Chapter 231: Representative of The Goddess |
● Stage 1: Denial.
“No, this has to be Evil God-chan’s prank. Right, Tower Master? That twisted Evil God-chan is just trying to mess with me, right?”
“Wait… there’s actually a person inside the illusion?!”
● Stage 2: Anger.
“This damn coding has never worked the way I wanted! Last time, there was a bug where NPC hair models started flying all over the place—now how did this happen⋯⋯?”
“There was a bug like that⋯⋯?”
● Stage 3: Bargaining.
“Oh Goddess, if you don’t put an end to this sick joke, I swear I will kill you.”
“⋯⋯Weren’t you planning to take control anyway?”
● Stage 4: Depression.
“Then… all this time⋯⋯ have I been ruthlessly sacrificing beings who can actually think and feel? What’s the difference between me and the Evil God now?”
“⋯⋯They only gain self-awareness after the session!”
And then—
“Bugs are life. Because no matter where I go, they’re always by my side⋯⋯. It’s a fate I can’t escape even after being reincarnated into another world.”
Finally, I reached Stage 5: Acceptance.
===============================================================
Alright. Let’s stay calm.
Really—let’s not panic. There’s no reason to lose my mind over this.
So what if a personality was born from a mere collection of datan⋯⋯?
Sure, it was shocking. Fascinating, even. But if I thought about it rationally, this wasn’t some catastrophic event that would turn the world upside down or make the Imperial Family faint. Because fantasy and modernity worked differently.
If an AI with self-awareness emerged in the modern world, that would be an entirely different problem. Evil AIs spreading through communication networks⋯⋯wouldn’t that literally become the opening of a dystopian movie?
But Illusion Magic wasn’t the same. The means to escape the simulation and affect the real world were extremely limited. Even if an illusion gained a personality, it wouldn’t suddenly power up.
In fact, the ones without personalities were stronger—for now. Since most of my combat efficiency relied on my high-performance brain, emotionless holograms that obeyed orders with 100% precision were far stronger.
Of course, the future potential of my Illusion Magic if I could develop it was boundless.
If NPCs could evolve into independent informational lifeforms—like Succubi—this would no longer just be illusion magic. It would be Creation Magic. I could literally create an entire species!
And maybe—just maybe—if I could create souls, then even constructing something as insane as a Metamorphosis Army wouldn’t be just a dream.
But that’s still far off.
For now, all that had happened was that characters from a story had come to life. That was all it meant.
However⋯⋯.
I felt happy.
A strange, deep happiness that I couldn’t quite put into words. Once the shock of suddenly having a child disappeared, what remained—filtered through the sieve of realization—was a quiet, shimmering joy.
And I knew exactly why.
My story—would continue on.
Usually, when a session ended, a lingering regret settled in—an afterimage of what once was. Because every story had an ending.
But now, if the story had taken a single step into the realm of life—if it could continue moving forward even without my guidance—
Then I could give it.
Perhaps, I could offer my beloved players a wonderful story that would continue⋯⋯ until the very final moments of their life.
There was no need to dismiss it as just Illusion Magic.
“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”
“⋯⋯Gulp.”
I understood now. Completely. I knew exactly what needed to be done.
Turning to Yuna—who was trembling and swallowing nervously—I spoke.
“Let’s activate Project Pure Love.”
“⋯⋯⋯⋯!!”
If you wish for it, I will make it come true.
===============================================================
First, I meticulously crafted a hologram for Centra. I reinforced its durability and embedded a stable long-distance communication device so that Centra, from within the Academy, could control it remotely.
After pouring in three entire bottles of the expensive magic reagent mixture I always kept with me, the preparations were complete. Centra’s small body shuddered slightly before opening her eyes—without any input from me.
She carefully flexed her fingers, testing her movement, before looking up at me with large eyes filled with excitement.
“⋯⋯Creator, have I received a body?”
“Not yet. But one day, you will. Listen carefully—this temporary body will only function until midnight. There are a lot of evil fucking bastards in the Holy City, so I had no choice but to prioritize stability over duration. And—“
I relayed several key instructions to Centra—guidelines to avoid disrupting Irid’s dream, recommended dating spots in Trumpethall, and one crucial bit of foreshadowing: she was only to use open-air routes without roofs or cover for about thirty minutes after meeting Irid.
After I transferred all the necessary knowledge, Centra hesitated slightly and asked me. I could read the confusion of a sentient being in her eyes. She really was freshly alive.
“Am I allowed to meet Irid?”
“As much as time allows. I’ll send Irid to your side, and after that⋯⋯ do as you please. Do what you want, enjoy life. Now, follow the Tower Master!”
Clap clap. I clapped twice and pointed at Yuna, who had been loitering nearby.
Centra bowed to me, then disappeared into the alley, following Yuna. As I glanced at the ground where she had stood, I noticed small droplets of joyful tears dampening the dirt.
It seemed both the emotion-display function and pseudo-body fluid systems were functioning properly. Even her saliva would probably feel convincingly real if she opened her mouth.
Why hide it? Even if they couldn’t go all the way, I had designed the body with the intent of letting them kiss as much as they wanted. The lips—texture, responsiveness, and structure—had been meticulously crafted based on extensive data gathered from the Succubus.
Yes, among the vast troves of information extracted from the exploded Succubus Queen⋯⋯ there had been tremendous amounts of data related to this. Even my one remaining weakness had now been conquered.
Now, what was left for me to do?
Process the probability and tie up the loose ends. After tossing Irid toward Centra, I’d solidify my cooperative relationship with the Grand Duke of the North.
With Centra’s existence established as a separate entity, there was no longer a need to fabricate a parallel universe excuse or destined partings or go through any tedious long-winded explanations. Everything could be handled.
There was no need to create a fake identity called ‘Love’ and pretend to be blindfolded. If Centra and Heart were distinct, then there was no problem even if Love was just Heart.
I peeked slightly toward the bakery.
Roughly thirty minutes had passed since I had fled in shock from the AI revival incident, yet the Grand Duke of the North and Irid were still sitting gloomily at the same spot.
I wiggled my fingers, weaving Illusion Magic. The distinct twang of a rope gun being fired echoed in the air, followed by the sound of running footsteps. There was an immediate reaction. Irid shot up from his seat.
I let a glimpse of Centra’s swaying hair flash around the corner before disappearing from sight.
“⋯⋯I shall take my leave. Something urgent has come up.”
“I won’t stop you. Spare me the excuses—just disappear from my sight.”
“And think carefully before having a child. I will not allow it until I’ve sorted out my thoughts.”
“I do hope your urgent business involves seeing a Priest for a diagnosis.”
With that, I shooed Irid off the stage. That part of the story now belonged to Centra.
And as if swapping roles, I entered the bakery. It was time to wrap up the story.
As I stepped inside, the Grand Duke of the North’s gaze locked onto me. I awkwardly cleared my throat.
“Um, did you wait long⋯⋯?”
“Heart, what happened? If there is anything I can help with, please tell me.”
“Something urgent came up. I wanted to enjoy our reunion properly, but⋯⋯ but I guess life doesn’t always go as planned, does it? ‘Daisy’.”
At the mention of that name, a subtle shift passed over the Grand Duke’s expression. He had read something between the lines. And I did not deny the name Heart.
It was my way of acknowledging this reunion.
===============================================================
There was no way he wouldn’t recognize her.
How could he forget those gestures, that voice? While the woman of illusion might be able to erase her own traces— she could never erase herself from Elvillion Julius’s mind.
People need to have conversations with other people──.
Heart’s words were true.
Her conversations had seeped deep into Elvillion Julius’s soul, leaving a lingering imprint—like a delicate bloom of spring nestled in the heart of a frozen winter.
The Grand Duke of the North had quietly nurtured that fragment of warmth over the years. To him, it was more than a memory—it was faith.
So, even though Heart’s appearance in the Holy City was noticeably different, he recognized her instantly. Because the spring within him stirred violently in response.
“Its Lo-ve, not Heart.”
Though she denied it using an awkward fake name.
Heart had always been mischievous. She had a devilish side to her—a tendency to surprise, to shake people’s hearts, and then laugh at the aftermath. No matter how much time had passed, that part of her wouldn’t have changed.
So, this also had to be just another one of her pranks.
So, he played along.
Even when that mad Second Prince got involved, he could accept it—if it was Heart’s doing. After all, she had made many men cry before. Why should an Imperial Prince be any different?
⋯⋯No, but calling him father-in-law was…
Wasn’t that going a bit too far?
But when Heart left and returned⋯⋯ something had changed. Second Prince Irid didn’t seem to notice her emotional change, but the Grand Duke of the North could tell.
“Um, did you wait long⋯⋯?”
Behind her well-crafted performance, Elvillion Julius could see it—she was laughing inside, thoroughly enjoying herself.
So, while outwardly maintaining concern to match her act, inwardly, he felt relieved. And he asked.
“Heart, what happened? If there is anything I can help with, please tell me.”
“Something urgent came up. I wanted to enjoy our reunion properly, but⋯⋯ but I guess life doesn’t always go as planned, does it? ‘Daisy’.”
And the answer he received—
Was delightful.
Heart discarded the pretense of her false name and acknowledged herself.
He had no idea what had happened during those thirty minutes. But whatever ‘incident’ had taken place, it had allowed her to return as Heart.
And if that was the case…
Then it was time to bring out a small, long-forgotten promise.
Elvillion Julius reached into his coat and pulled out an old handkerchief, carefully placing it on the table. On it was a clumsily drawn symbol of the Goddess. A symbol Heart had drawn herself.
“Do you remember? You once told me, ‘You need to be more honest with yourself.’ We agreed that whoever lied before this token of promise would be punished.”
“⋯⋯You’ve kept this all this time? It’s been so long.”
“I have always carried it with me. Which means… from the moment we reunited, we have been standing before this promise.”
“Oh my, then it seems it’s my turn to be punished⋯⋯ Shall I tell you the secret that ‘Daisy’ is most curious about? That is what you want, isn’t it?”
She stared at the handkerchief in surprise for a moment, then smiled like a snake. And she accurately pinpointed what Grand Duke of the North wanted.
Heart never broke a promise.
“I heard you searched for me endlessly. But you never found even the faintest trace⋯⋯ right?”
“That’s correct.”
“It was only natural. You couldn’t have found me. At that time⋯⋯ I was in the celestial palace high above the skies, seated beside the Goddess.”
“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”
Let me show you something interesting.
She spoke—and snapped her fingers.
『Cogwheel : ClearWeather_Fixed_ver.2_Final』.
The spell activated.
A genius wizard’s technique—rewriting the very sky itself.
Dark clouds abruptly rolled in, swallowing the once clear and bright sky.
Sswaaaaa──!!
And then—
A downpour, heavy enough to wash the world away, lasting for exactly ten seconds.
Moments later, as if it had never happened, the sky cleared. The sun shone down as though the rain had been nothing more than a fleeting illusion. Only the damp ground and the grumbling voices of passersby remained as proof that it was real.
The Holy City of Trumpethall was safeguarded under the Goddess’s divine authority. Even the greatest archmages of the Red or Blue Magic Towers might have been able to conjure a brief drizzle elsewhere, but in this city? It should have been impossible.
And yet—she did it.
That fact alone meant quite a lot.
As the rain subsided, a rainbow arced across the sky. Positioned perfectly behind her, it almost seemed like multicolored wings unfurling from her back.
Heart raised her hands and revealed her identity.
“I am Gabriel, an angel sent to earth by the Goddess. The corruption and debauchery of Trumpethall have reached their limit, and I have come to grant its people one final chance.”
With those words, all the unanswered questions suddenly made sense. He had always found it odd that not even the vast power of the Grand Duke could track her down. But if she was the Goddess’s envoy, then of course—he never could have found her.
Elvillion Julius, the Grand Duke of the North, steadied his breath and carefully asked about the true meaning behind the memories they shared.
“⋯⋯AAn angel, is it? Then… when you appeared in the capital back then, was that also under the Goddess’s orders?”
“No, that was just a hobby⋯⋯.”
“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”
“But the Divine Punishment that’s about to fall on this place? That’s real. Let me lay out the information I have. No matter how close we are, and even though I can borrow the Goddess’s power—business is business, right?”
Heart was Heart.
Elvillion Julius let out a slow exhale, the tension easing from his shoulders. He had no choice but to listen to her now.
===============================================================
Irid followed the traces, instinct guiding his every step.
And at the end of that path—
He finally saw her.
Black hair, like strands of silk. Blue eyes, deep as an endless ocean. She stood there before him, real and alive. Along with the faint scent of rosemary.
She wasn’t a painting, a fleeting mirage, or a construct of his imagination.
She was here.
“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”
How long had he longed for this moment? Every night, he had dreamed of it. Dozens, hundreds of times, he had imagined their reunion, rehearsing the words he would say when it finally arrived.
But now—
Now that she was standing in front of him, he was terrified.
What if this was all a dream? What if it vanished the moment he reached out?.
Please, if this is a dream, do not let me wake up.
With his heart on the verge of trembling, he carefully parted his lips.
“⋯⋯Centra.”
“⋯⋯Irid.”
And as always—when he hesitated, Centra was the one to move first. The AI with emotions threw herself into the Second Prince’s arms. And he could feel her warmth.
Centra smiled softly and said.
“⋯⋯Shall we finally enjoy, the festival this time?”
“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”
A continuation of that day—one that had left no regrets, yet lingering feelings remained.
Only then did Irid truly understand—
This was a reality sweeter than any dream.
***
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