The Bloodstained

The stranger felt dizzy and lay on the ground with his eyes wide open like a corpse.

The night sky was reddened by the flames, and gargoyles made sharp noises and flew by like a swarm of bats.

It wasn't that he wanted to play dead to escape the attack, but rather that he felt his limbs were cold and numb, and he couldn't muster any strength.

—Besides, under his beloved creation, feigning death would be of no use anyway.

The gargoyle's outer shell is a product of the Amber Artisan; its essence is no different from that of a hellhound, its interior filled with the souls of familiars. However, the anti-magic statues crafted by the Amber Artisan are far more robust and reliable than those rusty scraps of iron.

Whether based on the Path of Twilight or the Path of Transcendence, they are exceptionally adept at manipulating the soul. From the very beginning, the Gargoyle's target acquisition mode has been aimed at the soul, so neither invisibility, disguise, nor feigning death are effective.

The fact that this stranger is lying here now suggests a sense of self-abandonment.

His mind is in complete chaos... If he were to be shot to death by the gargoyles, it might not be such a bad thing.

Strangely, the gargoyles did not attack him.

They simply hovered above them, emitting sharp, monkey-like cries; Alchemy Bomb were dropped, creating a series of explosions.

An explosion was almost within reach—dust flew up and landed on him. Perhaps because of the explosion, or perhaps for some other reason, the stranger felt a ringing in his ears and an increasingly intense dizziness.

In a daze, he seemed to have passed out, yet he also seemed to remain conscious. It felt like a very long time had passed, until the blood soaking his body had cooled down and become as taut as mud on his skin, before he finally heard other sounds.

It was a squad of soldiers dressed in black uniforms.

The leader was a captain. He looked to be in his thirties or forties, with a resolute gaze and a thick beard. His officer's uniform was looser than the others', and he wore a silver star-shaped metal badge on his chest, as well as white gloves typical of alchemists.

That signifies his identity—an alchemist.

"... It's been a long time, teacher."

The captain bowed his head and stood at attention respectfully, looking at the Master Nobel lying on the ground, and said in a deep voice.

The stranger remained silent, his face expressionless, as if he hadn't heard a word.

"The association specifically told us that if we were to meet you, we must ensure your safety."

Seemingly knowing that the Master Nobel would not say anything at this moment, the captain said to himself, "We will now escort you back to your country."

"Welcome back to Star Antimony, teacher."

"... I'm asking you."

Despite knowing he shouldn't be doing this, the stranger couldn't suppress the surging emotions and bitterness in his heart. He stared at the officer who was nominally his student, but whose name he didn't even know, and asked in a low voice, "Why attack civilians?"

"The Queen is dead, the Princess has fled, Avalon's army can't stop ours. We've already won! What's the point of having gargoyles bomb villages and slaughter civilians now?!"

He subconsciously identified himself as Stibnite Person.

Fortunately, Nobel did indeed have Star Antimony blood, and because of this, the captain laughed instead, "So you still think of yourself as Stibnite Person after all..."

"—Answer my question, Captain! Is this an order from your superior?!"

"Yes, that's the order I received."

Captain Xingti calmly said, "Because we need to rest and replenish our energy here."

Upon hearing this, the stranger was stunned for a moment.

He felt a wave of dizziness and suddenly realized something.

These self-disciplined, overwhelming gargoyles... are certainly not to be trifled with. And if they were to be sustained by magic, a large number of spellcasters would be needed as mana batteries to reach the front lines. But on Star Antimony, both alchemists and Demon Scholar hold high positions, making it impossible to dedicate so many spellcasters to the war.

Ultimately, the essence of this war stemmed from the spellcasters' unsuccessful demands for better treatment. Therefore, Valentine VII attempted to divert domestic attention by opening new markets. If the war itself required the intense involvement of these gentlemen, it would be putting the cart before the horse.

Since gargoyles are essentially familiars, they are like other demons... able to restore their magic power by consuming human souls and flesh.

Familiars themselves do not require much magical power, and therefore do not even need the soul of a superhuman.

Killing just one civilian can supply at least six gargoyles with enough power to fight for more than twenty hours straight.

...but.

but...

"I remember the army should have devices for replenishing the mana of gargoyles..."

The stranger instinctively said, "It shouldn't be necessary..."

These gargoyles were genuine "stone statues" until given the command. They remained stationary on the devices, able to stay there indefinitely as long as they weren't activated.

Hearing this, Captain Xingti simply smiled indifferently, "You're talking about traditional gargoyles, teacher. Those gargoyles are practically useless; they can only be used to harass soldiers or throw explosives. And once they enter a priest's sanctuary, they immediately lose their ability to move."

"This new type of gargoyle is immune to the priests' dispel, which makes up for its biggest weakness. Those bishops who tried to stop us were all torn to shreds by machine guns. However, because this gargoyle needs to bear the weight of weapons and metal armor, it consumes much more energy... If we use 'stakes' to recharge, it would probably take five or six hours to power it for less than half an hour, and it would have to go back as soon as it took off."

"The Griffin Legion is well-organized. We may have to confront Griffin Legion head-on later, so we can't afford to lose mana beforehand. Besides, the corpses we've used can be used to provide materials for the subsequent ritualist squads. We can achieve the best possible results with the fewest possible kills."

"—Of course, in order to escort you, our squad will probably not go to the front lines. Let's head straight to the port now."

Is it because of me?

"They attacked civilians because the gargoyles I invented consumed too much energy... so they had no choice but to attack civilians?" This thought flashed through the stranger's mind, sending chills down his spine.

The gargoyles in the laboratory environment naturally wouldn't lack energy. He hadn't even considered the issue of the environment in which they were used.

Hearing this, the stranger felt the dizziness getting stronger and stronger.

"... Who invented this special kind of gargoyle?"

He struggled to sit up, clinging to his last shred of rationality and a sliver of hope, and tentatively asked a question.

"Actually, this should be considered a military secret. But it will be declassified after today, so there's no point in hiding it anyway... It's fine to tell you."

The captain smiled warmly, "After all, the association specifically said that they must treat you with the utmost respect and try their best to meet any needs you may have. Star Antimony needs your intellect and skills."

"The one who developed this ' Armored Gargoyle ' is the renowned genius ' Albert Lore.' He's the young master of the Lore family... You left early, so you might not know. He's only in his early twenties, yet he's already a Calamity Splicer, and even his Equilibrium Path has reached the Third Level. He's a big celebrity on Star Antimony and a leading figure among the younger generation."

"I heard he's been nominated to join the Royal Alchemy Association, and he should receive the Star Antimony Medal after the war. It's said he has a chance to reach the Fifth Level before he turns thirty!"

The more the stranger listened, the more dizzy he felt.

Never before had he felt so disgusted with his hobby of developing necromancy.

He only felt that it was an art, a technique.

An art that transforms the ephemeral into the eternal, a technology that breathes new life into the dead.

But now, he finally realizes—this is a sin.

When he conducts research and development for the sake of efficiency and puts it into mass production... even though he has never killed a single person with his own hands, his hands are already stained with blood.

Fortunately, it was all fake.

In his timeline, Armored Gargoyle had not yet been put into production.

It's still under development, and we're iterating on the latest version...

He thought to himself, in a self-deceiving way.

But soon, he realized another problem.

Even if he stops researching and developing these Armored Gargoyle that can only be powered by killing civilians, will no one take over and continue the research and development? He has already opened Pandora's box.

But it can no longer be turned off.

"—The teacher will probably join in later, working with that genius to develop even stronger gargoyles!"

At that moment, it seemed as if they were mocking him.

A perfectly timed chuckle rang in the stranger's ears.

The shrill laughter was almost hysterical, so loud it made him breathless. Even though a competitor had left the scene, the stranger felt no interest whatsoever; he only felt that the laughter was mocking him.

He suddenly heard the sounds of tearing and chewing.

Subconsciously turning around, the stranger saw the gargoyles gathered together, feeding.

He had certainly seen gargoyles eat corpses. Pure stone has no digestive system, yet demons can eat people.

He would even feed discarded corpses to gargoyles to dispose of experimental materials. And the gargoyles were very obedient, accepting all offerings. He kept a gargoyle in his own laboratory, and he even crafted a ruby body for it to make it look more beautiful.

But for some reason, he suddenly felt nauseous.

He saw the gargoyle turn around, sensing his gaze.

Looking at those blood-red lips, the stranger finally couldn't bear it any longer and completely lost consciousness.

Only a vague thought remained in his mind—

—I never want to invent such a "weapon" that exists solely for the purpose of more efficient killing again.