Chapter : 1649

  "Pain is a warning signal," she recited. "It indicates damage. I am not damaged. Yet I register pain."

  "It's phantom pain," Lloyd said. "It's the ghost of the limb you lost."

  The ceremony ended. The neighbors dispersed, casting curious glances at the noble lord and his silent maid. Lloyd ignored them. He walked to the grave. He placed a single white lily on the fresh dirt.

  "Goodbye, Mrs. Weaver," he whispered. "I'm sorry I lied. But I'll make it true. I'll bring her back."

  He turned away. "Let's go."

  They returned to the carriage. Ken was waiting. He looked at Lloyd, a silent question in his eyes.

  "It's done," Lloyd said.

  They drove back to the estate in silence. The mood was heavy. Lloyd felt the weight of his vows pressing down on him. He had promised to save the kingdom. He had promised to save Risa. Now he had promised to resurrect the dead. He was making checks his soul couldn't cash.

  When they arrived at the estate, Lloyd didn't go to the main house. He didn't go to the manufactory. He went to the training grounds.

  "Ken," Lloyd said. "Clear the grounds. I need space."

  "Understood," Ken said. He didn't ask why. He just signaled the guards to leave.

  Lloyd stood in the center of the training arena. The rain had stopped, but the ground was muddy.

  "Jasmin," Lloyd said. "Front and center."

  The Spirit walked to the center of the ring. She stood at attention.

  "You said you are a weapon," Lloyd said. "Show me."

  "Combat mode?" she asked.

  "Yes. Full power. Don't hold back. I want to see what I bought."

  "Target?"

  "Me," Lloyd said.

  The Spirit hesitated. "Protocol forbids attacking the User."

  "Override," Lloyd commanded. "Authorization code: Ferrum Zero. Attack me. Try to kill me."

  The Spirit’s eyes flashed. "Override accepted. Combat protocols engaged."

  Her demeanor changed instantly. The slouch was gone. The hesitation was gone. She shifted her stance, her feet digging into the mud. Her skin shimmered and turned into a faceted, diamond-hard armor.

  "Engaging," she said.

  She moved.

  It wasn't movement; it was displacement. One second she was ten feet away, the next she was in his personal space. Her arm, transformed into a diamond lance, thrust at his throat.

  Lloyd barely reacted in time. He used a [Void Step] to flicker backward, the wind of her strike cutting his cheek.

  "Fast," Lloyd noted. "Faster than the original."

  She didn't pause. She spun, her leg transforming into a heavy crystal mace. She swept low, aiming to crush his knees.

  Lloyd jumped, using his Steel Blood to reinforce his legs. He landed on her sweeping leg, pinning it to the ground.

  "Is that all?" he taunted.

  The Spirit looked up. Her face was blank. Her arm shifted again, turning into a multi-barreled construct.

  Pew. Pew. Pew.

  She fired shards of diamond like bullets. Lloyd deflected them with a summoned steel wall, the shards embedding themselves deep in the metal.

  "Ranged capability confirmed," Lloyd muttered.

  He dropped the wall and charged. He wanted to test her durability. He reinforced his fist with B-Rank Steel Blood and punched her square in the chest.

  CLANG.

  It was like punching a mountain. His hand went numb. She didn't even stumble. The diamond armor absorbed the kinetic energy, dispersed it through her crystalline structure, and reflected it back.

  A shockwave threw Lloyd backward. He skidded in the mud, gasping.

  "Reflective carapace," he wheezed. "Nice."

  She advanced. She didn't run; she glided. She raised her hand, and the air around her distorted. Light bent. She vanished.

  "Invisibility?" Lloyd said, activating his [All-Seeing Eye].

  He scanned the arena. He saw her heat signature... no, he didn't. She didn't have heat. He saw her mana signature. She was flanking him.

  He spun around and caught her wrist just as she tried to stab him in the kidney.

  "Got you," he growled.

  She looked at him. "Tactical error: Engaging grappler."

  Her skin spiked. Hundreds of razor-sharp diamond thorns erupted from her body. Lloyd yelled and let go, his hands bleeding.

  She kicked him in the chest, sending him flying into the mud. He lay there, staring up at the sky.

  "Combat simulation ended," the Spirit announced. "User incapacitated."

  Lloyd laughed. It was a wet, painful sound.

  "You're a monster," he said. "You're perfect."

  She walked over to him and offered a hand to help him up. Her skin was smooth again.

  "I am the Diamond Queen," she said. "I am your shield."

  Lloyd took her hand. She pulled him up effortlessly.

  Chapter : 1650

  "You're not her," Lloyd said quietly. "She would have apologized. She would have cried because she hurt me."

  "I detected no structural damage to your vital organs," the Spirit said. "Apology illogical."

  "Yeah," Lloyd said. "Illogical."

  He looked at her. She was a masterpiece of magic. A perfect soldier. Fearless. Painless. Efficient.

  But she was cold.

  "We're done," Lloyd said. "Go to the lab. Stand by."

  "Affirmative."

  She turned and walked away. Lloyd watched her go. He felt a profound sense of loneliness. He had the perfect weapon, but he had lost his friend.

  ________________________________________

  Lloyd didn't go back to the lab. He went to his study. He poured himself a drink, his hands still stinging from the diamond thorns.

  He sat at his desk and pulled out the Anubis journals again. He was obsessed.

  "He did it," Lloyd muttered. "He brought the memory back. The Golem... she remembered her father. She remembered her life. How?"

  He scoured the text. He read the footnotes. He read the margins.

  He found a section he had glossed over before. It was about the "Soul Catcher" array Anubis had used.

  The Soul Catcher acts as a net. It holds the consciousness in suspension. But the net must be anchored. It must be anchored to a place of deep resonance.

  "Resonance," Lloyd whispered.

  He thought about the tear. The tear the Spirit had shed.

  "The resonance is there," he realized. "The body... the Spirit body... it remembers. The shape remembers. The muscle memory. The emotional pathways. It's all there, locked in the data."

  He stood up and paced.

  "But the key is missing. The soul. The driver."

  He looked at the map of the continent on his wall. He traced the path to the west. To the border of the Devil lands.

  "The Abyss," he said. "Chaotic resonance. It breaks the Divine Law."

  He understood now. The Divine Law was a firewall. It prevented souls from coming back. But the Abyss... the Abyss was a virus. It corrupted the firewall.

  "If I can get a piece of the Abyss," Lloyd theorized. "A pure piece. Not just a corrupted bat or a cursed sword. But a piece of the realm itself. A Soul Stone from Hell."

  He could use it to break the lock on the Spirit's memory. He could force the System to download the soul from the ether.

  It was necromancy. It was heresy. It was exactly the kind of thing he would do.

  "But I can't go yet," he said, slamming his hand on the map. "The war. The plague. Risa. I have too many fires to put out."

  He slumped in his chair. He had to wait. He had to be patient.

  "Patience," he hissed. "I hate patience."

  There was a knock on the door. It was Mina.

  "Lloyd?" she called. "Are you in there? You missed dinner."

  "I'm not hungry," Lloyd said.

  The door opened anyway. Mina walked in. She saw the books. She saw the map. She saw the look in his eyes.

  "You're planning something dangerous," she said. It wasn't a question.

  "I'm planning a rescue mission," Lloyd said. "To Hell."

  Mina sighed. She walked over and took the glass from his hand. She took a sip.

  "Of course you are. But not today."

  "No," Lloyd agreed. "Not today."

  "Today, you need to rest. You buried a mother today. You fought a diamond robot. You're exhausted."

  "I'm fine."

  "You're not fine. You're vibrating."

  She put the glass down and pulled him up from the chair.

  "Come on," she said. "Bed. Real bed. Not the floor."

  Lloyd let her lead him. He was too tired to argue.

  They went to his bedroom. He collapsed onto the bed, fully clothed. Mina sat next to him, running her fingers through his hair.

  "She cried," Lloyd whispered. "The Spirit. She cried."

  "I know," Mina said softly. "I saw."

  "That means she's in there, Mina. She's trapped in the machine."

  "We'll get her out," Mina promised. "We'll figure it out. But you need to sleep. You can't fight the Devil King if you're asleep on your feet."

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  Lloyd nodded. His eyes drifted shut.

  "Mina," he mumbled.

  "Yes?"

  "Don't let me turn into a robot."

  "I won't," she said. She kissed his forehead. "I'll keep you human. Even if it kills me."

  Lloyd fell asleep. He dreamed of a diamond girl standing in a river of fire, waiting for him to take her hand.

  And in the dream, he didn't hesitate. He walked into the fire. Because that's what you do for the people you love. You burn for them.

  Chapter : 1651

  The command bunker was buried deep beneath the Ferrum estate. It was a place of cold stone, recycled air, and the low hum of magical lights that flickered just enough to be annoying. The air smelled of stale coffee and ozone. It was not a place for glorious speeches or knighting ceremonies. It was a place where math was done, and usually, the math involved how many people were going to die.

  Lloyd sat at the head of a heavy iron table. He looked tired. Not the kind of tired you get from a long run, but the kind of tired that settles in your bones when you realize the world is stupid and you are the only one with the instruction manual. He tapped his finger against a stack of papers.

  Opposite him sat Ken Park, his bodyguard and spymaster, looking as stoic as a statue carved from granite. Next to Ken was Rolf, the Head of Security. Rolf was a good man. He was big, he was strong, and he knew how to hit things with other things. He was a traditional soldier who believed in honor, formation, and the idea that having a bigger sword meant you were right.

  "So," Lloyd said, his voice flat. "We are going to lose."

  Rolf blinked. He shifted in his chair, the leather creaking under his massive frame. "My Lord? We have fortified the borders. The new rifles are being produced. The men are training day and night. Morale is high."

  "Morale is great," Lloyd said. "Morale is fantastic. But morale doesn't stop a Devil King from turning you into a fine red mist by looking at you funny."

  Lloyd stood up and walked to a blackboard. He picked up a piece of chalk. He drew a stick figure. He wrote 'US' above it. Then he drew a giant, angry circle with teeth. He wrote 'THEM' above it.

  "This is the current situation," Lloyd explained. "We are fighting an enemy that defies physics. They have magic that rots souls. They have skin harder than steel. And what do we have? We have knights who spent ten years learning how to swing a sword really elegantly."

  "Our Spirit Users are elite," Rolf argued, a bit defensive. "The Ferrum House Guard has some of the best C-Rank and B-Rank users in the North."

  "And that is exactly the problem," Lloyd said, turning around. "Spirit Users are arrogant. They are used to being the hammer. They summon their spirit, they blast the enemy, and they go home to drink wine. They rely on their spiritual pressure to protect them. They rely on their shields."

  Lloyd leaned forward, his eyes cold. "But the Devils have anti-magic. We saw it with the Lodestone. We saw it with the Soul Catcher. When you strip a Spirit User of their magic, what are they?"

  Rolf frowned. "They are... still warriors."

  "No," Lloyd corrected. "They are slow, soft targets in fancy armor. They don't know how to dodge because they never had to. They don't know how to run because they were taught to stand their ground. In this war, standing your ground means you die."

  Lloyd went back to the table and slammed his hand down on the papers. "I am building a new unit. The Titan Squad."

  Rolf sat up straighter. "Titan Squad. It sounds powerful. I will compile a list of our top A-Rank candidates. We can pull veterans from the border legions. Maybe even hire some mercenaries if their cores are strong enough."

  "No," Lloyd said.

  Rolf paused. "No? Then... B-Rank? We shouldn't go lower than that for an elite unit, My Lord."

  "Rolf, listen to me very carefully," Lloyd said, speaking slowly as if explaining quantum physics to a golden retriever. "I do not want A-Ranks. I do not want B-Ranks. I do not want anyone who has ever successfully cast a fireball in their life. I want you to recruit people with a Spirit Core rank of F. Or lower, if that’s even possible. I want the people who have zero magical talent."

  Rolf looked at Ken, hoping for support. Ken just stared at the wall, his face unreadable. Rolf looked back at Lloyd. "My Lord, with all due respect, have you hit your head recently? You want to fight Devils... with peasants? F-Rank users can barely light a candle."

  Chapter : 1652

  "Exactly," Lloyd said, a small, terrifying smile playing on his lips. "Because they can't light a candle, they had to learn other things. They had to learn how to run. How to hide. How to see a punch coming before it’s thrown because if it hits them, they don't have a magical shield to save them. They have to survive on instinct and reflexes."

  Lloyd paced the room. "The Aegis system I am building... it doesn't run on the pilot's magic. It runs on the Golem Heart. It provides the power. It provides the armor. I don't need a battery. I need a pilot."

  "But surely a trained knight would be a better pilot," Rolf insisted. "They have discipline."

  "They have bad habits," Lloyd countered. "A knight sees an attack and thinks, 'I will block this with my honor and my shield.' An Aegis pilot needs to see an attack and think, 'If that touches me, I am dead, so I need to be three meters to the left, now.' I need cowards, Rolf. I need rats. I need the people who survive in the gutters because they are faster and smarter than the people trying to stomp on them."

  Rolf looked horrified. "You want to build an elite unit... out of cowards?"

  "I want to build a unit out of survivors," Lloyd said. "High-level mages have egos. They think they are gods. They will try to override the system. They will try to use their own power. And they will get killed. I need operators who know they are weak. Because they know they are weak, they will respect the machine. They will use the machine to become strong. They will have a desperate, hungry lack of ego."

  Lloyd picked up the chalk again and drew a line through the word 'US'.

  "We are rewriting the doctrine of war," Lloyd said. "We aren't looking for heroes. Heroes die gloriously. I am looking for operators. Operators kill the enemy and come home for dinner. Do you understand the difference?"

  Rolf rubbed his temples. "I... I think so. But where do we find such people? The army rejects anyone below D-Rank."

  "Exactly," Lloyd said. "The army throws them away. The Academy expels them. Society ignores them. They are invisible. And that is why they are perfect."

  He turned to Ken. "Ken, you know where to look."

  Ken Park finally moved. He nodded once, a sharp, precise motion. "The slums. The underground gambling dens. The lists of squire washouts."

  "Precisely," Lloyd said. "I want you to scour the capital and the northern territories. Do not look for muscle. If I see a guy with muscles like a mountain, send him to the infantry. I don't want him. He relies on his strength."

  Lloyd began to list the criteria on his fingers. "One: Reflexes. I want the guy who can catch a fly with chopsticks not because he trained in a dojo, but because the fly was annoying him. Two: Perception. I want the girl who knows the guard is coming around the corner before she hears his footsteps. Three: desperation. I don't want patriots. I don't want people fighting for the glory of the King or the flag. I want people who are fighting because they have nothing else. People who are hungry."

  Rolf looked at the list Lloyd was writing down. It looked less like a military recruitment form and more like a list of symptoms for a nervous breakdown.

  "My Lord," Rolf said, trying one last time. "These people... they will have no discipline. They will be thieves, liars, cheats."

  "Good," Lloyd said. "War is lying. War is cheating. If you aren't cheating, you aren't trying to win. A knight fights fair. A survivor fights to live. I want the person who throws sand in the Devil's eyes. I want the person who plays dead and then shoots the enemy in the back. The Aegis is a weapon of mass destruction, Rolf. It doesn't need honor. It needs a target and someone crazy enough to pull the trigger."

  Lloyd sat back down, the chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. He looked at his two subordinates. "The Devil Race... they are strong. Individually, they are stronger than us. Their magic is older. Their bodies are tougher. If we play by their rules, we lose. We have been playing by their rules for centuries. 'My spirit against your spirit.' It's a game of numbers, and they have bigger numbers."