Chapter 21

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Translator: Ace

Chapter: 21

Chapter Title: The Golem's Determination

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The reunion with its master was but a fleeting moment—Ddol Ddoli was alone once more.

Ddol Ddoli trudged through the majestic gorge, the bizarre darkness finally lifted, its heavy footsteps echoing with resounding thuds.

Night fell swiftly, then departed just as quickly. Dawn broke, and the scorching sun assaulted Ddol Ddoli's parched stone body, but the golem felt not a hint of heat.

No, it wasn't just heat. Cold, searing pain—none of it stirred any sensation in Ddol Ddoli. Pain itself was utterly trivial to it from the start.

And so, Ddol Ddoli was perplexed. What on earth was this feeling?

It hurt. A stinging ache deep within its chest, where its core resided.

Ddol Ddoli realized this wasn't physical pain.

Could it be that fabled "pain of the heart" one only heard about in words?

It didn't know. No answer came. But one thing was certain: since last night, a single thought had plagued it without cease.

Ddol Ddoli came to understand that this sharp, stinging pain stemmed from that very thought.

"What if I die fighting some villain? How would you feel about that?"

Its master's shocking words from yesterday.

Those words refused to leave its mind.

"If master dies fighting a villain... dies..."

Ddol Ddoli knew its master was strong.

Thus, nothing like that would ever happen to him.

But was that truly the case?

Could it be absolutely certain such a thing wouldn't occur?

"No certainty."

No matter how much it pondered, certainty eluded it.

As its ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠master had said, this world teemed with mighty foes. What guarantee was there that none of them would target him?

Just yesterday, that demon or whatever it was had appeared.

It hadn't been much of a threat, but among all enemies encountered so far, it was by far the strongest.

Such a creature—or even stronger ones—could threaten its master's life at any moment.

"Ddol Ddoli hates master dying. Can't just watch."

It needed to devise some countermeasure.

But how?

Thoughts tangled into knots. Ddol Ddoli, who had never delved into deep contemplation since its creation, now faced genuine worry for the first time.

"Ddol Ddoli wants to protect master. But Ddol Ddoli can't."

It would be ideal to guard its master directly, but it had to battle enemies to grow stronger—no time for that.

So, what then?

"If can't protect directly, protect another way."

Have another being protect the master instead.

Like that little fairy named Lara it met yesterday.

That fairy could create minions eerily similar to itself.

Ddol Ddoli lacked such power, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but minions didn't have to be created from scratch.

"Ddol Ddoli, nothing impossible. If can't create, make another way."

The stinging ache that had tormented it vanished in an instant. Clarity brought immense relief.

"Ddol Ddoli won't lose. Ddol Ddoli will make minions too."

Thud! Thud!

Ddol Ddoli resumed its march.

"Huh?"

Ian's head tilted involuntarily at the sudden notification.

"Again?"

It had happened a few days ago, and now this.

"What kind of resolution did it make?"

He truly had no clue.

How could he, without peering into its mind?

Maybe something like vowing to slaughter all demons?

"Doesn't matter anyway."

Now, if he wished, he could even converse with Ddol Ddoli.

He had inscribed a communication magic circle onto its body.

Long-range communication was now possible.

But that didn't mean he'd pry into every little thing.

The communication mana had limited capacity, preventing endless chatter, and meddling in its every move wasn't Ian's style anyway.

As an independent entity, he wanted to respect its choices.

Barring anything dangerous, what did it matter?

As long as it lived, they could meet anytime. That was enough.

"Your report checks out. Traces of the black mages' summoning ritual were found in that gorge."

Bren's voice pulled him back. He was giving his debrief. Ian set aside his thoughts and focused.

"Even massive remnants of demonic energy were distinctly felt. Not just felt—they were so deeply embedded in the earth they couldn't dissipate."

Bren clicked his tongue in disapproval, then reached for his pipe. Ian's brow furrowed at the sight.

"No, please don't smoke inside."

"How can I not light up when my head aches like this?"

"Go outside then."

"No need. Just open the window for ventilation. Be a dear."

"Fine."

Ian retorted sarcastically as he opened the window.

"Why this country hasn't banned indoor smoking is beyond me. Ugh, the smell."

In truth, Ian felt grateful this wasn't some utterly barbaric medieval backwater.

So he had few complaints.

Still, moments like these inevitably drew a sigh.

If magical engineering was advanced, couldn't public awareness be too?

Smoke outside.

Yeah?

"Ugh, chain-smoker."

"You just cursed me, didn't you?"

"What? No."

"Don't lie. Your face says it all."

"This is my normal face."

"Ah, so that sourpuss look is your default. I never realized."

"Glad you finally noticed."

"Odd, though. We've worked together four years, yet I never analyzed your usual expression."

"Probably because you don't care about your subordinates. Show some interest. That's why the underlings curse you out."

"What?"

As Bren barked, Ian averted his gaze with a sidelong glance. Bren soon sighed.

"Can't even rattle that guy's composure."

The more they talked, the more it felt like a losing battle.

"Anyway, good work. Tied to demons, so highly dangerous, yet you returned alive and gathered evidence admirably."

"That was Investigator Lena's effort, not mine. Praise her. She worked tirelessly. Oh, and capturing the black mage remnants alive? Also her doing."

"Really?"

"Why would I lie?"

"Not passing the buck again, are you?"

"Come on, who'd do that?"

Bren crossed his arms, eyeing Ian suspiciously. He couldn't trust that brazen face—Ian had pulled this too many times.

Everything else made sense, but this? Hogging all the work only to shove credit onto juniors—what was the point?

No ambition? Really?

Did that even make sense? Sure, not a top post, but a central bureaucrat in the capital— no desire to climb higher?

"This time it's true. Lena's got real talent. Even if it was just a third-circle black mage, taking down three at once solo? Impressive skill."

"...Lena's a bit timid, but her abilities are reliable. Fine, got it. Go rest."

"You're definitely giving me leave, right?"

"Of course."

"Sweet!"

"Oh, and a commendation's coming."

"Huh? Commendation?"

Ian's dead-fish eyes lit up through the entire report. What kind?

"Don't get too excited. It's the Imperial Radiant Medal."

"Pfft. That's it?"

Disappointment washed over Ian. Bren's eyebrow twitched. What kind of guy was this? Disliking such a glorious honor?

"You do know what the Imperial Radiant Medal is, right?"

"Sure. Just a tiny badge pinned to your uniform chest."

Bren shook his head slowly.

"He has no idea."

Ignorance explained the reaction. Even Ian wouldn't scoff if he knew.

"Well, makes sense. He's a commoner."

Time to enlighten him. For a commoner, it was an unparalleled glory.

"The Imperial Radiant Medal is bestowed personally by His Majesty on heroes of great merit."

"Ah, okay."

"Even central nobles lack it. Not I, nor our Director— we've only heard of it. Get it now?"

"Yeah, sounds impressive. Wow."

Bren shook his head again. The flat tone said it all—no excitement from Ian.

He knew the guy was eccentric, but this much?

Still, Bren wasn't discouraged. Even this one would grin ear-to-ear at the bombshell.

"That alone wouldn't merit mentioning. Recipients also get a knighthood."

"Knighthood?"

"Yes. Not just any—Radiant Knight, no less. Amazing, right? Nobility plus a title exclusive to imperial heroes!"

"Wow. Impressive."

A vein pulsed on Bren's forehead. No reaction to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠becoming nobility?

"This damn..."

Now he was determined to shock him.

"Not all. Extra perks too. Recipient's family gets military draft exemption, one direct kin priority admission to the Imperial Academy, special pension..."

"Wait, pension?"

"Yes. Pension."

"They pay a pension?!"

"Y-Yeah. Substantial sum, but that's not the point. I wasn't done—anyway, even the Magic Tower if you wa—"

"Jackpot."

Ian clapped suddenly, cutting Bren off.

"You should've led with that. Explaining side stuff first? Nearly disappointed me."

"S-Side stuff? What nonsense—"

"Heh heh. Thanks for the great info. I'll head out? Deputy Director's the best."

Ian departed promptly. As he left, Bren caught a mutter: "Slush fund honey pot."

"H-He got that excited over money? Not even fazed by the title?"

Bren stared, slack-jawed, at the beaming Ian's retreating back.

Ian liked this world even more. The longer he lived, the better it seemed.

"Special pension, huh."

Money was always better in abundance. The more, the merrier.

Especially for Ian, who poured fortunes into alchemy—cash was crucial.

Alchemy was a monstrous money pit.

"Perfect timing for alchemy support funds."

With the state offering subsidies, he could dive deeper into alchemy.

On that note, he clocked out sharp today and headed straight to his lab.

Time for new research.

Alchemy level-up unlocked fresh fields.

Not even checked yet—his heart raced.

"Oh, Life Fusion!"

A most satisfying research field.

"Synthesis function unlocked!"

Synthesis was a must in alchemy.

Plenty unlocked, but Life Fusion drew the eye.

"Making chimeras or something?"

Yet, something nagged—not quite chimeras.

Mages could craft chimeras too.

This world had plenty researching them.

So, was Life Fusion beyond basic chimeras?

"Well, trying it will tell."

Hmm. What to start with?

Ian pondered happily, then shook his head.

Order didn't matter. He'd do them all anyway.

"Just go sequentially."

Resolved, he moved to start "Soul Synchronization" when a corner table suddenly rattled.

"Whoa, what the—"

Checking for rats or such—nothing.

No quake, no wind. Why...?

"...?"

Ian blinked.

Did he see wrong?

"Why is that moving?"

The demon soul stone was moving.

The pitch-black soul stone that shouldn't move on its own—why?

"What the hell."

Suddenly eerie.

Did it have a will?

Impossible...

"What?"

Master?

Return? What?

"I'm the master—what's this crap."

Ian shot up. Whoever it was—insane? Stealing his stuff?

He snatched the writhing soul stone and stowed it in his inventory.

"..."

Astonishingly, the agitation ceased instantly.

Ian nodded in satisfaction.

"Inventory's the best security, as expected."

A dim chamber. The hulking man on the jade throne muttered.

"What?"

He narrowed his eyes. An unbelievable event.

"Soul retrieval failed."

His subordinate's soul wasn't recovered.

In his countless years, this was unprecedented.

What trickery was this?

"Impossible. Can't be."

He extended his hand, firing mana once more.

But the mana merely grasped at empty air before returning futilely.