Reader Mage-Stubbing August 10! Chapter 122: 122-Do You Intend To Go To War Or Ascend To The Second Floor?

Read chapter 122 of Reader Mage-Stubbing August 10! by A_Random_Turtle on NovelPedia.

The interrogation was not to be held at the entrance of the village. Neither the guards nor the priest had the right to hold one—at least according to Krieger, who had rightfully taken it upon himself to diffuse the tense situation in the air—and the Otherworlders were meant to be led to the Chief of the village. The village, Blatt, was just as small as Merlin had deduced it to be while running for his dear life as the sandworms chased him down. It was at most a tenth of Prestige Academy’s size, and number as well. The villagers, children and adults alike, didn’t amount to a hundred. In fact, they didn’t amount to much more than fifty in total. Perhaps a bit over seventy, or eighty. The village was characterized by silence. Perhaps that was because of the strangers who had wandered in, since the Drachens were all staring from either their huts or corners like Merlin and his crew were rare goods never seen before on display. But, most of all, a good number of them looked malnourished. It was the first time Merlin had seen humanoid malnourished dragons, but they didn’t seem that much different from humans in such a state. They had sunken eyes, wrinkled skin, frail limbs, and seemed like they could hardly move without falling on their face. He narrowed his eyes as he took in the sight. Sure, he had long come to terms with the fact that the Drachens were suffering—there was no way he could go against the thought after witnessing the desolation all around—but that didn’t make it easier for him to soak in. And not especially now that he was seeing what the famine in their lands caused to them. For a second there, his mind fell into a spiral of thoughts, considering how he could help them out in any way possible. But he immediately shifted the thought aside. Thus was a simulation. The Tower had long been cleared; he had no obligation to try to help the villagers out, because the ones he was looking at right now, didn’t exist. What he had to be focused on was finding a way to clear the first floor and return victorious. They were in their third day in the Tower, which meant they had eleven more days to go. There was no time to have his mind wander elsewhere. Luckily, he didn’t have to try too much to divert his thoughts. Led by Krieger now as guests rather than prisoners, they arrived at the hut of the village chief. Krieger curled his three fingers and knocked on the hut’s door as he called out to whoever was on the other side, the words translated in Merlin’s head. [Baba] , said Krieger. [I, Krieger, have returned]. There was a brief silence for a moment, Merlin and the rest not saying a word, trying their best not to act in a way that went against Drachen's culture. Then the door creaked open softly, and a dragonman whose frailness was more of old age than malnourishment walked out, stick in hand, and his scales a black tint in contrast to that of the rest of the Drachens. [Krieger], the old dragonman hooted. [You have returned]. He stretched a wobbly hand, and Krieger closed the gap to lower his height so that the dragonman could touch his shoulder. [You did well. You did well. Now, you’ll have to tell me all about the success of your mission. I take it that the others are settling in their homes already]? Merlin’s heart skipped a beat at those words. He was neither a Drachen or had gone on the mission with the warriors of Blatt, but he was not a stranger to disappointment. And he was sorry that the old dragonman would have to experience it at this moment. Krieger’s face turned grim. With his head still lowered, he said, [They are all dead, Baba]. The old dragonman froze, his grip on his stick loosening. [I am the only one who survived]. The old dragonman took a deep breath and sighed. His expression bore sadness, but his slitted golden eyes were laced with a sense of duty. Merlin had seen such an expression before; it was the kind Headmaster Im Ilseong had worn when he’d paid the man a visit to ask about Nikolai. It was an expres