The lord’s army wasn’t particularly strong.

If compared to the bandits, they would have seemed weak.

But with me on their side, the tide turned swiftly.

On the other hand, the bandits had lost not only their leader but also their second-in-command to my blade.

I’m not entirely sure who the second-in-command was, but that’s what I was told.

He might have been the first one I took down—a man nearly as large as Hans and skilled with a sword.

With the bandits' morale shattered, they couldn’t muster even half of their usual strength.

Naturally, a battle you’re eager to flee from is one you’re bound to lose.

One by one, the bandits started to flee.

Yet their escape routes were limited, and one of them led directly to me.

The lord’s soldiers, the merchant guards, and even a surprisingly skilled leatherworker closed in on the bandits. Some were captured, while most were killed.

“Hans the Mighty” was known across several cities, with a bounty on his head.

Particularly hefty sums were offered for the leader and his second-in-command, meaning I’d be rewarded handsomely.

People clapped me on the back in congratulations, but I could hardly celebrate.

I still had this cursed armor attached to my arm.

Granted, it was just a guess, but this armor supposedly carried a curse that brings misfortune to its wearer.

“….”

What should I even do about this?

I slumped my shoulders.

Humans are highly adaptable creatures.

At first, people avoided me as if I were carrying a cursed item, but once they saw the armor was just clinging to my arm and doing nothing else, they quickly went back to treating me as usual.

The soldiers only gave me pitying looks, encouraging me to “Hang in there,” while the leatherworkers chuckled and slapped my back.

“Ha-ha-ha! That’s quite a look you got there.”

“Doesn’t even budge, does it?”

“Whoever made that thing sure was something. Stuck right on you, like it’s part of your skin.”

They seemed amused.

I, on the other hand, was in despair.

I questioned some of the captured bandits about the armor, but no one seemed to know anything about it.

The only thing I learned was that Hans’ arm had grown increasingly muscular after he started wearing the armor.

Originally, his armored arm had been no different from his other arm.

Hearing that, I felt a sudden wave of helplessness.

In fact, I might’ve shed a tear or two.

If I turn into even more of a monster… I really, truly…

“No, I won’t let that happen.”

I was crouched in the corner, head hanging, but I abruptly stood up.

“A curse? That means a witch.”

Though she had no official title, there was Tatiana, who called herself a witch.

If anyone knew anything about this, it might be her.

After giving the bare minimum of farewells, I left the village at the foot of the mountains.

On my way back to the city, I encountered the lord’s soldiers and adventurers who had set out later.

They were traveling in a hurried, chaotic convoy of wagons and carts, accompanied by soldiers.

The adventurers’ eyes went wide upon seeing me.

“Oh! Rafa?”

“Isn’t that Rafa?”

“What happened to the village? Was it… wiped out already?”

They seemed surprised to see me returning so soon, likely thinking the bandits had massacred the village.

“The village is safe,” I said. “The bandits have been dealt with.”

Before I even finished speaking, someone sighed audibly.

“As expected…”

A person let out a choked sound, covering their face with their hands.

“So, we were too late after all.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Not exactly a good listener, are they?

But it seemed others understood me just fine.

“W-wait, did you just say it’s over?”

“Seriously?”

“Rafa may be strong, but even he couldn’t…”

People started murmuring, clearly finding it hard to believe.

But I didn’t have time for lengthy explanations.

Who knows when the curse within this armor might manifest?

Hans’ arm had grown gradually, but he wasn’t a mage.

No one could say how this armor would affect a magician.

I noticed several people staring at my arm and the armor affixed to it.

Now that they knew the village was safe, their attention shifted to the strange piece of armor I wore.

Feeling their gazes locked onto me like nails, I hastily took my leave.

Despite my urgency, the city was still some distance away.

I couldn’t simply teleport there in the blink of an eye.

It took several days to reach the city, and one of those days brought rain.

A late autumn drizzle began in the twilight, cold and relentless, making the dirt roads slick and muddy.

Running in such conditions wasn’t an option—not without risking injury, or even catching a chill, despite my luck so far.

So, I reluctantly paused, seeking shelter from the rain.

I found a thick tree and fashioned a makeshift tent, draping a piece of leather over a branch. Gathering damp twigs, I fanned a faint breeze over them to help them dry, a delicate task, though I managed by skimming the air across my skin.

Once the fire caught, I lay down, exhausted from days without proper sleep. But sleep eluded me.

As I forced my eyes shut, I heard a faint tapping.

Opening my eyes, I turned to see Lella, my bird companion, fluttering her wings and pecking furiously at the armor.

The look in her eyes suggested she was ready for a fight.

Why was she fighting with the armor?

I watched, bemused, until I sensed something shift within the armor.

I couldn’t hear anything, but there was a faint stirring inside, as if something were murmuring.

A chill ran through me.

There’s definitely something inside this armor.

I bolted upright, my lingering drowsiness gone.

“Chirp!”

Lella backed off momentarily, only to waddle forward and peck at the armor again.

“Chirp-chirp!”

Peck, peck.

Lella, are you protecting me? Is that why you’re fighting whatever is inside this armor?

I reached out to thank her with a gentle pat, but she squawked and snapped at my hand.

“Chirp-chirp!”

“….”

Guess that wasn’t it.

She wasn’t protecting me; she just found a new enemy to fight for fun.

I spent the rest of that night wide awake, unable to sleep with whatever spirit might be stirring inside the cursed armor.

There was a faint, unsettling feeling that the armor was drawing my arm toward it.

At first, it was just touching my skin, but in an instant, it clamped onto me, and I had a strong premonition that soon, my entire arm would be swallowed by it.

A single night felt like an eternity.

I barely made it to the city just as the gates were about to close.

If I’d arrived a moment later, I would have had to spend the night outside.

The city guards, who seemed to know about the recent bandit attacks, recognized me and bombarded me with questions.

“How is the village?”

“Is everyone safe?”

“You came back so quickly, I thought maybe…”

I felt their eyes drift to my arm and the armor, so I raised my left hand and waved it briskly.

“The village is safe. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m in a hurry.”

Without stopping, I raced through the city.

Perhaps it was just my imagination, but my right arm felt slightly larger than it had been a few days ago.

I had to hurry—otherwise, I’d end up turning into a monster.

When I finally reached the inn, I ignored the shocked expression on the innkeeper’s face and ran upstairs to the room I shared with Tatiana.

The door was locked, just as I had instructed her.

“Tatiana, it’s me, Rafa.”

At the sound of my voice, the door unlocked, and Tatiana’s golden hair peeked out.

“Rafa? You got back so soon. Everyone said it would take a while…”

Her words trailed off as she looked up at me.

Tatiana was shorter than me, as were most people, so her gaze naturally fell first on my stomach and arm.

She quickly noticed.

“What’s that attached to your arm?”

“It’s… armor.”

Where to even begin?

I let out a small sigh.

“I can see it’s armor,” she said with a puzzled smile, tilting her head. “But why is it… stuck to you?”

That’s the very question I wanted answered.

After I quickly explained the situation, she ushered me into the room as if it were her own and pulled out a small pouch, brewing two cups of tea from the herbs within.

“I was just about to have tea myself. Witches, after all, love their tea.”

For some reason, she said it with a hint of pride as she placed a cup in front of me, smiling.

“For now… I’m glad you made it back safely. While you were away, I prayed every day as a witch does—prayers for stray arrows to miss you, for you to eat without illness, for no evil to cross your path, and for the curse to pass by harmlessly.”

Tatiana examined the armor attached to my arm, lightly tapping on it.

“I can’t say my prayers are very powerful, but they might have been enough to keep away minor curses. Though I’m not sure they’d block a powerful curse or something deeply malicious.”

She tapped the armor thoughtfully.

“All I know is that its original owner… what did he look like?”

“Hans? They say his arm grew bulkier over time after wearing this. His strength, too. But only on the armored side—the rest of him looked normal.”

I recalled how easily I had dislocated Hans’ shoulder and nodded.

After a moment, Tatiana placed her hand on the armor and murmured softly, “Hear me, spirit. Answer my call. Show yourself to me.”

Nothing happened.

No flashes, no sounds.

Yet, there was a presence, subtle but unmistakable.

I stared at the armor, sensing a faint stirring, like a breeze within it.

“Listen,” Tatiana said slowly. “I’m not certain, but… this might be a Spirit’s Armor.”

“A Spirit’s Armor?”

“Yes. My master once mentioned something like it. I thought it was just a legend.”

With a troubled look, Tatiana met my eyes.

“Ages ago, there was a brilliant mage who created something called Spirit’s Armor.”

She hesitated before continuing.

“This mage believed that ordinary people could harness magical power if they had a spirit within them. So, he imprisoned spirits within armor.”

If this is that armor… could it really be cursed?

Perhaps the spirit was angered and transformed the armor into a curse.

“Is there any way to remove it? Did your master ever mention breaking such a curse?”

Tatiana shook her head.

“No, I don’t think so… Oh, but she did teach me something called a ‘Spirit Contract.’ It’s a way to borrow power from a spirit. If there’s really a spirit in this armor, that might work.”

“….”

“But only a witch can make a contract with a spirit. That’s what my master said—ordinary people can’t.”

Tatiana thought for a moment, then added, “Hans’ arm probably changed because he used the armor without a contract. That’s the side effect.”

No one truly knows what spirits are like.

Witches’ prayers and spells often invoke them, and people believe that witches achieve their powers by borrowing spirits’ strength.

“I was taught that spirits protect and love the witches they’re bound to.”

Tatiana smiled, looking at me.

“When I chanted that incantation just now, I didn’t feel any malice coming from this armor. I can’t say for sure, but it doesn’t feel harmful to me—as a witch, I mean.”

She tilted her head, thinking.

“I think this armor might actually like you.”

I found that hard to believe.

“Why don’t you try the contract? If it doesn’t work, well, then nothing’s lost.”

“…”

Maybe I should consider other options.

I was hesitant, but I eventually nodded.

When Tatiana cast her spell a moment ago, I had felt something inside the armor.

I couldn’t say if it were truly a spirit.

But it was different from the chilling sensation I’d felt while alone.

Maybe because Tatiana was a witch, but when she chanted, I felt a hint of something… almost warm.

Even if the so-called contract didn’t bond us fully, it might calm whatever dwelled within.

Maybe it wouldn’t curse me.

With that resolve, I gave Tatiana my permission.

She placed her hand gently on the armor, ready to begin.