While Bel Diran might be the kingdom's capital, with air pollution less severe than Nolan City's, that didn't an its outskirts were devoid of towering smokestacks and factories that consud the slum populations.
Night had completely fallen, yet the factory machines churned on without rest. It was obvious that in a world yet to achieve full automation, the ceaseless hum of machinery signified the endless toil of its workers.
The Bel Diran Second Machinery Factory stood in the northern part of the city. The factory had been established back when the steam industry was first dawning, founded with funding from the queen in her youth, making it a private asset of the royal family.
The factory primarily manufactured precision-machined alloys and simple industrial tal goods, making it the most important steelworks in the Bel Diran region. It sprawled over a vast area, a hive of ceaseless, fiery activity day and night.
Here, workers burned away their lives for the ager wages needed to support their families, while the products they forged beca the very pillars upholding the city's progress.
The factory's southwest corner held the workers' dormitories and warehouses. This arrangent not only made the commute more convenient for the single, unattached n but also made them easier to manage. And where there were dormitories, small company-owned shops inevitably followed—a convenient way to reclaim so of the shillings paid out as wages. It was rumored that for a while, the factory owner had even considered replacing cash wages with company scrip.
Under the cover of darkness, the short lady and Jenkins entered the factory. Workers changing shifts brushed past them, yet all instinctively moved aside, clearing a path. It was as if no one even noticed the two strangers, whose fine clothes were utterly out of place.
They made their way to a simple, brick-and-stone shop in front of the workers' dormitories. As if sensing their approach, the shop's owner stepped out just as they arrived, looking up to see two figures walking toward him, silhouetted by the moonlight.
"Williatte... who in the world are you?"
Hiding out here to recover from his injuries, Carl noticed Alexia instantly. Having been a demigod for a long ti, he could easily tell she was on the threshold of that sa power. Yet he also saw that this short woman was different—different from him, different from any demigod he had ever known, though he couldn't quite articulate how.
But one thing was certain: she couldn't be a demigod from the Sage Church. If she were, a divine arcane lock would have already enveloped the area.
"Does it matter who I am?"
Jenkins shook his head. His right hand reached into the air beside him, and he drew forth the White Bone Holy Sword.
"You shouldn't have threatened ."
"That sword? You really are one of the Believers of Lies. I wasn't mistaken last night... Are you so kind of hybrid believer?"
"No, I'm not a hybrid believer."
As he spoke, Jenkins charged at Carl. Spirit surged from within him and into the holy sword, causing the blade to gleam faintly in the darkness. As Jenkins lunged, a phantom of white light shot from the sword's tip.
Behind Jenkins, Alexia had already raised the blue cube in her right hand. A complex geotric pattern assembled behind her into a runic disc, while a grid of intersecting blue fluorescent lines—parallel and perpendicular—materialized at her feet.
Her Mathematical Principles, the core of Alexia's power, had now evolved into sothing Jenkins could no longer comprehend. But he could feel the force gathering behind him, and he saw a shockwave of blue energy strike Carl an instant before his own attack landed.
A transparent shield materialized in Carl's hand, intercepting Alexia's attack first, then bracing against the full force of Jenkins's sword.
But the shield couldn't block the sword's innate undead curse. That, combined with the severe injuries Carl was already suffering from his multiple resurrections, ant the two blows were enough to make him cough up a mouthful of blood.
Realizing he was in serious trouble, Carl shot into the sky. Amid the shocked cries of the factory workers below, Alexia, her face hidden, and Jenkins, mounted on his unicorn, took flight as well.
The three of them soared above the city, a glittering tapestry of streetlights and countless glowing windows below. Wiping the blood from his lips, Carl reached into his pocket and pulled out a test tube filled with a rust-colored liquid.
"These are the Gear Germs I acquired from the Gear Artisans' Association not long ago. Let leave, or I'll drop this into the city."
"You think I care?"
Jenkins sneered and struck out with his sword. Carl twisted aside to dodge the blow, then hurled the test tube forward as he spun around and fled in the opposite direction.
Mounted on his unicorn, Jenkins shot off in the direction the test tube had vanished, while Alexia pursued Carl, sticking to him relentlessly.
Unlike Jenkins, who couldn't fly and lacked ranged attacks, both of them had reached their current level through genuine talent and effort. Two streaks of light clashed across the night sky, their battle punctuated by phantom runes and small explosions.
The chase eventually led them back over the heart of Bel Diran, where it was clear Alexia had gained the upper hand.
"I don't know what your relationship with Williatte is, but let go, and you can have anything you want."
Carl pleaded, looking disheveled, his eyes locked on the small woman before him.
"What I want, you can't give ."
The space around the short woman filled almost completely with glowing, vertical blue lines. Her aura grew more astonishing with every flicker of light. The spirit within the blue cube in her hand swelled, threatening to shatter its confines, and even Alexia's eyes seed to shimr with a brilliant blue glow.
She hovered in mid-air as the wind swept past, pulling tassel-like blue phantoms from her form. Within this srizing vision lay all the knowledge Alexia had mastered. The mont she had sought for so long was finally here.
"Before Jenkins invited here tonight, I hadn't realized the final problem I faced on the threshold of becoming a demigod. Now I understand. To advance, I am missing one crucial confrontation. I need to prove to this world that I can kill a demigod. By doing so, I will prove that I already am one."
Her lips never moved; the words simply resonated through the air, carried by her spirit alone.
"What nonsense is this?" Carl couldn't help but retort, a dark premonition seizing him. "To beco a demigod, a human only needs to find clarity in their own path! There's no need to prove anything to anyone."
"No, I am not like the rest of you. Therefore, I need my proof. Alfons Carl, today, I must kill you. And when I do, I will be a demigod!"
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