Chapter 170. Rice Planting Day (2)
“So this is… the Swamp of Decay, huh.”
I don't like it.
I’ve never seen such a dreadful place in my life.
No, I never even imagined I’d end up in a place like this.
“……”
Elina, the elven diplomat from the Everglow Forest of the Eastern Mountain Range, sighed inwardly. She once again cast her eyes over the desolate, dreary landscape of the swamp.
‘There… aren’t any normal plants…’
All she saw were twisted and corrupted vegetation. Green leaves? Sturdy, healthy stems? Beautiful petals and captivating scents?
None of that existed in this swamp.
Instead, all that could be found were unknown, toxic mosses soaked in decayed scum, and the withered remains of short, blackened trees that looked as if they had died over a hundred years ago.
To Elina, it looked like a massive graveyard.
And that impression wasn’t hers alone. Another person walking alongside her muttered bitterly as well.
“Phew, still, I just can't figure out why the kingdom would establish official diplomatic relations with a place like this. No matter how much I think about it, I just don’t get it.”
This was Malenkov, a spy and diplomat sent by the Magic Federation to this Abandoned Land.
He turned to Elina, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
“And this stench! It clings to your whole body no matter where you go. I really can't guess what the kingdom’s king was thinking. Don’t you agree?”
“That’s exactly why each of us was sent here under separate orders, hmmph!”
Responding to Malenkov’s complaints was a dwarf man, short and broad-shouldered with a rugged build. Unlike Malenkov, he showed no outward sign of discontent as he spoke.
“That’s why it’s hard to work with whiny mages who complain all day, or gloomy, big-eared folk who look like they might slit their own throats at any moment, hmm, hmm! Don’t you think so?”
“…That kind of talk only applies to a dull, thick-skinned dwarf like yourself, Gradus. You have no idea how barren and horrifying this place truly is.”
“Ha! What do you think I don’t know? You people are used to greenhouse forests or safe magic towers, that’s why you can whine like this. But I’m different. I spent my whole life in front of furnaces spitting molten iron every day, so to me, a sight like this is just another landscape, hmmph!”
“Hmph? Is that why the brave diplomat of the Dwarf Alliance, Gradus, was groaning in his sleep last night, calling out his wife’s name?”
“Wha… What?!”
The mage diplomat Malenkov, who had been quietly listening to Gradus's so-called lecture, scoffed as he spoke.
Gradus’s large, stubby nose instantly turned bright red.
“What did you just say?!”
“Now, now. Let’s stop. This really isn’t the time for us to be arguing, is it?”
“He’s right. Honestly, we all know it, don’t we? What it means to be dispatched here.”
“……”
At Elina’s attempt to calm them down and Malenkov’s self-deprecating words, Gradus fell silent.
Truthfully, he knew it too.
That he’d been demoted.
That’s why he had been urgently sent to a godforsaken, barren land with absolutely nothing to see.
As that realization hit him anew, Gradus tightly closed his eyes.
‘Why… why would the leader send me…’
To a place like this?
To be honest, he still didn’t want to believe it.
Even though the leader had repeatedly emphasized that this was an important mission, that they had to uncover the nature of a certain secret exchange taking place between the Abandoned Land and the kingdom…
‘But all I’ve seen since coming here is desolation, and a few pathetic low-class demons barely surviving in it.’
It was disheartening.
He’d still held out a little hope.
He thought perhaps the leader had a deeper reason, one he simply wasn’t aware of.
But the sights and situations he’d taken in while passing through Magrat Fortress—the border between the human kingdom and the Abandoned Land—and coming all the way here, had been nothing but disappointing.
‘There hasn’t been anything noteworthy at all. Leader, this time… you were wrong. Sending me here was a grave mistake.’
No, maybe it wasn’t a mistake.
Maybe the leader had just used this as an excuse to get rid of him.
“……”
Yeah.
So this is what a demotion feels like.
I’ll probably never again lay eyes on the beautiful ores and molten metal of my homeland’s mines.
Because the leader gave the order.
He said to identify any noteworthy circumstances.
‘Which means, until I find something like that, I’m not to return.’
His heart sank even deeper.
And then, it happened.
“Huh? Hello thereaa?”
“……!”
The lively, unfamiliar voice pierced through the edges of his gloomy thoughts, greeting them cheerfully!
…Thunk!
Startled by the sudden voice, Gradus instinctively grabbed the double axe at his waist. Elina jumped back, pulling out the bow strapped to her back, and Malenkov reflexively activated a protective spell.
And right after that, the three of them saw it.
A plant-type demon waving a tree branch in greeting toward them.
“Oh, hello? Are you, by chance, visitors from the human world?”
“……”
“Allow me to introduce myself—I'm a gatekeeping demon of the 2nd Star legion, who's been standing rooted here at the entrance of the Swamp of Decay for 50 days, waiting endlessly to greet visitors!”
“…Gatekeeping… demon?”
“Yep.”
The 2nd Star legionary, who had introduced himself as a gatekeeper, nodded the top of his stalk.
“Now that we’ve officially established diplomatic relations between our Abandoned Land and the human kingdom, we no longer eat visitors or lost outsiders who stumble in here. So you can relax.”
“……………”
“Oh, and the Demon King personally gave me orders. He said, ‘You, wait here and when some unfamiliar folks enter the Swamp of Decay, guide them and bring them in.’ Just like that.”
“The Demon King…?”
“That’s right! Unlike the 4th star and 3rd star legion territories you passed through, the Swamp of Decay is full of traps and poisonous bogs, you see.”
After 50 days of waiting, perhaps the appearance of his first visitors was truly that delightful to him.
The 2nd Star legionary spoke with a bright smile.
“Well, not to brag, but here in the Swamp of Decay, there are poison bogs that can melt your entire body in under 10 seconds if you fall in. So, please, make sure to follow my guidance closely, okay?”
“……………”
“What are you doing? Aren’t you coming in?”
“……………”
Elina, Malenkov, and Gradus.
The three diplomats paused for a moment.
Could this be a terrifying trap, crafted by a cunning demon?
They looked at one another and exchanged glances, then came to a conclusion.
‘Even if it is a trap…’
We have to go in.
We must assess their movements.
That is our mission.
“……………”
Damn it.
The three diplomats, once again lamenting their situation of being dispatched to a place like this, stepped forward. And almost instinctively, they each revealed a bitter, self-mocking expression to one another.
“Haa… I was hoping the deeper parts of the Abandoned Land might be different. Maybe it would get a little better. But a swamp full of poison? Now I’m worried about what else might come next.”
“Exactly. Phew… I thought I’d never see anything more hideous than the test subjects in the magic tower labs.”
“Tsk tsk! That’s the Abandoned Land and the demon race for you.”
A sigh came out naturally.
It was the kind of long-held perception and prejudice toward the Abandoned Land that even they couldn’t help but carry.
But the 2nd Star legionary guiding them was different.
“……………”
I hear it all, their laments.
I feel it all, their prejudice.
And honestly, it makes me emotional.
Maybe that’s why.
Even though I’m just supposed to be a guide, I ended up opening my mouth without thinking, to argue back.
“…You’re all wrong.”
“What?”
The three diplomats flinched.
Only then did the 2nd Star legionary realize what he had just said. But the words were already spoken. And truthfully, he felt a pang of resentment.
The 2nd Star legionary continued his rebuttal.
“I know, of course. I know what people from outside think of us demons and the Abandoned Land. But we’re different now. Under the leadership of the Demon King, we’ve learned the joy of farming and proudly growing our own food. So, please reconsider the comments you just made.”
“……………”
“Also, the three of you seem to be making hasty judgments based solely on what you’ve seen of the swamp so far, but this area is still an undeveloped zone, that’s why it looks like this.”
“Undeveloped… zone, you say?”
“That’s right.”
In response to the elven diplomat Elina’s question, the 2nd Star legionary nodded. And suppressing his still-simmering frustration, he added,
“This swamp is incredibly vast. So this season, we’re developing only about one-tenth of it—the Pit of the Rot—for trial cultivation. Depending on the results, we plan to convert the entire swamp into rice paddies next season. So, I ask that you don’t judge the Abandoned Land based solely on the scenery in front of you.”
“…Ah, yes………”
Elina nodded, awkwardly.
Malenkov and Gradus did the same.
They hadn’t expected a low-ranking demon—a 2nd Star legionary, no less—to speak so seriously and directly. It was a bit disconcerting.
And in another way, rather absurd.
‘They’re… developing this poisonous swamp?’
‘Tsk tsk. What could you expect from a demon race.’
‘Development? Dividing things by seasons? These aren’t the kind of people capable of that.’
Elina had her doubts.
Malenkov quietly held back a sneer.
Gradus shook his head with a skeptical look.
None of the three truly believed the legionary’s words. They thought the same thing: It’s still the Abandoned Land, and they’re still just demons.
They must be trying some crude, pitiful imitation of proper agriculture, and feeling pride in what they think is some grand project.
That must be the limit of these primitive, impoverished demons.
They followed the legionary’s guidance, and finally arrived near the Pit of the Rot.
“Pyoong-ja-ak!”
“Gi-woo-on!”
“Jjan-jja-ra-jjan-jja!”
“…………!”
A booming work song rang out and struck their eardrums.
And then, what entered the diplomats’ eyes—
…Huuuk!
A clear, open space with gray mist lifted away.
Neatly squared rice paddies and reservoirs.
All bathed in warm sunlight.
Under that sunlight, demons of the farming corps toiling with sweat as they planted rice, in a scene grand, majestic, and utterly spectacular.
And at the center of it all, directing everything—Kim Jangcheol—threw a sharp glance at the unexpected visitors.
Straight toward the three diplomats!
Eyes gleaming like polished stones!
His gaze, dyed bloody red!
“……!”
Flinch!
The moment they met the viciously bloodshot, sacredly inflamed eyes of the Demon King—who suffered from severe dry eye—the diplomats’ bladders, as if repenting for their prejudice, cried out “we’re done for,” and completely gave way.
This one is so exciting! I'm waiting for further interaction between Aged Kimchi and Kim Jangcheol!
I really enjoy reading this, and I adore the loyalty Credos' people held to him!