As soon as I stepped outside, a blue light sparkled in the distance, revealing several buildings buried in ice.
I wasn’t the only one drawn out by the boom.
Even the people staying at the inn I just came from stumbled out to see what was going on, while some folks from nearby homes came out wielding weapons.
Maybe it’s just the world we live in, but quite a few people were sporting swords or wearing armor.
I crossed through the crowd, heading toward the most chaotic scene in this village.
It’s a village with such a low density that there are hardly any buildings over three stories, yet there are a lot of people.
A suffocating smell of burning mingles with a faint metallic scent.
In the heart of the city,
there’s an area surrounded by barbed wire,
where soldiers and civilians are clashing.
You’d usually think that when soldiers and civilians fight, the soldiers should kill without mercy, but here many individuals possess a certain level of military power.
And that certain level isn’t just about swinging a stick.
There are people wielding swords and clubs, and some are even defending themselves with shields while powerful magic is being cast from behind.
If the civilians seem like a force out of a fantasy world, then the army opposing them looks like a military from a more futuristic era, using mechanical puppets as weapons.
It’s strange.
What’s strange, you ask? Well, there are no mechanical puppet users among the civilians.
Unless they’re an extreme poor, mechanical puppets aren’t generally used.
If you think about the mechanical puppets that suddenly started killing from an airship, you can get the general idea—it seems they’ve become unusable for some reason.
As I was gradually piecing together the situation, I arrived at the battlefield. With my brain being a bit dim, reality hit me before I could fully grasp anything.
“Uaaaaargh!”
Next to me, a man with half his body scorched by fire was wailing. In a battlefield where magic flies, lives are lost in various ways.
Guess it’s fortunate he didn’t die instantly.
I squatted beside the man and waited until his screams subsided. During that time, he seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, his body losing strength.
After enduring until he reached a point where he needed to cling to even a rotten rope, I asked,
“Do you want to live?”
The man muttered a yes. He was too weak to say it out loud, but I understood.
So I recited the contract document.
“I will give you my power. In return, when you’ve finished everything later, I’ll take everything you’ve got. What do you say?”
Given the context, it sounds odd. Asking if he wants to live right before offering myself. If one were in their right mind, they’d probably wonder what I was babbling about.
But in a situation like this, wouldn’t you grab at anything, even straws?
Thwhack!
Soon, his whole body hardened like porcelain, then crumbled, revealing blue skin. Oh? He really was dying.
Usually, losing limbs or experiencing serious illness ends up with white skin.
Anyway,
the man stood up with a dazed face. After I stood up as well, I told him,
“Do what you want to do.”
Then I moved on to the next target.
Among those who witnessed the man’s revival, someone who was injured approached first.
I recited the contract document.
That person healed their injuries.
With each time I healed someone, more and more people watched, and gradually, they started running to me, crying for help.
Hehe.
“That brat is healing people! Kill her!”
At that moment, someone shouted loudly from the soldiers’ side. Looking over, I saw a soldier in brass armor approaching me, weapon raised.
Then the harvesting period stepped in with a serious expression, blocking them.
During the harvesting period, all abilities become generally enhanced, even those that use magic power.
Those who once fell in battle were now returning even stronger.
And their intelligence increased too.
Meaning they’d exploit weaknesses better.
As the balance of power shifted, the soldiers began to falter. The injured transformed into harvesters and dashed back into the fray.
Someone’s fortune is someone else’s misfortune. To catch me, the soldier’s clunky brass armor blasted blue magic toward me, soaring into the air.
But sadly, every attack from them ended in failure.
Just after taking off, they were struck by magic coming from all directions and crashed to the ground. The dynamics of battle shifted.
The soldiers aimed to kill me, while the civilians fought to protect me.
As the soldiers’ corpses began piling up, I approached a soldier. A badly damaged one trapped in crumpled brass armor.
His side was half-blown open, filled with ruined mechanical parts. It was a wound that could have easily been fatal.
I leaned closer, reciting the contract document.
The moment I did, the surroundings fell silent.
“Wh—what?”
The dying soldier asked.
So I simply replied,
“Because you’re dying.”
I believed he wouldn’t refuse the harvesting period. And he responded to that belief.
His body transformed like porcelain, and the brass armor cracked, revealing a man with blue skin emerging akin to hatching from an egg.
“You can do what you want from now on.”
Then he plunged his head to the ground. In other words, he bowed to me.
“I will follow you.”
There was something religiously fervent about it. And what’s even scarier is how quickly that sentiment spread.
Around me, one by one, people bowed in my direction.
Hold on, isn’t it strange for people to create a cult unintentionally? Shouldn’t they be thanking me for my morals, saying “Thanks for healing me”?
Or at least have a more ungrateful reaction like “Thank you for treating me, now die!”?
The act of becoming harvesters has no brainwashing effect!
“Bell? What’s… happening…?”
Turning my head, I saw Victoria standing a bit away. Nearby, Polaris was trembling while holding onto the hem of Victoria’s garment.
But why does Victoria look like she’s expecting this all along?
Is she acting as if it’s only natural for me to be worshiped? Excuse me? Has she forgotten our first encounter?
That monstrous fish that was over 7 meters long?
Everything around is eerily quiet now. Apart from the loud voices yelling for her to kill me from the fortress surrounded by barbed wire in the distance, everything feels strangely still.
As if the fighting has ceased, the soldiers bow their heads toward me.
No… Well…
Let’s just use this. Right now, I need more harvesters. The person giving commands for the attack here might not be the one who set all this chaos into motion.
Thus, I need more harvesters.
If mechanical puppets turn against us, we’ll be at a disadvantage. So I need more eyes to assess the situation.
“Bring the injured here.”
While this might seem like it would increase my worshippers, I can toss them aside later if needed.
As soon as I finished speaking, severely injured people were brought to me from the surrounding.
As I accumulated injured people before me, I approached them and recited the contract document.
Given that it feels like a civil war, there are even those who were turned into harvesters earlier among them. I’ll let them be. Once someone becomes a harvester, healing is no longer possible.
To become a harvester means tossing a cup into a puddle, which is me. Once I fill that cup, they become harvesters.
It’s irreversible. Once something has been thrown in, it can’t be taken out again.
You want me to take it out and put it back? Why would I do that? Why should I toss away the warmth in my hands? I’d rather create the next harvester.
Anyway, ignoring those who have become harvesters will prove they’re not worthy of my worship.
Then, it happened.
A faint beam of light shot from behind a building and brushed past where I stood. At that moment, the memory of the recently acquired harvester flickered.
The precursor to the great weapon, Craft Nine.
And this Craft Nine is the weapon that fired beams targeting airships.
Oh no.
*
A thin thread of light shot from the wall of the building, reaching over to the other side and connecting with a building across the way.
At the moment when people wondered what that light was,
“Everyone dodge!”
A soldier nearest to Bell yelled, throwing himself to shield Bell.
Most people, including Victoria, froze in place, unsure of what he meant, but a few sensed the danger and moved.
For instance, the soldier wrapping around Bell, people who instinctively dodged, or Polaris, who held onto Victoria’s hem and wanted to escape the scene.
They hurled themselves into the beam’s path, clutching their precious belongings.
And then…
Fwoosh!
A thick column of light replaced the space where the thin beam had been, creating an incredible wave of heat that seared the air around it.
Immediately, dozens of people present were vaporized by the beam.
Meanwhile, Polaris, who had pulled Victoria close, absorbed the shockwave on her back.
The Craft Nine weapon was designed to take down massive targets like aerial fortresses or colossal flying monsters.
What would happen if it was fired in an urban area?
The overwhelming firepower didn’t just evaporate everything in its path but instantly heated the surrounding air, creating shockwaves that would spread further destruction.
But the attack itself was just a simple beam.
The light soon faded, leaving behind only the scorched path it had burned into the ground, with rising heat waves distorting the view.
Thanks to Polaris hugging her tightly, Victoria avoided fatal injuries. As soon as she felt the arms around her dissipate, she stood up,
and the blazing hell came into view.
She glanced at Polaris beside her and involuntarily gasped.
Polaris was dying with severe burns on her back, most of her hair singed away. Without some form of emergency treatment, she would die.
Thinking that, Victoria instinctively searched for Bell.
Praying that Bell would somehow heal her.
Among the boiling ground and charred corpses, or among the people dying from burns, Victoria spotted the person she yearned for.
Or rather, she discovered who she had wished for.
A delicate white hand and hem.
It was Bell’s hand.
Yet, there was nothing beyond that. Charred, blackened flesh extended up to the elbow, revealing a pale bone beyond.
What was left was bubbling and melting away.
The moment she realized what that meant.
“Uaaaargh!”
Victoria roared.
Now, let’s take a look at the psychic abilities Victoria possesses.
She can manipulate water.
Filled with rage, she half-lost her sanity and summoned all her strength.
And this is a port city.
Water is everywhere.
As if resonating with Victoria’s fury, the moisture in the air, as well as the seawater nearby, flew upwards towards her.
Streams of water extended and gathered above her head, forming a mass.
The gathered water gradually filled the skies, and soon the sky turned into a surface of water.
Then, the water continued to draw from the distant ocean, its volume swelling.
Before long, the small port city was submerged underwater.
Deep beneath the waves, in the pitch-black abyss, the girl created a prison of unyielding hatred, vowing to leave no enemy alive as she took a deep breath and exhaled.
Then, with a determined expression, Victoria Bet began to crush her foes.
Just as she had done at Daegon’s forward base.
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