Chapter 97 – Leaving Town.
<span style="font-weight:400">The merchant adjusted his hat, squinting against the early morning sun as he watched thest of his cargo being loaded onto the wagon. Thick rolls of fabric - prized imports from the southern provinces -y neatly stacked, their vibrant patterns hidden under protective canvas. He ran a hand over the edge of the wagon, ensuring the ropes were securely tied, his fingers brushed against the coarse texture of the covering to check for any oddities.
<span style="font-weight:400">“... Did that part always stick out like that?”
<span style="font-weight:400">He noticed an oddity there, a little bit of the white fabric was sticking out. He leaned over in an attempt to check but right as he did, a voice from behind him resounded.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Are you finished? We need to leave, we are already behind schedule.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Ahh… yeah, everything is fine…”
<span style="font-weight:400">The man nodded and leaned away from the wagon where the fabric rolls were packed. With onest nce at the odd protrusion, he decided it wasn’t worth dying further inspection. Satisfied that the cargo was secure, he adjusted his hat once more and waved to the coachman.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Alright, let’s get moving!”
<span style="font-weight:400">The convoy began to rumble forward, the heavy wagons creaking as they rolled onto the cobblestone streets. Everything seemed in order, yet a persistent unease gnawed at him. The city had been in chaos since the battle with the cultistsst night. Word spread fast, even among those who kept their heads down. Now that a strange cult had been exposed in this city, the merchants wished to do nothing more than to get out. They knew that once the Ghelene believers entered the city, it was bad for business.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Do you think they will let us through?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I hope so, we should still make it … but it might be close.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Two of the merchants had a discussion as their wagons filled with wares rolled forward. They knew that these pdins would start searching every store and every part of the city for signs of this cult. The marketce would probably be closed and some of their wares could be confiscated due to these zealots, some of them who were corrupt. It was best to quickly leave the city and returnter once things had settled and these people had left.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Then we should hurry, do you have it?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yeah…”
<span style="font-weight:400">The man nodded, showing off arge sack to the other merchant. The ng of coins resonated as he shook it. Unbeknownst to them, the fabrics in the rear wagon began to shift. Nestled safely beneath the rolls of fabric was a silvery-white ant. She was not alone; beside hery a small metal helmet and a darkened orb of light.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Lady Gleam, it would be better if you stayed still,” Rusty whispered.
<span style="font-weight:400">“( >﹏< )”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Is it that ufortable? Sorry, Gleam, but we have to stay quiet for now. Once we’re outside the gates, we’ll have a chance to flee!”
<span style="font-weight:400">“(? ''? - ''? )?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s my Gleam!” Rusty encouraged hispanion, who was clearly struggling with the bumpy ride. The streets were paved with rough stones, making the wagon lurch and rattle as it moved. It was far from a smooth journey.
<span style="font-weight:400">Despite the difort, they needed to remain calm. If anyone discovered they were hiding among the merchant''s wares, it would spell disaster. Rusty, now without a proper adventurer’s body to inhabit, relied entirely on this escape n. The n was simple: stay concealed within the merchants'' goods and wait for the right moment to make their move. If all went well, they would escape together once they were safely beyond the city gates.
<span style="font-weight:400">The merchants'' convoy trundled along the cobbled streets, making its way toward the towering city gates. The sunlight was climbing higher, casting long shadows across the bustling thoroughfare. Around them, the city seemed tense, with citizens speaking in hushed tones and guards patrolling in pairs. Word of the cultist battle had spread like wildfire, and the looming presence of the Pdins of Ghelene only added to the unease.
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty, snugly nestled alongside Gleam beneath the tightly packed rolls of fabric, activated his Life Detection skill once more. It was faint at this distance, but it allowed him to sense movement outside their wagon - a subtle precaution as they neared the gates.
<span style="font-weight:400">The convoy slowed, and the distinct clink of armor grew louder. The guards stationed at the city gates were stopping each wagon for inspection. Their stern voices carried through the air as they ordered the merchants to halt.
<span style="font-weight:400">"All vehicles are subject to inspection."
<span style="font-weight:400">Barked one of the guards, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. Inside their wagon, Rusty felt Gleam twitch nervously. Her tiny antennae brushed against the fabric surrounding them, conveying her unease. He didn’t understand fear too much as he was still only a piece of armor but after using the possession skill and interacting with humans, he was quickly learning.
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty’s attention was divided between the people bustling around the gate and his SP count. Enough time had passed since their arrival for him to switch to a new loadout, if necessary. While he could fight if it came to that, he knew it wouldn’t be the best idea. The priority was to remain unnoticed. If worst came to worst, perhaps Gleam could escape on her own while he pretended to be nothing more than a small, ant-shaped helmet.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Stay calm, Gleam. Everything will be fine…”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty whispered reassuringly but he wondered if they would truly be fine.
<span style="font-weight:400">“( ó﹏ò )”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Listen to Rusty, Lady Gleam, even if they discover you, they’re unlikely to associate you with those madmen. You’re just an ant, and Rusty’s just a helmet. They might even assume you’re part of the merchant’s wares!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon’s tone was oddly gentle. Rusty suspected it was more out of self-preservation than genuine concern. If Gleam started trembling and drew attention, they’d all be discovered - and Aburdon would share in their fate. Rusty knew the demon king was only on his side because their lives were bound together. If Gleam were caught, Rusty would have no choice but to fight, and that was thest thing Aburdon wanted. For now, staying hidden and calm was the only path to survival.
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty could hear the murmurs of other merchants as they nervously handed over documents and coins, hoping to expedite the process. The clinking of armor drew closer, and Rusty activated his Life Detection skill again. One guard lingered near their wagon longer than the others.
<span style="font-weight:400">“What''s in here?”
<span style="font-weight:400">The guard asked, his voice gruff and filled with suspicion.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Just textiles, sir.”
<span style="font-weight:400">The merchant replied, trying to keep his tone even.
<span style="font-weight:400">“High-quality imports from the south. See for yourself.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty’s metaphorical heart sank as he felt the guard''s weight press against the side of the wagon. The canvas covering rustled as the guard untied a corner to peek inside. Gleam froze, her tiny body pressing deeper into the folds of fabric.
<span style="font-weight:400">“( >﹏< )...”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Don’t move, Gleam. Humans require their eyes to see, even if they touch you, just stay still!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty called out softly in a way only Gleam could hear. Meanwhile, the guard’s hand reached into the wagon, brushing against the fabric rolls. His fingers lingered dangerously close to Gleam’s hiding spot, and for an agonizing moment, Rusty braced for the worst. If the guard pulled her out, their entire n would crumble.
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty’s mind raced, formting contingencies. If the man grabbed Gleam, he would immediately activate his loadout. Appearing in hisrgest form would likely stun the guards, giving him just enough time to grab Gleam and run. He already knew theyout as this gate led to the F-rank dungeon where he had first emerged from.
<span style="font-weight:400">The city was encircled by a moat, meaning he would have to cross the bridge. He doubted the guards would let him escape without a chase, but he had a n. In the chaos, he couldunch Gleam into the safety of nearby bushes along with his helmet. From there, he would use his headless body as a decoy while his core and Gleam made their escape. It was a simple, desperate n, but it was all he had.
<span style="font-weight:400">Thankfully, it didn’te to that. After a tense moment, the guard withdrew his hand, leaving Gleam untouched. Rusty allowed himself a silent sigh of relief, knowing they had narrowly avoided disaster, at least, for now.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Looks fine to me.”
<span style="font-weight:400">The guard muttered while stepping back.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Move along.”
<span style="font-weight:400">The merchant exhaled and lowered his head at the guard.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Thank you, officer. Safe travels to you.”
<span style="font-weight:400">As the wagon began to roll forward again, Rusty felt a wave of relief wash over him. Gleam let out a tiny chirp of joy, her antennae quivering with excitement.
<span style="font-weight:400">“( ????? )!”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Well done, Lady Gleam.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon murmured.
<span style="font-weight:400">“You’ve nerves of steel for such a small creature.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“( ?_?’ )”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Why, you hurt medy Gleam, that you would use me of sarcasm!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Gleam seemed perceptive enough to sense Aburdon’s true inclinations, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. The convoy creaked onwards, its wheels groaning under the weight of merchant goods. Rusty remained vignt, relying on his limited-range life detection skill to keep track of everyone nearby.
<span style="font-weight:400">The caravanprised three carts filled with merchant goods, along with several other carriages. While there were plenty of people present, most of them didn’t appear battle-ready. This was a truth Rusty had only recently begun to grasp.
<span style="font-weight:400">Previously, he had assumed that the people of this world were more like adventurers: strong and willing to risk their lives inbat. However, the reality was different. Most of the poption wasn’t much stronger than an average F-rank monster. Many were part of the civilian ss, with roles such as viger or farmer - sses seemingly assigned to them at random.
<span style="font-weight:400">Around the age of ten, people in this world could visit a nearby shrine where they would be assigned a ss that would shape their future. Unlike monsters, who were inherently born for battle, these people had other purposes. Some were suited for crafting items, while others focused on farming or producing goods to trade and sell.
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty still didn’t fully understand the intricacies of this system, but one thing was clear: the majority of these people posed no threat to him or Gleam. While this knowledge offered a small measure of reassurance, it didn’t lessen Rusty’s vignce. His focus remained on the convoy, ever-watchful for any signs of danger. For now, at least, their presence went unnoticed.
<span style="font-weight:400">The convoy finally passed through the city gates, and the bustling noise of the city began to fade. Beyond the wallsy the open road, nked by fields and sparse clusters of trees. The merchants sighed in relief, their conversations shifting to lighter topics now that they were out of the guards'' reach.
<span style="font-weight:400">“The harvest has been thinningtely. I wonder if the gods are angry?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Perhaps, but luckily there are other ways we can earn our keep!”
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s true. Not every city has three dungeons nearby! We can upsell all these monster materials and even those textiles!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty overheard the two merchants discussing business and started to wonder when the best time would be to make his move. While he couldn’t see much around him except for Gleam and the fabric rolls, it was clear they were moving farther and farther from the city. The wagon he was in remained empty of other living beings, so he decided it was time to summon his second guide, Alexander. The familiar white orb of light appeared beside him, and with it, they could finally discuss their next steps.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Why isn’t it the useless hero?”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon sneered.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Shut it.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon wasted no time mocking Alexander for his absence during the fight with the cultists.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Why should I? But perhaps it''s for the best. Some of your friends showed up… That Priestess of Ghelene was there, wasn’t she?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“...”
<span style="font-weight:400">Alexander fell silent, as if unwilling to answer the question. Rusty wasn’t sure what was going on there, but it didn’t seem important. What mattered now was figuring out what he should do next. He had escaped the dungeon of his birth and left the city behind. The world was starting to open up to him, but he wasn’t sure how to survive in it. He needed to focus on his options, and he hoped that Alexander and Aburdon might have some ideas.
<span style="font-weight:400">“ ( ?? - ?? ) “
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yeah, they still argue the same as they did before… I’ve gotten used to it…”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty answered Gleam while the two listened to the two bicker like an old married couple again.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Quiet down you two, I need your help!”
<span style="font-weight:400">He finally gave the order, and the two guides fell silent immediately. Rusty had aplished several of his goals so far. The first was breaking free from the dungeon, which he had managed over a month ago. The second was rescuing Gleam, which was now nearlyplete. They just needed to escape the merchant convoy, and then they would be in the clear. But that was where things stalled as he wasn’t sure what his next goal should be.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Where should I go? What should I do?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Oh, quite the existential question there, Rusty.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon answered in the usual mocking tone. Rusty sighed metaphorically, wishing he could roll his nonexistent eyes.N?v(el)B\\jnn
<span style="font-weight:400">“I’m serious. We’re out of the city, and for now, we’re safe. But…”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty tried to continue but Alexander quickly interrupted him.
<span style="font-weight:400">“But you are afraid that something bad will happen in the future if you just aimlessly set out into the wide open world?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Uh… something like that…”
<span style="font-weight:400">He had been born a monster, something that should have remained in a dungeon, bound to its dark confines. But now he was free, and the world seemed to be his oyster - a very terrifying oyster. Rusty had believed himself to be rtively strongpared to the average adventurer. He had aced the tests and even managed to kill monsters like orcs. However, after encountering that one mage - andter, the High Priest - he wasn’t so sure he was ready to face the great unknown. There were forces in this world that could crush him like a bug. If he and Gleam were to survive and thrive, they needed to grow stronger before challenging such powerful beings. And yet, despite the fear, a part of him yearned for those battles.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Or perhaps he’s contemting his life?”
<span style="font-weight:400">Abrudon asked, breaking the silence.
<span style="font-weight:400">“My life?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Why, yes! You are now free of the shackles that once bound you. Ready to set out and conquer the world!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Abrudon dered with an almost theatrical flourish.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Conquer the world?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Indeed! You must set your sights high, my dear Rusty. Why not aspire to be the next Demon King? With my help, you could easily bring the Demonic Dukes under your control. And this time…”
<span style="font-weight:400">Abrudon began cackling like the viin he once was. Despite the grandiosity of his words, there was an undeniable truth to them. Rusty felt it too - an unquenchable yearning to experience all that this world had to offer. He wanted to push himself, to use every ounce of his skill, and to challenge the truly powerful forces that roamed thisnd.
<span style="font-weight:400">There was so much he longed to do, so much he ached to see, that the fear of the open world that had once gripped him began to fade. In its ce, a growing sense of excitement and hunger took root - a yearning for the boundless possibilities ahead.
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