novelraw Chapter 94 : Chapter 94
Chapter 94 : Chapter 94
Chapter 94: The Doll's House (1)
There was a saintess.
In the middle of the desert.
The desert was ancient, and the saintess was small.
A hot wind blew across the sandy land, carving wavy patterns. Finely crushed pieces of stone rustled and scattered. The haze was as thick as a coral reef, and the young saintess was curled up as if submerged in water.
The believers bowed.
They bowed and bowed to the saintess.
Around the young saintess, there were numerous believers in a circular formation. Thousands of believers prostrated themselves to the saintess. No one tried to make eye contact, and no one tried to get close. They just closed their eyes and repeatedly bowed from a distance.
“──Don't make me laugh!”
The hero went forward.
“Are you people in your right minds? She's still a child!”
Straight footprints were stamped on the desert.
The believers blocked the hero. The hero didn't care. She steadfastly pushed through the thick crowd.
One believer shouted. No! Our breath will be harmful to the Saintess!
The hero spat phlegm at the believer.
Another believer shouted. Stop! Our words will be harmful to the Saintess!
The hero raised her middle finger to the believer.
The believers shouted.
It will be harmful, it will be harmful!
Laughter, kindness, and pity will all be harmful!
“Hello, little one.”
The hero stopped.
By the saintess's side, in the most harmful form.
“What are you doing?”
The saintess was in the hero's eyes.
She was an absurdly young girl. Her purple hair was long enough to touch the ground, and her pale red eyes were as clear as a pistil.
“Hello, big sister.”
The saintess opened her mouth.
By the hero's side, in the most sacred form.
“I was playing with my friends.”
The hero was in the saintess's eyes.
She was a woman with a cigarette in her mouth. Her jagged reddish-brown hair looked rough, and her vermilion eyes sparkled like the sun.
“Friends?”
“Yes, friends.”
There were dolls.
The saintess moved the dolls without a word.
She placed one doll next to another. She tilted the two dolls so that they leaned against each other. She picked up another doll and placed it between the two leaning dolls. As if making a family.
But even so, it was crude. It was a crude doll made by weaving tumbleweeds.
“My name is Altair Asabiya.”
The hero extended her hand to the saintess.
“Won't you leave with me?”
“Of course I will.”
The saintess took the hero's extended hand.
“──But Altair, I've forgotten my name. It's been too long. I can't remember my real name.”
“Wow, what a beautiful name.”
“But it's a relief. That I haven't forgotten your name.”
“Me too. I'm glad to have met you. Can you stand up?”
“Altair, this is all just a dream. An old event is being brought back through a dream.”
“Come on, let's go. I'll introduce you to my comrades.”
“I will forget their faces as well as their names.”
“Really? That's interesting.”
“Whatever I say won't reach you.”
“But it's okay. Because it's all real.”
“Because it's all a dream.”
Holding hands,
the hero and the saintess walked together.
The hero smiled, and the saintess did not.
The young saintess whispered in a small voice.
Knowing that it would never reach.
“I don't want to go, Altair.”
Because you will die.
* * *
‘Did I fall asleep?’
Iris let out a faint breath.
How long had it been since she had slept? Was it three days? She didn't remember well. It seemed she had fallen asleep in the middle of her repeated thoughts. Curled up on the bed.
The saintess's bedroom was shabby. A place modeled after the monastery of the world where she had lived her first life. A place that imitated the mold-stained walls and dusty windows. Iris had lived in a monastery until she was about ten years old, and,
‘Was I about twelve?’
after being identified as a saintess, she had soon followed the hero.
Her memories had become very blurry. To the point where she had to think for a long time for the old days to come to mind. Even then, it was distorted as if spread in water.
She had gone through too many lives and deaths. Iris's soul was as tattered as a statue that had fallen into the sea. She was just sinking in a bottomless trench.
And so, she covered it.
She took off the saintess's shabby private clothes.
She put on the magnificent duke's private clothes.
With her back to the saintess's shabby bedroom,
she set foot in the magnificent duke's bedroom.
She became uncomfortable. She made a face as if she were uncomfortable somewhere.
After wiping away the faint smile, she furrowed her brow and pressed down on her round eyes.
Creak.
The sound of a door opening.
Iris turned her back on the bedroom.
- Are you well, Your Highness?
- Are you well, Your Highness?
- Are you well, Your Highness?
The employees bowing their heads in unison.
‘……What is it?’
Iris tilted her head. Why? Why were the employees lined up in such a long line? She hadn't asked for a morning greeting.
Usually, only one lady-in-waiting would be waiting. But the lady-in-waiting was nowhere to be seen. Had something happened?
- Um, Your Highness…….
Suddenly, the head maid stood by Iris's side.
“Yes. Why have you all gathered here?”
Iris asked with her arms crossed, and,
- Um……, it's just…….
the hesitating head maid answered.
- It's just……,
it seems someone has trespassed by climbing over the wall…….
The garden is all a mess……, and the gardener is screaming…….
Abel Argento, it's you again.
Iris thought, letting out a sigh. Why did you have to sneak in when there's a perfectly good front door? It would have been better if you hadn't left a trace.
“Calm down. And……”
Iris extended her hand to the head maid.
“……Please. Give me a cigarette.”
.
.
.
Early morning, at the forge of the Orléans family villa.
Clang, clang. Amidst the sound of a hammer striking an iron ingot,
“Oh, you. It's been a while!”
An old man with a muscular body laughed heartily.
He was the head craftsman of the Orléans family.
“Have you been well? Did you like the prosthetic arm I made for you before?”
“I have been well.”
Abel had a faint smile.
After bowing his head to the craftsman, he continued.
“The quality of the prosthetic arm was very satisfactory. A living porginay must be a difficult material to handle. My top disciple is using it well.”
“Ah, well……. I did put in quite a bit of effort. The inside of that thing was covered in poison. The forge almost rotted. But it was fun. It's not often that I get to handle a living porginay, or make a prosthetic arm.”
So……, he said.
The craftsman stared at Abel.
“What brings you to me?”
Although he didn't say it, he had always thought of him as a strange man.
The craftsman had maintained Abel's gear many times. And so, he had always thought it was questionable.
All of Abel's gear were artifacts, but they were shabbily worn, and yet they had unfamiliar functions that seemed to be from the distant future. Could an artifact get so old? Or, why was advanced technology added to an old artifact? As a craftsman, he couldn't come up with an answer.
“I've come to request maintenance for my gear.”
On the other hand, Abel trusted the craftsman.
There weren't many craftsmen who could handle Abel's gear. Thanks to that, he was completely relying on the craftsman of the Orléans family.
He planned to have his equipment serviced before leaving for Portsmouth. The possibility of fighting a war of annihilation, a siege, or a defense was high. Above all, he had to protect his disciples. Abel wanted to be fully prepared.
“Alright……. My heart is pounding.”
The craftsman said, rubbing his hands together.
“Come and drop them here. I'll take a good look.”
Abel laid out his gear on the table.
Leon Baibars's magic wand, Vanessa Spencer's repeating crossbow, and finally, Maurice de Olfrange's sword breaker.
They were the keepsakes of his comrades who had been with him for over a thousand years.
“Shall we start with the magic wand? How would you like me to cook it up?”
“I'd like to destroy the existing stored spells and engrave new spells. Please store spells related to defense, purification, and identification.”
Leon Baibars's magic wand.
The craftsman extended his index finger and stroked it.
The technology of storing spells in a magic wand was not surprising. Magic wands with stored daily life magic were actively being distributed. The problem was that only daily life magic could be stored. All the magic wands distributed in Epezeria could only store spells that cleaned dirt and removed odors.
Leon Baibars's magic wand was different. It could store low-level elemental magic. He had never heard of such a technology. As a craftsman, he was just amazed.
“Next……, shall we talk about the crossbow. It's so cute every time I see it.”
“I need specially made bolts. Please fill the inside with explosives. It must be able to tear the skin of a monster.”
Vanessa Spencer's repeating crossbow.
The craftsman picked it up and looked it over.
The more he saw it, the more wonderful it was. It was the first time he had seen such a small repeating crossbow. To think that it could be held in one hand and fired easily. It was infinitely simpler and more convenient than the crossbows commonly used in Epezeria.
But there was something that was strange beyond wonderful. Unlike a repeating crossbow that loaded and fired multiple bolts, Vanessa Spencer's repeating crossbow only needed one bolt. If a bolt was loaded inside the crossbow, it could be fired infinitely. In other words, the bolt was multiplying.
“Finally, the sword breaker. This one has been abused a lot. What would you like me to do with it?”
“I had to cut a spell recently. The serrated edge must be very damaged. I'd like you to sharpen it as much as possible.”
Maurice de Olfrange's sword breaker.
The craftsman began to examine its serrated edge.
A sword breaker was usually an impractical weapon. The serrated blade was too weak to break a sword. At best, it could only block. If so, it would be better to use a shield.
Maurice de Olfrange's sword breaker was an exception. Although the serrated edge was damaged and required regular sharpening, it was possible to break weapons one after another and also cut spells. Was it because of a magical treatment? The craftsman shook his head. He couldn't figure it out at all.
“Alright……. Give me about three days. Is that okay?”
“Of course.”
Abel lowered his head.
“Thank you always. I will give you a generous reward.”
“That's alright. Her Highness Orléans will pay for it. Having a reliable sponsor is for a craftsman, more than anything……”
a happy thing,
the moment he was about to mutter,
“──Oh, Her Highness Orléans!”
The craftsman's face turned pale.
“Good morning! What brings you to such a humble place……”
“I heard that an intruder broke in.”
Abel looked back.
Iris was standing there. With her eyes narrowed.
“Good morning, Orléans……”
“Quiet, Abel. Why did you come in over the wall?”
“Because I thought you would be sleeping. I wouldn't have left a trace……”
“You've ruined the garden. My gardener is in a fuss, saying he's quitting because of you.”
“……I stepped on a clump of grass. I didn't know it was part of the garden.”
Abel scratched the back of his neck.
A clump of grass would grow back soon. He didn't think it was something to cry about.
Haa.
Iris let out a sigh.
How can that man be so indifferent? With that question, she turned around.
“Follow me, Abel. You're going back to CIAR, aren't you?”
“……Yes.”
Iris took a step, and Abel followed.
“I will go with you. I have some business to take care of.”
“What is that?”
After looking back at Abel, who was asking with a blank expression,
“……I'm going to meet the vice president.”
Iris answered, looking straight ahead again.
It was time to play with dolls.