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Chapter 190 – Day 21 of Management Life
Before dawn broke, Hel led me up the shell of the “Sealed Bone.”
Besides coral and large shells, lichen grew on the shell, which prevented it from becoming slippery.
Near the top, there were holes scattered about, perhaps for light, but the path continued.
“I’m sleepy, though…”
“Just deal with it.”
I grumbled about being woken up so abruptly, but Hel’s reply was curt.
At the top of the shell, massive coral easily three times my height grew over a buried stone monument. Though weathered in places, the writing was unreadable, the round, doughnut-shaped hollow remained perfectly preserved.
“Huh? A dungeon?”
I looked at Hel, who nodded vigorously.
“There shouldn’t be any traps. If they were hostile, they would have attacked us while we slept, right?”
“True. Wait… So, who called you, Hel?”
I turned the doughnut-shaped dungeon key as I said this.
“No, I mean the spirit of the Master Turtle. The thought form.”
Knowing that I dislike spirits, Hel wore a wicked smile.
“…Huh!?”
The dungeon had already opened.
Hel and I were sucked in and found ourselves inside before we knew it.
In a dim space as large as the sealed bone chamber, seven turtles, each as big as a person, floated in midair, eating jellyfish.
The turtles were mostly white, and the black coral background was visible through them. Though significantly smaller, they seemed to be the thought forms of the Master Turtles.
They moved like a sparkling, shimmering water surface when they looked up. Light reflected off the floor, creating a fantastical scene. Perhaps because I had dived into too many dungeons, though, I wasn’t particularly impressed.
“Did you call?”
When I called out, the turtles stopped eating and swam toward us.
“Oh! So this is the new master of Yggdrasil?”
One of the turtles began to speak.
“No, that’s not it. Yggdrasil perished. Its ruins became a demonic land, and I’m the lord of that land now.”
“I see. So our homeland has perished?”
“What about the brothers who travel through time?”
“Right! There was a brother who decided to travel through time.”
“Are they still traveling?”
“They travel every three months. It seems they’re relocating entire cities. But this brother lost his head.”
“What!?”
“His head!?”
“Why?”
“What happened?”
All the master turtles started talking at once. I felt cold sweat run down my spine. Even turtle spirits can be terrifying. Still, as the lord of the demonic land, I had to speak.
I forced myself to think that I was just talking to ordinary turtles.
“I heard it’s because people couldn’t survive the food shortage. The people being protected by that brother begged him to stop. How can he be stopped?”
Without a head, he must be moving on without consciousness.
“Then he’ll stop on his own. It’s strange that he’s still moving, isn’t it?”
“It is strange, but he’s walked quite a distance. This disaster occurs once every three months and is causing quite a problem.”
“It’s a project started by the powerful in Midgard. Even we can’t do anything about it.”
“How many people live in the ruins of Yggdrasil now?”
The master turtles are good listeners and seem quite talkative. Thinking about that makes the fear feel half as bad.
“Living? Including those in the Genetic Research Institute’s dungeon, maybe a little over 300. Some have been completely transformed into monsters, so the actual number is less. Then there are golems and skeletons, too. Even I, the lord, can’t keep track anymore.”
“If we include those living on our backs, it’s about that many.”
“No, about a hundred humans live on each of our backs, so there should be over seven hundred.”
“There are many on my back.
“There are few on mine.”
“Does it matter how many live on our backs?”
“It means we can develop that much.”
Apparently, there are about 1,000 descendants of the Magic Sealing Clan living on the Master Turtle’s back.
“So, what’s this about?”
“It’s about what to do since our brothers keep moving even after their heads are cut off.”
“Let the inhabitants decide.”
“But we can’t contact the people living in Midgard…”
“There’s no need to heed the words of rulers from a thousand years ago. Listen to those who live now. We move along magical energy. Is there a magical energy pool at the destination?”
Hearing that, I remembered the “Great Hole” of the Cliff Garuda.
“Monuments as large as our bodies become islands or mountains in themselves. If we become Rot Gods, the entire surrounding area will be overrun by the Corroded for hundreds of years.”
Indeed, when a great beast like the Master Turtle dies, its entrails and flesh rot away.
“When the ‘Sealed Bone’ first died, sea monsters and flying beasts fought over its flesh.
“But it all became our blood and flesh.”
The Master Turtles laughed.
“The monsters feasting on the flesh gradually grow smaller until finally, plants begin to grow. That is the way of nature.”
So, did the floating plants come seeking the rotten flesh of the “Sealed Bone”?
“Then, should we place the Master Turtle traveling through time in a magic pool in that demonic land?”
“If our brother becomes a disaster that torments the people, then so be it.”
“If we transport it via the Floating Island, it should be manageable.”
“There are no floating islands large enough to carry it in the demonic land anymore. Since it travels through time, there’s only one day. Besides, another nation has formed in the magic pool…”
I thought putting the giant magical beast in the magic pool would solve two problems, but problems keep piling up, from processing the rotten flesh to negotiating with the Cliff Garuda to the lack of transportation technology.
“My apologies. Our creators, the Yggdrasil people…”
“I heard a lord had emerged in the ruins of Yggdrasil, so I came to see if there was any trouble. Seems I was right.”
“No, it’s just good to see the goal.”
Or rather, nothing else is good.
“Then let the people of the Turtle Archipelago also belong to your ‘demonic land.'”
“Oh, that’s good. It’s been a thousand years since the evacuation. It’s about time we expanded into the Southwest Islands.”
Honestly, we’re sick and tired of this fog. Moving while we still have the strength is a good idea.”
“While we depended on our ‘Sealed Bones,’ the world must have changed.”
“So, can we consider our role as a refuge island finished? Then a journey to the edge of the world isn’t so bad.”
“We live ten thousand years, after all. There are limits to staying in the same place forever.”
“We’ll be useful, too. Lord of the demonic land.”
All seven heads began speaking at once. It seemed the Turtle Archipelago would belong to the demonic land.
“Wait, wait, wait! Why is this happening!?”
This meant that the 1,000 members of the Sealing Clan from the Turtle Archipelago had joined the demonic land. What a bunch of self-serving turtles!
“You should ask the tower masters on the island about such important matters. Besides, I won’t do anything as a lord! Hey!”
Turning around, Hel smiled.
“Honorable Master Turtles, I am the Lord’s attendant.”
Hel spoke up.
“This one is unfit to be a lord. However, he will accomplish something. It may not be what you expect. Is that acceptable?”
Hel bowed respectfully and stepped forward before the Master Turtles.
“Of course, we understand that.”
“A lord who smells so little of power is rare indeed.”
He seems to value freedom over domination.
He’ll likely pursue something beyond the dragonfolk.”
“Our lifespans are long. We value change.”
“Let subordinates handle governance.”
“Advance the era. Beyond the fallen nation.”
I don’t know what they know about me, but they seem to trust me unconditionally.
“Let me be clear from the outset: I have no intention of meeting your expectations. I’ll betray you and cover it up with a half-assed lie.”
“You’re not that skilled, are you?”
“Exactly. He’s a man who wears honesty like a suit.”
Hel answered the Master Turtle’s suspicion.
“Support him well, Attendants.”
“Understood.”
In the end, Hel had agreed.
“Well, dawn is approaching…”
“Come again. Makyo.”
Before I knew it, my feet lifted on their own, and I was flung outside the dungeon.
The morning sun rose through the coral.
Hel emerged later from the entrance of the stone monument.
“Here. I was told to give this to you.”
She handed me a gold coin engraved with a turtle shell.
“What is this?”
The reverse side bore a circle with a “1” inside.
“Currency, I suppose.”
“A fee for labor?”
“No, not that. Currency is like a circulating promise. Managing a territory must be vast and difficult. It’s a message telling us to build a structure.”
“What kind of structure?”
“A structure of human connections? Monsters don’t use currency.”
“Even in the demonic land, we don’t use it at all.”
I didn’t fully understand, but for now, I tucked it into a leather pouch along with the dungeon egg.
I returned to my bed and dozed off. Early in the morning, old men and women, claiming to be shamans or priests, woke up and started making a fuss. They said things like, “We’ve heard the divine message!”
“Makyo-dono, is it true that the Turtle Archipelago belongs to the demonic land?”
The Minotaur tore off the cloth door and asked me while I was sleeping.
“I just spoke with the Master Turtles. The decision is yours to make, of course. Please do not rely on me to take any direct action. Since our meeting, I have been considering building a lighthouse, at least for the port where the skeletons are located. I believe it would be better not to be needlessly hostile. Don’t you agree?”
For some reason, I used casual speech with the Master Turtles, but formal speech with the Tower Master. Probably the difference between beasts and humans.
“Well, we can’t even leave the mist in the first place…”
“We’ll figure something out for that, too, like attaching flamethrowers to wyverns. If we can do it, the people of the Turtle Archipelago should be able to, too. Anyway, there’s a vast land to the east. Come without fear. I’m sleep-deprived. Can I get a little more rest?”
“My apologies.”
Speaking as if I were babbling, the Minotaur wandered off.
After sleeping in, I stirred around noon to find the “Sealed Bone” in a festive uproar.
Apparently, the decision for the Turtle Archipelago to become part of the demonic land was final, and a dragon-riding squad called the Trade Division was being formed.
Magic tool makers gathered to discuss ways to counter troublesome floating plants and sharks.
“Wh-wwhat happened? Is this a festival extension?”
Sylvia asked when she woke up. If anyone had the makings of a lord, it would be Sylvia or Chel.
“It looks busy, so maybe we should head back. We have the magic tool to measure underground magic power, right?”
“Yeah, no problem. We’ve got it.”
Hel showed us the magic gauge.
“Kahiman, do you have anything else to do?”
“Body manipulation training? I think I can do that in the demonic land, too.”
Kahiman thought for a moment before answering.
After saying goodbye to the old Minotaur man, we decided to return to the mainland of the demonic land.
The giant owl we’d brought along was being looked after by the Dragon Riders and seemed able to fly without issue.
“Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Sure thing. Come back again sometime, Lord.”
“This time it was just a greeting, but next time we’ll be negotiating as well. We look forward to working with you.”
“Ah, you’re welcome. No, rather, we look forward to working with you from now on. It’s getting hard to tell who’s the boss anymore.”
The old Minotaur chuckled. Since he was my master regarding physical control, I was fine with being treated as his student.
“Well, let’s head back.”
The door lifted off the ground. As we moved away from the “Sealed Bone,” the fog grew thicker.
Gyaa!
A familiar monster cry echoed through the air, resonating deep in my gut.
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