May 12, 1616 Central Calendar

Issen-Maritime, a town between Otaheit and Mykal, Kingdom of Mu

A man with brows furrowing in concentration as he was deeply engrossed in his desk work barely registered a timid cough and the knocks at his office door. However, as the tapping and calling persisted, it shattered the focused silence of the room enough to prompt him to look up and call out whoever was on the other side. The door slowly creaked open at his words, revealing a subordinate with a nervous air. As he shuffled on his feet, the subordinate managed to stammer out, "Mister Leclerc, sir, there... uhm, guests at the front desk. Military men."

Raising an eyebrow at the information, the man decided to answer immediately.

"Hmm... Very well. Show them my office."

Shortly after, the door opened wider, revealing three soldiers clad in immaculate brown tunics embellished with white wing insignias above their left pockets. The emblems on their caps and the distinctive glint of pride in their eyes signaled to the man that these were men who belonged to the skies—the Kingdom of Mu's Royal Flying Corps. To the man, whose company is among those who provide the Kingdom's aerial warfare units with flying machines that allow them to soar so freely in their domain, their crisp uniforms and confident strides are somewhat familiar presences.

Having come all the way from the capital city, at the forefront stood a captain, while flanking him were two younger men. As the man rose from his desk, straightening his posture to greet them, his eyes quickly settled on the brown-haired 20-year-old-something lieutenant standing to the right side.

"Acier!" he exclaimed in a delighted tone. "How long has it been?"

The man's face lit up with a grin as the three men took turns exchanging handshakes with the man. When the young lieutenant's turn came, he spoke with an equally cordial air.

"Ah, yes, it's been a while, Roche, my Cousin. Good to see you again."

"Welcome, gentlemen of the military. Please make yourself comfortable," Roche gestured to the couches. "What brings you to my office today?"

Instead of immediately taking a seat, however, the captain cleared his throat and stepped forward. The twisting of his torso amidst his gesture drew Roche's attention to a satchel bag that the man brought with him.

"Thank you for your warm reception, Mister Leclerc. Today, we came here to hear your thoughts on something. Something familiar, but also rather peculiar, we might say."

He reached into his bag and retrieved a folder, placing it on the desk in front of Roche, and gestured for the man to take a look at it. Roche's fingers instinctively reached for the folder with curiosity as he flipped it open.

"Dreaming Child...? Huh, the military came up with a design study for a next-generation fighter plane, I suppose?" he muttered at first.

A quick glance at the first pages was enough to send a jolt of surprise through him. Then, when he came across the photos, drawings, and specifications, his eyebrows shot upward.

"...It's from the Holy Milishial Empire? ...Alright, this is a bit confusing. Captain, what exactly is this document?"

"What you are seeing is the copy of technical documents our diplomats acquired during the recent Eleven Countries Leadership Conference. The Holy Milishial Empire presented them to our delegation, claiming it to be an aircraft design they'd been working on. In short, as they're seeking to expand their exports to the aviation industry, they're offering to sell this plane to us, with the possibility of a production licensing."

"Huh...? Are you serious?"

A sharp intake of breath accompanied Roche's shift in demeanor into one of astonishment as he scanned through the pages of the folder handed to him more carefully. His bewilderment only intensified as he continued to scrutinize the documents. The resemblance of its contents—the Dreaming Child, a "magic propeller-driven biplane"—to their own flying machine design was undeniable, mirroring the core design elements from the double-winged configuration signature of a biplane and the placement of a propeller in front of the nose. It was uncanny, like staring into a warped reflection of their own creation.

"This can't be right..." he trailed off as he reread the document. "Are you sure there hasn't been some kind of mistake?"

The captain shook his head. "We received the documents directly from Milishial's government."

"We were just as perplexed, Cousin," Acier commented seeing Roche's face. "But do you think that our usual common sense is working against us this time?"

Roche chuckled slightly.

"Maybe they're copying us. It is what they always do."

"Copying an 'inferior' technology... then those Milishians must be crazy."

This design, which was eerily similar to their own flying machine, directly contradicted the established knowledge everyone had about the Holy Milishial Empire. Propeller-driven airplanes with multiple wings were renowned as the hallmark creation of Mu for a reason—they were the only ones creating and using it because of their circumstances. According to common sense, Milishial's magic technology, the most advanced in the world, enabled them to soar through the skies using monoplanes propelled by magical engines dubbed "jets" by the Milishians themselves. From this description and Roche's firsthand observation of a Heavenly Vessel in flight, he inferred that Milishial's magical engines operated by expelling a rapid stream (jet) of either gas or mana that generates thrust for the aircraft. Its high performance surpassed Mu's current flying machine technology, and the Heavenly Vessels of Milishial consequently served as a benchmark that they set to emulate.

Monoplanes, with their single-wing design, offered several advantages over biplanes. They were sleeker, creating less drag, which translated to higher speeds and better fuel efficiency. Additionally, monoplanes were generally easier to maintain and maneuver compared to the complex structure of multiplanes with their intricate systems of struts and wires. Recognizing these advantages, Mu's aviation industry treated monoplane technology like a holy grail. They had been diligently pouring resources into researching and developing their own monoplane technology, hoping to stay ahead of their wyvern-using neighbors while bridging the gap between their capabilities and Milishial's dominance in the skies. The field of aviation in Mu is better in its progress when compared to the warship development where the conservative Neutralist faction often clashed with the radical Innovators that only resulted in compromises after compromises.

Within Mu, the sole nation whose concept of science and technology is lacking of 'magic,' brilliant minds seeking non-magical solutions to imitate Milishial's jet-powered marvels make an appearance from time to time. But at present, the majority of aviation engineers are focused on refining biplane designs and making incremental progress in their pursuit of improvement. However, the inherent high drag of the biplane will someday restrict performance, but the engines at hand were not yet powerful enough to make the heavy cantilever-wing monoplane like the Milishian Heavenly Vessels viable.

At a glance, the Holy Milishial Empire presenting Mu with their own signature craft did feel like a cruel joke. It seemed nonsensical, illogical, and reeked of something fishy.

"Dreaming Child... made by a main family member of the Roguerider Foundation..." Roche muttered, cupping his chin with his hand after several more moments poring over the documents. "Hmm... I couldn't help but think that those Milishians seem to be on to something. Nevertheless, this is a rather interesting, if a bit unnerving read."

A flicker of recognition sparked in Roche's eyes as he read the name "Roguerider Foundation" as the one who designed this plane. He knew the name well – it was synonymous with immense wealth and influence as a sprawling conglomerate with its fingers in numerous industries. However, to his knowledge, their ventures had not yet strayed into the realm of aviation, such as his own Leclerc Aviation Company. Nor does his knowledge include the Roguerider family's personal life.

"This design seems to have originated as a private endeavor by a member of the Roguerider family, not an official undertaking by the Foundation itself," the captain supplied.

"What does Milishial want giving this design to us?"

"Milishial is also inviting our country, along with several other civilized countries who don't even possess aircraft technology, to participate in a joint project to further develop this 'Dreaming Child' aircraft."

"...Really? I never heard about this from the World News."

"That is because the Milishian government informed us only through the inter-minister meeting. The details are still being discussed by the upper echelons, but we have been ordered to seek insights from companies like yours," the captain admitted. "In their statement, the Milishian government emphasized their desire to 'uplift the technological prowess of all friendly nations' through collaborative efforts."

"Technology transfer is the main goal, then? Unbelievable. It will be more realistic for them to force others to buy their products. What's the deal with them, honestly?"

"Well, that's the million-mandar question, isn't it?"

"...I take it the government wants to see if they can do things more... independently?" Roche then asked in a leading tone.

"It's not my place to speak about such things."

Having expected such an answer from a soldier, Roche shook his head and dropped the inquiry. "Well... Flaunting their might whenever they could seem very in the character of Milishial. But one can't help but wonder about their true motives. You see, if you look at this from another angle, this can be seen as the Milishians leaking our technology to the less technologically advanced countries. Is it possible that they've stolen our country's technology only to force that stolen technology into us to stunt our own progress?"

"As wild that thought is, you are not the only one who thought that way, Mister Leclerc, but we have our orders."

Roche's concern was valid. Even though the man himself did not know it, years have passed since the Middle Lands have turned into an impenetrable fortress where only one out of every two hundred spies dispatched there is able to return safely. This naturally terrified Mu's intelligence community, as they assumed that their rival's intelligence-gathering capabilities were equal to their skills in eliminating spies. The fact that Milishial never brought up this matter even once and continued with their "let's befriend everyone" mood further unnerved them. Silence is golden... except when it isn't. Nothing is scarier, after all.

For the more optimistically-minded, it is also possible that in a case of convergent evolution, the Holy Milishial Empire was always able to create propeller-driven vehicles, but the presence of reverse-engineered Ancient Sorcerous Empire relics rendered the technology obsolete over there. Possible, but not something the Muish with their own pride and a sour relationship with Milishial would want to acknowledge since they've mastered it for so long only to be faced with this mockery of their technology. While cooler heads might prevail and the government might be more inclined to be more pragmatic, an average citizen will sooner subscribe to the random conspiracy theory spouted by some random motherfucker that states "Indeed, the HME is nothing but a nation of pretentious copycats that steal technology from everyone."

News flash: people, no matter who they are, always copied the best thing that works from each other ever since humanity itself existed, especially if it's the newest thing around. In order for people to not lose competitions or wars, they adapt the shit that works. Milishial is a prominent example of adapting the shit that works from their excavated relics because they make themselves stand in the spotlight, but Mu and Milishial also did it to each other and to other countries where they see shit that works.

Decrying this fact is so dumb. It's like expecting each civilization to make a triangular or rectangular wheel because the circular one is already taken by another civilization and copying it means 'stealing technology.'

Nothing is true, everything is permitted.

However, this ugly sentiment prevalent in Mu is exacerbated by the Holy Milishial Empire itself, which has no peer power to measure itself to, resulting in them having a tendency to treat other nations—even fellow superpowers—like a grown man looking down on children. Being so infuriatingly condescending even if they're not malicious seems to be their national trait.

This is why in Roche's mind, the lingering resentment between the two heavily contrasting societies will cause the damaged relationship between the two just like the aftermath of the 1592 Sol Island Dispute will never truly heal. This also what made Roche be more inclined to think there's something suspicious about this whole Dreaming Child affair because it came off as rather mean-spirited.

"Is 'Meteos Roguerider' person is even real?" Roche blurted out, wondering about another tidbit.

And then, the captain's next words left him shaken. "This Meteos Roguerider person is indeed real," he confirmed with a steady voice. "He's the fifth son of the Roguerider Foundation's chairman, and despite his young age of fifteen, he's often mentioned at Runepolis' circle of intellectuals as an engineering prodigy, much like his elder siblings."

Roche let out a bitter smile. "Are you saying... there's a whole army of prodigies that can cheat technology across the ocean? Small wonder their country is advancing so quickly..."

"Hahaha, nice joke. But take that with a grain of salt, Cousin," Acier reminded. "For all we know, this might be one of those Milishian propagandas."

"...Which did very in the character of the Milishians as well," the captain finished. "But assuming that Milishial's intentions are genuine, what do you think about the design, Mister Leclerc?"

Roche's shoulders slumped slightly.

"...Being the undisputed top dog allows one to get away with such a bewildering thing, isn't it?" he sighed, but quickly regained his composure and began to look over the document again to find where he should start.

"First of all, does it surprise you that this Dreaming Child surpasses our mainstay fighter in terms of raw performance alone?"

"........."

"Ahaha, I see."

Sensing the captain's lack of interest in humoring that question, Roche cleared his throat and delved deeper into the document.

Despite being larger and heavier, the Dreaming Child's listed maximum speed of 330 kilometers per hour is still a staggering 110 kilometers per hour faster than Mu's S.V. Challenger. Still nowhere near half the performance of an Alpha-2, but with it boasting a clear edge in other performance aspects, Mu with an air force of Dreaming Child-level flying machines will never struggle against wyverns anymore.

Furthermore, Roche identified a few key differences that contributed to the vast performance gap between the two aircraft.

"While the design is similar enough to our flying machine that I'm confident we can create something similar to this Dreaming Child, there are some details that will prevent us from achieving the same level of performance. The first thing that jumps out is the material they've used. The airframe is entirely constructed of iron bamboo, meaning that the Dreaming Child is a robust 'all-metal' aircraft on a level unlike the Challenger which is made of wood and canvas."

The captain crossed his arms thoughtfully. "This iron bamboo... it's the magic material's equivalent of aluminum for them, isn't it?"

"A very rough comparison, but that's the gist of it. I also heard that with proper 'magical treatment' during production, it can result in a lighter and stronger alloy than steel. Probably also easier to work with. With this material advantage alone, they've leapfrogged our current biplane technology by a significant margin."

"...What else?" the captain prompted with a slight grimace.

"Written here is the engine output of 730 horsepower, compared to the 150 horsepower our Challenger's internal combustion engine manages at best. That's an almost fivefold difference! It's no wonder the Milishians can claim it to boast such superior speed and climb rate."

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Roche continued while tapping the relevant section of the document.

"While this design isn't using that 'jet' magical engine, it uses a 'lightning-type magical motor.' Essentially it's a magical engine similar to an electric motor in our country. To see something so weak that it can't even move cars be used to power an airplane like this..."

Mu's reliance on internal combustion engines for their flying machines stemmed from their own unique circumstances. Electric motors, while theoretically possible to be used for aviation, were hampered by the limitations of batteries and insufficient power to propel an aircraft effectively. Steam engines, while prevalent in other industrial applications with their high power, were simply too bulky and heavy for the desired performance of aerial vehicles. The immense weight of boilers, water tanks, and coal drastically limited the payload and maneuverability of the aircraft. This is why internal combustion engines, which are light and produce a reasonable amount of power, are the best choice.

The captain leaned forward. "So, your conclusion is that if we want to build something similar, finding an equivalent to their materials and engine seems like the biggest hurdle, wouldn't you say?"

"Indeed. But using magical technology is simply out of the question, yes? If you can make a local metallurgist create the equivalent of an iron bamboo and find me an internal combustion engine that can produce an equivalent output, however... I think I can work on the design."

"Unfortunately that's easier said than done, Mister Leclerc."

"Well, we must make the most of it with the hand we're dealt, aren't we?"

Faced with the captain's complaining tone, Roche Leclerc offered him a noncommittal shrug. It's not like they can do much about it at the moment. They were all caught off guard by their rival's whimsical behavior which left the Muish decision-makers, military, and intelligence scratching their heads.

However, shortly before the month ended, a certain aircraft engine manufacturer gained their attention with a piece of good news brought by its recent development.

May 22, 1616 Central Calendar, 23:00

Area 01 – Hill of the Crying Moon

San Redentore District, Runepolis, Holy Milishial Empire

Within a research facility built by tunneling a hill on top of an exhausted Ancient Sorcerous Empire ruin, Baron Bandero Capone, the Minister of Ancient Sorcerous Empire Countermeasures, strolled alongside his right-hand man Andreas Birkburn beneath the bright fluorescent lights of a cavern-turned-hangar. Within, a jet-black Heavenly Vessel belonging to a type just very recently entering service with the Imperial Air Force, only a month or so, was undergoing maintenance. The crew working on it wore masks that reflected the light like polished silver moons, obscuring their faces.

The Baron smirked. "Heh, they aren't pulling any punches, aren't they?"

"Indeed. They see the need to absolutely dominate any opposition in both firepower and intelligence, it seems."

"But in the context of the Ancient Sorcerous Empire, I wonder if our progress so far can fare against them..."

"In any case, it's better that we overestimate the enemy than getting complacent with the current state of affairs."

"Hmm..."

The Heavenly Vessel in question achieved many "firsts" for the Holy Milishial Empire. As an aircraft designed to drop large quantities of air-to-ground weaponry onto a distant target within enemy territory to hamstring the enemy's capacity to wage war, in other words a "strategic bomber," this aircraft was developed ostensibly based on the evidence found in the ancient ruins that the Ancient Sorcerous Empire was using powerful bombs to deliver devastating damage enemy cities. Concurrently, as the Holy Empire sought to acquire such large bombs for their use, they devised a vehicle capable of delivering these munitions and the associated technologies, resulting in the creation of the Gamma-1, the first strategic bomber of the Holy Empire.

Appearance-wise, it boasted a mesh of smooth shapes and straight edges. The cylindrical fuselage featured a greenhouse-style canopy covering with a similarly covered nose section. Its wings, positioned high on the fuselage as a monoplane design, housed the four engines within shared nacelles, two per wing. These wings were of a straight-wing design and mounted onto the middle of the fuselage. The empennage followed a traditional T-shape, with cantilever horizontal surfaces and a singular vertical tail surface. At the base of the rudder there was a position for a tail gunner equipped with heavy machine guns. It took to the skies for the first time last year and the production variant entered service with the Imperial Air Force on the 22nd last month.

Not only designed to carry up to ten tons of dumb bombs, efforts have been undertaken to enable the Gamma-1 to use the radar-guided glide bomb invented by Meteos Roguerider as a viable anti-ship weapon. Furthermore, the same young prodigy participated in the development which resulted in the design process anticipated the day the Holy Empire succeeded in reverse-engineering the same weapon that once wiped out the legendary Infidragoon: the Core Magic.

Large and in charge, as Birkburn joked. Able to achieve speeds from a cruise speed of almost 600 km/h to a maximum of slightly above 900 km/h, is there any air force in the known world capable of stopping such an imposing beast from penetrating deep into their home territory?

The parties concerned would have thought so if not for the fact that the mainstay jet fighter fielded by the Annonrial Empire at present is apparently revealed by Meteos Roguerider to be able to chase and shoot the Gamma-1 down. In addition, the hangar next to this one is occupied by an incomplete Alpha Zero, a late Second Epoch fighter of the Ancient Sorcerous Empire. Still under restoration process to analyze, estimates by Meteos Roguerider put its performance of being able to reach Mach 2, or twice the speed of sound, while being armed with guided magic bullets. It served as a grim reminder that the Holy Empire still had much to improve.

Once again, the Alpha Zero is a late Second Epoch technology, meaning it existed around the time the August Star of Heaven was dropped by the gods to banish the Light-Winged People. If these mortals knew that the Civilization Annihilation Game cursed the Ravernal Empire to evolve backward, many of them would die of shock and broken hearts.

As the pair approached the modified nose of the large aircraft, Capone opened his mouth to speak. "The modification seems to be coming together well."

"True that," Birkburn commented. "The Order's specifications for this aerial reconnaissance variant are proving quite achievable."

The silhouette of this black plane remained largely unchanged from the base Gamma-1, but the transparent bombardier's nose was completely faired over, and the tip of the aircraft's nose where a forward oblique camera was installed had a characteristic duck's bill shape. Along with provisions for external fuel tanks to extend the aircraft's range, droppable rockets to assist takeoff could also be utilized. A total of 12 cameras could be carried in four positions—four at the vertical position in the rear fuselage, four at the split vertical station, one high-altitude day reconnaissance camera mounted on a pallet just aft of the wing trailing edge, and the aforementioned nose camera. The bomb bay was replaced with additional fuel tanks.

With its extended range, theoretically this reconnaissance Gamma-1 variant is able to cover even the deep Annonrial Empire's territory if it takes off from the Gynamo Kingdom, an Outside Civilization Area country sitting between the Annonrial Empire and the Holy Milishial Empire.

With that in mind, Capone turned to look at his auburn-haired subordinate.

"So... the Order thinks the Holy Empire is ready to challenge you-know-who?"

Birkburn waved him off. "What? In an open confrontation? Too soon."

"Hmm... So instead of munitions flying, it will be a 'cold' war of poking and prodding, then."

"Hey, I like that term. How are you so good at giving terms, Minister?"

"Tsk..."

Capone rolled his eyes. Birkburn's carefree demeanor sometimes annoyed him, but he cannot deny that it was he who saved his ass from getting sacked due to a lack of results.

"Anyway, it's not necessarily them that the Order is concerned of. If we want to know what the other superpowers are hiding from us, we can put the Heavenly Vessel to good use. This time, it will be completely untouchable."

"I can see that."

As Bandero Capone called it, the seeds of a "Cold War" between the true first and second-strongest country of planet Ars Goetia have been sown.

May 31, 1616 Central Calendar, 04:30

Runepolis, Holy Milishial Empire

This last day of the fifth month marked a full month since they returned from visiting the Eleven Countries Leadership Conference's proceedings at Cartalpas. For the proud Holy Empire, the smooth progress of this biennial event without some incomprehensible problem occurring was a matter of course, but for one member of the Imperial Lineage, the significance lay in how the international gathering had turned into one big treasure trove for the duty she had been entrusted with. Princess Lugiel was still trying to sort out the sheer volume of information and new channels that kept coming one after another, and even now, she grappled with the weight of its implications.

Clad in a black and white attire that made her so enamored by the public, a portion of her companions was a group that was supposed to be dealt with more discretion. However, the secrecy of the Albion Palace's underground halls where the entourage was walking now offered Lugiel some leeway from the stringent protocol. The Princess herself was trailed by a team of four Imperial Guards, but to her right side were Amon, their intermediary Flamberge, and three masked figures wearing hooded coats in a fashion similar to that of Amon's. Whoever they were, these were the shadows working with the one catalyst for their huge success.

Amon. The name echoed in her mind as the architect of the information deluge that threatened to drown her in its sheer volume the moment he decided to share it with the Order and herself. Despite his human origins, Amon's existence is clearly a cheat of the universe, possessing an ability to see the future with a clarity surpassing even the vaunted Spatial Divinations of the Dragonoid race. He unhesitatingly utilized this gift in engineering occurrences that would lead to obtaining and disseminating information that would otherwise be very hard or outright impossible to pull off.

For example, by utilizing the Roguerider Foundation as, well, a foundation, for his activities, Amon's influence already extended to the lands beyond the Minerva Ocean. He covertly passed on data regarding something he made as a "funny exercise" that would be useless for the Holy Empire's magic technology to a certain Muish aircraft engine manufacturer in Mykal through his agents. Later, he revealed that these agents used the data sent to them to develop two kinds of components known as a "supercharger" and a "turbocharger." Both are devices capable of dramatically increasing the performance of an internal combustion engine for a given displacement by forcing more air into the engine. Then, when this manufacturer progressed in developing a new engine utilizing supercharger technology, the Holy Empire's proposition to Mu to collaborate on further developing the Dreaming Child biplane came along at a rather convenient time like a strike where it hits the most.

With Mu now confident that their 'homegrown' technology is able to create an equivalent to the Dreaming Child's 730-horsepower lightning-type magic motor, their hesitation in joining plummeted. Another agent who was given the instructions to create a nonmagical alloy called "duralumin" in Mu completely turned the apprehension into eagerness.

Even though he wasn't physically present, Amon also used his gift of seeing the future to practically help Mu advance its nonmagical technology. Now that he proved capable of reaching the world himself in order to pursue a goal beyond the concept of national borders—the betterment of mankind, Amon's potential to bend this world to his whim in a vigor that surpassed even the Order of the Ancients actually unnerved the Princess, but out of respect to the great benefactor who has nothing but kindness for them, she did not let the expression of fear cross her face in the slightest.

With the intention of seeing Amon's group off after having a meeting with them, Princess Lugiel and her entourage led them walking along these halls before stopping in the middle of the empty corridor.

"Once again, I cannot express how valuable your insights have been. The information you have provided will be instrumental in safeguarding our future as always," she said sincerely.

Inclining his head slightly in acknowledgment of her words, Amon responded. "The pleasure is mine. In any case, we shall continue to share information with each other. The more we work together, the better equipped we will be to face the future."

"Indeed."

"Well, I'm looking forward to seeing your Task Force Nightraider uncover the ancient superweapons and other relics based on the locations I have provided, if that's not something too unbearable a request for you."

Lugiel let out a soft giggle that bounced off the cool stone walls of the corridor. "Oh, Amon, of course," she shook her head playfully, "your eagerness sometimes shines through even your best poker face, or mask."

"I just can't help myself."

"To be fair, I also shared your sentiment," the princess smiled. These two had grown quite close ever since the beginning of the year when Meteos approached the Princess with the Temple of Heaven. Had it not for Amon's mask, the interaction between the two in a more private setting could be mistaken for that of a sister and her younger brother. Meteos is still suck at interacting with people, but the Princess is just that good.

Letting out a chuckle of his own, Amon looked at his group. "Anyway, Your Highness, we should return soon. May your victories multiply."

"Thank you, Amon. On you as well."

The Princess gestured towards one of the Imperial Guards trailing her, a tall and slightly tanned Guardswoman with a set of majestic eyebrows, and nodded.

"Now, would you be so kind as to guide our esteemed guests out?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

Possessing a voice as deep, if not deeper, than some of the males the members of the entourage knew, the appointed Guardswoman responded crisply and approached a seemingly unremarkable section of the wall with a raised hand and fingers flexing slightly. Then as she clenched her fist and swung her hand down, a portion of that wall slid downwards, revealing a dark passage beyond. With a final exchange of pleasantries, Amon and his men followed the Guardswoman into the passage, the section of wall seamlessly sliding back into place behind them.

…………

The masked men followed the Guardswoman through the dark passage illuminated by the soft green glow emanating from crystalline outgrowth emerging from the walls and ceiling. The air grew thick and stale the farther they traversed the path, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and something metallic. After what felt like an eternity, the passage abruptly ended, leaving them staring at a solid stone wall. But instead of getting confused, the Guardswoman proceeded to bend the earth again, this time the seemingly unremarkable surface slid down to reveal a gaping maw beyond.

If not for their enchanted masks, a wave of fetid air would have passed over them with an unmistakable stench of sewage. The passage beyond was no longer the dusty earthen tunnel they had been walking through, but a dank expansive sewer somewhere underneath the Imperial Capital.

Seeing such a repugnant sight, Amon held back an undignified snort.

Runepolis is riddled with a network of tunnels and bunkers maintained by the Order of the Ancients, with entrances and exits that can be the most random of places. These passages serve as their hidden veins allowing them to navigate the city unseen and to provide shelter in the event of an emergency, controlled in peacetime by a dedicated unit to safeguard their secrecy. Using a system of combinations that changed daily, this unit controls which section of the tunnels is opening and closing in order to confuse unauthorized individuals who managed to breach through the Order's defenses from compromising them until an extermination squad is dispatched to eliminate the threat they pose. These sections are highly varied in appearance, ranging from something resembling the back rooms of a commercial building to a massive warehouse with concrete floors and walls to dim concrete maintenance hallways and so on. Among the Order's members, the activity of traversing these hidden tunnels is often referred to as "Exploring the Backrooms."

Technically Meteos Roguerider fits the description of an intruder, but the Temple of Heaven complicated matters. Although he possesses knowledge of how the Order works from his past life, he is not currently a member in this timeline. However, the network he built had succeeded in seamlessly integrating with the Order enough for him to operate as if he were one of them. This included going in and out of an underground section of the Imperial Palace where the hub of the Order is located.

Amon turned to the Guardswoman. "Thank you for your guidance, Captain Kuvira. Please continue to watch over Her Highness' safety. You do an excellent job."

Captain Kuvira's response was as dry as the stale air they had just left behind. "Amon, I am a member of the Imperial Guard. It is what I do."

"......Just trying to be polite."

"Hm. You take care of yourself too, Young Master."

"Yes. Have a nice day."

The Guardswoman nodded curtly and retraced her steps back through the hidden passage, the stone wall sliding shut behind her. Now left alone, they climbed the stairs and emerged from a manhole into the empty alleyway of the Belyudra District north of the palace. Across the view of the Great Sumter River that glistened in the metropolis' light, the Albion Palace loomed against the lightening sky. Each of them removed their mask for an intake of a breath of fresh air.

Seeing that not a single soul is out except for themselves, the shortest one turned to the rest of the group.

"That went about as well as I expected," Meteos deadpanned.

"That, my adorable apprentice, is the beauty of people that they come in all sorts of quirks and personalities. Kuvira might not be the chattiest, but she gets the job done and that's what matters most for her," Robin chuckled.

Legiel, unable to resist a playful jab, chimed in, "Perhaps, Little Brother, you should take some pointers from Mrs. Robin on how to improve your social skills."

"Silence."

Ashera intervened with a grin. "Come on, Lil' Bro, don't let Legiel wind you up. Captain Kuvira is one of our lot, ain't she? Maybe she just ain't keen on the stink down below, like the rest of us."

"Anyway, I should get back now," Robin announced. Despite her enjoyment in adventuring with her scheming apprentice whenever her turn comes, Robin of the Third Timeline has a husband and son to take care of.

"Yes, thank you for your help, Teacher. See you later at the workplace."

As a farewell, the siblings offered a playful fist bump with widening grins before watching Robin turn and melt into the shadows, her laughter echoing faintly as she navigated the labyrinthine alleyways.

"Back to the planning we go," Legiel drawled pointedly at Meteos. "With all these scheming running parallel, to make this country strong against the Game's victims, to outsmart the Annonrial Empire, and to uplift other countries so that they will not be poor cannon fodders... Do you ever wonder what could have been if you were alone and without such a story-breaker gift, Little Brother?"

From now on, whenever Meteos deals with newly mentioned people in his alter ego Amon, it is safe to assume that he used the Temple of Heaven. Limited by his instant death should he try to use it on things deemed frivolous, he had no choice but to make the most of it in the areas he is safe to use it.

Meteos narrowed his eyes in silence. He bristled with quiet anger, but he refused to humor Legiel's provocation further. Legiel accused him of being a selfish hoarder of knowledge who only helped primitives out of pragmatism, but he already made a promise that he would be better.

"Hey, Lil' Bro. I got a question."

Ashera's pensive inquiry gained Meteos' attention as they walked home.

"Yes?"

"How come you've been playing mastermind all this time and yet your group still hasn't a name yet?"

"........."

Meteos stared at her for a moment before letting out a defeated groan, the sound muffled by his hand as it came up to massage his forehead. "Honestly, Sis, it never even crossed my mind," he confessed. "For some reason I can't come up with a good name for my own group... Any suggestions?"

"White Lotus."

The name hung in the air for a moment, with the three siblings turning to Ace who uttered that name. Meteos' eyes widened a fraction in intrigue at the simple, yet elegant-sounding name, prompting Ace to explain in a calm and measured tone.

"Purity, enlightenment, and spiritual growth. A lotus has its roots in the mud, but the stem grows through the muddy water producing, above the water, a pure and beautiful flower."

A smile crept on the reincarnator's brightening expression.

"......To be better."

Ace nodded.

"It is a good and thoughtful name. Little Brother, let's consider it positively," Legiel urged, offering a rare genuine praise.

"So, what do you think?"

"It's decided then," Meteos declared. "From this day forward, our endeavor shall be known as the White Lotus."