Chapter 93: The Saltpeter Mine

By crossing north of the abandoned watchtower where the ogres had made their lair and scaling several ridges, Rio finally reached what Fisha called the Great Marsh.

It was not great at all, only a small basin tucked away deep in the mountains, no larger than two soccer fields. It looked like a pond about to run dry, exposing the thick sludge beneath and a few scattered shallow pools.

The mud was bubbling. A heavy layer of white frost had formed over it, and the remains of several large animals could be seen in and out of sight.

But with the temperature as it was, that was clearly not frost. Rio was just about to bend down for a closer look when Fisha called out from behind him, "Alligators!"

Rio studied it carefully for a long while before finally noticing that, in the shallow water ahead, there seemed to be several pieces of deadwood sunk beneath the surface.

Fisha handed him the powder barrel. "Boom!"

"?"

Rio held the explosive barrel in both hands and stared at Fisha.

She met his gaze with innocent, wide-eyed composure.

A cluster of kobolds was staring at him just as eagerly, waiting to witness the greatness of this human hero.

But such a thing was no challenge for Rio. He drew his dagger, cut a large sheet of bark from a nearby dead tree, and fashioned it into a little boat.

He set the powder barrel aboard, then slowly pushed it out onto the water.

Rio retreated to a safe distance, took a kobold crossbow, wrapped an oiled cloth around the bolt, and lit it. Watching the bark boat drift seven or eight meters away, he pulled the trigger.

A violent explosion roared out. Smoke billowed, water sprayed skyward, and when all was calm again, two giant alligators rolled belly-up to the surface.

Not far away, seven or eight more dark ripples were already darting off into the distance.

Before Rio could even savor his triumph, Fisha shouted and charged ahead. "Now! Forward!"

"Don't..." Rio had no time to stop her. A whole mass of dog-headed folk had already swarmed after Fisha and surged into the mire.

All he could do was follow carefully behind them, stepping where the kobolds had stepped before.

The mire was shallower than expected, only reaching Rio's knees. For the kobolds, though, it came up to their hips. Some of the heavier ones, if they missed a step, would sink all the way to their waists.

Movement through such mud was painfully difficult for the kobolds. Before they had pushed even fifty meters, many of them could no longer keep their balance and were swallowed by the muck, leaving only their heads above the surface, whining plaintively.

Rio brought up the rear, pulling the pitiful kobolds out one by one as though he were uprooting radishes.

Only after he had rescued each of them three times did the party finally make it across the marsh.

Standing on the dry ground beyond it, Rio's anger still had not subsided. He glared at Fisha. "How could you charge in so recklessly? How are we supposed to get back now?"

They had used up their last barrel of explosives. Once those giant alligators calmed down and swam back, they would seal off the way they had come.

Fisha brushed mud from her clothes and soothed him, saying, "Don't worry, we can go back from this side!"

She pointed, and Rio only then noticed a narrow path running right beside the marsh, leading straight back the way they had come.

Though the natural trail was well hidden, it was not so hidden that it could not be found.

Given three seconds to observe and think, Rio could have spotted it immediately instead of trying to force his way through the marsh.

"Then why didn't we come this way in the first place?!"

Fisha tilted her head and thought about it. "Oh, right!"

Rio clutched his head and wept bitterly, swearing that he would never go out with Fisha again.

He felt as though he were a primary school homeroom teacher taking his class on a field trip, and not just any class, but the most mischievous one in the school.

The kobolds around him, each covered in mud, had no idea that a single one of Fisha's blind commands had nearly brought them all to ruin. They were still immersed in the heroic exhilaration of storming the alligator pool.

If this had been the original Rio, he would have dragged these dogs right back into the marsh.

But the scenery on the far side of the marsh left him no time to argue with Fisha.

Here, the frost on the ground was even thicker, and a nearly dried-up stream appeared before Rio's eyes.

The entire streambed was almost completely covered in white and translucent crystalline dust, stretching all the way to the white cliff at its upper end.

It was a cliff made of crystal deposits of all kinds.

After careful inspection, Rio realized this was an open-air niter mine, with abundant rock salt and gypsum alongside it.

The kobolds sprang into action. Some drew out their pickaxes and began clanging away at the niter cliff, while others sniffed around the ground and the corners, gathering pure grains of rock salt.

Impure rock salt was casually discarded. In the kobolds' simple understanding, colored salt meant poison.

Rio was thrilled as well. Whether it was a rich niter deposit or the associated rock salt and gypsum, all of it was valuable.

Niter was not only used to make black powder, but also to produce ice.

As for rock salt, there was no need to even mention it. Pure rock salt was a naturally excellent table salt.

Although the price of salt in Ethenport was not as high as Rio had expected, even the cheapest coarse salt was worth as much as wheat.

And beyond eating, the Riverbend territories needed vast amounts of salt for pickling fish and curing meat, which was another considerable expense.

As for gypsum, Rio immediately thought of silky tofu and the miracle of orthopedic casts.

While supervising the kobolds' mining, Fisha explained to Rio, "This place is the Salt Tribe's territory. In the past, we could only come secretly."

"Salt Tribe?"

"The other kobold clan, I defeated them!" Fisha waved her whip with great spirit. "The Salt Tribe uses the salt here to trade for our iron. Very expensive! I beat them, so it's all mine!"

Rio could hardly imagine how she had managed to lead her dogs across mountains and rivers this far, let alone win a battle.

At first glance, it was obvious she had put every point she had into administration.

The sort of person who could get herself killed by her own hand the moment she stepped out of the kobold valley.

Seeing Rio regard her with suspicious eyes, Fisha thought he had some other scheme in mind. She spread her arms wide and blocked the cliff, declaring her territorial rights in a loud voice: "It's all mine!"

"Fine, fine, it's all yours." Rio tossed the three kinds of ore he had collected to her and said, "These three, just mine them and haul them back. Riverbend will buy as much as you can bring."

"You can buy the ore, yes, but I don't want wheat!"

Rio became curious. "Then what do you want?"

No grain? Could she want weapons? Armor? Technology?

The clever Fisha, king of the kobolds, held salt and iron in her hands. A true child of destiny. Was she finally about to embark on the road to becoming a great warlord?

"I want wheat cakes! One basket of ore, five wheat cakes! No—ten!"

Clutching the ore tightly, Fisha barked out a price she considered high, then looked at Rio nervously, waiting for his counteroffer.

She had not yet secretly learned Riverbend's millstone techniques or wheat-cake recipes.

The big pots they used to boil their grain did not even remove the husks, much less grind the grain into flour.

If ordinary people ate such stuff, even adults would bloat themselves to death. Only kobolds had digestive systems sturdy enough for it.

So in the kobold valley, wheat cakes were food for the upper class.

Rio sighed and waved a hand. "Let's talk about it when we get back."

After the kobolds finished gathering the niter and rock salt, the party followed the narrow path around the marsh and returned the way they had come. Fisha was still trying to persuade Rio to agree to the deal.

"The Great Marsh, very dangerous, kobolds, not easy!"

"One basket of ore, ten wheat cakes, very fair!"