Anagin Chronicles

Chapter 083. To Wipe Out (2)

The village representative.

More precisely, the representative of the villagers, who had grown dissatisfied with the sharp increase in visitors to the Ruin, was unexpected.

“I did tell you to call him, but this is a bit awkward.”

Looking at the innkeeper, Anagin spoke his honest feelings.

He never imagined that the innkeeper would be the representative of the disgruntled villagers.

The innkeeper seemed just as flustered, staring silently at Anagin with an expression like someone chewing on a bug.

“.......”

Because their first meeting had been unpleasant, the atmosphere in the room was cold beyond measure.

Macon, ever the merchant, stepped forward and tried to lighten the mood.

“Now, now, let’s sit down and talk first. May we sit?”

“Of course, since I invited him.”

A strange situation where a guest was being given permission to sit in the owner’s house. Or maybe not so strange? Anagin was the guest, after all. A paying guest could be more of a master than the owner. Well, strictly speaking, it was Macon who was paying.

In any case, once Anagin allowed it, the innkeeper sat down across from him.

“Um.... I apologize for my rudeness earlier.”

The innkeeper, having taken his seat, seemed to be trying to ease the awkward mood by apologizing for having turned them away at the door earlier.

Sphinx and Sanchonius watched Anagin with concern, wondering what he would say. Given Anagin’s personality, they expected something harsh.

But what came out was unexpected.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t really mind.”

“Is that so...?”

Everyone around them was surprised by the unexpected reaction. Everyone.

“I was about to slap you across the face myself. If this gentleman hadn’t shown up, I really would have.”

Anagin pointed at Macon.

It wasn’t a joke. If he’d been even a little later, Anagin fully intended to slap the innkeeper until his cheek burst, then force him to make room anyway.

At the reckless, borderline outrageous remark, even the innkeeper—who had dealt with all kinds of troublesome customers—couldn’t hide his shock, while Sphinx and Sanchonius wore expressions that said, as expected.

Seeing their reactions, Anagin asked,

“Are you offended?”

“...No.”

“That’s strange. You should be offended. I said it to make you feel bad.”

At the blunt, excessive remark, a vein bulged at the innkeeper’s temple.

Just as Sphinx was about to tell him he’d gone too far, Anagin spoke half a beat faster.

“But when we were turned away at the door earlier, my group and I felt pretty damn bad, too. Let’s call it even and pretend it never happened.... What do you say?”

Anagin made the proposal, slipping back and forth between casual and polite speech like riding a wave.

Perhaps realizing Anagin wasn’t just throwing a tantrum, the innkeeper took a breath and nodded.

“Very well.”

“Good. Then let’s confirm one thing first, just in case. You really are the representative of those who’ve built up grievances over the Ruin, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“And what exactly does ‘representative’ mean?”

“It means I speak on behalf of dissatisfied people not just from this village, but from the surrounding area as well. As you can see, I’m an innkeeper, so I hear a lot of people’s stories.”

Because the region was a chaotic mix of rivers, valleys, and mountain ranges, villages were scattered everywhere. But since this was the only proper inn around, most people ended up using it.

Countless conversations took place at the inn, and through them, public opinion naturally formed.

Due to both the nature of his job and his personal disposition, the innkeeper often facilitated such communication, mediating disagreements and gathering opinions.

That was how he ended up becoming the representative of those dissatisfied with the Ruin.

“It might seem strange for someone like me, who makes a living from the visitors to the Ruin, to be doing this, but there are reasons.”

“I’ve heard the rough outline. The village chief monopolizes the profits, and the rest of you just suffer?”

“It’s worse than that.”

“Worse?”

“He’s gotten a taste of money and gone to his head. He’s even trying to get involved in that fight.”

According to the innkeeper, the village chief wasn’t content with just making money off the Ruin visitors; he planned to reinvest that money and directly participate in the Ruin expedition itself.

“The village chief has lost his mind. He saw mages setting up camp and thought there must be a gold mine there!”

“......If there’s Orichalcum, isn’t it basically the same?”

When Anagin cluelessly defended the village chief, Sphinx quietly gestured for him to stop. She understood what he meant, but it wasn’t appropriate for the situation.

“Even if there were a gold mine, it’d still be a problem!”

The innkeeper shouted, as if that wasn’t the point at all.

“That kind of fight isn’t something people like us, who work hard day by day just to get by, should be involved in. The moment you step in, whether you win or lose, blood is bound to be shed.”

“That’s true.”

Anagin was ignorant about such matters, but as the innkeeper said, he could tell it was dangerous.

In fact, it was obvious with just a little thought.

The reason merchants and villages near the Ruin hadn’t been harmed was simply because they were outsiders.

They weren’t predators after the meat, but flies after the scraps.

But if someone like the village chief ignored that and stepped into the fray, he’d no longer be a fly. He’d be a competitor.

If the side the chief supported lost, the other faction would retaliate. And even if they won, another problem remained: who could guarantee that the allied practitioners would actually share the Ruin’s spoils as promised? Eliminating him would be cheaper.

“But still, it’s strange.”

After listening carefully, Anagin suddenly spoke up.

“What is?”

“You know this situation is dangerous, yet you’re still doing business with the visitors to the Ruin, right? You said so yourself earlier, but, well, hmm?”

Anagin conveyed, indirectly, that it looked a bit ridiculous.

The innkeeper replied defensively.

“......What would change if I stopped the business? I’d just get labeled arrogant and might even be targeted.”

“Kehehehehehe...!”

Hearing the answer, Anagin grit his teeth and let out a laugh that rose from deep within his stomach.

It was an unpleasant laugh, almost mocking, but the words themselves weren’t wrong.

Just as the innkeeper said, visitors to the Ruin wouldn't leave just because he didn't open his shop; instead, he could be targeted.

Worry was worry, and reality was reality. It was smarter to keep the doors open and earn at least a little more.

However....

“I’ll help you.”

“...How, exactly?”

The innkeeper asked, unable to hide his complicated feelings.

Anagin’s attitude earlier, including that laugh, had been unpleasant, and more than that, he honestly wasn’t sure he could trust him.

Macon, the biggest spender among the merchants who came to the village, had persuaded him, but he still couldn’t be certain that Anagin, standing right in front of him, was really that impressive.

For one thing, wasn’t he too young?

Even if he was a practitioner famous enough to appear in Talaria Weekly, it didn’t quite register for an innkeeper who’d spent his entire life in a remote mountain village.

“Isn’t the Ruin the source of all these problems? Once someone conquers the Ruin, everything’s settled. I’ll conquer it.”

Sanchonius’ eyes went wide as he stared at Anagin.

What in the world is this man talking about?

And he had a point. Anagin hadn’t even been in the village for a full day—how could he conquer the Ruin? He didn’t know anything about it?!

No, it was questionable whether he could even enter the Ruin. Multiple factions were facing off around the Ruin, weren’t they?

Seeming to share the same thoughts, the innkeeper turned to Macon and asked, almost accusingly.

“Is he really someone we can trust?”

“Ah, well....”

Even Macon, who had vouched for him, couldn’t answer hastily, shaken by Anagin’s far more extreme words than he had expected.

Sphinx suggested that maybe he should tone it down a little, but Anagin ignored her.

“Look here. I think you’re misunderstanding something. I didn’t call you here to ask you for a favor.”

Anagin made sure they understood the situation properly.

“I’m about to take action. Before that, I’m just giving you a chance.”

As the innkeeper grew confused, Anagin’s speech became informal again, though no one seemed to care.

“What do you mean by that.......”

“You’re worried about your village, right?”

“...Yes.”

“Soon, some damage will occur to the village. I’m offering you a chance to solve the problem of the Ruin while minimizing that damage.”

Not might occur, but will occur.

Startled by the definitive tone, the innkeeper asked Anagin what his true intention was. It was only natural to answer when asked, and Anagin did not hesitate.

“I’m going to destroy the dam next to this village.”

“......!”

At the utterly insane statement, the innkeeper jumped to his feet, and the others weren’t much different.

If the dam were destroyed, this village might survive, but the villages downstream wouldn’t.

“The village will get swept by the river, but so will the ones nesting around the Ruin. While that’s happening, I’ll go in and conquer the Ruin.”

Sanchonius tried to stop him.

“That’s too extreme. The damage to the people here would be enormous.”

“We just need to evacuate them. Some houses and belongings will get wrecked, sure, but Macon will take care of that.”

“Pardon? Me?”

Macon flinched at the arrow that suddenly flew his way.

Anagin was the one breaking things—so why was he supposed to fix it?

“You said you’d show your capabilities, right? Can’t even handle that much? If you don’t want to, don’t.”

“......N-no, of course I’ll help.”

Macon raised the white flag, but Sanchonius didn’t stop.

“If you do this, everyone around will become your enemy. Mages, treasure hunters, practitioners—all of them.”

“They’re already all enemies. They’re so obsessed with the Ruin, their eyes are bloodshot—where’s the ally in that? There are only enemies now and enemies later. Instead of wasting time playing sides, it’s better to deal with them all at once.”

It sounded simple, but it pierced straight to the core. Sanchonius had nothing more to say.

Sphinx, for her part, seemed to have given up on persuading Anagin long ago and stayed silent.

Now only the innkeeper remained.

“...Even if you help with the restoration, we can’t just suddenly order an evacuation—”

“—You said you’re worried about the village. But you’re the representative, and you can’t even do that?”

Cutting him off, Anagin drove straight to the point again.

Why call the representative in the first place?

This was exactly the kind of thing he was supposed to handle.

“I may be the representative, but it’s difficult to sway people that much!”

“That’s why the representative has to do it. Why else would you be the representative?”

“.......”

"And like I said earlier, don’t get it twisted. I’m not asking for cooperation—I’m offering you a chance. Whether you take it or not, I’ll destroy the dam and sweep everything downstream. Either way."

Anagin rattled on relentlessly.

Unable to endure it any longer, the innkeeper shouted,

“By what right do you think you can do this?!”

“Go ask the practitioners and mercenary trash rampaging through this village despite being outsiders. Ask the ones growling around the Ruin, too. What right do they have to be doing this here?”

“......!”

Once again, the innkeeper was left speechless.

Anagin’s rude, unjust, and presumptuous remarks weren’t unfamiliar. They were exactly what was happening in the village right now.

Anagin was just more blatant about it.

In fact, talking with Anagin might be better. At least he listened.

Truthfully, it was something obvious with just a little thought. He had simply looked away.

Confronted with that uncomfortable truth, the innkeeper slumped back into his seat.

Anagin continued calmly.

“Staying like this won’t make things better anyway. The longer the standoff drags on, the more problems pile up. Even if the mages enter the Ruin, another big fight will break out then. And when it’s over, the village might get lumped together with the village chief and face retaliation.”

Anagin laid out the possibilities one by one. All of them made sense.

“Wouldn’t it be better if I destroyed the dam instead? All eyes would turn to me, and the standoff would end.... So what’ll you do? I’ll say it again—I’m not persuading you.”

Though he said he wasn’t persuading him, Anagin still gave him a moment to think.

After a short while.

The innkeeper answered.

“I’ll try to persuade them.....as quickly as possible.”

“Good.”