Terra is Daichi to all sorts of races.
Lupo, Prototype Armor after a wolf, and Caprinae, Prototype Armor after a sheep.
This peculiar racial form is not a result of natural evolution, but rather the result of interference from Gawain.
However, many people have also raised questions.
How do these animal-like species view the Prototype Armor animals that resemble them?
The vast majority of people have no opinion.
Even Liberi would eat roast chicken, and Caprinae would eat lamb chops.
But if someone asks them if they feel sad about the loss of small animals, they will most likely be met with a cold shoulder or even a beating.
However, among the many animals, there is one exception.
Beast Kin, though not much different from other animals, are treated Beast Kin by every Terra person.
A scholar's research has proven that the Beast Kin are fragments created from an entity called the Beast Lord, used to contact humans.
When they gather together, they form Beast Herd.
They will exploit the Terra's deep- Originium influence from Originium to create an unconscious sense of familiarity when the Terra see them.
So what is Beast Lord?
Forced to leave their animal bodies, they became a kind of Hyper-Domain spirit.
(Hyper-Domain: can be understood as a Warp Space that has been destroyed.)
Therefore, it can be concluded that this strange creature has no physical form and is more like a ghost.
Therefore, they often possess the characteristic of immortality...
"Ah--! Stop, stop, stop! I'm going to die, I'm going to die!"
The round marshmallow was torn into a baguette shape, Gregor felt a sense of novelty about the Beast Lord's peculiar body structure.
Doli dared not attack the dangerous "Pelo," so she turned her attention to the penguins on the ground.
"You damned Emperor! Speak up! You were the one who asked me to do this!"
All eyes turned to him, and the Emperor adjusted his sunglasses.
"You can't say that. I just wanted you to understand what kind of people they are. It's obvious that you were discovered because of your special abilities."
"You—! Wait... what are you doing? That's not cotton candy on me, you can't eat it!"
With one hand holding Ceobe to prevent him from getting closer, Gregor added:
"So, that inexplicable behavior just now was to check what kind of person Ifrit is?"
"It's just a vague sense, it can't read minds!" Doli quickly added.
"... This will not happen again."
Gregor released his grip, Doli hurriedly floated away, then immediately turned his anger on the Emperor.
The Emperor gracefully dodged to the side, and the scorching hot sheep cart plunged into the back alley.
"What an impatient person..."
The Emperor straightened his collar, turned around, and gave Gregor and the others an elegant bow.
"I apologize for any inconvenience caused. As compensation... here is my business card."
"Take the famous film to any branch of Monster Siren Records, and they will give you the compensation you deserve."
"..."
The atmosphere became completely awkward...
Without the expected response, the Emperor forced himself to continue.
"At the same time, to be honest, I'm quite interested in all of you. Are any of you considering joining my company? The price and everything else are negotiable."
"Food and lodging included... Hmm!"
He covered Ceobe's mouth, and Ebenholz refused without changing his expression.
"No need, you can't afford that price."
"... That's a real shame."
The Emperor shook his head and turned away; his invitation was very precious, and he had no intention of returning.
It's a pity that the children possess the aura of the Flame Demon; I wonder if they can protect them.
This is... Leithanien.
"..."
The Emperor, finding himself suspended in mid-air, struggled violently as his feet wobbled.
"What are you doing! Let go! Do you know how important my image is in public?"
Who cares about those things?
Grabbing the penguin by the head and flipping it over, Gregor said unkindly:
"Since the physical contact hasn't been done yet, I'll consider it settled. Now let's talk... who do you want to recruit?"
"I've given up. You should contact Doli for this!"
"It ran away when it hit you."
The Emperor turned his head in astonishment, only to find the alleyway completely empty.
Damn it! You're the ruler of sheep, not rabbits!
The surrounding residents had already gathered around because of this farce, and for the sake of his image, the Emperor firmly declared:
What if I don't comply?
A deep, resonant voice, coupled with the imposing presence of someone seasoned in battle.
Despite its cute appearance, it exudes a considerable sense of intimidation.
"Don't underestimate them. If this continues... there will be casualties."
He narrowed his eyes and unconsciously reached for the iron mace tucked into his lower back.
"Really? It's been a while since I've done anything..."
"Besides, I won't die, so even if you kill me, it won't make a difference!"
You're the one who's going to die!
Jian's lips twitched, and he silently put down his weapon.
"... I don't need your life, I just want to ask you a few simple questions."
Gregor asked, following the prompts in the group chat:
Do you know where the Star Gate fragments are?
"Star Gate?" The Emperor was suddenly startled.
"... I don't know. Don't look at me. I don't know where you learned about this kind of thing. You know it was smashed. How would I know where it fell?"
"What about the other one?"
The Emperor stared at Gregor, and finally scoffed.
"... For the sake of your lives, don't even think about it."
[Gregor: Is it telling the truth?]
[Vane: Indeed, most Beast Lord are just looking for fun; none of them really care about the state of the Star Gate.]
[Gregor: What's the deal with the other Star Gate?]
[Vane: There are Demons at the northern Star Gate, but that's only a small part of the true Demons army is being held back to the south by the Twin Kings using an endless time loop.]
[Vane: The Northern Defense Line that are currently causing headaches for various countries are just exposed remnants; the real battlefield is the Foehn Basin.]
Having confirmed the intelligence, Gregor set the Emperor down.
"Okay, thank you for your cooperation."
That's it? Aren't you going to ask anything else?
The Emperor was taken aback, and his plan to add mystery and increase the success rate of recruitment by using intelligence fell silent.
"Why don't you ask again?"
"Why would you make such a request...?"
Resisting the urge to rub the penguin's belly, Gregor did have something to ask.
Do you know any good teachers? Warlocks or musicians, it doesn't matter.
"Music?"
Automatically filtering out the requirements before the music started, the Emperor pushed up his sunglasses and said in a deep, magnetic voice:
"Feel honored, for standing before you now is the most outstanding music teacher."
Is it necessary to waste so much time with him?
Ebenholz, who had long been unhappy with the Emperor, immediately retorted:
"Classical music in Leithanien is different from that crooked stuff like rap; even bragging requires a prepared script."
"Leithanien's music? Just old-fashioned stuff. If we're really talking about music..."
The Emperor straightened his chest.
"In all of Leithanien, no... in the entire Daichi, no one is better than me."
"Heh." Ebenholz's brief mockery
"What do you mean? Do you know how widespread my records are? Don't you recognize the Sirens' Emperor?"
"Oh."
"Are you even listening?! Even just ask around, I've been voted the most influential singer for two consecutive terms!"
"Oh."
"You brat, I've put up with you for too long! How about we have a match?"
A short while later, watching the two selecting equipment in the music store, Gregor sighed.
"Don't you have any objections?"
With a trembling look on the shop assistant's face, Jian waved the cello once, then gently put it down.
"I never hate competition; it gives people the motivation to move forward."
Ifrit raised her hand.
"My friends and I have agreed to form a band together. We're still learning, so this is just observation for us."
Gregor looked at the last person, Ceobe licked the chocolate off his lips.
"There's something delicious here!"
Okay, it's alright now.
"I'm telling you, have you made your choice yet?"
Inside the shop, Ebenholz tapped his toes impatiently.
"With so many instruments, isn't there one you need?"
"Hmph, it's precisely because I'm proficient in all instruments that I'm having trouble choosing, kid."
"There's no need to waste time. You can use whatever you're good at." Ebenholz took out a flute from his pocket.
"I hope you won't just give up right away."
The flute was placed to the lips, and as the first note of the instrument rose from the air, the entire music store came alive.
The piano, drums, flute, bells... even though no one was playing, the instruments spontaneously harmonized with the music on the Ebenholz, creating a dreamlike scene that made the shop owner wipe his eyes.
The Emperor listened quietly until the song ended.
"Hmm... although you're still quite a bit behind me, you do have some musical talent, but it's too superficial!"
Ebenholz didn't taunt, but gestured to the other person with his eyes.
"Hmph, just you wait and see."
Without choosing any musical instrument, the Emperor simply took out a microphone from behind his back.
With a simple volume adjustment, the Emperor began to sing a cappella.
The dreamlike scene from before was gone, yet Ebenholz's eyes widened in disbelief.
A verse drama? This guy... he's singing a popular verse drama from Leithanien!
Moreover, his rich voice blended perfectly into the singing, leaving no Ebenholz even for those who deliberately nitpick.
More importantly...
Ebenholz glanced at the shop owner beside him, who was already immersed in the singing, his face full of enjoyment.
Outside the window, more and more residents were drawn by the singing and gathered in front of the shop.
This was something he hadn't done in his previous performances.
We lost...
Before the performance was even over, the Ebenholz had already come to a profound understanding of this.
With just a touch, one can understand the life of an instrument; with casual playing, they can automatically harmonize. Ebenholz has never doubted his talent.
But at this moment, the Ebenholz could only remain silent.
"It seems you've realized your own insignificance."
Impatiently shooing away the shop owners who were trying to get his endorsement, the Emperor approached Ebenholz.
"Your music is too rigid, just like this country, only pursuing melody without even the most basic emotion."
"... emotion?"
Ebenholz clenched his fists.
His first lesson in music was to discard superfluous emotions and pursue absolute rhythm when playing.
"I lost, and I admit defeat."
Ebenholz turned his head away, and the way he bowed his head in acknowledgment only made the Emperor more displeased.
"As expected, I still hate you Leithanien."
"A true singer should have the will to rebel; you haven't fully utilized your talent."
"Music... is the cry of a singer's soul!"
The Emperor pointed to the mace.
"Like her, even without performing, just by her aura, I can tell she's an excellent singer!"
"..."
Ebenholz's dim eyes turned strange.
"But she can't play any instruments at all; she'd be better suited for fighting with one."
The Emperor's voice faltered, and after a brief silence—
"Perhaps she has a natural talent for playing the drums?"
Jian frowned, suddenly feeling offended.
Having moved a little further away from the mace, the Emperor cleared his throat, preparing to have the young man properly worship him.
"Ah! The Emperor! It really is the Emperor!"
The Emperor froze, turned around, and saw that the floor-to-ceiling windows were crowded with the faces of residents.
"Suffered..."
Boom--!
The door was flung open, and the We Many of enthusiastic fans waving pens and paper rushed in.
Ebenholz and the others leaned against the wall, looking on with embarrassment at the penguins being constantly squeezed by the crowd.
"Hey, Mei-luo! Don't touch my butt!"
"... So he really is famous."
Feeling a mix of emotions, Ebenholz was lifted up by Mace and moved towards the door.
The high vantage point also allowed him to see outside the window.
It was a touch of white...
"It sounds so nice."
Even when he tried to stand on tiptoe, he could only see the crowded masses, Kreide couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.
"It's a pity we didn't get to see the performers, Your Emperor... were they musicians from Columbia?"
"Get out of the way!"
A fan shoved the boy away in dissatisfaction, but Kreide regained his balance and patted his chest.
"Please be careful, there are many people in front, it's easy to fall."
The fans, who had been reminded, stood frozen in place, their fervent emotions gradually subsiding. Just as they were about to apologize, the boy had already left.
Clutching a bag of bread he had bought, Kreide strolled along the sidewalk, basking in the Vissheim sunshine.
Welcome to Vissheim.
The boy would greet the passing tourists from time to time, and the tourists would politely respond to the cheerful boy.
But the good news didn't last long; the patrol officers noticed something unusual about the boy's clothes.
"Stop right there! You're from the slums, aren't you?"
He gave the patrolman a smile, and while the man was momentarily distracted, Kreide dashed into the alley.
"Hello!"
After a tense and exciting chase, the patrol officers, unable to find their target, left in frustration. Kreide peeked out from behind a huge poster and patted his chest.
"Phew, thank you, Mr. Poster."
Mr. Poster swayed slightly in the wind, as if in response.
With this, Kreide was able to see the contents of the poster.
[A music extravaganza, open to all, regardless of background; everyone is welcome to come and pursue their dreams.]
"Everyone..."
The boy's eyes lit up, but he ultimately turned and walked away.
Will that singer participate? And will the musicians who performed the earlier pieces also join in at the end?
Surely, Mr. Emperor's music is very beautiful, and that unknown performer is also excellent.
Can I play that kind of music too?
I'm sure I can!
Blushing at his own narcissistic thoughts, Kreide couldn't understand where his confidence came from.
"That's a bit of a pity."
The boy had considered participating in the competition, but due to his financial difficulties, he gave up the idea.
Since it's a music competition, shouldn't there at least be musical instruments?
The broken branch landed on the boy's head. Picking it up, the boy's eyes lit up, and he started pulling at the bread bag.
Like a cellist you've seen on a poster, the young man twirls around quickly, his hands moving constantly, accompanied by a soft humming melody.
Walking through the forest path, a cluster of low-rise buildings comes into view.
"Well sung, little Kreide."
"Ah, thank you, Grandma Sanna!"
Startled to find himself back in the slums, Kreide was met with kind looks from acquaintances. He shyly resumed his composure.
After delivering the items that his neighbors had asked him to buy, Kreide jogged home.
"By the way, Kreide."
A neighbor called out to the boy.
"I have good news for you, your family has come to pick you up."
"Family?"
Kreide froze. His grandfather had clearly said that his family...
"Yes, you're dressed very well. You must make a good impression on them."
The neighbor gave Kreide a thumbs up.
"I've watched you grow up since you were little, and I always thought you must be from some noble family. Well, here they are to pick you up."
"Um, but..."
"No buts, hurry up and get your hair done, then go home and wait for good news."
With a mix of doubt and trepidation, Kreide walked toward his cabin.
Before we even entered, we could already hear conversations coming from inside.
"That's enough, Wolf. Do you really think of him as your grandson?"
The boy stopped in his tracks.
"Kreide is my grandson! He's a good boy, and everyone here can attest to that!"
"It has nothing to do with whether he's a good kid or not, he's dangerous!"
"Get out! Unless that person personally orders it, you're not taking him away!"
"There's no time! Another Voice of the Mundane has arrived, the performance is about to begin, we can't... who!?"
Sorting through what he had just heard, Kreide knocked on the door.
"Grandpa, it's me."
The door opened, and the boy's grandfather, his face still flushed with anger, stood across the table, while Caprinae, dressed in fine clothes, scrutinized the boy.
Wrong...
"He is the mortal world..."
"Kreide, his name is Kreide."
The old man insisted on correcting him, but Caprinae ignored him and got up to approach the boy.
"This is... that person's last work."
He reached out to touch her, but Kreide took a large step back, breathing heavily.
"Kreide?"
The old man noticed something was wrong with his grandson and was about to get up.
"Grandfather!"
Kreide placed the bread on the table and rubbed his face.
"Is he my family member who came to take me away? I'm willing to go with him!"
"What!? No, you don't understand..."
"He's made up his mind, Wolf."
The old man's face turned anxious, while Caprinae smugly straightened his sleeves.
"I'm taking him with me; you can retire with honor now."
Caprinae walked out, Kreide obediently followed behind him.
Seemingly realizing that his grandson had overheard their conversation, the old man lowered his head in remorse and did not try to stop him.
Kreide glanced back furtively, a pang of guilt in his heart.
It wasn't because the old man was hiding his identity; even if the old man had concealed something, the boy never doubted the grandfather who had raised him.
The boy recently awakened the ability to vaguely perceive the goodwill or malice of others.
The moment I opened the door, I was met with undisguised malice.
The boy instinctively thought, "I can't involve Grandpa..."
As he walked out with the man, surrounded by well-wishes from neighbors, Kreide maintained his smile.
"You... noticed it, didn't you?"
The boy tensed up at the sudden question.
"What are you referring to?"
"Hmph, don't try anything funny, just get out of here."
The two quickened their pace, turning from the main road into a small alley. After several turns, a group of suspicious individuals dressed in black robes and wearing masks surrounded them.
"It was him?"
"Genuine and authentic."
The Witch King Remnants all breathed a sigh of relief.
"Hurry up! Golden Law Guard is being held back by others. We need to find a new vessel for the Voice of the Mundane as soon as possible."
What is the Voice of the Mundane? And what does it mean to change the medium?
Surrounded by people, Kreide had many questions, but he also realized that he was in danger.
The boy's first thought, rather than his own safety, was for his ailing grandfather.
Is Grandpa able to take care of himself?
Will you all miss me? Who will buy bread for everyone from now on? Will tomorrow still be sunny in Vissheim?
A jumble of thoughts surged through the boy's mind, and suddenly, the music he had heard not long ago began to play again.
I wish I could hear it one more time...
"What happened?"
The Witch King Remnants immediately realized something was wrong, and the spells inscribed within their bodies became active.
"It's this guy; two Voice of the Mundane really do react when they're close together."
"Never mind, let's get him away first..."
"Let him go!"
Upon hearing that clear, boyish voice, Kreide's heart suddenly raced, and he looked up.
With black hair and violet eyes, a very kind-looking boy stood at the other end of the alley.
"Run!"
Shouting excitedly, Kreide rammed into someone, trying to buy time for the unknown boy.
But the Witch King Remnants were even more excited than he was.
"Another Voice of the Mundane! No wonder it triggered a reaction, arrest him immediately!"
But his companions did not act, because they recognized a fact.
According to intelligence, another Voice of the Mundane has been inseparable from that dangerous individual.
The boy is here, but where is "Pelo"?
Snap--
In sync with the heartbeats of the Witch King Remnants, one hand gripped the corner of the alleyway.
"It's very dangerous. Besides your own safety, you also need to consider the safety of the hostages."
"... Sorry, but over there..."
"Nothing will happen."
The sword hilt emerges from the corner, followed by the legs, the upper body, until it is fully revealed.
Gregor was backlit.
The bandages binding the weapon came undone, and the blood-red blade stung everyone's eyes.
Whether they witnessed it with their own eyes or thought of the bloodstains on the intelligence, the Witch King Remnants immediately turned back.
Click--
With a crisp sound of skull shattering, the black iron mace was driven deep into the ground.
"Excuse me..."
The mace and Gregor blocked both ends.
"No passage allowed here."