Chapter 126 – Home Alone.

“…”

“So, this is also how humanoids live? Interesting…”

“ ( ¬ _ ¬ ) “

The streets of Ferndale were just as Rusty had expected: filthy, chaotic, and filled with the smell of excrement. Gleam, who was sitting on his shoulder, did not look too happy about the smell, and once the wind picked up, it was hard to avoid. For some reason, the people here did not mind it that much. They might have developed some kind of smell resistance or suppression skills that helped them get through the day if they had lived here long enough.

The further he moved away from his lair, the more eyes followed him, gauging whether he was an easy target. However, his above-average size, armored body, and the presence of Gleam at his side dissuaded any attempts at interference. Even the most desperate of cutthroats knew better than to test their luck on someone who looked like a seasoned adventurer.

“Are we really going to live in this… vile hole? I’ve seen corruption demon pits that were cleaner than this.”

Aburdon let out a sigh of indignation as he commented on the state of the place. Now that they no longer had to worry about securing a place to stay, they could take a good look around, and it was not pretty. Alexander noticed that Rusty was unusually quiet, so he tried to lighten the mood.

“We don’t really have much of a choice. It’s this or living out in the wilds in some random cave.”

“I like living in caves!”

Rusty replied enthusiastically. As a monster born in a dungeon crypt filled with poison, undead, and dirt, he found this city much cleaner in comparison. Besides, there were plenty of things he could exchange for money, which was the main reason he had decided to pretend to be human.

“We finally have a place to buy food for Gleam too… we just need to make more money.”

“( >﹏< )”

“You’re not a burden, Gleam. You’re my friend, and it’s not like you’re not helping.”

“(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)”

After a small pep talk between the two monsters, they headed toward the nearby gate leading out of Ferndale. There was supposed to be a dungeon not too far from the settlement, but it was still a two- to three-hour journey away. He wasn’t sure what to expect to see there but he had already had Aburdon look through a map provided by the Adventurer’s guild.

“Let’s head out then!”

There was still a lot of work to do. He needed to reach the dungeon to level up and achieve D rank. Then, he would use the resources gathered from his dives to restore his new lair. The children were there for now, but he did not expect them to fix it up too much. Their bodies were small and weak, and without classes, they could not do much.

After that, he would finally open his workshop and start selling some of his useless gear. From what he had seen in this city, there were not many blacksmiths. The best one was near the adventurer’s guild, and he always seemed busy. The weapons and armor they sold were fairly standard, so if Rusty could figure out how to enchant weaponry, he might be able to carve out a niche for himself.

‘For that, I need mana skills. I hope this dungeon has some magical creatures. If not, maybe I’ll get it from one of the adventurers inside…’

He was still missing one of the most important skills—the ability to manipulate mana. Only with that skill would he be able to unlock enchantments that could make his body much stronger. The weapon he had forged within the soul forge was starting to run out of power, and he had no way to restore it.

“Let’s go, Gleam.”

“(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)”

Rusty and Gleam made their way through the slums, heading toward the city gates. As they passed, many eyes followed them, but no one dared to approach. There were a few beggars scattered around, which made Rusty wonder about the previous policy he had heard of and the man who had been cast out. It seemed there was a time limit for people who didn’t contribute, but as an adventurer, he appeared to be exempt as long as he continued to work.

The sun had barely risen when they reached the outer gate of Ferndale. Unlike the central district, which had imposing stone walls and trained guards, the slums’ entrance was barely guarded. Two men in mismatched armor leaned against wooden posts, lazily watching those who came and went. Their spears were dull, and their expressions vacant,either due to exhaustion or sheer disinterest. One of the guards straightened up as Rusty approached, his eyes narrowing.

“Adventurer?”

“Yes.”

The guard squinted at him, then at Gleam, who was still perched on his shoulder, rubbing her tiny arms together.

“Heading to the dungeon?”

“Yes.”

The guard sighed and waved him through.

“Your funeral.”

Rusty did not respond and walked past them, stepping onto the dirt road that stretched toward the unknown. Alexander and Aburdon, who had remained quiet, eventually spoke up as they passed through the checkpoint.

“If this… ‘City’ Ever gets attacked, our little ruin of a ‘home’ will probably be destroyed…”

“Aburdon is right. This side of the settlement is under-defended. It’s as if they want the monsters to spread through the slums. I don’t like this. Are they doing it on purpose, or do they just not care?”

There were walls within the city, and the central district, where the round noble was supposed to be, was the best defended. However, other districts had their own barricades and defenses, while the slums had little to none.

“No need for us to worry about that now, first I need to visit that dungeon.”

Rusty wasn’t sure what Alexander was trying to imply, but he didn’t think his new lair was in any danger, at least not at the moment. There was nothing valuable inside, and even if some pesky orcs showed up, he could simply lock himself in the basement and set a trap for any intruder foolish enough to invade his territory. Soon he was walking with wide strides, looking around to see what he might discover in the area.

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The road ahead was uneven, flanked by patches of dry grass and the occasional twisted tree. Few people traveled this way alone, but every so often, Rusty passed a group of adventurers heading in the same direction. Some eyed him with mild curiosity, likely wondering why he was traveling alone with a strange bug on his shoulder. Others ignored him entirely, focused on their own tasks.

After about an hour of walking, he came across a crossroads and a lone sign pointing toward the dungeon. For a moment, he wondered where the other path led, as he could only see tall mountains in the distance. It was probably where the barbarian tribes lived, but if he followed this road, would he eventually reach one of their cities? Did barbarians even build cities like other humanoids did? He was not sure. From all the tales he had heard, many people believed these tribes were little different from monsters themselves.

An hour and a half later, the dungeon entrance started coming into view and it was much different than the one he came from. A massive, gaping hole in the ground, surrounded by cracked stone pillars that jutted out like broken teeth. The air around it felt heavy, charged with magic. A wooden outpost stood nearby, manned by a handful of adventurers and guild workers who managed the flow of people in and out. A crude wooden board was in front of it, and it had the dungeon’s name on it: ‘Ferndale Sunken Mine.’

“Sunken? Will there be water inside there?”

Rusty hadn’t seen any flooding yet, but water was one of the elements that could seep into his metallic frame and cause problems. He wasn’t waterproof, nor had he designed his other bodies to be resistant either. Even if they were completely sealed, he would still struggle to walk without using his weight-increasing skill.

“There might be. I think I’ve heard about this place before”