Chapter 190: The Tin Knight and the Butterfly's Dream
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 190: The Tin Knight and the Butterfly's Dream
When you opened your eyes, you realized you were standing in some ruins.
…?
It was a truly strange thing.
For just a moment ago, you had been riding in a carriage with your companions.
“I’ve heard many rumors, but seeing you in person is quite different from what I expected.”
But before you could leisurely grasp the situation, a voice from in front of you stole your attention.
Vivid red hair fluttered.
A brilliant red dress billowed.
Even the color of her shoes, split at the front, was red.
A rose blooming vividly, all alone in a green field.
Or a dancer on a stage, gathering the audience’s attention all to herself.
A woman who seemed to be the very embodiment of the word ‘splendor’ looked at you and smiled.
It was a beauty that would make any man's heart flutter, but you were not deceived by her appearance.
For that, the smell of blood coming from the woman's body was too strong.
You knew that the dress the woman wore was originally a deep green.
And that those who, captivated by her beauty, had approached her had become the red dye that colored that dress.
“Wonderful knight. Why are you here? The ones who should be protecting this place have all fled, so why do you remain?”
The woman asked.
You had no intention of answering.
Not only did you not understand the situation, but in the first place, you had no mouth.
“—To defeat you.”
And yet, for some reason, you found yourself speaking.
With a mouth that shouldn't exist, uttering a voice you shouldn't have been able to produce.
A blush rose to the woman's face.
As if those words, filled with killing intent, were a confession of love.
“Is that so? Then it can't be helped. Then we must dance.”
The woman pulled one foot back, bent her knees, and curtsied.
She looked just like a young lady at a ball, inviting someone to dance.
But that was only for a moment.
Tak!
The next moment, the woman's figure vanished without a trace.
You swung the shield on your left arm behind your back.
KWAAAAANG!
The shield and the heel of the woman's shoe collided, creating a huge shockwave.
The silent ruins. A place that was once the palace of some kingdom was visited by an untimely commotion.
A chuckling laugh could be heard.
The woman laughed as if delighted that you had blocked her attack—no, that you had reacted at all.
“Most people's heads would have been smashed by that. Well then, how about this?”
Her long legs, supple as a willow branch, flew towards you.
KWAANG!
The shield and shoe met, and a moment later, a shockwave scattered outwards.
A sensation similar to blocking a catapult's projectile washed over your left arm, but even that was just the beginning.
Tak, tadak, tadadak.
Amidst the rhythmic sound of hooves, attacks of vicious power mixed with killing intent.
KWANG! KWAKWANG! KWAKWAKWANG!
Despite using kicks, a move with a large opening, as her main attack, the woman's chain of attacks was as smooth as flowing water.
Her physical abilities and martial arts were excellent in themselves, but the ability she possessed played a larger role.
Spatial movement with a preparation time infinitely close to zero.
The distance itself was less than half a step, let alone a full one, but the distance wasn't what was important.
The key was that the woman herself could decide her posture after the spatial movement.
If she returned to her pre-attack posture immediately after striking, it was as if the openings in her movements didn't exist at all.
Add to this her original spatial movement, which could cover greater distances despite a slightly longer preparation time, and the result was like a nightmare.
Just as you thought you'd blocked a kick from the front with your shield, an impact nearly twice as strong struck your back.
The sword you thrust at her defenseless abdomen cut through empty air, and a heavy axe kick struck your shoulder like a hatchet.
The range of weapons, the distance between opponents, the gaps in breathing.
An ability akin to a divine power, one that arbitrarily controlled all the key elements of martial combat.
Faced with that absurd, cheat-like power, countless knights had knelt before the woman.
At her ability to render mages, archers, and other rear-guard units useless in an instant, generals from every nation clutched their heads and screamed in despair.
To avoid being assassinated by the woman, who could traverse space to reach any place she could see, politicians had to hide themselves in windowless rooms.
Despair was everywhere.
Even as the darkness expanded its domain, the brilliant light of the heavens did not shine upon the earth.
And yet, you did not let go of your sword.
Knowing you couldn't fully protect your body with it alone, you did not let go of your shield.
—To endure for even a moment longer.
Knowing the sword you swung would not reach, you did not let go of your sword.
—Because if you let go, not even a single chance would come.
You endured, and endured, and steadfastly endured.
You predicted her bizarre attacks and deflected the impact.
Not content with simply gathering mana to strengthen your body, you trained your skills to use mana itself as another shield.
Knowing the opponent's strength, and admitting your own weakness.
Believing that all you had to do was close that gap in this very moment.
Slash!
After thousands of trials and errors, your sword finally reached the woman.
The red woman's right foot flew through the air and was soon flung to the ground.
What had looked like a high-heeled shoe lost its illusory magic and changed its form to that of a deer's hoof.
“This is…”
Dripping blood from her severed ankle, the now one-footed woman's eyes widened in surprise.
You caught your breath.
Your body ached and throbbed all over.
A few broken ribs must have pierced your organs, as a cough brought up a gush of congested blood.
Anyone could see you were in a state to be bedridden, not holding a sword, but you thought this was actually good.
The opponent's greatest weapon was her mobility.
If the woman with spatial movement abilities decided to flee, even you would have an arduous time catching her.
Therefore, you couldn't let the woman escape.
You needed to lure her into attacking your weakened self, to make her decide to finish you off for good.
Today, you intended to put an end to one of the eight.
Scattering an emotion that could be either vengeance or joy, the woman let out a loud, wild laugh.
You raised your sword.
And—
“—Hey! Can't you hear me?”
Thump!
With the sound of a blow that seemed a bit more controlled than usual, your vision flipped.
*
“Where's your head at?”
At the voice coming from above your head, you blankly raised your gaze.
Dorothea, the witch you were contracted to, was looking down at you with a blunt expression.
You looked around.
Inside the familiar carriage.
In the driver's seat was Sophia, absorbed in her writing; behind the carriage was Adelaide, in the middle of a run; and in the cargo bed sat Rapunzel and your new companions, the white master-servant pair.
It all felt so strange that you couldn't easily come to your senses.
“…What's wrong?”
Noticing that something was off about you, a faint hint of concern appeared in Dorothea's eyes.
You couldn't answer her, and quietly looked down at your own hands.
Hands made of cold lumps of iron.
At a glance, you might look like a person in armor, but the contents are not human.
The warmth of another, a soft touch—none of it is permitted to you.
That's why the scene you had just experienced lingered like an afterimage.
That thick smell of blood.
That vivid pain.
The breath you inhaled and exhaled, the heart that beat so violently.
You are you.
But in that moment, you were not you.
That truth, like a play on words, confused you, but you soon came to a realization.
That scene, that conversation, that fight.
Was the memory of the predecessor who gave you this body.
You wondered how to explain this, scratching the back of your head, then decided to just blurt something out.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ says it seems he had a daydream!]
“What do you mean, a magic doll having a dream? …Or maybe not?”
Dorothea tilted her head, then gestured to Gale with her eyes.
Gale replied.
“When you want to ask about something you don't know, it's better for everyone if you ask for what you want specifically, instead of just giving hints with your eyes. I might give you the wrong answer, you know?”
Dorothea looked like she was about to flare up for a moment, but as if she'd (finally) realized that getting annoyed every time was only a loss for her, she relaxed her shoulders and spoke.
“Can magic dolls dream?”
“An ordinary magic doll couldn't. But, like our Sig, Sir Tin Knight over there is also custom-made in a sense, isn't he? It wouldn't be strange for a normally impossible phenomenon to occur.”
Gale continued with various other explanations after that, but you only half-listened.
Gale's legs, as she sat in the cargo bed.
To be more precise, it was because your attention was stolen by the shoes she was wearing.
Shoes, by their very nature, easily get dirty and lose their shine, but her silver shoes sparkled without a single speck of dirt, perhaps because they were a magic item, or perhaps because Gale's care was simply meticulous.
That should have been the case, but why?
For some reason, the shoes looked red to your eyes.
A vivid red, as if soaked in blood.
“So, what was the dream about?”
To Dorothea's question, you answered simply.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ says it was a dream about fighting an incredibly strong enemy!]
“Oh, right. Not much different from usual, then.”
The somewhat cautious look in Dorothea's eyes instantly became indifferent.
She didn't say it out loud, but her face clearly expressed, ‘Of course you'd say that. I was a fool for taking you seriously.’
“We got a little sidetracked. So, what are you going to do?”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ applies what he just heard, saying that you have to be specific when asking something to avoid misunderstandings!]
“That's because you were dozing off and didn't hear me! This is different!”
After letting out a small roar, Aargh!, Dorothea crossed her arms with a defiant posture.
The two hills, which seemed to have grown strangely larger since they first met, were lightly squashed.
“I'm talking about food. Food. Do you want to eat?”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ requests further explanation!]
“It must be weird just watching when everyone else is eating. If you want, I can fix it—no, I can add the function.”
Your eyes widened.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ asks if that's possible!]
The answer came not from Dorothea, but from Gale.
“Strictly speaking, it's not a 'function to eat something,' but a 'function to share the sensation of someone else eating something.' That's much more feasible than recreating an entire digestive system.”
“However,” Gale added.
“Are you really sure you want to use your ‘cooperation’ for that? Honestly, I thought you'd ask for the sacred treasure.”
The duel that took place inside the library.
Before that fight began, Dorothea had said.
That in exchange for engaging in a direct confrontation, you would have to cooperate with her on something.
One as a condition for the match to even happen, and another as the winner's demand of the loser.
One was used to ask for help in searching for the Witch of the North, whose whereabouts were unknown, so only one remained.
“It doesn't matter. The order in which I collect them will just change, that's all.”
Dorothea declared, as if it were nothing of consequence.
“Managing a familiar's morale is one of the master's duties. It's more rational and, in the long run, more profitable to take care of this guy's mental health than to get hung up on whether I can collect one more sacred treasure right now. So it's fine.”
“Hmm, if you say so, it's fine with me. But Dorothea, you really like to beat around the bush. I don't think showing kindness is anything to be ashamed of—Clang!—Whoa, isn't it a bit much to swing your staff at someone?”
“You're one to talk!?”
You stared blankly at the black and white witches shrieking and bickering.
You hadn't even answered, but it seemed restoring your sense of taste had already become a settled matter.
You felt a strange mix of emotions.
The recovery of the eight sacred treasures was the main goal of this journey.
Postponing that to obtain a function that was of little help in battle was, no matter how you looked at it, an inefficient and irrational trade.
You were especially bewildered that of all people, the black witch was the one who had made such a decision.
However, you didn't want to oppose it.
Both the you inside the Tin Knight, and the you outside the monitor.
The reality of life you felt in that memory was too brilliant to simply deny and let go.