Chapter 98 – Future ns.
<span style="font-weight:400">“You want Rusty to fight a Demonic Duke? I thought you were mad, but this is outright idiotic.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“He has to aim big! With those fascinating abilities he has, and the Soul Forge, it will be possible!”
<span style="font-weight:400">“You just want him to take your revenge on the Dukes who betrayed you.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Alexander interjected sharply, his voice, as always, tinged with annoyance.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Don’t think I don’t see through your ploy, Aburdon. You’re trying to convince Rusty to fight your battles for you.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon chuckled, and if he hadn’t been just an orb of light, the sound would have been a menacing cackle.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Oh, Alexander, always so quick to use. Of course, I want revenge. Those treacherous dogs turned their backs on me, and the mere thought of it sets my soul aze. But tell me, hero, is revenge truly such a terrible thing?”
<span style="font-weight:400">Alexander folded his arms - or at least gave the impression of doing so as a glowing sphere of light.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yes, when it consumes you like this. Rusty isn’t a tool for your vengeance. He deserves to make his own path, not inherit your grudges.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“And what about you, Alexander? Don’t tell me you don’t harbor grudges of your own. What about thepanions who abandoned you, the people you couldn’t save, the choices that haunt you? Don’t stand there on your pedestal and pretend you’re free of bitterness.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Alexander red brightly for a moment, but soon his light dimmed.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s not the same, Aburdon. I won’t let the past chain me or dictate my actions.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“It’s not? Don’t lie to me, hero. I know how you feel. I know what emotions stir within you - especially after seeing those Pdins of Ghelene. What was that woman’s name… ah, right, Seraphina. Did she not betray you? Along with all those other fake ‘heroes’?”
<span style="font-weight:400">Alexander’s light wavered, flickering like a torch caught in the wind. For a moment, the hero’s orb dimmed to near darkness.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s enough! Can you two stop flickering around? You’re going to get us caught!”
<span style="font-weight:400">“( ?? - ?? )”
<span style="font-weight:400">Gleam nodded subtly as the two orbs continued their ruckus. While their voices could only be heard by her and Rusty, their flickering lights were visible, drawing attention. The more they moved erratically, the greater the risk of being noticed by the merchants or anyone nearby. Rusty shifted his focus back to the present, realizing that if the two guides couldn’t contain their rivalry, it might endanger their fragile escape n.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Look, I’m not sure who these Demon Dukes are, but first, we need to get out of here. I need you two to focus! Now, what do you suggest I do to escape?”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty found the idea of facing powerful enemies intriguing, but this wasn’t the time for such conversations. He was still stuck inside a cart filled with textiles, and Gleam was beginning to look tired. Unlike him - a seemingly immortal piece of armor that didn’t need rest - Gleam was just a regr monster. She needed food and sleep. Her usual diet of mana crystals from the underground dungeon was unavable here, and the strain was beginning to show.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Depends on what our goal is,” Aburdon mused. “We could jump out into the bushes and make a run for it. I doubt those adventurers would give chase for long. They’re here to guard the merchants, not hunt monsters.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Our goal…”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty repeated, his voice trailing off as he contemted this issue.
<span style="font-weight:400">“(?—?—)”
<span style="font-weight:400">Gleam offered no response, looking as though she was about to fall asleep. Her weariness triggered a memory for Rusty - the day they first met. Gleam had fallen asleep on him after his evolution, in the safety of a cave filled with crystals. It had been a simpler time, spent hunting monsters with the reassurance of having a safe ce to return to. Maybe that was what they needed now.
<span style="font-weight:400">“How about… a ce to stay first?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Oh? A ce to stay? Do you wish to have a home? I thought you were more the adventurous type.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty’s proposal clearly caught Aburdon off guard. Monsters like him - living armor were not known for building homes. They usually wandered aimlessly, driven by instincts. However, Rusty was not a simple monster, he had his own goals and even fears. He knew that having a hideout was needed for survival.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Having a base toe back to is a good start, but the question is, where?”
<span style="font-weight:400">Alexander chimed in, directing his words not to Rusty but to Aburdon.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Well... we’re heading to one of the nearby cities, but there are many more ahead. Rusty could always take on the form of a fallen adventurer - or perhaps one of the locals...”
<span style="font-weight:400">“One of the locals? What do you mean?”
<span style="font-weight:400">Alexander asked.
<span style="font-weight:400">“With Rusty’s unique skills, why not have him be an artisan? Arger home with a workshop would provide the perfect cover for our nocturnal activities. Even without the soul forge, he should be able to craft simple weapons to keep up his guise.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon exined, a faint smugness in his voice.
<span style="font-weight:400">“You want him to be an artisan? Like what, a cksmith?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Precisely!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon’s tone brightened with enthusiasm.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Why should Rusty limit himself to just one persona? With his versatile loadout, he can easily switch between multiple identities. Imagine it - if he were a respected resident of the city, we wouldn’t have to keep running! Even if one of his identities bes a criminal, we can just discard it!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Alexander’s light flickered in contemtion as he saw the merit in this proposal.
<span style="font-weight:400">“I see... that’s not even a stupid idea.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I do not propose stupid ideas, hero. I leave those to you!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon gloated, his tone practically dripping with self-satisfaction. Rusty, meanwhile, deliberated over the suggestion. The notion of adopting a stable cover and building a ce to call home had its appeal, especially given their current circumstances.
<span style="font-weight:400">His guide was right. If Rusty had another body to upy, one with a good enough reputation, perhaps he wouldn’t need to leave the city at all. It was a sprawling ce, and the Pdins were unlikely to search homes without cause. Right now, though, he was on the run, with no clear direction for the future. The idea of finding a ce he could gradually develop into a sanctuary was bing increasingly appealing.
<span style="font-weight:400">“That doesn’t sound bad, but where should I stay?”
<span style="font-weight:400">The two orbs turned toward him, their flickering movements slowing as they noticed his genuine interest in the idea.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Well, I do know the map of the area. We’ve got a few options to consider… There are three cities nearby that might serve as a starting point.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon began while Alexander decided to wait before adding his own two cents.
<span style="font-weight:400">“First is Dallbrim, a port city close to the western coastline. It’s bustling with trade, particrly shipbuilding and repairs. You’d have easy ess to imported materials for your soul forge. If you posed as a cksmith or armorer, you’d blend in perfectly.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Dallbrin huh? I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, the nearest dungeon is far away, it’s a port city with a lot of trade but I’m not sure if we would be able to earn enough coin to buy a workshop…”
<span style="font-weight:400">There were several problems with this choice and one of them was theck of a dungeon.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Rusty you used up all of your money right?”
<span style="font-weight:400">Asked Alexander.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yes? Ah, without a dungeon, I won’t be able to earn any money!”
<span style="font-weight:400">“That’s right and another thing, I’m not sure how well the locals would ept a cksmith that wears heavy armor all the time, some of them might get suspicious…”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Hah, nonsense, we’ll just cover him up with a robe so no one will be the wiser!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon replied to Alexander while Rusty shook along with the wagon they were in. Gleam at this point had already managed to doze of and wasn’t even listening to what they were talking about.@@novelbin@@
<span style="font-weight:400">“I’m not sure if that would work… but perhaps…”
<span style="font-weight:400">“... Or you could go to ckthorn Hold! It’s near a vastwork of caves with an E-rank dungeon at its heart. Perfect for gathering rare materials and gaining strength. The city itself is rough, though - more of a haven for mercenaries and thieves than respectable artisans. But if you’re looking for somewhere to grow stronger without too many prying eyes, it’s ideal.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Alexander flickered in disagreement.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yes, if you enjoy living in a pit ofwlessness and filth.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“You’ve beenining a lot, but I don’t see you offering any better options. Dear Rusty, it’s probably best not to trust our hero’s bad memories of these ces. Just trust in my knowledge instead!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon cackled, his voice filled with amusement. He had thoroughly studied all the information from both guilds, and Rusty knew this guide of his wasn’t always motivated by his best interests. It was likely that at one of the locations, Aburdon had something to gain. One of the ces was a bustling area filled with merchants - no shortage ofmerce, but certainly no opportunities for earning through monster hunting. The other, however, was more like a den of thieves, where Rusty would have to be on constant alert for corrupt officials and robbers. Luckily, he still had the thieves’ guild coin, tied not to his old Albert persona, but to his current self. It might give him an advantage in that shady location.
<span style="font-weight:400">“How about we find a developing city? Somewhere where the prices are low and people are actually looking for an artisan. We won’t have much luck in ces that have long-running history.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“But where then?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“I’m not sure…”
<span style="font-weight:400">“If you aren’t sure, then don’t speak!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon snorted.
<span style="font-weight:400">"How quaint. Such ces are nothing but breeding grounds for underdeveloped economies and local corruption. There is a reason why they are failures, we should go to an already developed city!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty started to consider Aburdon''s point, but he wasn’t entirely convinced. His goal wasn''t just about making money - it was about building a future where he couldy low, build strength, and protect Gleam. A less popted city offered fewer variables working against him but in arger one, he would be able to hide himself among the crowd to avoid detection.
<span style="font-weight:400">"What about somewhere between the two? A smaller city with trade, but also amunity where I could grow without attracting too much attention. It doesn’t have to be a major port or a city with multiple dungeons around it.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“So, a ce that already is showing hope? Hmm… Well, there was a city like that. I wouldn’t say that it’s developed but much better than the average small town. However, it''s near an area with orc tribes and some other barbaric tribes. It has a dungeon but it is unable to prosper due to the constant conflicts nearby.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Oh, what is its name?”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty asked as the description sounded quite interesting. A ce with ample battle outside but also one where he could retreat behind some strong walls and rest.
<span style="font-weight:400">“It’s called Ferndale.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon said, with a hint of reluctance.
<span style="font-weight:400">“It''s located at the edge of a forest region, right on the border between civilizednds and the wild territories. The dungeon there is said to be only partially explored, which could be used to our advantage as an out-of-ce living armor, wouldn’t be seen as strange.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty’s interest was piqued. In the previous city, his presence had been too unique, always drawing the attention of adventurers. But perhaps in this new dungeon, he could find a ce to continue his leveling efforts. Once the day broke, he could return to his new base of operations with all the loot he’d gathered. By day, he would be a humble artisan, blending in with the city’s residents; by night, a menace within the dungeon, hunting for more power.
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty was deep in thought as the wagon trundled along. The discussions between Aburdon and Alexander had given him plenty to consider, and Ferndale seemed like the most bnced option. Yet, they weren’t free to make any decisions just yet. First, they needed to escape.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Let’s decide after we’re out of this mess.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty said decisively. He nced over at Gleam, who was now softly snoring.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Agreed.”
<span style="font-weight:400">Alexander responded.
<span style="font-weight:400">“We can make nster. First, we need to get off this wagon and out of sight.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Finally, something we can all agree on! But if I may propose something?”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon chimed in, his tone smug as always.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Yes?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“We should probably remain here a while longer. This caravan is heading toward the port city of Dallbrin. Around halfway, we’ll reach a crossroads - likely in two days’ time. These merchants are sure to take a break there. Once night falls, we can make our escape and decide where you wish to go next, Rusty.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“And we entered a wagon heading to the first city you propose, by ident huh?”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Oh? Are you using me of something, hero?”
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty rolled his non-existing eye sockets while letting the two bicker for longer. He decided to go along with this n and wait for these two days. This whole situation made him want to create a smaller version of his armor, something that could hide in small areas like this while being able to move.
<span style="font-weight:400">The journey continued uneventfully over the next two days. The merchants talked amongst themselves, asionally checking the cargo but thankfully never suspecting anything unusual. Gleam managed to regain some energy, though she remained cautious, curling up beside Rusty to avoid drawing attention.
<span style="font-weight:400">By the time the caravan reached the crossroads, dusk was falling, painting the horizon in shades of orange and purple. The merchants decided to make camp, setting up a ring of wagons and lighting fires for warmth and cooking. Rusty, hidden deep within the textile cart, waited patiently, his thoughts focused on the mission.
<span style="font-weight:400">As the night deepened, the camp grew quiet. The merchants and their guards had taken turns on watch but seemed otherwise rxed. Gleam stretched beside him, her ant features shimmering faintly in the moonlight filtering through the gaps in the cart.
<span style="font-weight:400">“It’s time.”
<span style="font-weight:400">“Finally!”
<span style="font-weight:400">Aburdon urged Rusty while both he and Alexander upied his helmet. Once there they made his eye sockets glow, one in a more radiant white while the other remained a sinister ck. However, right as Rusty was about to activate his loadout and change into his more slender form, something unexpected happened. An arrow came flying from the distance, striking their cart along with the others as shouts erupted from the darkness beyond the camp.
<span style="font-weight:400">Rusty froze in ce, his senses sharpening as he scanned the surroundings with his life detection skill. The merchants stirred from their sleep, guards scrambling to grab their weapons.
<span style="font-weight:400">“Bandits?!”
<span style="font-weight:400">People shouted and his skill confirmed it, the whole camp was surrounded and perhaps waiting for the best moment to escape had been a mistake...