EP.270 The Nation of Steel and the Faceless Humans - 11
The command center was bustling ahead of the battle. On top of the standard war preparations, they also had to deal with the hostile entity that had advanced as far as the Alchemy Steel refinery. Even at midnight, the entire base swarmed with activity like a beehive poked by a bear.
What gave them the biggest headache, in particular, were the escaped laborers.
The laborers I had released sowed ample chaos. Unidentified laborers strolling brazenly through operational zones drew psychic screams from signal officers and adjutants. Physically, it would have been easier if they’d just killed them all, but there were too many, and worst of all, some of them were refinery workers who would be difficult to replace.
Amidst the confusion, a military auto-wagon arrived at the entrance. Soldiers demanded the night’s challenge and password, and a girl with pale pink hair, dressed in a female officer’s uniform, answered as she stepped out.
The princess, clad in the stiff uniform, moved just as stiffly. The epaulettes indicating her rank, the medals on her chest—all of it was unbearably awkward. With her round, gentle features and soft pink hair, the sight of her in a military uniform created an odd sense of disharmony that was hard to put into words.
The princess saluted with a posture strained with tension.
“L-Loyalty. Lieutenant Natalia of the Department of Public Security, reporting! On a top-secret mission!”
She stuttered and her salute was clumsy. She looked like a child desperately trying to imitate someone. The kind of performance that would make a guard feel a slight pang of guilt even while detaining her.
But her counterpart couldn’t muster the will to do so. The officer who checked her identity by her epaulettes narrowed his eyes and asked.
“Department of Public Security… You have your Alchemy Seal, I trust?”
“Um, here it is.”
“Check... Lee... Hmm. Confirmed. Lieutenant. This is purely an HQ matter, so please don’t take it to heart...”
First. The fact that she belonged to the Department of Public Security—rumored to pull down even stars hanging in the sky—was a factor that eroded his will.
“It’s not that we’re prying into state secrets, of course... It’s just a necessary procedure under these near-wartime conditions, unavoidable… Lieutenant, where are you headed, and who are those people in the back?”
“These are laborers who made contact with the hostile entity. Under Director Sieghrund’s orders, I am escorting them to the Department of Public Security for more detailed interrogation!”
“The Director ordered...?”
The second factor was that she was the youngest of the Grandiomour royal family.
Seeing her face, the officer found nothing particularly suspicious or dangerous about her. Suspicion stems from hostility toward the unfamiliar. The royal family’s authority erases even those trivial doubts.
The power of a monarch—neither the strongest, but the longest-surviving since ancient times—manifested even in these minute details.
“Sorry for taking your time. You may pass. Next... Hey! Halt! State your affiliation before entering!”
And so, we passed through without incident. The princess, about to bow her head, hastily changed it into a salute and hurriedly climbed back onto the auto-wagon.
The soldiers cleared the way, and the military auto-wagon slowly advanced deeper into the base. The princess sank into her seat, clutching her chest.
I greeted her warmly from behind the wheel.
“Good work! That was perfect!”
The princess, drenched in cold sweat, took off her cap and let out a deep sigh.
“Phew... I thought my heart was going to explode...”
“You managed to fool those notoriously strict Military State officers so easily. You’re pretty good, aren’t you? I’ll be counting on you again!”
“No... I can’t. It was only possible because they didn’t particularly suspect me...”
“They couldn’t help it. With Hilde’s Public Security Alchemy Seal and your own abilities, Princess.”
Not to mention the challenge and password I’d figured out by reading their thoughts. Procedurally speaking, there were no grounds for us to be caught.
Of course, that alone wouldn’t be the end of it.
“But I doubt that’s the whole story. The fact that we passed through safely was likely down to the command center’s will.”
“The command center’s will? You mean they tacitly permitted us?”
“Yes. If a signal officer had reported a hostile entity heading for the command base and warned all officers with our descriptions, we would have been caught somehow.”
If it were Tyr and the Returner, they wouldn’t have reacted so tepidly. Those two are far too famous, so the Military State would have been wary of their power and issued prior warnings and countermeasures.
But we’re not them. Historia is powerful, certainly, but her power is on the scale of a single individual. Moreover, until a few days ago, she was an active soldier loyal to the Military State. If the command center has a grasp on what happened in Hamelin, they’d know that Historia isn’t acting out of hatred for the Military State, but simply following me and Sia.
I can’t know exactly how the other side will react, but I know the Military State’s ideology very well.
The Military State is rational.
This isn’t a war between nations. The country is being shaken by an attack from just a few unruly individuals. And now, with Historia siding with us and even Hilde having defected, the Military State is more vulnerable than ever.
If there’s no reason to meet, you just have to create one. As expected, even if you want to settle things with words, you have to start with force first.
Heading down roads as empty of people as possible, I cautioned everyone.
“Alright. We’re definitely headed in the right direction, but stay on guard. This is the Military State’s command center. A place where even Field Marshals—who you’d rarely see outside—are a dime a dozen. Be careful, a Hexa-Field Marshal could pop out from anywhere...”
『Air traffic control scan complete. Manifestation Rate: 97.4%.』
“Speak of the tiger and it shall appear. Guess it thinks it’s a tiger.”
A corona of light coalesced into a single point in the darkness. A holy radiance, dulling the command center’s dim floodlights, stood there, taking human form. Standing like that, it looked exactly like a shadow made of light.
A pressed-down helmet. A body whose size was impossible to gauge because of its glow. A slender, long blade of light.
Heaven’s Spear Aimedert. The guardian angel of the Military State.
And perhaps... an entity that might be the very incarnation of the command center itself.
“Everyone back!”
Historia, the first to sense its presence, turned her entire body to face it, preparing in case Aimedert attacked us.
But Aimedert did not point its blade of light at us. Instead, it stared at us silently.
A black mouth opened on its brilliant face.
『I will guide you. Follow.』
Then, without any further comment, it began sliding along the ground, as if expecting us to follow naturally.
But it seems the angel knows nothing of the human heart. Educated from childhood never to follow strangers, we disobeyed Aimedert’s command.
Historia, keeping her edge sharp, asked.
“Guide us? Where?”
Aimedert’s body stopped with a mechanical lurch. It hadn’t expected our reaction. The pure white angel turned its body again and conveyed its will.
『Did you not come all this way for the purpose of negotiation?』
“I wouldn’t call it negotiation. A conversation, maybe?”
『I shall comply. However, this frame lacks sufficient means for communication. Therefore.』
With its concise tone meant solely for providing information, and a body always replaceable. No matter how I thought about it, it strongly resembled that.
Just as expected, really.
“In short, you’re offering to guide us to the meeting place? I like your directness. Let’s go.”
『Since you have accepted, I shall guide you again. Follow.』
Aimedert turned its body again and headed somewhere.
Up until now, Aimedert had been an entity closer to a monster, swinging its sword without question or answer. It had no presence as a living being, showed no mercy in its attacks, and was strong enough to briefly contend with Tyr. The sight of such a monstrous angel casually appearing and guiding our way felt intensely alien. The princess, Sia, and even Historia didn’t know what to make of it and just looked at each other.
But there was one exception.
“Nyaaa...!”
Navi, eyes gleaming, stalking Aimedert from behind.
What is that lunatic doing? It’s going to wreck things before the meeting even starts. Stop her right now... No, it’s dangerous if I grab her.
“Azi, catch her! Hold her tight so she can’t move!”
“Woof!”
“Nya-ha-ha!”
Not yet. Not just yet. Though I did bring her along precisely in case they attack first!
We shoved the struggling Navi into the back seat and drove the auto-wagon, following behind the angel.
The angel gliding over the ground was remarkably fast and agile. Perhaps because it was made of light, it seemed to lack the concept of inertia, changing direction while maintaining its speed. It felt like if I took my eyes off it for even a moment, it would vanish from sight.
We frantically passed an arsenal piled high with shells, took a right turn at a container stacked with food supplies, and made a wide arc around the outskirts where the engineer corps’ equipment was amassed, following the angel. The image of an angel—a symbol of holiness—strutting through a land of steel and concrete looked like two clashing pictures forced together.
“...Something feels strange.”
As we proceeded, the princess suddenly murmured, looking around.
“Why... is there no one else in sight at the command base?”
Subjectively, it felt like half a day had passed, but we had been following Aimedert for barely ten minutes.
Yet, this was the command base. A military capital where the Military State’s forces are stationed, with more officers underfoot than stray pebbles.
That also meant the place was so meticulously managed that it was hard to find even a stray pebble rolling around. No matter how well we might have disguised ourselves, we couldn’t possibly pass through so easily...
Unless someone had planned it.
I glanced around sidelong and said.
“Seems the command center doesn’t want to be seen meeting with us. They’re clearing people out. Listen. Even just beyond here, you can hear the clamor of soldiers working, right?”
“Why? We’re only a small group. Wouldn’t it be better for them to gather in numbers and apply pressure?”
“Not necessarily. Right now, the Military State is on the verge of negotiating with terrorists. From a nation’s standpoint, displaying such a humiliating negotiation process to a mere soldier could crush morale.”
The Military State is rational, but it doesn’t believe everyone else is. That’s why they restrict information and control the actions of officers and field marshals alike.
The princess nodded in understanding, then posed a new question.
“How could they clear people exactly from the path we were taking?”
“They probably used signal officers.”
Historia provided the answer.
“Soldiers give absolute obedience to the command center’s orders, and signal officers relay the command center’s orders. This route we’re on... the signal officers are probably individually ordering any approaching soldiers to stay away from this area.”
“Ah, right. The signal officers... Then, are the signal officers the command center?”
“Just because a priest delivers God’s word doesn’t mean the priest is God.”
“But the command center isn’t a god, is it? Someone could seize control of the signal officers, or a signal officer could distort the command center’s will for their own greed, couldn’t they? Why doesn’t anyone suspect that?”
It was a question that hit a blind spot precisely. But Historia had an answer for it.
“Signal officers don’t do that. No, they can’t. Because they don’t exist.”
“What do you mean? Signal officers do exist.”
“No one has ever seen them. There are people who’ve guided signal officers dispatched on occasion, but they have no idea where they go or what they do. How could beings who don’t even appear before your eyes harbor any greed?”
There are too many examples of corrupt priests to count. Priests interact with believers daily, extracting faith and donations from them, so if they have greed, the ways they can cause harm are endless.
But signal officers never come into contact with anyone. In a world completely isolated from human affairs, they communicate only in a limited way through golems.
At this point, they’re not even priests; they’re just God’s heralds. Tools for transmitting a voice, nothing more.
“No one knows what signal officers do? Even you, General, a Hexa-Field Marshal, don’t know?”
At the princess’s question, Historia hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Yeah... Even me, a Hexa-Field Marshal.”
As if her mood had suddenly soured, Historia turned her head sharply and closed her mouth.
‘Right. I don’t know anything. I was loyal to the Military State to help my friend, but I know neither my friend nor the Military State. In the end... am I just a well-wielded tool, used without knowing anything?’
Once a member of the command center, Historia silently watched the passing scenery, lost in doubt.
The auto-wagon rolled on in uncomfortable silence.
『We have arrived.』
At last, Aimedert halted before a massive wall.
It was a sleek wall without seams. No windows, no doors, not even a small ventilation duct was visible. Its appearance was more fitting for a box than a building.
I’d seen it before. When Tantalos flipped the ground inside out, a dented little steel box had popped out of the earth. It looked just like that, except it was several times larger.
Eimedere raised the white sword and, without the slightest hesitation, thrust it into the wall.
Historia silently watched Eimedere.
*There was a gap. A very fine one. She slid the blade into it with not even a hair’s breadth of error.*
The seamless appearance had been my mistake. The pure white sword slipped into an invisible, microscopic gap. To my eyes, it looked as if she had simply pierced the wall, but Historia’s keen eyes had caught the existence of that crevice.
Thanks to that, I read her thought and learned the truth. Phew. I almost embarrassed myself by pretending to know.
“She’s cutting through the wall! A steel wall, like cutting tofu!”
Uh-huh. There’s another one whose eyes aren’t so sharp. Tsk, tsk. Let me open your ignorant eyes.
“Look, there’s a tiny gap between the walls. She’s inserting the sword of light into that gap.”
“Huh? A gap? Uh, uh, I think I see it…?”
There’s only one reason to stick a sword into a box’s gap. To open a door.
Historia only saw the gap, but I, having cracked open safes more times than I can count, could roughly guess the structure of this building.
“A gap that only something like light can slip through. There’s probably a locking bolt inside. She’ll unlock the bolt inside with that light sword to open the door.”
Just as I said, Eimedere slid the sword into the crevice and pushed it upward. With a clank, something came loose.
Immediately, light poured from the fine gap in the wall.
Grrrrrrrk.
The tightly shut wall split apart. The sound of wound gears turning echoed along the wall, and the square door retracted inward.
Eimedere, having fulfilled her role as a key, stood still. Without even the faintest tremor that any living being must have, she was like an inanimate object that had guarded that spot for hundreds of years.
Right. So Eimedere was the key. A windowless room that could never be entered unless broken. How the signal corps got in and locked it...
“And, there probably isn’t another being besides Eimedere who wields a sword of light. A door that only Eimedere, the angel of the Military State, can open. What does that mean?”
“That the ones inside are those who summon or control Eimedere…?”
Correct. The princess is a partner worth asking questions of, as always.
Eimedere spoke in a resonant voice.
*“Enter.”*
“Can we all go in?”
*“It does not matter.”*
Then, as if she had become the door herself, she twisted her body diagonally to make an opening for us to pass through. I first let Nabi, who was still reaching for Eimedere, and Aji, who was holding Nabi tightly in both arms, enter. Then I gestured to the princess and Siati.
After sending in those two beasts who might cause trouble at any moment, I strode inside as well. One of the Military State’s greatest secrets was now revealing its innermost depths to me of its own accord.
Passing through the narrow gap, I found myself in a bizarre space.
There was a large round table covered in paper. Countless sheets lay spread across the table, and the walls on all sides looked as if they’d been papered with torn book pages. Innumerable tiny letters were written on them, every one a document containing the Military State’s classified information.
Piles of documents. A vast amount of information within. In itself, it was just a chaotic jumble of letters, but to someone with the relevant knowledge, it held immense value.
And the beings that created that value.
*“E request. Supply quantity adjustment required due to the destruction of the Alchemical Steel Refinery.”*
*“Inventory 89,400 units. Estimated sustainment period 38 days. Thereafter, stock completely exhausted.”*
*“Requested production increase 3,200. Current state achievability 0.72%.”*
*“Value judgment necessary. To be placed on the meeting agenda.”*
Dozens of communication magic golems.
It felt like stepping into a toy kingdom. To maximize the occupancy rate? All the magic golems here were small or ultra-small. Some were palm-sized, and even the largest came no higher than waist-height.
A variety of tiny magic golems scurried busily in all directions, reading letters and taking dictation. There were golems deftly manipulating their fingers to write, golems tapping away on a golem typewriter, and golems pressing their heads to a loudspeaker and shouting something. None of the golems resembled a human, which made them all the more fairytale-like and charming.
When Nabi, having discovered a toy, tried to lunge for it, Aji desperately held her back. Right. A king of beasts needs two. Nabi to raise a ruckus, and Aji to stop her when she gets excited.
While the two beasts were stamping the ground, I spotted a door in the far wall.
Steel doors were spaced at regular intervals. The spacing was narrow. If I stretched out both arms, I could reach from one door to the next. There were one, two... twenty-six such doors.
They clearly weren’t used often. Otherwise, there’d be no reason for papers to be piled so high in front of them.
I read the small nameplate above the row of doors.
*“Inner Circle Command Direct Communication Headquarters. Module I.”*