There are two kinds of work in this world.

“Commander, sir! We need your decision on whether to distribute alcohol to the surrendered Knights—”

“You handle that.”

Work that can be left to others.

And work that must be done by me, even if the sky falls.

“May I enter, milady?”

“Drop the gentleman act. It doesn’t suit you.”

“Lady Andromeda seems to like it. A pity.”

“That woman still has such tastes? Vulgar as ever.”

The interrogation of the enemy’s supreme commander fell into the latter category.

On the day after a single battle had brought nearly a year of the Mutated Beast crisis to a halt, I once again brought coffee and pastries to Erica’s tent.

‘I’ll be stepping out of this whole matter. I don’t care who planned it or who pushed it. I don’t know Rykenta’s internal affairs. Whoever you name as the true instigator — I’ll submit that report exactly as is.’

‘You mean my testimony will be the only evidence Astreos accepts?’

After yesterday’s conversation, she had smiled in triumph.

I did not misread that smile.

“So, what is it you want confirmed today?”

Erica seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“I want to emphasize the transmissibility of the Mutated Beasts. That way, the high lords of the house cannot dismiss the severity of this.”

“Cannot deny it. Good phrasing.”

She raised her hand.

Her attendants brought a silver tray covered with a cloth.

“When the Elders first gave this to me, there wasn’t much of it.”

She lifted the cloth.

The same clear, viscous liquid with black branching veins suspended within — the secretion from a Mutated Beast’s nasal passages.

Injected into a beast, it raised physical power, agility, durability, and awakened mental-wave manipulation.

According to the letters, Lady Andromeda was already working on some elixir based on this.

So why does she still have any of it?

I made a mental note: once the interrogation ended, I would have Peijin strip this place bare.

“Not much, you said?”

“From what I heard, they work in cells. If you think of this as a weapon, mass-production is the key. But they can’t mass-produce it. So they had to make it by hand, one by one.”

I understood.

“It’s like an armour district where one smith makes only helmets, another only greaves, so they can assemble plate armour quickly. But your people can’t do that. So production is slow and limited.”

“Exactly. So I had to increase it myself.”

“Increase?”

She lifted another cloth.

Inside the glass container were two frogs, separated by a divider. They could hear each other, but not touch.

“Watch.”

The first frog was already mutated.

“It works on ordinary creatures too?”

“It works on humans. Why wouldn’t it work on animals?”

The frog’s body was covered in black-veined ridges, bony spurs pushing through the skin.

[“Ribbit.”]

“Ribbit.”

Each time the mutated frog called out, the second one shuddered.

On its body, faint black veins began to rise.

“You see how it spreads, yes?”

Erica smiled like a small shadow under the burning sun.

“Prolonged exposure to the mental wave triggers spontaneous mutation. After that, you simply harvest new secretion from the new host. Or inject directly.”

“So there are two methods. Origin secretion creates the first mutation, that mutation spreads to new hosts, then those new hosts produce more secretion.”

I kept my emotion buried.

A pathogen. Once it spreads, it burrows into hosts and multiplies. So the scale in the dream was possible.

A flicker of grim satisfaction rose.

If it’s that transmissible, even Trisayne cannot write this off. My achievement will be undeniable.

“And once a few rounds of that are done, the numbers rise on their own. The mutated ones generate the mental wave, not just static power.”

“Mental wave? Not just mental force?”

“Oh, your house calls it force? But wave is correct. A wave moves. It propagates.”

“How much did we really seize? More remains, doesn’t it?”

“A great deal was seized. I never expected to return alive. But simply raiding one beast colony yields over a hundred vials. There was no need to be stingy.”

“How did you control them? The flute?”

“A flute tuned to a specific frequency. The Elders provided it. The material and resonance pattern were too unusual to replicate.”

“Already thinking of copying it?”

“With the number you seized? You must see the problem. There weren’t enough flutes even for my Navigators. I gave up my own share to supply them.”

“Of course. You didn’t even need a flute to generate the sound. Very well. I understand.”

This would go in my report.

“We’ll stop for today.”

I stood.

“One request.”

She caught my sleeve.

“What is it?”

“It’s my first time being a prisoner. I may have spoken improperly earlier. I will sign and seal documents ordering unconditional surrender from all my Navigators. Will you accept them?”

Pure-blooded nobles always carried starlight in their eyes.

But Erica’s gaze now was clear, calm water — the lake that showed everything beneath its surface.

“That is unexpected.”

I spoke honestly.

“Every Navigator carries their own wind. Some run, some drift, some sink. My voyage ends here for now. Theirs doesn’t have to.”

Her resignation was almost elegant.

And I admired it.

“So be it.”

It also solved a real problem. A dozen Navigators driven into desperation would have been dangerous.

I spent the next week extracting information and then tied the fully compiled report to the courier-drake’s leg.

The Imperial capital of Astrion. The Audience Hall.

“…and so I commissioned engraved-workshops to attempt flute replication.”

Lady Andromeda had just finished speaking.

For Trisayne, it was like a blade being drawn across his nerves.

That useless fat pig Gracus!

It meant Gracus had failed to prevent my victory.

But he could not roar.

“Then only one step remains before official recognition of the incident?”

“If he captured Erica of Rykentrion Rykenta, then yes.”

“Bring him to the capital. She must testify before the High Archbishop.”

The table of astral lords and ministers vibrated with approval.

The Patriarch, Prince Pellaeus himself, laughed.

“Well done. Truly well done. My son, indeed.”

Trisayne swallowed acid.

Praises followed.

The Patriarch lifted a hand.

“Enough celebration. Strategy first. Rykenta Elders cooperating with a secret faction to produce Mutated Beasts—this cannot be ignored.”

Proposals poured out: dismantle clandestine groups, purge frontier free-cities, bait their contacts, sever trade networks.

The Patriarch nodded.

Then Lady Andromeda spoke:

“I already instructed the engraver-workshops to analyze the secretion. How it functions. How to neutralize it. And how we can weaponize it.”

Trisayne saw it clearly:

The Patriarch was pleased with her, not with him.

She took the stage.
And Kyrie had given her the proof first.

Trisayne’s face twisted.

The meeting ended.

Lady Andromeda stepped outside, radiating triumph.

Trisayne was ahead, face tight with rage.

“Surprised?” she asked softly.

“You,” he said, voice low.

“Should have listened better.”

“You’ll regret this.”

He tried to walk away.

She only whistled, bright and careless.

Kyrie.

Her chest warmed.

She returned to the Sub-Patriarch’s residence and summoned her retainers.

“Report.”

One after another, they spoke.

At last — the message she’d been waiting for:

“…the prototype of the Thunder-Body Elixir is complete.”

Her eyelashes trembled faintly.

“Handmaid. The Thunder Elixir I received earlier.”

“Yes, milady.”

“Send it to Kyrie.”

Chapter 77

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