Chapter 130
Chapter 130
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 130
Chapter Title: The Voice in the Red Orb
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Westward, ever westward.
They escaped the desert and passed through two estates.
Unfortunately, it wasn't a pleasant journey.
Both estates they passed treated mages unkindly, so the estate lords sent armies under the pretext of repelling intruders.
The equipment the estate armies brought was more for subduing than killing, making their intentions easy to guess.
They probably meant to capture the mages and put them to use.
There were several clashes, all ending in victory for Arsen's group.
The estate lords' belief that they could win by deploying just a few more knights crumbled against Arsen's exceptional prowess, the mages' firepower support, and attacks bolstered by abundant relics.
Naturally, they couldn't stay in any estate or fortress.
How could they rest easy inside without massacring every last resident? And massacring them just to get some rest was out of the question.
Even now, after repelling the army sent by the estate lord, they were secretly camping in the forest.
"Ugh, I'm exhausted. How many fights have we had lately?"
Bazkal grumbled as he rolled his stiff shoulders.
That shoulder had been severed once during the daytime battle.
Arsen knew well the lingering foreign sensation after it regrew.
"Still, our skills are improving through the battles. Can't say it's all bad."
Anun smiled as he said it, but he'd suffered an eye injury in today's fight.
Fortunately, a swift healing spell restored his sight, but it had been a close call.
The other soldiers and mages had their share of major and minor wounds too. This estate's knights were numerous and no pushovers.
Arsen had slain four knights himself, allowing them to repel the attackers, but it was a miracle no one had died.
In fact, one soldier was still unconscious.
Arsen shook his head and comforted his battle-weary comrades.
"They probably won't come at us again. They lost three knights the first time and five today... That's a heavy blow even for an estate lord. Chances are high they'll just let us pass."
"A shame."
Anun said it like he was delighted.
A face that looked joyful despite the fierce fighting and injuries. He was a good comrade, but Arsen couldn't understand him at all.
In all his time as a knight in this world, through countless battles, he'd never found fighting enjoyable.
There might be a fleeting thrill in victory and survival, but slicing flesh and ending lives with a weapon was always unpleasant.
"Does Sir Anun enjoy combat?"
"Of course!"
The firm reply was so cheerful it bordered on gleeful, leaving Arsen hesitant before he asked again.
"Are all Elta people like that?"
Since Elta was his homeland and they worshipped the war god, Anun shook his head at the question.
"Truth be told, it's not the common sentiment there either. Plenty in Elta hate fighting. But if word gets out, they get called cowards, so everyone pretends otherwise."
Anun looked sheepish as he kicked a pebble at his feet.
"One of my closest comrades said the people he'd killed haunted his dreams every night. Not just enemy soldiers, but even bandits. But he fought because he was a warrior, because his comrades would die otherwise. He was braver than anyone in battle. One of the friends who died fighting the monarch. He's probably in the Hall of War Gods by now."
Anun's expression grew wistful as he spoke.
"Well, I don't know who the War God favors more, but sometimes I think it's nobler to fight out of duty despite hating it. Anyone can do what they want, but not everyone can do what they hate."
"...That's a valid point."
It was unusually philosophical coming from him.
Just then, Bazkal, who'd been listening nearby, pointed at the sky.
"Talk all the deep stuff you want, but get some shut-eye first. Night's already late. We've got marching tomorrow."
"True. And night watch."
Without a fire, regular soldiers wouldn't notice intruders, so multiple knights had to stand watch. One guarded the camp, another patrolled the perimeter on a steed to spot approaching foes.
First shift was Arsen and Rino.
"Go ahead and sleep then. I'll wake you for the switch."
"Good night."
"Thanks for the hard work, Captain."
As Bazkal and Anun headed into their tents, Arsen mounted his steed and climbed atop a rock in the camp's center.
It offered a full view of the surroundings.
Rino looked up at him.
"I'll head out first, then, Captain."
"Go."
Rino rode out on patrol, leaving Arsen alone.
In the pitch-black night without even moonlight, where ordinary people would see nothing.
But Arsen's eyes gleamed strangely, taking in the sights.
Trees rustling with leaves they'd diligently grown, summer wildflowers swaying in the night breeze, nocturnal animals enjoying the magic beasts' slumber in between.
An owl's hoot filled the silent forest.
'Reminds me of the Owl Forest.'
The massive owl flock attack wasn't even a funny memory in jest, but their time inside hadn't been bad.
The food had been delicious.
Arsen wanted to return someday and taste that cuisine again—the flavors now faded from memory.
To stay awake, he let his mind wander through random thoughts, focusing on his hearing.
Ready to detect any approach.
Then, a strange sound reached his ears.
[...Diya, where are you? Where is this? It's so dark. Anyone there? Hello?]
A young man's voice.
Arsen tried to pinpoint the source but realized he couldn't.
It was coming from within him.
Like when Eloise spoke through the earring, he even wondered if she'd lost it to someone else.
[Eli?]
[Yeah? What's up?]
The immediate reply was unmistakably Eloise's voice and tone.
Arsen sighed in relief without thinking.
[...You still up?]
"Can't sleep. What is it?"
"Just checking on you. Get some rest. You'll wear yourself out."
"Jeez, you're no fun."
Her response carried a hint of delight.
Though he couldn't see her in the women's tent, her voice suggested she was smiling.
Even after the exchange, the man's voice didn't fade.
If anything, it grew louder and more frequent.
Now he was practically whining, to an irritating degree.
'Hearing the voices of people I killed?'
It reminded him of his talk with Anun, but Arsen didn't think he was having a nightmare.
All his senses were sharp—only his hearing picked up this odd sound.
[Professor! Is the experiment over? Let me out! Professor! Where are you?]
Then, Arsen got a hunch about the sound's origin.
Something trembling faintly, an incredibly tiny vibration tickling his ear.
Drowned out by the snores and breaths of the sleeping others, but he heard it clearly.
Arsen leaped off the rock, went to his bedroll, and pulled out the expanded-space backpack.
"This?"
[Whoa, I heard a voice! Hey! Over here! Get me out!]
Arsen opened the bag and peered into the miscellaneous compartment.
Sure enough, there was a quivering red orb.
The relic from the ruins, likely an ancient artifact.
It wasn't hard to guess why it glowed now.
The magic beast core stored with it—the one that had shone purple—was now dull as a stone, drained of power.
It had absorbed the core's mana and activated.
"You?"
The orb trembled in response to Arsen's question.
[Yeah! Get me out!]
Arsen pondered if he should touch the mysterious orb or smash it with a weapon.
What if whatever soul was trapped inside seized his body on contact?
Especially if it was an ancient mage.
After a moment's thought, he used his spear-thrower to carefully scoop the orb from the bag.
It rolled on the ground, and the voice inside screamed.
[Whoa, dizzy! What are you doing?! Handle with care! There's a person in here!]
Gone was the groveling tone from moments ago; now it raged furiously.
An impressive shift in attitude.
Then, footsteps approached from afar. If not enemies, it was Rino.
Arsen grabbed a large towel from the bag, wrapped the orb, and tucked it inside his armor.
The voice complained about the darkness, but he ignored it.
Soon, Rino returned on his steed.
"Full patrol done, Captain. All clear."
"Time flies. Good work. I'll take the next round. Stand by."
"Got it!"
Arsen rode out swiftly, the black lion elegantly parting the night forest.
After several hundred meters, far from camp, he dismounted, sat on a rock, and unwrapped the towel.
The orb immediately started chattering again.
"Ah, finally I can see! Where is this? Looks like a forest. How did I end up here...?"
"Hold on. Calm down first. I'd like to start with who you are."
Whatever soul inhabited this orb, it was undeniably talkative and willful.
Ignoring Arsen completely, the voice barraged on with its own questions.
"But who are you? Professor Yerico's son? You're too handsome to be his kid. Where is he? And what's with that armor? The imperial crest looks Ahital-style—wearing that casually could get you in trouble..."
"I don't know any Professor Yerico, and I'd appreciate you hearing my questions too if we want a satisfying talk."
Regrettably, Arsen's polite suggestion was ignored.
The orb rambled on with its self-centered stories and questions, showing no interest in answering.
When words fail, force prevails.
Arsen grabbed the axe tied to his steed.
Its massive blade gleamed menacingly, illuminating his face.
"Answer my questions first, unless you want to shatter."
[What? That's insane... Breaking the orb could kill me for real! Wait, that axe, that armor—you're not...]
It fell silent mid-sentence, the trembling stopping.
Seconds later, the orb spoke in disbelief.
[You're a combat doll, aren't you?]
"Seems that's what you call them."
[Holy crap, which workshop made you? Human-like pupils are illegal...!]
Whoosh—the wind whistled as the axe swung.
It halted razor-thin, mere centimeters from the orb.
Since it recognized his face, it must observe externally and see this too.
Sure enough, the next voice trembled.
People called that emotion fear.
[Hey... I'm human in here, you know? Ever hear of the Combat Doll Accords? Don't kill civilians...]
Arsen had already confirmed this voice didn't respond to gentle words, so he commanded harshly.
"Sorry, I don't know any accords. Tell me now: what are you?"