Chapter 26
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: Crossroads
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Come to think of it, we've been wondering what to call each other.
We can just call Anonymous 1 that, but... especially, I don't know what to call '0'.
I'd thought about that problem before.
Even before hiding mana phones all across the continent.
Even if we called this chat a 'group chat,' the people here clearly wouldn't understand the term.
Of course, I'd worried about the name too.
Not deeply, though.
What was the reason I'd made and distributed this mana phone beta version in the first place?
Not some grand plan or noble goal. Just for my own petty amusement.
But then things started rolling in a weird direction.
Who could've predicted the two who found the mana phones would be Transcendents?
And on top of that, I got dragged into Transcendent business myself, tangling up my original intent of just observing.
'...Should I decide it now?'
That thought crossed my mind.
The two members in the group chat right now were Transcendents.
I was playing the part too.
But what if new people joined later?
I couldn't assume they'd be Transcendents as well.
And I couldn't guarantee the chat's vibe would stay like this.
Especially since we were still at the stage of haphazardly using info we'd stumbled upon.
Someone might say picking a name is no big deal, but somehow it felt like a pivotal moment—a fork in the road that could shape our future direction.
Knowing the members were Transcendents only added to the pressure.
It might just be my wizard brain overthinking.
Mages often don't settle on a direction the moment an idea hits; they mull it over in their heads endlessly.
Leaving things formless preserves the potential for branching thoughts.
Not sure if that metaphor fits perfectly here, but...
For now, I decided to put off deciding.
Didn't we say we need info right now?
What's on your mind?
Ah... You don't like us deciding on our own?
Why not just go with something like 'The Strongest Guys'?
That... absolutely not.
Not even if I died and came back to life.
Then, shameless as it is, I'd like to handle my business first.
Exactly what I'd hoped for.
What exactly are you curious about?
I want to know the enemy's scale. Are the beastkin in Palewood just allied with the Pale Water Tribe, or is there more?
Joart had mentioned Evanveil, Duskwill, and Palewood as northern evil forces.
I'd asked the mages around me in the carriage and learned about it beforehand.
Palewood was the forest area where wolfkin beastkin lived, and Evanveil and Duskwill were lands long settled by minority races.
Joart had stopped there, but according to Anonymous 1's recent scouting of Palewood, they seemed allied even with Pale Water Tribe outside the borders.
Clearly, that force was expanding noticeably.
I relayed all that to Anonymous 2.
Anonymous 2 went silent for a while after hearing it.
Way more... serious than I thought.
If I hadn't known, it really could've been dangerous.
The shock seemed pretty big.
But contrary to Anonymous 2's mood, Anonymous 1 was as bold as ever.
Can't we just wipe 'em all out?
Wanna make a deal again?
Anonymous 1 was talking like that was the obvious move.
Could he really wipe them all out?
I knew Anonymous 1 was strong.
Philip Deran, whom Joart— a Dragon Rank Transcendent—had tried to deal with.
So Philip Deran must've been around that level too.
Then Anonymous 1's power was beyond Dragon Rank... Sovereign Rank? Maybe even Heavenly Rank.
Given his personality, he'd probably say it was possible even against stronger foes.
Without him saying it himself, I couldn't gauge it.
Philip Deran's diary mentioned some entity gathering them.
He'd estimated the black slime maker was stronger than Dragon Rank.
If I knew Anonymous 1's exact strength, I could make a fitting request.
But more than that... even for Anonymous 1, pulling off a deal like this would require proper compensation.
This doesn't seem like something I can settle for just questions this time.
If you're ready, spill it.
My guess was spot on.
He wasn't about to lend a hand easily either.
No matter what, facing three forces... no, four, maybe more... even if stronger than a Dragon Rank Transcendent, wouldn't be simple.
Ah, not that I'm scared or anything. If we deal, I'll handle it clean.
In that case... what are your terms?
There's a guy I'm looking for. You help me find him.
That kind of condition... seems impossible.
Anonymous 2's reply came without hesitation.
Not because the terms were unfair.
I had a vague idea why.
She's an elf.
Elves are insular.
Helping search for someone else?
That was an impossible ask for an elf from the start.
And I couldn't step in to negotiate either.
No reason to go that far.
Sorry while we're building camaraderie, but this is a condition I can't budge on.
No, it's a sign something's off if I'm asking for such an unreasonable favor in the first place.
I'd love to handle it with our own strength.
It's just regrettable that we're not in a position to.
Anonymous 2 typed out messages like a lament.
She'd at least pretended to hide her identity before, but now she was gradually opening up.
It was natural for info to leak in long chats, but she was saying even things she didn't need to.
Her wariness toward the chat was easing bit by bit, it seemed.
Tough situation to resolve?
Can't you just fight head-on?
I want to, but opposition is strong.
As always, the majority favors fleeing elsewhere.
So, running away.
...Yes. Can't deny it.
But I understand their side. We've had no conflicts for ages.
Anonymous 2 had even spilled their insular nature.
...Was she about to straight-up admit being elves?
Or maybe she figured it didn't matter if we knew.
At what point had her guard dropped this much?
Maybe when I offered help for free, she felt the same as Anonymous 1?
If we confront them... we'd have to shoulder responsibilities we'd escaped from our pact.
Pact? What's that?
...You don't know? Or does your kind call it something else? The peace pact human Transcendents made thousands of years ago.
Was there such a thing?
Come to think of it, you said you slept a long time.
That explains all the questions you've had.
Still... that was ancient history.
Sharp one, huh?
Not trying to dig into your identity.
Well, even minority races might not know. Anyway, if we fight, we'd draw ire from all the races in that pact.
Anonymous 2 deliberately changed the subject.
She probably saw prying into identities in this chat as impolite.
I pondered their exchange for a moment.
A Transcendent asleep so long they didn't know the pact...
It made sense why they'd casually offer to kill Philip Deran.
Not just skill, but no external constraints at all.
Maybe... a race lost to history?
As I mulled that, Anonymous 2's message came my way.
'0', mind if I ask something?
What?
Do you know when they'll make their move?
Philip Deran's diary came to mind.
It recorded regular assemblies. Three months from now.
Couldn't say how long after the assembly their follow-up would take.
But he'd written they'd held back long enough and were about to act soon.
He hadn't specified what, but seizing northern forces was a safe guess.
Soonest three months out.
Given their nature, it won't drag on long even if delayed.
Their nature... yeah.
Thanks for letting me know.
Anonymous 2 probably knew some of it already.
She knew the Pale Water Tribe were outsiders to the borders, so she had some knowledge of surrounding forces.
I'd shared all the info I could.
Thought about asking their plans, but held back.
Prying didn't fit the '0' image I'd maintained.
What happened next depended on how Anonymous 2 played it.
And to some extent, whether my new experiment with the relic-grade artifact succeeded.
I holed up in the baggage wagon the whole carriage ride.
At the center was a small workbench.
On it sat a relic-grade artifact a bit larger than my palm.
Its surface flickered with ever-shifting geometric patterns.
I'd griped about minor vibrations in the passenger carriage, but with work in hand, I tuned out the discomfort in my focus.
I was testing this relic-grade artifact's true capabilities.
First, whether optimization aided fine artifact shaping.
Second, how far it could handle when I offloaded calculations.
Finally, linking those: could I infuse my mana to make a shaped artifact move like it was alive?
I didn't even glance at anthropomorphizing it on a whim.
Three months was too tight.
Once rough tests ended, I'd move straight to human bone experiments.
Slowly, I channeled mana from my fingertips.
Cold, clear energy seeped onto the workbench.
The mana condensed, gradually turning into a gelatinous slime.
Tiny bubbles like needle tips rose densely on its surface.
Those bubbles were sensors.
If my will transmitted perfectly, they'd react to the finest twitches.
Honestly, I was no good with liquids.
I'd benefited plenty from 'chill' traits in shaping artifacts.
But this time was different.
To read the subtle conversion of infused mana-will back to will, liquid was essential.
Using the relic-grade artifact as medium, I injected thin threads of mana into the gel.
Me - artifact - gel.
Simple connection, but the key was conversion.
If the threads linked like one body, my will—as voice-like mana—would pass through the artifact to the gel.
The instant mana hit the gel, the artifact rapidly recalculated it back to will.
The computation meshed like gear teeth, transmission faster than a blink.
Only then could real-time commands mimic life.
Success meant wriggling bubbles.
Proof of linked output and response.
One burst from unadjusted shock; another swelled then subsided in sync with my will.
In the two weeks to the capital, I replicated the process successfully.
Still needed fine tuning, but rough tests were satisfying.
As I immersed in experiments, the carriage reached the capital. I stretched my stiff body and climbed out.
Cracks sounded from joints as I moved.
"That stubborn bastard... finally crawled out."
"Thought I was hauling a corpse."
The knights muttered something, but street clamor drowned it.
Imperial guards with crested spears lined both sides; beyond them, gawking citizens and a band blaring march tunes kept rhythm.
Golden flags fluttered in rows atop the gates.
No wonder it'd been noisy lately.
A grand welcome ceremony was underway.
Made sense for the empire to make a show when even a territory commander's commander stepped up.
As I debated slipping back into the carriage, Raistel approached.
"Before the merit awards... His Majesty wants a word."
"...Me?"
I glanced at Raistel's face. It wasn't cheerful.
Didn't seem like His Majesty graciously summoning me for praise and rewards.
Then what?