Chapter 132
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 132
Chapter Title: 13th Floor - Lv. 775 Lava Hammer Assault Brigade (3)
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It should have been a perfect encirclement, but even so, the Imperial forces withdrew without a fight.
I couldn't make sense of it, but I accompanied them all the way to the Federation's garrison anyway.
Unlike the Empire, which did things however they pleased, or the Alliance with its species-specific standards, the Federation's gear was rigorously standardized.
A bizarre nation formed by goblins and vampires—something I'd never seen before, so it was utterly alien even to me.
The military vehicles were cramped, tailored to goblin physiques.
The party members had to split up across several vehicles.
Of course, I rode in the command vehicle.
The goblin who introduced himself as Major Spencer greeted me with chattering teeth.
To avoid provoking these folks, I sat silently without saying a word.
The garrison consisted of impressively sturdy steel containers, assembled on the fly.
It was hard to imagine they'd skimp on visuals—what kind of iron discipline did this army maintain?
"Glory to the Great Chaos!"
At some point, their salute for us shifted to a cheer. It could've been more concise.
We headed to the nearest regiment's garrison, where all the officers were already assembled.
They bellowed their salute with lungs rivaling an orc's battle cry.
Aged goblins trembled, faces burning with uncontainable fervor.
I had no idea how to handle this. First things first—get them seated.
They wouldn't drop their salutes until I returned one.
Only then did they exhale.
They'd even been holding their breath.
Unbelievable.
The regimental commander stammered,
A towering, boisterous colonel with a full beard—more bashful bride than goblin.
"We deeply thank you for your retreat support—no, your rear assault support! Meeting you is an infinite honor for my house... Ah, no. I-I just want to say how truly happy I am right now."
"What the hell, these goblins! They don't want to fight the war!"
I snapped without thinking, and the air froze solid.
Couldn't even scold them. The moment I spoke, it'd turn into the goddess's wrathful song.
This was maddening.
I carefully thawed the mood and asked for the local situation and war status.
The stairs to the next floor... I'd think about that later.
Staff from intelligence and operations scurried about.
Goblin soldiers hauled in armfuls of documents.
While waiting, the other officers fidgeted endlessly.
It was giving me a nervous breakdown.
The party members sat in the seats of honor, squirming under the excited stares.
In the midst of it, the Girl slipped her hand into mine.
The goddess was grinning like a maniac.
[Arkakyakakak! It's my first time seeing our High Priest this flustered. Feels just like when you heard Kakrish died last time. What a treat after so long.]
'What the hell did you do to these kids? Even that brief glimpse last time left me speechless.'
[Less what I did and more that fortress commander goblin—remember him?]
'Ah, that silver-tongued old goblin.'
[His lineage seems blessed that way for generations. The current leader and High Priest proxy is a descendant too.]
'Isn't that a dictatorship?'
[Dictatorship? I'm the dictator here. You too.]
Equality under the goddess, but exiles were a different story.
Yeah, that's why becoming a dictator felt so off. That's the kind of nation it was.
Different from being a king in a monarchy—weirdly awkward.
[You handle everything, but this makes you squirm? Unexpected.]
'I'm a solo player at heart. Only done the Fairy King of the New Fairy Empire and guild master of the Exile Guild.'
The goddess went quiet for a moment.
[Tough break.]
'Honestly? Not a fan of fairies. Can't stand them after that. Fairy King's throne feels like it's for NPCs.'
[Fair enough.]
Whatever the case, the goddess seemed thrilled by her champion's fluster.
Come to think of it, she found joy in others' misery too.
Having sat on a divine throne myself, I got it.
It was a profoundly boring place.
A position where NPCs were just NPCs.
So you latch onto relatable exiles, watch them obsessively, pamper them lest they die.
Our bond went beyond faith and contract now, so it didn't bother me.
[Hang in there~]
She delivered her final oracle in a cheeky mimicry of the Girl's voice, then reverted to spectator mode.
The briefing was ready by the end of our chat.
The regimental commander stood front and center; an operations officer goblin took a deep breath and accepted the pointer.
A hologram flickered up, running through key resources, unit history, and more.
To uphold the goddess's dignity, I maintained a stern demeanor.
"No, this isn't what I wanted. Can't we just see a simple map?"
The commander's face stiffened. The ops officer paled.
"Easy now. I appreciate the detail-oriented mindset."
Their expressions lit up.
Less emotional swings than a coin flip.
The Girl stifled giggles.
I used ventriloquism and magic to whisper just to her.
"Hey, their faces are falling again. Hold it in."
"Yep."
Finally, the map unfurled before my eyes.
Not on paper.
The holographic projection marked the garrison in real-time.
And the command post was packed with goblins.
Like an idol fandom?
Nah, more like pilgrims crowding to glimpse the Pope.
Chaos. Total chaos.
Various symbols and text popped up—pretty exotic script.
A nation like no other I'd seen, absent from my vast language library.
The ops officer, catching on, ventured,
"Great Warrior, do you need annotations or—"
"Tch!"
What was that tch for?
The commander barked at the irreverence. The ops officer shrank.
Headache incoming.
I backed the ops officer, and now the commander paled.
Driving me insane, both of them.
Suddenly, helicopter noise intruded.
The command officers' eyes darted wildly.
If it wasn't on the holo-map, it was for security... high-ranking visitor.
My ROK Army-honed instincts kicked in.
The crowd parted for a rushing group.
The lead goblin's insignia... stars? No, lollipop vibes?
That a lollipop?
[Field officer insignia are star candies, apparently.]
The Girl still held my hand, so the goddess chimed in.
This mad goddess.
Two figures—division commander?
He bellowed his name and rank loudest, confirming it.
"Your choice to grace our division fills us with boundless honor...!"
Seasoned enough not to stutter, at least.
So I thought—big mistake.
He suddenly keeled over.
Couldn't even sigh; it'd ruin the vibe. I watched sternly, strictly, gravely.
He wouldn't get purged for collapsing in front of me, right? Better hint at it.
Those young vampires the barbarian brought were cool, composed, emotionless.
The medic rushed in: overwhelmed by emotion, fainted.
Good, now it didn't matter.
Or so I thought—more noise. Not on the holo-map either.
Different from chopper. Propulsion hum.
VTOL inbound?
Then the corps commander burst in.
"Already exhausted."
"To goblins, you're a living god."
I shook my head and entered the lavish container they'd whipped up. Party members either reveled or recoiled at the sudden luxury post-rest.
"Gotta handle something—be back."
The corps commander—the highest ground authority— was the last visitor.
Per Federation Space Forces regs, he handed me command.
Inwardly: Is this even allowed? What the hell is their military law? Still, I accepted.
Just nominal anyway. Actual chain of command unchanged.
I needed the war status; got plenty of intel.
They spilled every military secret like offerings. If an enemy disguised as me got this, the Federation would crumble overnight.
I slumped into the flashy sofa, eyes closed.
Quick magic circle, mana circulation. Elder watched for threats.
Dove into the spirit realm.
Another world overlaid on this one filled my vision.
Much deadlier than it looked—one misstep, and my soul might vanish for good.
But contract lines drew me in, forming a path.
Slow steps led to Sylphid at the end.
Last memory: hatchling dragon.
Now, troll-sized silver dragon.
500 years—ample for a server-spanning spirit king to mature.
No longer a barely sapient drone, she greeted first.
You have arrived.
Gentle demeanor.
Relief.
As an exile contracting spirits: they're not portable.
Server-bound, callable from kingdoms but not permanent residents.
They return to the server spirit realm.
Sylphid and I contracted 500 years ago.
Many absences on my end; relations could sour.
Precautions for that.
'Need your help this floor.'
Future me left scant clues on floor 13.
Something about using the spirit king.
Sylphid shifted forms. Bobbed hair, neat, cute features. Huh?
A girl.
Splitting image of the Girl, but silver-haired, serene aura and expression.
Instinctively mimicking a close one in humanoid form?
No, why her?
Twins in looks, worlds apart in vibe—totally different people.
They were, literally.
Sylphid smiled with elegance the original Girl could never muster.
Gladly, Father.
Why father? Daughters piling up.
Pre-future Sylphid was a tiny flitter, buzzing my side even in spirit realm.