Those creations of Orsaga's.
The mediums he had carefully prepared.
Once they were formally activated.
In that exceedingly brief instant.
Orsaga clearly sensed that the power he could wield within the Trapezoidal Spacetime Layer had directly soared, much like having his internet speed upgraded.
Though the situation was still far from being as free as in the formal activity zone, it was already completely sufficient.
Right now.
So long as he wished it.
He could project a portion of his power into it at any time and carry out all manner of operations.
In this regard.
Those seven spear-like weapons that had been forged would serve as his relatively hidden special anchors, subtle and quiet, not proactively stirring up any messy trouble.
As for the seven hatched lifeforms, they would be relatively more active. Provided they abided by the prerequisites for activity, they could freely carry out all sorts of actions, while his influence would continuously spread outward through them.
Faced with such a situation.
Given that someone was still taking the blame for him, Orsaga was naturally incomparably satisfied...
Having someone take the blame for him was a bonus.
The one taking the blame had been forced into it.
That was an extra bonus on top of the bonus...
The only thing more delightful than benefiting himself was benefiting himself while someone else was forced to take the blame for him~
As for the tree having been turned into such a miserable state.
And the Trapezoidal Spacetime Layer looking as though it were swaying amid wind and rain, on the verge of collapse—what use were the measures he had infiltrated it with?
That was not a problem.
Someone would deal with it~
And very quickly, at that.
Orsaga knew that very clearly...
Several seconds later.
While the Seven-Horned