What felt off to me first was the small hill visible in the distance. A very ordinary, everyday sight, with ridges stretching into the horizon.

Except that such a hill hadn’t existed before I arrived at the Golden Palace.

A scene unseen from the outside—was it reality, or an illusion? Without any special abilities, I’d need mind-reading to discern the truth. But at this moment, I had no way to figure it out.

Because none of the beings within this Golden Palace were alive!

The only living human here, Hecto, pointed at me and said,

“Golden Overseer, it’s him.”

Elik stared at me. I nonchalantly observed her—or rather, it. I tried to read its expression.

Residual thoughts aren’t alive. While they bear traces of the humans they once were, allowing for some level of understanding, they can’t be read as perfectly as living humans. In other words, my mind-reading ability was effectively sealed.

Alone in the heart of enemy territory, without even the aid of mind-reading. This situation might actually be dangerous.

As I debated whether I should make a run for it, Elik pulled out a notebook, read something from it, and spoke.

“You claim to be an envoy here for armistice negotiations.”
“That’s correct. It seems you wish to avoid conflict over the Abyssal Plains.”
“…The so-called land of opportunity where the Abyss once lay.”

She flipped through her notebook again, scanning its contents. I tried to catch a glimpse of the pages from behind, but their contents remained hidden.

If my mind-reading were working normally, I’d know exactly what was written in Elik’s notebook, what she was thinking now, what she planned to do, her likes and dislikes, and even what had happened in her past. But at this moment, there was no discernible response from Elik.

All that lingered was the ancient regret of a king whose decisions had once led to the Golden Nation’s downfall.

What on earth had happened here? I wanted to know more, but with mind-reading out of commission, I was stuck.

As I pondered, Elik—or the residual thoughts resembling her—finished some sort of judgment and spoke again.

“Suppressionist Overseer, what is your opinion?”

There was no hesitation as she addressed the elderly Hecto in an informal tone. Even in death, the body of a king retained an air of majesty.

Hecto, accustomed to this demeanor, respectfully raised his tone when addressing the young-looking woman.

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea. The Heat Nation has spent too long without properly cultivating their lands. Even if we handed seeds to these jackals, they’d likely squander them on a single meal. It would be more reasonable to let the Military Nation cultivate the land and take a portion for ourselves….”
“You are wrong.”

Elik dismissed his suggestion without room for argument. Hecto fell silent. As he tried to gauge the intent behind the Golden Overseer’s words, Elik turned to me and extended a hand.

“The Abyssal Plains were originally the territory of the Golden Nation. They have been since the beginning of the nation and will remain so.”

The Golden Nation...? A country long destroyed, why bring it up now?

“If you haven’t forgotten history, you should know that the Elik royal family used the Abyss as a graveyard for failures. Isn’t that so, envoy?”

Elik spoke with an air of defiance, as if she were still the reigning monarch. For someone supposedly “consumed” by the Golden Mirror, her composure seemed excessive.

Perhaps. If my suspicions were correct... But could they be?

I took a deep breath.

Let’s admit it: my trusty companion, mind-reading, was useless right now.

But mind-reading wasn’t my only power.

My mind-reading doesn’t work on anything other than human thoughts. It can’t read the minds of animals, predict tomorrow’s weather, or tell what seeds I planted will grow into. I’m no prophet.

However, humanity’s strength isn’t in mind-reading. Humanity’s true ability lies in its capacity to use every possible method to achieve a goal.

To investigate, deconstruct, predict, and utilize the world. Even when things go wrong, humans build on their failures to move forward again. “Impossible” is a verdict only made after all possibilities have been exhausted—and sometimes, over time, new possibilities arise.

Declaring something unachievable before trying is the work of prophets, not humans.

Let’s give it a shot. Starting with my hypothesis.

“You’re right. The artisans of the Golden Nation had a tradition of throwing ash and unusable scrap iron into the Abyss after burning firewood. Between the Kingdom and the Golden Nation, it was the Golden Nation that held more interest and exercised actual control over the Abyss.”
“Well-informed, I see.”
“But that was merely an issue between the Kingdom and the Golden Nation.”

The Golden Mirror is said to be a mystery of the Heat Nation, but... if that were the case, there would be no reason to call it the Golden Mirror.

The prefix “Golden” refers to gold. The suffix “Mirror” signifies a servant of the king.

In other words, the Golden Mirror inherently carries the legacy of the Golden Nation.

Why was it named so? Perhaps the Golden Mirror had never truly let go of the Golden Nation—or perhaps...

“The relationship between the Heat Nation and the Military Nation is exactly the opposite. Ever since the Heat Nation became a land of alchemy, they feared permanent loss of alchemical resources and avoided the Abyss. The Military Nation invested in the neglected land and achieved results, so wouldn’t they now hold a greater claim?”
“You speak as an envoy, emphasizing only your nation’s favorable points. Still, I shall correct your foolishness.”

I don’t care. Whether the Abyssal Plains belong to the Military Nation or the Heat Nation is irrelevant. What I need right now is information.

The Golden Mirror keeps creating things, but there’s something strange about them. Cornfields aside, the stone-built cities and towering fortresses are architectural relics that no longer align with modern trends. With the advent of alchemy, fortresses became obsolete. Yet the Golden Mirror, the very origin of alchemy, insists on building them.

The justification is that “the Golden Mirror made them,” but the question remains: why?

That question, however, can also be answered with one simple hypothesis.

“You are mistaken. This is the Golden Nation.”

Perhaps the Golden Mirror...

Is trying to recreate the Golden Nation on this land.

“That’s impossible. The Golden Nation was destroyed by the Golden Mirror!”
“You are mistaken. Here stands a king, a territory, and loyal subjects. These are the king, the land, and the people of the Golden Nation. Therefore, this is the Golden Nation.”
“The Golden Nation’s king, Elik, is dead—at the hands of the Golden Mirror! You are not King Elik!”
“I still exist. What would you call one who bears the memory, appearance, and abilities of the king?”

The most essential component of the Golden Nation was, of course, its king. For the Golden Mirror to recreate the Golden Nation, it first had to reconstitute King Elik.

Alright. I was starting to see the bigger picture. The Golden Overseer Elik was a homunculus, a creation of the Golden Mirror. That meant the Golden Mirror itself must be present somewhere in this space.

“I came as an envoy of the Heat Nation to negotiate with the Golden Mirror—not with King Elik of the Golden Nation. Summon the Golden Mirror. I will negotiate with it.”

Let’s call the Golden Mirror. If I could see it directly, all mysteries would be solved.

But Elik didn’t act as I hoped.

“How utterly disrespectful. Very well, I shall make things clearer for you.”

Elik extended her hand.

Alchemy transformed the earth, and a massive spear sprouted like a tree from the ground. Although common soil could not produce high-cost alchemical steel, this was the Golden Mirror’s domain, where outdated concepts like equivalent exchange didn’t apply.

Elik, holding the spear twice her height in one hand, leveled its cold, metallic point at my throat.

“Beheading an envoy is as clear a declaration of war as any. I’ll show you with action, not words.”

Oh no. Did I push too hard? Asking to summon the Golden Mirror must have struck a nerve!

“W-wait a minute! Do you even know who’s behind me?”
“It does not matter. I shall personally execute you.”
“No, Your Majesty! I’m serious!”

This was bad. If this homunculus got serious, I had no means to defend myself. Without my mind-reading, I couldn’t even plan an escape. If I still had it, I wouldn’t have asked to summon the Golden Mirror in the first place! Bring back my mind-reading!

Just then, Hecto, who had been quietly listening, hurriedly intervened.

“Please wait, Golden Overseer. Their forces are not to be underestimated.”

‘If the Verdant Overseer is correct, they’re allied with Tirkanjaka, the progenitor of vampires who wields dominion over blood. Dealing with such a being could prove troublesome. It may be better to send them back peacefully to the Principalities….’

But Elik ignored Hecto’s caution and tightened her grip on the spear.

“No matter who comes, it makes no difference. The Golden Nation shall endure as steel for eternity.”
“Guh….”

Should I fight? But I don’t even have a diamond card. How long can I hold out with just magic cards?

I was readying my cards and steeling myself for a desperate stand when—

Ding.

A clear, resonant chime echoed through the air.

The sound wasn’t loud, but the precision of its tone revealed it to be a meticulously crafted bell. Had it been made of steel instead of gold, it might have stirred the hearts of all who heard it.

Elik’s gaze shifted sharply. Her eyes turned toward the slowly opening door of the village hall. Through the crack came an innocent, almost playful voice.

“Your Majesty! It is finished!”

At that moment, it felt as though the entire world receded, pulling me away.

It wasn’t just a feeling. A thin, invisible barrier now separated me from them. The air itself solidified like glass, preventing my hand from moving any closer.

I probably couldn’t even make myself heard. Perhaps they couldn’t see me either. It was as though I had been completely excluded from their world.

This wasn’t just my imagination. The mere presence of this newcomer changed Elik and Hecto’s expressions. For the first time, Elik smiled warmly, her face lit with joy as she welcomed the owner of the voice.

“Demo.”

She spoke the name of the Golden Mirror.