INTERMISSION
And the World Goes On—Two Days After
It had been thirty-six hours since the night of the witch hunt that haunted the Nebulis Sovereignty. Under the command of the Saint Disciples, the elite units of the Imperial military stopped at a neutral city: Shralba.
The main street was as crowded as it was on any other afternoon, except the armed military police were also there, communicating over their devices.
“Hmm? Did the town drunk pick a fight with somebody? Hey, Risya? Doesn’t it feel a little tense for a neutral city?”
“As if you don’t know. We caused this.”
“Because of that attack? But the neutral city never has anything to do with the war between the Empire and the Sovereignty.”
“Shh, Mei. People might overhear you.”
Two women strolled down the main road.
One was tan and short. Her hair was a wreck, and her canines peeked from her mouth, which gave her a feline look. Next to her was a tall woman with black hair and black-rimmed glasses.
“Why did we even bother changing in the airlift if you’re just going to spill our secrets? We’re supposed to be your average citizens. No connection to the Empire or the Sovereignty.”
“Sure, sure, I’ll go along with your little game.”
Mei wore a thin tank top and short-shorts—giving her the appearance of a student on vacation. No one would guess she was a Saint Disciple of the third seat, part of the highest military rank within the Imperial forces.
“So, Risya, what do you think of my outfit?”
“It suits you. But I would have loved to see you in a skirt or dress while we’re in disguise.”
“No way. Skirts always flip up.”
“Hmm? Are you implying you would be embarrassed if a breeze revealed your underwear?”
“No. They just get caught in tree branches and make it hard to swim.”
“…I don’t get you sometimes. I don’t think normal girls climb trees or swim in skirts.”
“Seriously?” Mei asked in shock, staring at her colleague. “By the way, that suit looks slick on you.”
“I usually wear suits around the Lord.”
The Saint Disciple of the fifth seat—Risya—looked like a typical businesswoman.
“Hmm? Did you style your hair differently, too?”
“Did you just notice? …It’s been like this since we boarded the plane.” Risya’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Her long, black hair was pinned up at the back of her head. She looked like a smart secretary with her suit and sharp eyes. “I always style it this way when I’m by the Lord’s side or conducting official business. I only let my hair down when I’m in battle or relaxing at home. Wait, Mei, don’t tell me you never noticed!”
“Ha-ha-ha. I’m bad with details.”
“…Well, it’s fine. I knew that, anyway.” Risya sighed before touching her fingertips to her cheek. “I can play dress-up, but it won’t disguise this wound across my face. I know.”
Her fingers caressed the bandage on her cheek. Her reinforced plastic lenses were also cracked—what was left after a death match.
These two Saint Disciples had attacked the palace and fought against descendants of the Founder. Traces of blood peeked out from Mei’s tank top.
“I’m jealous that you heal so quickly, Mei. I want to go back to Imperial territory as soon as I can. I need to repair my glasses.”
“I think I remember you saying the purebred punched through them.”
“These lenses should be able to repel bullets. I guess it’s a small price to pay, seeing that I was up against a beast.”
As they continued speaking in hushed voices, Risya and Mei walked down the main drag of the neutral city. They stopped by stalls to buy food on Mei’s whim.
“Risya, this roast beef sandwich is to die for.”
“Didn’t you just eat in the transport?”
“Maybe. But this is different.” Mei nibbled on the bread. “The guys are waiting for us on the plane; you know, if they came with us, they could have enjoyed this sandwich—and not deal with disgusting military rations.”
“Nameless is still getting his arm treated. Joheim is keeping guard over the captured purebreds. And we need to finish our job. We didn’t stop for a bite to eat. Oh, you over there. One for me, please.” Risya tossed a coin at the shop assistant. In exchange, she took one of the many newspapers he had been handing out. “Oh, there’s one over there, too. Mei, could you dash over there and buy the newspaper on that side of the street?”
“Mmm…hmm? Sure! Uh, did you say you wanted a cup of juice?”
“Not in the slightest. Look, we need to collect reports for the Lord or we’ll be in for a scolding. We might be done fighting, but the Lord does care about what the people are saying.”
They were collecting as many newspapers and magazines as they could. That was the reason why they had landed the transport and stopped at the neutral city.
A war between the Empire and the Sovereignty. The entire world feared the two superpowers were heading in this direction. A full-blown war risked collapse on both sides, and its destruction could push into the neutral cities.
“The nations that are uneasy might use this opportunity to ally with the Sovereignty. To prevent that, we need to keep an eye on public opinion.”
“So? What’s actually written on the papers?”
“Are We on the Brink of World War? it says. We predicted the neutral cities are shocked by the news of us launching an attack against the palace.”
The Imperial forces had successfully captured the Founder’s descendants.
That was a first in their century-long history. It was no exaggeration to say it had turned the war in favor of the Imperial forces.
“Some strategists are predicting the Sovereignty will retaliate. At least, based on this article.”
The century-long period of waiting was over. From now on, it was war. The Imperial forces would send state-of-the-art weapons of destruction to the front lines, and the Sovereignty would mobilize descendants of the Founder, who had yet to be seen before.
“…All right.” Risya bundled the newspapers together and looked up. “From here on out, we’ll be following the plan that the Eight Great Apostles set forward. Your Excellency, I’m afraid you’ll need to act soon—or you won’t be able to stop them.”
The Empire. The mechanical utopia.
The Nebulis Sovereignty. The Paradise of Witches.
The war between them was about to reach scales as of yet unseen and suck the rest of the world into its vortex of destruction in the process.
“Or so the world believes.”
“That won’t happen. If the descendants of the Founder have any ounce of wisdom, they will know now is not the time to bare their fangs at us.”
The Imperial Senate. This organization held supreme authority within the Empire. In the chambers echoed the voices of eight men and women—those who united the assembly, the principle members that made up the Eight Great Apostles, the highest positions of power. They did not show their true forms, only hazy outlines of their faces on monitors set up along the walls.
“The Nebulis Sovereignty should be aware that we have captured purebreds.”
“And it’s a big deal that their government has shut down due to the queen’s injury.”
“The absence of their leader and the kidnapping of purebreds must have the people in shambles.”
That meant no all-out war. The Sovereignty was too busy alleviating the fears of their own citizens.
“The Sovereignty won’t retaliate for a while.”
“In that time, we can use our purebred samples to continue our research on astral power.”
Growley. The head of the Zoa.
The Imperial forces had gotten their hands on the best research subject they could hope for. They had guessed that his Vice was a second-generation astral power—potent and rare.
“Remember: When we got our hands on Subject E, we faced great disappointment. The astral power was useless. We could hardly call it one of the Founder’s descendants.”
“But…”
“That was a great failure.”
Silence filled the chambers, an unusual scene.
It was as unusual as the irritation vocalized by the Eight Great Apostles.
“Let us hurry with our research.”
“Subject E’s—Elletear’s—compatibility ratio with the star was too high. It’s difficult to predict how she’ll change from here on. It would be ideal if she were to stabilize in the same way as Vichyssoise.”
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