With time Salom grew used to the various social gatherings in the capital. At first he was a bit stiff and quiet, but as years went by he learned to be sociable and charming enough. His parents were so pleased they even let him indulge in his efforts to study the art of channeling at the Royal University.

At one such party he stood with one of his professors—also a minor noble just like him—and they were both drinking wine while discussing their work.

“I must say, my dear Salom,” said the professor, an elderly, stout man, “I have the feeling that you will one day revolutionize channeling. Oh, I really mean that.”

“Nonsense, professor.” Salom smiled amiably. He was eighteen years old at the time, young and handsome. Many a young woman had been charmed by this very smile, but Salom himself was in no pursuit of romance. “Channeling cannot be truly revolutionized. Not anymore, at least—the icons are too well rooted, at this point.”

“Ah, but you speak of icons; I refer to your other areas of research. Besides, there are many ways to use even those seemingly-stagnant icons in new ways…”

“I have heard that you patented some of the more obscure icon combinations used by the military,” Salom said, widening his smile. “Perhaps you could teach me some? Classes seem so slow as of late.”

Salom was excited; now he finally got him where he wanted to. He was still a bit too young to take the advanced courses, but perhaps he could get private lessons, or simply a recommendation from—

“Are you talking about channeling? My, how interesting,” interrupted a nearby voice. Both men turned in shock to see its owner—Princess Levia, who was standing right beside them.

“Y-Your Highness!” sputtered the professor, instantly dropping to his knees. Salom followed suit, but only bowed.

The Princess was as dazzling as always, wearing a bright cream-colored dress that matched her hair and a gem necklace. Two years Salom’s junior, Levia was still in the boundary between being a child and an adult, yet her gracious smile was not inferior to any of his, he felt. Both of them were fake, anyhow.

“This is a party. No need to be too formal,” she said, smirking. The two men straightened up. “You are… Professor Belington, if I am not mistaken?” the man bowed yet again and mumbled something, yet she ignored him to turn to the younger man, “and you are…?”

“Salom Saburn, Your Highness,” he replied, wearing the most charming smile he could muster.

“Ah, right. Lord Saburn’s son… so, do you go to the Royal University, then?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“You were just discussing icons, I believe?” she asked. “For channeling use?”

“Are you perhaps interested, Your Highness?” the professor asked back, seemingly excited. Salom was sure that the man would give anything for the privilege of teaching her.

Levia widened her smile. “Why, yes. You see, I have a bit of a channeling talent, myself. Father even brought me a private tutor.”

This shocked the both of them. Especially with the nonchalant way she spoke of it. Truth be told, channeling was somewhat of a double-edged sword, since most of the populace viewed it badly. Yes, it helped them in many areas of life, including war, but they were still somewhat suspicious toward it in Rumdon, even in the mighty capital with its Royal University that had actual classes for it.

What would they think if they knew that even the royal heir possessed this ability?

“How… how splendid to hear, Your Highness! I myself would also be honored to…”

Levia practically ignored the professor. “I’m rather good with the sound channel, you know. That is my specialty, apparently.”

“It’s the communication channel,” Salom said. A moment later he hurriedly added, “…Your Highness.”

The professor stared at him, wide-eyed. Salom himself also realized his blunder—even if the Princess was talking to them and they were responding to her, actually correcting her was a grave sin. People of a superior rank were always right; that was one of the first lessons instilled into Salom when he’d first set foot in Copius.

“Oh? What do you mean by that?” she asked him, seemingly unbothered. Or at the very least, she still wore her fake smile just like before.

“It’s, well…” he hesitated for a moment, “sound is just the simplest medium of this channel. But strictly speaking it can manifest in many, other ways. There were some who could even form letters, or just broadcast their very thoughts and ideas—so that is why we call it the communication channel rather than its more common name. Your Highness.”

Salom slightly flushed. He loved explaining these sorts of things so he once again forgot that he was speaking to royalty. The professor still seemed shocked and Levia still seemed fine, but it was hard to judge if he’d truly made a great breach of etiquette and whether or not he would end up paying for it later.

“I see,” Levia said, nodding. “Tell me more about that. It sounds positively fascinating.”

That was only the beginning of one of Salom’s most stressful evenings.

“Remember our first conversation?” asked Levia, a mischievous smile plastered on her lips along with her usual lipstick. “It was a couple of years before my marriage, if I recall correctly? My, my, what a delightful brat you were.”

Salom slightly scowled. “That description suited you, Your Majesty. I thought I’d be hanged the day tomorrow.”

This time—the next morning after Salom’s arrival back in the capital—they met not in the throne room, but inside a spacious meeting room located in the northern wing of the palace. They were also not alone, though the vast majority of the ten-odd chairs still stayed unoccupied. Salom was in his wheelchair, obviously.

“Haha. Father was furious at the time, true. But mostly regarding me,” said Levia.

“Still, you enjoyed watching me squirm, didn’t you?”

“My, whatever gave you that impression? You know I can’t enjoy anything at all.”

Even if he knew that, there were times he wasn’t so sure; she seemed to prod his feelings in order to read them way too often.

There was a small cough. “I believe this is not the right time to reminiscence, Your Majesty,” said Stard, crossing his arms and looking as austere as always. He sat somewhere between the two.

“Yes, yes, you are right,” Levia admitted. “Fine, I was just trying to get you in the right mood.”

“Just hearing your lies takes me out of the mood.”

This time Levia simply ignored him. “I wanted to ask for your cooperation, Salom. Now that the attack has begun, although ahead of schedule, we have a need of your services.”

“I figured something of the sort,” said Salom. “I just hope you don’t try to enlist me as some sort of strategist.”

“Of course not. I was trying to get you into the mood, I said… so this is related to research.”

“Research, you say?" He was so annoyed at the memories she brought back that he hadn’t considered her actual reason for bringing that up.

“Yes. I want to you to dissect one of the monsters,” said Levia plainly.

“I… what?” Salom couldn’t hide his befuddlement.

“Her Majesty wishes to capture one of our enemies,” explained Stard, “in order to better understand their workings. Think of it like taking a hostage and torturing them.”

“Not really something I’d like to imagine,” said Salom, sighing. “But anyway, I don’t see how I’m related to this. I’m no zoologist.”

“It is not like these are actual animals. You saw them yourself, right? Stard, at least, described them as somewhat… unreal. Blurry. As if coming straight from a dream—or more precisely, a nightmare. Not to mention,” she added, “we think they are somehow related to channeling.”

Related to channeling? Salom raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t seen them channel anything; no animal ever exhibited the ability to do so, but were these any different? Salom mostly watched soldiers fighting against it, as well as Stard zooming around the sky to get both the monsters and the strange tentacles that seemed to transport them. But wait, perhaps what she meant was actually—

“Are you suggesting that these might be channeled beings?”

That would be unprecedented. One could channel various sorts of energy, compounds and some harder-to-understand phenomena, but life? It was thought to be impossible. Oh, there were countless attempts, of course, but these never led to anything. Even legends barely spoke of such things.

“Well…” Levia put a hand to her cheek. “That is also possible, but I was referring to something else entirely. Stard, do explain your findings.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he said, lightly bowing while still seated. “Salom, while the monsters are moderately resistant to any physical attacks—and their bodies seem to regenerate quickly, as well—they are apparently weak against channeling. I experienced this myself, and gathered some few other testimonies of the sort. For example, using the heat channel will burn them much easier and faster than anticipated judging from their size and apparent grit.”

“I assume they’re not simply weak against fire, right?” said Salom, more wondering aloud than asking.

“This was merely the most visible phenomenon, but I myself have tried some few other methods and achieved great success. For example, the channel of weight made them much heavier, and the channel of movement dislocated them much more efficiently than under normal conditions.”

Salom stroked his chin. That was an interesting feature, to be sure. Based on their characteristics, the monsters seemed not quite… real, for lack of a better word. Whether they were actually channeled beings or otherwise, their makeup apparently interacted poorly—or greatly, depending on one’s point of view—with channeling.

“Now I see why you want me to look into this. It does sound fascinating. However, that is not still a conclusive fact, correct? Returning to my previous question, I assume you have seen no monster struck by actual fire?”

Stard shook his head. “Like you said, this is only based on very scarce observations. That is one of the reasons we wish to acquire one of the creatures and study them, so we can ascertain such things, and hopefully find out how they work, their weaknesses and the like.”

“Don’t forget about those tentacles,” said Salom. “If anything, I’m interested in those much more than the monsters—well, they might be the same. In any case, they are probably what carried those monsters all the way here… and that might also prove to be valuable information.”

“Wonderful.” For some reason Levia started clapping her hands. “I am so glad to see you getting excited like that, after everything you have been through. Oh, stop sulking,” she added, despite him not even changing his facial expression, “I honestly and truly mean this from the bottom of my heart.”

Yeah, right. Still, he was happy that there’d at least be something to take his mind off of his troubles while simultaneously helping against this crisis.

“I would have believed you if you had a heart in the first place,” he answered simply. “Regardless, I accept the job. Get me as many specimens as you can.”

Levia’s smiled widened ever so slightly. “I knew I could count on you. Of course, there are many other jobs for you; we have been developing many new ideas with our army, after all. We can even revive some old projects—the lass will be thrilled, will she not?” The last sentence she directed at Stard, who then sighed.

“…Hah. I suppose so, Your Majesty.”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Salom, raising a brow.

“You will find out soon, I believe,” was all that Stard said at the time.

Salom found the answer to that question much sooner than anticipated.

“General! They said you were at the palace so I’ve been waiting here for about two hours—no, no, it was more like one hour, don’t worry—I’ve been thinking of some various things to—wait a moment, is that Professor Saburn?!”

The moment the pair exited the castle, there were immediately assaulted by a flurry of words, first directed at Stard and finally at the very confused Salom. The speaker was a young woman with short-cropped dark hair and eyes that were just as dark, clad in the standard army uniform. Meaning she was a soldier? There weren’t many women in the army, so it was a surprise to see her.

“…I, uh, yes,” Salom finally responded, his eyebrows still pressed together.

“Wow! I’ve heard so much about you!” the woman grabbed his hand and started shaking it vigorously. “Well, more like I read everything you wrote! Your paper about icon configuration was really—”

“Mallew.” Stard’s voice was sharp and curt. “Slow down.”

“Yes sir!” she instantly straightened up and saluted. “I was rude, and I apologize! My name is Mallew Mordack, engineer of the—”

“Mallew,” Stard said again. “I have not finished talking.”

“Yes sir!” she saluted yet again. Salom was still rather stunned by this whole affair.

“To cut a long story short, she is a new recruit of ours—new in this case being more than a year ago, but still,” Stard explained. “She has certain… talents. She even went to the Royal University, but I scouted her to join our little engineering unit.”

A woman in the Royal University was yet another rarity. Leaving her quirks and young age aside, the very fact she had been scouted and praised by Stard (in his own way) meant she was worthy of attention.

“Mordack, was it? Like the architect?” Salom suddenly recalled.

“Yes sir! I hail from the great family that planned most of the capital, the castle and—” she stopped just as Stard was about to open his mouth—”and I wasn't allowed to speak, I am sorry!” She saluted again for no reason.

“For example, our new communication tool is part of her efforts,” Stard said, glancing at the woman as if daring her to speak out of turn again. Yet she smiled and persevered.

“Right… I completely forgot about that,” Salom said. “I’d love to hear exactly how it works if the opportunity arises.”

“Ah, you’ve just made a huge mistake. You’ll be hearing every last detail for hours and hours, since you asked that.”

“I-I won’t really…” Mallew mumbled embarrassedly.

“Well then… Miss Mordack,” Salom said, smiling amicably. “I assume we’ll be working together in the days to come. So it is a pleasure meeting you.” He held out his hand and made another, more relaxed handshake.

Mallew’s innocent-looking eyes almost seemed to sparkle; she acted much like as if the Queen herself pronounced her the ruler of the kingdom. She must have truly idolized him to that extent.

“She must be quite a handful,” mumbled Salom wryly a while later.

“…Well, she makes up for it with her work.”

Just like the other day, Stard accompanied him back to his house. Mallew had apparently come to discuss her multitudes of new ideas, but the man was already used to deflecting her. It wasn’t his job anyway, Stard had added; yet the actual person in charge of the engineering unit was also weary of the woman, so she went to Stard often.

“Seems like I’ve been missing a lot here, these couple of years,” Salom said.

“Do you regret it?” Stard asked.

That question gave Salom pause. His project was finished. Strictly speaking, he hadn’t even spoken with the school about it, but it was clear as day. At any rate, Levia would definitely stop funding it. Well, right now the town needed to recover, anyway.

This all meant that in a sense Salom wasted two years on nothing. Especially given that all of his special students were dead. He tried not to think of them too much, but it was hard… it would probably become easier once he sank himself into his new work. Perhaps someone as bubbly as Mallew wouldn’t be a bad thing for him, all things considered.

But that did nothing to answer Stard’s question—so did he regret it?

“…No,” he finally replied. “I feel pain, but not regret. I tried to do the right thing. I don’t believe I made any mistake; it was just that the circumstances were unfortunate.”

“Hmm. Yes, that is the proper way for you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You never get stuck in the past. You always move forward… that’s a good thing,” Stard explained.

“Even if it makes me heartless?” he asked weakly, more to himself than to Stard.

“You wouldn’t feel so conflicted, if that was the case,” Stard said, and left it at that. Salom felt he was still wrong, but said nothing more.

Embarrassment, tension, loyalty.

“I… came to get you, Your Majesty.” Swen entered the bedroom almost sheepishly. He was averting his eyes as if Levia was indecent. She was merely sitting on the bed and biting into a grape she took from a bowl.

“Ah, have they gathered already? I thought I had a bit more time,” she said.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

A pity. She felt a bit light-headed, so she wanted to have something sweet. She wasn’t allowed to have any actual condiments, so the best she could do was eat some delicious fruits. However, barely a moment after she sat down in relief, dear old Swen appeared.

“Is it not possible for me to give up on this meeting?” she asked with a smile.

Confusion, anger, anxiety.

“I am kidding, of course.” Levia rose up from the bed. She checked her dress and her hair; she should still be presentable enough. Taking her time for another stop with her personal maids would surely annoy the gentlemen waiting for her so eagerly. Like a flock of vultures circling a not-quite-dead person from above.

Relief, acceptance, satisfaction.

“Let us go, then.” She went with Swen, with the guards waiting just outside the chambers joining them from both sides.

In truth, Levia hated these sorts of social gatherings—no, hate was too strong of a word. Not even dislike. If anything, she found them dull. She fully understood their importance, and knew how to utilize it, yet she always found them extremely tedious and boring. At least she could feign interest.

Soon the small group reached the door of the palace’s meeting room. It was the very same room she had sat in along with Stard and Salom the other day, yet she knew it was now filled with mostly old men and women. Again, it wasn’t that she found this exactly unpleasant; merely dull.

Bowing, her Lord Chamberlain and her guards left her behind. This wasn’t their domain, after all (other than the few guards inside). Levia stepped into the room alone.

Anger joy confidence discontent hope frustration lust sadness doubt impatience wonder—

The deluge of emotions permeating Levia’s mind like a splitting headache almost caused her to grit her teeth, yet she endured it. Perhaps such meetings were not just wearisome, but at times uncomfortable as well. She still wore her most experienced, dazzling smile and welcomed the audience.

“Dear friends and family, I do welcome you.” She turned her head around and quickly counted—fifteen people in all. “Some of you I have not seen in quite a while… especially you, Lord Qumisson. How have you arrived so quickly, anyway?” she inquired conversationally.

Hatred, fear, disgust.

The man radiating these very strong feelings—despite appearing perfectly composed and cool on the surface—was an old, dignified man.

Although he had supposedly travelled from afar, his suit, already on par with the royal closet, was spotless as though new, and fit his skinny frame perfectly. He was perfectly shaven and his grey, fine hair covered every contour of his head, not allowing even a hint of balding despite his age. He was the very image of royalty—just as he wished to be.

“I had to come over as soon as I could after the attack, Your Majesty,” said Qumisson, with even such a simple answer sounding as if he had weighed each and every word inside his head for hours.

To check if I’m still alive, thought Levia to herself.

“It was inevitable for something like this to happen,” he added.

Levia was not shaken at all. He shouldn’t know the truth, as far as she knew. She had the feeling he was testing her regardless. But it was a long time since such tricks worked on her.

“An inevitable sudden war, you mean?” she asked. “The Northern Frontier did seem too quiet as of the last few years.”

Amusement, gloating, annoyance.

“No, that was not what I meant. I was referring to the arrival of such a precious chance to depose you, Your Majesty.”

Levia was surprised, but she still wasn’t shaken. Her smile didn’t even quiver. Depose her? Lord Qumisson had some guts, openly stating it like that. It was both like and unlike him. It felt too direct of an approach, but it must hold some meaning, then.

“Lord Qumisson!” a pudgy man sitting in the table sounded devastated. “What is the meaning of this?”

Several faces around the table seemed equally shocked—some feigned, some for real—but others looked agreeing, even slightly nodded. Of course, almost everyone here was united against Levia. She’d already known that.

“That is quite alright, Lord Shammings,” Levia pacified the man that honestly came to her defense. At least she could always trust that old family friend to have her back. She turned back to her current opponent. “Depose me, you say? For what cause?”

Resolve, anger, hesitation.

“For putting our country—and perhaps the entirety of Plainland—at risk, Your Majesty,” he calmly answered. “For invoking the wrath of the Gods upon us.”

This time Levia couldn’t help but let her mouth hang open. She noted his hesitation the moment before he said it, but then he actually went and did it. He was trying to pin that on her that? Really? This was once again an atypical move.

“Come now, Lord Qumisson. Do not be ridiculous. Have you joined Sacrona’s Church of the Saints since the last time we’ve met?”

A person in the crowd snickered. Qumisson even looked somewhat insulted by her invoking the name of their enemy country. It was true that in Rumdon the Gods were not often mentioned so solemnly, though. Levia continued speaking.

“Even if we presume me to be such a horrible Queen—” she widened her smile, “—surely it would not require involvement all the way from Blissland.” This caused a few murmurs around the table.

“So you admit to it being the source for these attacks,” Qumisson said plainly.

“Of course.” If he thought he’d caught her with a slip of the tongue, he was wrong. “But you do not really believe what you said, right?” Yes, she could feel that he really did not.

Qumisson dodged the question entirely. “Of course, deposing you is only a final measure,” he admitted. “It would be far more prudent for you to finally remarry and have children—a King and future Kings to lead us in these troubled times.”

Suspicion, doubt, bitterness. “It has been more than a decade since your husband’s rather mysterious death,” noted a wrinkled woman in the crowd, Lady Sacrum. Her weak-looking husband sitting near her also nodded meekly.

“Indeed so.” Qumisson nodded solemnly as well. “You cannot dodge this issue forever, Levia-O. We cannot leave this nation in the hands of a woman in such a state. You really must find a husband.”

The most annoying thing was that he wasn’t saying that in an attempt to anger her—he knew that wouldn’t work—but because he actually believed it. Levia was rather tired of these games with him.

“And I suppose you will offer yourself, Lord Qumisson?” she asked brazenly.

Trepidation, ambition, ferocity. Yes, he would absolutely loathe the act of marrying someone like her, but he would also do it anyway—and then probably have her perish just as mysteriously as her father or her husband. It was almost enough to make even her disgusted.

“It is an option. Though, I am rather old, so I would rather think of the next generation. One of my sons would fit better for the role. Callun, perhaps.” His emotions, however, practically shouted his desire to be king, and his sons were all pampered idiots at best.

“Well, regardless of all of this,” said Levia, waving her hand, “your worries are unneeded. In case you have forgotten, it was chiefly I—and not my husband—who assembled an army that is probably the strongest of the last century.” She wore a victorious smile.

“An army full of defects,” someone mumbled.

“An army which is protecting you most splendidly and will keep doing so,” Levia stressed. “Yes, we have been caught unawares—” technically the truth, “but now we are ready.”

“Ready to face the Gods?” asked Qumisson in disbelief.

“Ready to face anything. Even the Gods are not absolute, or you would simply cower in fear instead of reaching for my crown. Or do you simply wish to feel content before our apparently inevitable demise?”

Perhaps she shouldn’t have gone so far. Not a single muscle on Qumisson’s face moved, but she could feel he was simmering on the inside. However, even if she had to watch out for his machinations, she also had to assert her dominance over him. Some of the people there were on her side, after all. Or at the very least, most of them were wise enough to pretend so.

The trifling discussion continued for a while without reaching any proper conclusion.

It was already night, which meant that the Observatory officially started its work for the day. It worked fine even while the sun was channeling, but it was still best to gaze into space during night. Of course, the structure was also built on the other end of the mountain for that reason, making it a bit tricky to reach even without taking in account the facility was heavily guarded.

The Observatory was actually regarded to be a massive drain on the kingdom’s resources, another source of contention against the Queen. After all, the newly developed telescopes could merely “watch” things. There were cries to adapt them into spying machines on the other countries around, but they were best used to pierce through the vast distances of space. The problem was that seeing Blissland and Fairland accomplished nothing. The pretty, evergreen Fairland was a feast for the eyes and the chaotic Blissland was in a way a work of art, but they gained nothing from it.

Yet now the Observatory finally had an official purpose—watching the approach of the incoming monsters. Of course, it was created for that purpose in the first place, but now it could be flaunted for it publicly. Even if it would not help against the Queen’s major detractors, it should at least help morale.

And tonight, two outsiders were granted entrance into the facility.

“This is my first time here… I’m so excited!”

Since Mallew was pushing his chair he couldn’t see her expression, but Salom could imagine her usual merry smile already. She was a bit hard to contain at times, but she was a good kid after all. —No, she was a woman; despite her somewhat child demeanor, he had to remind himself of that often. He was no longer handing teenagers.

Even if she did sometimes remind him of those four.

“I’ve been here a few times, but not in recent years,” said Salom. “So I’d forgotten how tough it was getting here…” he sighed. In truth, Stard had offered to take him there personally, but Salom had declined, saying that he couldn’t take more of the man’s precious time.

After several hours of a rocky carriage ride followed by being pushed up a slope, he deeply regretted it. Perhaps he was starting to feel the extent of his age, considering it hadn’t been that bad several years ago. Or maybe he was extra tired lately, compared to back then.

At least Mallew kept her spirits high and never complained even once, so there was that.

“Wait, you helped them create the telescope?!” the woman asked excitedly. “I hadn’t heard anything about that!”

Salom chuckled and said, “Sorry to disappoint you, but no. Actually, I’m rather weak with the channel of light, so those icons aren’t my work.”

“Aww…”

“I couldn’t have done every piece of channeling-related work here, you know,” he said, smiling. “Let others have their credit as well.”

Mallew opened her mouth to reply, but another person appeared before them.

“Ah, hello there!” He was an elderly man with a bald head, a white moustache and thick glasses. He paced toward them uncertainly, as if he couldn’t quite master walking, and had a bit of a hunchback.

“Professor Rastee, it has been years,” Salom greeted him. The man was the Director of the Observatory, chosen for the job by Levia herself all those years ago, a position he was glad to serve. Salom’s feelings were a bit complex given the Observatory’s recent failure, but the man was still an old friend.

“Hello! I’m Mallew Mordack and I—”

“Haha, I have already heard about you, of course,” said the professor, smiling wide. “And yes, it truly has been a long time, master Saburn. I am glad to have you back in the capital.”

Salom smiled wryly. “Not for good reasons, unfortunately.”

“Anything can turn into a good reason, Professor Saburn!” said Mallew.

“Miss Mordack is right,” said Rastee, chuckling. “It is a rather trying time for us here, so we are glad to see old—and new—friends visit.”

“Yeah… it must’ve been a shock to have these monsters suddenly appear like that,” mumbled Mallew, slightly losing her cheer.

Rastee gave a knowing look to Salom who returned his gaze. This fact went unnoticed by Mallew. Instead Rastee simply nodded gravely.

“Well, moving to business… is there any specific purpose to your visit here today?”

“Not really. Well, I thought I’d have Mallew look over your instruments a bit… if anyone could think how to make them even better, it’s her,” said Salom.

“Not you?” asked the older man with a smile.

“It’s already too late for me—oh, not that I’m criticizing your ability, of course,” said Salom, returning the smile. Meanwhile, the trio moved into one of the Observatory’s main rooms and Mallew voiced an incomprehensible sound that probably indicated surprise, amazement, or both.

In front of them were very large pipes that extended into the ceiling and outside—or at least, that was what they looked like. Each pipe was about as thick as a person and tall as three, with specially designed platforms and chairs beneath them. There were five such instruments in all, arranged in equal distances across the chamber.

“I never thought I’d actually see them… wow.”

“Impressive, eh? I felt like you the first time, don’t worry,” said Rastee. “And I was one of the people who helped design this, haha.”

There were very few people around—but the issue was more a lack of ability rather than manpower. Most people who could channel were already part of the military, which couldn’t spare its personnel for such a “lowly” job. Instead, almost everyone who worked in the Observatory was administrative or maintenance personnel, things that didn’t require much work even during these times.

“Well then… I would like to see the monsters,” said Salom in a stern voice. He did want to check the facility, but that wasn’t his main goal coming there. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe the reports, but merely wanted to judge for himself.

“You can’t trust anything that you don’t confirm with your very own eyes, eh? A man of learning through and through,” Rastee said amiably, but wore a somewhat strained smile. Even the ever-excited Mallew was a bit somber. “Use that one.” He gestured at the northernmost tube.

Salom nodded and rolled himself toward it. There was a designated chair for the telescope users attached to the floor, so the pair helped him sit in it. He then brought his eyes to the glass at the bottom of the pipe.

The inside was completely pitch-dark, but there were a few icons etched on the surface of the glass such that they were legible from up close. Salom focused and activated them, allowing him to channel light inside the complex apparatus. There was an overlay of mirrors and even more icons etched on the inside.

The channel of light worked not only by emitting light, but also absorbing it. Actually, this was true of all channels, but harder to accomplish with some of them. What the Observatory’s telescope did was basically amplify light using mirrors and then “draw” it back along with any distant images that might be reflected on their surface. Not just anyone would be able to operate these complex icons, but Salom was prepared despite his self-proclaimed lack of affinity to the channel.

Glum, he briefly wondered if someone like Roah could use such a device even more efficiently, considering his ability. Perhaps they could have also used him to develop even better devices of the sort in the future. But that possibility had already been lost, so he focused on the task at hand.

Instantly Salom could see space—the great, unfathomable and vast unknown realm that separated the worlds.

The people on Plainland knew only of two other worlds since times immemorial, but there were always people thinking that there might be countless other worlds out there…

Salom saw something different. At first it was a bit difficult to discern, but once the image stabilized, he realized he was seeing something glowing in the surrounding blackness. It was long and dark and squirmed continuously. It also had other silhouettes clinging to it.

And there were at least hundreds of them around.

Salom nearly physically flinched at the sight despite knowing they were at an absurd distance right now. The shining tentacle carrying a new army of monsters on it was approaching Plainland, just like he’d already known. He recognized it from the last time, too.

According to the Observatory’s estimations, it would be around four to five days before the tentacles reached Plainland again. The next wave was already imminent. This time, however, they wouldn’t be caught by surprise. They were ready for the assault, and as far as they could tell, the numbers of monsters were increased, but not unbearably so. Salom trusted Stard and everyone who’d worked to support the army whether directly or indirectly, even himself. Even Levia.

He got away from the telescope, only now noticing that he’d held his breath without thinking. He sighed.

“…Well, seeing those things, even from so far away, is a bit unsettling,” he admitted with a wry smile. He then turned toward Mallew, “You want to have a look as well? Well, a bit of a strange question after just admitting it was unpleasant, but—”

“Oh no, I’d love to have a look!” she hurriedly said. “The iconwork is really impressive here. But… I can’t.” Her smiled waned.

“You can’t?” Salom asked, confused. “Oh, it is a bit hard, but I’m sure you’ll—”

“No, I mean I literally can’t. I cannot channel.”

“…What?” Salom said after a rather substantial pause.

A few days passed since he had been introduced to this woman. They conversed about many things both professionally and casually, including about channeling and icons. She had always exhibited knowledge about on par with his own.

Yet now that he thought about it, it was true that she had never indicated she possessed the ability to channel.

“I thought you… but that’s,” he mumbled. He was usually calm and collected, but having one of his unspoken assumptions overturned so suddenly was quite the sucker punch. “I see. I’m sorry to have assumed otherwise.”

“N-no… it’s not your fault,” Mallew hurriedly said, shaking her hands. “I just didn’t have, err, an opportunity to call that fact into attention.”

“Curious indeed,” noted Rastee from the side. “I have heard about you too, miss—are you not an icon specialist? And yet you cannot channel yourself? That is both peculiar and astounding.”

“…I get that a lot,” she mumbled.

“Let’s stop bothering her over this,” suggested Salom.

Mallew hurriedly shook her head. “No, that’s fine. It’s not like I… feel bad about it, or have some complex toward it. That’s just how it is.”

“Besides, it means you’re much more amazing than someone like old Salom here,” Rastee said and chuckled.

“I just obsess over patterns, that’s all.”

Could she really sum it up using mere obsession? Not to mention iconology had a lot more other than patterns. She was still extremely young, yet not only had she gone to the University, she had even been scouted by the military. And she was already working and producing new patents.

True, technically one did not need the ability to channel in order to understand and design icons, but it definitely helped. Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to even check your ideas—no, you probably wouldn’t become interested in icons in the first place.

Learning to use icons was an arduous journey. To embed the patterns into your mind so perfectly despite being unable to use them was practically unheard of.

Salom was still relatively young, but he was getting older and older. He had no idea how long this new war would go on for and what would happen to them. And so he was happy to see that there was still talent in the new generation. He was probably already past his peak, but there were others ready to take his place, and he wasn’t envious, but glad for that.

Gods know they needed every bit of help.

When does the flower bloom?

Before the dawn it signals doom