The Simulacrum - Chapter 113

“Oryah!”

Following the rather odd war cry, midriff-woman lunged at me with her cutlass. Before it could connect, I deftly leaned out of the way of the strike and focused on her other hand. Instead of following through with the initial attack, she moved past me and did a pirouette that left her back completely open, after which her right arm swept back, she struck a dramatic pose, and aimed her oversized pistol… at the spot where I stood a second ago.

“Too many unnecessary movements,” I grumbled as I planted the butt end of Teeny between her straddled legs and swept her right foot out of under her with a smooth motion. Since Barriers only reacted to magic and sudden impact forces, using soft force like that allowed me to bypass her defences, and her posture crumbled like a water tower built on quicksand.

She didn’t give up yet, and even as she was falling to the ground, she frantically tried to adjust her posture and aim at me. My danger sense didn’t give a single warning though, so I ignored her attempt and used the opportunity to exhale out a dramatic groan, just in time for her to hit the ground with an undignified yelp.

Momentarily dazed, she remained prone for a few long seconds, which meant I could take my sweet time to position the blunt end of my spear over her and lightly tap it against her exposed stomach. Still lying on the ground, she stared at the spot where Teeny landed on her, followed by a bitter glance at me.

“You need to pay better attention to your footing,” I told her as I pulled my weapon back. “Your outfit also requires re-evaluation. It leaves too much of your vital areas exposed for no reason.”

“It’s for the sake of mobility,” she told me while gracelessly rising to her feet.

“It’s an exchange only worth a damn if you that mobility allows you to avoid everything that would otherwise kill you. Can you?” Instead a reply, she wordlessly averted her eyes. “I thought so. Think about what I just said.”

“I… will.”

She gave me something resembling a salute and walked off, and even before I could say ‘Next!’, armour-man stepped into the ring to be my next challenger.

“Please instruct me, sir!” he proclaimed and, following a small light show, parts of his gauntlets peeled off and transformed into a sword and a shield, respectively. Would you look at that? I knew a whole lot of Knights, and yet the first time I met someone with a sword-and-board setup, it was a Celestial of all things.

Anyhow, his gear looked rather flimsy, just like most Celestial arms, reminding me of wireframe sculptures composed mostly of thin air, with only a few strands of metal giving them definition. As always, first impressions were not necessarily reliable; despite their outward appearance, the mana thrumming between those metallic pieces was quite solid, acting like a sort of force field able to stop impacts as well as cut like any blade. Impressive as they were in that regard, at the end of the day, the lack of a solid structure meant they were extra-vulnerable to my phantom limbs; a single poke could turn them into a pile of scrap metal on the floor, which meant I had to be extra-careful around them.

…

But then again, Jaakobah did mention that Polemos was supposed to be able to command Celestial weapons with a stern glare, so maybe I was just being too cautious. Anyhow, armour-guy took up a defensive stance, and it earned him some praise… though not from me.

“[Look out, young knight! That man is a fierce warrior!]”

“You only say that because he looks like one of the Knights,” I whispered back to the sword hanging on my waist, and flourished the spear in my left hand. “Please focus on healing my arm and leave the commentary to me.”

“[Observation: The opponent uses a shield. Preparing for protracted combat.]”

Ignoring the two weapons muttering in my head, I focused my attention on armour-guy, and he definitely looked more impressive than the previous contestants. Since my right hand was still a little clumsy, I was using my shape-shifting weapon as a short spear, with my left hand doing the majority of the work. A sword might’ve been more fitting in this situation, but I was way too used to wielding a spear while training, so I stuck with the familiar for the time being, even if it was a little unwieldy from time to time.

Not that I actually needed to pay too much attention, as these guys weren’t exactly powerhouses. If I had to make a comparison, they were roughly on the level of the Fauns. Not Brang, but more like Pip or Rabom. In fact, ignoring their fancy equipment, their skills might’ve been a little lacking even, especially when compared to our friendly ram-men.

I was curious if the same applied to this guy as well. He was taking his sweet time, so I gestured for him to come at me with my free hand. I didn’t need to do it twice, and after a short beat, the man’s whole body shone with ethereal light. In the blink of an eye, he accelerated to a full dash and charged at me with his shield held out in front of him. Since he was coming at me in a straight line, it was remarkably easy to just step out of the way, yet to my surprise, he didn’t pass by me.

Planting his feet hard enough to make the floor shake under mine, armour-guy came to an abrupt halt and swung his sword at me horizontally. He mustn’t have had enough time to aim properly, as the strike completely whiffed, yet he didn’t panic, and he followed through with another swing while guarding his upper body and head with his shield.

It was a strange combination; he was trying to stick close to me and keep me under pressure, yet at the same time he was also keeping his guard up, never fully committing to offence. If nothing else, I had to give it to him that his stance and technique were better than average. Not quite on the level of Brang, but better than a random Faun. Somewhere around Duncan’s level, I reckoned?

Was my sense for an ‘average’ combatant being skewed by my environment, I wondered as I avoided another strike aimed at me, followed by a shield bash that was so obviously telegraphed, I could’ve easily dodged it even without the help of my danger sense. There was no reason to parry either, as due to armour-guy’s divided attention between offence and defence, his attacks were too conservative and half-hearted to pose any real danger to me, and I soon settled into a relaxed routine with him.

Maybe due to that, only about a minute into the duel, I found myself slipping into an old habit I developed during my time training with Brang, and before I knew it, my mind wandered into Far Sight.

It was most likely because he was on my mind, but my vision automatically gravitated towards the old Faun, and I found him in his usual spot behind the counter in the base’s lounge section, though not in the usual company.

“Rinne still can’t believe Leonard-dono would do something so reckless without telling Rinne about it!” a certain highly visible ninja complained aloud, nearly upending the half-empty cocktail glass in her hand in the process. “Rinne really thought Leonard-dono was kidnapped and worried for nothing!”

“Worrying is pointless. Blackcloak, kidnapped? Impossible,” the elderly Faun stated in a sagely manner and handed a pair of alcohol-free mocktails to the other girls sitting on the bar stools. Or at the very least I sincerely hoped they didn’t have any liquor in them, otherwise, I’d have to give him an earful he won’t soon forget.

“That’s right. There’s no way Leo can be held somewhere without his consent,” Snowy agreed with the ex-general and took the glass.

“Why is that obvious?” my other sister, and the recipient of the last drink, fumed and drank about half of it in one go.

“It’s… just how Leo operates.”

My Abyssal sister’s response sounded both guarded and frantic at the same time. She was probably late to realize that, unlike the rest of the people present, Penny alone didn’t already know about my Phasing ability.

“Uuu… I’m still sooo mad! If he was safe, he should’ve at least contacted us to tell us about it!”

“He did tell Judy-sama and Elly-sama!” a new voice entered the fray as a tiny fox head emerged from Rinne’s shadow, causing my knightly sister to yelp and almost fall off her stool.

“D-D-Don’t just come out of nowhere like that! You nearly made me spill my drink!”

The foxy miko giggled and, with a ‘yip’ sound, she dove back into the shadows. It was only at this point that I belatedly realized that the three of them being in the secret base like this was fairly weird. It was a school day, so shouldn’t they be in Blue Cherry High, instead of sitting around like that in their casual clothes? At least, as much as Mountain Girl’s pantsuit counted as ‘casual’, I meant?

“And why can’t we tell Uncle Percy about it? He was the most worried out of all of us,” Penny continued to grumble, and Brang’s ears swivelled apprehensively in the background.

“Blackloak’s orders. Must follow. Must have meaning.”

“I know, it’s just…” She didn’t finish that sentence, but instead she emptied her glass and put it on the counter. “Please give me another one.”

While I would’ve liked to watch whatever shenanigans this little group was up to, since I was reminded of him, I figured I might as well use the opportunity to check on Sir Percival. No sooner than I thought that, my vision shifted, momentarily revealing the armoured man I was ostensibly fighting putting his four wings on dramatic display before my point of view snapped over to…

“… reporting in. Is everything proceeding as planned?”

Oh? Oooh. Was my timing great or what?

Once my metaphorical eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I beheld the old bastard, his outlines hidden by a freaking cloak of all things, talking to a fist-sized glowing orb inside a room with all the shutters and curtains closed. I had no idea where he found a private spot like this in the Dracis mansion, but I was too fascinated by the thingie in front of him to care much about the small details.

Over the crystal ball, set on a small, padded square box, floated a semi-transparent projection of a similarly cowled head. It was blue, and blurry, and it even had freaking scan lines! How delightfully retro-futuristic.

“So he was taken in by the Reformists first? My, my. Interservice rivalry in the Directorate is still going strong, isn’t it?”

Wait. I didn’t hear an answer to the first question, which meant if there was one, only Percival could receive it. This wouldn’t have been the first time I had to piece together a conversation using only one side, but I had a hunch this one was too important for half-measures like that. He was willing to make contact while in the middle of ‘enemy territory’, so to speak, so I would’ve bet my spleen that whatever they were talking about had to be significant enough to warrant the risk of discovery.

It didn’t take me long to figure out how to work around this, so I quickly cycled through all the Celestial directors I recently marked, aaand… Jackpot.

“… concern yourself over such details,” said Director Mensah, wearing a stupid hood and sitting all alone in a tiny room, no larger than a utility closet. “Whether it is us or Tsephanyah who vouches for him, so long as the Orthodoxy aren’t in control of him, it serves our purposes.”

I could see Percival’s mouth moving, so I hastily switched back.

“… to pay close attention to the boy. He’s a born manipulator.”

Switching again, and… uh, this was getting a little disorienting…

“… sound rather proud of that.”

“… course I do. A teacher always takes pride in a student doing well.” I automatically switched my point of view over to the Celestial’s side, only to hurriedly come back to his side when I noticed he was still talking. “… too well, in fact. It boggles the mind how he managed to plant the seeds of loyalty in everyone around him, and I still can’t figure out just what kind of leverage he used to strong-arm the Feilongs into supporting him, even after they learned of his affiliation with the late Brotherhood. It absolutely boggles the mind, I say.”

This time, I moved my vision in time and caught the director on the other side stifling a groan.

“That is of little concern to me; unless you’re trying to tell me that you’re unable to accomplish your task, that is.”

“Oh, don’t worry, director,” Percival responded in the company of a fake chuckle, and this time I heard all of it. I was getting better at this. “I’ll find the cracks sooner or later. You can leave everything over here to me; you should focus on keeping the kid under control.”

“I have already assigned one of my best and most trustworthy subordinates to keep a close eye on him. He’s more than capable to subdue him if necessary.”

“I wonder about tha—”

“I yield!”

My impromptu spying operation came to an abrupt and unforeseen halt when armour-guy bellowed out and fell to one knee in front of me. To say I wasn’t startled by this development would’ve been a lie, and to be honest, I was also quite irritated, as the two conspirators still didn’t say anything actually useful to me yet.

“Come again? I was distracted for a moment.”

“I said I yield, sir. It is obvious I don’t measure up to your standards, sir.”

To be fair, from what I recalled, he was easily the most impressive combatant out of the seven I’d fought so far, but telling that to the heaving man, with flaccid wings on the ground that reminded me of wilted flower petals, might’ve been misunderstood as taunting him.

“Sir? May I have a question, sir?” Armour-guy called out to me, still sounding laboured, and I nodded by reflex. “Over time, you gradually increased the pace of the fight. I was too late to realize I was drawn in, but by that time, I could no longer keep up and was forced to exhaust myself. It was this mistake that allowed you to defeat me without raising your spear even once. Was this the lesson you wanted to impart upon me, sir?”

I hadn’t even the foggiest of ideas about what he was talking about, but I was never too proud to refuse undue credit (at least as long as it didn’t cause me more trouble than it was worth), so I pretended to be impressed and let out a thoughtful hum.

“Your ability to rationally observe the situation is remarkable. There might be hope for you yet.”

The guy’s face lit up like I just gave him the greatest praise he ever received in his entire life, to the point I could tell that even through the helmet hiding half his mug. Anyhow, I wanted to get back to Percival and Mensah, so I ignored the guy and turned to the rest.

“Let’s take a small break, shall we?” I said, followed by an absent-minded, “Who’s going to be the next in line after that?”

“With all due respect, O Lord Archon,” wetsuit-guy stepped forth and showed both of his palms to me. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that testing us like this is meaningless.”

I was just a little bit displeased by how he was holding things up, so I raised a brow at him and uttered, “Meaningless, you say?”

“Y-Yes,” he faltered, for just a second, but stood his ground. “It is obvious that we, simple Cherubim, cannot stand up to your majestic power alone, but we are never meant to fight by our lonesome.”

“That’s right,” one of the Celestials who remained silent until now, let’s call him uniform-dude, supported his colleague’s argument with a shaky voice. “If a strong enemy would threaten your life, O Archon, it is our collective duty to protect you, and so we would fight together.”

“That may be, but how are you going to demonstrate that. Do all of you want to fight me at once?”

I threw that out because it sounded stupid, yet all of them looked like they were waiting for me to say that.

“Yes!” midriff-woman, already recovered from her earlier embarrassing defeat, exclaimed with her hands on her hips. “You said that only this Bel of the Abyss would be able to threaten you, so if we could match you together, wouldn’t that mean we could also fight this Abyssal too?”

“Or at the very least hamper him,” another new voice, this one wearing angular blue armour pieces over a high-tech black spandex full body suit, both covered in glowing blue lines (temporary designation: sci-fi-guy) came to the forefront, but despite his outfit and his spiky blond hair making him look striking, he shrunk back right after that.

As much as I wanted to argue, each passing second meant I was missing out on more information, so I scoffed and turned my back on them with a dismissive, “Sure. Let’s do that after the break,” and walked away. Mike’s father looked like he was about to come over to my side, but I waved for him to leave me alone and, after finding a nice wall to lean against, I closed my eyes and returned to Sir Percival’s side.

“… at this time. If you need me to talk to him, you know where to find me.”

By this time, switching to the other side came automatically to me.

“That will not be necessary. You should focus on your task. A war on the soil of our ancestral land would be most inconvenient right now.”

“Yes, yes, I know. Appease the Magi, foster conflicts within the organization, encourage the forming of factions as they arise, and pit them against each other to keep everyone busy. This isn’t my first rodeo, you know? Trust me.”

“True, but this assignment might be the most important task of your entire life, agent. Treat it with the care and attention it deserves.”

“Sure, sure. If you care that much, then hurry up and send Leonard back as soon as possible. I could use his help.”

Oh? Did I hear that right?

“Don’t make me repeat myself. He’s still in the process of adapting to his memories. Once he’s ready, you’ll know.”

“Then I leave him in your care until the time is right,” Percival relented, but the eyes barely visible under his spooky hood told me he was getting suspicious of the man on the other side. “Just remember: don’t let him loose, or you’ll regret it.”

“I assure you, everything is, and remains, under control. Until the next scheduled contact, I wish you luck, and may Deus be with you.”

“Same to you, director. Same to you.”

That was apparently the end of the strange holographic call, and Percival hurriedly put his crystal ball away. Ultimately, I didn’t learn much, but there were at least two new things that intrigued me to no end. First, Sir Percival was apparently unaware of the whole Polemos-thing, and was still under the mistaken impression that I was here to get my amnesia ‘cured’, something on which the leader of the Unorthodox faction wasn’t keen to correct him. Secondly, while he was playing nice with Mensah, he obviously caught on to the fact that he wasn’t given the whole truth and was left suspicious.

Wondering how I could use this to my advantage, I was still deep in thought when I was approached by the Seraphic Safeguard commander, closely followed by the hodgepodge squad of Celestial guards.

“Lord Archon? Are you sure about this?”

Opening one eye, I glanced at the bearded man’s worried face and shrugged.

“If nothing else, it should be quicker than testing them one by one.”

“Yes, that’s true, but…”

“Sir Archon, sir! We have made our preparations!” armour-guy used the silence in the wake of Kane’s words, much to his chagrin.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to speak yet, optio.”

“Sir, my apologies, sir!” armour-dude responded briskly, his voice lacking even a hint of remorse.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Lurching forward to detach myself from the wall, I walked over to the spot where we were sparring just a few minutes ago, and the rest followed after me like a bunch of not-particularly-cute ducklings. Facing them, I planted the blunt end of Teeny by my side and levelled a dispassionate gaze at the group. “Ready when you are.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Armour-man was apparently elected as the leader of the group while I wasn’t looking, as with just a single glance serving as the signal, he caused the group to spread out and retrieve their weapons, opening the curtains on the final round of this impromptu ‘training session’.

To say that the group was eclectic was an understatement. The big guy in the middle had his sword-and-board, while midriff-woman behind him was brandishing the same cutlass and handgun as before. On my right, sci-fi-guy had a long glaive with flat, curved blades on both ends, while tunic-guy was sporting a longbow that was as big as he was tall. On the other side, wetsuit-man had a pair of katars strapped to his wrists, while a previously unmentioned participant I promptly christened hammer-guy was… well, he carried a sledge-hammer the size of an engine-block. Quite self-explanatory.

Then, as if they had rehearsed this ahead of time, all of them started singing. It was a slow melody, an aria of some kind sung in Latin, or at the very least some kind of Romance language. If I paid close attention, I felt like I could vaguely understand the meaning of the lyrics, but I had no time to do that, as my danger sense started sending multiple warning signals to me at once.

Raising my right foot, I was just in time to avoid getting tangled by the glowing whip in uniform-dude’s hand. Using Teeny for balance, I ducked out of the way of the two arrows fired at me, one from a bow and the other from midriff-woman’s handgun, but before I could catch my breath, I could hear the thundering footsteps of armour-guy charging at me. He was just a second too late though, as by the time he got close, I regained my balance and simply pointed my spear at his face. He reflexively hid behind his shield, but it caused his momentum to falter just long enough for me to sidestep out of his way.

Unfortunately, that got me in the crosshairs of wetsuit-guy, and he leapt at me with his katars pointed forward. Once again, I only needed to extend my spear a little, delivering a feint at his face before pulling back and flourishing the weapon in my hand, using the other end to smack the top of his head. He managed to cross his forearm-mounted blades overhead, yet the impact still sent him reeling back, much to my surprise.

Long story short, without realizing it, I began to unconsciously ramp up the physical enchantments of my Leoformer. The output was a fraction of what my proper armour could provide, but it still gave my strikes some surprising heft. Regrettably, it also caused my right hand to throb and sting like I just put it in a nettle bush.

“Cal, status report,” I hissed between clenched teeth as I swatted two small arrows out of the air, and then neatly bisected a third, larger one, right down the middle. I didn’t plan to do that, but it looked pretty cool.

“[You’re fighting against twelve mighty foes, young knight.]”

“Not that, you—! My hand! What’s the situation with my hand?”

“[Oh. Hm. Your internal injury isn’t getting worse, but I’d recommend that you practice restraint.]”

“I’ll try,” I whispered, my voice drowned out by the sound of my spear repeatedly clashing with sci-fi-guy’s weird double-sided glaive as he did all kinds of weird, unpredictable break-dance moves while swinging it.

Luckily for me, uniform-guy choose this opportunity to lash out with his magical whip (or lasso, or whatever it was), and with just a little push at the right moment, I managed to easily entangle sci-fi-guy’s weapon in it, temporarily taking both of them out of the fight.

Just as I was about to catch my breath, armour-guy burst forth from a blind spot on my left, and even with my sixth sense’s forewarning, it took some effort to avoid his shield bash. For the first time, I was forced to retreat, and I assumed a more defensive posture. He didn’t follow through with his charge though. Instead, he repeatedly smacked his sword against his own shield and exclaimed, “Start the canon!” from the top of his lungs.

For a long beat, half of the people fighting me fell silent, only to then sing the same song with a bit of a shift in the timing, and… was that just my imagination, or were they glowing even brighter than before?

Before I could give that question its due consideration, all twelve of them brought out their wings and started a new round of assault, this time led by wetsuit-guy and hammer-dude. It was an odd combination, considering one of them was continuously spinning his arms around like he was a human wood chipper, while the other seemed like he had a hard time swinging his weapon, delivering measured (and easy to avoid) strikes only every once in a while, made just slightly more difficult by the shooters and uniform-guy occasionally bothering me from a distance.

All things considered, I had to readjust my evaluation of these guys. While individually they were roughly on the level of our Fauns, while they were working together like this, they were… well, still on that level, but maybe with some Kage ninja support from the back? It was hard to tell, as it’d been a while since I last sparred with those guys a group, but that was the impression I got.

If there was just one small difference to mention, it was definitely the coordination between the members. The Celestials continuously weaved in and out of combat, only fighting me two or three at a time, while receiving fire support from the rest of the team, and there was a certain cadence this gave to the fight. In a way, it felt kind of like a dance, where everyone was already aware of the choreography but me, and I had to use my reflexes to keep up as much as I could.

…

Wait. Was this what the song was about? To help their timing?

“Second verse! Go, go, go!” Armour-dude bellowed from the back and began to rhythmically beat his shield, and as he did, the colourless magical light surrounding the group further intensified a notch. There had to be another effect of some kind to it, I surmised as I avoided facemask-guy’s ball-and-chain trying to entangle my weapon (I didn’t mention him until now, because he was a sneaky one). He had a strange sickle in his other hand, and I was pretty sure that whole thing was an actual Japanese weapon, but I couldn’t recall the name of it, and instead I gave a solid kick to sci-fi-guy, presently spinning on his back with his weapon extended, like some kind of young mutated assassin tortoise or something.

Whatever this song’s effects were, I had to admit it was pretty catchy. It had a solid melody that reminded me of one of those bands the princess recommended to me a while back. The one that covered popular rock- and metal songs, but with a Gregorian chorus. It wasn’t exactly my cup of tea, but it was certainly memorable, and even as I listened to these guys, I couldn’t help but unconsciously follow the beat, and… Oh, wait. Maybe that was the goal? To draw me into their rhythm? Because if it was, it kind of worked.

Of course, I knew that was bad for me, because it made me predictable, but it was hard to ignore. It wasn’t due to some kind of magical effect or anything (though it might have been for them, considering that they had halos of magical light pulsing to the rhythm); just the beat being infectious. Luckily, this wasn’t the first time I had to deal with an earworm, and I had a very simple solution: just listen to another song with a catchy tune until it overrides the first one.

That said, I didn’t exactly have access to my usual music library, nor my phone to play it, so I had to improvise. Dodging another hail of arrow fire, I ducked under the hammer aimed at my chest, then rolled out of the way of armour-guy’s next charge, only to be menaced by wetsuit-guy again, and… long story short I didn’t have the time to think of a fitting song while trying to stay afloat. In the end, I went with the first thing that came to mind and started humming.

“Hm-hm hm-hm-hm hmmm~” As if timed for when I started, wetsuit-guy swung at me repeatedly, and I somehow ended up parrying each strike right on the note I was humming. Feeling strangely vindicated, I pushed my advantage, and before I knew it, the lyrics slipped through my teeth. “You know the rules and, so do I~”

“W-Watch out!” he cried out in something that was way closer to abject terror than it had any business to be. “He’s using counter-hymn!”

“How!? He’s alone!”

That question came from Kane of all people, watching us from the side-lines while clutching his own lapels for some inexplicable reason I was too busy to ponder. Pulling back my spear, I ignored the numbness in my right arm as I raised Teeny over my head, rested its shaft on my free palm, and, to the rhythm of ‘I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling~’, I delivered nine consecutive thrusts. They weren’t aimed to kill, only to disorient, and while wetsuit-guy managed to block the first three or four of them by flailing his arms, he quickly lost his balance and fell over.

“No! Third verse! We need the third verse!” Armour-guy bellowed as he rushed in to support, and if we were talking about verses, I was just about to hit the chorus myself.

‘Never gonna give you up~’

Parry the sword, poke the shield, stop the charge with a well-timed shoulder slam.

‘Never gonna let you down~’

Use the momentum to close the gap, grab the arm with the sword, and throw him to the ground.

‘Never gonna run around and desert you~’

Two steps back, cut the arrow coming my way, two more steps, smack the archer on the temple with the blunt end of my spear.

‘Never gonna make you cry~’

Let uniform-guy wrap his whip around my weapon, and then use my physical enhancement to immediately yank him over and use him as a human shield to block the rapid-fire attacks of midriff woman.

‘Never gonna say goodbye~’

Turn uniform guy into a projectile and knock facemask-guy out by throwing him right into his face, and with the same motion, sweep the legs out of under sci-fi-guy and then slam him into the ground with a vertical swing of my spear.

‘Never gonna tell a lie and—’

“We… We yield!”

Grab midriff woman and… wait, what?

Blinking in mild surprise, I glanced at armour-guy, still lying on the ground and holding his right elbow. Did I injure him? And speaking of injuries, I glanced at my aching right arm, and at the end of it, I found midriff-woman dangling in the air, with my fingers clenched around her neck, her face turning redder by the second. Crap, that’s actually pretty dangerous.

First things first, I let her down, and after making sure she could both breathe and stand on her own, I let her go with a shake of my hand and forcefully cleared my throat.

“Please excuse me. I’ve got a little too immersed in the beat.”

I had no idea why I put it that way, as it sounded absolutely asinine even to my own ears, yet nobody in the room laughed. If anything, the construction workers were practically cheering, while Kane was… still nervously clutching the lapel of his military uniform. What was that about?

In the meantime, the people still standing helped the ones on the floor to their feet (with the exception of sci-fi-guy, who was out cold), and formed something resembling an orderly row in front of me. I’m not going to lie; I was feeling a tiny bit guilty about what happened, so I decided to put some salve on their bruised egos.

“Your performance was roughly what I expected. Your teamwork was decent, but your individual strength is nothing to write home about. With enough training, I suppose you might just make great warriors one day.”

“Sir.” Armour guy spoke up, this time without an accompanying salute, since his right arm was limply hanging by his side. “Please instruct us, so we may be worthy to serve you.”

“I told you I don’t need…” I began, only for my words to trail into silent consideration.

While I wasn’t keen on these guys breathing down my neck, considering they were specifically chosen to monitor me, maybe having them around wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Thinking about it, if I straight-out refused them, I was sure the directors would use other methods to keep tabs on me, and I was sure that, being the annoying espionage faction of the supernatural world, they had lots of means to annoy me. Wouldn’t keeping my ‘guards’ around be one of those classic ‘better the devil you know’ kind of situations? And no, I wasn’t saying this because I was feeling a pang of guilt over roughing them up more than initially intended. No sir.

That said, my Polemos character was supposed to be a hardass, so I remained silent a little longer, culminating in an irritated grunt.

“Fine. I’ll look after you when I have the time,” I stated, doing my best tsundere-old-guy-in-a-young-body impression (it wasn’t hard, I just had to mimic Sebastian) and, after asking Teeny to return to its short sword form, I waved at the group and uttered a flat, “Dismissed.”

My ‘guards’, looking relieved and proud in equal measure, stood ramrod straight and saluted me to the best of their abilities. In the meantime, Mike’s father, who turned strangely meek since we entered this makeshift training facility, headed my way. Before he would reach me, I quickly placed my aching hand on the pommel of the sword on my right.

“Cal? Please tell me I didn’t accidentally wreck my arm again…”

“[Very nearly, young knight! I told you to practice restraint, didn’t I?]”

“Got caught up in the moment. How bad is it?”

“[It will take at least one more… no, two more weeks to fully heal! You need to take better care of yourself!]”

“[Recommendation: Interface:Cal’s diagnostic systems seem to suffer from a dangerously wide bar for error. I recommend switching to Interface:Teeny’s treatment subsystems.]”

“[Silence, wench! My young knight was talking to me, and I never gave you permission to refer to me so informally!]”

While my weapons descended into bickering, Kane reached my side. It was easy to tell that he was distinctly uncomfortable, and when he spoke up, there wasn’t a hint of the previously audible hard edge remaining in his voice.

“It was a rather… extraordinary display of power, Lord Archon.” He paused, clearly gauging my reaction, and when I didn’t respond right away, he cleared his throat to ease the tension in the air. “So, if I understood your words right, you approve of your honour guard?”

“Approve is a strong word. For now, I’ll tolerate their presence and watch over their growth.”

“I’m sure they feel honoured, Lord Archon.”

I wanted to question what he meant by that, but when I saw that the construction workers, who served as our audience, were practically lining up to congratulate my newly appointed ‘honour guard’, I felt that I mostly understood him after all. Caring was another matter entirely, and just as I was about to start thinking of a way to get away from this place before they started asking for ‘pointers’, or something equally asinine, a new face entered the hall, and I let out a relieved breath. I never expected that Jaakobah’s dour mug would ever have such an effect on me, but as they say, strange situations create strange bedfellows.

“Great timing.” I gestured for him to come over, and before he could get a word in, I pointed at the guards. “I want you to take care of these guys.”

The stoic agent, or should I say, ‘Praetorian Guard’, spared a glance at the battered Celestials and turned a questioning gaze at me.

“Me?”

“Of course. Didn’t you designate yourself as my personal guard? That makes you their commanding officer.”

“I… suppose that’s logical.”

“Of course it is. With great promotion comes great responsibility.” I paused for a beat to let that sink in and then pointed at the man on my left. “Work with Primus Khurshid to get them equipment, healers, and anything else they need. You’re free to use my name in the process. I’ll head back to my quarters. Report to me there after lunch.”

“Understood. Do you require anything else?”

“No, that’s—” Cutting myself short, I recalled something, and added, “Actually, there’s one last thing. Please get me a bottle of the cheapest wine you can get your hands on,” before I casually walked away, paying little heed to the non-honour-guards scrambling to catch up to me.

Time passed by quickly after I returned to my designated quarters on the fifty-second floor. Despite the initial hubbub, there didn’t seem to be much for me to do as an Archon, but I still managed to find ways to fill out the time. First and foremost, I swept the entire place for traces of surveillance, and to my surprise, I couldn’t find a single one. I expected at least a few floating orb thingies, but there was nary a hint of them.

That, of course, didn’t mean that there couldn’t be any electronic devices around, like some tiny spy cameras hidden between the shelves or something. That said, I didn’t have any bug detectors on me, which meant I couldn’t do anything about those. If there were any, that is.

Anyhow, once I swept the quarters, I spent some time using Far Sight and mostly focusing on the second meeting between the directors, but while I was hoping for some new insight into their maybe-nefarious-maybe-not plans, the discussion was exactly as meandering and full of bickering as the first time around. Last, but not least, I focused inwards for a while, tweaking the Leoformer, both to make the enchantments more stable and to make my current outfit, the vaguely angelic armour with the fancy laurel crown, slightly more comfortable to wear. It kept me busy until it was lunchtime.

Speaking of which, I hadn’t eaten anything since the previous night, as I skipped breakfast to build my alibi, and things had been coming one after the other, with the Directorate’s meeting and the honour guards and everything. To say that I was famished would’ve been a bit of an understatement, to the point I even entertained the idea of Phasing back to Critias for a few minutes to buy a chocolate bar or two. In the end, I discarded the thought and patiently waited for my lunch to be delivered right to my room, and while I was less than enthused by the menu, consisting of fried and braised vegetables, brown bread, fruit juice, and some sponge cakes, I still cleaned all my plates.

The previous night’s dinner was pretty much the same, which made me wonder: were Celestials vegetarians? Angie’s carnivorous tendencies spoke otherwise, and I had seen a couple of farm animals during my expeditions into the nearby settlement, but it wasn’t out of the question. I figured it was just another thing I had to ask Jaakobah about once he showed up.

“Archon.”

Oh, speak of the devil. Or the not-angel, in this case.

“Come in,” I told the dour agent, currently wearing a high-class grey dress uniform with lots and lots of fancy needlework on the hems and lapels and… wait. Is that a cravat? Damn, that’s fancy.

Though again, considering that I had a freaking laurel crown, I probably shouldn’t be the one to talk. Anyhow, he closed the door behind him and walked over to the meeting table, where I just finished my lunch.

“I came to report, as ordered.”

“Then go ahead and do that,” I responded a tad impatiently and took a sip from the apple juice that came with my meal. It was served in a needlessly fancy crystal glass, but it was refreshing enough, so I didn’t complain.

Jaakobah must’ve mistaken my action as a subtle hint and presented me with a long paper bag with string handles.

“I have procured the wine you ordered. Do you wish to sample it?”

“It’s not for me. Just put it down over there.”

Following my instructions, he placed the bag onto the table with a characteristic, glassy clink, and turned back to me, waiting for further instructions. Since I finished my lunch, I figured we might as well move back to the bedroom for the second round of interrogations, but as I stood up, I suddenly felt weak in the knees and had to grab onto the back of the chair to stay upright.

“Archon? Are you all right?”

Despite the words, the stoic healer’s face remained completely neutral, and so did his voice.

“It’s fine. I’m just feeling a little lightheaded,” I told him matter-of-factly, and he acknowledged it with a nod that said it was none of his business. While his attitude felt a little callous, it was also infinitely better than some weird overreaction, so I didn’t take him to task over it and instead focused on my breathing.

Truth be told, I had been feeling a little woozy for a while by this point, but I wrote it up to low blood sugar levels. The fact it was getting worse even after I ate some was slightly troubling, so I put my hand onto the pommel of Cal.

“I could use some meditation right now,” I told them, and thinking that it was addressed to him, Jaakobah nodded along.

“[Do you mean that circulation pattern the dragonblood clan head taught you? I already told you that you should not be too reliant on such—]” Cal abruptly fell silent, which felt oddly unnerving. “[Young knight? Don’t you feel fatigued?]”

“A little. Why?”

This time, Jaakobah blinked in mild perplexity. I continued to ignore him and focused on the sword’s response.

“[I didn’t pay it any attention, but this outfit of yours draws power from your Oaths, just like your armor would.]” I nodded. “[Common sense dictates that an active connection like that should put tremendous strain on your body. I do not detect any damage yet, but I suspect it might be the source of your ailment. Hey, newcomer?]”

“[Grudging statement: Interface:Teeny would prefer to be addressed by the official designation bestowed by Archon Polemos.]”

“[Does it really matter? Check my young knight’s health, just to be sure.]”

“[Observation: Interface:Teeny didn’t hear the word ‘please’.]”

“[Young knight! Do something about this obstinate wench!]”

“[Statement: Interface:Cal’s joke drivers are out of date. I recommend updating them.]”

“[What’s a ‘driver’? Is that some kind of insult?!]”

Instead of responding to their accusations, the short sword hanging on my left side softly trembled, and as it did, I could feel a wave of warmth flashing over my whole body, giving me goosebumps.

“[Diagnosis: Interface:Cal’s initial assessment was correct. There are signs of fatigue and mild internal energy burns across Archon Polemos’s body. I recommend an extended rest to allow natural healing.]”

In retrospect, all of that was pretty obvious, to the point I felt a little silly about overlooking it until now. Knightly equipment worked by tuning up and supercharging the user’s body with mana. The Leoformer, while lacking in terms of raw power output, was using the same Oath receptacles and mana pathways, and it was creating a constant drain cycle just by me wearing it. It was a strain so small it was hard to feel it, especially since the baseline physical enchantments were masking its effects, but since it had been active for, what, two whole days now? Yeah, that kind of stuff adds up.

Once I understood the problem, I took my weapons out, much to Jaakobah’s further confusion and apprehension, and placed them onto the table, right next to the empty plates and the wine bottle. Using my phantom limb, I turned off the Leoformer, and immediately, two things happened. First, in a flash of light, my Polemos disguise disappeared, and in its place, I was once again wearing my parka, jeans, and outdoor shoes from the time I was ‘kidnapped’, so to speak. Secondly, the sense of weariness and lethargy, held in bay by the same physical enchantments that were behind the strain that caused them in the first place, washed over me like a beach break wave over the sands.

Rolling my shoulders, I took a couple of deep breaths to steady myself and then picked up the swords again. Cal was easy to deal with, as his scabbard had a clasp I could easily fasten to my belt, but Teeny was a different matter. In the end, I decided to carry them in my hand and turned to the increasingly befuddled Agent.

“I need some new clothes.”

Blinking, he looked over me from head to toe and then gestured towards the door in the back of the… well, this wasn’t exactly a ‘living room’ per se, but for now, let’s go with that. Anyhow, I followed the direction where he was pointing, and when I headed over, he quickly lined up behind me. I didn’t like that, or the silence.

“How are your new subordinates doing?” I asked while reaching for the door handle.

“There were some disagreements about the hierarchy, but they are already resolved. The positions of the Praetorian Prefect, and the Praetorian Guards as well, should be ratified by the end of the week.”

“I presume the first one is your new official title,” I guessed, and while I wanted to add something snappy to the end of that sentence, the thought was completely wiped clean by the sight on the other side of the door. “Is this supposed to be a wardrobe?”

“I think that’s the term, yes,” Jaakobah answered in an unflappable manner, but even he seemed at least a little surprised by the sheer size of the place.

If I had to liken it to something, it was closer to a fancy clothes shop than anything, with rows and rows of hangers, boxes full of shoes, and various accessories filling the shelves on the walls. On my left, there was a sea of elegant shirts and coats, while on my right, enough trousers to drown a man, in various cuts and styles, from simple business casual to some fancy cross-breeds between dress uniforms and togas. I had no idea how I managed to miss this during my surveillance-sweep, but for now I decided to blame the fatigue and put it out of my mind.

Under the watch of the stoic Celestial, I took a few adventurous steps into what felt like a hoard of a dragon really, really into fabrics. Without thinking, I unhooked the first article of clothing that caught my interest, and after measuring it against my chest, I turned to the man still standing by the entrance.

“Is everything here in my size?”

“Naturally.”

“When did you even have time to arrange this?”

“It was prepared well before we made contact with you,” Jaakobah patiently explained and made a sweeping gesture. “Director Tsephanyah personally ordered for these clothes to be made using your measurements.”

I… wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about the Celestials knowing my measurements, but there was something else I had to point out before anything else.

“Why’s everything white?” He looked at me like the question was completely preposterous, and I was too tired to get into an argument over something stupid like this. “Never mind. Let me look around. In the meantime, give the rest of your report.”

Jaakobah straightened his back at once and put his hands behind his back.

“The guards assigned to you are currently undergoing medical treatment. None of them are seriously injured, so by tomorrow, they should be able to enter active duty.”

“Glad to hear that,” I muttered while comparing two nearly identical white button-up shirts.

“I’m going to have another meeting with Primus Khurshid later in the evening, about the duties and authority of the Praetorian Guard.”

After saying so, Jaakobah remained silent, waiting for my response, and after going through a few more articles, I exhaled hard and turned to him again.

“Tell him that they have no duties until I trained them up to my satisfaction.”

“I sincerely doubt the Board of Directors would agree with this,” he pointed out with just a hint of a frown. “They put your safety before any other matters.”

“No, they just want to keep me under watch,” I responded offhandedly and put a white blazer in front of me. “How does this look?”

“I’m… not well-versed in terms of fashion.”

“Neither am I,” I admitted, and after taking another look, I put it back on the racks. “In any case, if they kick up a fuss, tell them to shove their opinions up where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“If you insist,” the man by the door shrugged, and after a long beat, he asked. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes, lots of things, actually.” Pausing, I set a pair of dress shoes that caught my eye aside before turning back to him. “First, before I forget it: do you eat meat?”

“Are you asking me in particular?”

“No, just in general. Or is there some special reason why only vegetables are served here?”

Jaakobah thought way longer and harder about the question that I considered necessary, but ultimately responded with, “According to the historical records, the Second True Archon lived an ascetic life.”

“No, I didn’t,” the response slipped out from some weird back-room of my mind, and even the short sword, currently tucked into my belt at my back, agreed with me.

“[Clarification: Archon Polemos led by example, practicing austerity during the famines caused by the war on the Abyssal Usurper. Post-war, Teeny’s records indicate that he dined lavishly, and analysis based on post-reincarnation understanding indicates that high cholesterol levels and extended alcohol consumption after the passing of Archon Deus might have contributed to the first incarnation’s—]”

“Stop, I don’t care,” I cut Teeny short and shook my head. I couldn’t exactly confirm whether or not they were telling the truth, since most of the memory fragments I inadvertently took in either faded away, or got absorbed and lost in my own memories, making them difficult to intentionally recall, but what I heard just now definitely made sense.

“Were you talking to the Spear of Destiny?”

“Yes. Don’t mind it,” I answered Jaakobah’s inquiry and dove into the rows of various legwear in front of me, only to pause and add, “For the record, tell the kitchen staff that they can ease up on the vegetarian menu. Oh, and while you’re there, also tell them to be more subtle with the poison.”

“Poison? Were you poisoned?”

For the first time, my very own ‘Praetorian Prefect’ sounded alarmed, but I dismissed him with a wave of my hand, without even looking up from the trousers in front of me.

“No, of course not. It’s just to keep them on their toes.” That exchange was followed by an awkward silence, so to get over it, I forcefully cleared my throat and threw another question at the man by the door. “Never mind that, and answer me this instead: What are the meanings of the various numbers of wings, and how do they relate to Celestial hierarchy?”

“What… exactly do you mean by that?”

Finally settling on a straight-cut white trousers, made of a thick fabric that reminded me of denim, but was also weirdly soft to the touch, I faced him again to clarify my question.

“So far, I understand that Seraphs are people with six wings, and Cherubim are people like you, with four wings. Explain that whole system to me, from the ground up.”

Jaakobah still looked rather confounded by my request, but spending so much time explaining stuff to me the day before must’ve already desensitized him to weird questions, and he gathered his wits remarkably quickly.

“Currently, there are five castes of Celestials, approved by the Bureau of Celestial Rights and Purity. Until recently, the purest of Elysium were the Seraphs, signified by the possession of three pairs of wings.”

“Until recently?” I prompted him while moving on to the accessory section, though I was mainly looking for socks and underwear only.

“As of your return, as an Ophanim, you naturally stand at the pinnacle.”

“The particulars, Jaakobah. Get to the particulars,” I half requested, half groaned while still searching the shelves.

“Ophanim used to be the purest scions of the purest bloodlines. Possessing six burning wings, they all controlled some aspect of the Celestial Flames from which we were born.”

“Wait, we’re getting too particular now,” I cut in again, with a pair of remarkably modern boxed shorts in my hands. They were white too, because of course they were. More importantly, I turned to the self-promoted Prefect with a frown. “Let’s leave the mythological origins for later, and focus on the wings and the other stuff.”

“Understood.”

“Good. Also, what was that about the ‘aspect of the Celestial Flames’ again?”

Once again, Jaakobah’s face darkened, but it only lasted for a split-second before he assumed his usual power face.

“Powers beyond mortal means only granted to the Ophanim.”

“What’s mine?”

“… Don’t you know that?”

“Do you?” I asked back, and after a long beat, he actually shook his head.

“I’m afraid I do not know the details. I’m not a historian.”

“Maybe for the better. Your historians suck,” I quipped to move the conversation along and made a mental note to ask Teeny about this later. Hopefully, it’ll be something I could fake with some elbow grease, and I also had something to do about the wing situation sooner or later as well. Oh, excuse me, the burning wing situation. Lest I forget. “You were talking about the Ophanim in the past tense.”

“Correct. There had been no Ophanim born since the death of the Second True Archon.”

“And that’s why the Seraphim are the current top dogs.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

In the meantime, I assembled an outfit I considered semi-presentable and looked for a nice corner where I could change. Once I settled on the spot, mostly hidden by a line of thick coats and capes, I gestured for Jaakobah to continue.

“Cherubim, such as myself, were once the majority of the population within Elysium, but generation after generation, our numbers have dwindled.”

“Is that why the towers are so empty?”

“The original Migdáls were erected in the age of Deus, so it is possible. As far as my personal experience is concerned, they had always been mostly empty.”

Humming along, I peeled myself out of my previous outfit and folded everything up before placing them onto a nearby stool.

“What about the rest of the people, living outside?”

“The Malakim, you mean? Their lot is to work the land, as decreed by Deus.”

“Are they all two-winged?”

“That’s correct.”

“What about the Celestials outside of the Elysium?”

“You’re talking about the Ishim.” He paused as if waiting for some kind of reaction, but I was too busy quickly putting on the new underwear to give any kind of input. “Ishim are the two-winged descendants of Cherubim, though, in very rare occasions, they might be the descendants of the Seraphim as well. By law, they would have to leave the Migdáls to be raised by and live with the Malakim, but it had become tradition to arrange for such newborns to be adopted into human families, and only reveal their heritages later in life.”

“So you guys are aware that being a peasant sucks, and instead of doing something about it, you have a whole system designed to dodge demoting your kids into a lower caste?”

Jaakobah’s frown deepened, though I could only catch a glimpse of it from behind my makeshift screen made of clothes.

“This was something decreed by Deus, and approved by Archon Polemas. That is to say, by you.”

“Maybe, but do you seriously think this whole system was supposed to still be running, completely unchanged, in the year of… something-something twenty-first century?”

He apparently couldn’t find the right answer to that and remained silent while I finished changing. Stepping out into the open, I beheld myself through Far Sight, and all things considered, I looked decently presentable. At the moment, I was wearing a pair of dress shoes, the already mentioned denim-ish pants, a double-breasted suit jacket with silver buttons, and a thin button-up shirt with a mandarin collar, without a tie. The only thing I reused from my previous attire was the belt, since it housed the Leoformer, and both my weapons were hanging from it once again. For Teeny’s, I had to use a leather belt loop I’d found among the accessories, and while it wasn’t exactly the right size, it was good enough. Needless to say, all of that was pure white, including the belt loop, and while it wasn’t exactly ‘my colour’, I felt that I looked at least okay in it.

Jaakobah also looked me over, but instead of commenting on my attire, he just let out a soft hum and told me, “Director Tsephanyah is also concerned over the segregation between the Malakim and the rest of our society. Maybe you could discuss the topic with him in the future?”

My gut reaction was to nod, but I forcefully stilled my head, closed my eyes, and exhaled a long breath to center myself. Remember, me; I wasn’t here to reform Celestial society. I already had waaay too many things to worry about, and pretending to be Polemos was very different from actually being in charge of an entire country, civilization, or whatever term the Elysium would be labelled with.

I only needed to figure out the general situation, differentiate the good guys from the bad guys, and then once I was in the clear, say adios and return to my loving girlfriends’ side and pretend that this whole intermezzo never happened. I really wasn’t cut out to be a statesman anyway; it was too much responsibility.

But speaking of the girls, it’s been a while since I last checked on them, so I used the opportunity to Far Glance at them, followed by a click of my tongue.

“Well, I guess that’s it for now,” I whispered just loud enough for Jaakobah to hear, and then raised my voice to the usual level. “I’m afraid we have to cut this conversation short. I have some business to attend.”

“… Are you planning on leaving the Migdál again?”

“Yes,” I told him without any reservations and picked up my previous outfit.

“If the directors learn of this, they won’t be happy.”

“You’re reporting to me. Why do you care whether they’re happy or not?”

Snorting dismissively, I walked over to the bedroom and deposited the folded clothes onto the bed before turning back to Jaakobah. The man looked unusually conflicted, and when our eyes met, he opened his mouth with an expression that was halfway between determined and resigned.

“In that case, I’ll accompany you.”

“No, you won’t,” I denied him on the spot, but he didn’t kick up a fuss. “You have a meeting with Kane anyway, don’t you?”

“It’s true, yet as your only official guard on duty…”

“Just let it go. You can’t stop me, and you couldn’t keep up with me even if you tried.” He apparently didn’t need any more convincing and showed his loss by lightly shrugging his shoulders. Gesturing towards the entrance, I waved my hand and said, “Off you go then.” He turned on his heel right away, but before he could take a step, I hurriedly called after him, “Oh, just one more thing. Tell the kitchen that you’re going to bring me my dinner. Be here at eight, sharp.”

His eyes told me that he had many questions, yet Jaakobah remained silent and only nodded deferentially before leaving the place. I waited for a while longer and made sure through Far Sight that he left the floor before I cast my long-range glance at my girlfriends again. They were inside the underground base’s reception room, along with my sisters, all of them in casual clothes. Penny was pacing up and down in the middle of the chamber, while Elly, Snowy, and Judy were sitting on one of the padded benches set against the wall opposite to the door leading into the teleport closet. Furthermore, Judy, in particular, was holding a large sign saying ‘We’re ready when you are’ written on it in big yet impeccable hand-written letters.

That was much faster than expected. I thought it would take them more time to gather everyone for the emergency meeting, yet in just half a day, they somehow managed to do it, and based on the cluster of red dots I could sense nearby, they probably gathered not just all the Fauns, Knights, and people related to me, but quite a few others as well.

Slightly impressed by their efficiency, I rolled my head, stretched my back, made sure my clothes were in order, and then Phased right into the teleport closet.

“Hi, girls,” I spoke up at the same time I opened the door, trying to sound as cheery as possible, yet it still startled everyone like I was a spooky ghost, or a poltergeist, or worse yet, a taxman. “I hope you didn’t have to wait too lo—”

“Brother!”

Before I could finish, I was almost tackled off my feet and back into the closet by Penny, and Snowy soon followed after her, though with considerably less velocity.

“Hi, Chief. Yes, we’ve been waiting for over half an hour,” Judy grumbled even while she walked over to my side and looked me over from head to toe.

“Wow? Where did you get those clothes?” Elly asked the question that was most likely on my dear assistant’s mind, only for Penny to snap at her for her trouble.

“Is that really the first thing you ask of him after he escaped his kidnappers!?”

“They already met yesterday, so she wasn’t as worried as you are,” Snowy explained to her, and while my knightlier sister sent an annoyed glance her way, she didn’t refute her words.

Meanwhile, I carefully peeled Penny off my side and told the princess, “Consider it a disguise. How do I look?”

Elly took my question seriously but thought for so long that Snowy managed to beat her to the punch.

“It’s fine, but I think your usual colors suit you better.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I wanted to say!”

Elly’s agreement made Snowy smile, but my attention was rather drawn to the girl who remained silent until now.

“Is there a problem, Dormouse?”

“I’m just thinking,” she said, sounding unusually absent-minded. “Say, Chief? You disappeared for a while, and then you returned with new powers and a white outfit. Does that make you ‘Leonard the White’?”

“Is that a trope?” Elly uttered in a mixture of surprise and curiosity, and Judy shrugged in a way that said ‘Maybe it is?’, much to my knightly sister’s chagrin, as she continued to huff and puff about how their reaction didn’t fit the gravitas of the situation.

“Let’s leave the meta-stuff for later. I have a meeting in the evening, so I have to be back by eight.”

“Get back? What do you mean ‘get back’? To where?” Penny continued to bombard me with questions, not giving me enough time to answer. Not that I could even if I wanted to, since the conversation already moved on in the meantime.

“That means we have seven hours? More than enough!” Elly declared, and I only just realized that she sneaked up to my side, catching me in a bear hug.

“Princess?”

“I’m charging my Leonium reserves,” she told me unabashedly. “You’ve been gone for too long!”

“… It’s been less than a day.”

“Leonium is a non-renewable resource,” Judy answered in her stead and hugged me from the other side. “We need to stockpile as much as possible whenever we can.”

“Hey! Unfair!” Penny cried out and tried to grab me again, but she didn’t have much space between the girls. Snowy, on the other hand, seemed to be content with just watching over us with a delighted smile, and didn’t fight the others for any untapped Leonium fields.

Since good little sisters deserved affection, I used the opportunity to rustle her hair with my good left hand, and after a long beat, I began to peel myself out of the three-way embrace I was trapped in.

“Let’s leave the mushy stuff for after the meeting, okay?”

“I’m fine with that.”

Judy’s response was followed up by a nod from the princess and an unexpected question from Penny, her finger trained on Teeny.

“Hey? Where did that sword come from?”

“I’ll explain everything in detail,” I told her and started walking towards the door leading into the main hall. “I have a ton of things to talk about though, so in case I forget about it, please remind me.”

Meanwhile, I opened up the heavy metal door, and the moment I did, a wall of excited sounds washed over me. Looking through the gap, I blinked in surprise, glanced at my girlfriends, looked through the door again, and then buried my face in my palm.

“Girls… When I told you to gather everyone, I didn’t mean it this literally…”