Chapter 102: The Bear Goes to Look at the Tunnel

Chapter 102:
The Bear Goes to Look at the Tunnel

 

THE CARRIAGES CLATTERED to a stop at the tunnel site, and Cliff gave the order for us to disembark. Unlike me, it seemed Cliff memorized the way to the tunnel. Good for him, right? I’m sure I’d get it one of these days. Maybe next time.

“We’ll walk from here.” Cliff headed toward the tunnel after stepping out of the carriage, taking the lead. Felt weird, having the nobleman lead the way. I mean, only three of us knew where the tunnel was (including me, obviously) but it didn’t seem like a great idea to have Cliff, incredibly powerful politics guy, head into the forest first. Atola must have felt that way too since she moved to take the lead, but Cliff blocked her.

“Yuna is here,” he said. “It’s fine.”

Oh. He really did have a lot of faith in me, didn’t he? If only he said it plainly…

“You really trust Yuna,” said Atola.

“On practically any subject, there’s not a soul I trust more.”

“Practically any subject?”

Cliff gave a little sideways nod in my direction. “Fashion sense.”

Was that a compliment or a burn? I couldn’t argue with either, so I just wished to myself that he’d shut up. Then again, he was relying on me and all, so I used my detection skill to check out our surroundings.

Scanner indicated no signals—no monsters, no people—so I let Cliff keep going his merry way.

 

We arrived at the tunnel entrance proper without incident. Atola let out this huge gasp when she saw it, like she could hardly believe it was real. “Does this tunnel really connect all the way to Crimonia?” she asked, peering in.

“That may be overstating it,” said Cliff. “It leads to where Crimonia is.”

“It’s so dark.”

“Yes—as I said, we’ll need to install light mana gems.”

“And, Cliff, we’ll also need wind mana gems to circulate the air like in the mines, along with some earth mana gems to strengthen the tunnel walls,” said Milaine.

The faces of the five representatives from Mileela clouded over at that.

Cliff noticed. “As I said before, we will supply the mana gems, so you can rest easy. That won’t be the seaport’s responsibility.”

“Are you sure? That’s so much, although…” Atola sighed. “Even if you did ask us to cover the costs, the seaport doesn’t have that kind of money. Not right now.”

“Rare to find anyone who does, my town included. We’ll collect what we can’t afford outright from the tunnel’s toll. With the tunnel here, people will start moving between the towns.” Cliff shot me a look. “I’m not talking about anyone in particular when I say this, but I’m sure people will travel to Crimonia through this tunnel to sell seafood, and that’s just one group. You’ll have visitors who want to see the ocean, and all kinds of reasons. The more traffic, the more revenue.”

“You say people will come just to see the ocean?” The residents of Mileela didn’t seem to quite grasp why anyone would travel just to see the ocean. Well, the locals probably took the picturesque scenery for granted.

“People born and raised in the seaport might not understand it,” said Cliff, “but people who have never seen the ocean would assuredly pay money for the opportunity.”

“There are people like that?” The old men tilted their heads. They seemed unconvinced.

“Haven’t you felt the desire to see Crimonia?”

“Well…I certainly have.”

“I have.”

“It’s the same thing. You should expect a lot of visitors to your seaport, but keep in mind that it may bring its share of commotion. You might get some colorful characters. All good things have their cost, and while you will gain many things, you should assume you’ll lose as well. That being said, I have no intention of making you regret your decision to choose me. I merely ask that you do all that you can to do right by the people of this seaport.”

“Lord Cliff…”

“Once this tunnel is complete, the people will come. Until then, increase the number of guards you have, employ adventurers, and bolster public order. I will, of course, lend you money and people from our side. Just think of the toll as future capital to cover that.”

“Do you really think that many people will come?”

“I’m sure of it. If I wasn’t sure of it, that would put me in a tight spot.”

The old guys looked dubious, but Cliff had my vote.

I made the tunnel just for myself, barely giving it a second thought, but…the more Cliff talked about it, the more I thought about how many problems it might cause for the town. Word would spread, and people would flock to the quiet seaport, bringing trouble would with them, for sure. Cliff already had plans for dealing with it. I didn’t know what else I expected from a lord who managed a town. He was looking one step ahead…or maybe he was just bothering to think before he acted.

“Milaine and I will give you the details of our plan. We’ll discuss what’s possible and what’s not the next time we talk.”

“Yes.” Atola and the old men nodded. Were things really okay? The old guy gang made me wonder, somehow.

“First, we’ll expand the seaport up to this tunnel.”

“Expand it?”

“It’s a considerable distance from here to the entrance of the seaport. We’ll clear the trees and install an outpost here. We can keep guard, then, over the people coming along the coastal road and from the tunnel simultaneously. Stationing guards in two places would be a waste of money and personnel when those two points are so close.”

“I suppose we’d certainly need a guard in front of the tunnel,” an elder said.

“It would mean trouble if monsters or bandits set themselves up in there,” another mused.

“We also need inns and a place to park the carriages,” said Cliff, “so that’d kill two birds with one stone.”

“Inns?”

“People will come here and you must be prepared for it. You’ll need places for them to rest, places for their carriages, places for them to trade and perhaps places for them to settle. If that happens, clearing out land would help. Without doing so, I’m not sure you have the capacity.”

“Do you really think that many people will come?”

All right, gramps, haven’t you gone off about this already? Bunch of old dudes repeating the same thing, again and again, not listening to a word Cliff said.

“They will come!” said Cliff. “There’s no doubt about it—this won’t be a quiet town anymore. If you’re unhappy about that,” he added, giving me a meaningful look, “blame the bear for making the tunnel.”

Wow. Top ten all-time betrayals, and for what? I did nothing wrong.

“But,” Cliff continued, “this isn’t a bad thing. I have a rich future in mind for the seaport, for Crimonia and for Mileela.” And you know what? I could believe him. Guy had a good sense of direction. “We must keep pushing forward. If you come to a standstill, that’s where things end. Push forward and choose a good path.”

The old guy gang nodded along with that. “I suppose you’re right. Heh. Things do change quite a bit, don’t they? Sitting in a rut can get comfortable when your joints get old.”

“I trust that you wish the best for your seaport’s future. Please, choose to do what makes that possible.”

Now that’s a lordly kind of speech. Good on him.

 

“We should discuss how the tunnel will be used next. While it’s technically wide enough for two carriages to pass each other, as a fundamental rule I think we’ll alternate traffic by even and odd days. Any truly large carriages would block the tunnel, which would be a nightmare for everyone involved. We’ll both have to manage that together.”

“Right.”

“And, oh, we’ll need to regulate when the tunnel can be entered base on travel time and the like. Since we, ah, came through on the giant magical bears, we’re not exactly sure about travel times, but we can measure that and figure out when to cut off traffic at night.”

“What should we do if a carriage breaks down inside the tunnel?”

“You can just do a final pass through after you close off the tunnel entrance. It shouldn’t take much time if you use horses. If someone lost a wheel or some such thing, the person can make a report on it at the nearby outpost.”

“I suppose that would take care of things…”

“But we’re getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we? No, we must install mana gems before anyone can travel through it. Please assume all of this is purely provisional. We’re sure to run into unforeseen problems as we put our plans into practice, so what I say is by no means absolute. If there’s anything unreasonable, inconvenient, or contradictory about what I’ve proposed, please tell me.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t know what I don’t know, and we all make mistakes.”

He’d grown so weirdly quiet there, like he was talking to himself…wait, was he? Was that about the orphanage? He’d come all the way to my house just to apologize after that mess.

A nobleman who recognized his mistakes, eh? A lot of the nobles I knew from novels and manga were pompous jerks who looked down on the population. Maybe they were just written that way to shake up the story, or maybe Cliff really was the exception. Either way, I much preferred nobles like Cliff.

“You look like you want to say something.” Cliff noticed me looking at him, just the slightest of scowls on his face.

“You’re acting pretty lordly.”

“Because I am a lord!” said Cliff, giving my head a little poke.

Whoa, hold up, I wasn’t making fun of him. I tried to say something nice. What’d he do that for?

And onto the nittier, grittier details—Cliff explaining his thoughts, everyone chewing on them, sharing opinions and hashing stuff out. While everyone talked, I silently checked that our surroundings were safe. We had some pretty old dudes here, and I didn’t even want to think of how nasty a monster attack could be.

“I feel like we’ve covered the basics,” said Cliff finally. “Anything else, feel free to address later.”

Old man Kuro and the others came over to me a moment later. “Lass, thank you for everything. Subduing the bandits, slaying that kraken, and even bringing Lord Cliff to us? You’re a wonder, girl.”

“Ah, and thank you for making this tunnel so we can make contact with Crimonia! I cannot begin to express my gratitude—none of us can!”

“Really, our deepest thank yous.”

Argh, and now the old men were thanking me too? I couldn’t handle it. Too many people, too embarrassing, no thank you to all the thank yous. “Uh, well, I just slapped that tunnel together, so, you know what? Don’t worry about it.”

Cliff snorted—had he been listening in? “If a tunneling expert heard you saying you ‘slapped that tunnel together,’ he’d give you a piece of his mind.”

What?! I just said that so the old men would chill for just a few second, maybe even one second. I’d actually been super deliberate about making the tunnel. Big enough for carriages, taking elevation differences into account to make sure the inclines were smooth. If I’d just planned for slightly bigger carriages, it would’ve been a perfect example of tunneling excellence.

Okay, yes, I had absolutely gotten bored of the monotony partway through and made the rest of the tunnel while humming to myself.

“While we’re at it, lass,” one of the interchangeable old men added, “I’d like to ask you for a favor. Could you make a stone statue of a bear by the tunnel entrance?”

“A stone bear?” That seemed a little…sudden.

“Like the ones you left after defeating the kraken, you see. I’d like to make sure we do not forget to whom we should be grateful—the maker of this tunnel, and the slayer of monsters. We will not live forever, so we must make sure the future townspeople do not forget. Please, would you make us a bear statue?”

Uh, was he asking me to make a statue of a bear (representing yours truly) to make sure the bear (me, of all people) would go down in history forever? That seemed like an awful lot to ask.

“Right you are,” said Cliff, smiling ear-to-ear and nodding along. “I think that’s an excellent idea.” He absolutely enjoyed this. “Also, why don’t you go to the other entrance and put up a Yuna—I mean, a bear—there?”

No way. I definitely misheard him. Had he really equated me—human girl, in case you’re still wondering—to a bear? “You’re joking.”

The old guy gang looked dead serious.

“Also,” Cliff continued, smiling broadly, “the tunnel will need a name. I will christen it on the spot.”

Oh no. He wouldn’t.

“How do you like ‘Bear Tunnel?’”

I was pretty sure this was what you’d call a literal jaw-dropping remark.

“That’s a good name,” said the old men.

“Splendid.”

“We can express our gratitude to the young lass whenever we use the tunnel.”

“We shall pass it down for generations to come.”

“With a name like that, the townspeople will never forget it.”

Approval across the board for Cliff’s name. I could only scream in horror: “STOOOOOP!”

Cliff shook his head. “Just leave it be. We would normally name these things after the discoverer. Would you rather we call it ‘Yuna Tunnel?’”

No, I’d rather they call it a billion other things, but they wouldn’t hear a single suggestion. Then I ended up making a statue of a bear that was about half my height in front of the tunnel with my own two paws. What a disgrace.

Fine, I could deal with it. As long as they, under no circumstances whatsoever, spread that I made the tunnel.