The Invaders of the Great Tomb

by Kugane Maruyama

  “Wonder what I should buy…?”

  The list of magic items he wanted was endless. He figured it would be better to prioritize defensive accessories for the moment. Though there was one more thing. It was unrelated but something he wanted.

  “I’ll save up money for that separately…and use what’s left to buy magic items for adventures. Er, is that backward? I’ll buy the items and any left over will go toward that.”

  Hekkeran scratched his head.

  But then…

  “As the one out front I should raise my magic resistance. Maybe it’s about time to cut into my savings. Ah, but assuming we’re going to the Katze Plain to make some cash exterminating undead, I should be on guard against toxins and stuff, so maybe items that boosts resistance to poison, paralysis, and sickness would be better.”

  Magic items were extremely expensive, and the types adventurers were liable to want—ones useful in combat—tended to cost even more. Unique items fetched prices that kept them out of Hekkeran’s reach.

  The items he had in mind at the moment weren’t so extreme, but they would still cost a normal person’s annual pay several times over. It was an expensive shopping trip. He had to decide carefully.

  His expression, a bit giddy in anticipation of a splurge, tightened up the moment his eyes met those of a knight.

  A duo composed of two knights, wearing heavy and light armor respectively, stood on the corner keeping watch over the area.

  This district, where the shrines to the Four Gods were located, was known for its strict security. The knights wouldn’t question ordinary passersby, but Hekkeran sensed their gazes beginning to focus on the weapons hanging from his hips.

  He didn’t know how it was for adventurers, but as a worker with no support, he definitely didn’t want to get in a fight with a knight.

  His wish was heard, and he managed to traverse the shrine area without being stopped by the knights comparing faces with wanted flyers.

  Hekkeran definitely had things to hide. Relieved, he shifted his gaze down the road and saw, quite a ways in the distance, a peculiar structure. At the same time, he heard a cheer on the wind—along with something like a bloodthirsty battle cry.

  This unique building could only be found in the imperial capital: the Grand Arena. It was one of the city’s most popular sights.

  Since he saw his fill of blood in his line of work without going to the arena, and he wasn’t interested in gambling, the place held little fascination for him. Still, as one might expect for the most popular entertainment for the masses (for the nobles, it was the theater), they were having a full house if the cheers were anything to go by.

  “Must be the final round of the main fight, judging from the hubbub.”

  The worker team Hekkeran led had appeared once for work in a program where they were pit against a succession of magical beasts. Surrender wasn’t allowed in beast fights; in other words, defeat meant death. Of course, people also died in human-on-human battles. There was rarely an arena day that ended without a death. No, the more people died, the more feverish the atmosphere.

  And out of all the deadly events, the most popular was the tournament.

  Hekkeran shrugged.

  He’d lost interest completely. He didn’t feel like staring at a bloody, reeking battlefield on his day off. The only reason he couldn’t get it out of his head was that arena events made for good conversation starters in all sorts of places.

  I never want to go to the arena again, but when I get back later, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to ask someone about the events.

  Making a mental note, Hekkeran continued walking down the street lined with stores on either side. Before long he came upon the familiar sign of the Singing Apple.

  It was a pub and inn said to have started with a gathering of bards who played instruments made from apple trees. The interior was surprisingly nice. No drafts, and the floors were polished clean. Granted, it cost a fair amount, too, but it wasn’t beyond their means. For Hekkeran’s group—no, workers in general—one could even say it was the best inn.

  Certainly, compared to the most high-class inn the imperial capital had to offer, it was inferior on every level. But those fancy places were perfect for adventurers, not workers.

  First of all, most of the jobs that came workers’ ways were dirty, so requesters would hesitate to show up somewhere it would be conspicuous to visit. On the other hand, basing their operations in a rough part of town could invite trouble.

  The other reason requesters liked the Singing Apple was that multiple worker teams could stay there. Since there was no guild for workers like there was for adventurers, people who wanted to hire a team had to track them down on their own. If they were scattered all over the place, business would have been inconvenient.

  One advantage workers had was that by staying at the same inn, they developed a sense of closeness, and they ended up avoiding jobs that would involve killing one another.

  Last but certainly not least, the food at the Singing Apple was delicious.

  Hekkeran walked through the door with his mind on the evening meal. He thought it would be great if they served his favorite, pork stew.

  The words that leaped into his ears when he went inside were not “Welcome back” or “How was your day?” from his friends.

  “—Which is why I said I don’t know!”

  “Even so—”

  “It’s not like I’m her guardian or something. We’re not family. How should I know where she is?”

  “Aren’t you friends? Even if you say you don’t know, I can’t just say, ‘Oh, I see,’ and be on my way. This is for work.”

  A man and woman were glaring at each other in the center of the pub and dining hall on the first floor.

  Hekkeran knew the woman very well.

  There was nothing special about her face and its currently hostile look. What attracted the most attention was her longer than normal ears. That said, they were only about half as long as an elf’s. Yes, she was half-elf.

  Elves were more slender creatures than humans, and it was clear from a glance that she shared their blood. She was thin overall, and neither her chest nor her backside had any trace of smooth feminine curves. She was flat as a washboard. From her build alone, even up close, she was liable to be mistaken for a man.

  She wore formfitting leather armor. She wasn’t carrying her usual bow and quiver, but instead, a dagger dangled from her hip.

  Her name was Imina. She was one of Hekkeran’s teammates.

  But the man facing her was someone he didn’t know.

  He was bobbing his head to beg her pardon, but his eyes didn’t seem sorry at all. On the contrary, there was something unpleasant in them. Judging from his humble attitude, though, he didn’t seem to be a total idiot.

  With his arms and chest practically bursting with muscles, his appearance alone made his presence seem like a threat. He was probably someone who wouldn’t hesitate to use violence, but he couldn’t hope to appeal to Imina by force.

  Why? Because although she looked delicate, enough ability lurked within her that she could kill a cocky hoodlum with no trouble.

  “But it’s like I’ve been telling you!”

  At this shrill, greatly irritated scream, Hekkeran interrupted. “Imina, what are you doing?”

  Imina turned around, just then noticing him at the sound of his voice, and looked surprised.

  It seemed that despite her superior ranger senses, she had lost herself in the conversation and failed to sense him. The oversight spoke to how agitated she must have been.

  “…What do you want?” the man asked in a threatening tone, clearly considering Hekkeran an intruder. His eyes were hostile, and it seemed like he might start throwing punches at any moment. Of course, to Hekkeran, who had faced ferocious monsters and lived, the man’s threats were worth about a wry grin.

  “…He’s our leader.”

  “Ohhh, well then. Hekkeran Termite, correct? I’ve heard so m
uch about you.”

  The man’s expression morphed dramatically into an ingratiating smile, making Hekkeran hate him just a bit.

  He didn’t know why the man had come, but he had made it all the way here—to their base. The possibility he didn’t know Hekkeran was practically nonexistent.

  The threat in the man’s voice had likely been to gauge what kind of person Hekkeran was. If he backed off even a little, the man probably would have continued in that high-handed vein.

  Some workers and adventurers had no problem slaying monsters but were reluctant to face humans. Of course, most of them would take a mile if given an inch and attack to kill.

  He threatens me to decide who’s top dog the moment we meet? I just can’t…get myself to like this kind of guy.

  Hekkeran knew that it was just one way of negotiating, an obvious technique. But he didn’t like that sort of negotiation. He liked his business straightforward with no hidden purposes.

  “Shh. This is an inn, you know. There are other guests here, too, so could you keep it down?”

  That’s what he said, but actually, there were no other guests to be seen—or, for that matter, employees.

  It wasn’t as if they were hiding. To workers, this amount of commotion was like a morsel to go with their drinks. It was only by chance that no one was around.

  Hekkeran gave the man a hard stare. It was too much to stand tall against the piercing eyes of a warrior who would have been mythril rank as an adventurer. The stranger shrank as if he were facing a magical beast.

  “Oh no, no, no. My apologies, but I can’t do that.” The man lowered his voice slightly and was about to continue. The fact that he could do that under Hekkeran’s gaze meant he had to be in some line of work—most likely the violent kind—that exercised strength.

  What in the world is a guy like this doing here?

  Granted, he himself did underworld work, but he didn’t know this man nor had he any idea why he should be getting so much attitude from him. The guy definitely didn’t seem to be fulfilling a request.

  Confused, Hekkeran softened his eyes and decided to ask the man and hear it from him. “Who are you?”

  “There you go. I came to meet an associate of yours, Mr. Termite, Miss Furt.”

  Only one person by the name of Furt came to mind.

  I can’t imagine her having anything to do with this guy. As her friend who had fought through numerous life-and-death battles with her, that’s what Hekkeran concluded. So this must be some kind of trouble.

  “Arché? What about her?”

  “Arché…? Oh, right. I was confused for a second because we only ever call her Miss Furt. Arché Eeb Rile Furt, yes.”

  “So?! What about her?”

  “Eh, I’d just like a word with her… It’s a private matter, so could you tell me what time she’ll be back?”

  “How should I know?” Hekkeran ended the conversation gruffly. He was so forceful, the man blinked a few times. “Is this conversation over?”

  “I—I guess I have no choice. I’ll just wait a little—”

  “Get lost.” Hekkeran jerked his jaw toward the entrance.

  The man’s eyelids fluttered again.

  “I’ll make myself clear. I don’t like you, and it doesn’t seem like I ever will. I can’t stand having guys like that anywhere I can see.”

  “This is a pub, and I’m—”

  “Yeah. You’re right, it is a pub. A place where people get drunk and start fights…” Hekkeran grinned at the man. “Relax. Even if you get caught in a brawl and end up seriously wounded, we have a priest who can use healing magic. All you have to do is pay, and we’ll fix you up.”

  “Of course, there’s a surcharge. Otherwise, the shrines get upset. No way I want the shrines to send an assassin after us,” Imina chimed in, wearing a villainous sneer. “But, well, for you we can discount it. You’d be grateful for that, wouldn’t you?”

  “You heard her.”

  “Are you trying to threa…?” The man’s words trailed off—because he saw the worker’s expression change dramatically.

  Hekkeran took a big step forward, closing in to the point that each other’s faces filled their fields of vision.

  “Huh? Threaten? Who, me? It’s not so rare for a fight to break out in a pub, right? I’m giving you a friendly warning, and you say I’m threatening you? Are you trying to…start something?”

  Hekkeran’s face, the veins of his brow bulging, was one of a man who had survived countless life-and-death battles.

  Defeated, the other man backed up a step but clicked his tongue as his last act of defiance. Then he set off hurriedly toward the door. He was frantically trying to keep up appearances, but it was clear at a glance that just beneath that surface, he was spooked. When he reached the door, he turned just his head and snapped at Hekkeran and Imina, “Tell the Furt girl that her time is up!”

  “Yeah?”

  At Hekkeran’s near growl, the man practically tripped over his feet exiting the inn.

  Once the troublesome roughneck was gone, Hekkeran’s expression went completely back to normal. The change was so abrupt that if he said he had just been pulling faces for effect, it would have been believable. And in reality, Imina gave him a round of applause.

  “So what was that about?”

  “Not sure. He only asked the same stuff you heard just now.”

  “Ah, man. Then we probably should have gotten some more out of him first.”

  Dang it. He put a palm over his face.

  “Can’t we just ask Arché when she gets back?”

  “…But I don’t really wanna go poking into her business.”

  “Well, I get that, but you’re our leader, so suck it up.”

  “I’ll exercise my authority as leader to have you ask her as a fellow woman.”

  “Gimme a break! I don’t wanna do it, either.”

  They winced at each other.

  Among both adventurers and workers, a few things were commonly understood to be inappropriate.

  First: asking about or investigating one another’s pasts.

  Second: displaying excessive desires too openly.

  Since many people became workers out of ambition, a little greed couldn’t be helped, but when it was blatantly over the top, there was a danger they would stop functioning as team players. For example, how easy would it be to trust someone to fulfill a request with lots of cash on the line or keep an important secret when they talked about how much they wanted money every day? Would it be possible to sleep in the same room with someone who was always saying how badly they desired the other sex? Teammates covered one another’s backs in situations where their lives were in danger. They had to maintain a minimum level of trust.

  Being in some kind of obvious trouble dealt a serious blow to Arché’s dependability. This wasn’t an issue they could simply compromise on.

  They were risking their lives together, so they couldn’t let even a little uncertainty remain.

  Irritated, Hekkeran furiously scratched his head. He didn’t forget to wear a this sucks face. “I guess there’s no helping it. Someone has to ask her.”

  “Thank youuu!”

  He gave Imina a deadpan stare as she smiled and waved. “What? Trying to run away? You’re asking her with me.”

  “Whaaat?” She grimaced but gave up when she saw that Hekkeran’s expression didn’t crack a bit. “Fine. I hope it’s nothing too depressing, though…”

  “Where did she go anyway?”

  “Hmm? Oh, she’s investigating that job.”

  “Aren’t me ’n’ Rober supposed to be doing that?”

  They had returned to the imperial capital and were resting up after finishing a round of undead extermination on the Katze Plain when a new request popped up. The terms weren’t bad, so they were leaning toward accepting.

  The plan was for the best speaker of their bunch, Roberdyck, to look into the background of the requester as well as the nature of the job, whi
le Hekkeran dropped by the imperial government office to pick up the reward for the undead extermination (a state undertaking) and then investigated the same things as Roberdyck via different sources.

  Imina and Arché were supposed to be on standby at the inn.

  “Not just that, though. Stuff like the history of the region and current conditions in the location’s vicinity.”

  Hekkeran nodded that he understood. Arché may have dropped out of the Imperial Magic Academy, but she still had some connections. She would be best at collecting academic knowledge. Maybe she was digging through documents at the Wizards Guild.

  “That’s why she said she’d look into things with Rober. He has a fair amount of knowledge himself, plus shrine connections, you know? So what did you find out, then?”

  “About that…,” said Hekkeran as he sat down. Then he lowered his voice. “I can see why they’re hiring workers. Or at least, based on the location, it’d be impossible to hire adventurers. But—and the requester mentioned this, too—it does seem to be true that they’re talking to other teams as well.”

  “So it’s actually a joint job? The requester must be expecting quite a return considering no one’s ever set foot in these ruins.”

  “Gringham’s team got the request, and he was saying the same thing. Heavy Masher seems to be thinking of going. We have to decide what we’re doing by tomorrow, too.”

  Hekkeran’s team only received the request and had yet to accept. They had until the next day to give their response, but if they were going to go, they had all sorts of preparations to make.

  “And then this trouble comes up right when all this is going on… I wonder if it’s related.”

  “I can’t say for sure other teams aren’t scheming because they think they can make a killing with this job, but we should talk to Arché first. If one of the other teams is giving her grief, we should either leave the job on the table or take it ready for a fight.”

  “We should fight, though, right? If someone tries to start something with us, we should beat on them till all their teeth are chipped away so they never do it again.”

  “That seems excessive…”

  Imina was more cutthroat than she looked, but Hekkeran didn’t think her proposal was a bad idea.