Chapter 218: Mize’s insight, Alvira, finally becoming a grandma.
The fruit split open with a damp, heavy sound, its thick skin curling back in segments.
From within, a towering figure slowly emerged.
The warrior stood easily three meters tall, his armored frame catching the faint green glow of the chamber.
Mucus still clung to his body, dripping in slow, sticky trails down the black plates of his armor.
His steps were heavy, as though every movement carried the weight of 1000 tons.
He did not hesitate, nor did he bow to the tree spirit whom had birthed him.
Instead, the giant warrior walked forward until he reached Mize.
With a heavy metallic clatter, he sank onto one knee before her, lowering his head.
“This humble one sees the Creator.” His voice was deep, muffled slightly by the helm.
Mize’s lips curved faintly, her eyes reflecting quiet satisfaction, "Not bad! Tier 3"
'And the way how from birth this guy is already equipped with armour. Quite the ability... '
She gave the warrior a long, measured look, her gaze sweeping across his massive frame, the armor plates, the faint shimmer of lingering fluid that still dripped from the edges.
She nodded once, approvingly.
“That’s one,” she said, her voice calm.
Her tone carried into the chamber.
With a small wave of her hand, she gestured for the warrior to step aside.
The soldier obeyed without hesitation, moving to the edge of the chamber.
“The armor is the same,” Mize continued, now speaking more to herself, though her voice carried to the others in the chamber.
“The strength, too. It matches the lowest tier warriors that we had in the legion at the beginning.”
“Now with continuous supply of these warriors to the open world, I can tackle the titan's issue slowly.”
Alvran, standing close by, inclined his head respectfully. “Yes, my Master. It is a miracle you have granted us. With this ability, we can send out more and more warriors into the world. They will fight, they will cleanse those filthy titans. The tide will turn.” His tone dropped colder as he was mentioning this.
Mize glanced at him, her expression copying his. “Make sure this ability is never exposed to the outside world. Create a chamber deep within the tree, one that cannot be found. Use a space formation to hide it. And continue to create more warriors. Day by day, let them join the ranks, spread them to the land, and make sure to crush the titans under my name"
Alvran placed a hand across his chest, bowing slightly. “As you command, Master.”
The moment lingered in silence until a small voice broke it.
“C-rator!”
The tree spirit spoke, her tone quiet yet it caught the two's attention.
From the obvious way she was looking at her, Mize knew what she wanted.
Mize smiled, flew closer, and rubbed the tree spirit's head, "You have done a good job just now"
Subconsciously complimenting someone that she did a great job at mating.
'I am such a good creator' Mize grinned inwardly.
But then, when she thought about it.
'So they need to continue supplying more and more seeds in the future huh' She glanced at the man that had the same stiff smile as always, 'Can his hip handle it?'
Well, that question was out of topic. A true king might should never be questioned!
For these creations to continue, the tree's spirit and Alvran would have to repeat the act that planted the seeds.
Often. Until the reserves within the tree spirit were spent.
Mize turned her attention toward the spirit.
Curiosity flickered across her face, and she leaned slightly forward, her tone shifting into something lighter, though no less direct.
“Then, in a single day… how many can you give birth to, child?”
Her question was precise. She wanted numbers.
Alvran remained quiet, deliberately giving the tree spirit space to answer.
His eyes, however, lingered on her as though weighing her words in advance.
The spirit inhaled slowly, placing her delicate hands before her chest as though steadying herself.
Her voice trembled faintly when she spoke, but the words carried clearly. “I… can do one thousand per day, C-rator.”
Mize’s brow lifted slightly. “So small, but I am sure you can increase the number in the future"
“Yes, can" The tree spirit bobbed her head.
“I see.” Mize’s response was soft, little more than a murmur.
She stood still in the air, lost briefly in thought.
She remembered what she ordered to the clones.
Basically, the strength of the warriors will be luck based.
Random. A gamble. Like a gacha game.
Most would emerge around tier three, common and reliable, while higher-tier warriors existed only as a possibility.
The stronger the warrior, the lower the odds, but never impossible.
‘So now, it really is a birthing gacha game,’ Mize mused privately.
There was a faint edge of self-blame in the thought. She had chosen this path herself, after all.
Her gaze drifted briefly toward the tree spirit, recalling how naturally the process had played out between her and Alvran.
A flicker of heat touched her cheeks, a reluctant acknowledgment slipping into her mind. ‘The way they just went at it… maybe… maybe I should finally do it too. With Liam.’
She hummed under her breath, cheeks warming as she tried to push the thought aside.
Shaking herself out of the moment, she turned back to Alvran.
Her eyes were sharper again, her tone shifting to something more direct.
“Whatever issues you have with the church,” she said firmly, “I don’t mind them. But make sure not to destroy each other’s foundation.”
Alvran straightened, ready to reply, but before he could speak, Mize’s form shimmered.
In the blink of an eye, she vanished from the chamber.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Alvran and the tree spirit stared at the empty space Mize was, stunned by her sudden departure.
The newborn warrior remained motionless at the side, waiting for orders.
Together, the three of them turned instinctively toward the direction Mize had gone.
As one, they dropped to their knees and bowed their heads, a silent gesture of reverence to the Creator who had left them behind.
When they finally rose, Alvran’s gaze shifted to the spirit beside him, his new “wife.” His voice soft.
“Pick a name for yourself,” he said. “As a noble creation, designed to be my wife, you are deserving of a name.”
The spirit’s lips parted slightly.
She tilted her head, her eyes wide and innocent.
For a moment, she looked at him directly, then quickly looked away, her cheeks coloring faintly.
Her voice was soft, almost shy.
“N-name?” she repeated, as though tasting the word.
Her hands tightened before her chest. After a pause, she whispered, “You… pick.”
Alvran scratched the side of his head, clearly embarrassed.
He shifted his weight, rubbing the back of his neck before forcing out a voice, “Then… how about Alvira? I’m Alvran, you’re Alvira.”
He pointed awkwardly between the two of them, his finger moving back and forth as if the gesture itself would help his words sound less clumsy.
“Alvira…” she repeated softly, tilting her head.
The name lingered on her lips, as though she was testing it, rolling it in her mind before giving a small nod. “Alvira likes it.”
Her smile was gentle, bright enough to warm the air between them.
Alvran felt something stir in his chest, an unfamiliar rush of warmth that made him pause.
For a brief moment, his usually guarded self cracked open, and he let out a genuine smile.
“Great!” he said, almost laughing at his own relief.
“Hahahaha,” Alvira’s soft laugh spilled out in response, echoing faintly in the chamber.
Above them, Mize had already taken to the skies.
Her figure cut smoothly through the air as she rose past the clouds, the wind curling around her robes.
She slowed only when she reached a high enough point to see the land stretch out beneath her.
Her gaze swept across the vast territory.
The sight eased her shoulders. At least here, in this corner of the world, peace was still intact.
“The tree spirit huh” Mize murmured under her breath, the sound almost lost in the wind.
A faint chuckle followed“One of my youngest children actually has a wife now. I’m a grandma, officially.”
Her laughter lasted only a moment before her expression shifted.
She steadied herself in the air, eyes narrowing slightly as her thoughts turned elsewhere.
“A thousand per day isn’t a bad number,” she mused. “As time passes, she’ll be able to create more and more every day.”
“Still… she lacks something,” Mize admitted, her gaze distant. “Alvira has no combat ability. I made her only for creation, never for fighting. It’s the only way to keep balance between the Church and the Broken Blade Legion.”
She hummed lowly, drifting higher as the air thinned, her sharp eyes cutting through the distance like blades.
The clouds parted faintly as she locked onto something far away, two distinct presences moving steadily in a certain perspective.
“The other two true kings… busy with their own business, as always. And why are they in the underground dungeon again?"Mize murmured to herself.
Her gaze stretched beyond the horizon, piercing into the underground world beneath the surface dungeon.
There, hidden in shadow, another scene unfolded.
"Kill it!"
Boom!