Lord: Starting from a Goblin Nest

As a Shadow Spirit, Yelena had a long history of dealing with souls. Shadow Weavers, Shadow Dancers, and even the Soul Merchants on the banks of the Nether River were all members of the bizarre Shadow Spirit race. To them, using souls as sacrifices, fuel, or currency was hardly a matter of concern.

So, she naturally hoped Ron and the others wouldn’t have any aversion to it—even if the coin might have come from a devil.

”The soul contained within belongs to a human blacksmith,” Yelena said, having used a special technique to give the memories within a cursory read without damaging the Soul Coin. ”His wife was a Wizard. Although she never did anything malicious—at least, that’s what her husband believed—she was persecuted for it by the church in his hometown. As a common man, he was powerless and could only watch as his wife was burned at the stake.”

”He raised their son alone, only to discover the boy had also inherited his mother’s bloodline. As the child grew, it became impossible to hide, and the church came knocking once more.”

”Which church was this?” Victoria frowned. ”If what the blacksmith says is true, their actions were unjust!”

”And? Are you planning to avenge him?” Yelena glanced at her. ”This soul is from who knows how many years ago. We don’t even know where he was from.”

”Besides, the ones who persecuted his family were none other than the Priests of Heim. They believe that Wizards who don’t worship a True God are untrustworthy, and that leaving them be is irresponsible to the other citizens.”

”...” The Priest of Heim fell silent, but everyone could see the raw frustration in her eyes.

”The blacksmith himself must have found it even harder to accept,” Yelena shrugged. ”But he was just an ordinary man. How could he possibly stand against the Priests of a True God and the other villagers?”

”The only one who could save him and his son was, perhaps, a devil.”

”So, who lent him power? It wasn’t your Sect Leader, was it?”

”Soul Coins are a form of currency. There’s no necessary connection between who creates one and whose hands it ends up in,” Yelena said. ”The one who helped him was Zarell, the most famous of the Fallen Angels, and the ruler of Avernus, the Grand Duchess.”

”I figured,” Aiksuuri grumbled. ”A warmonger like that wouldn’t miss an opportunity like this.”

”But why was he made into a Soul Coin?” Ron asked curiously. ”Usually, isn’t that only for those who break their contracts?”

”Of course,” Yelena replied. ”This blacksmith did indeed break his contract.”

”Zarell agreed to help him defeat the Priests of Heim, but in exchange, she demanded the blacksmith’s most precious possession—I’m sure you can all guess what that was.”

”His son, of course. That’s devils for you,” Sera said, rolling her eyes. The price had been obvious even to her.

The blacksmith wouldn’t put the cart before the horse, of course. So he could only trade another treasure for his son’s freedom—his own life and soul.

”As for why this Soul Coin ended up here, I have no idea.”

”Can’t you get the answer by questioning the soul inside?”

”Unfortunately, no,” Yelena said, holding up her hands. ”You can question the soul, but it can only answer with things it knew in life. Even if I have a few little tricks to get around the three-use limit, I can’t violate its fundamental rules.”

”If you want to know more, your only option is to search the ruins where this Personification Monster has been.”

Green Swamp Town had been a proper town, after all, so it was still quite large even in ruins. Fortunately, the Personification Monster’s memory was decent. When Sera carried it out of the cave, it quickly pointed out a location, and the others immediately began clearing the area around that spot.

”This looks like it was just an ordinary home,” Aive said, hoisting a piece of a broken wall and tossing it aside. ”It’s strange. Why would a devil’s coin show up in a family’s kitchen?”

Even after being ravaged by time, they could still make out a stove and some broken, rusted utensils in the area.

”Maybe they hid the coin in a pie,” Ron said, cracking a lame joke. No one laughed.

In some parts of the world, there was a tradition that whoever found a coin in their food would have good luck, but a Soul Coin from the hells?

Besides, considering the coin’s size and weight, it was unlikely anyone would ”hide” it in food.

”Or...” Delaford suddenly dropped to the ground, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. ”There’s a secret cellar here.”

The goblin’s keen senses had noticed something unusual about a broken floor tile. But when he stuck his dagger into the crack and tried to pry it up, it wouldn’t budge.

”The mechanism’s jammed,” he spat on the ground. ”Sera, you’ll have to smash it open!”

”No need for all that trouble.” Perhaps inspired by Delaford’s action, Aiksuuri mimicked him and spat on the tile.

With a SIZZLING, corrosive sound, a dark entrance appeared before them.

”See?” The Black Dragon lifted his chin. ”Simple as that!”

”You’d better watch where you’re spitting in the future, especially when you visit us,” Sera teased. ”The trading post’s facilities aren’t necessarily any sturdier than this tile.”

”I’m a long way from going senile! I don’t just drool all the time!” the Young Dragon protested. ”Besides, our Dragon Species doesn’t get dementia...”

’Uh, do we or don’t we? We probably don’t... I’ll just ask my teacher next time I see him.’

”I’d advise you not to ask about that,” Ron said, tossing a candle down the opening. ”Remember? You dragons are all considered ’old’ after four hundred.”

”You’re bound to get smacked if you ask him that.”

The candle Ron had tossed was clearly no ordinary one. Ron hadn’t lit it, yet when it hit the ground, it immediately landed upright and ignited, bursting into a bright flame.

”Oh, I thought this worked on the same principle as the spoon,” Aive whistled. ”Nice improvement.”

”I’ve been keeping up with my studies, even out in the wilds,” Ron said with a sheepish grin. ”It just uses up a lot of candles. To create a Magic Item that can produce an Eternal Bright Flame, I used up almost all the candles we brought. The success rate isn’t exactly high.”

”So that’s why my bag has been feeling lighter lately,” Victoria said, exasperated, as she jumped down first. ”I haven’t even dared to light more than one for my bedtime prayers these past couple of days!”