Chapitre 47: 46th Move | Asimov
"So... what's the great change this time?" I asked, "A great war? Another fictitious 'Great Tenma War'?"
Rimuru himself tensed at the possibility of another war, probably imagining the inevitable death toll from another rampage done by Veldora on another nation's army.
The aftermath wasn't pretty for Falmuth's army nor was it for the landscape. A whole several kilometers square area was stripped bare of any vegetation, with rough terrain and plenty of carcasses, it became a feast for carrion eaters like crows, maggots, and flies.
About Falmuth, it was a shame that the enemy king didn't take to the battlefield himself. I thought that in a Medieval World such as the one I'm currently in, the kings are expected to have great martial prowess, with warrior kings being the expectation. However, after neutralizing the enemy army, I now see Gazel was more of an oddity rather than the norm.
"What? What are you talking about? We don't just declare war every time we meet; that's stupid. Don't know about others but I'm too lazy to fight a war anyways." Ramiris huffed.
"As someone who's been a Demon Lord longer than I have, what exactly is a Walpurgis?"
"Eh, usually, a Walpurgis is a tea party where all the Demon Lords gather and discuss stuff they find interesting or in rare cases, some urgent news like the upcoming next Great Tenma War."
The Great Tenma War?
"You mean that cyclical worldwide war that happens every half a millennium? Where angels descend from the heavens and commit genocides against the living?"
"Yep." Ramiris nodded, "Like humans, we Demon Lords must also discuss how to deal with the upcoming Great Tenma War in order to minimize our own losses. Although to be honest, most of the time it's those who own and care for a territory that's the most vocal about these discussions."
I'm sorry, what?
My face looked incredulous. The what? The Great Tenma War is real?!?
What?
Raising a hand to pause the conversation, "Hold on, are you telling me, that every 500 years, 'angels' from another Universe—" Let's face it, if angels do exist within this Universe then I'd have already found them considering how extensive the Noosphere's influence has reached, "—attack the human world?"
Ramiris nodded, "Though I'm not too sure about that 'other universe' part."
My eyes twitched.
[Silence Emotion: 80%]
Turning the dial on [Silenced Emotion] up so much helped me to beat back my rapidly rising internal panic at the emergence of a possibly peer-level threat.
Legends about the Great Tenma War always depicted angels as something akin to Veldora before he was trapped: a natural disaster that people simply must prepare for. Artworks depicting the Great Tenma Wars were some of the most famous ones in the world.
'The Loss of Innocence' is arguably the most famous artwork depicting the Great Tenma War. It depicts a young knight grieving over his dead friend clutched in his arms as people in heavenly white robes with wings fly above him, raining down deaths and destruction. The knight in question wore a white coat stained with dirt, among many other symbols showing how war destroys the child in a person.
The Loss of Innocence was one of the most prized possession of the Ingrassian royal family, as it was allegedly painted by King Reynes when he was young.
I never really imagined the Great Tenma War as actually real.
The children's game 'telephone' is an excellent example of how information gets distorted the more time it's shared. With 500 years of mostly oral history, truth becomes lies as certain important details become irrelevant while others that are less important get exaggerated in accordance with the agenda of the scribe or storyteller.
It's how myths and legends in my old World are made. Many modern-day cults use existing religious myths as a foundation before later branching off into their own interpretations, and medieval kings use the divine right given by the Christian God to justify their absolute rule, where 'God's mandation' gives legitimacy to the monarch.
In fact, the Crusades can be seen as Popes using the Bible for political gains.
This was why the Separation of Church and State was so important. A person can commit all sorts of atrocities if they can justify it inside their mind, like say sacking a whole city in the name of god.
I really did imagine Great Tenma War as a fiction used by those in power to justify their rule. I thought that maybe there was once an angel attack 500 years ago, but it got exaggerated into the present form of a civilization-ending disaster used by people like Carrion to justify his brutal rule since oppression beats death.
Well, then...
"For what reason do they attack?"
If I am to tackle this threat, I'll need to know more about their motivation first.
Ramiris infuriatingly, only shrugged. "Nobody knows. They've been attacking for a very long time, longer than even written history shows. Every 500 years they attack. Most of them are concentrated in cities where the most scientific development happens. Because of this, many of the oldest kingdoms have effectively shadow-banned all scientific progress and developed underground fortified bunkers in place to shelter their populations."
The fairy crossed her arms and then stared at me.
"Oh, and by the way, this Walpurgis may be of particular interest to you, Scientia. The Angels hate technology for some reason, and since your nation is definitely the most advanced in terms of technological and scientific development, the Angels will lay siege against your country. In fact, there's a not-so-insignificant chance that the Angels might only target your Republic and leave all places alone, if only because of the sheer difference."
I see, so that's why the march of progress was halted in this World. Because of a bi-millennial war, any technological development made over the 500-year inter-war period was lost when the Angels attacked once again.
Humans are resilient creatures, so how devastating must a Great Tenma War be if progress has been halted to a complete standstill?
I rubbed my forehead as I digested this information. So I've got this group of entities who hates technology, and if based on historical data, will attack sometime within the next two decade. They will focus heavily on the Jura Tempest Republic because of how I introduced technologies so advanced they resemble magic.
Ha...
I opened my mouth to ask another question—
"How strong are the Angels?" Rimuru spoke up and asked, taking the question right out of my mouth.
Ramiris adopted an expression of deep thought, "The strength of the Angels? Well, individually they aren't too strong. Using human metrics, the weakest is only B-rank but because of the sheer numbers, there hasn't been once in history that the Angels have been beaten back. The most that people managed to do was stall until the Great Tenma War ends about a week after it began."
"And... how many are there?"
Rimuru was almost afraid of the answer.
"Enough to replace the sun with their collective holy radiance."
"..."
Rimuru's eyes gained a faraway look in them. He planned what was to come next while I started to brood.
I'll say this again, I genuinely thought that the Great Tenma War was a myth, genuinely. I mean seriously, what would someone get out of keeping a primitive world primitive?
"Jeanne, Diablo, as Primordial Demons, do you two have anything to add?" I questioned.
Jeanne was the first to reply.
"Eh, nothing too much. Never really fought against the angels, so I can't really tell."
"My Lady, have no worry, we can and will easily beat back the Angels with no problem."
Diablo tried to sound assuring, but it does nothing.
Is this why Luminism, despite its similarity with Christianity, never had any Angels? In their holy book, it was said that God Luminous interacts with the world through Holy Magic and its avatars, True Heroes.
I initially dismissed this lack of winged people as mere happenstance, but it seemed to be not the case.
I assume that since they are called Anges, then they must have a 'Heaven' for themselves. Depending on what interpretations I'm dealing with here, at the very worst, I could be fighting against a Type-V Universal Civilization whose reach has spread across multiple spacetime branes, an interdimensional scale.
This Type-V Civilization must also have some kind of dimension travel technology or magic that is much more sophisticated and more advanced than anything I have.
A lot of that is speculation of a worst-case scenario, so I'm next expecting them all to be accurate. At the same time, I don't have a lot to go off of, thusly, it is best to plan for the worst while hoping for the best.
Through the Noosphere, I checked my grand fleet out there in the intergalactic void and gazed at the current armaments.
It's not enough.
My ships that can crack worlds with ease for the upcoming battle aren't enough. So then, some trump cards are needed.
No one in the room noticed as I created a new executable command under the title 'Hyperweapons'. These will be my ultimate trump cards. The supreme expression of my wrath.
With that done, my mind returned back on speculating about the Angels.
Occam's Razor suggests the reason why the Angels are attacking here was to keep a potential future competitor down. That can't be all that is since a Type-V Civilization can easily permanently end this threat by pushing the planet I'm on into its local star.
So something is halting their hands.
What could it be? Who could enforce rules on a Type-V Civilization? One that dwarfs even me?
Or... a more likely answer is that it's for entertainment. For some reason, this Type-V Civilization is entertained by the act of primitives trying to survive against an army of Angels.
You really can't predict what an alien is going to do, especially one that's advanced enough to be a Type-V. While many astronomers in my old World use the metaphor of how ants (us) couldn't understand the human metropolitan area (the wider universe) even if they try their best, the truth of the matter is far more alien.
Ants and humans at least have a common ancestor over 600 million years ago, and common behavioral denominators resulting from the same environmental pressure like requiring to eat food or reproduction. A proper Type-III Civilization whose reach encompasses only a galaxy would be more alien to us than we are to bacteria. Now try to imagine one that's two levels above that.
For the first time in a while, I felt existentially small, and insignificant, all my greatest achievements being nothing more than a transient spark that flashes brightly before quickly burning out.
But, then this raises another question: why this planet specifically?
Why is it that no other alien worlds or Earth nested in other Universes get this bi-millennia genocidal treatment? Is it because of the magicules? This world did have what was probably the most magicule in the universe.
Despite my urge to blame magicules as the culprit for attracting the attention of a Type-V Civilization, the corporate side in me won out by saying 'correlation does not equal causation'.
There are too many unknowns.
"What about the Eastern Empire?" Rimuru asked, "If the reports made by Scientia were right, they have advanced technology. Why wouldn't the Angels attack them?"
"They do?"
Ramiris was surprised.
Before Rimuru could respond, several holographic displays materialized all around Ramiris depicting the weapons of the Eastern Empire. From rolls upon rolls of magitanks that are superior to every tank in my old World to hovering armored blimps that populated the sky during a recent military parade, I showed most of the advanced weapons within the Eastern Empire's arsenal.
Although being only around the Second World War in terms of technology level, the Eastern Empire's military hits above its weight class into being easily comparable, if not superior, to modern armies with its application and integration of magic.
"Huh. They do." Then in a much quieter tone, "Rudra... has the Game ended?"
Jeanne, who was actually paying attention to the holographic displays instead of the usual 'being in her own world', excitedly remarked, "Well, now I can't wait to turn those armored tanks into iron coffins. Hey, Lady Scientia, if they don't declare war on us in the next year, could you please send me over so I could, I don't know, do some sabotage?"
Diablo sighed in response to how simple-minded Jeanne was being.
"Of course, you're thinking about destroying something new. Has it never crossed your mind that maybe it's possible to use it?"
Before the two could start bickering again like old rivals, I pushed forward with another topic.
"I'm assuming that this new Walpurgis would be primarily talking about me?"
"Obviously," Ramiris stated, "But to be honest, it may not be Walpurgis itself that's interesting, more of who had approved this one."
I raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"
"Now, as you may know, in order for a Walpurgis Banquet to even commence, three Demon Lords must approve of it, that three being Frey, Milim, and of course, Clayman. However, what's interesting and even unique for this Walpurgis was the fourth Demon Lord who gave Clayman the approval."
There's an edge of caution in Ramiris' voice as if she's talking about something that's taboo or sickening like war crimes. Taking a pause to look around, Ramiris finally said the name of the fourth Demon Lord.
"The Lord of Darkness, Guy Crimson."
The effect on the room was instantaneous at the mere mention of that name.
The usual smug confidence that Diablo surrounded himself with was gone, and so was the equally smug ever-prevalent smile on Jeanne's lips, both disappeared like the morning dew as both stilled at the utterance of that name.
"Guy, huh?"
Jeanne's voice was playful as if she looked forward to meeting Guy.
The tension in the room was thick enough that one can almost see it. It persisted until Rimuru next asked, "One of the oldest Demon Lords?"
Ramiris gave a sad sigh.
"He's not the type of person you can just mess with and expect to get out alive. Guy Crimson is old, he's one who we consider a 'first-generation Demon Lord'. He's—" The fairy was silenced as an aura leaked out from Diablo.
There was a heavy pressure in the room. I felt as if an anvil was on my chest, where it could barely expand.
I think had I never experienced that THING or Veldora's aura, I would be intimidated.
"Kukukuku~, I see that Rouge has taken an interest in my Mistress, hehe!"
Diablo chuckled darkly as he cupped his chin.
Suddenly, the room was saturated by a desire to kill made physical. It was great enough that it eclipsed Diablo's own aura. It was familiar.
"So then..." The voice was said in an overly sweet tone dripping with contempt, "This 'Guy Crimson' wants to kill Scientia?"
The two auras were like crashing waves. Two wavefronts constantly coming at me. Rimuru, Ramiris, and mine stopped all motion, frozen like a person stuck deciding on whether to choose fight or flight. We were all being battered by the two different sources of killing intent actualized.
Then a third aura joined in, making my knees feel weak as if I could collapse at any moment. The third aura belonged to Jeanne, who always seems to join in any conflict even if it didn't involve her out of pure enjoyment.
"Grrr..."
Fucking battle maniacs. Now that room was the battleground for a three-way aura war, with each of those individuals vying for domination, and it appeared that Arcueid was winning.
'[Path to getting them to stop]'
[1 Step]
[Step 1: activate your [Demon Lord's Aura]]
Like tipping over a bucket of water and having the liquid spread across a watercolor painting not yet fully dried, my own aura washed over others like a flash flood. Rimuru and Ramiris instantly dropped against the table as if gravity itself was suddenly several times stronger. Both were groaning out in pain before I closed my aura once everything seemed to have settled.
The two gasped for air as if they were underwater for a long time.
[Demon Lord's Aura] was apparently the 'crown' of a Demon Lord. It is the most widely accepted evidence that one has gone through the Harvest Festival. Me never getting one was apparently a mistake, one remedied by [Contessa] soon after it was discovered.
Once the fairy recovered, I asked her another really important question.
"Ramiris. Why did Guy Crimson, one of the most elusive Demon Lords, vote yes to this Walpurgis Banquet?"
"Well, even if I've been a part of the Demon Lord Council for longer than most people, I, uh, don't really know. I doubt anyone other than Guy himself knows. He's one of the most secretive Demon Lords out there, he prefers his privacy like a fish prefers water. I mean, for crying out loud! His territory takes up the entirety of the Frozen Continent up north and all that, usually spending all day with his Velzard or messing with the humans down south, either fighting or fucking. The demon became super free-spirited after the end of Relentless's Rampage."
"Uh-huh..." I trailed off. There's a feeling of discomfort in my stomach as if I had just watched a sickening video of a live air strike in Syria.
How does one respond to that? He definitely was critical in defeating my... ancestor? Progenitor? My predecessor. Given how it took an alliance of the strongest individuals in the World to beat my predecessor, it gave me hope that maybe I alone could finally defeat them all with my technology when they finally registered my appearance.
As for the Angels... well, finally there's something to work towards. I'll align nearly the entirety of my Noosphere toward the goal of eradicating this potentially multiversal existential threat. I'll mobilize all my industries, enough that the whole night sky will be dimmer by the time I'm done. Most forbidden technologies have been authorized.
'Execute: Contingency Plan M-22-20'
>ConPlan M-22-20 is now in effect.
"Alright, that's a lot of revelation, but I think the most important thing right now is when is Walpurgis happening?"
Rimuru asked once he had recovered enough.
"Clayman said that Walpurgis would be happening on the night of the new moon, and the topic is about you and how, by spreading your technology and science across the world, you are effectively hastening the next Great Tenma War. He also accused you of trying to make the next Great Tenma War even worse than the previous one."
New moon? That's in about a week's time. As the others continued to talk, I started thinking about Clayman's accusation and came to the conclusion that he isn't incorrect in his assessment. I do want to spread my technology. I do want to let the march of progress move once more. What he's wrong about is that I didn't mean to hasten the next Great Tenma War since I considered the Angels to be nothing more than a myth. If I had known about them I probably would've been more strategic—
That raises another issue: what if the Angels already knew what I was doing? What's to say they couldn't observe the entire universe, so my every movement was tracked?
Against a foe with superior technology, one should never disregard seemingly fantastical possibilities.
My eyes widened as I felt a freezing ice cube slide down my back. Given that I'm still alive and no Angels have so far attacked...
The scariest and worst possible explanation, one that I am really hoping isn't the case, for this was that I'm so small compared to these Angels, it simply isn't worth the extra effort to exterminate me before the start of the Great Tenma War.
"..."
Wait a minute, don't I have an Ultimate Skill specialized in precognition? As in, seeing into the future?
'[Contessa], run a path on how to win the Great Tenma War.'
[Path to Winning the Great Tenma War]
[32,091,562,901 steps]
Shit, that's a lot of steps. At least it's less than getting the Primordial Demons to betray me, and it proved to me it's possible to win against the Angels, making the worst possibility unlikely.
"Oh and by the way Scientia, when did you become a Demon Lord?" Ramiris suddenly asked me, causing me to drop the Path, "I'm mostly insinuated from world affairs. You're still a Perfect Homunculus like the last time we met in the Dwelling, and based on that interaction, I didn't really peg you for someone that would slaughter over 10,000 humans for power."
Rimuru and I stilled into a statue at her mentioning of 'Perfect Homunculus'.
Probably the only reason I'm not going ballistic right now was because the rest of the Republic now knows I'm a Perfect Homunculus. Closing my eyes and sighing, I opened them again and stared directly into Ramiris' tiny ones.
"So, you knew beforehand?"
My tone was dry, contrasting heavily with how animated Ramiris' was.
"What? That you were a Perfect Homunculus? Of course! It's so obvious even, enough that it's an insult to NOT know that you were perfection manifested upon the face of this World." Ramiris shrugged, as if to put further emphasis on what she was saying is really obvious, "I simply had the good manner to not reveal the information on the spot since you didn't introduce yourself as a Perfect Homunculus, merely a normal, rogue one. I think everyone here knows what happened to the last one."
The part about Relentless was left unsaid.
My lips pursed as I placed a finger on it. In a neutral, and controlled tone, "It was when an assassin from the Western Holy Church assassinated Rimuru that I decided to become a Demon Lord. I have no regrets about taking the lives of those 50,000 humans—"
[Lie]
"—to fuel my ascension—"
[Lie]
"—and resurrecting Rimuru."
[Li—]
'Shut up.'
"As the Metaphysical Laws that governed reality were weakened, I use this small window of opportunity and rebuilt Rimuru by literally remaking him with his Essence."
"Wait, what are Essences?"
"The atom of the Soul."
Ramiris' jaw instantly dropped as she looked at me with an expression that screamed disbelief.
"Wait a freaking minute— YOU RESURRECTED THIS SLIME—" The fairy pointed at Rimuru, "—USING HIS SPIRITRONS?"
I'm reminded of the fact that alien cultures have different words referencing the same item. For example, while I may call the radiation that comes from a black hole as it decays 'Hawking Radiation', another alien race would name it something else.
Spiritrons for me is something entirely different from Essence, but I think both I and Ramiris are referring to the same thing.
"Of course—"
"NO!" Ramiris interjected obnoxiously like a spoiled brat, "Don't you get it? No one before you has EVER truly resurrected someone from just their Essence! The only one who comes close was maybe that Ultimate Skill user who specialized in Resurrection or maybe how True Dragons always return no matter what— How the hell would the Harvest Festival help you—" She seemed to struggle for words for a moment, before screaming out in frustration and stomping on the table.
"GRRRRRR!"
Once again the sensors within the table barely registered a hit.
Ramiris flew toward me with her hands out pointing at me in an accusing manner, akin to if I was one of the suspects in an investigation and she was a witness asked to find the guilty.
"You. You are impossible. Impossible I say! Just like Him, you are IMMMMMMMPPPPOOOSSSSI— eek!" In a mere instant, Arcueid appeared next to Ramiris and snatched the fairy out of the air.
"Let me go!" Ramiris slammed her fist against Arcueid's hand uselessly.
The True Ancestor was looking at the tiny fairy with a look of concealed disdain.
Seeing that her effort was useless, Ramiris then started to shadow punch Arcueid letting out some moves that has [Martial Artist] groaning in pain.
All bark and no bite, the specialty wants to say.
Well, the size difference already made her useless.
"Wait a minute... what are you?"
Ramiris started staring deeper into Arcueid. Her eyes were looking at the True Ancestor per se, more like they were looking at something beyond it, like a person staring down at a ravine 30,000 meters up in the air and focusing on the very bottom.
"You're... like me... but not? You are a spirit, a solid spirit— Wait what are you doing!?"
A Doorway appeared next to the vampire, a Doorway that connects to the outside if the information given to me through the Noosphere was any indication.
It seemed that Arcueid wants to throw Ramiris out.
"Arcueid, as much as I'd love for you to kick Ramiris out, we still need her," I said and placed a hand on the forearm holding Ramiris.
"HEY!"
The True Ancestor turned to me with a look of puzzlement, "Why? I mean, you got all the things you needed, right? So why do you still need this annoyance here?"
"Yeah, well— she's apparently a real, bonafide Demon Lord, one of the 'First-Generations'. As a new Demon Lord, I would definitely need allies. You throwing her out would rid me of an easy ally."
Arcueid looked unconvinced until my face morphed into a more pleading look, "Please?"
The True Ancestor's lips pursed, as many thoughts flashed across her eyes until finally, a glint that I do not like shone through those two rubies. It almost made me regret pleading with her.
With a soft, gentle smile that looks very out of place given our current circumstances, Arcueid leaned forward and whispered sensually into my ears, "Give me a cute nickname then."
I took a sharp breath in. Being so close, I could almost feel Arcueid's body heat emanating from her.
For some reason, I felt incredibly uncomfortable at such a prospect, to such a degree that it doesn't make any logical sense. It felt as if I'm tainting something sacred, but at the same time, giving your partner a nickname is a common tradition for those that are really close.
Wait, "You saw this happen in a book, didn't you?" I gave Arcueid a half-hearted glare that possessed no hostility behind it.
"Of course... Tia~."
A strangled noise came out of my throat. I could feel my skin crawl underneath the Block-Form Singularity Mathematics, which is currently in the form of a white lab coat.
A snicker came from Rimuru.
Giving him a sideways glance without actually moving my head, I saw the slime covering his mouth while his shoulder shook.
My lips thinned as my face burned in humiliation. At the very least these people, other than Ramiris, are pretty close to me.
"Fine. Arc. You happy now?"
Arcueid's face blossomed into a beautiful smile that seems to almost light up the room. Then she promptly released the fairy by throwing her to the side.
Ramiris flew off and smacked into one of the computer monitors that filled the walls of the room. [Mathematics] made a calculation of the force of the impact to be no more than a flick of a child's finger.
Seriously, how did Ramiris become a Demon Lord?!
"Grr— Listen here, you dumb vampire spirit! I am Ramiris, a Demon Lord! The Fairy of the Labyrinth and I've had enough of this disrespect—" The bravado that once filled Ramiris' voice disappeared once Arcueid glanced at the blonde fairy.
Mouth agape, Ramiris muttered, "You're... you're a World?"
The tiny fairy went limp and fell unconscious.
Right before she could hit the ground, Diablo caught Ramiris in his hands. Turning to face me, the demon asked, "Shall I dispose of this annoyance?"
I gave Diablo that 'look' a disappointed parent might give to a child who's asking a stupid question. In turn, Diablo looked as if he wanted to disappear right this instant while Jeanne smiled in amusement.
"I think this meeting has adjourned. Rimuru, you shouldn't have any issue dealing with Falmuth, do you?"
Rimuru waved a hand in an attempt to put any worries to rest. Confidence is clear in his voice, "It's fineeeeee. I can deal with a medieval kingdom no problem. I'd be worried if I couldn't."
It's been a while since I last had a dreadful feeling in my gut.
"Hmm, just in case. Diablo, please assist Rimuru in pacifying Falmuth. Having eons of experience, you are to serve in an advisory role, a consultant for things dealing with magic. We can discuss what to do with the kingdom after their surrender. Jeanne, legends say you are one of the most powerful Primordial Demons out there, and the absolute most destructive. I hereby place you as Rimuru's bodyguard. Under no circumstances is he to ever get hurt." I stared into the Yellow Primordial's ocean-blue eyes, her not flinching at all from the stare, "Do you understand?"
Jeanne looked like she took my words seriously... until a teasing smile appeared on her lips. The Primordial's fists came together hard enough to disturb the air inside this closed-off room.
"Don't worry about your boy toy," before I could reject that statement, "Just leave it to me, Tia~"
I recoiled in shock as a shiver went down my spine at her use of that nickname. Diablo meanwhile looked scandalous while Jeanne laughed at the reaction she managed to get out of me.
Embarrassment burned on my face at her using such a nickname.
[Alert]
I wanted to sink into a hole until [Contessa] alerted me to look 100 degrees to my right. Obeying those instructions, I saw a dark aura emanate from Arcueid as a shadow covered her eyes, only the tiniest bit of blood-red can be seen through that veil of blonde hair.
Oh no.
"Welp, I'm off. Come on, Diablo, Mr. President." Jeanne stood up and caused her chair to screech against the floor.
The demonic duo and Rimuru left in the next moment in a snap of air, leaving me alone with a jealous Arcueid.
Damn!
The True Ancestor approached like a scorned woman would with their husband. Once she reached me, instead of doing anything physical, Arcueid engulfed me in a hug and started repeating the word "Tia," like it was a mantra.
"Tia, Tia, Tia, Tia, Tia,"
"Um, Arcueid, what are you doing?"
"I'm repeating the nickname so that you'll forget that someone else used it. Tia, Tia, Tia, Tia, Tia..."
For some reason, I found that to be adorable. However, it's slowly starting to get annoying to keep on hearing my nickname. So materializing a holographic interface behind Arcueid but right in front of me, I checked the time to find it at 9:38 pm.
"You... still wanna see the play? There's still time."
Arcueid became quiet for a few moments, "Sure. I have a slight feeling that I won't be able to see you for a few days after tonight, so we are going to spend as much time as possible in each other's company, my Tia~"
The True Ancestor ended that last part with sensual playfulness.
Oh god, why did I give her the idea of a nickname?
_____________________________________________
Later, the Room of Otherworldly Objects.
After finishing the play and having a late-night dinner with Arcueid, I decided that it was finally time to renegotiate the contract with Shizue. The conversation the two of us had was something that was best left unrepeated, but the end result was that she will remain in my employment.
Afterward, I teleported into the deepest, darkest depth of the Citadel, a place completely separate from the monochrome fortress that protected me.
The moment I stepped out of that Doorway, I was greeted by the sight of a long and plain hallway that seemed to stretch onward toward infinity. What's more attention-grabbing was that I saw a version of myself, back turned to me, around three meters in front of my physical presence down the hall.
Turning to look behind me, I saw another version of myself, currently turning around to look behind themselves, also around three meters down the hall.
It was as if there were two mirrors on both ends of the hallway.
By itself, the hallway didn't have anything of note, and thus wouldn't look out of place in the middle of the basement of an office building, what with the floor, ceiling, and walls being made out of this grey, concrete-like material and neon lights hanging from the ceiling.
This... was the result of an expert manipulation of spacetime itself; the creation of a manifold; a tiny hypersphere; an infinitely looping hallway that'll trap whoever tries to get those Otherworldly Objects I got from the Dimensional Bore.
The easiest way to break out of this manifold is probably using a black hole. A gravitational singularity has the effect of writing any wrongs in spacetime. These extreme objects can't be transported using Doormaker nor can they be stored using a pocket dimension. Not even space magic can affect them.
So I simply moved down the halls, my boots echoing against the walls. My reflections did the same.
The instant I moved more than three meters, the volume of space I'm in started to distort. Everything split and started turning and twisting as if I was inside a kaleidoscope. Lines branched off and split into multiples, colors changed, and my reflections quickly disappeared.
Higher dimensions. My brain couldn't really comprehend those higher dimensions when I've lived in a three-dimensional universe all my life.
It would've been almost maddening had the Mathematic not automatically censored out most of my field of view.
Then, a wall made up of darkness so all-consuming one can easily think they just came next to an Event Horizon replaced that kaleidoscope.
A few more steps and everything returned to its Euclidean nature, aligning itself with the proper spacetime after I passed through a pitch-black Domain Wall.
Finally, I found what I was looking for.
The golden sword held within its very pretty scabbard.
It's currently contained within an invisible plasma window, held aloft by magnetic fields.
I turned off the plasma window using [Mekhane] and had the magnetic field propel the sheathed blade into my hand.
My fingers traced the item with a delicate touch. According to Arcueid, this can be seen as her 'cousin' in a way, and when I asked if I could wield it, she gave me her blessing if I managed to force it into submission.
The blade, in short, is alive in a way.
My fingers started to sink into the scabbard like the teeth of a lion into the throat of an antelope.
According to Arcueid, no man-made object should be able to even scratch this, but I'm using an artificial black hole.
The golden and blue metal warped against my armor, a piece of technology that stands as one of the many peaks of what I'm capable of, what with it being able to effortlessly survive the full brunt of a supernova.
The air in the room started to swirl. Magicules erupted from the scabbard as it attempted to push me away, causing my lab coat to flutter about like a flag in a thunderstorm. It caused such a stir within the room that the Mathematics registered wind speeds of over 300 kilometers an hour.
It was useless. Using but a thought, the white lab coat around my body stopped fluttering about.
With my left hand fully secured itself against the sheath, my right grabbed onto the handle of the sword.
Then, I flared my magicules and started pouring them into the blade.
The sword rejected it, but I push onward nonetheless.
When I realized it wasn't enough, I reached out through the Noosphere toward a particular Star Lifter about 29 lightyears away and diverted its mined resources my way.
A crimson ovoid surfaced from the depth of the Mathematics and started spreading out its tendrils. Red lines bloomed and filled every square inch of my body like vines on an abandoned home.
Using [Unlimited Alchemy], I started transmuting billions of tons worth of material into magicules, with only about 10% of that being recycled into fuel for [Unlimited Alchemy].
Very soon, the blade started to blacken, and the sheath further glowed with holy light as it attempted to fight back against my encroaching influence.
It was useless. My Noosphere mines more iron in a single nanosecond than humanity has ever mined in its entire history.
The darkness continued to spread, first from where I'm holding. The darkness ate away at the blue and gold, with the two colors melting away like ice placed in a frying pan.
The sword and sheath, who must've realized it was fighting a losing battle, attempted to appeal to the remanent of the human in me. Through the light of hope, it showered me with the glory of humanity— our successes and achievements both big and small, from the first nameless human who artificially made a fire, to the first blacksmith that made the first bronze sword that will be used to kill a fellow man, to the first true usage of Thomas Newcomen's atmospheric engine, to the site of the Trinity Test when mankind first challenged god, to the Moon Landing when Neil Armstrong said his famous lines, this beautiful blade— nay, I should finally start calling it by its real name: Excalibur— showed me the power of humanity.
It would have an amazing sight that would trigger feelings of hopefulness for the future...
If it wasn't already dwarfed by what I've done.
I advanced from the Medieval Age to the Atomic Age in less than a month. My territory is measured in how many billions of galaxies it contains. My greatest scientific achievements put whatever humanity has done into perspective: merely apes using rocks.
And so, I brought the sheathed blade close to my chest before clenching the handle as hard as I can. By now, the blackness was spreading throughout the blade like wildfire on a dry summer day.
I pulled.
"RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
A single scream of effort later, and the sword singed.
*Shing*
The blade was fully unleashed. Waves of concentrated magicules went haywire. They danced around me chaotically like virtual particles in a vacuum before starting to carve deep gashes on the wall, floor, and ceiling and even destroying the original container used to house the scabbard and by extension, the blade.
Instead of golden, the blade was now ebony, only interrupted periodically by red lines strung all over the blade in a clear and concise manner. The order was completely contrasting the slowly receding crimson veins on my body.
By my will, the sword immediately ceased unleashing its magicules and returned to being a normal blade, well as normal as such a blade of its caliber could be.
Bringing it closer, I examined it in detail.
It needs a new name, Excalibur doesn't quite fit it.
"Hmm..." I hummed to myself, before snapping my fingers, "I've got it, you shall henceforth be named...
...Asimov."
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AN: a rather short chapter for today, though the Chekhov's Gun about summoning Excalibur and completing the Alter look is finally complete!
Man, I wonder how many of you guys knew that it was Excalibur? Like some guessed it right.
Also yes, Asimov is in reference to Isaac Asimov, arguably the greatest science fiction writer in history, creating many of the modern-day tropes like the Galactic Empire and the Three Laws of Robotics, the latter of which is thought of as the beginning point for how legit AI should be programmed to obey.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone