SML Ch 64

Chapter 64

“I’m not sure I understand. Sir Reynald, how could you possibly…?”

“I’m certain of it now, Prince Arun. That thing… no, those things can read our minds!”

Shouting this, Reynald kept running through the maze. There was no guarantee that the voice they had heard from within the wall earlier belonged to the doll, but it was better to assume that everything in this maze had the ability to read human thoughts.

Mind‑reading magic falls into the category of quite advanced sorcery… Just what sort of creature is that doll?

Even if it wasn’t alive in the biological sense, the obscene gesture it had made earlier proved it had both a sense of self and emotions. And that voice from inside the wall — if it could read someone’s thoughts or past, then try to “select” them according to its own criteria, it must possess some measure of intelligence.

But to what end? There was no answer yet. Catching that doll somehow, or… finding more of those same markings, seemed to be the two options.

“…Is that the thing you saw just now, Your Highness?”

Eyes wide, Volant reached toward a section of the corridor wall. From Arun’s confused expression, it seemed he, like Reynald, could see nothing there this time. Unlike Arun, who had earlier touched the mysterious wall without hesitation, Volant looked uncertain.

“It seems only certain people can see these… Uh, my lord — is it safe for me to touch this?”

“I can’t say it’s completely safe. The prince was unharmed, but you might be a special case. Worst‑case scenario, you could end up like the crystal clockwork birds — altered in some way. Even if that doesn’t happen, something very personal you’d rather keep private might come to light.”

“In that case…”

The risk of ending up incapacitated like the crystal birds was one thing — but having one’s private history exposed to strangers was its own burden. Volant smiled as if unconcerned, though it had the air of bravado.

“Eh, it’s fine. Anything important, that brat Alex already blabbed not long ago. What past could a backwoods yokel like me possibly have worth keeping secret?”

“This has nothing to do with being a ‘backwoods yokel.’ Everyone has secrets they treasure and want to keep to themselves.”

“Hm… You say that, but I can’t think of anything like that for me. Nothing that precious.”

“It might not be that you have none — only that you fail to recognize them as precious. And those are the very things one must take special care not to neglect.”

At this, Volant wore the look of someone struck in the back of the head by revelation. Muttering, “Failing to recognize…”, he seemed to have an inkling of something.

Reynald realized, belatedly, that this probably wasn’t the best thing to say right before urging a man to reveal his past in front of others — the words could only make him hesitate more. Yet Volant, seeing Reynald’s expression, burst out laughing.

“My lord, you’re sly. Dressing it up like that, but really, you’re just telling me to go and touch the thing.”

“Well… I can understand that this might feel burdensome. But I believe that, by touching it, we may learn more about our current plight.”

“…True enough.”

“And if anything happens… I’ll do what I can to protect you.”

The phrasing of “protect” felt awkward, but Reynald had no better way to say it. If Volant ended up suffering the same fate as the crystal birds, that word would be apt enough. Even if it was a case like Arun’s, Reynald would be responsible for making sure the young man came through it without emotional harm.

“…All right. That’s good enough for me.”

Reynald thought his own promise sounded clumsy, but Volant seemed reassured, smiling faintly as he placed his hand on the wall. As with Arun before, bright light surged up from the ground, and unknown markings were etched into the stone — identical to the earlier ones.

[You have lived your whole life in this land, yet through the malice of unknown others, you have lost precious things — whether you are aware of them, or whether they are so completely forgotten that you cannot recognize them.]

“You mean the ones I’m aware of are my family? And the ones I’m not aware of…”

[It may be dangerous not to know what you have lost, but if there are those who will support you, it will be all right. You have been chosen. Please, guard this land.]

As soon as the brief words ended, just as with Arun, the markings disappeared, and the wall sank downward with a heavy rumble. Volant looked both puzzled and relieved — likely because the entity hadn’t probed into anything too deeply.

Lost something without even knowing it, was it? Reynald found himself wondering, but decided not to bring it up. Volant wouldn’t welcome it, and there was no point in asking if the man himself had no idea what it was.

“Well, that was surprisingly uneventful! It says I was ‘chosen’ too — not sure if that’s supposed to be a good thing.”

“That remains to be seen. Let’s keep moving. I have the distinct feeling there’s a marking somewhere in this maze meant for me as well.”

Could it be that the doll intended to verify the worthiness of everyone who entered this place? The thought took root in Reynald’s mind. The doll still drifted through the air ahead, dancing playfully as before — yet perhaps a little more satisfied now.

As they continued on, Arun spoke gravely.

“That repeated phrase, ‘this land,’ is bothering me. It refers to your domain, does it not, Sir Reynald?”

“That’s how it seems. Especially since Volant was told he’d lived in this land his whole life.”

“Then there is something suspicious dwelling in your domain. I can now better understand why you might choose to remain here.”

That wasn’t the reason he had intended to stay — Reynald almost said so but held his tongue. He too was beginning to realize something abnormal was at work in this land. Something apart from ratmen, Swine, or even a near‑dragonic sea‑serpent in the lake.

Judging from what it told both of them… this “selection” seems to be about choosing those worthy to defend this land.

Defend it from what? That part remained unclear — but under such criteria, it was no wonder the crystal clockwork birds had failed. They were only temporary visitors during the spring, and during their stay, they damaged far more farmland than they helped.

Arun surely wished for his mentor’s lands to be safe, and Volant, being born here, would naturally want the village to flourish. Perhaps certain peculiarities were overlooked in light of that.

But what about me?

Reynald found himself wondering whether he would meet their standard. Arun’s selection suggested that being from another place was not disqualifying, but there might yet be some separate requirement. By that measure, perhaps he fell woefully short…

And the answer came sooner than expected.

…Bloodstains?

At the end of one passage, Reynald froze before a wall covered entirely in massive streaks and smears of dried blood. Seeing his reaction, Arun and Volant halted, their expressions saying Here it comes.

“You see it, my lord?”

“I do — but tell me, may I ask you both something?”

“What is it?”

“What does it look like to you?”

“Does it look like something’s painted…? Or wait, you mean drawn, right? To me it was like a child’s crude drawing — of a dining table with family seated around it, and a figure in a black robe wearing a white mask.”

Family? Reynald turned to Arun, who after a slight hesitation said:

“It was also like a child’s drawing. A winged child who looked like a fairy, waving — as if beckoning me.”

So — they both saw naive drawings, while he alone saw nothing but wall‑to‑wall blood. Reynald felt a twinge of unease, yet he thought he understood the meaning.

An image reflecting one’s life? If so… fitting enough.

He’d spent his life slaying monsters — it was natural for blood to be there. Still, it would have been nice to have a crude drawing like the others. Surely a picture of a dragon‑slayer would be suitably impressive, wouldn’t it?

“…You don’t want to touch it, do you?” Volant asked with mild concern.

Reynald shook his head at once and placed his hand on the gore‑covered wall. It would make no sense for the other two to have done so while he refrained.

The instant he touched it, light welled up from the floor as before — but this time the markings etched into the wall were different in form, sharper and more menacing.

[Slayer.]

With that single word, the light from the floor deepened into a terrifying crimson.

[You have stained your hands with much blood — even that of a great wyrm that lived a thousand years. And you feel no shame for it.]

“Why should I? If, after living a thousand years, the only end you arrive at is sucking the lifeblood of others, then death is the better service to the people.”

Arun and Volant both looked alarmed, but Reynald met the accusation without so much as a blink.

Overhead, the doll had come to a standstill, hands clasped in a gesture almost like prayer, gazing silently down upon Reynald.