High in the sky, Jibril watched the Ex-Machina ahead with curiosity.
Though they ranked only tenth among the races, their peculiar nature placed their heads among the rarest prizes in the Flügel's rankings.
Even the records of the higher-ranked Elves and Dwarves classified them as a danger to be avoided.
Even Jibril, who had successfully challenged a Dragonia, had yet to challenge the Ex-Machina alone. Part of the reason was their mechanical rigidity, which made negotiation impossible; the other was that the Ex-Machina left no openings when acting as a group.
Moreover, they had even accomplished the feat of killing the Dragonia's Dragon King of Calamity. In terms of hunting difficulty alone, they had already reached the level of the Old Deus.
Had this race not been so passive, almost never engaging in pointless provocation unless attacked, their fearsome reputation would likely have been far greater.
"How strange for that pile of scrap to trespass into someone else's territory. Was she being used?"
Jibril murmured to herself, somewhat puzzled. "No, the Ex-Machina's analytical nature means they wouldn't let themselves be used. They have no interest in war or even the Star Cup, after all."
The girl pondered in frustration but still reached no conclusion, then turned an almost pleading gaze toward Roland.
"There are no other Ex-Machina within two hundred kilometers."
Roland, whose understanding with Jibril had grown increasingly seamless, calmly gave her the answer she wanted. The information brought an almost fanatical, entranced expression back to her face.
"Even if they were scouting for some purpose, they would never let one unit act alone. In other words... this lone Ex-Machina is acting independently of her own will? That goes beyond a rare specimen!"
Jibril clasped her hands before her chest, gazing covetously at the Ex-Machina girl hiding inside the