“No, it wasn’t hard at all.”
“About what happened before—my apologies,” Soren said. “When that girl gets vicious, there’s nothing I can do.”
Barnett laughed. “It’s fine. I planned to be reborn anyway—this was just two months early.”
“Besides,” he added with a grin, “you send pretty girls my way from time to time. Hard to call that lonely.”
“No wonder you look less healthy than you did in your sixties,” Soren said, chuckling nastily.
“Compared to you, I can’t compete,” Barnett said. He snickered. “So—why did you call me in?”
“The general and I want you to make a few more… stronger guardians,” Soren said.
“Guardians?” Barnett frowned. “Don’t we already have the Seven… I mean, the Six Demon Kings?”
“We’re down to three,” Soren said with a sigh. “And they’re damn useless. One defected, and two got butchered like chickens.”
“Every time we send them out, we lose another one. How could the general and I trust our safety to that pile of trash?”
Graham didn’t bother with tact. “They’re outdated. I want ones like Ollie Ofor—loyal, and hard to kill.”
“Unfortunately, the immortal Ollie Ofor is dead,” he continued, “and Ogen has upgraded into a superintelligent entity. Edean is desperate for guardians with real combat power.”
“If you could make something like Miller, even better,” Soren said. “But it has to be loyal. And it needs real safeguards.”
Barnett scratched his head. “But it took us seventy years to make those three. Miller took three hundred—and he’s still a half-finished product.”
“It’s a long, painful process. There’s no way to do it quickly.”
“Yeah, I’ve thought about that,” Soren said. “So… it doesn’t have to be the lizardman type. Just make something strong.”
“Uh…” Barnett said. “I don’t follow.”
“Back then, above the Seven Demon Kings, wasn’t there a Demon God?” Soren said. “That thing’s power was insane. And you made that monster in, what, a few months?”
Barnett’s smile wavered. “You mean Mordia? That requires a human template. And the success rate is low.”
“We can afford to burn through a few people,” Soren said.
“It’s not a matter of cost,” Barnett said. “The pain is beyond anything ordinary people can endure.”
“You need someone with an absurdly strong will. You might not find one in ten thousand. Most people can’t survive even the first mutation.”
“Back then you could’ve picked anyone, and you picked Little White’s father,” Graham said. “But was that mutant really that strong? And how did Mordia die?”
“In the arena,” Soren said. “By his daughter’s blade.”
“That match drove the whole world insane,” Soren went on. “People bet themselves into ruin.”
“And when Little White realized the monster she’d killed was her own father…” Soren’s face tightened. “That look in her eyes—thinking about it still makes my guts shake.”
Graham looked interested. “Oh? And what did she do?”
“She burned all of Evil Desire Island to the ground,” Soren said. “Including the spectators. Eight or nine out of ten never made it out.”
Graham laughed. “Good. Let it burn.”
“Hey—Grah!” Soren started to protest, then deflated. “That was my family’s business…”
“Not when it happened,” he added grudgingly.
“You should thank her,” Graham said with a mocking smile. “She also killed your father and four brothers.”
“Otherwise, you—an illegitimate child—would never have inherited House Dalton’s fortune. Right?”
“You really do have no filter,” Soren said.
“So the strongest one is still that fragile-looking little girl,” Graham said.
“No, no,” Barnett said quickly. “I saw Mordia fight her with my own eyes. She was losing badly.”
“If her father hadn’t regained a sliver of awareness, recognized his daughter, and deliberately exposed a weak point, she would’ve died.”
“Enough detours,” Soren snapped, impatience creeping in. “The point is: how do we recreate something like Mordia? It’s been years. Surely the tech has improved.”
“Exactly,” Graham said. “Don’t tell me it’s impossible before you even try. From today on, the Level -2 lab is yours. Ask for whatever you need.”
“We’ll keep an eye out for suitable candidates too.”
“All right,” Barnett said. “I’ll go back and think it through.”
He stood to leave. Soren told Solinna to see him out.
A few minutes later, Solinna returned, escorting a man in an electric wheelchair.
The newcomer was missing his right hand and left leg. His face was twisted with anger. He saluted Graham with his left hand.
“Plando will prevail.”
“Plando will prevail,” Graham answered, returning only half a salute. “Major Heligen. I read your report.”
“You showed courage under a surprise attack. Twinmoon Island and Goldenwave Island were taken, but the fault isn’t yours.”
“I’m promoting you to lieutenant colonel.”
“Thank you, General,” Heligen said, saluting again.
“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Graham said. “With superior numbers, why didn’t Wyatt press the advantage? Why did he only steal an old escort frigate?”
“I… I don’t dare draw conclusions,” Heligen said. “But before he left, Wyatt said something to me.”
“What?”
“He said… he said he would make you—”
“Spit it out,” Graham said.
“Yes, sir.” Heligen swallowed. “He said you would pay for your lies. That he would become your nightmare.”
“That his warships would appear over Lansen at random, just like at Twinmoon Bay, and destroy our bases and factories whenever they pleased.”
Soren jerked upright. “He really said that?”
Graham wasn’t angry. He burst out laughing. “Interesting. A tin can that thinks it can play games with me.”
“What’s he implying?” Soren asked.
“He wants me to spread out the Aurora Plateau forces,” Graham said, flatly. “So he can raid Edean more easily.”
Heligen let out a long sigh. “As expected of you, General. It took me days in the hospital before I figured that out.”
“And there’s more,” Graham said. “He was also trying to cover for why he stole that frigate in the first place.”
“So what’s on that frigate?” Soren demanded. “Why does he care so much? Did you ever get aboard?”
“I didn’t have time,” Heligen said. “They attacked before I could. Only Jody and Boca got inside.”
“Then bring them in,” Soren said.
Graham glanced down at the report on his desk. “Jody is dead. Boca defected.”
Soren’s face darkened. “What the hell? Another defector. If we catch him, I’ll make him regret it.”
Heligen looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him. “I’m sorry, General. My lord. The South Silent Ocean Sector produced a disgraceful traitor under my command.”
“Combining Ogen’s report with yours,” Graham said, “I’m convinced Wyatt came for that escort frigate. It’s probably about the data stored aboard.”
“Why?” Soren asked.
“Because Jody was transporting the ship’s storage unit to Edean,” Graham snapped. “And Blin intercepted it on the way.”
“Did you even read the damn report?”
“Right,” Heligen said, remembering. “Wyatt didn’t plan to take Boca with him at first. But that shameless bastard kept insisting he could repair the warship. Wyatt listened—and took him.”
Graham frowned deeper. “Then we need to find out why they were so desperate for that old ship.”
“Send a team to the Tower Clan military ruins,” he ordered. “Find every scrap of data connected to that vessel.”
Heligen saluted. “Understood, General.”
“My lord—General,” Solinna cut in. “The Third Space Exploration Team has a signal coming in.”
“It’s Cole,” Soren said. “Patch him through.”
“Yes, sir. Signal connected.”
A hologram flared to life in the office: Cole, standing on what looked like a warship bridge.
“Lord Dalton. General Graham,” Cole said, saluting.
“Ah! My dear Cole,” Soren said with a smile. “How’s the star-sea treating you? Any good news?”
“Yes,” Cole said. “I didn’t fail your expectations. Take a look at what I found…”
He flicked his hand and opened a secondary display beside him.
Soren and Graham both froze, then stood and leaned closer to the holographic screen.
Between several asteroids lay a hidden base—massive. A giant warship was under construction. And in the port berths, Limit and the damaged Sky Shield were faintly visible.
Cole’s smile turned smug.
“I found Deep Space Base No. 2.”