"What exactly are you?" Otto demanded in a low voice, glancing at the silhouetted guard projected onto the thin tent flap. The dimly lit tent was thick with a sour, stale odor.
["Didn't I tell you? My name is Void Archives..."]
"I'm not asking for your name!" Otto covered his face tightly. He'd lost count of how many times they'd had this exact conversation on their journey.
His experiences on the road, and this strange thing calling itself "Void Archives," had driven home a hard truth for Otto: manipulation and political maneuvering only worked if you possessed the means to threaten the other party.
In other words, someone utterly powerless, even if their strategies could fool all of humanity, could never truly achieve greatness.
The sudden battle that morning was proof. Commander Maximus had made all the right calls; reviewing it now, Otto still couldn't find fault with his response. But faced with overwhelming strength, none of it mattered.
And he, Otto, faced the same situation with this bizarre golden cube. He'd tried everything—hard and soft approaches, various tricks—to glean some information about this entity. Yet, after dozens of days and nights, all he knew about it was its name.
He had absolutely no way to threaten it, while it seemed capable of taking his life with ease. This inherent imbalance in their positions from the very beginning was precisely what Otto hated most.
However, he wasn't entirely discouraged. He knew he possessed something Void Archives desired, even if he didn't know what it was yet. Thinking back, it was clear Void Archives had actively intervened to save him from the Ming cavalry's blades.
Its subsequent attempts at obfuscation were likely just ploys to hide its own initiative.
With this realization, Otto felt reassured. Void Archives needing something from him was advantageous. It meant the apparent power imbalance was superficial. Fundamentally, their relationship was one of mutual exploitation, each seeking something from the other. That was good. That was the kind of relationship Otto considered the most stable, the most reliable.
"Just wait... 'Void Archives'," Otto thought grimly. "One day, I'll uncover all your secrets..."
"Otto!"
Otto quickly concealed Void Archives and snapped his head towards the tent entrance. A slender figure cast a shadow on the flap. Before the silhouette could become perfectly distinct, the flap was thrown open forcefully.
"Otto! Are you alright?!"
Kallen rushed to Otto's side in a few quick steps. Before he could say anything, she started fussing over him.
She lifted his arm, squeezed it, patted his knee, then ruffled his hair, seemingly needing to personally confirm every single hair on his body was unharmed before she could rest easy.
["Tsk, your affection is quite something."] Void Archives' voice echoed directly in Otto's mind, tinged with an envy bordering on sarcasm.
"Shut up!" Otto retorted silently.
No matter how "mature and experienced" he considered himself, Otto Apocalypse was still just a young man in his early twenties. Being close to the girl he loved wasn't embarrassing in itself, but having a third party watching with keen interest made the situation incredibly awkward.
What made it even more awkward was that Kallen was completely unaware.
"Eh? Otto, why is your face so hot? You don't have a fever, do you?" Kallen's fingers brushed his cheek, then she quickly pressed her palm against his forehead.
"Hmm? Doesn't feel that obvious..." Kallen pouted, then pressed her own forehead against his.
"Ahem-cough-cough-cough!" Void Archives choked abruptly, sounding like it had inhaled water.
Otto couldn't stand it anymore. He shot to his feet, putting some distance between himself and Kallen.
"Ahem!" Perhaps influenced by Void Archives, Otto cleared his throat first. Then, under Kallen's confused gaze, he went through a routine of jumping jacks, leg kicks, squats, and stretches before forcing a smile. "See? See? I have great luck, nothing's wrong with me at all! No need... to worry..."
As he performed his exaggerated movements, Kallen inevitably stepped back. Light filtering through the gap in the tent flaps illuminated her face, and Otto finally saw her red, swollen eyes.
"Kallen, I..." Otto, usually eloquent, found himself at a loss for words. Even Void Archives, whom he considered a chatterbox, remained uncharacteristically silent.
After obtaining Void Archives, Otto hadn't immediately accepted its "help." Instead, he had evaded the Ming cavalry on his own, eventually trading his pocket watch with a Magyar tribe for a horse. Only then, two months after that disastrous battle, did he finally reach the main Schicksal army camp on the front lines.
News of the regiment's complete annihilation had already spread throughout the army. The reason was simple: after tallying their merits, the Ming had magnanimously piled nearly three thousand heads into a gruesome jingguan (skull pyramid) just outside the Schicksal lines.
The good news was, Otto's head wasn't among them. The bad news was, Otto's head wasn't among them.
For two months, everyone had wondered: what happened to the young master of the Apocalypse family? Did he escape by sheer luck? Was he captured by the Ming? Or did he simply surrender?
Only Kallen worried constantly: How was Otto? Where was he?
Now, seeing him standing here, unharmed, she could finally... relax.
Under the sunlight filtering in, a blush quickly rose on Kallen's cheeks.
"You... you should rest well. I need to get back to the Valkyrie unit, or Eleanor and the others will tease me again..."
"Kallen!" Otto reached out, wanting her to stay, but Kallen had already whisked the tent flap aside and vanished.
The sour smell of sweat in the tent seemed to disappear suddenly. Otto gently covered his mouth with the hand Kallen had just held, instinctively sniffing. A faint, sweet fragrance lingered—a scent Otto knew intimately.
But beneath that sweetness, there was a concealed scent of blood...
Clearly, Kallen's departure wasn't entirely due to fear of Eleanor's gossip; it was more likely she had combat duties to attend to.
["You had a chance to keep her here just now."]
Otto paused, realizing the cool, indifferent voice belonged to Void Archives. Since they met, its tone had always been flippant, cynical, even mimicking Otto's own mannerisms at times. Speaking so seriously seemed like a first for Void Archives.
But Otto didn't know how to respond.
["Ah well, it doesn't matter."] Void Archives made a smacking sound, then suddenly asked, ["Do you know what flower her perfume is extracted from?"]
"Iris. Purple iris, to be precise. Why?" If Void Archives wasn't being deliberately obtuse, Otto wasn't averse to normal conversation. It was one way to alleviate the loneliness.
Whether intentionally or not, Void Archives paused for a moment before continuing, ["Otto Apocalypse, do you truly know... what an iris is?"]
"Hmm?" Otto frowned. Void Archives addressing him by his full name felt unfamiliar... uncomfortable.
He was rarely called by his full name. Combined with Void Archives' uncharacteristically cold tone, Otto couldn't help but feel looked down upon. He was an Apocalypse, after all, possessing an almost pathological aristocratic pride. He couldn't tolerate the flat... almost contemptuous way Void Archives uttered the name Apocalypse.
But he currently had no leverage over Void Archives, so he could only ignore the unpleasant parts and address the latter half of the question. Though, the phrasing of that part was also strange—
What is an iris?
An iris is a flower. An iris is an iris. If he answered Void Archives' question literally, Otto would utter such awkward tautology.
But he didn't believe an entity like Void Archives would seek such a pointless answer.
Thus, after brief consideration, he revised the question—
Not what an iris is, but what an iris symbolizes.
"Freedom and light."
"Hmm?" Otto frowned again. Though he couldn't imagine Void Archives' human form, Otto felt it must have just frowned. Clearly, it wasn't satisfied with his answer, or perhaps, it didn't understand why Otto gave that specific answer.
Wait, wasn't its question "What does the iris symbolize?"
"Is it asking about the language of flowers?" Otto vaguely recalled the concept of "floriography" recently trending among Kolosten's upper circles. It was said the ancient Greeks first proposed it, meaning Kolosten's noblewomen were likely "reviving" the concept.
Hold on... Ancient Greece... Iris and ancient Greece...
Otto cupped his chin. The human mind worked strangely; sometimes, a flash of insight could connect two seemingly unrelated things.
However, such inspiration came and went quickly. Otto only remembered reading something about ancient Greeks and irises in a book once, but couldn't recall the details right now.
Perhaps the best way to understand Void Archives' meaning was to ask it directly.
But Otto couldn't bring himself to ask.
It wasn't about losing face; he simply couldn't form the words. The simple question brewed between his lips and teeth but refused to become actual speech, as if a higher-dimensional existence had severed the query from reality.
"Forget it..." Otto wasn't impatient. That book was still in his underground lab. Once he returned to Kolosten after the war, he could simply look it up. He wasn't an impatient man.
["Sigh... It seems you can't provide an answer?"] Void Archives' tone regained its faint mockery, but Otto ignored it. After his internal struggle, Otto had a faint suspicion—
Void Archives seemed to be hinting at something with that question.
Otto had a premonition it was hinting at something important to him, but he, the current Otto, simply couldn't give the answer yet. He absolutely couldn't give the answer.
Or perhaps... the time appointed by fate had not yet arrived.
"Otto!"
A shout came from outside the tent again. It definitely wasn't Kallen returning. Rather, it was a male voice Otto vaguely recognized.
He replied uncertainly, "Is that... Wilhelm?"
"Tsk! Add Kaslana after my name! Do you still want to be my brother-in-law or not?"
The tent flap was thrown open again. A young man with short, messy white hair and handsome, sharply defined features—more so than Otto's—walked in. His clothes weren't extravagant but were clean enough, striking a contrast with the filthy camp.
"Apologies. Some Ming wanderers possess a skill called 'Disguise Technique.' We've been fooled several times, and your situation, Otto... is somewhat special. We had no choice but to have my sister verify you personally," Wilhelm Kaslana apologized preemptively before Otto could speak.
["Well now..."] Void Archives' voice piped up inexplicably in Otto's mind again. ["Kaslanas... whether in appearance or personality, they're all cut from the same mold."]
"!" Otto's pupils contracted slightly. "You've met Kaslanas before?"
["Hmm... Hmm? I was talking about your little girlfriend and your little brother-in-law."]
Otto didn't believe its nonsense for a second, but after that one reply, Void Archives clammed up again, adopting a "believe it or not" attitude.
So, he could only turn back to face Wilhelm in reality. "It's alright, I understand. And... thank you..."
Among the three great families of Schicksal, the Apocalypses handled politics, while the Kaslanas and Schariacs focused more on military affairs... Er, speaking of which, the ancestors of those two families were originally one.
The three great families had branched out but also intermarried frequently; the direct lines were all acquainted. With Kaslanas and Schariacs abundant in the army, confirming Otto's identity didn't strictly require Kallen.
For instance, Wilhelm himself, an aide-de-camp, could have done it. Specifically fetching Kallen was clearly Wilhelm playing matchmaker.
He extended his hand, intending the handshake currently fashionable in Kolosten, but unexpectedly, Wilhelm's expression became incredibly pained.
"What's wrong?"
"N-nothing..." Wilhelm's smile was extremely forced. He hesitated for a long moment, then slowly lifted his right arm slightly.
Seeing the empty sleeve, Otto fell silent for a moment before speaking, "I was wondering why you'd leave the front lines to become your uncle's aide-de-camp..."
Hearing this, Wilhelm squeezed out another smile. "Well, at least I'm still alive. Luckier than Laura, Gaspar, and Claudia... Otto, among my father's children, only my sister remains completely unharmed."
"Yes, I understand. I won't let anything happen to her again."
"Good." Wilhelm shrugged, tucking his right arm behind his back. "Uncle Luka has read Overseer Nikolas's letter. He... has some questions he wants to ask you in person."
Otto nodded. To turn the tide of the war, they needed to do something that crossed the "moral bottom line" of ordinary people. To prevent wider knowledge, a face-to-face meeting was necessary. Judging by Wilhelm's current attitude, he likely didn't know the letter's contents...
But just as he was about to agree, Void Archives interjected again: ["Hey, don't take me there. I don't want to go."]
Otto's mouth twitched. He didn't know what madness Void Archives was spouting now.
"Er... I have some things I need to sort out quickly. Could you wait a moment?"
Wilhelm didn't answer but gave a slight bow and retreated from the tent.
Confirming Wilhelm wasn't peeking, Otto held out his right hand flat. The golden cube materialized in his palm.
"Hey! What are you doing now?"
["Nothing. I just don't want to meet any more Kaslanas."]
He couldn't get a straight answer out of this thing, but Otto was used to it.
"Something as conspicuous as you, leaving it in the tent will make it easy to find, right?" Otto tried probing from a different angle.
["No matter. I can transform."]
Otto blinked. The golden cube in his hand had already changed into the pocket watch he'd traded to the Magyars.
Otto, skeptical, opened the watch cover and found even the hand-engraved pattern inside the lid was identical.
Though surprised, recalling the strange abilities Void Archives used to save him, it wasn't entirely shocking.
He gently placed the "pocket watch" on the only small folding stool in the tent and walked out slowly.
After two seconds, he lifted the tent flap again. Seeing the "pocket watch" still sitting obediently on the stool, he nodded in satisfaction and left.
The bottom edge of the tent flap was still swaying gently. The pocket watch on the stool had vanished.
...
Two Luoli behind the main Schicksal camp lay two gently rolling hills. Perhaps because it was behind the front lines, a figure completely hidden beneath a black robe and holding a peculiar black umbrella had been standing atop one of the hills, waiting for the entire afternoon.
"What is it?"
Gray Serpent seemed to lag for a fraction of a second. Despite being prepared, he still found the "Lord's" habit of appearing and disappearing without a trace unsettling.
"My Lord, the clone I sent to Mount Taixuan is dead again. That makes twenty-three thousand, six hundred and fifty-one over the past five thousand years."
"Oh."
Gray Serpent tilted his head almost imperceptibly, carefully observing the man beside him. Then, without knowing why himself, he silently took a step back, positioning himself slightly behind the man.
The late afternoon steppe wind ruffled the hem of the man's black robes and stirred his silver-grey choppy hair. He made no movement, spoke no words, as if Gray Serpent's report was a trivial matter.
He simply gazed out at the steppe before him. On the horizon, far east of the Schicksal camp, faint horn calls drifted on the wind as countless plumes of cooking smoke rose, slanting rigidly like leaning towers.
Before long, cooking smoke from the Schicksal camp also rose defiantly, though fewer in number, appearing somewhat lacking in momentum, twisting slightly as the wind blew.
Gray Serpent stared at the wispy smoke, unable to comprehend why his Lord would be interested in something so meaningless.
Or perhaps, his Lord's gaze wasn't directed at the smoke at all. Perhaps, simply existing in reality required his gaze to be fixed upon some point in space, and that was all.
But there were things Gray Serpent felt compelled to say: "My Lord, although I hesitate to criticize you or your comrades... the one on Mount Taixuan seems completely out of control. For five thousand years, she has completely severed ties with World Serpent... So, is it necessary to send another 'me' to Mount Taixuan?"
"No need." Michael replied without hesitation. "She has her own thoughts. Her temporary unwillingness to meet me is expected. But I will reunite with her soon enough. You need not concern yourself with it."
"I understand, my Lord. No more Gray Serpent individuals will trouble Mount Taixuan."
"Mm, good that you understand... Where has Mobius gone?"
"The Doctor... The Doctor went to Australia."
"Australia?"
"Yes... The Doctor said she found something interesting there and intends to study it alone first. However, since you forbade her from acting alone, [Setsuna] went as well."
Michael let out a soft snort, then said, "Let her be. Is everything stable in the Elysian Realm?"
"According to the reports Klein sent back, the comrades you sent in, my Lord... none have yet realized the truth. But... perhaps my reminder is redundant, my Lord, but... [She] has known all along, hasn't she?"
"Hmph..."
Before Gray Serpent could decipher the meaning behind Michael's cold snort, he realized the "Lord's" presence had suddenly vanished.
Sensing something, he looked towards the other hill. Accompanied by the faint clatter of hooves, two riders appeared on the opposite hilltop. They removed their helmets, revealing faces Gray Serpent knew all too well.
"Hmm... [Deliverance] and [Bodhi] have arrived as well..."