Ch.151The Road to Jerikania (4)

The bear died within 3 seconds of appearing.

The reason was simple.

My wife sliced off the bear’s limbs with her halberd in an instant, then pierced its heart.

One second to cut off the limbs.

And two seconds to locate and pierce the heart, making it exactly three seconds.

“GRAAAARGH!!”

The bear was still raging, but with its heart destroyed, it could only howl in place, helplessly, before falling silent forever within moments of those three seconds, with one final death cry.

And the three porters, who had watched the bear’s demise while lying prone, began to perceive us as something even more terrifying than the bear.

“T-the bear in just two strikes…”

“Hieek…”

The bear that had threatened them.

A remarkably large bear, cleanly dispatched in just two moves—to ordinary porters like them, we adventurers were nothing short of human weapons.

“Do you underlings not even think to offer thanks after receiving your masters’ grace?”

However, that was beside the point. Since I needed to understand the situation, I scolded the commoners sitting dazed on the ground with a deliberately solemn tone.

Only then did the commoners notice the armor I wore and the sword at my side.

Realizing that I, a knight, was displeased, they straightened their posture and began expressing gratitude as if it were inscribed in their genes.

“Th-thanks to you, our lives were saved!”

“We’re truly grateful!”

“Hmm.”

I nodded, arms crossed.

Meanwhile, my wife had come to my side and was rubbing her chest against my arm.

“Why were you being chased by that bear? Judging by your appearance, you don’t seem to be woodcutters.”

“Well… we’re peddlers who travel between villages and cities.”

“Peddlers? Peddlers fleeing from a beast?”

Normally, peddlers aren’t this unprepared.

Most carry incense to repel wild animals or join other merchant groups to ensure minimum safety, but these three apparently hadn’t taken even these basic precautions.

“Y-yes… about that…”

The three exchanged glances.

It was highly suspicious behavior, but my curiosity outweighed my concern, so I didn’t scold them again.

They seemed to be harboring a secret too massive for mere peddlers to conceal.

“Seeing is believing. Perhaps it would be best if you saw this.”

“Hmm?”

One of the peddlers put down his backpack.

And from it, he pulled out something…

“A relic?”

“Yes. A relic from the ancient empire era.”

“Well, well…”

Relics from the ancient empire era were literally worth whatever price you named.

In an era when the ancient empire made plasma monomolecular cutters for ordinary housewives’ kitchen knives, even what was considered trash back then becomes an artifact coveted by the wealthy today.

I took the relic in my hand and passed it to Simon.

I didn’t want to risk handling it carelessly, so I deferred to Simon, who had the most scholarly knowledge among us.

“Can you figure out what this is?”

“Ha… give me a moment.”

With those words, Simon adjusted his grip on his staff and chanted spells in succession.

Soon, a magic circle appeared, followed by a hologram, and the small relic floated in the air, rotating this way and that.

We watched the scene with bated breath while Simon, eyes closed and sweating profusely, interpreted the relic’s identity.

It took a full hour before Simon opened his eyes again. He quietly grasped the relic and handed it to me.

“Phewww…”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes… just a bit tired.”

Simon said this as he opened a subspace and gulped down chilled wine.

Despite his efforts, he collapsed to the ground, and Casia, who was nearby, hurriedly rushed to support him.

“What on earth is that thing to cause this?”

“Ugh… room temperature, atmospheric pressure superconductor…”

As he spoke, all our mouths fell open.

*

“Where on earth did you obtain these things?”

I was genuinely curious.

Naturally, ancient imperial ruins could make every power on the continent turn their heads 180 degrees.

That’s why most ruins are kept strictly confidential, and the ones accessible to ordinary people are either worthless or have already been thoroughly stripped clean.

Yet for mere peddlers to have backpacks full of ancient imperial artifacts… it could literally spark a war.

“There’s a cliff nearby, and about three months ago, there was a major earthquake.”

“Things have settled down now, but the damage was so severe that around 100,000 people died in this area alone, and many places are still being restored. So we’ve been earning money by supplying various materials on our backs as peddlers.”

“Then we thought there might be something useful at the cliff, so we looked around. You know… earthquakes can sometimes expose new open-pit mines or resources when the ground shifts…”

I could roughly guess what happened next from their explanation.

The earthquake created a fissure in the ground, and there was a ruin inside.

“And wouldn’t you know, there was an ancient imperial ruin in the crack of the cliff?”

“So we risked our lives to enter, and this is the result.”

Their explanation matched my assumptions.

I handed the room temperature, atmospheric pressure superconductor back to them.

Even now, major corporations in the heart cities would have to struggle to produce just a few hundred kilograms of such items per year.

“You… is this your first time disposing of artifacts from the ruins?”

“N-no. We’ve been traveling around and selling them bit by bit. This is our second time.”

“Then I’ll write you a letter. Go immediately to the nearest Relief Knight Order branch and request protection. Your lives are in danger now.”

“What?!”

The peddlers exclaimed in confusion at my words.

But this was the truth.

Even now, people from all over would be searching for them.

“If… if you’re concerned about security, it’s fine! We deliberately used masks and aliases, erased our tracks by taking roundabout routes… and only accepted transactions through promissory notes and checks…”

“It doesn’t matter. Ancient ruins are that significant. Moreover, what you’ve brought is a room temperature, atmospheric pressure superconductor… if appraised, it might reveal even more valuable items. Some factions have probably already figured it out.”

“No way!”

As I wrote a letter explaining the situation to the Relief Knight Order, I detailed why they were in danger.

“Even with aliases and masks, your manner of speech, body shape, and gait can eventually be traced. Using promissory notes and checks was wise, but converting such large sums to cash will surely leave records, and records mean they can trace where you withdrew the money. And you said you erased your tracks? Experts can find even the traces of erased traces. You’ll be dead before long.”

“That can’t be…”

“Capitalism is cold, but human hearts burn hot. They’ll pull out your fingernails, toenails, and teeth, burn your hair, flay your skin, gouge out your eyes, tear off your limbs, cut out your tongue, and burn your entire body to extract the location of the ruins. And even if you tell them the location, they won’t spare you. If you’re lucky, you’ll starve to death in captivity; if you’re unlucky, you’ll literally ‘evaporate.'”

The fewer people who know about ruins, the better.

The monopoly of information has always been the supreme strategy throughout history.

As I spoke, I asked the peddlers, who were now in shock and terror:

“How long has it been since you left your last trading place?”

“F-five days or so…”

“Then there’s still some time. Here’s the letter. Go to the nearest Relief Knight Order and request help.”

Of course, the Relief Knight Order will take about half the profits from those ruins.

But isn’t that better than being horribly murdered?

Terrified by my words, the peddlers took my letter and ran off without looking back.

“Impressive deduction. How did you know they were being tracked?”

“Because I’ve tracked people I wanted to kill that way.”

“…What?”

What I had done was easy to remember.

To bury the bastard who had struck my head, I spent days memorizing his gait and speech patterns, comparing erased traces with the surroundings, and persistently investigating bank transaction records.

And eventually, the bastard who hit my head sank to the bottom of the sea with his legs set in concrete.

Since bodies float as they decompose, I kindly punctured his belly to let the gas escape—a thoughtful consideration.

“By the way, what should we do with that bear?”

“…Wait. I’ll take care of it.”

Looking disgusted with me, Simon turned away and pointed his staff at the bear.