Show Me Your Stats! - Chapter 50

Chapter 50

Kalima Jobun urged Ayra to stay there as long as the mage needed if he hadn’t found a place to settle down yet. Since the opportunity to scout a Labyrinth mage was quite uncommon, Ayra understood the reason behind the man’s hospitality.

Of course, Ayra had no intention of going to the Jobun family, even if his estate was destroyed; after all, it would be incredibly boring to be a household mage. Outside the Labyrinth, there were many ethical norms to follow and taboos to keep, so there were too many restrictions on research. If he could have a temporary contract for a few months, that would be one thing, but Ayra planned to return to the Labyrinth if his territory collapsed and he had nowhere to go.

The reason why Labyrinth mages didn’t often leave their city was simple: life in the Labyrinth was fun and comfortable. It was a completely different world there. Reincarnators and transmigrators re-invented all sorts of convenient objects or devices from their previous world; loveable monsters and loyal slaves served the mages.

After leaving the VIP lounge, Ayra wandered slowly through the mansion, organizing his future schedule. Lost in worries about how to sustain his territory, he stumbled on the last step. Suddenly, a dialogue box appeared before his eyes.

Wondering what this conversation might be, Ayra looked around and discovered two well-dressed men in the garden. They were stooped over, whispering to each other. Curiosity piqued by the dubious content, Ayra entered the garden. Because the climate here was milder than Solar, various flowers were in bloom.

At the appearance of a stranger, the two abruptly stopped their conspiratorial conversation and began talking about ordinary topics. Ayra glanced down at the back of his hand; the Pebble mimed ‘working hard’ as it floated a ‘Loading….’ speech bubble above its head.

Ayra stood patiently and pretended to appreciate the flower. Soon thereafter, a quest window popped up. He quickly snuck a glance at the words on the translucent window.

As if he had finished appreciating the flowers, Ayra casually moved to a secluded location and pressed Pebble with his finger. Pebble, of course, created a small heart at the pressure.

“All this to gain the favor of an elder? Where would I even use that?” Even though he said that, Ayra was still going to carry out this quest. The aforementioned “Order” in the conversation piqued his interest. A man kidnapped for religious causes, huh…

After squeezing another 20 hearts from Pebble, he manifested the ‘map’ window. This time, without any disconnection due to server instability, the quest’s goal was displayed on the transparent map. Looking it over, Ayra felt a sense of enjoyment as if he were playing a game–something he hadn’t done in a long while.

The old man’s position was not so far from his current location, near the outskirts of Sobleche. The mage’s steps forward became brisk and cheerful. Following its owner’s liveliness, Pebble also became excited and began to do tricks. As Ayra passed through the street, a subquest window appeared with a bubbly noise.

While amusedly scrolling through the subquests, Ayra almost accepted the [Bitterness of Love] quest. Just why was the quest reward a plucked chicken and a broken turnip?

The walk to the quest marker was long, but it wasn’t so boring–the subquest list was plenty entertaining. Therefore, now that he had finally reached the outskirts, Ayra found himself in front of the target building: a large farmhouse on the verge of collapse.

Tightly pulling his hood over his nose and carefully tucking in his silver hair, Ayra tapped Pebble on the back of his hand.

Reading its owner’s thoughts, Pebble manifested the stat window. A total of five stat windows appeared: 4 had HP values of at least 5,000 and one had HP less than 500.

“Hmm, what should I do…” After a moment of contemplation, Ayra made a decision. He took out a few bundles of cotton and some oil from his dimensional pocket. He soaked the cotton with oil, lit it on fire, and, without hesitation, threw it into the farmhouse. The wads of cotton, propelled by magic, flew far and rained down on the farmhouse like shooting stars. And, with a woosh, the fire spread quickly, thanks to the special oil he had used.

Ayra clapped delightedly, “Haha–it’s my first time burning something as big as this cottage, and it’s burning very well!”

After a while, four soldiers ran out of the farmhouse, screaming. One soldier was holding an old man who had obviously been kidnapped–the quest target.

“Cough Cough. F-Fire!”

“What kind of madman set this fire?!”

“Arghh! The fire is black! I-It’s the devil’s fire!”

Panicking, the soldiers scrambled to fetch water from a nearby stream to extinguish the fire; meanwhile, Ayra leisurely grabbed a few round pebbles. In a few minutes, the soldiers, struck in the vital parts by gravel, groaned and fell down.

‘This is much simpler than trying to break into the cottage.’ Ayra hummed as he walked.

The old man, tightly bound and covered in bruises and scratches, was trembling in fear. Against the backdrop of the farmhouse turning into a heap of ashes, engulfed in what seemed to be deep crimson hellfire, Ayra smiled brightly and said, “I’m merely a mage passing by–can I help you?”

❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄❄

“Venerable mage, thank you for saving me.” Overwhelmed with gratitude, the old man trembled as he gently touched his previously bound wrists.

Ayra, who had been mixing special reagents with the water he had drawn from the stream by magic, created a cloud which dispersed a light drizzling rain on the burning farmhouse. In a humble tone, he said, “No need for thanks! It’s my duty as a human being to save someone in danger.”

“O-Of course.” Dalloc Logia agreed with a quivering voice. Even his thin fingers, which cautiously shook off the ashes from his clothes, trembled. The man seemed quite powerless and depleted from being imprisoned for a long while. And, now that Ayra looked closer, the elderly man’s HP had dropped by 100 from before the rescue.

Ayra tilted his head, ‘Why? This fire was made from a special oil, and it can’t burn living creatures.’

Ayra tried to convince himself that it was natural for such an elderly and weak person to gradually lose some physical strength.

‘Though, I think I recall reading a research paper that said the smoke from the fires that burn from this oil may be several times more toxic…’

Ayra tried to ignore the vague memories that were popping up, and instead continued to sprinkle the remaining water around. As soon as the drizzle infused with the special reagents touched the flames, the flames subsided. After this, the area was sure to become a nutrient-rich, shallow swamp.

After completely extinguishing the fire, the mage turned around and took off his stuffy hood. The old man’s eyes grew larger when he saw the silver hair shining in the sunlight alongside the Mage’s gray eyes. “Are you…from Solar?”

Pebble immediately manifested some dialogue options:

Ayra chose option three, trying to turn a blind eye to the fact that being introduced as a mysterious mage would result in the lowest increase in affection. “Yes, to be exact I’m… Solar’s lord, Solar Xing Ayra.”

“Aaa—so you’re the Lord of Solar.”

Startled to learn that the mage before him was a ‘lord,’ Dalloc Logia quickly changed his tone to be more polite. He looked closely at Ayra’s face, seemingly hesitant and uncertain about the sudden appearance of a person claiming to be Solar’s lord. After scrutinizing Ayra’s face, the man nodded as if he had come to a conclusion. A fleeting look of relief crossed his wrinkled face. “Indeed, upon closer look, you bear a striking resemblance to the previous Lords and Ladies of Solar…”

Though the man looked exhausted, his eyes still maintained a thread of doubt as he looked Ayra up and down.

“Do you have any questions for me?” Ayra asked kindly as he took out a water bottle from his pocket dimension before handing it to the old man.

After quenching his throat with water, Dalloc hesitated before cautiously asking, “Well, how is it that Solar’s lord was here at this moment? Of course, I appreciate your help, but the situation is a bit…” His words trailed off.

The question ‘Did you come because you knew I was trapped here,’ was omitted.

Ayra, who had already anticipated these questions, began to explain with a guileless expression, “Today, I stopped by my mother’s family, the Jobun household. There, I unintentionally overheard a conversation between two men in the garden.”

As Ayra described their hair color, attire, and distinctive features, like a mole on one of their noses and a hooked nose bridge, Dalloc immediately recognized who they were and gnashed his teeth.

Ayra continued to explain. He adopted an angered expression as he said that he heard the two men locked up an old man with the intent of controlling the Mollunka sect. “As a devout believer of our goddess Mollunka, I couldn’t ignore them. How could such evildoers exist in this world?!”

Once again, Ayra retrieved the relic he had used effectively in Dallum Village, drawing a symbol of protection as he sighed. His gaze fell upon the old man’s tattered clothes.

Dalloc Logia’s clothes looked similar to the garments worn by the Mollunka Priests that Ayra had encountered in the slums. Moreover, his clothes were made out of more luxurious materials than the ones worn by Attera te Acht, a High Priest…especially the silver embroidery on the sleeves and collar, which were absent from the other Priest’s attire.

At Ayra’s words, Dalloc Logia was deeply pleased and lowered his suspicions. “Indeed… The loyal followers of Solar hold great respect for our sect.”