Divius summoned Orthes to his workshop. Of course, this was necessary to precisely measure Orthes’ body for the artificial skin he was going to wear.
However, Divius didn’t call Orthes just for the task assigned to him.
He felt curiosity towards Orthes.
The attendants, created to serve a single individual from birth to death. Divius believed Orthes was an attendant made for Carisia.
What on earth do such beings think as they live? What kind of manipulation was done to their brains to make that possible?
Surgery? Long-term brainwashing? Or perhaps interference at the genetic level?
It was really regrettable; was this something that could be ‘clicked’ away with magic that manipulates the mind?
How do they perceive the master they must serve for their entire lives?
“The boss just wants a fake skin that can pass the Blasphemia’s skin certification, right? Not a modification at the muscle fiber level?”
“Of course. I’m scared of getting a knife in my body too.”
That wasn’t even a funny joke. I’ve never seen a smile twist even in the midst of blood and blades on the battlefield.
But since it was my own line, I may as well have some fun with it.
“Oh? Then which is scarier, the wrathful boss or a blind blade?”
“The boss, obviously. That’s a given.”
Ho-ho, controlling through fear, huh?
Divius examined Orthes’ expression through his helmet. However, Orthes’s face, which deemed ‘the boss scary,’ was entirely calm.
*
That doctor. I noticed something was off since he had an avant-garde fashion, wearing nothing but a white gown over his underwear and just a helmet.
Clearly, he wasn’t in his right mind.
When you compare someone holding a sword and someone firing a beam, obviously the one firing the beam is more frightening.
I answered casually.
“Isn’t it the same for you, Director? Being fearful of the boss?”
Who, after all, is the employer that pays the directors? From the employee’s perspective, their employer is a being they can’t help but fear.
*
The question of ‘Aren’t you also afraid of Carisia?’ was a truthful one.
Including Carisia’s strong magical skills and the possibility that her true identity could reach the upper echelons of the Ten Towers.
‘Now that I think about it, Carisia and Orthes were aware that I once handled Blasphemia’s modification surgery…’
Then this wasn’t just a simple warning; it was a message.
‘You ought to be afraid of Carisia,’ was the implication. No matter how you perceive Carisia’s identity, there would be a being even more terrifying than that.
“Looks like I got hit. Did the tower teach that?”
Using old-time metaphorical language, it was a ‘noble’ way of speaking. A delicate warning using metaphorical language. It seems that those directly serving the tower receive a considerable level of education.
“The tower? Nah, I just learned it as I rolled around.”
‘What on earth is that guy talking about.’
Being in a situation where you can’t receive money from your employer must be a universal complaint among all workers. Orthes shrugged.
*
Orthes’s body measurement results were ordinary. If anything, it indicated that he had high magic control, as no magic field was detected emanating from him.
Magic compression, a necessary technique for a high-level combat mage to conceal their presence. Understanding this, Divius brought enough biological fibers to cover Orthes’ entire body.
“If you can conceal the magic field to that extent, there’s no risk of being detected due to the artificial skin’s magic feeling out of place. But just to be sure, could you release some magic?”
Orthes shook his head.
‘As expected.’
Results of analyzing magical properties are typically not shared even among other members of the Great Temple unless they are close aides. This is because it holds clues as to what spells a mage can use and how to defeat them.
Divius abandoned his attempt to pry into Orthes and got to work. He carefully cut and stitched the biological fibers according to the measurements, like sewing.
Precision processing on a micro level. He wove the patterns of Blasphemia’s unique muscle fiber, serving a role similar to a fingerprint for the magic that would flow through the emblem bestowed by Carisia.
While crafting the artificial skin, Divius threw questions at Orthes. They seemed like idle curiosities but were actually a means to ascertain the mental structure of an attendant.
Just in case there was a possibility that he wasn’t an attendant.
“Is it hard working under the boss? You seem to be given more work than the average director.”
“I consider it a sign of trust.”
The immediate response popped out in less than a second. Divius altered his thoughts.
‘There’s no way such a person isn’t an attendant.’
‘Is this guy trying to assassinate me? Does he think I’d whine about not wanting to work for Carisia and then face some kind of consequence?’
Orthes was seriously pondering whether Divius disliked him. Did this guy have a strong desire for power? Did he see me as an obstacle to his rise?
‘If you want to be the closest aide, I can consider handing it to you…’
Imagining another person existing as Carisia’s aide instead of himself made Orthes feel a surprisingly unpleasant sensation.
Whether it would be now or later, his goal was simply to quit and live well. Once he quit, he would naturally be distanced from Carisia. Then what would be the problem?
‘Ah.’
It was still too early to quit.
‘It’s the year 2076 now. Given that there’s a chance the protagonist who will resurrect in 2077 might clash with Carisia and bring the world to ruin, I can’t afford to quit for a while.’
Nodding, Orthes added.
“I don’t particularly enjoy work either.”
Hearing that, Divius added a line to his notebook.
[It’s assumed that attendants have unconditional affection and loyalty towards their master.]
*
A stray member unexpectedly emerged from the Vicada Traveling Troupe. It was Niobe, who had met Orthes.
“No way. Why do you suddenly want to leave like this?”
Vicada had been planning to sell her for a high price after hearing from Orthes that she had ‘magic talent’ one day.
She was an orphan who’d find it hard to starve and had been dazzled by the glamorous exterior since joining the troupe, so she was a commodity without repercussions if sold off secretly. She had even rationalized that living a research life in the Great Temple would be better than this wandering lifestyle.
But saying “I want to leave” so openly in front of other troupe members was something they could hardly insist on holding her back.
“I’m scared. That person.”
She was talking about the high-ranking mage Orthes, who had visited last night. Was she terrified after meeting a high-ranking mage for the first time? Of all situations, Vicada frowned.
“It’s already done and dusted. Instead of leaving alone, why not leave with us and head to the next city—”
“That person will be watching! You saw it too, right? That creepy…”
“Shh, shh!”
The Hydra Corporation’s power is strong. It wouldn’t be impossible to think that there might still be surveillance due to being seen with Geryon. It would be bad news if any foolish words sent explosions their way.
“I’m leaving here. I’m really leaving.”
With a firm resolve, Vicada couldn’t produce any more excuses to persuade her. He bid farewell to Niobe, regretting the money he could have made by selling her.
Of course, Niobe wasn’t trying to leave due to fearing Orthes.
Niobe didn’t wander away from Etna City, but rather sought the Hydra Corporation’s building.
She was there to meet Blasphemia’s senior agent, Orthes.
*
“This is really happening.”
That was my reaction upon seeing a young kid wandering around the company lobby on CCTV. It seemed like a child waiting for their dad at the office, curiously looking around, appearing quite innocent.
The Blasphemia mages, who I’d often clashed with, were never that defenseless.
“Hmm. Quite young. Is this a disguise?”
“No. They seem genuinely to be around that age. Looks like a rookie who was newly conscripted after our conflict.”
“Then please ensure they’re well treated. No, you’re the one going to be treated, right?”
I nodded. Since I was following that kid to the Blasphemia branch, technically, I was the guest.
“Make sure the business expenses are adequately covered.”
Carisia chuckled lightly and waved her hand.
“If something goes wrong, feel free to turn everything upside down. Just don’t get hurt on your way back.”
*
“Director Arabella, are you ready?”
“Oh, come on….”
Arabella held back a curse that was about to spill out. She was already being asked to modify a small drone to be more covert.
So it wouldn’t be detected even when infiltrating a secret organization.
Preferably done overnight.
‘What kind of unreasonable demand is this…’
Sighing, Arabella handed over a small box.
“This is the smallest one I’ve got. The moment you open the box, it will activate on its own, and from then I will directly control it, so please release it near the database.”
*
As Niobe wandered around the Hydra Corporation lobby, clear thuds reached her ears. Tap, tap.
The sound of well-organized footsteps and steady breaths. It was characteristic of those who had undergone professional training.
“Have you been waiting long?”
Seeing her senior, who looked decades behind the times, Niobe nodded with a proud expression.
“Not at all. Let’s hurry up and file our return report!”
Having heard several times that most of Blasphemia’s top members had disappeared, leading to a break in the organization’s tacit knowledge, she felt fortunate that her remaining senior was still involved.
Embodying the old Blasphemia expertise, returning this senior to the organization would surely earn her a substantial reward. Filled with hope, Niobe hurried her steps.
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