Chapter Seventeen: Complete in Every Aspect

Standing in the open space at the center of the small town, barely deserving the name of a square, Eric looked up toward the high northern slope. He could faintly see the town lord’s guards leisurely relaxing at their post.

He cursed silently to himself.

After going around once, he realized that rather than calming the villagers, he had been cleaning up the mess caused by his own guards’ nonsense.

Going door to door to notify everyone was incredibly inefficient, so a passing local cleric suggested an idea.

Ding dong—

The old iron bell in the square, weathered and rusted, still rang out clearly, its sound echoing throughout the entire town.

Hearing the bell, the villagers gradually gathered around. Eric spotted a middle-aged man who, noticing Sister Alena, the abbess, approached and bowed humbly.

He soon learned from a cleric that the man was the father of the Eddy brothers—poor old fellow, having lost both his sons. “If only they hadn’t insisted on going in, this wouldn’t have happened...” the cleric sighed.

Eric pursed his lips but said nothing.

“Young master.”

He turned his head to see Leslie riding up on horseback. “I heard the bell ringing over here, is something wrong?”

“I heard the town lord’s guards were talking nonsense and causing a disturbance. The villagers are considering uprising.”

“That serious? Should we return to the city and bring more men over?”

Eric gave him a long sidelong glance.

After being stared down for a while, the captain of the guards finally caught on. “Young master, such jokes are not to be taken lightly...”

“Wait a moment, go tell the villagers it was just a joke before and see how they respond.”

As they spoke, a fast horse suddenly charged into the town.

Slowing down while passing through the square, the rider noticed the young master and the captain standing at the crowd’s edge and immediately stopped.

“Young master, a letter from the count!”

Eric’s spirit lifted—the uncle’s reply had arrived.

The guard dismounted, opened a wooden box containing the letter, and handed it to him.

“Thank you for your hard work. You may rest now. Leslie, give him a little extra pay later.”

“Yes, sir.”

Eric took the letter and immediately scanned through it on the spot.

Edgar had agreed to his plan to reopen the mine and said Eric could make decisions on some local matters himself. For larger arrangements, like recruiting refugees as miners, they would discuss those after he had eliminated the undead and returned.

Eric read the letter twice before handing it to Leslie.

“The count has approved reopening the mine.”

“Yeah, but that’s after we leave. The priority is still clearing out the undead inside.”

Eric stretched and glanced around. After all this time, most of the villagers had gathered in the square.

Several local clerics were calling to the villagers and maintaining order, while the two nuns gradually became the center of attention.

“Sister Alena, most of the townsfolk have arrived,” one cleric informed her.

She nodded and looked toward Eric, who squeezed through the crowd to join her.

“Let’s begin. You say your part, I’ll fill in the rest.”

Eric stepped up to the rusty iron bell and struck it loudly a few times, quieting the noisy crowd.

All eyes turned to him, then shifted to the abbess standing on the stone platform.

...

Alena was not used to such intense attention, but after two days of this, she found herself adapting quickly.

“Residents of Vale, followers of Yela...”

She spoke the same words she had shared earlier in private with the villagers—the undead were under control, and the town had been secured.

Though they had anticipated this, hearing such good news directly from a sister of the Holy Capital brought visible relief to many.

But the crowd’s mood quickly shifted when a young man stepped onto the platform after the abbess.

...

Sensing the change in atmosphere, Eric first shot Leslie a warning glance.

“Everyone, please don’t be nervous.”

He scanned the villagers, then introduced himself: “I am Eric Kimino, nephew of Edgar Kimino, Lord of Dante County and the Lord of Ori City.”

Drawing the straight sword borrowed from Leslie, he pointed it toward the sky.

The sword of judgment!

Its blade gleamed coldly before suddenly being enveloped in a golden light, instantly drawing the villagers’ gaze and sparking awe.

“The team sent by the town lord to eliminate the undead is led by me.”

Back among the crowd, Alena could feel the atmosphere beginning to shift.

“I believe you’ve all seen—”

Eric half-turned, sword pointing to the northern slope, “The town lord’s guards entered the mine today. Our investigation estimates the undead number in the thousands.”

A sharp intake of breath came from below.

“But now, we have eliminated about one quarter of them.”

Eric swept a look around.

“And I assure you, it will only be a few more days before they are all wiped out.”

“That’s wonderful!”

A little girl of seven or eight started the cheer, and the once-silent crowd quickly erupted in excitement. Though the same good news had just been announced by the holy messenger, people’s emotions were always more stirred by concrete facts.

“I told you there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Thank goodness for the count’s guards…”

“Ah, these past few days really scared me.”

As the villagers’ cheers gradually subsided, Eric continued with plans to reopen the mine.

Surprisingly, this news, which would truly affect their future lives, barely caused a stir.

Villagers exchanged puzzled looks.

The mine had been sealed over two centuries ago, and the memory of the town’s early days had long faded through generations. Many villagers might never have seen a pickaxe in their lives.

Eric didn’t mind. Reopening the mine was a systematic project, and by the time recruitment and excavation began, he himself would likely be far away.

He was merely giving them a heads-up to prepare.

Having finished speaking, Eric had nothing more to say. He stepped down from the platform and turned to leave, letting the villagers slowly digest the news.

“Back to camp.”

Riding Leslie’s horse back to the camp atop the slope, he glanced back to see the crowd dispersing gradually.

The setting sun cast a crimson glow across the land.

Long shadows melted into twilight, enveloping the sky.

“Games are games, life is life...”

Leslie, jogging alongside, heard the young master mutter softly.

After sunset, darkness came swiftly.

The campfire was lit, and the villagers who had helped along prepared dinner for them. Compared to the hurried arrival the night before, today felt relaxed and easy.

Eric sat by the fire, roasting a skewer of meat himself.

Leslie sat opposite him, then suddenly rose to meet several villagers approaching from below. After a while, he returned to the fire.

In the shifting light, Eric couldn’t see clearly. “Something up?”

“What?”

Leslie sat down again, then realized. “Oh, nothing special. It’s the local blacksmith. When we came back from the mine, he said he could help repair our weapons and armor, so we left everything with him.”

“A blacksmith...” The more Eric fought in this world, the clearer it became that ordinary weapons and gear were consumables.

“I checked. That blacksmith’s skills are pretty good,” Leslie said.

“Then let him work hard these next few days; it’ll save us some effort. Remember to pay him.”

“Understood.”

Leslie nodded, then sighed somewhat. “This town isn’t big, but it has everything—like a blacksmith, a tavern, and a general store with plenty of goods. They even have antidotes and healing potions, things only adventurers usually need... It doesn’t feel like some remote wilderness village.”

Eric was silent.

This was no coincidence.

To be precise, it was a deliberate design.

The blacksmith was for buying basic weapons and repairing gear, the tavern for taking quests, and the general store for supplies. The layout of Vale on this map was designed for the convenience of closed beta players—and it had been preserved in this world.

Eric guessed that some seemingly ordinary villagers were actually highly skilled individuals. In the original world, they had been the initial trainers for various professions, teaching players skills.

But he couldn’t be bothered to seek them out. The village was on the brink of destruction, and they hadn’t stepped up to eliminate the undead. They probably lacked any real sense of responsibility, and dragging them into the team would only cause trouble.

“You can learn more about the situation here,” Eric told Leslie. “In a while, my uncle might come personally to inspect the mine. That way, we can investigate ahead of time and ease his worries.”

Leslie paused. “And what about you, young master?”

Given his abilities, this task seemed better suited to him.

“I have to go to the Holy Capital,” Eric said. “Didn’t I mention? Yela chose me as the successor to the saintess.”

“Uh...”

“Don’t believe me?”

“No, no!” Leslie quickly denied it, regardless of belief. “What about Miss Erin...?”

“About her...” Eric paused. “I want to send her to the imperial capital.”

Leslie was about to ask why but stopped when he noticed two figures approaching the campfire.

Two nuns sat down beside the fire.

“Some villagers have been asking us about the mine,” Alena said.

Eric frowned. “Wasn’t what we said earlier clear enough?”

“They want to know about reopening the mine,” she added.

Eric suddenly understood. “I thought they weren’t interested... Tell them not to worry; my uncle will personally oversee the matter.”

The abbess nodded, saying no more.

The night wind blew, flames flickered.

Eric turned the meat skewer in his hand, feeling it was about done. Just as he was about to take a bite, he remembered the nun had worked hard today. He offered it to her.

Alena looked at him in surprise but couldn’t refuse. She accepted gratefully and then passed it to Sophie beside her.

The young nun beamed, “Thank you!”