"Your food," Whiteclaw said as he gestured at large metal crates and barrels.
"The containers are large."
"That's the way I got it."
He was clearly trying to make things difficult for me and squeeze out more of my wealth.
I pulled out the last pouches of Mana cores and set them on a nearby table.
Checking several of the crates and barrels all full of food items, I began pouring them into my spatial pouch without another container. Even if stuff got a bit mixed up, that was fine. One had to focus on what they wanted while reaching in to pull it out. This much food might cause some issues with it impacting other items, but it would just make things more difficult to pull out.
Spatial pouches were interesting creations. They were created from monsters that used spatial manipulation, and those pouches had a finite amount of space. The higher the level of the skill and the monster, the better the pouch.
Too small, and it wasn't worth the Alchemical cost to create a spatial pouch. The one I had was a decent size. Items went in, and the more that were in it, the harder it was to put more items in or take items out.
I just needed to reach in and focus on the item I wanted. The real trick was that the more items put into the spatial pouch, the smaller the distance between items. People usually used boxes instead of dumping stuff in. I would have to pull out the food one piece at a time. This update ıs available on novèlfire.net
This was making my spatial pouch a mess, but that wasn't an immense problem. I could just grab the food one piece at a time. It would be tedious if I needed to remove a lot quickly, but I wasn't planning to do that.
They kept the items inside locked in a separate space. Nothing living could survive in that space.
Whiteclaw was trying to see how annoyed I became or hoping I wouldn't take all the food. Regardless, it was clearly a scheme aimed at me, but I had been expecting something . I probably hadn't shown enough interest in his offered skill.
Treasure Sense — it sounded amazing, but ultimately, dealing with the beastkin was a trap. They were an insular people. They struggled to cooperate, and their leaders clearly had no interest in lifting their people up. Whiteclaw might say he was going to use the wealth to help other beastkin, but he was primarily going to enrich himself and strengthen his political position.
Whiteclaw didn't fully understand my strength, and I could tell he was trying to probe me to get a guess. I wasn't sure exactly how, but he did it through little tests and innocuous questions. I would do the same thing. While I hadn't noticed any blatant attempts to understand my status, I knew he wasn't being idle either. He would probably arrange something to happen once I left the settlement.
Food mostly filled my spatial pouch now. Pouring it all in had been annoying, but the opening of my spatial pouch was big enough to fit my armor and had accommodated pouring in food into the opening.
"It all fit perfectly."
"Only high-level adventurers have a spatial pouch. Not easy to get or to make. We don't see many of them around here. If you find a way to go back and forth to your home continent, we could open up a trade route."
"I would be interested in Treasure Sense."
I was interested, but I definitely didn't want to come back to this place.
A loud bell echoed over the settlement and into the warehouse we were standing in.
I put my hand on the hilt of my blade and looked at Whiteclaw.
"It isn't you, but there is a major incident. I suggest you leave," he said and left the warehouse. I wanted to roll my eyes at that suggestion.
When a bell sounded and everyone was being alerted and going to the center of the settlement, running away would only draw attention.
The scent-concealing cloak did what it said as far as I could tell. It was a good cloak. I also had a metal mask. It wasn't like the mask Whiteclaw had let me borrow previously, but if someone glanced under my hood, they wouldn't immediately see a human.
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My gloves were concealing enough as well, even if they weren't the style the beastkin used. I would obviously be a foreigner, but that was fine. Being from another beastkin Clan was okay, but being a human would mean trouble.
I left the empty warehouse and followed other beastkin that were slowly gathering in the main plaza under a pillar of black smoke. The bell rang a second time.
I stayed at the edge, leaning against a metal building as more beastkin pushed their way closer to the front where there was a large, elevated metal platform.
At least two legends were standing on it based on my sensory skills, but the other three beastkin up there were probably also legends. All melee fighters as well based on the weapons they were carrying.
The bell rang a third and final time, and everyone quickly quieted down. There had to be several thousand beastkin gathered in the lukewarm plaza. While the buildings blocked most of the wind, it was still cold even during the daytime.
"My fellow Clan members. Today we have encountered an ancient threat. A threat that took us from power as a glorious nation to the meager settlements we live in today. Bring up the prisoner!"
Someone presented a bound figure, and my heart stilled at the sight. It was Stormy, the Elf from my team. I thought she had blown herself up with that wave of Mana coming from above in the dungeon. But apparently, she had lived and the beastkin captured her. There were roars of shouts and boos from the beastkin. I kept still and didn't dare breathe too much. After a minute, they finally quieted down as the speaker of the legend waved them to be quiet.
Blood was coming down her face, and someone had ripped off one of her ears. She looked completely miserable.
"Seeking to kill our young adventurers, who are bravely seeking supplies and resources in the dungeon, this Elf is a remnant of the evil inflicted upon us. Look upon her visage! Deformed and ugly!"
The crowd roared at this.
Thankfully, I was at the back with the other quiet people. There was some shouting, but the other beastkin near me were trying to see what was going on and listen to it.
"Using spell skills stolen from our people to kill us, she is our enemy! We must destroy and rip apart that great enemy!"
That was not good. I really underestimated the hostility after dealing with Whiteclaw.
But if the hostility was this great, then he wouldn't want anyone knowing he dealt with me either. The legend then grabbed her clothes and ripped them off to the jeers of the crowd. This was horrible. But there was nothing I could do.
There were five legends up there and countless more beastkin watching. I knew they would target me immediately if I thought about acting or had a hostile intention.
The whole settlement shook with roars and stamping. That was when Stormy acted. Against someone who could use spell skills, there were limited ways to contain them. Ways the beastkin didn't have access to.
They had bound her hands with rope behind her, and with her wounded and naked, they probably thought she couldn't do anything. They should have kept her unconscious. It might not have been as exciting, but unless you had specifically created shackles to drain Mana from a person, then they were a colossal risk.
Stormy would permit no one to abuse or make her suffer as a captive. That was why it was best just to kill an enemy, instead of parading them about. It also explained why Xanatos was insane, pissing people off instead of killing them. Creating a life-or-death grudge with a powerful adventurer was a serious matter.
These beastkin didn't truly understand. Their memory was clearly lacking, or they didn't expect her to fight back. Whatever the reason, it gave Stormy a chance to act.
Lightning exploded outwards from her body.
The weak beastkin at the bottom of the platform instantly died. They had no resistance skill, and their stats were far too low. The lightning damage locked the legends in place for a moment.
Stormy rushed forward and leaped off the stage, with her hands bound behind her back, towards the crowd.
More beastkin screamed and died. A spear from one legend flew.
Stormy twisted; it pierced her chest, came out of her breast and pinned her to a charred beastkin that hadn't fallen down.
The Aura of Lightning grew even bigger as she fed her very life into the spell skill.
Great job beastkin. Great freaking job.
There had to be at least a couple hundred dead and thousands injured. A sword went flying and decapitated Stormy, but by this point the damage was done.
No wonder the beastkin had a ruined civilization. They had no common sense. They should have either killed her quickly or made a deal with her for knowledge. She would have traded some spell skills for their help.
The beastkin had to act like beasts. Parading a captive, disrespecting an adventurer, insinuating torture and a horrible death, and building up racial animus. I lost all sympathy for the beastkin and their plight for the first time since I came to this settlement. They truly were their own worst enemies.
Their minds were messed up. Now there would be no chance of making peace for hundreds of years more, perhaps ever. And they let much of their small population get killed.
The chant grew from all the beastkin at the edge, and I joined in, so I didn't look out of place. I felt sick in my stomach. The crowd advanced on their fallen comrades.
I didn't want to ask my father why he wiped them out. I wanted to ask him why he hadn't finished the job. The beastkin were truly depraved, and they ate the corpses of sentient creatures. That was as bad as eating monsters. The Mana contamination was incredibly dangerous. But the beastkin who had died were weak. The risk would be low, and they were all hungry and feral.