This allowed me to "test" its various abilities repeatedly, gathering all the data I needed on its "Fusion Magic" before finally erasing it. Its combat data and personality profile were also uploaded to the Virtual Combat Arena for future training sessions.
As for what exactly transpired between me and Zard in that underground cave... let's just say that sometimes, having superhuman regeneration is more of a curse than a blessing, especially when facing an opponent you cannot defeat.
With his business concluded, Takson ran up to me, his face beaming with excitement, like a child showing off a perfect test score to his parents.
"I passed the test!" he declared proudly.
"Affirmative," I replied with a simple nod.
"Uh, that's it? No other reaction?" he asked, his excitement deflating slightly.
"Explanation: I was already aware of the outcome. The clone was my proxy. You have no need to report to me."
My teacher had a unique talent for extinguishing enthusiasm. But he was used to it by now. Besides, something else had caught his attention.
"Teacher," he asked, pointing, "when did you change your clothes?"
He was right. I looked completely different. Most notably, I was now wearing a stunning gown of white and gold silk, as pure and radiant as a wedding dress.
My hair, once violet-blue, was now a brilliant, snowy white. Only my golden eyes remained the same.
Combined with the halo of light floating above my head, I looked less like a machine and more like a true angel, descended from the heavens to save the mortal realm.
Where before Takson had only imagined I might be an apostle of the Goddess, now he was certain. His teacher was an angel.
I noticed him staring, his expression a mixture of awe and barely suppressed excitement.
"Teacher, you look like a real angel," he breathed.
"Explanation: Do not be concerned. It is a function of my abilities."
She didn't deny it! Takson thought, his heart soaring. My status in his mind, already impossibly high, ascended to a new, unshakable peak. If anyone were to suggest I wasn't an angel, he would fight them to the death.
I could see the fervent, almost religious zeal in his eyes. I could guess what he was thinking, but I saw no need to correct him. In a way, he wasn't entirely wrong.
The Ex-Machina were, after all, the creations of a god. And Origami Tobiichi's Spirit codename was "Angel."
That was the source of my new appearance. I was using her power. Not just her Angel, but her entire Sephira Crystal, which I had fully analyzed and replicated during my trip to the future.
Of all my Spirit-based armaments, "Angel" was the most complete, and therefore, the most powerful. And under the full-powered bombardment of Metatron Artelif, the demon known as Zard never stood a chance.
Because I had replicated the Sephira Crystal itself, I could manifest the full power of Metatron, including its Adonai Melek astral dress.
My version, however, was styled more like a formal gown than Origami's "wedding dress." It was an automatic, passive effect of using the armament, but it could be dismissed just as easily.
A flash of light, and I was back to my usual appearance. I could feel a wave of disappointment coming from Takson.
With the demon dealt with a weak but magically interesting specimen and Takson's test passed, our business here was concluded.
"Teacher, I'm ready to go," he announced, having packed away his things.
"Acknowledged."
We continued our journey south. We were still in the Northern Plains, and our destination was the central region of the continent. At this pace, with a human child in tow, the journey would take a very long time.
But time was something I had in abundance.
….
Meanwhile, Elsewhere in the World:-
On a high mountain peak, a golden-haired woman sat cross-legged on a cliff's edge. A gentle breeze rustled her long, flowing hair. Her expression was one of profound, listless boredom, as if the entire world held nothing of interest to her. A pair of long, pointed ears peeked out from her golden locks, marking her as one of the long-lived race of elves.
Suddenly, she looked up, her gaze directed to the north.
In that instant, the boredom vanished from her face.
"This feeling..." she murmured, a slow, intrigued smile spreading across her lips. "Heh. Interesting."
It was as if she had just spotted something truly captivating for the first time in a very long while.
….
At the entrance to a small village, a group of people had gathered around a black-haired boy who looked to be about fifteen.
"Thank you again for your help!" an old woman said, gripping his hand tightly.
"Haha, it was nothing," the boy replied with an easy smile. "Besides, you've already paid me for the job, haven't you?"
"That's not enough! You took care of the monster that's been troubling us for months. Our young people were afraid to even enter the forest because of it." She squeezed his hand harder. "Won't you stay for dinner? It's the least we can do."
The boy looked at the eager, hopeful faces of the villagers. He didn't want to be rude, but he had somewhere else to be. "I'm sorry, everyone, but I really can't stay. I appreciate the offer, though."
The old woman's face fell. "Oh. Well, if you have important business, we won't keep you."
Seeing her disappointment, the boy had an idea. "If it's not too much trouble, though," he said, "I wouldn't mind a few snacks for the road."
Her eyes lit up. "Of course, of course!"
And so, a few minutes later, laden with the goodwill of the village, the boy waved his goodbyes and headed down the path into the forest.
….
A girl sat quietly by the side of the road, her back resting against the trunk of a large tree. Her long, violet-blue hair was tied back in a high ponytail that reached the ground.
A strange ornament was perched on her head, its purpose known only to her.
A thick grimoire rested on her lap. The setting sun cast a warm, golden light through the leaves, illuminating the pages of the book. It was a scene of perfect, tranquil beauty.
If you ignored the fact that she was flipping through the pages at a superhuman speed.
"Teacher ! I'm back !"
A boy's cheerful voice shattered the peace.
I closed the grimoire, my amber-gold eyes lifting to meet the source of the noise. A black-haired boy, a battle-axe slung over his shoulder and a bag of cookies in his hand, was walking towards me with a wide, goofy grin.
"Reminder: Takson, there is no need to shout," I said, my voice flat. "I am always aware of your location."
"Haha, just think of it as a habit, Teacher," he replied, undeterred. "It just feels right to announce my return."
This was Takson, the student I had picked up years ago.
The small, scrawny child was now a fifteen-year-old young man, a full head taller than me.
The short-handled axe I had made for him had long since been replaced with a proper battle-axe.
He was dressed in the robes of a cleric, but his well-muscled physique and the weapon on his shoulder screamed "warrior."
A battle cleric. In my database, the only other being with such a contradictory image was a certain elven monk.
"So, Teacher," he asked, his grin widening. "How did I do on my test?"
….
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