Chapter 71 — The Anomaly of the Sphere

Anyone who had survived the Cecil disaster of that day was no ordinary sort. Even a militia captain would have started out as at least a trainee knight in another noble's domain. This bearded, middle-aged soldier was instantly on alert, one hand pressed to the longsword at his waist, drawing it halfway: "Something's happening!"

Yet the next second, that hair-raising "static shock" vanished. The two soldiers, after gripping their spears tensely for quite a while, exchanged glances, and one of them looked at his captain: "Chief... you're just too tense, aren't you?"

"No, I really felt it just now..." The captain was puzzled himself as he tried to explain, but halfway through, he noticed that the faint magical glow on one soldier's enchanted breastplate had, at some unknown moment, gone dark. "Locke! Your breastplate!"

The soldier named Locke glanced down and gave a low cry of alarm: "Ah!"

But no sooner had he cried out than the breastplate, which had already dimmed, returned to normal—a layer of exceedingly faint magical radiance covering the armor, as though nothing had happened.

Then another soldier's breastplate underwent the same change: first going dark, then recovering. And the squad leader saw that the longsword in his own hand, too, briefly lost its enchanted sheen.

He immediately drew the half-drawn longsword fully from its scabbard: "Steady! Back out slowly, this place..."

Before he could finish, a peculiar force surged from the longsword, as though an invisible hand were tugging at it. The enchanted soldier's sword, a relic of the ancient Gondor Empire, was yanked violently toward the sphere at the center of the tent. The squad leader instinctively fought against the force, crying out in alarm: "Go get help! Something's wrong with this ball!"

The soldier named Locke immediately rushed for the entrance, but halfway there, a tremendous force surged from his armor—strictly speaking, the force was dragging at his armor. He was hauled into the air by that powerful attraction, crashed through the fence and ropes surrounding the sphere, and was then slammed firmly against the "stone ball."

Locke struggled in terror, trying to tear off his armor and break free of the clamp, but the powerful attraction had somehow caused the armor's buckles to lock together completely; several attempts failed to free him. Meanwhile, the squad leader felt the pull on his longsword growing stronger and stronger. At last he could no longer hold his weapon; it tore free of his grip, whistled through the air, and landed with a clang against the top of the "stone ball."

The sword tip was barely half a palm's width from soldier Locke's head.

Locke rolled his eyes up to look at the sword above his head, and finally screamed at the top of his lungs: "The stone ball's alive!! Something's happening!!"

His shout carried across nearly half the camp...

The disarmed squad leader stared blankly at his own empty right hand, then raised his head and exchanged a look with the other soldier in the tent.

The armor on his own body had not been sucked away, and as for the remaining soldier, nothing on him had been drawn in at all.

This "stone sphere" actually picks and chooses what it absorbs?