Chapter 547 |
Rustle-
Within the Grand Assembly Hall of the New York Heroes Association Branch, the summoned committee members quietly took their seats. Unlike normal though, their eyes kept drifting toward the many empty chairs scattered throughout.
“Half are missing… it seems we took heavier losses than expected.”
“How many of them do you think saw it coming? We were completely unprepared.”
What they had thought was an indiscriminate act of terrorism was merely a distraction. Puppeteer’s attack three days ago had one single goal: the assassination of key individuals across the Association, government, corporations, and guilds through biological puppets she planted long ago.
“Isn’t that guy still alive? Why didn’t he show up here today?”
“They say he’s still hospitalized. His son and grandson were both turned into puppets.”
“…Tsk.”
Their survival… that didn’t mean they were okay. Close friends, trusted subordinates—and even family—had been puppets. The psychological toll of taking such people down was unimaginable.
“…Maybe we got too comfortable.”
They assumed the worst was behind them, resulting in a severe underestimation of just how far the Demon Force could go.
With that dawning over everyone, a heavy silence settled over the room until the door near the podium swung open.
Step. Step. Step.
Every single murmur died; all eyes turned toward Gregory. He, who had suffered severe wounds three days ago, looked unshaken. In fact, there was even something about him that was even stronger: a hardened presence that weighed heavily on the room.
“Before we begin as the Emergency Response Committee, I wish to speak not as the President of the Association… but as Gregory Nelson.”
Standing at the podium, Gregory looked across the seated members.
“Puppeteer’s attack has dealt a tremendous blow to humanity. Without the Blessings, we would’ve never recovered—we’d still be lost in chaos.”
Countless organizations had lost their upper leadership to the assassinations, but widespread disorder had not followed. Thanks to the Blessing of the Eternal, the dead had promptly reawakened in the Netherworld to refill the gaps in governance by acting as spiritual administrators.
“Still, the present is merely the worst-case scenario narrowly averted. The condition of the Puppeteer-controlled victims clearly reveals the severity of the threat.”
While many that died in the attack were currently preparing to return from the Netherworld, there was not a single one among them that had been transformed into a biological puppet.
Even those subdued by Se-Hoon remained unconscious, locked in a coma. Even the Blessing of the Sacred Lantern, which had roused countless others, could not reach them.
“From this, we have once again confirmed that the Blessings are not omnipotent. If we continue to cling to our delusions, the Demon Force will drive their blades into our necks without fail.”
“…”
“Stop being so complacent. Don’t be blinded by future profits. The enemy cannot be used as your pawn. If anyone here ignores this warning…”
Gregory swept his gaze across the room.
“Then I will take care of them myself, even if it means stepping down as president.”
The room fell so silent that not even breathing could be heard. Everyone in that room knew his declaration wasn’t political—it was a death sentence. If Gregory, of all people, was saying he’d relinquish his position to act, then that was an absolute certainty. Being socially ruined would be the least of their problems.
Some idiots have gotten bolder lately.
This should keep them quiet until the war’s truly over.
So long as the Demon Force had not been wiped out, humanity could not afford a civil war. Naturally, most silently agreed, being innocent. Those in question, however, could only hide their expressions and subtly avoid eye contact.
“I believe that concludes my personal remarks.” Feeling the tension had cooled, Gregory let out a small sigh and straightened. “Let’s begin the Emergency Response Committee regarding Puppeteer’s extermination.”
With the meeting finally beginning, a multitude of reports and holographic documents filled the air as each department representative took turns explaining their findings. The first topic was restructuring the command chain to respond more effectively to future attacks. Then came damage reports, recovery plans, and strategies for future defense.
“Up until now, humanity’s territory has been protected solely by the Pilgrim’s Holy Barrier, otherwise known as the Pilgrim’s Path. Now there is a new force at our disposal.”
Prompted by the researcher, the world map appeared with various territories shielded by the Pilgrim’s Path highlighted. Next, an aurora-like veil of various colors spread across the map.
“This veil was created through the collaboration of the Emperor of Ascension and Lee Se-Hoon. It is said to be the prototype of their ongoing Planetary Reinforcement Project.”
“The Planetary Reinforcement Project? So it was real all along?”
“I thought it was just a cover to funnel funds…”
The committee members watched the reveal of the long-rumored secret project with intrigue.
“This veil has two primary functions. First is the real-time, global surveillance conducted by those known as Platoon Commanders, undead with golden halos deployed across the world.”
Photos of halo-crowned undead appeared in the air, along with accompanying data. Checking the statistics, the committee members stared in disbelief at the figure of tens of millions.
He’s remotely commanding that many undead at once to monitor the world?
Whoever’s processing all that information must be living in hell.
The scale was beyond comprehension, leaving the committee utterly dumbfounded.
“These Platoon Commanders monitor their regions for a special wave emitted by Puppeteer’s puppets. When detected, the veil’s second function activates: interference.”
Like they had seen, it severed the very essence of Puppeteer’s marionette spell. Se-Hoon had shown them the very countermeasure once believed to be purely theoretical.
These two features alone are already absurdly powerful…
If this is just the prototype, then what level is the full Planetary Reinforcement Project operating at?
The miracle that had ended Puppeteer’s assault now revealed itself as a glimpse into a higher technology. It gave them hope… but also unease.
After all, while that power could protect them, it could also trap them within.
…So that’s what the warning was about.
It’s a dangerous power, either way.
The researcher claimed it was created jointly with the Emperor of Ascension, but was it really? Thoughts of Se-Hoon’s previous accomplishments flickered through their minds, but they quickly pushed them away as Gregory’s earlier warning echoed in their ears once again.
There’s no need for speculation.
The only thing that matters is that humanity needs Lee Se-Hoon’s power right now.
Seeing the room’s sentiment beginning to converge, Gregory gave the researcher a subtle signal.
“Ahem. As I mentioned, however, this is merely a prototype. It cannot be sustained for more than a week. If it collapses, another attack may come immediately.”
All the other countermeasures they’d discussed amounted to little more than patchwork after the damage was done. Right now, only the veil could stop the next attack. And if they were to attack Puppeteer, such protection would be essential above all else.
“That is why we believe providing unlimited support for the veil—and the Planetary Reinforcement Project—is necessary to protect citizens and eliminate Puppeteer.”
Every sector—the Association, government, corporations, guilds—would have to pour its resources into completing that single project. Although they had supported Se-Hoon before, public endorsement of such a scale was unprecedented.
“…”
“…”
A new precedent would be set. Even the Perfect Ones had never received such treatment—nor had they wanted it.
With such implications, there was a long deliberation until a decision was made.
“And with that, I declare the policy of unlimited support for the Planetary Reinforcement Project unanimously approved.”
***
Standing in front of the central structure of the Netherworld—once known as the Black Pillar but now called the Memorial Tower—were two figures: Meirin, with a lollipop in her mouth like a cigarette, and Lea, operating the improved Sphere that was now composed of seven interlocking rings.
“…”
“…”
The two were silent, both staring straight ahead in the same direction. It was only when Meirin, finishing her lollipop, popped another one into her mouth that the silence finally broke.
“How’s he looking?”
Without a word, Lea quietly inscribed a new enchantment spell on her Sphere… only for there to be no reaction.
“There’s no response,” she said quietly.
“…This is getting messy.”
Meirin sighed and looked ahead again: at where Se-Hoon stood.
Woong-
A gray, thorny halo hovered over his head. There was also a violet mist coiled around his entire body, neither mana nor demonic aura, but something else… something mysterious.
On top of that, Se-Hoon was completely motionless with his eyes closed, as if asleep.
He warned me it might be dangerous… but I never imagined it would be this dangerous.
Three days ago, to block Puppeteer’s attack and locate her true body, Se-Hoon had begun the Planetary Reinforcement Project himself. Combining all the powers he had mastered and using the Hero’s Ring to supply divine mana, he had successfully forged a brand new law.
Then he regulated the law further, through the Pilgrim’s Crown of Original Sin, to create the veil racing across the world.
He created a technique modeled after the Pilgrim’s Path with his law in a single moment…. The burden must be enormous.
Not even Se-Hoon could sustain such a large-scale technique alone, so he used every means available. Through Lea’s Analog Stellar System, he offloaded the ritual’s burden to Ludwig and the others. Repeating the Prayer Operation, he channeled the people’s prayers and wishes through the Sanctified Branch to restrain the new technique from rampaging.
It was only thanks to the combination of everything that he had successfully deployed the veil and even maintained it. The only problem was that he had yet to wake.
If his synesthetic mindscape had collapsed, the veil would’ve crumbled too. That isn’t something one can maintain in an unstable state.
Yet the veil remained perfectly intact. In other words, the supposed one-week time limit was due to Lea’s stamina and the Sanctified Branch’s durability rather than any issue on Se-Hoon’s side. Aside from the fact that he wouldn’t wake up, everything was genuinely functioning normally.
“If it were a day, maybe. But three days? With the ritual still intact? That’s completely abnormal. You realize that, don’t you?”
“…”
“If we look at all the symptoms together… then the most likely explanation is that he was consumed by the ritual.”
A phenomenon in which a highly complete spell devours the caster, maintaining itself indefinitely—at least until the caster dies. It was rare but not unheard of; such a thing occurred every so often when a spell that couldn’t be controlled somehow succeeded by chance.
And that aligned all too well with Se-Hoon’s current condition.
“The Association just passed its policy. It’s time to make a decision.”
Should they dismantle the veil, awaken Se-Hoon, and rebuild it with help from the world? Or should they leave him be, maintain the current system, and hunt down Puppeteer’s true body?
Both options had their pros and cons. But only one person could choose: Lea.
“Phew…”
Once again feeling the full weight of the decision, Lea let out a deep sigh and muttered, “What was he thinking, leaving this all to me?”
Surely there were more responsible people to entrust it to, like the Dean and the Association President.
“Because he trusts you, obviously,” Meirin flatly replied, biting the last of her lollipop.
“…He trusts me?”
“Who else would he trust?”
Meirin glanced at the Sphere hovering over Lea’s hands, rotating slowly.
“This whole veil is being upheld largely thanks to your Sphere and unique skill. If you weren’t around, he would’ve done it some other way.”
“…”
“From what I’ve seen, your strength and knowledge already go beyond what’s necessary. The only thing you’re lacking is decisiveness—how to weave it all together.”
Slice-
Meirin’s palm split open, blood trickling down as a red blade shimmering with ominous light formed in her hand.
“I used myself as both the forge and material. That’s why I can refine things through blood and soul. That’s how I was able to reach a different realm than the rest.”
“A different realm…”
“When I helped improve your Sphere, I noticed your power stems from two sources. The first is Celestial Magic; the second, Biological Enchantments.”
Lea’s eyes widened at the mention of Biological Enchantments. That… had once been Puppeteer’s field of research when she was still human.
“What are you talking about…”
“When you fight so hard to destroy someone, their knowledge rubs off on you regardless of whether you like it. Speaking from experience.”
Seeing the red blade in Meirin’s hand, Lea fell silent. They’d never discussed the past, but somehow, she knew Meirin had suffered through something similar.
“Until now, you’ve managed to juggle both sides. Now, from here on out, you need to choose.”
Only then could she grow not just as an enchanter, but as a person.
“…”
Lea once again looked at Se-Hoon, at the one who had trusted her with the decision.
Come to think of it, nothing he’s ever entrusted to me has ended in failure.
Even things that had seemed impossible always ended up with a solution. Maybe that was why he left it to her—because he believed she would choose the option that led to the best solution.
“…I’ll try one last time then.”
If it failed, she would dismantle the veil and wake him. Having made her choice, Lea once again etched an enchantment into the Sphere.
He’s not unconscious but buried. He’s suffering under the flood of information pouring in from across the world.
In that case, she could reach him directly by bypassing all the data. But how? When the global data was flooding in real time? Searching for a solution among the enchantments she had tried before, Lea suddenly recalled something from the past.
“…”
Her first joint project with Se-Hoon when she’d been in a slump—afraid to try something, afraid to fail. It was thanks to Se-Hoon’s encouragement that she mustered the courage to even try.
It was a somewhat embarrassing memory… and that feeling returned to her now.
Yeah… having a few flaws is perfectly normal.
He knew that, yet still trusted her. That was why Lea also made her choice. She would believe in his trust—in herself. Taking a deep breath, Lea cleared the existing enchantments and began anew, drawing freely from her imagination.
Woong-
She let go of perfectionism. Lea simply poured her heart into a brand new vision, letting her hand move freely without hesitation. And once the final stroke completed the enchantment, a violet light immediately bloomed within the Sphere.
“!”
For the first time in three days, even before she activated it, Se-Hoon reacted. Astonished, both Lea and Meirin stared in astonishment at the fading light that hid the completed enchantment.
This is…
She didn’t know how… but all the flaws she’d made had been corrected. Like a miracle, a perfect realization of what she had only vaguely imagined had come into existence.
Also, there was a score beneath her enchantment.
“98 points.”
“…You could’ve given me two more, you know.”
Chuckling wryly, Lea activated the Sphere to apply the new enchantment to the Analog Stellar System.
Woong-
Unlike before, a faint resonance spread through the air.
“…Did it fail again?”
“If it did, I’m going to cry.”
Failure after a moment like that? That would just be cruel. Time slowly passed as Meirin’s face twisted with an awkward expression and Lea’s eyes began to tear up—
“…Um, excuse me?”
The two of them spun around toward the voice coming from behind to find Terra standing there awkwardly, like a shadow.
“Huh? What are you doing here?”
“Well…”
Terra hesitantly glanced past the two of them at Se-Hoon.
“The Administrator told me to complete the Planetary Reinforcement Project…”
kyokon's Thoughts
Sigh: The author is always shafting Lea, huh. Her big moment was so lack luster….
