“Let’s go. It looks like there’s nothing left here.”
Rosie looked around the laboratory, which had been turned completely upside down.
And "completely upside down" was by no means an exaggeration.
She and the dwarf had searched the research center from top to bottom.
Unfortunately, they hadn't found anything else useful besides those three gene potions.
Or rather, anything useful to them.
Rosie had originally planned to smash all the remaining potion bottles so the Count's people wouldn't get them.
But on second thought, those potions were all locked in cabinets that couldn't be opened without the combinations. They would serve as a perfect nuisance for them.
Besides, it was ancient knowledge after all; destroying it would be a waste.
The dwarf agreed with her on this point.
“Alright, let's go then.” The dwarf hoisted his axe onto his shoulder.
The two returned to the upper floor of the research center the way they came, then slid down the vines.
The dwarf built another fire in front of the ruins, and they rested by the warmth for a few hours.
Once they were rested, they set off again, exploring deeper into the ruins.
The swamp was still the same swamp.
With every step uneven, their boots sank deep into the mud, requiring a hard pull before they could take another step.
They avoided the larger pools of water, skirting along the edges where the water was shallow and the grass was short.
The dwarf held a walking stick to test the path ahead, and they made their way forward with extreme caution.
But trouble always had a way of finding them.
A crocodile suddenly lunged out from the tall grass.
The dwarf was looking down at where to step.
By the time he raised his head, a gaping maw full of teeth was already right in front of his face.
He leapt backward in a panic, but his foot slipped, and he tumbled backward into a patch of brown mire.
With a loud splat, mud splashed high into the air.
Rosie's sword left its scabbard almost at the exact same moment. She thrust it deep into the crocodile's eye socket and gave it a violent twist.
The crocodile thrashed violently, its tail whipping up a wave of mud, before it finally went still.
“Hey, are you alright?”
Rosie flicked the blood off her blade, sheathed it, and turned to look at the dwarf in the mud pit.
“I wasn't scared! I just slipped...”
The dwarf stubbornly insisted as he scrambled out of the mud, but he suddenly froze mid-sentence.
“Uh... something feels a bit off...”
Rosie saw what was wrong immediately.
Leeches.
The ugly mollusks had crawled all over the dwarf's arms and neck. They clung to his skin, their bloated bodies swelling slightly as they gorged on his blood.
“Don't move.”
Rosie stepped forward quickly, drew her dagger, and pried the leeches off him one by one, throwing them to the ground and crushing them under her boot.
The dwarf gritted his teeth and stood perfectly still, letting her handle it.
By the time the last leech was removed, the dwarf's complexion had taken a turn for the worse.
“My head...” he muttered weakly, “is a bit dizzy...”
Before Rosie could even reply, the dwarf's body listed to the side and he collapsed.
“Hey! Are you okay?!”
Rosie caught him in a flash and slapped his cheek.
There was no response. His chest still rose and fell slightly, but his face had already turned a sickly shade of blue-green.
Poison?!
Those leeches were venomous.
“Holy Light!”
Adopting a "might as well try" attitude, Rosie cast a Holy Light spell on the dwarf.
As the golden light faded, the bite marks left by the leeches had healed, but the dwarf remained unconscious.
“Damned bugs!”
Rosie cursed.
She looked at the dwarf, then at the surrounding swamp.
Without hesitation, she scooped up the dwarf along with his axe, picked up the walking stick, and continued shuffling forward.
She slowed her pace, becoming even more careful and cautious.
Maintaining a steady rhythm, she tested every step as she slowly made her way forward.
Fortunately, the buildings in this area weren't scattered like the isolated research center they had visited earlier.
After crossing a low-lying area, she reached the outskirts of a massive architectural complex.
The scale here was several times larger, with one structure connected to another, forming a spectacular complex.
Although the pathways were overgrown with weeds, the outlines of the stone roads remained clear, allowing her to move forward without needing to test the ground anymore.
Rosie quickened her pace along the road.
Choosing a building on higher ground, she quickly climbed the steps and laid the dwarf flat on the relatively dry stone floor.
The dwarf's face had turned from blue-green to a deathly gray, his lips were purple, and his breathing was growing shallower by the second.
Rosie crouched beside him, watching the faint rise and fall of his chest as her mind raced for a solution.
She didn't recognize any detoxifying herbs.
Holy Light could heal physical wounds, but it couldn't neutralize poison.
She looked down at herself.
Poison Resistance.
She now possessed an immense resistance to toxins.
In that case, she would have to treat a dead horse as if it were still alive—desperate times called for desperate measures.
Rosie drew her dagger and sliced a cut across her left hand.
Beads of blood welled up from the wound.
She brought her hand to the dwarf's mouth, letting the dark red liquid trickle through the seam of his lips.
Seconds ticked by.
Rosie sat beside the dwarf, her gaze fixed on his face, completely motionless.
Then, the dwarf's lips twitched.
His pale gray complexion slowly began to regain its normal color.
Rosie let out a sigh of relief. Her desperate gamble had paid off.
“Holy Light!”
After healing the wound on her hand, she stood up, bent down to pick up the dwarf's axe, and walked to the side of the building to chop a pile of dry vines.
Carrying the dry vines back inside, she used a flint to start a fire.
The orange-red flames rose, dispelling some of the damp chill in the air.
She then took out her waterskin and poured a few gulps of water down the dwarf's throat. He sputtered and coughed a few times before his eyelids finally fluttered open.
“...Huh?” The dwarf turned his head dizzily and recognized Rosie. “What happened to me?”
“You were poisoned,” Rosie said, pulling the waterskin back. “Fortunately, you're tough enough to survive.”
“Did you carry me here?”
The dwarf looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings.
Rosie nodded. “Who else? It's not like the swamp delivered you here.”
The dwarf grinned. “Thanks, lass.”
“Don't mention it.” Rosie bent down and held the axe out to him. “Your axe.”
The dwarf reached out with both hands to take it, stroking the handle a few times. “Ha, my old friend... you're still here.”
Rosie rummaged through her backpack and pulled out a piece of dried meat. Just as she was about to hand it to the dwarf, she noticed that its surface was covered in grayish-green mold.
She searched some more, then dumped out all the dried meat from her bag.
“It's all moldy. I'll go find us some food. You rest here,” Rosie said as she stood up.
The dwarf nodded and cautioned, “Be careful.”
Rosie nodded and turned to walk out of the building.
Her footsteps gradually faded down the overgrown stone pathway.
Ten minutes later, she returned, dragging a "crab"—or rather, a crab-like creature.
The creature had four legs, each ending in a sharp claw, a pair of massive pincers, and a thick, rounded shell covering its back.
It looked like a giant crab with a turtle's shell.
“What in the world is that?” the dwarf asked curiously.
“No idea. It crawled out from the side of the road to attack me, so I killed it,” Rosie said.
“This thing's shell is just as hard as the scorpions we ran into before. I had to dodge behind it and flip it upside down to finish it off.”
The dwarf touched its large pincers. “With pincers this size and that full-body carapace, it really isn't something an ordinary person could handle.”
“Lend me your axe for a moment,” Rosie said, holding out her hand.
The dwarf handed the axe to her.
Rosie took the axe, aimed at the joint of the giant crab's pincer, and swung down.
With a sharp crack, the pincer severed at the joint.
She treated the other pincer the same way, then threw both massive pincers directly into the fire.
Then she flipped the creature over, used the axe blade to cut a circle along the edge of its shell, scooped out the meat inside, and chopped off its four legs, setting them aside.
After emptying the interior, she was left with a completely hollow, intact shell.
The dwarf watched from the side, finding the scene increasingly familiar. “Are you... making another shield?”
“Of course not,” Rosie said with a smile, shaking her head. “This thing is a natural pot. I'm getting tired of eating roasted meat every day; let's change things up a bit.”
The dwarf's eyes lit up, and he let out a hearty laugh. “You really know how to make do, lass!”
Rosie threw the extracted crab meat and the four legs into the crab-shell "pot."
Then, carrying the pot, she ran down to a relatively clear pool of water below the building.
After confirming there was no danger, she squatted down, gave it a quick rinse, filled it with water, and carried it back.
She found some stones to prop up the crab shell, added more dry vines underneath, and began to boil crab soup.
As the water began to steam, a faint, savory aroma drifted from the crab pot.
Smelling such a scent in the damp, cold swamp made them both relax instantly.
A moment later, the pincers were roasted first.
The fire had baked the shells into a beautiful orange-red.
Rosie cracked open one of the pincer shells with the back of the axe. With a click, the steaming, tender white crab meat inside was revealed.
“You're the patient, you eat first.”
The dwarf didn't stand on ceremony either. Ignoring the heat, he picked up the pincer, blew on it, and took a bite.
“Mmh! This tastes pretty good!” the dwarf chewed with satisfaction.
“I guess we're having seafood every day now,” Rosie said, setting her helmet aside.
Then she cracked open the other pincer and took a bite. The crab meat had a subtle saltiness and was incredibly delicious.
The two began to gorge themselves.
Once the soup in the crab-shell pot had boiled for a while, Rosie used an empty pincer as a spoon to scoop some up and taste it.
The soup tasted surprisingly good, without any fishy odor, carrying a natural, savory saltiness.
It was a great way to replenish their salt and water intake.
Using the pincers as spoons, they drank the soup and ate the crab meat.
As the warm liquid flowed into their stomachs, the damp chill seemed to be entirely driven away.
When they finished, they both let out satisfied burps.
The dwarf's complexion had fully recovered, looking even better than before. He stared at the fire, a trace of comfort in his eyes.
“Get some rest. Once you're fully recovered, we'll continue exploring the secrets here,” Rosie said.
The dwarf nodded, closed his eyes, and was soon snoring softly.
Rosie stood up and walked to a high point of the building, looking down to survey their surroundings.
Her gaze swept across the weed-covered roads and extended to the outlines of the ruined buildings further away.
These buildings, standing beneath the light of the crystals, had been silent for countless years.
By the fire, the dwarf rolled over, muttered something in his sleep, and drifted back into a deep slumber.
A hint of weariness flashed deep in Rosie's eyes.
The adventure she had envisioned was one of heroic deeds and swift vengeance, not splashing around in a mud pit...
And in a place this vast, could they really find the remaining two secrets?
...
Meanwhile, five figures were making their way through the swamp.
Compared to Rosie and the dwarf's clumsy, stumbling progress, these five moved across the marsh as if walking on flat ground.
They wore specially made boots that reached up to their knees, which kept them from sinking into the mire or letting water in, allowing them to take light, swift steps.
Suddenly, one of them stopped and pointed into the distance. “Captain, there's smoke rising over there.”
It was coming from the direction of the building where Rosie was staying. A thin column of smoke was curling up from the complex, standing out clearly under the glow of the crystals.
The hunter captain took a glance. “Silence the hounds.”
He turned and whispered an order to a figure behind him:
“Shadow, go check out the situation. We'll wait for your report in those buildings over there.”
He pointed to another building some distance away from the column of smoke.
The woman called Shadow was dressed in tight black attire, her face covered by a black cloth that revealed only her eyes.
She nodded, lowered her body, and darted toward the column of smoke, vanishing into the shadows in the blink of an eye.
“Captain, why don't we just attack? Why go through all this trouble?” the young man beside him asked in a low voice.
The captain glared at him. “Lady Anna said the target is dangerous and unpredictable. Do you think you're more capable than Lady Anna?”
The young man lowered his head and said no more.
The four lowered their bodies, their figures gradually blending into the tall weeds.
Rate on N.U.
