Soul of Searing Steel

“This is the entrance. Apologies, but we can go no further, please complete the remainder of your journey alone.”

At the center of the Court Dome, various Void warships were led by the Imperial Guards to a passage to the audience chamber. In turn, the guards themselves watched enviously and reverently as the heroes who had slain Ultimate Entities answered the Imperator’s summons and slowly entered the inner circle shrouded in the halation of the nebula.

“An audience with the Imperator…” they sighed emotionally, watching as their shadow dissolved into the nebula. “When will we have our turn?”

No one heard the mutterings of the guards.

***

After passing through the corona arch and entering the inner circle chamber forged from the nebula, the heroes ascended a flight of rainbow stairs of countless steps. It was an accelerating corridor crafted from near-solid magical energy, with its visible section already hundreds of kilometers in length—the inner circle of Court was so huge that it resembled a dream.

Without any exertion, surging ether pushed Elma and Creed rapidly ahead, and the journey ended in thirty minutes when they arrived on top of a shining pure white platform.

It appeared narrow above and progressively wider below, standing over thousands of kilometers high and would certainly have been a building that broke through the sky if placed on a planet. However, since it was situated at the Court Dome beside the clone of Imperator Amos, the transcendently profound platform appeared no greater than a needle and was almost negligible.

At the top of the platform was a densely inscribed runic formation spanning a seven-kilometer radius. It activated when Elma entered, creating a smooth semi-spherical energy shield. In reality, it was all not a waste of time for that journey here, since it was a measure that prevented the other Amoses from harm when they approached the Imperator.

If it had not been implemented, no being below Legend could approach the Imperator, much less commune with him.

“So, do we wait here?”

Watching as Elma arrived at the center of the runes and preparing himself for the brunt of the blow that would come, the human captain nervously conveyed his doubt because everything was not as he had imagined.

He had thought that he and Elma would arrive in a hall and await the divine will of the Imperator Amos’s clone to descend upon them, just like how regional officials had their audience with emperors. Now, however, he reflected that Amos were not humans but genuine alien lifeforms with countless galaxies separating them—their culture, norms or even life habits are completely different from humankind, and the reason he could easily interact with Elma was because she was a special case amongst her race.

For the race that once ruled mountains and determined superiority with the height of their own mountains, the most distinct platforms had to be built for an audience with a superior being. That would allow the champion who stood above to see themselves without the trouble of lowering their heads.

The powerful would not lower their heads to look upon the weak. They would only commune with those they see.

Such was Amos culture.

Nonetheless, Elma did not respond to Creed’s question—for ‘He’ had come.

***

Above the platform, obscure nebula mist was stirring as a massive swirl of golden air appeared. Stretching over 15,000 kilometers with a distinct gap in between several few thousand kilometers, it resembled a titanic living eye.

Then, as the eye that could have consumed an entire planet manifested, a powerful presence filled the chamber. The semi-spherical energy barrier on the platform began to crackle with faint silver bolts sparkling over it, as if it was repelling some extremely powerful attack. It caused the entire platform to actually shake as well, but neither Creed nor Elma felt that presence thanks to the barrier’s protection, merely taking everything in dryly and not daring to even breathe too loudly.

The giant eye then swiveled and slowly riveted its gaze to the platform, which was dwarfed like a vertical needle despite being thousands of kilometers in height, although it was almost ‘commendable’.

“Elma—General Use Individual No. 19090763.”

As the giant eye stared at the translucent Void warship at the center of the platform, suffocating spiritual oppressiveness instantly surged like a tidal wave into Elma’s spirit realm. If not for her spiritual protection buffs, Elma imagined that her soul would have promptly been severely hurt, although she could barely hear the message embedded in the spiritual surge even with that protection.

“Thought Individual, General Use Individual, Combat Individual…an excellent resume. You are an outstanding Amos who could have been made General if not for your idleness in recent years.”

Meanwhile, the giant eye conveyed its information flatly without any color of emotion, as if it were a human revealing data about an ant’s growth to the insect itself. However, there was a hint of perplexity as the message continued, “Well done, you have slain an Ultimate Entity in the Assembly Area and protected many Thought Individuals as they retreated to safety. However, the fusion evolution of that specimen would have reached General-class, becoming capable of feeding on planets and surviving supernova eruptions.”

“It is truly unusual, Elma—you should have been incapable of defeating it with your ability even if it has been maimed, and you certainly should not have won so easily unless it was brain dead and you had burst out with power far beyond your usual level. There is no chance of you winning with your own power.”

The giant eye swiveled again, staring at the center of the platform. “I can feel it. There is the scent of a Mycroftian on you…ah, and there is even a youngling. So, has his hand extended here too?”

Creed gulped nervously, even instinctively touching his belt, but the excessive tension left him so dry-mouthed that he could only belch. The sheer presence of the eye was simply horrific, and though the Commander and the Seven Gods were equal formidable or perhaps superior, they often did their best to reduce that force in the presence of mortals.

Nonetheless, Creed’s feet did not soften despite realizing that Imperator Amos had sensed Joshua’s work, because he would not be able to run if it did. Still, could he really escape even with a dozen more pairs of feet? Having listened to Elma’s explanations and analysis beforehand, along with the fact that neither of them had the chance to avoid the audience, Creed suppressed the unsettling sensation in his heart and stayed silent inside Elma’s body.

On the other hand, the Golden Stormeye—the Imperator’s clone—did not say much about it, and flatly said, “Elma, do relay this to the Mycroftian: only cowards play tricks, and I would welcome him with open arms if he would lead his fleet to attack my world, for I am eager to fight him once again.”

Creed sighed in relief—for some reason, the Imperator was not as callous and bloodthirsty as he had imagined, even overlooking the matter itself.

As for Elma, she blanked out for a moment before understanding the Imperator’s reaction.

Would you be angry if an ant from your hive was lured astray by the candy of another human?

Certainly not. Regardless of the profit or whatever machinations involved, it would be merely an ant, and it was trivial even if the other human gained details about the ant hives. The ant could be abandoned at worst, and he should be enraged at the other human and not the ant.

Moreover, the candy itself granted the ant great strength to cull the parasite from one of the hives—what was there to be upset about? He could do with more candy ants, and should even thank the alien friend’s selfless aid.

A thought that could not be simpler, and yet it left others even more upset and angry.

For a traitor, what value does her treachery hold if the act of betrayal itself does not even incur a hint of pain upon the betrayed? Even if she had already deduced the mindset of her Imperator, Elma still feel humiliated.

Betrayal? Are the weak even deserving of such a word?

That bewilderment, humiliation, rage, dissatisfaction that accumulated over decades flashed through Elma’s mind in that instant. The cause of it all was her own helplessness, and she would rather Imperator Amos killed her than to be neglected.

Perhaps she would only be valued if she reached the level of Creed’s Mycroftian Commander, even having him send a clone to recon and fight in a fit of rage and other emotions.

Nonetheless, the Golden Stormeye remained unconcerned about Elma’s emotions—he may have noticed, but it counted for nothing, even appearing slightly interesting. Either way, after having determined that Joshua’s power was linked to Elma, the Imperator nonchalantly said, “Whether it was your power, you did slay one Ultimate Entity and that is a meaningful feat worth rewarding. Speak, what do you wish for?”

It was a generous offer of a wish. “I can grant it as long as it does not clash with another’s wish.”

Elma’s mouth opened; her Void warship form quivered.

“Why…”

The time had finally come.

She had finally come face-to-face with the Imperator, a wish she held for a long time hence fulfilled.

Even if it was a separate consciousness from a clone, even if he never truly saw her with his own eyes, Elma felt immeasurably nervous…which was why she said bitterly, flatly and quietly, “Imperator, why did you not act and cull the Ultimate Virus?”

The Golden Stormeye turned, as if having heard something fascinating.

In turn, Elma lifted her gaze at that very moment, directing all her senses up high to level her gaze at the Golden Stormeye, her tone returning normal. “Imperator, the Ultimate Virus had rampaged across hundreds of worlds or perhaps more, and from what I know so far, billions of Amoses have died in less than three days.”

“I…I sensed that the otherworld champion’s power could expel the Ultimate Virus and stop it from spreading, and witnessed it in action in fringe systems as it really culled all Ultimate Virus around…O great king, surely you could do that too? If you so wished, the Ultimate Virus within our borders would be swept away—even champions of other worlds would never compare!”

There was agitation in Elma’s speech, and she would have been clenching a fist if she had a hand. In fact, Creed could even feel from inside her body that Elma had detached herself from life and death, and simply did not deny Joshua’s hand.

But such agitation was pointless.

“Clearing the Ultimate Virus…is that your wish?”

There was serenity conveyed from the Golden Stormeye. “A little greedy, Elma, but that appetite of yours is amusing.”

“Alright, I shall grant it.”

***

It was a quick promise that left Elma unable to react at once. The tentacles of the Void warship hovered blankly in the air as if she had not heard it clearly.

Soon, however, the Golden Stormeye transmitted another message that appeared regrettable.

“I had initially wanted to see how many in the Court had what it takes for ultimate growth, since the voice revealed something interesting… last hope? If this is not a critical juncture, I would really like to witness it.”

Meanwhile, Elma was still in a quagmire.

The Imperator…has acceded? 

So easily, without resistance, and with almost no hesitation?

He could do it! He could really do it! Unlike her doubt of the Imperator’s ability, it was a simple task for him!

He really could put thoughts to action, and he had simply left the Virus and Entities unchecked… just because he could not be bothered!

It was the last straw that left Elma with overflowing distress.

“No, Imperator… why?”

She dreamily and bewilderedly questioned the Golden Stormeye, which appeared about to vanish. “You clearly could have done it… so why had you not purged the Ultimate Virus early on, but allowed billions of Amos to die senselessly instead?”

She remembered the plagued lands and the withered bones which were consumed cleanly. There had been researchers, fighters, and ordinary citizens—some had children and were carrying the next generation, or diligently working for the Court.

They all had families, lives, work, friendship, and their individualities. They may have held narrow or grand desires and ambitions, along with hope and expectations of the future.

Nevertheless, all of them fell yesterday and today, no longer able to see tomorrow.

“All of them are your subject, Amoses who revered and worshipped you!”

***

The Golden Stormeye paused then, swirling as it studied the agitated Elma with interest, just like watching a butterfly flapping its wings.

“It claims that this is the last world, that a great disaster would come and cut off the path to the Root.”

The giant eye seemed to be talking to itself, showing no emotional shift despite Elma’s questioning. “I feel that your destruction is assured if even that voice believes that the upcoming event is a disaster. If that is the case, being infected is simply an earlier death, not to mention that a few interesting Ultimate Entities would come.”

“Moreover, the Ultimate Virus is completely ineffective against Commander-class. It would incidentally cull the weak without any action from myself…I find it very convenient.”

It was a rather deigning response, as if humans pausing for a moment when encountering a butterfly in his path and watching it float around for a moment. “By the way, that Ultimate Entity you’ve slain was one of the more threatening ones,” the Imperator’s separate consciousness then laughed. “If it had not been severely injured by the supernova, it would have quickly left to absorb stellar substance and evolved to become a planet eater. Not many Ultimate Entities of such level exist across the Court, and I had actually wanted to see if the spreading plague would see the birth of an existence beyond planet eaters.”

The mirth of curiosity and profound apathy left Elma breathless for an instant.

She finally realized that the Imperator’s nature was probably viler than she had imagined.

“Could the existence of the Amoses be a mere tool that satisfies your curiosity and amusement?” Elma muttered, feeling her organs spasming in rejection of that reality. “And the trillions of citizens are but a number…”

“What else could they be?”

The Golden Stormeye was puzzled, but continued after thinking for a moment, “Of course, it is not that bad. All of you are alive and I quite like each of you, especially interesting ones such as you. Though there are rarely any special Amos individuals, one or two would occasionally come to be.”

“Even so, truth be told, apart from interesting specimens such as you, the other Amoses hold no value.”

Whether in benevolence or cruelty, the giant eye laughed. “Any one of my clones could create over billions of Amoses instantly, and trillions would not pose a problem either—it would be easy, and take less than the mass of a planet. By the way, your ancestors are Amos individuals I have created, and because they are perfect unlike their predecessors, it has been some time since I’ve remolded an entire generation.”

Noticing that Elma seemed to have something to say, the great golden eye easily read her thoughts.

“Those Amoses before? Ah. Too ugly, so they were destroyed.”