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Having departed Kyokutou, Philly teleported to the neighboring nation across the sea—the Ludain Federation.
A strange, inexplicable wrongness permeated every inch of her being, pulsing in time with her racing heart. It took every ounce of her concentration to restrain the torrent of power threatening to tear her body apart from the inside.
"Ha... ha... gh..."
Breathing in ragged gasps, she struggled through the corridors of the Government Central Office Building. She reached the top floor with staggering steps and paused for a moment before the final set of doors.
She pushed them open slowly, practically collapsing into the room.
"...A rare guest has arrived."
A man's voice rang out.
Standing before the office desk was an elderly man with snow-white hair and a matching beard. Despite his age, his back was ramrod straight beneath his military uniform.
His name was Gunnar Schulten. He was the most powerful man in the Ludain Federation, holding the title of Federal Chairman. However, behind that public persona lay another face entirely.
He was the Thunder Emperor—the Second Seat of the Cyclamen Cult.
Another man stood opposite him.
It was Solda, the new Grandmaster of the Explorer Guild. He had a face that could be found anywhere, an average build that left no impression. He possessed a presence so thin and ethereal that, should one look away, their mind might instinctively discard the memory of him entirely. That anonymity was his very reason for being.
Philly closed the door and slid down against it until she hit the floor. Heaving for air, she managed to squeeze out a few words.
"...Sorry... for interrupting your talk..."
Wisps of inky miasma seeped from her skin.
"Philly."
Gunnar narrowed his eyes. "Why have you taken Oberon's mana into yourself? There should have been a vessel for that."
"...That vessel proved useless," Philly answered listlessly, her voice tight with pain. "That is why... I had no choice... but to do it myself..."
"You are reckless."
Gunnar let out a sigh. "Even with the Perception Alteration granted to you by Oberon, such a strain will lead to your ruin."
There was a trace of concern in his voice, however slight. Philly’s expression, however, remained cold and jagged.
"...I have no need for your superficial worry," she spat. "I will be unable to move for a while, but I will fulfill my role. You can rest assured of that."
"I see. Very well."
Gunnar nodded as if convinced and immediately turned to the other man. "Solda."
"...Yes."
"Drain Oberon's mana from Philly."
"Understood."
Following Gunnar's command, Solda approached Philly. He knelt before her and slowly extended his hand. His fingertips came to rest quietly on Philly’s left shoulder.
In that instant, a cloud of inky mist wafted up from her body. The surging mana eroding Philly’s frame surged into Solda’s arm. Like a concentrated toxin, the black power snaked up his shoulder, across his chest, and down into his abdomen.
Solda’s complexion turned deathly pale in the blink of an eye. His lips began to tremble. Fine cracks spiderwebbed out from his fingertips, and the sound of creaking joints filled the room.
Suddenly, Solda’s body began to crumble without a sound. Like a sandcastle collapsing in a gale, he dissolved into the air. Within seconds, he had vanished completely, leaving not a single grain behind.
"......"
Philly watched the space where he had been with emotionless eyes.
"...I feel a little better now," she said, exhaling slowly. "My apologies, Gunnar."
"Do not trouble yourself over it. He was merely a puppet soldier created through clone technology. I have an endless supply of replacements."
Gunnar replied indifferently, returning his gaze to the documents on his desk. "I shall arrange for the next Solda immediately. I will also periodically send one to your side. For the time being, concentrate on letting Oberon's mana settle into your body."
"...I know."
Philly stood up slowly. Though her gait was still unsteady, she corrected her posture and reached for the door handle. Before leaving, she dropped one last piece of information over her shoulder.
"Oh, right. Orun is in Kyokutou right now."
"...Oh?"
"In all likelihood, he’s begun an investigation into the principles of magic."
Gunnar narrowed his eyes slightly, a cynical smile touching his lips. "I appreciate the information."
Once Philly had left, he muttered in a voice meant for no one to hear.
"I see. So the boy is in Kyokutou. It is a pity I cannot utilize Philly for information warfare at the moment, but his presence there provides more than enough of a pretext. To sway public opinion, this will be sufficient..."
Gunnar dropped his gaze to the map spread across his desk. His eyes settled on the island nation in the Far East.
There, quietly but surely, a black shadow was creeping closer.
Who would be the next to shed blood?
As of yet, no one knew.