Of course, the fact that Aslan had engaged in battle at Netchagni wasn’t exactly a secret.
At the very least, Count Warpol and Count Scherlukunde, who were aware of changes in their lands, knew about it.
Besides them, there were also scouts and mercenaries from other barons who might have observed the situation at the battlefield, as well as farmers living in nearby villages, so the number of people aware of the event wasn’t all that small.
However, the distance between Netchagni and Olpasbet was quite long, and Aslan found this peculiar.
No matter how fast news traveled, there was no reason for someone to know about an insignificant incident that occurred so far away.
But there was no way to know, and Aslan opened his mouth to extract information.
“The matter at Netchagni is finished. I was searching for a decent city to resupply.”
“A decent city?”
“I was interested in the white steel arms of Olpasbet.”
At Aslan’s words, the noble made a sound of interest and rested his chin on his hand.
White steel was a metal found only in Olpasbet.
As its name suggests, it emitted a white light, and when processed into weapons or armor, it became lightweight yet sturdy equipment.
Though mining it was difficult, making it rather expensive, the lord seemed to find it plausible and nodded slightly.
“So, you don’t have any other special business… or plans to go anywhere else, I suppose?”
“That’s correct.”
“Is that so.”
The Baron of Olpasbet reclined in his chair with a sly smile. The chair, which seemed to be covered with some animal’s skin, creaked, and the baron rolled his eyes.
“I have a little pastime for you.”
Aslan nodded.
“I’m listening.”
With a sly smile still on his face, the baron leaned forward. He placed his large hands on the table.
“Do you know anything about the legends of Olpasbet?”
It was an unexpected question.
But Aslan knew the legends of Olpasbet well.
In truth, there was hardly any knowledge in the world that Aslan didn’t know.
Nevertheless, Aslan shook his head to draw out more information.
“I don’t.”
“They say that this place called Olpasbet didn’t exist in ancient times. It was just a vast plain when the Ancient Gods were still around.”
Aslan barely managed to stop himself from frowning at those words.
“But when the Great Gods descended upon this land, and the dim-witted Ancient Gods dared to oppose them, one of the Ancient Gods was reportedly bitten to death here by the Poison-Spitting Dragon, one of the inevitabilities of the universe.”
“…I’ve never heard that before.”
“You would. So did I. But the important part isn’t that. They say that the Ancient God who was bitten by the Poison-Spitting Dragon began to rot and swell right there due to its immense poison. That god’s body turned into vomit and mountains, and its head became a peak.”
Isn’t that a ridiculous story? Aslan barely nodded at the baron’s expression.
It was certainly a ridiculous story, but he couldn’t dismiss it lightly. After all, this wasn’t something an ordinary person would know.
“The interesting part is that the ridiculous story is true, and there’s a hidden tale behind it. The Ancient God who died back then was powerful, and it’s said that the mighty weapon of that god rests beneath Olpasbet.”
A hidden weapon.
Hearing this, Aslan guessed who had tipped off the baron.
The Supreme Divinity who oversees all battles in the world and drools over every piece of equipment in existence.
The Supreme Divinity.
Thus, Aslan understood what the baron was about to say.
“You can’t possibly mean that you want me to take on the task of retrieving it.”
“Exactly, I wish for you to bring me that weapon.”
This wasn’t a mere pastime.
As far as Aslan knew, one would need to explore all the toxic swamps underground via the mine shafts to obtain it.
There was currently no way to cross the deadly poison that could even dissolve gods. Investigating the area immediately wouldn’t be wise unless one reached a certain level and acquired more means.
But Aslan didn’t refuse the offer.
Instead, he saw this as an opportunity.
An opportunity to escape.
While completing the quest, he could secure some supplies and delay the pursuit of the martial monk chasing him for a while.
“Very well.”
“Oh, indeed the veteran of combat. You’re straightforward.”
A faint sense of excitement flickered in the baron’s seemingly surprised expression, and Aslan could discern what the Baron of Olpasbet was plotting from that look.
It appeared the baron had already summoned or intended to summon the martial monk.
If Aslan surveyed the mine shafts and either found the divine weapon or discovered the path leading to it, what the baron planned to do afterward was obvious.
He would deploy troops and the martial monk to eliminate Aslan, claim the merit of capturing the veteran, pay homage to the divine weapon, and gain the favor of the deity.
It was a plan clear as day.
“But before that.”
“Hmm?”
Of course, it didn’t matter as long as he didn’t fall for it.
Calmly intending to manipulate the lord and extract as much as possible, Aslan spoke.
“No matter how skilled I am in combat, I’m fundamentally human, not a priest.”
“…That’s true.”
“It’s difficult for me to conquer the mine shafts alone with just a captive girl. Isn’t it?”
The Baron of Olpasbet directed a dull gaze toward the girl. Since entering the study, the girl had been crossing her arms and wearing an uncomfortable expression.
The girl standing slightly behind Aslan frowned at the lord’s gaze directed at her.
Her limbs were thin, and the rags she wore didn’t seem particularly defensive.
Even if she were well-armed, there was no guarantee she’d fight effectively. The lord, who had primarily rented out captives for consistent purposes, thought Aslan had purchased the girl for a different reason.
“Alright, then I’ll assign five guards…”
“No.”
Interrupting, Aslan disregarded the baron’s uneasy expression. After all, the baron likely valued the glory of capturing Aslan more than venting his frustration at the moment.
“The guards are fine. In fact, if the guards serving the city get injured or die during the exploration of the mine shafts, my conscience wouldn’t be at ease.”
This was partially sincere. Not all guards in the sinful city were criminals or corrupt, after all.
Aslan didn’t wish for unnecessary casualties, and it would complicate his escape. More importantly, the idea that he might have to kill them during his escape worried him.
“Hmm, I see.”
The baron seemed indifferent to the lives of the guards but showed interest in Aslan’s suggestion.
“I’d like to rent a few prisoners in your name.”
“Hooh.”
Although it wasn’t ideal for prisoners to die, they were preferable in terms of the escape problem.
The lord, unaware of these intentions, purely contemplated the proposal. After a long deliberation, the lord nodded.
“That sounds good. Let it be done.”
Moreover, the lord didn’t suspect a thing.
The reason was simple.
There had never been a discovered escape route, and no prisoner had successfully escaped from Olpasbet.
Throughout the entirety of Geleridion, only Aslan knew of the escape route.
Therefore, the lord was not only unsuspecting but also excited about his future plans.
“Do you have any particular prisoners in mind? No, never mind. Here, take this.”
The lord’s enthusiasm easily spurred him on, and the encouraged lord smiled and extended something onto the desk with an air of generosity.
The object revealed by the “clink” sound was a signet ring.
Handing it over with a haughty smile, the lord continued,
“Take as many prisoners as you wish. It wouldn’t benefit us for you to report unnecessarily and waste time investigating. All facilities, equipment, and supplies within the city will be available to you upon showing this ring.”
Thus, the lord promised full support.
Though Aslan found the sight absurd, he could somewhat understand it.
If things went well, he could become a priest. A human above humans, a messenger of the deity.
Compared to that, wealth was merely a trivial expense.
Aslan was somewhat bewildered by how readily the support was granted, though it was part of his intention.
“Thank you. I shall surely repay you with excellent results.”
Whether those results would be good for the lord was uncertain, but the lord smiled warmly, mixing his sinister grin with softer emotions at Aslan’s confident reply.
*
Prisoners in Olpasbet typically reside in cells shallowly carved into the mine shafts.
Unless rented out, they are usually mobilized for mining.
Amidst the bustling mine shafts, where layers of metal shards and ores lay scattered, pickaxes gleamed sharply as prisoners hurriedly moved under the watchful eyes of the guards, unloading what they had mined.
Unlike rare female prisoners or those with alternative punishments, most prisoners could be found here.
Aslan was aware of this and confirmed it visually.
Receiving the gazes of the busy prisoners, Aslan carefully scrutinized each one.
Only the nearby guard, the deputy registrar, and Angie looked uncomfortable, anxious, and dissatisfied.
After scanning for some time, Aslan’s gaze stopped when he noticed someone approaching.
Standing slightly over 2 meters tall, with a bulky physique matched by muscular strength, and scales that glimmered red even under the dim lantern light, along with a thick tail swinging side to side as he moved briskly—anyone could tell this was a seasoned warrior, and indeed, he was.
Harold Crow.
Carrying large sacks on both shoulders, Harold approached the guards and dumped the ores.
The ores tumbled down with a “thud,” mostly fist-sized, and in quantities that suited the large sacks—considerably abundant.
Almost two to three times the amount dumped by other prisoners.
But Harold stood up as if dumping the ores meant nothing, cracked his neck left and right with a “pop,” and prepared to return to the mine shaft.
However, after taking a couple of steps toward the mine, Harold slowly turned his head as if noticing something unusual behind him.
Specifically, Aslan looking at him and the girl beside him, who wore a dissatisfied expression.
“…Traveler, Angela Tail.”
Suspicion heavily clouded the golden reptilian eyes with vertically slit pupils.
Acknowledging the skeptical gaze directed at him, Aslan nodded.
“Harold Crow.”
The bulky draconian warrior approached hesitantly, as if perplexed. When the guard tried to block his way, Aslan stopped him by stepping in front with his arm.
Stopping at a distance where he could reach out and touch Aslan, Harold furrowed his brow.
“What brings you here? Why were you looking for me?”
Even without saying it aloud, Harold seemed to have sensed that Aslan had been searching for him and crossed his arms as he asked.
Instead of answering, Aslan took out the ring—the signet ring given by the lord—and showed it to the deputy registrar, briefly speaking.
“Harold Crow, will you work with me on one task?”
Before the draconian warrior could respond, Aslan added,
“I intend to hire you.”
Upon hearing this, the expression on Harold’s face darkened.
