Chapter 727: Episode 727

’TICK. TICK. TICK.’

The Room of Winding Time. That was what the woman’s teacher called this place. The entire chamber was filled with clocks of every kind. Grandfather clocks, table clocks, hourglasses—their types, specifications, and sizes varied wildly.

In truth, every single one of them was a priceless artifact. And exclusively time-related artifacts at that. A woman stepped into the room.

’CLICK. CLACK.’

Kizen’s Vice President, Jane. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor as she surveyed the area, eventually stopping before a specific section. Her long eyelashes lowered.

One clock had stopped working, its glass face cracked. Radiating outward from that broken timepiece, the surrounding clocks were visibly distorted or shattered. She lightly opened her palm. Butterflies materialized in the air, swarming together to form the shape of a scythe.

Gripping the weapon, she resumed her steps.

’TICK. TICK. TICK. TICK.’

The clocks ticked in discordant rhythms, their hands pointing to entirely different time zones. Whether from the dizzying cacophony or the dense mana radiating from the artifacts, a dull headache washed over her. Just as she turned the corner, a sudden movement caught her eye. She swung her scythe on pure reflex.

A moment later, she felt something soft wrap around her leg.

"Jane!" a familiar, whining voice wailed.

Jane sighed and relaxed her grip. The scythe dissolved into a flurry of butterflies that scattered into the air.

"I came because the security alarm went off," Jane said. "How many times have I told you to sign the entry log before coming in, Nephthys?"

"But it was urgent! I couldn’t help it!" Nephthys whined.

It seemed Jane’s headache wasn’t from the ticking clocks after all, but a reflexive physical rejection of her superior entering within a three-hundred-foot radius. Jane reached down, grabbed the tiny woman by the scruff of the neck, and hoisted her up like a clinging cicada. Looking closer, Jane noticed black blood trickling down Nephthys’s forehead. She furrowed her brow.

"Is it because of that matter?"

"Yeah."

"It seems you’ve caused a proper disaster this time."

Nephthys hopped down to the floor. Jane knelt, pulled a handkerchief from her coat, and gently wiped her superior’s forehead.

"Someone’s life was on the line! I couldn’t just do nothing!"

"I know. I’m not blaming you."

Jane finished wiping away the blood, folded the handkerchief over, and wiped Nephthys’s mouth for good measure. Nephthys mumbled and squirmed in protest, but Jane’s grip was firm and thorough.

"May I ask you one thing?" Jane asked.

"No!"

"Who went to the past?"

Nephthys giggled.

"I don’t know either!"

Jane’s hand clamped down harder over Nephthys’s mouth.

"Mmph-mph!’ I really don’t know!"

Only then did Jane release her, tucking the soiled handkerchief away before standing up.

"This is an issue I hardly dare advise you on, but I do not believe playing with the artifacts here will resolve the situation."

"Yeah. I think so too."

Toddling forward, Nephthys closed her eyes, lost in thought.

"We’ll need to send someone as well."

---

Outside, torrential rain continued to batter Leshill. Simon and Anna sat by the fireplace, waiting for Richard to return. Anna had been knitting the entire time, occasionally glancing out the window with a worried expression before bustling into the kitchen to fetch her son another snack, only to return to her knitting and repeat the cycle. ’I’m so full.’

Thanks to her fretting, Simon was currently eating his ninth meal since arriving home. When she glanced out the window again and started toward the kitchen, Simon jumped up in alarm.

"Mom! I’m full! I’m fine now—!"

The door rattled open. The muffled patter of rain instantly amplified into a fierce, roaring downpour. A man stepped inside, his heavy boots squelching on the floorboards. His robe dripped with rainwater.

"Father!"

"Honey!"

It was Richard.

Simon quickly supported his father and guided him to a chair by the fireplace, while Anna peeled off his soaked robe. Richard was drenched to the bone and looked like a mess. Rainwater streamed from his hair, which was plastered to his forehead.

"You’re back, Simon," Richard said, his voice hoarse.

Simon quickly sat opposite him.

"Are you okay? What’s going on all of a sudden?"

"I don’t know."

Richard brushed back his wet bangs, revealing the distinguished lines of his face.

"Nothing like this has happened since I moved to Leshill. It’s an unprecedented downpour. The valleys are flooding, and the mountains are collapsing."

Without a word, Anna placed a bowl of piping hot tomato soup in Richard’s hands. He flinched at the heat, but she playfully told him not to be a baby and spoon-fed him a mouthful.

"Ah’, getting something hot in my system makes me feel alive again," Richard sighed, looking up at his wife with deep, affectionate eyes.

Anna leaned in to kiss his cheek, and Richard returned the gesture. The affectionate displays of the happily married couple were starting up again. Even with their son sitting right there, there was no stopping them. Simon let out an awkward laugh and politely averted his gaze.

"Do you have to go back out tomorrow, honey?" Anna asked worriedly once they finally parted.

"I think I have to. The damage to the territory is snowballing," Richard replied, his voice heavy with fatigue. "With the mountains collapsing, the monsters living there are crossing over into human territory. Some of the residents have already been attacked."

"The lower village is completely flooded, so we evacuated everyone to shelters on higher ground, but there’s nowhere near enough food. The roads are washed out, so merchant guilds won’t be able to bring in supplies anytime soon."

Anna planted her hands on her hips.

"We still have food in the pantry. I’ll take it to the shelter and cook for the residents!"

"Having the Lady of the territory do that would be a great comfort to them."

As the two began staring into each other’s eyes again, Simon quickly interjected.

"I’ll help too, Father! If monsters are crossing over, there might be casualties. We need to take care of them quickly."

Richard looked at his son.

"Alright. I’m sorry, though. I know a Kizen student doesn’t exactly get free time just because it’s vacation."

"Consider this part of my training!" Simon said brightly.

Richard nodded.

"We’ll split up and move out at first light. Your body temperature will drop quickly in this rain, so prepare thoroughly and avoid prolonged fights."

"Yes, sir!"

The Polentia family placed their hands together, cementing their resolve.

---

Early the next dawn, the operation began. The rain was still pouring in heavy sheets. Anna headed for the food pantry, while Simon and Richard threw on their robes and dashed outside.

"Mountain Orcs displaced from the southeastern mountain range are approaching the shelter," Richard said, glancing at Simon. "They’re exhausted and starving. If they enter the territory like this, they’ll start eating people. You take the south, and I’ll take the north."

"Yes, Father!"

Richard bounded up the mountain, piercing through the sheets of rain, while Simon sprinted straight along the flooded valley. It didn’t take long for him to spot a group of monsters wading through the water. Simon leaped into the air, stepping on a burst of jet-black aura, and landed squarely in their path. The orcs bared their teeth the moment they saw him.

Drool spilling from their maws, they raised their heavy axes. Simon pushed back his wet bangs and quietly stared them down.

"I’m sorry it has to be this way, but I have a duty to protect my people."

With a guttural roar, the vanguard of orcs charged. Simon glanced further up the valley, spotting several more groups descending. ’I’ll finish this quickly.’ Skeletons sprang from his subspace.

A cyan flash erupted from a magic circle, washing over their bony frames. Their swords glowed with an emerald hue, and their capes snapped in the wind.

’Simon Original — Royal Guards’

"Strike."

The twenty-three skeletons scattered, leaving brilliant trails of emerald light in their wake.

---

The battle dragged on longer than expected. It wasn’t that the individual Mountain Orcs were particularly strong, but covering an entire mountain alone in a torrential downpour was thoroughly exhausting. After clearing out the last of the orcs, Simon moved to his next location, following the instructions Richard had relayed through a summon. Upon arriving, he found a pack of Kobolds attacking a small village.

They were firing rusted crossbows. As bolts thudded into the wooden walls, terrified residents could be seen dropping to the floor inside their homes. ’I’m going straight in.’ Since the duration of his Royal Guards had expired, he cast a different dark magic.

’Simon Original — Dragonian’

It was his first time using the Dragonian suit since the battle with Balak. However, since this was a defensive battle that didn’t require overwhelming swordsmanship, he constructed the armor without ’Manus’—the violent ego that tried to slash everything in sight.

"Here I go!"

The Kobolds loosed a volley of bolts just as the Dragonian suit activated. A hum resonated through the air as purple scales manifested, deflecting the projectiles and allowing Simon to dash forward unharmed. True to a suit forged from chaos, its power was devastating. With every strike, skulls caved in.

The Kobolds collapsed helplessly under Simon’s relentless offensive as he tore through their ranks like lightning, leaving streaks of purple light in his wake.

"Now! Get out of here!" Simon shouted to the villagers.

The residents trapped in the buildings scrambled out, fleeing toward safety. Spotting them, a few Kobolds pivoted, aiming their crossbows at the fleeing civilians and firing. Suddenly, scales materialized in the air, locking together to form a honeycomb-shaped barrier that effortlessly repelled the bolts. ’Even if it’s technically a summon’s ability, to think the day would come when I’d use Fulgor.’

Simon smirked, closing the distance and subduing the remaining Kobolds. But his relief was short-lived; another massive pack was swarming in from behind. ’Damn it, there’s no end to—!’

[Good work, Simon.]

At the sudden telepathic voice, Simon snapped his head up. Something deep blue was plummeting from the sky.

It crashed into the earth with a deafening ’boom’. Rather than an undead, it looked like an armored giant clad in blue metal. With a single gesture from the giant, a barrage of blue flashes rained down, instantly obliterating the approaching Kobolds.

"Simon."

The giant’s ribcage parted down the middle, and Richard stepped out, dropping lightly to the ground.

"That’s a splendid Bone Armor," Richard noted. "Did you craft it from a Drake?"

"Ah’, yes! It’s an ancient species."

Simon retracted his Drake helmet, revealing his face. Richard laughed heartily.

"To think you’ve already dabbled in dragon magic. You’re greedy, just like me. Hahaha!"

"Father, this is no time for that! Over there!"

A flanking group of Kobolds had circled around and were about to pounce on the fleeing villagers.

"Leave them."

Richard didn’t move a muscle, but his empty Bone Armor suddenly dashed forward on its own. It swung its massive arms, cleaving through the Kobolds, and even delivered devastating kicks. It was flawlessly executing Jet-Black Arts. Richard simply stood there while the hollow armor fought autonomously.

This was entirely different from a standard summon’s combat mechanics. It was actively using human martial arts. Simon’s eyes sparkled as he watched the display.

"That technique...!"

"Once you can handle Bone Armor as an extension of your own body, things like this become possible with a little help from dark magic," Richard explained.

The Bone Armor was drawing upon the caster’s necromantic experience, Jet-Black Arts, and even Richard’s personal dark magic. It was essentially like splitting oneself in two. Simon’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

"I want to learn that too!"

"Hahaha! It’s not difficult. I’ll teach you step by step once this mess is over."

Richard turned his full attention back to his son.

"That’s enough fighting for you. I’ll clean up the rest."

"I can still fight!"

"You have something else to do. I received a message from Anna."

Richard rubbed his tired eyes.

"It seems Lethe has arrived at a nearby city. She’ll likely take a carriage straight into Leshill, but with the territory in this state, I’m worried. Go out and meet her."

"Ah’."

The weather in the neighboring territories was completely normal. This torrential storm was isolated solely to Leshill, meaning it was highly likely Lethe was completely unaware of the danger.

"Understood. I’ll go right away!"

---

The rain showed no signs of stopping. Simon crouched on a thick tree branch overlooking the main crossroads leading into Leshill, waiting for Lethe. ’Come to think of it, this is exactly where I first met her.’ Efnel was on vacation too, but he had assumed she would be too busy with her duties as a Saintess to visit.

He certainly hadn’t expected to see her the moment the term ended. Simon waited quietly in the canopy. How long had he been waiting? Eventually, the rhythmic clopping of horse hooves and the crunch of wooden wheels rolling over the muddy road reached his ears.

Simon stood up. ’She definitely said she was coming by carriage.’ Fortunately, the approaching vehicle seemed to be in relatively good condition despite the weather. Simon dropped lightly from the tree, landing in the middle of the road.

Startled, the driver yanked on the reins, bringing the carriage to an abrupt halt.

"Ah’, I apologize for startling you. I am Simon Polentia, the son of the Lord of Leshill."

After stating his identity, Simon walked toward the back of the carriage. Now, he just had to pull back the canvas flap, and he would see Lethe. Yet, a strange sense of nervousness suddenly bubbled up in his chest. ’Why am I getting so nervous over this?’

Simon cleared his throat, straightened his damp clothes, and bounced lightly on his toes to shake off the tension. Giving a firm nod to steel his resolve, he reached for the cover.

"Lethe, it’s me, Simon. Excuse me..."

He pulled back the flap, and his eyes widened. Lethe wasn’t there. Inside sat an elderly couple. Clutching each other’s hands, they stared out at Simon in utter bewilderment.

"Is something the matter, young man?" the old man asked.

"It’s nothing! Excuse me!"

Startled, Simon quickly dropped the flap. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding chest. ’She must be coming in a different carriage.’

"Hey there, friend. Come over here," the driver called out, beckoning from the front seat.

Simon walked over to the front of the carriage.

"I am extremely busy, so why are you holding us up? Are you boarding or not, sir?"

"Excuse me? ’Ah’. I wasn’t trying to get on..."

Simon froze, his eyes widening. ’Wait. That voice?’

"Good grief."

The driver raised an index finger and pushed up the brim of their straw hat. Several strands of snow-white hair spilled out, framing fine, familiar features. Sparkling golden eyes. A playful smile.

"If you intend to ride, sir, please pay the fare."

Simon’s pupils shook in disbelief.

"...Lethe!"