Volume 2 Chapter 8: The Most Correct Choice

“Can… production continue?”

In Hendrik’s office, Mingfuluo, after a moment of stunned silence, quickly repeated: “Can production continue?”

“That’s right. We identified the issue. There was a problem with the core circuit’s production chain. It’s not your fault.”

Though he said this, the alchemist representing the Alchemical Association showed no hint of apology.

From his expression and tone, he even seemed somewhat impatient.

Compared to the Ether Academy, the Alchemical Association harbored little hostility toward Babel Tower, as the Ether Academy represented traditional sorcerer forces, and Babel Tower’s cutting-edge theories were almost provocations to them.

Even in the field of alchemy, though Babel Tower proposed outlandish ideas, alchemists would applaud them.

The realm of creators demanded transcendent talent, fervent passion, and wild ideas that shattered convention.

However, since Babel Tower’s people often only spouted grandiose but impractical and meaningless ideas, the Alchemical Association had little fondness for them, essentially dismissing their lack of capability.

“Remember to send someone to our alchemical workshop to coordinate. The Grand Princess is exerting significant pressure, so hurry up.”

Perhaps because he had already discussed matters with Hendrik, the alchemist left this cold remark and turned to leave.

After he left the office, Hendrik, seated at the desk, stood up and let out a slow breath.

As the leader of Babel Tower and a powerful fifth-tier sorcerer, he carried none of the imposing aura of a strong figure.

Under the Grand Princess’s authority, the Ether Academy’s intimidation, and dealings with various factions, Hendrik’s sharpness had long been worn down.

Though some hoped academia could remain pure, the cruel reality was that academia was never just academia.

“Mingfuluo, the biggest problem at hand has been resolved.”

The man’s heavy thoughts eased considerably.

The Alchemical Association’s blow and Mingfuluo’s soul issue were two major headaches, and now one had inexplicably resolved itself—a tremendous piece of good news.

He wanted to pat Mingfuluo’s shoulder in encouragement but immediately withdrew his hand under her icy glare.

Hendrik didn’t mind.

He knew Mingfuluo disliked physical contact and had simply forgotten in his excitement. After observing her puppet body, he tempered his joy and said seriously: “How severe is the problem?”

“Far more severe than you or I imagined,” Mingfuluo said expressionlessly. “If it’s not resolved soon, my soul won’t be able to return to my body.”

Hendrik’s expression shifted.

He frowned in thought for a moment before saying: “Solen Kannast is a neutral figure among the Supreme Nine Seats of the Ether Academy… He’s rarely in the Imperial Capital and has no reason to oppose us directly.”

“His intervention was to carry out that young Hydra’s punishment against you. Fundamentally, if you can gain that Hydra’s forgiveness—”

“That’s impossible.”

Mingfuluo interrupted Hendrik: “He won’t forgive me.”

She knew well that for Anselm, there was no such thing as “forgiveness.” Since he only sought to force her submission, he would never give her a chance to breathe.

However, the other player in this gamble had countered swiftly.

Mingfuluo thought to herself.

Hydra had forced the Alchemical Association to halt the mass production of the second-generation floating cannon, but that mysterious figure, through unknown means, had restored production. At least for now, she and Babel Tower didn’t have to worry about this issue. And then… wait—

“Choice…”

Mingfuluo suddenly murmured these two words softly.

Hendrik looked puzzled: “Mingfuluo, what did you say?”

The woman merely pushed up her glasses calmly: “Nothing, just thinking of something.”

Indeed, choice.

This moment was the crossroads leading to her next move.

The struggle between Anselm and that mysterious figure over the floating cannon’s production was not merely about restricting or freeing her.

The mass production of the floating cannon itself was a critical node.

From a higher vantage point, Mingfuluo saw the path beneath her feet.

The floating cannon… the mysterious figure, tentatively on her side, needed her to push forward its mass production because—

Mechanized armor!

The vision she saw upon waking from her coma flashed again, and Mingfuluo instantly understood.

Yes, Hydra had given the mechanized armor’s design to the Ether Academy.

Though she didn’t know what he gained, the Ether Academy… had acquired an epoch-defining ether weapon.

If the Ether Academy also possessed an ether weapon worthy of Ivora’s investment, Babel Tower’s few advantages would be significantly diminished.

As a countermeasure against Hydra, that mysterious figure urged Mingfuluo to push the floating cannon’s mass production—though mechanized armor could overpower the floating cannon in force, its inability to be mass-produced was a flaw even the Ether Academy couldn’t overcome.

Yes… the force Ivora needed was one that could arm the entire Empire, giving her the sense of absolute dominance and power over the continent.

She didn’t need powerful individual weapons.

By advancing the floating cannon—no, not just the floating cannon, but the development of even stronger mass-producible weapons—she could curb the Ether Academy!

This was the path that mysterious figure had shown her, and though they too saw her as a pawn, at least… they were betting on her success.

Success in ushering in a new era.

This thought instantly consumed the fleeting hesitation that had crossed her mind.

Mingfuluo disliked creating weapons, as violence didn’t equate to progress.

She didn’t reject violence but didn’t want it to define her career. In her vision, there were not so many brutal weapons.

But just as she had no choice in the beginning, she had no choice now.

And more cleverly, back then, the choiceless Mingfuluo believed she had done the right thing; and now, the choiceless her…

Likewise, had no doubts about herself.

“I’m going to the Alchemical Association, Hendrik.”

Having made up her mind, Mingfuluo said so.

“…What?”

Hendrik couldn’t understand: “Your current state is too dangerous. Why go to the Alchemical Association?”

The Ether Academy’s intent to kill Mingfuluo was evident from her caution in creating fifty-six puppet bodies.

Though the Alchemical Association was neutral, it leaned closer to the Ether Academy.

Banking on the possibility that the Ether Academy would respect the Alchemical Association’s face and not kill her at their stronghold was far too risky.

“There’s something I must do.”

Mingfuluo slipped her hands into the pockets of her white coat, walking toward the door without looking back: “That thing, we can’t make it alone. We need the Alchemical Association’s help.”

“That thing… Wait!”

Hendrik’s expression changed drastically.

He gripped the desk with both hands, staring at Mingfuluo’s back: “Mingfuluo,” the man, almost like a father figure to her, said gravely, “have you forgotten what you promised me?”

“No more weapon research. The Hummingbird was only to prove yourself, and your work on ether weapons would end there.”

Mingfuluo answered calmly.

“Then what are you doing now? You developed firearms, then a floating cannon ten times more dangerous, and now you want to—”

“Hendrik.”

The tall, cold beauty interrupted Hendrik’s angry questioning, looking at the man before her expressionlessly and saying coldly: “If you, if we, had enough power to change all this, I wouldn’t choose to do this.”

“…”

That single sentence froze the anxious flames in Hendrik’s heart.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Mingfuluo continued. “I’m not blaming anyone. I’m merely stating facts. The fact is, we’re still walking on thin ice. Babel Tower supports too many mediocrities and dreamers. We claim to push the frontiers of theory, yet we’ve never truly shaken the Ether Academy’s position.”

“Hendrik.”

The aloof young genius looked at her nominal leader, her tone unwavering: “You know full well what sustains Babel Tower now.”

Violence.

The violence of firearms, the violence of the floating cannon, and the… investment from Ivora that this violence brought.

That was what Babel Tower relied on to survive, not some “ideals,” “technology,” or “aspirations”… Great figures didn’t care about things that couldn’t become reality.

Even if Mingfuluo and her peers saw them as their life’s purpose.

An organization less than a decade old, standing against the centuries-old behemoth that was the Ether Academy, maintaining stability was already a miracle.

Others had tried to challenge the Ether Academy’s authority before, only to become dust in history.

For Babel Tower to achieve this in such a short time, even forcing the Ether Academy to act ruthlessly, was unprecedented.

In such circumstances, who could still have a choice?

Mingfuluo recognized this, and after seeing the path ahead from a higher perspective, she knew what she had to do.

Mechanized armor threatened Babel Tower, and to preserve the potentially faltering Babel Tower, she had to move forward again.

“I will resolve everything.”

She said so, her expression and tone still unwavering: “As always.”

It was all so ironic, yet not so ironic.

The irony was that in a transcendent world defined by strength, Babel Tower had truly established itself with so-called “technology,” its true core being a third-tier young woman.

The lack of irony was that, in essence, this “technology” was merely a bargaining chip for power, for the Grand Princess’s power to be invested here. In the end, it still relied on strength.

It was as if Babel Tower shouldn’t exist, as if… it had been twisted into a bizarre form, treading a murky path.

It all began with the revolution that devil threw to Mingfuluo, a revolution of violence.

Mingfuluo no longer paid attention to Hendrik, walking out coldly and without hesitation.

The man watched her departing figure, slumping into his chair with exhaustion and powerlessness, letting out a deep sigh.

Though he didn’t know what made Mingfuluo so tense, he couldn’t refute her words.

This hall of idealists, seemingly filled with vibrant sorcerers full of innovative dreams for the future, was, in essence… merely a farm for the Grand Princess to harvest violence.

Idealists were never defeated by immediate difficulties.

Hendrik firmly believed Babel Tower would usher in a new future, but now, even he fell into deep thought.

“Teacher… I failed to guide Mingfuluo properly, and it seems I’ve harmed her. I’m sorry.”

Hendrik murmured with a bitter smile: “I should stop her, but that selfish desire prevents me from doing so.”

“Is all this… worth it?”

All this was worth it.

Walking alone down the corridor, Mingfuluo’s heart held no trace of doubt or hesitation.

Her chest lacked a beating heart; the surge of ether replaced blood, and magical metal constructs supported her body.

This cold, rigid frame was like her unyielding resolve.

As long as she could turn that vision into reality, as long as she could protect Babel Tower, her cradle.

Everything… was worth any cost!

Those purple eyes flickered with the paranoia and madness of a devil’s prophecy.

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