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Jones was originally an orphan who had just turned twelve this year. As a commoner born on the border, he was unfortunate—his parents were killed by beastn shortly after his birth, and he survived only thanks to the help of his neighbors.

However, fortune smiled upon him when, at the age of six, he was taken as an apprentice by a passing prospector.

Sadly, happiness was short-lived. Shortly after becoming an apprentice prospector, the beastn returned.

Jones personally witnessed those accursed beastn kill his teacher, and fear paralyzed him completely.

If not for Uncle Sam, who carried him away in the nick of ti, Jones might have t the sa fate as his teacher, falling victim to the beastn’s blades.

But the Goddess of Misfortune did not forever linger over him. While he was aimlessly following his neighbors, preparing to flee to the fabled Green City, the Saintlight Vampires arrived.

He was brought to Dawn City.

From the elders' stories, Jones often heard tales of the terror of vampires and was initially terrified.

Yet, after living in Dawn City for so ti, Jones realized it was nothing like what he had imagined.

On the contrary, he found a long-lost sense of security here.

Over ti, he even stopped fearing the Saintlight Vampires, who appeared demonic with their terrifying bat-like wings during work hours.

The adults of the Saintlight Vampires always smiled and chatted with him, never scolding or looking down on him as the noble barons in his village once did.

Jones lived happily here until one day, the great Lord Kachar issued a decree seeking prospectors to explore mineral veins. This announcent changed his perspective.

Jones could read, a skill his teacher had taught him. His teacher had said that as a prospector, one must be well-versed and knowledgeable.

Though Jones didn’t fully understand the aning of those words at the ti, he still studied hard.

When he saw the notice on the bulletin board in the square, Jones secretly reported to the security squad that he was a prospector apprentice, hiding this from Uncle Sam, who had helped him escape.

To his delight, his identity as a prospector apprentice was recognized by the vampire lords, and Jones was overjoyed.

Although Uncle Sam expressed concern after hearing the news, Jones didn’t feel he had done anything wrong.

If not for Lord Kachar, they might have starved to death on the road.

This city, where he could eat his fill, live in a windproof house, and avoid being bullied, was one he loved deeply. He wanted to contribute his strength to it.

As Lord Kachar had said, Dawn City belonged to every resident, and they should all contribute to making it better.

Lord Kachar was truly a great man.

What made Jones even happier was that after reporting his profession to the vampire lords, he was recruited into the Construction Departnt under the City Hall.

By the goddess above, every departnt under the City Hall was the most coveted position in Dawn City. Just getting a job there would make countless people fight tooth and nail for it.

At least, Uncle Sam, who lived with him, would often say enviously whenever he saw the security squad: if anyone could help him join the security team, he’d offer them all his Silver Pucks.

For the notoriously stingy Uncle Sam to say such a thing was simply unbelievable.

Jones felt imnse pride in becoming a mber of a departnt under the City Hall. Especially since his monthly salary of twelve Silver Pucks thrilled him beyond asure.

He swore he had never seen so many Silver Pucks before.

When he told Uncle Sam about it, Jones noticed the envy in the other’s eyes.

Unfortunately, Uncle Sam couldn’t enter the City Hall, even after pleading with the vampire lords—it was futile.

However, the leading vampire lord promised him that if he could find a mineral vein, Uncle Sam would be assigned to the logistics team.

This made Jones incredibly happy, but he didn’t rush to tell Uncle Sam. He wanted to share the good news only after finding the vein.

Jones was confident about this. He believed he could find the vein. As his teacher had said, he was a genius—a prodigy in prospecting.

The Month of Deep Winter was bitterly cold, with snow swirling everywhere. The wind whipped the snowflakes against their faces like tiny knives, cutting into their skin painfully.

Exploring for mineral veins in such conditions was undoubtedly a grueling task.

Jones was protected by two vampire lords, accompanied also by two blacksmith uncles.

Together, they rode on the giant bats that had brought him into Dawn City, flying through the mountains.

Jones loved the feeling of sitting behind the bat, the exhilaration of flight filling him with joy.

Moreover, because the Saintlight Vampire in front of him—Lord Henner—was using a spell called Magic Shield to block the snowstorm, Jones barely felt any cold.

“Lord Henner, the color of that mountain range seems unusual. Perhaps we can go down and take a look?”

Amid their rapid flight, Jones suddenly spotted sothing intriguing.

This was the twentieth mountain they had explored today. It was a vast basin, filled with towering trees that blocked out the sky. But now, Jones noticed sothing different.

Excitedly pointing at the exposed rocks below, which weren’t covered by snow, Jones’ face lit up. These were the rocks near the strange gray forest.

His teacher had told him that the color of ore differed greatly from ordinary rocks, and by carefully distinguishing between them, one could spot the differences. The color of the rocks below wasn’t that of ordinary stone.

Jones felt his heart race. He sensed that this ti, he might have struck gold—or iron.

“All right, let’s go down and take a look.”

Henner glanced at Jones and nodded. Though they had failed countless tis over the past month, he never dismissed any potentially useful information.

His Majesty the Progenitor had specifically instructed him that ores were extrely important to the vampires, and no opportunity, no matter how slight, should be overlooked.

Using magical communication to relay instructions to the other bat-mounted vampire, the two Whispering Bats circled a few tis before slowly landing on the ground.

Because of the heavy winter snowfall, the sun hadn’t co out, so Henner’s condition, though worse than usual at night, was still manageable.

Moreover, he had five bottles of mana-infused blood in his pocket, allowing him to maintain peak performance even during the day.

At that mont, the snowfall lessened slightly. With Henner’s assistance, Jones’ small body descended from the enormous Whispering Bat.

Once on the ground, they realized the seemingly small trees they had seen from the sky were actually towering giants, fifteen blades tall, resembling sturdy stone pillars brimming with resilience.

Their gray bark was coated in thick layers of ice.

Suddenly, Jones spotted sothing, his face brimming with excitent as he ran toward the exposed rocks.

At twelve years old, his height was still small, and his figure, clad in a thick, oversized gray coat, looked even more diminutive. Trudging through the deep snow, each step left a small footprint.

With excitent written all over his face, Jones reached the rocks, picked up a piece, examined it closely, and then turned around, waving enthusiastically at the others.

“Lord Henner, Lord Henner, I found it! This is iron ore, iron ore!!”

But to Jones’ astonishnt, Henner, the other vampire lord, and the two old blacksmiths all stared in horror at sothing behind him, as if they had seen so terrifying demon.

Jones slowly turned his head and froze at the sight before him.

A humanoid creature six blades tall stood behind him.

Its massive, hairless head bore only one eye, larger than a millstone, its gray pupil exuding a chilling gaze.

Its nostrils flared upward, and due to the cold, thick mist poured out. Its slightly open mouth revealed sharp, jagged teeth capable of tearing through even a warrior’s shield.

The creature’s entire body was covered in gray, wrinkled skin, reminiscent of ancient trees grown over eons, exuding toughness.

Its limbs were muscular and powerful, with prominent bulges that radiated strength. In its right hand, it wielded a five-blade-long wooden club, its tip embedded with densely packed sharp stone shards, brimming with primal energy.

Jones swallowed hard, stamring out the na of a legendary creature.

“A… a Cyclops!!”

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