Chapter 209: The Excited Dwarf

A camp that had appeared out of nowhere, people fleeing in a mad panic... Although the situation seemed wrong no matter how you looked at it, according to Seymour, nothing else had occurred in the week since its appearance. Therefore, while the matter was important, it wasn’t exactly urgent.

"I suggest we open the chest first," said Mazarino. As the Arcane Consultant, he had been silent until now, but this was finally his area of expertise. "Everyone, gather a little closer. I’ll prepare some Protective Magic for you all, just in case."

"Let me introduce you. This is the Traveling Mage Mazarino," Ron said, noticing Seymour’s questioning gaze. "He was a great help to us on our recent expedition. He’s run into some trouble himself, so we’ve temporarily hired him as our Arcane Consultant."

"This is Seymour, a Zor who has come to the surface. I trust that a knowledgeable man of your experience wouldn’t hold any prejudice against his skin color?"

"Not at all, not at all," Mazarino extended his hand and shook Seymour’s. "Any Zor who can make it to the surface must be a person of immense spirit and courage. I have great respect for every one of you."

"Besides, I once traveled with a Zor for a time in my younger days!"

After some brief pleasantries, once Mazarino had finished preparing the final protective barrier, Seymour found a crowbar. Straining with both arms, he pried up one of the nailed-down planks of the wooden chest.

No curses, no explosions, and no physical traps. Staring at the contents, everyone looked at each other, momentarily at a loss for words.

"So it was a false alarm after all!" Delaford let out a sigh, hopping onto a stool and rummaging around inside the chest. "Butter, bread, biscuits! It’s just a box of food!"

"It must be emergency rations," Constance breathed a sigh of relief. "This outcome might not be so bad, right?"

"Yes, and no." Mazarino stroked his beard. With Sera’s help, he emptied all the food from the wooden chest onto the table. Then he held the chest high, using Magic to help him carefully examine its four sides and bottom.

"Lord, I believe we must go check out that camp the young Zor fellow mentioned."

"Why? Is there something at the bottom of the chest?" Ron moved closer, but the Weaving Introduction didn’t provide the expected feedback—the appraisal showed it was just an ordinary wooden chest.

"The chest isn’t important," Mazarino shook his head, putting the chest back down. "This chest is just an ordinary box for storing food. The problem is what it was resting on."

"What it was resting on?" Seymour was taken aback. "I’ve been to that spot. There wasn’t anything under the chest."

"Could it be that those young people were clumsy and lost the item that was underneath?"

"That I can’t say," Mazarino said after a moment of thought. "However, I don’t think that’s what happened. Judging from the traces left behind, there must have been a rather thick layer—I’d guess soil—separating the chest from the object that imbued it with a Magic Radiance."

"In other words, the Magic Item must be buried right where the chest was."

"Looks like we’re fated to be busy," Aive said with a laugh. "Are we leaving now, or should we grab a bite first? I’m starting to miss the trading post’s kitchen."

"It’s not that urgent," Mazarino waved his hand dismissively and looked at Ron. "Lord, just have your militia continue to stand guard there. I surmise this is an important, but not urgent, matter for you. Compared to this, we all have more pressing affairs to attend to."

"My personal Magic Items are almost all used up and in dire need of replenishment. As for you and Miss Sylvia, I believe you still have much to learn."

"Taking the time to sharpen our tools now will only help us later. Why not set out again once we’re fully prepared?"

"I agree with the elder gentleman," Seymour said at once. "Benefactor, although we can handle most affairs well enough even when you’re not here, it’s not good for you to always be on the move. Your subjects and the visiting merchants would still like to see you in person occasionally—it gives them a sense of security."

’Ron had to admit Seymour had a point.’ Although his domain was small, it wasn’t proper for the ruler to always be absent. Besides, after running around for so long, he really did need some time to settle down and improve himself.

In the weeks that followed, after making a round of inspections to the various villages, Ron barely left his home. He devoted himself instead to studying the Green Dragon’s Spellbook, the notes Mazarino had given him, and the most massive undertaking of all: that thick stack of books on Enchantment.

Silvia’s life was much the same. The Elder Mage, however, was hardly idle. Aside from teaching the two of them every week, he spent most of his time running over to see the Black Dragon, Aiksuuri.

Yelena accompanied him once. While she was at it, and with Sera and the others for company, she took a trip to the lair left by the Green Dragon. She retrieved the skeletal remains of the Elf from her family and buried them in the cemetery near the village.

According to her report upon returning, Mazarino seemed to be planning a major project with the Sorcerer Annie, but they hadn’t been able to agree on the details with Aiksuuri, so there had been no progress for the time being.

As for the Shadow Spirit herself, she didn’t seem to be planning on leaving. She claimed it wasn’t her own will but a command from the Duke. However, Ron thought she looked quite happy, not at all reluctant.

’In any case, Carolina hadn’t come asking for her back. As long as she didn’t stab him in the back again, he’d just let her be.’

There weren’t any problems with Quest, either. Thanks to the previous "publicity," many villagers had a rather good impression of the upright, good-natured group. Many of the Shapeshifters even began to visit other villages in their true forms, and after the initial shock, the other villagers gradually grew accustomed to their original appearances.

But this trend soon faded on its own for a simple reason: everyone was "face-blind" when it came to the Shapeshifters’ true forms and couldn’t tell them apart. Their transformed appearances were far more recognizable and simply made communication easier.

Amidst this period of peace in the domain, Ron had just finished his scheduled studies for the day and went downstairs to pour himself a small drink. However, before he could down the contents of his cup, a stocky Dwarf burst in.

"Lord Ron, I’ve had a hard time finding you!" Rurik, the Dwarf who had been given the cold shoulder because of his strange rules, was exceptionally excited, his deep brown eyes gleaming. "You must see this report and, if possible, approve it!"

"Old Rurik’s smithy has had a turn of good fortune. It’s finally opening for business!"