Volume 1 Chapter 25 Research Is Fundamentally About Challenge—So Instead Of Fearing Failure And Standing Still, We Should Charge Forward Recklessly
"I figured it'd be a golem. And yep, turns out it's a golem after all."
Lich and Crimson had discovered the so-called convenient magitech weapon of the ruins with almost insulting ease. It wasn't thanks to luck, or any extraordinary skill in exploration. They had simply followed the noise and presence of people until they reached it—already unearthed by Humans before their arrival.
Naturally, the scholars and soldiers stationed there, as well as the ones guarding the golem, were all dead now. Lich had killed them on the way in. He planned to bring them back later.
"Sensei, um... what exactly is a golem?" Crimson asked, her voice a mixture of awe and nervous curiosity.
The young beastkin girl with the crimson-red pelt stared with wide, gleaming eyes at the figure half-embedded in the wall. At first, every time one of the Humans dropped, she had reacted with shocked little yelps, mutters, or trembling silence. But once the number of corpses passed thirty, she had grown strangely quiet. She had gotten used to it.
Lich, long accustomed, had instead been noting something else—the sheer scale of resources Humans had poured into this site. Scholars, soldiers, fifty or more of them. The underground chamber, once dark and broken, had been outfitted with lights along the walls, pathways repaired, collapsed halls neatly shored up. Gold, time, manpower—the Humans had invested all three heavily. Enough to stir even Lich's curiosity.
"...As you see, it's an artificial humanoid, a construct built by the ancients," he explained, tilting his skull slightly as he gazed. "Lich only knows what's in the Necromancy texts, but apparently they were common in the old world. Each workshop had one or two. Their use was mainly heavy labor."
"Really? With that look, they were good at heavy labor?" Crimson's tail twitched, betraying excitement more than fear.
Indeed, her reaction made sense. To her eyes, the figure wasn't frightening at all. Instead, it looked like a doll.
Because what the wall held wasn't some giant, looming titan of clay as Lich had half-expected, but rather—something the size of a hand. A delicate humanoid, palm-sized, almost cute.
"According to the Necromancer records, they were basically grunts for corpse-hauling. I thought they'd look like Giantkin or something." He tapped his staff against the stone. "But look at the head, see? It has 'golem' written in ancient script right above it. That's how I know."
"Ah... so you can even read ancient script... that's amazing."
"You have to. A lot of Necromancy texts are old. Without the script, you can't research. Hm. Anyway... guess we'll just take it home."
"You mean... you're going to use it for research?"
"If it works the way the intel suggested—an intelligent errand boy—then yes. Though simple work is already handled by the wisp ghosts. Honestly, I don't know the activation method... hm?"
He leaned closer. The slender limbs, thin jaw, bead-bright eyes, strands molded like hair—he studied every detail. And then murmured:
"This is flesh."
Crimson jolted. "Eh?"
"I'd always read they were made from stone and earth, but no... this one's built from flesh and bone."
"You can tell just by looking...? It's the color of soil..."
"Touch it and you'll feel it. Want to try?"
"N-no thank you! If it's flesh, then..."
"Ancient flesh," he corrected smoothly.
"Still gross..."
"Really? When else will you get the chance to touch a human-flesh golem? Rare opportunity."
"H-human flesh!?"
"Look closely. The skin is stretched across it."
Her stomach lurched. "...How can you be so sure?"
"You've trained your sight, right? The eyes to see souls?"
"...Yes."
"Products made from humans still carry faint traces of soul, even after death. That's why resurrections of humans have a persuasion phase—'Will you accept revival?' But for beasts, no such thing. That's one clear difference. You wouldn't have noticed. You live in an environment where human lives are abundant resources. You've had little chance to see 'other' lives."
"...Abundant lives..."
"Remember the homunculi you slaughtered? Didn't you notice the difference?"
"I—I've never experimented on human lives before..."
"I taught you possession arts, didn't I? When you possessed a homunculus, your own soul and body separated. You had the chance to compare them. Didn't you?"
"I'm sorry... I didn't look that closely."
"Mm. Then next time, look carefully. Human life... it's stickier than others."
"...Sticky."
"That's just how Lich describes it. You'll have your own impression once you observe. With so few Necromancers left, there's no systematization. Anyway, that golem is squarely in our field. Useful or not, it's worth retrieving. Good, good."
He reached out, wrapped skeletal fingers around the doll-like figure, and yanked it free. The sound tore through the chamber—like skin ripping away from muscle, wet and raw.
"Sensei! That's way too rough!"
"The builders didn't leave instructions. No user-friendly design. That's on them."
"Still..."
"This one may be Necromantic, but it's not aligned with the depth Lich seeks. If it broke, well, so be it."
"Eeeh..."
"My goal is dialogue with souls long dead, far beyond this. You'll all find your own themes in time."
He slid the golem into his mantle. Palm-sized, doll-like, it disappeared neatly into a hidden pocket Alice had sewn inside for just such things.
"All right, let's go home. I'll be reviving people on the way. Want to try?"
"Eh!? W-what?"
"Resurrection. Good opportunity."
"Y-you can't recommend something like that so casually!"
"Necromancy basics. And when will you ever have this many corpses again? You should."
"What if I fail?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean—it's life, right? If I fail, that life is gone."
"Of course. But if you fear failure, research never progresses. Techniques are never honed. What matters isn't fearing failure. It's not fearing challenge."
"...But it's life..."
"In Necromancy, challenges cost lives. Failures erase them. But here's the important part. Listen carefully."
Her ears twitched, braced.
"Even if you fail, your own life won't vanish."
"...!"
"That makes it a little easier, doesn't it?"
Crimson went pale, then collapsed forward and vomited. The echo of retching filled the stone hall. Lich tilted his head, baffled.
Strange. She should have felt relief, not sickness.
Once again, Lich found himself utterly unable to grasp the hearts of the young.