Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 104: Investigation

Chapter 104: Investigation

The cobblestone streets of Percival Barony buzzed with life. Merchants hawked their wares, children darted through the crowd, and the scent of fresh bread mingled with the tang of iron from nearby forges. Sir Juno, clad in gleaming silver armor adorned with the crest of his order, strode through the bustling town square, his knights trailing behind in disciplined formation. Beside him walked his second-in-command, Sir Cedric, a grizzled man with sharp eyes and a perpetually skeptical frown.

"Isn’t this barony strange, Sir Juno?" Cedric said, his voice low as he scanned the vibrant marketplace. "It’s grown so much in just a few months. Coincidentally, right when Baron Percival supposedly fell ill."

Juno’s gaze swept over the crowd. The people laughed, their faces bright with contentment. A young girl handed a flower to a passing woman, who smiled warmly in return. The barony’s prosperity was undeniable—new shops, polished streets, and a sense of hope that seemed almost too perfect. Juno’s lips curved into a muted smile, but his eyes held a glint of something deeper, something calculating.

"If the people are happy, Cedric, isn’t that what matters?" he said, his tone calm but carrying an undercurrent of restraint. Cedric glanced at him, recognizing the subtle edge in his commander’s voice. Juno was up to something, as always.

Cedric adjusted his sword belt, his frown deepening. "Maybe so, but I don’t trust it. Too much growth, too fast. I’ve been looking into the mines and the dungeon, as you asked."

Juno raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "And? What did you find?"

"The mines are... normal, mostly," Cedric said, hesitating. "But there’s something odd. Word is, Lady Cassandra knows exactly where to dig to hit the richest veins of minerals. It’s like she’s got a map no one else can see. As for the dungeon..." He trailed off, glancing ahead as they approached the towering stone structure of the Percival Barony Commander’s Headquarters. "We’re about to meet Sir Maron Vendal. He’ll have more to say."

Juno’s eyes narrowed slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Sir Maron, eh? I remember him. Wasn’t he supposed to join Order 4?"

Cedric snorted. "Supposed to, yes. But he failed to impress Sir Lopez."

Juno chuckled softly, his armor clinking as he walked. "Sounds fair. Sir Lopez is particular about who he lets into his order. Much like us, wouldn’t you say?"

Cedric smirked, catching the glint in Juno’s eye. "Aye, you’re just as picky, sir. But isn’t that for the best?"

They reached the headquarters, a sturdy building adorned with banners bearing the Percival crest—a silver mineaxe on a field of green. The heavy oak doors swung open, and they stepped into a bustling hall filled with the clatter of armor and the murmur of voices. At the center of the chaos stood Sir Maron Vendal, the barony’s commander, hunched over a table littered with maps and reports. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes darted nervously as he issued orders to his subordinates.

The moment Maron spotted Sir Juno, he froze. Dropping the parchment in his hand, he hurried over, his polished boots clicking against the stone floor. He snapped to attention and performed the knight’s salute, his fist thumping against his chest.

"Sir Juno! It’s an honor!" Maron’s voice was eager, almost too eager, as if he were trying to win favor with every word. "I wasn’t expecting you so soon. Please, how can I assist you?"

Juno regarded him calmly, his expression unreadable. "At ease, Sir Maron. I’m here to discuss the dungeon. Tell me what your men have found."

Maron’s face lit up, clearly relieved to have a topic to focus on. "Of course, sir! The dungeon is... unusual, to say the least. We’ve explored the upper levels with the troops you provided. The walls are lined with a strange mineral—almost alien, nothing like we’ve seen before. And the forest within? It’s got this dark, deep blue hue, like it’s under some kind of enchantment. The creatures, though..." His voice faltered, and he looked down, his expression darkening. "They’re mutated, far stronger than anything we expected. We lost an entire battalion to a Tygros. Not a normal one—this beast was... monstrous."

Juno’s brow furrowed, his mind clearly working through the information. "A Tygros? That’s no small loss. What about the treasures the first batch of adventurers collected?"

Maron straightened, eager to please. "Valuable items, sir, but not as much as we’d hoped. The adventurers might’ve over-collected, stripping the easier areas. What they found has been sent to Lady Cassandra. She’ll decide what to do with it."

Juno nodded, his smile faint but approving. "Good work, Maron. Prepare your men for an expedition into the dungeon. I want to see it for myself before I declare it safe—or a threat."

Maron’s eyes widened, and he nodded vigorously. "Yes, sir! I’ll have everything ready!"

As Juno turned to leave, he caught a glimpse of Maron from the corner of his eye. The commander’s hands fidgeted, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Juno’s smile widened slightly, a spark of amusement in his gaze. "Interesting," he murmured to himself. "As expected."

Back at the Sir Juno’s temporary mansion in Percival Barony, Juno and Cedric stood outside, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the courtyard. Cedric leaned closer, his voice low. "What do you make of Maron, sir? He’s hiding something, isn’t he?"

Juno’s smile was enigmatic. "He’s nervous, Cedric. Too nervous. A man like Maron doesn’t fidget unless he’s got something to prove... or something to hide."

Cedric nodded, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "And the dungeon? You really planning to go in there yourself?"

"Of course," Juno said, his tone light but firm. "I don’t trust reports alone. If that dungeon’s as dangerous as Maron says, we need to know what we’re dealing with. And if Lady Cassandra’s involved..." He trailed off, his eyes narrowing. "Well, let’s just say I’m curious what she is capable of."

Cedric chuckled. "Curious enough to risk a mutated Tygros?"

But he quickly realized, who he was talking with. This was no ordinary knight. He was talking with Sir Juno Marciel, the same knight who single handedly changed the tide of war. The strongest in the Sturgon. Possibly the Strongest in the whole continent.

Juno’s grin was sharp, almost predatory. "I’ve faced worse. Besides, if there’s treasure—or secrets—down there, I intend to find them."

Meanwhile, across the barony at the prestigious Sturgon Academy, Archmage Mandira glided through the campus with an air of quiet authority. Her robes, embroidered with silver runes, shimmered faintly in the sunlight. The air was thick with the chatter of students and the faint hum of magic, but Mandira’s focus was elsewhere. She had heard about a bizarre incident—dung appearing out of nowhere, drenching a group of students in a humiliating mess. It was strange, even for a place where magic often went awry.

She arrived at the scene, a courtyard where the ground was still slick with the remnants of the mysterious dung. A small crowd of students and lecturers lingered, whispering among themselves. Mandira’s sharp eyes scanned the area, landing on a pile of the foul substance. Without hesitation, she knelt and dipped the tip of her finger into it, rubbing it between her thumb and forefinger. The crowd gasped, and a young lecturer, Professor Elara, stepped forward, her face a mix of concern and disbelief.

"Archmage Mandira, what are you doing?" Elara asked, her tone respectful but tinged with worry. "That’s... well, it’s dung."

Mandira’s lips curled into a maniacal smile, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "This is unexpected now," she said, her voice low and almost gleeful. "This isn’t ordinary dung. It’s... special."

The crowd exchanged uneasy glances, but Mandira ignored them. She rose to her feet, wiping her fingers on a handkerchief with a flourish. "Who was involved in this incident?" she asked, her tone sharp. "Specifically, the student who wasn’t drenched."

A knight trainer, Sir Balen, stepped forward. His armor clinked as he bowed slightly. "That would be Christina Percival, my lady. Lord Percival’s daughter."

Mandira’s smile widened, and she let out a delighted laugh that sent a chill through the onlookers. "Christina Percival, you say? The same girl who was with Princess Maria during that assassination attempt?" She clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with realization. "To think I’d find a connection like this... through dung of all things!"

Elara blinked, clearly struggling to keep up. "Archmage Mandira, what are you suggesting?"

Mandira waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, nothing yet. Just a puzzle piece falling into place. Where is Christina now?"

Sir Balen gestured toward the training grounds in the distance, where the clang of swords echoed faintly. "She’s likely at the knight training grounds. Today’s a practical training day."

Mandira’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. She began to move, her robes trailing behind her like liquid starlight. "Perfect, I will visit her." she muttered, her voice barely audible. "Who are you, Christina Percival?"

She glided across the campus, her mind racing with possibilities. The dung, the assassination attempt and the rumors she hear about Percival Barony—it all pointed to something larger, something hidden. Mandira’s steps quickened, her muttering growing more fervent. "A girl untouched by magic dung, tied to a princess’s survival... and now this barony’s sudden prosperity. Oh, this is going to be fascinating."

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