Conference Room, Olympus Grand Temple, Interstellar City Mountain Range
This was the pinnacle of the Age of Gods and the ultimate achievement humanity could reach on another path of civilization.
In the center of the conference room floated a huge holographic star map, displaying the three Crypter members in various situations.
"Oh dear, this has become quite troublesome, Captain."
A frivolous voice laced with obvious mockery shattered the solemnity of the temple.
The speaker was a man wearing black-rimmed glasses, his eyes harboring twisted killing intent.
He lounged arrogantly on a throne that wasn't his, toying with a glowing short sword in his hand.
Beryl Gut.
The person in charge of the Sixth Lostbelt, who had fled here via spiritron transfer after messing up his own Lostbelt.
"I heard you got scared and ran away from a guy driving a red tin toy car in that fishy place? That's not like you, Captain."
Beryl licked his lips, a dangerous light in his eyes. "Is that Steve guy… really that strong? Even your Grand Magecraft can't handle him?"
Kirschtaria Wodime was not angered by Beryl's rudeness.
He maintained an elegant posture and quietly gazed at the rapidly approaching red dot on the star map.
"It's not that I can't handle him, Beryl. It's just not worth it."
Wodime said calmly. "The final battle in Atlantis will affect the growth of the Fantasy Tree."
"Furthermore… that man's power system far exceeds the Mage Association's understanding. It is pure violence that applies physical laws to the extreme."
"If I'm not fully prepared, even I could be defeated."
"Hah! Physical laws? How interesting."
Beryl chuckled as he spun the short sword quickly between his fingers. "He sounds like a barbarian who only knows hand-to-hand combat."
"I like this type the most… Slitting their throats must feel incredibly good."
"Beryl, don't let your guard down."
At that moment, a third voice rang out.
It was an emotionless voice, cold and mechanical like a machine.
On the opposite side of the conference room, a blurry holographic image slowly appeared.
It was David from the lost kingdom of South America.
"Steve's threat isn't just his own combat power."
David's eyes, as if seeing through the void, stared fixedly at the two people on the screen. "The key to the problem lies with the passengers on the Shadow Border."
The moment these words were spoken, the air in the conference room froze.
Wodime frowned slightly, while Beryl whistled.
"Kadoc Zemlupus, Ophelia Phamrsolone, Hinako Akuta, Scandinavia Peperoncino…"
David emotionlessly read out the names. Each one struck the hearts of the remaining Team A members like a heavy hammer.
"Out of the seven infiltration agents, four have already defected."
"The current New Chaldea, led by the mysterious Steve and the last human Master Ritsuka, surpasses us in combat strength."
"This is an internal conflict within Team A."
David concluded, "If we don't face this fact, Olympus will collapse."
"This is really… unbelievable."
Beryl's smile grew even more twisted, mixing excitement and killing intent. "Forget that useless Kadoc… but Ophelia and that female Master came too? Even Pepe? Hah! What is this, a class reunion?"
He suddenly stood up. The smell of blood emanated from his body.
"She's a traitor, so we should wipe her out, right, Captain? Why don't you hand Ophelia over to me? I've wanted to handle her properly for a long time."
"…Beryl."
Wodime's voice suddenly turned cold. Immense magical energy instantly filled the entire hall, freezing Beryl in place.
"If they chose that path, there must be a reason."
"As former comrades, I intend to give them a chance to receive enlightenment."
Wodime turned around, his eyes burning brightly.
"But this is Mount Olympus, an ideal paradise where gods and humans coexist."
"If they wish to deny the world, they must step over my corpse."
"Whether it's Steve, Ritsuka, or Kadoc… I will wait for their challenge at the peak of the Interstellar City."
"This is my final mission as Captain of Team A."
...
Central Park, Olympus Residential District
In contrast to the tense atmosphere of the Grand Temple, the residential area of Olympus looked surprisingly peaceful.
Artificial sunlight illuminated the clean streets, where long-lived citizens enjoyed the eternal peace granted by the gods.
On a park bench sat a pink-haired man wearing a white lab coat.
He held a strawberry cake he had just bought from a vending machine, but his face showed a complicated expression.
Romani Archaman.
Or rather, more accurately, the Chaldean wearing this skin.
"Good…"
He let out a long sigh and stabbed the strawberry on the cake hard with his fork.
"…This wasn't how it was supposed to go."
He muttered to himself while recalling the recent events in Atlantis.
According to his original prediction, the moment Wodime dropped the meteor on Atlantis should have been Chaldea's most despairing moment.
At that time, he would appear gallantly as the mysterious third party who sees through everything, intervene between Wodime and Chaldea, declare the line he had prepared for a long time—"I came here to correct all of this"—and leave looking dashing.
The script was perfect!
However…
"What the hell is that red tin man?!"
The Chaldean man covered his face in agony. "Just a broken rock? Is that something a magus should say? And he actually pushed it back! Physically pushed it back!"
When the unit named Sazabi emitted green psycho-optical light and forcefully pushed the meteor back into space, he—who had been hiding in the shadows preparing to appear—completely shattered.
"And… he actually drove away Wodime."
The Chaldean stuffed the strawberry into his mouth irritably and muttered unclearly, "…Then what am I? Just a passerby? Or a background character shouting slogans from behind?"
He began to suspect that this variable named Steve had been specially created to oppose him.
"…But there's nothing we can do about it."
After swallowing the cake, the Chaldean's eyes gradually deepened.
The weakness seen in Romani Archaman vanished.
In its place was a hair-raising coldness shared by both the Beast and the King.
"Now that a savior has appeared on the material level, the judgment on the spiritual level… may become even harsher."
He looked up toward the Grand Temple, from which an ominous divine light emanated.
"Steve, you have the power to change the present… but can you change the fated future?"
"Olympus… is a realm of magic that even Wodime cannot fully control."
"Let's wait and see a little longer… Let's see what kind of surprise you show on this stage where gods and humans, magic and technology intertwine."
With that, he stood up, brushed off the dust, put on his harmless and indifferent expression again, and blended into the crowd.
…
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