I Have a Task Log

The Silent Sword Skill wasn’t something that had to be kept secret.

Colin thought for a moment and briefly explained about the ring and its trial, also mentioning his theory on how the Magic Secret Door had opened.

As soon as he finished speaking, Colin noticed all the Drow’s red eyes fixed on him, and a chill ran down his spine.

Lirel took a deep breath and asked, "So, you’re a ’Murmurer’?"

"I suppose so. Are there any among you who have mastered this Swordsmanship?" Colin asked.

He grew a little interested at this.

If there really were other Murmurers, he wouldn’t have to investigate these strange, ancient matters all alone. Having a few helpers would certainly be a good thing.

"No... this is the first time I’ve ever heard the term." Lirel shrugged. "But I am very glad to learn of this, esteemed Murmurer."

After he spoke, the Drow lowered his gaze, forcing a smile. He didn’t doubt Colin’s claim—after all, what could be more convincing than an opened Magic Secret Door?

Hearing this, Colin sighed.

He wasn’t surprised by the answer.

The Murmuring Ring’s trial had been truly bizarre, and now he had no idea where the ring itself had flown off to. Perhaps other Murmurers did exist, but there certainly couldn’t be many of them.

Colin glanced at the Drow’s reaction, a little unsure of what to say.

It was also worth noting that the Dark Maiden, Eilistraee, was dead—or rather, had fallen.

This event stemmed from the Drow civil war several hundred years ago; Colin hadn’t looked into the specific details.

To put it simply, the Spider Goddess Lolth had fallen silent over some matter. Seeing an opportunity, other Drow Deities began to cultivate their own followers, and Eilistraee championed the cause of those Drow who yearned for freedom.

Then, Lolth suddenly returned, her Divine Power even greater than before.

She effortlessly purged all the traitors, leaving Drow society comprised almost entirely of her own faithful.

To protect the hope she had fought so hard to secure, Eilistraee fought Lolth to the death, only to be defeated and fall.

According to the beliefs of this world, the Gods are stars in the sky.

Though they might fall silent or be utterly destroyed for reasons such as divine wars, their consciousness does not perish. Instead, it slumbers in another world, awaiting the opportune moment to return.

However, this so-called "opportune moment" might not arrive for thousands of years.

For mortals—even for the longest-lived Elves—a dead god was well and truly dead.

Colin knew how these Drow must feel.

But truly understanding them was another matter. ’It’s probably similar to the feeling of losing your country and your home,’ he thought.

"Regardless, it is a pleasure to meet you."

Lirel said, "You are a treasure left to us by the Maiden. Frankly, I wish Thousand Masts City could protect you, placing you somewhere safe to study your Swordsmanship. But the Maiden would surely not wish for your free will to be compromised, for freedom is what She desired most for all mortals."

"Personally, I’d still rather venture out into the world," Colin said.

If these were peaceful times, that might have been a nice arrangement.

But after hearing about all the terrible things from the Gray Squad, Colin felt it was better to have the means to protect himself under the circumstances.

Grinding his Skill Level little by little was a viable path, but it would limit him to raising his Attributes and gaining Skill Level through quests inside the city. His progress would be much slower than if he traveled around taking on various commissions.

If Thousand Masts City ended up being unreliable, he’d be finished.

"Regardless, you will always be our friend," Lirel said. "If you need anything in the future, you can always contact us through Five-Stringed."

"If that time ever comes, I certainly will," Colin said.

He said as much, but with their Deity having fallen, the followers of the Dark Maiden were likely in a very difficult position.

’Truthfully, they probably can’t help me much anyway,’ Colin thought.

After eating their fill and resting for a while, the group headed for the Undercity’s exit under the Drow’s escort.

The combat prowess of these Drow was indeed impressive. They cut through the giant rats, goblins, and other assorted creatures along the way as if they were nothing.

The squad’s packs were already full, so they didn’t bother with loot that was only worth pocket change.

Before long, the group arrived at the main hall with the well shaft leading to the Surface.

Dorn found a rope at the edge of the well and gave it a hard tug. A moment later, the familiar wooden cage slowly descended from the opening and came to a stop before them.

"Farewell, gentlemen." Standing outside the cage, Lirel smiled. "Good luck to you."

"You too." "See you next time, Shadow Blade!" "See you."

Colin and the others replied in kind.

Dorn tugged a signal rope inside the cage, and it began to rise slowly.

With a strange CREAK and GROAN, the wooden cage slowly ascended.

This time, however, the sounds didn’t make Colin feel tense or anxious at all.

Instead, a sense of peace washed over him, as if he were standing in a Church receiving a baptism.

A moment later, the tavern’s distinct smell filled his nostrils. The usually irritating cacophony of noise rained down from above, enveloping the injured and exhausted party.

As they drew closer, the clamor became more distinct.

"Welcome back!" "Thank the Morninglord! It’s thanks to Him you’re still breathing, hahaha!" "Those are the weirdos who went down a few days ago, right?"

A crowd of Adventurers shouted, raising their mugs toward the cage in a toast and sending sprays of beer foam flying everywhere.

Just then, the characteristically shrill voice of a Gnome rang out.

"The squad’s back, with all members accounted for! Anyone who won their bet, come to the counter and get your money! If you’re not here in half an hour, the winnings are ours!"

As soon as he finished, a sharp scraping of chairs being dragged across the floor rang out.

’I guess this counts as a welcoming ceremony among Adventurers,’ Colin thought.

He scanned the tavern, spotted the Wandering Poet sitting alone in a corner, and led his squad straight over to him.

"The folks at Delicious Maggot asked us to bring back a reply," he said, placing the letter on the table and sliding it across.

"A reply? Thank you." The Wandering Poet took two coin purses from the leather pouch at his waist and placed them on the table. "I’m guessing they didn’t have much of value to offer as a reward, so I’ll pay you on their behalf. The same amount as the delivery fee—is that acceptable?"

"That’s fine," Colin nodded.

The Wandering Poet sized up the group opposite him. "You don’t look to be in the best shape," he said. "How were things down below?"