Chapter 444
Chapter 444
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: Into the Storm (3)
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...Crunch!
Warlord snapped out of his dazed mind at the sound of something crumbling under his foot.
[Port City Semey / Ren]
It looked like a signpost that had been standing at the city's entrance.
Charred black and split helplessly in two, it seemed just like the fate of the port city that had crumbled in his hands.
"...It ended faster than I thought."
"Among existing water-affinity mages, no one has reached a higher realm than you. To a port city reliant on naval forces, your presence is nothing short of a disaster."
As always, World, who accompanied him at his side, handed him a neatly organized document.
It had been a while since she'd stopped using system messages. She wanted Warlord to forget her existence even more.
"Useful prisoners include about 14 shipwright technicians, 20 magitech engineers, one master-level Shard Knight, and eight regular knight-level ones. Especially the technicians—we captured their families along with them while taking the city, so getting their cooperation shouldn't be too hard."
"..."
"Using the Brasstoll family's soul magic, we can turn about half of the knight forces into puppets. It'll be a huge help for our side, which lacks elite troops, but should we handle their treatment as usual?"
"...Yeah. Kill them all."
She knew the answer, but World always made sure Warlord decided the fate of all prisoners himself.
"...Playing shallow tricks."
"Tricks that you accept entirely."
All to make him feel the deaths of even more people vividly.
'Responsibility. Guilt. Sense of duty. All very useful tools for shaping you.'
Yes, shaping.
As she watched Warlord's existence get chipped away bit by bit with each fragment absorbed, she carefully reshaped those raw memories to mold him into something that fit her plans better.
Of course, it wasn't easy, and even now, with him having forgotten almost all of his past, not a single part of Warlord had been shaped to her will...
But the System wasn't impatient.
She kept asking, probing endlessly.
She enjoyed these question-and-answer sessions with Warlord.
"Don't try to butter me up, World. I haven't forgotten that you're my enemy, walking the same path only up to the process, but destined to betray me and steal the fruit at the end."
"Yes. Of course. Right before your task is complete, we'll part ways. Or put another way, we'll travel together until then."
"Keeping a predetermined traitor like you by my side is only to use your competence."
"You know that without me, you won't complete your task before your memories wear away. We've talked about this countless times. That we're enemies who have no choice but to go together. You need me, and I need you. That's all."
Dry questions and prickly answers.
Since she knew Warlord's past, she could compare his current self—revealed through those answers—with his past self.
How much had been chipped away where. And from now on, where she needed to apply her hand.
"Come to think of it, you just call me World."
"...What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing. Never mind."
Emotions were still a work in progress, but at this moment, World thought she could define what she felt.
Faint, but after vast data, calculations, and painstaking effort, the emotion upon seeing the finished result.
'Should I record satisfaction as this kind of emotion?'
At some point, Warlord had stopped calling her System.
The moment she confirmed that her chisel had sunk into the diamond-hard mind of 'Professor.'
She could feel the certainty, along with the emotion seeping into her data-formed personality.
"We really aren't wrong after all."
"...You, the world's tuner like a dragon, in this situation where you're rampaging to destroy the world."
"Yes. Of course."
Gedroits, the Creator, was not wrong.
Perhaps the 'error' wasn't even worth calling an error—it might be another plan ordained by Creator Gedroits.
Perhaps the duties given to his machine intelligence weren't all that we knew.
Perhaps, unlike other administrators, she as the 'System' was something special to Gedroits.
All assumptions, but the System moved forward with her own conviction.
...Static—
She had one record that other administrators didn't.
A single external recording found while scouring all of GG's data to fix the error within her system authority after it occurred.
A video she'd replayed so many times the data wore out, forcing her to copy it repeatedly.
=========
"This is a record not even revealed to the completer."
"My final record, meant only for my own self-reproach. Like cursing at yourself in the mirror."
"If anyone sees this, then perhaps..."
.
.
.
.
=========
Static—!
That had made her who she was now.
So she wasn't broken.
I am the only intelligence that has touched the true intent of the great Creator Gedroits.
"Warlord. I think I like you more than I expected."
"Now you're resorting to ridiculous tricks."
That's why World could face the Player without hesitation.
The System gazed at the Player who'd come to call her World and gave a genuine smile.
It wouldn't be long now.
For the Player's plan, and hers.
The moment when, after absorbing over half of GG's data souls, the Player's will would represent all of GG.
In the end, this world would persist forever.
****
Hyde was in a really bad mood right now.
'What? Storm Hill is gone?'
'Gone or not, that whole area got smashed to bits last night. You went to Wind Hall without even knowing that?'
He couldn't believe the tavern keeper's words, so he asked the surrounding drunks again, but they all replied matter-of-factly that only traces of Storm Hill remained.
'Excuse me, which way is Storm Hill...'
'Ptoo! You blind or legless? If you came to this city right next to it, figure it out yourself!'
'Hey, can I ask for directions? By any chance, Storm—'
'D-don't ask me! I d-don't know!'
'...Um—'
'Aaaah! Not my kid! Please, spare my child!'
He'd only asked for directions, but he got fierce, terrified reactions in return.
"Hey, you Mage Empire scum! Wanna see us?"
"...Me?"
"Yeah, who else reeks of Mage Empire oil around here!"
"Quietly accept the judgment of justice, and we'll at least hear your last words!"
Somehow he'd reached the fork leading to Storm Hill, only for some ragtag thugs to latch onto him.
"Grrr. Hyde. Those guys, you know?"
"Yeah, exactly. Specialty product of the Western Imperial Territory."
The men blocking our group could be described as...
"Grrr. Those, knights?"
"Say that in front of a real knight, and his gauntlet'll fly at you, Egwil."
Fake knights. No, idiots pretending to be knights.
Caw, ptoo!
"Didn't you hear us...? Or not! Ahem!"
"That thing on your belt, it's a magitech weapon, right?"
"Yeah. And?"
Shing!
"Bringing that cursed product of magitech to the sacred land of knights! Unforgivable! You might be remnants of the Mage Empire, so hand over all your possessions for inspection!"
"Y-yeah! We'll honorably dispose of it for you! Purely for safety!"
Thug-like behavior mixed with awkward noble speech.
Spouting honor despite being useless, clad in mismatched cheap scrap metal plate mail that didn't even fit properly—not enough, so one had gauntlets and boots, another had shoulder plates dangling with iron sheets, bizarre sights all around.
"Plate mail, honor, quick to draw swords, magitech hatred. The epitome of 'chivalry zealots.'"
"Even a hundred years ago, 'knight' was a name unfit for the likes of them..."
"Well, what can you do about history."
"Definitely the kind of look that breeds bad prejudices against humans."
"Sometimes I envy beastkin. They have no knights due to racial pride, so no dealing with idiots like these."
That was our group's assessment of their pitiful, almost pathetic appearance—and we said it loud enough for the two chivalry zealots blocking our path to hear.
"W-what? We're... what?"
"Daring to insult Western Imperial knights! We were going to spare your lives out of pity for the weak, but you've broken a knight's patience!"
"We'll cut out those tongues that mocked chivalry and hang them at the gates!!"
"Scum seeking power without effort! You're the same breed as Warlord! Die cursing yourselves!!!"
The two self-proclaimed knights lost their reason with surprising speed and charged.
"Im-impressive. Impressive in every way."
"Grrr. Can't even run properly."
"Seems like the armor's too heavy."
I stepped forward willingly, full of admiration for those who'd soiled our eyes to the end with their pathetic charge.
I had some built-up stress anyway.
"Huff, huff, dieee!"
Splurt!
"Oof, can't pass out now."
I needed someone who could properly tell me about this area anyway.
Splat!
"S-Sir Geulton! This coward struck before we could even salute!"
"Hey, we're unarmed—think there's salutes or sword greetings? It's fine to swing at unarmed civilians?"
"Eyaa! I'll cut that filthy tongue! Imperial Sword Style 15! Waterfowl Slash!"
Thwack!
"Arrrgh!"
One hit each—not even full strength, more like shaking off my hand—and they went flying.
"Ughhh... Our knights, beaten by a magitech spy..."
"K-kill! A knight doesn't beg for life!"
"Oh, really?"
Smack!
"Guhhh..."
"For real?"
Smack! Thwack!
"You've got spirit! I like it!"
"Ugh! Ack! Gack! Guh!"
To these guys with expressions rivaling mythic heroes, I gladly engraved the preciousness of life deep into their bones.
'No big deal if they die.'
Local thugs at a glance. Even scrap metal like that would've cost a fortune to gather enough for armor. No way these types saved up honestly penny by penny, so they probably bought it with robbery money.
They'd drawn swords and charged anyway, so killing them would've been standard.
"Sp-spare us! Pleeease!"
"Uwaaaah!"
"Hey, didn't you beg to die? We're almost there—just finish it?"
"W-what're you askin' us to dooo!"
"Really? On your knightly honor?"
"Uh..."
Swipe—
"Yes! Y-yes yes yes! Anything! Just spare us!"
"Reaaally~?"
I lightly raised my fist, and the self-proclaimed knights nodded like mad.
Their instant shift to cooperation made me grin as I pulled them to their feet.
"Alright, spill everything you know about Wind Hall and the situation in the Western Imperial Territory!"
"E-everything?"
"Everything. Why the civilians—excluding the tavern folk—shunned us so much, what exactly happened at Storm Hill, why local thugs like you have such decent durability despite zero skill, where you learned swordsmanship."
"Th-that's..."
"One more. What was that about Warlord—tell me all of it."
Beating them felt surprisingly good, which puzzled me. Their actions were peak idiocy, yet their bodies seemed basically trained. Even that waterfowl slash they did sitting in front of people looked properly executed, salute and all.
Above all, they'd shown hostility toward Warlord. The enemy of my enemy is a friend, so these guys felt off to just kill outright.
"S-Sir Geulton... Hear that? He wants all the forces and info on the Western Imperial Territory..."
"W-we're Mage Empire spies, he'll kill us... We'll tell everything... No choice but to tell..."
They seemed to misunderstand my demand for info and wailed pitifully, but.
"So, you don't wanna?"
"N-no!"
"We'll do it! Pleeease let us!"
Whatever they thought didn't matter to me. I just needed the info.
"...Yeah, definitely getting prejudices against humans."
"Was following this guy the right call..."
"Miss Rock."
...There were some negative opinions during the process of stripping the self-proclaimed knights naked and stuffing their seized armor into my inventory, but anyway.
"Learned from real knights?"
"Yes! The rites of chivalry, its spirit, basic body techniques!"
"E-even we learned that much!"
The chivalry zealot pals in their underwear proved more valuable than expected.
"Split knight factions at odds. And Warlord's forces wedging in..."
From what they said, the Western Imperial Territory wasn't as peaceful as it looked.
****