SML Ch 62

Chapter 62

It was a small doll with a wind‑up key embedded in its back. Though the distance made it hard to see clearly, it appeared mostly white — somewhat dirty, but seemingly crafted with great care.

Strange… Have the moss‑covered knights ever carried such a doll before?

While Reynald was still puzzling over this, the knight statue grasped the doll in both hands and lifted it high toward the sky. The wind‑up key in its back began turning on its own, squealing so loudly that the sound carried even to where they stood. Finally, when the birds had nearly reached the field—

[Creatures who have forgotten their purpose, leaving only greed behind. Commence selection.]

One of the statues uttered these strange words, and in response, the doll raised both its arms high, as though offering some kind of supplication.

“What is that… smoke?”

From between the doll’s uplifted arms began to drift a shrouding white vapor — at first so faint and feeble it could have been mistaken for a tiny flame sputtering into life at the tips of its arms. Yet in no time, it spread outward at startling speed, engulfing the entire flock of incoming birds.

Crash. Crack. Clang. From within the smoke came the sounds of glass and metal shattering — unbelievable, considering that crystal clockwork birds could not normally be broken by ordinary force.

More astonishing still was what happened after the smoke cleared.

[The selection is complete. Those without the courage to face the trial have been found wanting.]

Glass had surely shattered — yet the birds remained intact. Only, they trembled ceaselessly as if stricken by terror, flapping frantically to escape. Some could barely control their wings, while others flew upside‑down, their bellies toward the sky.

It made sense if one assumed something horrifying had happened to them within the smoke — but how such an effect could be wrought upon mechanical beings like the crystal clockwork birds remained a mystery. Ordinary magic could never accomplish it.

What on earth is that wind‑up doll?

Reynald stared hard at it, eyes narrowed. In all his encounters with these strange statues among ruins in various regions, not once had he seen one possessing a doll like this.

He had never even heard such a thing reported by other hunting parties. A statue carrying a doll of such unusual power would certainly have been noticed, and word would have spread.

Is this something only the statues of this domain possess? How did they come into its possession?

Arun, too, seemed to recognize how abnormal this was, exchanging a grave look with Reynald. But someone who did not — for example, the young Volant — simply reacted with cheerful surprise.

“Wow! So the statues were actually really strong after all! I always thought they were worthless since the ratmen kept plundering their harvests!”

That couldn’t be true. Though the statues were indeed formidable, they did not normally display their power in this way. Arun sighed lightly before saying to Volant:

“No, Volant. This seems to be the inherent power of the doll itself, not of the statue. Moss‑covered knights in other regions neither possess such dolls nor wield such strength.”

“Oh, really? Then maybe they stole it from somewhere? Or just found it lying around?”

While not impossible, such a potent artifact was unlikely to be casually abandoned. Reynald considered this but could not be certain — after all, this land was home to Swine who owned iron mines, and to Orthos Serpents dwelling in the lake. Common sense was not always applicable here.

Perhaps it had been found by chance. But if not… why did these statues, unlike their kin in other ruins, come to have such a doll? While Reynald pondered, Volant’s eyes lit up and he whispered:

“My lord, what if we took it? It’d be incredibly useful, wouldn’t it?”

Volant’s tone was half‑joking, but tinged with genuine intent. Reynald could guess his thinking: with such a doll, they could drive off not just crystal clockwork birds, but countless other monsters.

After all, the statues were not living beings that needed food, nor were they seen fighting other monsters regularly. Volant could easily judge they had no need for it.

“And how would you take it?”

“Well, given they just spoke, maybe they can actually communicate. If we offered them a set amount of food in exchange for the doll, they might agree. Then they wouldn’t have to farm, and we could fend off monsters easily — good for both sides, right?”

“My friend, speaking a language doesn’t mean true communication is possible… They are not the sort of monsters you can persuade like that. They say only what they wish to say — and for some reason, they have a fixation on their farmland.”

Even though the moss‑covered knights clearly spoke human language, the reason their goals remained unknown was simple: no matter how much one tried, conversation never worked. They would only spout cryptic phrases at their own whim, with no intent to communicate with humans.

Ask them why they farm, or to whom they make their offerings, and you get nothing. Propose giving them the grain instead so you can use their land, and at best there is no answer — at worst, they attack without warning.

Truly incomprehensible creatures. Ratmen or Swine are at least understandable — they simply fight to survive.

Left alone, they harmed no one, so they could be called harmless. Yet Reynald found such unreadable monsters all the more unsettling. A creature whose motives were opaque might act unpredictably at any time — and most troubling, what to them was unpredictable to others was often simply following their own incomprehensible rules.

Perhaps that was why Reynald felt uneasy at Volant’s careless suggestion:

“What about stealing it? Or taking it by force? It doesn’t even seem like it’s really theirs — better it be used by those who need it.”

It didn’t seem wise to Reynald. If the statues had merely found or taken the doll from humans, the guilt might be less — but provoking them could bring far greater trouble.

“…Huh?”

It was then that the statues, having turned back to their farming after repelling the birds, all suddenly turned their heads toward Reynald’s party. Though their features were buried in moss, a piercing gaze could be felt.

[There — greedy ones.]

It wasn’t the voice of just one statue. All of them together spoke, the sound heavy and overwhelming, as though reverberating through the earth itself.

Wait, what?

Had they heard that conversation just now? It wasn’t spoken right beside them, but from a fair distance. While Reynald and Volant exchanged startled looks, the statues continued:

[Fortunately, their greed has a purpose.]

[They do not know what they intend, but perhaps they have the power to achieve their desire.]

[They may be worth selecting — unlike before.]

Selecting? What did that mean? Reynald had been wondering ever since they first used that word. Had moss‑covered knights in other regions ever spoken similarly? As far as he could remember — never.

These ones are different from their kind elsewhere. Is it because of the doll?

At first he thought they had merely picked it up and used it at will — but perhaps it was the reverse. Perhaps the doll, with its strange power, was the one manipulating the moss‑covered knights.

In any case, now was not the time to debate which was true.

[Commence selection. Let them face the trial.]

No sooner had they all proclaimed this than the small doll, still held in one statue’s hands, once again thrust both arms skyward. Which could only mean—

“Get down, everyone!”

They tried to flee immediately, but it was already too late. The smoke the wind‑up doll spewed closed in with the speed and accuracy of a bird of prey, wrapping around the three of them completely. In an instant, all sight was swallowed by the white haze.

“Hey! Why us? You let the ratmen steal your crops, but now this? Are you biased against humans or something!?”

“How could this possibly be the same, fool! The ratmen probably only took the leftover grain after the festival!”

Reynald shouted this at Volant, but even to him, the statues’ actions felt odd. They hadn’t truly rushed in to steal anything — it had just been an idle remark — so why such hostility? Weren’t they usually indifferent so long as one didn’t enter their domain?

“This domain is strange indeed, Sir Reynald! There are too many things that make no sense!”

Arun yelled, his face ashen — and then the smoke swallowed him. Just before his own vision vanished entirely, Reynald glimpsed Serna and Alex running toward them from afar.

At least let those two avoid the smoke — then they can use the Golden Mirror to resolve this…!

What was once pure white began to darken. His head grew heavy and clouded — the smoke must have had some property that knocked people unconscious.

All they had come for was to find a safe method to drive away the crop‑destroying birds — so how had it come to this? No… wasn’t that “goal” just an excuse? In truth, Reynald’s real aim had been closer to uncovering the reason for Alex’s gloom.

Had Serna and Alex managed to speak openly with each other? That incongruous thought was the last to pass through his mind before Reynald briefly lost consciousness.