#050. The Harvest Festival Event is Too Kind (2)

#050. The Harvest Festival Event is Too Kind (2)

The harvest festival filled my heart with such sorrow.

It was an opportunity to sweep treasures into sacks instead of grains.

Because of my selfishness, Mom’s sack was filled only with everyone’s respect, instead of treasure.

“Does honor fill your belly?”

“Don’t spout nonsense and give me the reward.”

“I’ll take thank-you letters in cash. Cough up the money.”

I didn’t even have to say how humiliating this request was for Mom, who always made sure to take reward money in cash.

“Thanks to Teresa-nim, the entire adventurer’s guild moved to help with the harvest. This is just a small token of our appreciation!”

Seeing her lip twitch as she was handed harvest yields like sweet potatoes, potatoes, and even knitted socks, I could tell how much Mom was suppressing her anger.

“There! A sweet potato is rising up!”

“Let’s slice ’em up and steam ’em!”

“Heh heh. Don’t be in too much of a hurry. They taste better if we slowly boil them while listening to their screams.”

How nervous must she be to swallow hard at the excited adventurers’ conversations?

Ian truly had no face to show.

“I feel so much stronger after eating those sturdy ones!”

“We gotta kill these guys.”

“Why didn’t we do this delicious thing before?”

Anna, excited by the gleeful adventurers’ conversation, raised both hands and shouted excitedly.

“Gotta kill these guys!”

The adventurers suddenly froze, awkward.

Anna, who was enjoying mimicking their bad habits, raised her hand again and repeated like a parrot.

“Gotta kill these guys!”

The adventurers sweated bullets and stammered, flustered.

“Ah, Anna? That’s a bad word. You shouldn’t use it. It’s yucky yucky.”

“Gotta kill these guys?”

“Yeah, that one. If you don’t say that, I’ll give you a potato I just dug up. Okay?”

“Anna has many potatoes! Gotta kill these guys!”

“Who is it? Who taught my child such words?”

The adventurers were seized by the mother, her rage finally unleashed, and dragged through the fields for what felt like dozens of laps.

* * *

For the first few days, the adventurers joked and snickered, completely at ease. But as time passed, their faces grew serious, and their laughter faded away.

The harvest during a year of plenty proved to be a world apart in difficulty from a harvest during lean times.

“Damn it, another weed sprung up!”

“The weeds are tougher now. Tell them to bring torches, this section is unsalvageable!”

Weed-monsters, stealing nutrients and vitality from the crops as they grew, rapidly increased the durability of every plant nearby.

The grain became so tough that the blades of their scythes would dull, exceeding the farmers’ capacity to harvest.

And if a grain-monster were to awaken and be born amidst these already toughened crops, that’s when the disaster would begin.

“My blade won’t cut through it.”

“Ugh, how can mere grain be this strong!”

“What would have happened if we weren’t here right now?”

Ominous thoughts swirled in their minds.

Monsters that laugh at the scythes assault the farmers, who rush to the guild for help.

With the high-level adventurers gone after high-value loot, the guild, failing to grasp the situation, even offers additional contribution points as reward, while the remaining adventurers barely lift a finger.

The novices, specialized in odd-jobs, finally venture out, only to be half-massacred by the monsters that had grown in number while they were gone, and return to belatedly raise the alarm.

But now, with time having passed, the grain-monsters buff each other and grow stronger, multiplying at an alarming rate, with superior variants appearing at a rate of nearly one in four.

Until a Teresa-level combatant arrives, the adventurers, barely managing to contain the fires and prevent the town from being overrun, will suffer a great loss.

Ultimately, the situation will conclude with the appearance of high-level monsters impervious to fire, a half-destroyed town, and the wholesale slaughter of adventurers, farmers, and guards, all before Teresa can arrive.

And after that?

Only a future too terrible to contemplate.

A town where no one farms.

Food supplies that are critically short, despite the bumper crop.

Residents forced to spend huge sums to purchase food, and adventurers unable to endure the soaring prices abandoning Sodom Town and the guild.

The power of the town and the guild dwindles, and many tradesmen shut down their businesses and take up plows, or abandon the town in a chain reaction.

Teresa, the Adventurers’ Guild, or the town merchants could prevent the exodus by spending vast sums to stockpile food, but the money expended would far exceed the profits from selling all the acquired high-value loot.

Everyone loses.

A future where everyone is unhappy.

And now, the opportunity to prevent this entire tragedy in real-time has presented itself.

The adventurers felt a shiver, and a sense of pride.

“Did Ian and Teresa know? That our town could have faced such a terrible fate?”

“She is talented enough for the Cheperi Merchant Company to covet. She probably knew.”

“If she is a noblewoman, she must be smarter than us commoners.”

Sodom Town had overcome crises many times, thanks to the Teresa Clan. But this time, considering it was a crisis that arose without external checks, threats, or blackmail, it felt all the more terrifying.

Because Sodom Town’s main force was all gathered, the Teresa or Maria parties would dispatch to directly slaughter any superior monsters that appeared.

Even Diego, who was cursed as Gomorrah’s lackey, would lead his subordinates to participate in the subjugation of superior varieties.

“That guy, is he still in our town?”

“Which noble would take in a man who lost the noble he served?”

“I guess not. He’d be dead if he left town anyway.”

“Even so, it still feels…awkward.”

“Whether they live or die, if they had any shame, they’d vanish already, is what I say.”

As glares and reproaches came from all sides, even the adventurers from Diego’s old Gomorrah faction—the turncoats and the bystanders—began to bristle with discontent.

“Diego-nim. Is there really any need for us to endure this kind of abuse just to lend our strength?”

“Let’s ditch these wretches and go snatch some high-value loot, even now. With a scale like this, there’ll be plenty of high-tier monsters drawn in by the monster wave.”

“…Quiet. How does an adventurer survive without a base? If we leave Sodom, any guild we join will only give us commissions that lead to retirement or, more likely, death.”

Diego was trying to soothe his underlings with his words, but he, too, felt a similar impulse rising within him.

Should he resign himself to retirement and just go after the loot?

If his efforts and dedication aren’t recognized by this town, then there’s no reason to put in any more work, is there?

Teresa passed by with a cold indifference. And with the other adventurers displaying such cynical attitude, the stress of Diego’s faction, their devotion unappreciated, was reaching its breaking point.

Rather than causing trouble in town, the cleanest solution might be to take them all on one last score, divide the spoils, and part ways.

Let’s leave.

Diego’s mind was on the verge of being completely made up.

“Thank you. Diego-nim’s party has greatly reduced the burden on my mother and the guild.”

It was Ian, Teresa’s son, the de facto power of the town and guild, who came bearing a basket to those marginalized figures. They were made up of adventurers that were closer to contract mercenaries than any real part of the Gomorrah faction.

The basket contained things that nobody had bothered to provide them: drinking water, snacks, and equipment maintenance supplies.

“Kid. Did you get your mother’s permission for this?”

“Helping someone who has done a right thing doesn’t need anyone’s permission. My actions only follow the voice of my heart.”

“…!”

The adventurer who had most vocally called for leaving town couldn’t lift his head, filled with shame and embarrassment.

“So the rumors about Saint Ian weren’t for nothing. Thanks for everything. Thank you for thinking of us.”

“Just as I am not ashamed to help you, I hope you will not be ashamed to help the town.”

The adventurers, who had suffered subtle discrimination and spent their time withdrawn, were moved to tears before this respect and recognition, which they hadn’t experienced in so long.

Even the emotion of being recognized as a real adventurer back in their early days, when they were nobodies, couldn’t compare to this.

After all, who properly acknowledges adventurers anyway?

At best, they were seen as decent thugs or knife-wielders who wouldn’t hurt you as long as you didn’t cross them.

But after Ian’s visit, the discrimination and disregard vanished as if they were a lie.

“Here are the supplies. And…now that Ian has recognized you, I would like to apologize for withholding supplies and ignoring you until now.”

“Come to the tavern when you’re done. The farmers are treating everyone to drinks to show their gratitude for the adventurers’ hard work.”

“Don’t bother going over there. They’ve already set it alight, so it will be a wasted trip.”

Diego turned to his underlings.

“Do you still want to leave town and go for the loot, even now?”

“No, well, we were just talking, you know, just talking.”

“Who leaves free drinks behind?”

“Just don’t flake out on us, Chief.”

Diego chuckled.

“I don’t do things that aren’t profitable. But…this feels like a profitable situation.”

Diego poured the water Ian had left behind onto his scorching heavy armor, a smile forming beneath his helmet.

“Fifteen-minute break, then we clear the next area. Prepare yourselves.”

“Aye!”

In Sodom Village, another formidable party had formed, led by the Rank 6 Adventurer, Diego.