[682] Offering Flowers (2)
* * *
The interior of the living flower that sustained itself by absorbing light was compartmentalized by thick iron membranes, much like the cells of a real plant.
The substance called light ore mimicked the genetic mechanisms of living organisms, so as the organism developed its cells grew and differentiated.
And just as human cells divide over and over to form hearts, livers, nerves, and bone, the living flower produced complex, precise machinery on its own—structures that far outstripped human engineering.
So it was no surprise when the door opened by itself as Lupist reached the control room of the living flower.
Inside the forty-pyeong hexagonal chamber, countless wires, displays, and calculation units that enabled extremely precise interception were humming with activity.
Lupist ignored the ten Blackshadow guards protecting Plarino and stepped forward.
"Long time no see, Plarino."
They had faced each other years before at the negotiation table arranged through the secret channel of Tormia Castle.
"Yes, Lupist."
Plarino's expression was cold.
"The world doesn't go the way one wishes. I hoped you wouldn't become head of the Magic Association."
For Radum's Ain-kind, Lupist—one of the kingdom's foremost hardliners—rising to the center of power in the kingdom was nothing short of a disaster.
"The world, huh. That's a misleading way to put it. For someone to fail, someone else must succeed, right?"
Michea Gaold, regarded as a core leftist figure, hadn't risen to the Association presidency by accident. He had poured himself into the Heaven Project, and domestic terrorism rooted in Radum had been only incidental.
"So you really mean to uproot the flower?"
The thought of handing over the living flower she had nurtured for decades to the kingdom tightened Plarino's chest.
"No. How much do you think this is worth? I'm not just going to pluck it."
Lupist activated his Spirit Zone and summoned a mass of steel.
"I'll take it down to the roots."
"Protect the minister!"
The all-female Blackshadow unit scattered into the shadowed corners.
Their gray skin turned transparent in the dark, making them exceptional bodyguards. Their physical prowess, equal to men's in many respects, also suited them to protect the sensibilities of the nobility.
The Art of Darkness.
Shadow expanded like water and filled the room.
Light was swallowed by a force that devoured Shining magic, and in perfect darkness several Blackshadow guards closed in on Lupist.
The best protection is to remove the danger.
It was assassination in the literal sense.
Their movements, perfected to blend completely into darkness, were difficult for the Spirit Zone's synesthetic senses to pick up.
"Dead!"
Four blades flashed at Lupist.
For a moment his fingertips went numb, and his nervous system seemed to slip out of his control as if blocks were coming apart.
"Aren't you idiots?"
The dismembered bodies of the Blackshadow guards tumbled across the floor in dozens of pieces.
"What were you thinking, attacking a blade?"
Iron is something to avoid, not something to attack.
Those Blackshadow guards hidden in the shadows shed bloody tears at their comrades' deaths but did not reveal themselves.
Their technique had been technically excellent, but their patience was not superhuman.
"I'll kill you!"
Just as the remaining Blackshadow guards threw themselves forward with their lives on the line, Plarino raised her hand and shouted.
"Stop!"
"Minister! But—!"
"Lupist is not an easy opponent. Leave him to me."
She had shown resolve, but no one could be sure how long she could hold out against a cold, merciless steel mage.
"Surrender control of the living flower."
"I'll make an offer. Provide a place where Radum's Ain-kind can live. Then I will abandon interception."
"No."
Building separate facilities for the Ain-kind would be a costly burden for the Tormia Kingdom.
Jane will handle it, Lupist thought. He trusted Jane's ability.
"Is it worth spilling blood when there's a peaceful solution?"
"Peace?"
Lupist opened his palm and a metallic, blade-sharp mass spun up like a storm.
"Do you think you're human?"
He swung his arm; gray metal fanned out like mercury and aimed for Plarino's throat.
"Minister!"
A Blackshadow guard threw herself over Plarino and collapsed, and the shards that split through the air exploded outward and sank into the darkness.
Screams rang out, and then the bodies of the remaining Blackshadow guards showed themselves outside the shadows.
"What makes us different from you?!"
Pressed to the floor, Plarino cried out in a bitter voice.
"We have emotions, culture, history! We can love, rejoice, and share sorrow! Why do you always try to drive us away?"
"First, you don't pay taxes."
Lupist took another step forward.
"Second, you don't bear human children. Legally you're not entitled to national registration. Incorporating you into forced labor or brothels might have short-term effectiveness, but in the long term supporting you is a burden on the kingdom. It's on a completely different scale of waste compared to keeping a pet or raising livestock."
Plarino choked back sobs.
"Lastly, third."
Lupist looked down at her with cold eyes.
"Our proud Tormia citizens—those who pay taxes, produce children, and provide labor—they hate you. So just disappear from the world. If you're gone, humans will be more comfortable."
Plarino's shoulders trembled.
"How can you be so cruel? For such reasons… you think it's okay to kill life?"
"Such reasons?"
Lupist kicked up Plarino's chin.
"Minister!"
The only remaining Blackshadow hastily supported her.
Seeing the terror in Plarino's eyes, the guard gave up any thought of charging Lupist.
This is bad. Passive desire is manifesting, Lupist noted.
The Floral folk were strong, but aggressive dispositions were rare—like carnivorous plants, only a few had them.
Even Plarino, who had trained with bloody discipline to resist other people's desires, was nothing more than a blossom before the Authority of the Association head.
Lupist turned to the energy output device's display and pressed cancel. A window demanding a code popped up.
He licked his lips, stepped closer to Plarino, and built another storm of blades.
"I'll start by cutting off your limbs."
"You bastard!"
The last Blackshadow leapt, but the blade storm shredded his face and he collapsed to the side.
"If you want to die comfortably, hand over the code. I don't specialize in torture, but I guarantee you won't last a minute."
Reason fled; fear took over.
"You know how many of the Floral folk have been sacrificed."
The scent of flowers filled the room.
"Owned by humans, sold off when they're tired of them, used by new humans again, driven mad by stress and withered away—that's us. Humans even feel pity for a stray dog! So why don't you extend a hand of salvation to us?"
"What do I care about your circumstances?"
Plarino went silent, face wet with sorrow.
"Do you think humans don't have histories of parents forced to watch boiling water poured down their child's throat? We didn't get anything for free. People are always discontent. Equality is distant; not everyone can be happy. But even building this crude system required countless human sacrifices. It's a system made solely for human happiness. And now things that add nothing suddenly appear and demand to be included?"
Lupist's refusal to allow emotion chilled Plarino further.
"You'll regret it. You'll see what your selfishness brings."
From Plarino rose the embodiment of a flower.
When the bloodline of the Violet Tiara—the most celebrated beauty among the Floral folk—revealed itself, the room seemed to brighten.
Try to capture her alive if possible, Lupist thought. Jane would deal with her anyway, but it would be better to spare Plarino for the off chance. It would be a shame to destroy the living flower—repairing a damaged control device would cost an astronomical sum.
"Watch carefully."
Plarino's avatar disintegrated into a dust of light and flared like neurons.
"The wrath of a flower trampled by humans!"
Avatar Art — Small World Manifestation.
* * *
"Jane!"
Aria, suffering severe infection symptoms, convulsed.
Through the mental resonance that linked her to Jane, what she was experiencing was transmitted straight into Jane's head as if Jane were feeling it herself.
"What's wrong?"
"A vampire! A powerful one!"
Kuan's expression hardened.
If someone could push Jane to her limits, the only likely candidate among the Spectrum's leadership was the pureblood vampire Laika.
"Kuan, you go! Jane can't demonstrate her full power."
It was difficult to beat Laika while mentally resonating with a sick person.
"No. My duty is to protect you."
If Aria were attacked while inside the living flower, the code would be lost.
With a strike on the capital obvious, even if Jane died, Aria had to be protected.
"But! Jane—"
Kuan felt deep guilt for choosing the harder path to save Aria over the easy one.
"If Jane dies, I'll take you into the living flower then."
Kuan spat the words coldly and glared at the living flower.
Please be safe… he thought.
* * *
Black smoke streaked down the corridor and took on human form in front of Jane.
Before the shape had fully formed, Laika's palm slammed into Jane's solar plexus, and a massive shockwave ripped through her body.
"Guhk!"
Her body didn't move an inch, but it felt as if her life had been hurled into the stars.
She drove her knee down, staggered forward, then fell backward and smashed the back of her head.
"Persistently pointless."
Laika clicked his tongue as he looked down at Jane, eyes open but apparently dead.
Around him, the bodies of his vampire subordinates were unspooling into black smoke.
Not purebloods, but each possessed a potent soul.
That Jane had controlled seven such vampires through mental domination made Laika's dismissal of her skill even more irritating.
"In any case, it's over."
Laika's cloak fluttered as he turned, and his figure vanished in an instant.
— …damn!
Aria's voice seeped into the dead Jane's brain.
—Jane! Jane!
Mission.
A faint flicker of life began in Jane's dim pupils.
Her heart was not beating, but there were still about twenty seconds before full brain death.
President of the Association.
A belated life review flashed by and Jane slowly lifted her hand.
For the nation and its people…
Focusing with a dying brain was one thing; pushing into the territory most difficult for a mage—self-harm—was another.
She gathered wind magic at her fingertips, drove it into her abdomen, and seized her own heart.
I can't die yet!
By casting the mind-type spell Mental Transcendence, strength beyond her physical limits contracted her heart.
"Ugh!"
Blood began to circulate and bodily functions slowly returned, but the heart's contractile force was beyond what her fingers alone could sustain.
I have to regain control of the living flower.
Feeling as if the muscles in her wrist were tearing, Jane braced her hand against the corridor wall and forced herself onward.