Chapter 122: Chapter 122

I had three questions.

First, what was the sentence written at the end of Kevin Ashton's book? What does it mean...?

Lost in thought, I tapped my arm. The message was written elegantly, yet it had an eerie feel to it. In my previous life, when I had read that sentence, the world around me had wavered, so it definitely had a connection to me.

But what fragments? What had broken, and how?

There aren't any clues in the book, either.

Secondly, a new number appeared beneath the sentence.

Maybe it had just appeared by chance, but it definitely hadn't been there before. The difference between my last visit and now was about a month and a half.

Did someone write this message during that time? It was suspicious, yet I could not guess what it meant.

The third question was about my Assimilation Rate. The first time I read this book, my Assimilation Rate had dropped significantly. But now, even with the newly appearing number, it remained unchanged.

Why is that? Has it already been reflected?

I closed the book with none of my questions answered.

A small breeze stirred. A dingsounded, and a message appeared, informing me that my Wisdom stat had increased to 51.

In the past, I would have considered this stat useless because it had no direct combat benefits whatsoever. But now, it was directly linked to Sword Energy, particularly the stability and duration. I couldn't help but welcome the increase.

All the effort I had put into reading Kevin Ashton's books had paid off. Perhaps because of that, I couldn't absorb Wisdom from the countless imperial knights that Gith-Za-Rai had killed—including their commander, Isabelle.

Is my Wisdom stat on the higher side?

It felt like I was finally beginning to use it properly. Besides Sword Energy, it was common knowledge that higher Wisdom increased magic potency.

I had absorbed numerous skills from two wizards. Someday, I would have the chance to use them. Even though I lacked an Arcane Heart to use magic, I could probably find a workaround, just like with Sword Energy.

I reached into my coat and pulled out Webslinger's Ruby. Holding the red gemstone in my hand, I gently ran my fingers over it. A status window appeared in the air.

[For a long time, the Webslinger fed on humans as its primary prey. Over time, its victims' wails and screams condensed into a red crystal.]

Could I use this as a substitute for an Arcane Heart?

I pressed the ominously glowing gemstone against the inside of my ribs. The heart and gem were both red, so I wondered if it could fulfill some kind of function, but it was pointless. Nothing happened. I was about to put the ruby back.

The wolf cub suddenly leaped toward me as if asking to play.

It scratched at me with its tiny paws. Bouncing lightly on its back legs, it tried to nip at my arm. But its jumps were weak, perhaps due to its brittle little bones.

I didn't want it to bite metal, so I removed my armor and extended my arm. The cub opened its jaws wide and gave my arm a light nibble. The way its tailbone wiggled felt oddly comforting. I placed the book on the bedside table and gently stroked its skull and spine.

Both the cub and I were clinging desperately to the edge of existence. We clawed onto the rocky cliffs, barely holding on. Below was a sheer drop. Above was an unforgiving climb.

The only difference between us was that I had slightly stronger arms. The cub clung tightly to my hand as I petted it. At least I hadn't left it trapped in a snare, alone through the cold winter.

Should I take it with me...?

I picked up a soft cloth pouch from inside the lodge.

Carrying the skeleton wolf cub, I stepped out of the lodge and set off for Grassmere. The lodge stood atop the mountain. The descent wasn't difficult. Perhaps having adjusted to its form, the wolf cub clattered as it ran across the damp ground. The fallen leaves were soaked.

Every time the cub's bony feet struck the leaves, tiny wisps of mist rose from the damp autumn foliage. The destination wasn't far.

In the distance, a massive castle loomed.

It's much bigger than Yublam, and it has a dual-wall structure.

There was a several dozen-meter gap between the first and second walls. The moat was deeper and wider than any I had seen before. Even Marquis Leandro wouldn't be able to break through it with just his bare fists.

Not that castles are meant to be punched apart in the first place.

I shook my head, dispelling the ridiculous thought. I lifted the running wolf cub into my arms. I couldn't risk it being seen by humans. I opened the large pouch I had taken from the lodge.

[Affection is 20 or higher!]

[Success rate of communication has increased!]

The cub nodded, then curled up inside on its own. The space was roomy. I felt it wriggling for a moment, but soon it settled down quietly.

I was approaching a human city, which almost certainly meant it was hostile ground. I had to be cautious.

As I carefully scanned my surroundings while descending the mountain, I sensed a human presence ahead.

There were about a dozen or so. It was too large a crowd to be intimidated by a knight's armor alone. If anything, they would see the armor as loot, while the wearer would probably be tortured or roasted alive.

This might get a little troublesome.

I carefully observed the situation. The men were gathered at the base of the mountain, murmuring among themselves. I slowed my steps and listened in on their conversation. All the voices were male. Thanks to my Detection skill, I could hear them clearly.

"Ugh, last time we came here, we got delayed because of those lot too."

"Is it a different group this time?"

"Yeah. We're getting chased out again. It looks like the war is actually going to happen."

"What's your profession?"

"I'm a Kazuarin specialist chef."

"It's a fish with poisonous innards. The flesh around it is the most delicious, but you have to carefully separate it without puncturing the intestines..."

Their conversation continued for a while. It became clear that they weren't bandits. They were travelers of various professions, seemingly strangers to each other.

It wouldn't be a problem to approach them.

I deliberately made my footsteps audible as I approached them. Their conversation paused for a moment.

A dozen men turned to look at me simultaneously, murmuring in low voices. "Who... are you ?"

A man in a green robe asked in a friendly tone, "Are you also headed to Grassmere?"

He looked unusual. He had short black hair and a neatly groomed appearance, but with oddly deep eyes. Despite seemingly in his late thirties or early forties, his gaze sparkled with childlike curiosity, brimming with a thirst for knowledge about the world.

"I see. However..." The man in the green robe pointed toward the castle. "You won't be able to enter for the time being. Look over there."

The location where they had gathered provided a clear view of the castle. There was a reason they were standing here.

Beyond the Grassmere Castle's walls, I saw something I hadn't noticed before—a gate extending outward, with soldiers standing nearby. There were about forty of them, armed with longswords and crossbows.

Beside them, five empty carts stood still.

Are they planning to load something?

The man in the green robe spoke again, almost as if reading my thoughts.

"They're here to buy weapons. Lately, there have been more and more of them."

He pointed toward a knight on horseback. "See that man over there? He's probably a noble from a nearby city, or maybe some military officer."

The knight, clad in finely crafted armor, seemed to be in a heated argument against the Grassmere's guards.

What are they talking about?

I sat down a short distance away from the group of travelers.

Using both skills significantly improved the results. The range and clarity of my perception expanded. I didn't even need to ask for information. Even though I was hundreds of meters away from the castle gate, I could listen in without difficulty.

"We do not engage in exclusive contracts."

"Like I said, this isn't an exclusive contract!"

"If we're to supply that many weapons, our forges would have to work on nothing else for months."

"Can't you just produce them as needed? You must have plenty in stock already!"

"We take our business seriously. Every item is sold the moment it's produced—everything is already reserved."

The same argument repeated itself.

The knight furiously raised his voice, demanding to know why they wouldn't sell to him when he'd pay a hefty sum. But the massive guards of Grassmere, their arms as thick as pine trunks, remained unwavering.

"This is ridiculous! Get me the person in charge! Do you even know who I am?!"

"I am the person in charge."

Just as the pointless exchange was beginning to bore me, the green-robed man said, "You don't seem fazed. Aren't you curious about what's happening over there?"

"In situations , there are usually two kinds of people who don't care." The man continued speaking to himself. "Either they're confident they can handle anything, or they already know everything."

I didn't say anything.

"Either way, you're an interesting person. I'd wager you're a distinguished knight."

He's surprisingly sociable.

Despite me ignoring him the whole time, he kept striking up conversation.

It seemed like the commotion at the castle gate would continue for a while.

I glanced at the man and asked, "So, Grassmere is refusing to sell their weapons?"

His face brightened, seemingly pleased by my question. But the words that followed didn't match his cheerful expression.

"It means... war is coming."

"The lords have received conscription orders."

"They all want to equip their armies with Grassmere's steel." The man pointed back toward the castle gate. "That's why they're so desperate to force a sale."

I observed him quietly. He didn't seem to have any strong opinions about war. His expression remained neutral.

"Did you know? Apparently, Grassmere's steel is forged with the knowledge of spirits and demons from ancient tombs!" The man in the green robe swallowed hard.

I had never heard of that before.

The man smiled and nodded. "That's right."

"Haha, you enjoy these kinds of stories, don't you? Of course, I'll tell you."

Inside my pouch, the wolf cub's skeleton suddenly shifted slightly.

You want to listen too?

I discreetly covered the pouch with my arms. The man didn't seem to notice anything strange and continued, "Ahem! During the chaotic era when the Empire and the Alliance were breaking apart, there was a sorcerer who ruled the South. He gathered architects and blacksmiths from all over the world... to build his own tomb."

I frowned. "...Why blacksmiths?"

"To forge iron golems that would protect his grave."

"Then, it must have turned into a dungeon."

The man nodded. "Exactly. They say he built a vast underground necropolis and summoned elemental spirits to harden the earth around it."

"And its exact location?"

"So it's just a legend."

"Well... it's not entirely baseless. The descendants of the blacksmiths he gathered are the ones who turned Grassmere into the city of weapons."

"Descendants? What about the blacksmiths themselves?"

"The sorcerer cursed them. He took their souls and trapped them inside his iron golems—forcing them to guard his tomb forever."

"Believe it or not, some say their souls appear in the dreams of their descendants, passing down their forging techniques."

"I'm no sorcerer or mage, so I can't say for sure."

I recalled something Lady Succubus once told me. She told me that golems always synchronize best with their creators. A dungeon where ancient blacksmiths' souls were sealed into golems sounded plausible. Could it be somewhere nearby?

As I pondered, the green-robed man said, "Oops, I got a bit carried away with the story. Those fools are staging a protest to get more weapons, but it's pointless. Because..."

A massive mechanical structure appeared atop Grassmere's outer walls.

My Detection skill didn't pick up anything, but the sound of its thunderous movements echoed all the way to us.

The man beside me smirked. "They'll be running away soon enough."