Ethan fell silent.

‘So this woman had lived here alone for seventy years.’

Slaves were sent to the front in wars or to hunt monsters, and they were the first to die.

Serfs rarely lived beyond thirty, worn out by hard work.

Commoners in the realm, if they could find even a small way to earn money comfortably, fared slightly better – working moderately and resting when needed.

Unless they met a noble, commoners lived the longest of the lower classes.

Knights and nobles, unless they were involved in wars or power struggles, lived out their lives. And royalty – that was a given.

At the time, the average human life expectancy was around 40 years. From a commoner’s point of view, even that was considered long.

Nobles could expect to live up to 60 years at most. Even those who lived exceptionally long barely reached 70.

This was the absolute maximum lifespan that humans as a species could hope for.

“…….”

“Why?”

“Seventy years… The way days are counted might be different from the old days.”

“Three hundred and sixty-five days in a year. The way the months are counted may be different, but the way the days are counted is the same. About thirty days in a month. Twenty-four hours in a day. Sixty minutes in an hour. Sixty seconds in a minute. It’s been 25,721 days since I woke up – that’s seventy years and one hundred and seventy-one days.”

“…….”

It really had been seventy years. Ethan studied the woman standing before him once more.

A body much smaller than his own.

Her head didn’t even reach his shoulders, stopping well below them, and just by looking at her he could see how small she was.

Compared to his own large frame, with its broad shoulders and muscles, her fragile body looked impossibly delicate.

Her hair was cut straight, and beneath it her bright eyes shone with vivid colours.

Her wrists were as thin as twigs, and the skin that covered them was softer than the finest silk used to make noblewomen’s dresses.

Her fingertips were the pink colour of peaches, and her nails were shaped like white crescents at their ends.

From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, she was flawless.

As she stood there, her pale n*ked body completely exposed, she showed not the slightest sign of shame.

Apart from that strange fact, it was her youth that made it impossible to believe she had lived for seventy years.

“Hey, you want to come over here?”

If waved her hand at Ethan, who stood there expressionless.

The prosthetic arm, completed in a matter of minutes, looked identical to her severed arm from the outside.

For a moment, it was enough to make you wonder if she had somehow brought back the arm Kerik had cut off in ‘Rigo’.

Ethan let out a dry laugh and stretched out what was left of his arm – barely half – and let If pull it towards her.

The inside of the newly made arm gleamed with bits of metal.

The shifting lights inside, glimmering here and there, strangely resembled the woman’s hair.

“This.”

“This?”

“What would you call that colour?”

Following Ethan’s gaze, If looked down and examined the lights inside.

“Oh, holographic colour. Hey, don’t you have holograms?”

“What’s that?”

“Something like this.”

She opened her palm wide and waved it through the air.

In an instant, bright blue screens flickered to life in front of Ethan’s eyes.

“…Whoa.”

He couldn’t read the other language, but the numbers were the same.

Ethan couldn’t hide his amazement as he watched the constantly changing numbers.

“Holograms are an old programme. I knew your technology was outdated, but it’s even more primitive than I thought.”

If spoke calmly as she pressed the prosthetic arm onto the severed end of his limb.

Flinch.

A strange sensation crawled along the inside of his skin.

Before he could recoil in reflex, the sensation had returned to his fingertips.

“This is insane.”

Ethan slowly opened and closed his hand, repeating the motion.

From the feel of the tendons tightening to the way the strength filled his grip, everything felt exactly like the hand he had used for decades.

The only difference was that the scars were gone.

“How is it?”

“Suspiciously good.”

“Suspiciously? Hmm, so that means it’s good, right?

It’s my first time making one, but it turned out better than I expected.

Doesn’t look like it needs any adjustments.”

Ethan looked at the woman hovering at his eye level.

She had created something so incredible and yet was casually checking its functions as if it were nothing – it left him speechless.

“Since you’ve given me something like this, I doubt you’ll let me go for nothing. You must want something.”

“No, nothing. I told you, I’m just bored.”

“Huh?”

At his answer, If tilted her head.

Wanting something – she knew the meaning of the word, but it was a feeling she had never experienced before.

“Everything I need is right here.”

If had never asked for anything in her life.

With the development of android robots and artificial intelligence, humanity had lost the concept of productivity – the need to do something.

More precisely, as things were produced without effort, there was no longer a need to do anything.

Of course, currency had disappeared.

There was no one to work and no need to work.

Even without money, everything people thought they needed was instantly produced by automated factories and delivered to people.

Everything humans could do – and more – robots could do completely.

Utopia.

That was what the android robots and artificial intelligence called their world.

And If believed it wasn’t far from that meaning – a dream world without war, work or class.

“I can create anything. I can do anything.”

“……”

“So I don’t need your help.”

‘Mercenaries are useless! At least be a flesh shield, if nothing else!’

Ethan grinned crookedly.

A noble, surrounded by countless knights, still screaming at him to be their flesh shield.

And now a woman in this strange, unknown place, living alone, telling him she didn’t need his help.

He didn’t know how she had done it, but she had the ability to heal him – and the skill to create such a prosthetic arm.

Ethan moved his hand again.

It was truly flawless – as if it were his own real arm.

Truly useful.

No, more than useful – it was such a catch that he couldn’t have got it even if he had used up all his life’s luck.

“You’re going back?”

“Yeah.”

Ethan’s mind raced.

An ancient human, probably the only one in the world capable of handling ancient relics.

But if word got out, every nation would be after her.

The pros and cons of bringing it back.

But the best place for any weapon was always in its own hands, not someone else’s.

That’s how Ethan had lived until now – and that’s how he had survived.

“Take care.”

It was a surprisingly quiet farewell for a human encounter after seventy long years.

But instead of returning the farewell, Ethan simply smiled.

“You said you were bored, right?”

***

He paused for a moment, then lightly tapped the creature’s twitching foreleg.

Its sharp edge was serrated like a saw, and its sickle-like curve was perfectly shaped for catching prey.

Large compound eyes and three simple eyes.

As its back shell shed, thin membranous wings unfolded, lifting its massive body into the air.

A mantis-like beast.

Ethan leapt at the flying beast.

With a swift slash, his short dagger sliced through the insect’s characteristically thin neck.

Taking it down effortlessly, he walked over without hesitation and grabbed If’s hand, pulling her close.

“I told you to stay put!”

“I know, but… I realised I wanted to see it up close.”

Ethan ran a rough hand through his hair in frustration.

“If you want to see it, I said I’d bring it to you!”

“But I wanted to see it now.”

If replied, completely unconcerned, as if she had done nothing wrong.

She had been like that since they got out, and it was driving Ethan crazy.

Sure, he could accept that the ancient ruins that he thought could only be reached through underwater caves after falling into the river were actually connected to another cave outside.

He had seen ancient humans and strange iron puppets – what more could surprise him at this point?

Doors that opened and closed automatically, disguised as seamless dead ends with no visible cuts – he could understand that.

Even finding himself in a place called Belphirn, crawling with beasts at every turn, was something he could accept.

But then, when they should have been busy hiding, she would pull fur from a sleeping beast on a whim, or barge into a beast’s nest out of curiosity.

In those moments, he had almost lost his mind.

And when he shouted at her like a madman for doing such reckless things, she could only ask why he was stopping her.

Were all Ancients like that?

As far as he knew, she had lived her whole life doing what she wanted without anyone ever stopping her.

No wonder she had no patience.

The Locus he had just killed had swung its forelegs at the woman who had approached it fearlessly, its sharp blades slicing through strands of her hair.

Had it been a step slower, it wouldn’t just have been her hair – it would have been her neck.

Trying to entertain a woman who claimed to be ‘bored’ might just drive him to an early grave from sheer stress.

Some of her cropped hair was now falling over her ear, and the strands scattered on the floor were as good as a stand-in for her neck.

It was a miracle she wasn’t hurt.

She had said she was bored, but it seemed she was determined to take an interest in everything in the world – to move without an ounce of fear.

What kind of world had she lived in to have no sense of danger or even basic instincts?

Normally, faced with a drawn sword and a murderous stare, even the dumbest fool would flinch, feel uncomfortable, or try to run.

But If was like an unsuspecting child, happily following whatever piqued his curiosity.

No – even a child would have enough sense to run away, but she chased after danger as if it were fun.

There was no other way to put it – she was completely mad.

“Ethan.”

“Now what?”

“This is uncomfortable.”

After he finally managed to get her into proper clothes, she kept complaining about how stifling they were. Ethan let out a sigh.

“Get used to them and keep them on.”

“These are uncomfortable too.”

She grumbled, pouting as she looked down at the long boots that came up to her knees.

Roughly picked up from a pile of corpses, they were too big and slipped all the time.

Still, no matter how she had survived like a wild animal so far, getting dressed was the first priority.

“No.”

If he gave in even a little, she’d be wandering around n*ked in the middle of this forest.

“I don’t want to run either. It feels uncomfortable. It’s uncomfortable.”

Now she was complaining about something as simple as walking – something everyone did without a second thought.

With a deep sigh, Ethan slid his arm under her hips.

Lifting her effortlessly onto his forearm, he held her up as if she weighed nothing, then turned to pick up the Locus shell from its corpse.

“Ethan.”

“Ethan.”

“What now?”

That damn “Hey, you, listen” – she had been calling him by name ever since he had told her what it was, and now she used it constantly, day in and day out.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d silently laughed at himself for always answering her anyway.

It felt like he was using up a lifetime of hearing his own name, right here.

“So where are we going now?”

“We’ll regroup here and then move out.”

They couldn’t stay holed up in Belphirn forever.

Besides, the guy had stabbed him in the back, so it was only fair that he returned the favour – right in the face.

A wry grin tugged at Ethan’s lips.