30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?! novel Chapter 126

The moment the blade and spear tip clashed, he—or rather, not just him, but even his opponent—must have lost consciousness for an instant.

It was just a feeling, but somehow it felt certain.

And that brief moment of unconsciousness lasted about one to three seconds, give or take.

He hadn’t counted exactly, but his estimate seemed about right.

It seemed likely that the massive shockwave generated by the collision of Mu-ae Sword and Pa-cheon had overwhelmed even them, causing them to black out momentarily.

...When he came to, what he saw was...

“–A shattered blade and an intact spear tip.”

“.......”

“But despite the advantageous situation, that guy suddenly retreated. And it didn’t look like he was injured anywhere.”

“...Why do you think he did that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he was disoriented during that brief unconscious moment. ...Or maybe there was another reason. Either way, the fight ended inconclusively. It left me feeling uneasy, but he ran off claiming he’d won. ...That’s all there is to it.”

“Haha...”

As Ihan explained the situation, his tone was tinged with irritation, and Derek couldn’t help but chuckle.

Though it was clearly an unpleasant memory Ihan didn’t want to relive, he had gone to the trouble of explaining it, knowing it was part of his build-up.

What kind of build-up, you ask?

“...Still, I’m sorry. I broke your precious sword.”

“Really, it’s fine...”

A build-up for an apology.

Having experienced firsthand the dynamics of being indebted, Ihan avoided Derek’s gaze, while Derek could only offer an awkward smile.

Ihan extended the hilt of the shattered Gladius—or rather, what used to be the Gladius—and apologized.

Ordinarily, he might have acted shamelessly, but he wasn’t so devoid of conscience as to ignore the fact that he had broken a treasured sword.

However, the recipient of the apology waved it off, insisting it was too much.

“It’s—It’s fine. It wasn’t that valuable anyway.”

“If a fine sword isn’t valuable, what is?”

Thinking Derek might be downplaying it to ease the burden, Ihan questioned further, but Derek shook his head.

It wasn’t about avoiding burden or anything of the sort; he was simply expressing his honest opinion.

And then, unexpectedly:

“A fine sword... Ah, now that you mention it, those swords in the storage room did seem pretty good.”

Nodding to himself as though realizing something new, Derek’s comment made Ihan instinctively ask,

“...Storage room?”

“Yes, the [Dwarves’ Junkyard], where failed works of dwarves and hobbits are stored. It’s a place abandoned about 200 years ago, and I use it as ‘Warehouse #5.’”

“.......”

“That sword was one of the ones I picked up from there. It’s sturdier than most, I guess.”

Derek casually admitted he’d just grabbed it because it was one of the cleaner-looking ones lying around.

Ihan suddenly felt the wealth gap between them hit him like a brick.

“So, the richest person in the kingdom was right in front of me all along...”

“That—That’s not true. ...Well, maybe I’m in the top ten?”

“...I think I’ll stop talking now.”

In retrospect, reincarnators and transmigrators didn’t matter.

‘A status window is the ultimate cheat.’

...Damn enviable guy.

Ihan found himself more jealous of Derek than he’d ever been of Maximus’s talents.

“So, who won?”

“Hm?”

At the unexpected question from his junior, Ihan blinked, confused.

Perhaps taking his reaction the wrong way, Yord hesitated, lowering his eyes as if fearing he’d angered him.

But unable to suppress his curiosity, Yord mustered his courage and asked,

“D-Didn’t you fight Sir Maximus? The Black Lion of the North...”

At last, he managed to voice his question, and Ihan, now understanding, chuckled softly.

With a benevolent smile, Ihan responded,

“Junior, do you really have to ask that while I’m eating? I might just eat you instead.”

A low warning slipped from his lips.

“...I’m sorry.”

Yord bowed deeply, apologizing the moment Ihan’s first warning landed.

It’s said you don’t disturb even a dog when it’s eating.

Well, dogs don’t bite when they’re eating, but disturb Ihan during a meal, and he might.

Still, as a civilized man, he’d discipline with his hands rather than his teeth.

“It’d be better if you just bit me. If you discipline me with your hands, it might kill me.”

“Enough nonsense. Report the situation.”

“I’m not joking, but...”

Ihan, shoveling bread and sausages from his inventory into his mouth, asked for a rundown of the current situation.

Since he’d veered off on a tangent, he wasn’t sure what was going on anymore.

“Still, you haven’t forgotten the mission.”

Jake, though slouching lazily, felt a bit of admiration for his friend’s commitment to the task at hand.

...Of course, if he openly expressed that, Ihan might end up biting him instead of Yord, so he kept the sentiment to himself as he summarized the key points concisely:

Aran’s efforts, the number of half-demons they’d eliminated, and most importantly—

“Thanks to our ally, we managed to capture a fanatical cultist alive. Technically, the mission was a success. ...However, those hundreds of half-demons you mentioned? We didn’t see any sign of them.”

“.......”

It was news that immediately darkened Ihan’s expression.

He swallowed the last of his food with a heavy gulp.

“...Did they escape through a passage we don’t know about?”

“On the bright side, it’s possible they were buried under the rubble and died.”

“That would be ideal.”

Even though Ihan had reduced their numbers somewhat and the tunnels collapsing might have trapped some, there were still far too many unaccounted for.

A fifth, maybe even a third, had been wiped out?

But even if they’d been reduced to a fraction...

“Just one or two escaping would still be a huge threat.”

“Should we search the area with the soldiers?”

“Unlikely to be effective. If they’ve stayed hidden for over ten years, we won’t find them now.”

“...You can be surprisingly insightful sometimes.”

“Cut the useless chatter.”

They scratched their heads in frustration.

Even after all their efforts to handle the termite infestation, the possibility remained that some had survived and were heading for the city.

“...Well, there’s no helping it.”

Ihan sighed, and Jake, guessing his thoughts, gave a weary smile.

“We might have to stick around a bit longer... maybe half a month, or even a full month.”

The consensus they reached was to take the safe, orthodox approach.

Tracking the half-demons would mean extending their stay, visiting scattered villages to protect them.

He thought to himself, They’re worth following.