Chapter 57: If you stray away from the Fire...

Tobias grasped the spear he requested over a week ago, but only received a few hours earlier. It was the Spearwall Town Blacksmiths’ specialty; durable, reliable, and effective hunting spears.

With an eight foot long wooden shaft that felt solid, it withstood Tobias’ attempts at snapping it in half, even if he tried to snap it over his knee. It also possessed excellent balance, and he instinctively knew that it could be thrown if needed be. The end of the spear shaft also had four, small metal spikes arranged like a flower, but that wasn’t the main spear point.

The best aspect of this spear belonged to its blade. The steel used was muddled gray in color – the Blacksmith didn’t bother to polish the blade, claiming that it would only glint and alert every monster’s senses on the hunt. Its shape was a broad, diamond-shaped spear blade which had two sharpened edges and a wickedly sharp point. A few inches from the spear point, there was a metal cross section which reminded him of a sword guard.

The Blacksmith told him that such a spear guard was used so that a person could stop even a giant charging boar; by planting the rear spikes on the ground for support, and in combination with the spear guard, such an impossible feat was made possible with ingenuity.

Truly... This spear was simply too optimized for hunting. And Tobias knew that in a nutshell, it would also function well in Magical Dungeons provided that there was enough space to maneuver such a weapon to begin with.

No use getting distracted. It was time to focus on the hunt – and by extension, his surroundings.

The colors of green and orange melded together – it was still somewhere between early-mid autumn, and the combination of fresh leaves with crumpled, dying leaves was an almost mystical sight to behold even if he had seen it time and time again.

He kept his senses sharp, as he carefully walked around, careful not to leave any footprints or to make much noise.

...!

There, he heard something move. He held his spear at the ready, and carefully, silently approached the direction of the noise.

He slowly approached a tree, and hid himself behind it. And after a few moments, he peeked out, only using his right eye to minimize exposure.

There was a Monster.

A chicken’s head, yet it possessed a multi-colored scaly, bird-shaped body. Its wings were black and leathery, and more so belonged to a bat than a chicken-headed monster. A leathery, whip-like tail lazily flicked about, and its talons – too wickedly sharp to ever belong to a beloved domestic animal.

He had read this before in that Encyclopedia before; It was Cockatrice.

This one was still too small – it was as tall as half of his total height. It was too young to develop its dangerous, fabled stunning eye-gaze ability. So he knew that this encounter would be relatively safe as long as he landed the first, decisive strike.

If it was big, and already developed such eye-gaze ability... He would only either blind it with his throwing knives first, or opt not to meet it in the eye. It was said that while it was still somewhat difficult to move under its gaze like something was weighing down one’s limbs, at least it wasn’t impossible.

Well, no more speculating. It was time to move.

He carefully raised the spear.

While Cockatrices possessed (eventually) powerful gazes, they didn’t have clear eye vision. So as long as there wasn’t any sudden movements, they wouldn’t notice anything in front of them.

And when Tobias aimed the spear at its head, he threw it with all of his might; His legs had tensed, his torso rotated to give his throw more power, his arm rushed forwards, and he opened his fingers as he threw it to give it one last push.

The spear quickly pierced the air, before it ripped away the Cockatrice’s head, impaling it on a nearby tree with a satisfying thud. The body stood still, moving about lazily as if its head was still attached... but then it went on a rampage, as if it finally realized that its head was gone.

Its bat-like wings flapped around, creating powerful gusts of winds which shook the trees’ leaves, while its tail lashed at the trees and the ground, creating slashes and gouges. And finally, after a few seconds, it crumpled, and died.

He slowly stared at the dead Cockatrice’s head, impaled on the tree. Its eyes were blank, and it was killed entirely unaware. But more importantly, he looked at the spear...

It was much more devastating than he anticipated.

... But that was only natural, wasn’t it? This spear was developed to hunt wild, magical monsters in mind. It was only inevitable that it would be this effective at its job.

No matter. Tobias’ right hand firmly grasped the spear’s shaft, before he pulled it out without any further thought. Blood splattered from the Cockatrice’s head, before it dropped to the ground with a morbid thud now that the spear didn’t pin it in place.

It was time to move on.

...

Once more, he slowly marched past countless trees, making sure to stay somewhat close to the path. But he made sure not to be directly on the path, because it was terribly exposed and cleared out.

This was... the real Path to Strength, wasn’t it?

His spear was ready, his sword and dagger easily drawn in a moment’s notice if he needed to... He was more than ready to hunt whatever Monster was unlucky enough to cross his path.

And after a while, the monster that greeted him... Was a Drakos. It was covered all over in green, scale-armored hide, and occasionally had red streak-like patterns of scales. It was as large as a horse, and was on all four legs.

It noticed Tobias.

And while Drakos were no dragons... they were still capable of one devastating thing; elemental breaths. So its maw opened, as blue-white sparks began to charge, and Tobias had one thought in mind;

Lightning.

***

“Hey hey, Sistine.” Clara asked, as soon as she opened the door. When she stepped in, she carefully closed the door behind her, making sure not to slam it. “How are you?”

“Hi hi!” The white-haired girl said, turning around to face her. She gave a beaming smile, which was received by the brown-haired girl with a subtle smile. “I’m doing alright, thank you.”

“That’s great!” She replied, before she seated herself right across Sistine. Clara’s hand carefully moved, before brushing aside a strand which covered Sistine’s face. “You have really pretty hair, you know? Did your parents also have snow-like hair?”

Sistine offered a hollow smile. “This one... I don’t remember my parents...”

Clara’s smile faltered. “I-I see... I’m sorry. I didn’t know...”

“It’s okay. Since I don’t really remember my parents, that means I don’t really care about them.” She replied, shrugging. “Anyways, your hair is also very pretty. It’s like the color of light wood, like the ones they use for furniture.”

“Hah... That’s not exactly the first time someone compared my hair to wood, though.”

“It can’t be helped. Your hair is brown, that’s why.” Sistine said, as she instinctively raised her hand to sweep another hair strand across her face.

“Mhm, yeah.” Clara nodded. “Hey, do you want me to tie your hair so you wouldn’t have to do that every now and then?”

Sistine paused. But then, looking at those black eyes of hers, she only seemed to have the best intentions in mind... Clara wasn’t dangerous, and something inside of her told her that she could be trusted...

“This one... I would appreciate it if you did.” She carefully nodded.

And with her permission, the brown-haired girl slipped past her, before kneeling on the space behind her. Sistine felt her fingers gently caress her hair, and she felt them carefully brush through her locks of snow-like hair.

Some part of her body wanted to shiver whenever fingers touched her neck, but she didn’t. She only felt warmth, where she should have been revolted.

“Hey... speaking of which, why do you refer to yourself as ‘this one’ before saying ‘I’?” Clara asked.

Sistine blinked, before gently shaking her head. “I don’t know... It always comes out by instinct, and I only realize it when I already said it...”

“I see.” Clara intoned, before she rubbed her head.

The gesture was... affectionate. And Sistine somehow enjoyed it to some degree...

“But aren’t you making my hair messier than it already is?” Sistine asked.

“Oh. My bad, it felt like you needed it, aha aha...”

“This one... I liked that, I think.”

“... There it is again.”

“...”

“...”

“A-anyways!” Clara announced suddenly, before coughing. “Me and Tobias talked about what we should do with you, really... He wanted to send you to either his family, or to his friends if you could fight. So uhm... could you fight?”

“I could... I think.” Sistine nodded, unsure of herself. “But what about you...? Are you coming with me?”

“That’s...” She fell silent for a while, only continuing to tie her hair into a braid. When a section was done, she spoke up again. “I can only stay with you while we’re traveling to send you to them... I am obligated to Tobias, you see...”

She blinked. “Why are you obligated? Are you his slave...?”

“N-no! Of course not!” Clara stammered back loudly, and Sistine flinched from her voice. “How do you even know that... wait, no. I mean, I’m not his slave, but I am obligated to him still.”

“Obligation... This one knows that word well, but I don’t remember why...” She muttered lowly, before she shook her head. “What are you obligated to him about?”

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of questions...” Clara slowly began, as she finally finished tying her white hair into a singular braid. When Sistine touched her newly braided hair, she let out a small smile. “But to say the least... I am his Keeper.”

Keeper.

Keeper.

Keeper.

Sistine’s mind completely halted at the word.

...

And there it was, those underground, labyrinthine tunnels of stone and steel.

The cells used to hold them were cold, damp, and lifeless, aside from the very subjects they were holding.

As he sat in that cell, his back against the cold, stone wall, he saw a person stop by the outside of his cell. With hands too white, too small – too innocent to ever belong to a monster’s, those hands which belonged to a child wrapped around the iron-bars which served as a two-way window into and out of his prison.

“Hey... are you alright?”

“Are you okay?” Sistine slowly turned towards the voice who called out to her. It was Clara, and her face was flustered. “W-what? Why are you crying?”

“This one... I don’t know...” She replied, as she felt a tear roll across her cheek. “This one... I remembered something from the past... But I’m not sure what it is...”

In the next instance, she felt a pair of arms carefully, gently wrap around her, and Sistine was greeted by the sight of brown, gently curling hair. The scent of recently washed hair, and her lightly sweet, fruit-like fragrance greeted her sense of smell.

“There, there...” Clara cooed, as she gently patted her back. “It’s alright. I’m here to listen to you if you want to talk...”

“... Mhm...”

And with that subtle noise, not even fit to be called a word, Sistine hesitantly began her story.

... Sistine couldn’t help it. Clara was too caring, too warm, and too gentle. She felt like a mother she never had...

***

Clara carefully listened to Sistine’s story... Not that there was much to listen to, unfortunately.

The only thing she remembered was coming out from stone-buildings in the ground, before walking in the forests for the longest while. Whenever she encountered a monster, she would either fight it, or run away, and she survived like that.

And that’s when Sistine found them. Or rather, Tobias and Clara found her.

It seemed like her memories weren’t quite intact, and while Clara was no expert in the matters of the mind, it seemed like something traumatic (was the term correct?) happened, and now, Sistine didn’t remember anything about her life.

So she tightly hugged the younger girl in front of her, while she slowly rubbed her back. The white-haired girl said nothing, but only lightly returned the hug, while silently sobbing to herself.

“This is strange...” Sistine slowly whispered. “I don’t feel sad, but why am I crying...?”

“That’s only normal.” Clara replied, as she continued to rub her back in gentle, soothing circles. “Now that you remembered something from your life... Maybe you feel relieved, because it means that you will eventually learn who you were.”

“Mhm...” She hummed, before she withdrew from the embrace. “Thank you. This one feels better now, I think...”

The brown-haired girl beamed at her. “Maybe once you get your memories back, maybe you’ll finally know why you keep referring to yourself as ‘this one’.”

“I hope so...” Sistine yawned, before she covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sleepy.”

“That’s alright, you should sleep. You deserve to sleep a lot now.” She nodded, and at her words, the white-haired girl collapsed in her bed, and after a few minutes of watching, she heard her lightly snore.

... She really had been through a lot recently, hadn’t she?

Clara carefully stood up from the bed, before kneeling by her side. She looked at Sistine’s face while she was sleeping, and she noted that the white-haired girl was very, very beautiful.

She raised her finger, and carefully twirled one of the white locks of hair. It was smooth as silk, and had the scent of fragrant soaps. Clara did meticulously clean out Sistine’s hair, after all.

A skin so fair, it was almost too pale... hair of pure white, it was like snow... and it seemed even her memories were wiped clean by something terrible.

And out of everything else... She felt a kinship with this girl in front of her. Her heart ached with overflowing sympathy for this girl, and it took every ounce of willpower she had to prevent herself from crying as well when she told her tale.

... And for the first time, Clara found herself doubting – found herself hesitating about her obligations and duties.

Did she really need to keep following Tobias around? He was already fine on his own, and by all accounts, he probably functioned better without having to keep an eye on her. She didn’t want to admit it, but maybe she was slowing him down, because of her concern about him.

... Concern that was most definitely unneeded, but one he made sure to still thank her for, anyways. Why is Tobias so kind like that?

So now that there was this girl... Who was terribly alone, and terribly confused like a newborn child... She wanted to help Sistine. She wanted to help her regain her memories, and it wasn’t just because she pitied her or anything. She really did feel like they were bonded and connected with each other in some strange, familial way that she couldn’t really know why.

Maybe... She’ll let Tobias do his own things alone. And maybe, just maybe, it was the right call to stay out of his way while she gets to take care of Sistine.

... But even if it seemed like a victory for everyone involved, why does her chest ache? Why does her heart beat out pangs of hollow pain, as if she was making a large mistake on her part? Why exactly... did she even have to make a choice to begin with?

... No.

All she had to do was to take a page out of Tobias’ book, and strengthen her heart, did she not? So she took a deep breath, and with new winds surging through her, she found her doubts swept away by the very winds she breathed in.

Clara decided.

For once, she would ignore her voice of heart, and listen to voice of reason.

***

Tobias slowly withdrew the hunting spear from the Drakos’ scale-covered hide. His opponent lied on the ground, unmoving, and he knew that he won that encounter.

This spear... was the thing that saved him from its shocking breath.

Lightning currents naturally sought after metal. Even forged steel was no exception – the lightning-sparked breath of the Drakos immediately surged towards the tip of the hunting spear, and because wood was an excellent insulator, it was contained there.

... But it suffered damage. The part where the iron-tip met wood was badly scorched, as the lightning no doubt caused too much heat. But it still held, and was still powerful enough to pierce through scale-like hide, but now he wasn’t sure if he could do it again.

As Tobias stared at the spear, he recalled what happened.

The moment it stopped spewing its lightning breath, he instantly rushed in to pierce its head. A well-aimed thrust, in combination with his reliable, powerful spear meant that the sharpened steel pierced through scale, hide, and bone alike with little to no resistance.

But it was still alive. His attack was not decisive.

And the Drakos charged another charged breath, and this time, his spear was still stuck in its scale-covered hide. He wouldn’t be able to use it as a lightning rod in time.

So he did the second best thing; he raised his left arm, and used his left arm to plug the Drakos’ gaping mouth. While his favored blue coat was thick enough to prevent most of the damage, it was still burnt and fried by such an attack.

“Sssss...!”

There were countless tree-like branching scorch marks where lightning crashed through cloth, and if his blue coat wasn’t as thick or as well made as it was, he knew that it would have pierced through the cloth, and would had been the end of his left arm.

But the arm he used to plug its gaping mouth – it was only badly burnt, especially since it was being electrified by a lightning breath. It just so happened to be covered with a thick layer of cloth to prevent direct contact.

And after that, Tobias had finally aimed for its heart. So he finally raised his spear, ignored the pain coming from his burned left arm, and pierced through its heart.

...

And that was the end of his recollection. The Drakos corpse in front of him began to dissolve into motes of light, and he noted that it must have been a first-generation Dungeon Monster. Basically, the ones who first originated from a Magical Dungeon.

Amazing...

He let out a sigh, before it turned into a hiss of pain. His left arm really felt like it was exposed to a red-hot metal for a few seconds, before being drawn away and quenched in frosted, icy air.

... It was specifically painful, like that. But thankfully, because it wasn’t exposed to lightning directly, his arm only looked like somebody had dipped it in boiling hot water. While it was terribly red, and was probably only a hot summer day away from being a second-degree burn, it didn’t have any terrible, tree-like branching patterns that it might have suffered if it was directly exposed to begin with.

That being said... He knew that he was in no state to continue hunting. He only carried his spear with his right arm, and he turned back towards the direction of the town.

While he could still fight if he needed to, he knew that it would be simply better to lay low and avoid any avoidable conflict with monsters.

So then, he started his trek back. He kept himself off the path, but still followed its direction.

He idly wondered what Clara would tell him once she saw the state of his coat, and the state of his left arm.

And he chuckled – before the action caused him to wince in pain. She would probably only use that to prove her point that leaving him alone to his own devices would get him killed at some point.

She wasn’t wrong, after all...

Thankfully, the path back was peaceful. When he crossed the wooden bridge above the pit of spears and corpses, he let out a sigh of relief.

...

The only things in his mind right now was wondering what Clara would say to him, and what he exactly he was supposed to do with Sistine.

Because really. What exactly was he supposed to do with that girl?

... If Tobias was more aware of his surroundings, he would have noticed that someone was following him.

And if his sense of hearing was any sharper, he would have heard one word that would put his entire being on guard.

Analysis.