A Small, Precious Friend 2

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A camel carrying Doyun trekked through the midst of a dense sandstorm sweeping across the desert.

Donning a cloak hood, he was deep in contemplation, motionless.

Merely gripping the camel’s reins, he swayed back and forth with each plodding step.

Ahead of the Fiend exploration, Doyun had embarked on a short journey to collect his thoughts.

In his previous life, whenever his mind grew turbulent, he would visit his hideaway – the alchemy workshop.

Now, on the eve of a major undertaking, he wished to sort out his thoughts while reuniting with the one he had neglected during this time.

His destination lay not far, in the heart of the desert – originally a forest, rendered barren by war.

‘Water may be scarce.’

Doyun examined the camel, concerned.

The sandstorm raged fiercer than expected, fatiguing the camel. It seemed he lacked sufficient water for the beast.

‘Perhaps I’ll have to walk back…’

As he reconsidered, shadows appeared in the distance.

Their desert garb, light armaments, and menacing aura – unmistakably a bandit troupe.

Approaching Doyun, they blocked his path, sneering.

“Dismount.”

The apparent leader spoke.

Having experienced such situations innumerable times, Doyun did not make the naive mistake of offering transit fees or the like.

Without witnesses, just a lone traveler – what were transit fees? If killed, everything would belong to the slayers.

“And strip.”

However, it seemed they sought minor amusement first.

A bandit riding beside the leader snickered lecherously at Doyun’s stylish appearance, licking his lips.

Silently, Doyun eyed their waists. A considerable number of water skins dangled there.

Moreover, none knew the local terrain better than bandits.

“What’s taking so long? Hurry up…”

Schick-

Thud.

The head of the bandit who had told Doyun to strip rolled off beside the leader.

Thump.

The headless body fell from the camel. Yet the camel remained unperturbed.

Such was the natural, clean manner of death.

The bandit troupe froze, sweat chilling their hearts in the scorching sandstorm.

There had been no attack. No, it was unseen.

The only movement they witnessed was Doyun sheathing his sword and gripping the camel’s reins.

“…”

“Any water?”

“……Yes.”

The bandits hurriedly retrieved their water skins.

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Guided by the bandit troupe, Doyun soon reached his destination.

As recompense for their guidance, he swiftly slit their throats and tossed them aside without allowing them to suffer – it was clear they would have stolen his camel and fled while he was inside the workshop.

Gugugugung…

Doyun entered the dark workshop, the door closing behind him.

The scent of decaying paper and herbs greeted him.

With each plodding step, fine dust billowed – accumulated over 100 years.

Aside from severe dilapidation, it was the quintessential beginner alchemist’s workshop. And it had indeed been just that.

Except for mana control, Enoch’s talents across all fields had been abysmal. Alchemy was no exception.

None would have imagined the great Hero Enoch Ruozvolnick using such a pitiful workshop, recuperating here alone without showing his struggles to anyone.

“…”

Fortunately… it seemed undisturbed during this time.

If violated, even Doyun might have grieved. In a sense, this place was more precious than his inheritance of mountain-like treasures and fortunes, each worth an entire city.

Doyun approached a small bookshelf, the aged tomes nearly disintegrating, on the verge of tearing apart.

‘Beginner’s Alchemy Guide. Fundamentals of Thaumaturgy 2. A Study on Independent Magitek Complexes…’

…

…His heart swelled with emotion.

As Doyun surveyed the workshop, his steps halted abruptly.

His gaze lingered on a dust-covered corner.

There sat a small golem child, seeming to have ceased functioning long ago.

“…”

He examined the surroundings once more.

The floor dust was not entirely even. In patches, the dust was noticeably shallower.

They resembled the small, unsteady footsteps of a toddling infant – those of this tiny golem.

Starting from the oldest prints, Doyun traced in chronological order all the footsteps scattered throughout the room. As the dust grew shallower, the timeframe encompassed by the footsteps progressed.

Eventually, his gaze followed the final steps back to the familiar corner.

’20 years…’

Judging by the dust depth, it seemed to have operated alone for 20 years after he had departed before ceasing function.

After observing it for a while, Doyun approached and lifted the small frame, shedding 80 years’ worth of caked dust.

With delicate, cherished movements, he brushed away the remaining dust, revealing the tiny rusted iron golem child – unchanged from 100 years prior despite its severe deterioration.

“…”

For 200 years, Enoch had endlessly fought and suffered.

What had sustained his sanity was none other than alchemy.

Despite lacking talent, despite its lack of practical combat applications,

From the 6th to the 18th cycle where he first dabbled in alchemy, Enoch had never abandoned it in a single iteration.

A pitiful tiny thaumaturgy creation, an experimental failure born of his meager skills.

Yet with each cycle, as Enoch’s thaumaturgy prowess improved, so too did this creation’s completion level rise, its form evolving across iterations.

In other words, amidst the timelines where everything was reset, this tiny golem was the sole existence to accompany Enoch through the regressions.

Although metaphorical, to Enoch, even this small doll had been an immense consolation.

The resetting of connections due to regression. People unable to recognize him. The repeated deaths of comrades amidst war.

Along that lonely, thorny path of the cursed, repeating regressions and deaths with none to console him,

This tiny thaumaturgy golem alone had been Enoch’s sole, non-regressing friend.

Unable to speak or think, devoid of a soul – a mere composite of iron gears and mana circuits.

Yet this tiny golem had been the pillar preventing Enoch from descending into madness over those 200 years.

“…”

Enoch gazed at his small, precious friend – the motionless tiny golem.

‘It’s not moving…’

Of course not. A crude golem powered by an intermediate mana crystal could hardly function after 100 years.

“…Thank you.”

Like me, you too suffered through the regressions before finally finding peace.

“Truly… thank you.”

Doyun murmured wistfully, cradling it for a long while.

But then,

“…!”

Doyun flinched.

‘Mana…!’

A faint golden glow emanated from the golem’s twin glass eyes – Doyun’s mana color.

Even after 100 years, mana still flowed within the golem.

‘How…?’

The intermediate mana crystal embedded in its core should have long expired. It was impossible.

As he examined the golem closely, [The Seventh Sense] automatically activated, displaying an item description.

[Your Precious Little Friend]

(This tiny golem was the great Hero Enoch Ruozvolnick’s most cherished friend. The little golem was the greatest pillar enabling him to persevere through adversity and hardship.

Enoch had countless comrades, but as one who shared his regressions, this golem was uniquely singular. More than anyone, it was the existence most befitting the title of the great Hero’s partner.

Enoch Ruozvolnick accomplished the greatest feat since the dawn of souls, attaining a spiritual standing second only to deities. Recognized for its bond with such an Enoch, this golem was deified by the World Will into a Spirit Beast.

Becoming a Spirit Beast, the tiny golem awaited the return of its lost master, finally having its wish granted. It ardently yearns to accompany its master once more.

The tiny golem, partner of the Regressing Hero, gained the power of regression upon deification.

When crisis befalls its master, it can initiate a minor world regression, however faint.)

“…!”

Having read the description, Doyun’s hands trembled violently.

“You…!”

Sensing its master’s return and recognition, the golem’s eyes glimmered faintly.

The same golden hue as Doyun’s.

Although immobile, Doyun could feel it making eye contact with him.

Within those golden artificial irises, he sensed resplendent elation.

Doyun exhaled shakily, rereading a portion of the description.

[It ardently yearns to accompany its master once more.]

“…”

After a long while,

“Very well…”

Having finally composed himself, Doyun caressed the rusted golem.

“Let’s go together.”

He sensed the faint mana flow within the golem suddenly surge with vigor.

It too was overjoyed.

“Once more… help me save the world.”

The great Hero Enoch Ruozvolnick, returning after 100 years to save the world again.

And the reunion with his small, precious partner who had awaited him alone for 100 years.