The next day, Doctor Istorija continued her tale of the kralscell's and the empyreans. She described the kralscell's as tragic beings, symbolizing a poisoned chalice—how anything granted freely often comes at a terrible cost.
As for the empyreans, she viewed them as potential keys to the collective success of all sentient life. Yet, she acknowledged their complicity in the downfall of
Her lecture continued, explaining how, despite their god-like feats over the last sixty thousand years, the kralscell's were as mortal as any of us.
Unlike true gods who are born with inherent strength, the kralscell's were mortals cursed or blessed with powers comparable to, or even greater than, those of the gods—much like transcendent beings. Their actions, therefore, were unique. Each of the thirteen kralscell's lived in a strange way, some striving to prove their divinity, while others indulged in mortal pleasures, yet all retained the enigmatic quality of what they truly were.
"The first kralscell of hope, the burning beginner, the archon of verve. Driven by the thrill of battle, they transformed into a god of war, laughing amidst conflict, drinking from the cup of destruction in all its forms. Neither light-bringers nor dark receivers are spared from their tantrums."
"The second kralscell of evolution, the eternal mother, the archon of essence. With an unwavering love for wild nature, they birthed worlds brimming with life—ranging from the smallest amoeba to the most majestic dragons. Biologists and gardeners alike look to her as a source of nature's divine love."
"The third kralscell of invention, the designer in perpetuity, the archon of contrivance. Fascinated by metal and wire, they crafted engines that made space travel hundreds of times faster and more flexible than ever before. Creating worlds of pure technology, teeming with robotic life, they blessed scientists and inventors with their genius."
"The fourth kralscell of adventure, the screaming challenger, the archon of trials. Enthralled by the excitement of games and sports, they sought to replace the sadness and despair their evil nature once caused with joy and improvement. Their challenges await those brave enough to test themselves, and they are loved by those with something to prove."
"The fifth kralscell of memory, the all-edged remembrance, the archon of salvation. Devoted to discipline, they perfected the way of the sword, creating a school where anyone could seek redemption through effort. Hundreds of renowned martial arts masters have emerged from their dojo of redemption."
"The sixth kralscell of songs, the harmony writer, the archon of passion. With a love for literature and the arts, they dove deep into culture, creating plays and music to express sentiments of remorse. Many famous artists are said to have drawn inspiration from them."
"The seventh kralscell of flowers, the lover in the garden, the archon of beauty. Vanity guided their pursuit of perfection, seeking the ideal world to claim as their own and turn into a reflection of themselves. They choose only the most beautiful beings to bestow their divine kiss."
"The eighth kralscell of corruption, the shadow of every hand, the archon of alter. Mesmerized by mortal liberty, they built the empire
"The ninth kralscell of fear, the phobia of thoughts, the archon of futility. Roaming the abyss, they laugh at hubris, waiting for a scream to lull them to sleep. Those who conquer their deepest fears are gifted with her indifference."
"The tenth kralscell of control, the orbiting lord, the archon of law. In their lapis halls, they seek to judge and be judged, in search of the gaze powerful enough to crush the heavens with its authority. Anyone who shields others may earn his benevolence."
"The eleventh kralscell of sentience, the voracious traveler, the archon of severance. Driven by an insatiable curiosity, they journey across planets, whispering only truths, conquering all they encounter, and consuming their own madness in search of answers. If you fall under their gaze, who knows what dreams will follow."
"The twelfth kralscell of order, the abandoned heart, the archon of dominance. Sitting upon her white throne, she battles the corruptor alone, praying to redeem the lost and heal the wounded with her gut-wrenching love. She will help you—if you are willing to accept her love."
"The thirteenth kralscell of ash, the ending grace, the archon of failure. Holding the leash of their jade lover, they watch from afar, disinterested in all but their children. They wait for the day they may rage against those who harm the final family. Only those who understand death can feel her cold touch."
Sitting quietly in my seat, I had little to add to Doctor Istorija's theories or storytelling. Her depiction of the kralscell's was accurate, as far as my knowledge allowed. I hadn't witnessed everything first-hand, though I had been part of some of the key moments.
"Wow~!" Quinella, utterly enthralled, scribbled hurriedly in her notebook before setting it down and giving the doctor a standing ovation. "Bravo! Well done, doctor!" The theatre erupted in applause, filling the space with the sounds of thousands who had come to watch from across the stars—and perhaps even more, watching from their homes via screens.
I had only one question: What did the kralscell's secretly present in the crowd think of the doctor's history lesson?
Three kralscell's and their aether filled the room, subtly competing for dominance, almost on equal footing. It was a shame I couldn't enter the fray just yet, but Thorn and I could have our fun tomorrow.
As the applause continued, Doctor Istorija disappeared behind the curtain, waving and blowing a kiss.
While Quinella continued to applaud, I glanced at her from the corner of my eye and asked, "Did you enjoy yourself?"
"Very much," she replied, still clapping. "Information about the kralscell's is usually hidden by the C.G.A., and the kralscell's themselves are paradoxical beings, nearly impossible to find or approach."
Chuckling lightly, I stood up, patted my leather coat, and began to leave without another word, offering a silent two-fingered salute. I was the first to exit from the standing ovation, and it seemed Quinella didn't notice my departure.
It's probably best I leave before those three realize I'm here, I thought to myself.
In a small flash of amber light, I vanished down the hall, racing to the back of the building in less than three seconds. Now standing outside in a narrow alley, I paused for a moment, listening carefully until I heard someone hastily approaching the door beside me, despite the pink beanie covering my ears.
Blowing the door open, a woman emerged, wearing the same moth-like lab coat as the historian who had presented the seminar—but this one was much younger, with more elegant clothing beneath. She adjusted her silky emerald hair and peered at me through her new blindfold. "Ah, Strife. Thank you for coming."
With a swift motion, the woman's arm spun around, revealing several separations in her body. Upon closer inspection, I saw wooden joints in her legs and neck, though they were quickly covered by her dress. She was a puppet—a magical item designed to project one's consciousness or soul.
"Did you enjoy the show?" she asked, carefully arranging her green hair into a bun. The puppet also conjured a new blue dress from the air, adjusting her disguise. "I noticed you sitting next to my former student again today. I imagine that wasn't by accident."
"Maybe not, Sathuna," I grinned. The puppet handed me a brooch shaped like a spiked leaf, pressing it into my hand forcefully. "But I'll say I enjoyed the show. Everything you said was true, but I suspect there are some people you're running from who might think otherwise."
"Actually—" Sathuna struggled as she donned an arm sock. "It's
I reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out a small square mirror and holding it up for Sathuna, allowing her to adjust her hair and brooch. As I did, I sensed three notable figures swiftly making their way through the building, heading directly for where Sathuna and I were. I acted as if I were unaware.
"Thank you very much, Strife." Done with her hair, Sathuna wrapped her arms around my neck and jumped up, forcing me to carry her in my arms. "You know where to go, or would you like someone to guide you, Traveler?" She looked smug, clearly enjoying herself.
"Just hang on tight. You're fragile." Empowering my body with aether once again, I bolted out of the alley and sprinted through the city at Mach speed, leaving no one the wiser as I slid past them before arriving outside a deserted warehouse, in the city's less populated area.
I set Sathuna down gently onto her high heels, and the green-haired beauty stretched her arms as if they were her real body. She spun around, flashing me a smile. "Thank you, Strife. I hoped you would come, but I thought Thorn would have fought tooth and nail to be at a bar somewhere."
"I did try to." Revealing himself, the crow manifested atop my scalp. "This bastard was curious if you were sponsored by the CGA for your seminar."
"Hahaha~. The only way those political oafs would take any interest in history is if I poisoned them with it." Enjoying herself, Sathuna locked her arm in mine and began dragging me down the street toward the warehouse. "So, my dear Traveler mine, care to escort a defenceless woman back to her abode?"
Scoffing at the clear lie, I grinned and indulged her. "It would be my honour to be your custodian, [Witch Queen]." Being gentlemanly, I escorted Sathuna down the deserted street with our arms interlocked, walking like she was a celebrity and I was her bodyguard until we reached the warehouse doors.
Opening the way for her, I let Sathuna enter first, following closely with Thorn still perched on my head.
"Hm?" Noticing our presence, a man with pale-copper skin lifted a book titled 'The Art of the Con' from his face and glanced at me and the woman ahead of me. "You're here, Strife. How nice of you to bring the extra baggage as well—ow!"
A dense baton was flung at the man by Sathuna, knocking him off his seat and onto the cold stone floor. Stepping on the man's chest with her heels, Sathuna looked down at him, her expression one of annoyance. "I told you to get the best broadcasting team, not amateurs who can't even set up cameras properly. Heru, you're going to pay for this."
Sighing with exaggerated pain, despite the heel digging into his ribs, Heru wheezed, "They were the best on Idaten! If you're going to complain so much, you should've done it yourself."
Not liking his response, Sathuna dug her heel into Heru's chest even more, making him squeal.
Quickly giving in, Heru caved. "Alright, alright! How much?"
"Twenty million credits. Make sure to exclude taxes." Lifting her heel off his chest, Sathuna sat down in Heru's former seat and peeked at his book. Blushing for a moment, she tossed it aside when she realized it was a porno.
"I thought you disliked physical violence?" After I spoke, Sathuna gestured for me to hand her the drink on the floor. Being kind enough, I indulged her, picking up the orange glass and placing it in her fingers.
"The fool only understands authority through displays." Sipping the orange juice that was once Heru's, Sathuna seemed to savour it, letting out a pleasant breath that annoyed him greatly. Once finished, she acted as though she'd just remembered something. "Strife, do you happen to know where Sifo Ren is?"
Though I knew it was just a rhetorical question, I answered nonetheless. "The black alley. Said he went to investigate the new mercenary team that helped you and Wukong on the [Putrefaction Archers] world inside the Calban system's black hole."
"The black alley?" Getting up from the floor, Heru looked surprised. "Clara and Kimaris said they were headed there as well to gather a few rare items common on Idaten. Wukong might've said something about going as well."
"So, everyone else has gone to Idaten's black market?" I asked apathetically. "Without any supervision from you two?"
"That's not good at all," Thorn stated gravely, slapping his wing against his face. "Well, at least we're the well-behaved ones for once."
Huffing through my nostrils, I had a feeling I knew what would happen next. "Why am I always the babysitter?" I muttered before turning to leave the warehouse. "Come on, Thorn."
"Do make sure to keep yourself hidden, Strife," Sathuna raised her voice, and I waved back at her briefly to show I was listening.
[Skill: Autumn King's Conquest - Mach rush!]
In a flash of orange and silver light, I accelerated out of the warehouse and made my way back into the city, searching for the black alley where an inevitable fight was about to start.