Normalization (2)
Over the months, I had welcomed quite an assortment of beasts into my home.
An Owlbear cub, a terrifyingly strong sloth, a gorilla who practiced martial arts, a giraffe serving as a mount, a dragon hatchling, and a bully deer, just to name a few.
At the very least, those creatures ate, slept, and excreted like normal living things, so I could take their presence in stride. A stone statue, however, was another matter entirely. Something that had no business being alive was prancing about as if it were flesh and blood.
If I told anyone it could speak, would they believe me? They would have branded me a madman and locked me away.
"Sit."
Swish!
"Stand."
Snap!
"About-face. Forward-face. Attention!"
Swish! Snap! Clack!
Yet right before my eyes, the statue was moving with the agility of a living creature—worse, like a drill-trained soldier. To top it off, it understood my words and followed every command. Was this thing truly carved from stone?
"What on earth are you?"
"[Cain.]"
"Not your name. What are you?"
"[Aris#% #%^]"
From the garbled sounds, he seemed to be answering that he was a knight of Aris, which was nowhere near the explanation I was looking for. Bewildered, I dragged a dry hand over my face. Things were complicated enough already, and now I had a sentient statue on my hands.
Would it be easier to think of him as a robot with an uploaded consciousness?
This was a fantasy world, after all. Thinking of a magical statue as a fantasy substitute for an automaton felt fitting enough. For now, I decided to put the mystery aside and eat dinner; complicated problems were best untangled on a full stomach.
"Go back over there for now. You don't need to eat, right?"
The statue gave a solemn nod. Fortunately, it seemed I wouldn't have another freeloader draining my food stores. Letting out a quiet sigh, I stepped outside. Ludwig was in the yard, vigorously splitting firewood with rhythmic swings of his axe. I wondered how the old paladin would react once he realized the sacred relic was moving around like a living person.
I found out the answer the moment we finished our meal.
"[# Cain! Aris# ##$ $%##! ##$?!]"
"..."
Ludwig rubbed his eyes over and over, struggling to tell whether he was dreaming or awake. He even dug into his ear canal with a pinky finger, completely unable to accept the reality before him. I had experienced the exact same shock, so I could hardly blame him. No matter how bizarre the Forest of the Four Seasons was, this shattered common sense on a fundamental level.
"#%... #%%$%?"
"[#%$! #%%#! %$#%%^]"
Since they were jabbering away in the language of El Dorado, I couldn't understand a single word. Still, reading their tones and gestures, Ludwig seemed to be frantically verifying whether this was truly Cain, while Cain thumped his chest with puffed-up pride, affirming his identity. That was merely my guess, of course.
"Ohh, Goddess Aris...!"
"[Glory to Aris!]"
Their exchange concluded with shared reverence toward their deity. Both being holy knights, their devotion ran bone-deep. From Ludwig's perspective, he was coming face-to-face with a mythic ancestor—a legendary hero from the dawn of history.
Is this the equivalent of having a casual chat with Admiral Yi Sun-sin?
I didn't know the full catalog of Cain's legendary deeds, but it had to be roughly on that scale. Bearing the lofty title of the First Paladin meant his accomplishments were undoubtedly monumental. Setting that aside, it was high time I asked the questions burning in my mind. Why had he been sealed inside a mimic? Why was he buried deep within the Forest of the Four Seasons? The backlog of inquiries was piled high as a mountain.
The problem is that I don't speak a lick of Eldorado.
I wanted to ask Ludwig to interpret, but my grasp of his language was nowhere near sufficient for a detailed interview. For now, asking on the Gallery seemed like the better alternative. I planned to send a private query to the Juddak rather than making a public post.
"[Greetings!]"
"...?"
That was, until the statue belted out a resounding salute.
I blinked, stunned by the crisp, fluent Korean ringing in my ears. The tone and diction were completely different from Kkobong-i's halting, broken speech. What sort of development was this?
"Uh...? You can... talk?"
"[Mmm! At last, our words align!]"
While I stood rooted in place, Cain spoke with booming confidence. Rather than vibrating from flesh-and-blood vocal cords, his voice carried a faint, resonant metallic hum.
"[I possess a linguistic translation protocol! Having only just awakened earlier, the function was merely temporarily offline!]"
"..."
"[Good heavens! Forgive my lack of decorum—I neglected to introduce myself! My name is Cain, the First Paladin of Lady Aris! May I inquire as to the noble name of my benefactor?]"
"Park Jonghyuk."
"[Then I shall take the liberty of addressing you as Bark!]"
"...Just call me Grylls, please."
What kind of self-absorbed eccentric was this guy?
"Even if you have a translation protocol, how exactly are you speaking Korean?"
"[I know not! The knowledge simply exists within me!]"
"..."
"[Do not gaze upon me with such skepticism. I listened with great care to your exchanges with your companions, and I am structuring my speech based upon those vocal patterns.]"
I nodded slowly. I didn't fully grasp the underlying mechanics, but the mere fact that we could communicate seamlessly from here on out was a massive relief. He could even act as an interpreter between Ludwig and me. It was definitely an asset.
"I have a lot I want to ask, but... are you genuinely Cain? The First Paladin of Aris?"
"[Without a shred of doubt, it is I.]"
"Not just a talking rock pretending to be him?"
It was a blunt, borderline insolent question, but it was an issue that had to be addressed. It would be one thing if I were alone, but Ludwig revered him as a holy savior. Creating false hope or unnecessary confusion had to be avoided at all costs, so I needed absolute clarity.
"[It is natural that it might appear so to your eyes. Yet tell me, Grylls. Have you ever heard the philosophical paradox known as the Ship of Theseus?]"
"...How do you know about that? Who taught you that concept?"
"[It is an analogy imparted to me by the Goddess Aris herself. Though, naturally, I have no inkling of who this Theseus fellow might be.]"
First the Da Vinci Bridge, then cement, and now this. Theseus was a hero from ancient Greek mythology. Could this world truly be severed from Earth entirely?
As that old suspicion flared up again, Cain continued in a hearty, lecturing cadence.
"[Even if one replaces the timber of a vessel piece by piece, its identity remains unbroken. Yet if, at some point, the replaced components outnumber the original wood, what then constitutes the true essence of that ship? Such is the riddle.]"
"You're surprisingly well-read."
"[I accept your praise with grace. In any event, my current existence is grounded upon that very premise. Therefore, I advise you to abandon any futile attempts to pry deeper into the matter.]"
"...Isn't an existential question like that something you *should* pry into?"
"[It induces a dreadful headache. And it is thoroughly tiresome.]"
"..."
What an unbelievably simple-minded guy. There wasn't an ounce of lofty grace in his demeanor.
"[Regardless, the immutable truth remains that I am the paladin of Lady Aris. Is that not more than enough?]"
Or perhaps he was truly noble in the purest sense—so steadfast in his purpose that trivial existential dread couldn't shake him. Looking at him, I felt a peculiar mix of bewilderment and grudging respect. Under normal circumstances, anyone placed in such a predicament would be agonizing over an identity crisis. Yet Cain possessed not a single speck of doubt.
Of course, watching him plant his miniature stone hands on his hips with puffed-out pride completely punctured any lingering reverence. The solemn, titanic majesty I had seen in the Gallery recording was nowhere to be found.
"You're completely different from how you appeared in El Dorado. Not just your height, but the way you talk."
Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked him straight: where did all that imposing dignity go?
Cain's response was magnificent in all the wrong ways.
"[Well, naturally! One must present a splendid and awe-inspiring visage before one's descendants! Were you in my armored boots, you would have done the exact same.]"
"..."
It was an answer that left me utterly speechless, yet strangely struck a chord of empathy. At any rate, it was undeniable that the identity residing within this stone shell was indeed Cain, the First Paladin.
The core question, then, was why his body had dwindled to the size of a figurine. There was still a mountain of queries to resolve.
"You were colossal out in the capital, so why did you shrink like this here?"
"[It is due to the crushing atmospheric mana bearing down from every direction. Within this forest, I can scarcely muster a fraction of my strength.]"
"How long were you inside the Forest of the Four Seasons?"
"[I know not.]"
"Is there anything you *do* know?"
"[Only that the interior of a mimic is unexpectedly cozy and warm?]"
Utterly useless. I leveled a flat, deadpan stare at him. How in the world did a chunk of rock even perceive temperature and comfort?
"[Pray, do not look upon me with such frigid eyes. Even my own consciousness suffers severe data corruption; I am quite disoriented myself.]"
"Memory corruption? From being digested by the mimic?"
"[That is exceedingly likely. Having been sealed in darkness for so long, I simply gave up on the act of thinking altogether.]"
"..."
"[My recollections will piece themselves together in time, so grant me patience. Though, naturally, there is no guarantee those fragmented memories will prove useful to you.]"
"Pardon the practical question, but you really don't need food, right?"
Everything else was manageable so long as he didn't sponge off our finite rations. Fortunately, he reaffirmed that nourishment was unnecessary. He claimed that ambient mana was all he required to sustain his consciousness. Even if the forest's heavy atmospheric pressure stifled his offensive output, absorbing raw environmental mana remained effortless.
"[Though I currently inhabit this humble vessel, should you ever require my assistance, you need only ask. The debt of gratitude I owe you for my liberation remains carved upon my soul.]"
"Well... hearing you say that is reassuring. I assume you'll fly off again eventually?"
"[If the bearer of the Holy Sword calls upon me, then duty shall compel my descent. From what I gathered, the current wielder happens to be that fellow's disciple.]"
Cain gestured toward Ludwig with a nod of his stone chin. Ludwig was sitting quietly, listening intently to the cadence of our voices, though whether he could grasp a single syllable was doubtful.
"[It was hardly an inspiring spectacle to behold. To think that glorious El Dorado had degenerated to such shameful depths... *Sigh*.]"
Cain shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. I understood his grief. After all, he had manifested right when the Hero was about to be executed by her own nation's treacherous archers. Still, the crisis had passed, and the path to reclaiming their lost integrity lay open.
"It ended well, and that's what counts. There probably won't be much reason for her to summon you anymore, either."
"[Hmm. That is rather regrettable.]"
"Why?"
Wouldn't a peaceful era with no need for divine summons be the ideal outcome? Someone once said that a society without heroes isn't unfortunate; rather, a society that constantly needs a hero is the truly miserable one. El Dorado had already proven that tragedy. It was objectively better if they never had reason to call upon him again.
"[The young Hero possessed quite an exquisite beauty, you see.]"
"..."
"[Though she could not match the divine grace of Lady Aris, she was a peerless gem nonetheless.]"
I couldn't tell if the man was commendably candid or hopelessly frivolous. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. Regardless, the miniature paladin had officially joined our household. How much help he would actually be remained to be seen.
Will spring finally arrive in two or three days?
Warmth had already swept across El Dorado; I hoped the season would shift on our side of the barrier soon. Thanks to stockpiling supplies well in advance, this winter felt like it was passing by faster than the last. Even if the little statue had accidentally generated extra chores for me.
It was just about time to turn in for the night when a sudden commotion broke out by the hearth.
"[Foul dragon! Face my wrath!]"
"Kweeeek!"
Before I even realized they had interacted, Cain and Tyrano were locked in fierce combat. Of course, given the absurd difference in their body mass, Tyrano was essentially playing with a squeaky toy. Cain didn't seem insulted in the slightest, appearing to have the absolute time of his life.
"[Hyaaaah!]"
Moving with stiff, jerky, yet surprisingly nimble steps, Cain charged the hatchling. Viewed in isolation, his posture mirrored a brave knight lunging at an apex calamity.
Should I carve him a little wooden toothpick sword later?
According to legend, Cain had fought exclusively with a shield throughout his entire life, and even now, a stone buckler was clamped firmly to his left forearm. Raising the miniature shield high above his head like a battering ram, he charged headlong. At this rate, I was tempted to start calling him Captain El Dorado.
"Kweek!"
Thwack!
His physical specs might have been on par with an augmented super-soldier, but against genuine primeval monsters, that meant precisely nothing.
"[Whoaaaah!]"
With a lazy flick of Tyrano's foreclaw, Cain was batted through the air, tumbling across the room. Even the sound of his stone body smacking into the dirt wall was comical.
Pitiful didn't begin to describe the scene. It was getting harder by the second to believe this was the mythological pillar of El Dorado's founding religion.
"Mister."
"..."
"What's going through your head watching that?"
I nudged Ludwig, who was staring blankly at the spectacle. The veteran commander gave no reply. I couldn't tell whether his spirit had broken from the sheer disillusionment, or if he had simply accepted that his legendary forefather was a massive clown.
"[Formidable indeed, dragon! You easily rival the dread drakes I felled in my youth!]"
"Kweek!"
"[Yet I, First Paladin Cain, shall never yield to wickedness!]"
They were having a grand old time. Still, seeing that Tyrano was thoroughly amused, I didn't bother breaking up the bout.
Wait, why is he still speaking Korean to the lizard?
Since he mentioned having a translation function, it was possible his voice adjusted to whatever language the listener understood. Clapping my hands, I called out to both Tyrano and Cain, telling them to wrap it up since it was time for lights-out. Both wore identical expressions of profound disappointment. For a living fossil, the guy's sociability was off the charts.
"[Regrettable. We shall settle our duel upon the morrow!]"
"Kweek."
A wry chuckle slipped out of me.
And so, the morning dawned over the snowy wilderness.
"[What is the meaning of this implement?]"
"What does it look like?"
Handing him a miniature garden trowel I had purchased off the Gallery's barter market, I pointed toward the cave entrance.
"Go shovel the snow."
"[...]"
A fresh blizzard had dumped a thick layer of white across the path overnight, and it needed clearing immediately. Cain stared at the metal trowel in disbelief, then up at me, before quietly accepting his fate and marching toward the drift without another word. Out in the civilized kingdoms, he might be 'Lord Cain,' but inside my shelter, he was just an extra pair of hands that happened to be made of stone.
"[I swear by the light, no matter the era, I shall never cease to despise this white trash falling from the sky!]"
"..."
"[Were I at my full stature, clearing this pathetic drift would not take five seconds!]"
"Hey, Private Cain. Pipe down and keep digging."