Chapter 292 - Embark (2)
Northeast from the city of the Midros Autonomous Territory.
Beyond the wide forest between two snow-covered mountains lay a vast wheat field. A long-standing land that had been responsible for the region's food supply since long before the birth of the Autonomous Territory.
At its center stood a large village called Wells Town.
The carriage of Big Hand, Jerik, headed toward the outskirts.
Verden, floating in the sky while using
'A peaceful village.'
Most of the citizens were farmers, and perhaps because it was a food-producing region, no starving beggars were to be seen.
A simple abundance, free of extravagance.
That was Verden's impression of Wells Town.
Neighhh───!
At length, the carriage stopped before a wooden building on the outskirts.
Jerik carefully climbed down, pulled a key from his breast pocket, and undid the metal lock. A dust-stained chain scraped across the ground as the door was opened.
Dark mold spread across parts of the wall.
The granary was so decayed that a single strong blow could pierce the wall. To anyone's eyes it looked abandoned, but the floor told otherwise.
On the dust-laden ground were faint wheel tracks and box edges. Traces left behind by something being dragged and moved.
"What are you staring blankly for? We've arrived, so get to moving!"
At Jerik's command, the coachmen hurried to work.
The supplies loaded on the carriage were carried one by one into a corner of the warehouse. They were the boxes of Faver that Verden had stored in subspace.
It wasn't long before the simple task ended, and the carriages departed toward the village center.
Thus, only Jerik and the goods remained in the granary.
Descending to the ground and entering the building, Verden released
"Th-the goods will be picked up in about two hours. It'll be boring and troublesome to wait, but these people are extremely cautious. If things don't appear as they usually do, they might not even come here."
At the promised time and place, only the parties to the deal were to be present. The number of carriages, the number of people brought—these were fixed.
Not more, not less.
That was the rule, and Jerik had never once broken it until today. He didn't know what kind of group they were, but they looked frighteningly dangerous.
Cross them the wrong way, and there'd be nothing left.
'But the same goes for this side...!'
A crazy mage who had suddenly appeared and subdued all the mercenaries.
Had he resisted or tried to fight back, he wouldn't be sitting here unharmed. Either way, cooperation was the best choice.
Die immediately, or reveal information and face consequences later...
He wanted to grab his fortune and flee, but that wasn't possible right now. There was only one choice.
So judged Jerik, who until recently had lived scraping together petty profits.
"Ah, come to think of it, there's nowhere to sit. I'll bring a few boxes."
"No need."
Mana stirred, and the terrain rippled.
Two decent-looking chairs with backs rose before them.
Verden sat back in the left chair, and Jerik, hesitating awkwardly, quietly took the other.
Verden's gaze fixed on the tightly shut entrance.
'Let's see how this unfolds.'
Wells Town.
To be honest, it didn't seem suitable as the base of a faction. All the more so if it was some third force with much to hide.
He could not find any overt watching eyes.
Wondering if there might be some structure underground, he tried using mana detection, but found nothing in particular.
'Though it's possible they've blocked external mana detection....'
It was difficult to conclude rashly.
Whatever the case, he had to grasp a lead here.
He had already spent no small amount of time and effort in the Midros Autonomous Territory. Now it was time to gain results.
...
Time passed, and unfamiliar presences approached.
Creeeeak.
The granary door opened, and three figures entered.
A group of mages clad in robes of soft fabric. At the front, a gaunt man moved his bloodshot eyes.
Jerik, and Verden.
A phlegmy rasp escaped the man's lips.
"An uninvited guest... I see."
***
Verden's magical senses stirred.
The newcomers in the food storehouse: one lower 4th-tier, two mid 3rd-tier. Levels and appearances ill-suited to this rural village.
'That's the answer.'
Enemies of the Bohemirn magic tower.
At last, contact with the third faction.
The man's head tilted menacingly.
"Jerik... what does this mean?"
"Th-that is, this person said h-he wanted to trade with you, so I had no choice...."
"Didn't I tell you... to keep to the rules?"
The air chilled in an instant.
Murderous intent pressed from the three men, and Jerik, unable to speak properly, only opened and closed his mouth soundlessly.
The misery of the powerless.
At that moment, Verden spoke.
"I heard you buy tobacco at a high price. I happen to have quite a bit, and I also have another proposal, so I came in person."
"Uninvited guests... are not welcomed."
"That depends on the goods, doesn't it?"
Verden tossed a paper stick.
It was barely the size of an index finger. The man caught it lightly, started to speak, then, realizing what it was, twitched his brows.
"This is... Faver?"
At once he raised it to his nose.
Sssnff. The unique bitter scent pricked his senses.
He cast a sidelong glance at Verden, then placed the Faver between his lips.
Flame kindled at his fingertip, igniting the wick. He inhaled with all his might.
"Huuhhh...!!!"
As black smoke seeped into his lungs, his body writhed.
Temporarily dilated blood vessels, accelerated blood flow.
Awakened senses pounded mercilessly against his brain. Burning the Faver down in one go, the man licked his lips and exhaled a deep sigh.
His eyes flushed a deeper crimson.
"Genuine... without doubt. Those boxes in the back... all Faver?"
"See for yourself."
The man unfolded
With the enhanced magical computation granted by Faver, one box flew to land at his feet. He immediately tore off the lid, and the fragrance of Faver filled the air.
Hostility had already vanished.
What remained in the man was interest and curiosity.
"What's your purpose, coming here...?"
If selling was the goal, he would have done it through Jerik.
Surely he hadn't come directly just to save a commission. He wasn't the kind of fool to stake his life for petty coin.
And having this much Faver was proof enough he wasn't an ordinary man.
Verden spoke.
"I want a private meeting with your leader."
"The reason."
"Exactly what I said, for business. For example, a regular supply of Faver."
The man reacted more strongly this time.
Tobacco could be made as long as materials were at hand, distribution was the issue.
But Faver, its formula wasn't even known yet.
Until precise analysis was completed and a conclusion reached, for now, it could only be obtained through the Central Continent.
For those already addicted to tobacco, the offer of a stable Faver supply was one they could not refuse.
'Of course, it's a lie.'
Verden neither had the means, nor the intention.
Faver was nothing more than bait, a lure to reach their leader.
To judge whether this third faction was worth building upon.
To approach in goodwill, it was the method he chose.
Better suited than recklessly crushing them with force.
"Supply... you say..."
The man muttered.
He wet his lips several times, staring at the Faver. After some long hesitation, he asked,
"Your... name?"
"Asher."
Verden's blue eyes flickered.
"Tell them, I came from Roafra."
***
Crunch, crunch.
The sound of fruit being chewed echoed through the chamber.
On a dais wide enough for several men to sit, lounged a hulking figure, Kendras.
In the blink of an eye he had emptied a basket, then belched.
"Urgh, edible enough. Anyway, to repeat what you said..."
Kendras tilted his chin.
A shadow fell across the scarred neck.
"You're saying, some Asher from Roafra showed up out of nowhere, wanting to become a supplier of Faver? Happen, did I get that right?"
"In context... yes."
The man, Happen, approached.
He handed the Faver he had received earlier to Kendras, conjuring a small flame with magic.
Kendras flinched as the black smoke filled his lungs.
Crack! His muscles pulsed, smashing one armrest to splinters. His senses sharpened in an instant, and power and aura surged uncontrollably within him.
"The quality...! Haa, quite good."
"So then, what will you... do?"
"Hmm, let's see."
Kendras rubbed at the corner of his mouth.
"The Magic Tower of the Volcanic Island and the Larrian Magic Tower said not to interfere with strangers, but... if he can secure Faver regularly, that's different. Killing intruders is also a rule, but since he had the guts to come directly, I'll let it slide."
And then.
"I didn't feel like going to the banquet tonight anyway, but well, this should be enough to kill time. Tell Sedwordy and Palin to amuse themselves, and bring that Asher before me."
"And the one who broke the promise... Jerik, how shall he be dealt with?"
"Change him later, whatever. No time to fuss over such small fry."
Happen bowed his head and withdrew.
Left alone, Kendras hefted his mace and swung it. As the speed grew faster, red flames began to rise from it.
The heightened senses from Faver were undeniable.
Still.
"So the rumored new king of the underworld has come...."
Claiming he wanted to be a supplier of Faver.
Quite intriguing.
Loosening his body lightly, Kendras grinned.
***
The sun set, and the moon rose in the sky.
During that time, Verden stayed at the inn where Jerik lodged.
After finishing a modest supper, when the clock's hands had circled twice, the man Happen, to whom he had handed the Faver, came.
"Get in... here."
A carriage, its interior completely hidden, not even windows, more like a prison.
It didn't seem meant solely for prisoners, however. There was the faintest sense of mana, as if some magic circle had been inscribed inside.
'For security, perhaps.'
It didn't matter.
Without a word, Verden boarded.
Thud. Clack.
From outside, the door was firmly locked.
Darkness filled the interior around Verden. The outside was completely cut off, even the rattling vibrations of the carriage could not be felt.
Somewhat cozy, in its way.
Of course, he had no intention of simply following along.
'There it is.'
Verden immediately located the concealed magic circles.
Two high-level concealment circles, of different types, overlapped and compounded. Even at a glance, a rarity not easily seen in the world.
Were they carved by one of the two magic towers?
Thinking so, he drew out a thread of mana from his fingertip. Breaking through magic circles was one of Verden's specialties.
Crack, crkkk.
He didn't destroy the core—since total destruction wasn't the goal.
Instead, he burrowed into the mana's flow paths, temporarily cutting off the currents feeding certain functions.
At that very moment, sound and vibration returned from outside the carriage.
'Since becoming a Quasi-Transcendent, I think my dispelling has grown faster.'
A body completed after passing through two Defying the Heavens.
The magical senses inherent within him had surpassed their limits.
Once again realizing his own level, Verden focused his senses.
Mana, activated through the Demon King's method of manipulation, stretched out stealthily. He felt the presence of a building that seemed to be some sort of warehouse.
Expanding further, he detected a space that appeared to be somewhere within Wells Town.
'Not outside, but within the town....'
Voices drifted in.
───A guest of Lord Kendras...
───Yes, confirmed, Sir Happen.
A bespectacled mage inserted a key into the wall and turned it.
The floor, until now undetected, sank down, opening a path leading underground.
Was this the base where Kendras and his faction hid?
How had they evaded mana detection? That question was soon answered.
As the carriage descended underground, Verden's mana waves distorted violently.
'...So that's why I couldn't find it.'
Now he saw it—devices suppressing mana had been laid throughout.
From even a short distance, detection from outside would be nearly impossible.
Though weaker in strength, their effect certainly extended through the underground interior.
'Still, it doesn't fully obstruct Arcane-enhanced
But as he entered deeper, the detectable range shrank greatly.
More so here, where the touch of the magic towers was especially strong, the magical security was stricter than expected.
That meant this faction held considerable value to the two towers.
'Perhaps that's fortunate.'
The mysterious swordsman, and Aldamia's Clowns.
Thanks to these measures, the kidnappers of the Territory Lord hadn't struck yet.
Creak, thud.
With a metallic crash, the entrance sealed shut.
The carriage Verden rode thundered onward, descending into the ancient underground of Wells Town.
The mercenaries of the Bohemirn magic tower, the Society, Verden.
Among those pursuing the third faction, it was Verden who arrived at the base first.
You can read more chapters in organised way on my website:- https://revengernovel.com