Chapter 24 : A Title For Calling Something (Part-1)

The suspicion of the skull was very reasonable.

[Could it be that you’re of giant blood?]

“No.”

[Then, perhaps you’re a descendant of demons…?]

Eden furrowed his brow, deepening the lines on his forehead in a clear indication of his confusion and concern.

What is it saying?

The skull, an inanimate object that typically would not exhibit any form of emotion, did not attempt to conceal its expression of surprise, showcasing an unexpected reaction that seemed almost anthropomorphic in nature.

[So, you’re really just of ordinary human blood? Or did something special happen to humanity while I was asleep?]

But the rest of the party appeared to be completely normal in all respects, exhibiting no unusual traits or behaviors that would set them apart from an average group of adventurers.

The only truly remarkable individual among them was the barbarian.

[…Well, that’s fine.]

The skull attempted to uphold a facade of indifference as it proceeded forward, unfazed by the surroundings and the events unfolding around it.

[The examination or assessment has been successfully completed. Congratulations are in order. This outcome signifies that you have rightfully acquired the entitlement to receive a reward for your efforts.]

The individual who displayed an expression of astonishment upon hearing those statements was Cotton, who was discreetly positioned behind the paladin, seeking shelter and security.

“Reward…?”

[Yes, a reward.]

The skull’s empty gaze turned to Cotton, its hollow eye sockets devoid of any emotion or life, yet somehow drawing attention with an eerie presence.

[I’ve assessed myself quite objectively. A moderately talented mage. Of course, nothing noteworthy to be remembered in history, fading into the background like a whisper carried away by the wind.]

That evaluation was, in fact, a bit harsh, reflecting a self-critique that seemed overly critical when weighed against the complexities of the magical world.

Eden glanced down at the steel golem he had just defeated, the lifeless metallic figure now crumpled and still, evidence of a hard-fought battle that had taken place moments before.

It was a formidable entity, an extraordinary being endowed with the remarkable ability to endure and withstand the relentless onslaught of even the most determined and skilled ordinary warriors, emerging from such encounters completely unharmed and not bearing a single mark or scratch upon its formidable exterior.

Furthermore, this being possessed an astonishing level of endurance, allowing it to persevere and endure through the passage of many long years without faltering or showing any signs of wear or deterioration.

To Eden, the skull that lay before them appeared to be imbued with the characteristics of a highly skilled and powerful mage, exuding an aura of ancient knowledge and mastery over arcane arts.

[So, I thought.]

The skull’s hollow and vacant eye sockets meticulously scanned the gathering of the party, its sightless gaze seemingly assessing each individual present.

[If I’m not destined to achieve the kind of heroism that etches one’s name into the annals of history, then I might as well align myself with a hero who is fated to leave a lasting legacy.]

With deliberate and eerie grace, the skull lifted its skeletal arm, an action that appeared almost deliberate in its intent.

As it moved, fine particles of dust cascaded from its bony frame, drifting through the air like forgotten memories being released from the clutches of time.

[Congratulations, hero! From what I can see, you have the ability to be remembered in history! What do you want? Gold coins? Gems? Or perhaps an enchanted weapon?]

At those words, Cotton’s eyes lit up.

“Gold coins and gems?”

[Yes, or perhaps all of that.]

“Wow, you really are a great mage, huh. Your ambition is huge! This is totally amazing!”

Cotton’s mind wandered to a grand and opulent mansion, with soaring ceilings and intricate architectural details, sprawling gardens, and luxurious furnishings that spoke of wealth and refinement.

He imagined the countless servants clad in crisp uniforms, bustling about to cater to every whim and need, ensuring that the mansion was always in pristine condition and that the residents enjoyed every comfort.

However, despite the vividness of his daydream and the allure of such a lavish existence, Cotton’s dream remained unfulfilled and existed only in the confines of his imagination, never to be brought to life in reality.

[Gold coins, gems, treasures! Or perhaps…]

Swoosh!

The skull’s head split open mid-sentence, creating a startling and gruesome scene that cut through the air with a visceral impact.

It was because of the axe that Eden had thrown with great force and precision, demonstrating remarkable strength and skill.

It was an axe so large and formidable that an ordinary person, lacking extraordinary physical capabilities, could only wield it effectively with both hands, requiring significant effort and coordination.

The blade was huge, gleaming menacingly and reflecting light with a sharpness that seemed to emphasize its deadly purpose.

Thanks to that decisive moment, the axe cleaved not only through the hardened exterior of the skull, but also brutally shattered the chair upon which it had been resting.

Cotton’s jaw fell open in shock as he beheld the gruesome scene unfold before him.

A slow, incredulous breath slipped through the spaces between his decayed teeth, escaping into the air as disbelief washed over him.

With a movement that seemed almost automatic, Cotton turned his head to observe his surroundings.

He caught sight of Eden, standing with the remnants of the axe casually slung over his shoulder, a stark contrast to the chaos that had just transpired.

Overcoming the shock and fear that surged through his mind like a tidal wave, Cotton managed to gather his thoughts enough to pose a question, despite the overwhelming sense of disbelief that enveloped him.

He was utterly dumbfounded, struggling to process the bewildering situation that unfolded before him.

“…What are you doing?”

The kindly and well-meaning skull had just offered an assortment of dazzling treasures, glimmering and showcasing their beauty in the light, leaving one to wonder at the generosity displayed. Yet, amidst this display of benevolence, a perplexing action took place: why did he choose to split its head open, revealing what lay inside?

Eden casually responded.

“I don’t negotiate with mages.”

Then, upon hearing the answer, which was delivered with an unexpected fervor and a hint of irrationality, Cotton thought to himself, reflecting deeply on the implications of what he had just heard.

This guy is completely insane, exhibiting behavior and ideas that defy logic and reason in such a way that it leaves Cotton questioning the very nature of reality and sanity itself.

024. A Title for Calling Someone

“No, but that person said they would give us treasures!”

“Calm down.”

“How can I calm down in this situation?!”

“Unless you want to be hit.”

Cotton immediately closed his mouth, realizing that further words would only complicate the situation he found himself in.

Observing the tightness in Eden’s muscles and the way his entire body seemed to be coiled with tension, Cotton felt his previously scattered thoughts finally begin to align and return to focus.

In any case, regardless of the circumstances surrounding them,

Eden’s decision to throw the axe had not stemmed purely from a simple dislike for mages, a sentiment that was present but did not capture the depth of his motives.

Certainly, that particular feeling was not entirely unfounded or baseless, but it also represented only a portion of the larger picture that motivated his actions.

Eden took a moment to gather his thoughts and, with a determined demeanor, opted to kindly clarify the situation as he understood it, aiming to shed light on the motivations behind his earlier actions.

However, it was certainly not an easy task to overlook the presence of the middle-aged man, who was balding and appeared visibly affected by the emotional weight of the moment, with tears welling in his eyes and gathering in droplets that threatened to spill over.

“To say they’re offering treasures just because they want to be remembered in history. What kind of sense does that make?”

Had Eden been an ordinary player participating in a game, he would have undoubtedly left a detailed review expressing his frustration, urging the scenario writer to cease their nonsensical storytelling and focus on crafting more coherent narratives.

If, as Cotton had initially suspected and theorized, it had indeed been an attempt to steal their living bodies, that motive would have been at least somewhat understandable, providing some rationale behind the bizarre events they were experiencing.

Despite these considerations, Cotton continued to grumble and voice his dissatisfaction regarding Eden’s opinion, unable to shake off his disapproval of the way Eden perceived the situation.

“…But still, you never know.”

“I was planning to split it from the beginning.”

“Y-You meant the skull’s head?”

Eden nodded, and Cotton, with a dumbfounded look, asked again.

“No, but if that’s the case, why did you even listen to that skull’s story in the first place? You should have just split its head open as soon as you saw it.”

That was most likely due to an ingrained habit developed from playing a particular game, where it became second nature for one to attentively listen to the dialogue provided by quests.

However, Eden chose not to elaborate on that aspect any further.

Eden surveyed his surroundings with a keen eye.

Following the act of shattering the skull of the hostile entity, he had pondered the likelihood that the steel golems might once again enter a state of chaos and violence, but thankfully, there were no signs of any movement or aggression.

Cotton, sighing, said,

“…Ugh. Anyway, I don’t have much to say since I was just watching.”

Cotton’s dream of striking it rich was now shattered.

The hope that had once burned brightly within him, illuminating his aspirations of wealth and success, had been extinguished in a moment of unforeseen tragedy.

Meanwhile, Fran, who had been observing the whole situation unfold with keen interest, focused on something else entirely, redirecting her attention away from the chaos surrounding her.

She admired the axe that had precisely struck the skull’s head, noting its sharp gleam and the craftsmanship that had gone into creating such a formidable tool.

The weapon, now stained with remnants of what had just transpired, caught the light in a way that highlighted its deadly functionality.

“It’s the size of a proper two-handed axe. To throw it and hit like that… The handle’s long, so it must have been hard to aim.”

Then, she turned to Eden with a question.