Ch.251251. Contact (2)

●

In the massive city near Elphante Academy, there are many fascinating sights to behold.

It’s probably because the place is near the Golden Triangle, where all sorts of people come and go.

With various races, cultures, and merchants passing through, there’s plenty to see and enjoy on these streets.

It takes something truly unusual to catch people’s attention in such a place.

“Welcome- Eek!”

But even in such a place.

When something infused with Demonic Spire technology strides into the middle of a café, it’s clearly strange enough to draw attention.

As the massive cyborg entered, making the floor shake with each step, the server who was about to greet it with a professional smile let out a terrified scream.

The drinks on the serving tray rattled, but a solid arm powered by tens of thousands of tiny pistons immediately stabilized it.

“Do be careful.”

“…”

What a gentlemanly cyborg.

Of course, the intimidating aura it exuded was far from ordinary, leaving the server’s face turning even paler.

“Ah, y-yes, th-thank you…”

Still, a professional is a professional.

Even with such a terrifying steel human standing before them, they somehow managed to squeeze out a smile and guide it to a table.

“…Well.”

As soon as we sat facing each other, I awkwardly scratched my head and spoke.

“Would you like something to drink?”

[…Are you serious? It doesn’t exactly look like it’s here to nibble on a salad, does it?]

Calivan Chrysanyx tackled me with an incredulous voice, but honestly, I don’t know what to say either.

This person appeared so suddenly without any warning that I genuinely don’t know how to interact with them.

If there were other people here it might be different, but the Holy Lady who was caught being walked on a leash outdoors by this person had fled with Yuria Greyhaunter with an expression that suggested she might cry.

[…Apologize to her later.]

‘…Yes.’

I inwardly sigh and agree, given the circumstances.

But that aside.

‘…I don’t know much about the Demonic Spire either.’

Even in the original Savior Rising, the Demonic Spire was treated almost like a MacGuffin.

It was clearly a group created to provide plausibility when adding joke items that could change the game genre entirely.

There’s hardly any information about them, and bizarre items just have tooltips saying “This is from the Demonic Spire. End of explanation!”

Some developer with strange tastes clearly wanted to shove lightsabers, railguns, and cyborgs into a fantasy world…

As I was thinking this, a response came from across the table.

“No. I bring my own lunch box.”

“…”

So it actually does eat something.

As I was thinking this, the cyborg pulled out several iron bars from inside its chest.

Enough to make the table tilt to one side.

“…”

Ah.

Steel cyborg, so iron bars are its food.

I don’t know how it works, but apparently it can get nutrition from those.

As I was contemplating this absurdity, the cyborg took out a metal lump about the size of a ping-pong ball from a cartridge inside its arm.

When it placed the lump on the iron bars on the table with a thud, the mass scattered like insects and began devouring the metal.

“Machine-type Monsoon. A nano-kit for self-repair.”

“…Nano-kit?”

“These helpful little things can break down any well-refined metal to repair my body.”

Hearing this explanation, my mouth clamped shut.

‘…A cyborg with nanomachines?’

Are you kidding me?

In a world where horse-drawn carriages are still commonly seen, they can pull out things like this?

“…”

To be honest, the level of technology is completely different.

I’ve seen plenty of over-technology items in the Tribal Union, but these are clearly things you’d only see in science fiction.

‘No wonder the dominant nations are wary of the Demonic Spire…’

Of course, with overwhelming national resources, it might be possible for one country to decide to crush the Demonic Spire, but with this level of technology, they could certainly inflict devastating damage on any one side.

As I was understanding with my whole body why they’re called the strongest single organization, the cyborg across from me spoke again.

“I apologize for coming so suddenly.”

Those words fell calmly.

“But it’s an urgent matter. Please forgive me.”

“…How did you find me?”

“I asked around about you to the hero and your acquaintances until I found you here. Everyone seemed quite startled since they’d never seen a ‘battle doll’ like me before.”

“…”

I bet they were.

I couldn’t help but smile imagining Elia Krisanax’s dumbfounded face upon suddenly encountering something like this.

But my smile vanished as soon as I heard what came next.

“I heard you killed Count Nicholas.”

“…!”

In an instant, my mind tensed up.

I instinctively began analyzing what this being was saying.

Setting aside how the Demonic Spire knew about this fact.

Why bring this up directly to my face?

“To avoid misunderstanding, I’m here at someone’s request. I’m here to help you.”

“…You came to help me?”

When I asked with slight suspicion, the optical lenses gleamed once as they looked at my face.

I think it smiled. Probably.

“You’ve grown up well, Darwood Campbell.”

“…Pardon?”

“You look exactly like your mother always boasted you would.”

My movements froze.

“Jadang” – an honorific term for someone else’s mother.

Which means, this being…

Is talking about my mother, whom I’ve never seen, and whom my father never mentions.

‘…My mother is in the Demonic Spire?’

This is news to me.

Even setting aside my father who never opens his mouth about mother-related matters.

If she were such a famous person, someone—be it the Emperor or the Chancellor, or anyone else closely related to me—should have mentioned her at least once.

“I owe a great deal to Dr. Astrid. She’s the one who modified this body when I nearly died.”

As I was pondering these questions, those words followed.

“It’s ridiculous that a Demonic Spire Executor is playing messenger, but I couldn’t refuse her request.”

I close my mouth and glare at the being.

The information came too suddenly, and there are too few clues to understand the intention.

Perhaps it’s using this story as an excuse to deceive me—

[…No, I think it’s sincere.]

‘What?’

[I heard something during my Guardian days. It’s natural you don’t know since there’s so little information about the Demonic Spire.]

Calivan spoke through the Soul Linker, almost groaning.

[This being just called itself an Executor. If that’s true, it’s too high-ranking to be deceiving you with ‘trivial lies.’ If people knew who this being really is, the entire Empire would be in an uproar.]

‘…What exactly is an Executor?’

[The military arm of the Demonic Spire.]

Calivan continued with a sigh.

[Just know that much for now. I don’t want to scare you unnecessarily.]

“…”

This person, to this extent.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him show signs of being “overwhelmed” by someone.

This is the same person who rushed in without hesitation, risking his life during the Red Demon’s Night Field incident.

As I was frowning at that thought, words flew from the cyborg across the table again.

“I was asked to deliver two things from Dr. Astrid.”

Clearly, having been asked to act as a messenger, it intends to fulfill that duty.

“She insisted that I must convey both without omission.”

Regardless of my reaction, it continues with its message.

“First. For what you’re planning to do, three demonic essences should be sufficient.”

“…What?”

“You used the blue one to grind up Count Nicholas, so the red and brown ones, plus the white one you obtained using the homunculus sisters, should be enough for your plan. She says not to waste time trying to collect them all.”

Because of the gentle attitude maintained so far and the calm delivery of the sentences, it took me a moment to understand what this being was saying.

But when the meaning of those words sank in…

“…!”

A chill ran down my spine.

This being knows exactly about my condition.

More precisely, the Demonic Spire does.

My mother, who is supposedly there.

She sees through facts that even the Holy Empire, and perhaps even I myself, haven’t fully grasped.

The system of the seals, my relationship with the demons, even what I’m planning to do next.

‘…What on earth.’

I don’t understand what’s happening.

Why this message is being delivered suddenly, and why it’s coming from someone called my mother whom I’ve never had contact with before.

I can’t grasp the intention or purpose behind any of this.

As I wore a confused expression, the Executor continued.

“Second… Ah, please focus. Dr. Astrid said this part is much more important.”

“…”

A sentence suggesting they already knew I would react this way.

As I unconsciously hardened my expression while staring at the Executor, the next sentence followed.

“She says to hang in there. She’s really looking forward to the school performance. And that mom is always on her son’s side.”

“…”

“She added that since you’ll obviously try to figure out her ulterior motives because of your personality, please stop doing such useless things.”

“…”

“Oh, and she said she’ll personally screen your future daughter-in-law.”

“…”

“She says it’s killing her to see unworthy women wagging their tails at her precious son. She’ll be coming in person soon.”

“…”

“That’s all.”

My expression momentarily went blank.

Um.

So.

“…”

This person who is my mother.

Seems to be quite an eccentric.

That was the only impression I could barely form in my jumbled mind.

●

Cecilia Arc Bailey Diedonné’s personal room—or more precisely, first-year student Cecil’s room at Elphante’s First School District—is quite a peculiar place.

To other students in the same building, she gives the impression of being strangely frail, strangely beautiful, and also strangely mysterious, so no one has ever seen the inside of her room.

And Faynol Leiphec, who visited there late at night, was truly grateful for that fact.

If anyone else had unknowingly opened this door and entered, their head would have flown off immediately.

“…”

Faynol, who was about to enter the room, looked with a slightly appalled expression at the “slash” that had flown up to his face and stopped.

If he had taken one more step.

If he had created the magical defense barrier even a little later.

His head might have been severed.

“…I ask for your understanding.”

The Emperor, who had been looking at Faynol entering the personal room with slightly widened eyes, soon smiled bitterly and closed the book she had been reading in bed.

“My guards are quite concerned, you see. If an unknown person approaches without notice, they might cut them down, so be careful.”

“…”

Just now, clearly.

A slash had suddenly flown from empty space.

As if such an attack had been “stored” and set to automatically fire when someone approached the Emperor without permission.

A Saint.

Those who have reached the pinnacle in their fields.

If it’s the Saint of the Sword, considered the strongest among them, is even such an absurd feat possible?

Faynol barely swallowed dry saliva.

“…I apologize for entering without permission, Your Majesty. I knocked but there was no answer.”

“Call me Cecil. I’m not ‘Your Majesty’ here.”

The Emperor said with a slight yawn.

“So, what did you want to say that made you suddenly visit my personal room this late at night? I don’t think we’re intimate enough to spend the night together.”

“…I came to discuss something with you.”

More precisely, something close to a conspiracy.

The Emperor tilted her head with a puzzled expression.

“…Discuss?”

“I came to ask if you’d be willing to cooperate with me, Cecil.”

Faynol said, taking a deep breath.

“I think it would increase our success rate. The target’s defense rate is quite formidable.”

“Success rate? Defense rate? What are you talking about?”

“About squeezing Darwood Campbell.”

“…”

“Ah, sexually, I mean.”

“…”

“I want to make a plan where even if one of us fails, the other will definitely succeed. At this rate, it feels like none of us will succeed, so rather—”

“…Stop right there.”

The Emperor pressed her forehead, showing signs of a headache.

She looked as if she had never heard such an absurd thing in her life.

“Did you really come to find me at this late hour to discuss such a thing?”

“Yes.”

“…Do I look like someone who would readily cooperate with such talk?”

Faynol tilted his head.

He looked as if he was asking, isn’t that obvious?

“Yes.”

“…”

“Well, your objectives might be slightly different, but anyway, Your Majesty also seems quite interested in having relations with him—”

“Enough.”

Cecil sighed and cut him off.

“That’s quite preposterous.”

A terrifying gaze shot at Faynol. It was truly solemn and grave…

“How did you read me so accurately?”

“…”

“Tell me more details.”

Faynol smiled broadly.

It was the smile only someone who had successfully acquired an accomplice for committing wicked deeds could wear.

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