Seeker of Truths

"Arghh... What happened...?" Claude's vision blurred as he opened his eyes, trying to look around him.

The last thing he remembered was taking down two of those monstrosities, but he didn't know how the battle ended.

'At least I'm alive... That must mean we won—' His thoughts were interrupted by a terrible pain assaulting his skull.

It felt as if a vice was tightening around his head, threatening to crush it.

The merciless torment gnawed at him for an unknown amount of time before it subsided.

Was it gone? Or did Claude grow numb to it?

He didn't know the answer but was thankful he could now think clearly.

Unsteadily standing up, he surveyed his surroundings as his vision began to clear up.

"Emissary?!" A voice filled with pleasant surprise came from his right.

He turned and found the villagers sitting in a circle on the floor, most stained with blood and ripping cloth from their attire to wrap the wounds of the injured.

"Peter...?" Recognizing the person who called out his name, Claude's thoughts rapidly gained clarity. "How was the fight? Did we win?!"

Desperate to set his mind at ease, he asked despite all signs indicating their victory.

With a complicated look flashing in his eyes, Peter answered, "We won..." He gestured over his shoulders.

Following Peter's movements, Claude's eyes locked onto a large pile of machines scattered on the cathedral floor.

Unlike the ones he had taken down, these were covered in horrific scars marring their silver skin.

The sight relieved Claude, understanding they were safe for now.

However, Peter wasn't done speaking, "But we lost too many men..." said the boy-turned-warrior, shaking his head.

Initially, Claude was confused, but he soon saw what Peter meant.

Corpses.

Dozens of corpses were lined up on the floor in an orderly manner, unlike the haphazard way the enemies lay.

They were all familiar faces, that now lay in an eternal silence.

Claude had initially only taken a cursory glance at the surviving village guard before but now realised they merely numbered slightly more than twenty.

That meant almost half had fallen in this fight.

Yet, as he took it all in, Claude could only feel... a void in his chest.

His mind had been battered more in these few days than ever before.

Despite staring at the corpses of his fallen comrades, it was as if Claude was looking through them at something else.

An all-devouring sense of emptiness gnawed at his heart.

Anger.

Sadness.

Despair.

The emotions he had expected didn't appear.

It felt like Claude wasn't even there, but instead, he was looking through the eyes of a boy named Claude.

Patting Claude's shoulder, Peter mistakenly thought the motionless boy was in shock and drowning in guilt. "There's no need to worry, this wasn't your fault."

Gaining Claude's attention, Peter felt relieved.

Disregarding Claude's status as an emissary, at the end of the day, Claude was merely a child.

Powerful, yes.

But still a child.

And Peter didn't want a soul as young as this to suffer from guilt, especially when it wasn't Claude's fault.

"You've done your best. Without you, we wouldn't even have been able to win the battle. Look, even with you taking down two of them, we almost lost..." Peter sighed, thinking of the previous battle. If it wasn't for Claude, he and the others wouldn't have been freed up, which allowed them to overwhelm the enemies with sheer numbers.

"Come on, everyone's waiting for you," Peter said, pulling Claude along towards the others, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Soon, Claude found himself sitting amongst everyone else. Despite their apparent grief, they all did their best to thank Claude for his help with smiles on their faces.

Among them was Karl, who looked as if he had aged several years despite the absence of any major wounds on him.

"Claude... Are you feeling better?" he asked.

"I'm okay, other than a headache... I've been meaning to ask, but have you already checked the cathedral? Are there any more dangers here?" Claude replied.

"I haven't checked yet. I had to stand and guard the wounded," said Karl.

"Claude, could you join Peter and me to search the other areas of the building? I don't think there will be any more dangers here, but if there were, we should be able to escape at least."

Claude paused, his mind rapidly turning. 'My time asleep allowed me to recover around three spells worth of mental energy, and with these two close by me, there shouldn't be any dangers...' he thought.

However, there was one more thing that drove him: knowledge.

It was one of the main reasons he wanted to join the expedition, and now after this arduous chain of events, he was finally able to search for information.

'Maybe I can find something regarding those big steel giants...?' The prospect lit a fire of enthusiasm in him.

If he could learn about those foes, especially their use of steam as a power source, it would greatly increase his understanding of steam and boost his mental energy.

"That should be fine," Claude answered and looked at Peter, who was by his side.

"Are you sure, Claude? You have only just recovered. Don't you need more rest?" Peter asked.

Though touched by the gesture, Claude denied the proposal, "I'm fine. It would be better to scout the area for any more danger than simply rest here. We don't want to get caught off-guard again."

Thus, the trio soon found themselves leaving the others behind to recover and headed to the rear end of the cathedral.

'An altar?' Claude pondered as he stared at the scene before him. A large silver altar stood before them, with a book lying on it.

Nevertheless, this book differed from all the other books Claude had ever seen. It had a cover made of a sturdy piece of steel and a spine made of interconnected metal pieces.

Out of curiosity, Claude stepped forth and grabbed the book. Yet...

"Is something wrong, Claude?" Karl asked, as he and Peter immediately raised their spears, ready for a conflict.

"No, I just... can't lift this book." Embarrassed, Claude had no way to lie about this and simply spoke the truth.

Initially, Karl and Peter thought Claude was kidding, but seeing his serious expression, their disbelief faltered. They then tried to lift the book to no avail, even with the veins on their forearms bulging.

"Can you two try and turn the page instead of lifting the book?" Claude suggested.

Hearing this, the pair's eyes lit up as they used their strength to pry open the cover of the book.

This time they succeeded, and the true contents of the book appeared before them.

"Huh?" A sound of sheer confusion escaped all three of them. What appeared on the page were words, words carved into the thin silver pages of the book.

But these words were in a completely different language, one none had ever seen before.

Disappointment crept into Claude's mind as he saw this. He realized his attempts to learn more had failed before even starting.

Even if he wanted to learn the language, it would take far too long with just this single book.

Despite the disappointing discovery, they all began to head past the altar to search for more.

Soon they happened across a massive doorway at the rear of the building. It looked eerily similar to the entrance but was missing the door.

Stepping inside, they found it much brighter than the main body of the cathedral.

The windows were mostly clear bar being stained with a thin layer of dust. However, what shocked them was what was inside the room.

At the centre was a massive statue of iron. It depicted a towering figure sitting on an uncanny mechanical throne.

Despite the human appearance of the being, it was eerily reminiscent of the ghosts they had seen before. The figure had gears and pistons where one would normally find a stomach.

At its feet were rows of strangely shaped tools and armour that seemed alien to the three of them.

Elsewhere in the room, bookshelves lined the walls, filled with books similar to the one they had seen earlier.

Taking this all in, Claude's eyes shone with unprecedented brilliance.

'This is it...'