The scavengers had found their moment of opportunity.

The Golden Mirror could create anything, but he didn’t make just anything. His alchemy was solely dedicated to the Golden Nation, and the works scattered across the Heat Nations were merely burial goods entombed with the Golden Nation. The scavengers, who survived by rummaging through those graves, were grateful even for the scraps they could collect.

But now, the Golden Mirror was preparing for war.

While war is not waged with money alone, it cannot be fought without it. Weapons, provisions, warhorses, supply carts—everything requires money. The Golden Mirror’s creations were always valuable, but nothing compared to the special demand created by war.

Initially, the scavengers were terrified by the call to prepare for war. Yet, when faced with the flood of wealth before them, their fear gave way to greed.

“This might actually be worth fighting for.”

“Damn, look at this! Just stealing one of these and selling it to another country would let me live it up for ten years!”

“Selling it? Ha! These days, even wanderers pay full price for this stuff! As long as you don’t get stabbed in the process, that is.”

There was a reason the Heatwave Overseer had hoped for war. War made the Heat Nations rich—not because they won battles, but because the Golden Mirror produced weapons.

Money behaves like a river, carrying along all sorts of floating debris in its current. The equipment crafted by the Golden Mirror was a treasure in itself, attracting scavengers like moths to a flame. Those who had planned to leave decided to stay, and the news spread quickly through wandering traders, eventually reaching all corners of the Heat Nations. Naturally, the scavengers began to band together, forming legions.

The legions of the Heat Nations. Their grand journey was just about to begin.

“Hey, hey! Look over there!”

“What’s with all the fuss… huh?”

As if to mark the beginning of the war, a massive serpent slithered across the ground.

The serpent, seemingly transmuted from the earth itself, was colossal. Its body was over three meters in diameter, and its length was immeasurable. Its scales, cracked like soil, were adorned with corn tassels sprouting like whiskers. The earthen serpent shook the land as it moved forward.

It was clearly a monster that defied natural order. In the southern great forest, there were rumors of snakes as large as houses, but at least those were made of flesh and blood. In contrast, this one was entirely artificial.

“A monster snake! Run for it!”

“Wait—it’s made of earth! Did someone create this? Who?”

The scavengers, about to flee, suddenly halted in their tracks.

“Hold on. A serpent made of earth? Isn’t that one of the Golden Mirror’s creations?”

“Yeah, no one else could make something like that.”

“So, it’s on our side, right? Is there someone controlling it?”

A reasonable assumption. I might have thought the same if I were in their position. The scavengers circled around the earthen serpent fearlessly. Since it paid them no attention, they became convinced it was an ally and quickly lost interest.

But unfortunately, their assumption was wrong. This serpent wasn’t created through alchemy—it was born of geomancy.

The regressor, standing atop the serpent’s head with Jizan embedded in it, thought to himself.

‘That’s right. In this iteration, Jizan acknowledged me. I don’t have to wield it like a sword. I can use it to fight through geomancy, just like Jiseon did in a previous timeline.’

Of course, he couldn’t rival Jiseon. The regressor hadn’t studied geomancy or gained a deep understanding of soil and sediment. This serpent was merely a crude imitation of Jiseon’s work, inspired by his memories of her. It lacked her full strength.

Still, the mass of soil—three meters in diameter—was very real. Wherever it crashed, it would have the intended effect.

‘…Even so, marching in so openly and confidently won’t raise suspicion. What kind of trickster is bold enough to pull something like this? Does he think he has infinite lives?’

Of course not. It’s because he only has one life that he’s choosing the best option. Fighting every human he encounters with this half-baked serpent wouldn’t work. Pretending to be a part of the Golden Mirror’s forces and moving forward calmly was the better strategy.

Of course, there was a chance the serpent might be attacked. If that happened, it would be by the Golden Mirror’s forces, and the regressor could prepare for battle then. Much simpler.

This is the right way to go about it. Overthinking and acting unnecessarily noble would be the real mistake. If the goal is to reach the Golden Mirror, then just go for it. As I silently praised myself for this plan, a voice interrupted my thoughts.

“…Why did you bring me along?”

It was Peru, addressing me directly.

Peru’s position among us was ambiguous. She wasn’t a hostage, nor was she quite an ally. We weren’t keeping her under close watch, nor did we trust her entirely. If anything, it seemed like we expected something from her.

She seemed curious about it herself. I spoke carefully, trying to soften the blow.

“Uh, don’t take this the wrong way. I don’t mean any offense.”

“…It’s already the worst. It can’t get worse.”

“Well, that’s a relief! I can speak freely then!”

‘…Why do I feel more irritated now?’

Emotions lose their credibility the moment they’re spoken aloud, don’t they? Anyway, I kindly explained.

“Peru, you may be on the Golden Mirror’s side, but you’re still useful to us. After all, you can’t use your power against us, can you? If you do, the alchemical Golden Palace will collapse.”

Elik had warned Peru not to use her power. Even without reading his mind, the reason was obvious—Peru’s ability. Her power to nullify alchemy was a direct counter to the Golden Mirror’s creations.

Not that I thought she could outright defeat someone who could transmute even the earth itself. Still, she was undoubtedly a troublesome opponent for the Golden Mirror.

“Besides, they know it too. That’s why they won’t use overwhelming force that might risk dragging you into the fray.”

“…My life doesn’t matter.”

“No, it’s not your life that matters—it’s your power. If something happens and you use your ability, it’ll be a huge problem for them.”

Even though Peru might refuse to use her power, could the Golden Palace truly be certain of that? Fear stems from the unknown. The Golden Mirror, unable to read Peru’s thoughts, would remain deeply wary of her.

Not that it mattered. In the best-case scenario, they’d attack recklessly, triggering Peru’s survival instincts and inadvertently turning her into our ally.

“See? Whether you like it or not, you’re on our side! I’m so proud of myself for finding and recruiting you!”

“…I take it back. It can get worse.”

Of course it can. There’s always a lower floor beneath the bottom, especially when it comes to my reputation. It’s unfortunate, but I couldn’t reveal the real reason.

Peru was a launchpad for her unique magic. To use it, I had to bring her along.

If we were to reach the core of the Golden Mirror’s domain, there would come a final moment when we’d need to break through. That barrier would undoubtedly be constructed through alchemy, and Peru’s unique ability was my trump card.

Perfect plan. Just as I was quietly chuckling to myself…

Thud. The serpent shook violently. Hidden within its body, we rolled around like loose cargo. Grabbing onto a stalk of embedded corn to steady myself, I held my breath and listened intently to the sounds outside.

Winged homunculi were gathering around the earthen serpent. Among them was the Heatwave Overseer, their wings trailing flames as they descended. Approaching the regressor, the Overseer spoke.

“If you survived, you should have run away. Did you come here to die?”

Even when faced with someone who had killed him once, the regressor remained composed.

“That’s my line. I tried to talk things out, but you attacked first. Did you think I wasn’t fighting because I couldn’t?”

The Heatwave Overseer tilted their head slightly.

“…Strange. That almost sounds like you’re eager to fight.”

“Do I need to spell it out for you? Are you so brainless as a homunculus that you need me to explain?”

The regressor shouted sharply, gripping Jizan embedded in the serpent’s head and pressing it forward.

The ground, which everyone believed to be solid and immovable, was in reality a flowing substance. When observed on a grand scale, it resembled a liquid. Harnessing this understanding, geomancy allowed the manipulation of soil and rock at will.

It was a magnificent ability, but… somewhat limited. Unlike alchemy, the most practical use for geomancy in everyday life was digging holes—something that could just as easily be achieved with a shovel. For that reason, geomancy hadn’t spread widely outside of the Geomancy Faith.

 

It was, in a way, fortunate.
The fact that geomancy could be effectively weaponized against humans remained a closely guarded secret within the silent traditions of the Geomancy Faith.

I felt myself jerk backward. The earthen serpent, which had coiled its massive body, suddenly straightened out. That enormous form, made of nothing but soil, hurtled toward the Golden Palace with such speed that it was hard to believe it was truly made of earth.

Boom. The ground roared, and a cloud of dust billowed upward, filling the air. The scattered particles clung to the wings of the homunculi, disrupting their combustion processes. The flying homunculi began to wobble in unison.

In the chaos, a single whirlwind surged upward, filled with dust and sand.
The wind consumed everything—scent, water, and even the soil itself. It was the embodiment of dignity, a force that dissolved and carried away all things, never settling in one place.

The swirling sandstorm rose high into the sky, resembling a dragon ascending to the heavens. Human imagination across cultures has always been similar, and the ancients called such a phenomenon a "dragon whirl."

The regressor thought of it similarly.

Heavenly Blade Gale: Serpent's Ascent.

Grasping the sandstorm as if it were a sword, the regressor shouted toward the Golden Palace.

“I came prepared, too! If you want to fight, then fight me first!”

With the most unceremonious declaration of war, the regressor swung the sandstorm. The sound that followed was as if the world itself had been split in two.

But it would have been hard to anticipate that this grand display of power was merely a diversion.
The attack, combined with the earthen serpent, was certainly menacing, but it wasn’t enough to truly threaten the Golden Mirror. Against supernatural forces of such magnitude, direct confrontation was less effective than strategic exploitation.

The regressor knew this. That’s why he launched his full-strength attack—to create an opening amidst the chaos, allowing us to advance toward our objective.

“Alright, let’s go!”

Thanks to the distraction, we entered the Golden Palace unchallenged. Now came the thief’s moment. Taking advantage of the opening the regressor had created, I emerged…

“Foolish.”

As I stepped out, I was greeted by a figure clad entirely in steel armor. A homunculus encased in metal gazed down at me with cold, unfeeling eyes.

Ah, for real? This is a problem. Normally, I’d use mind-reading to gauge the situation and decide whether to advance or retreat. But with homunculi, I can’t read their thoughts. Is this how ordinary thieves operate? It’s honestly impressive.

“The Golden Palace is the Golden Mirror’s domain, and the Golden Mirror is its god. Did you think an intruder would go unnoticed?”

The armored figure looked impenetrable, as if not even a needle could find a gap. In fact, there might not even be a human body inside that armor. But what did that matter? The armor was moving, and that was enough.

What’s inside doesn’t concern me. The only thing that matters is whether that fist can crush me or not—that alone determines my stance. And with this opponent, proper respect is warranted.

Fortunately, I had prepared accordingly. I had brought someone worthy to face them.
The armored figure spoke again.

“Furthermore, did you believe that such a colossal presence could sneak in unnoticed, progenitor?”

“I didn’t bother to argue because I thought it was ridiculous, and now you’re making assumptions. I covered myself simply because I dislike the sun. And yet you twist it into something else entirely? Do you think I’d hide myself from the likes of you?”

A brilliant crimson glow flickered within the dark maw of the earthen serpent. Normally, darkness is merely the absence of light, but for the progenitor, it was a source of power. Like venom seeping from a fang, darkness poured from the serpent’s mouth.

The darkness began to fill the space, expanding outward. Amidst it all, Tirkanjaka (Tir) emerged leisurely, as if she were merely out on a stroll.

The homunculi were visibly on edge. None of them dared approach, instead extending their abilities forward while keeping their distance. They seemed to fear falling under Tir’s control.

Meanwhile, the armored figure asked,
“…Are you alone?”

What did that mean? Were they assessing Tir’s combat capabilities, or were they wary of me, who had yet to reveal myself? If it was the former, no problem. If it was the latter… well, that could be concerning. Ideally, I hoped they’d pay me no attention.

Damn it, Golden Mirror. If you’re going to create humans, at least do it properly. Why make them so defective that I can’t even read their thoughts? It’s inconvenient.

As I grumbled internally, preparing to make my move, Tir smiled faintly and rested a parasol on her shoulder.

“Oh? Even in my presence, you still have the leisure to count numbers?”

Clang. Clang. Footsteps echoed in the distance. Dozens, no, hundreds of footsteps overlapped, like a well-trained army on the march. Yet, no matter where you looked, there was no sign of an actual army—until the footsteps drew closer.

Finally, the sound reached the area where Tir stood. From the maw of the earthen serpent, black knights clad in steel armor emerged one by one. Ten, twenty, thirty… and still more followed.

These were not mere shadows summoned by darkness. These knights wore actual armor—armor forged by the Golden Mirror itself, the pinnacle of craftsmanship.

Tools belong to whoever wields them. The Golden Mirror might have created the armor for the Heat Nations, but we had confiscated it along the way. Every unclaimed suit of armor we encountered was handed over to Tir.

Now, clad in armor made by the Golden Mirror and animated by Tir’s authority, the black knights marched forward. While their base forms were lowly constructs, the armor elevated them significantly. Even weaklings become a force to reckon with when outfitted with superior equipment.

“I am an army in myself. If you wish, try counting us. Who knows, the numbers might keep growing, so you’d better focus.”

“Blood Markings!”

The power to inscribe blood marks and exert dominance—a vampire’s authority. Vampires, with their blurred boundaries between themselves and the world, could split their essence to control others. Once, Tir had led tens of thousands with this power.

Now, however, it was far less potent.

‘In her prime, she could command over ten thousand. Now, even with blood magic, she’s barely managing a hundred. Her power has waned significantly. Still….’

“An opening!”

Without warning, the armored figure launched an attack. It wasn’t so much a martial arts strike as it was a cannon-like shot. The shoulder and fist moved simultaneously, aimed directly at Tir’s face.

Tir’s reflexes weren’t great. She didn’t have the regressor’s Heavenward Mirror ability, nor did she possess the survival instincts common to most living creatures. By the time she registered the attack, the fist was already inches from her face.

Though it wouldn’t have mattered much if it hit, the idea of being struck in the head was unpleasant. Reacting at the last second, Tir grabbed the armored figure’s arm.

Crunch. The arm was torn off.

Tir’s strength far exceeded what her body’s weight would suggest, making it difficult for her to control her movements. The moment the arm blurred, a deafening crash followed as the armored figure’s arm was ripped out at the root.

Of course, Tir’s body wasn’t immune to the recoil. Her own arm briefly dislocated, dangling uselessly, but it was only a momentary inconvenience. With her regenerative abilities, such injuries were meaningless.

“…I suppose there’s no reason to hold back. Looks like I’ll have to resort to brute force.”

Tir drove her hand straight through the armor. Though there was no body inside, it didn’t matter. Darkness filled the hollow space, and with a blood marking inscribed using the blood of nearby homunculi, the armor became one of Tir’s loyal servants.

The homunculi unleashed their powers in unison. The black knights charged. Here, in the Golden Palace, a preview of the war to come was unfolding.

But even this was merely a diversion.

‘Go on, Hugh.’

Tir amplified her presence further, drawing the homunculi’s attention. She masked my movements with her overwhelming aura.

While Tir fought above, I pressed forward underground, carving a path through the earth.