Reborn as an Adventurer: I Gain a Skill From Every Monster I Eat

Chapter 82: Chapter 82 — A Familiar Face

The posting caught Arlen’s attention less for its content than for the name attached to it — Halvard, the quiet Rank D warrior from the timber camp job, had apparently requested him specifically for a new contract rather than posting it openly on the general board.

Personal Request — Halvard requests Arlen’s assistance on escort/subjugation work near Ironpeak Hills. Rank 3 threat confirmed, moderate danger, three-day estimated duration. Reward: 70 Silver.

Arlen found Halvard at the guild hall that same afternoon, reviewing supply notes with the same economical focus Arlen remembered from their shared work months earlier.

”Heard you handled yourself well on the northern survey,” Halvard said, by way of greeting. ”And Ashford’s Crossing before that. You’ve been busy.”

”Trying to make good use of the time,” Arlen said. ”What’s this Ironpeak job?”

”Mining consortium’s had trouble with a Rank 3 rock-hide badger disrupting their operations — burrows through the tunnel supports, brings down whole sections if it’s not dealt with properly. Wanted someone who could handle Aura work reliably, given the creature’s apparently resistant to ordinary picks and blasting charges alike.” Halvard set his notes aside. ”Figured I’d ask you directly, given how well the treant job went once we adapted properly.”

”I’m in.”

They set out the following morning, the journey toward Ironpeak Hills considerably shorter than Arlen’s recent, more extensive travels — a day and a half at a steady pace, the terrain shifting gradually from familiar forest into the rockier, more elevated ground Arlen remembered vaguely from Bram’s old stories about the region’s mining operations.

”You’ve changed since the treant job,” Halvard observed, on their first evening making camp. ”More settled. Whatever you’ve been doing these past months, it’s served you well.”

”Lots of travel,” Arlen said. ”Ashford’s Crossing taught me things I couldn’t have learned staying close to home. The northern survey too, in its own way.”

”I noticed you took on Crimson Jackals’ work while Dorn was down.” Halvard’s tone carried no particular weight beyond simple observation, though Arlen caught something faintly knowing in his expression regardless. ”Fennis speaks well of you, from what little she’s mentioned.”

”We work well together,” Arlen said, echoing the same careful, honest deflection he and Fennis had settled on together.

Halvard didn’t press further, simply nodding and returning his attention to the evening’s modest meal preparations, and Arlen found himself, not for the first time, grateful for the particular discretion that seemed to characterize the guild’s more experienced adventurers — genuine curiosity tempered by respect for what wasn’t explicitly offered.

They reached the mining consortium’s primary settlement the following afternoon, a modest but bustling operation built into the base of Ironpeak Hills proper, the air carrying the distinct smell of stone dust and the steady, rhythmic sound of ongoing excavation work echoing from the tunnels beyond.

The consortium’s foreman, a stocky woman named Greta with hands permanently stained gray from years of mining work, met them with the same weary relief Arlen had come to recognize from clients whose problems had finally, genuinely, reached proper guild attention.

”Three tunnel collapses in the past month,” she explained, leading them toward the operation’s primary entrance. ”Lost two men to injuries, thankfully nothing worse, but we’ve had to abandon our most productive vein entirely until something’s done about the creature causing it.”

”Rock-hide badger,” Halvard said. ”Confirmed sighting?”

”More than one. Big thing, easily the size of a grown man, hide like solid stone from what our miners describe. Picks barely scratch it, and we’re not about to risk blasting charges this deep without proper containment — collapse the wrong section, and we lose the whole operation.”

Arlen studied the tunnel entrance with careful attention, calling on Hawk’s Eye to examine the structural damage visible even from the surface. ”How deep does it typically strike?”

”Middle sections, mostly. Deep enough that reaching it means proper tunnel work, not just a quick strike and retreat.”

They spent the remainder of that day preparing carefully, Greta providing detailed maps of the tunnel system alongside careful notes on where the creature had most recently been active, and Arlen found himself, working alongside Halvard through the preparation, appreciating anew the particular value of careful, methodical planning before any dangerous engagement.

”Aura should manage the hide resistance, same principle as the treant,” Halvard said, reviewing the maps by lamplight. ”Confined tunnel space changes the dynamic, though. Less room to maneuver, less room for your... elemental techniques to work without risking structural damage.”

”I’ll adapt,” Arlen said, already turning over the practical implications of fighting in confined stone corridors rather than open forest terrain.

They descended into the tunnels the following morning, Greta providing two experienced miners as guides through the system’s more confusing passages, and Arlen found the underground terrain genuinely disorienting despite his growing familiarity with unfamiliar environments — the air thick and close, the only light coming from carefully rationed lanterns, every sound amplified and distorted by the stone walls pressing close on every side.

”Careful here,” one of the miners warned, indicating a section where the tunnel’s support beams showed clear signs of recent stress. ”This is close to where the last collapse happened.”

Arlen called on Earthen Grip as they proceeded, pressing his palm briefly against the tunnel wall and finding, with quiet satisfaction, that the ability translated remarkably well to this confined, stone-heavy environment — vibrations traveling clearly through the rock, giving him a rough sense of movement and disturbance considerably deeper in the tunnel system than his ordinary senses could have managed.

”Something’s moving,” he said quietly, after several minutes of careful attention. ”Deep, maybe two hundred yards further in. Large, from the weight of it.”

Halvard nodded, drawing his blade with careful, deliberate motion. ”Guides, fall back to the last junction. We’ll signal if we need retreat support.”

The miners withdrew without argument, and Arlen and Halvard advanced together through the narrowing tunnel, the sense of confined danger growing more pronounced with every careful step forward.

The creature announced itself with a sudden, violent tremor through the stone floor, and moments later, the tunnel wall ahead of them simply exploded outward in a shower of rock and dust, the rock-hide badger emerging with a speed that belied its evident bulk — easily as large as Greta had described, its hide carrying a rough, mottled texture that looked, in the lamplight, disturbingly close to solid stone itself.

”Confined space,” Halvard called, already bracing. ”Watch the ceiling — don’t let a strike bring the whole section down on us!”

Arlen drew on Enduring Vitality’s steady support and met the creature’s first charge with careful, controlled footwork rather than any reckless advance, understanding immediately that this fight would demand precision over raw power given the tunnel’s dangerous confines.