For a moment, my mind wandered, and yet another strange memory seeped in, like a dream.

What is this memory now? King Elik? Could the thoughts of someone who died centuries ago still linger?

Something felt off.

Elik, the Golden Overseer. Bearing the appearance of the old king of the Golden Nation, she spoke and acted like royalty and had long reigned as a Guardian of the Golden Palace. Reading Hecto's thoughts, it seemed she had looked the same since Hecto’s youth.

She was a part of the Golden Mirror, but she had a strangely strong and independent will for something supposedly controlled by it. She even issued commands to Hecto unilaterally, and Hecto, the eldest of the Heat Nation’s leaders, always treated her with deference and respect.

Sometimes, corpses that are never laid to rest retain their form in peculiar ways. Such bodies can linger long after death, exerting tremendous influence on the world—just as the uncorrupted corpses within the Abyss once did. It seemed that King Elik’s form and even fragments of her thoughts had been preserved under the Golden Mirror’s power.

No wonder she seemed strangely vivid. It wasn’t just the Golden Mirror’s obsessive imagination at work. My apologies for doubting you, Golden Mirror. After all, someone who can’t even add variety to city design wouldn’t have been capable of such a detailed depiction of a woman.

Perhaps it was because they both existed that the Golden Mirror felt more complete.

Well, that’s all in the past now.

A single space in the columbarium will suffice. Surely, the two would have wanted to be buried together.

Amidst the trembling haze of unconsciousness, I bid my final farewell and returned to the reality that pulled me back.

“Woof, woof, woof.”

Scratch, scratch, scratch. The sound of something clawing at the ground reached my ears. A fissure appeared in the pitch-black darkness at the edge of my vision, quivering as if to burst open. I squinted to get a better look, and the fissure widened suddenly, flooding the area with light.

Aji, spotting me buried in the rubble, raised her head and howled.

“Awoo! Found you!”
“Found me? That’s not really the phrase you should be using right now.”

I nearly died, buried under this rubble. What kind of king could I call myself after that? Grumbling, I wriggled my way out.

Not long ago, the Golden Palace had been a massive fortress racing across the wasteland. But now, the fortress was nowhere to be found. Instead, the cubic blocks that had formed its structure lay scattered, completely disassembled.

It seemed the Golden Mirror had done something, causing the blocks to lose cohesion and collapse. I had been buried beneath the debris but was dramatically rescued by Aji.

The blocks that once formed the fortress and the Golden Palace now rolled pathetically across the ground. Ephemeral, like a flower that lasts but a few days, they were less sturdy than petals before the Golden Mirror. Carefully stepping to avoid slipping, I patted Aji.

“Well done, Aji. You found me somehow.”
“Woof! Easy! I’m great at finding bones I’ve hidden!”
“What’s the point of hiding them when we’re constantly moving?”
“Future investment!”
“Investments only matter if you can retrieve them. You’re just throwing them away.”
“Woof, woof! I’ll get them back! Someday!”
“…Why are you looking at me while saying that?”

Her gleaming eyes, as if she intended to collect on some debt, were unsettling. It wasn’t as though I planned to default on anything, but there were limits to what I could do. I didn’t forget promises, but there were times I simply couldn’t fulfill them.

Just then, the regressor came bounding across the blocks toward me.

Having narrowly escaped death, even the regressor felt like a welcome sight. I waved to greet him.

“Hey, Huey! What happened to the Golden Mirror?”

I stopped mid-sentence, my face falling.

“Worry about me first. I was buried under all this rubble just moments ago.”
“It’s not like anyone attacked you. It’s just some collapsed debris.”
“Collapsed debris can still kill an ordinary person! Do you have any idea how terrifying and dangerous that was?”

Unlike you, I don’t have boundless vitality or incredible treasures. Surviving this was nothing short of a miracle.

As I grumbled endlessly, the regressor scoffed and shifted his gaze. His eyes changed to the penetrating green of his insight, capable of seeing through all but metallic materials.

“Stop whining. It wasn’t that dangerous.”

He lifted the fissure I had crawled out of using Jizan. Beneath the blocks, there was just enough space for me to lie down, surrounded by a structure of cards.

Damn cheat skills. I can’t even properly exaggerate my troubles with him around. The regressor inspected the card structure with a curious expression.

“You even built a shelter while it was collapsing. But what is this? Steel cards? Alchemy?”

Was it alchemy? It’s hard to explain.

It’s closer to a demon’s work than a technique.

Alchemy is a human skill. Like every other alchemist, I can transmute objects into desired forms using alchemical currency and spare mana. That’s how my card equipment was created.

Of course, even with the same materials, the results vary. A master alchemist can create things far more intricate and functional than mine. Mana is strength. My pitiful mana barely allows me to shape forms, whereas skilled alchemists can add all sorts of enhancements.

If building a house were the analogy, I’d be stacking logs to create a crude shelter, while an alchemist would refine those logs into planks, construct a house, and even furnish it with extras.

Still, no matter how great an alchemist is, they can’t create value out of nothing. If the material is mere dirt, even pouring immense mana into it would only yield brittle, easily shattered alchemical steel.

Overseers are said to “cheat the scales” because their unique magic can make even worthless alchemical steel useful. But it’s still “cheating,” not “creating.”

…However, Elixir’s true enlightenment is something else entirely.

Just as human geomancy involves nothing more than digging pits and leveling the ground, Gaia Ego’s true enlightenment is the understanding of the earth beneath our feet.

Likewise, while alchemy, as a human-crafted skill, refines and transforms materials, Elixir’s essence lies beyond that.

All matter shares the same origin. Gold, steel, even coarse sand that seems useless.

Even humans—there is nothing inherently special about what composes their bodies. It’s merely the way it is arranged that determines form and function.

The Golden Mirror had realized something.
That all things were composed of endlessly small blocks.

My Spade cards are the idols of a demon—a medium that pays tribute to the immense enlightenment the demon had glimpsed and connects to that great truth. If even a demon, who was once human, could wield such power, then so could I, as a king of humanity. No matter the type or origin, I could transform matter itself into something else.

The problem was…

“Why does it have to be cards?!”
“What’s wrong with that?”

As I am now, ordinary and limited, I can only summon a fraction of that power through the idols. The only ability my Spade 8 possesses is the power to transform any material it touches into a steel card. Regardless of substance or type, all I can create are identical Spade 8 cards in the image of the idol!

I suppose it makes sense. Even if I were given the power to create anything, I wouldn’t be able to use it effectively with my current lack of strength, mana, and technique. Just as wielding geomancy doesn’t make one a grandmaster, and learning druidism doesn’t put you on Navida’s level, merely glimpsing the pinnacle of alchemy doesn’t mean I can transmute the world like the Golden Mirror.

The cards, being the objects I’ve created most often, naturally fit in my hand. But still… why cards? Couldn’t it have been something more useful?!

Despite my inner frustration, I couldn’t deny that having something was better than nothing. I calmed myself and replied.

“It wasn’t me. The Golden Mirror must have saved me.”
“The Golden Mirror? Saved you?”
“Yes. Peru succeeded in reaching the Golden Mirror.”

The Golden Palace had collapsed. At the last moment, the Golden Mirror made a choice, saving Peru and doing something else. I couldn’t read its thoughts, so I wasn’t sure what it had done, but one thing was clear from the current situation.

The Golden Mirror was dead.

It wasn’t a perfect description, given that it was already a dead body, but at least it seemed to have let go of its obsession with the Golden Nation.

Instead…

Ding.

A bell rang from somewhere. Blocks nearby began to stir.

It seemed an unseen force was stacking the blocks one by one to build a structure. The collapsed blocks piled themselves into a new form, creating something like a doorway to the underground, with a staircase leading into the darkness.

From beyond that darkness, someone emerged.

It was Peru.

Her injuries were still evident. The scattered scars and bloodstains told of the hardships she had endured. Her complexion, already poor, had worsened to the point where she looked as though she might collapse and die at any moment.

But there was one difference: a small golden bell hung at her waist. Every time it rang, the blocks formed structures along her path, as if blessing her journey.

The Golden Mirror had entrusted its will to Peru. Like an heirloom, it left behind only its power, devoid of any other intent. That overwhelming power would now be wielded by Peru for the sake of the nation.

The regressor, stepping on the newly formed platforms, called out to Peru as she approached.

“Verdant Overseer. Looks like the plan was a success?”
“…Ugh.”
“Who’d have thought you’d be able to stop the real Golden Mirror? Thanks to you, I’m alive. So, the ceasefire agreement will proceed as planned, right?”
“…Ugh.”

With a groan, Peru suddenly collapsed forward. The regressor’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Whoa? Verdant Overseer?”
“Shei, I told you. Not everyone is as resilient as you. Some people feel like their lives are in danger just by being near that thing.”
“This is no time to be calm! Her energy is unstable!”
“You’ve been the calmest one so far, Shei. I told you—worry about us first!”

Well, it’s not like Peru was injured by being buried in the rubble. The Golden Mirror didn’t intend to kill us with the collapse, so it wasn’t as dangerous as it seemed. Peru’s condition was probably due to her earlier injuries and the subsequent repairs. Unlike a homunculus, Peru was alive when she was “fixed.” It seemed her body hadn’t fully adjusted yet.

The regressor, unaware of this, leapt across the blocks to reach Peru. But before he could, Hilde emerged from the rubble ahead of him.

Despite being buried under even more debris than I was, Hilde, with her immense physical strength, remained unscathed. Casually supporting Peru, Hilde smirked and teasingly covered her mouth.

“Oh my~. Is Peru about to die? After going through all the trouble to destroy the Golden Mirror, has she run out of strength? Does that mean the Heat Nation will be up for grabs? Free for the taking? Mine?”
“Leave her alone! If you touch her carelessly, I won’t forgive you!”

The regressor, fuming, approached, and Hilde pouted, handing Peru over to him as if relinquishing a burden.

“What’s this? Someone might think I sent her to her death. You’re the one who pushed her into fighting.”
“The Verdant Overseer agreed to it! Thanks to that, we stopped the rampaging Golden Mirror. If it had stayed still, even the Military Nation wouldn’t have survived!”
“Sure, and I said thanks, didn’t I? But look at this!”

Hilde reached toward the golden bell at Peru’s waist.

In an instant, a sharp pressure cut between them like a blade. Hilde flinched, stepping back with her hands raised slightly. The regressor, with a piercing gaze, issued a warning.

“Hands off. It’s not yours.”

Even the cutting intensity of his aura didn’t faze Hilde as she casually responded.

“Then whose is it? Yours? How greedy can you be, trying to claim the Golden Mirror’s heirloom for yourself?”
“If necessary. But that’s for later. For now, don’t touch it until the Verdant Overseer wakes up.”

The regressor’s sharp instincts flared. ‘This situation, barely stabilized, could spiral out of control. For now, I’ll leave it with the Verdant Overseer and see how things unfold. It wouldn’t be an issue if I took it, but she seems reasonable—at least compared to the Military Nation.’

Though he usually lived with a carefree attitude, the regressor treated the demon’s relics with great caution. Perhaps it was because they could either save the future or bring about catastrophic destruction.

Still, isn’t it too blatant to say you’ll take it if necessary? Hilde will remember that decision—better be careful.

“I didn’t plan on taking it, you know~. But have you forgotten? The ceasefire agreement’s deadline.”
“Deadline?”
“You stopped the Golden Mirror, sure, but the ceasefire hasn’t been finalized yet. If there’s no confirmation within two days, war might break out.”

When Hilde first set out for the Heat Nation, she’d specified a one-week timeline. Like a rolling wheel, once the military forces moved, they couldn’t stop without collapsing. Whether they returned to the Military Nation or advanced on the Heat Nation depended on the conclusions reached here.

“And now there’s no authority to finalize the ceasefire, is there? No matter how much the Heat Nation prides itself on alchemy, they can’t transmute their leader back into existence. What will we do~?”

With the Golden Mirror gone, there was no one left to make decisions. Hilde spun around gleefully, clearly delighted that the much-desired peace hadn’t yet materialized.