Ace Roguerider—Amatsu-Mikaboshi, the God deprived of his powers, sat helplessly on the floor, clutching his injured left arm as waves of agony radiated from the Minus Energy infecting it. Gritting his teeth to suppress tears, he endured the excruciating pain. For a moment, he had a thought of avenging himself by obliterating the abomination responsible for his grievous wound, sympathetic creature or not. However, with the Woola that inflicted it already unceremoniously pulverized into atoms by Pestilence’s Geno Thunder, he was denied even that chance for retribution.
After crawling across the filthy wooden floor of the ruined temple, he took cover behind a pile of rubble. With venom in his gaze, he turned toward the direction where the relentless sounds of weapons clashing could be heard.
Death against Pestilence, both are part of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
There is nothing more horrific than the prospect of two Absolute Constants of All Creation actively fighting against each other, considering the collateral damage that would follow… yet the scene before his eyes was a disturbingly mundane sight.
Positioning his gunless blade—Cross Raising Sword—to intercept the incoming laser beams from Gazer’s hovering drones with no unnecessary flourish, XGeats advanced steadily. He countered with gunfire from his other weapon, Cross Geats Buster, but his attacks were blocked by the regal white-armored warrior as he went on the defensive. As XGeats closed the gap to slashing range, Gazer swiftly recalled his drones, linking them with energy threads to form a whip to lash out at the incoming black fox warrior, only for his attack to be parried.
Even though both put weight into their respective moves, the admittedly impressive exchange of techniques dragged on with neither gaining an advantage over the other. As if they’re… merely sparring.
Yes, that must be it.
In their mortal avatars as Adonis and Legiel Roguerider, both Death and Pestilence merely resorted to the capabilities provided by their armored suits’ tech. Not even magic was used in the bout. After all, unleashing their full powers would have led to the same outcome anyway, so they probably didn’t see the point in bothering.
If anything, it only fueled the feeling of helplessness and envy within Ace’s being even more.
Amid his pain-induced delirium, he counted approximately three minutes had passed until a significant development occurred between the two clashing entities. Charging both of his blades with Death’s pale-green flames, XGeats quickly closed in the gap and unleashed an upward cross slash, overpowering Gazer’s guard and launching him into the air. Without hesitation, he followed by telekinetically seizing his airborne opponent and yanking him downward, delivering a devastating punch that completely shattered Gazer’s helmet and violently hurled him into the wall, enough for Gazer’s system to forcibly release the transformation.
Ace still didn’t quite get the intention behind this entire fight. Disciplinary action? It’s hard to imagine. Death is probably bored and wants to stretch his limbs.
Regardless… as expected, Legiel quickly rose to his feet with only a light groan coming out of his mouth.
“Nggh… For all of Ars Goetia… your destruction is the will of the Audience, and I am their instrument…” he sighed and muttered to himself, still articulate even with half of his head missing. Black smoke and occasional flashes of crimson lightning could be seen escaping from the gaping wound. Not that it made a difference, for the moment Amatsu-Mikaboshi blinked, Legiel’s head was restored in an instant, unscathed and whole once again.
“That really hits the spot. Your love tap is really something else…”
The eldest sibling remained silent, still not having spoken since his dramatic entrance. After brushing the dust off his dirtied white jacket, Legiel willed the teleportation magic to appear. As the spell’s storm cloud-like energy started to engulf him, he turned to the still-transformed Adonis with a gentle smile.
“That’s right. Which is why, Eldest Brother… for your sake, I will never give up.”
Since time immemorial, denizens of the creation have feared, despised, and sought to cheat Death. Witnessing such disrespect toward his Eldest Brother filled Pestilence with rage. Which is why… he will finish each and every single one of them, in a manner that leaves them in utter despair that they will long for the solace of Death’s embrace to end it all. Rip and tear, until it is done.
For Eldest Brother, for Happiness… For Love.
XGeats reached for his Desire Driver and disengaged the transformation, leaving Adonis standing there. Turning away from the now-vacant space after Legiel exited the scene, Adonis walked toward Ace, who remained slumped behind the rubble. The younger brother flinched slightly as Adonis knelt down before him, the man’s eyes now at a level with his own.
“You look terrible,” Adonis said calmly.
Those were the exact same words he uttered when Death first met Amatsu-Mikaboshi face-to-face.
“…Does it hurt?”
Ace’s lips twisted into a pained sneer. For a moment, his gaze flicked to his wounded arm, still radiating a sickly purple glow. But before he could respond, Adonis spoke again, the quiet firmness in his tone stopping him in his tracks.
“No, not that one,” he clarified. “The White Rider, what he’s capable of doing. That’s what you’re opposing. Watching it all and feeling it, knowing this is what you’ve signed for. The realization that you cannot stop it, any more than you can stop the sun from setting. Does it hurt?”
Ace’s spite wavered. His lips parted as though to protest, but no words came. Instead, his gaze shifted, trailing to the remnants of the battlefield. The scorch marks, the rubble, the fleeting echoes of destruction. And yet, he had been little more than a helpless victim. When he turned back to Adonis, all he managed to give was a mirthless laugh.
“Alas… once again, you’ve found me in this pitiful state…”
“Be honest.”
“Ngh…”
Adonis hummed, “This time, I don’t have any jars to offer you.”
“No more crutches… huh… Don’t worry. I’m not blaming you for it…”
Interesting choice of words as always, Adonis noted. Even when crushed, Amatsu-Mikaboshi still couldn’t help himself to show signs of defiance. This also meant that deep down, a part of him still refused to admit fault for his own actions. Good then, there’s still hope for him yet. Now the exercise is to see if this particular kami can be further tempered if he were to advance in this ordeal.
“In that case, we should have a proper spar from time to time,” Adonis declared, earning him a bewildered look from Ace.
Ignoring him, the eldest brother continued.
“There is a problem with that particular desire of mine, however. You’re too weak. Let me ask you a question. By your own estimate, how long do you think you will be given time to breathe before I sever you from Heaven’s Wheel?”
Ace’s complexion, already ashen from the raging infection, turned even more ghastly white.
“………”
“I’m giving you a choice. To live or to die,” Adonis rose to his feet and loomed over Ace. “That wound of yours is impossible to heal with anything this world has ever seen. But Pestilence already taught you how.”
Ace gave him a reluctant nod.
In the recesses of his mind, a flicker of memory surfaced: in previous quests, every Minus Energy creature—manifestations of despair, corruption, and entropy—had shattered upon defeat, disintegrating into a cascade of golden light particles. Those radiant motes, called “Hope,” had been their salvation, restoring what was broken, healing what was wounded, and lighting the path forward. While Minus Energy could never be eradicated as an inescapable part of a world’s existence, it could and should be curtailed by those striving for their ideal world. It was a constant: the antidote to Minus Energy was always Hope.
“Now that it’s established that you’ve seen it before, you know how this works. Prove that you desire to see this through until the end. I’ll offer no aid. Heal yourself.”
At that moment, he grimaced as the pain in his arm flared. However, the biting edge of Adonis’ words spurred him into action. With great effort, he straightened himself against the rubble, clutching his arm as though sheer will alone could keep the corruption at bay. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and tried to focus in the same manner as one would channel magic powers native to this world. Sadly, however, things are often not so simple.
The concept itself felt nebulous, intangible. Discipline in training and tech had taught people how to conjure magicks, to manipulate energies through will and technique, but this was different. Hope wasn’t something you conjured. It wasn’t shaped or calculated. It was a force born from belief, from an unyielding desire to move forward despite despair. It was something Ace thought to understand, but… as he gritted his teeth and channeled all his concentration, thinking of their warmth and brilliance…
No warmth.
No light.
Nothing.
Allowing Amatsu-Mikaboshi to try it himself first, Adonis watched in silence. He stood still, observing his futile attempts with the detachment of a scholar examining a failing experiment. The silence felt oppressive.
Ace groaned through clenched teeth, but then, for the briefest moment, faint embers of golden light sparked near his wound. Swallowing, he tried again. He thought of the moments when he had strived for something greater than himself—or so he believed. The times he had stood against insurmountable odds because he believed there was something worth protecting—for his own satisfaction. Yet all he could muster were feeble, flickering sparks that faded as quickly as they appeared. His breaths grew increasingly ragged as his efforts yielded nothing more than fleeting motes of light, each as insubstantial as the last.
Why won’t it work!? I know it’s there! I know it is!
A minute passed. Then another. And then another.
“That’s enough.”
“Huh…?” Ace gasped.
Adonis raised a hand, conjuring flames of pale green in his hand and lunged to grab Ace’s wounded arm with it. The pain was instantaneous as the otherworldly fire surged, far greater than the infection’s torment. Unprepared, Ace screamed. He thrashed against the agony, but the eldest brother’s grip was ironclad, forcing him to endure every moment of the searing process. The green flames twisted and wove themselves into patterns along Ace’s arm, transforming the infected flesh into a hauntingly beautiful tapestry of purple flames etched into his skin.
When it was over, Ace slumped forward, trembling and gasping for air. The pain had subsided, leaving a strange numbness in its wake. He stared at his arm, the tattoo-like mark glowing faintly against his pale skin.
“…W-what is this…?”
“A seal. The Flames of Solemn Penance will contain the Minus Energy, but it remains within you. It will stay that way until you learn to purge it yourself. Whether you desire to be free of it is up to you… not that it will impede your body’s functions, but I would rather see you do it.”
Ace’s mind began to consider Adonis’ cryptic words and actions. The answer began to form as his thoughts coalesced into a single question.
“You’re… setting me up, aren’t you?” Ace muttered, glancing at Adonis with an inquiring gaze.
In response, Adonis tilted his head slightly.
“Are you opposed to going back to learn the basics?” he asked.
Ace shook his head, slowly.
“It will be a grueling process. You will fight, and you will fall, but you will rise again…”
“Hmph… as if I have any other choice—”
“Oh, really?”
“N-no… that’s not what I mean.”
He lowered his head, uttering the following words as softly as possible.
“Please. I… I choose… to live…”
The first and so far the only deity to ever rise up against the Civilization Annihilation Game: the August Star of Heaven – Amatsu-Mikaboshi, has made his decision. Now, this is where the fun begins.
----------------------------------------
January 17, 1617 Central Calendar, 00:30 Second Civilization Time
Holy Milishial Empire Embassy, Otaheit, Kingdom of Mu
Several days have gone by since they mapped and established a surveillance system within the capital city’s territory as thoroughly as possible, but there have been no signs of any Annonrial infiltrators. Optimistic voices suggested that there might not be any infiltrators in Otaheit after all, but Meteos was uneasy about ruling out that possibility too quickly. Moreover, aside from the confirmation through intercepted transmission that they are present in Mu’s territory, they have continued to evade detection by the White Lotus.
As the Ikaruga’s work continued to yield results, testimonies from the new collaborators within the Muish separatists’ ranks enabled the White Lotus to better understand the situation in southern Mu.
The separatists in southern Mu are numerous, but they often find themselves orbiting around three major factions.
The first, Neo-Anfang, is a relatively moderate group that seeks to establish a second Anfang Republic or, at the very least, secure greater autonomy for the southern Muish ethnic group now that they have developed a stronger ethnic identity over the past 30 years. Despite its name, this faction is not actually related to the fallen Anfang Republic from the Mu Civil War era. In their struggle, the Neo-Anfang’s cause is supported by Magicaraich sympathizers who see them as their brethren and view their struggle as one of self-determination in the face of a larger, more powerful state. They are seen as the more intellectual and politically palatable faction, engaging in negotiations with various external powers to secure both financial and logistical support. This included the Holy Milishial Empire, though the Holy Empire’s foreign policy regarding the Second Civilization Area affairs made them politely brush these separatists off.
The second major faction, known as the ULTRA (Union Libre des Travailleurs, “Free Workers’ Union”), advocates for workers’ control of production and broad social reforms, emphasizing collective action and labor rights while expressing strong disdain for capitalist elites as they continue to siphon the already struggling southern Mu of its resources. The group is known for organizing large-scale strikes, which can escalate into violent riots if poorly managed by authorities. Some factions within the Second Civilization Area seeking to undermine Mu have supported the ULTRA by smuggling weapons and other supplies. However, the disruptions caused by the Ikaruga have inadvertently curtailed their plans for more violent activities, while at the same time intensified their distrust of rival separatist groups.
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Finally, the infamous ethnic riots-instigating Anfang Befreiung Front (ABF, “Anfang Liberation Front”), the actual successor of the old Anfang Republic which flies their flag. This naturally places the ABF at odds with Neo-Anfang, which it deems unacceptable for seeking liberation through stroking Otaheit’s dick, while Neo-Anfang views the ABF as unnecessarily radical. Deeply ethnocentric, it prioritizes the interests and sovereignty of the southern Mu ethnic group above all else. Their goal is to establish a more nationalist version of the Neo-Anfang’s state, with a stronger focus on pride and an aggressive stance against the Otaheit regime. The ABF is driven by the stark economic disparity between the underdeveloped south and the more prosperous north, viewing the Otaheit regime as an exploitative occupying force, and the more extreme cells even went so far as declaring their ‘magic-blessed’ brethren outside of Mu as category traitors. Unapologetically militant, they are ready to use violence to achieve their objectives, making it the most extreme faction among the separatist movements. However, like the ULTRA, it has suffered a decline in illegal foreign support due to the Ikaruga’s destruction of smuggling operations.
Looking at this, it would seem that there was little love lost between the separatist groups and the Holy Empire, whatever their reasons would be. Even without a civil war, an independent state governed by these people is likely to escalate regional tensions, among other complications, something the Messiah’s regime would undoubtedly exploit.
In any case, their real target is still out there, plotting to cause damage.
“…So, between the intellectuals, syndicalists, and the terrorists, which one do you think is the most likely to be favored by those cultists?”
“Were it so easy…” Kruger’s creator murmured to himself.
As she and Dunning helped Meteos’ midnight work of sifting through the overwhelming influx of most appetizing information—and secrets—they had gathered by inviting the Kingdom of Mu’s executives into the White Lotus’ cause, Kruger made a remark that broke through the quiet backdrop of rustling papers and the soft hum of their computers.
Dunning, who sat in a meditative stance, ignored her, his optics closed as he continued to transmit data to their comrades in the Middle Lands. Meteos, meanwhile, leaned over the completed schematic of Otaheit displayed by a projector in the middle of the room, his eyes flicking from the map to the tablet in his hand. With only the Magias for company in the makeshift command center, he allowed his face to be seen, his mask resting on his lap despite wearing Amon’s outfit.
The room still had no furniture, but there was a carpet for the three of them to sit on and if Meteos got tired, lay down.
Anyway.
Meteos muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for Kruger to hear.
“At this point, we don’t have the luxury of focusing on just one faction,” Amon mused. “If we concentrate too much on one group, we risk overlooking the others. Hmm… we still lack information about how they operate.”
Kruger huffed, so humanly expressive that one would forget she was a magical version of an android.
“You’d think the Seventy would be able to give us some clue, but no! Apparently they go dark for a long time until the next report, and that’s our only lead. Unbelievable…”
“Such a level of cautiousness is as one would expect from people who managed to fool the entire known world for this long,” the White Lotus Leader admitted, begrudgingly. “In my previous life, Japan only uncovered their ruse because their native era had seen them possessing artificial satellite technology advanced enough to observe the planet from orbit, something that absolutely no one had even imagined. Had they come from an earlier time period than that, they would’ve been as gullible as everyone else.”
“And then they would have perished sooner in the Armageddon.”
Meteos snorted. That wasn’t wrong. In the Civilization Annihilation Game, not even the protagonist is safe from supernatural genocide.
“The progress…?”
Just as Meteos was about to consult his tablet, the other Magia opened his eyes, revealing glowing blue optics as the data transmission was still ongoing.
“Already at the seventy-five percent mark, sir.”
“I see.”
“Congratulations, Master. You already had every other intelligence agency in this world beat at this point,” Kruger laughed.
“Hmm…” Meteos crossed his arms. “Once again, it’s time constraints that hold us back. I could’ve been perfecting Valhalla’s capabilities, but second-best tomorrow, I guess… What a drag.”
Meteos was already tired of being unable to decide the terms of the situations he found himself in.
If it hadn’t been for these annoyingly elusive infiltrators, the White Lotus would likely have basked in their big haul and moved on to other objectives, shoring up their bulwarks against the enemy. After all, unlike the Gynamo Kingdom, a puny peripheral nation with little influence, Mu is still the second superpower with a strong voice on the international stage, despite its chronic problems. For the White Lotus Leader to ascend as the Muish Cabinet and become the de facto shadow ruler of the country, should he choose to, would come with considerable repercussions. However, this would also mean he would bear the responsibility of helping address their problems to prevent them from dragging the White Lotus cause down. Even from a purely pragmatic standpoint, they and anyone would be of no use if they remained burdened by their own problems.
Glancing at the incomplete transmission status displayed on the tablet’s interface, Meteos let out a sigh and rubbed his temples.
“Still, we can’t just sit around and do nothing,” he remarked, straightening his posture. His eyes flicked to Kruger. “Let’s make ourselves useful. Kruger, come here.”
“What do you have in mind, Master?”
“Well…”
Without answering directly, Meteos swapped the current holomap of Otaheit for another data file. A moment later, the projector materialized a bluish-hued holographic schematic that immediately caught Kruger’s attention.
Her fingers traced the edges of the projection, as if careful not to disrupt it. The structure’s curves and components were a sight to behold.
“The Pal Ouranos! Such an elegant wonder-weapon for a more civilized age, huh?” Kruger exclaimed.
As a “heavy command cruiser,” the term used for the Holy Empire’s flying warship-type relic, this one is certainly more visually pleasing than the Pal Chimera, which resembled nothing more than a horizontal wheel. Its silhouette is reminiscent of a marine predator, possessing a smooth hull with wide, extensive contours and near-perfect symmetry, as well as protruding components near the bow that resemble a fish’s barbels, enhancing the aquatic imagery even further. Utilizing the more advanced anti-gravity magic technology of this timeline, the Pal Ouranos eliminates the need for downward-facing thrusters found on the Pal Chimera, instead utilizing two large rear-facing thrusters for forward propulsion like a Heavenly Vessel and numerous smaller ones throughout the hull to assist with maneuvering.
After hundreds of iterations, the latest design managed to downsize a Brobdingnagian airship—originally a kilometer long and headache-inducing—into a more reasonable 350 to 400-meter size by progressively incorporating pedanium-based components and technologies. While it’s technically possible to construct this design using conventional materials, the outcome would be a mere differently-shaped Pal Chimera with none of the overwhelming advantages envisioned by Meteos.
As the two began tinkering with the data, the outline of the Pal Ouranos shifted, its proportions slimming as he reduced the length further toward 300 meters.
Kruger turned to Meteos.
“Master, you’re secretly making a spaceship, aren’t you?”
The reincarnator regarded the curious Magia’s question with a faint smile without taking his concentration off the schematic.
“Depends on future developments. But for ‘express use,’ the Pal Ouranos’ anti-gravity technology will keep it confined to the atmosphere, unfortunately.”
“So you are definitely making a spaceship.”
“Who wouldn’t want to build one?” Dunning commented from his spot.
Meteos chuckled, zooming in on the schematic to refine the placement of the auxiliary thrusters. The projection shimmered as the details were updated in real-time.
In truth, Kruger’s playful accusation wasn’t entirely wrong. The concept of a true “spaceship” in the known world was still as foreign as the thought of orbiting satellites had once been in primitive civilizations. Most of the technology here remained confined to the planet’s surface, with rockets, satellites, and the vast expanse of space far beyond the current understanding of magic and engineering. Introducing a true spaceship to a world that hadn’t even dreamed of rockets or satellites would sound like a miracle, but for the Holy Empire, it’s just another case of technology leap-frogging (if they deem that it is the nature that matters, not its form).
The galaxy where Ars Goetia is located is in the middle of merging with another, and Meteos wanted to witness the grandeur of this phenomenon with his own eyes. So yes, he wanted to build a spaceship, one capable of teleportation magick like the Malakhs before them. In his view, if their precursors achieved such feats, so could humanity. For Meteos, it was only fitting to honor them by fulfilling the dream they were brutally denied by the Civilization Annihilation Game: exploring the vast expanse of the universe.
“Since my siblings are taking good care of the equipment to be used in the present day, it leaves me with much free time. That’s why I decided to focus more on the future.”
“But Master… don’t you feel dissatisfied?”
“About what?”
“I mean, they inserted themselves into your world and took over what should’ve been yours, aren’t they?”
Meteos turned pensive for a moment before he let out a small, rueful grin.
“Oh, you mean the Second Timeline. I did miss… the idea of it. But not the truth, the weakness.”
“I see… I’m glad you’re taking it well, Master,” Kruger nodded. If her creator wouldn’t let past grievances drag him down, then she would follow his lead.
“Thank you. I’m glad you’re curious, but it’s useless to wallow in it too much, anyway. Now, first things first… we’ll have to find a way to harness Ars Goetia’s unlimited power…”
Is Meteos Roguerider already weary of the events on this planet? Perhaps. Yet as an inventor, his curiosity is unending; he simply manages to stay composed in a way Robin Calvello never could.
❖⟐❖⟐❖
Same day, 18:30 Mid-East Standard Time
Eastern Vallarge Province, Holy Milishial Empire
Located on the leeward side of a mountain range separating Cassandane and Vallarge Provinces in the southeastern Middle Lands lies the Round Table Plateau, a vast, vaguely circular semi-arid desert wasteland referred to by the military as Area B7R.
The Round Table is known for two primary distinctions: its unparalleled wealth in magic stone deposits and its status as a location of a highly classified site under the jurisdiction of both the military and the Ancient Ministry. Despite the extensive mining operations extracting magic stones that power much of the Middle Lands’ arcane infrastructure, some parts of the plateau remain inaccessible, shrouded in secrecy and dotted with warning signs.
That evening, with the setting sun as their background, three black-colored airopters with designs never seen before soared across the desolate rust-colored expanse, heading toward their destination somewhere within the plateau.
The first and largest of the three was a hulking VTOL, seemingly built for heavy transport and long-range deployment. Around 30 meters long, 23 meters wide, and 10 meters tall, it featured main engines mounted in pairs in four nacelles, with one situated on each angular wing and two at the rear and posterior. As it maneuvered, the nacelles articulated independently, thus altering the direction of thrust. Flanking it were its escorts, much smaller airopters in comparison with a pair of gimbal-mounted turbines and a central turbine that exhausts through two vectored nozzles on the aft end of the craft. All were equipped with guns and mysterious pods on their weapon hardpoints.
Uniquely, their cockpit areas were fully enclosed with armored panels, raising questions about how their pilots could see in the absence of glass canopies—or if they were even piloted at all.
Inside the largest aircraft, a prototype transport from the Samekh series codenamed “Pelican,” sat Ace Roguerider, silently occupying a seat behind its pilot and co-pilot, occasionally rubbing his left arm covered by red bandages to hide the Flames of Solemn Penance’s seal. After spending several days recuperating, Adonis coordinated with his superiors at both the Ancient Ministry and the Order of the Ancients to arrange a trip for him. A female pilot in the Task Force Nightraider’s colors was their sole companion on the flight.
However, the question arises—what about the escorting airopters?
As it turned out, they were indeed unmanned.
These “Wasps,” prototype light ground support VTOLs, were equipped with Legionoid Processors, positioning them as part of a group of convertible vehicular golems known as the “LEGION” by their developers. This concept arose from the need to keep up with the absurd advancement rate of the Cauldron Weapons Group, ensuring their cutting-edge technology is combat-ready even while the Holy Empire’s human operators are still in training. Essentially, the Holy Empire saw its drone army as first a stopgap measure, then evolving to augment—not supplant—their organic military. But when compared to the Ancient Sorcerous Empire’s armies, which numbered in actual legions, even some still believe that this is hopelessly insufficient.
As for the manned Pelican, the pilot’s ability to see in the absence of a traditional glass canopy is facilitated by exterior cameras that transmit images onto screens inside the cockpit. But even then, the Pelican’s pilot herself is actually an AI.
Adonis and Ace’s brief detour to the Cauldron resulted in Rei, Xyston Magia F-type #4. Like Kruger who came before her, she sported short white hair, but surprisingly her similarities with her sister ended there. In addition to her own distinct appearance which was a figure of much attraction, she has tanned skin and striking red eyes. Even though she was online just several days ago, Rei handled the Pelican’s controls as if she had been piloting it her entire life.
…………
After arriving at the site and the three airopters conducted a successful landing, Adonis turned to Rei with an impressed look on his face.
“All things considered, that was a smooth operation,” he remarked, rising from his seat to retrieve his baggage before exiting the Pelican.
The Magia’s neutral gaze followed him as he disappeared behind the cockpit’s sliding doors.
“…It’s to be expected of me,” Rei replied calmly.
From behind her, Ace stood up and gave her shoulder a light pat. “It’s called courtesy, Rei. Now come on,” he quipped, stretching slightly before rummaging through a side compartment.
“Acknowledged. I will keep that in mind, Masters.”
The trio adhered to protocol, covering their faces before stepping onto the landing pad. However, unlike Ace, who opted for a simple hooded long coat and mask, and Rei, clad in the full gear of her Nightraider equipment, Adonis’ disguised persona stood out. His attire mirrored the elaborate style of the Order’s Magisters, featuring a red-and-white mask with a horizontal black visor concealing his face as well as a predominantly black and red hooded robe layered beneath a set of armor, adding to his imposing presence.
Coming to the landing pad to greet the arrivals was a small group of masked men. The leader, who was a bit shorter than the rest, stepped forward and raised a gloved hand, hailing them. Adonis’ response to that was to simply stride over with a confident gait, flanked by his brother shouldering something resembling a drawing tube and the Nightraider brandishing a Longsword rifle in her hand.
“What was first just a dream has become a frightening reality… for those who may oppose us,” he declared. “Supervisor, I salute you.”
The group bowed in response.
“Thank you, Lord Revan. Welcome to Site B7R, we have been expecting your arrival.”
Gesturing to the brother, Revan continued. “This is Belial, my right-hand man and the operator. With him, we shall begin the construction as per the plan. As for the exact timeframe, it is up to you. You may begin when ready.”
“You honor me, Your Excellency. The sooner we begin, the better.”
Being here on business, Revan saw no problem with the schedule. Thus, with the supervisor’s optimistic but vague sentence, he interpreted it as a confirmation to proceed without delay.
“Very well, then. I would like to inspect the location. Right away.”
“…Yes. This way, please.”
…………
Moving to a plot of land strewn with mounds of assorted construction materials fifteen kilometers north of the base, the entourage observed as Belial retrieved a translucent green rod from his tube, planted it in the ground, and fitted a ring-shaped Manadriver atop the remaining upper tenth of the rod, positioning it securely so that the device was perfectly aligned. Then, turning to face the assembled group sitting nearby on makeshift benches bent from nearby soil, he started to provide an explanation of what was to come.
“This assembly is the Spire, which consists of two components: the first is a battery constructed from pedanium that will serve as the primary axis around which this entire installation will be constructed. The second one, the Manadriver component, contains the schematic of the facility. Once activated, the Manadriver will draw energy from the Spire and raw materials from the surrounding area. With these resources, it will generate a base structure.”
Belial paused to ensure his audience was following before he continued.
“…The initial result will be a simple circular platform equipped with a central control panel which will serve as the nerve center for further construction. From there, we will progressively feed the system more mana and raw materials. These are the key components, so as long as you have them, each update to the design will prompt the installation to evolve, so you can liken it to ‘growing’ the installation into completion. And the process will be done… seamlessly. Likewise, when the facility is damaged, you can easily repair it by having the facility regenerate the damaged parts.”
The supervisor could be seen nodding in awe. After all, this is the largest magic stone mine in the known world. There would be an abundance of raw materials to proceed with the plan. But ‘growing’ a building? Who would’ve thought he would hear or use that kind of phrase?
“Your Excellency, I am certain that this method will accelerate the construction time, but that still doesn’t change the fact that the requirement in materials will be immense.”
“Correct. This is why B7R, which is also a secure place in the heart of this country, is chosen as the perfect place to build this Borer Installation. Once it is complete you will not have to worry about such concerns anymore.”
“Indeed. I can’t wait to see the results.”
Revan gestured with his hand to Belial, signaling that it was time to begin.
After Belial operated the Manadriver for a moment, the rod started to glow brighter and brighter, casting an eerie but mesmerizing light across the barren landscape. Then, with a sudden pulse, the Spire released a surge of energy, and the circular platform began to emerge from the ground.
Faced with a magical problem, they devised a magical solution. Since the previous year, the White Lotus has been brainstorming ways to tap into the Hollow Planet Region. Rather than building a traditional drill, they decided to develop the Cauldron technology further to create the Spire. This would be used to construct an installation called the “Borer,” which, when activated, would fire an “Overhaul Beam” to penetrate 50 kilometers underground in Area B7R. Then, as raw mana surged upward through the hole, it would be used to reinforce the shaft and then channeled to further upgrade the Borer. And that’s when they will have it: Ars Goetia’s unlimited power.
‘Here we go, Meteos…’
Metal plates formed in rapid succession expanding outward from the core. The once barren land now seemed to pulse with life, as though the installation was awakening from some deep slumber.