Torun returned to the tent through a side entrance, only to find the atmosphere much colder than before. Previously, Ilarode and the tall envoy from Blackstaff Tower had been laughing, exchanging compliments, and appeared to get along famously. Now, both were grave, staring intently at one another.
Torun didn't rush to call Ilarode aside, instead pausing at the door to listen for a moment. He then realized that Blackstaff Tower had presented a condition the alliance could never accept.
They demanded the Alliance of the Mountain Purifiers provide them with choice cattle and sheep as rations, in exchange for Blackstaff Tower's forces entering the mountains to eradicate the fiends.
At the same time, they stingily rejected the Alliance's perfectly reasonable request to dismantle Rockseeker's Outpost and return the mountains entirely to the Mountain People.
Hearing this, Torun's heart filled with a cold sneer.
Of course—these hypocrites are full of high-minded rhetoric, but the moment they're asked to sacrifice anything, their greedy nature is immediately revealed.
If we hand over all our livestock, what are we supposed to eat?
Hah, negotiations are doomed. Which means, next is only battle.
Thinking this, he discreetly motioned for Ilarode to step out. The latter took the hint, rose to excuse himself, and left the room—leaving the two envoys drinking tea—and came outside to speak with Torun.
At that moment, he also saw the chimera beastmaster from the Chimera tribe.
Upon seeing the Archdruid, the beastmaster immediately began recounting his ordeal—of course, retold according to Torun's version. After hearing all this, Ilarode was visibly shaken. "There was such a thing?!"
"Yes," Torun replied solemnly. "Even at first I couldn't believe it, but clearly they seized the chance, when the Green Vines tribe entered the cave to purify the pollution, to launch a sneak attack—not just to wipe us out, but to claim the credit for purifying the pollution as well!"
"Archdruid, there's no time for hesitation. We cannot trust the people of Liberl Port. We have to secure our own future first, before we deal with outside enemies!"
"What's more, the Mountaineer tribe's reserves this winter are hardly plentiful, are they?"
Even as he spoke, he inadvertently revealed his own tribe's dire predicament. Ilarode's brow furrowed in internal conflict—he weighed his tribe's hardships, Blackstaff Tower's demands, and the crisis faced by the Chimera tribe, torn and struggling…
Suddenly, a tremor shook the earth.
Torun and Ilarode's faces paled, and though the quake quickly subsided, the sudden disturbance became the last straw.
Thinking of the declining state of the Earth Dragon, the Archdruid at last made up his mind.
There's no more time…
Very well—if things will spiral out of control anyway, better to wring out every last bit of value, trading it for the unwavering support of the Highmountain and Stonehide tribes.
Better to gain political capital than lose everything for nothing.
...
Inside the cave.
"Whew…"
Charles unleashed another Eldritch Blast at a slab of rock blocking the passage, reducing the edge to rubble. He stretched his fingertip to rub his temples, exhaling deeply.
Even repeated spellcasting, even as a cantrip, could be exhausting.
Ahead, Nidalee and Willo cast spells, summoned vines, and threaded them through the gap Charles had created to wrap around the boulders. Danche, the shaman, and the male satyr grabbed the vines, low voices barking, "One, two, three—pull!"
Crash—
With magic and muscle combined, a large stone was pried loose, sending debris tumbling to the floor. Instantly a sizable gap opened in the passage, and the men heaved a sigh of relief. "All right, we did it!"
"Let's keep going—sooner or later, we'll clear the way out!"
They encouraged each other. Facing a common crisis, even after the pollution had been purified, both groups had no choice but to cooperate again: mages provided magic, the rest their strength, in hopes of digging a way out.
But in the meantime, they would have to settle into cave life for several days.
Fortunately, the collapsed passage wasn't sealed airtight; a few gaps still allowed air to circulate, so suffocation wasn't a concern.
As for water and food, they had the everflowing water bottle, and Nidalee could create Goodberries, so while there was no flavor, at least they wouldn't starve. It could have been worse.
The only thing lacking was manpower—hauling away the rocks was hard work. Charles, for one, constantly felt the limits of human strength; if only they had an excavator, he thought, it would save so much trouble.
Behind the half-orcs, Willo wiped the sweat from her brow and quietly suggested, "It's getting late—shall we rest for the night?"
Nidalee nodded, "It's night outside. Time to sleep."
Although there was no sunlight here, only Theresa's spells for illumination, the two druids could still communicate with the earth and roughly judge the time, keeping their routines consistent.
"Yes, let's rest," Charles said, glancing at Hattie, Anno, and Theresa, who were already resting, waving them off from any further work.
Throughout the excavation, he'd imperceptibly become de facto leader. As someone from the modern world, he at least understood "efficiency," and wouldn't insist on driving everyone to exhaustion for nothing.
He divided the group into three teams: two worked while one rested, to minimize lactic acid buildup in their muscles and keep efficiency high.
Even so, as he set down to rest, Charles couldn't help but notice how sticky and grimy he felt—deeply uncomfortable.
Spellcasting also brought a toll on his mind.
He craved a shower—but in such a sealed environment, it seemed awkward to even bring up the topic…
Then Danche and the shaman walked past. As the main physical laborers, after a full day's work the two half-orcs reeked of sweat, instantly making Charles's expression twist in discomfort.
No—this can't go on. I have to bathe!
"I've got the everflowing water bottle," he announced. "Why don't we go in groups of three to the far side of the cavern, find a private corner, and take turns bathing?"
"We've been at it all day—going to bed without washing isn't just uncomfortable, it's not sanitary, either."
The moment he suggested this, Anno, Willo, and Nidalee's eyes all lit up. "Good idea!"
Charles let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness, everyone here appreciated cleanliness. "Ladies first—I'm in no hurry."
Anno promptly stepped over, took the everflowing water bottle from his hand, and asked, "So—who's coming with me?"
She too had worked hard today, and naturally wanted to wash up badly.
Willo, a little embarrassed, glanced at Hattie and Theresa, but the latter turned away with a smile. "We're in no rush, Matriarch, you go ahead."
Everyone's gaze turned to Nidalee. At first, she meant to agree as well, but at the last moment she paused.
Her heart pounded, a bold thought erupting in her mind—one that thrilled her all over, even made her shake.
"I'm good," she said, walking over to Charles and taking his arm. "I'll bathe with Charles later."
Suddenly, the air went still.
Anno's brow furrowed as she glared at Nidalee, not sure what she was up to. Hattie and Theresa, after a moment's surprise, both grinned mischievously, clearly delighted by the drama. Willo covered her mouth in shock—were young people really this brazen nowadays, saying things like this in public? The half-orcs, for their part, looked completely unfazed; to them, if the pair were engaged, sharing anything was quite normal.
As for Charles, feeling Anno's dangerous glare, he hurriedly pushed Nidalee away. "Cut it out—you go now."
Nidalee giggled, shot Anno a look, and felt a delightful thrill.
Then, feigning dramatic disappointment, she said, "All right, I'll get clean first—and meet you at your tent afterward…"
With that, she took Anno and Willo by the arm, leading the way into the depths of the cavern. Charles rubbed his forehead, noticing Anno's dark look as she left, and felt more and more troubled.
Damn it—Nidalee, that girl, is getting out of control.
I'll have to lay down the law!
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