"Curiosity that’s too ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) heavy will bring you trouble."

At some point, this armory had become exceptionally quiet.

So quiet it was as if only the two of them’s breathing could be heard, along with that ghostlike voice sounding from behind...

Muen’s body suddenly went rigid, and a deep, eerie light flickered in his pupils.

...However, before he could do anything, a black hand had already reached out first and wiped across the corner of the wall Muen had just been about to touch.

"Long-term accumulation and storage of items containing large amounts of magic power will cause a so-called magic crystal sedimentation phenomenon to appear in cramped corners like this."

Only then did Muen realize that hand was also made of metal. Its joints were controlled by precise mechanisms, and to a certain extent it could move in a way that approached a normal palm’s actions.

But in the end, it was still different.

For example, that hand could so easily swipe across the area of magic crystals, letting rust-like traces instantly spread over the palm, and not care at all.

Because a metal palm had no sense of touch.

"This kind of magic crystal sediment has extremely strong corrosiveness toward flesh and blood. If you don’t want to directly peel off a layer of skin, I advise you not to touch things randomly."

Old Robert shot Muen a warning glance, shook his metal hand, then straightened his back, pulled an iron shovel from behind him, and began scraping away those black crystals in the corner bit by bit.

"Kids these days don’t do a single proper thing, they only know how to come in here and cause trouble..." Old Robert grumbled with a face full of displeasure.

"So that’s how it is. I’ve learned something."

Muen did not mind the old man’s muttering. Instead, he began very seriously analyzing the structure of those magic crystals.

"This is something I actually haven’t seen in magic textbooks before."

"Heh heh. This thing, to put it plainly, is just scrap trash, like cinders. Is it worthy of being written into noble magic textbooks?" Old Robert sneered disdainfully.

"That’s reasonable."

Muen nodded.

Even with his own magic attainment being only a tiny, not-very-proficient bit, he could still quickly analyze that these black crystals really were just some kind of magic residue sedimentation—like garbage, completely useless.

"These bits of trash—are you the one handling them, Lord Robert?"

"Lord?"

Old Robert raised an eyebrow. The corners of his mouth hooked into a mocking smile. "That’s a rare form of address."

"There’s nothing rare about it. Going by position in the army, Mr. Robert’s position is higher than mine. You’re worthy of being called that." Muen smiled frankly.

That handsome smile was enough to make even this dim armory a bit brighter, and enough to make many inexperienced young girls sink into it...

But unfortunately, the only one seeing it right now was a strange old man.

"Hmph."

Old Robert sneered coldly. "That’s why I hate you little brats the most. Every time you open your mouth, it’s all some annoying nonsense."

"I’m telling the truth."

Muen stood up and watched Old Robert scrape those crystals down a centimeter at a time. Perhaps because of age, or perhaps because those hands and feet did not originally belong to him, he looked extremely strained, and the progress was exceedingly slow.

"Something like this needs you to personally clean it?"

Muen asked, and at the same time reached out and lightly patted the wall.

A vibration force refined to the extreme spread along the wall. Very quickly, large swaths of black crystals were cleanly shaken loose.

Old Robert’s movements paused for a moment, but he quickly continued his work, only switching from scraping with the shovel to much easier cleaning.

"Normally it wouldn’t, but you’ve seen it too. Right now, in this fortress, where is there any spare manpower left for me, this old thing, to order around? Those idiots with nothing in their heads but killing demonfolk would love nothing more than to transfer away the few men I have left, and make me guard this huge armory alone."

"That’s understandable. After all, it’s a special period. Every general hopes the strength under their command is a bit stronger. So it’s not only that they want people—they also come to you from time to time to demand supplies."

"Hmph. I watch military supplies, I don’t make military supplies. Where am I supposed to pull extra from to give those idiots!"

The more Old Robert spoke, the angrier he became. Like a box of words that couldn’t be shut, he cursed through basically every mid-to-high-level figure in the army besides the Duke, one after another. His wording was so rich, his metaphors so exquisitely sharp, that even Belrand’s top literary masters would probably sweat in shame hearing it.

"Lord Robert manages this armory. You should have an extremely clear grasp of every supply inside this armory, right?"

Only after Old Robert finally calmed down a bit did Muen suddenly ask.

"Hm? What do you mean?"

Robert narrowed his eyes and looked at Muen warily.

"Don’t misunderstand. I’m just asking casually."

Muen smiled. "I just think that you alone overseeing such a huge armory really is too hard."

"What overseeing? The armory is under the logistics office’s control. You can only say I’m one of the overseers."

"But in practice, the one checking all the supplies in and out is still you, isn’t it?"

Muen’s gaze swept over the neatly arranged shelves. Even though this place was basically empty now, for a long period in the past it had been packed full.

To be able to manage this armory excellently, and not be bribed or threatened by other people with real power... no wonder Father could rest assured handing such an important task to this strange old man.

But it was also precisely because of Father’s assurance, because of this old man’s stubbornness, that the authority he held inside this armory... seemed a bit too great.

So great that it was enough to cover the sky with one hand, to hide the truth and deceive everyone.

"I only did what I should do."

Old Robert expressionlessly raised his metal hand. "From when I enlisted until now, from the Empire’s central army, to the northern garrison, the southern garrison... then all the way, shifting from place to place, to this Abyss frontline, I’ve been a soldier for fifty years. Aside from this body’s now-useless ability to kill enemies, I only have accounting, learned after these demonfolk scum cut off my hands and feet."

"Now, aside from accounting, I don’t know how to do anything anymore."

"Is that so?"

"Heh. What is or isn’t. You brat really aren’t here to tour. You’re investigating something, aren’t you?"

Old Robert once again returned to that hostile posture he had at their first meeting, staring warily into Muen’s eyes.

"You’re suspecting me?"

"...No. You’re misunderstanding. It’s just a routine inspection."

"Stop pretending. I’m not stupid."

Old Robert sneered. "I understand very well myself. With my position, if anything in this armory goes even a little wrong, I absolutely won’t be able to escape responsibility."

"Then..."

"Get lost, get lost, get lost! Check whatever you want! I do my work with a clear conscience. If you can drag me in front of the Duke and chop off my head just because I secretly skimmed a bit of alcohol to cut liquor, then go ahead and do it. Anyway, my worthless head trading for a bit of drink money is still a profit!"

Old Robert grew impatient, shoved Muen aside with one hand, and continued his work.

"Really, there isn’t a single problem?"

"There isn’t! As long as it’s military supplies that passed through my hands, there will absolutely be no problem! I dare stake my life on it!"

But as he said that, Old Robert suddenly paused, and his voice lowered a few degrees.

"Anything that didn’t pass through my hands, I don’t know."

"What do you mean?"

Muen’s gaze sharpened.

"Who knows? Anyway, at least in this armory, there are only two people in the entire Abyss frontline whose authority is higher than mine."

Old Robert smiled for no clear reason.

"One is the Duke, the highest-ranked person here. The other... I think you also know who it is."

...

...

"Muen... sir!"

Muen walked out of the armory, and Ebul was already waiting outside with the squad.

"How did it go?"

"Got it!"

Ebul signaled with his eyes, and Vick hurriedly came up, excited, pulling out an extremely small magic device.

Vick lightly pressed it, and fine glimmers of light appeared on the device, weaving into a full page of dense text—most of it numbers, marked in different colors.

"Good work."

"Not hard. Among those few, there were people I knew—subordinates of that guy from before. I just played familiarity for a bit, and they let down their guard." Ebul said.

"But it’s also thanks to you."

Muen nodded, took the magic device, and switched through the screens at extreme speed.

Page after page of ledger fragments copied by image-recording magic rapidly entered Muen’s mind. After the entire ledger had been scanned, Muen closed his eyes.

"Black Book."

"Search. The last ten days. Military supplies in and out. Detailed."

"Fast."

【...】

Rustle.

Along with the sound of pages turning in Muen’s mind, those dense numbers were rapidly simplified, until in the end only clear, simple lines of comparisons remained.

"No problem."

Muen opened his eyes.

"From the detailed comparison of the ledgers, Robert’s side and the logistics department’s side match completely."

"So Old Robert has no problem?"

Ebul frowned. By all their inferences so far, Old Robert was without doubt the person with the greatest suspicion.

"Only on the surface there’s no problem. Besides..."

Muen propped his chin, as if he had thought of something. Looking at the flickering light of the magic device, his tone shifted, and he murmured in a low voice,

"Heh heh. Now things get interesting."

"Then... Muen sir, what should we do next?" Ebul asked again.

"Don’t rush. Go—"

Muen was about to say something.

But suddenly, a deep horn call interrupted his words.

That horn call was low and thick, as if it came from infinitely far away, yet it still carried a mountain-shaking oppressive force.

"It’s the demonfolk’s horn!"

Ebul and the others’ faces changed slightly. "Those demonfolk bastards are attacking again!"

"To the walls!"

Muen made the decision immediately, leading them as they rushed toward the walls.

Along the way were soldiers moving anxiously, yet still in an orderly manner, hurrying to their posts.

At the same moment the demonfolk’s attack horn sounded, the entire fortress also woke under sharp alarms—armor clashing, blades and swords humming, a killing aura that almost pierced the dust haze above the sky.

Muen reached the top of the wall and looked into the distance.

He saw countless densely packed demonfolk troops spreading in from the end of the horizon. In an instant, they dyed the entire earth black.

A gigantic one-eyed demonman beat a great drum. Banners flew. On those strange, chaotic flags made from all kinds of demon beast hides, unfamiliar characters were drawn in a messy scrawl—characters Muen did not recognize at all.

What opposed this side’s killing intent was terrifying ferocity and death.

And this time, compared to the last offensive, the entire demonfolk army actually looked far more layered.

At the very front were the demonmen of the lowest status among the demonfolk. Their bodies were deformed, their intelligence low. Rather than “people,” they were more like “beasts.” They did not know what death was at all, charging at this fortress without any regard for anything.

...Then they fell into the traps laid in advance, torn apart, swallowed up.

But the other demonmen following behind would not feel sorrow for the deaths of these lowest demonmen even for a moment—or perhaps they simply could not feel sorrow.

Even though in these past few days they had set up as many obstacles as possible outside the walls, for this vast demonfolk army it was nothing more than a few insignificant splashes raised atop a tsunami.

They stepped on their companions’ corpses, crossed the trenches that had been filled flat by those bodies, and continued forward, brazenly launching an impact against the wall.

"This time the demonfolk are serious."

Even though he had long been mentally prepared, this scene still made Muen’s expression heavy. "Get ready. This might be a drawn-out battle."

"Yes!"

The squad straightened their chests and raised their heads. Even Vick already looked fearless.

But before they could even join the wall’s defense, along with a tremendous sound, the entire wall suddenly shuddered violently.

"What’s going on?"

Muen frowned. After thinking for a moment, he turned and rushed toward where the explosion came from.

Halfway there, he happened to run into Funal, who was also bringing people and hurrying over.

"What happened?"

"It’s a demonfolk insider!"

Funal gritted his teeth.

"Damn it. There’s a demonfolk insider in the fortress. They used an alchemical bomb to blow a breach in a southern gate—from the inside!"