Ash, age 20. An earth mage and a D-rank adventurer. He can't use large-scale attack magic and gave up on being an elite long ago. But he doesn't mind. Why? Because Ash has his two gorilla-style golems. With their muscular two-meter frames, they deliver double lariats and dropkicks. Whether it's magical beasts or skeletons, they blow them all away without question. The guild's whisper behind his back is 'Gorilla Guy.' Well, they're not exactly wrong.
His daily routine involves hunting deer-like
The Daily Life of a Golem Bastard - Rest and Resolve
The morning at Orca's Inn begins with the smell of stew.
The aroma of onions, garlic, and bone-in meat simmered low and slow. The wheat scent of freshly baked bread. At the counter, a dozen or so customers are already shoveling down their breakfast.
Ash sits in his usual spot—the farthest corner of the counter. His sleep-mussed brown hair is, as always, left as-is. His gray eyes are still half-closed.
In the deep dish before him, the daily stew sends up curls of steam.
He lifts the spoon to his mouth. Hot. Good.
"……Hah."
A small breath escapes before he can stop it.
(*Orca's stew really is the best.*)
That's when it happened.
A dull *thud*, and a shadow fell at the edge of his vision.
He looks up.
On the other side of the counter. Orca Bahn leans on both elbows, looking down at him. Forty-five years old. The former adventurer's wife usually brings the food out with a wisecrack on her lips. But now, she's staring at Ash without blinking.
"……What's with that face?"
Ash sets his spoon down.
"I've got something to ask of you."
Her voice is lower than usual.
"What, you come up with a new dessert?"
"No."
She shuts that down flat and pulls a sheet of parchment from beneath the counter. She thrusts it at him.
Ash takes it and scans the contents.
—D-rank search request. Northern village, abandoned mine. One missing person. Apothecary Eld Vain (age 62). Reward: 25 silver coins.
"……The old apothecary, huh."
"Distant relative of mine. Went into the abandoned mine looking for herbs and hasn't come back in three days."
Orca furrows her brow.
"The villagers tried searching, but the tunnel's collapsed. They came crying to me, said they couldn't do a thing."
"So, me."
"You're the only one."
Orca looks straight at Ash. Her fingertips trace the grain of the counter, just barely.
"Your golem can move the rocks from the cave-in. And besides—"
"I owe you for the meals."
Ash says it listlessly.
"Well, there's that too."
The corner of Orca's mouth relaxes, just a little.
"I've already filed the paperwork with the guild as a formal designated request. All that's left is for you to accept it."
"……You move fast."
Ash places the parchment on the counter.
"Twenty-five silver. So, what's the advance?"
Orca blinks for a moment, then—
"Ha. You're as mercenary as ever."
Her face breaks into a grin.
"Extra-large serving of the special stew."
"Alright, alright. I'll ladle you out a good one."
Orca fills a deep dish generously from the large pot. Steam billows up thick.
Ash takes it and starts moving his spoon in silence.
One bite. Two. Three.
(*Well, fine.*)
He murmurs inwardly.
(*Not like I had anything going on anyway.*)
It didn't take five minutes for the dish to empty.
"Draw me a map of the place."
Ash sets his spoon down and stands.
In his left hand, he grips his metal staff.
Orca pulls a charcoal stick and a crumpled sheet of paper from under the counter and sketches a simple map.
"Follow the north road for about an hour, you'll see the old mine entrance. From there on in… I'm counting on you."
"I'll see what I can do."
Ash stuffs the map into his pocket and pushes open the door of Orca's Inn.
The morning light stabs at his eyes.
—
The road heading north was quieter than expected.
Hardly any wagons or travelers today. The sky hangs low and overcast, looking ready to spill rain at any moment.
Ash walks at a leisurely pace, his metal staff propped on his shoulder.
(*The abandoned mine, huh.*)
An old mine near the northern village. Shut down decades ago, and now nobody goes near it. If there are herbs growing there, it'd be deep in the tunnels—.
"……What a pain."
He says it out loud, then reconsiders. *Ah, whatever.*
Orca's stew is good. And that landlady is one of the few people he can count on in a pinch. Building up a favor now and then isn't a bad investment.
After about an hour's walk, the abandoned mine comes into view, sitting alone along the road.
A crumbling wooden entrance. The rusted remains of a minecart. No one around.
Ash stops in front of the entrance.
"……Miasma."
The air feels faintly heavy.
(*Well, figures.*)
The golem summoning mark on his left wrist—an earthen geometric pattern—glows faintly.
*Rumble, rumble, rumble…*
The ground swells, dirt and stone gathering to take shape. Two gorilla-type golems—right and left. Two meters tall, over three hundred kilos each. Their earth-colored hulks stand blocking the mine entrance.
"Let's go."
Ash readjusts his grip on the metal staff and steps into the tunnel.
—
Inside the mine, it was cold and clammy.
Mold, and earth, and—a faint stench of rot.
The old torches mounted on the walls burned out long ago. Ash lights a small magic lamp in his left hand. A simple device that uses wind magic to ignite a luminescent stone. The pale light dimly illuminates the narrow tunnel.
Right and Left advance in single file, front and back.
The golems' footsteps echo dully through the tunnel. *Thud. Thud. Thud.*
"……Cave-in."
After a while, the path ahead is completely blocked by rock and debris. A section of ceiling collapsed, sealing off the tunnel.
Ash raises the magic lamp and peers through the gaps in the rubble.
"……Found him."
On the other side of the rocks. Faintly, a human presence.
"S-someone…!"
An old man's voice. Hoarse, trembling.
"Orca sent me. Can you move?"
"My leg… it's pinned under a rock…!"
"Got it. Stay still."
Ash raises his metal staff.
"Right. Move the rocks."
Right Golem grips the fallen boulders with both hands. *Rumble, rumble, rumble…* The massive body strains, and the rocks begin to lift, inch by inch.
That's when—
*KEEEEEEEE!*
An ear-splitting shriek. From deeper in the tunnel, a swarm of black shadows surges forward.
Grotesque bats. Their wings are tattered, their eyes clouded with miasma. The count… ten, twenty, more than thirty.
"……Here they come."
At the same time, another presence from the gaps in the cave-in.
*CRACK-CRACK-CRACK-CRACK!*
Bursting through the rocks is a giant centipede with a warped carapace. Over three meters long. Its countless legs writhe eerily, and its mouth froths with miasma-laced spittle.
"……A mutant."
Ash says it flatly.
"Left, suppress the centipede. Right, smash the bats."
Both golems move at once.
Left drives its fist into the centipede's head—*DOGOH!* The carapace shatters, fluids spraying. But the centipede doesn't flinch. It twists its long body and coils around Left Golem.
*Grrrrind…*
The carapace scrapes against the golem's stone body.
Right swings its arms wildly into the bat swarm. *Smash. Crack. Crunch.* A single sweep slams several against the wall at once. But there are too many. A few cling to Right Golem's head and sink their fangs in.
"……Tough."
Ash clicks his tongue.
The centipede's carapace is harder than expected. Left Golem's fists are only scraping the surface.
Then—
*CRACK!*
Left Golem's right arm is bitten clean off by the centipede's jaws. Stone fragments scatter.
A searing pain shoots through Ash's temple, like a hot nail driven in. The edges of his vision blur white, and his knees nearly buckle.
—When a golem is destroyed, magical backlash strikes the caster.
But Ash's mouth twists.
"……Not done yet."
Ash drives his metal staff into the ground.
The summoning mark on his left wrist glows earthen.
The scattered stone fragments freeze in midair. And then—they begin to gather again.
"Bind. Reform."
The shattered arm regains its original shape.
But it's not just a repair. The fist's form grows sharper, harder—tapering like a spear.
"Our turn now."
Left Golem drives its pointed fist into the centipede's head.
*SHOOM!!*
The carapace bursts from the inside. Fluids gush out, and the centipede's massive body convulses.
*Gya-gyah—*
A death cry. And then, it stops moving.
At the same moment, Right Golem crushes the last bat in its grip. *Squelch.*
Silence.
Only air thick with dust and miasma hangs in the tunnel.
"……Done."
Ash exhales.
His temple throbs a little.
—
"I-I'm saved…!"
The old man's voice from beyond the rubble.
Ash has Right Golem clear the rocks completely.
Eld Vain sits slumped against the tunnel wall. A gaunt old man with streaks of white in his hair. Dirt and sweat streak his pale face, and his lips are parched dry. His right leg is pinned under a collapsed rock.
"I'm moving it. Hold on."
Ash directs Left Golem to lift the rock.
The old man's leg is swollen purple. It doesn't seem broken, but he's severely weakened.
"You're… an acquaintance of Orca's…?"
"Something like that."
"Thank you… I was looking for herbs…"
The old man's voice cuts off mid-sentence. His shoulders tremble faintly, his breathing shallow.
"I'll hear about it later. Let's get out of here first."
Ash has Right Golem carry the old man on its back.
That's when—
Eld points a trembling finger deeper into the tunnel.
"……Over there… there's a whole patch of herbs…"
"Herbs can wait."
"No… it's not just the herbs. Further in… the miasma is…"
Ash stops in his tracks.
(*Miasma?*)
Now that he mentions it—
He pulls a simple magic tool from his pocket. A small stone slate for detecting miasma. A cheap thing that goes for three copper coins at the guild, but—
The needle is pegged.
"……What the hell."
The needle is past the maximum, trembling.
The color of the air is invisible. But—his skin prickles.
(*This isn't normal.*)
Something is leaking from deeper in the mine. A miasma concentration this high is abnormal.
"……Let's move."
Ash puts the tool away and has the golem carry the old man out.
Even as they leave the tunnel, something nags at the back of his mind.
(*This miasma—where's it coming from?*)
—
By the time they return to Orca's Inn, it's already past noon.
"Ash! You made it back alright!"
Orca bursts out from behind the counter.
"If I hadn't, I wouldn't be here."
"Ha, fair point."
Orca looks at old man Eld and breathes a sigh of relief.
"Eld, old-timer, you okay? I'll call a water-magic healer right away."
"……Sorry for the trouble."
The old man smiles weakly.
Orca turns back to Ash.
"Thank you, Ash. You really saved us."
"I did the job I was paid for."
"Not a shred of charm, as always. Here, bonus payment."
Orca holds out a ticket from behind the counter.
—Ten free stew vouchers, bound together.
"……Don't need 'em."
"Take 'em!"
She practically forces them into his pocket.
Ash resigns himself and sits down in his usual spot.
The stew poured into the deep dish sends up steam.
He picks up his spoon.
(*The miasma concentration—*)
He thinks as he brings the hot stew to his mouth.
(*That was wrong.*)
That abandoned mine is less than ten kilometers from the Necro Vault in a straight line. It's possible the underground miasma veins are connected.
And besides—
The request slip he saw on the guild bulletin board.
*Necro Vault Investigation Request.*
(*D-rank eligible—why would a request like that…*)
"What's with the long face?"
Orca calls out from across the counter.
"……The stew's good."
"Well, thanks."
Orca laughs and goes to check on the pot.
Ash keeps his spoon moving.
But—a small thorn remains lodged deep in his chest.
Late night at Orca's Inn. The last customer has gone, and silence settles over the establishment.
Only Ash remains, still seated at the counter.
An empty deep dish, and cold tea.
(*The miasma is spreading.*)
In his head, dots connect. The investigation request for the underground tomb. The abnormal miasma concentration in the abandoned mine. And the guild reports that monster spillover from dungeons has been increasing these past few years.
(*Is it all connected?*)
Ash lets out a small breath.
"……Well, whatever."
His catchphrase.
Ash stands and places a single copper coin on the counter. Payment for the cold tea.
But—his hand stops just as he reaches for the door.
Without turning around, he murmurs into the darkened room.
"……The m
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