Chapter 580 - Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint

Click, click, click, click. The gear-driven wheelchair smoothly traversed the wooden corridor. Small elevations were easily overcome with the gears, and as inclines changed, the gears adjusted to maintain balance. It's more than just a simple wheelchair. As I maneuvered the gifted wheelchair, I muttered to myself. "These gears..." "It must be that person. you know, Field Marshal Maximilien." The Regressive Mage grimaced. Field Marshal of the Military's Six Grand Generals, Maximilien. And a leader of the secret society, the master of gears. The mage thought back on old memories and clicked his tongue. "Master of all things.... Tch. Being in this place called the Tree of Blasphemy just makes my mood worse." "Have you ever been in a good mood?" "What did you say?" The Regressive Mage shot a piercing glare at me. After downing an entire bowl of elixir, it seemed his spirits had lifted. Medication is indeed powerful when you're unwell. "Well, what can you do. A prisoner has to feel bad, right? But Shei, why are you going alone?" "What? What are you talking about? You're the one pushing. How can I move by myself when I can't use my arms?" "But I'm not pushing the wheelchair right now." "Huh? I'm moving, though?" Exactly. I'm not pushing, yet you're moving. I stared, dumbfounded, at the wheelchair moving away, then snapped back to my senses and gave chase. The wheelchair was moving all by itself, without any power source! "Shei! Go slowly! Trying to speed up might get your life sped up!" "I'm doing nothing!" The wheelchair carrying the Regressive Mage maneuvered its way along, finding its path. Hastily, I followed behind. I turned the corner to catch up and entered a wide room. [Ack! You're here!] There to greet us was a parrot with vibrant red feathers. "Welcome! I've been expecting you!" And just as expected, Field Marshal Maximilien of the military was there. He, who could manipulate gears within his domain, had brought the mage's gear-crafted wheelchair before him and began to inspect it. "So you're here! I heard you lost an arm; did you reattach it? Such a waste! If you’d entrusted it to me, I could've fitted you with a far more robust, systematic, sustainable gear prosthetic!" "Field… Marshal…!" "How about it? Wouldn't you like to detach and reattach it now? I'd be happy to teach you how it works! You'll find it much more durable than that arm of yours!" He drew out a gear-driven saw from beneath his cloak, its sharp blade whirring with a menacing sound. Maximilien, even more so than Nevida in being headstrong, genuinely intended to carve off the mage's arm with his well-meaning offer. As the sawblade seemed poised to sever the mage's shoulder, I quickly intervened. "Oh no. How hard do you think I worked to fix that arm, and you just plan to cut it without permission?" Thud. My hand, caught in the blade, spewed blood for a moment, but then, as all that spurted blood flowed back into my hand, the sawblade abruptly halted as if caught on something. Unique magic: hijacking. I stopped Maximilien's unique magic, halting the blade's rotation. Observing the motionless blade, Maximilien smiled as if he'd been expecting it. "King of humans. It's been a while. First time since you and Director Historia tore me apart?" "If it weren't for Nevida, that would’ve been our last meeting. What a shame." "Thanks to that, I had to replace even more of my body with gears. It was quite a challenge!" "You always wanted to replace the human body with gears, though? Seems like you got your wish." At my cold retort, Maximilien inquired further. "Wish? I wanted to replace the king of humans." "The human king represents humanity. If you change him, eventually you'll change humanity, and that change would happen through me, right? But altering me doesn't alter humans. What you did was no different from skewing a graph." "Ha ha ha ha! Is that how it is? Ah, I kind of get it now!" Whether he's bold or just insane, the hearty laughter continues as Maximilien pointed a gear toward me and spoke. "So what’s your take? I heard you’re now possessed by a demon. Ever thought of testing gears, just out of pure curiosity?" "No, thank you." "Won't accept the gears? That's quite strict with me." "And it’s not possible. My body’s already possessed by a demon." After coldly dismissing Maximilien, I placed my hand on the Regressive Mage's wheelchair. Maximilien's unique magic, Gear Maiden, manipulates all gears within its range. In simple terms, if it’s not a gear, he can’t control it. I grasped a gear firmly and released it. Metal once resembling a gear cascade to the ground as cards. "Oh. What's that?" Ignoring Maximilien's curious gaze, I spoke to the parrot. "I wasn't told there'd be an auditor, Archwitch." [I wasn't told either! Ack! That one insisted on seeing you! Always meddling!] The parrot shot a displeased look at Maximilien, who nonchalantly replied. "What’s the harm? Let’s not be too hard on us fellow failures." [Ack? Failures?] "Aren't we both stragglers who failed to reach the demon? Shouldn't we put our heads together and pool our strength to reach it? Why monopolize the opportunity to converse with the king of humans?" [Ack ack! I'm different from you! I contributed greatly to creating the Tree of Origin!] "If that were so, wouldn’t you have become the demon? Yet it was the Founder who did, not you." The moment Maximilien nonchalantly mentioned Tyrkanzyaka, an odd scent of blood lingered in the air. The parrot twisted its neck, glaring fiercely at Maximilien. [Don't… mention Tyrkanzyaka… in front of me...] "Emotional responses are unwise. The Founder recently became a demon. Naturally, it's a case that deserves analysis, no?" Between the parrot's parted beak, something was visible as it vented its fury. It was no illusion. Deep within the parrot's throat, something wriggled upward. It was a slender, porcelain-white finger. The index finger jutted out and forcibly wrenched open the beak. The parrot's beak stretched wide as if it were about to tear. From that gap, the delicate finger pointed directly at Maximilien. [Shut up!] Where the finger pointed, Maximilien's chest dented, as if pressed by an invisible fingertip. Above his heart, a spiral of blood swirled. A heart-striking blast—black magic of a kind I could scarcely imagine. Though typically a curse, some of the darkest, most potent black magic can indeed exert raw force. This absurd power of curse pierced Maximilien's heart. It was a blow too fatal to be considered a mere jest. Yet, the fundamental principle of black magic is similarity, and Maximilien's body had long diverged from the norm. Rattle. A flurry of tiny gears fell from Maximilien's chest. He frowned and voiced his displeasure. "What is this? Stop it. I just finished repairs." Maximilien, who had replaced extensive portions of his body with gears, withstood the dire black magic unfazed. There was an impact, but that was all. The gears rhythmically pulsed as before. A voice seeped from the parrot, tinged with irritation. [So even your heart is made of gears now? Is there any part of you that’s still human?] "It's not that I've replaced the heart. I've merely altered it so that gears perform the heart’s functions." [That's just the same thing.] "It's different. I've merely focused more on function over form in the human body. You, who place belief in that Blind Clockmaker of the Tree of Origin, may not be pleased. But isn't everything about tuning touched by a clockmaker’s hand?" The fallen gears spun and returned to his feet. Maximilien reattached them to his frame. "You are quite knowledgeable about the Tree of Origin, Archwitch, but as one of the leaders of the master planners, I've seen and learned much as well. It was so evident that the Tree of Origin, that precursor principle that created humans, is just a haphazard attempt by a Blind Clockmaker. The Tree of Origin didn’t intentionally make humans. The human body is fraught with limitations, fragile and inefficient." Pausing, Maximilien then turned to me. "King of Humans. Am I wrong?" "Nope. You're right. This body wasn’t crafted intentionally by any god." An obvious truth. Maximilien is correct. Upon reflection, it's clear to see. "Then why do you not accept gears? Just a sincere query." YW9peUx5cktZYXhyU2hzY1VsMkQ0V3dDWFdPclRkRzZ1UG1xRnByOGdLektlazVZMFNVNDFmU0hlbHI0bDV2aA Why indeed. It's just the obvious, as I wheeled the mage toward a table and replied. "It's normal for the world not to go your way, Maximilien. That’s exactly why you haven't become a demon." [Ack, ack, ack! Serves you right! Ack!] The parrot clutched its belly, laughing, while doubt shaded Maximilien’s expression. "What does that mean?" "It means just that. The world doesn't cater to our convenience in the first place. Seeking the most efficient and rational method—that’s adapting to the laws of the world, not creating them. You're swapping the sequence, judging it all wrong." A demon is a law of the world. But don’t confuse it with a nation’s laws. Unlike nations created by humans, for humans, the world simply exists. "The problem is you're trying to create rules that conform to existing ones. Doing so only leads to complications because you end up endlessly going in circles." I'm not a demon either, but of all creatures, only humans have reached the realm of demons, and thanks to that, I deal with them. I understand, conceptually at least, what a demon is. It feels like giving a lecture again. With the parrot and a gear puppet before me, I began my explanation.