Epilogue
At the Gelmed Empire’s invasion headquarters, Doriadanph sat with his head against the floor, clad in a casual outfit.
“I’m truly... truly sorry.”
Cold sweat dripped down to the floor. Projected onto the space before him was the image of a wrinkled, old man’s face... the emperor. He spoke with a voice so hoarse that just the sound of it gave one the impression his lifespan was trickling away.
“Doriadanph... Bring me the Girl of the Vessel... At all costs...!”
“At all costs, Your Grace!”
“She will be... the receptacle... for my soul...!”
“Yes! We will complete the ritual of reincarnation!”
“Hurry... You must!”
Speaking with a voice that sounded as if he was coughing up the words along with his life force, the emperor gave his decree. The image then disappeared, leaving only darkness in its wake. The only thing Doriadanph could hear was his own labored breathing.
It was said that the races’ bodies could only serve as the vessel of their own soul, but the Girl of the Vessel was different, she was special. Her body could serve as the vessel of not just her own soul, but also another, a greater soul.
The emperor plotted to discard his aged, decrepit body and transfer his soul into her body. He didn’t intend to simply place it there, but to have it reformed, reborn as a new life — to become an infant, with his current memories intact.
Still dressed in his everyday clothes, Doriadanph licked his lips wantingly.
As if I’d let you have her.
The emperor didn’t have to be the one to use the Girl of the Vessel: Doriadanph had completed the ritual of reincarnation in secret. He may not have been as aged as the emperor, but his own body was beginning to show signs of old age and corpulence.
With the image of that black-haired Pantherian girl firmly in his mind, his eyes grew bloodshot.
I shall make good use of her.
He too wished to place his soul within her womb and be reborn as a new life.
“You won’t escape, Girl of the Vessel!”
†
Concluding his conversation with the emperor through some magimatic means, Doriadanph returned to their wartime headquarters. He entered through his hidden doorway and took a seat upon his chair. Before long, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in.”
One magimatic engineer entered the room at this approval. He was clad in a robe and wore a mask, so it was hard to see his facial expressions, but Doriadanph could tell he was somewhat excited.
“Magimatic Mage, sir, something incredible has happened!”
With such an introduction, Doriadanph was beginning to consider how to punish him if it were to turn out it was something insignificant.
“Speak,” he prompted him to continue.
“We were holding compatibility tests on the new prisoners!”
He did order them to do that, Doriadanph recalled. Anyone with potential would be thrown into a Magimatic Sol. In nine cases out of ten, however — truthfully, the odds were even bleaker than that — they would end up being prey for the Magimatic Sols.
But in very amazing cases, there was a match. Someone who could manipulate the monsters inside those things and wield the Magimatic Sol’s power.
“Was there a match?”
“Yes.”
“Which Magimatic Sol was it? The teal one? Or the blue one?”
The magimatic engineer swallowed nervously.
“Goldinus of the Gold!”
Doriadanph kicked away his chair and drew on the engineer.
“Then say that sooner, you idiot!”
“C-C-Congratulations, sir!”
“If this turns out to be wrong, I’ll be throwing you into Goldinus!”
“Please, do come and confirm it for yourself!”
They hurried to the workshop, making their way to the furthest maintenance hangar. No one usually approached it, but right now it was surrounded by a great number of magimatic engineers. Noticing Doriadanph’s approach, they opened the way for him.
“Oooh...”
The unit’s hatch hung open. A woman was submerged into Goldinus, still bound in chains. She wasn’t consumed... She was a compatible match. The engineers were all fiddling with the woman, taking samples for checks. They drew blood, tore off hair, and collected skin tissue.
“...What about the enslavement magic?”
“Yes, we’ve already applied it. A Human match is incredibly rare...”
“Hmph... Her race hardly matters. People of an enemy country are disposable pawns.”
As a result of the match, the woman’s hair became the same color as Goldinus’ armor — perfect gold, like threads of golden silk.
Doriadanph peered into the stack of documents an engineer handed him. The woman’s name was...
Alicia Cristela
The girl sitting inside Goldinus opened her eyes. The engineers flew into a panic. “She’s awake already?! It’s too soon!” She looked around the room, her eyes burning with red.
“...So ugly.”
Those were the first words Goldinus of the Gold uttered.
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