Chapter 190

As soon as I stepped outside, a flash of blue light came from afar, and several buildings were buried in ice.

I wasn’t the only one who came out at the sound of the explosion.

People staying at the inn where I was also came out wondering what happened, and some people from the residential houses even came out with weapons.

Maybe because it’s this kind of world, I saw quite a few people armed with swords or wearing armor.

I cut through the crowd and headed towards the most intense scene in this village.

Though it’s a low-density village with barely any buildings over three stories, there are still plenty of people.

A pungent burning smell mixes faintly with the metallic stench.

City center.

The place with the barbed-wire-enclosed building.

There, soldiers and civilians are fighting.

You’d think that when soldiers fight civilians, the soldiers would just slaughter them, but here, many individuals possess a certain level of combat power.

That “certain level” isn’t just about swinging clubs around.

Some are wielding swords, blunt weapons, and shields for defense up front, while others are casting powerful magic spells from behind.

On the civilian side, it looks like a fantasy-style militant group, whereas the army opposing them resembles something straight out of steampunk, using mechanical devices—making them look more like a futuristic military force.

It’s weird.

What’s weird? There’s not a single civilian using mechanical devices.

Unless you’re dirt poor, you’d usually use a mechanical device. Thinking about the mechanical device on an airship that suddenly started killing people, I get the gist—it probably became unusable for some reason.

While figuring things out bit by bit, I arrived at the battlefield. Since my brain is slow, reality hits before I fully understand anything.

“Uaaaaah!”

Next to me, a man whose body is half-burned screams. In a battlefield with flying magic, lives disappear in various ways.

At least he didn’t die instantly—that’s lucky.

I crouched beside him and waited until his screaming subsided. Once his mind becomes clouded by pain and he loses almost all strength to move…

When he reaches the point where he has to cling to even a rotten rope, I ask:

“Do you want to live?”

That man mumbles yes. Though too weak to make a proper sound, I can understand him.

So I recite the contract.

“I’ll give myself to you. In return, once you’ve finished everything, I’ll take everything you have. How’s that?”

If you think about the context, it’s strange. After asking if he wants to live, I say I’ll give myself to him. A sane person would probably ask what the heck I’m talking about.

But in this situation, wouldn’t you grab even a straw?

Cherik.

Soon, his entire body hardens like pottery and crumbles away, revealing blue skin underneath. Hmm, so he really was dying.

If your limbs aren’t blown off or you don’t have some serious disease, it usually ends with white skin.

Anyway.

That man stood up with a bewildered face. After I got up too, I told him:

“Do whatever you want.”

Then I moved on to the next target.

Among those who witnessed the man recover, the injured ones approached first.

I recite the contract.

That person heals their wound.

The more people see me healing wounds, the more they come running, begging to be saved.

Hehe.

“That girl is healing people! Kill her!”

Someone shouted loudly from where the soldiers were gathered. Turning my gaze, I see a soldier in brass-colored exoskeleton armor wielding a weapon coming toward me.

However, the harvester seriously blocks them with a stern expression.

Once transformed into a harvester, all functions improve overall. Even the ability to use magic power increases.

Those who fell once before return stronger to the battlefield.

Plus, intelligence improves too.

Meaning they strike weaker spots better.

As the balance of power shifts, the soldiers start getting pushed back. The injured transform into harvesters and rush back into battle.

One man’s luck is another’s misfortune. While soldiers try to kill me, citizens try to protect me.

As the pile of soldier corpses grows, I approach them now. Soldiers trapped in dented brass armor, dying.

Their sides are filled with broken gears—wounds that could easily cause instant death.

I approach one and recite the contract.

At that moment, the surroundings grow silent.

“What…is going on?”

The dying soldier asks me.

So I say:

“You’re dying.”

I believe he won’t refuse becoming a harvester. And he answers that belief.

His entire body turns brittle like pottery, the brass armor cracks open, and a man with blue skin emerges like being reborn from an egg.

“Do whatever you want from now on.”

With that, he smashes his head into the ground—in other words, bows.

“I will follow you.”

Something feels very religious. And scarier still, it spreads quickly.

People around begin bowing to me one by one.

Hey, isn’t it weird that a cult forms despite my wishes? Normally, they should just thank me and praise my morality, right?

Or maybe express gratitude and then betray me—”Thanks for healing me, now die!”

There’s no brainwashing function in making harvesters!

“Hey Bell? What…is this…?”

Turning my head, I see Victoria standing a bit far away. Nearby, Polaris clings to Victoria’s clothes, trembling.

Victoria?

Why does she look like she knew this day would come?

Does she think it’s natural to worship me? Hey, have you forgotten the moment we first met?

That fish monster over 7 meters tall?

It’s eerily quiet now. Except for the shouts from the fortress surrounded by barbed wire ordering someone to kill “that woman,” the surroundings are strangely silent.

As if the battle never happened, everyone stops and bows their heads toward me.

No…yeah.

Let’s just use this for now. We need more harvesters here. The person ordering attacks here might not be the one responsible for all this.

In other words, we need more harvesters.

If mechanical devices turn against us, we’ll be at a disadvantage. So we need more eyes to assess the situation.

“Bring the wounded.”

Even if this increases the number of worshippers, I can drive them away later whether they follow me or not.

As soon as I finish speaking, people bring severely wounded individuals close to death.

One by one, the injured pile up in front of me, and I approach them to recite the contract.

Since it’s almost like a civil war, some of the people I made harvesters earlier are among the injured. I ignore them; once a harvester, they can’t be healed again.

Becoming a harvester is like throwing a cup into a puddle. When the cup fills with me, it becomes a harvester.

That’s irreversible. Once inside, you can’t go back.

What? You want me to hand over the warmth in my hands? Why should I pass it on? I’d rather make the next harvester.

Anyway, if you ignore the harvesters, you understand I’m not worth worshipping, right?

That’s when it happened.

A faint streak of light shoots out from behind a building and passes by where I am. At that moment, the memory of the newly acquired harvester flashes.

The precursor of the Great Weapon Craft Nine.

And that Craft Nine refers to the weapon that fired beams at airships.

Ah.

***

A very thin thread of light emerges from the wall of a building, passes by where Bell is, and touches the opposite building.

As people wonder what this light is,

“Everyone, get out of the way!”

A soldier standing near Bell shouted, grabbing Bell and diving away.

Most people at that spot, including Victoria, froze not knowing what was happening, but a few moved.

For instance, people like the soldier who shielded Bell, understanding what this phenomenon was, or those who reacted instinctively, or even Polaris, who wanted to leave the area and clung to Victoria’s clothes—they managed to move.

They threw themselves in the opposite direction of the light, holding onto what was precious to them.

And then…

PAAAAAAHHHHH!

A thick pillar of light replaced the faint streak, and an immense heat scorched the air along its path.

Dozens of people standing there instantly melted and evaporated by the beam.

Meanwhile, Polaris, who pulled Victoria backward by grabbing her body, took the brunt of the heat wave on her back.

Craft Nine is a weapon designed to counter airborne fortresses like flying battleships or massive flying monsters.

What happens if you fire it in the city?

Excessive firepower doesn’t just vaporize everything in its path but also causes secondary damage as the rapidly heated air expands and generates shockwaves.

But the attack itself is simple—a beam of light.

The light disappears quickly, leaving only the steaming trail it pierced through.

Thanks to Polaris, who grabbed Victoria and pulled her behind herself, Victoria avoided fatal injuries and stood up when the grip loosened.

Looking around, she sees a scorching hell.

Her gaze lands on Polaris next to her, and Victoria involuntarily gasps.

Polaris is suffering from severe burns on her back, most of her hair burned off, and is dying. She needs immediate first aid or she’ll die.

Thinking this, Victoria instinctively searches for Bell.

She hopes Bell can somehow heal her.

Amidst the boiling ground, charred corpses, and people dying from burns, Victoria spots the person she’s looking for—or rather, the person she used to know.

Pure white hands and clothing.

Bell’s hands.

But there’s barely any flesh left. The arm is charred black up to the elbow, and beyond that, white bones are exposed.

Even those bones bubble and melt away.

The moment she realizes what this means…

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Victoria roars.

Now, let’s examine Victoria’s psychic abilities.

She controls water.

Fueled by rage, she loses half her sanity and pulls every ounce of her power.

And this is a port city.

Water is everywhere.

In resonance with Victoria’s fury, moisture in the air and seawater from the harbor rise toward her.

Streams of water stretch out from all directions, converging above Victoria’s head to form a mass.

The mass gradually fills the sky, and eventually, the sky transforms into a water surface.

Even after that, water continues to flow in from the distant sea, increasing its volume without stopping.

Finally, the small port city is literally underwater.

Deep beneath the ocean. In the pitch-black abyss, the girl who created this prison of hatred to leave not a single enemy alive takes a deep breath.

With a determined expression, Victoria Bet begins to crush her enemies, just like she did long ago at Daegon’s forward base.

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