The final rank and stats of a spirit that has lost its heart are originally determined by the specs of the armor used as its body.
I had been a little worried about the ordinary-grade helmet.
Fortunately, the Tin Knight standing before me was top-grade, on par with Rocinante.
The highest rank a spirit that had lost its heart could attain.
It seemed the legendary-grade armor and unique-grade boots had properly pulled their weight.
Though it was made of plain, unremarkable tin, it radiated a heavy pressure. The blue gleam shining through the gap in its helmet only added to its intimidating presence.
Unlike Rocinante, another top-grade spirit that could wield every element but was a coward, or Sancho, who had yet to unleash all his strength, this thing gave off such an overwhelming sense of being strong that I could feel it throughout my body just by looking at it.
There was a reason every strategy guide said that if you chose Dolnesia as your character, you absolutely had to obtain a spirit that had lost its heart.
Even at high-grade, it was sturdy enough to serve as an unfailingly dependable tank. With it being top-grade, that went without saying.
It had practically been a story bulldozer at Dawnstar Academia, so Dolnesia, now commanding two top-grade spirits and one irregular, could put aside her worries about dying for the time being.
Naturally, excluding Silves, who was a professor, and Cassian, who would soon reach Sword Master, she had surpassed most of the male leads. She had reached a weight class capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with Iris after her awakening as the Holy Maiden.
Even Dante, the absurdly talented frontrunner among the male leads, and Isabella, a female lead herself, would have a hard time defeating her now.
Angelica, that crazy woman, was the exception, of course.
Having received a name from Dolnesia, Don Quixote rose to its feet.
[Spirit, Don Quixote. Master, Dolnesia. Confirmed.]
With another burst of crackling mechanical noise, it made its eye-lights flash and displayed words above its helmet.
"Did you make that sentence yourself...?"
When Dolnesia asked curiously, the words above its helmet smoothly changed.
[Yes.]
This apparently was not a system-exclusive window. Dolnesia, who could not see status windows, seemed to see it clearly as well.
Was it because it was a spirit that had lost its heart?
Standing there with dull metal scraping noises, the Tin Knight looked more like a robot than a spirit.
Or perhaps a golem, in a different sense.
Then again, that was exactly how it had been portrayed in the game. It could not be helped.
I summoned my status window in midair and opened my inventory.
Swoosh.
A grid of icons filled my vision.
I slipped my hand into one slot bearing the image of a particular weapon.
Shhhk—!
When I seized what my fingertips found and pulled it out, something made of brilliant golden light emerged heavily into my hand.
The legendary-grade weapon Scaramuccia had dropped, Arghalia's Short Spear.
I would soon be getting a new sword from Cassian, so I had no particular use for it. I handed it to Don Quixote.
"Use this as a stopgap for now."
Arghalia's Short Spear ignored a certain amount of defense, could forcibly knock mounted enemies from their mounts, and even had an automatic retrieval option.
It had some fairly useful options befitting a legendary-grade weapon, but its attack power was rather low for its rank. Its reach was also short compared to a longsword, making it flawed as a main weapon.
Furthermore, the Tin Knight spirit's main weapon was an axe, not a spear, so it could not fully draw out its strength with a short spear.
Still, it could not summon its own exclusive weapon like Sancho could. And for all that it looked like this, it was still a legendary-grade weapon—not so useless that it could not be used at all. As a temporary measure, it would make an excellent substitute.
Once I found it a decent axe later, I could simply replace it then.
Don Quixote accepted the short spear from me, and the words over its helmet changed again.
[Thank you.]
And a moment later—
[Father.]
The next sentence appeared alongside another mechanical sound, and I had to question my eyes.
...What?
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Its bombshell declaration made me pull a blank expression without realizing it.
Dolnesia, who had been watching this beside me, was no different.
"...Um, Don Quixote?"
[Yes, Master.]
"Uh... why do you call Ian that...?"
Dolnesia tilted her head, her eyes round.
There was also an awkward expression on her face, as though she could not understand it.
Having received her question, Don Quixote's eye-lights flickered, and weighty sentences began to scroll over its helmet.
[I believe this helmet originally belonged to Ian.]
Tap. Tap.
Don Quixote tapped its own helmet with its heavy iron fingers as it continued writing.
[The armor, boots, gauntlet, and other body parts that make up this body come from different pieces of equipment. However, the helmet that serves as my head originally belonged to Ian. The effects upon my stats come from the specifications of each piece of equipment, but certain dispositions are influenced by the helmet that serves as the head.]
Its disposition changed depending on which helmet it had?
Come to think of it, when a monster's helmet was used as material in the original story, its fighting style had indeed tended to become rather violent.
Was that gimmick reflected like this in reality?
Still, I had never seen anything about its disposition changing based on the helmet's previous owner.
[Therefore, it is not unreasonable to call Ian, the helmet's original owner, Father.]
It was strangely not entirely unconvincing, but it was also utterly ridiculous.
This was not a setting that had appeared in Dawnstar Academia.
I did not recall it ever calling me Mother just because I had made it from a helmet I had worn for a long time.
It had not even appeared in the setting guide, so from my perspective, having suddenly gained a child, this was an incredibly out-of-nowhere development.
...Was this that thing they called responsibility without pleasure?
"Th-then..."
At that moment, Dolnesia lowered her head, fidgeted with both hands, and cautiously spoke up.
Her earlobes, exposed beneath the streetlamp, had turned red.
"Then, since I helped you wake up... does that make me something like your mother?"
...What the hell was she saying right now?
For a moment, I felt my mind leave my body at the sight of her suddenly trying to claim a share.
Bzzzt—
[I believe that is indeed an excellent point, Master.]
And yet, it actually gave this utterly absurd remark a very polite acknowledgment.
[It is true that I began operating again through Master's energy, and it was also thanks to Master that I could manifest in this world and join with this body. Thus, there would be no issue in addressing you as Mother.]
"Th-then—"
[However, it is also true that our relationship is founded upon a contract. Moreover, you are my benefactor, and formally, our relationship may be considered one of commander and subordinate. Therefore, I believe it is more appropriate to call you Master rather than Mother.]
The words above Don Quixote's helmet added firmly, accompanied by crackling mechanical noise.
Dolnesia's expression, her earlobes pink at the prospect of being called Mother, instantly froze over.
Was not being called Mother by this thing really that much of a shock to her?
"...Uh, so, Don Quixote?"
[Yes, Father.]
"Stop calling me that."
First things first, I needed to change that form of address.
Seeing the word Father continuously hovering over that helmet made me feel strangely uncomfortable.
I had not done anything, yet I had an iron child.
It would lead to pointless misunderstandings, and just thinking of having to explain it all later, I could already clearly picture an exhausting future.
Bzzzt—
Once again, there was a mechanical sound, and words appeared over the helmet.
[Do you perhaps dislike being called Father?]
Why did it feel like those were merely words, yet somehow carried an air of being hurt?
No... when you put it that way...
[Unable to call Father, Father...]
...This bastard did not seem as heartless as it claimed to be.
When I stared at it in disbelief, new words slid across its helmet.
[I am joking. Then what should I call you?]
It sure wiped its mouth clean as though nothing had happened.
A hollow laugh escaped me at its shameless change of attitude, but there was no need to waste more energy on this.
"Just call me by my name."
[Understood. I shall call you Ian from now on.]
An impeccably neat acceptance.
It was an address that would not cause misunderstandings while still being suitably formal. I liked it.
Yeah, that was much better.
But then—
"And what are you unhappy about now?"
When I turned to the side, Dolnesia was glaring at me with her cheeks puffed out as though she were about to burst.
Was she really that upset about not being called Mother?
"Forget it."
With that, Dolnesia sharply turned her head away.
No, why?
"At least this is better than getting needless gossip because it calls me Father."
Explaining every misunderstanding would be a pain, too.
Though what was truly annoying was that damned daily paper run by the imperial family.
Those lunatics had plastered me across the front page with fucking attention-grabbing headlines when Isabella's engagement to the second prince fell apart, and again when I, the illegitimate son of a ducal family, stopped the train terrorist attack.
What would happen if word got to those reporters that a spirit had called me Father?
Just imagining myself once again becoming grist for those insane imperial tabloid articles made my head spin already.
I did not want to be plastered across the newspaper with some fucking clickbait headline over this kind of misunderstanding.
Seriously.
"I do not particularly mind being misunderstood..."
Dolnesia mumbled quietly beside me, but once again, I did not properly hear her.
Why had she been speaking so softly that I could not hear her since earlier?
"Could you say that louder?"
"Forget it!"
Dolnesia spun around and shouted.
Perhaps because she was so angry, her earlobes were bright red.
No, this was fucking unfair.
Why the hell was she angry?
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