Ghost Knight King's Dungeon Project

Chapter 30 [Nighttime Talk]

The winding, desolate road leading to the Erdrik Empire crawled across the land like a giant python. As the road stretched on, the decaying dust and dry topsoil along the roadside gradually diminished, transforming into fertile black soil and verdant common shrubs.

Trees, flowers, and animals are increasing in number; daisies are blooming all over the road, and a few rabbits are peeking out from among the daisies.

The magical energy in the surrounding area is becoming increasingly thin, which is a characteristic of being close to the habitable zone.

The outline of Fallenthorn City had been left far behind, disappearing into the hazy horizon. Dozens of carriages moved along the desolate road, a group of nearly three hundred people chatting and laughing, boasting and exchanging stories, looking more like a group outing than an escort of precious goods.

"Don't be afraid of life's disappointments, all roads lead to Eros..." Among the group was an assassin who also worked as a bard. He sat atop his party's carriage, clutching a worn-out lute, singing a cheerful tune as the group moved forward, "Everyone is an adventurer, life is a land of gold..."

"Everyone is an adventurer, life is a golden land!" Everyone in the convoy sang along, laughing heartily. The loud singing echoed on the desolate road, startling the birds in the roadside groves into flight, then they landed back on the branches and chirped along with the song.

Two large merchant caravans transporting high-level enchanted materials, along with eleven teams of mid-level adventurers they had hired, totaling nearly three hundred people, happened to be traveling the same route.

In this situation, partnering with a peer is clearly a wise and pleasant choice, and no one can think of a reason to refuse.

Although bandits are rampant along the border, they are just vicious desperados and do not actually want to commit suicide.

The merchants weren't stupid. The adventurer teams they hired were generally between level three and six, and they had all carefully reviewed Alliance quest logs, selecting those with good reputations and teams that had been around for over a year. They weren't as expensive as level seven or eight adventurers, but they weren't as rude, unreliable, or uncouth as level one or two adventurers either.

Intermediate adventurers are known for their reliable individual combat skills, keen observation, extensive experience in reconnaissance of unfamiliar environments, and relatively stable tactical thinking. A group of intermediate adventurers of this size, simultaneously escorting two large long-distance freight caravans equipped with roof-mounted crossbows and sturdy iron armor, totaling dozens of wagons and nearly three hundred men, would make it virtually impossible for any bandit to risk their lives.

For some unknown reason, they didn't encounter many monsters or undead warriors along the way. Only occasionally would one or two small monsters appear, like shy children forced to show their faces in front of relatives, making a perfunctory appearance by circling around a couple of times before turning around and running away.

As they get closer to the habitable zone, in areas where the magical energy is becoming increasingly thin, the presence of monsters and undead has completely disappeared.

Overall, everyone had a very pleasant journey, almost like a picnic. After a long and stressful adventure, they were finally able to escape the cruel and brutal wasteland and return to the less challenging habitable zone. This mission was a rare opportunity for relaxation.

The food chain of the demon realm, far removed from the wilderness, seems to have transformed wild beasts back into humans—vibrant, passionate, civilized, and warm-hearted people.

As night fell, everyone got out of the vehicles to stretch their bodies, took out their tents and set up camp on the roadside grass, arranged shifts to keep watch, lit campfires, and went to find nearby rivers or other water sources to roast food.

While the other members were setting up camp around the convoy, the twenty-odd hunters in the group spontaneously organized themselves, drew their bows and arrows, and hunted over a dozen rabbits, three wild boars, and two deer from the surrounding woods. They skillfully deboned and butchered the animals, generously sharing their rare normal meat with everyone—no matter how low the demonic content of the Crackclaw Bird was, it was still a demonic beast. Ordinary people would inevitably experience a stinging discomfort in their mouth and esophagus when chewing meat containing demonic substances.

The drivers of the two caravans were also infected by this atmosphere. After exchanging glances, they burst into laughter, put aside their meticulous business mindset, opened the storage compartments in their wagons, took out hard bread and baked goods, and shared them with everyone for free, making the atmosphere more like a joyful camping trip.

The spontaneous group hunt ended, and the twenty-odd hunters joked with each other, competing to see who had the biggest catch. They skinned their prey, butchered it whole, and threw the meat into a large iron pot over the campfire. The pot bubbled and simmered with broth, while the hunters hurried back to their respective groups.

“Paria-Karakkava (Warm Flames of the Heart)... This is one of the reasons we enjoy being with humans.” A pointed-eared elven hunter, carrying an ancient wooden spider silk bow, nimbly swept over the rooftops of a dozen or so carriages, returning to his ranks with a smile, and said to his teammates. His soft-soled boots made a soft, leaf-like sound as they stepped onto the carriage roofs.

"I'm back." Rondar, carrying his hunting bow, strode back to his camp and stretched. He had hunted a rabbit and a wild boar, ranking among the top ten of all the hunters' catches.

"Oh, where is everyone?" He looked around and found that only the Samo monk was left sitting by his tent in his camp.

“Elliott took his bowl and went to the pot to get some broth… even though it looks like it’ll be ready in another half hour.” Samael shrugged. “But the aroma is wafting over, and he can’t sit still once he smells it.”

"Serena and Ruby are in the tent. Ruby is close to her exam and is still reviewing her Potions textbook."

“Taran is…” He hesitated for a moment, “…a little further away—praying. You know…it’s our religious custom that prayer needs to be done in a secluded place—”

“No, no, Brother Samo, there’s no need to explain this to me.” Rondar waved his hand, plopped down next to Samael, and put down the hunting bow beside him.

"It's rare to have a chance to rest. I've been tense for a long time." He looked at the warm sunset on the distant horizon and the noisy and lively scene in the large camp of nearly three hundred people.

"Also, after Gerard set up the tent, he went back to the car alone." Samuelton paused. "Perhaps... you should pay more attention to Gerard?"

"Hmm?" Rondar looked up.

“I mean, he always seems a bit withdrawn,” Samael explained. “He doesn’t seem to get much attention in your team, so he seems a bit…”

Samael hesitated.

“Glad is illiterate.” Rondar gazed at the distant sun. “Perhaps that makes him a little insecure. He’s not particularly bright or talented, and he knows almost nothing except how to wield a sword with brute force—he’s been trying to learn to read on his own lately.”

"Actually, Elliott didn't know many words either, but he was very optimistic. He thought it didn't matter if he couldn't read, being a roughneck was fine, since cutting throats and stabbing people didn't require him to know how to read."

“Oh.” Samael nodded. “It’s good to know that you’re paying attention to him—after all, as a leader, or rather, as the person in charge, one should try to be considerate and take care of everyone in every situation…”

He paused, then said nothing more.

“You always surprise me, Brother Sama.” Randall turned to look at Samael’s helmet. “Were you ever some kind of leader?”

Samael remained silent for a moment.

“Back then, I think it was a long time ago.” He recalled, “Now that I think about it, it seems like a long time ago. At that time, I was studying at a college in my hometown. The college allowed students to form their own societies, and I was the leader of one of those societies—responsible for organizing gatherings.”

He smiled softly.

"Most of the students at my hometown college came from years of solitary and arduous study, so they were often taciturn, distant and repressed from one another. During gatherings, everyone was always silent. At that time, in order to liven up the atmosphere, I would deliberately talk nonsense, tell jokes, and make sure that no one in the crowd was being noticed—to take care of everyone equally."

"I'm used to it." He gazed in the direction of the carriage.

Inside the carriage sat Gerard, holding a small notebook and a charcoal pencil, his brow furrowed as he painstakingly copied the words, stroke by stroke.

The notebook and charcoal pencil were exactly the same as those that Rondar usually used, and were obviously a gift from Rondar.

“Don’t tell Taran these things,” Samael said.

"Why?" Rondar was slightly taken aback. "Doesn't Brother Taran know about your past?"

“She doesn’t need to know.” Samael shook his head. “She has a lot of difficult things weighing on her mind, which makes her feel depressed, exhausted, and always anxious and tense. Although I have them too, I must never show them. In front of her, I must always maintain a relaxed and cheerful demeanor, just like—just like a person who takes responsibility must never show weakness or nervousness when faced with problems, but must maintain a confident and lighthearted attitude, otherwise, if others see you with a tense face, they will also panic.”

“My goodness, you won’t tell Brother Taran all this, but you’re willing to talk to me about these things?” Randall laughed as he pulled out his notebook to jot down the experience. “Thank you for the experience, Brother Samo. I’ve heard Uncle Carlisle mention that an old officer in their Imperial Army always told dirty jokes when things were really tough—maybe the same kind. You must have been a great leader once too.”

“It’s nothing serious. I know you’re very tight-lipped, Randall brothers.” Samael shrugged. “This is a conversation between men. You’re the leader of the squad, so we all understand the situation. There’s nothing shameful about talking to you about it.”

“Actually, I also studied at the Kro Mage Academy in the Erdrik Empire, and served as the head of a society within the academy.” Randall put away his notebook. “From this perspective, you and I have some things in common.”

He gazed at the setting sun gradually disappearing on the horizon.

“My father was a very stubborn man, but his eyesight wasn’t very good, and he missed every opportunity to change his fate,” Rondar said. “My grandfather was a farmer who left him a piece of farmland, so he used the farmland to make a living and worked around for half his life, eventually becoming a farmer with even more farmland.”

"However, when he was young, Erdrik and the Supar Empire went to war. He stayed on the farm and did not join the army, missing the opportunity to become a military lord."

"Later, when mages and potion makers became popular, they were few in number and extremely valuable. Instead of spending his savings on education, he used them to buy more farmland."

“The courageous fellow villagers all went out to make their way in the world. With their savings, even if they worked while studying, some joined the army and became military officers, while others succeeded in their studies and became veteran mages and potion makers.”

“Only my father, guarding his farm, never left the town his whole life, watching enviously as his peers returned home with wealth and glory, while he could only sit by the field in a daze.” “Therefore, after my brother and I were born, my father immediately sent us to the Crow Mage Academy—not very good, but enough to receive some magical education.” Rondar leaned against the tent behind him, watching the afterglow of the setting sun gradually disappear on the horizon.

“But… I’m just not cut out for it.” He turned and smiled, saying frankly, “I don’t like magic, and I can’t understand how magic arrays work. They’re too complicated and too boring.”

"The academy's instructors won't let you do it yourself, because spell catalysts are all enchanted materials, which are very expensive. Only a very few wealthy mage academies can afford to provide students with a large number of runestones and spell catalysts for free practice."

"The Kro Mage Academy is a small academy in a backward province of the empire, and it simply doesn't have the financial resources. They will only make you draw diagrams on boring white paper, calculate cycles, and repeat things that have no meaning over and over again, and repeatedly recite the materials and working principles of enchanted plants and animals."

“I’m not someone who can sit at a desk for long.” Rondar smiled bitterly, the sunlight had completely disappeared, and the stars were twinkling overhead. “There’s no point in continuing to attend the academy—because my grades are so bad that I can’t graduate normally.”

"I prefer real-world things to abstract theories. I hope to learn from experience, not from a blank sheet of paper."

"I want to touch the enchanted flowers and plants with my own hands, instead of staring at faded pictures in a second-hand encyclopedia and daydreaming."

"I hope to measure the earth with my own footsteps, rather than memorizing the names of provinces and the characteristics of the climate in different regions."

"At that time, a high-ranking adventurer mage came to our academy to give a lecture. He recounted the strange things he had seen around the world: the snow-covered mountains of the north guarding the knight families; travelers riding camels in the deserts and oases of the east; devout believers of the Holy Light Kingdom in the south making pilgrimages to the holy land with prostrations at every step; and young girls in the Kingdom of Florence in the west wearing revealing and free short skirts."

Rondar smiled.

"It was then that I realized how big the world is, yet I have spent my whole life like my father, guarding my own field, staring blankly at the land."

“My father was very stubborn. When I told him that I wanted to drop out of school to become an adventurer and see the world, he whipped me severely, leaving my back covered in scars.”

“After a big argument, I ran away from home.” He took a deep breath. “I secretly climbed onto a caravan heading to the Wasteland. Although the old captain discovered me halfway through because my stomach was growling with hunger, he didn’t drive me away. He just asked me what was going on, gave me food and a place in the caravan, and took me to Fallingthorn City.”

“When I first arrived in Fallenthorn City, I was actually in a similar situation to the two of you. It was Senior Norman who helped me with the adventurer registration process, and it was also Senior Norman who took on the newcomer internship mission and allowed me to stay with the team for more than a year.” Rondar smiled.

"That's why I was so eager to help you two when I saw how you were—including with potions, which are extremely important. I almost died during my first internship mission because I didn't have any potions."

"So when I saw that you didn't have any potion pouches, I gave you mine—although you two probably don't really need any."

“No, no, your potion pack saved Lukewin Rost’s life,” Samael recalled. “That was important.”

"Who was it again?" Randall paused for a moment.

“The Cracked Claw Bird Killer,” Samael replied.

Both of them couldn't help but burst into laughter.

“In short, I became an adventurer,” Rondar said.

"I touched the white-shelled flower in the textbook with my own hands. It smelled of mint and egg white, and its petals were hard, like steel."

“I personally experienced the dust storm. That day, our team and other new recruits were huddled together in the barracks lobby, shivering. Brown, rotten soil was frantically pounding against the glass outside the window. The landlady, seeing us new recruits making such a fuss, brought us some hot tea to calm our nerves.”

“The world used to be very small, consisting only of my father’s farm. Then I went to Crowe College, which became a new, narrow prison.”

"It wasn't until I was finally free and stood under the sky, looking at the Kana Plain and the City of Fallen Thorns, that I realized this was the real world. Not the faded pictures in the picture book, nor the two lines of text in the textbook, but the white-shelled flowers in the shady woodland, the roaring dust storms, the howling snouts of dogs, and the wobbly rotten root balls."

“The world is…where I go.” Rondar looked up at the sky.

"How fortunate I am to be able to wander through such a vast world," Samael exclaimed, gazing at the boundless stars above. "So are you and I."

The two laughed heartily, watching Elliott, carrying seven steaming bowls of meat soup, stagger towards them from a distance.

"Are you blind, Riska? Get the hell over here and take this!" Elliott yelled. "It's burning hot!"

"Coming, coming!" Samael and Randall stood up and quickly took the piping hot broth.

"Time to eat!" Elliott yelled at the tents and wagons. "Eating is the most important thing, you know? My life is so fragile, it's all about food!"

……

"Just as I said, the girl from the Ronoway family."

In the desolate darkness far from the camp, a raven chuckled softly.

"The hunters of Situka have arrived. A high-ranking demon commander, leading twelve demonized beings, is rapidly crossing the Kana Plain."

"A group of Blood Sword Guard reservists, who are undergoing training, are already stationed on the Imperial border. They are equipped with powerful blood steel weapons."

"Understood." Talia crouched down in front of the demonic raven, using her cloak to shield it from view, and nodded.

“You seem quite confident.” The raven narrowed its eyes.

“Because he was traveling with me,” Talia replied.

"What exactly is that Bronze Knight?" Demon Raven tilted his head slightly. "Is he a living person? Or is he a spirit from the age of the gods?"

"I have to go. You should quickly withdraw the Raven Scouts so as not to interfere with our ability to conceal our identities." Talia vaguely heard the call coming from the direction of the camp.

"How rude of you," the demon crow chuckled softly.

"Where is your crested raven pet? Why send an ordinary raven to deliver the message?" Talia asked.

"Since you know I won't answer, then you might as well not ask," the demon crow snorted.

“You are the same,” Talia said.

"You rude girl." The crow flapped its wings and flew away.

　Recently, some new readers have asked about the main character's character design on the forum. Some readers who have just read the first few chapters feel that the main character is too frivolous and lively, which doesn't fit the tone of the work. Therefore, this chapter deliberately reveals a small amount of the main character's character design that is planned to be revealed later, without affecting the key plot points.

　　Readers who have followed this far may have noticed that even a random passerby in this work can be quickly portrayed as a vivid and distinctive complex character with just three or four lines of dialogue and a couple of brief descriptions. This usually involves filling in gaps in the character's identity, background, cultural context, personality, current stance, motivations, and worldview.

　　With such skillful control of the writing, would the protagonist, as the most important character, become monotonous and flat? Of course not. The protagonist's personality and background, including family and real-life experiences, are quite complex and are related to many plot foreshadowing elements.

　　The protagonist's frivolous and lively first impression stems from the author's status as a newcomer. New readers have very short attention spans, resulting in extremely limited word count in the three crucial chapters introducing the protagonist. Therefore, the author had to carefully craft the narrative, quickly introducing the main plot and building anticipation. Excessive detail in character development would take up too much space.

　　The first 50,000 words must be written with a low reading cost. To ensure a good reading experience for readers, the setting guide and instruction manual cannot be included. This means that, like the main character's background and the world-building, the story can only be gradually developed as the plot progresses.

　　Perhaps the lack of trust from new readers stems from their limited knowledge of the author. In any case, please rest assured. While I can't guarantee anything else, I do have some experience in portraying complex characters.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)