The Fat Aristocrat Waltz in the Labyrinth - Chapter 63
Chapter 63: The fat aristocrat is scared of stone
‘How did they even build such a grand bathhouse?’ Mitrof thought to himself.
Taking a bath after returning from the labyrinth had become an indispensable habit. Mitrof had lived as a nobleman up to this age, but he barely remembered the experience of soaking in hot water. It’s a hassle and expensive to boil a large amount of water for baths every day, and it’s just not a habit.
The climate in this area is dry, and the air is always crisp. There was no sweating or stickiness, and it was customary to take a shower after exercising and sweating.
Of course, they bathe two or three times a week, or before events.
However, bathing for nobles is still not familiar to them. It is a process of sweating in a small room made of stone with steam and herbs, scrubbing off dirt, and then bathing in water. Immersing the whole body in hot water like this is not a familiar practice among nobles.
However, Mitrof was completely fascinated by it and found it better than a steam bath.
Next to him, two men sank their bodies into the water, revealing their tanned and toned muscles.
“Ah, I love it!—I have to take a hot bath after work, or I won’t be able to relieve my fatigue.”
“It also helps to wash away the sweat—I don’t mind, but my mom keeps telling me to go.”
“Same here—if I don’t take a bath before going home, I’ll be criticized for smelling bad and having dirty clothes—well, now I come even without being asked.”
“No difference.”
The men laughed and continued in the hot water.
‘I agreed,’ Mitrof nodded.
Physical laborers and adventurers sweat and get dirty a lot. Citizens are accustomed to bathing more frequently. And once you experience this comfort, you can’t help but continue. Mitrof knows this from personal experience.
It seems that the bath-loving king built such a large bathhouse, anticipating acceptance by many citizens.
“The king’s foresight is terrifying.”
“What, are we talking about politics today?”
Next to Mitrof, a large man with the head of a majestic lion made a splash. He was a regular at the public bath and had become quite familiar with Mitrof, almost like the master of the place.
Today, Mitrof looked up at the man’s high position.
“Well, I think the king who built this bathhouse really understands the people.”
“Oh?—I’ve heard some people scoff at him as a flippant and superstitious king.”
“Aren’t you afraid of being accused of disrespect?”
Mitrof frowned in exasperation.
Openly criticizing the monarchy is taboo. Depending on the situation, you could be thrown into prison and beaten with a stick.
But the beatman laughed heartily.
“Well, we are free to speak our minds in the bathhouse—besides, facts are facts—since taking the throne at a young age, he built an observatory for astrology, the palace is filled with music every night, and he had paintings made on the ceilings—promoting culture is fine, but I hear that many nobles are rebelling against it.”
“… You have good ears.”
Mitrof was impressed. At the same time, he understood that this man was not an ordinary person.
Previously, Mitrof was introduced to an “acquaintance” of this man. The man claimed to be collecting “Labyrinth’s relics” for his hobby, but when they met, he was clearly a nobleman.
Since the man did not reveal his identity and seemed to want to make transactions only as a personal hobby, Mitrof did not inquire any further.
If he had connections with aristocrats and could detect indications of involvement in the capital’s politics, then he was too great a person to be just an adventurer.
The lion-headed man stepped forward while moving only his golden eyes to look down at Mitrof. He smiled, showing his fangs.
“Having many people you can rely on when in trouble is better—by connecting these relationships, “rumors” will naturally gather.”
“…That’s instructive.”
For Mitrof, this was a distant matter. As a noble, it was necessary to expand one’s network of relationships to live as one. But Mitrof was unable to establish relationships, even among gatherings of noble children.
As memories of failures at social events such as tea parties and evening parties flooded in, he wanted to scream. He pinched the flabby, loose meat on his arms to calm himself down.
“When you find a thread of connection, treasure it. It can save you in unexpected ways. There are things you can’t understand and things that can go wrong with your own narrow insight, but just having someone you know you can rely on will make things much better.”
It was a casual way of speaking, but to Mitrof, it sounded like words of wisdom.
“…Narrow insight. That is certainly true. I don’t know anything about Labyrinth.”
He took some hot water and splashed it on his face.
“Today was eventful in the labyrinth again—I saw the great elevator—I have no idea how it works, and I got a stone from an acquaintance, but I’m not sure what they are—the labyrinth really is a place where you don’t get bored.”
“Oh, stone?—What kind of stone?”
The lion-headed man showed interest only in the passage about the stones.
“I don’t know what kind of stone it is—it looked like some kind of raw stone, with a mysterious transparent yellow color…”
“Hey, you haven’t shown them to the guild staff, have you?”
Suddenly, the lion-headed man lowered his voice.
“N-No. I was planning to confirm them with the receptionist, but I forgot about it after seeing the great elevator.”
Usually, anything obtained within the labyrinth must be reported. Failure to do so results in severe penalties. The receptionist had repeatedly emphasized this before entering the labyrinth for the first time.
“…Do we have to report something that we received from someone else?”
“It’s usually not a problem—however, that stone may be a problem.”
“A problem with the stone?—Is it a gemstone or something?”
Mitrof tilted his head.
“More importantly, the story becomes complicated… You said you got it from an acquaintance—what kind of person gave you the stone?”
The lion-headed man was not joking. Mitrof could tell that he was asking in all seriousness.
“…It was the people of the labyrinth—I helped her when she was in trouble, and it was a token of her gratitude.”
“That’s troubling.”
The lion-headed man gave a curt response and crossed his thick arms.
Somewhere in the dark and steamy bathhouse, the boisterous laughter of the men could be heard echoing.
“This is just speculation—I’m not sure if it’s true.”
With a preamble, the beatman looked down at Mitrof.
“That stone is probably what’s called ‘amber’.”
“‘Amber’?—I’ve never heard that name before.”
“That’s right, it’s still a new name—”Amber” was just discovered in the labyrinth.”
“Why did she have such a precious thing?”
Mitrof murmured to himself. When Apélie Tiff handed him the stone, she didn’t seem to know its value.
“The guild uses the ‘people of the labyrinth’ to mine ‘amber.'”
“…Oh?”
“The guild doesn’t want its existence to be known as much as possible—if the people find out, it will become a big deal—that’s because it deceives people’s hearts.”
The lion-headed man sighed mournfully.
“If the guild starts digging holes in the labyrinth out in the open, it will cause commotion and suspicion—besides, digging blindly for holes is inefficient—the challenge is to find where the ‘amber’ is buried. It is also important to keep it a secret from others as much as possible.”
The lion-headed man shrugged his shoulders.
With his serious demeanor, Mitrof swallowed his saliva nervously.
“Sometimes, the people known as the ‘people of the labyrinth,’ who live in the passages of the monsters or dig through the collapsed walls of the caves, are found—the guild may secretly buy the ‘amber’ that they find or even assign them work—it is just my speculation.”
Suddenly, Mitrof remembered something.
When he and Grace had just entered the labyrinth, they found a shallow cave. Later, when they passed by, the cave was guarded by guild soldiers. Finding that side passage earned them a reward from the guild.
Something seemed off, as it was an elaborate reward for just finding a shallow cave.
It might have been a precaution if they were worried about finding ‘amber’ in that cave. That side passage remains sealed even now.
“Hmm, so it is possible that the ‘people of the labyrinth’ have a contract with a guild and are residing in the labyrinth as part of their job.”
Well, I don’t know.
The lion-headed man said, as he stood up, splashing water everywhere.
“Be careful—If it’s known that you have ‘amber’, you won’t be able to walk the streets at night with ease.”
Upon hearing this, the blood drained from Mitrof’s face.
It may sound like a joke to scoff at, but assassinations and murders are common among nobles. It is a well-known fact that during disputes over succession, strange illnesses and accidents occur. To Mitrof, the words “assassination” and “attack” carry a chilling sense of reality. Something that could happen.
“Wait, I haven’t asked yet… what is ‘amber’? Is it a jewel?!”
Mitrof stopped the lion-headed man, who had already gotten out of the hot water. The lion-headed man turned his face back over his shoulder and laughed heartily.
“Well, find out for yourself—it’ll be a good experience.”
Leaving his words behind, the lion-headed man walked towards the steam. He always took long baths. Mitrof knew he was just going to soak in another hot spring.
But unable to get a clear answer, he couldn’t follow up to ask him.
What was the “amber” that Apélie Tiff gave him? The lion-headed man had warned him about its danger, yet he didn’t tell him anything important and left.
Mitrof submerged himself in the water up to his shoulders. The unknown stone bore the name “amber,” and only mysteries remained.
Mitrof crossed his arms and growled, his throat rumbling like a wild animal.
Somewhere, the men burst into laughter.