Chapter 162

Chapter 162: Where Do You Think You're Running?

Dungeon.

A place teeming with deadly traps and vicious monsters that would send you straight to the afterlife if you let your guard down even for a second.

Despite the dangers, dungeons were always crawling with adventurers.

The reason, of course, was the treasure that naturally came with conquering them.

The fact that stronger and more dangerous monsters existed meant…

There was something valuable in that dungeon worth protecting.

That’s why it was only natural for Beryl and Mikkelsen to be filled with anticipation in this room.

Because conquering this dungeon had been a real nightmare.

They believed it only made sense for piles of gold and treasures to be overflowing here.

But… but…

“What is this?”

“…Huh?”

Disappointed voices filled with disbelief escaped the two.

The final room of the dungeon.

The place they expected to be overflowing with gold and jewels… was completely empty.

All that was there was…

A single statue of a female pirate, and murals etched all over the walls.

“Y-Young Master, where did all the treasure go?”

“Where’s all our loot?”

As Beryl and Mikkelsen asked in a fluster, Hardin furrowed his brow and shot back.

“Treasure? What nonsense are you spouting?”

“We cleared the dungeon, didn’t we?! So why is there no treasure?!”

“What are you talking about? When did I ever say we were here to find treasure? I said we were here to find bait.”

“Whaaaat?!”

In that instant, Mikkelsen’s eyes flipped, and he lunged to grab Hardin by the collar.

“You mean to tell me we went through all that hell for nothing?!”

Of course—

SMAAAACK!

“Aaaargh!”

—he was promptly subdued by a single punch from Hardin.

“This bastard always grabs my collar like that. You want to get hit, don’t you?”

“Urgh… then why the hell did we even do this?!”

“I told you. I came here because I needed bait.”

“And what the hell does that even mean?!”

As Mikkelsen protested, Hardin shook his head and walked over to the statue.

A striking beauty with bold features—long hair flowing down to her waist, a pirate hat on her head, and an eyepatch over one eye.

‘Been a while, huh.’

With a slight smirk curling his lips, Hardin stared intently at the necklace hanging around the statue’s neck.

A skull-shaped pendant, seemingly carved from quartz… opaque and dull in color.

The craftsmanship was fairly detailed, and upon closer inspection, there seemed to be a faint blue glow to it, but even so, it didn’t look valuable at a glance.

Hardin removed the necklace from the statue and handed it to Mikkelsen.

“Take good care of it. This is what we came for.”

“…We went through all that just for this? You could probably find something like this at any antique shop.”

“Tsk, I told you—it serves a purpose.”

“And where exactly?”

“Well, the sea—”

Hardin trailed off just as he was about to say something, prompting Beryl to tilt his head and ask,

“The sea?”

“No, you guys don’t need to know just yet.”

But Hardin didn’t answer and ended the conversation there.

Tell them now what he was planning to do with that item?

— Are you out of your mind?!

— Kill me now! I’m never going there, so just gut me here and now!

It was clear as day what kind of reaction he’d get.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Hardin pointed to the quartz necklace in Mikkelsen’s hand.

“Anyway, that thing’s important. Keep it safe.”

“…Siiigh. Got it.”

Mikkelsen sighed deeply and shoved the necklace roughly into his pocket.

Meanwhile, Hardin crossed his arms and walked over to the left side of the room.

As he lifted his head, he saw inscriptions alongside murals.

And the main subject of the murals, of course… was someone Hardin—no, Varlach—personally knew.

[Behold, the birth of me, the Pirate Empress Redhoof! Are you watching, sea?!]

It began with a depiction of a newborn child emerging from sea foam, as if she were some kind of sea deity…

[On my very first voyage, I took down a Kraken!]

A drawing and a line claiming she had taken down a Kraken single-handedly—a boast that almost certainly had to be an exaggeration.

And then…

[Argh! I thrashed those rude pirate bastards and united them under my rule!]

It went on to show how she led her pirate fleet to victory in a civil war, unifying the Calav Archipelago under her command.

The entire life of the Pirate Empress Redhoof was etched into these walls in both images and words.

Honestly, it all felt… loud, childish, and over-the-top—just like her. Fitting for her tomb.

At that moment, as they were gazing at the mural, Beryl and Mikkelsen each chimed in.

“Young Master, just what kind of person was this lady?”

“Pirate Empress, huh… I mean, she’s obviously a pirate, but was she that famous? Her tomb’s pretty huge, after all…”

Hardin scoffed lightly and replied.

“She was crazy famous outside the Empire.”

“And how do you know someone like that, Young Master?”

“It’s just… stuff happened, that’s all.”

Hardin waved off Beryl’s question and continued scanning the mural.

Step.

He stopped at one particular section.

[Some hotshot punks from the Empire came knocking, looking for a fight! Of course, I crushed them!]

In front of the Pirate Empress holding her cutlass stood five figures.

And among them, the one drawn the largest in front—

Mikkelsen pointed at him and said,

“Oh, that guy’s hair color looks just like the Lord’s.”

“…”

Hardin stared blankly at the man in the mural.

A man with long blue hair, lips curled into a smirk.

He remembered exactly who that man was.

— Come on, lady! Just talk to me, will you? Just for a sec!

— Ajumma? Ajuuummaaa?! Is this bastard out of his mind?!

The Pirate Empress, who had insisted that docking at the Calav Archipelago required settling things with swords according to pirate code…

The moment he called her “ajumma,” her eyes had turned white with rage and she started swinging her sword without hesitation.

Just remembering how she had flown off the handle was enough to give him chills even now.

As he walked further, more murals followed.

She had repelled monsters that had invaded the Calav Archipelago, and afterward, she embarked on a thrilling sea adventure for her final journey… or so the fairy tale-like narrative went.

‘She really lived loud and left even louder.’

Should he feel happy to see this?

Hardin exhaled through his nose and smiled faintly.

“That’s enough. Let’s head out.”

“…Yes, sir.”

As the three finished viewing and turned to leave the room, Beryl scratched his cheek and asked,

“Um, Young Master. That guy’s missing. Where did he go?”

“What guy?”

“The halfling, sir. He was definitely right behind us a moment ago.”

“Hm?”

Glancing around, they finally noticed—the halfling was nowhere to be seen.

Hardin furrowed his brows and asked,

“Mikkelsen. That thing I told you to keep safe—is it still on you?”

“Of course it is. Where else would it… wait, what?”

Tap tap! Rustle rustle!

As Mikkelsen patted and rummaged through his pockets, his expression gradually turned from confident to panicked.

“Keep checking. Where’d it go?”

“I swear it was in here… this is so weird.”

No matter how much he searched, the necklace wouldn’t turn up.

A long sigh escaped Hardin’s lips.

Because the answer to what just happened was painfully obvious.

“Haa… I’m going ahead. You two follow me out slowly.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

Tug!

Beryl grabbed Hardin’s shoulder as he was about to leave, prompting him to glance sideways and reply,

“Where do you think? I’m going to beat the crap out of that little thief.”

White breath puffed out from Hardin’s mouth as his face twisted into a demonic scowl.

Beryl instinctively let go of his hand.

“Ah… r-right, good luck, sir.”

Tap tap tap!

Hardin bolted out of the room.

“Hey, Beryl… doesn’t this whole vibe feel, like… kinda bad?”

“Y-yeah.”

Something big was definitely about to go down…

Worry flooded Beryl and Mikkelsen’s faces.

---

A long passageway leading out of the dungeon.

Whoosh! Whizz!

Jerry leapt into the air, narrowly dodging the arrows flying at him from the side.

BWOOOOOM!

He slid under a massive rolling log coming at him head-on, then sprang up and dashed forward again.

“I did it!”

Jerry looked at the skull necklace in his hand, his face lit with triumph.

‘With this… I’ll finally be recognized!’

He had gone through hell and back just to find this tomb.

And the sacrifices, the despair they’d endured to conquer it…

It was a raid they had half given up on, believing it impossible…

And yet, thanks to the sudden appearance of those thugs, not only had they succeeded in clearing it, but he’d even gotten his hands on the Mark.

‘The God of Thieves has finally chosen me.’

It had to be divine favor—there was no other explanation.

Jerry, who had spent his entire life drowning in misfortune, was determined not to let this chance slip away.

Squeeze!

He gripped the skull necklace tightly in his hand.

‘Now I just have to escape this godforsaken place.’

Jerry came to a stop, then turned and pushed himself into a small crevice—just big enough for him to squeeze through.

It was a shortcut he’d discovered from his long stay in the dungeon.

This way, no matter how strong or fast that blond bastard was, catching up to him would be impossible.

…At least, it should have been.

Just as Jerry emerged from the shortcut and got back to his feet—

BOOM! BOOM!

The dungeon trembled slightly, and a deep rumble echoed from far away.

“…What the hell?”

Just his imagination, right?

Jerry tilted his head, about to take off running again when—

KRRAAAAAAANG!

His mouth and eyes flew open in disbelief.

Because right in front of him…

“You thieving little bastard!”

Hardin came crashing through the dungeon wall, his face blazing red as he charged forward.

“…Wha?”

Did that guy just… punch through the dungeon wall to get here?

Is that even possible?!

Even as confusion clouded his mind, Jerry instinctively turned to flee—

“Where do you think you’re going?!”

SNATCH!

“Eeeeeek!”

Hardin’s arm stretched out like rubber and caught Jerry by the scruff of his neck.

SMASH!

“Gahhhhk!”

He slammed Jerry into the ground.

Jerry, eyes wide with panic, immediately put on a pitiful expression and pleaded,

“W-wait, sir! I wasn’t trying to run, I swear!”

Of course…

“Yeah, yeah. Take your time explaining. But before all that…”

To the furious Hardin Daphne, that kind of excuse was absolute garbage.

“…let’s start with a beating.”

“AAAAAAAGH!”

And thus, in the dungeon—no, in Redhoof’s tomb—a hapless halfling’s shriek rang out.

---

A few days later, on a misty morning.

SWOOSH! SWOOOSH!

A small fishing boat sped across the sea with its sail fully unfurled.

At the front, Beryl and Mikkelsen were rowing with all their might.

“Hey! Keep your hands straight.”

Smack!

“Aaaargh!”

At the rear, Hardin leaned against the railing, tapping the top of Jerry’s head—tied up tightly with rope—with a wooden club.

“I’m sorry… I’ll never do it again, sir.”

Judging by the multiple lumps on his head and the tears streaming down his face, it looked like Jerry had been on the receiving end of some truly brutal revenge.

“Then maybe don’t do things you’ll end up apologizing for.”

Seriously, these halflings… You turn your back for one second, and they always cause trouble.

Hardin shot Jerry a fierce glare and shook his head in disbelief.

Just then, Mikkelsen glanced over, gauging the mood, and cautiously asked,

“Um, Young Master?”

“What.”

“Where exactly are we going now?”

They had cleared the dungeon, so naturally, he assumed they’d head home. But the boat had been sailing in the opposite direction this whole time, and curiosity was beginning to gnaw at him.

Hardin simply shrugged.

“Where else? We’ve got the bait—now it’s time to catch the fish.”

“And what is this fish, exactly? Stop being vague and just tell us straight. Right, Beryl?”

“Ahem.”

Beryl cleared his throat, a subtle sign of agreement, as he shot a glance toward Hardin.

“Geez, you guys are so damn impatient. Don’t you think I’ll tell you when it’s time?”

…The thing is, every time he decided to "tell them when it’s time," their lives ended up brushing against death at least ten times. That’s why they were worried, this maniac.

The two kept rowing, swallowing back the words they didn’t dare say out loud.

Then Jerry spoke up, cautiously.

“S-sir…”

“What now.”

“...What’s going to happen to me now?”

“Dunno. You’re a thief, so prison’s an option… Or if that doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll sell you to a slave trader. Bet you’d fetch a decent price.”

“A s-slave trader?! P-please, anything but that! If you need money, I can offer you riches—if you’ll just show me mercy this once…”

Jerry’s eyes went wide as he shook his head violently.

Of course…

Smack!

“Owww!”

“Shut it, you little brat. And I’m supposed to trust a thief?”

One whack from Hardin’s club and the conversation was over.

‘Why do I feel like… we were like that once, too…’

‘Brings back memories, huh?’

A hint of sympathy flickered across the faces of Malion and Beryl as they reminisced.

As their journey continued, Hardin, looking bored, muttered to himself.

“Should be about time… for the fish to show up.”

And as if someone had been listening—

BWOOOOOOOOOO!

A harsh blare of a warhorn echoed from beyond the fog.

Everyone aboard turned their gaze toward the source of the sound.

“…What is that.”

From within the mist, massive shadows began to stir.

And as they drew closer and larger—

“Wh… wha—?!”

What the hell now?

Six or so colossal warships emerged from the fog, surrounding them before anyone realized it.

Tip: Tap/click the left or right side of the screen to go to previous/next chapter.