7-5 Countermeasure Meeting

After dinner, I spoke with the ambassador, Count Marius, and Antonio.

“No, this is truly a headache. That Marquis Nielsen… To exploit the weakness of the young lady of House Palmia, drag her out of a convent, and then intend to discard a noble daughter like a common prostitute. Certainly, noble daughters are well raised, refined, and attractive, so one could say they are not unsuited to that kind of work. The young ladies of House Palmia are also known for their beauty. That former general has not changed his vicious ways at all. And on top of that, B-rank adventurers, the Thieves’ Guild, and now even the Assassins’ Guild?”

After hearing my account, Count Marius grumbled and let out a sigh.

“So they plan to drug me into obedience and have me act in concert when the Empire attacks?”

Antonio clenched his fist so tightly his nails nearly bit into his palm.

“Ambassador, if the Assassins’ Guild makes a move, what methods would they use?”

“Well… Poison would be the first thing to consider. If it is a fast-acting and powerful poison, survival would be unlikely.”

“Would Greater Poison Heal still be useless?”

“You possess such an advanced healing spell?”

“I do, but it still feels unreliable.”

“Without knowing how the enemy will act, it is hard to say.”

Then I supposed it was time, for the first time in a while, to do some tinkering—magical fabrication.

I decided to rank up my healing magic in the room assigned to me at the embassy.

And I would do it in a way only I, a rare visitor with abnormal mana capacity, could.

It was a method of pouring in such overwhelming magical power that it produced spells far beyond what that rank should contain.

I imagined every kind of brute-force boost imaginable: an over-boosted turbo engine, triple chargers, high-power motors, electromagnetic acceleration catapults, rocket engines mounted on wheeled ground Mach cars, booster rockets for launching spacecraft—every excessive boost one could think of.

Oh, and I could not forget nitro.

How about a super-dragon grand firework called “Saturn V7,” made by bundling together seven of those old, rugged Saturn V heavy rockets once used by America?

At launch, divine conflagration would spew forth, flames licking the earth from the strongest launch platform imaginable.

If such a thing used the highly toxic fuel hydrazine and failed at launch, collapsing on the ground, it would be a catastrophe that would feel like the end of the world.

I evoked imagery on that scale.

I forced that intense boost image up from the depths of my soul.

In terms of MP numbers alone, as Mari said, I was certainly someone worthy of being called a Demon King.

The ultimate magic I created that way was not merely higher in rank—it was something entirely different, a super-magic.

Of course, it would not work unless I clearly imagined the spell’s effects while creating it.

I began ranking up one advanced healing spell after another that I had learned from Jessica at the Alba Grand Temple.

In exchange, it required an unimaginable, enormous amount of MP.

It prioritized effect above all else, consuming endless MP as the price to guarantee that effect.

In short, it was like a car with an incredibly inefficient engine but tremendous power.

There was a Japanese sports coupe that, when driven on a circuit, would only manage about two kilometers per liter despite being a production car, its fuel gauge dropping visibly fast—but in exchange, its performance was astonishing.

That was the kind of image.

Of course, that car supposedly had unreliable braking performance in stock form, earning it the nickname “the sports car with broken brakes.”

Well, that level of insanity was just right.

“God Poison Heal — Instantly heals any damage caused by any poison inflicted on the body.”

Its MP consumption depended on the strength of the poison.

And simply casting it would consume a terrifying amount of MP.

What a brutal spell.

Even I, the one who created it, felt taken aback.

This was forbidden magic that ordinary humans could never use.

They would collapse instantly from mana depletion.

In the worst case, they would die.

It truly deserved to be called a forbidden art.

This one, too, consumed an absurd amount of MP depending on the area and number of targets.

Its MP cost skyrocketed depending on the severity of the illness.

I also created spells like God Clear Blood and God Regenerate.

In total, I created six God-series spells.

At this point, it was practically the domain of a saint performing miracles.

In Japan, I could probably pass as the founder of a new religion.

I embedded those spells into Antonio’s item-box bracelet, configuring them to activate automatically like treatment pods whenever healing was needed.

Using sensor magic that detected attacks, I also packed the bracelet full of Besmagil batteries exclusively for Antonio, embedded in bulk using spatial magic.

Without that, using God-series magic would be impossible.

I also set it so I could check the bracelet’s remaining mana through my magic PC.

I made a God-series magic bracelet for myself as well and tested it with a dry run of spells—it felt quite good.

With this quality, even the Guildmaster might want one.

Oh, I should give one to His Highness Prince Emilio as well.

Would His Majesty want one too, I wondered.

I then called Antonio and applied authentication so that only his mana could activate the bracelet.

It was the same technique I had used before with magic guns, so it was easy.

Since it used Besmagil and the like, I did not want it falling into anyone else’s hands.

When I asked Antonio, “Won’t your body get rusty? Want to train at the Adventurers’ Guild?” he replied that he did not want to reveal his hand too much to enemies inside the Empire.

Apparently, he freely trained at my own practice field, the Glass Garden.

When I offered to help with training, he said, “Your magic armor has become something else entirely. I value my life, so I’ll pass. I don’t want to die before restoring my house.”

It seemed my magic armor had turned into something like an upgraded or super magic armor.

Thanks to the Besmagil mana batteries, he himself also seemed able to fight in ways different from before.

I was looking forward to the growth of the magic-armor lineage.

That growth might even be observable as a version upgrade.

With time on my hands, I could have played online games or watched anime, but instead I decided to go tease Marquis Nielsen.

I was interested in the man known as the “Flash-God.”

Frankly, he was far more intriguing than emperors or princes.

I was looking forward to it.

I would enjoy that scoundrel’s villainy through my invisible theater with ultra-concealment.

So, I immediately teleported to the Nielsen residence.

The master of the house, the old man, was in his study.

I observed his work from behind.

And he was writing a very dangerous document.

Yes—I had become able to read this world’s writing reasonably well.

What he was drafting was a letter to the second imperial prince regarding the current operation, and it included plans for an attack on the Kingdom.

Among them was an entry labeled “Attack on the Beast-Ear Garden.”

I reflexively teleported away.

If I had stayed, I might have leaked an unbearable killing intent.

Damn it—calm down.

I could not afford to be caught in the act of trespassing.

I had already placed a concealed recording pod in the air, so the entire contents of the letter continued to be recorded.

Recently, I had added a link function between my cameras and my magic PC.

Once a pod was deployed, I could freely retrieve or redeploy it using its coordinates.

I had also succeeded in drastically miniaturizing the pods.

Previously, the recording devices shared a chassis with large combat pods, but by giving them dedicated recording bodies, I achieved significant downsizing.

They were now almost palm-sized.

Yeah, that was nice.

Palm-sized really was ideal.

Too big would be—no, wait, what was I even talking about?

My pods had essentially become stealth drones.

I immediately informed the ambassador of the contents and asked him to send the information back to the homeland and request investigation by spies.

I also informed Antonio, telling him I would be returning to Adros for a bit.

And so, at the Beast-Ear Garden, where I was temporarily returning home—

“Yaaay, Headmaster-sensei! You’re back already? Souveniiirs!”

The little ones who had been waiting for my return all swarmed me at once.

After fluffing some ears to relax myself and handing out Imperial sweets, I looked for the security staff.

Then I used teleportation magic to pull Ed away and headed to the Glass Garden.

“What did you say? The Empire is finally targeting the Beast-Ear Garden?”

“Yes. I want you to be more careful than ever. Ideally, I would like to hire B-rank guards, but the enemy side also has adventurers. Twenty B-rank adventurers—nearly ten percent of the exam participants—are assassins targeting Antonio. I had heard rumors like that, but this is troublesome. If we carelessly hire adventurers as reinforcements, we might drag a venomous snake straight into the garden. They are probably planning to attack us. I’ll go consult the Guildmaster.”

After sending Ed back to the Beast-Ear Garden, I headed to the guild in the Royal Capital.

I teleported directly into the Guildmaster’s office.

The room was always simple, yet it never felt barren.

Perhaps because Armon, the room’s owner, had a rough personality, it felt pleasantly cluttered.

Though the meticulous Sub-Guildmaster, Legg-san, apparently complained about that.

After all, this was the Adventurers’ Guild in the capital of a great nation.

And moreover, the birthplace of the illustrious Adventurers’ Guild itself.

When I appeared via teleportation magic, the Guildmaster pulled a sour face.

“Hey! I told you countless times not to abuse teleportation magic.”

I noticed there was already a visitor present.

Oh—damn.

But when I looked closer, it was a familiar face.

“Yo! Isn’t that Alphonse? Long time no see.”

It was Ars—the one I had met when I first came to the Royal Capital.