Chapter 95
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 94
Chapter Title: Animated Armor
Rachel voiced aloud the text that would have appeared on screen in a game, as she picked up the machete.
The word machete was unfamiliar yet familiar—it was a jungle knife or clearing blade, mainly used for chopping vegetation in jungles or mountains.
Rachel stepped out into the hallway gripping it.
Only two rooms remained. Rachel grasped the doorknob of room number four, which she suspected belonged to the eldest son. As expected, the door was locked.
"Here it is."
Rachel inserted the key she'd found in the doll's belly into the keyhole. It clicked into place with a satisfying clack.
"Bingo!"
As anticipated, this was the eldest son's room. But upon opening the door and entering, she spotted a human silhouette. Rachel flinched.
"Who's there?"
The figure didn't stir or respond.
"Hello?"
Rachel approached slowly, machete at the ready. Up close, she realized it wasn't a person but a suit of displayed armor.
"It was so dark I thought it was a person."
Rachel circled the armor, surveying the eldest son's room.
"Nothing much here?"
There were scarcely any useful items. A desk drawer held a diary, but flipping through it revealed sparse entries. The only noteworthy part was the neat handwriting.
"Oh, this one's written at length."
Rachel, who had been skimming, focused on a particularly long passage.
[I have no desire to manage bees. My friends say I smell too sweet and it's unmanly.]
[That's when I met him. He asked if I wanted to become his knight. Naturally, I said yes.]
The eldest son had aspired to be a knight.
However, the Hannie barony specialized in beekeeping, so the heir would need some knowledge of it regardless.
From the armor and diary in the room, though, it seemed the eldest son despised tending bees, harvesting honey, and handling distribution.
"What's so great about being 'manly'? Honey from Cudas is such a lucrative commodity. What a fool. Anyway, who is this 'him'?"
Rachel muttered as she read on. The subsequent entries brimmed with praise for him and anticipation of becoming a knight.
At first, she thought he might be from an old noble warrior family, but the clues mounted.
"The crown prince..."
Though not named directly, the figure in the diary was unmistakably Crown Prince Herion.
The eldest son of the Hannie family had been deeply inspired by the crown prince he met at the academy and yearned to become his knight. And...
[He presented me with this armor, hoping I would become an excellent knight.]
The armor by the door was evidently a gift.
"So the crown prince didn't visit here for nothing."
He had ties to the Hannie baron's heir and thus aided them vigorously during the mountain fire.
"In the original game, the armor moves. But this is the armor the crown prince gave to a future retainer, so it should be safe..."
Rachel paused, her gaze fixed on the armor. Like before, it was drawing in her mana.
"No way?"
It was just like with the doll. Her mana flowed into the armor, swirling wildly within.
The mana filled the hollow interior, animating the suit.
Clank!
"Why is my bad feeling always spot on?"
The armor tilted toward Rachel. Instead of toppling, it stepped forward with its right leg and swung an arm at her.
Whoosh—
The armored gauntlet whistled through the air. Rachel twisted aside and parried with her machete.
Clang!
The machete collided with the armor and arced away, embedding in the wall. Rachel's body rebounded backward, but the distance opened up.
"That thing hits you, you're looking at fractures at least!"
Rachel rubbed her throbbing wrist and grumbled.
Fast for mere armor. She'd considered testing it with a touch, but decided against it.
Her reach was shorter than the armor's. If contact didn't stop it, she'd be seriously hurt.
Too risky to experiment, so Rachel turned and fled the room.
The door slammed shut,
Boom!
Followed by a massive crash as the armor collided with it.
"Ugh, I've got its aggro!"
In a panic, Rachel grabbed the knob of the opposite door she hadn't entered yet.
'It opens!'
No key needed, fortunately. Rachel flung it open.
"Huh?"
A bewildered sound escaped her lips. The scene before her was familiar.
"Did I open the wrong door?"
What she'd thought was a study was identical to room two. Hearing the door splintering behind her, Rachel dashed inside and shut the door.
"What's going on?"
It was the room where she'd first woken up. The wardrobe she'd hidden in, the scene on the bed—everything matched.
"No, wait—is this not the room I first woke in?"
Soon, Rachel spotted the differences and muttered.
Unlike her room, a candle burned here. Unlike the rumpled bedding where she'd awakened, this bed was neatly made.
"Twin rooms?"
This was a common puzzle in RPG Maker games: mirror rooms or identical setups where spotting and matching differences advanced you.
Identical rooms meant that scenario.
"Do I need to make room one and two identical?"
No sounds of the moving armor since entering.
"Not sure if the living armor stopped or went elsewhere. I'd have to go out to check."
Going to room two risked encountering the armor. Whatever needed doing, it had to be here.
"Should've checked here first."
Grumbling, Rachel moved to the bed.
She rumpled the covers, drew the curtains, cracked open the wardrobe door, and extinguished the candle.
She replicated her memory, but imperfectly—no change. Rachel scratched her cheek.
"Pretty sure it was like this? Was there more? Talking to myself feels weird when I'm alone."
Spotting errors in documents was familiar, but differences between similar rooms was tough. She needed to visit room two.
"But the armor..."
Rachel peered through the door crack. At first, she saw blue.
'What?'
Then realized it was a human eye.
Someone was peeking through the keyhole. Rachel recoiled.
Expecting the door to burst open, but silence reigned outside.
'What the hell?'
Peering again yielded nothing.
'Safe to go out?'
She hesitated. No presence detected.
"Can't stay holed up forever."
No armor, no mysterious figure in sight.
Rachel took a deep breath and opened the door.
No armor. But the opposite door was half-smashed, resembling room two's now.
Black footprints stained the hallway floor, like ash and sludge pressed in.
"Gives me the creeps."
Rachel shivered, eyeing the prints. They crossed the hall toward the previously locked door.
"Doorknob's broken."
The door she'd thought needed matching rooms to open stood ajar. The armor had forced it. No clue why the twin rooms existed.
"No. This isn't a game."
She'd assumed game logic since entering the game world. Rachel slapped her cheeks to refocus.
"Stay sharp."
Even in a tiger's den, presence of mind could save you. Rachel pushed open the door and entered the next hallway.
"Huh?"
But instead of a hallway, a room appeared. Identical to the first one she'd seen: candelabra, rumpled bed, curtained window—all the same.
Turning back, the door she'd come through was gone. A wardrobe stood in its place.
"What is this?"
Opening the wardrobe revealed only clothes.
Clank, clank!
Amid it all, metallic sounds echoed from somewhere. Rachel dove into the wardrobe.
'What the hell is happening!'
Wasn't this the initial loop?
'Loop? Looping space!'
Suddenly, Sola's tale from days ago resurfaced.
'Wraiths that awaken on their own repeat the experiences right before their death.'
The voice by the campfire replayed in her mind.
'So if a wraith is nearby, you keep seeing the place it was in just before dying. Ordinary folk struggle to escape.'
Unlike the village, no burn marks here, but deaths had occurred in this old castle over generations.
But this death wasn't ordinary. Self-awakened wraiths stemmed from regrets and grudges, not natural ends.
The heavy clanking receded. Wood splintered, then sounds faded to silence.
Rachel emerged. Parting the curtains revealed crimson flames engulfing the village below.
A wraith lurked nearby, one who'd witnessed this blaze before dying.
Rachel opened the door. Again, a dim hallway with seven doors and a small window.
"How do I escape this?"
Rachel tried each of the six room doors. Unlike before, all were locked.
The door the armor had smashed was intact. That chilled her more—like space and time had been twisted.
On a whim, Rachel tried the end door that had been locked initially.
'It opened—different from before!'
Excitement surged as the knob turned. But beyond lay the first room she'd seen again.
"No, this is too much!"
The repeating scenes threatened trauma. Rushing out led to yet another hallway—third time now.
Rachel's face hardened.
"Damn it."
She started with the first doorknob. It opened this time.
The view differed. What she'd thought was room two's twin—room one—was actually a study.
"Finally, a new room!"
A massive oak desk and bookshelves dominated. Reports littered the desk.
*Fire Caution*
*With autumn upon us, fires are frequent in neighboring territories. Slash-and-burn farming is prohibited until summer.*
*Missing Persons Rising*
*Disappearances have occurred in the territory. With winter, beasts descend from the mountains, so avoid going out at night.*
"Missing persons and fires."
Rachel set the paper down. Inspecting the study, she noted the desk's underside as a good hiding spot.
"Like something's about to leap out... Nah."
Finishing her search, Rachel cautiously opened the door.
"Sob, sob."
A woman's weeping echoed from somewhere, but Rachel ignored it. The sound soon vanished, and she found an opening door.
Room two this time. Counting her awakening, fourth visit. But new: an unfamiliar diary on the desk.
Rachel picked it up and opened it.
*This vacation, brother brought back armor. He said it's precious, so don't touch it. I wouldn't anyway. But is it just me, or does the armor feel ominous?*
Handwriting and content identified the owner.
"The Hannie baron's daughter's diary. Dated winter two years ago. Why'd this appear suddenly?"
Written months before the fire.
*No one's around, yet the armor moved on its own. Told the family, got scolded for lying. Mother said rats did it, but no—that wasn't it. The armor scares me so much.*