Chapter 77: The New Symbiote

“Shit! What was that attack?” Delghar cursed. His heart beat faster in frustration as the symbiote inside him undulated its tentacles. It was anxious — afraid — yet it could not speak against its master, having lost its voice due to the drug.

“Geez. I told you, you’re not healthy yet,” Sheena rolled her eyes at the pitiful Delghar, who had been downed by just one attack. “I think that attack came from Hiro, the symbiote Count Evesys let go a year ago with his daughter, Rebecca.”

“A symbiote? There were four of them!”

“I heard this symbiote has many hosts but low combat power,” Sheena said. “Litmus categorized them as production-type symbiotes because they can turn dirt into iron.”

“Why the fuck are they here?”

“Dunno. They might be production-type, but they’re still stronger than normal knights. Did their attacks hurt that much? I don’t think it was that powerful. But, Delghar, how is it?”

“Nah, it was just a bit stronger than gunfire. This stupid symbiote is just being a coward!” Delghar cursed his symbiote. He then reached for another pill to control it.

Sheena winced at his complete lack of empathy toward his comrade-in-arms. She knew that ingesting too many of those pills could cause irreversible damage to symbiotes.

She wanted an obedient soldier, sure — but not a mindless one. That’s why she kept her own pills in check. But Delghar had been consuming them like candy.

“I guess we’ll have to wait for Delila. There’s no other way,” Sheena sighed.

Delghar’s situation was shameful, and he knew it. There had been no record in the kingdom of two symbiote users being overwhelmed by a single opponent — no matter the circumstances.

“Fuck! What am I going to say to His Majesty!” Delghar kicked a chair in annoyance.

“Well, the best-case scenario is a light reprimand. As long as we win, you can always redeem yourself once you’re fully healed. This war will be long. We have Litmus, Mutual, and possibly Delana as enemy,” Sheena replied. Latvin was a human supremacist kingdom, but she wished the king could be more prudent. War against three nations at once was unwise, especially soon after they conquered a country.

And so, both sides were at a stalemate. Neither side wanted to make a move. They were both waiting for reinforcements.

Delilah, pressured by the king to prove her innocence in the coup attempt, arrived just hours before a symbiote from the beastmen nation, Val Sabertooth, appeared.

“Ah, Val Sabertooth is unlike me, alright. Don’t show yourself, Hiro. As long as he doesn’t see your tentacles, he shouldn’t be able to identify you,” Altair said to Cecile and the general in the meeting room. An hour earlier, Val Sabertooth had arrived, and Altair had her soldiers attend to him in one of the more luxurious rooms in the castle.

“Erm… Divine Host Altair, what do you mean Hiro shouldn’t show himself?” The general asked.

“Well, do you know about Hiro’s true nature? How he’s weaker and more malleable than a normal symbiote?”

“Yes. Are you saying we should not expose Hiro? But what if they ask about him?” The general frowned.

“I’m warning you — do whatever it takes to hide him. If not, they could get violent. Other nations, including Mutual, view symbiotes as heroes or even gods. Though it’s never happened before, impersonating a divine host is a grave violation. I am a bit more understanding and outlier among others, so I tolerate him.”

“Does that mean we have to hide things about Hiro from Gilgamesh as well?”

“Divine Host Gilgamesh, mind you. Yes, you must. I don’t know — maybe it’s best to send Hiro and the others back to your country. You were sending Cylia, right? When will she arrive?”

“Maybe tomorrow or the day after. Unlike Val, whose army is practically all cavalry, she travels by carriage with many foot soldiers.”

“Could she not ride a horse? She doesn’t look like a combat symbiote,” Altair frowned. As a flying divine host, she believed that speed was essential. It was her only good point among other symbiote users.

“Well, she’s an illusion specialist, but she has a record of repelling a horde from a dungeon. Her record is just a step behind Lord Seraphine’s, so we classified her as a combat symbiote,” the general said. Litmus rarely went to war with other nations, so their symbiote users seldom fought other symbiote users.

“Well, it’s not like I’ve ever engaged seriously with another divine host. Anyway, what are you going to do? Demote Cecile to an ordinary knight?”

“We shall send them home to Quantora Village. If Val asks, we will answer that they are not symbiote users and that everything was just a ruse,” the general said. Hiro might not be a symbiote user, but his skill had proved invaluable to Litmus’ economy. He was also expected to help with gun development.

While a master blacksmith and a forge could do a better job than Hiro, Hiro was simply faster.

“I see. But if your side only sends one symbiote user, that means your portion, once we have beaten Latvin, will be severely reduced. Are you fine with that?”

“We don’t mind. The beastmen country will most likely ask for Vertia’s independence or merger. We only need to bargain with you.”

“Hm… I see. I don’t know what Gilgamesh wants, but I will side with you.”

As the discussion progressed, the door was thrown open. A half-naked man with silver hair stood imposingly. The white wolf ears twitched atop his head, and his fluffy tail waved enticingly behind him. Cecile jumped at the sudden entrance, wary of whether she had been found out by other symbiotes.

“Yo! What are you guys talking about? Strategy meeting without me?!”

“Erm…” The general looked nervous, but Altair only shrugged. She leaned back in her chair and gestured for Val to join the table.

“Oh, would you like to join? I don’t recall you being fond of them though. I have found this strategy meeting quite entertaining as of late. Thanks to them, I managed to stall two flying symbiote users — and it even saved my life once. You should join. General, could you explain how we should proceed to attack Sicily?”

“Bah. Strategy is for cowards! Our job is to defeat the Host of the Earth — a Divine Host, or ‘symbiote user’ in your language. The rest is the pack’s job.”

“I advise you, Val. You should at least listen to this general’s advice. The enemy has employed a method to encircle a Divine Host and distract it while their own Divine Host deals the killing blow.”

“Then that means you are not worthy! The strongest should rule! Don’t act like a coward.” Val turned back toward the door before stopping. “Oh yeah. I almost forgot. But Vertia is mine, alright? We also want all beastkin to be given to us. As a fellow beastkin, it’s my duty to look after the pack.”

“Of course — as long as you promise not to treat them as slaves,” the general muttered, then clapped a hand over his mouth at the gaffe. He had merely echoed what King Angus had demanded in a recent letter.

“... Are you picking a fight? Is that an insult? Why would we enslave fellow beastmen? You guys were the ones who did it first! Attacking unprovoked!” Val snapped. “You apes are the jealous ones. Just because we’re better than you, you call us subhumans.”

“My apologies — I misspoke. There will be no trouble then. Ah, the one who attacked Vertia is Latvin, by the way. Our country promotes equality for both beastmen and human,” the general said.

“Well… that depends on your achievement, Divine Host Val Sabertooth.” Altair smirked. “The strongest, right? Do your best — hunt down at least two of their symbiote users before you start boasting. I managed to wound one and stall them for two months all by myself, you know.”

“Hm? Alone? Don’t you have that new symbiote — the iron-making one?” Val asked.

“Ah — that production-type symbiote wasn’t here. The news that we brought him was just a bluff.”

“Bah. So you tried to conquer a nation without symbiotes? Hahaha! Insane! Well, whatever. So, where are the birds I’m supposed to hunt?”

“They’re in Sicily.” The general pointed at the map. “Um… should I call you Lord Val, or Divine Host Val?” He chose his words carefully; he knew many courts were touchy about casual forms of address.

“Call me Captain Val. A hunt is a hunt. Worship me later — preferably over ale after we win. Alright! Rest up. We leave at dawn!” Val glanced at the map and strode for the door.

“But Cylia hasn’t arrived yet. With her, we’d have three symbiote users — and if we wait for Gilgamesh, our chances of winning improve!” the general protested.

“Bah! Then tell that slowpoke to hurry up! We’re leaving tomorrow. How could she arrive later than me? I crossed your nation to get here, you know! Take this seriously!” Val barked.

The general clenched his teeth.

Luckily for them, Cylia arrived just at dawn. She immediately requested to see the general. Hiro didn’t know what to expect from a master illusionist, but Cylia looked exactly like one.

She wore a dark dress that puffed out from her body. Dark circles framed her eyes, her lips were painted purple, and her sharp glare could make anyone dizzy. Her black hair flowed down her back. Though petite, she commanded the room and looked far more mature than her small frame suggested.

She didn’t look like someone who had just arrived at a battlefield—she wore no armor and carried no weapon. Hiro knew she used illusions, so he assumed she would confuse her enemies and kill them while they were distracted. But how would she do that without weapons?

What stood out most was her symbiote. The ends of her tentacles had eyes that seemed to peer directly into your soul.

“Please do not stare at my symbiote. He’s a bit shy. Are you Cecile? I’ve heard much about you. General, I’m all ears—how are we going to tackle these foes?”

“Thank you for arriving early, Lady Cylia. We shall leave in a few hours,” the general said, saluting. “Your carriage will stay behind, and Cecile will carry you on horseback. Will that be agreeable to you? Ah—and we’ve decided to keep their identities a secret from Val due to… circumstances.”

“Understood.” Cylia nodded and turned to Cecile.

A few hours later, the group departed—for war.