Morning finally broke on the fourth day.
Of course, that’s just a figurative expression—actual sunlight never reached this place.
Instead, Hieronymus arrived with three children, requesting blessings for them. Among them were a confident boy, a confident girl, and a boy who seed utterly cowed.
They stood behind Hieronymus, and one of them, the timid boy, was visibly terrified.
That boy… he might have been brought here against his will.
Hmm. Why would soone be forced into this? They called it a blessing, didn’t they? Wouldn’t there be plenty of volunteers? Yet he was dragged here?
Ah!
I understand now.
They want to see how much a subject’s performance improves when I create a “harvester.” It makes sense; even I’m curious about that.
You need a control subject for proper comparisons.
“Lady Rebecca, if you would be so kind,” Hieronymus said, stepping aside.
I extended my hand. Let’s start with the one most likely to run away. It’ll be amusing if it causes friction among them later.
The most timid boy.
I pointed at him.
“Co forward first.”
Glares.
The other boy and the girl next to him sharpened their gazes at .
Heh. That’s jealousy. It’s the sa look you see in soone’s eyes when they’re about to stab soone. It’s the expression reflected in your opponent’s eyes when betrayal, revenge, and despair take their toll.
You’d be surprised how many people fall into that cycle—betrayed, seeking revenge, then miserably failing and succumbing to despair.
I approached the boy and pressed myself deeper into Rebecca Rolf’s body. The flesh cracked as though it were shattering, and dark-purple mist began to seep out.
That mist was .
I extended myself, letting the mist reach the boy. A vivid light, accompanied by faint warmth, t my touch. The light was large and bright, but the warmth was minimal?
I truly don’t understand the correlation.
Regardless, I pushed myself into the light as I had done with Joanna. Though the temptation to steal its warmth was overwhelming, I held back here.
You have to invest to reap greater rewards later!
As the dark-purple mist touched the light, the light began to turn black. This process differed slightly from when I absorbed the sacrificial victim’s warmth.
This light retained its form. Back then, the light had shrunk.
If this light truly behaves like light, then it’s as if all but one wavelength has been stripped away, leaving only a singular band. But I doubt it actually adheres to the properties of light.
Eventually, the light at the core of the boy dimd, turning into a faintly violet-tinged black.
Huh?
Unlike Joanna, his body didn’t crack to reveal blue skin, nor did his eyes change into black sclera.
Instead, he simply trembled violently.
An odd boy, this Tisaha. He’d been kidnapped at a very young age and brought to the Future Hope Sect, where he’d been raised through indoctrination like the other children.
Yet, he harbored doubts. Doubts about the teachings they were given and about the god they claid to serve.
Why does bodily explosion equate to salvation? Why believe in a god who aids despairing souls yet preach about hope for the future?
His questions were entirely reasonable.
He had stopped voicing these doubts after realizing that asking only drew hostility. Eventually, he learned that questioning was dangerous. For years, he hadn’t spoken a word of his doubts.
But he wasn’t fully brainwashed.
During training and other activities, he pretended to be enthusiastic. Oh, was that why this had happened?
There was one thing he hadn’t done.
“I will offer myself to you. In return, when you’ve finished everything, I will take everything you’ve gained. What do you think?”
Thump.
Hmm. His heart is pounding noisily. Thump, thump. He’s tense.
The proposal might sound dangerous, but it’s not actually a bad deal.
I give you power; you use it freely. When you die, I’ll collect what you’ve built. Simple. The warmth from lives you’ve taken in the process? Consider it a dividend.
It’s not a deal with a devil binding him through unknown forces. I’m not even giving specific orders. It’s entirely up to him.
I waited for his response, but he kept trembling, unable to speak.
Only his heart raced uncontrollably.
Thump, thump.
This, at least, confird that I could still see things from Tisaha’s perspective. Even without words, I could sense that if he killed soone, I would gain warmth from it.
“If you don’t want it, I’ll take it back.”
I was curious about what would happen if I completely withdrew myself from him.
Drip, drip. Beads of sweat fell from the boy’s trembling form as he tensed his entire body.
“I… I’ll make the contract, my apostle.”
Apostle?
Ah, that’s what Hieronymus had ntioned before. Since I’d rejected the notion of being the god Krssaksshibal, he’d decided to introduce as that god’s apostle.
But I’m no apostle. Let’s clarify this contract.
“Call Rebecca, human.”
I still wanted to keep the knowledge about licking light to read mories to myself. Knowing this boy’s na without an introduction would seem suspicious. Hieronymus had only introduced them as children seeking divine power.
“I… I’ll make the contract, Lady Rebecca.”
“Good.”
However, the dramatic results I’d anticipated didn’t occur. His previously light brown hair simply darkened into violet.
A murmur of awe ca from the background.
The other two children stared at Tisaha with envy, expectation, and jealousy. Joanna remained at a distance, while Hieronymus watched the creation of a harvester with sharp eyes.
Now then, who’s next?
I was curious what would happen if those imbued with my power fought each other, so I decided to fuel the jealousy.
I pointed to the girl next.
“You’re next.”
“Yes, ma’am!” she responded cheerfully, walking up to .
I repeated the sa process: releasing the dark-purple mist, letting it seep into her light. This ti, the light was bright and filled with abundant warmth.
Oh, this feels so warm. Should I take it? Since there’s always a risk of failure, maybe just one bite…
No, that wouldn’t do. A single lie can unravel everything. To deceive for the long term, always tell the truth.
So, despite the temptation to steal the warmth, I dyed the light black.
Her na is Isla.
She, too, had been kidnapped at a young age but demonstrated remarkable physical talent. Thus, she was trained as a warrior.
The cult seed to run a systematic program, identifying children with potential. From Tisaha alone, it wasn’t clear, but seeing Isla confird it.
Every child received rigorous physical training under the guise of “building basic strength.” Gender didn’t matter. For a cult like this, training martial practitioners was imnsely useful. It allowed for efficient rewards and punishnts.
Through training, punishnt beca a ans to strengthen tools rather than break them. It was an impressively thorough education plan.
As expected, Hieronymus wasn’t an ordinary person. He hadn’t built this cult purely on charisma; he had vast knowledge. It seed highly likely he had experience managing a large social structure.
For , this was excellent. Soone like him could operate the harvesters far more effectively.
Isla, however, wasn’t particularly complicated. She had talent, received much praise, and harbored an ambition to beco the most prominent figure in the group. That was it.
So, when Witega requested candidates for the blessing, Isla had imdiately volunteered.
“I will offer myself to you. In return, when you’ve finished everything, I will take everything you’ve gained.”
I asked her after already confirming the situation. I had considered starting with this question, but if the process failed, I’d lose all the data. That’s why I tested the light first before making the offer.
Looking at with sparkling eyes, Isla responded.
“I agree, Lady Rebecca!”
Her response ca without hesitation. Perhaps witnessing Tisaha’s transformation had reassured her; she didn’t call “apostle” but addressed directly as “Rebecca.”
Crack.
Suddenly, Isla grew taller, her height increasing by nearly a handspan. Unlike Joanna, whose body had shattered to reveal a new form beneath, Isla’s transformation was less dramatic—her fra beca slightly leaner, giving her a more mature and imposing figure.
Her once light-brown hair turned violet at the roots, with the tips taking on a reddish hue. It was clear that over ti, her hair would beco entirely violet.
Her skin grew much paler, to the point of appearing almost ghostly white from a distance. Her eyes shifted to a deep violet as well.
And that was it for her transformation.
Rising to her feet, Isla hopped on the spot, beaming before returning to her place with a spring in her step.
Finally, the last boy stepped forward. He had been staring at Isla in amazent and only hurried to after realizing it was his turn.
I repeated the sa process: connecting the dark-purple mist to his light and “tasting” it to glean his mories. This boy’s na was Wide.
Unlike the kidnapped children, Wide had been born into the Future Hope Sect. As a child of cult mbers, he had inherited their beliefs, teachings, and expectations.
He also bore the burden of his parents’ aspirations.
Even in the human world, parents often imposed their dreams onto their children—pushing them into competitive environnts, demanding high achievents.
Fortunately for Wide, he had talent. Excelling in his training, he seized every opportunity to prove himself superior to others.
“I will offer myself to you. In return, when you’ve finished everything, I will take everything you’ve gained. Do you agree?”
“Yes, Lady Rebecca.”
Crack.
The contract was complete. Wide’s transformation was similar to Isla’s. His height increased, making him look as though he had aged several more years in an instant. With his short hair, the transition was more striking—his locks turned entirely violet. His skin, like Isla’s, beca deathly pale.
There was one notable difference: violet flas erupted from his hands. Startled, Wide instinctively tried to extinguish the flas, only to realize they weren’t hot. He paused, observing his burning hands, before clenching his fists. The flas disappeared. Opening his hands again, the fire reignited.
Mastering this new ability almost imdiately, Wide turned toward with a sense of joy. However, his elation faltered when his gaze t Hieronymus’s.
Hieronymus, wearing an unreadable but stern expression, stared at him.
Wide quickly bowed to before scurrying back to the others, as though retreating from Hieronymus’s silent judgnt. With the children now assembled, Hieronymus stepped forward.
“Blessed Apostle of our god, we thank you for bestowing your blessings upon these children. May we praise this joy and offer eternal glory to our god. May the future forever be filled with hope.”
Delivering this closing statent, Hieronymus led the children out of the room.
Wide’s transformation intrigued . The variations in how each person responded to my power were fascinating. There was much to analyze—for both Hieronymus and .
In any case, the first objective was accomplished: harvester count 3!
Now, it was ti to observe the changes.
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