Arknights, but the Family Has Fallen Again and Again and Again

It was his fragmented self.

Having reached this conclusion, Kal'tsit had no intention of sharing it with anyone.

But her next actions would likely be exceptionally aggressive.

"Understood." Skadi nodded and summed it up. "Even though you, Oute, can pull others into the Interstice, it isn't your fault."

Under layers upon layers of verbal cushioning, Oute could still stay detached. But when Skadi skipped straight to the point like this, he had nowhere left to hide...

W deliberately dug at her ears, as if trying to scoop what she had just heard out of her narrow ear canals.

"I heard that right, didn't I?" she said. "Because that completely sounds like the fault of Oute, that monster!"

"A monster!?"

"A monster?"

Both Skadi and Alina glanced at Oute.

Kal'tsit, however, said, "If Doctor Oute can be called a monster, then there are far too many creatures on this land that could be called monsters. Overusing an image makes it lose its freshness."

"He is merely a person who has lost his memories. Nothing more."

"Doc Otter, your command is still necessary now," Kal'tsit said evenly. "Lead us out of this arena."

"Tch!"

W was somewhat unwilling, but she understood one thing very well: when Oute had no intention of trading pieces, working under him was fucking fantastic.

She sneered. "Heh! Use me to your heart's content! Mercenaries are your favorite, aren't they? Like fast food—open the package, eat it right away, then throw it out when you're done."

Oute nodded. "Before you drain your last drop of blood, we'll definitely get out of here."

That blunt response nearly made W lose it.

"Hey!" She pointed at Oute and questioned Kal'tsit. "Has this guy really lost his memory!? Isn't he exactly as nasty as before!?"

"Incorrect. Before losing his memories, he would have phrased it more tactfully. But evidently, that was also something learned later in life," Kal'tsit replied.

The nun trembled as she tugged at Oute's sleeve. "My Lord..."

She was not used to being around so many people outside of combat.

"Shark?" Skadi stepped forward half a pace, then looked at Oute.

Though there was barely any change in her eyes, Oute could still sense a trace of pleading.

Oute nodded and took Specter's hand in his instead, soothing her. "They're all companions. Companions in battle."

"Battle...? This will be a path... filled with sacrifice." The nun's voice gradually rose, and her gaze sharpened.

Skadi nodded unconsciously.

"Yes. The battle is about to begin."

Oute looked at Specter, who had released his lapel and now wore a bloodthirsty smile, then sighed.

If she could stay like this and not cling to me... forget it. She'd be too dangerous for Rhodes Island's noncombat personnel!

She should keep clinging to me instead.

"Are we heading for those ruins? During the seven days in town, I prepared some supplies in advance..."

Alina carried over some logistical supplies. The bulging pack contained practically everything: food, water, shovels, and some simple herbs.

This girl is so worry-free!

Oute nodded. "Thanks for the trouble."

As he spoke, he moved to help share the weight.

"Doc Otter!"

Kal'tsit's warning came too late. Oute had already successfully humiliated himself.

"Pwahahahaha!"

That was W.

The wording Oute used was hardly clever, and he could not be bothered to elaborate on it. None of the people here were people he needed to deceive with some monstrous lie.

However, as the only person present capable of seeing through this line of talk, Kal'tsit's thoughts had already gone completely off track.

The others were either driven by fanaticism, innocence, or, while despising Oute's character, extreme faith in his abilities. All of them were brimming with confidence in the path Oute had pointed out.

Of course, judging from the outcome, after scouting the way, Oute really would return everyone to their respective dreams. For now, their trust had not been misplaced.

The time within the Interstice seemed closely linked to when Oute entered his dream. It too was now under the rule of moonlight.

It was precisely because of this that, shortly after leaving town, W noticed something strange and eerie while scouting...

The Sarkaz girl happened to look up, idly gazing at the sky.

But soon, an odd unease tangled itself in her heart.

Stars glittered across the pitch-black canopy, and a river of starlight stretched across the entire sky.

She stared at the heavens as she walked absentmindedly, feeling that something was off.

After nearly being tripped by a rock, inspiration struck the demolition artist's mind:

There was only a single crescent moon there.

You Don't Stop Me! I, W, Today... Why Is No One Stopping Me?

Deep corridors, priceless dust-covered tapestries, luxurious gold and silver candlesticks and vessels, stately halls, solemn chapels, silent graveyards, orderly armories... Everything in these ruins told one obvious fact:

Its former owner had been extraordinarily prominent and wealthy.

Deep within these breathing dead things, amid the sounds of battle, Kal'tsit said flatly, "Mon3tr, remove their masks."

Standing atop a pile of skeletal soldiers' remains, two bleeding cultists deliriously spoke their last words. "Hahahaha! Rebellious flesh! Grow and multiply as you please, until the day the Old Gods awaken!"

Immediately afterward, Mon3tr's tail withdrew from their chests, and the cultists collapsed with a crash.

In the torchlight, a spine gleaming with metallic luster extended claws and fangs, imposing and ferocious.

Following Kal'tsit's orders, she ruthlessly tore the masks from the cultists' faces. Under her exquisite "claw technique," not a shred of flesh was harmed.

Along the way, those "strange" skeletons had already alerted Kal'tsit. But when Mon3tr exposed the faces of those two "living people," she still felt her heart tremble slightly.

Without sufficient anatomical knowledge, it would be almost impossible for a Terran to distinguish the "human skeletons" scattered everywhere from their own kind.

But once the cultists' masks were removed, even amateurs like them could see that something was wrong.

"No racial traits? Could they be fish too?" W frowned.

She already knew that was not the case. She simply refused to admit it aloud.

W thought of the solitary moon she had seen along the way.

This place is way too cursed! It's becoming more and more like one of those ghost stories! This place is creepy as hell!

W could not help edging closer to Oute—though she was dissatisfied with this suspect, she trusted his decisions greatly.

She firmly believed that there was nothing Oute could not handle, nothing Oute could not solve.

Including Theresa, right?

Kal'tsit drew a deep breath.

She was becoming increasingly convinced of her guess.

"Doc Otter..." There was an almost imperceptible tremor in her voice.

"What is it?" Oute was somewhat baffled.

"No, it's nothing."

Kal'tsit pretended nothing was wrong and knelt on one knee to examine the scattered bones.

This section of the Interstice had to be filled with fragments of Oute's self... If the Interstice were allowed to develop on its own, if these "fragments of self" were allowed to expand without restraint, then dissociative identity disorder might be the "best possible outcome."

Aside from the mission, Oute's safety was the highest priority.

Kal'tsit silently weighed the pros and cons.

She reached a provisional conclusion: first, she needed to confirm whether "fragments of self" existed within the ruins.

"Huh? What's this?"

Following Oute's orders, Alina extinguished the torch and then felt around for loot in the dark—though that sounded exceptionally strange, at least Oute had not told Alina to put out the torch during battle, had he?

Not yet.

Besides a mess of land deeds, bizarre busts, shields etched with raven crests, gemstones of every color, and antiques, she found a strange stone.

When the torch was lit again, she discovered that the stone bore a winged emblem.

Stone of Speed: It is said that this stone can make people faster.

Attribute: Speed +1.

Oute raised an eyebrow.

Among the many low-tier trinkets that he would not even look at, the Stone of Speed was relatively useful.

As a game that was essentially turn-based, in Darkest Dungeon 1, the base Speed stat and the random roll at the start of each round together determined the action order of every hero and monster.

And the principle that speed conquers all applied here as well.

Acting faster meant our side could deal with high-threat enemy units by various means before they acted. Or simply focus fire and instantly kill some of them.

But the lowest-tier trinkets often added a "Speed -1" after an insignificant positive attribute, which meant that in the game, low-tier trinkets were usually only good for selling...

But for the current Oute, every trinket was a mental link!

"This is a huge help. We can light the torch now."

Now...