The scholar—Alec Siles—said he had worked as a palace-affiliated scholar for about ten years before being driven out roughly six years ago.
As for the reason, he only mentioned briefly that he had researched things the imperial family disliked, and offered no further detail.
Leonardo was wary of his claim of palace ties, but since there was a six-year gap—and he himself had a similar past—he chose not to probe too deeply.
Alec had many oddities befitting a madman: a sleeping incense that could knock people out quickly, shoes that left almost no footprints, gloves that nullified magic enough to briefly touch Armsilver’s ring with resistance magic upon it.
Among them were items that had never existed in the world before.
These were Alec Siles’s own inventions, made over years of research. As he told stories—like how the gloves he had spent a decade developing with that ring were torn to shreds and burned beyond use—Leonardo traveled with him toward a location said to hold piles of etaide.
Just when he couldn’t decide whether it was better to silence the man who knew about Nero and his contact by killing him, or to bind him with a contract, Alec offered a piece of information that made the latter seem slightly preferable.
“A few months ago, flyers began circulating in the slums near Fidele Territory, recruiting people to mine on the Elder Millie Peninsula. It’s a place where illegal dealings happen every day, so no one thought much of it.”
He began recounting the time he had stayed nearby to gather information before entering the peninsula himself.
“But at that time, monster attacks were worsening, so the guards, knights, and the Council’s Southern Branch were all focused on the peninsula. The men who saw the flyers just sneered. Who in their right mind would go there then?”
“...”
“On top of that, since patrols and surprise inspections around the slums grew less frequent, some incidents happened there—but still, no one wanted to head into the peninsula.”
At Alec’s words, Leonardo, who had been walking ahead while watching the surroundings, looked back.
“But after a few weeks, those flyers vanished, and new ones were posted. They said if you mined on the peninsula for a set period, you’d receive thirty percent of what you mined plus one million bells. Basically, one million bells for just chipping at a few rocks. Guys strapped for cash flocked to apply. Including me.”
“You don’t look that strapped for cash.”
“If I was going into the peninsula anyway, better to get paid to enter. Besides, it was my first time entering at this time of year, so I thought a group was safer than going alone. Usually, the ones posting flyers like that are backed by large merchant groups or noble families. I figured it would be better than some ragtag crew rounded up by amateurs.”
According to Alec, the number of outsiders who had illegally entered the peninsula was large. And he said people had been sneaking in steadily even before then, himself included.
The reason their presence had only now become noticeable was likely because security had grown stricter as the subjugation progressed.
Not all moved under the same banner. They entered by various means and routes, but most lacked know-how and were soon caught by the Council. However, some were able to move secretly because they knew of the tunnels.
That “some” was precisely Alec’s mining team.
The mining team was divided into several groups and moved in an organized way. Alec’s group was the last to arrive, and their entry was difficult since their timing overlapped with the Central Branch’s dispatch.
These tunnels only spread around the major peaks, so from the border zone to the 4th peak on the central route, they also had to take the Council’s paths.
Alec claimed he had entered and exited the peninsula several times before, so he guided his team from the front. But hearing that, Leonardo’s mind flashed back to the unease he had felt at the entrance of the 4th peak.
That sense of being followed.
And when he looked at Alec’s face, it turned into déjà vu.
“...The one trailing behind me—was it you?”
“Correct.”
With his finger, Alec drew a circle as if he had answered a quiz, smiling all the while. Leonardo let out a hollow laugh of pure displeasure.
In other words, this man had followed behind him at a distance, from the peninsula entrance to the cave at the foot of the 4th peak—right before the procession split into three.
He had wondered who the lunatic shadowing Kazad’s procession was, but it turned out to be the opposite. Like the saying goes: it’s darkest beneath the lamp. He had stuck to the very rear of the procession, out of sight, while Kazad took the lead.
Leonardo abruptly stopped walking. His voice turned cold.
“Then what about the others who entered with you? How can I trust this place you’re taking me to isn’t a trap?”
“Come on, we made a contract. Just listen. I came from there myself.”
Alec grinned as he continued.
****
Torches were fixed at regular intervals on the cave wall. Their shadows stretched long, guiding the way deeper inside. In the next passage, six or seven burly men guarded the entrance—but they were all unconscious and collapsed.
The last of them had his neck locked in someone’s forearm, unable to cry out. The one strangling him wore the face of the outsider Leonardo and Kenis had met.
But he was taller, more heavily built, cold in expression, and dressed in the clothes of Tergio, a low-ranking merchant from Frost Territory.
Crack—!
The man’s neck twisted halfway in an instant. His flailing limbs went limp, and his body dropped lifelessly to the floor.
As the body slumped, the one with the outsider’s face stared briefly at him, then pressed a hand to his thick neck. Tilting the head back, he fumbled under the chin until he found the carotid.
Relief came when he felt a faint pulse. He had worried his oversized frame had applied too much pressure and killed him.
“It’s nothing much.”
He had thought they might take more effort since they were mercenaries formally hired by the mining team, but they were no stronger than typical slum thugs.
He had already knocked out about twenty men this way along the path. Dusting off his hands, he surveyed the sprawled bodies, then moved forward silently, following the torches.
Alec had said that when he led the latecomers into the 4th peak’s cave, a mining associate appeared and guided them to the tunnels. The route was complex, and without that guide they never would have found it.
As Alec said, this area was a labyrinth, like an ant’s nest. Without the diagram the scholar had drawn, Leonardo would have wandered endlessly.
Later, the latecomers traveled day and night through the caves and relocated to a certain base. There, minerals were sorted and piled into massive wheeled wooden boxes. Among them was etaide, Alec had said.
And now those massive boxes were before his eyes.
Leonardo, still wearing the outsider’s face, pressed against the cave wall to study the scene. The cube-shaped boxes stood about three meters tall, reinforced with iron plates to bear the weight. Minerals were stacked inside in abundance.
The path was narrow, and one huge box blocked his view, but he could see two men standing guard in front. They seemed to be chatting more than watching—but they were still stationed there to guard the minerals.
According to Alec, the mining team had a strict hierarchy. At the bottom were general miners, above them middle managers, and above those senior managers who oversaw and monitored the minerals. The senior managers rarely appeared during work hours.
Mercenaries were hired to fend off intruders and monsters, and to prevent miner desertion. They answered only to senior managers. A pyramid structure.
From Alec’s account, the team seemed highly organized. Leonardo guessed there must be someone supporting them from behind to maintain such order.
But Alec said trouble had broken out recently. The managers brought in mercenaries, threatened the miners, kept them from leaving after their term, and excluded valuable minerals from the promised thirty percent.
The flyers had targeted slum-dwellers—people no one would miss—or criminals unable to seek outside help.
Instead of earning a million bells, they worked under even harsher conditions. Resentment grew, until finally a riot erupted and several tried to escape. Alec slipped away in the chaos. The outsider he had briefly mentioned was one of them.
Because of that, vigilance was said to be tight. But looking at the two chatting guards now, it didn’t seem so.
Alec said he had used an alias and a light disguise in the mining team, but couldn’t fully change his face. So he said he would keep watch nearby, not wanting to be beaten for wandering recklessly.
Leonardo also thought it would be easier to move alone here, so he told him to hand over the diagram and wait outside.
Leonardo’s borrowed face contorted, then shifted into that of one of the mercenaries outside—a man with a similar build.
Those watching the minerals were likely senior managers. Approaching in the guise of a mercenary would be far more natural.
He cleared his throat, held his breath for a while, then exhaled roughly, panting. He raised his body temperature to force out sweat, tousled his hair, then ran forward as if in a rush, stomping for effect.
“Huff, huff—brothers!”
As the supposed guard came running, the two men flinched in surprise, then looked at him in confusion.
“Ah, you startled me.”
“What is it, what happened?”
“Haa—outside, some strange guy showed up and is making trouble.”
“...What?”
“The boys are holding him off for now, but you should come quickly!”
At his words, the two frowned, then glanced at each other. They seemed to weigh who would go check. The one on the left, rougher in demeanor, tapped the other’s shoulder and spoke first.
“Hey, you go with him.”
“What? Why me?”
“Because you came later than me, bastard. If {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} Martin finds out, it’ll be a headache, so go fix it fast.”
The rough man’s way of speaking matched his harsh looks. The one on the right looked dumbfounded, but with no retort, he started toward the entrance, scratching his head.
Martin?
Leonardo, still panting in disguise, noted the name. The scholar had said even among senior managers there was a hierarchy.
The man on the left shoved the shoulder of the mercenary still standing there.
“Why are you staring blankly? Aren’t you going?”
Though the shove wasn’t hard, Leonardo disliked being touched and shot him a sharp look. But then four or five more men emerged from behind the box, asking the rough man what was going on.
If no one else had been there, he would have cracked the man’s skull on the spot. But not knowing how many more might lurk beyond, Leonardo only bowed his head and feigned being out of breath.
“Ah, yes. I’ll go see too.”
“Seriously, these days, all the mercenaries they bring in are useless. Can’t even deal with one troublemaker among themselves.”
Leonardo followed the man toward the entrance, feigning he hadn’t heard. The rough one shouted more rebukes after them, then waved dismissively at the others.
He muttered that it must be escapees crawling back, or men demanding fair pay. Such cases had been happening a lot lately.
When the two disappeared around the bend, the rough man suddenly muttered, frowning as if something was off.
“But did that guy always talk like that?”
