Remnants of the Demon Race!?
The moment he heard the news, Darrick nearly lost control of himself.
In an instant, Doslepo's face surfaced in his mind—ferocious demons, a city of grotesquely twisted flesh, his homeland engulfed in flames. Scene after scene surged forward, crashing into his thoughts.
"When were they discovered? How many are there? Were there any casualties?"
The questions spilled from his mouth in a rapid stream, barely giving anyone time to respond.
"Calm down," Charon said. "I only learned of this two days ago. A few travelers were attacked, but for now, there are no reports of large-scale casualties."
He continued evenly, "I've already dispatched people to track their movements. Unfortunately, those bastards are extremely cunning. Properly locking onto them will take time—at least a week."
"A week…"
Darrick frowned deeply. "That's too slow."
He wanted nothing more than to hunt them down immediately, to cut them down with his own hands—but there was no faster way to find them.
During a catastrophe on the scale of the Fall of Val City, it wouldn't have been strange for some demons to escape amid the chaos.
If anything, what truly surprised him was that they had managed to remain hidden until now.
"Regardless of whether the Farron Guard chooses to cooperate with the Bedford family," Charon said earnestly,
"I'll inform you the moment there's any new development. I'll also provide assistance for the extermination operation. How about it? Consider this my sincerity."
Darrick took a breath, finally managing to calm himself a little.
"Thank you, Count," he replied, "but I need to discuss this with everyone first. I'm sorry—I can't give you an answer right now."
Up to this point, Charon's conduct—his sincerity, his methods—had been anything but unpleasant. In fact, working with him felt… comfortable.
He was far better than Count Philip. Cooperating with someone like this might not be a bad idea at all.
Still, Darrick couldn't make such a decision on his own. He needed to hear the opinions of the Farron Guard.
"No problem," Charon said with a gentle smile.
"I believe we'll find a form of cooperation acceptable to both sides."
Although the news about the demon race cast a shadow over the discussion, the atmosphere in the workshop eased somewhat thanks to the pleasant exchange.
Luluwo glanced at Darrick, who had grown tense in an instant, then at Charon, who was calmly soothing him. Her thoughts drifted.
The Count wants to promote and cultivate the Farron Guard… and right at this moment, demon traces appear.
Am I overthinking it? This timing is just too coincidental.
She popped another berry into her mouth—this time carefully, making sure not to spray juice all over Charon's face again.
By the way… why am I even here?
No one's talked to me this whole time.
"Miss Luluwo."
Just as Darrick was lost in thought, Charon finally turned his attention to her.
"Hmm?"
Luluwo blinked her ruby-like eyes and quickly swallowed the fruit in her mouth.
"Yes?"
"I've heard that you and your team have recently been creating guides known as 'speedrun routes,' and that you've achieved impressive results."
"That's right, that's right."
"From what I've observed," Charon continued, "your guides cover regional routes and analyses of elite monster battles. They're immensely valuable to novice adventurers. Many who previously left due to insufficient strength have recently returned—you deserve much of the credit."
Under normal circumstances, this would be the part where one responded with refined humility. That was how nobles behaved in plays.
The old Luluwo would've stood up, bowed deeply, and maybe even pretended to lift an imaginary skirt.
But after being blasted by the fear-inducing breath of the Guardian Ape, something inside her had changed.
She simply smiled.
"It's nothing."
"However," Charon said, "I did notice something missing from your guides. It seems there's no content for the area bosses."
Isn't that obvious? Luluwo thought.
Among the discovered area bosses so far, aside from the Death Rite Bird, which one had actually been cleared?
Maybe Gapar had secretly taken one down—but if he didn't say anything, no one could pry it out of him.
Ignoring the subtle change in her expression, Charon continued,
"I'd like to sponsor your development of boss-specific guides. All I ask is that the Bedford family name be added at the end. What do you think?"
"Sure, sure!"
Luluwo didn't hesitate. She never refused assistance—and adding a name was hardly a problem.
Charon's smile grew even warmer.
"Then how about placing the Farron Undead Legion guide on the agenda as well? If the Farron Guard manages to defeat them, it would make for excellent publicity."
"No need to worry about that."
Luluwo waved her hand casually.
"I've already been preparing for it. After all, I'm their ally too."
"That's reassuring," Charon said. "And if you need manpower, the family can provide assistance. Trust me—their professionalism is top-notch."
The meeting ended with both host and guests satisfied—at least Charon and Luluwo were.
Darrick, on the other hand, remained deeply troubled by the news of the demon race.
Before they left, the Count invited them to select a few items from the workshop as gifts.
Luluwo excitedly chose a Warrior Jar Tent, while Darrick selected three wooden miniature replicas of the Farron Greatsword.
Among the Farron Guard's logistics personnel were three children. These would make good gifts.
They were always clamoring to practice swordsmanship, but they were still too young to even lift real swords.
Just as they were about to leave, Charon suddenly called out to Luluwo.
She turned back in confusion as Charon circled a spot on the map.
"This is…?"
Luluwo stared at the marked location.
It was Springday City, roughly three round trips between Val City and Bedford City away.
It was far smaller than Bedford City and ruled by nothing more than a viscount.
If the city had anything noteworthy at all, it was its dungeon.
The Cangyin Dungeon—a forest-themed dungeon whose specialty was an elite monster known as the Green Tree Spirit. Its sap could accelerate crop growth, making it useful for agriculture, though magical alternatives existed.
As for monsters, equipment, or treasure, everything else was fairly average. No standout features.
A small-scale dungeon with barely any influence, completely overshadowed by Sein on the dyed map.
Who knew how that city lord felt about it?
Oh—maybe he doesn't even qualify to unlock the world map.
"If you encounter a bottleneck while making the Farron Undead Legion guide," Charon said,
"you could take a look at the Cangyin Dungeon. If you're interested, contact me. I can lend you the family's only passenger griffin—it won't take long to get there."
"Uh… thanks, but why would I go there?"
Luluwo still looked confused.
"Because something unusual has happened there recently," Charon replied.
"And according to reports—"
He paused, lowering his voice mysteriously.
"They say the anomaly there is very similar to Sein. Many places show traces of its influence. If you're the first to create a guide for it, your reputation may grow even further."
"Huh?"
Luluwo blinked.
"So Basilisks and Crucible Knights showed up there too?"
"No," Charon said, shaking his head.
"The monsters haven't changed. That's actually the good news."
"What I mean by 'Sein's traces' are the terrain and certain traps—so similar it's almost like imitation."
That instantly caught Luluwo's interest.
"There's something like that?"
Her eyes lit up.
"Then I have to check it out!"
.
..
...
After Darrick and Luluwo left, Charon clapped his hands.
A second Warrior Jar Tent stacked in the corner suddenly popped open, and a burly man climbed out.
It was the horned-helmet mercenary who had once destroyed the City of Flesh during the Battle of Val City.
"Well?" Charon asked. "How was he? That Farron Guard leader—how strong is he?"
"He's fine," the mercenary replied. "He's qualified."
"Good."
Charon's smile faded, replaced by a solemn expression.
"You're sure what I'm doing won't provoke retaliation?"
"It won't."
The mercenary watched the two departing figures.
"I'll take responsibility for everything."
"Very well."
Charon leaned back, gazing up at the stained-glass curse frog embedded in the ceiling.
"Sometimes, when I sleep," he said quietly, "I'm genuinely afraid your kind will go on a killing spree in the city."
The mercenary frowned.
"My subordinates are all highly intelligent. We're nothing like the common breeds that can't control themselves. Take that back."
"Alright, alright—I take it back."
Charon sighed helplessly and muttered,
"If my cooperation with you were exposed, the king might even award me a medal. At the very least, a Kingdom Hero Medal. Haha… the world truly is full of strange beings."
(***)
Meanwhile, Darrick walked back toward the farm, his heart heavy.
The fact that some of Doslepo's demon subordinates were still alive was undeniably bad news.
They had to be eradicated—quickly.
But another problem followed close behind.
With the Farron Guard's current strength… did they truly stand a chance against the demon race?
Darrick wasn't optimistic.
Everyone was still in the training phase. Those who could genuinely be called combat-ready barely numbered ten.
Even the strongest among them could only be described as promising.
Thanks to bonfire leveling, their base stats had risen rapidly—but combat experience and technique still demanded immense time to hone.
There were no shortcuts.
…Unless—
Darrick suddenly thought of the Painting World.
Back when he had been trapped there, he had nearly fallen into despair—dying and reviving endlessly, unable to leave without clearing it.
Yet as a result, his experience with traps had skyrocketed, strengthening him tremendously.
Unfortunately, that painting world was far too dangerous. The current members of the Farron Guard couldn't be sent there.
If only there were a less dangerous painting world they could train in…
That would be a fast way to build strength.
Come to think of it, only the Wolf Knight painting had been discovered so far.
Would there be others in the future?
Lost in thought, Darrick returned to the farm—and saw several children staring longingly at the adults training, their eyes filled with admiration.
Smiling, he handed them the replica Farron Greatswords.
Naturally, he was rewarded with cheers, drawing everyone's attention.
"Great! Big brother's finally back!"
The people lit up when they saw him, as if they had something exciting to share.
"What is it?" Darrick asked.
"Big brother, look at this!"
Wisk suddenly pulled out a scroll and proudly unfurled it.
"Klan and I got this while hunting!"
Klan pushed up his nonexistent glasses, pretending to be modest in a shamelessly smug way.
"It's a new painting world."
A new painting world!?
Darrick hurried over and took the scroll.
This time, it wasn't a fragment—it was a complete painting.
[Painting: 'Hawkwood']
[A painting depicting a member of the Farron Undead Legion. Perhaps one may experience a fragment of his memories.]
In the image, a man wearing the Undead Legion's uniform—his helmet removed—sat slumped on stone steps, his head hanging low.