Chapter 70
In Batur’s dictionary, the word failure didn’t exist.
During the seven years Uno had worked alongside him, this was the very first time he had ever witnessed Batur fail.
And yet, Batur neither panicked nor despaired. He simply stared coldly at the unfolding situation before him. Inside his cooled mind, the next steps were already being arranged in an orderly fashion. That was what made his subordinates trust him absolutely.
“We’ll head into the forest.”
His calm voice came only after a long silence, and his men doubted their ears.
“Pardon?”
They thought Batur had misspoken. But when they saw the peculiar smile on his lips, they realized it was neither a mistake nor a joke.
Uno let out a frustrated sigh, thinking it would have been easier if the man had just raged about their failure.
“There are monsters in that forest, Captain.”
“You have to be cautious about entering the forest. The monsters are especially on edge this time of year.”
Albert, whose hair was already streaked with gray, added his warning after Uno. Unlike when Uno spoke, Batur actually sighed at Albert’s words.
“That’s why we have to go in.”
His men struggled to make sense of his words but quickly gave up. It was pointless to ask for an explanation now—the only thing they would get in return was their captain’s icy disregard. The only one who could even attempt to question Batur was Albert.
“Cullen’s lair, the Cave of Death, is nearby. We’re going to steal one of its young.”
Albert’s eyes went wide at the unexpected words, staring at Batur in shock. The other men weren’t any calmer; all of them looked at their commander as if he’d lost his mind.
“Younglings? Do you have a plan for that? The mother will go berserk.”
Cullen was a monster so fiercely maternal that, if food was scarce, she would tear the flesh from her own body to feed her offspring. To steal a young one from such a creature was no different from dousing oneself in oil and leaping into a fire.
The hot-tempered Uno shifted nervously, adding his agreement to Albert’s concern. The others nodded vigorously as well, but Batur paid them no mind.
“We’ll put it to sleep.”
He drew a small pouch from his coat as he spoke. Even though the pouch was triple-sealed, just holding it made his hand sting.
The felled trees set aside for the next village’s reconstruction surrounded the settlement.
Those who had been assigned to the logging team, those who had gone to help with repairs in Enol Village, and even the servants from Grace Castle—all were mobilized to work on building a wooden palisade.
It was grueling labor that lasted from dawn until noon, but no one complained. The fear that monsters might cross over now that the protective ridge had burned down, and the sense of duty to defend the village they had just managed to rebuild, kept everyone working silently.
Though the day was cold, sweat dripped from the workers’ brows.
Clang, clang, clang!
“Meal time!”
A child ran around the construction site, striking an old bell with each step. The adults, drenched in sweat, couldn’t help but follow the sound with their eyes.
The little boy, earning only a meager wage for his effort, looked positively delighted. His bright grin, so out of step with the looming danger, softened the hardened expressions of the adults—even if only for a moment.
But just as quickly, all eyes turned back toward the Black Forest. The once-black woods looked even darker now that the ridge of protective grasses had been reduced to ash.
Thankfully, nothing unusual had yet been spotted within. Beyond the palisade-in-progress, armored knights kept a constant watch. Their presence allowed the workers to focus on their task.
Reliable mercenaries had also been hired to assist in standing guard. Though they were only in it for the money, they knew full well that if monsters attacked, they too would be fighting for their lives, so they stayed alert.
“Teams 1 and 2, eat first!”
Builders, farmers, and Helser moved among the workers, calling them over. Those who had been absentmindedly toiling laid down their tools and headed off. The boy’s cheerful bell rang in the background.
Everyone lined up in front of a makeshift dining tent.
“Today’s meal has been specially prepared by the lord.”
At the words special meal, the crowd’s murmur grew louder. Their faces, which had been weighed down with fear of an impending monster attack, brightened with sudden anticipation.
“A special meal!”
“I smell something delicious!”
“That… is that meat?”
Noses twitched, eyes went wide.
“It really is! Meat!”
Those who hadn’t yet reached their turn paused in their work, gazing longingly toward the dining tent. The heavy dread that had been crushing their hearts seemed to melt away with the scent of roasting meat.
A few hours earlier.
“All of this meat?”
Donghui had originally planned to feed only the castle servants, but instead released the entire stock to the workers on the construction site. He would have to return to the castle to fetch the meat he had set aside when he carried out the fire extinguishers, but that was a small price to pay.
“It’s probably not enough. For now, make stew with this. And since it won’t be sufficient, prepare plenty of bread and some stewed dural as well. Ah, and cook ramen too. Make sure everyone can eat their fill.”
He had brought out all the meat he’d brought from the market.
“It’s real meat stew! And so much meat in it!”
“When was the last time I had meat?”
“This is delicious!”
The sight of chunky meat floating in the stew brought cheers as loud as the ones when the fires had been extinguished. Many swallowed hard before even tasting it. Some were so eager that they didn’t bother sitting, but drank straight from the bowl.
“The lord has ordered us to serve generously, so eat as much as you like. You’ve worked hard today.”
Scrooge walked among them, offering encouragement. Handsome kept order so the lines wouldn’t dissolve into chaos.
Henry, elated at first when he received his hot stew, suddenly felt his expression darken.
“I wish my little brother could have some too.”
He remembered the gaunt face of his younger sibling, cheeks sunken. On the day Henry had left home to earn money, his brother hadn’t cried—he had simply waved bravely, though his large eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
Henry had left him in the care of a kind neighbor lady, but that family had little enough themselves. His brother was surely clutching his empty stomach each night before sleep.
Ned, noticing Henry staring silently at his untouched stew, clapped his shoulder. He too hadn’t eaten yet, thinking of the mother he’d left behind, so he understood all too well.
“I wish our families could live here too.”
“Yeah… If I could bring my little brother, and you your mother, wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
Scrooge spotted the two boys holding their bowls but not eating.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
Startled, Henry and Ned hastily wiped their tears and shook their heads.
“No, sir. We’ll eat, thank you.”
Afraid he might scold them for being ungrateful, they forced smiles. But Scrooge, with years of experience and sharp instincts, quickly saw through them.
“You’re worried about your families?”
It was only a short question. But Henry’s tears spilled instantly.
He clamped his mouth shut, refusing to sob aloud, but the tears dropped onto his worn shoes. Scrooge looked at them silently for a moment before turning and walking away.
Donghui returned from collecting the empty extinguishers, his body as heavy as soaked cotton.
Because he had used Taechang as his assistant earlier, he now had no hidden points left, and had been forced to empty all 800 extinguishers by himself. He had assumed the labor would only cost him maybe 10 to 30 points at most—but his point balance had hit zero. Furious, he’d cursed at the blatant robbery, but the status window was shameless.
—In urgent, time-sensitive situations, the value of labor naturally skyrockets. Honestly, why so naive?
It was outright daylight robbery. Gritting his teeth, Donghui vowed that next time, he’d always check the fee before hiring an assistant.
“One bastard makes the plans, the other does all the grunt work… what a perfect pair.”
He grumbled loudly, but the status window only flashed [Adjusting screen]. Donghui finally understood why TV drama chaebols were always clutching their necks and collapsing from stress.
The first hundred extinguishers weren’t too bad. But by the time he passed two hundred, then approached three hundred, his arms felt like they were going numb.
“Ugh, my arms are killing me. When will I finish all this?”
He was grateful the extinguishers had put out the fire, but dealing with them afterward alone was brutal. He sighed, staring at his inventory, now crammed with empty canisters.
On a whim, he poked the inventory screen and spun it around—wondering if, like a bag turned upside down, the items inside could all be dumped out at once.
He hadn’t expected much, but the moment he flipped it, a prompt popped up.
—Would you like to empty all at once?
“What! Yes, absolutely! Bulk discard is amazing!”
—Once emptied, the items cannot be retrieved…
“Discard!”
—Proceeding with bulk discard. Rattle, rattle, rattle!
The inverted inventory shuddered, and then all the red extinguishers drained downward in one sweeping motion. Donghui tensed, worried they’d crash to the floor and smash his toes, but nothing fell.
They had simply been deleted.
“There was such a convenient feature all along, and you never told me?!”
He had pulled out nearly three hundred extinguishers one by one, and now felt utterly wronged.
—Well, you never asked.
“You saw me dragging them out, one at a time.”
—That’s true.
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
—Because you didn’t ask.
“I ought to kill you…”
