023. Unearthing Talent
Silence.
Time passed in silence, second by second. Atkertz felt the air take on a strange aura. The carpet on the floor slowly curled up, and the previously warm and comfortable room gradually became dark and damp. A vortex, an invisible vortex, rose from the abyss, seeping into this universe, bit by bit devouring everything.
Atkertz kept quiet, but he could clearly hear a buzzing sound in his ears.
He heard electromagnetic waves bombarding planetary atmospheres, high-energy rays annihilating civilizations, the rising tide of entropy pressing forward, the drumbeats of collision resounding, and the prelude to rebirth through molten fusion.
He heard howls and cries from the lower arm of the Leo Minor constellation, beginning when the first ape picked up a stone, followed by the echoes of gunfire and magic throughout the cosmos.
He heard the end of grand epics, cold explosions reverberating above the ozone layer. The vacuum carried no sound, only the ashes of destruction.
As everything came to an end, Atkertz was left hearing only twisted white noise.
A ceaseless, distorted murmur from the Star Abyss.
In a daze, he felt his mental power being bent by a star, his entire being ensnared by its immense gravity. The horrifying shock resonated in every cell, spreading like a plague, breaking him down in an instant.
Trembling, horror, shivers, hysteria.
Just then, Barcomon suddenly spoke:
"Damn it, how can it feel so devoid of human warmth?"
His tone was filled with confusion and helplessness, and the oppressive and twisted atmosphere in the air immediately dissipated. Atkertz instantly came to his senses, his clothes drenched in cold sweat, which was rapidly evaporating under the inscribed spells.
"Minister Barcomon…"
"He's not human. Even if he were a synthetic robot from the Night Butterfly House, he wouldn't be so cold and emotionless."
Barcomon looked down at the document in his hand, which contained an essay of just ten thousand words.
It was ordinary, yet terrifying.
The entire essay was written in the most simple and unadorned language. Everything was kept straightforward, every word perfectly in place.
But the terrifying part was that, even with the most stirring words, when read together, it felt empty.
Barcomon's mood remained unsettled for a long time as he gazed at the nebula outside the window, speaking in a low voice:
"Atkertz, do you know what the problem is?"
Atkertz replied:
"This couldn't have been written by a human. There's no trace of warmth or humanity in the text, but it is absolutely correct. Even a robot couldn't be this flawless."
"It's divinity." Barcomon said, "He possesses divinity. Divinity is above humanity, detached from it. Humans cannot have such sentiments or this level of perspective—humans make mistakes, but gods do not. The only reason gods make mistakes is that they lack strength, not because of subjective errors."
Atkertz said:
"Do you think this young man, Leozi, is related to the Leozi from myth…?"
"There are too many people named Leozi. Even those who ascended to godhood later weren't few." Barcomon shook his head. "Besides, every child knows that Leozi and the Sixth Lord God he served, [Domination's Will]—Morphedria—are the most thoroughly dead."
"Whatever the case, we should be cautious, Minister." Atkertz reminded him. "A young man with divinity is more worthy of attention than a descendant of a god—could he possibly be a spy sent by a Narrative-level civilization?"
After all, throughout the universe, there are very few civilizations capable of stabilizing divinity, but Narrative-level civilizations in the Abyss have that ability.
"…There are many divine beings in Narrative-level civilizations, but so what?"
Barcomon chuckled:
"It's true that Narrative-level civilizations can domesticate gods, just as dragons can be tamed as mounts. But would you casually let a dragon fall into the enemy's hands?"
Atkertz shook his head. "Of course not. Our Crystal Tower civilization only has one high-level dragon, after all. Even low-tier dragon beasts, as numerous as they are, aren't allowed to roam freely."
"Even someone responsible for academy transfers like you understands that much, so of course the cunning Narrative-level folks know better."
Barcomon shook his head again, saying:
"Who would send a godlike being with obvious inhumanity to infiltrate an illegal civilization—it would stand out like a firefly in the night."
"But it's also possible they're deliberately using that mindset to reduce suspicion of the spy."
"You're not wrong. I don't like the Narrative-level civilizations. They are rulers, but they act without principles or boundaries. This possibility isn't out of the question—but we can't let go of this young man either."
Barcomon picked up the file and tossed it onto his desk:
"First, we'll classify this essay and conceal the issue of his divinity. Let's not allow him into the Sanctum. Since there's a chance he's a Narrative-level spy, we'll assign him to an interstellar academy instead. That'll lower the sensitivity of our intelligence."
"That's a great idea!"
Atkertz's eyes lit up:
"At an interstellar academy, the students come from allied illegal civilizations and lower-tier planetary civilizations. While their political status is high, the sensitivity is much lower—there are no secret magical workshops or important research projects."
Barcomon's approach surprised Atkertz—he had expected the man to choose to eliminate or exile Leozi, given Barcomon's known grudge against Narrative-level civilizations and his infamous temper, which had spread throughout their entire civilization.
Yet, that didn't happen.
Not only that, but Barcomon had come up with a solution that benefited both sides.
"A talent like this shouldn't be wasted. As long as he receives education in one of our universities and contributes knowledge, we profit. An interstellar academy is the perfect fit—we can observe him while ensuring he doesn't feel neglected."
Atkertz praised:
"That way, we save face and gain his service, without worrying about him accessing classified information—everyone takes a step back, and it's a win-win."
"Even if he is a Narrative-level spy, it doesn't matter. Interstellar academies are meant to showcase our Crystal Tower civilization to the outside world."
Barcomon said, and Atkertz was a bit surprised.
Earlier, Barcomon had been exuding an aura from the Abyss, clearly sensing a potential connection between Leozi and a Narrative-level civilization. But now he had suddenly calmed down and made such a rational decision.
Barcomon glanced at Atkertz: "You've heard the rumors, right? About my conflict with the Narrative-level civilizations, and you're worried about stepping on a landmine?"
Before Atkertz could reply, Barcomon continued:
"That's understandable. After all, I returned from the Star Abyss. Even across the entire Abyss… there aren't more than tens of billions who've descended."
Atkertz was stunned: "Only that few?"
"Likely even fewer. After enduring the curse, those who can still stand and fight might not even fill a planet. Most of them are gathered in the hands of the three major Narrative-level civilizations. At that point, all that binds them together is the pursuit of their path."
Barcomon explained:
"For anyone above Kappa-level, breaking through the biological ceiling requires descending into the Star Abyss to free themselves from their limitations—understanding that gives you some idea of just how mysterious the Abyss truly is."
"That's why this 'Leozi' holds some significance. Possessing divinity means he can avoid some detours in the pursuit of his path. Watching how he grows will be a valuable resource in itself."
"Regarding Leozi, your approach should be one of cooperation—examine his background and upbringing while cultivating him—but remember, cultivate, don't nourish."
Atkertz understood:
"You mean, provide him with educational resources, but not growth resources?"
"It's better for everyone that way. We won't have to worry about him betraying us later and wasting our investment. Leozi won't feel like we're paying too much attention to him, nor will he think we're imposing excessive demands and oversight, which could affect his view of us."
But there was something Barcomon didn't say.
If Leozi realized his own importance, he might start to demand more or turn to another civilization, using it to threaten the Crystal Tower into providing additional resources.
As a bureaucrat and military officer of an interstellar civilization, Barcomon had seen this kind of double-dealing many times.
If Leozi dared to play that game, Barcomon wouldn't hesitate to show him what a gamma-ray burst felt like.
Atkertz's response satisfied Barcomon. The subsequent reports and recommendations were on point, earning Barcomon's approval. At the end of their discussion, Barcomon expressed his appreciation for his young subordinate:
"Your insight is good, but you lack some experience. As it happens, I have a task that needs to be handled—how about I give it to you?"
Atkertz's eyes lit up—this was a sign that his boss wanted to groom him.
But even though he was ready to accept, he knew he had to play along with some formalities.
"Oh, you're too kind, Minister. I'm not sure I'm capable enough to handle such an important task on my own."
The implication being that he hoped Barcomon would assign someone to assist him so his achievements could be relayed back to the Minister.
As a technical bureaucrat, Atkertz was confident in his ability to solve problems, but he feared that his accomplishments might go unnoticed.
After all, how dangerous could a task on an educational planet be? It was clear Barcomon intended to groom him, whether as a second-in-command or a future candidate for promotion—and with Barcomon's personality, there were likely several such candidates already in the mix.
To stand out, Atkertz knew he had to seize every opportunity to shine.
Seeing through Atkertz's thoughts, Barcomon waved his hand dismissively:
"I'll assign you two assistants. The task isn't difficult, but it requires long-term attention."
"Please, tell me what needs to be done, and I'll do my best." Atkertz assured him.
"Here's the thing. It's a bit complicated, so I'll get straight to the point."
Barcomon pondered for a moment before casting a shielding spell and speaking in confidence:
"Do you know the Golden Dragon Monk, Arch Duke Monther?"
"I've heard a bit. He apparently gained the bloodline of a high-level dragon by chance, which led him down a unique path. His temperament became noble and pure, and he voluntarily joined us to assist in our battles."
Atkertz thought for a moment, then added:
"Arch Duke Monther seems to be a formidable warrior on the front lines. I've heard people talk about the Battle of the Eye of the Galaxy, where he held his own against three Kappa-level powerhouses. They say the battle wouldn't have been won without him. Having such an ally is a great blessing."
"Is there a problem? Is he refusing to fight for us?"
"No, that's not it."
Barcomon turned, half-smiling as he spoke:
"You know, high-level dragon-blooded beings are rare. Those above are considering how to keep him with us. At the very least, they want to secure his bloodline."
"That doesn't seem like an issue, does it?" Atkertz hesitated, not seeing the problem.
Barcomon's tone took on an amused lilt as he explained:
"This guy's got Golden Dragon blood—he's a natural artist with high aesthetic standards. And on top of that, he's a monk, disdainful of worldly desires."
"—Only a woman of extraordinary artistic talent, refined elegance, and beauty could possibly catch his eye."
Atkertz suddenly understood:
"Uh, Minister, do you mean… have we found someone like that?"
"I'd say, more or less."
"That's great!" Atkertz exclaimed, "Where is she now? What do you need me to do?"
"She's buried underground."
Barcomon said:
"She's the descendant of a special individual. What you need to do is dig her up, revive her, then train her. The war's going to last another sixty years, plenty of time to turn her into a loyal agent of the Crystal civilization."
"Is she someone from ancient times? If so, she's likely of divine blood, or a member of a superior species. Our technology… isn't capable of reviving someone of that level, right?"
"It's not that extreme. From what I understand, she's only been missing for a few decades. Your job starts now."
"Rest assured, Minister. My primary duty is unearthing talent, followed by teaching and nurturing."
Now it really was about "unearthing" talent.
Fortunately, for a mage, digging up graves was a familiar task. Few mages hadn't dug up a grave or two… or as they called it, exploring archaeological ruins.
Hearing that the mission was within his professional expertise, Atkertz relaxed a little:
"What's this girl's name? I'll need to gather some information about her and see if I can find any records."
Logically, a beautiful, elegant, and artistically talented woman wouldn't be hard to find in the historical records, even if she'd been dormant for many years.
"Virlia."
Barcomon said:
"Her full name is: Virwe Aellria Saint Valentino."