Volume 5 Chapter 8 Crystal
Al glanced at Orson, who was sitting against the wall with his eyes closed. He wondered if Orson was playing one of his pranks. But if it wasn't Orson, where was the voice coming from? As he looked around, the voice came again.
'I'm the assistant of Tempest.'
"Tempest? Assistant?"
To Al, these were just strange words. He continued the conversation cautiously. It seemed like the voice was coming from the crystal that the corpse was holding. When he heard "Tempest," Al remembered the neighboring country, the Tempest Kingdom, but it turned out to be the name of the man in front of him, and the assistant referred to a crystal that acted like it had intelligence, helping him when he was alive.
'This is not just a crystal, and it doesn't only take this shape.'
Al tilted his head in confusion as he heard a whisper that only he could hear. The assistant explained that it was sending a message through the bones near his ear. Al thought it was strange since there are no bones in the ear. As he listened, more questions filled his mind.
"Anyway, let's get into the details later. What was that assistant doing here? Were you protecting the corpse?"
Al asked, feeling tired of the increasingly detailed explanations. From his tone, it didn't seem like he was angry, but he still didn't understand the situation well.
'I was indeed protecting the body. Normally, I should criticize actions that disrespect the dignity of the dead, but I felt respect from you. Besides, my own mana was almost gone, and I was in a situation where I couldn't even talk like this. Thanks to your assistant providing me with mana, I can speak like this.'
The crystal he wore as a pendant from his grandfather was actually something called an assistant. When Al asked why it didn't speak like him, he was told it was still in a state like a baby that knows nothing, so it couldn't even talk to humans yet.
"We just got mixed up here. Even if we try to go back, there are golems in the way blocking us. Can you please let us pass?"
Al hurriedly interrupted, worried that the conversation was going off track.
'All I want is to quietly spend time with Lord Tempest. I want this grave to remain a secret from others. If you can keep that secret, I will let you go for the sake of your assistant.'
I wondered how long this crystal, claiming to be an assistant, had been here. Al nodded.
'Your assistant is quickly learning from me and will soon be able to talk to you. It seems to have slowly grown by receiving your feelings. I understood well that you are not a bad person when 'she' shared mana with me. I envy you. I also had days spent with Lord Tempest like that.'
Al glanced at Orson. He was sleeping weakly. While he wanted to hear the story, he felt a stronger urge to escape quickly, lay him down in bed, and feed him something nutritious.
"I'm sorry, but I really want to get out of here fast. Can you send us to the village below with magic?"
In response to Al's request, the crystal immediately said it was impossible. It seemed that it only had some authority to manage this tomb and couldn't use magic. When Al asked if talking like this wasn't magic, the crystal explained that it was a bit different.
'There was supposed to be research to allow assistants to use magic, but I entered this tomb before that could happen. I don't know the results. On the contrary, why is your assistant so young? No, before that, it seems you don't even know much about the existence of assistants. Why is that?'
Al couldn't find an answer, even when he was asked. In middle school, he only learned about events from around 200 years ago, right before the Sylvester royal family was formed, which he belonged to. When he asked the crystal if it knew about the Sylvester Kingdom or the nearby Tempest Kingdom, it didn't know anything. The crystal's master, a man named Tempest, was a powerful magician but not a king or noble. It looked like there was a big difference in the history they both understood.
'Hmm, for now, I'll send a signal to your assistant so the golem guarding this tomb won't attack you. With that signal, you'll be safe. You should go back through the ceiling of the guardian's room. I'm also curious about the Tempest Kingdom, which shares a name with my master. If you learn anything, please tell me quietly. Can I trust you to do that?'
Al nodded and transformed the 'Carrier' spell into a chair for Orson to sit on. Since he looked like he was almost asleep, Al added a frame to keep him from falling off.
'That's quite a clever idea.'
said Crystal, the assistant of the magician from Tempest, honestly. Al smiled happily.
"Well then, I'll be going. Um, Tempest's assistant."
'Oh, I do have a name too. It's Malachi. See you.'
Al adjusted Crystal to hold the body again, put the lid back on the stone coffin, and stood up. The fact that he shared their name meant he felt a connection, right? He seemed to know a lot. Once Orson gets better, I'll come back secretly again, Al thought.
* * *
As Al climbed up the rope through the crack in the cave, a faint smell of something burnt, like meat, wafted through the cave. He peeked in quietly to see if anyone was there. There was no one in the cave, and it seemed the smell was coming from the gap in the crumbled stones he had entered through.
He had parted ways with Gabby just before noon, and it was still not quite evening yet. It was probably still too early for him to return. Or maybe he didn't follow Al's words to go home.
After carefully laying Orson on a relatively intact bed inside the cave, Al peeked outside through a gap in the crumbling stones. She could hear the clinking of metal and voices. It seemed there was a simple cooking area set up for people staying long outside the cave, and there were 2 young women nearby, judging by their voices.
"Thank you, Joanna. But I'm fine, I don't have an appetite. Can I just have some rice porridge?"
"Princess, I'm sorry. But you need to eat something..."
Al tilted her head. Princess? Which princess could that be? Or was it just a nickname? At least it was clear they didn't seem like bandits, which made Al feel relieved. Slowly, he slipped out from the gap and peeked around the rock to see the cooking area.
A woman in her early twenties stood nearby, wearing worn and damaged metal armor that looked like it came from a battlefield. Her brown hair was cut short and messy. Next to her was a younger girl, dressed in torn cloth that used to be a nice dress. Her dull golden hair was tied back neatly. On the cooking table, there was a lump of charcoal that was not successful in cooking anything.
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