“Yes, we are going to replace it with bones.”
My voice echoed once again, reinforcing my decision while I looked at rlin, informing him of the changes Mikan and I settled on.
“Bones it is…” He shrugged, looking at the fourth revision of the internal structure of the airship, where its primary power sources would be constructed. "If you really are SURE of this..."
“I am sure of it.” Mikan said soothingly, smiling at rlin. "They will be the perfect material to house its two cores.”
“I can understand the logic, and I read your reports, Lady Mikan. I am still skeptical about whether they will perform as we expect them to. There is a chance for a reaction that we are unaware of, and that could set us back trendously.”
“There will be a reaction.” Mikan nodded, “That is why we must do it here and now; this is a special case. A chance we can’t replicate with the chs or other monster cores.”
It took Mikan a few days to convince , but after I saw the results of her prototype, I was positive that it would work as she described. She had been studying the two corpses we brought back and dismantled, and in the end, she concluded that if we built our airship’s fra around its two core CCs of their bones, they would function at an increased rate.
She demonstrated it by surrounding one of the cores with ticulously arranged bones from its original body. She explained how she noticed which runes were in a repeated pattern on the bones closer to the beast’s core, and so she reconstructed it, tweaking it to fit in place. It took her weeks to finish, but it was imdiately evident that it indeed had an effect.
I couldn’t tell or feel it, but when Sasha ca to check it out, she confird that the feeling the CC was giving off was twice as stable and resonating with her. If not for Mikan, who also felt the change and was probably more attuned to it than Sasha or rlin, we wouldn’t have known. Still, the logic was there. The monsters grow these bones according to the laws of our world to house their cores. It is only natural that they have a connection with it, even in death.
“At least this arrived in ti before we would have to dismantle it,” rlin muttered, looking at the changed plans. “The outer fra of the ship is already completed. For now, it is a skeleton only; we have yet to apply its tal shielding.”
“Leave that to the end; first, finish the interior.” I nodded, tapping on my table, “What is your estimation? When will it be ready?”
“Before winter.”
“That fast?” I sat up straight because sothing like this should have taken years, if not more, even in my old life.”
“Of course! Our best people are working on it!” rlin answered with a look of surprise. “With our tools, the most challenging part of moving heavy materials is literally nonexistent, Leon. We can lift and place them quickly, wherever they are needed. The part that slows us down is when formations are involved. It requires one of our presence so they are put down perfectly.”
It seems I have been a bit out of the loop. Well, I can’t really bla myself or anything else because, first, there was the news of war breaking out in Ishillia. Then ca the Atuvian rchants and the discovery of oil. I had to set up the fuel project, recruit the people most suited for it, and design their laboratories outside of city limits. It took so ti, but they were now working on coming up with the correct thod to start producing kerosene for . After that project was launched, I spent my previous weeks focusing on my children instead of anything else. Sasha and I began teaching them runes and formations, introducing them to magic as a system and not just an abstract feeling they followed by instinct.
It was essential to do this, especially after learning that my son’s mind was being coerced by sothing or soone. He had to learn not to go with people who offered magical candy to him. I wanted him to be safe, so we decided to start teaching and arming him with skills that would protect him against anything the future may throw at him.
“How’s the Westland?” I asked, shaking my head to regain focus, continuing our quick eting in the morning.
“Major Pion’s last ssage detailed that the city is stable and the Zimrmanns are implenting the changes we wanted. The three sons have been sent West as our envoys into Lacri. We have yet to hear back from them... The Major also suggested that if we had to, we could recall the Rook as the region is stable enough to maintain order without it.”
“How’s the railway project going?” I asked, pulling Mikan into my lap in the anti, gently stroking her belly, knowing I had my fourth child growing within.
“It is progressing according to plans,” rlin reported, tilting his head and thinking back about it. “We are already stretching towards Westland, connecting all the minor regions, including Greyback. Down south, Empress Mirian is also doing the sa. Oh yes, a letter ca from her yesterday. She has requested that we start negotiating a price... She wants to buy the plans for building a train.”
“Sell it to her.” I nodded at once, making his eyes go wide.
“B-but…”
“Sell it to her,” I repeated with Mikan in my lap, blushing because I was snuggling up to her from behind. “We are at war, and we need all the advantages. The train is a tool that will help us overco supply-line problems and strengthen us. Set it up now and not when we are at war! I have already said this many tis, rlin, but I need to make so improvents to spread around the world. Otherwise, I would also be limited by what surrounds . Let the others draft up a proposal, and let’s get on with it, okay? It will still take ti for her people to get used to it, gain experience, and manufacture one that is on par with ours. They won't have the ti to experint if their borders are being assaulted by Ishillian armies!”
“I… I understand.” He sighed, not objecting to the idea anymore. “Anything else, My Sovereign?”
“With all that is going on,” I shrugged, lifting Mikan out of my hold and standing up, “We must focus on the airship. It needs to be ready before the flas of war reach us. We have a few months or maybe a year to do that… I don’t think Pascal would be patient enough to wait for us to make the first step.”
…
….
……
“The spells are ready, my Emperor.” Echoed the subservient voice within the Eternal Emperor's mind.
“Good…” Pascal humd, receiving a ntal ssage from Kiva, who was overseeing the eastern part of the Empire. That simply ant that he was the one holding down the rebelling Kingdom of Scorc, his iron fist dripping from blood. “Feed it the required souls; use the worthless rebels to fuel its fire.”
“We can use it in its large-scale mode whenever you are ready.”
“Gradual refinent is what I need right now. A sudden influx of essence could be… hard to control.” He answered after a brief pause, opening his eyes and looking down on his body. The hand that was severed before had been replaced and was now attached to his body anew. It was clearly soone else’s arm as the skin was way smoother, with fewer blotches and a shade darker than his, yet it moved when he wished so... still, he needed to get used to it.
“Understood, Master.” With that, Kiva’s mind retreated from Pascal’s, probably attending to new reports, readying to massacre another group of partisans.
“Shed more blood for ,” the age-old emperor muttered, standing up and walking towards the full-sized mirror in his room. He watched his scrawny, ancient skin smooth out, unnaturally reverting to a younger shade.
It wasn’t imdiately visible, but he noticed it, and he knew where to look. He felt it. Where his skin was paper-thin before, cracking and flaking off, it now beca elastic once again. The millions of creases were slowly retreating, disappearing from his face, while the splotches all over his body were shrinking day by day. He was getting younger.
If war demanded sacrifice, Pascal Ishillia demanded it even more. All the lives lost on the battlefield, especially in the Eastern regions, were put to good use. His students were still working on it, setting up the sa forbidden spell that kept their Master alive throughout the centuries. While regular human lives ant a drop in a bucket, in tis like this, they were at least sowhat useful in larger quantities.
“Maybe if a million or two perishes.” Pascal smiled for the first ti in a long ti. He was holding onto his staff while licking his dry, parched lips, waiting to be young again. Although it would not turn him back to how it was when he was in his pri, he would at least no longer look like a ghoul but like a proper emperor. To look like how an old man should. “The Vasas were indeed a scourge.” He scoffed, walking away and checking on the skull every month, but since the last ti, it has never been reactivated as before.
He couldn’t help but feel that it was just… a fluke. But in magic, that is not an option. Especially not if it was related to them. His magic, the spell that allowed him to consu the lifeblood and essence of others, was sothing he created, mixing the remnants of the Emperor of Magic’s works and what was left behind by the Vasas, however little knowledge it was. He may not have admitted it, not even to himself, but he should have looked for more clues before designing his Master-level spell. It wasn't perfect… it caused him to be stuck within the city since then, locked away within the palace itself, bound to the focal point of the formation. He beca unable to ever leave its premises, or he would risk turning to ash at once. Even worse, its effects were weakening with every passing decade, and he could not co up with a thod to stop it from deteriorating.
“Maybe it was a sign…” He whispered, turning away from the skull, leaving his underground vault, “Maybe the solution is in the North. I will have to capture Mirian… Mhm. Yes. I will do that. This war will feed enough, give ti to find out more, and fix everything. Yes. Yes… That will do.”
The way he was speaking while walking, leaning on his staff, was akin to a deranged man waddling around a psychiatric ward, unable to realize he was no longer the sa man he once was. Pascal couldn’t admit that he had fallen into a quagmire that kept dragging him down deeper and deeper into madness. There was no escape from it, no matter how many tis he tried to extend his life. Death was coming for him, and he could feel its breath on the back of his neck every ti he closed his eyes.
…
….
……
“Dad! Dad! Look!” Arthur yelled, running up to with his tiny legs. Despite being almost three, he was running as if he were an adult, his balance and movent perfectly in sync, adapting to the little baby fat still on his body.
“What is it?” I chuckled, crouching after entering the playroom they had for themselves. I looked towards Yuri with a smile, who was playing with Leyla and Lancelot, building a tower from wooden blocks.
“Look!” he repeated, stretching his right arm towards Leyla, his fingers spread wide, palm facing straight ahead… Then, the building block flew out of my daughter's hand, making her yell out.
“ARTHUR!” She flared up, mimicking her brother’s move, doing the sa as the block suddenly stopped in mid-air, trembling while floating there as the two were grappling for it via magic…
“…”
I couldn’t help but be amazed while Yuri just rolled her eyes, mouthing to that they were at it for a long ti. Even Lancelot looked unimpressed, continuing to build alone, sitting in his mother’s lap, asking by stretching to be lifted up so he could put the new piece at the top.
“Okay! Stop!” I finally stepped in, grabbing the piece of wood and plucking it out of the air. I felt a tug of force while I did so. It was like when you try to push opposing magnets together, like an invisible force enveloping it. When I interfered, my twins fell to their buttocks, moaning and rubbing their bottom because of the unexpected intervention. Good, it will be their punishnt for this mischief. “How?” I asked, looking at them questioningly, crossing my arms.
“Magic!” Arthur answered proudly, but I just looked at him sternly, finally making him realize I wasn’t asking that.
My curiosity ca from the fact that I did not see any formation being activated… I needed their mother to be here and see this!
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