Ch.125Golem (2)

“What… did you say?”

“Hmm, I don’t like repeating myself, but since it’s important, I’ll convey it properly once more.”

The golem spoke thus to me as I stood dazed in my black armor.

“I would like you to spread the divine power in your bloodline to as many women as possible to rebuild the divine lineage and reestablish the pantheon.”

Realizing it wasn’t just one woman, the golem added:

“Hmm, now that I say it aloud, it seems like quite a burden, not just one or two. I’ll try to provide you with something personally in return, so I’d appreciate your efforts.”

“Are you insane?”

“Hmm? Is that how you see it? I thought it would be easy since you already have many favorable women around you.”

Indeed.

Just because a golem gains consciousness and intelligence doesn’t mean it can compare to humans.

After all, it’s merely a being with intelligence and self-awareness, but without a human heart.

I realized why such entities were called “abhorrent intelligence” in some worldviews I’d encountered. Better to be a mindless tool than this.

My disgust remained hidden behind my helmet, but the golem continued spewing words that denied humanity.

“Originally, I intended to assign black knights as excellent bride candidates for you, but the women already around you are fine specimens capable of producing excellent successors. I needn’t intervene.”

“One of them is my sister.”

“Then she’s a homunculus, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. She can produce fine, well-bred successors.”

Is this guy truly insane?

“No, I said she’s my sister.”

“Incest is common among gods. Even royalty frequently practices it to maintain their bloodline.”

“But still…”

Shit, he’s not wrong.

I mentally cursed all the mythological beings from Greek, Japanese, Egyptian, and Christian traditions I’d never even seen.

Why couldn’t they keep their dicks in check? Bastards, seriously.

Of course, thinking calmly, those mythological beings weren’t at fault.

Just because those gods didn’t practice incest didn’t mean the gods in this world wouldn’t. At most, their cultural influence might have inspired the creators to include “gods of the mythical era practiced incest” as background lore.

In reality, I was just venting my anger at the wrong target since there was no one to actually condemn.

“Your sister is the Guardian Knight, correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“The Guardian Knight has shown goodwill toward you, and I understand she burns with a deep sense of mission and justice for this world. If it’s the right choice for the greater good, I expect she wouldn’t refuse.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Hmm, your attitude has suddenly become quite disrespectful.”

“Does it not seem warranted?”

I wanted to leave. I wanted to get out of there, but I still had calibration to complete.

Calibration to make the armor truly mine. During that process, I had to listen to the golem’s persistent but completely illogical matchmaking.

Or was it too logical?

The frightening part was that I was gradually being persuaded. As soon as the calibration finished, I fled, and the golem, not understanding human feelings, saw me off saying I should start making an effort now.

I sincerely hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

I didn’t want to see orphans all over the world bearing my name like Zeus.

*

[Play Time: 9,944 hours]

About a week passed.

Nothing much happened in or around the pantheon—or more accurately, the black knights handled everything before anything could happen.

If there was a problem the black knights couldn’t solve, the combat team led by Melody, my sister, and Lorian would deploy. And even beyond that, we had a golem who neither understood human hearts nor showed mercy.

A very energetic level 20 black knight/golem at that.

Valterok was a calamity to dark wizards and wandering monsters alike.

A black knight who monitored from high above and, the moment he sensed magic that offended his senses, would dive at incredible speed and tear the offender apart.

It might have seemed like overkill for perimeter defense, but thanks to that, I felt relaxed for the first time in a while.

So I was able to do many things during that time.

Like asking Lorian about how to use a hand axe, only for him to boast that he wouldn’t know about such leisurely weapons, so I told him they were useless.

Or asking my sister, feeling the stark difference in talent, and thinking, “Ah, she won’t be of help either,” before running away.

Or asking Isla with half expectation and half worry, and actually learning something useful from her.

I didn’t ask Melody since she’s a dexterity character, so I didn’t think she’d know.

Isla, though estimated to be a similar dexterity character, knew how to handle hand axes well, probably because she was a hunter.

Come to think of it, it wasn’t that Isla was a low-level hunter; circumstances just hadn’t been favorable until now.

That, and she had almost no magic power to use skills.

“I’ve already solved that.”

“Huh?”

“Weren’t you muttering to yourself?”

“Oh, was I?”

She’s not reading my mind and saying something else, is she? When I looked at her suspiciously, Ortemilia touched her jade-colored horn and smoothed her hair.

No, that’s not what I meant.

“Hmm? Everything seems fine to me.”

“…Never mind.”

“Huh?”

“I said never mind.”

“What a bland fellow.”

Ortemilia. The person with the most skilled hands, analytical ability, and crafting skills among those under my command.

Once renowned as an alchemist, I was having a private meeting with this necromancer of the Three Tribes for a simple reason.

“So, you made it as I requested?”

“Hehe, of course. Have you already forgotten who I am?”

“The great alchemist, of course.”

“You and your flattery. If only you had been this docile when we first met.”

Though she said that, there seemed to be no regret in her expression.

Rather, Ortemilia smiled as if she was quite satisfied with our current relationship.

She was holding a thin chisel-like tool against a ring secured in some magical fixture, infusing it with magic.

If I could sense magical power, I might have felt something, but since I couldn’t, it was completely imperceptible to me.

I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.

“But since the armor is black and has anti-magic properties, will it work properly?”

“The anti-magic power in that armor is a function premised on your wearing it. It’s quite clever and cunning. Similar to power that usually costs lifespan… they must have made it knowing you’re a homunculus. Very cunning indeed.”

“Ah, I see.”

“More importantly, I’d like to hear what that golem said to you.”

Ortemilia asked while fiddling with the ring. I crossed my arms and pouted my lips, uncomfortable with the subject.

“Making cute expressions won’t solve anything. Why not tell me something to entertain your bored mother?”

“Who’s whose mother?”

“Well, you’re certainly not my mother, are you?”

“Can’t argue with that. I’ll concede.”

“Funny fellow.”

My relationship with Ortemilia had entered a somewhat ambiguous phase.

I honestly felt awkward around Lorian, who had declared himself my concubine, and things were uncomfortable with Melody after her recent confession attack.

And my sister was giving me suspicious looks.

The only people I felt truly comfortable with were Isla and Ortemilia.

Especially the latter.

“You really don’t have any romantic feelings for me, right?”

“Of course I have affection for you. Not the squealing kind like those girls who bother you, but something closer to maternal love. It’s an unintended function, which makes it interesting.”

“So should I call you mom?”

“Hmph, you think I’d like that? I absolutely would. Call me that often and I might even pat your head.”

What a strange woman.

Ortemilia clearly looked younger than me in terms of height, build, and appearance.

But contrary to appearances, her actual age and behavior were more mature than mine, making her motherly demeanor quite fitting.

Even now.

“So, what does mom think about it?”

“Hmm, that sounds nice.”

“Not that.”

“Not even giving me a moment to enjoy it, are you?”

Ortemilia, dressed neatly, paused her work on the ring’s circuitry and pondered.

“Rebuilding the gods, is it? If these ‘gods’ are related to ‘Father,’ then logically, rebuilding would be a practical path to victory. It would be the most direct way to reduce the influence of the calamity.”

But. After saying that, Ortemilia briefly showed an uncomfortable expression.

“I don’t like the idea of treating you like a breeding rooster. I did include reproductive functionality, but… it’s somewhat distasteful.”

“Really? I thought you’d just agree.”

“Do I seem that cold-hearted to you?”

“Honestly, a bit?”

“Hmph, then I have a chance to change your perception.”

That was unexpected. I thought Ortemilia the alchemist would say, “Oh, that’s great. Want me to make some potions for when you’re having sex?” and brew a bunch to dump on me.

Then I’d have to smash those potions over her head or something.

But surprisingly, Ortemilia’s opinion differed from the golem who didn’t understand human hearts.

Ah, a golem that knows less about human hearts than a necromancer, supposedly the least human of the Three Tribes.

This perfectly fits the expression “abhorrent intelligence,” which wasn’t regrettable at all.

“But I can understand it.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a golem, isn’t it? Even if it gained intelligence, its nature is still that of a golem. Prioritizing orders is natural. Even with self-awareness and intelligence, its life must be vastly different from humans.”

“Oh, so…”

“Still, my personal aversion and opinion as your creator and mother is against it. Do you know when you were manufactured?”

“Uh, that’s…”

Help me, status window cheat sheet.

I quickly glanced at the number 9,944 and hastily calculated.

It’s been over a year, so…

“A little over a year…?”

“If my memory serves, today is the 414th day since your creation.”

“Oh, has it been that long?”

Of those, I spent 365 days quietly in my cell in the Three Tribes’ fortress, so it wasn’t strange that it felt short.

By my slow mental calculation, it had been only about 50 days since I left that place.

Wow, time really flies.

But Ortemilia seemed to feel the opposite.

“It’s too early to test that function. Besides not liking you being treated like a breeding rooster.”

The latter seemed to carry more weight. Like a parent upset about their child being treated that way.

I never thought Ortemilia would think like this, but she was accepting me with more responsibility than I expected.

“It’s entirely up to you, but I want to advise you to decide carefully.”

“I will.”

“Come to me anytime you need counsel.”

“You won’t suddenly fall for me during counseling, right?”

Ortemilia burst out laughing at my words. She brushed back her hair that had shifted to one side and cheerfully released the ring from its fixture.

“What mother falls for her own child? There’s no need to worry about that.”

Her assurance makes me a bit uneasy.

But it should be fine. I thought as I took the ring Ortemilia handed me.

A message appeared in the corner of my vision.

[Combat Ready]

[“I should have learned to sleep in armor.”

-Development motivation for the ring, a warrior’s lament after being attacked during camp without armor

This ring appears ordinary at first glance. Designed intentionally to be inconspicuous, it’s composed of more sophisticated magic than expected. The moment it’s worn, it stores the wearer’s armor during normal times and transfers it precisely to where it should be worn during combat.

This ring is a replica of that artifact.]

[Stores armor that takes 6 or more seconds to equip and allows instant equipping. Activates automatically in combat.]

I smiled with satisfaction as I slipped the ring onto my index finger.

Thinking that with this, my preparations were complete.