The Gloomy and Timid Princess Heads to the Academy – Chapter 82

Chapter 82: Ah, it’s broken now

“…Anima…! Please… come back… Talk to me again… We’re friends, aren’t we…?”

– Affirmative. Cecilia is my friend. However… commands must be followed.

…Huh. This was starting to make me feel like the villain here. Spirits were more rigid than I thought.

All I wanted was to call it over and ask some questions, but this situation made it seem like I was trying to steal her precious friend.

I’d really just investigate and return it right away. Even if she was one of those girls who clung to Dogeon, seeing her about to cry softened me a bit.

“Fine… then tell me how you ended up like this.”

From the looks of it, Anima wasn’t going to last much longer. Its dwindling mana was nearly exhausted. At best, it might hold out for a few more months.

– Confirmed. This unit was created approximately 500◼ years ago by ◼bi. Purpose: Searching for the missing advance party and observing and surveying this continent.

“No need for the detailed backstory. Just explain why you’re so ‘broken into pieces.’”

Hearing that Mother had created this god didn’t surprise me. She had a tendency to create all kinds of things as needed.

For instance, there was the god that wrapped around a mountain like a giant snake; they had originally been a serpent beastkin before Mother selected them to ascend to godhood.

Still, it was impressive that Anima could function in this state. Either Mother’s creation was exceptional, or whoever reduced it to this state was remarkable.

-…When we arrived, the advance party had already been killed or ◼◼. Additionally, we were attacked by the natives.

Apparently, Anima couldn’t process multiple commands at once. Even after I told it to skip the lengthy explanations, it persistently continued its tale.

“…Anima, no…”

Meanwhile, Cecilia was now fully crying, slumping to the ground. This wasn’t how I wanted things to go…

– The attacking natives were converted using mana. Attempts to utilize them for exploration were thwarted by the ‘hero’ blessed by the goddess and their group.

…Great. Just great. Nothing ever goes smoothly for me, does it? Well, I suppose I could apologize sincerely later.

– Ho◼◼: killed. Ken◼: killed. Bodies processed postmortem. This unit: divided into 170 parts and processed by the goddess. Bel◼gor: killed. Shikari: sealed.

It seemed to be talking about its companions, but whether due to age or its near-broken state, the static was overwhelming.

Still, I could piece the gist together: this goddess and her subordinates had done this to the godMother created.

As expected, if nothing else, the church really needs to be wiped out.

“Anima, you’ve done enough. Now return to your master.”

– Correction: This unit’s master is…

Before Anima could finish, it stopped functioning altogether.

No way.

It must have just paused for a moment. It couldn’t have broken because of me… right? There was no way its mana coincidentally ran out at such a terrible moment.

Huh, the mana reserve reads zero.

“…Anima? Why did you stop…? Anima?”

…So, uh… This means I basically took a friend with only days to live and killed them off, huh.

“Anima…?”

It wasn’t a structural flaw. It was just like a clock stopping because its battery had run out. The problem was there was no way to replace that battery.

Even if I tried pouring the warped mana that surrounded us into it, it’d be like filling a car with cooking oil.

It might run, but only barely, and even if it did, it’d ruin the machine. There really was no solution, was there?

…What now? Returning it like this was no different than saying, ‘Oops, it’s broken. Here you go.’ But I had no way to fix it either.

“No… no way, right? Anima… No…”

“…Haa.”

This was a no-win situation. Leaving it here felt wrong, but there was nothing I could do to help.

The frustrating air felt even more suffocating, sticking to my skin.

…Wait. Air.

Suddenly, I thought of the green orb in my pocket. It was thanks to the mana it emitted that I could breathe comfortably up until now.

Maybe this could supply mana to the spirit. It wouldn’t be much—just barely enough to keep it alive—but it might be sufficient to handle the immediate situation.

There was no time to hesitate. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the green orb, making up my mind.

With determination, I crushed it in my hand in front of the spirit.

Juice—or something hard to describe—spurted out, scattering mana in all directions.

– Mana detected.

Fortunately, my guess was right. The spirits, including Anima, reacted immediately, hungrily devouring the mana and starting to recover.

“Sniff… Anima…? Wait, the spirits…?”

Cecilia, still crying, noticed the commotion and turned her teary eyes toward me.

“…Is that… the World Tree’s fruit? How did you… No, more importantly, why does it lack the goddess’s blessing?!”

Oh, so this was the World Tree’s fruit… huh?

Wait a second, why does Dogeon even have something like this? Not that I have any right to ask, considering I took it without permission.

Was it some kind of protagonist privilege? I was confused. The thing I’d been carrying around all this time turned out to be a treasure like the World Tree’s fruit?

Then again, the World Tree was supposed to be in our continent. Its appearance was completely different from what I remembered.

“…I have no reason to explain it to you.”

I don’t even know myself.

Anyway, since I’d managed to fix Anima, it was probably time for me to leave.

“…Wait! Who exactly are you?!”

“You don’t need to know.”

What could I even say to that? She already knew I was Baek Hoyeon from the east, so what else was there?

I had no further reason to stay. My business was with her spirit, not her.

“Wait…! I still have questions—Oh, Anima! Are you okay?!”

I shoved Anima toward her, and she quickly turned her attention to it, fussing over its state. Understandable.

The thought of a friend, thought to be dead, coming back to life meant checking to ensure they were alright. If it were Dogeon, I would have dropped everything to do the same.

As I fled using a somewhat cowardly method, I was greeted by the foul air I hadn’t smelled in a long time.

…Would that thing still be in Dogeon’s locker? I should check on it while meeting him.

– – – –

Having learned why her subordinates, sent to the continent where her disciple had fled, were unable to respond, she was quite satisfied with the unexpected information.

She already knew her disciple was exceptional, but to think they would go so far as to reverse-engineer something she had created. Though pleased with her disciple’s growth, that sentiment soon faded.

This was her disciple’s achievement, not humanity’s.

Resetting the life-giving tree to create a species for humanity was undoubtedly a remarkable feat, even in her eyes, but it wasn’t of great significance to Byeolbi.

After all, it did not answer her question.

The question posed by the observer, a fragment of herself severed from her main body, was simple: Can humanity endure today’s suffering for tomorrow’s peace?

Out of compassion for the species, she had devised a plan to suppress humanity’s self-awareness for 3,000 years, allowing them to focus solely on technological advancement. Once they reached a sufficient level, she intended to restore their self-awareness.

Her disciple’s response to that question was swift. The very next day, they led humanity to flee to another continent and isolated it from the rest of the world.

Byeolbi did not pursue her disciple. Even as a discarded fragment of the main body, the observer remained an observer.

Non-interference above all else. That was the first directive of the observer.

And so, she waited.

She waited for the day her disciple would return to her with an answer.

However, she didn’t remain idle. She sent subordinates to investigate her disciple’s actions and even attempted to observe the continent herself.

Despite all attempts ending in failure, she felt no urgency. No matter how exceptional they were, her disciple was bound to return to her eventually.

Like a teacher patiently waiting for a runaway student, Byeolbi awaited her disciple with calm anticipation.

“…My lady. What are you pondering so deeply?”

“Ah, my lord. It’s nothing of consequence.”

While Jeongho actively prepared to conquer her disciple’s continent, that ambition was entirely his own.

His pure yet foolish dream of uniting all races and worlds under his rule to create a world free of war had been enough to pique Byeolbi’s interest in him.

“Soon… the day will come when we create a world without strife.”

“You surely understand better than anyone how impossible that is, my lord.”

Even in an ant colony, where self-awareness is almost nonexistent, conflicts arise. Attempting to unite self-aware humans under absolute power was, to her, an absurd notion.

Yet, Byeolbi couldn’t deny that it would be fascinating if he succeeded.

“I know. But I want to leave an empire to my child—one where no bloodshed or tragedy touches them. Wouldn’t it be fitting to end such suffering in my generation?”

Before they had a child, he had been a man who followed her blindly. But after becoming a father, he had transformed into someone who actively sought to achieve something meaningful. Byeolbi found this shift endlessly intriguing.

Though she wore the guise of a human, she did not fully grasp the essence of humanity.

“If that is what you believe, my lord, I shall assist you to the best of my ability.”

“Your support is most reassuring, my lady.”

Observing life forms was a truly enjoyable experience, Byeolbi thought.