Chapter 127
Chapter 127
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 127
Chapter Title: The Combat Dolls
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Oh! You’re back? Did you find something?”
As Arsen returned, Marun greeted him with a bright smile. So pure and cheerful it bordered on foolish.
That smile brought back Arsen’s earlier conversation with Latis, the elder of the Starblind.
‘Which side is Marun on?’
It was a question he’d asked upon learning of the factional infighting within the Starblind.
If Marun belonged to the faction plotting to imprison Arsen, he’d need to stay on guard at all times—and strike first before any betrayal could catch him off guard.
They were comrades who’d adventured together for so long, lives entrusted to one another, but what loyalty could there be to a comrade hiding a dagger in their gut?
In the worst case, if one of them slipped poison into a meal, the entire party would be doomed.
In response to Arsen’s question, Latis had shaken his head.
‘Marun doesn’t belong to any faction. Or rather... neither side dares try to recruit him.’
According to him, Marun held a highly respected position as the Starblind’s one and only magic knight.
There were no formalized ranks among them, but he was seen as standing just below the elders.
The problem was his childlike innocence and levity—he wasn’t the type to think deeply about politics or back any side.
‘Surprising. A knight of his caliber, and all.’
‘He must not have told you how he became a knight.’
Marun’s origin story as the sole magic knight was absurd: during training, he’d tumbled off a treacherous cliff, separated from his squad, barely clinging to life until he somehow awoke as a knight.
Before that, he’d been treated like a runt even among the Starblind’s warrior unit, training alongside the other detachment members.
‘You don’t need to worry about Marun or the detachment’s warriors. They’re off receiving separate training, isolated from the group’s politics.’
‘Understood. Thank you for the advice.’
It was a favorable outcome for Arsen.
He wasn’t a psychopath, after all—he had no desire to kill the comrades he’d shared meals with.
“I found something.”
“Huh?”
As Marun responded in surprise, Arsen pulled a book from his backpack.
The diary left by the ruins’ owner—or perhaps a researcher.
After a brief separation from the other mages, he handed it over, and Marun calmly flipped through it.
After dozens of seconds of intense scrutiny, Marun let out a groan.
“Hmm...”
“Anything stand out?”
Arsen had asked because Marun, as a Starblind executive, likely knew more than he did—but the reply was unexpected.
“No, the handwriting’s so bad it’s hard to make out.”
“Ah.”
It was true: unless you were an avid reader, the scrawl was nearly illegible.
The disappointment was short-lived. Arsen recited the contents like a picture book.
When the topic turned to combat dolls, Marun’s face hardened.
“Oh, that’s...”
Come to think of it, Marun didn’t know Arsen had guessed their nature and confirmed it with Elder Latis.
Arsen gave a very brief explanation.
“I heard about the combat dolls from Elder Latis.”
“Really? Then...”
His awkward demeanor suggested he knew full well how hard it was for others to understand controlling knights.
“We’ll see them ourselves later and judge. So, what do you think those combat dolls coming from behind are?”
“Huh? Well... I’m not sure. Truth is, handling combat dolls—or knights—is the elders’ domain.”
Marun shook his head, claiming he knew little about it.
Arsen watched closely to see if he was hiding something, but that guileless face showed no suspicion.
“No helping it, then. Let’s get moving. We’ve rested enough.”
* * *
Rip, smash, slash, fry, burn, freeze.
With their stamina restored from the break, they advanced, destroying every enemy in sight with varied methods.
The creatures they encountered began to change form as they went deeper.
They grew smaller but more agile, started showing bilateral symmetry, and lost grotesque, unnecessary features like protruding veins or misplaced appendages.
Instead, more experimental shapes and functions appeared.
“Ugh!”
A long tentacle shot out like a spear, aiming for his life.
Arsen twisted his head to dodge while cleaving the incoming tentacle with his axe.
Surprisingly, it withstood the mana-infused axe.
The tip that had seemed sharp enough to pierce steel moments ago turned soft like marshmallow, cushioning the blow.
The foe was a monster made entirely of such tentacles.
Physical attacks wouldn’t kill it easily.
But non-physical ones could break it with ease.
“Fire incoming! Duck low!”
At the signal, he crouched, and a fireball streaked over his upper body into the tentacle.
It ignited fiercely, as if oil had been poured on flames.
An unnatural reaction—the secretion coating the tentacles was flammable, apparently.
The creature’s own magic resistance was negligible too.
Catching his breath as the tentacle burned, Arsen heard Marun swagger up from behind.
“No enemy’s got both great physical durability and magic resistance.”
As Marun said, every foe could be tackled one way or the other: physical or magic.
Occasionally, specimens shrugged off a few spells like knights would, but they weren’t physically exceptional and crumbled under Arsen’s axe swings.
Conversely, those shrugging off physical hits with odd abilities fell to magic effortlessly.
“Guess fulfilling both was too tough for their creators.”
“Hmm...”
They sometimes poked through dead specimens’ corpses for weaknesses, but it yielded little useful data.
Not just the outer appearance—vital organs were haphazardly placed too. The wildest, in Arsen’s view, had its brain in the right thigh and heart in the left forepaw pad.
He couldn’t even imagine how the nervous and cardiovascular systems were wired.
“Alright, on to the next room. Hope it’s the last.”
Muttering that, he opened the door.
Tension etched everyone’s faces.
The door was exceptionally large and ornate, hinting at something special.
* * *
The final room’s scene felt oddly familiar.
Like the colosseums from old movies.
The round arena and tiered spectator stands evoked an ancient gladiator pit, a den of sin thriving on victims’ blood.
In the arena’s center, figures wandered aimlessly.
Or were they truly human?
Combat dolls—that’s what they were probably called.
Ranging from 1.5 to 2.5 meters, varied in build and looks, each clad in ornate clothes that made them distinctive.
Frilly dresses, tunics, butler-like tailcoats, even bare-chested savage forms.
From afar, they looked unmistakably human, but closer inspection revealed key differences.
First, the eyes: solid-colored without whites, gleaming like glass beads.
Their skin was flawlessly smooth, hairless except the head, porcelain-like. Faces and figures sculpted to perfection.
Human-like yet distinctly other, crossing the uncanny valley into the uncanny.
‘No wonder they’re called dolls.’
What else to name such flawlessly carved human-shaped beings?
Then, a mage’s dazed murmur drifted over.
“So beautiful...”
At that whisper, the wandering dolls turned as one. Robotic.
And began approaching.
Slowly, like cats stalking prey.
“Huh?”
Amusingly, everyone had let their guard down in that moment.
Because they looked human at a glance—and beautiful.
A foolish lapse, but humans were fools ruled by such preconceptions.
Before regret could set in, the dolls charged en masse.
“Aaaahhh—!”
“Haaaaahhh—!”
Their roaring battle cries as they lunged were indistinguishable from human voices—chillingly so.
Marun bellowed in response.
“Attack!”
Lightning bolts shot out instantly, but the white flashes fizzled on contact.
Classic symptom of hitting a high magic-resistant target.
Their resistance was at least knight-level, clearly.
Magic was useless against knights—that was common knowledge—so the mages sighed in despair.
‘What speed!’
The dolls’ charge was horrifyingly fast, surpassing normal humans and even knights.
Comparable to Arsen’s.
In other words, over a dozen unarmed knights matching Arsen’s physical prowess.
“Mages, fall back! Sir Marun, guard the rear!”
One small mercy.
Every doll wore fancy clothes but no proper weapons or armor.
Their charging posture suggested no training in combat either.
To win a fight, maximize your advantages over the enemy.
Here, that meant armament and knightly skill—the human strengths honed against beasts.
First, Arsen swung his axe at the oncoming foes. A ferocious blow to cleave any it touched.
But it ducked nimbly. Feline grace, aided by its small frame.
Impressed by the reflexes yet tracking it with accelerated thought, Arsen kicked the bowed head.
“Ack!”
The struck doll resembled a late-teens girl: black twin braids, blue eyes like Eloise’s.
Arsen cursed inwardly without realizing.
‘Damn it.’
Nose and teeth shattered by the kick, yet it swung a fist at Arsen unperturbed.
Slender white fingers clenched into a fist—seemingly harmless.
But on hitting his raised guard, a protective spell triggered.
Meaning it would’ve dented his armor bare.
“Urk!”
Seizing the moment as the spell repelled it, Arsen whipped his axe hand.
The doll’s body split with her dress, spewing blue smoke.
Inside: disgustingly human-like bones and flesh.
‘One down...’
No time to relax. More enemies remained.
Next came a burly male in a fine suit—huge even by Arsen’s standards.
Muscular build fitting its look; strongest among dolls, apparently.
Arsen’s full-force kick only twisted its face, staggering it back a few steps.
Behind it, a slightly smaller male doll.
Both had sculpted faces contorted in rage.
Eyes of different colors gleamed like glass.
“Hup!”
Arsen inhaled deeply, oxygenating his body, then swung the axe horizontally.
The lead brute raised both arms to block, but the massive blade mercilessly severed them.
Arms flailing like a fresh-caught fish, spewing smoke.
“Kraaaah!”
A scream—human identical.
Their voices were human too. Each one sparked the delusion they might converse.
Of course, nonsense.
Attacking the brute exposed his back—but it was intentional.
The protective spell from the ruined city, fully recharged.
Even Arsen with a weapon couldn’t pierce it easily; it’d block a few bare punches.
But the youth-shaped doll ignored him, charging the mages.
“What?”
“It’s coming! S-Sir Marun!”
Shock brief, Arsen kicked away another exploiting the gap, then beheaded the brute.
Blue mist sprayed like blood.
Ignoring it, Arsen stepped back to claim a defensible spot against the horde.
Then, a scream from behind.
“Kwaaaahhh!”
Reflexively, he turned—dangerous without his thought-acceleration.
Thanks to it, he saw a mage’s head torn off.
The intruder doll clutched it, beaming the world’s happiest smile.
“Juran!”
Marun’s desperate cry went unanswered; the headless body couldn’t reply.
Anger surging, Arsen analyzed the charging dolls.
‘They’re not interested in me.’
From the prior exchange, their targets weren’t him.
They attacked only to bypass him blocking the door—any gap, and they ignored him for the mages.
Not strategic targeting of the weak.
Even losing limbs, their frenzy to kill mages first screamed madness.
Living beings, yet acting so mechanically.
‘Why? Because I’m the inheritor? Or because they’re mages?’
“Urk! Heuk!”
Marun’s frantic cry rang out.
He writhed pinned by that doll.
His glaive haft kept it at bay—for now—but his trembling form screamed peril.
His foe matched Arsen physically; Marun, weak even among knights, faced a human-beast gap.
Anyone could see: Marun was seconds from death.
Without Arsen’s aid, he’d be gone.
‘Burst!’
Arsen swept his axe wide, forcing back the door-blocking dolls, then hurled a javelin from his back.
Mana-charged, triggering its embedded spell.
The spear pierced the doll’s side as it went for Marun’s throat.
“Kwaaaah—!”
Agonized scream.
Not even a second later, it exploded.
“Whew.”
Chunks flew everywhere.
Even with anti-magic, internal blasts proved too much.
Marun below was in the radius too, but his relic armor held.
“Gahk, heuk...”
Throat crushed, he gulped air desperately.
Sadly, no time for Arsen to watch.
Two more dolls had slipped through, targeting mages.
Marun had held seconds as a knight; the others wouldn’t resist.
Arsen kicked one aside, blocking the next.