Slip of the Tongue (2)
Of course, Cardio didn't let my slip of the tongue slide so smoothly.
"Inefficient, you say? That's not something I can just laugh off."
His face remained serene as ever, but the slight hardening of his tone made it clear he was pissed.
"Our family's bioweapons, the chimeras, are combat weapons created by fusing exceptional monster materials. They're already powerful monsters to begin with, harmonized to become even stronger."
"Let's set aside any talk of respect for life here and just say sourcing those materials must be a hassle. Sounds like a lot of hard work on your end."
Yeah, they'd have to be super selective with monsters fit for weaponizing. Must be a real pain to make.
"Ours can be mass-produced as long as the quality doesn't tank too much, so it's relatively easier. Of course, I get the royal stuff needs that extra curation."
Compared to hunting down monsters, our material supply was way smoother. Just the mid-to-low-grade mana metal mine we were getting would keep Cyclops production for civilians humming along fine.
Cardio paused for a beat, then spoke again.
"We appreciate the understanding. That's why chimeras have this effect—they deter monsters from approaching wherever they're deployed. Feed them well, and they'll build their own perfect barrier."
"Ours excel at rapid annihilation from range instead, so pros and cons all around. I hear Phoenix County leans hard into early detection on Cyclops battlefields. No need to keep 'em idling daily either—just shut down the engine when not in use."
The conversation had somehow turned into us both bragging about our creations, but honestly, I didn't mind. Better than dancing around insults; this was straightforward.
Cardio was heating up too.
"Chimeras are perfect weapons from the moment they're born. No training needed—just toss 'em into battle. Beats needing pilots to master controls like with Cyclops."
"Put another way, once you learn the controls, anyone can wield power even knights struggle with. Unlike self-fighting chimeras, ours sync with humans, so control's a breeze."
"Humans are fickle. How long do you think they'll stay controlled?"
"Better than something that won't listen at all, right?"
Cardio was smiling. Who knew what lurked behind that picture-perfect face. One thing was clear: he was running out of steam. The glass of devil's blood—or whatever that booze was—in his hand trembled faintly. He hid it well, but liquid vibrations are tough to fake.
I pretended not to notice and just stared at his face. His picturesque features sharpened, eyes narrowing as he said,
"Don't climb too high."
Soft tone, but icy cold.
"No matter how you dress it up, what you make are still weapons of war."
Cardio was cutting to the core now.
"Weapons matter by how many enemies they kill, and how efficiently. War weapons are just that—war weapons."
Did saying it out loud make him feel like he had the upper hand? His voice gained confidence as he pressed on.
"Yours are slaughter machines for killing people too. Before worrying about control, know your place, future warmonger."
Tough to counter that one. I watched him quietly, then asked,
"You know that applies to you too, right?"
"We're already prepared for it. Are you?"
"It's more like we think differently, even before preparation."
Couldn't avoid pondering that issue. I hadn't nailed a perfect answer myself, but I'd thought it through and reached some conclusions.
"My golems are weapons for war. No denying that."
It's a fundamental limit of the stuff I loved from the start. Pointless and wrong to deny it.
"But my golems carry people. Humans' hearts and minds direct that steel body's immense power."
The golem itself has no will. The implication was obvious.
"How that power's used? The rider decides."
Some would prioritize war and slaughter, sure. Others would ride to protect home and family. If I had to define what I made, what I loved...
"If yours are war weapons, maybe mine are just power."
"Power?"
"Immense power, but without will—so it can belong to anyone, achieve anything. Power that realizes human hearts, beyond good or evil. That's how I see it."
I smiled quietly at Cardio. He stared back, speechless for a moment. Perfect opening to push.
"And when it's all over, golems can be dismantled and recycled. Or refit for postwar reconstruction. Plenty of uses either way."
Territory defense against monsters was already a built-in feature.
Cardio smiled as he replied,
"Chimeras could do that too, if..."
"If you nail the control research, sure."
Cardio downed his glass in silence. From what I'd heard in Phoenix County, Abatus bioweapons started strong but ended in a tragedy claiming fourteen knights. Trauma must run deep—some unrelated knight even tried flexing on me over it. Didn't get details then, but knowing Abatus's clout now, they'd have swept it under the rug.
That must be why he clammed up.
Ours proved useful to the end.
With lots of help and luck, sure, but unlike their disaster chimera, our side fought clean through.
After chugging steadily, Cardio smiled and said,
"We're advancing on that research too. Good news soon."
"Looking forward to it. Might hear late—busy schedule."
"Must be swamped. Heard your new project's hitting snags."
That pinged my radar.
"News travels fast."
"We have our sources..."
Yeah, Abatus clout meant eyes everywhere tracking us. Not a total secret experiment, so no leak panic, but constant surveillance soured the mood. Meant they were watching close, though.
"Heard Reina rode the latest, but it still got crushed by an older Cyclops model?"
"Yup. Not everything goes smooth."
"I get it. My sympathies—failures happen to everyone."
Mocking our tech demonstrator as a failure, huh.
"Abatus rarely fails, then."
"Pretty much. Backed by resources and centuries of research."
"We fail almost daily without that. Jealous."
I smiled quietly. Cardio showed curiosity for the first time.
"Daily failures?"
"Pretty much every day. Believe it or not."
Not exaggerating. Cardio and even silent Gilford perked up. I grinned at Noel beside me.
"Noel sees it daily—knows best, right?"
"Totally. Last time, tweaking engine output nearly blew it up. And that spring experiment? It launched you flying."
Recent stuff. Go further back...
"Before that, thinned the armor for upgrades. Erica said she could break it, so I dared her—and she did."
"Then the giant flexible whip thing for budget reasons—Mina chewed you out."
"I messed with you too, right?"
"Some rail... gun? Tried replicating with lightning magic, exploded— you barely saved us with a clay wall. I remember."
"Oh yeah, that. Forgot why. Reina storming in, dumping headache meds... too burned in my brain."
"Stuck in mine too."
We really botched and failed daily. Gilford stared, stunned, then asked quietly,
"Pardon, but... are you human? Surviving all that danger?"
"No choice. Risks are constant, can't dump 'em on others."
Safety measures maxed, yet daily explosions. Maybe Noel, Mina, Erica visited daily to gawk at blasts and check if I was okay.
Either way, we'd iterated, compromised, barely succeeded through tons of trials.
I smiled at dazed Gilford.
"Few failures can mean a lot. You've exhausted all possible fails already, or a massive one's looming."
Or tiny sample size. One thing was sure.
"Can't create concepts that don't exist in this world without countless failures along the way."
Our results? Born from endless flops.