Chapter 72: Signs of Life?

Gawain was roused from a hazy half-sleep by the commotion outside.

The pounding footsteps and shouting jolted him awake. Amid the chaos, he caught fragments of cries like “The stone sphere’s alive!” and heard several pairs of boots racing toward his tent. Already a light sleeper, Gawain snapped fully alert, grabbed some clothes to throw on, and called out, “What’s going on?!”

Sir Philip’s voice came from outside the tent. “My lord—there’s something wrong with that stone sphere you brought back!”

“Something wrong?” Gawain frowned. The usually sharp and capable young knight’s vague wording set off alarm bells. He quickly straightened his clothes, grabbed his ever-ready Pathfinder’s sword, and pulled back the tent flap.

It was still two hours before dawn; the sky showed no hint of light yet, but the camp was lit by burning braziers and torches, keeping the darkness at bay. As Gawain stepped out, he felt a shadow shift at his feet. Amber emerged from the darkness—still in her casual clothes, not yet changed into her usual leather armor. She was flustered, half-shouting, half-whining, “What’s going on? I was asleep! Wait—ah! I’m stuck! Help, help—”

Gawain broke out in a cold sweat as he grabbed her by the collar and yanked her out of the shadow. She was light as a cat. “You’re a shadow master, and you got stuck in your own shadow step?”

Amber flushed, embarrassed. “Well, I was half-asleep and rushed… What’s going on?”

“That stone sphere I brought back—it’s acting up,” Gawain said casually, motioning for Philip to lead the way. He and Amber followed behind the knights and soldiers. “Let’s go check it out.”

Amber yawned, clearly not thrilled. “Ugh, I just want to go back to sleep…”

Before she could finish, Gawain tucked her under his arm and hauled her along.

The isolated tent on the south side of the camp was surrounded by soldiers and militia, forming a perimeter about ten meters out. The torches blazed so brightly the area was almost like daylight. Nearby civilians had been woken by the noise but dared not venture out—most peered nervously from their tents, too afraid to get closer.

By the time Gawain arrived, Amber was struggling more vigorously, and Hetty was already on the scene. She was tracing magical runes in the air, setting up a weak protective barrier around the tent. When she saw Gawain, surprise flickered across her face. “Ancestor, what are you—”

Gawain set Amber down. “She’s more sensitive to things at night than we are, but she didn’t want to come.”

Amber protested, hopping on one foot. “Don’t bring me along! You almost choked me!”

No one paid her any mind.

“What’s the situation inside?” Gawain asked, eyeing the tent and the empty space between it and the perimeter, as if approaching the sphere was dangerous. “Any casualties?”

“No casualties, but two militia and one soldier are trapped inside,” Hetty said, her expression grim. “They’re… stuck. Pulled in.”

“Pulled in?” Gawain blinked. “Like a magnet pulling metal?”

“Sort of, but strange,” Hetty explained. “The night watch noticed their magical gear suddenly lost power. Then their weapons and armor were drawn toward the sphere—but not all metal was affected. It’s like the sphere chooses who to pull in. Some fully armored men walked right past without a thing happening. Because we don’t know what else it might do, I’ve forbidden anyone from getting close. Only that druid, Pittman, is inside checking on the trapped men.”

Selective attraction? Magic interference? This wasn’t just magnetism.

Gawain mulled it over, then handed his Pathfinder’s sword to Philip and patted Amber on the shoulder. “You and I will go in. Leave all your metal behind.”

“W-why do I have to go?” Amber’s face fell. “Shouldn’t a knight like you go first in a dangerous situation?”

“Exactly. I’ll go first, you follow,” Gawain nodded. “Unless you want to forfeit this month’s pay.”

Amber gritted her teeth, then with a resigned look, dropped her metal items on the ground—two small daggers, two amulets, a tiny pendant, and the pocket watch belonging to the old steward from Andrew, Viscount of Tansan Town…

Wait, she hadn’t returned that yet?!

Gawain’s eyes flicked to the watch, then fixed on Amber so intently she shivered. “Where’s your coin pouch?”

Amber gasped, clutching her waist. “No way!”

Gawain kept staring.

After a tense moment, Amber reluctantly pulled out her pouch, counted the coins over and over, then handed it to Philip. “I swear, I counted carefully! If even one coin’s missing when I get back—”

“I swear on my honor as a knight to protect anything entrusted to me!” Philip puffed up proudly, startling Amber. “Hey, no need to shout! There’s not much in there anyway…”

“Ancestor, I’ll go with you—” Hetty stepped forward, but Gawain stopped her with a look.

“You and Philip stay here. That sphere might affect magical flows. If you get too close, you won’t be able to help.”

Hetty nodded and bowed before stepping back. “Be careful.”

Gawain thought to himself: What a good, sensible granddaughter… Maybe I should ask her when she plans to get married?

Shaking off the silly thought, Gawain and a wary Amber approached the tent.

Using his danger sense, Gawain scanned inside and judged there was nothing immediately threatening. He carefully pulled back the tent flap.

In the center sat the large stone sphere—still looking like an ordinary, dull rock. But hilariously, three fully armed men were stuck to it.

A militia man, a militia captain, and a regular soldier.

He also spotted the little old man, Pittman, just as Hetty had said, tending to the trapped men. When Gawain entered, Pittman was crouched before the militia captain, speaking kindly: “…So, you’re clearly cursed with bad luck. Why not try our druidic luck-shifting ritual?”

“There’s no such thing as a luck-shifting ritual, druid. Stop trying to sell my men on nonsense,” Gawain strode in, eyes scanning the three soldiers. “Who got stuck first?”

The three men, already frustrated and tense, were near their breaking point with the druid’s sales pitch. Gawain’s sudden arrival eased the tension. No matter what, a legendary Pathfinder knight’s presence was a huge morale boost (though only Gawain knew how much of that legend was smoke and mirrors). The three exhaled as if saved.

The bearded militia captain tilted his head. “Sir, Lock was the first. I was standing nearby in armor but wasn’t pulled in. I got curious, and then I got pulled in too…”

The third soldier sighed. “Sir, I was pulled in while checking the situation.”

Gawain looked down at their armor. The sphere had pulled their metal gear tight, and a longsword was stuck atop the sphere. Oddly, a metal ring had fallen off one armor set onto the ground nearby—and it showed no sign of being attracted.

Gawain picked up the ring and rubbed it against the sphere. No magnetic pull at all.

At that moment, Pittman spoke up. “I checked earlier. This isn’t simple magnetism. Their armor seems ‘solidified,’ locked in place so they can’t move or remove it.”

So the druid’s sales pitch wasn’t all talk.

“Sounds like some kind of magical effect…” Gawain mused, then looked at Amber. “Try using your shadow powers to dispel it.”

Shadow exists alongside the real world but on a different plane, making it perfect for disrupting magic flows or even breaking dimensional seals. That’s why rogues specialize in dispelling magical traps and seals. Amber, as a shadow prodigy, was a master at this.

Bringing her was exactly for situations like this.

Amber stopped struggling and nodded seriously, summoning her innate power.

Her form blurred and became ethereal, caught between the real world and the shadow realm. Faint shadows stretched from her feet, merging with those around the sphere.

As Amber worked to unravel the effect, Gawain tried pushing the sphere—it didn’t budge.

“I thought this thing was supposed to be light…” he frowned. “Even with three men on it, I should be able to move it.”

“That’s another oddity,” Pittman said. “I heard when you brought it back, you could push it easily with one hand. Now… it’s at least as heavy as black iron ore of the same size. Maybe the earlier lightness was a magical effect, and this is its true weight.”

No sooner had Pittman finished than Amber suddenly “jumped” out of her shadow form and plopped onto the ground. “Oof—”

Gawain quickly helped her up. “What happened?”

Amber looked dazed. “I don’t know… There’s some weird energy field around the sphere. When I tried to extend my spirit into it, I got bounced back.”

“Wait!” Pittman suddenly shouted. “There was a life sign just now!”

(End of chapter)