With Gron and Dal, I am following the path of headlights Y indicated. They are connected and powered by a single cable, the connection of which is located in the dark, beyond my field of vision.

Dal is in awe of these instruments. He is prey to a different amazement than mine.

The first time I was here on this glacier. I remember being left speechless.

This also applies to Dal, but his attitude is different. Curious.

Interested.

As an adept.

Dal puts his hand on everything and asks me various things. “What are they?”, “Are they magical lights?”, “Do I need an enchanter?”, “Did I create them?”, “Are we in the realm of the dead?”, “I glimpse blue fire under the glacier, or is it an illusion?”, “What are these gigantic iron tubes?”, “This darkness—”, “But if I used—”, “With this I could—”, “In short, if I consider—”.

There is the innocence and excitement of the scholar behind his words. He who in life saw and did things that other mortals can't do…

…but what do I think? Even I am still surprised by little. However, my curiosity is not fueled by such pragmatism.

Dal wants to do, as well as know. The fear of him. The reverence for him disappears in the face of his need for knowledge.

I look at him, I smile, we move forward into the darkness, and…

“Sorry Dal… even on this question… I don't know what to say. I'm ashamed to be so ignorant, but I've been around too long.”

“Uh, ironic.”

“What?”

“Ah… sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect you, it's—” his voice becomes awkward again, the fear of having offended me…

“Calm. N, it doesn't eat you, prr.”

“Thanks, Gron.” I shake my head. I have known nobles and rulers who have spent their entire lives being feared or worse.

Hated.

But what a stress their life must have been. It is annoying, to constantly remind the other person to be spontaneous.

I do not want to hurt anyone. Do I look that evil? Why is it often thought that I want to deceive the unfortunate person in question?

Of course, for the faithful of that imaginative Ivykku, I am evil only because I am not a beautiful elf.

I do not know. Many deceased people catch on, and we spend a wonderful time together. Even Dal, immersed in his craftsman's contemplations, was like this until recently.

Of course, the punishment of the [Temporal Guillotine] is truly terrible…

…Who knows how much regret he must have had? Reliving and reliving your mistakes, understanding that you can change them, but being inexorably forced to relive them…

HA! I do not want to think about it!

“N, when you're done minding your own business, you might as well answer us.” Gron shines its fur.

“Huh?”

“Dal explained to you that ‘it's ironic’ that you only exist for a short time and don't know anything. This is because the Yellow Queen told him she is too old and many things did not yet exist.”

“Ha, oh—grabbed!” I smile and get back on the road.

There is nothing else to do.

♦

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“Dal, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, but I'm sure that, as a human, I will have no way to give you a satisfactory answer.”

“I just need you to be sincere. So,” I clap my hands and put my index finger to my lip. “I would like to know how you became so powerful. You are currently one of the highest-level beings I have ever met. To your full potential, I'm embarrassed to admit it, but you have even more levels than me.”

“Oh, that flatters me. Yeah… er, the thing is, I had dreams in my youth.”

Oh, dreams.

Dreams.

Someone else had dreams. Who?

The dead?

Yes, but no. It is Sylviette who had some big dreams.

I put a hand on my forehead, and my head started to hurt. Thinking about Sylviette's dreams hurts me. I remember that she dreamed of how to kill the [Devil]. A truly convoluted System coding flaw.

How did she know, how did she do it?

Angh! My head hurts, I am sweating—

“N, sorry, did I say something wrong? If so, excuse me, I—”

I raise my palm and signal to wait.

Dal's worried face, the darkness, and the spotlights in the background… okay, I feel better now.

I do a little bow. “I'm sorry, it was a slight illness.”

We continue our journey, but I hear Dal sighing.

“Go on, please.”

“I had some dreams. I am the son of a craftsman and an herbalist. I already had some practical skills. But those dreams were prophetic. I saw knowledge of distant worlds and times. Very far.”

“But they weren't just dreams, were they?”

“At all. These were true pieces of knowledge, visions like the desert mystics would say. I consulted some of them in the first years of the pilgrimage, but I was superior. And arrogant. I felt kissed by a god. A god of wisdom, if it exists.”

A god of wisdom.

The God of Wisdom.

Ngh…

“Go ahead.”

“N. Everything's fine. Prr.”

“Yes, go ahead. It's nothing.”

“Dreams showed me arts, secrets, and journeys to make. I completed them. Unlocked secrets are closed to most people. Initially, I was pleased with the veneration I received. So, I got the class: Demigod and the job: Unholy paladin. That surprised me.”

Ci-cin.

I notice we are approaching a new structure. The pipeline ends up inside us, in the darkness.

It is a tower of those that burn blue gases on the distant peak.

“Why did it surprise you? Classes and jobs rarely are chosen. They happen if the requirements are met.”

“Already. But a paladin defends a cause. Mine was a cause of personal knowledge, therefore unholy for this? I do not know. I only know that the dreams ceased, but not my thirst for power and knowledge. So, seeing that I could have nothing more from the outside world, I arrogantly believed… yes, so I shaped my body and created Gron.”

“Prrr, flattered.”

“Right, so you created Gron following a dream?”

“No, those times were over now. I wanted to create my clone but I had to do some experiments. Before I created another being like me, I needed something simple. Any life.”

“That's not very flattering, Dal. I wish you wouldn't tell her this story.”

Dal scrutinizes Gron for a moment. He shrugs.

“Okay Gron, I'm not telling this story. I can, right?”

I nod, but I am confused. Gron does not want to tell me something?

Being the center of attention is usually its hobby. Among other things, now I understand where his narcissism comes from, in short…

I shake my ears.

Red and green lights appear in the darkness, better outlining the tower.

It must be the place indicated by Y.

We have arrived.

♦

The interior of the structure is anonymous and bare. There are no working electric lights, and I have to resort to [Will-o'-the-wisp] to light the rooms we pass.

There are rooms full of Interfaces, corals spread out of the walls, and pipes.

The corridors are narrower and shorter, and the rooms are smaller. Compared to the central structure, this is a peripheral place.

We arrive in an open room where we can see the pipeline diving under the glacier. Here, even the walls and corals freeze, and a faint wind comes from underground.

Cracks in the pipeline, perhaps in the ice, unable to fully heal.

The search for the warehouse lasts a few minutes, which we do not converse.

Not that there's much more to say. Dal is still interested in what he sees, but Gron's veto has silenced him.

The more I look at them, the more I wonder what kind of relationship existed between them.

Are they old friends? Sure. But am I also a creator and creature? Sure, again.

There is respect between them, but also something else. Something that Dal's expressions of amazement and Gron's placid wagging of its tail hide from my eyes.

The inside of the warehouse is dark.

It has no windows or artificial lights. However, we will see each other.

Rectangular blocks pyramid. Many blocks overlap one another.

They are [Dry Flare-Oil] and shining with the dark blue flames inside.

There is nothing else in the warehouse.

Concrete and ice.

The pyramid is several meters high and wide. It is built of thousands of identical blocks.

One of those metal creatures is on the ground, inert, next to the pyramid. In addition to the four-pointed limbs, it has others with blades and tools that I do not know about.

Perhaps it is someone responsible for processing these rectangles. I cannot know, and I would have to ask Y.

In any case, he is clearly without willpower. I can consider it as a sleeper.

Ci-cin.

“Dal.”

Dal turns to me.

“How many blocks do you need?”

Dal looks back at the pyramid of dark light. “Many. More than anything to try. Craftsmanship is not just a matter of skill. I have to do tests and tests. Y sure could help me, but I need time and—”

“All right. Now that I know the zone we can return in an instant. Feel free to choose the pieces you think are most suitable.”

“Is there a difference?”

“I don't know—hehe.”