Chapter 310: Act 77 – The King of the Underground (28)
“Right now, there’s only one elevator available in Area A03. But, Mr. Odum, are you really going down?” The foreman asked, his gaze shifting between the old dwarf and Romaine.
He led Odum deep into the mine tunnels, followed by more than a dozen soldiers. Kuran was missing, and Ockins was terrified; Odum was his only hope, so when the old dwarf appeared before him and asked to inspect the mineshaft, he was overjoyed.
As for Romaine?
The secretary had grabbed onto what felt like a last hope, completely ignoring the old dwarf’s presence beside him; after all, whether the dwarf would take his illegitimate daughter down was his own business, right?
Upon hearing the foreman’s question, the old dwarf grunted, “Nonsense, otherwise, what am I doing here?” He glanced back at the trembling soldiers behind him—clearly, the terrifying rumors about the mines had scared them half to death. The old dwarf said, “If you don’t want to come down, you can stay up here.”
The soldiers visibly breathed a sigh of relief. “But what if the lord asks about it?” one asked.
“What does that have to do with me?” the old dwarf replied impatiently. If not for the trouble of taking these soldiers down, he wouldn’t want to venture into the mine alone; who knew if the monster rumors were true? Many people had witnessed the monster; perhaps there really were monsters. The old dwarf had some skills, but he wasn’t invincible: “You can explain yourselves; you know how to lie. I won’t expose you—”
The soldiers nodded one after another, “You’re such a good person, Mr. Odum.” They all said.
The group soon arrived beside the elevator; Merchant Miss looked up at the contraption, glancing left and right. If there weren’t so many outsiders around, she might have curiously reached out to touch it—however, as she hesitated, the old dwarf had already taken her by the arm and brought her up.
This time, the foreman did not follow them: “Mr. Odum,” he said, “I won’t see you off. Be cautious.”
The old dwarf snorted, “Of course, you humans are incredibly timid.”
Everyone’s expressions turned strange, only the foreman, with better composure, awkwardly said, “Mr. Odum, you can operate this machine, right?”
“Nonsense.”
The old dwarf irritably pulled down a few levers, and the elevator immediately rumbled to life, slowly descending, soon leaving the foreman and soldiers above. As the platform sunk, the scenery surrounding them turned into quickly descending rock walls, and the air grew hot and stuffy.
When there were no onlookers, Romaine became noticeably lively. She tried to touch the surrounding rock layers. However, she was yanked back by the old dwarf, who glared at her and shouted, “Do you want to die?”
“I’m sorry!” Merchant Miss apologized at human speed.
Just then, the elevator thudded down onto the lower rock layer, coming to a halt, and both of them swayed a bit. The old dwarf raised a torch to look around; the fourth level of the mine was as narrow as ever.
He thought for a moment before extinguishing the torch.
However, he quickly realized a problem—he hadn’t brought an illumination crystal. Of course, he could take Romaine back to the previous level to catch up with the others; they surely had something similar. But Odum snorted; his pride wouldn’t allow it.
Besides, dwarves could see in the dark, so he decided to press on.
“It’s pitch black,” the young girl’s voice said in the darkness, her eyes shining in the blackness.
“Shh!” Odum sniffed. After entering the fourth level of the mine, the air became thin, and he didn’t dare use open flame. “Just follow me,” the dwarf said.
“Why not use some light?” Romaine asked.
“Because this is underground; the air is precious down here.”
“An illumination crystal?”
“I don’t have that—”
“But it’s so dark.”
“That can’t be helped!”
“Romaine wants light.”
“Keep your voice down—” The old dwarf’s words suddenly caught in his throat as he felt a soft light illuminate from behind, brightening the surroundings.
He rubbed his eyes, almost thinking it was an illusion.
When the old dwarf turned to look back, Romaine was curiously raising one hand, her palm radiating a gentle white light.
“W-What… where did this come from?” Odum stammered.
“I don’t know,” Romaine replied, flipping her palm back and forth, “it can just light up by itself. Isn’t that interesting?!”
“You don’t know?” The old dwarf felt that she must be teasing him.
“Yeah,” Romaine nodded obediently, “I just thought, ‘It would be great to have some light’—and then it started shining. Isn’t that cool?”
“Is this the first time?”
“Mm-hmm.”
The old dwarf touched Romaine’s forehead.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Odum shook his head, “I just heard that there are people whom witches and wizards alike reject, and their blood flows with magical energy—” he paused, “Is your family like you?”
Romaine thought for a moment: “Brendel said that Aunt is a witch.”
“A witch,” the old dwarf’s eyes widened, “that’s impossible! Witches and that… are mutually exclusive—unless she’s not truly your aunt. Were you adopted?”
Merchant Miss exclaimed angrily, “Aunt is Aunt!”
Odum raised an eyebrow, thinking about it; after all, what did someone else’s family affairs have to do with a lowly dwarf? He suddenly felt that ever since meeting this little girl, he seemed to have developed more problems; he scratched his head and replied, “Alright, having light is good. Stay close to me; you must not wander off alone here; this is no joke—”
“Okay.” Romaine nodded obediently.
However, this obedience didn’t last for just a few seconds before she asked curiously, “What is that, old man?”
Odum froze, instinctively turning his head back—
…
Otales’ words reminded Brendel of everything that happened the night the Black Rose War broke out at Buche’s old abode. Back then, he was just another ordinary young man in this world, facing an onslaught of undead from the darkness; he had barely managed to escape with Romaine.
However, everything that happened that night was indeed not so straightforward. He touched his chest; the pain from where the undead had stabbed him felt as if it could still be experienced at that moment—when he had been rescued from the Red Pine Forest by Freya and her militia, the formerly fatal wound had healed remarkably; he had thought this was an additional effect of his tenacious spirit.
But now it seemed that it was Otales who truly saved his life.
He looked at her, and Otales nodded.
“Thank you,” he replied.
“No need, little one,” Otales smiled slightly at him, “Sister is your Holy Seal Soul; saving you is like helping myself. I also don’t want to sleep for such a long time again.”
Upon hearing this, Brendel’s heart raced; did Otales mean that she would help him whenever he was in danger? In that case, the previous few dangers were nothing more than incidents where the timing hadn’t been perilous enough.
Otales was a knight following Queen Saint Ausoor. Even though Brendel had mostly interacted within the human territories during his game experience and didn’t know much about that legendary monarch of the North, the Elf King Dirut was indeed a figure on par with the Flame King Gilt. One could imagine that the Flame King’s followers at least possessed the strength to enter the peak of elemental realms, and the twenty-four knights following the Wind Queen were certainly no less than that.
Having at least an NPC of level eighty accompanying him felt incredibly satisfying to Brendel. He remembered there was once a mission in Amber Sword that involved escorting a wizard mentor from the Tower of Stars and Moon to investigate a forest twisted by magic. In that quest, it was in fact low-level players cooperating with high-level NPCs; the feeling of being led by an NPC was something he still vividly recalled, as it was his only time enjoying the thrill of crushing dungeons of the same level.
Thinking about his little calculations, Brendel couldn’t help but glance at Otales secretly.
Unexpectedly, that glance met her gaze directly, and the elven woman seemed to see through his thoughts. She closed her eyes and said seriously, “However, despite that, the Holy Seal Soul has been stripped of its power. Other than the inheritance of swordsmanship and some secret arts, sister herself doesn’t actually possess much power. Don’t expect too much, little one—”
“Huh?”
Brendel’s careful calculations were exposed, and he immediately felt embarrassed, his face turning red. But at the same time, he felt a bit disappointed.
Otales continued, “Ultimately, the Holy Seal Soul merely represents the power of inheritance. In fact, there are a total of four rings scattered in the human world. Your grandfather acquired one because we owed a debt to your ancestors.”
“Ancestors?”
Otales clammed up on this topic.
Brendel, who was rebuffed, didn’t feel too awkward this time; he had encountered such walls while interacting with NPCs in the game before, especially these legendary figures, whose information was usually tightly guarded. Unless the necessary conditions were met, one couldn’t expect to glean any useful nuggets from them.
However, Brendel at least understood that it seemed his grandfather did indeed keep something hidden from him and Brendel’s father. This was very close to his suspicions—his grandfather not only came from nobility but also appeared to hold a significant status.
But he didn’t press the issue.
Because at that moment, a line of text appeared on his retina, prompting him to select a reward. He had wasted too much time conversing with Otales—the atmosphere in the coliseum had started to change; the host was not giving challengers much time to prepare. If he didn’t make a quick decision, the next challenge might commence soon.
He saw Medisa returning to his side again; it appeared this silver elf girl thought he was about to take on the next challenge. The surroundings were quiet, with Kuran seemingly in deep thought, while the youths looked eagerly towards him.
…
(PS. When mentioning little people, it refers to a specific type of little person, not the readers. Don’t get too excited. If you ever encounter some people who come to criticize for no reason while you’re writing, it can dampen your mood. Authors are also human beings, social animals, not existing outside of society, you know? Sure, I wish I could stay home every day writing books without distractions, with meals served right in front of me, but is that possible?
I focus on perfection in my writing; I can’t produce works I’m not satisfied with. I get stuck when I’m not satisfied. Is it really my desire to have that happen? If I can’t update, you just have to read less; what do I lose? Money, reputation, friends, so much more.
Let me clarify, this book has no backlog and can’t keep one. I publish however much I write each day. If I can outbreak or catch up, I will definitely post it. Suggestions are welcome, and for those who like to just attack me, please hold back a bit; I have my pride and tolerance. If you think this book is not good, you’re free to not read it, like some people from LK. If you think the updates are unsatisfying, please refer to the monthly update chapters; as long as there’s no obstruction, this book absolutely won’t update slowly. Last month, there were about fifty chapters. The fastest month had almost ninety chapters. Personally, I think given the level of this book, that speed is exceedingly fast.
That’s that for now, as per usual, I seek votes. If you all are satisfied with this book, please support it. Today I will attempt to make up for yesterday’s update.)(To be continued. To know what happens next, please log in for more chapters and support the author with legitimate reading!)
