A crumbled path stretched toward the Golden Mirror. Peru, using her Verdant power to create it, spurred Aurea onward. As Aurea raced madly forward with Peru atop, she shouted, her voice trembling from the jolting ride.

“...O, Golden Mirror!”

Even in that moment, Peru harbored no intent to oppose him. If anything, her stance resembled that of a loyal vassal risking her life to rectify a misguided royal decision.

The Golden Mirror was the god of alchemy—the creator of the system that governed the confederated nations, their undisputed ruler. Whether one wished it or not, he was the origin, the teacher, and the deity to all alchemists. This included Peru, despite her ability to negate alchemy. It was precisely because she loved alchemy so deeply that she had reached the pinnacle of her path, and her loyalty to the Golden Mirror exceeded that of most.

She raised her voice, hoping to change the Golden Mirror’s heart.

“...Please reconsider! They are not guilty...!”

–But her plea did not reach him.

The Golden Mirror acknowledged Peru, but only because her abilities were a threat. To the Golden Mirror, who sought to rebuild the Golden Nation, Peru, who destroyed it, was a target for immediate elimination. He shifted his focus to Peru and unleashed his god-like power solely to kill her.

A massive structure rose before Peru as she raced toward the city. The circular, pitch-black steel structure was enigmatic in both form and purpose. Even I couldn’t discern its function, only feeling the overwhelming need to stay wary of it. Unable to read the Golden Mirror’s thoughts, I could only rely on the instincts that warned me of danger.

This thing is dangerous.

Peru must have felt the same. She directed her power at the black sphere, and the Verdant energy began corroding the steel from the outside. Yet, as soon as her ability touched it, the sphere reacted by swelling violently, as if about to burst.

“Danger!”

The regressor shouted, but it was too late.
The black sphere exploded, releasing power far beyond what the Heatwave Overseer could muster. Waves of pressure rippled visibly outward as the sphere disgorged its contents—millions of razor-sharp steel fragments. Each shard followed its own trajectory, raining down upon the earth.

Death spread. The steel rain tore through anything it touched, scattering blood in its wake. While 99.9% of the fragments harmlessly struck the ground, the remaining 0.1% were more than enough to claim lives. Even when Peru used her powers to dull their sharpness slightly, she couldn’t stop their velocity and weight.

Drip, drop, crack. The sound resembled a torrential downpour hammering the earth. Those caught in the brutal rain of fragments had parts of their bodies torn asunder. Wolves attempting to flee the city were struck down in droves, their lives snuffed out as easily as trash in the presence of a god.

A horrifying tragedy. What made it worse was that these countless deaths were merely collateral damage to the Golden Mirror. The steel rain had been unleashed solely to kill Peru.

Overhead, the rain fell upon Peru with density unmatched elsewhere, as if she were the sole target. Like water droplets bursting from a balloon, the shards rained down. Without specialized equipment or shielding, she had no way to defend herself. Aurea reared in fear, raising its forelegs—but what could that accomplish?

The shards hurtled toward Peru to claim her life.

And then—

“Woof.”

Aji dashed in like the wind. With its fur bristling, the dog threw itself into the steel rain, shielding Peru with its entire body.

Though deadly to humans, the steel shards were woefully insufficient to harm Aji. Peru, still astride her mount, was safe even from the shards that ricocheted off the ground. In a fleeting instant of fortune, death swerved away from Peru.

Grateful beyond words, Peru directed her thanks to Aji.

“...Thank you, Aji.”
“...Woof.”

But Aji’s expression remained grim. The dog stared vacantly at the distant carnage, its gaze fixed on the many lives snuffed out. For a dog that adored humans, the sight was too much to bear.

While Peru briefly faltered in her words, the regressor landed in front of her, shouting urgently.

“Verdant Overseer! Be careful—there’s more coming!”

The Golden Mirror launched a second attack. The fallen fragments turned pitch black, disintegrating into a cloud of smoke that spread rapidly on the wind, obscuring visibility in moments.

Though the Verdant power could easily destroy structures, it couldn’t coalesce fine particles like this. The steel dust scattered far and wide, forming a fog too fine for Peru to manage effectively. It was clear the Golden Mirror was highly aware of her threat, targeting her with attacks designed to counter her abilities.

“Is he trying to block our sight? Tch, and it had to be steel dust!”

The regressor grumbled. Even his Seven-Colored Eyes couldn’t penetrate through metal dust. Meanwhile, I felt tremors through the ground and shouted a warning.

“Shay! Something’s coming!”
“I know! Earth’s Spine: Mighty Strike!”

A massive iron sphere barreled toward us through the storm of steel dust. The regressor reacted instantly, swinging Jizan to intercept it. Clang! The sound of metal rang out as the man-sized iron sphere was deflected like a baseball, sent hurtling away.

But the tremors continued. One, two, and then too many to count.

“Shay! Hundreds more are rolling in!”
“Tch. The Golden Mirror must feel genuinely threatened! He’s pulling out all the stops to deal with us. We need to regroup!”

In his previous state, playing house in the Golden Palace, the Golden Mirror might have only used homunculi for attacks. But the present Golden Mirror wielded all the alchemical powers of the Overseers personally, on a scale and with functionality surpassing them all combined. Were it not for Peru’s Verdant power nullifying so much, we would be facing horrors far worse than shards or iron spheres.

...What had the regressor done in a past regression to survive such an onslaught? How had he even lived through it? I still couldn’t fathom.

The regressor grabbed Peru, trying to pull her away, but she held on to Aurea’s reins stubbornly.

“...There are still people... in the city.”
“Get a grip, Peru. The ones who could escape already have. The rest... it’s too late for them.”

The people remaining in the city were either unable to flee or too severely injured to move. There was nothing more we could do for them. Peru understood this in her head but couldn’t accept it in her heart, clinging to her lingering hope.

Her intentions were noble, but that alone wasn’t enough. I forced her to face reality.

“Charging recklessly into the Golden Palace without a plan or preparation is up to you, Peru. That’s your choice. But remember this one thing.”

The confederated nations were not a place of loyalty or unity. Few sought to save this incomplete nation, and of those, only Peru possessed both the power and determination to do so.

Simply put, if Peru fell, the confederated nations were truly doomed. No one else—not even the regressor—could stop the Golden Mirror then.

“If you fail, the calamity in Claudia will be hundreds of times worse than this. Be cold and calculated.”

If you can put a price on objects, you can put a price on lives. Peru, as someone from the confederated nations, instinctively understood this.

Was the value of a few dozen lives, already as good as gone, worth more than the countless children and the foundation of Claudia itself?

The answer was clear: Claudia’s survival was paramount. Without it, the confederated nations would have no future.

Peru lowered her head and turned her steed. Aurea, anxious and jittery, happily complied with her decision.

The regressor covered the retreat, and Tir cloaked us in shadows, obscuring us from the Golden Mirror’s view. Once out of his sight, the attacks lessened. As soon as we put enough distance between ourselves and the Golden Mirror, he resumed his obsessive reconstruction of the city.

Within minutes, all thoughts emanating from the city disappeared. There hadn’t been many to begin with.

Now safely beyond the Golden Mirror’s reach, we had a moment to catch our breath. Unlike Peru, who was mostly unharmed, Aurea bore the brunt of the damage. The steed had been pierced in several places by steel fragments, wounds marking its body. Peru dismounted, running her hands gently over Aurea’s injuries.

Though trained warhorses can often survive such injuries, a wound is still a wound. The steed wouldn’t be able to sprint at full capacity again. I assessed the situation, inspecting Aurea’s condition and the group’s options.

“Even if we’ve retreated for now, it’s meaningless if we have no way to stop the Golden Mirror. The horse is injured. What’s your plan, Peru? You’ll need a living mount to reach the Golden Mirror.”

I half-jokingly wondered if she’d consider riding Aji. It wasn’t entirely impossible, but dogs aren’t usually inclined to carry humans. While I mulled over the logistics, Peru murmured quietly.

“...The Golden Hull.”
“What?”

Her words cut through the air. Peru was weighing the cost of her actions, placing the lives of the wolves on one side of the scale and the fate of Claudia on the other. While Overseers could bend the rules of equivalence for alchemy, that only applied to their craft, not moral choices. Peru had made her decision, and the scale tipped decisively.

But just because the scale tipped didn’t mean the lighter side vanished without a trace. The weight of the discarded choice remained, and Peru, as the one who had made it, would carry that burden. A ruler who sacrifices others to preserve their kingdom must nourish themselves and their nation on the foundation of those sacrifices, no matter how revolting or horrifying it may feel.

That is the responsibility of a ruler.

Only gods are free from such responsibilities. The dead, like the Golden Mirror, cannot be bound by any burden.

Peru had made her choice. Now, she sought a possibility to fulfill it—a chance to stop the Golden Mirror for the sake of those who had died because of her decision.

Of course, it was only a possibility, not a certainty. It might fail. But even amidst imperfection, Peru found that sliver of hope and, with resolute determination, made her demand of me.

“...If I can use the Golden Hull, I can reach the Golden Mirror. Help me.”

She was asking me to join her in dying for the sake of her country.

Naturally, I had no intention of dying. I was merely a beast, and all I wanted was for humans to continue believing me to be one. What sort of fool would willingly walk into certain death?

“The Golden Hull is a juggernaut created by the Golden Mirror, isn’t it? How do you plan to use it to fight him? Are you just going to ram it into him?”
“...Yes.”

I’ll admit, I liked the sound of that plan.

You can’t call yourself a beast if you don’t do something stupid. Fine, I’d help, as long as I didn’t die in the process.