One-Eyed Monster

Although Igor found the Little Black Hands’ reactions odd, he didn’t have the luxury to dwell on it. His plan needed to be put into action quickly, as delays would only place them at a disadvantage.

He had already summoned Granny, and Kadi was ready for action. However, Igor still felt as if something was amiss.

”This isn’t the right time,” Granny murmured, refraining from any comment on Igor’s plan.

She would support any decision Igor made, as she was simply an elder assisting him in his endeavors.

She would help Igor in times of crisis; this was the condition of their bargained agreement. However, the more she assisted him, the slower his growth would be. Therefore, Granny sometimes dialed back her intention to help Igor, and in fact, did so most of the time.

The Little Black Hands were still excited, persisting even though Igor didn’t intend to engage with them.

”We’re interested in the stories you mentioned, too.”

”Yes, yes. Could you share a bit? We love stories the most.”

”Tell us, maybe we could offer some advice.”

...

They were incessant; their chatter was enough to drive anyone mad.

However, Igor had no intention of revealing anything to them. This was their trump card against the Dark Force, a secret weapon of sorts. There was no way he would disclose it to just anyone.

Kadi shrugged, indicating that he wouldn’t spill a word either. But the truth was, he didn’t know anything. Even if he wanted to share, he wouldn’t have anything to reveal.

The Little Black Hands’ interruption momentarily disoriented Igor; he lost his train of thought.

This Granny seems kind; she must know. Realizing that pestering Kadi and Igor was pointless, the Little Black Hands switched tactics and focused on Granny instead.

”Are today’s youngsters so impatient?” Granny sighed, her voice filled with regret.

”Youngsters?” The Little Black Hands were taken aback by Granny’s remark, as though something hidden within them had abruptly awakened.

”Look at yourselves, so playful that you’ve forgotten who you are,” Granny said with a pained expression, almost as if she was talking about her own children.

The Little Black Hands were startled. It felt like they had found home!

”Are we... the same kind?” one of the bolder Little Black Hands asked directly.

”We come from the same world,” Granny replied in her gentle voice.

The Little Black Hands were extraordinarily excited. Finally, they had found someone they could relate to.

”Then, can you tell us who we are?” one asked. ”This question has been tormenting us. It’s been hard for us to adjust.” Like many others with a predilection for shortcuts, the Little Black Hands were no exception. Since they had encountered a knowledgeable elder, they decided to ask directly to save themselves unnecessary trouble.

”You must retrieve what you have discarded yourselves,” Granny said, grinning, not giving the Little Black Hands the satisfaction they sought.

Her answer was like a bucket of cold water poured over the Little Black Hands’ heads, jolting them back to reality and instantly calming them.

What they had lost—that was their constant pursuit. Their origins and destinations, everything would become clear once they found what they had lost.

Granny was indeed their lucky star.

They wanted to say something else, but surprisingly found themselves tongue-tied.

Granny looked at the Little Black Hands, her tone softening with kindness.

”Since birth, we’ve been interested in the outer world, hence the allure of stories to us.”

The more Igor listened, the more disconcerted he felt, as if the missing piece he had been searching for was slowly coming into focus.

”From one world to another, the myriad forms and colors of the New World leave us bewildered. At the moment of our awakening, no one told us about right or wrong, beauty or ugliness.”

Granny’s way of speaking was unique, and it was unclear whether she was addressing the Little Black Hands, or Igor and his companions.

Because of Granny’s story, Igor found himself slowing down. He knew that his plan was heavily dependent on the Scale of Faith; without Granny, he couldn’t accomplish anything.

”We search endlessly in this world, hoping to understand it. But the process is so complex that many of us lose our way and even forget who we are.”

The Little Black Hands hung their heads in shame.

Hearing this, Igor began to piece things together.

Previously, the Spirit he had awakened in his Inner World mentioned an already awakened Spirit within his body. Now, it seemed this Spirit was Granny.

The Little Black Hands were clearly Spirits too; he had confirmed this in his Inner World before.

From Granny’s words, Igor deduced that the Dark Force they were confronting, the entity they had to deal with, was also a Spirit.

”Various forms permeate this world, but we often forget that we’re just passing through.”

Granny spoke in a somewhat rambling, mystical manner, as if she possessed an endless wellspring of emotions.

Amid this rambling, Igor understood. Their enemy was indeed a Spirit.

This also explained why their opponent could fight them continuously without needing rest.

Granny’s words actually helped Igor—if their opponent was a Spirit, ordinary attacks wouldn’t be effective.

”Every story is a reflection of our existence, each representing our experiences,” Granny continued. While others might not have understood her words, Igor did. Isn’t this the very Verbal Attack I was considering?

”But we never imagined that this world would be so complicated. Many stories are not as we imagine them; they are all different entities. We can’t distinguish between what’s real and what’s illusory.”

The more Igor listened, the more invigorated he became. He had initially felt something was missing from his plan, but now, it seemed complete.

They had prepared enough stories. From Granny’s words, he finally understood: it wasn’t the number of stories that mattered, but their distinctiveness.

”Whether you’re juniors or friends, companions or apprentices, Granny has said all she needs to. It’s up to you to continue on. Granny is tired and needs to rest a while in the chair.”

When Granny finished speaking—neither too long nor too short—the Little Black Hands, though mostly confused, felt an odd sense of clarity. Igor, on the other hand, was more resolute. He completely understood Granny’s words.

This time, he finally understood the true nature of their enemy and had confirmed his method of attack...

He was utterly convinced they would ultimately achieve victory.

Perhaps neither the seniors who scoffed at his methods, nor the clueless Kadi standing by, knew that Igor had just uncovered a profound secret.