Chapter 150
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ace
Chapter: 150
Chapter Title: 15th Floor - Lv. 3000 Blue Dragon Arka
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Secretary-General was an elderly goblin.
His skin, once a deep, healthy green typical of the Greenskins, had faded to a mottled pale with age.
His white eyebrows and beard, the deep wrinkles etched across his forehead.
All of it made him look even older than he was.
Groblachov, the Secretary-General, was fifty-four this year.
For a goblin, where even reaching seventy was newsworthy in this era of advanced medicine, he was truly an old man.
But his eyes burned with an intensity unmatched by any other.
He wasn't unmoved, trembling with emotion like the others, but he held himself with far greater composure.
"I can't tell you how fortunate I feel that you've come in my lifetime."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because it's the only way we can uproot the Empire."
In that brief interregnum when even the gods hadn't yet sent an Exile.
To the Federation's people, it had felt like an eternity of waiting.
Responsible for billions upon billions of citizens, the decision to go to war was no simple matter.
Both sides watched each other warily, neither willing to yield an inch.
There had been countless skirmishes, but they could only be ignored.
There was no certainty of victory.
So the Federation hunkered down and waited.
For that final moment to sink its teeth into the Empire's dying gasp.
They waited without gambling away the lives of billions.
That went against everything I believed.
Exiles were powerful, yes, but there were so few of them.
They could turn a single battle, but wars were won by the endless ranks of soldiers who threw themselves into the fray without hesitation, and the production lines back home fueling them.
I told him as much.
No need to play coy with someone of the Secretary-General's stature.
He neither faltered nor showed disappointment.
"Of course I know. Wars in this age have grown too vast. Even a legendary Great Warrior has limits."
I was surprised by his cold realism—and relieved.
Finally. Too many folks around here idolize me like I'm some god. It's getting old.
It was the Federation's prime propaganda tool, sure, but from the receiving end? Not so much.
And as someone not truly tied to this world, there was that nagging guilt too.
"But the message is what matters. The Goddess watches over us. We will triumph."
"The morale boost was almost embarrassing on my end."
"And that last battle truly was a major turning point."
The Empire's morale had always been paper-thin compared to other nations.
Greenskins fought for their own greed, not grand strategies or higher ideals.
Their ferocity had only held because their instincts wouldn't tolerate enemies in front of them.
But over long years, even that savagery had diluted. As faith in the God of War and Ferocity waned, it accelerated.
The Empire that once drove the Alliance and Federation from the first planet was now a lion in its death throes.
I recalled the flabby orcs and cowardly ogres from the 11th floor.
Just like how regional and national identities faded on Earth, the races here were losing their distinct flavors.
How many geezers nursing lattes were out there among the aging Greenskins?
War and savagery were Greenskin instincts, but maybe not anymore.
That was exactly what the Secretary-General meant.
"The Empire's discipline is mostly maintained by stoking their fading instincts. Stroking egos, promising more loot—that sort of thing."
Which made the 13th floor battlefield all the more crucial, apparently.
A planet they dragged out to the fortress line, punching a hole in their front just to pull back into their sphere of influence.
"So the Empire's food supply must be running into serious problems now."
"That would be the end of them. No matter how clever the ogres get, they can't control starving Greenskins."
The Secretary-General spat with contempt. It was a loathing etched into his very soul.
It couldn't be helped—their roots ran that deep.
They even lamented their own green skin.
"The commanders back then didn't seem to know."
"They investigated after noticing something off. Famine, it turns out. Hidden masterfully."
Then it really was a key battlefield. The Labyrinth only dragged me to the most critical spots.
The 15th floor probably was too.
That's what this meeting was about, after all.
"A fleet battle's coming up soon, then."
"They have no choice. The Empire's time is running out."
Which put the 15th floor right in the middle.
The clash that would force even dragons to heave their massive bulk into motion.
"Guess I'll be there too."
"I hear you have one floor left. A boss floor, no doubt."
The Secretary-General stayed ice-cold to the end. I wondered if even I could match that, leading a whole nation.
If I ever crossed paths with that goblin captain from the 8th floor again, I'd have to praise his descendants.
But once all business wrapped up, he broke down, tears streaming as he clutched my hand and kissed it.
He'd been holding it in, after all.
Goddess, did you brainwash him with holy power or something?
「Hate to say it, but goblins as a species just seem wired to prefer having someone above them.」
Some racial traits time couldn't wash away.
The Secretary-General insisted on staying longer. When I asked about state affairs, he said they'd drawn lots, and he'd won the chance to come himself. It was like a vacation, no issues.
For a goblin whose lifespan made seeing a Great Warrior a once-in-a-lifetime event, he couldn't pass it up—but with the greater cause at stake, tearful sacrifices had been made...
So while chatting idly with the old goblin, I spent most of my rest scouring the ship's graveyard.
Some fleets had returned, but those lingering under the guise of escort helped explore the once-unknown Dark Spirit Realm.
Soon, a few magitech engineers were dispatched too.
They went through the same awestruck routine upon seeing me, then dove into the wrecked ancient vessels.
Several artifacts imbued with magic were found.
Though their power seemed a bit vague at first glance—most had no immediate use.
These were [key items], no doubt to pay off later, post-kingdom arc.
I stuffed them neatly into the maknae's backpack and hunted for anything practical now.
And practical loot turned up.
"Is this a Wind Crystal?"
"Let me show the Great Warrior!"
It was exactly what I'd used to contract Sylph at the start.
Crystallized elements.
The Dark Spirit King's corporeal form had been made of the stuff too.
That's why I'd harvested tons of dark shards, but wind was rare in this void—space had no air.
"A massive haul. Good. Good. Perfect."
And alongside the massive wind crystals, something else appeared.
"That's the Night Crow insignia."
Turns out it wasn't an active group anymore.
As vampire hunters, they'd clashed with the early Federation somewhat.
Belonged to some house... Apeltaín?
Rings a bell.
"In the past, the royal family of the human kingdom on the first planet."
Just a faded relic now, apparently.
Got it. Filing that away.
No human Nature or Chaos worshippers around to glean more.
Traces of Great Saintess Merillith surfaced too.
She'd lived obscenely long, past a century, before passing. The God of Order had gotten his money's worth.
It was one of her church's ships.
Even three days wasn't enough to comb every inch of that vast graveyard.
I settled for what I could get.
Our party's dedicated transport joined midway, letting the mages fully recharge their mana.
Its mana-infused hot springs were replicas of those on the first planet—perfect for recovery.
We were in top form, and just as Groblachov started carrying out my orders, the stairs appeared.
"Tucked in the shittiest spot."
Good thing I'd collected the Dark Spirit King's shards properly.
The stairs were grafted somewhere deep inside its body.
Talk about overkill.
No way the normal clear involved crawling into that monster's gut...
Calling that "normal" would insult every normal thing in existence.
The party had eaten well and rested for three days—everyone's skin was glowing.
The kid had improved by leaps and bounds in that short time, handling solid magic now.
She could definitely pull off the performance from when I sent her to the past via the Temple of Time.
She latched onto Grandpa, the next best magic expert after me, calling him that and chattering nonstop. Her old dazed, quiet image shattered in seconds.
The Girl was thrilled.
The Goddess was pissed.
「Look at her, so lively and happy. Should've stepped up sooner.」
You never hinted.
「With all the crap you've pulled, I figured you had something planned again.」
Too much trust could be a problem.
The kid, now gung-ho about magic, naturally came to me during downtime too.
And like a set menu, the Girl grabbed her hand and tagged along.
Both started clinging way more.
"Not planning to make me a widow, are you?"
"Not planning to make me an orphan again, right?"
Why the duet now?
Still, that cheeky side from future kid was emerging.
The God of Nature stepped up boldly.
「Thick-skulled fool doesn't get family value. Magic's not everything. Go hug her already.」
I'm just the party leader...
「Isn't emotional stability key for party members? She sees you as family—act like it.」
The issue? The Girl had started calling her "Mom" full-on and following suit.
The kid, never having a real family, was eating up this family playtime.
"Can't be helped."
That's the vibe now.
Family play.
Just play, nothing more.
Stepping onto the stairs brought the expected weightlessness.
Oxygen secured individually.
Floating in the void, I scanned around—and spotted massive fleets.
The Labyrinth had a conscience; it hadn't dropped us smack in the battlefield center.
But... why were there three fleets?
The gap between the Federation and Alliance fleets was weirdly wide.
Thankfully, it didn't look like they'd tangled with the Empire, but...
This wasn't what I'd expected.