Escape from an Ancient Civilization Ch 143

Chapter 143

Nataek, guided by the servant, quickly entered Ur’s mansion. Shown into the same room as before, the two lingered before the table, waiting for Lagab to appear.

Over the past week, the first plank of the plan Nataek and Medeus set was that Nataek would stand at the front while Medeus stayed back. It had taken no small effort to persuade Medeus, but in the end, he agreed.

“Whatever happens, do not step in front of me. Here, right here.”

Nataek tapped the floor at his feet with a fingertip and mimed drawing a line.

“It means not one step past this spot. Understood?”

“…Understood.”

Arms folded, Medeus scowled but did not object.

Oddly, since that night, he followed words better… but his face had no filter at all…

Nataek shrugged. Though Medeus had crossed blades with Lagab only once, Lagab was quicker and craftier than he looked. It couldn’t be ruled out that he might recognize Medeus. Worried, Nataek pulled Medeus’s veil up tight.

“And please, speak as little as possible. I’ll deal with him.”

“…Alright.”

Knock, knock—

Just as their negotiation ended, a presence announced itself, as if on cue.

“Yes, come—”

Thud!

Before Nataek finished, the door burst open.

“The damgar from Delam is here?”

With steps that thumped the floor, a hulking Guti entered. Nataek shot a quick glance at Medeus.

Is it Lagab?

Medeus blinked slowly once—his sign that yes, it seemed so. Sibiera stood behind Lagab.

“Yes. I brought them at once when they said they would head for Mari. They’ve brought quite rare jewels. And…”

Sibiera beckoned Lagab closer. Lagab bent and turned an ear to him, and Sibiera whispered something.

“Oh… Is that so?”

What—why the whisper?

Smothering a grimace, Nataek followed him with a smile.

“Thank you for the invitation. It is an honor to meet such an eminent host.”

“Of late the coming and going of damgar has waned; this is welcome indeed. Show the goods.”

Nataek walked to Medeus and took the bundle he carried, set the heavy mass on the table, and began untying the knots slowly. Lagab came near the table.

“How rare must these be that even the wrapping is so splendid?”

He flicked the patterned cloth with a finger and sat, never taking his eyes off Nataek. Nataek, tense, could not fail to notice.

He’s wary of a damgar he hasn’t seen before. Be casual—calm.

Watching Nataek work, Lagab jerked his chin at the cloak.

“Isn’t that cloak a nuisance? Take it off. It’s stifling even to watch.”

Nataek paused his hands. True—last time the hem had gotten in the way as he handled the ornaments.

“Don’t tell me you can’t remove it because you’ve a dagger hidden underneath?”

So he is wary.

“Nothing of the kind.”

There was no weapon hidden at his breast; insisting on the cloak would only invite suspicion. Nataek removed it at once. As his smooth arms and legs showed, a glint lit Lagab’s eyes. Nataek, turning to drape the cloak over a chair, didn’t catch it. He untied the last knots and spread the tightly wrapped ornaments over the table.

“I hope some piece pleases you.”

But Lagab’s expression was bored.

Why? These are a grade higher than last time.

“Please, take your time to choose.”

“They’re thinner fare than expected. Is this all?”

Everything displayed was treasure brought from Delam’s mansion.

No—this isn’t right. He can’t respond like this.

The aim had been to charm him with jewels, lower his guard, then press a deeper conversation for a clue that could serve as a weakness. But from the start, it grated. Flustered, Nataek forced a smile.

“There is more… Shall I fetch it? If you say what you seek, I’ll match it as best I can.”

“There’s more?”

“Yes.”

The instant he heard that, Lagab shot to his feet as if waiting for it.

“Then bring all of it to my quarters!”

“Your quarters?”

Nataek asked again, but Lagab said nothing—heaved his bulk toward the exit. As he went, Nataek’s vision flashed bright. The door thudded shut, and the system stepped him forward:

[Quest: Lagab’s Weakness] has begun.

A turn so unexpected that even cold sweat didn’t come.

He wants me to go to his quarters. And the system prompt… suggests that if I go, I can learn Lagab’s weakness?

Nataek looked to Medeus, then spoke to Sibiera.

“It seems I’ve failed to match his taste.”

“Taste…? Oh, you’ve matched it perfectly.”

Sibiera raked him up and down with a greasy smile, then jerked his chin toward the door.

“I’ll tip the servants. Take the goods and follow.”

In such times, the one who wants something loses. Nataek cursed inwardly as he tied the bundles back up.

“Oh—and you go alone to his quarters.”

“…Alone?”

“Yes. That big ox stays here.”

He hadn’t imagined this. Even facing Lagab, Nataek’s calm had rested on Medeus standing behind him. Now, to go alone—to be shut in, face to face.

As Nataek froze mid‑knot, Medeus came near. Once, by gait alone, Medeus had read that Shuran was a commander. Nataek could, by Medeus’s gait, read his mood. Those long, quick strides: anger, loaded and coming on. Nataek spun and shot him a look.

Don’t. Not here.

Feeling his eyes, Medeus frowned and slowed.

“Then I’ll go. Select only the best quality to bring,” Sibiera said, and left too.

Left alone, Medeus seized Nataek’s wrist.

“Teresi. Meeting him alone is dangerous. Don’t go.”

“Mm…”

Nataek groaned low. He, too, would rather not. But if he refused here and left—what then? He couldn’t predict the outcome. It wasn’t even certain refusal was allowed. After a moment’s silence, he set his jaw and met Medeus’s eyes.

“His quarters might be the easiest place to find his weakness. Also, if I go alone, he won’t expect me to try anything—he’ll be careless. Above all…”

Above all, a new quest had just appeared. Which meant he must not avoid going now.

“If anything happens, I’ll use the fighting you taught me. Please don’t worry too much—wait here.”

Though Medeus was his guide, Sununki was, in the end, a first‑person game of overcoming trials alone. Going alone wasn’t strange.

“Teresi…”

The hand on his wrist tightened. Nataek glanced down, then gently stroked Medeus’s hand, easing his fingers open—lacing their fingers together.

“You saw me in Uruk. I shoot well, I move well. Don’t you trust me?”

“I do. But the one you face is Lagab.”

Nataek smiled softly.

“You forget—we’re here as Delam’s damgar. Unless he wants trouble with Delam’s merchants, he won’t dare handle me roughly.”

“I’m still worried.”

In the past, he would have flatly refused; since the night of confession, Medeus voiced his feelings more plainly—even now, it struck hard. Nataek did not fail to understand him. But the fact remained: he had to go. If only he could ease Medeus’s unease a little…

Then a thought flashed: the blessing—his “luck” point.

Right. If nothing else, ask for a blessing to hedge the risk.

“Then give me your blessing—so I return without mishap.”

Without hesitation, Medeus lifted their linked hands and pressed his lips to the back as the ritual required, more devoutly than ever. With each place his red mouth touched, the ache of his worry was plain.

Unable to bend Nataek’s will, Medeus poured out kisses in proportion to the size of his fear.