Shadowed Gaze: The Highserk War Saga - Chapter 111

The weapon merchant, who had been diligently repairing newly acquired goods, put down his tools on the desk and sank deeply into an armchair to soothe his exhausted spirit.

“It’s rare to see you this tired. Did something happen? Did that customer do something?”

“No, nothing like that. The materials are all of good quality. It was a decent transaction.”

“Even so, you seem quite fatigued… But that mercenary, he even had a magic bag. Maybe he stole it from some noble. Oh, owner, you didn’t treat it as stolen goods and rip him off, did you?”

The employee clapped his hands in a joking manner, suggesting that dealing with a blood-soaked mercenary might have been exhausting. The merchant pressed his temples and denied the employee’s words.

“Your customer service isn’t bad. You pay close attention to the customers. That’s why I hired you, but your loose tongue is a bad habit. It could bring disaster someday.”

“Heh, sorry, I’ll be more careful.”

Normally, the sword merchant would have given a thorough lecture, but the information conveyed by the items in front of him weighed heavily on his mind and tongue. Many of the items bore traces of being engulfed in fierce flames. In the case of the swords, there were faint remnants of burned gloves and charred oil from the skin. The remaining weapons were adequately maintained, but they couldn’t deceive the experienced eyes of a merchant who had dealt with weapons for many years. When he wiped the leather grips and hilts with a cloth soaked in a chemical, they still bore traces of burned blood and fat.

If these were collected from the remains of a battlefield, the sword merchant’s mind might be at ease. But if, as he suspected, the mercenary had done this, then the quantity alone, selected for their quality, indicated how many people he might have burned to death.

The sword merchant had run his shop for a quarter of a century, dealing with blood-soaked post-war weapons and relics. His pride wouldn’t allow him to fear a mere mercenary. Even so, his accumulated experience made him sense the mercenary’s abnormality.

“Did they buy anything?”

He couldn’t dwell on it forever. The sword merchant asked his employee to switch his focus.

“They bought thin leather gloves. But to dive into the labyrinth with orc bones, those young adventurers are either fearless or truly daring.”

The employee’s voice was a mix of amazement and envy. It was understandable; anyone living in this city would seriously consider challenging the labyrinth at least once.

“Many die from overexertion. But among them, some emerge who can afford to buy custom-made armor that even outside soldiers envy. That black bone weapon is a form of investment. There are few who buy items again from the first shop where they purchased their initial weapon.”

The sword merchant sold the bone weapons coated with dark slime at nearly no profit for this reason. They could become not only valuable customers but also excellent suppliers.

“You mean… even the ‘Three Magic Attack’?”

“Yes, unbelievably, he bought one bone weapon and dove into the labyrinth. He’s exceptional. At his age, he’s already on the verge of becoming a labyrinth conqueror. I hope he succeeds.”

A labyrinth conqueror held special significance not just for the sword merchant but for all the residents of Bergana. They were symbols of martial prowess and wealth, and their fame was unchallenged even among the three major nations. It was a bitter truth that no conqueror had emerged from the labyrinth city in decades. The recent conquerors were from the capital of the Archipelago Countries, a clumsy giant claiming divine blood from the Meiris Republic, an elf from the Aleynard Forest Alliance, and an adventurer directly under the guild. Marquis Borgia was pouring his efforts into producing a new conqueror from the labyrinth city’s citizens.

“They’re a different breed from us. But being the preferred supplier of a conqueror… it has a nice ring to it.”

“Hmph, well, yes. It doesn’t sound bad. By the way, moderate your visits to the brothel. The perfume stinks.”

The sweet scent was overwhelming. As a sword merchant who handled goods, it was an undesirable smell.

“Heh, sorry, I’ll try.”

◆

The closer one got to the center of the labyrinth city, the higher the quality of the building materials used. Occasionally, there were houses with a different style that showed their age, but they were well-maintained, and their exterior walls were freshly painted. The streets were lined with all kinds of shops, from weapon stores, restaurants, and inns to blacksmiths and public baths.

“What a strange city.”

The people coming and going varied widely in their occupations, and even among adventurers, some had equipment rivaling knights and generals, while others were armed with household items and farm tools. The adventurers Walm had encountered until now looked nothing like this.

“Equipment isn’t everything…”

The adventurers who had thrown themselves into the war between nations out of patriotism and love for their homeland, and who tried to protect their people even at the cost of their pride and lives after the defeat, remained vividly in Walm’s mind. Although their paths had diverged at first, and they had indulged in killing each other, their way of life had been admirable and worthy of respect, even if reluctantly.

But what of the adventurers passing by here? While the appearance of novice adventurers was understandable—they had likely poured all their money into challenging the labyrinth—most of the more seasoned adventurers wore eye-catching, colorful equipment in red, yellow, or blue that hurt Walm’s eyes. It might be practical, but did such flashy and decorative gear really suit the labyrinth? Some even wore perfume.

“Sometimes, appearance and pride are important. Winning through bluffing is possible too.”

Their flamboyant attire might be part of that. In reality, they had achieved a certain level of success, hence their presence here. If so, Walm might seem like a dull, uninteresting person compared to them.

“Well, in any case, it’s not my style.”

Walm, abandoning his thoughts as if escaping reality, followed the adventurers’ backs. People who made a living from fighting gathered from all over the city. Despite their appearances, it was a familiar sight from his military life. And beyond the crowd was the place Walm was aiming for.

“It’s huge.”

Unlike the tightly packed buildings, there was a spacious area where thousands of soldiers could line up. In the center of this open space, stone-paved paths stretched out, flanked by beautifully carved stone pillars. At the end stood a massive building. Dominated by white, it retained its beauty while its sheer size gave it a heavy and imposing presence that overwhelmed visitors.

The scale made Walm suspect it might be the residence of Marquis Borgia. People of all attire, gender, and age advanced confidently, mocking Walm’s hesitation. The final confirmation was the stone plaque beside the open gate. It read “The Great Labyrinth of Bergana” and “Adventurer’s Guild Bergana Branch.” There could be no mistake now.

“Well, whatever happens, happens.”

With that, Walm stepped forward.

Translator – Lyxxna