Chapter 167: Transcendence Part 1

Lobelia seemed worried that Tillis might lose control and go on a rampage. It was a reasonable concern.

Tillis was someone whose thoughts were hard to read, but even so, seeing her occupied homeland being used in that way…who’s to say she wouldn’t snap?

“Does the Saintess not know about it?”

“There’s a big difference between knowing something and seeing it with your own eyes.”

“Well… that’s true.”

I used to think Lobelia was the perfect main character, but now that I was getting tangled up with her, I realized there was no one more troublesome.

And with that in mind, even if Tillis did end up surrendering herself to rage, it wouldn’t be that surprising.

“Honestly, I think her anger is justified. The problem is what comes after. If word reaches His Majesty that she lashed out after seeing her defiled homeland, that’ll be the end of the elven race.”

Not that it makes much of a difference. Tillis is basically the last elf, so they’re already functionally extinct.

But it would certainly accelerate the moment that gets written into history.

I imagined what might happen if Tillis really did go berserk.

“If that’s the case, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Aren’t you putting a bit too much faith in the Saintess’s character?”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what?”

“There probably won’t be any rumors. She must’ve killed them all. No eyewitnesses left alive. In a way, you could call it a perfect crime.”

“……”

I figured it was still too soon to reveal Tillis’s true identity to Lobelia, but this much should be fine.

“Well, it just means the Saintess is that powerful. I mean, she went head-to-head with Faust, didn’t she?”

“…I see. So you don’t trust her character at all.”

“If I had to choose, yeah. I’m on that side of things.”

If Tillis decided to go all out, there wouldn’t be a single survivor.

Not because she was the type to tie up loose ends, but because… that’s just how she normally operated.

The Judge was infamous for charging forward like a bulldozer once her goal was set.

Smashing through everything in her path. That was her style.

If seeing her defiled homeland had truly enraged her, it wouldn’t just be the factory. Everyone even remotely connected to it would be wiped out.

The 71 demons who served as her eyes wouldn’t let a single witness slip away.

“Well then, let’s get to the point.”

“That’s sudden. Is there something you wanted to tell me? From how long you’ve been dragging this out, it must be important.”

“Please give me some money.”

“…Johan, you really have a talent for leaving people speechless.”

“I am a hard man to figure out; that’s true. So, when will you be handing over my gold bars? I’m in a bit of a rush.”

“Just to be clear… you’re not planning to run away again, are you?”

“Not this time.”

“So you were planning to last time.”

“Dwelling on the past isn’t a very good habit, you know.”

“Urgh…! If your engagement ceremony weren’t coming up, I’d have given you a nice big bruise right on your face!”

Still, I appreciated that she was holding back. For Ariel’s sake, no doubt.

And by now, I was starting to get a good sense of just how far I could push Lobelia.

As long as I didn’t curse her out directly, she was surprisingly tolerant.

Of course, that only applied to attitude. If this turned into a negotiation or a favor, who knew how she’d react?

“So? Why do you suddenly need such a huge amount of money?”

“I need funding for my research.”

“I heard the Cradle gives students astronomical research funding.”

“Yes, but I can’t use those funds out here. Taking them off-campus would count as embezzlement, wouldn’t it?”

“I didn’t take you for someone who’d care about that sort of thing…”

What does she take me for?

I mean, sure, I did bend the rules a few times.

But I used it for a good cause, so it wasn’t embezzlement; it was… external experimentation.

“Research, huh… If I remember right, the research you’re doing is about curing Transcendence Syndrome?”

“That’s right.”

“Are you in the final stages?”

“More or less.”

I’d already created a half-finished version long ago. Completion wasn’t far off.

All that remained was fine-tuning the formula ratios. It was a simple, repetitive task.

But I knew how to speed things up.

More precisely, I knew someone with the kind of cutting-edge equipment that could make it happen.

“But is this really something money alone can solve? I thought the key issue was the materials and experimental equipment.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Oh? And what’s your plan, then?”

“That’s not something I can share with Your Highness.”

“……”

You don’t want to tell me anything about the Theseus stuff either, do you?

So can you stop giving me that half-suspicious, half-lazy stare?

We’re even.

“Hmph. Fine. I understand. But I’m afraid I don’t have that kind of money just lying around. I’ll write you a check.”

“A blank check?”

“…I’ll fill it out myself, so don’t even think about it.”

“I wasn’t going to go that far.”

Sheesh, how rude.

It’s not like I’d write in some ridiculous, astronomical figure.

Lobelia started scribbling on the check while shielding it from my view.

Seriously, do I really come across as that untrustworthy?

“Let’s go with this amount for now. It has the imperial seal on it, so you should be able to use it anywhere.”

“Thank you kindly. Well then, I’ll take my leave.”

“…Did you seriously just come here for money?”

“I told you I took care of Loki.”

“And I’m guessing that, to you, that’s worth less than this check?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

It’s not like killing someone is anything to be proud of.

Was there even a bounty on him?

There wasn’t, right? Then obviously, the check holds more value.

“Well then, get some rest.”

Please, I’m begging you. Don’t go wandering around causing trouble. Just stay put and behave yourself.

***

That night, I quietly slipped out of the mansion and set things in motion with the check in hand from Lobelia.

Creating a cure for transcendent syndrome wasn’t exactly easy. The materials were one thing, but the equipment was just as important.

And, surprisingly, a facility equipped for that wasn’t all that far away.

“I know it’s a bit late to ask now, but seriously, Scriptwriter….what the hell did you install under someone else’s territory?”

– A lab.

I grumbled at the humanoid mechanical device.

And Deus, the Scriptwriter speaking to me through that machine, replied without a care.

One of Deus’s many labs scattered across the country happened to be in the Damus Territory.

What were the odds?

…Or at least, that’s what one might think.

Unfortunately, that’s not the case.

This insane bastard snuck into the Damus Territory and built a lab there after he got involved with me.

Most likely to use it as leverage to blackmail me through my connection with Lobelia.

If I had ever spilled the beans to her about Deus, machines from this lab would’ve burst out and turned Damus into a sea of fire.

It’s not so different from what the barbarians would do. Just with a different method.

– Let me see the actual specimen.

“Here it is.”

“Handle it with care. I’m a delicate demon, you know.”

– What is it babbling about? The energy’s surging wildly.

“It’s asking you to be gentle with it.”

– How gentle are we talking? Would it be okay to tear a page or scrape the leather for analysis?

“I didn’t ask, but… I’m guessing no.”

– Picky, aren’t we?

No, that’s just… clearly not what anyone would call gentle.

– Anyway, come inside.

“Ah, mind if I use the lab?”

– You mean the equipment and materials needed to make the transcendent syndrome cure?

“So you were eavesdropping.”

– I was.

No, start with an apology. How are you so shameless after eavesdropping?

Or is shamelessness a requirement to become an ex machina member?

– I’ve left what you’ll need inside, so go ahead and play around.

“Oh.”

Still, I’ll give him this. He’s generous.

Maybe because he doesn’t care about anything that’s not his own experiment.

At this rate, I probably won’t even need that blank check I brought as a bribe.

– Hold on, you are handing over that check.

“……”

– Great experiments always need funding. Come on, hand it over.

“Couldn’t using this recklessly get traced back to us?”

– I’ll just make that Theseus idiot do it.

“You’re not even trying to hide your ties with the First Prince, are you?”

– I don’t make lame excuses for things that are plain as day.

“Of course you don’t.”

He’s so brazen about it, I don’t even feel like pressing further. Just talking with the Scriptwriter is exhausting.

Might as well just go our separate ways.

…Wait a second.

“Is this how researchers of Ex Machina end up as individualistic psychopaths…?”

A sudden chill ran down my spine.

I was one of Ex Machina now, too.

If I stayed surrounded by lunatics like this, I would lose my mind in no time.

***

Is this what you’d expect from the Scriptwriter?

The equipment installed in Deus’s lab was overwhelmingly advanced. Enough to render all my past efforts meaningless.

There’s a reason he’s reached the pinnacle of all scientific fields, from mechanical engineering to alchemy.

Even now, he’s got machines built specifically to fill in exactly what I might be lacking.

A device that analyzes the full chemical makeup the moment a material is added.

A simulator that predicts the probable effects of a completed drug.

With this, I could save an enormous amount of time.

For now, I loaded all the prepared samples into the machines and headed over to where Deus was.

“How’s your experiment going?”

– No good. It’s a bust.

“Didn’t expect you to admit that so easily.”

He’s always so confident. I didn’t think he’d ever acknowledge failure so simply.

“Is there a particular issue?”

– This book is made of pure energy, so it can’t be analyzed. Other than the outward energy readings, there’s no way to determine its nature at the moment.

“I see.”

– These devices aren’t enough to figure it out.

Is it something like a sword energy made of mana?

No, it’s probably more complicated than that.

That’s likely why even Deus, of all people, is at a loss.

– Johan Damus, I’m going to question the demon. You’ll interpret.

“Yes, let’s do that.”

It was ridiculous how naturally he ordered me around, but I didn’t have much choice.

After all, I was the one being accommodated in most respects, and I did carry the symbol of Ex Machina. You could say I was technically Deus’s subordinate.

On top of that, I’ve been making full use of his equipment, so this much is the least I can do.

It’s definitely not because I’m afraid of the missile-looking device attached to the machine I’m speaking with.

– What criteria do demons use to choose their contractors?

The first question. Fortunately, this was something I knew.

“Just like people have preferences, demons supposedly have their own tastes too.”

– Is that all?

“Of course not.”

And just like that, I found myself stuck between an android and a book, acting as a go-between.

What even is this situation?

I had no choice but to keep translating the back-and-forth between Deus and Mephistopheles.

– Next question, then. What’s the structure of a demon contract?

“That question’s too broad. Try narrowing it down.”

Before long, the two of them were conversing naturally. It was nothing but a nuisance for me, stuck between them, but even I had to admit the conversation was full of interesting points.

– Very well. I’ll change the line of questioning. I’ve always been curious about the nature of your contracts. Throughout history, demon contractors have always been more like terrorists, bringing immense harm to the Empire.

“Only those kinds of scum are desperate enough to sell even their souls.”

– That’s not the sort of petty detail I’m asking about.

Well, of course. The Scriptwriter wouldn’t be fazed by the deaths of hundreds of people. He had probably long since cast aside any sense of human morality.

– Most of you possess immense power. If that’s the case, wouldn’t simply lending that power be enough?

“I see where you’re going with this.”

Mephistopheles chuckled.

I’d been thinking this for a while, but even though he’d said he would cooperate, I didn’t expect him to be this forthcoming. Or maybe… he was just bored?

“Even if we form a contract, we can’t use all the power we possess. That’s why we write out the detailed clauses. The more narrowly defined the scope of power, the more powerful and varied the abilities become.”

– I see.

So it wasn’t just about granting power. If the contract narrowed its focus, say to killing a specific individual, it could yield much greater power.

Not that I ever planned to make a deal with Mephistopheles, but this was definitely worth keeping in mind.

If I ever ended up backed into a corner and signed a contract in desperation, only to find the power lacking… well, that’d be the end of me.

– Then how far does that “variety of power” extend?

“Shall I give an example? Typically, a contract with a demon is understood to be one-on-one. However, there are cases where someone commands multiple demons at once.”

It was the story of Tillis.

Since it involved demons, it wasn’t strange for her name to come up.

However…

“Wasn’t that because she used a leaf from the World Tree?”

That didn’t match what I’d heard.

Wasn’t it supposed to be that the leaf of the World Tree could remove the risks of a contract?

“That can’t substitute for the contract itself. It can only heal a damaged soul. If used correctly, it can turn a demon into a spirit, or heal a human whose soul has been damaged by a contract with a demon.”

In that case, what Tillis had told me wasn’t exactly a lie either.

“But servitude is a different matter. If you heal a patient, does that mean you can lay claim to their life?”

This bastard really had a knack for explaining things.

Come to think of it, I’d never heard of an elf who had contracted with multiple spirits. Maybe I’d just failed to find the right documents, but chances were that was the norm.

Mephistopheles continued his explanation with a smug air.

“She probably made a contract along the lines of ‘Bearing the burden in their place’.”

He really must have been bored.

***

Tillis stood atop the ruins.

She simply stared blankly at the space now engulfed in flames, just like her homeland had once been.

Rain fell in steady, quiet drops.

The red raindrops descending from the sky dyed her hair.

That red rain was the blood-tears shed by the demon she had contracted with.

Hidden behind those soft, pure white wings were eyes shedding tears of blood.

“Mastema.”

Those eyes always seemed to cry, as if speaking for someone’s heart.

“Shall we go back now?”

Always.

Bearing everything in silence.