Since Duke Sanga had given up on acquiring the carriage, not a single earl made any remark suggesting they wanted one either. Instead, they seemed to have taken an interest in the technologies applied to the vehicle and were probing for details on its construction. I limited my explanations to things visible from the outside—the pseudo-rubber tires made from frog material used for the wheels, and the leaf springs installed between the wheel axles and the box—while keeping the crucial internal mechanisms to myself. The earls were pleased enough, but from Duke Sanga's perspective, it probably wasn't particularly valuable information.
I feel bad for the earls who were satisfied with my explanation, but the carriage's greatest feature is the coil springs we finally managed to develop, which function as a suspension system. Six springs are used in total—two at the center of the front axle and two on each side of the rear axles—but they're hidden behind covers so they can't be seen from outside, meaning you'd have to disassemble the carriage to spot them.
Only Albert knows about the springs. I did ask him to keep quiet, though I told him it was fine if the secret got out due to some trouble or if it simply couldn't be kept any longer. Even if someone managed to mimic the shape and produce a rough imitation, building one sturdy enough for actual use in a carriage wouldn't be so easy, so there shouldn't be any risk of malicious exploitation. Incidentally, when crafting the new carriage I'm giving to Albert and Eliza as a gift, I also used coil springs experimentally in my own carriage, so at present only two carriages in existence have them.
"So, Eliza—have the suspicions about Tenma and me conspiring against you been cleared up?"
Eliza, who had been frozen in shock, finally took in the situation and started moving again. She began examining every detail even more closely than Albert, chattering away to him about where she wanted to place various items.
"Yes, I truly apologize. When I really think about it, even setting Albert aside, there's no way Tenma would ever engage in womanizing. Not by temperament, and not by circumstance."
The misunderstanding appeared to have been resolved, but I got the distinct impression she'd tossed in some rather rude remarks under the guise of an apology. The temperament part had been her running joke for a while now, so I didn't mind, but someone who didn't know better might have thought Eliza was picking a fight with me. For reference, by "temperament" she meant that I'm timid and shy, and by "circumstance" she meant that not only was I engaged to Primera, but also that rather than fooling around with women outside, I'd sooner make a move on Jeanne or Amour first. This had come up as a joke at a party hosted by Count Silfield, and somehow it reached his ears—after the party, Eliza got a genuine scolding and both she and I ended up bowing our heads in front of the count. In the end, Albert stepped in to explain it was just friends goofing around, and Cain and Lion, who were also present, smoothed things over, so it was resolved like any other funny anecdote. However, from that day forward, whenever Eliza teased me in public, she started being a bit more roundabout about it. Not that it's something to be proud of—I also call Albert and the others "the Three Idiots" and tease them (especially Lion) plenty, so I really can't take the moral high ground on this.
"Come to think of it, Tenma—how's the newly discovered dungeon coming along? The royal family made an official announcement, so I know the basics, but there's still a lot I can't tell from that."
Duke Sanga, apparently wanting to change the subject, brought up the dungeon as if it had just occurred to him. The earls seemed equally intrigued by the topic and had inched closer than before.
"We're currently exploring around the thirtieth floor or so… To be blunt, there's almost absolutely nothing of value to be found. I mean, it is a first-time conquest of an unexplored dungeon, so it's interesting in that regard, but the hardships more than outweigh the fun."
"You were exploring together with Merlin and the 'Dawn Sword,' right? If that team has taken three months to reach only the thirtieth floor, it does feel like slow progress."
As Duke Sanga pointed out, even with Jin and his group—who were experienced dungeon divers—alongside my grandfather and me (plus Slarin's group and the golems), the fact that we were still milling about around the thirtieth floor meant no one could deny the pace was slow.
Exploring an uncharted dungeon alongside Jin and the others was genuinely enjoyable, but we were experiencing hardships and difficulties equal to or greater than that enjoyment. And the reason for the slow progress lay squarely in those hardships.
Hardship number one was the near-total absence of harvestable materials. In the dungeon where the Hydra had served as the boss, we'd managed to obtain some kind of material on every floor—ores, herbs, monster parts, and the like. In this newly discovered dungeon, however, we'd found nothing. The only material we'd managed to collect so far was skeleton bones.
Hardship number two was that each floor was absurdly vast. We ended up walking so much that when I used Exploration to survey the area, I found some floors required us to walk roughly the entire circumference of Seigen. And to make matters worse, those floors were almost always a single straight path, eating up enormous amounts of time. The one saving grace was that, just like the upper dungeon, warp zones existed.
And hardship number three: the smell. It was caused by the stench given off by the flesh golems. They already reeked on their own, but having them scattered throughout the sealed, enclosed space of a dungeon meant the stench permeated everywhere. The foul smell was unanimously voted the worst part of the experience, and Garat, whose sense of smell was especially keen as a beastman, had it the worst of all—he was constantly pinching his nose with tears in his eyes while grumbling.
"The stench means you never feel properly rested during breaks, anything you eat feels like it's going to come back up, and the smell clings to your body and clothes, so even after leaving the dungeon it's a whole ordeal."
Our most effective strategy for tackling this new dungeon so far had been to leave the dungeon the moment we found a warp zone. In other words, the reason the dungeon was taking so long to clear—despite being low enough in difficulty to call it a cakewalk—was simply that we weren't spending very long inside at a stretch.
Given all of this, the Orasion (grandpa and me only) team and the Dawn Sword, who had originally planned to explore separately, were now conquering the dungeon together.
"If we could find good materials or rare ones, I'd feel more motivated to push through no matter how bad the smell… but all we're finding is rotting flesh and bones, so my morale stays rock bottom."
Even grandpa said he'd never experienced anything this terrible, so without a doubt this ranked near the absolute bottom of my entire adventurer career—past and future combined. I hoped it wouldn't get any worse, and that I'd never have to endure anything quite this bad again.
"Well, even if my spirits aren't exactly soaring, I'm still planning to keep pushing through the dungeon… That said, don't expect any souvenirs. At this point, the only things I can imagine bringing back are dungeon stones, dirt, rotting meat and bones, and maybe a stench that could twist your nose off. That's about it."
"We kind of feel bad for you. And forget the souvenirs—just take care of yourself."
The Duke and the others seemed sympathetic but also subtly edged away from me.
"So, um, Tenma… when are you heading back to Seigen?"
Albert spoke up, apparently unable to endure the awkward atmosphere any longer. The distance between us hadn't exactly shrunk, though.
"I'm leaving tomorrow. Jin and the others are waiting in Seigen, and it wouldn't be right to keep them waiting too long."
Knowing Jin's group, they were probably mining near the Hydra's floor rather than diving into the new dungeon, so they'd likely tell me to take my time. But my joining them meant that starting from the day after tomorrow, we'd be plunging back into the stinking dungeon.
"I see. Do your best. And I don't need a souvenir either."
Albert said essentially the same thing as the Duke, and so I returned to the manor amid the same subtly awkward atmosphere. Primera had liaison duties starting tomorrow and wouldn't be coming by, so I was the only one being sent off. It almost felt like I was being kicked out.
"You seem oddly fired up—did something happen in the Royal Capital?"
A few days later, I'd reunited with Jin and the others in Seigen and was throwing myself into the dungeon exploration with vigor. I was so eager and pushing forward so aggressively (or so it appeared) that Jin and the others had started worrying something was wrong. When I told them I just wanted to finish this dungeon as quickly as possible and be done with it, Menace and Lina were the first to grin, followed by grandpa and the rest wearing identical knowing smiles. They probably thought it had something to do with Albert and Eliza's wedding, but really I was just venting my frustration by scattering skeleton after skeleton—and I genuinely wanted this over with. That said, since we didn't know when this dungeon had formed, it was entirely possible that as much time had passed as in the upper dungeon, meaning it could potentially have close to a hundred floors. If that turned out to be the case, I'd probably give up somewhere along the way, but as long as the only enemies that kept appearing were weak ones like skeletons, the whole thing might take less than a few years.
As we were making our way along—
"Wait! There's a sound of wind coming from this direction!"
Garat called for everyone to halt. Inside a dungeon, the sound of wind meant that something was generating it, or that the terrain was shaped in such a way as to create a pressure differential. Yet there was no sound of anything moving like a monster, and my Exploration failed to detect any presence. Instead of monsters, what existed there was…
(A pit, is it?)
It was a massive vertical shaft. It seemed to extend quite far down, but equally far upward as well. The fact that I hadn't noticed it despite using Exploration several times was rather embarrassing—but perhaps the upper portion had been completely sealed off, or the opening had simply been too small.
"There don't seem to be any sounds of monsters moving. Should we go take a look?"
Everyone nodded at my suggestion. If it turned out to be a dead end, we could simply turn back. Since there was no guarantee we'd be able to return to this floor, curiosity demanded we investigate. The trip might prove fruitless, but the potential for uncovering useful information was equally great.
"It's bigger than I expected. Easily over ten meters across, I'd say? As for the depth… it's too dark to tell, but a fall would almost certainly be fatal."
Jin peered into the pit while making this assessment, but Garat and I weren't really listening. Instead, we quietly crept up behind Jin—and just as we were about to reach for his back—
"Tenma, Garat, that sort of joke isn't funny. Cut it out."
Grandpa stopped us just before our hands made contact. Jin reacted to grandpa's voice and spun around to assess the situation, but in doing so he startled and lurched backward, nearly tumbling into the pit.
"Are you kidding me?! Seriously?!"
"No no, we were just about to grab your clothes to keep you from falling like we would for anyone else. Right, Tenma?"
"Absolutely. Purely benevolent intentions."
There was some back-and-forth, but opinions diverged on what to do next, so we decided to take a break right there in front of the pit. As luck would have it, the wind flowing from the pit carried clean air—clean by this dungeon's standards—rather than the stench of rotting flesh, since apparently no flesh golems existed on the other side. This meant it might be our first real, proper rest since entering this dungeon.
"This is the first time a meal inside this dungeon has actually tasted good…"
Jin murmured this with genuine feeling, and we all quietly nodded. It wasn't entirely odorless, but the stench was incomparably fainter than anywhere else, so it didn't interfere with eating.
"So, what do we do from here? Off the top of my head, there are three options. One: ignore the pit and keep moving forward. Two: descend into the pit. Three: make this spot our camp for the day and rest here…"
Jin laid out three options, but the third was a no-go. Even if we did decide to camp here, it would make far more sense to descend into the pit first, and only set up camp if it turned out to be a dead end and we had to come back.
When I suggested this, grandpa and Garat agreed it was the best approach, and Jin said, "Yeah, that's better." Menace chose the "keep moving forward" option, and Lina said they might as well camp here since there was no telling where they'd find another rest spot ahead. Thus:
"Then let's put it to a vote: we descend into the pit, and if it's a dead end we come back here and camp. Everyone agree? Tenma, Merlin—when we descend, we'll need your support."
Normally, descending a pit like this required specialized equipment and specialized knowledge. But when you had even a single person capable of movement magic—like grandpa or me—equipment and expertise became unnecessary. We could descend more easily, more safely, and faster.
"That's fine, but carrying everyone up one at a time would be a pain, so I'm going to have you all get inside the Dimension Bag."
"That works—or rather, it's even better since we can relax in there."
The usual Dimension Bag that Slarin and the others traveled in wasn't with us (Shiromaru and Solomon, who hated the stench, had refused to come along and were minding the fort in the Royal Capital; as for Slarin, the smell didn't bother him, but he'd stayed behind to supervise since Shiromaru and Solomon would be on their own). However, we had the bag meant for Raiden as well as the one used for temporarily storing and processing materials, so the group would have to choose one or the other.
"Just so you know, the one meant for Raiden is spacious enough to lie down and stretch out in, but if you upset Raiden's mood, there's a real chance he'll attack without mercy. The materials bag has all kinds of cargo inside, so you can't lie down, but sitting is possible. It is a bit cold and might smell a bit, though."
When I explained this, all four of them unanimously chose the materials bag. They said that despite regular airing-out and cleaning, the stench could never be completely eliminated—but compared to this dungeon, it was practically odorless.
"Then we're heading on ahead."
The pit was quite wide, but descending two at a time was dangerous, and more importantly, the width might not hold up the deeper we went. So I would go first, and grandpa would descend once I gave the signal.
Grandpa had suggested he could just wait in the bag with Jin and the others, but he pointed out that there was a possibility of monsters descending from above, and more critically, if something happened to me while descending alone, everyone inside the bag could be caught up in it, resulting in a total party wipe. It was safer to have two people so they could cover for each other if something went wrong.
The inside of the shaft was quite dark—just peering in from above, you couldn't see anything ten meters down. However, using the same light-generating magic we'd employed at Celna's wedding solved that problem. But—
"This pit has a depth of over a hundred meters."
"Well, that's… troublesome."
The pit was deeper than I'd expected. I said a hundred meters, but Exploration showed it to be more than twice that. To be more precise, the vertical shaft continued for about a hundred meters before curving into a more slanted passage.
(Maybe it's about time I told grandpa about Exploration and Appraisal. It's a hassle to keep using them while making excuses.)
Both skills could theoretically be used for criminal purposes, and knowing about them might make some people view me with suspicion. But it was probably best to tell grandpa. He might have already figured something out, though…
"There are several ledges along the way where we can rest. I'll mark them as we descend."
When I said "mark them," all I meant was leaving shortened candles behind. Even a candle too short to melt and re-solidify would burn for roughly ten minutes if shielded from wind.
"Be careful."
I kept watch on my surroundings as I descended to the nearest ledge. It was barely wide enough for one person to stand, but inside a vertical shaft, any foothold was precious, so I secured it firmly.
After that, it was rinse and repeat—find a foothold, place a candle, and wait for grandpa to make his way down from a distance. When searching for footholds and descending, I used the light magic spell Light, which illuminated in all directions like a bare lightbulb. Using it as-is risked blinding even the caster, so this time I'd improvised. "Improvised" might sound impressive, but all I'd done was take a half-dome-shaped bowl similar to what you'd use for cooking and fashioned it into something like a flashlight. This prevented the light from blinding my own eyes while also giving the beam directionality, letting me illuminate exactly the spots I wanted.
"Maybe next time I'll make a metal tube that works like a proper flashlight. It'd have all sorts of uses."
If I strengthened the light and gave it directionality, it could function like a laser pointer. It might even serve as a non-lethal weapon.
As I was placing candles on several ledges while musing about this—
"The next foothold should be near that slanted entrance… Let me regroup with grandpa there."
It wasn't a smooth, slide-like slope—rather, the passage was rough and uneven like a cave, which meant there were more ledges than before. Thanks to that, even though two people couldn't fit on a single ledge, there was almost always another one right beside it. However, stones dislodged from above could come crashing or rolling down, and the floor was littered with sharp-edged rocks and arrowhead-shaped stones, so careless footing could result in a puncture wound.
"What is it, Tenma?"
Once I'd secured a foothold and called down to grandpa, he descended carefully to my position while keeping watch on the surroundings, apparently wondering if something was wrong.
"I just figured it'd be better to regroup here, since the shaft angles from this point onward."
I pointed toward the passage ahead, and grandpa noticed the sharp rocks and arrowhead-shaped stones as well. "This is getting ever more troublesome…" he muttered.
Up to this point, where the shaft had been vertical, we mainly had to avoid jutting rocks. From here on, though, we'd have to watch the sharp stones underfoot and the ceiling as well. The shift from a straight descent to a slanted one had exponentially increased the difficulty.
"Well, we'll manage somehow. From here on, shall I leave the lead to you, Tenma?"
"Sure."
"Then watch the ceiling more than your feet. A cut on the foot can be treated with magic or medicine, but cracking your skull against rock could kill you instantly."
A foot injury was treatable, but a head injury from a rock could mean instant death. I committed grandpa's warning firmly to memory as I began descending the angled shaft.
"It took more than twice as long as the vertical section just because the angle changed."
The vertical section had taken about thirty minutes to traverse, but the slanted passage consumed over an hour. That wasn't just because I was being cautious about the ceiling and footing—a troublesome enemy had been making a nuisance of itself the entire way down. Specifically:
"Tenma! Right at the very end, something crawled onto my back! Get it off!"
It was a swarm of small insects. A quick scan showed none of them were dangerously venomous, but the lot included cockroaches, house centipedes, centipedes, and caterpillars—all falling from above. When a cockroach dropped on me, I recoiled in exaggerated horror, which sent grandpa rushing over in alarm—only for a house centipede to fall right in front of him, making him dodge with the same dramatic flailing.
That was why I'd initially hesitated to deal with the insect on grandpa's back. Then it occurred to me that I just needed to pull off his shirt, so I yanked his garment up. The creature that emerged from inside was—
"Grandpa… it was a millipede!"
Some people found millipedes as repulsive as cockroaches, but to me the difference was like heaven and earth. Grandpa apparently felt the same—standing there half-naked, he wore an expression of profound relief.
"Hooh… something that wriggles like that—I'd been hoping it was at least a centipede. A millipede is about as good an outcome as you can get."
Whether "good outcome" was the right way to put it, I wasn't sure, but compared to cockroaches or centipedes, it was considerably more tolerable. Up close it was still kind of gross, but maybe with enough exposure it would cross the line from creepy to creepy-cute.
"More importantly, grandpa—there are insects here, but there's no smell."
"That's true. Perhaps we've entered an entirely different dungeon. For now, let's bring out the others."
From this point, it should be safe enough for Jin and the rest, so I called them out of the Dimension Bag where they'd been resting. Jin emerged and surveyed our surroundings, and the very first thing he said was:
"Why are you two half-naked?"
Between the relief of seeing the surroundings and learning the bug on his back had only been a millipede, grandpa and I had completely forgotten that he was standing there in his underclothes.