1

Still soaked through, I move toward that giant, drawn in like a stone to a magnet.

About four meters, I’d guess, stretched out like that. Stand up, and she’s eight—roughly the height of a three-story building.

The limb armor was shaped from sheet metal, curved into smooth, flowing lines. The torso wore armor like a knight’s, and the face—close to human, with two eyes.

It’d been years since it stopped moving—rust bloomed all over, and in places, ivy had tangled itself tight, like it’d given up trying to escape.

At first glance, it doesn’t look so bad— but look closer, and you see the left arm’s completely detached at the shoulder, hanging only by the edge of the cliff.

"Whoa."

Never thought I’d see a sci-fi story in a fantasy world. Not that it couldn’t be some kind of fantasy trickery—maybe it’s all magic under the hood—but from the looks of it, it’s built on proper principles.

The tubes peeking through the gaps in the armor, the hydraulic pumps—so damn mechanical, they lit up old memories and my mind all at once.

How long had I been staring, I wonder. I snapped back to myself and checked the inside of the game bag.

What ever happened to that darn hummingbird that sent me tumbling off the cliff?

The hummingbird I pulled out——was dead.

"Can't leave it like this. Gotta drain the blood quick."

No room for sentimentality. Sure, it stings a bit that I couldn’t do it myself—but look at the damn robot right in front of me, burning up with longing. Whatever. Doesn’t matter now.

Draw the cleaver from my waist and slice clean through the hummingbird’s neck.

No blood, and the meat spoils quick—plus, the stink seeps in. Can’t have a freshly caught hummingbird turned down because it stinks. That’d be a waste.

Dig a small hole in the ground with the cleaver, then squeeze the blood out from the severed head into the hole.

Once most of it’s drained, I toss the bird back into the game bag.

“Now then.”

I look up at the robot again, right in front of me.

Even if it’s broken, I’m not passing up a chance to ride it. A robot lover, after all.

Shed the sticky jacket, leap with the aeroslaster, and land on the robot’s foot—then climb up its body.

Size-wise, the cockpit’s gotta be in the body. I poke around the armored torso—this thing’s like a suit of mail—but there’s no hatch or entry point anywhere. Just one solid iron plate.

Up I went, then, higher still—wrapping around the back of my neck.

Wherever you’re going in, it’s always the belly or the neck—no getting around that.

And my guess was right.

"Is this it?"

There’s a slit on the back of the neck, about the size of a palm, and inside it’s a lever. Probably for opening the cockpit from the outside.

I didn’t hesitate—I just pulled it.

A hiss—something snapping open—and the center of my neck splits in two. The cockpit door swings wide.

Ugh...

For a moment, the stench of rot seeped out from within.

I grimaced without thinking, leaning back as if pushed.

Makes sense, really. Wouldn’t make sense to have a robot sitting here all alone. The pilot should’ve been in the cockpit—so if the seat’s open, the pilot’s still inside, wouldn’t you think?

From the look of the thing, maybe the crash knocked the pilot dead when it tumbled off the cliff.

Inside the cockpit, a skeleton—long trapped, rotted through, picked clean by time—was slumped in the seat. Bones cracked, crumbling, falling in chunks onto the floor.

“Guess we’re not riding this today.”

If we’re gonna climb in, gotta clean the damn thing first.

Left the cockpit door wide open for air, I stepped down from the machine and glanced around.

Sky still blue. Sun’s not visible, but not slanting much either. Means we haven’t been floating downriver long.

If I hustle back now, I might just make it to grab cleaning gear and come back here.

I use the aeroslaster to climb the cliff, bit by bit.

Must’ve drifted a little—this part’s smaller than where I fell, and I’m up without much trouble.

Then I climb higher into a tree and scan the horizon.

Sun’s still high—probably past three, give or take. Spring’s early, so sunset’s around half past five. Just barely.

I check the mountain’s position, guess my village’s location from the river’s flow.

“Think it’s somewhere around there.”

Hard to tell with the naked eye, but I swear I see a faint, wisp-like haze rising.

“Guess I’ll have to go check.”

I fire up the active wing and aeroslaster both, full speed back toward the village.

Break through the trees—there it is. Exactly as I expected. My birthplace.

Should’ve come in through the back of the village, but some river current must’ve swept me around—here I am, back at the front, right where the women were working the fields.

That’s when I get stopped in my tracks.

“Wait—Eld?!”

I’m walking down the path toward the village when a sudden shout calls my name, and all the women tending the fields look up at once, startled.

I let out a sigh and turn toward the voice.

There she is—Ange. She’d been harvesting, I guess. A pile of vegetables scattered at her feet, like she’d dropped them in surprise.

“Hey, you know dropping veggies hurts, right?”

“Ah—ah! No, that’s not it! What’re you doing, wandering around soaked like that!? Here, dry yourself off!”

Ange fumbles to hand me her towel.

I take it, rub my hair hard with it, like I’m trying to wring water out of a soaked cloak.

The women watching us, smirking. Get back to work already.

"Sorry, sorry. Just took a tumble in the river."

"In the river? Wait—did you fall into the valley!?"

Ange stares at me, wide-eyed. Well, people who fall from the valley and survive aren’t exactly common around here. I’d barely made it myself.

"Guess so."

"Are you okay? You didn’t get hurt, did you!?"

She rushes over, patting my arms, my chest, my back. The girl who was blushing a second ago—where’d she vanish to…?

"Nothing at all. Caught three hummingbirds, too."

"That’s not the point! Just—get warm, you’ll catch a chill like that."

"I know, I know. Can you let go now? I just wanna go home."

"Huh—"

I noticed she’d been touching my body directly—Ange’s cheeks flushed a faint pink. Not from the sunset, though it wasn’t even evening yet.

I handed her the sack I’d been carrying, just in case.

“That’s a hummingbird. A bit damp, but I’ve bled it out—should be fine. Give it to the village chief.”

“Got it, just go dry off already!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Ange pushed me gently in the back, and I trudged back toward the village.

I never made it back to the robot that day.

Mom screamed when she saw me soaked through, and Dad rushed in, eyes wide, staring at me like I’d grown another head.

They grilled me—what in the world had happened? I told them I’d chased the hummingbird into the valley. Naturally, I got scolded.

By the time I’d finished all that, evening had already fallen. I gave up on going down to the robot. The night forest—well, even I knew that was too risky.

Still, I’ll be coming every day from tomorrow on, I suppose.

The sermon ended. Dinner time. Looks like venison stew tonight.

“Honestly, that’s why I told you to watch out in the valley so many times.”

“I get it already. I’m sorry, really. Just let me off the hook. Besides, Ange’s got another lecture waiting for me tomorrow.”

I let out a long sigh, downing the goat’s milk in one gulp.

After getting scolded by Mom for over an hour, I sure as hell didn’t want another one from Dad at dinner.

“Hah… no use complaining.”

“Dad’s too soft. Eld can do anything without a hitch, so he’s bound to get cocky. He needs a real reprimand—make him really think about it.”

“I said I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay?”

No one sits there for over an hour and doesn’t think twice. Unless they’re the kind who actually enjoy getting lectured.

Of course, I don’t have that particular taste.

“Words alone don’t cut it. No going into the forest for a week starting tomorrow.”

“Wha—?!”

You’re telling me not to go down to the robot’s workshop!?! That’s too harsh! This isn’t a punishment—this is torture!

“That reaction proves you haven’t learned a thing! A week of helping Mama in the garden.”

“Dad….”

I look at him, pleading.

He takes a bite of stew, looks at me, and slowly shakes his head. So that’s it, huh? No way out?

“Got it?”

“…Yes.”

“Good.”

I nod reluctantly. Mom beams, satisfied.

But I’m not giving up. Maybe I can’t go down to the robot’s place for a week, but I can still look into robots here in the village—figure things out.

First off, I gotta find out if robots are just… normal around here.

Maybe I’m just a kid and don’t know yet, but maybe there are tons of those robots in town.

“Hey, Dad, I saw something weird while hunting today.”

“Weird? What kind?”

“A giant made of iron walking toward the mountains. *Zu-shin, zu-shin*—real loud, and the whole forest started shaking.”

I ask like I’ve got no clue what a robot even is. If Dad knew, he’d tell me.

“Hmm, that’s probably an Armunale.”

Bingo! So that robot’s called an Armunale.

“Armunale?”

I don’t know the exact workings, but it’s like a metal doll—someone rides inside and makes it move.

"Whoa! So there’s actually a person inside that thing?!"

Well, I’ve seen the real thing, so I know. And I caught a good look at the priest too, just for good measure.

"But it’s rare to see an Armunale operating this far out. This isn’t near the border, and there’s no way the kingdom’d spare one to guard a place like this."

Dad皱眉，歪了歪脸，一脸疑惑。

"Are there really that few?"

"Ah, it costs a fortune to run one. Maybe thirty or so in the whole country, tops. So normally they’re stationed in the capital or at the border. If one’s showing up here… might need to look into it a bit closer."

"Really? Who’s riding it?"

"Knight from the kingdom. Elite, trained specially. If you want the full story, go ask the village headman."

"The village headman?"

Why’s the headman showing up now, anyway?

“Zatts said he once dreamed of riding an Armunale, back when he was young. He’s probably got more stories on the subject than I do.”

“Wait—so the headman had that kind of past?”

No way. I never thought Ange’s father was such a wild one. I always pictured him as calm and proper, with kind eyes and a touch of silver in his beard—nothing like my own father at all.

“Still into Armunale, Eld-chan? You’re definitely a boy after all.”

Mom, who’d been quietly eating her stew while listening to Dad and me, smiled gently and looked at me.

And Dad just nodded along, murmuring, “Mm-hm.”

“What do you mean?”

Once a boy’s seen an Armunale, he’s usually got the itch to ride one—can’t really blame him, not when you’ve got the parade in the capital, or the launch ceremony, and there it is, gleaming in the sun. Makes you want to climb on, doesn’t it?

Your mom, when she was a kid, used to dream about it too. Remember? Standing with her friends, squealing “C’mon, c’mon!” as she watched the white-armored riders march down the street, perched on the Armunale’s shoulder like royalty.

Guess the Armunale riders here are kind of like elite athletes—top of the list for every boy’s dream job, and every girl’s favorite fantasy.

Thirty of them in the whole world, though—yeah, that’s what makes it feel special. Odds must be insane just to try riding one. I mean—

“Mom… you’ve seen one too, haven’t you?”

"Yeah, I never told Eld that. Both Mom and me, we’re from the capital. So we saw Armunale more often than folks from other towns."

"Really!?!"

Wait—what? I’ve never heard that before.

I knew you came here for hunting, but I didn’t know you were from the capital... so maybe you’re actually noble, or there’s a chance my blood’s got some highborn in it—just a tiny chance...

"Still, I was just born in the capital. Nothing special. Just a commoner."

Guess not...

"Then why’d you become a hunter? The capital’s got plenty of other jobs, right?"

"Because I wanted to taste that flavor again."

"Yeah... I get it."

So you had a taste of triangle bull meat in the capital, and couldn’t forget it.

"Then Mom was taken."

"Bwah—!"

The words I muttered under my breath made Dad spit out his stew, and Mom let out a soft “Ah-ah, hoo-hoo.”

“Gah-gah, why would that be!?”

“No, no, it’s only natural. Dad, you oughta realize your own looks a bit. You think anyone else could make a wild wolf kneel just by staring? Ordinary folk can’t do that.”

The legend of how Dad pinned down that stray wolf from the woods with nothing but a glare—well, that story’ll be told in this village for the rest of time.

I’ll never forget that growling wolf suddenly flopping onto its back, belly up, just from Dad’s stare.

And incidentally, that wolf ended up as dinner the next evening. Nature’s a scary thing, that’s all.

“No way! I was the one who confessed to Mom when I got my hunter’s license!”

“Huh!?”

I looked at Mom, startled—and Mom was nodding, a little wistful.

“That’s right. I was the one who confessed, you know. Couldn’t stand the thought of parting ways, working at the stall and all.”

Never thought Mom would be the one to make the move. Guess looks can be deceiving—she’s got more guts than I figured. Then again, how’d she ever manage to dodge Dad’s sharp eyes? Or maybe… she’s the kind of person he’d never notice in the first place?

As Mom and Dad’s first meeting came out in bits and pieces, the evening slipped by, slow and warm, like stew simmering on the hearth.