SML Ch 63

Chapter 63

The heavy scent of grass and moss lingering at the tip of his nose was what finally brought Reynald back to consciousness.

Where… am I?

Even in his dazed state — so groggy it was hard to open his eyes — Reynald instinctively knew that his feet now stood somewhere other than the middle of the wasteland. Darkness and chill could be explained away as the smoke having blocked out the sunlight, but this dense, forest‑like smell of greenery was something one could hardly find in the open barrens.

Moreover, the ground beneath him felt far softer than before. Instead of the crumbly, hard earth, almost sandy in its dryness, here it was like stepping onto an untrodden forest floor soaked with moisture after rain.

Overcoming the dizziness and forcing his eyes open, Reynald realized his instinct had been correct.

“…A forest maze?”

The place where he stood was a corridor, flanked on both sides by stone walls overgrown with moss. The upper part was open to the sky, so the dark green canopy of leaves above completely filled his vision.

As he looked around, he saw that the corridor branched in many places like a labyrinth. A faint mist lay across the maze, making it impossible to see what lay far down any given path.

One thing was certain — this was not the Swine Forest. He could tell right away from the shape of the leaves. Either they had been transported to some unknown woodland, or they were trapped in a kind of hallucination…

But that was not the most pressing issue right now.

“Prince Arun! Volant!”

He spotted Arun and Volant slumped against the wall and hurried to them. Shaking their shoulders and calling their names, he managed to rouse them before long.

“My lord? Wh–where are we?”

“Am I hallucinating? What in the world is going on…?”

“I don’t know where this is or what has happened — but I doubt it’s a place we should linger. Prince Arun, can you stand?”

Judging from what they had seen happen with the crystal clockwork birds, failing this so‑called selection would surely lead to an unpleasant fate. The birds might have survived thanks to their extraordinary durability, but there was no guarantee the same would apply to them.

He helped the two men to their feet and started moving at once. He didn’t know exactly what was going on, but if this was truly a maze, then the most obvious solution seemed to be to escape it. Obstacles were to be expected along the way, of course—

[……!]

“Wah! Don’t jump out like that, you bastard!”

Sure enough, scattered throughout the corridors, statues that had stood like mere decorations suddenly lunged at them. They didn’t attack openly, but struck in the instant Reynald’s party passed close by — eyes flashing before swinging their swords.

“Aren’t these statue bastards being cowardly now? Hiding in plain sight like they’ve got camouflage — and they’re not even octopuses!”

“Indeed. The surroundings are already dim, and with moss covering everything, they blend in even without trying — no wonder you can’t see them until you’re close!”

Fortunately, even while complaining, Volant managed to avoid the blows. All the training from countless sparring sessions was paying off. Arun, being a trained swordsman himself, could evade such attacks without trouble, so Reynald wasn’t overly concerned on that front.

However, as he mulled over his own careless remark from moments earlier, a strange realization came to Reynald.

Could it be that the moss‑covered knights originally lived here?

This damp, overgrown maze seemed far more fitting for such creatures than the middle of a barren wasteland with not a blade of grass. Perhaps the ruin they had seen earlier was not their true home at all — or else, long ago, the ruin had stood in the middle of a forest like this, until the surrounding terrain changed for some reason…

But Reynald didn’t have time to dwell on it. Arun suddenly widened his eyes and pointed into the air.

“Sir Reynald — there! The doll!”

Indeed — it was the very wind‑up doll that had sprayed smoke at them earlier, now drifting lazily in midair with carefree, fluttering movements, like laundry blowing on the breeze.

He didn’t know what the light source was, but a faint glow emanated from the doll, allowing Reynald to take in more details of its appearance.

About the size of an adult man’s palm, the doll wore loose, snow‑white clothes much like the ceremonial garb of foreign priests. A pointed white hat upon its head lent it a somewhat wizard‑like aspect.

Its limbs were rather long, but the ends poking from its sleeves were blunted, without hands or feet. The face was simple — just two semicircular black buttons sewn where the eyes should be.

So it was a cloth doll? I didn’t notice before, but up close it’s actually quite filthy and grimy…

The moment Reynald thought that, the doll suddenly turned its head sharply their way, as though having noticed them — and perhaps even glared with narrowed eyes. Then, making strange movements with its arms, it flashed them a hand signal.

“…That little bugger just insulted us.”

“You can hear the doll’s voice, Volant? I hear nothing.”

“No, I don’t hear it either. It’s just… his gestures. Ah, prince, you don’t know what a ‘fist potato’^2 is? That motion is a type of vulgar gesture — a crude insult.”

As Volant chuckled and began explaining the obscene hand sign to Arun, Reynald kept his eyes fixed on the doll. Could it be that it was responding to his own thought about it being “filthy and grimy”?

There was no way to prove it, but it felt uncomfortably as if his mind had been read. A chill ran down his spine. The doll stared back for a moment longer, then spun around abruptly as if taunting him, and drifted off again.

“Whether it swore at us or not doesn’t matter. We’re chasing it.”

“Ch–chasing it?!”

“That doll is the root of this whole mess! If we catch it, we might learn something!”

With that, Reynald dashed off after it.

But chasing it was easier said than done — the maze’s paths twisted and turned, rarely forming a straight route. In their haste, they could easily run into a dead end, forcing them to detour far around.

The doll, meanwhile, flitted here and there, constantly changing directions as though deliberately mocking them. Even if Reynald picked the right path, the wall‑hopping doll moved much faster. If it was determined to shake them off, running alone would be futile.

Could it be deliberately distracting us so we never find the real exit? Or is there another method of pursuit we should use instead…?

Either scenario seemed plausible, adding to the headache. Dodging pursuing statues as he ran, Reynald thought furiously. If their way forward hinged on either finding the exit or catching the doll, which seemed the more viable?

Wait — start with the important point. The crystal clockwork birds would’ve found this maze meaningless — they can fly!

Which meant they couldn’t have met their fate here simply because they failed to find an exit. And they certainly wouldn’t have been attacked by the statues on the ground.

So was it that they had failed to capture the doll in time? Or perhaps there was some entirely different cause, one they hadn’t imagined? Reynald’s mind was racing when—

“Wait, Sir Reynald! On that wall…!”

Just as he reached another dead end and began to turn back, Arun pointed urgently at the blocked wall. Reynald saw nothing out of the ordinary, but Arun, looking as though entranced by something there, stepped forward and reached out his hand.

“What, there’s something there? I don’t see a thing.”

Volant seemed equally oblivious, which meant Reynald’s eyes weren’t the problem.

But the moment Arun’s hand touched the wall, a bright light welled up from the earthen floor beneath them, and strange markings appeared across the wall’s surface. The patterns felt magical but were unfamiliar, unlike standard magic circles.

From within the markings came a voice — distant, as though whispering from far away.

[Ah… a prince who has visited the realm of the fae.]

The sound resembled the statues’ voices they had heard before, yet was somehow distinct. Upon hearing it, Arun’s face went pale.

No wonder — the fact the voice had spoken was a secret known to only the smallest circle at the royal court: the king, the royal family, and a few select mages.

“Who are you?! How do you know that…!”

[Prince belonging to two worlds, and yet to none — for you, the question is not what kind of land this is, but who holds it dear.]

[If that heart serves this land in the end, then so much the better. You have been chosen. Please, guard this place.]

“What is this ‘selection’? No — answer me properly! How did you learn that?!”

But the voice faded, ignoring Arun’s demand. In its place, the markings vanished, and the wall itself began sliding down into the ground. The light streaming from the floor disappeared just as quickly.

Beyond the newly opened passage lay only more of the same dim, moss‑covered maze they had been running through before. Above, amidst the thick canopy, the dirty white doll was still there, dancing merrily.

^1 “Fist potato” – A rough, colloquial term for a specific obscene gesture made by clenching the fist with a thumb protruding between the index and middle finger; considered vulgar in certain cultures.