Episode 374
Coincidentally, it wasn't just the Black Dragon Fang that these people were greedy for. The others also snuck over and took weapons they liked.
"What are you doing?" one of the orcs called out as he stepped forward. Judging by his somewhat tanned skin and his hairstyle, he seemed to be a desert orc. "These weapons were brought in by us with the permission of the manager! You have no right to take it!"
"R-right!"
A few of the lesser races, their words clumsy, nodded in support of the desert orc's claim.
The man who had taken the Black Dragon Fang, the director, chuckled mockingly and replied, "So?"
"What?"
"So what should I do? Didn't the management explain it? Listen to the rules here from the director."
"Is it your rule to take someone else's weapon?"
"Yes. You monsters have to lose your weapons to become equal to us."
"What does that—" the orc began.
The man raised his arm with a calm expression and cut him off. "Look at this. We don't have the same teeth, claws, or tails as you. Your physical condition means that you have an overwhelming advantage. That is why you can't use your weapons. That is the rule here."
The desert orc fell silent.
Surely they haven't been convinced by this childish excuse, I thought.
"C-certainly."
"It is possible..."
Unbelievable, I thought, finally understanding the situation. I frowned inwardly.
Well, it couldn't be helped. They basically lacked logical thinking. It was more a reflection of how deeply their environment and education had shaped them rather than their own personal failings.
"That is wrong," I said, having been forced to intervene. "Humans I can understand, but dwarves surpass us in brute strength and elves surpass us in agility. Giants and beastmen also have their own advantages. It means we aren't the only ones who should suffer from this unreasonable action."
"T-that's right." The desert orc belatedly nodded.
However, the director just looked at me mockingly and said, "You are quite eloquent, lizard. Did you receive an education that is above your station?"
I said nothing. He continued, "You are completely mistaken. I will let you know something. The important thing is that I am the director. In this damn labor camp, there are customs. So shut up and just obey. Unless you want things to become ugly."
I wondered what gave the director the confidence to act so brazenly. As far as I knew, lesser races made up the majority of this camp.
I told him, "I can't accept that. I need to get my weapon back."
"Really?" The director laughed and looked at the building behind him.
Suddenly, I felt mana surge from the collar around my neck and it started discharging electric currents.
"Grrrk!"
The orc and other lesser races started convulsing like fish struck by lightning. Meanwhile, it didn't do much damage to me, but staying completely still would draw too much attention, so I let my body twitch a bit.
The currents that raged through my body soon died down. No one lost consciousness, but a lot of the others were foaming at the mouth.
"Do you understand? Here, the director's orders are the rules. Disobey and you will receive another jolt as stimulating as the one just now."
"Cough!"
"Watch yourselves. You don't want to taste electricity when fighting monsters, do you? You will just die if that happens. I'm sure trash like you don't want to die either."
The faces of the lesser races turned pale at the director's harsh threat.
"Well, we aren't completely heartless. If you behave, we won't touch you too much." The director smiled and started to walk away, ending with, "Welcome to the damn Rahild Labor Camp."
"Wait." I looked at the back of his head and dared to stop him one more time.
It seemed he thought I'd already gotten the message, as the director wiped the smile from his face and looked at me with displeasure. He asked, "What is it, lizard?"
"Leave my weapon behind."
"You still haven't come to your senses."
"It isn't for my sake. It is for yours."
"What?"
That thing, it chooses its owner."
The director burst out laughing when he heard that, saying, "It is fun that you are talking nonsense at this point. Is this weapon really that precious to you? Indeed. It is a weapon that a monster like you doesn't deserve."
He slowly drew the Black Dragon Fang and held it up in the sunlight. To be honest, its appearance wasn't very outstanding. It wasn't flashy, but had a fairly primitive look. In the first place, only the minimal finishing had been performed on the dragon's fang, so it was very simple in terms of appearance. Nevertheless, I could tell it was on a different level from the other weapons the lesser races were carrying. It was no wonder that the director coveted it.
"If it really chooses the owner, it is better off with me than a lesser race... Kuaaack!" The director screamed in the middle of his sentence. It was natural since flames soared from the sword.
That must be pretty hot, I thought. Of course, that wasn't really my concern.
I said, "This is why I warned you."
"Y-you! What did you do?" the director exclaimed, glaring at me while clutching his right hand. His palm looked scorched as if he had actually touched flames.
I approached the still-burning Black Dragon Fang on the ground and retorted, "I didn't do anything. It just went wild on its own."
—Don't call me it!
Vulcanus' voice rang in my head.
I inwardly laughed and grabbed the Black Dragon Fang. The burning flames disappeared in an instant.
I could hear the murmurs of those around us.
"Dammit," the director cursed as he glared at me.
Don't stare at me like that, I thought. It made me want to mess with him, unlike the usual Luzard.
***
After the small commotion, we were led to the place we would be staying.
The director kept glaring at me but didn't impose any sanctions. It was strange. Thinking back on his words and how he behaved, he was precisely the type of man who wouldn't hesitate to deal personal punishment.
Is he unable to directly activate the electric currents? I wondered.
That was probably the case. No matter how messed up the labor camp was, it was unlikely they would casually give a prisoner the authority to control other prisoners. It was too risky. In other words, the director wasn't in charge of the camp system here. He was using it for his own means. I could reveal how he was taking advantage of it later.
In any case, he was a petty guy, so he'd ended up taking the Black Dragon Fang that he couldn't use. He couldn't hold it himself, so he wrapped it in rope. Once the rope started burning, he hooked it onto some kind of chain.
I didn't mind not having a weapon, so I decided to observe the situation first. Besides, if I listened to Vulcanus' will, I could pinpoint the location to some extent.
At last, we arrived at the accommodations.
"Hah..."
There were cries of disbelief all around me.
"Are we supposed to stay here?" Someone muttered what had to be on everyone's thoughts.
It was a place so dirty that even a grain warehouse or stable would look like a palace in comparison. It could hardly be called a building. It looked like they had just dug a bit of the ground beside the structure, roughly erected some walls, and crudely thrown over a cloth for a roof. The floor was no different from the outside. There were only a few trash-like blankets lying around. Naturally, there weren't even proper individual rooms.
In other words, dozens of lesser races were supposed to live here together like livestock.
Well, at least it is spacious. I tried to think positively.
Someone who had been sitting deeper inside stood up and approached me. It was a strange-looking lesser race. His whole body looked like a clump of rocks. He was probably one of the so-called rock tribe or whatever.
This wasn't a well-known race, unlike orcs or lizardmen, so it was my first time seeing one. I couldn't help wondering how a voice could come out of a body made of stones.
"Are you a newcomer?" he asked.
"That's right," I replied.
"I am Stonegan. For now, you can think of me as the head of this room."
I wondered what he meant by the head of the room as I introduced myself. "Luzard."
"Yes, Luzard. Is this your first time at the labor camp?"
"That's right."
"Hmm." Stonegan nodded. "Then let's start with an initiation."
A fist made of rock rushed toward me.
***
"So how many times have I said it? Bastard, you don't have the discerning eye to judge a weapon!"
"Ah, Elder! It is really different this time!"
Topepo, a dwarf at the labor camp, sighed.
It was due to the director's bad habit. Every time a new lesser race worker appeared, he evaluated and robbed them of their weapons while making excuses that didn't make sense.
If it were just that, Topepo wouldn't care. He was already sick and tired of dealing with the lesser races. He wanted to be as invisible as possible.
However—
"A lesser race has a fire-breathing weapon? It even chooses its master? You must've been listening to a prisoner's nonsense. There is no way a weapon of that caliber would be in the hands of a filthy lesser race!" he exclaimed.
"Then what do you call this?" The director spread open his hands as he cried out, "I even burned myself from grabbing that damn weapon with my bare hands!"
"It isn't strange to get burned in the desert," Topepo muttered. After all, if the sun was blazing, just a few minutes of standing naked would turn one's skin into cooked meat.
Even so, Topepo was forced to follow the director's order and could only grumble. After all, in Block 107, this man was the one who held real power. He needed to check the weapon quickly and get back to the work he was doing.
With that in mind, he stepped into the warehouse. The thing that caught his eye was the weapon that burned the director's palm.
Topepo was momentarily stunned. For a moment, it felt like a huge flame was enveloping his whole body. There was no pain, but it was difficult for him to breathe. It was a terror that seemed to burn even the air.
There were flames everywhere, but paradoxically, the surroundings were dark. At that moment, he saw big eyes in the shimmering flames.
With a gasp, Topepo's mouth dropped open. He felt like his breathing had completely stopped.
What stood before him was the most perfect structure he had ever seen. On top of that, there was a fire dragon standing above the image of the temple built in honor of the blacksmith god.
"Elder? Mr. Topepo, hey!"
The impatient director's words made Topepo wake up. Once he blinked a few times, both the blazing flames that engulfed the surroundings and the pair of yellow eyes glaring at him were gone.
"Have you been drinking since noon? If you get caught again, I won't be able to cover it up this time!" the director continued.
"Where did you get this sword?" Topepo asked.
"Hah. Were you really possessed by a spirit? I've been saying it since earlier! I got it from a lizardman with black scales!"
Normally, he would scoff and say it was stolen. However, Topepo's head was spinning too much for that kind of thing. He gulped nervously.
He had once dreamed of becoming a craftsman, but was expelled from his tribe due to his lack of dexterity. At first, he thought that the tribe just didn't recognize his talent, but that wasn't the case. In truth, he really wasn't talented.
After that, he got involved in illegal deals, kept company with the worst people, and drifted all the way to the labor camp. Unexpectedly, Topepo liked this place. In the world of these losers, he was treated like a first-class craftsman. There were no wages, no compensation, and no good materials, and life was uncomfortable, but that wasn't the important thing for him. It was much better at satisfying his low self-esteem than the outside world.
But Topepo still considered himself a craftsman, even if it was half-hearted. Thus, he couldn't help feeling awe at such a perfect weapon. His contact with the fire dragon god, Vulcanus, naturally gave him goosebumps.
Topepo asked again with a blank expression, "Where is that lizardman?"
"He must've gone to Block 107 by now," the director said.
"What? Block 107? That place—"
"Yes. That is where the real monster is."
"If you know that, why did you put a new recruit in such a place?"
The director said with a grin, "That brat has no manners, so I thought I would teach him a lesson."