Chapter 737 (2/2)

Honestly, by day four, it seemed like he had missed his mark.

“I’ll be accompanying you today,” The tall goliath named Kurag said. “Your work has been less than satisfactory. We shall see if there are any ways that I can help you improve.”

Inwardly, Randidly grimaced. But he said nothing. Instead, he allowed a bit of worry to his face and nodded hurriedly.

Contrary to expectations, however, Kurag stopped dead. “Oh? Interesting. You could sense the lie, eh? Well fine, cards on the table. I do not trust you. Should you prove dangerous, I want to be near you so I can shove you into the chasm.”

That brought Randidly up short. Kurag grinned at him.

“Do you find it difficult to work when you feel a threat hanging over your head? Well, well. Perhaps we have more in common than I had thought.”

Ultimately, Randidly decided to ignore Kurag and continue with his work. Most of the heavy annihilation of rubble had already been accomplished, so it was largely just exploration and mapping. It was somewhat a hassle to actually carry the stones back to the giant hole to throw them away, but it was a small price to pay to remain relatively harmless seeming.

At the very thought of him being harmless in this world, Randidly chuckled.

When the work of the day was done, once more the laborers gathered to eat the perpetual stew they had boiling. Without even saying goodbye, Kurag wandered toward the central tent. Snorting, Randidly sat down at his usual spot.

Kejt sat down right next to him. “Ehehe, thanks for the help, softskin.”

Randidly’s mouth quirked up at the nickname the other laborers had given him. “Oh? What did I do?”

“The boys had a pool as to whether you would suffer an accident while supervised by Kurag. It happens more often than you would think, with that one. The pressure of being watched does something to a person,” Kejt said with a gleeful grin on his face.

“Does it now? Well, I suppose I’m lucky.” Randidly stretched out a hand.

“Ha, my lucky charm!” Kejt bellowed, slapping Randidly’s hand and placing half of his winnings into his palm. “We will make a killing if you can convince him to follow you around for another day.”

“My half of below is almost finished. Most of it was pretty clear past the initial collapses.” Randidly said, pocketing the money. Not that he needed it, but it was slightly amusing to him to swipe away these workers spare coin.

“Aye, we found that as well,” Kejt said with a nod. “A lucky charm for the whole expedition! Before you came, men were thinking about running away in the night. The labor seemed endless. Who would have guessed that this place was just playing hard to get, eh? Without the main road, the city will not be appealing to traders, but it will work just fine as a place to live during the sandstorms.”

“Are the sandstorms really that bad?” Randidly asked, changing the subject.

“For you? It means only death, softskin.” Kejt announced, pressing his fist against his chest. Then he winked at Randidly. “For us, also death. None but the strongest warriors survive out there. And even then, it is only for short spans of time.”

“...Why don’t you leave?” Randidly asked quietly, his gaze turning serious. This had been a question plaguing him as he wandered around the dark tunnels, with the spooky sound of the wind as his only company. These workers were throwing themselves at the work with an abandon that spoke of deep desperation in their life. And yet, that desperation was a desperation to fix the place where they were, this broken series of waypoints and fallen cities.

So why did they stay?

“That you ask that proves you have never known an Earth Golem,” Kejt said, slapping his knee. “Why are you so stubborn? Why do you stay in that barren Land? Why do you always ride to war?”

For dramatic effect, Kejt paused. Then, when he spoke, it was with a different voice. His timbre was deeper, almost resonant. It filled the small space between them and seemed to resonate with the stones on which they sat. Abruptly, Randidly felt that when Kejt spoke these words, he would speak with a voice that came not from himself, but from something much larger than a single life could be. “Because it is so. Because it is all we’ve known. Because we're damn good at it.”