Volume 2

Chapter 18: The Devil’s Companion (2)

The Southern Territory, the Empire’s most prosperous region.

Lush forests, tranquil lakes, fertile lands… Territories in the Southern Territory rarely faced resource scarcity.

The Empire’s citizens here were envied as fortunate by those elsewhere.

Though longstanding issues persisted, most here lived relatively peaceful, content lives.

But today, some of these fortunate souls… would become unfortunate victims.

In the imperial palace’s grand hall, Ephithand, seated high on her throne, propped her cheek, gazing with interest at the massive screen displaying a three-dimensional scene before her and her ministers.

A war, meant only to humble Ivora, with no real justification, was about to begin.

At this point, the tyrannical Empress seemed to take some interest.

Long slumbering in the source flame, she hadn’t indulged herself in a while, so she shifted her focus from her daughter to this war.

“Anselm.”

The aged woman on the throne chuckled.

“Tell me, what makes these two territories special, worthy of your selection for this performance?”

Anselm, below the throne, smiled and nodded, lightly waving a hand.

The screen shifted left, revealing a vast black-armored legion.

“This is Mirror Lake Territory, supported by the Ether Academy.”

Anselm spoke, zooming the screen to the legion’s rear camp, where a handsome but weathered middle-aged man appeared.

“Robaire Mirror Lake. He’s been Count Mirror Lake for twenty-three years. Most nobles in the Southern Territory speak highly of him, an excellent lord who cares deeply for his people.”

“And the other side…”

The screen swiftly changed, showing a younger, equally striking but visibly nervous youth.

“Kaitomoto Watson. The new Count Watson, recently ascended after his father’s sudden death. Young, capable, ambitious, with good political skill, he aims to benefit his people and has a bright future.”

After briefly introducing the two lords, Anselm turned to Ephithand, bowing slightly.

“Since Your Majesty desires a thrilling war, merely selecting two suitable territories is far from enough.”

Anselm snapped his fingers, and the screen shifted to a region shrouded in eerie pale green mist.

“This is the core of Mirror Lake Territory, the richest Ether vein.”

The young Hydra’s gaze fell on an elderly man at the forefront of the noble ranks.

“About a month ago, Grand Duke Source Tree conducted a small experiment in Mirror Lake Territory, but it… got out of hand.”

“It failed.”

The hunched old man, leaning on a cane, smiled, his wrinkled face more frightening than without.

“No need to spare my feelings, Anselm… Mentioning Mirror Lake Territory reminded me of it.”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“That experiment polluted Mirror Lake’s Ether vein, making it prone to spawning anomalous lifeforms or magical beasts. It’s currently incurable, but I promised Robaire I’d station people there to handle the beast issue.”

Anselm nodded.

“That’s Mirror Lake’s current predicament. As for Count Watson, his situation is simpler.”

The screen showed a grand castle and Anselm’s voice continued.

“His father died in a conspiracy not worth mentioning here. Count Watson faced immense pressure upon taking power. His enemies have been causing trouble, and Watson Territory is in disarray. He’s struggling and needs an opportunity to resolve all his problems at once—so… I offered him one on Your Majesty’s behalf.”

The young Hydra turned, bowing to the Empress, whose eyes grew brighter, with a gentle smile.

“A war driven purely by coercion is dull and uninspiring. To satisfy Your Majesty, both sides… should have clear reasons to fight to the death.”

“And as it happens… both sides in this war have reasons to fight to their last breath. I believe Your Majesty will find it entertaining.”

His actions and words, stripped of pretense, were those of a court jester pleasing the Empress.

Yet, aside from the increasingly muddled, chaos- and madness-tainted Empress, no noble or minister in the hall saw the young man below the throne as a mere clown.

Their keen instincts told them Anselm Hydra wasn’t acting under the Empress’s orders in this game.

—He wasn’t making these meticulous arrangements just to please her.

These two territories, these two lords, seemed perfectly suited to the Empress’s spectacle, but the old monsters in the Empire’s highest political circles knew Anselm’s plans went deeper… he had his own motives.

What was he scheming, what was he pursuing?

Everyone wanted to know—not to threaten him, but to align with this young Hydra, or at least avoid opposing him.

Of course, these were the nobles’ and ministers’ calculations.

The Empress, focused on crushing her daughter’s arrogance and enjoying a good show, didn’t think so deeply, nor did she need to.

She laughed heartily.

“Good, excellent! Anselm, you never disappoint me. Indeed… a war is only interesting if both sides have a genuine desire to kill.”

Ephithand’s lips curled, waving a hand.

“Let it begin. Let me see…”

She glanced at the sullen Ivora, her smile openly contemptuous.

“What my daughter has accomplished.”

***

One day earlier, Watson Territory.

In the grand castle, Kaitomoto Watson warmly welcomed Babel Tower’s members, despite their grim expressions, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’ve used many of Babel Tower’s inventions. I must say, your insights in the extraordinary field are remarkable, especially in basic Ether applications… expanding so many layers and aspects. I believe much of it could change—”

“Count Watson,” Mingfuluo interrupted, “how many extraordinary beings can you muster for this war?”

“About two hundred who can make a real impact.”

Seeing her lack of interest, Kaitomoto gave a wry smile.

“Including mercenaries, that’s all the extraordinary beings I can provide.”

“Honestly, I and Watson Territory’s extraordinary beings have never experienced anything so… incomprehensible.”

War was a distant concept for the Empire’s citizens.

Even in times of disorder, conflicts rarely escalated to what could be called “war.”

Extraordinary beings couldn’t fathom what they were supposed to do in this war.

Perhaps… just pure slaughter.

“The only good news is,” Count Watson sighed softly, “Count Mirror Lake agreed to a direct confrontation to decide the outcome. This… absurd war shouldn’t threaten my people.”

“…What?”

While other Babel Tower members looked relieved, Mingfuluo frowned, questioning, “Are you sure he said that?”

Kaitomoto, puzzled by her reaction, nodded instinctively after a pause.

“Yes, that’s the agreement we reached. Both sides will settle it with a single battle, not letting the war spread to harm our people.”

Mingfuluo stood abruptly, her gaze and tone icy.

“When did you agree to this?”

Count Watson, sensing something off from her expression, grew uneasy.

“What’s wrong, Miss Zege? Is there a problem?”

“You don’t know what the Ether Academy gave them?”

Kaitomoto smiled bitterly.

“You overestimate me.”

Mingfuluo turned to Hendrik, who came with her.

“No one told him about the mechanized armor?”

Hendrik remained silent.

With everyone assuming defeat was inevitable, the scholars had no inclination to care about other factors that could sway the situation.

“…”

Mingfuluo closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stared into Kaitomoto’s eyes, enunciating each word.

“You’ve been deceived, Count Watson.”

“…What?”

“The Black Knight, the weapon the Ether Academy gave Mirror Lake Territory, is designed for maximum destruction in direct combat. Its armor, its armaments, are built for annihilation on the battlefield.”

“…And Nidhogg is least suited for direct combat. Time was short; we haven’t unlocked its full potential. It’s too fragile now—battle shockwaves alone could destroy it.”

She leaned on the table, facing the grave Count Watson.

“This is the worst possible scenario.”

“But at least…” Hendrik interjected, “at least the people won’t suffer, right, Count—”

“No.”

The count, who moments ago lamented his people’s safety, now looked grim.

“If we lose this war, nothing matters.”

Mingfuluo glanced at Hendrik’s frozen expression.

“He’s far more rational than you, Hendrik.”

She knew exactly why he’d initially feigned concern for his people.

Not because he cared about them, but because he didn’t want to win only to inherit two ravaged territories.

Unaware of what the Ether Academy gave Mirror Lake and ignorant that this war was entirely unfair from the start, Count Watson had believed he had a chance.

Thinking he could win, he agreed to the request, preserving his interests to some extent.

But when that possibility plummeted, he had to make a choice, to abandon something.

Clearly, Count Watson was someone who’d sacrifice prior interests for victory.

As he said, if he lost, nothing mattered.

In the end, it was just a matter of choosing value, Mingfuluo thought.

“Miss Zege.”

The young lord dropped his warm hospitality, his face dark. “Is there a way to fix this?”

“No. Backing out now isn’t an option.”

Mingfuluo said expressionlessly, “If you avoid it, you’ve already lost in the Empress’s eyes—because that’s ‘unappealing.’”

The cold “unappealing” sent a chill down Count Watson’s spine.

“And it’s not just the Empress—Princess Ivora won’t let you off either. She won’t accept… Never mind, you probably don’t understand what’s behind this. Explaining it is pointless.”

“…Damn it!”

The young man slammed his fist on the table, cursing.

“Robaire, that hypocritical scum! Using his people as a pretext… Damn bastard!”

Hendrik and the other Babel Tower members were numb, while Mingfuluo remained unmoved, quietly waiting for Watson to vent his anger.

Fortunately, the young lord, highly regarded by Anselm, quickly regained control.

Taking a deep breath, he said earnestly to Mingfuluo, “Miss Zege… I believe you don’t want Babel Tower to fail either. Whatever you need, I’ll do my utmost to cooperate!”

“…”

Mingfuluo lowered her head slightly, light glinting off her gray-white glasses.

After a brief silence, she looked up at Watson.

“The best solution I have requires a significant cost.”

“No war is without cost,” Watson replied without hesitation.

“Just tell me what to do.”

“Good.”

Mingfuluo said no more.

“Tomorrow, follow my arrangements. Our chances of winning aren’t zero.”

She was pleased her current collaborator was decisive.

If he’d hesitated or wavered at this juncture, Mingfuluo would have had to accept defeat.

But since he was unhesitant about making sacrifices, the current disadvantage might still be turned around.

She couldn’t lose, and she wouldn’t lose.

***

In this war, both the Ether Academy and Babel Tower had representatives present.

The former was there to further observe and understand the Black Knight’s battlefield performance; the latter…

The latter was likely trying to make a final attempt to change someone’s mindset or preparing for the worst possible outcome.

“…Miss Zege.”

Count Watson gripped the black ring tightly, his face heavy with resolve.

“Is it really… enough to just follow your instructions?”

Mingfuluo’s tone was as cold as ever.

“I’ve already explained it clearly before… Fine, I’ll repeat it one last time.”

“Due to time constraints, the current Nidhogg is far from perfect. It has many limitations and negative effects, and it’s not stable enough. To defeat the mechanized armor, we adopted very aggressive designs. As the operator, you may be corroded by its Ether, damaging your body or soul. The worst case is death, but—”

“But I can win, right?”

Watson said, the weight on his face easing.

“Correct.” Mingfuluo nodded.

“Nidhogg can absolutely pierce the Black Knight’s armor. Once it reaches the Ether circuits, the war is over.”

“The condition is you hold out until then and keep the Nidhogg swarm highly intact when it contacts the Black Knight. As for maintaining Nidhogg’s integrity…”

She adjusted her glasses.

“We discussed the strategy yesterday.”

“Exactly.”

Watson exhaled slowly, slipping the black ring onto his wrist.

Instantly, the ring clamped tightly around his wrist and visible fine black threads spread from the ring in all directions across his arm.

Upon closer inspection, those “threads” weren’t threads at all but countless tiny… insects!

“How does it feel?” Mingfuluo stared at Watson’s wrist, light flickering across her glasses.

“…Not great.” Watson’s expression twisted, the pain clearly far worse than his words suggested.

“It’s the necessary linking process. Having your soul nibbled isn’t pleasant, but can you control Nidhogg normally?”

The young lord took a deep breath.

The dense “black threads” detached from the ring, forming a swirling black mist in the air.

He stared at it, instinctively reaching out, but Mingfuluo slapped his hand away.

“They have no other restrictions or settings beyond your commands and their attack instinct. Don’t touch them unless you want to die.”

“What exactly…” Watson murmured in disbelief. “What are these? I feel like my body has an extra part I can control freely…”

“I explained it clearly enough yesterday. No time to repeat now.”

Mingfuluo’s tone grew impatient.

They should’ve had Watson test Nidhogg yesterday, but the current version lost efficacy after one use… Ultimately, time didn’t allow for a better product.

“Remember.” She stared at Watson, emphasizing repeatedly, “Your sole purpose is to get Nidhogg inside the Black Knight. Achieve that, and victory is within reach.”

Seemingly mastering Nidhogg, Watson nodded, excitedly directing the tiny, numerous alchemical insects to dance in the air.

Wasting no time, he soon dispersed the Nidhogg swarm, letting it vanish into the air.

“Then I’ll head to the front to command the battle… Heh, I’ve never experienced a so-called war, but with this, with this kind of weapon…”

Watson, brimming with excitement, hurried to the front, while Mingfuluo lingered briefly before turning to Hendrik.

“Let’s go find a good vantage point. Don’t waste this chance to test Nidhogg’s effectiveness.”

“…Mingfuluo.”

Hendrik’s expression was deeply complex.

“Do you really have to… go this far?”

Mingfuluo frowned slightly.

“I thought we settled this topic long ago.”

Sacrifice, cost, choice, worthiness—Hendrik had tried discussing these with her over the past few days, but Mingfuluo’s responses were consistently brief and cold:

“This is the most rational choice.”

Especially after learning the war wouldn’t involve civilians, Mingfuluo’s already minimal hesitation hardened into steel.

But Hendrik didn’t want her to yield on this matter.

He wanted her to break free from that obsessive, mad vortex, to avoid being led down an irreversible path by her fixation.

Yet reality… left him too powerless.

A powerlessness that filled Hendrik with dread.

It was as if… something was pushing Mingfuluo, step by step, to this point, shaping her into what she was now.

Since inventing the Ether-driven firearm, the events she faced—those “rational choices” she made—were neither light enough to keep her from extreme rational thinking nor heavy enough to break her under pressure, forcing emotional upheaval or reflection.

Neither happened.

The firearm, the mass production of floating cannons, new weapons, this war…

And the events over these three years that made her colder and colder.

All, all stayed within a range that made her increasingly “correct” and “rational.”

As Hendrik accompanied Mingfuluo to this war, he even harbored a selfish, cruel hope—that the civilians burned mercilessly by war, the countless bloody tragedies, the scorched, shattered aftermath—might awaken her humanity and conscience, giving her a chance to escape the abyss of rationality.

But… by such a coincidence, this absurd war, even more absurdly, didn’t involve civilians.

The two lords were settling it like a knightly duel, deciding the war’s outcome in a single battle.

And in this situation… Unable to see the war’s true cruelty, Mingfuluo would never think her choices were wrong.

She’d only believe she was right.

But was Mingfuluo Zege truly without fault…

Or was someone weaving a malicious curtain, blocking the path to enlightenment, leading her down a dark, self-righteous road of no return?

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