Chapter 73: So Is This Just a Setup?

Druid Pittman’s sudden shout caught Gawain off guard. For a moment, he didn’t quite grasp what the other meant by “life signs”—until two seconds later, when it hit him: he was talking about that orb.

“When Amber was knocked back just now, there was a faint life signal inside the sphere,” Pittman repeated cautiously, edging closer to the orb. He pulled out a dry, crumpled leaf from his pocket, rubbing its stem as he continued, “But the life sign only lasted a moment before disappearing… I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

Amber rubbed her backside, staring at the stone sphere in disbelief. “What the hell… Is this thing actually alive?”

The three soldiers trapped inside the orb paled, their faces growing even more tense.

Gawain, however, was more skeptical of this druid’s questionable skills. “You’re not mixing things up, are you?”

Pittman shot him a sharp look. “Impossible! I’m a true druid, trained in the School of Nature Spirits. There’s no way I’d be wrong about something so basic!”

Gawain raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you from the Heart of the Woods school?”

Pittman blinked. “Did I say that last time?”

He then turned to Amber. “Amber, which school did you say I was from before?”

Gawain just stared.

“Anyway, my sensing can’t be wrong,” Pittman said, sensing the awkwardness in the air. Even his thick skin was wearing thin, so he awkwardly changed the subject. “No matter the druidic school, sensing life energy is fundamental. Without that, you can’t cast any druid spells… And look, here’s the proof.”

He held out the leaf he’d pulled from his pocket. Somehow, it had gone from dry and shriveled to lush and vibrant green, as if freshly plucked from a branch.

“Though it looks lifeless on the surface, there’s some form of life energy inside…” Pittman circled the stone orb, speaking with solemn professionalism. “It seems to be in a very deep slumber, or maybe it hasn’t fully formed yet?”

Amber blinked, her mind racing. Suddenly, she blurted out, “Wait, could this be an egg?!”

“An egg?” Gawain was taken aback. If the relic the old Gondor researchers had studied deep in the mountains was really an egg, that would be… interesting. But then he frowned. “What kind of creature lays an egg this big?”

He shivered, then added offhandedly, “Could it be a dragon egg?”

Amber and Pittman fell silent, both staring at the massive stone orb with a mix of horror and tension. Gawain rubbed his chin, caught in a strange mental tug-of-war. What was this, some ancient cliché? Getting a dragon egg after crossing into another world? That trope had been out of style for years before he even arrived. And yet here it was, dropping right on his head.

But then he thought further—so what if it was a dragon egg? Who knew how long it would take to hatch? According to dragon legends, they lived for tens of thousands of years. Hatching one might take centuries, maybe even a millennium. Picking up a dragon egg could mean a lifetime of waiting, or even generations. And when it finally hatched, the dragon parents might just swoop in and take their kid without so much as a thank you… Maybe that was just how dragons operated.

But if it really took a thousand years to hatch, and this egg came from a ruin a thousand years old, maybe it was almost ready?

Suddenly, memories of familiar storylines flooded Gawain’s mind, triggered by this all-too-familiar setup. He stood there, lost in thought, completely zoning out. Amber called his name several times with no response. Finally, the half-elf jumped up and headbutted him square in the chest.

“Wake up!!”

“Ugh—”

Gawain wasn’t wearing armor and nearly lost his breath. Once he recovered, he reached out to grab Amber’s ear. “What’s wrong with you, headbutting people like that?”

“Obviously! You made me leave all my metal gear outside before coming in. If I had a warhammer, do you think I’d need to use my head?” Amber dodged his hand nimbly and shot back, “Why were you spacing out just now?”

Gawain wanted to ask what she’d do with a warhammer, but he refocused on the orb. “I’m thinking… if this really is a dragon egg, how do I shut down this damn ‘energy field’?”

The three soldiers were still stuck, unable to move.

Pittman, half scholar and half cook, thief, appraiser, and fortune teller, stroked his chin and started rummaging through his patchy knowledge. “There’s a type of dragon called a ‘metal dragon’ or ‘earth dragon’ that can manipulate metal and influence mana flow. If we’re making connections, the chances of this being a dragon egg are pretty high.”

Gawain was surprised the old man actually had some useful info. “Oh? Do you know how to stop that power?”

“No idea,” Pittman shrugged, quickly adding before Gawain could get annoyed, “And even if I did, it wouldn’t help. I’m just a low-level druid. How could I possibly handle a dragon egg? Dragons are legendary creatures. Even as eggs, they have magic power equivalent to mid-level human spellcasters.”

Gawain gaped. What kind of ridiculous overpowered setup was this? Humans spent half their lives training, and here a fertilized egg was already stronger?

Amber suddenly looked at him. “Aren’t you a legendary hero? You slice through mages like cutting beans. Can’t you handle this?”

“Knights and mages have different skill sets,” Gawain frowned. He knew his “legendary” status was mostly hype. He’d been adapting to this body and learning its skills, but the long slumber had drained much of his power. Plus, the combat experience wasn’t his own, making it hard to integrate. In real battle, his strength would be even less. He might be the strongest in this territory, but beyond the newbie zone, he’d probably die halfway through.

Besides, this egg—if it really was one—wasn’t something a knight’s skills could handle.

Still, after thinking it over, Gawain decided to give it a try. “I’ll try first.”

Knight abilities weren’t as flashy or versatile as a mage’s. Most of Gawain’s remembered skills were for swinging swords, nothing like a mage’s multiple variations of a simple water spell. But maybe some basic powers could help here.

Since the egg showed life signs and interacted with mana, why not try communicating with it through magic?

In this world, where everything was powered by mana, all extraordinary professions understood basic mana use. Knights used mana too, just differently from mages.

At the most basic level—perception and guidance—the mana use of knights and mages wasn’t that different.

Gawain approached the stone orb and pressed his hand against its rough surface. The three soldiers trapped inside glanced nervously at him. They didn’t know what their lord planned or if their lives would be at risk. Though nobles controlled the fate of commoners in this era, moments like this still made them anxious.

Noticing their looks, Gawain smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

Ignoring their reactions, he focused on sensing the flow of mana.

A new kind of “vision” appeared in his mind.

It showed the distribution of mana in the surrounding area. Though not as clear as a mage’s meditative sight, it was enough to reveal mana currents. Inside the tent, a thin mist of mana hovered, with subtle flows within. Several “clusters” stood out: two stronger ones belonged to Amber and Pittman nearby, while three faint clusters grouped together—those were the trapped soldiers.

And the “dragon egg” stone orb?

It was a pitch-black void.

In this mana vision, the tent’s center looked like a chunk of space had been carved out, utterly black with no reflection or detail. Only two possibilities existed: either the orb was made of some mana-less substance that shouldn’t exist in this world, or it actively blocked all mana effects aimed at it.

The first was impossible—Hetty had once sensed mana from the orb, albeit a strange kind unlike any known form, but it was definitely there.

So the orb must be in some kind of “self-protection” mode.

Gawain guessed as he carefully guided his mind closer to the blackness.

Amber had already proven the strength of this “self-protection” by getting knocked back like a landmine when she touched it. Too strong a stimulus could bounce him away too, so he had to be extremely cautious.

After a very careful approach, he found he didn’t trigger the orb’s repulsion.

Not knowing if a “dragon egg” could communicate, Gawain tried to strengthen the idea of communication in his mind.

At first, nothing happened.

But after a few seconds, a faint buzzing echoed in his head—not a hallucination.

The orb was whispering to him.

Gawain’s spirit surged with excitement, nearly losing the fragile connection in his emotional turmoil. He quickly steadied himself and sent his first greeting: “Hello, I mean no harm. You can call me Gawain.”

The orb’s mental waves grew clearer, shifting from faint murmurs to a distinct voice with a metallic tone, impossible to tell male or female: “Is it safe outside now?”

Gawain suppressed his excitement, trying to convey sincerity. “It’s very safe here. You can relax.”

“Don’t believe me? Then go away.”

Gawain: “…”

(End of chapter)