After a disastrous attempt at exploration, both the players counting down to revival and those lucky enough to survive who were now chopping trees realized something: the river around the ancient castle did not seem to be terrain meant to restrict them-
It was actually terrain meant to protect new players.
In that case, perhaps they needed to explore in a different direction.
The areas north and east of the castle were both quite expansive, and various monsters they could handle appeared there from time to time. Grinding monsters and leveling up here first seemed like a good idea too.
While everyone planned their next steps, dozens of miles away, Ed's plan was also progressing steadily-
"Your Excellency, are we really going in?"
The young Tree Worship Church cleric's brain did not seem to have completely atrophied yet. Looking at the dark cave before him, he instinctively felt a trace of fear.
The middle-aged tax collector beside him gave his shoulder a hard slap and said in feigned reproach:
"His Excellency has his own arrangements. It isn't our place to speak."
"Yes, yes..."
The young cleric lowered his head sheepishly. The bishop leading the way paid it no mind-being questioned was perfectly normal for someone of his standing.
But this was no longer his diocese, and he had very limited time to act.
So he turned and said sternly:
"The apostate must be inside the cave. This is our best chance to make up for our mistake."
With that, he swung his right hand hard, and everything below his wrist transformed into a longsword.
Although this longsword was made of wood, its edge was every bit as sharp as ordinary refined steel, and it even possessed some ability to repair itself.
Seeing that the bishop had made up his mind, the clerics and tax collector made similar movements, assuming combat stances.
They had no idea what the escaped test subject had to do with clerics like them who were not responsible for security, but since the boss had said so...
After tying up their horses, they cautiously slipped into the dark cave.
As clergy of the Tree Worship Church, they did not like darkness, but they did possess some night vision, a gift from certain plants capable of producing their own light.
The mountain the clerics had entered was rather strange. Almost no plants could be found on it, and its bare surface was nothing but rock. The path beneath their feet bore clear marks of artificial chiseling, yet it seemed somewhat different from a mine tunnel.
Unfortunately, civilization had existed in name only since the demonic tide, and none of those present were even over fifty. Naturally, no one knew what a real mine tunnel actually looked like.
The group advanced through the silent cave. There were no forks anywhere, and, naturally, they did not find the apostate.
After winding around bend after bend, the bishop and his companions reached the end of the cave.
Yes, the end.
Although the space was as roomy as a reception hall, there truly was no path ahead.
The atmosphere immediately grew awkward. Something called an idealized image seemed to be shattering in the young cleric's mind.
Perhaps sufficiently confident in his own judgment, or perhaps unwilling to lose face before his subordinates, the bishop held his longsword across his body and ordered:
"The apostate is right here. Spread out and search for a mechanism."
They obeyed and scattered, beginning to tap at the rock walls with the longswords their palms had transformed into.
Meanwhile, a new visitor had arrived at the cave's outermost entrance: the messenger sent by the chief of Dragonborn Village.
The draconic features on his body were exceptionally pronounced at this moment, which was also why he could keep up with the clerics on just two legs.
Naturally, he recognized where those horses came from, and naturally, he felt very curious-
What were these Tree Worship Church idiots doing at a dragon's dwelling?
But... who cared? Who told you to provoke our village?
The young messenger gave it no further thought and began executing the missionaries' horses one by one.
"Your Excellency, I found it!"
Deep inside the cave, the young cleric shouted excitedly, drawing the others' attention.
The bishop followed his voice over, and the young cleric carefully yielded center stage.
With his night vision, the bishop made out the words carved into the rock wall:
[Offer flesh and blood, and behold our lord]
Below them stood a small altar.
The bishop slashed the words "our lord" to pieces with his sword, then looked at the tax collector beside him and gave him a meaningful glance.
The tax collector inwardly groaned, stepped forward, and pressed his untransformed left hand onto the center of the altar.
Squelch!
A piercing agony struck, and a bloody hole appeared in the center of the tax collector's palm.
Nourished by the flesh and blood, the altar began to turn slowly, soon revealing a concealed door behind it.
By now, the bishop also realized that whatever lay inside might not be that apostate, but the pride of a superior drove him onward.
None of them had expected such a vast space beyond the narrow passage. The enormous expanse before them made them realize that this mountain had been almost completely hollowed out.
A beam of light entered through a cave opening at the very top, then reflected back and forth across an ocean of gold coins, illuminating the entire cavern.
The Tree Worship Church clerics had never seen so many gold coins. Even though they had long since sworn to offer their souls to the World Tree, their breathing could not help growing heavy.
As their superior, the bishop still maintained a fair degree of composure, but the tax collector and young clerics had already stepped forward to inspect the gold coins scattered on the ground.
Those glittering little things looked so adorable now. They varied in size and design, some bearing strings of stars on their surfaces, others sword-and-shield emblems.
The young cleric seemed not to have fully freed himself from worldly concerns. After inspecting a few loose coins, he strode forward to the foot of the pile and scooped up a great handful with both hands!
As for the wooden sword originally meant for defense, it had long since turned back into a palm, and was even showing signs of turning into a box.
The bishop was about to reprimand the newcomer when he suddenly felt scared out of his wits. A fierce killing intent brought a chill that struck straight into his soul.
His body stiffened, and he looked toward the young cleric, only to see an eye the very same color as gold revealed beneath the pile of coins he had scooped up.
That golden eye reflected the ecstatic young cleric and the panicked bishop, while the pitch-black pupil at the center of its iris slowly narrowed into a vertical slit.
A dragon!
A genuine, living dragon!
The bishop had never imagined that such a terrifying creature existed just a dozen or so miles from his diocese. According to the law of assimilation by the demonic tide, a creature this powerful should either have been eroded to death by the demonic tide or be cowering in a domain with independent rules. How could it possibly appear in a little place like this on the edge of the continent?
The higher-ups of the Tree Worship Church clearly knew nothing about this either. Otherwise, why would they have put a low-ranking bishop like him in charge of this diocese?