LATEST UPDATES

The Alchemist's Tale - Chapter 25

Published at 6th of January 2019 06:40:43 AM


Chapter 25

If audio player doesn't work, press Stop then Play button again






As expected, most of the books here were written in the Demon language. I could read it, but except for the words that meant name, birth date, hometown, and anything else I could figure out from my citizenship card, I couldn't understand anything written in those books as usual. It would have been embarrassing if I asked that librarian to translate what I was reading, so I just pretended to be able to understand the texts and flipped through as many book pages as possible in a believable manner. A lot of the books had illustrations, so it wasn't entirely boring, at least.

After half an hour of doing pointless things, I decided it would now be appropriate to leave the library. I told the librarian that I would come back at a later time to borrow some of the books here since I didn't have a library card currently. Her eyes sparkled, and she squealed a bit as soon as she heard me say "I'll come back" - I'm starting to get the feeling this town's library was so neglected by its residents that the librarian was just lonely and bored to death inside…

The librarian kept looking at me as I walked outside. I found it slightly creepy that she was now standing by the entrance keeping an eye on me, so I decided to make a turn as soon as possible into the alley right next to the building, since it seemed unlikely that she would take her eyes off of me until I disappeared from her sight. The library had windows only along the front wall, so she wouldn't be able to keep track of me if I kept going down this alley that ran along the side of the building.

I wanted to turn back after seeing how the alley got darker and darker as I walked deeper in, but I had a feeling that the librarian would still be at the entrance if I chose to go back. I guess I'll just try to see where this alleyway leads to.

At the end of the 40 meter long library wall was what looked like the entrance to a labyrinth. The alleyway branched everywhere, and all I could see around were brick walls. It was hard not to notice that all the buildings that made up this labyrinth had no windows on their side and back walls, so someone lost in this urban labyrinth would most likely never be noticed by the residents. I wonder if this was an intentional design or not.

I took a random turn with the hope that it would lead me towards a major street where the library couldn't be seen. After a few minutes of walking, a shadow loomed around the corner ahead of me.

"Grr…"

From that corner was a large stray dog that stood as tall as about a third of my height. Its eyes seemed somewhat murky, and it was drooling uncontrollably. The dog, having noticed me, locked its eyes on me and made a pose that looked like it was about to charge at me.

Normally I would have no qualms with striking down a rabid dog, but I was currently in the middle of a narrow alleyway that made it impossible for me to swing my staff without having hit a wall. Besides, after all the (accidental) destruction of public property I caused in the path, I already swore an oath to never cast magic within 2 meters of any buildings, landmarks, or innocent bystanders, so I didn't really want to unleash a spell here. Speaking of which, that fight I had against Casath and Hanung when I first came to this territory was in the middle of a ten-meter wide street, and the crowd that gathered to spectate were definitely more than 2 meters away from me.

Well, there was only one thing I could think of doing here.

I took a deep breath and took a fighting stance.

I raised one leg up, as though I was about to make a high kick pose.

Using my other leg as a pivot, I did a quick half turn and ran for my life.

The fighting stance was close enough to a running pose, and my raised leg was stretched as far as it could stretch, so it only took me a split second to dart away at full speed.

* * * * *

After about five minutes of running for my life, I finally lost sight of the rabid dog. The only problem I had now was that I was in an unfamiliar part of town, and I had no idea how to get back since I did not pay attention to where I was running towards. Judging by how I was standing on a raised floor, and how there was unpleasant smelling water flowing next to me in this dark place that lacked buildings, there was little doubt that I had managed to wander off to the town's sewers.

Since I had no idea how to get out, and also since I did not see any buildings through the grates on the ceiling, I figured I was somewhere in the outskirts of town and aimlessly wandered around with the hope that I would either make it back to the town center eventually or spot one of the mills.

Much like the urban labyrinth I went through earlier, the sewer path branched out frequently, though the branches often led to dead ends. The lack of buildings at the surface really made me question why such branches even existed in the first place.

At one dead end in particular, I noticed an unnatural pile of wood blocks on the ground. The grates were too small for wood blocks to fall through, and the sewage was flowing out of this dead end, making it seem impossible for this wood to have drifted here. To sate my curiosity, I moved the pile of wood away and found what looked like a trapdoor on the floor.

Normally it would be best to ignore such a thing, or at least let someone responsible know that a secret path existed here in the sewers and request an exploration party to see what was inside, but for some reason I felt a dumb inclination to go in without telling anyone. The trapdoor led to a steep and narrow staircase, at the bottom of which was a pitch black cave.

Lighting my way with a small flame at the tip of my staff, it was hard to see more than a meter in front of me, as the cavern path had countless splits and turns. I decided to explore the cave for about a minute with the intention of going back before I wandered too far, but there were so many splits and turns that I ended up getting disoriented. I had only walked for one minute, but before I knew it, I had already lost track of how to get back to that narrow staircase from earlier…

What was supposed to be a one minute exploration ended up being five minutes, and then ten. I had no idea where I was and how far I had gone at this point, and I did not even know whether or not I was walking around in circles because of all the twists and turns in the cave. Confused, slightly panicking, and disoriented, I eventually lost my footing and slipped down a hole in the cavern wall.

All I could remember was losing my consciousness after tumbling down a pit in that hole for some time.

It's understandable that as a mage, my strength was significantly below average, but why do I keep fainting so easily?

* * * * *

"You sure got roughed up."

When I came to, I found myself on a floor of a small dimly lit room, with an old minotaur sitting by the wall beside me. There were bruises and cuts all over my body, and my clothes were ripped in several places from rolling down that rocky pit earlier. From the direction of the light, there were thin metal bars blocking this room's exit.

"Where am I?"

"Underground prison."

"Underground… prison?"

"Aye. Can't tell what town we're under, though. I've been moved around places for years now."

"Probably near Ladita town. I was there earlier."

"Hm? You were up on the surface earlier today?"

"Yes, but I got lost…"

…while being chased by a rabid dog, which was how I ended up here.

"Yeah, it's hard to find your way in an unfamiliar town. You're lucky they didn't kill you for breaking out of prison."

That was what I wanted to say, but the old minotaur seems to have thought that I was a convict on the run, and I didn't feel like correcting him.

"Why is there a prison here?"

"Why not? It's too easy to escape if it was above ground."

"No, I meant to ask what the purpose of this prison is."

"Did they hit you so hard that you got amnesia?"

"I don't have amnesia. And I was asking since people usually just execute, exile, or enslave prisoners where I came from."

They didn't have correctional facilities in Kitrod, and the practice of making prisoners fight to the death in a coliseum had long been abolished, so prisoners would only be kept if they had some political value. Otherwise, they'd just be disposed of by some means since keeping watch and feeding them costed money. That was why I wanted to know why a prison existed here in the first place, since I was of no political value.

"There's a labor shortage here."

"Labor shortage?"

"That's right. They need laborers here."

"What?"

"Just get some rest. You'll know what I mean in a while."

The minotaur didn't answer any of my questions afterwards, so I just lied on the floor quietly, thinking about what just happened to me.

It was likely that whoever found me unconscious mistook me for a fugitive or prisoner of war and had me sent here after confiscating my staff. The rest of my belongings were still in my pockets, seemingly untouched, so I reckon none of the prison staff ever bothered trying to figure out who I was. Currently, I was in a small prison cell, and there were no prison guards standing outside. The old minotaur in this cell hinted towards us being forced laborers later, so it would most likely be possible for me to talk to a prison guard later, since they'd need to keep watch of us somehow.

Oh well, making a scene here now wouldn't be good for me, so I'll just clear things up when a guard shows up later.

A few minutes passed by, and the sound of metal doors opening echoed through the prison.

"Get up! Stop lazing around!"

"On your feet, now!"

The sounds of yelling prison guards blared through every cell.

The minotaur and I got up and stood in front of our cell door shortly before a guard came to unlock it. He was a winged minor demon with an ominous looking face, somewhat resembling a gargoyle and was clad in a jet black uniform. I quickly stepped out and called to the guard, who was already at the next cell's door.

"Excuse me-"

"WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO TALK?"

He seemed to be angry when I broke the silence and immediately snapped.

"But I-"

"SHUT UP!"

As soon as the guard yelled at me, I could feel a burning sensation on my back. Taking a quick glance behind me, I saw another guard with a long whip in hand. Out of fear that I'd unnecessarily panic and get lashed again, I tried my best to stay quiet and endure the pain. My back was probably bleeding a bit, but there was nothing I could do currently, since speaking up wasn't allowed.

It was impossible to clear things up right now, so I decided to go with the flow and wait until an opportunity to speak up comes.

We had a long silent march across the prison's halls and through more almost pitch black tunnels until finally stopping at a section with some lighting. The tunnel segment was about 15 meters wide with a somewhat flat ceiling almost 10 meters high, with large support columns running along the walls. This was a rock tunnel, but there were several patches of rock with a dark gray color and metallic sheen. There was the lingering smell of iron present in the air, so this was most likely either an iron ore mine or an execution site. The old minotaur mentioned a labor shortage earlier, so I would assume this was the former. It was still hard to tell, however, since everyone was eerily quiet, and some bones were wedged behind some support columns.

One prison guard pointed pointed at a pile of pickaxes, chisels, and hammers at the end of this tunnel segment while the remaining guards, all of whom were also minor demons clad in jet black uniforms, formed a wall at the end of the prisoner line. They were all holding whips, shields, swords, and sabers to prevent our escape.

"Get to work! Strong ones bore the tunnel, weak ones mine the ore!"

The prisoners all walked towards the pile of tools and grabbed what was appropriate for their tasks. I felt somewhat relieved, knowing that this was not an execution site.

"Excuse me, I-"

"You want to get whipped again? Shut up and get to work!"

…I'm starting to worry that I'll never be able to talk to the guards. Well, it's probably best if I just work for a while and wait for another chance to talk. If they still wouldn't let me speak up, then I'll just cause enough trouble for them to take me somewhere private so I can speak.

After taking a pickaxe, I went to a wall section nobody was working on.

* * * * *

I started losing track of how much time passed by, but everyone here was forced to work without any breaks. The guards would often shout at and lash someone with their whips as soon as that person stopped working for a moment.

While it sounded like harsh forced labor, I noticed that the prisoners working near me were working extremely slowly. It seemed as if the guards only required prisoners to work, but did not care about how fast they were working, so I followed suit and mined as slowly as possible to conserve energy. Well, now I know why there was so much ore that had yet to be mined in this tunnel now.

The prisoners were not allowed to talk to the guards, but they seemed to allow people to talk among themselves as long as it was not louder than the chiseling and hammering sounds echoing through the tunnel. As a result, I was able to mumble the spell chant for a weak strength boosting buff and cast that on myself.

It was possible to use magic without a weapon if the target is oneself, since the mana is not shot out anywhere - it only gets converted to another form of energy within the body. I suppose I could also use a few basic spells by channeling mana into the pickaxe I was holding and cause a scene here, like what I did with the spears and laundry pole during the fight against the dragon, but doing that might actually get me arrested for a legitimate reason. Regardless, using a self buff on myself was probably a stupid thing to do when working for an extended period of time, but I figured a minor buff would not tire me out too much, since I was intentionally working so slowly and inefficiently that it was nearly impossible to strain my muscles.

The work was not taxing on my body, but I started feeling a little tired from having to constantly cast the minor strength boosting spell on myself. It felt like being dehydrated: it wouldn't kill me immediately, but I couldn't stop feeling the urge to take a short break just to recover my mana.

Luckily, one of the guards blew a loud whistle at the moment I was ready to give up.

"Food break! You have 15 minutes!"

I thought I would notice someone bringing food over because it was relatively quiet in this tunnel, but there were trays full of bowls lying on the ground where the guards formed a wall earlier, while the guards themselves were gone. The one guard who blew the whistle slipped into the darkness of the tunnel, probably to have a meal with the others.

It would probably be weird if I didn't at least touch the food, so I grabbed a bowl after all the prisoners each got one. Inside was some dark colored mush with small solid chunks floating on top, as well as a metal spoon. Its crude shape made it seem like it was created as a makeshift utensil using the iron ore mined from here.

I put a small bit of the mush in my mouth, and was surprised by how it tasted a lot better than it looked. The mush had a very wheat-like flavor, and had a hint of saltiness and faint iron smell. More likely than not, this was gruel made using the fresh wheat from the fields above ground, and the water was from somewhere in this underground mine, resulting in some iron and minerals getting mixed in.

"You're more durable than I thought."

The old minotaur walked over to me with his bowl in hand, and his body was full of sweat from having to bore deeper into the mine tunnel.

"I cast a buff on myself earlier."

"Sounds convenient. Wish I could use magic myself."

"I almost collapsed from running low on mana, though."

"Still remarkable that you could keep using magic for hours."

I suppose that was true. I felt a bit glad about having an enormous mana pool for once.

"Do they make you work like this every day?"

"As long as the war keeps going on, they'll keep making us mine for more ore to make the army's weapons and armors."

Using forced laborers as miners cuts production costs quite a bit, I suppose. Still, the guards didn't seem to care at all about work productivity, so there must either be countless other mines that used prisoners like this one, or most of the material gathering was done by actual miners elsewhere.

Hearing the old minotaur talk about the war made me think about that knight who kept messing with me that I set free this morning, so I decided to change the topic.

"This gruel tastes a lot better than it looks. I wouldn't mind having this every now and then."

I put another spoonful of the gruel into my mouth.

"Yeah, the wheat and meat are both fresh. This is probably Cubig's meat obtained yesterday."

"Cubig? What's that?"

"My cellmate. Died yesterday."

…And then spat it out.

How could I have been so ignorant? There were bones wedged behind the support columns, so the flesh and blood had to have gone somewhere. It would have been too much of a hassle to bring dead prisoners back to the surface, so the guards had probably cut them up for meat and use their blood as soup stock. The thought that the saltiness and iron smell I tasted in the mush probably came from blood than underground water made me feel nauseous.

"I think my stomach just cramped out from all that work. I'll eat this later…"

"Better hurry, they'll make us work again in 10 minutes."

I made up a random excuse just to set the bowl of horrifying things aside.




Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!


COMMENTS