The Skeleton Soldier Failed to Defend the Dungeon
Chapter 69. This World Must Be Saved (2)

Chapter 69. This World Must Be Saved (2)

Magic in this era belonged to humans. Humans themselves were not special, but mages were. And most mages were human.

Of course, things changed after the Demon Kings' descent. Some Demon Kings wielded a power called Karma. With it, they surpassed mages, creating storms and earthquakes, and interfering with the human mind. Some high-ranking demons were capable of similar feats, such as wielding ice and fire and walking on air.

But that’s a story for nine years later.

Non-humans capable of using magic were exceedingly rare. If this story was about such an individual, it was worth listening to.

"What’s this about a mage?" I asked.

I waited for him to speak, curious about what awe-inspiring mysteries Zix might reveal.

Zix replied, "It’s a secret of our race, but..."

"You might reveal it. If you’re fine with that, go ahead."

Zix bit his lip slightly in contemplation. However, the topic took an unexpected turn.

"The only goblin mage, Mudcash, was completely enthralled by the deadly allure of gold coins. He decided to dedicate his entire life to it. Nothing could stop his love for gold coins."

Gold coins?

I felt slightly disappointed, but I decided to humor him with a response. "Gold coins, like the seiron currency?"

"He loved both the Empire’s seirons and the dukats of the Free Confederation. He adored the seiron mixed with mithril for its allure, and he found the pure gold dukat charming for its simplicity."

"And then?"

"Faced with the overwhelming temptation of gold coins, Mudcash decided to collect all the gold coins in the world."

"That’s... rather extreme."

Zix nodded solemnly in agreement. "It is."

"He was a mage. His pure desire eventually led to success. He..." The youthful hobgoblin gulped audibly and continued, "...decided to suppress the individuality of all gold coins by putting them all into a single pouch!"

Zix pulled out a pouch hanging by his side and shook it before me. The pouch seemed to hold nothing but dust and lint, as I did not hear any clinking sounds.

Zix's grew more animated as he continued, "He created a pouch with unlimited storage of all the gold coins. Mudcash’s Spatial Pouch. I can share a hint about how to obtain this artifact."

"Is the interior space distorted?"

"Yes. It’s said to expand endlessly, according to its owner’s will."

The thought of its utility intrigued me. If such a space existed, it would free me from external threats. I could hide from the world. My goal was to build a domain where I could protect what I wanted, free from human interference.

If I could achieve that without brute strength...

"Can goblins or humans enter the pouch?"

Zix shook his head. "Only gold coins can go in. If you try to put anything else, the pouch will spit back out."

"Hmm."

"And anything larger than the pouch’s opening cannot go in."

It was disappointing, but it was not enough to discourage me. If gold coins could go in, perhaps other things could too.

"I’m interested. Can I meet this mage?"

If introduced by a hobgoblin, the mage might not be outright hostile. I thought the spatial distortion Zix mentioned could be a clue worth pursuing. Zix looked particularly proud, likely because he believed I was fully engrossed in his story.

A message popped up, indicating his disposable loyalty had increased further.

He leaned closer and whispered as if sharing a great secret. "Go to the eastern mountain range. There, you must shout like this: Chwiiiiiik, chwik, chweek! Mudcash will contact you the moment he finds you."

"That’s hard to imitate."

I had no talent for picking up the subtle nuances between chwik and chweek. I had only learned human languages and never needed to learn more. After the Demon Kings' descent, all monster languages would be unified anyway.

The two Demon Kings, Ronove and Bune, would merge all different languages into one through their sorcery.

"I can repeat it for you. Chwiiiiiik, chwik, chweek!"

"Couldn’t you at least tell me what it means?"

"In human terms, it means, ‘Do you love money? Yes!’"

"That’s quite blunt."

"It is, isn’t it? But it’s just an old legend I’ve heard. It’s said that if you complete Mudcash’s trial, you’ll receive the pouch."

"Does that apply to other species as well?"

"Honestly, I’m not sure. Other goblins can’t do it, and perhaps only hobgoblins are eligible... Hmm..."

Zix suddenly looked uncertain.

"..."

That was the end of the story. Apparently, the tale was a significant secret for him, as his disposable loyalty dropped by 150 points. For goblins, nothing was more important than shiny gold coins, and a pouch capable of holding an infinite amount of gold was no exception.

I bid Zix farewell as courteously as possible, waving my hand enthusiastically to hurry him along. He glanced back at me several times before finally disappearing into the distance.

***

I reflected on the story Zix had told me. A pouch capable of holding infinite gold coins—if Rena heard about it, she’d be ecstatic. Rena, much like goblins, had a crow-like nature. She loved shiny things. While she liked silver coins and copper coins, her favorite was, of course, gold coins.

If I told her this story, she’d likely jump for joy and insist we immediately head to the eastern mountains.

Clink.

Thinking about it made my shoulders twitch lightly. But I had no intention of doing something so foolish.

The eastern mountain range wasn’t just one mountain; it was a vast expanse covering the entire eastern region of the Empire. I had no plans to wander aimlessly, shouting goblin phrases everywhere.

Moreover, I didn’t intend to share what Zix had confided in me, even with Rena. I retraced my steps. Though the map had burned away, I remembered the way. I considered waiting for the so-called overseer to extract information but decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

For one, I didn’t know how long I’d have to wait. Though it seemed like they might come soon, there wasn’t any crucial information I needed to extract. Most importantly, I was growing restless. Despite killing dozens of people in the goblin dungeon, my level hadn’t increased at all.

Lately, I’d felt as though the slimes and Rena were overprotecting me. They only assigned me simple, easy tasks that I could handle without difficulty, which meant my level rose very slowly.

I decided I'd done enough and quickened my pace, resolving to part ways with the slimes and Rena after this. I had grown too entangled with her, and being in a position where I was protected wasn’t good for me. At this rate, I’d only hold her back.

As the sun began to set, the arrow-pierced armor pierced, gleamed in the sunset. It was hard to tell which was darker—the human blood or the sunset.

I stepped into the shadows, wiped off the blood, and cleaned the armor. Twilight descended with the sound of insects buzzing. The road was deserted, likely avoided by travelers due to the rumors spreading among humans.

While I was lost in thought, the insect sounds faded, leaving only silence.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

From afar, I noticed the sound of hooves striking the ground. A procession of humans approached from the front—a man on horseback accompanied by two others on foot. The moonlight was exceptionally bright, making their figures clear.

The man on the horse was overweight. His limbs were short and thin, but his waist bulged prominently. His graying hair was parted in the middle and swept upward on both sides. He seemed quite aged. His physique didn’t look suited for battle, and his demeanor suggested he’d never held a weapon before.

The man wore glasses—a contraption combining metal, round lenses, and elastic bands. Flanking him were two attendants, one on either side.

As they drew closer, one yelled, "Who goes there!"

It seemed they had only just noticed me. I tilted my head. The two attendants moved to encircle me.

The man on the horse shouted in a rather rude tone, "You insolent wretch! This is a dungeon zone under our management! Put down your weapon and identify yourself!"

Demanding someone’s identity upon meeting them on the road, as though they were trespassers, was a peculiar request.

I didn’t answer since I simply intended to pass by.

Clink.

At my silence, the two attendants on either side drew their weapons—heavy chains weighted with spiked balls.

One of the attendants yelled, "You arrogant fool!"

The two humans immediately began swinging their weapons in the air. The spiked balls spun rapidly before simultaneously launching toward me—one aimed for my ankle, the other at the weapon in my hand.

Their coordinated attack sought to ensnare my ankle while distracting me with the chain targeting my weapon, intending to force me to fall. It was an efficient attack strategy.

I moved swiftly, swinging my sword to intercept the two chains and wrapping them around my sword.

The two struggled, their veins bulging on their foreheads. "Ugh, ughhh!"

I glanced at the spiked balls now entangled with my sword. Sharp hooks adorned their edges, faintly smeared with bits of flesh and blood. I had no intention of playing with them for long. Pulling the chains strongly, I lunged forward and plunged my sword into the necks of both men. They collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

Boom, boom, boom, boom!

Suddenly, a series of small explosions echoed around me. I felt my body slightly lift off the ground as white, black, and yellow smoke engulfed the area. The smoke seeped into the gaps of my armor.

The sound of a rapid-fire crossbow followed.

Whizzzz!

Caught off guard by the sudden explosions and surrounded by acrid smoke, I couldn’t defend against the incoming arrows.

I was struck repeatedly and flung backward, landing heavily.

Thud.

A message appeared:

[Your Health has decreased by 20%.]

It had been a while since I’d seen such a notification.

Through the smoke, I heard laughter. "Hahaha! Resistance against the great Dairo le Rouge only leads to death!"

The voice sounded distant, but it grew closer. I remained still, lying motionless. The smoke hadn’t cleared yet. The ground was a wreck, likely from the panicked use of explosives after the attendants had died.

Bang!

Another small bomb was thrown, detonating above me. My HP decreased by another 5%. A strange thought crossed my mind.

Should I give it a try?

[Skill Activated: Feign Death Lv. 1]

[Race: Skeleton]

[Your racial traits have been applied!]

[Bonus: Feign Death effectiveness has been increased by fivefold.]

"Kahahaha! You’re definitely dead now. You seemed skilled with a sword, but how does it feel to choke on poison smoke?"

So it was a chemical bomb.

The Feign Death skill was working flawlessly.

[Skill proficiency has increased!]

Hihiing!

The man dismounted his horse. As the smoke cleared, he slowly approached. When he became fully visible, he looked quite peculiar.

He unbuttoned his jacket and revealed what was attached to his belly wasn’t flesh—it was a massive crossbow. His small frame, with thin arms and legs, matched his delicate build.

"Take this!"

Whizzzz!

Ten or more arrows were fired, striking my skeleton all over. At this point, I felt compelled to see how far he would go. He had countless bombs tightly packed inside his jacket, and he had already used about half in the earlier attack.

"Die! Oh, wait, you’re already dead! Hahaha!"

He approached until he was right in front of me.

Swish.

I immediately grabbed his collar, and the man screamed like a frightened human. "Gwaaaah!"

I decided I wanted to question him. "Dairo le Rouge."

His pale face trembled, his small body shaking violently under the weight of the crossbow strapped to his stomach. "Hi-hiiiik! Hiiiik!"

"Do you have a death wish today?"

The man desperately shook his head, struggling to free himself from my grip. "N-no! No! Please, spare me! Spare me!"

Thud.

I slammed him to the ground and stripped him of his jacket. Near his neck, I noticed a faintly drawn worm-like symbol that resembled a snake.

"Now, I’ll ask you a few things."