January 3, 1617 Central Calendar
Tranquila District, Runepolis, Holy Milishial Empire
Among the many business establishments in the district that cater mostly to the youthful demographic of the Student Town, there is a newcomer that stands out as particularly intriguing. If not for the bright sign at the entrance, this store looked no different from a small minimalist restaurant. While it peddles warm meals suited for the winter months to both students and workers, an offering typical of many stores, what truly sets this place apart for this era is what it sells.
A man riding a certain white-and-gold autobike pulled up to this particular store just after sundown, entering with his helmet still on while casting a curious glance at its small but eye-catching storefront.
Inside, people already packed the admittedly cozy space. Among them were the familiar faces of three blonde and one brunette high school students from abroad who chatted and laughed over their steaming bowls. However, the new arrival chose not to acknowledge them, and the group likely didn't recognize him due to the dark visor of his helmet.
A dark-haired girl manning the counter greeted the helmeted man with a friendly smile that seemed to light up her entire face.
"Hello and welcome! Will you be dining in or taking it out tonight?" she asked.
"For takeout. Double original fried with egg topping."
"Alright, coming right up!"
After a few minutes of waiting, the girl returned to the counter with the man's order. She smiled again as she handed over the neatly packed takeout.
"Here you go. Double original fried noodles with egg topping, enjoy your meal, sir!" she said cheerfully, as if she had repeated the line countless times, given the store's apparent popularity.
"Thanks."
"May the Goddess bless your night!"
"Oh, which Goddess?" the helmeted man blurted innocently.
"Eh? W-what?"
"…"
The girl blinked in surprise at the sudden question. Her smile faltered, and for a split second, she was at a loss for words. Her brow furrowed as she tried to piece things together, and an awkward silence filled the space between them. She could feel the heat of her cheeks rising, both from confusion and a touch of embarrassment.
"Uh… well, um…" she stammered, her mind racing to recall something. "Which…? I mean, there's… isn't there only the Goddess… right…?"
While the girl's voice trailed off and she seemed to be clearly confused for some reason, the man quickly raised his hand in a placating gesture. "Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to make things awkward. Thanks again for the food."
Without waiting for a reply, the man quickly paid, turned on his heel, and walked briskly toward the door. Moments later, he sped off on his autobike, disappearing into the urban sprawl of the Sleepless Magical City.
"What does that even mean…? Eh, weird customer," the girl wondered for a moment, shaking her head in bemusement as she returned to her work.
…………
A type of food called 'instant noodles' wasn't meant to exist in this world until decades from now, when it emerged in a possible future timeline when the battlefront of the World War against the Gra Valkas Empire began to shift to the west. While the people of the Middle Lands had long been familiar with noodles as a centuries-old cuisine, the idea of creating an instant version that could be prepared in just two minutes with boiling water only arose after it was introduced by a certain country that appeared in the Far East and the Holy Milishial Empire started producing their own version of instant noodles.
"But here I am, eating a menu based on one already…"
Still in the Tranquila District, Legiel Roguerider sat on a park bench under the chilly night sky, savoring his takeout double original fried noodles with gusto while muttering to himself. His autobike was parked nearby as he enjoyed the warm, flavorful meal.
While Meteos was busy developing magical technology for military applications, Legiel, being the caring older brother he was, took it upon himself to handle the civilian aspects that his younger brother might not have time for. He invented the process of mechanically curving noodles into a wavy shape, eventually leading to the invention of instant noodles. The Brigid Company, the Roguerider Foundation's food and beverage subsidiary, soon introduced instant noodles as one of its initial products. Thanks to its novelty, the Foundation's relentless marketing efforts, and a variety of flavors created by the creative employees at Brigid's instant noodle division, their instant noodles gained immense popularity across the known world.
Several years after the introduction of instant noodles, an entirely new culinary phenomenon began to emerge across the bustling streets and alleyways of Runepolis. Small, cozy establishments, often found near busy marketplaces or along well-trodden roads, began serving quick, affordable meals centered around instant noodles. At first, these stalls offered simple combinations of steaming bowls of rehydrated noodles topped with sliced meats, vegetables, and a dash of sauce or broth. However, it wasn't long before the creativity of their operators elevated the humble instant noodle to an art form. Each establishment developed its own distinct menu, featuring toppings ranging from locally sourced herbs and spices to innovative combinations of cheese, eggs, and even fried seafood.
The reason they proliferated so quickly may or may not be because of the Foundation's marketing strategy, which they proceeded to replicate with their energy drink product…
"As it turned out, the Holy Milishial Empire in this timeline ends up advancing far more quickly due to the presence of an equivalent of six Meteos Rogueriders… at the cost of the older siblings' achievements overshadowing the young. Heh, Milishial undefeated forever after… what a selfish ambition. You got what you wanted, but guess things went horribly right for you, huh, Little Brother?"
As the saying goes, "Be careful of what you wish for."
Sure, no one in this Third Timeline stands a chance of decisively defeating the August Star of Heaven at this point, but Meteos has to share the glory with others, even if they are his own 'family.'
The reincarnator might be dissatisfied except for one thing that managed to downplay it all: the emotional root of his motivation to advance the Holy Empire as much as possible is Envy, not Greed. As long as he can help create a world where the Holy Empire can take on the ultimate enemy without pathetically relying on conveniently appearing overpowered civilizations, he considers it an ideal world. Somehow, this drive makes him both selfish and selfless at the same time.
But this is not actually Meteos' fault. He merely capitalized on the opportunity presented to him by the recklessness of Amatsu-Mikaboshi, the Star God with No Home. Therefore, Legiel won't act too harshly toward Meteos. It's like overlooking the mischief of a cute pet – you can't be too mad when they're just playing.
"Ah, my adorable Little Brother," Legiel gushed, a wry smile starting to spread across his lips. "Thanks to you, the world is healing… And even Amatsu-Mikaboshi arguably got what he wanted, somehow."
The restoration of Astarte's divinity.
When the Ravernal Empire appeared in this world, they drove many native species of Ars Goetia to extinction, including the sentient beings devoted to the planet's indigenous pantheon. Seeking to supplant the deities, the Light-Winged People not only sought to remove them from the hearts of the creations but to erase them from existence entirely. In their wake, the gods' original creations were obliterated, their temples razed, and their faithful slaughtered, leaving nothing but atomic dust.
This makes it supremely ironic that their own creations now find faith in native gods and worship them in the present day like they always belonged to Ars Goetia.
The native gods, however, were not moved by this resurgence of faith. To them, the Five Peoples as invasive species just like their creators were an insult born from the Devils' handiwork. Seething at the thought of being worshipped by creatures linked to their hateful enemy, the gods embraced Pestilence's Civilization Annihilation Game without hesitation. With disgust burning in their essence, they offered up the Ravernal Empire's creations as sacrificial pawns in a game they were doomed to lose without hesitation. To them, this was justice. It was the ultimate rejection of the Ravernal Empire's legacy and a punishment befitting their arrogance. But that's where they also doomed themselves for being so spiteful.
However, unlike those idiots who cannot see past the deception and blindly jump onto the Game's bandwagon only to end up as little more than drug-addled husks, Astarte was different. She saw fragile sparks of life trying to endure in a world that had betrayed them, and instead of consigning them to destruction, she embraced them and cared for their well-being, becoming some sort of adopted deity for these people.
HOWEVER!
Astarte's boundless compassion and kindness do little to help Pestilence in his argument against his brother—that everyone is destined to cause destruction again and again due to their inherent evil and the fastest and most efficient way to achieve happiness is to outright destroy them all. Because someone like her is an inconvenience to the narrative, Astarte is therefore unrealistic.
No one could possibly be that selfless; she must have some hidden agenda. And because she is such a manipulative schemer who toyed with the hearts of mortals, she deserved a comeuppance and the harshest punishment. Thus, he forcibly placed the result before the cause, and the Civilization Annihilation Game punished Astarte for the crimes she didn't even do and cleverly used her as an asset to further validate Pestilence's claim. Besides, the Game's Audience didn't seem to give a fuck about her backstory, which is probably why her torture session's rating is an all-time high.
Now that is justice.
That is realism.
Amatsu-Mikaboshi then came out of nowhere and interfered with the progress to fulfill his own selfish ambitions. Even though he's kind of brash and impulsive, Pestilence has to admit that he has the balls to become the first and only deity to ever rebel against the Game. Although the creation of the Third Timeline dealt him a significant setback, he ultimately achieved one of his stated goals. Gradually, Astarte's divine essence began to heal, and people here and there started to speak her name. In contrast, the other gods who sold humanity had already faded from Ars Goetia's collective memory. As far as everyone is concerned, there is only "the Goddess," maybe.
What Goddess? Maybe they will find out eventually if this trend continues.
Amidst his rumination, Legiel finished his noodles with a satisfied sigh, wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand as he glanced at the empty takeout container that he proceeded to Overhaul into oxygen so that he wouldn't have to walk to a trash bin. Watching it disintegrate, Legiel let out a groan.
"Aaaah! …Eldest Brother… this whole thing is so inefficient…" he lamented. Couldn't things ever just get to the point?
But Death won't be pleased if he does that, and because Pestilence loves his brother more than anything, that's why he has to be convinced first. Hence, this very roundabout way of tempting everyone to self-destruct to prove his point.
Instead of anger, Legiel found himself more exasperated and motivated at the thrilling challenge. If Meteos Roguerider and Amatsu-Mikaboshi could so easily chase their own desires, what was stopping him from achieving his own? They had driven themselves forward with unwavering determination. Meteos, with his ambition for an ideal world, and Amatsu-Mikaboshi, ever striving to restore Astarte's divinity for reasons only he could justify, had both used selfish motivations to achieve their ends. Is the Temple of Heaven not an example of reversing cause and effect too? That's what Pestilence thought.
If these two examples can soldier on and achieve so much even though there's no future for them thanks to their selfishness, so too Pestilence who aims for love, justice, and happiness. He will never give up.
See? To whom it may concern, Pestilence isn't just some random flat character who destroys everything just for laughs, simply because he's one of the Four Horsemen. He has depth!
"Hmm. If they could do it, so could I, right? For starters—"
Legiel pulled out his grimoire and tapped against the touchscreen to speed dial Ace's number. A few rings echoed in his ear before his younger brother picked up.
"Hello, Younger Brother. I'm assigning you the next Minus Energy extermination quest. If you have an appointment or date scheduled for the weekend after this one, cancel them… Unless, you want the next morning headline to show an entire orphanage slaughtered to the last child by a monster only you can prevent. I trust you know what's the right thing to do."
Without letting the man on the other end a chance to retort, Legiel spoke in a calm, almost indifferent tone, quickly conveying his intentions and abruptly ending the call. Then, as soon as he simply tightened his grip on the hand holding the grimoire, the highly advanced smartphone crafted from the planet's strongest substance that is pedanium disintegrated instantly into dust that faintly glimmered as the wind brought it to parts unknown.
----------------------------------------
January 9, 1617 Central Calendar
Area 01 – Hill of the Crying Moon
San Redentore District
As of late, a seldom-used outdoor space somewhere on the Hill of the Crying Moon complex was taken over by masked members of a certain division within the MOASEC's "Secret Department," who seem to be tirelessly conducting one test after another, as though they had finally discovered something that could make use of the special facility provided to them by their superiors.
In the center of the clearing stood a new 120 mm artillery piece with a barrel of 6,6 meters long, trained on a vertical armor plate made of homogenous pedanium forged in the Cauldron, the now-dubbed "Shield of Eternity" by engineers who had tried and failed to crack it with both conventional and prototype weaponry. Devoid of any paint to mask its natural color, the pedanium plate looked somewhat like a comically thick green-tinted glass from a distance.
…They could've simply named it "Pedanium Plate," but what is the Holy Milishial Empire if not for their penchant for being dramatic when they're allowed to do so.
Unlike the older magical artillery of the Holy Empire, which relied on bulky external mana tanks connected by a tangle of cables to provide the energy for firing, this particular gun was part of a new generation that operated differently, further honed into perfection by the engineers. The absence of such a cable port gave the new artillery an almost alien sleekness and better mobility. Instead, an energy cell the size of a briefcase was neatly slotted into a reinforced housing near the breech. Emitting a faint glow, the cell held enough power to fire multiple shots before requiring replacement. It fed energy directly into the pedanium-based Manadriver components integrated into this prototype: the MR Gigaredoublizer as a fire control system and the MR Desire Absoluter, the spell launcher device taking the form of adamantite rails inside the barrel.
The decision not to use a single pedanium for any other part besides the energy cell and the Manadriver components was also part of the testing up to this point, by the way.
Standing beside the artillery piece, an operator holding a clipboard called out in a monotone.
"Primary systems check complete."
"Energy cell, no abnormalities."
"Gigaredoublizer, no abnormalities!"
"Desire Absoluter, no abnormalities."
"Device primed… Targeting alignment, confirmed. Gun, ready to fire!"
Each announcement was repeated by the crew as they checked their instruments and controls. Nearby, another crew member knelt by a reinforced console, closely tracking the live energy readings from the cell. The cannon emitted a faint whine, barely audible at first, which grew louder as its systems stirred to life from a complete shutdown. Normally, a crew member would call out the percentage of mana being channeled into the system as the cannon powered up, but that slow process was a relic of older, outdated cannons.
The gunner gripped the controls and called out with finality: "Firing in three… two… one… Fire!"
The sound of the discharge was a mix between a "WHUMP!" …a deep resonant thud, and a crack of thunder that shook the ground beneath their feet. The air shimmered violently as the projectile erupted from the barrel at unfathomable speed, without the typical colored trails, and flew in a straight line toward the center of the pedanium plate. The recoil of the gun was absorbed into its frame with a hiss of pneumatics, allowing the artillery piece to settle back into its pre-fired stance with surprising grace.
And… impact.
The projectile loudly met its target. Dust and vaporized residue exploded into the air along with the shockwave, temporarily obscuring the plate. The clearing fell silent, and no one moved for several seconds. All eyes were fixed on the plate, waiting for signs of damage to appear. As the dust cloud began to dissipate, a report from the crew manning the monitor echoed, prompting the crowd to erupt in hushes.
"Target integrity… unchanged! The plate remains intact!"
"…"
"…YEEEEAAAH!"
One of the masked people shouted in delight. While they may have their own expectations, the fact that everyone else was busy whispering to each other made that one crew's outburst stand out from the crowd.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
As the haze finally cleared, the so-called Shield of Eternity stood completely unscathed. Its surface remained smugly pristine, smooth, and undisturbed. Not a crack, dent, or even scorch mark visible. In sharp contrast, the projectile had been utterly annihilated, reduced to little more than fragments after its violent collision with the target.
"Bwoah."
"Again?" one engineer blurted out.
"Hmm, so not even a penetrator dart made of depleted uranium at such an obscene velocity can crack the armor plate…"
"Then this result is still within the expected parameters. That is, the verification of the armor's capabilities."
"Good job, everyone."
Another crew member shook his head. Despite the 55-caliber 120 mm Spirit Evo magic cannon being a cutting-edge prototype as well, designed as the main armament for a future einherjar, the Shield's fantastical super-durability seemed to completely outshine it.
"This is the last of the tested ammunition types, right? Unbelievable… first, the shaped charge. Not even a scorch mark. Then squash head projectiles—and that didn't even register as an impact. Even the penetrator darts made from tungsten, adamantite, and orichalcum, all failed and were pulverized into dust as if they're made of brittle glass…"
"And now depleted uranium…" the engineer from earlier snorted. "Even though the ammunition types are highly successful against various types of armor we can conceive, it seems that our dear inventor of those ammunition types really went ahead with a countermeasure already."
"Really? That's just a slab of ordinary pedanium."
"Pedanium itself is anything but ordinary, dumbass! It IS the countermeasure!" yet another engineer retorted fiercely.
As far as everyone else in the Holy Milishial Empire is concerned, pedanium is a synthetic element not found on this planet, being an actually alien material from their own creators' ancestors' home world, a long-murdered planet in another plane of existence.
Because of Amatsu-Mikaboshi and Meteos Roguerider, however, Attarsamain's 'spirit' has been successfully passed down to the future. The Malakhs' failures helped to become the foundation of the success these poor people experience today so they don't have to taste its bitter pill again.
Well, those two are sure good at meddling.
Classic "passing the torch" trope—but it's cringe, really. Not to mention it gives a faction of side characters who were supposed to be annoyingly smug but can't back their words and are humiliated by the main characters' unfair advantages an important key to becoming powerful beyond belief. They're already breaking canon—but screw canon, right? It's just military pornographic fantasy and maliciously incompetent governments and idiots screaming "That's impossible!" probably.
"Now, now, don't be sarcastic like that, you jaded son of a gun. On the bright side, at least we've found a material that's impervious to anything we've thrown at it just by being itself. It's just that the pedanium production rate is still low. But if we can mass-produce Shields of Eternity and use them on our weapons, we've just taken a giant leap forward in armor technology," one of the masked engineers remarked optimistically.
"He's got a point. One slab of armor doesn't win a war."
"Yeah, especially against the Ancient Sorcerous Empire…"
"No, you're getting ahead of yourselves. We've yet to test the Shield using ammunition made of pedanium. Not to mention… what do you think will happen if we can miniaturize the transmutation spell as used in the Cauldron and put them on artillery shells?"
"Pedanium itself is a very potent magical substance, they can command an armor plate made of it to defeat an incoming projectile in a myriad of ways other than relying on its strength alone."
"This is going to be an arms race between the spear and the shield, huh…"
The unstoppable force meets the immovable object. As the ammunition division devises countermeasures against the seemingly invincible pedanium armor, the armor division, in turn, creates counter-countermeasures. This dynamic sets the stage for an aptly named arms race between the two.
"But we obtained a lot of data from both the gun and the armor, that should count as blessings, right?" the optimistic engineer chimed in again.
"Uh, yeah, sure. Let's go with that."
'What's with this guy? Did he sleep good last night?'
A few murmurs followed. Testing had already taken its toll on the day, and the mood was a mixture of various emotions. Despite the apparent invulnerability of the Shield of Eternity, their work wasn't finished, and the testing run proceeded to continue for the rest of the day.
Largely unnoticed by the majority of the group, two crew members had quietly made their way out of the testing range.
…………
"Hey, Mephisto."
"What?"
The two crew members who left the ongoing Gun versus Armor experiments were now making their way down the corridor, venturing further into the secret facility buried beneath the hill. When one of them called out the other, the individual with the codename Mephisto turned to catch a glimpse of the caller's masked visage.
Beneath the codenames, they were Ashera Roguerider and Emre Senturya—Mephisto and Aym to the world of shadows they operated in.
"Just now, I was thinking of the Galberos… do you think the Imperial Guard will be the first to receive them just like how the Imperial Guard Fleet is slated to operate those high-tech ships first?"
Mephisto hummed and playfully tilted her head.
"Well, they can, if the higher-ups really want to. But if we're talking about necessity, then there's no pressing need. The reason the Imperial Guard Fleet is receiving that kind of treatment is because they're half showpiece, half legitimate military assets, and warships are kind of harder to hide from the enemy's eyes compared to smaller ground vehicles, don't you think so?"
"I see, but if we're being real here, politics might end up giving them the same treatment—or at least among the earliest to receive those shiny new einherjars."
"If you're just going to circle back to that conclusion, why even ask? Do you think I'd somehow make you believe otherwise?"
"Ugh! I… don't know," Aym threw his hands up.
Just then, the corridor opened up, revealing a spacious garage illuminated by a gentle light. As Mephisto and Aym passed by, letting the crewmen inside work on their busy jobs, they continued to talk to themselves and walked off to another corridor.
"Ah, speak of the Galberos, there they are…"
"Man, they're so good-looking."
"Maybe because they look somewhat futuristic, even if the design philosophy is still the same."
Among the parked vehicles stood several with the distinct silhouette of the Galberos, prototype tracked armored fighting vehicles featuring a turret with heavily sloped armor and an imposing gun jutting out of it. Nearby were several Pattern 15 Bizorms, which appeared smaller in comparison. The similarities in design between the two models made it evident that the Galberos discussed earlier had been developed by the MOASEC as the next-generation einherjars, the term given by the Holy Milishial Empire to refer to "main battle tanks."
Aym pondered. "Hey, Mephisto, another question. If they were to be created the 'normal' way, as in without the Cauldrons' help, how many years will the Galberos be a technological leap from the Bizorm?"
"Maybe four decades," Mephisto quickly answered. "If we're speaking about that Pedanium Galberos, maybe three and half centuries, assuming people even thought about inventing pedanium at all."
"Oh… How so?"
"I made it the fuck up, that's how!"
As the masked young woman suddenly cackled at her answer, Aym lightly elbowed her in the side while a few of the nearby crewmen started to look at them weirdly.
However, even though he had no way of knowing the accurate answer to his own question, the fact remained about the Cauldron Weapons Group's potency. Simulated battles involving the Galberos against replicated Annonrial einherjars also showed mostly favorable outcomes, especially when the Pedanium Galberos joined the fray.
"So, since the day is still long. Where are we heading next?"
"We're going to visit the Golem Division," Mephisto said. "Ah…! I almost forgot that division even existed."
Mephisto slapped her mask on the forehead, causing her companion to let out a chortle.
"Don't be like that."
"To be fair, they almost never make progress. It's no surprise people forget about them," Mephisto shrugged.
"No, I think it's just you," Aym retorted.
They continued walking through the corridor, passing a few busy workers before they arrived at the entrance to their destination. Two Nightraiders stood guard, but after a brief security check, they cleared the two to pass.
"Woooooooo…"
"Mephisto, what are you doing? Come, don't stand there like a lost child."
And thus, Mephisto and Aym entered the Golem Division, the section of Area 01 dedicated to the development of animated anthropomorphic magical constructs known as golems. The division's workplace was divided into two primary sections, with the pair opting to first see the section located to the left of the main corridor where several rooms could be seen through the thick reinforced windows.
The interior of the first room they observed appeared modest at first glance, but it quickly became clear that it was far from ordinary. Though the décor was unassuming, the advanced technology within made the room feel like something out of a science fiction novel. In the center stood a bed-like platform, with a black-and-gray humanoid figure made of metal strapped to it. The figure was incomplete, with significant parts missing, and its exposed wires and mechanical components were being carefully examined by a team of researchers working around it.
"That must be one of the Object 343s!"
"A Sentry Golem, huh."
Golem magic, as it was traditionally known, had long been a part of magical history. The art of creating golems was an ancient practice where they were said to be crafted from clay or stone and imbued with magic to serve as guardians, workers, or protectors. These golems were typically created by mages who would infuse their creations with life through powerful enchantments. They lacked true consciousness but were capable of following commands and performing specific tasks, often through simple directives.
The MOASEC crew, living in the modern Holy Milishial Empire where spellcasting increasingly resembles computer programming, gradually uncovered the workings of their excavated Ravernal robots and began referring to them as "golems" because of the similarities they observed.
Like the bioweapons they created, the Ravernal Empire once used mass-produced drones to flood the world, no matter how much damage they took. However, it's still curious how they went to the effort of creating these differing weapons systems in parallel, especially when they largely serve the same function. The answer may lie in the long-extinct species they faced in their wars of the Second Epoch.
In any case, the people here are learning how they fight so that they can better counter them.
A few rooms down the hall, Mephisto and Aym could see similar figures being worked on, each at different stages of degradation. Some were little more than frames, their limbs and torsos devoid of anything resembling skin or armor. Others were much further along with being more humanoid in appearance, though still far from the finished product.
"Hey, Aym, let's see this division's Cauldron Weapons Group working team! I'm curious about how they work on their share," Mephisto quipped after a while observing the crew working on the excavated relics.
"Hm? Oh, alright… so much for almost forgetting this place even existed."
Aym trailed his partner to a room at the far back where there was a spectacle that truly captured their attention. This time, a drastically different-looking golem stood fully assembled and looked ready to be activated, a stark contrast to the unfinished figures in the other rooms. It was encased in black and white armor plates, with an angular, vaguely bird-like helmet featuring a narrow, unlit V-shaped visor across its face and two slender antennae-like crests extending backward. The engineers moved around the figure, adjusting connections and operating noticeably sophisticated control panels to run diagnostics.
Mephisto grinned under her mask. "Now this is what I'm talking about. Since the facility inside this room and the golem itself are forged in the Cauldron, of course they're going to be in better condition than the rest."
"Mephisto, you're acting like a child in a candy store," Aym commented.
"Why shouldn't I? This stuff is way more interesting than the dull bureaucracy. But…" she paused dramatically. "I think I've seen enough of the work here. They're my designs, after all."
"Bored?"
"Exactly!"
Mephisto spun on her heel with that declaration, prompting an amused Aym to follow her once again.
"You're unbelievable…"
"Now, let's head to the other side and check out the big boys."
"Aye, aye."
They exited the left wing of the Golem Division and made their way across the main corridor. The atmosphere subtly shifted as they entered the section dedicated to larger constructs. A livelier place resembling a factory, the ambient hum of powerful machinery resonated through the air, and the occasional clang of metal echoed in the distance.
The pair eventually arrived at an enormous reinforced hangar-like space. Here, the scale of the golems dwarfed everything they had seen so far. Towering constructs stood in various stages of assembly, their 5-meter frames supported by scaffolding and suspended by massive cranes. Engineers buzzing around the area occasionally greeted the two agents as they passed by.
"You know, I can understand having a golem army the size of humans to supplement their troops, but… why do you think the Ancient Sorcerous Empire bothered with these giants when they also had the concept of armored vehicles like einherjars? They are tall enough to be a walking target."
Aym crossed his arms as he gazed up at one of the towering machines looming before them. Their intricate designs exuded a sense of awe and power. However, his mind couldn't help but latch onto something about the Ravernal Empire's military doctrine.
"That's a good question. The more we analyze the relics, the more their military doctrine feels scatterbrained. It's like they tried to cover every possible scenario, even if it meant overlapping functions. It's all over the place. But we already have an idea why efficiency wasn't a priority for them: their mass-production system at their core territory was so good that they could churn out equipment almost without restraint. There's a reason they just overwhelmed the world with numbers the way they did, you know."
Mephisto continued, knowing full well that the reason the Ravernal Empire was this confusing was none other than her younger brother, Pestilence. It's as simple as that.
"Well, there is one theory. You know how some ancient Datapoints mention vast underground spaces deep beneath the surface? These armored golems might've been designed to fight whatever horrors lurking down there back in the day."
"If that's the case, then they must have been built with fast-paced three-dimensional combat in mind, with the condition that it's an environment where conventional aircraft are deemed too risky to enter and terrain too extreme for conventional armored vehicles. Likely subterranean vertical spaces with platforms."
"What a rather conditional weapon system. Maybe they're also used for mining."
They've also found that these armored golems—whether manned or unmanned—had the ability to hover and maneuver, making movement by climbing walls and leaping wide gaps came to mind. The deep underground terrain that these armored golems were likely designed to fight in is highly likely to be filled with sturdy magic stones as mana from the hollow planet flowed out and crystallized. But when used to fight on the surface? They'd still have glaring weaknesses. Their height makes them easy targets for long-range fire, and their weight would limit them in softer terrains in the absence of terrain-manipulating magic. Not to mention targeting their joints can cripple them.
Except if said joints are made of pedanium, then might as well forget about attacking them with anything, really.
Mephisto beamed. "Still, it's a good thing we're learning from these artifacts. Better to understand their strengths and weaknesses now than in the middle of a fight. I'm actually looking forward to the program's results!"
Although the Ministry of Ancient Sorcerous Empire Countermeasures can be consulted on such matters, it is no longer their concern whether the military adopts the technologies they discover, especially in this era where the Ministry is no longer financially constrained and pressured to deliver immediate results for military use.
With this increased freedom, the MOASEC Secret Department initiated a serious reverse-engineering project for Ancient golem technology, dubbed the Prospective Frontline Fighter (PFF). The project was divided into three segments: the Light PFF, focusing on human-sized drones with a high potential for military adoption, and the Heavy PFF and Heavy Autonomous PFF for manned and unmanned 10-meter golems, respectively. Eventually, the LPFF was given the codename Legionoid, while the H(A)PFF was designated as the Imperializer.
Only time will reveal if the fruits of this project will be put into use.
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January 11, 1617 Central Calendar, 06:30
Great Sumter River, Arden District
Meteos let out a sigh watching Walman's back as the brunette boy hurriedly excused himself and went to answer the incoming nature's call. Left alone in the empty waiting lounge, he made his way outside and stepped onto the pier, where a lone Boudica 213 flying boat bearing the MOASEC's white and orange markings could be seen.
"Little Brother…!"
"Oh dear," Meteos murmured in reflex.
Turning sharply, he was greeted by the sight of Legiel appearing out of nowhere with an air of casual nonchalance. The implications behind the setting up of the coincidence of Walman leaving just as Legiel showed up left him feeling both puzzled and repulsed.
"You…" Meteos bit back a retort that formed on his tongue. Instead, he squared his shoulders and met Legiel's gaze as he cringed and eyed the Horseman with a hint of disgust. "What do you want?"
Legiel smiled faintly. "It's going to be a long flight to Otaheit, so I came to see you off and hand you these."
The older white-haired man pulled two items from his coat pockets, one in each hand. One was a Datapoint, while the other was a recognizable molten orange trinket with a black base, featuring a single autobike handle protruding from it.
"Boost Buckle…"
Meteos glanced at Legiel, who was still wearing that infuriatingly calm smile, and his thoughts flitted to the possible future events that awaited them in Mu. However…
"…Give it to Ace, not me," he said. He was reluctant to even touch the item, let alone use it for his benefit when Ace was the one who needed it the most. The mere thought of it made his skin crawl.
"You look uncomfortable, that's a good thing," Legiel mused. "But it will help you to be prepared, Little Brother. If you want to give it to Amatsu-Mikaboshi later, be my guest, but for now, trust in his power."
That's a veiled threat. It has to be.
Without a word, he reached out and took both items from Legiel's hand.
"So, while trouble is starting to stir in Mu, you're going to step in and use your abilities to shut it down before it can even escalate. No dramatic conflicts, no heroes rising up, no interesting plot threads. Talk about ending things anticlimactically."
"Good."
More often than not, heroes are defined by the tragedies they've lived through – to some, a "hero" is someone who hides their pain behind a stoic front of justice, and is willing to sacrifice one to save ten. However, what would happen will be yet another forcibly engineered tragedy as demanded by the Civilization Annihilation Game, making the rise and legend of such heroes serve no meaning—even worse, a tale of ignorance.
A Second Mu Civil War will almost certainly be even more savage than the first, but if these tragedies can be avoided, there will be no need for such a grueling event to impact the lives of many people. Therefore, with this quest, Meteos Roguerider is going to do everything in his power to prevent the rise of "heroes" in Mu.
"…Very well, Little Brother. I won't trouble you further. Since you've accepted the gift, I shall take my leave."
Legiel nodded and stepped back, willing a storm cloud to appear in the shape of a rippling portal. As he stepped through the rift, he vanished into the tempestuous expanse that swallowed him whole. The clouds then dissipated almost as quickly as they had appeared, leaving Meteos standing there, once again alone.
"Teleportation… how many misfortunes could be prevented if things were in the right place at the right time?"
At that moment, yet another arrival decided to announce themselves.
"Meteos! Heey~!"
"Huh?"
This time, two girls jogged up to him from the waiting lounge, waving eagerly. Behind them was the Pendragon family butler, a stoic figure who always seemed to hover around, looking out for his charges in his usual calm and professional manner.
Meteos' tense shoulders relaxed right then and there. Somehow, seeing their faces makes the reincarnator feel all his burdens melt away, no matter how much a terror Pestilence inflicts upon him.
"Nadia and Annette…" Meteos called out with raised eyebrows, pleasantly surprised. "Did you come to see us off, just before school?"
The young silver-haired noblewoman gave him a pointed look, while his girlfriend nodded and smiled warmly at him.
"Anna thought we might catch you before you depart. I'm glad we made it."
"…And Nadia wanted to come see you off since you seem to start heading off on business trips."
Meteos chuckled softly. "Thank you, for coming to see us off."
As Meteos exchanged words with Nadia and Annette, Walman returned. Spotting the two girls, a grin crept to his face. The four of them took a moment to exchange proper farewells.
"Well, well, good morning to you two, Lady Pendragon, Nadia."
"Ah, Walman. Charming as always," Annette amusedly remarked.
"We wanted to see you both off," Nadia added. "You two, take care, all right? I hope the trip is a pleasant one."
"Of course. We'll do our best," Meteos replied.
"Ah… Nadia is going to miss you."
"Anna…"
Meteos stood there for a moment, watching as they turned to Walman. For a fleeting moment, those words made him wonder if there was more he could say or do before departing.
"…"
Just after sensing that they were finished, Meteos wordlessly moved closer and wrapped the two in a quick, firm hug.
"Take care of yourselves too… I love you guys."
Meteos quickly released them, stepping back with a nod. A faint blush adorned their own smiles as they returned his gesture.
"Time to board."
As they turned and headed to the flying boat, Walman, who had observed the scene silently, stepped up and gave him a pat on the shoulder.
"Not a word."
"Alright, alright… I can read the room," the brunette replied coyly, clearly teasing him.
The sound of the hatch sealing shut marked the end of the moment, as the engines roared to life, carrying the MOASEC team toward their next destination.