to run the black market in the Old Town—Volg.

"...Volg. I’m surprised you found us."

At my murmur, Bartos emitted a sharp murderous intent and stepped forward.

"You! Volg! Why has a great criminal who fled the Old Town and went missing shown himself here of his own accord!? I shall apprehend you this instant and let you receive a strict judgment and the hammer of logic!"

"Wait a second, Mr. Ironclad. ...Apprehending me won't help you open the door to the Capital’s underground, not in a million years."

Volg wore a relaxed smirk, lightly dodging the tip of the sword Bartos thrust toward him with a flick of his finger. There was no waste in his movements; they possessed a flowing beauty.

"I was cut loose by them. ...I was put on the list of 'worn-out tools' to be disposed of. ...Those guys intend to seize all the interests in Felsen for themselves."

Volg’s exposed eye flashed with cold, intense hatred.

"...I’m a man of high pride. I can't stand the thought of some incompetent outsider stealing the garden I built from the ground up. ...That’s why I’ll show you the 'true backdoor' to the Capital. In exchange, once the Black Lodge is crushed, I want you to guarantee my safety."

Kyle and Lin looked at me, unsure of how to judge.

Bartos snapped *Introduction to Logic* shut and stared at Volg with a piercing gaze.

"...Meina. This man’s cooperation has the potential to drastically improve our mission success rate. ...However, we lack the grounds to trust him unconditionally. ...What are your thoughts?"

I let my sword click into its scabbard and stared intently into Volg’s eye.

"...Fine. But if you show even a hint of betraying us, I’ll 'clean you up' with my sword that very instant. ...Understood?"

"...Terrifying little lady. Don’t worry. I won't betray you."

Volg gave a cynical laugh and pulled a piece of old parchment from his coat. On it was a map of underground waterways, as complex as a spiderweb, which certainly didn't appear on any official maps of the Capital.

"The deal is struck, then. ...Now, shall we go crush the bastards who threw me away?"

The former enemy—a professional of the underworld—had joined the circle around the campfire.

NEXT→

If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.