Chapter 130
“Have you ever heard of Living Armor?”
Elteman said, showing me a glove.
Living Armor. It’s not a completely unfamiliar term. It pops up in games and various subcultures often enough. Living Armor, as the name suggests, refers to armor that is alive. However, being alive can mean various things, but usually, it indicates that a spirit resides within, causing it to move on its own.
In other words, it’s a haunted object.
“Yikes…”
As I tried to take a closer look, realizing what Living Armor meant, I instinctively stepped back, and Elteman chuckled.
“Hahaha. There’s no need to be so terrified. It’s not haunted or anything. Well, technically, it used to be haunted, but now it’s not. It’s been purified at the temple, so no worries.”
“The fact that it used to be haunted is what bothers me.”
“Hey, I told you it’s fine.”
Indeed, I felt no sinister energy emanating from the glove.
After all, he wouldn’t so casually pull out something dangerous. But knowing it was once haunted was just unsettling. I took the glove, inspected it from different angles, and returned it to Elteman. Aside from the initial presentation, I couldn’t find anything peculiar about it.
“But if the ghost inside has already been dispelled, isn’t this just an ordinary glove?”
Without a ghost, it shouldn’t be considered Living Armor.
I asked him that, and Elteman, channeling his magical energy, put the glove back on and replied.
“It’s not ordinary. See, it sticks to you like this. Aside from that, it doesn’t really have any special functions, but it’s enough to be called Living Armor. To be precise, it’s something I artificially tailored to my taste.”
“Artificially?”
“Exactly. Typical Living Armor can lead the wearer to suffer from the mental pollution of the lingering spirit. That’s why most of them are treated as cursed equipment. This one had the spirit removed, and that empty space was replaced with my spell. So while the original various functions are gone, it can still be used safely.”
Well, removing most of its capabilities already signifies a failed product. Murmuring to himself, Elteman tossed the glove back into a pile of junk and stood up. I turned to follow him, and as we moved, he kept chatting.
“Originally, that item was something we received for research from the Magic Tower. One doesn’t necessarily need divinity to remove the lingering energies from objects. You can forcibly separate the spirit and the object using magical processes.”
“But you just said it was purified at the temple.”
“That was after everything was done! The Magic Tower tends to buy cursed objects, so from the seller’s perspective, it’s better to sell it instead of paying to have it purified at the temple. Until the spirit lingers, it’s just an ordinary object.”
Regardless,
Elteman led me to a desk nestled in a corner of the research lab.
This desk was neat and organized compared to the rest of the cluttered lab, featuring a stand connecting numerous magical lines, with an unidentifiable sphere resting on top.
It clearly looked like something out of the ordinary.
Massive magical energy was gathering in one spot along the lines, but instead of conflicting, the enormous energies flowed harmoniously in a steady pattern. It didn’t feel threatening but certainly wasn’t mundane either.
Why this was shown after the Living Armor was beyond me, but seeing Elteman’s confident expression, it seemed he wasn’t straying from the topic at hand.
After the glove was just a teaser, he enthusiastically presented this sphere as the real deal, continuing his explanations. Maybe because our conversation flowed seamlessly, Elteman appeared quite pleased speaking to me.
Or maybe he just enjoys explaining things.
“The focus here should be ‘lingering spirit.’ A person’s soul. A spiritual being. Originally, this glove had no powers but was endowed with strange abilities thanks to this element. By the way, the glove before it was dispelled amplified the user’s strength, enhanced durability, and had a feature that automatically defended against attacks even if the user didn’t recognize them.”
“Oh. That sounds useful. Why was it dispelled?”
“Because it drained an insane amount of life force.”
Ah.
Naturally. If there weren’t any costs, it wouldn’t be a cursed item.
“Once the spirit is gone, the glove loses those functions. The function I replaced through my spell was originally one of the powers possessed by the glove. One could say it’s a residual trace the spirit left behind. Even as a spiritual entity, the energy that emanates from it has a certain pattern.”
Since it was originally a human soul, that makes sense, right? Anyway, I somewhat filled the empty gap, but there was still a limit to the magic I could bestow upon the glove, so I could only restore to that extent. If it had been made from mithril or a metal with high magical conductivity, it would’ve been different. However, it was just made from plain old scrap metal. But then again, isn’t something a bit off here?”
“Is it that magic can’t replace the lingering spirit?”
“Exactly.”
Elteman clapped in agreement with my statement.
Certainly.
While I hadn’t studied magic in detail, I was aware of a few facts, such as every materially existing object in this world can serve as a vessel for magic, and each substance has a fixed capacity for it.
Thus, artisans seek materials capable of holding more magic, which is why knights desire weapons made from such materials. It’s only natural for a knight to want a sword that can accommodate more of their aura, and for artisans to desire materials that can contain all their abilities.
Of course, knights can transcend some limitations over time, but artisans do not have the luxury of ignoring the characteristics of their materials since it’s a fundamental issue.
In the case of martial artists, one might liken it to the problem of the dantian before qi (气).
The abilities Elteman described for Living Armor certainly exceeded those fitting for a mere scrap metal glove. The performance surpassed the capacity the material could contain.
But naturally, Elteman, the one posing the question, had an answer for me.
“From ancient times, items imbued with spirits were favored over magical tools. You know about the Ego Sword, right? Do you know why swords with self-awareness are treated better than other swords?”
“Because the spirits imbued in those items possess superior mysteries compared to artificially created spells.”
“The actions taken by a pure spirit, not bound by the physical shell, are more natural and closer to the truth than any magic.”
“Of course, there’s a distinction in the caliber of spirits. No matter how spiritual, they’d be like fireflies next to the sun before a superior spirit. But what’s important here is the power held by the spirit.”
“A power that can surpass the limits of the material.”
“Exactly. Throughout history, countless mages have aimed to endow materials with spirits to surpass their limits. Well, even if a spirit descends upon a material, the abilities gained would be entirely random and varied, which is why it quickly fell out of favor, but more than that…”
“It must’ve posed ethical issues. Handling spirits can’t be strictly lawful, so the imperial family wouldn’t turn a blind eye to that.”
“Right. Maybe with animals, but mages obsessed with knowledge wouldn’t play by the rules. But spirits aren’t solely confined to humans or animals, are they?”
“Elementals.”
“Oh, you’re quick on the uptake! You could be a mage instead of a knight. Yes, the next target for mages was elementals.”
“But elementals shouldn’t just be manipulated into objects like that. It seems more dangerous than a human soul in my opinion.”
Even a weak elemental, fundamentally, embodies the will of nature and could bring considerable disaster if mishandled. If it were merely about being possessed in a natural state, it might be one thing, but forcing an elemental to inhabit an object wouldn’t be easily permitted.
As expected, Elteman nodded, confirming my thoughts.
“Such things can only be done by a grand mage who can defy the natural order. It’s not entirely impossible, but the risks involved are so high that utilizing elementals has also been banned.”
Elteman’s hand moved toward the sphere on the desk. As he took it from the stand, he channeled magical energy into it, causing the sphere to spin and emit faint light along the engraved circuits.
When those lines of light interconnected, two red dots appeared right at the center of the sphere, as if it had just opened its eyes.
What is this? I feel like I’ve seen this somewhere before…?
HaX?
“But listen. An elemental is born from energy in nature gaining will, right? So it shares the traits of nature. If we deliberately grant will to energy, would it then be possible to create a purely mental entity to assist magical calculations? Is that feasible?”
The answer is a resounding NO.
As soon as Elteman’s words ended, the red dots on the sphere began to flicker erratically, producing an artificially created mechanical voice that couldn’t be mistaken for a human one.
[I’m hungry.]
Though my first words were something like this, I could tell that there was an emotion behind those words that ordinary coding could never convey. It seemed very irritated. Even without expressive features, the voice conveyed a sense of annoyance.
Having an emotion is akin to being capable of thinking and making judgments—proof of existing as an independent entity.
So in other words, this is…
“Ah… this is an Artificial Elemental.”
It means a perfectly developed A.I.