Anyway, the chimera keeps showing us amazing things.

The limits of its potential seem unfathomable.

Originally, my character was the one with high potential, but I felt good about this nonetheless.

Unlike the warm atmosphere on our side.

Suddenly, a loud voice erupted from among the dwarves mining the bone steel.

"Stop talking nonsense!"

It was Manjin shouting at Dunkel.

They didn’t seem to be on good terms, but why did he suddenly lose his temper at Dunkel when they had been coolly indifferent before?

"It’s not nonsense."

"Not nonsense? It is nonsense. What do you mean the dwarf society can’t go on like this?"

They suddenly started speaking informally to each other.

Were they always on such terms?

Despite Manjin’s agitated expression, Dunkel calmly refuted.

"It can’t go on like this. We’ve completely stopped trading and keep digging the ground. Even now, the mine lord is setting aside other matters and in the deep levels..."

"Keep digging the ground, you say? Keep digging the ground?"

"Why are you nitpicking on one phrase?"

"Are you looking down on miners’ work?"

"You know that’s not what I meant."

Dunkel and Manjin argued.

The young dwarves watched their fight with bewilderment.

Dunkel spoke calmly.

"In the mines, miners’ work is the most important. We are a race that refines ore and makes things with it. But no matter how much we make, what’s the use if it’s not used? We need to start trading again and introduce dwarf goods to the world."

"That’s for the elders to decide."

"Those elders are doing nothing in the deep levels."

"Sigh... Ah, Brother Dunkel!"

The dwarves flinched at the word ’brother’.

Even I couldn’t help but be surprised.

Smooth-faced Dunkel and bushy-bearded Manjin.

I naturally thought Manjin was much older, but was it the opposite?

"Do you know why you’ve been ostracized since you were young? Do you know why no one likes you?"

"..."

From my perspective, it seems like Manjin is overreacting.

There must be a complex and subtle history between these two.

"You think it’s because you don’t have hair, because you don’t have a beard? No. It’s because you keep talking nonsense without knowing your place. Because you keep making pretty-sounding but infuriating comments while not actually doing the work of even one person. That’s why everyone around you dislikes you." Ꞧа𐌽ố₿ƐⱾ

"Manjin."

"If you didn’t like that, you should have just kept holding the pickaxe. What’s all this about learning trade skills, studying medicine, studying management. And now you’re just cleaning up pig dung!"

Manjin seemed to get angrier as he spoke.

But seeing him say such things, it seems they weren’t always on such bad terms.

Despite being insulted, Dunkel didn’t get angry.

He just smiled bitterly, looking a bit troubled.

"...Someone has to do it."

"..."

"Raising pigs, even cleaning up their dung. Someone has to do it for the mine to keep running."

Dunkel is right.

That’s why it’s meaningless to discriminate between jobs.

In the midst of the chilly atmosphere.

A sudden event occurred.

Swish.

The seedling chimera curled its leaves.

It looked as if it was hiding from something.

’What’s wrong, chimera?’

Had it detected a threat?

The "Survival Instinct" I possessed didn’t particularly warn me of anything.

But that doesn’t mean we can relax.

Even if it’s not a threat to my life, it might be a threat to others.

And indeed, it was.

Babababam!

It’s a similar situation to earlier.

The wall bulged out, and then a monster’s bright red head popped out.

It was another blood mole.

On its slippery head were button-like eyes that had almost atrophied, and saliva dripped from between its sharp teeth that had no lips.

"Huaaap!"

One dwarf quickly swung his pickaxe.

The pickaxe struck the creature’s face with a thud, and blood sprayed.

"That’s do- Urk!"

But it was too early to feel relieved.

This time, it wasn’t just one.

Blood moles kept popping out from the ceiling and walls one after another.

One blood mole that had just emerged from the wall clung to the body of a dwarf holding a pickaxe.

"Aaaaargh!"

The blood mole tried to burrow into the dwarf’s stomach using its sharp teeth and claws.

That bastard, that was my tactic.

"Raise the lanterns!"

Manjin commanded the dwarves in the sudden crisis.

Blood moles dislike bright light.

They usually retreat when oil lanterns are thrust at them.

At first, it seemed to be effective.

But there was something the dwarves didn’t know.

That monsters can learn too.

"Tidik, kididik."

That strange cry came from a blood mole with unusually dark skin.

When that sound echoed, the retreating blood moles instead charged at the lanterns.

Clang.

They bit into the oil lamps without hesitation.

The oil lamps were designed to extinguish immediately if the glass broke, to prevent fires.

That design actually made the situation worse.

The creatures charged at the lanterns without fear, and in an instant, all the lanterns went out.

Pitch-black darkness descended on the tunnel.

Darkness where you couldn’t see an inch in front of you.

And numerous blood moles.

’Oh no.’

The worst situation that miners fear had arrived.

==

In the darkness.

"Huddle together! Turn on the emergency lights. Matches, anything!"

Manjin shouted.

He shouldn’t show any signs of fear.

As the leader, he needs to remain calm, doesn’t he?

"Aaaaargh."

"Kyaaaah!"

But it was impossible to control the situation.

Even Manjin wanted to start swinging his pickaxe right away.

Splat, a hot liquid splashed on his face.

At the same time, he smelled the scent of iron.

It was blood. Probably from the young men following him.

"No, no..."

Towards Manjin’s panicked neck.

A blood mole leaped from the darkness.

And then.

Peeeng-!

A beam of light pierced through the darkness and the blood mole.

For a moment, he thought it was an illusion, but.

Peeeng-

Another beam of light shot out from the darkness.

This time, there was no mistaking it.

It was a snake.

The snake was putting on a light show in the darkness.

And then.

Whoosh, whoosh!

Flames bloomed in mid-air, illuminating the surroundings.

It must have been magic cast by the snake.

More than ten blood moles had appeared in this tunnel.

They jumped into the fireballs just as they had broken the lanterns, but this time their bodies only caught fire.

"Pi-pick..."

Manjin struggled to steady his voice.

"Pickaxes up! Kill them all!"

He swung his pickaxe with all his might.

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