That Unique Monster Who Just Got the 'Consciousness' Passive Skill-Chapter 90: Beyond
The world behind the soldier-wall was just— "Whoa."
Passing through, I couldn't see much of anything with my own eyes, as, though I wasn't one, my Character's appearance was that of a young human teenage boy. I was small and had to wait. But then it was the end of the tunnel, and I had to speak every letter of this "woah."
My hand was still locked with my babe's fingers. She was the person who "saved" me, just a minute ago. Thanks to her assistance, I was allowed to pass through the dense sea of soldiers cladded in metal. The clumsy babe was still holding onto my hand, walking as quickly as she did, and I was dragged alongside her. Her hand was soft and I liked the sensation of a female's fingers clutching my hand, somehow, but as the Outside World opened itself to me, yet again, I was glad not to pay attention to the soft sensation on my hand anymore.
My eyes wandered around and were filled with as soft and agreeable a sensation anyway. New things about life. New objects. New people. New affairs, matters, and pieces of land. To anyone seeing this with me, the clumsy babe, for example, my oh-so-wide eyes full of excitement and apprehension might have been a ridiculous sight… but to me, the unique monster who was just about a-week-old, for now, that sight was something to remember. I felt just like when I saw the sun for the first time. This kind of sight—this kind of sun—wasn't blinding my eyes, so I could look as much as I liked.
This side of Greenfield was way, way cleaner than back at the orc boys' place. The area behind the wall seemed, how to put it, very unwarlike, for a first point. A fighter. That's what I was. A fighter was used to seeing the whole bloody entirety of the rest of Greenfield's land.
Even before I joined the battlefield, following the old man's orders, I pretty much only saw that—conflict and blood. Well, maybe I exaggerate, but you get my point. The fact was, I was used to "it." And so, I kind of knew what to expect anywhere I went, even more so on the battlefield… but no. Against my expectations, things here were all charming and beautiful everywhere I looked.
Then, it was reasonable to me to remember my old man's way of swearing and cursing, as it would do for a fitting description: It was very simple. The old man didn't swear much at all. He didn't swear at things. Why would he? Well, he could have some reasons, but he simply wouldn't. He liked politeness, and he encouraged me to like it as well. To be honest, I didn't really care about it as much, but anyway, it was important to the old man. So being polite was important.
Which brings us to the fact that the old man, he didn't swear at all. To the horrors and atrocities of war and its ravages, he would be more than willing to curse. This old man's reflective mind fitted as a good illustration for this side of the whole of Greenfield. The soil on that side was coated with beautiful, bright green grass. The old man wouldn't curse at this sight (or maybe he would, but for other reasons). Here, the people, who were mostly humans, didn't seem much afflicted, distressed, or grieving about the fighting and conflict taking place right next door.
That felt more likable to me. These guys probably were like me—monsters. I could be casual here. Also, it was pleasant for my eyes to see. Using my own words rather than an old man's philosophy to describe the place, on the orc side of the conflict, everything was pretty colorless and ashen gray, but on the human side, I saw a lot of colorful liveliness.
Maybe that's what it meant to either win or lose. Yeah, it must have been that. All about colors. Trust me—I know better. The winners' side was colorful and lively. They didn't lose or die. They won. They lived. They had fun. Here is fun. No "Game Over," here.
Of all the soldiers on duty on the battlefield, the majority of them were forming the soldier-wall I just passed. Whatever formation they adopted, the humans were prepared, and I knew this. As the world behind the wall was opening to me, the soldiers, who were so stiflingly numerous were so lesser in number past the wall.
Aside from one bigger soldier, or two, or three, going back and forth between places, I didn't spot any, unlike the adventurers. They could only be thriving here. Without the dull soldiers' presence, all equipped the same way, all lacking character-ness, adventurers flowed in abundance here.
They were all so different from one another. They "could" be different, and so they were. They probably were all about the liveliness of this place. Without them, the sight would be lacking. And so that sight confirmed it—monster-hunters were great. Plus they had so much fun. I definitely wanted to become one.
What were they doing over there? Was that some sort of facility with a personal healing and tending to the wounded, treating them with much care? The facility, just like any other "construct" established here, at the rear, was the same as the other—quickly edified tents, mostly, composed of numerous white linen sheets arranged into quick walls and a ceiling—the kinds of edifice fitting well the world of warfare, producing a white, healing house. The fancy little symbol adorning the top of their edifice was the same I'd seen on temple knights or paladins. The paladin I saw healed people, too, just like the healing house. That was amazing. So that's how they won? They got their priests put together in teams, and they healed their wounded fighters?
Oh, and what were they doing to that side? Well, there were people holding their armors and weapons, clustered around some other quick-built edifice, where a single stocky and dumpy creature was going all "Clang clang clang" with a red heavy hammer… and they were laughing, too. Were they laughing at him because he was a dwarf? No way. I couldn't let them. Or wait, was it about something entirely different? He laughed alongside them, after all. Ah, and that didn't matter at all. There were so many other wondrous gatherings and people going about their own affairs I could marvel at. The last time I had seen so many people, with their noises and merchandising, was back at the commercial alley, in the peaceful little village of Sville. Now, I was witnessing the same intensity of liveliness, but man, as it was about adventuring and not selling goods, this time, I was in.
In a second, my rapidly searching eyes could spot a dozen sites to intently observe—but I was cut short: "Here we are now, kid!" No can do. There were other plans for me, it seemed. Here we are, she said.
Silently pacing through the sea of wondrous people and places, we had gone through the soldier-wall, but my babe didn't stop yet. Not at all, actually. It was like she would never spot, hold the hand of the monster she called "boy" forever, and make me visit all places and marvels of the Outside World. To help me out for reasons still blurry to me, she had to come out of the wall to the restricted area, apologize a great deal, and take me back in with her, saying she only helped me because she and her party owed me that.
So, she walked additional steps, and my hand followed hers. But now— "Yes, yes. Here we are, kid." Her beautiful legs abruptly stopped their parade, the babe offered me her best smile, with her head slightly cocked. "Now, I can release that little hand of yours." After she walked ahead of me, she rapidly turned around and crouched to my height. "You can have it back. Here." It was the first time someone gave me back my own hand, so I told her it was mine in the first place, the hand.
With a grin, the lady told me that sure, it was mine, but she still gave it back, and I had better take better care of it, this time, and not wander in the restricted area ever again as it could spell a lot of trouble. As I didn't pay attention, she'd have to tell me that again, however.
That didn't matter. Now, as the lady knelt in front of me, bringing herself to my height, she placed her two hands on my shoulders, being as casual as could be with me. The girl probably gauged my reaction, she blinked twice and slowly tilted her head to the side, with a genuine smile, this time, building on her face. Her lips were pressed together, but she unsealed them and began to speak… but I cut her short right away.
