Chapter 7: Lilium Strikes Back

*1*

“Here’s a little story you can take with you to the afterlife,” Maxwell began, his eyes gleaming darkly.

Once upon a time, 300 years ago, back when Maxwell was in his prime... the war-torn empire of Pajan was nearly unrecognizable.

Back then, women and men alike held jobs and titles of equal importance. Each person made a living on the merit of their own achievements. If one were to dig through the old, yellowed documents stored within Ode Castle, one would surely find records of female Guildmasters and Court Mages... not that those files were available to the general public, of course.

At the time, Maxwell was a painfully mediocre man. He had the track record—and the pedigree—to earn himself a spot among the Court Mages, but when contrasted with their talent and genius, he came out looking awfully average.

Cliché as it was, the pursuit of immortality was his life’s work, but his research was going nowhere. In contrast, the other Court Mages all had titles like “Sorceress” or “Wizard” and could cast spells without incantations. They were hailed as heroes on the battlefield; Maxwell was a nobody. And so the war waged on and on... and in the meantime, he pretended not to notice the desperate desire growing in his gut.

Then, one day, Maxwell noticed that all the most successful Court Mages had one thing in common: they were all working in weapons development, crafting spells that even ordinary Mages could use—anything to give the Pajanese foot soldiers even a tiny bit more strength. Their work was focused entirely on the war.

Then Maxwell started thinking.

Immortality was basically a form of body modification. If he could create a powerful, autonomous super-soldier that was guaranteed never to turn on them—that was sure to get him noticed. And for an under-achiever like Maxwell, this was an enticing prospect.

First, he would need a superior specimen to serve as his test subject. To that end, he began to search for people with a naturally high capacity for mana... but he needed someone who lacked agency. Someone who wouldn’t rebel against him. A short while later, he realized: of course. He could just create that person himself.

And so Maxwell decided to get married. His bride-to-be: a shrine maiden who served at a temple that worshipped the Dragon God. Once the marriage had been arranged, a young woman descended from the sacred mountain a few weeks later to meet him. She had long, silky black hair, porcelain skin, and icy, almond-shaped eyes. But most importantly, she was possessed of an extremely high mana capacity. After all, she was a high-ranked shrine maiden, said to be a descendant of the Dragon God himself.

Maxwell had used his status as a Court Mage, his wit, his wealth, and his connections, to acquire her. And with the current political climate as a convenient excuse, he succeeded in marrying her. The mountain had been forced to give her up in exchange for their continued autonomy as an independent state.

Maxwell reveled in his own omnipotence. Through many years of being a nobody, his ego had taken a beating. But now he had a trophy wife that he could use as he saw fit. Every night, he took her to bed with one order: bear my child.

That was all he wanted from her—an innocent, untainted child that carried the blood of the Dragon God in its veins. Using that child, he would create the ultimate super-soldier and seize all the glory for himself.

But their marriage was a short one. After their daughter was born, Maxwell’s wife left him. She had to return to the temple, or so she claimed. But they both knew it was just an excuse.

Everyone around him laughed at him for having lost the perfect woman... and Maxwell found this humiliation hard to bear. So he vowed to himself: in place of the wife who had abandoned him, he would create the perfect daughter. A daughter who would obey him—who would never betray him.

*2*

“Laplace... I gave you everything. I taught you all the magic I could, right from an early age. Then I enhanced your body so you could wield it. And as a result, you acquired immortality—the very thing I so desperately sought as a Mage! You wouldn’t be the person you are today without me!” Maxwell roared. “One would think you’d show a little gratitude, but no—you always looked at me with nothing but resentment in your eyes! And you had such a rebellious attitude!”

“Uh huh...”

“I was wrong. I never should have let a woman wield power! That’s why you never learned to respect your father!”

“...Uh huh...”

Indeed, not only was Maxwell abandoned by his wife, but his beloved daughter treated him with barely-concealed contempt. For the life of him, he just couldn’t understand why. As the days wore on, his paranoia deepened... and eventually, he became convinced that it was their strength and intelligence that was to blame.

“I will create the perfect Bride—a powerful, loyal, obedient Bride. That has always been my dream... Hasn’t it, Laplace?”

“You’re sick...”

“To that end, I have crafted and incubated vessels of all kinds, all different races, all different bloodlines. I was told to spare no expense—we were at war, after all. As long as it served my country, I could do anything I wanted and get away with it! I was a hero!”

His expression was one of ecstasy as he confessed to his sins.

“For 300 years, I tried to recreate you—or rather, a more obedient version of you. But no matter what I did, it just didn’t work! Each one I made was nothing but a drastically inferior version of you, or your mother. And so now I’m convinced: for an immortal bride, I need your blood. I need the mana of the Dragon God!”

He chuckled.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long, long time.”

His lips curled into a smirk... and Tanya realized what was about to happen.

“Look out!”

But it was too late. A magic circle expanded beneath them.

“Nnngghhh...! What... spell is this...?!”

She fell to her knees as the strength faded from her body. Glancing around, she could see Laplace, Arianora, and Vis all topple to the ground, unable to stand. He’s... draining... our mana...!

Maxwell let out a maniacal laugh. “Heh heh... Hahahaha! Yes! Truth be told, all I needed was Laplace, but... I must say, you ladies are all fine specimens in your own right!”

He smiled to himself, entranced, as he gazed at a nearby measuring device. Meanwhile, the little girls in the tanks all around them—the “vessels”—began to grow in response to the mana funneled into them. Bubbles rose from their lips, as though they were starting to breathe.

“Wonderful... So many Brides, all brimming with the utmost respect for me! Sadly, I was forced to part ways with Arianora in order to win points with the royal family, but... No, I mustn’t let any of them have their own identity. That was where I went wrong with you, Laplace... I still regret the way you turned out.”

Tanya tried to challenge this... but her voice wouldn’t come. She couldn’t speak.

“If only I could have beaten it out of you, right from the start. That way you couldn’t resent me.”

In his mind, a proper woman was subservient above all else. Fuck that.

“But, seeing as I have such a fine collection of vessels here... once they awaken as Brides, I’ll do them all a favor and erase their identities. Then they’ll be perfect.” His lips curled in a sinister smile. “I’m going to make you all very happy.”

Then he strolled forward, grabbed Arianora by the arm, and dragged her out of the magic circle. She let out a piercing scream.

“With your intellect and mana capacity, you are my true masterpiece... How I regret letting you act as the princess.”

Vis gasped audibly. “Your Highness!” she shouted, reaching with all her might in Arianora’s direction.

“Hmph... You’ve outlived your usefulness, you mewling quim. Die!”

He delivered a hard kick to her stomach, then turned back to Arianora with a smile.

“Now then, let’s put you back into your tank. That way we can erase all those pesky memories and return you to a soulless vessel. Once I complete my army of loyal soldiers, we will have no further need of this country.”

His enraptured gaze wasn’t looking at her, but to something beyond.

“We can live somewhere quiet—on a distant mountaintop, perhaps. Yes, it’s high time the Court Grand Mage got to spend a peaceful life of retirement with his Brides and beloved daughter...”

Tanya shuddered. What she sensed from his smile was... affection. He sincerely believed that women—or perhaps all people excluding himself—were better off without an identity of their own.

“Dis...gusting...!” she spat, fighting against the nauseating sensation of mana being siphoned from her body.

At this, Maxwell’s expression clouded over. “Excuse me?”

“I said... you’re disgusting! You keep... talking about people like they’re... objects! Even your own... daughter!”

Maxwell laughed coldly. “Yes, well, objects don’t rebel.”

“Fuck you...!”

And then Tanya heaved herself to her feet.

She could feel her bones creaking as every joint in her body resisted. Truth be told, her mana levels were so low, she wanted nothing more than to collapse to the floor and pass out, as Vis and Arianora had. But no. She was going to stand up.

Meanwhile, Maxwell stared down at her. “Oho. Getting back up, are we?”

She glared at him. Just wait until I wipe that stupid smirk off your face.

There were so many little girls out there dreaming of adventure—she couldn’t let them down. She had to keep fighting for them. For Arianora.

“Tanya...!” Laplace wheezed, breathing heavily.

“Hi, Laplace,” Tanya grinned.

Judging from the way Laplace was sprawled out on the floor, she suspected that this particular spell was increasingly more effective on those with larger capacities for mana. But that was no excuse.

“Tell me, Great Sorceress... is that all you’ve got?” she declared.

At this, Laplace burst out laughing. Her smile was pure and unwavering.

Without her mana, she couldn’t levitate like she usually did, but nevertheless—

“Nnnrrgghh... Non... non... Tanya... You’d do well... not to underestimate me!”

—she pushed herself up onto her feet. On behalf of her younger self—who hadn’t been strong enough to stand up to him—she was going to make a stand.

“We’re not in trouble yet! This isn’t even my final form... I still have 530,000 more phases to go!”

*3*

Why?

Maxwell clenched his jaw. 300 years ago, despite the lethargic resentment in her eyes, his daughter Laplace had carried out his orders without complaint. Why now, of all times, did she glare at him with such spirited resistance?

For 300 years, he had worked to defang the women of this country. First he sealed the Great Sorceress away; then he built a system that would rob women of opportunities for advancement and funnel them into Healer jobs. He made ineffective armor the standard. All so they could never mock him again.

Meanwhile, he spent 300 years exchanging a series of (conventionally attractive) bodies in order to advance his agenda as Court Grand Mage. And yet... the women before him still had the strength to rise up against him. Why? Why did they glare at him like that?

“Impertinent whores!”

He raised his hand high, increasing the output on the mana siphoning spell. They could try to resist all they wanted, but they were still trapped in his magic circle. Like caged birds, all they could do was stay put and wait to die.

I’ll sit back and watch the agony on their faces as I drain every last drop of their mana. I’m sure Laplace will survive it—and as for these other women, who cares?

“Die!”

But just as he was about to bring his hand down—

“Forgetting something?” asked a voice behind him. A female voice.

It was the foxkin Mage.

“Take this! Fox-Fireball!!!”

As a shower of pale blue fireballs rained down upon him, he could make out a second figure standing beside the foxkin: the lavender-haired girl who had escaped earlier. He began to panic. How had she crept up on him? He hadn’t sensed her approaching at all!

“Katherine! Nadine!” Tanya exclaimed.

“Seriously, you guys totally forgot about us, didn’t you?” Katherine laughed.

And though her mana was still being drained away, it was a laugh Tanya managed to return in kind. “Okay, you’re right! I kinda did! I’m so sorry!!!”

“Figured as much! But that’s okay, since it worked out in our favor!”

Indeed, they’d caught Maxwell entirely off-guard. He was so distracted by Tanya and Laplace that he’d forgotten—no, simply turned his attention away from—the foxkin. And this tiny mistake was more than enough to upset him.

“Rrgh... How?! This spell is supposed to grow in strength the higher the subject’s level! You shouldn’t even be able to touch it!” he snapped.

“Yes, well... I’m Level 3,” Nadine muttered as she helped Katherine stay upright.

“What?!”

She laughed softly. “I’m only a Level 3 Healer, so I guess I must not be the target demographic for this spell.”

Indeed, Nadine registered at Level 3—as a Healer, anyway. And if the spell primarily preyed upon those with more advanced mana circuitry and storage capacity, then it was little wonder it hardly affected her at all.

As for her other class, Assassin, her abilities were honed purely through effort. No matter how high her level, those skills would never be drained away, least of all through her mana.

“Impossible! You snuck into the imperial castle... at Level 3?!”

“I’m afraid so. You see, while I may only be Level 3, I’m still Lilium’s Healer. And as it happens, stealth is my forte.”

Behind her lenses, there was a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Once again, Tanya found herself thinking: Remind me never to underestimate a Healer again!

Meanwhile, Katherine grinned to herself. She’d trusted that Nadine would be able to get them out of this, and sure enough, she was right. With Nadine’s help, she’d managed to unleash a Fox-Fireball attack with what little mana she still possessed.

Somehow, Katherine Foxxi had known that the woman who had bested her in the Sparring Tournament would find a way to turn this whole thing around. And thanks to Nadine, they’d successfully pulled one over on none other than the Court Grand Mage.

Her heart fluttered in her chest. What an adventure.

“How’s it feel to get tricked by a fox?!” she shouted.

“Serves you right!” Nadine chimed in.

Quietly, Katherine patted herself on the back for keeping quiet. “This makes twice you’ve saved my ass!”

At this, Nadine smiled... and flung a throwing knife from her dainty little hand.

“Wha...?!”

“Oh, how I love a good surprise attack!”

Maxwell flinched as it grazed his cheek—and embedded itself into the magic circle on the floor behind him, cutting off the flow of mana.

The power of any given spell was in the circuitry, and magic circles were designed to bolster those circuits. Cut off the flow, and... well... in terms of human biology, the effect was similar to slashing someone’s carotid artery.

With the magic circle rendered ineffective, the agonizing mana drain ceased its torment on Tanya and the others.

“Ridiculous!”

Maxwell swiftly reached out his hand. In the next instant, Arianora’s unconscious body floated into the air and moved over to him.

“Unfortunately for you, I’ve already acquired the minimum threshold of mana I need!”

Beneath them, the magic circle faded.

“You’re not getting away with this! Let her go, Maxwell!” Tanya roared.

Maxwell flinched slightly in the face of her unbridled rage, but quickly recovered. “Curses... No, it doesn’t matter. Take care of them for me, my beloved daughters.”

He raised his cape like a shield.

“Teleportation magic?! Stop him!” Tanya shouted.

Then she heard Laplace snap her fingers and heaved a sigh of relief. After all, Laplace could make anything happen. Sure, she’d forbidden herself from using attack magic, but that didn’t matter. She could use the stone paving and... and...

“...Huh?” Tanya blinked in confusion. “Wait, what?”

Until now, that familiar snap had always solved their problems... but this time, nothing happened.

“This can’t be happening...” Laplace muttered, defeated.

But sadly, Maxwell was already long gone.

*4*

A scream echoed through the laboratory:

“WHY THIS?!?!”

The four women of Lilium were surrounded by dozens of little girls, all with murderous intent.

After Maxwell had vanished, the glass tanks all suddenly shattered, and out crawled a whole bunch of girls, each with a soulless look in their eyes that suggested they were ready to kill.

“There’s so many! Wh... What do we do...?!” shouted Nadine, whose Assassin skillset was decidedly not geared toward fighting a large number of opponents at the same time.

Maxwell’s so-called “Brides” were artificial life-forms robbed of all agency, and as such, they moved like puppets as they closed in to attack.

“What the heck are these things?! Zombies or something?!” Katherine shrieked.

Admittedly their sluggish, lifeless gait was fairly reminiscent of the undead. But unlike any ordinary zombies—

“What the?! Did they just use Thunderbolt?!” Katherine shouted, blonde hair swaying, as a low crackle rent the air. “No incantation?! You gotta be freakin’ kidding me!”

While the spell itself was fairly basic, the Brides could cast it with startling accuracy... and with only a single snap of their tiny fingers. Just like Laplace.

“Uh, guys?”

Katherine glanced around the room. Girls, girls, girls, as far as the eye could see—each of them mistreated at the hands of Maxwell.

“Are we really supposed to attack them?!”

*5*

As a party, Lilium had purposely avoided causing harm to the innocent during their quests. This wasn’t a hard rule they’d agreed upon in advance; to them, it was just the right thing to do. And despite their hostile intentions, these artificial puppet girls were still innocent victims.

“Nngh... Aria...nora...!” Vis groaned from the floor.

“Vis! Are you awake?” Tanya asked as she knelt down and lifted the princess’s attendant into a sitting position.

The woman looked completely drained. No surprise there, of course, since royal attendants weren’t generally trained for combat.

Tanya lifted her into her arms. If nothing else, she wanted to rescue at least one person. But everywhere she looked, they were surrounded by electrified Brides. Katherine was shielding them for now, but her mana was just as limited as everyone else’s.

They were running out of time, and they needed to do something—fast.

“We need to get Vis on her feet again.”

“I... I’ll heal her!”

Nadine jogged over and started to cast Heal. Naturally, she was Level 3, so this was incredibly ineffective.

“...Thank you for trying...” Vis wheezed. Tears filled Nadine’s eyes.

“D-Don’t let it get you down, Nadine!”

“I... I’m sorry... I’m so sorry... If only I wasn’t Level 3...!” I promise I’ll be more of a Healer next time, she vowed to herself silently.

“The... clock tower...”

“What was that, Vis?”

In spite of her pained, ragged breathing, Vis struggled to get the message to Tanya regardless.

“I think he... he took the princess to the clock tower!”

*6*

Suppose, for a moment, that one of the people here had grown up helping their family run a tavern. Suppose they were a master of cooking... and all the other skills that came with it. Would they be useful in a situation like this one?

The answer... is a resounding yes.

“What’s the key to good cooking?”

Katherine swung her staff. On command, a flurry of tiny Fox-Fireballs shot forward, striking the Brides.

One would think their petite, naked forms would be burned to a crisp as a result, and yet—

“Heat control!”

The fireballs moved carefully, striking the Brides with precision to keep them from casting... but their skin remained unburned, their bones unbroken. The Fox-Fireballs were perfectly controlled bursts, their only intended function was to knock the Brides off-balance.

Heat control, indeed.

“You’re amazing, Katherine! A true master chef!”

“This is no time for jokes, Nadine! Protect that chick in white!”

She was, of course, referring to Vis, who was struggling to stand, but clearly lacked the energy to do so. She had lost a critical amount of mana, but regardless—

“H-Hurry... Please... Save the princess...!”

“Vis!”

“You can’t stay here, Tanya!” shouted Nadine.

“Don’t worry—we can buy you some time to escape, no problem! Now take Laplace and get going to that clock tower or whatever!” Katherine chimed in.

Their expressions were firm and resolute... and Tanya could tell that they had the utmost faith in her.

“Let’s go, Laplace,” she muttered quietly.

The Great Sorceress nodded and rose to her feet. At this, Tanya gasped.

She’s... standing?

Normally Laplace would always complain about foot pain and insist on levitating, but right now, both feet were planted firmly on the ground.

“Laplace...? You’re not going to levitate?”

“C’est exact. That rat bastard took all my mana.”

Her legs shook like a newborn fawn’s... but nevertheless, she held her own.

“But I don’t need to fly. I’ll run. Hell, I’ll even walk there if I have to. Because Maxwell is going down.”