Chapter 287
Chapter 287
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 287
Chapter Title: Parallel World Tales from the Magic Sword
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I successfully crammed 1% of it into the magic sword and completed the sealing process.
There were a number of minor scrapes and one moderate injury in the process, but it was just bruises, so they'd all heal after a night's rest. No real damage done.
With the ingredients prepped and packaged, all that was left was to enjoy it.
We gazed at the magic sword, tightly bound with strands of mana rope, and began debating how best to cook it up. First on the agenda: the Evil God-chan Mk. 2 plan.
If we could turn this one into a hero-turned-villain too, it'd be perfect.
"So... Aisha would get a friend—er, little sister? The one we make, that's... birthing it, right?"
Yuna's eyes sparkled as she asked with an excited expression. Her word choice and the oddly married-couple vibe seemed to delight her to no end.
I joined in on the fun, putting on a serious second-child-considering dad's face and asking Aisha gently.
"They might end up as siblings. Aisha, would you prefer a little sister or a little brother?"
"...I don't need siblings of either kind?!"
"Now, now, family should get along. And even if baby number two comes along, Daddy's love for Aisha won't change one bit."
"I said I don't need it!"
They say siblings are programmed to kill each other from birth, but Aisha was already gnashing her teeth at a child that hadn't even been born yet.
A daughter would be nice. I infused mana into the sword to access its internals. Once I'd checked the data and ego inside, I planned to TS it or whatever.
"...Huh?"
"What's wrong, Master?"
"No ego. The internal data's... all jumbled up in a filthy mess, hard to read."
"No ego? But didn't the magic sword blast hypnosis waves at the academy students?"
That's why I'd assumed it had a consciousness like Aisha's.
But this 1% chunk dwelling in the sword was closer to a pure data blob, with its tendency to interfere and corrupt surroundings feeling purely mechanical. Like bacteria or a virus in action.
"Gave us flesh instead of bone to minimize damage."
"Yeah. Aisha's case must've felt seriously threatening. Figured it'd get whittled away bit by bit if it kept hero-corrupting. So in that case..."
This confirmed it. The thing was sealed in my head, but it knew how external events were unfolding.
If it hadn't witnessed Aisha's fall firsthand, there'd be no reason for its ego to be this finicky. I don't know the exact method. Could it sense what I see, hear, and feel?
Or maybe some other... covert channel, like an external terminal.
"No need to grant this sword an ego then. It's more like a USB packed with precious intel. Perfect fit. Once research is done, I'll give it to you, Aisha."
"Why?"
"It's one degree removed from the main body—you'll make the best use of it."
Unique items aren't for sharing.
Aisha fiddled with the tightly bound sword, turning it this way and that, then furrowed her brow as if sensing something off. When I shot her a questioning look,
"It split off from the one whole, right? So it feels like there's attraction. This 1% and I are pulling toward each other. Trying to reunite."
"...Dangerous?"
"Nah. No ego in the sword, and it's just a 1% lump—I can block it fine. But next extractions need more caution. The rest'll wanna clump too."
I see. So risk ramps up steeply with each pull.
Scrap the plan to chip away 1% at a time and grind down 'that thing.' Even scattering bits Exodia-style across the continent, they'd eventually reunite and revive.
Truly a filthy pain.
Next came a veteran illusion mages' debate on extracting info from this sword.
The sword was like a treasure chest wrapped tight in locks, ropes, and defenses—tough to crack for the data inside. Our job: breach it.
"Steep it in mana solution... brew out the info broth. Squeeze bits at a time, extract just what we need?"
Grand Mage's green tea bag theory.
"How about this? Ego confirmed absent, so filter it into a session. Probe gently inside—no Cthulhu rampage possible."
My TRPG theory.
And from 'that thing' research authority (herself), Aisha's final pitch:
"No ego means we can use it freely. Treat as a data pack whole—if done right, get answers without decrypting."
No need to pick the lock; poke a hole, feed questions, shake for replies. Black box it: pound variables, skip solving F.
Fun idea, low risk of data damage. We adopted Aisha's first.
Half a day of tinkering later:
- .........
"If a gate opened in Korea's skies, what happens?"
"Yep, makes up nonsense for unknowns."
ChatGPT knockoff, "Storyteller."
Use glitches on unknowns to probe knowledge gaps. Twenty questions vibe.
"Know Cthulhu?"
No info on my past life. Nor session internals, it seems. If it'd seen Bennett's wild adventure, it'd know giant squid tales too.
'That thing's' reach doesn't extend to isolated sim worlds. Valuable intel. Plan ops inside sessions henceforth.
So what does it know?
"Predict: If I hadn't picked Yuna, but started as Crimson Magic Tower mage, what happens?"
- .........
The sword glitched thoughtfully, then spilled the tale.
- In the Crimson Magic Tower's sanctuary, two lived.
Crimson Magic Tower sanctuary, Fire Soul Palace.
This space where the Crimson Magic Tower Master resided was encased in a thick hemispherical shell of magic alloy. Not for protection from external threats.
For shielding the outside from the scorching and radiation born within.
Experiments and magic circles inside pushed the palace's average air temp near 105°C. Unlivable for most life.
Spit evaporates. Body fluids boil to steam. Breathing alone chars lungs. Scorching hell, aptly named.
Only two dwelled there.
On a fire-resistant bed, a voluptuous woman lay utterly nude. Red hair flowed like lava, eyes blazed like suns.
Skin pale without a scorch mark, other parts cherry-blossom pink.
With each lazy breath, massive hills rose and fell, jiggling slightly. Tempting enough to stir lust in any man.
Foxy eyes brimmed with charm, teardrop mole at the corner added allure. She embodied nation-shaking seductiveness, parting lips to say:
"Ah~ I'm yawning~!"
"Don't speak so loudly, Tower Master."
And got scolded by her disciple.
-
Crimson Magic Tower Master Vermilion was kind and casual. To herself only.
Cat-like whimsy, ignores others' feelings mostly. If her ideals benefited the Empire, she'd be a hero by now.
Picture a mad, brilliant scientist toiling for humanity's advance. Spot on.
Motto: "Don't heed the weak." Her disciple, luckily snagged a decade ago, was still a tad weaker.
"Tower Master, today we start reconstruction on Magic Circle No. 3──"
So she did as she pleased.
Yanked her disciple's arm, flopped him on the bed, planted a deep, sloppy kiss. He punched her head—thunk thunk—but she wasn't frail enough for damage.
His tantrum only heated her up.
Vermilion pinned his wrists to the bed. Jet-black hair and indifferent red eyes gazed up. Eyes reflecting utter apathy.
To her violent flesh, to a beauty sexually devouring him—zero value felt in those dispassionate eyes.
Vermilion loved that.
"Baby, one clean round to start the day?"
"No."
"You know refusals mean nothing, yet keep staunchly saying no... that's what gets me."
"Die."
Vermilion leaned in, bodies pressed tight. And──
"Stop...!!"
Clang!
Yuna smacked the sword with her cute fist, cutting the tale. No more bed wrestling between Crimson Tower Master and me—faded into air.
Yuna glared like a devoted wife resenting her cheating husband but unable to abandon her love, clinging on. That look made me the victim. I didn't ask for this.
I scooped her up, soothed her, then analyzed.
"Sword's bullshitting again, right?"
"Doubt it. I've got fragments on Crimson Tower Master too. Main body would, so this 1% could. And on you... probably tons."
"So there might've been a future where I roll in bed daily with voluptuous Crimson Tower Master? Ah, ow, that hurts. Don't pinch. Just prediction, fiction."
"Ask for main body clues next."
Hm.
"If I started Golden Magic Tower, predict how you'd counter me. And world's fate."
The mad mage descended from central control, heading to the prow of aerial fortress island 『Floating Land』. At the lush forefront, a giantess played making flower crowns.
Golden Magic Tower Master, freak who floated an island-sized landmass.
Mad mage scratched skull-eye patch, reported to Gold Tower Master.
"Captain, mana stones running low."
"Ufufu... turn ship then. North-northwest, target: Empire's sixteenth mana stone mine. Tough dig, slow dev—plenty left probably?"
"Aye aye, sir. Survivors inside? Standard protocol?"
"Yes. Clean ones as crew, contaminated disposed. Can't let mohawks into our paradise, eh?"
Indeed. Boarding irradiated post-apoc mohawks was suicide. Rattle. Mad mage pulled telescope, peered groundward.
Below: hellscape apocalypse. Blackened earth raced by mohawks, giant strawberries rolled, marshmallow farms burned sweet.
Mad mage focused to drop meteor──
Clang!
"Stop. This went off the rails."
I knuckle-rapped the sword, halting it. Plot derailed, no useful info. Random mohawks? Giant strawberries what?
This 1% clueless on main body too?
Aisha saw differently.
"Nah, solid till midway. Then main body mention incoming—story tanks. Key info guarded tighter."
"Won't let secrets slip easy."
Hence sloppy swaps: giant berries, marshmallow farms. Was different originally.
Yeah, it'd be anticlimax if breached easy. Tenacious bastard holding a life's hostage—would've erased if secrets this loose.
"Boil it?"
"Yeah."
Sizzle!
Yuna's turn: scald sword in hot water, brew info. While she tried, I arms-crossed, pondered. Recalled, combined magic theories.
Got a lead.
Prepping a mecha-vs-kaiju session anyway.
Copy sword data to kaiju, fry in sim world for gains. No ego, well-sealed—won't wreck session.
Bonus: magic-tech crossover hints.
My brain's a monster at calc and innate magic, but lags elsewhere. No poetry...
Good at naming, though.
Weak on science/tech too. Calculator, not scientist. Why no nukes, lasers, planet-busters from me.
Thus, past life's civ underutilized.
Gold Tower Master's prized disciple whatshisname. Saw engineer talent. Rocket boosters on swords? Genius. So I thought:
Feed him knowledge/materials in sim—might craft something I couldn't dream?
"So, seemed helpful for student's dream. If you're game, I'd like to offer an isekai experience..."
"I'll do it."
"Love the enthusiasm! Step onto the magic circle. I'll explain precautions..."
Session time, finally.