At the principal office…
I knocked three times on the heavy mahogany door of the principal's suite.
"Come on in!" a warm, familiar voice called out from inside.
I pushed the door open to find Nautilus Cotton sitting behind a high desk covered in regional border maps and academy documents. He looked up, his face immediately breaking into a bright, welcoming smile.
"Well, well, if it isn't Elicia...the offspring goddess herself! Here, take a seat."
I walked in and sat down in the leather chair across from him, resting my wooden staff against the edge of the desk.
"What news brings you here today?" Nautilus asked, setting down his pen. "If it's anything regarding your academy, you know I'll gladly lend a hand."
"No, this isn't about Sisiphon Academy," I replied, leaning forward slightly. "It's about another topic... regarding the infected."
As the Commander of Branch 2, Nautilus's smile shifted into a more serious, deeply appreciative expression. "Ah. Judging from your timing, is this about the battle at the Branch 2 border? Just a few days ago, our entire forward defense line was nearly wiped out in seconds. But luckily, thanks to your incredible healing abilities, my soldiers made a full recovery."
He leaned back in his chair, looking at me with immense respect. "You were far too brave, Elicia. In fact, you were bitten numerous times on that field and still refused to give up, risking your own life just to save the lives of others. As a token of my gratitude, what do you want?"
Memory flooded back. During that brutal border ambush, infected bites...which were normally a fatal sentence of neural corruption...were purged by my Divine Regeneration. I had thrown myself directly into the chaotic fray to pull his front-line troops out of the jaws of death before they could be torn to pieces.
Unlike Roman Calico, who had coldly shut down my proposal without a second thought, Nautilus felt a deep debt of honor toward me. I had saved his men, and he was ready to hear me out.
Nautilus rested his elbows on the desk, his eyes searching mine. "Lady Elicia, you risked your life to break the enemy line and pull our troop from the jaws of perdition. In this world where benefits rule supreme, and humans are but wolves devouring wolves, why did you return for us? What is it that you want from me? What is your true purpose?"
I blinked, scratching the back of my head in genuine confusion. I looked at the principal, then thought back to the weary, battle-scarred soldiers I had pulled off that bloody field, and smiled softly.
"Purpose? Nautilus, please," I said gently. "You speak of benefits, but can a river ask the sea for permission to flow? When the winter wind howls, does the charcoal demand a price before it warms the freezing traveler?"
I gestured lightly toward the window overlooking the peaceful academy grounds.
"If a house is collapsing, do we stand outside and negotiate the rent before pulling the children from the flames? If I see a brother stumbling on a dark mountain path, do I ask him what his clan can offer me before I hold out my hand? The heavens cover all of us without asking for tribute, and the earth bears our weight without demanding rent. Human beings are born into this world not to be solitary beasts tearing at each other's throats in the dark, but to be the pillars that hold up the roof for one another. If I calculate the cost of a life before saving it, am I still a human being, or have I merely become a merchant trading in souls?"
Nautilus went entirely still, the weight of my words settling deep into the quiet office.
"Nautilus, I do not want your coins, nor do I want your political power," I finished, meeting his eyes with open sincerity. "I only need recruits...specifically earth manipulators...to execute my purification plan. I only wish that when the path ahead grows dark for someone else, you might remember this day and shine a little light for them, too."
Nautilus leaned back, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Wait, you need recruits? I have numerous manipulation magic users under my command...not just Earth, but Ice Manipulation, Dark magic, Sugar Manipulation, and Magma Manipulation as well."
"Wait, no Magma Manipulation!" I interjected quickly, waving my hands. "It's far too hot and will incinerate the infected before we can isolate them!"
Nautilus blinked, leaning forward over his desk with a sudden look of confusion. "Burn the infected? Wait a minute... Elicia, what on earth are you planning to do with my soldiers?"
I took a deep breath and laid out the entire strategy once more...the crater containment lines, the monster-meat feed supplies, the earth and barrier isolations, and the massive, collective purification process using my Divine Regeneration to cure all fifty thousand souls instead of slaughtering them.
When I finished, Nautilus sat in stunned silence for a long moment before letting out a soft, exasperated chuckle.
"Umm... that is quite unrealistic, Elicia," he admitted, shaking his head. "To be completely honest, it sounds almost impossible. But since you saved my soldiers from certain death at the border, I will not remonstrate or argue against it. I will go along with your plan."
Even with his rational and pragmatic mindset, Nautilus was willing to place his trust in my vision. He pulled out a personnel binder from his desk drawer and flipped through the roster pages.
"Well, in total, I have nearly fourteen soldiers who possess element and force manipulation abilities, along with an extra six healers who have the Mana Regeneration skill."
Fourteen?! I thought to myself, my eyes widening slightly. I only needed four more manipulators! But it would be rude to decline his generosity... and six extra healers will make an enormous difference. The more, the merrier!
Before I could express my gratitude, Nautilus raised a hand, his expression turning somber.
"However, while the number of healers is exact, several of those manipulators were heavily injured during the border ambush before your reinforcements arrived. They were infected by the thralls during the initial wave, and in a desperate bid to stop the corruption from spreading to their nervous systems, they cut off their own arms, leaving them severely mutilated."
He sighed, closing the binder halfway. "A mutilated body cannot fight or weave intricate spell matrices easily. Because of their missing limbs, the effective number of usable manipulators drops down to seven."
He then looked up at me, a spark of hope gleaming in his eyes.
"Well... since you possess Divine Regeneration, you could potentially heal their missing limbs yourself. Regular healing magic can only mend surface wounds and close flesh; it cannot regenerate an entire severed arm. Using advanced prosthetics with pseudo-nerves is astronomically expensive...the specialized pseudo-nerve material required is Fufumantium, which is exceptionally rare and would drain a mountain of resources. Given that the Bureau's high command refuses to fund your plan, utilizing high-end prosthetics is out of the question. But with your divine gift, you can restore their limbs completely."
"Oh my..." I murmured, my voice trembling as my hand tightened around the head of my staff.
Nautilus let out a heavy, weary sigh, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. "They're in the central infirmary right now. Some of them lost all four limbs... others lost half of their face. Normal healing magic cannot rebuild broken skulls when the damage goes straight into the brain matter. Trust me, Elicia, it is pure, horrifying gore in there."
I stood there in the quiet office, the reality of his words crashing over me like a freezing tidal wave.
This world is a meat grinder... Why did I ever think this world had room for tears?
Look at them. Look at these peasants, these high-ranking commanders, these so-called heroes and villains alike. They call me the offspring goddess, the Commander of Branch 1. But in this vast, freezing wilderness, my power is nothing more than a thicker coat of fat on a pig heading straight to the slaughterhouse.
They speak of righteousness, of Bureau lineage, of eternal bonds. What a farce! The truth of this world is as bare and piercing as the winter wind: it is a machine of pure, unadulterated survival. There is no warmth here, only the cold, mechanical calculation of benefits.
If a snake bites your hand, do you weep and beg the venom to stop? No. You draw your blade and sever your own wrist before the rot reaches your heart.
"To lose a hand is to save a life; to cling to the limb is to invite the grave." Is that not the fundamental law we are all forced to swallow?
A Nightwalker bite...a single spark of deathly energy...is all it takes. In another world, a person might hesitate, mourning the loss of their fingers, crying out to the heavens for a miraculous cure. But here? A warrior will smile as his own blood spurts into the snow, watching his severed arm turn to black ash without a single flicker of regret in his eyes. They do not hesitate. They cannot afford to. In the desperate struggle for survival, a limb is just a piece of currency. If the cost of living is self-mutilation, they will carve themselves into pieces until only a torso remains, so long as that torso can still breathe, still fight, and still live.
Isn't it hilarious? We call ourselves the spirit of all living beings, yet we treat our own flesh like expendable, rank-one materials.
What is a human body in this world? It is nothing but a temporary vessel, a fragile clay pot holding a soul. If the pot cracks, do you throw away the water, or do you smash the broken shard to save the rest?
Who cares about the pain? Who cares about the dignity? In this grand, cruel chessboard, we are all just pieces moving toward an unreachable shore. If I must tear off my own arm tomorrow to survive their schemes, will I even weep? Or will I simply look at the stump, laugh at the heavens, and keep walking?
Yes... that is the absolute rationality of this world. A terrible, suffocating rationality. It is a flame that burns away all sentimentality, leaving behind only the bleached, unyielding bones of survival.
I closed my eyes for a brief moment, forcing the suffocating weight out of my lungs, before looking back up at Nautilus with steady resolve.
"Well... where is the infirmary?" I asked softly.
Nautilus stood up from behind his mahogany desk, smoothing out his commander's coat. "Well, I was just about to go down and visit my soldiers anyway. Would you mind coming along with me?"
"Sure."