“I am in awe of Your Majesty’s teachings! At first, I thought it was merely an excuse to cast me aside... but I lacked faith! Please forgive this unworthy servant!”

At first, I thought it was a poorly crafted prank. I assumed it was an attempt to entertain her with some clever wit. So instead of scolding, I played along.

However... it wasn’t long before I realized the disciple’s discovery was genuine and truthful.

“As Your Majesty predicted, all things are fundamentally one. Just as our craftsmen use various types of iron but all stem from a single origin, everything is composed of a singular essence! In some pure form that constitutes matter itself! Naturally, it can be transformed!”

The disciple was utterly convinced that Elik had already grasped the truth and had posed this problem as a means of sharing that understanding with others. Hence, every time he saw Elik, he would deliver elaborate explanations.

But Elik had no idea what he was talking about.

It was, by all accounts, nonsense. How could one possibly turn iron into gold?

Iron could be forged into weapons, but even then, it remained iron in weapon form. Mixing other metals to create alloys was akin to kneading sesame seeds into flour dough—it wasn’t the same as turning wheat dough into rice or buckwheat dough. The latter would be called something other than a craft—fraud, perhaps.

Elik, who wielded the power of the king, understood this clearly. Yet what the disciple spoke of went far beyond what she—or any human—had ever comprehended.

“When I lacked faith, I couldn’t even imagine it. But once Your Majesty enlightened me, my eyes were opened! Whether it’s an impossibly tiny particle or something flowing like water, I cannot say. Perhaps it’s so minuscule it bears no resemblance to any form we recognize. Like fine sand slipping through rocks as if it were water!”

She didn’t know.

In a world where everything had been neatly divided into the possible and impossible, an intruder had appeared. She didn’t know. None of the knowledge she possessed came close to grasping even a fragment of what he described.

Yet for someone who had ruled her entire life, declaring “I don’t know” was not an option. It would mean denying the name Elik, a title handed down since ancient times, and the authority it encompassed.

Hiding her faltering expression, Yuria Elik replied.

“You’ve observed well. I had speculated along similar lines myself, though not as deeply as you.”
“Of course, Your Majesty has countless duties. Merely being the first to grasp Your Majesty’s intent is an honor beyond measure!”

Not at all. She had no such intent. The disciple was simply deluded.

“Can you show me this form you speak of?”
“Well… I’ve considered it, but… just as melting pure steel requires a furnace, extracting this pure form would require a forge hundreds of times hotter than any we know. Perhaps Your Majesty might…”

There was no need to say more. As one who possessed the king’s power, she already knew the answer.

Impossible. Humanity’s current technology couldn’t achieve it.

“It cannot be done. Even if you reached the required temperature, the forge itself would melt.”
“As expected… Then, there’s no choice but to use Unique Magic as a shortcut. Your Majesty’s wisdom can only be brought to the world through Unique Magic.”

If Unique Magic was the only path, Elik could not follow it. She shook her head.

“It is impossible for me. Those with the king’s power cannot master Unique Magic.”

It was the truth. Those with the king’s power were inherently unsuited for Unique Magic. Their overwhelming authority consumed the talent needed to manifest such power.

However, this truth also concealed another:

Elik didn’t just lack the talent—she couldn’t even grasp the principles behind it.

They say the king does not understand the hearts of the people, but neither can the people fathom the heart of the king. The disciple, who revered Elik endlessly, misunderstanding her intentions entirely, exclaimed:

“Then… I shall become Your Majesty’s Unique Magic myself!”
“…Would you really do that?”
“This too is a blessing bestowed by Your Majesty. I shall dedicate my life to using this power for Your Majesty’s sake!”

Elik let out a hollow laugh.

Without being taught, without being guided, the disciple had reached this point through a simple misunderstanding. Surpassing even the king’s authority, he had ventured into a realm beyond humanity’s reach.

Perhaps boredom was a luxurious emotion. Compared to this sense of helplessness, inferiority, and twisted satisfaction…

“I shall permit it.”
“Thank you!”
“Furthermore… spread your discovery far and wide, Demo.”

Beaming with joy at being recognized by the monarch he revered, Demo bowed deeply.

“At once!”

In the years that followed, a new group emerged in the Golden Nation—alchemists. Engineers trained under Demo succeeded in transmuting steel into gold. Naturally, these alchemists rose to prominence, gaining wealth and power, becoming the true influencers of the Golden Nation.

Where there is light, there is shadow. As the alchemists ascended, the blacksmiths and craftsmen who had formed the backbone of the Golden Nation endured harsh times. No matter how skilled, they couldn’t compete with alchemists who could produce gold directly.

Still, it didn’t seem to matter. The Golden Nation’s gold spread across the world, returning as vast wealth. Even the scraps left by the alchemists allowed the nation to revel in luxury. Renowned artisans abandoned their craft, drowning in alcohol as time slipped by.

The growing fractures in society were concealed beneath the glitter of gold and silk, as the Golden Nation plunged into endless decadence.

And then, one day.

“Uh… our shop won’t be accepting gold anymore.”

Collapse arrived quietly, as it always does, but with certainty.

“It’s just too much. There’s more gold than grain at this point. Please pay with something else….”

Who could have foreseen it?

Gold—the symbol of wealth for centuries, used as currency worldwide and valued as a catalyst for magic—had become more abundant than stones. Humanity, once obsessed with gold, began to treat it like dirt.

Economic logic overturned millennia of established value. For the first time in history, gold was devalued to the point of chaos. No one had anticipated it, and no one was prepared. Naturally, no one had a solution. The resulting turmoil was uncontrollable.

“Please, buy my gold!”
“I have this much gold—why won’t you accept it?”
“Bandits? Hire mercenaries! Offer them all the gold we have... What? They won’t take it?”

The tower built on gold collapsed in an instant. Simply losing trust in gold rendered all the gold within the Golden Nation worthless, a burden rather than a treasure. It was a feat no alchemist had ever accomplished.

Nothing had changed, yet everyone became impoverished simultaneously, leading to widespread unrest. People no longer fought over the logic of gold. Instead, they picked up weapons made of steel. The artisans who had lost their wealth and influence to the alchemists rose once more with the advent of the Age of Steel.

The first thing those wielding weapons did was attack the alchemists. They slaughtered the alchemists, whom they deemed responsible for all of this chaos, and seized their wealth. Up until that point, alchemists had been nothing more than technicians who transformed steel into gold, utterly untrained in combat. Consequently, they were helpless against the relentless attacks. The gold they had relied on and the wealth they had amassed could not save their lives.

Nationwide hunts and executions of alchemists ensued. Gold, stained with blood, scattered across the ground. A sudden storm of violence swept through the Golden Nation.

“Demo, the traitor, hear me. Your foolish actions have plunged this nation into ruin. Unforgivable.”

Even Demo, the first alchemist, could not escape the inferno.

“Shackle his neck and bind him with an iron ball. Then, whip him and send him to wander the Golden Nation. Let the people judge his fate.”

In a time when hatred for alchemists reached its peak, the creator of alchemy himself would die beneath the stones cast by the people.

The king of the Golden Nation, Yuria Elik, coldly pronounced Demo’s death sentence, gazing down at him with icy eyes.

+++

Yes, I felt it. This memory resembles the past I glimpsed deep beneath the Abyss.
There is such a thing as lingering thoughts. When a person who has reached a certain level of mastery dies, their magic and energy can remain long after death. Sometimes, these remnants force a body to mimic the habits of its life.

Whether through cremation, burial, or the destruction of the body, such remnants typically disappear once the physical form is undone. However, if the original form remains intact through some method, the thoughts persist—like at the bottom of the Abyss.

And... much like in this Golden Palace.

The question is: why do I sense King Elik’s thoughts instead of those of the Golden Mirror?

“Tir, what do you think? Do you sense anything... Tir?”

Wait. Where’s my bodyguard?

She was beside me earlier, walking with me. When did she disappear? What’s going on? A quick read of her thoughts suggests she’s nearby.

But more than that... something feels off.

We just passed through a cornfield. Why is there a clearing here?

Even though the tall corn surrounded me earlier, there wasn’t any such wide-open space before. All I should have seen beyond the corn was more corn. Yet after pushing aside the last stalk, a clearing appeared out of nowhere.

It was an idyllic sight. A large village hall, doubling as a barn, stood before me. It bore no decorations, yet its plain appearance exuded a rustic charm. Behind it, a gentle hill sloped upward, with a stream babbling softly beyond it. The creaking of a waterwheel filled the air.

A typical countryside scene.

Naturally, none of this was visible from the outside. It felt as if I’d stepped into another world.

While I was looking around, farmers emerged from the cornfield behind me.

The farmers, arms full of corn, headed toward the barn. Silently, they began stacking the corn inside before returning to the fields for more, moving like worker ants.

Yet I sensed no presence from them. Their thoughts were unreadable.

Because all of them working here were homunculi.

“You! How did you enter the Golden Palace?”

An old man wearing a straw hat gawked at me in shock. It was none other than the Suppressionist Overseer, Hecto. As expected, he had ties to the Golden Palace.

‘How did you make it here? It shouldn’t even be visible from the outside!’

Reading his thoughts confirmed he was the original. That’s how I found my way here.

“You said you’d give me until tomorrow! This is a breach of contract!”
“What are you talking about? I was just exploring the cornfield and happened to wander here. Are you saying this is the Golden Palace?”
“What…!”

Flustered, Hecto quickly regained his composure and shouted.

“Don’t lie! How could you coincidentally stumble upon the Golden Palace, hidden in this vast cornfield and guarded by sentinels? That’s absurd!”

Clever. But so what? Other than accusing me of lying, what else can you do? If you can’t prove I’m lying, it means I’m telling the truth.

“It really was a coincidence. I was merely scouting and ended up here. If you had revealed the palace’s location, I wouldn’t have stumbled upon it by chance.”
“You came scouting in the first place with the intent to find it!”
“Nope. Did you crawl into my head to check for yourself?”

If you could do that, you’d be the king of humans instead. Refusing to budge, I stood firm, leaving Hecto fuming in silence.

And then.

“Enough. Let him come.”

The door to the village hall creaked open, and a woman stepped out.

Her dazzling golden hair gleamed as if molten gold had been poured over it, tied back in a simple ponytail. Her fitted clothes weren’t designed to flaunt her figure but to prevent any loose fabric from hindering her work. She wore leather gloves and boots that reached her ankles, her sharp gaze cutting through me.

“Are you the Golden Mirror?”
“No. But you must have something to say to me.”
“I came to negotiate peace with the Golden Mirror. How can I know who you are?”

The woman placed a hand over her chest and introduced herself.

“I am Yuria Elik, the Golden Overseer of the Golden Nation. The Sovereign of Understanding.”

The ruler of the Golden Nation, a monarch capable of replicating all the world’s techniques.

And the king consumed by the monster of comprehension.

“And also, the Golden Palace itself.”

Yuria Elik’s homunculus declared boldly.